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annymation · 4 months

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Reimagining the characters in Wish

(Part 3- Star/Aster)

ITS THE MOMENT WE’VE BEEN WAITING FOR!!!

HERE COMES THE BOYYYYY!!!

Ahem… so yeah welcome to part 3

If you haven’t seen them yet, here’s the links for part 1 and part 2 where I talk about how I’d rewrite Asha and the villains respectively.

Star may be the most challenging character to reimagine since… All I have is the personality displayed on the Star we DID get, a song we all collectively headcanon as Asha x Star love song (At All Cost Demo), and my imagination… In a way that just makes things more fun too.

Now remember there’s no definitive version of this character, he never came true so there’s limitless ways we can interpret him.

Some may imagine him mute, some may imagine him as a wacky character like the genie, others may imagine him more soft spoken like the blue fairy, some may imagine him as Asha’s love interest while others may prefer them as just friends, or even have him look like her grandfather, there are no wrong answers.

So here’s how I imagine him to be like:

The Star 💫

What’s a Wishing Star?

- Before we start talking about our star boy, I think it’s important we establish what a wishing star even is, so let’s begin.

-Star is an entity from another plane of existence, a wishing star, a being whose only purpose is to listen to the wishes from mortals that can see him and other wishing stars through their night skies. They listen to the wishes from mortals and provide some guidance in subtle ways.

- A wishing star is born, or rather, gains consciousness, once someone looks to them and makes a wish from the bottom of their hearts, once the star receives their first ever wish they are no longer just a celestial body of gas, they become a new wishing star, they gain a purpose, and develop their minds just like how a human would.

- As the years pass the star becomes more wise, more equipped to help the person who wished upon them for the first time.

- For a wishing star to grow up it may take a while, that’s why most people wish upon bigger ones who are already fully developed and clever enough to know exactly how to help.

- It’s not a wishing star’s job to GRANT a wish immediately, in fact, they’re incapable of doing that, their magic can only go as far as the hope and perseverance that resides in their wishmaker’s heart.

- Things that the mortal would consider just luck could actually be the works of a wishing star putting them in the right path.

- If the person loses hope in their dream then there isn’t anything the star can do, but if they remain determined then the star can help them go far.

- So a wishing star job is to just… stay in the sky, look down upon their wishmakers, give some subtle magic intervention here and there…

-That is, when they’re wished upon at all, otherwise they just stay there doing nothing.

- However… In some rare occasions, wishing stars can do a lot more than just give a subtle magic intervention from the distance. Sometimes, when someone truly well intentioned makes a wish with all their heart… The wishing star gets the power to do some extraordinary things.

Personality

- Star, or Aster as I’ll be calling him in this rewrite, which is a non-binary name meaning “star”. I’ll be referring to them with (He/they) pronouns.

- Aster is a very young and inexperienced wishing star, in fact, counting with Asha’s wish, Star only got TWO wishes in their whole life. And he’s still working on granting that first wish he ever got 18 years ago.

(Haha I’m sure that’s not foreshadowing for something really sad)

- Because of that he’s often treated by the other stars as sort of a younger sibling or a little kid.

- I think I should just get this info out now: Aster is NOT the north star, that big, bright and iconic star we know from the Disney movies, nope, Aster is actually a small itty bitty little star that you can barely see, that kind of star you probably wouldn’t pick to wish upon, most choose the brightests and bigger ones.

- So who’s that big, bright and iconic star? Well, in the beginning of our story… That star doesn’t exist, like, it’s literally absent from the sky… After all, we're seeing that star's origin story :)

- We’ll get to that when we get to that, back to Aster tho.

- Aster is a lot different from the other wishing stars, while they’re these benevolent and wise entities, Aster is more of a naive and curious teen who’s fascinated with the world below them.

- No one wishes upon him EVER so he gets a lot of free time to just watch humans do human things and animals do animal things, and he loves it.

(He’s like Ariel and Quasimodo lmao)

- When he gets to earth he’s very excited to help Asha, showing appreciation for her wishing upon him through a lot of physical contact, often hugging her and holding her hand without him even noticing. (Asha at first is confused but she gets used to this behavior pretty quick)

- Although Aster is naive and overly excited they’re no fool, he can be very clever and creative when it’s necessary.

- He’s also not a fish out of water like Ariel when he’s on earth, they understands human customs and how things work, since he watched everything from the sky… Although nevertheless they’re delighted to see everything up close.

- He may be smart, but at first, they don’t really know how to guide Asha in the right path to make her wish come true, after all he’s a very inexperienced wishing star, and freeing a kingdom from an evil sorcerer king and queen is no easy task.

- But regardless he doesn’t let his own insecurities get to him, and remains optimistic they’ll figure it out, together.

His personality is reminiscent to Disney guys such as: Quasimodo, Peter Pan, Prince Philip (yes really, rewatch Sleeping Beauty, that boy has a lot of personality), Alladin and Hercules.

Main Traits:

- Optimistic and kind

- Naïve

- Protective

- Curious

- Energetic

- Secretly very insecure

Powers

I think it’s important to establish his abilities before we get to his backstory and all that jazz.

What he CAN’T do

Just like how Movie Asha did in her job interview, let’s get his weaknesses out of the way first.

- Sooo… don’t get mad but… Star won’t be a shapeshifter in my version. I don’t want him to feel too much like Maui or the genie. So he’ll stay in the shape of a princely looking boy the whole way through.

- He can’t teleport, would make things too easy, also there’s a plot reason I’ll explain later.

- Can’t materialize real things out of thin air, only things made of star dust so they don’t really have any utility other than to create fun visuals during music numbers or when he’s explaining stuff.

- Can’t hurt anyone, this one is VERY IMPORTANT for plot reasons I’ll talk about later on.

- Can’t make a wish come true with the snap of his fingers, he’s a star, not a genie.

Weakness: Dark Magic, hopelessness and Asha getting hurt.

What he CAN do

- Stretch and re-shape his body. He may not turn into animals but his body can regenerate and squash and stretch around (haha get it? Like the animation term), like he’s made of star dust. Have this piece of concept art as an example:

- He can Fly and make other people and objects fly too

- Unlock doors, may seem random now but I’ll explain in a minute.

- Bring plants to life, and make them grow bigger, and I mean like “make a flower the size of a house” bigger.

- Make animals talk, but the animals only keep talking IF they so desire, if that’s not something they wish for then the magic fades away with time.

- Tho he naturally understands animals and any other living thing in their own languages.

- He can feel other people’s wishes, not all the time tho, he has to make a conscious effort to see what’s that person’s deepest desire.

- His body is warm like a small sun, so he can give warm hugs… that’s a power, yes.

- Aster may not teleport, but they can move really REALLY fast

- Uncorrupt wish bubbles, I mentioned in part 2 that Magnifico twisted most the people's wishes, those wishes that are changed are called “Corrupted wishes”, Aster can change those wishes back to what they originally were.

- Create dreams, is that too much like the sandman from rise of the guardians?… Im still keeping it.

-Get inside drawings, This is just for a scene I imagine Aster shrinking and walking around inside Asha's sketch book, I think that's cute.

- Make a human disguise, I'll elaborate more on this when we get to talk about his design.

- He can grant wishes “but Anny you just said earlier he can’t—“ yes yes I know… he just grants them in his own unique way.

What gives him strength: Hopes and dreams

(Undertale reference? More likely than you think)

A wishing star purpose is to serve as a guide, that provides some magic intervention so that the wishmaker has the means to get to their goal.

As such, the stronger Asha’s hope, perseverance and passions are, the stronger and more limitless Star’s magic becomes. Like his magic abilities are charged up by Asha’s beliefs, the more she wants something, the more he can do for her.

Now, let’s talk about how Aster and other wishing stars that come to earth function, and to do that, we gotta go waaaaay back to another wish granting character in the Disney catalog.

The Blue Fairy- What can we learn from her?

- We all know the blue fairy from Pinocchio, she is in a way the closest thing we have in the Disney canon that resembles the concept of Star, so I’m considering them as both the same kind of entity, they’re both wishing stars.

(not the same character tho, and I’ll get to that soon don’t you worry)

- You would think a character we see so little about doesn’t provide a lot of context, but she actually gives us a pretty good idea about what wishing stars can and can’t do.

- First thing she says when arriving is:

“Good Geppetto, you have given so much happiness to others. You deserve to have your wish come true.”

- From that, we can interpret that wishing stars only assume a human form and help those who are truly pure of heart and have spread kindness to others. Like Asha.

- Geppetto wished for Pinocchio to be a real boy, a human boy, but the blue fairy couldn’t grant that wish, because the only one who could make himself a real boy was Pinocchio himself.

“To make Geppetto’s wish come true will be enterely up to you. Prove yourself brave, truthful and unselfish, and someday you will be a real boy"

- So, am I saying that Aster will just fly up to Asha and say “it’s all up to you to save your people… GOOD LUCK! 😊” sparkle some magic on her and leave?

- Well no although that would be funny, he’s not gonna do that, in fact, Aster will act way differently compared to the Blue Fairy.

- Although Aster can’t immediately make the people of Rosas “Have something more than this” he will do everything in his power to help Asha with anything she needs, and stay by her side the whole way through… Not at all what the Blue Fairy did.

- Lets say the Blue Fairy did exactly what a wishing star is supposed to do.

-She didn’t let herself be seen by anyone except Pinocchio and Jimminy Cricket, she only gave Pinocchio a few instructions and then left it all up to him, and even then when she went a bit beyond that to inform him that Geppetto was inside a whale she did so by sending a note… Almost like she couldn’t go back again to tell him personally… Interesting huh?

(I know the reason is because the animators would lose their minds if they had to draw that sparkly effect on her dress a third time but let’s pretend there’s more to it okay?)

- So we have her being the best role model of a wishing star… and then we have Aster...

-Doesn’t even know where to begin with helping Asha, chooses to stay on earth more than a day instead of just giving cryptic advice and leaving, was seen by multiple people aside from just Asha and Valentino, and worse of all, falls in love with his wish maker… yeah dude broke several rule… And the other stars ain’t happy about that.

- You could say the scale of Geppetto’s wish and Asha’s wish are way different, one just wants a son and the other wants to defeat two evil monarchs.

-But the stars don’t see it that way, to them every wish should be treated equally and it’s not their purpose to mingle with humans and change the course of their history.

- So you see, while the Blue Fairy could go back to the sky and then reappear anywhere she wanted… Aster won’t have that privilege.

-If he goes back to the sky he’s not coming back down, because the other stars won’t allow it, not after he broke their rules.

- Aster knows all that, because he can hear them talking to him, warning him to stop and go back to the sky… Aster keeps that information a secret from Asha for as long as they can…

- He knows after he’s done helping Asha they’ll never see each other again, but that’s fine, he’s willing to break every rule to help her…

- Oh also there’s a scene in Pinocchio where the Blue Fairy opens a lock to free Pinocchio from a cage… that’s why I said Aster can unlock doors… okay moving on to our boy backstory.

Backstory

Yup, Aster has a backstory. And it all started in one fateful night:

An elderly man was taking a walk, carrying his granddaughter in his arms, she was just a few weeks old, but he couldn’t wait to show her how beautiful the stars looked that night.

He sat with her on a thick tree branch, and even though she couldn’t understand him, he was so happy telling her the names of each constellation.

In that moment, it seemed like everything was perfect.

But then that moment ended… He heard screams, and smelled smoke.

The elderly man ran back to his home, only to find it completely engulfed in a fire.

His granddaughter was now crying in his arms as he watched some neighbors trying to put down the fire, but to no avail.

His son and daughter-in-law were in there, he lost them both in an instant, the pain he felt in that moment was immeasurable.

In that moment of sorrow all he could do was look up, between the thick smoke he saw it… a small star.

With all his heart, Sabino wished upon it

“I wish my dear granddaughter, Asha, never feel such pain and sadness as I’m feeling in this moment”

A new wishing star was born.

Those words were the first thing Aster ever heard, it took a few years for him to even know what they meant, but as Asha and him grew older, he started to understand them.

He tried his best to make Asha as happy as she could be with the little that he was allowed to do.

Sometimes giving her inspiration for her drawings, other times sending her nice dreams after a bad day.

But he felt like he was failing her, no matter what he did, Asha would still go through sad times… Specially after her grandfather passed away.

Aster treasured every happy moment that he saw Asha experience, her making new friends, getting better with her drawings, dancing during wish ceremonies. Aster would shine brighter every time she was happy.

Point is: They were connected the whole time, and Aster already knew Asha even way before she wished upon him.

To be clear he wouldn’t just stay up there looking at Asha all day, he was also interested on everything else on earth in general.

But then, we have Asha’s 18th birthday, the day she had to give away her wish.

Aster knew what was really going on in Rosas, about what happened to most of the people’s wishes, and although that also saddened the other stars they all agreed they couldn't intervene unless someone from Rosas wished for their help.

So you can imagine how happy Aster was when Asha wished upon HIM, of all the stars, she looked at him and asked for his help! What are the chances?

If you could listen to them, you’d hear all the stars collectively whisper “oh…this might not end well…” as Aster flies down to earth going "YYYYYPIIIEEEEEEE!!!"

A Star Who Wishes To Be Human

- I’ve made it very clear that Aster is different from the other stars, for the reason that he’s so young and so fascinated with life on earth.

- But there’s more than that, see, I mentioned before Aster can’t hurt anyone, and that’s not because he’s some holier-than-thou pacifist, it’s because his magic literally CAN’T hurt living beings.

- Because his magic is made of ✨hopes✨ and ✨kindness✨ and ✨everything nice✨, so even if they literally make a sword with his star dust, all it’ll do is give Magnifico some tickles.

- And Aster hates that.

- He wishes he could be more useful to Asha… wait, “wishes”?

- That’s silly, a star is not supposed to “wish” for anything, to have wants, that’s a human thing... And yet here he is wanting to protect Asha in any way possible.

- This drive to protect Asha runs even deeper than just the wish he received from her grandfather or the wish she made, Aster feels as if it's a wish that comes within him.

- Aster would question why they feels this way, is it love? Can’t be that right? A star can’t fall in love…

- The same way a star can’t taste food, or smell the flowers, or feel temperature…

- But Aster wishes they could, Aster wishes he knew what food tasted like, what was the smell of the flowers and the morning dew, but most of all… Aster wished he could feel Asha’s warmth, the same way she feels when they embraced.

- This would be Aster internal conflict for most of the movie. They’d realize that they can’t be with Asha forever, but Aster wanted to at least confess his feelings before they went to enact their plan to defeat the king and queen, that’s when we’d get “At All Cost”.

- Soooo a bit of a spoiler to this rewrite, I’m basically telling a story all out of order at this point, but here goes, Aster does become human by the end, after the king and queen are defeated, the stars realize that punishing Aster for breaking their rules wouldn’t be fair after he did so much good, and also because some of them can’t stand him so they decide “hey, let’s leave him there” and just ask him to return his magic back to the sky.

- Once Aster accepts, his magic would be turned into a brand new star, that shines brighter than all the others, because it carries all the magic that Aster accumulated by helping Asha and all of Rosas. And thus we’d get an origin story for THE wishing star.

Design

Aster has brown skin, sparkly freckles and blond hair that shines and moves almost like a candle.

He dresses up as a prince, with the classic cape we see in classic princes like in Snow White and Sleeping Beauty.

They choose that form because he recalls that Asha used to read a lot about princes that would help princesses in need, so he thinks it's fitting to at least looks like one to help Asha

"But I'm not a princess"

"I know, you're just pretty like one!"

A itty bitty detail I didn't mention until now: Aster would be hand drawn animated, while everything else would be 3D, and his animation would change as the movie progressed.

By change I mean he'd start in a very sketchy looking animation, like it's being drawn very frantically to reflect how excited he is to help Asha, but as the movie progresses he'd be drawn with more detail and with more fluid movements.

This would serve to both represent his character development, showing him becoming more mature and learning what it means to be human, and also a reference to how Disney's animation evolved over the years.

He can make a human disguise, as I mentioned earlier, but that would require him to keep his magic hidden somewhere, in this case, a round stone that holds his cape together on his chest.

Once his magic was all kept inside this stone he'd turn into a 3D animated character, however his movements wouldn't feel... quite right, like he'd be animated in a different frame-rate compared to everyone else, so you could tell he was struggling to make himself move like a human, and people would be able to tell there was something off about him.

In the end when he turned into a human for real he'd become 3D animated with the right frame-rate, and his hair would no longer be blonde, but rather brown, like his eyebrows (Tangled reference? yup)

Final Thoughts

This was DEFINITELY the hardest one to translate my thoughts into words! My gosh this took so long to write.

Don't know if you could tell but I'm very passionate about this scrapped idea of a human looking star falling in love with our protagonist, and no it's not just for the ✨aesthetic✨.

I don't think it's wise to throw a romance when writing a story just because you feel like it, a romance needs to progress both the story and the characters involved, think of it like how Naveen learned with Tiana the importance of working hard, while in turn showing her that life can also be fun. They complete each other, and I want the same for Asha and Aster.

Asha needs to learn that she shouldn't feel guilty for wishing more for herself, she worries too much about others and what others may think of her that she forgets her own self worth, and Aster shows her that she not only can wish for things for herself, but she can also accomplish anything she sets her mind to. From becoming an amazing artist that can give movement to her drawings to the leader of a rebellion against two evil monarchs, she can do it all.

Meanwhile, Aster needs to learn that what Asha's grandfather wished upon him is an impossible task, for Asha to always be happy, that's impossible, because sadness is a part of life, its a part of being human, and that's what he learns, what it means to be human, to fail, get up and try again. As a wishing star Aster always knew that humans had to fail a bunch of times before having their wishes granted but he could never imagine how hard that actually was, and Asha's perseverance even with all odds against her is what makes him love her even more.

I talked a lot about why Aster loves Asha, so I should probably mention what Asha sees in him too. Asha get's a lot of laughs from Aster's innocent reactions to natural things on earth, like how dazzled he is seeing the sun rise for the first time, how he just stops and starts chatting with animals and plants like a damn disney princess, or how he randomly starts rambling about how some constellations don't look at all like the animals they're named after "Like, seriously, why did they name that one a lynx? That's obviously a snake hehehe"

But most importantly she loves how caring he is, how he's supportive and passionate about her interests just as much as she is, and how he makes her feel safe, and in turn she wants to protect him too.

I'm honestly debating with myself how I want Aster to go about the information he has known Asha all his life, like, I imagine he'd probably want to hide the fact because he didn't want to talk about the sad tragedy that led to her grandfather wishing upon him, yes Asha knows about the fire but he doesn't want to remind her and make her sad, because remember, at first he doesn't understand that sadness is just part of life.

But then like, would he pretend to not know her? Or would he be like a ghibli character and just nonchalantly say "Oh yeah, I’ve always known you" and never elaborate on that until the story demands it?

… Great, now I just had the idea of Aster functioning like Haku from Spirited Away, like they don't remember where he knows Asha from because he forgot what their previous wish was now that he’s granting a new one, let's say stars can only remember one wish at a time, then as he gets to know her better he starts to remember what his first wish was, and things start to make more sense.

I don’t know, like that’s cute but might be a bit too complicated, y’all tell me, I’m throwing ideas and seeing what makes sense, this whole thing is me asking for feedback after all.

Honestly I think the idea of Aster knowing Asha the whole time works because it not only gives a better explanation to why a star came down from the sky to help her, but also gives more sense to the lyrics “you still amaze me after all this time” in At All Cost.

Welp, I think that's all I got, thank you so much for following along with this series, and don't worry I'm not over yet, there are a few characters to talk about before I start sharing the actual script of this rewrite.

Thank You For Reading!

#Asha be having the worst day of her life and Aster pops up like #“HI! HOW ARE YOU? SO HAPPY TO BE HERE”#wish #wish 2023 #wish star #wish asha #wish disney #wish movie #star boy #asha x star #star x asha #human star #asha wish #asha x star boy #disney #disney wish #wish rewrite #long post

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hunnylagoon · 4 months

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Right Where You Left Me

Pt 3: Being So Normal

Ellie Williams x Reader

Horror pushes tears from my eyes as I uncover the corpses of your past relationships. Each of them dead and lifeless as the next. Because that is what you do, you ruin what is good and it makes me miss you less and less as everyday goes by.

Premise: You and Ellie were childhood friends until you drifted apart. Funny thing about soulmates is that they tend to find their way back to each other. On this night some questionable choices lead you to a vulnerable state where you run out of options.

Warnings: Angst / reader has religious issues / drinking / smoking / drugs

Part one here!

Part two here!

Part three here!

ELLIE

It wasn't as fun as I thought to watch you fall apart.

The morning after Christmas you left before I even woke, your makeshift bed made. You gathered all of the boxes of shit I collected off your dad's lawn and took off, leaving behind nothing more than a letter thanking my dad for his hospitality.

When I came back to Northridge a week later it was like I was looking at a new person.

Everything that had happened was swept under the rug, you lied and told the girls that you had a great Christmas. You started picking up overtime shifts, you were out more than you were at home.

I watch you stumble through the doors at five AM, makeup smeared, hair a mess and the fakest smile I have ever borne witness to, plastered across your face. You worked the closing shift almost every night and would go partying afterwards with your shitty co-workers who enabled this type of ruination.

I saw your stories too, shot after shot, In every single picture you nurse a drink in your hand or a cigarette wedged between your fingers. When did you even start smoking?

Abby and Cat didn't know just had bad you were but Dina was catching on. I remember how she would go out with you at the beginning, in her mind it had just been harmless fun until it was a nightly occurrence she started to get concerned.

It's like you've euthanized the person you used to be.

You can't even stand to be in a quiet room so you will it with nonsense conversation, hardly even words and laugh at your own jokes.

You used to glow. Back in middle school, you glowed like a candle that smelled of pumpkins and lattes, your love felt like sinking into a warm bath, comfort and security. In high school you glowed like the moon, no one could pry their wondering eyes away from your nerve-wracking beauty, gentle and empathetic.

Though now you do not glow, you burn. You burn like the end of a cigarette, the bud fluttering to the ground just to be crushed by the heel of muddy Converse. The spark of a lighter to ignite your stale menthol cigarette, slipped from bony fingers like clumsy matchsticks to the wilderness, to set what once was beautiful aflame.

Fire is only beautiful while it burns, I knew that soon you would smother yourself out to ashes.

I've been nourishing my withering body with 50-cent packets of ramen noodles.

I know that I'm not well, in fact, I think I've fallen off the rails.

When was the last time I got a full night of sleep? I'm not sure.

My days and nights bleed together and I can hardly differentiate the two. I hate everyone but I'm so starved for love I am searching everywhere for it, I look for it in dingy clubs and roadkill off the side of a highway, the bottom of a solo cup and the arms of one-night stands, I have even learned to lick it off silver knives. They have taken the rosery from my hand and replaced it with hard liquor.

I went out last night to forget like I do every single night. I look to the moon and pretend it is its being with thoughts and feelings, I act like I talk to it and it has said that it shines just for me.

Tonight, I will go out again. I smear glitter over my eyelids and slip into a silver sequin dress that doesn't even fall past my fingertips. I force my scabbed and bleeding feet into white stilettos that are sure to damage them even further. When I look in the mirror I feel a new sense of bitterness, like nicotine on the tip of my tongue, my face is thinning and my eyes are sunken in, dark bags hanging below the dull irisis. I cover it in concealer and bronze my face to help me look some sort of alive.

"Where are you going?" Dina asks me as I walk from my room and towards the front door, she has a tote bag packed up, her car keys in hand.

"The Monarch," I answer, it was a club on the main street, it tended to be the busiest also infamous for sketchy activity. My eyebrows furrow as I look at the tote bag in hand "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to Jesse's for the night, " She says, tonight her hair is loose and falling over her shoulders "Are you sure you wanna go out tonight?"

I nod, suddenly feeling vulnerable in my choice of clothing "Yeah," Sensing her judgement, I'm already getting defensive "I'm in college, all I do and go to work and school-

"Who's fault is that?" Dina cuts me off and my words fail me, I don't know what to say. She looks at me with disappointment glinting in her dark eyes.

My phone dings and I check the notification "My ride is here."

"Don't stay out too late."

"I won't," We both know that I am lying.

I have been many things over the years, a pirate, a cowboy, a warrior; over the past five months alone I have been a lonely girl and a saint, now I am a drunk who drowns out her worries in vodka and overly sweet cocktails.

"To being young, dumb, and broke!" Kayla raises her shot, and the rest of the group does the same. The small glasses clink together, and some of the vodka spills before we all swallow them back and slam them back onto the bar.

The central focal point was the expansive dance floor, alive with bodies moving in rhythmic unison. Multicoloured strobe lights cut through the haze, creating an otherworldly atmosphere.

The bar, a gleaming expanse of polished metal, beckoned with the promise of libations. Bartenders, clad in stylish attire, skillfully craft cocktails. The mirrored backdrop reflected the kaleidoscope of lights and the animated conversations that unfolded in this hub of social convergence.

Overhead, suspended fixtures resembling metallic sculptures add to the overstimulation.

"Welcome back," The bartender, Mitch, smiles at me, I know him by name now that I've been bouncing around from club to club almost every night. "Long Island ice tea?" He asks, to which I respond with a nod. He's memorized my drink too.

Kayla is beside me while the others have dispersed to dance or converse, she sips a dirty martini. Her beautiful copper hair is styled into loose curls, she is clad in all black, a tube top, a mini skirt and tall boots as well as a slightly oversized leather jacket thrown overtop. She looks like the definition of a cool girl.

Everyone liked her.

"So how are things with the roommates?" She asks me, her green eyes piercing mine, she has a slight smile on her perfect lips.

"It's fine," I lied, again. I knew Dina was getting tired of taking care of me when I was too drunk to make my own way home, all of the girls that Ellie brought over hated me. I haven't been seeing much of Abby but Cat and I were actually good.

I can tell that Kayla doubts my words but she carries on to another topic "Are you ready to get fucked up tonight?"

"Yes, ma'am," I giggle. Around the curved bar, I see a woman, she's in a red top and black jeans, her hair in a mousy brown shag cut. Obviously, she caught my eye. "Do you think she's gay?"

Kayla discreetly turns to look at the woman, she turns back to me grinning "No shit."

The woman catches me staring at her and smiles at me, of course, she has perfectly straight white teeth and a pretty smile. I sheepishly smile back "Hey, Mitch?" I wait for the bartender to give me his attention "Two shots of Everclear?"

That's how the majority of my night plays out; I dance for a minute, swaying to- not really swaying, I was dancing in a way that became a hazard to those around me then return to the bar to down more drinks.

"Hey," I hear a voice beside me, it isn't one I recognize, and when I face it, I feel my heartbeat pick up. It was the woman I had been eyeing, now that she's this close I can see the freckles scattered on her face. "Do you wanna dance?"

I can't help when my face splits into a smile, "For sure," I slip off the barstool and follow her onto the dancefloor, the lights are orange and hazy or maybe the haziness is caused by my drunken state. The woman says something to me but it's drowned out by the overwhelmingly loud music "What?"

"I'm Karris," She repeats, smiling down at me.

"Cool!" I say. I followed Karris' lead with the dancing, she had a certain confidence in her.

I swayed with each ungraceful movement. Karris, the opposite of me is attuned to the music, moved with a confident fluidity that balanced out my careless stumbles. She laughs at my dancing "Here, I'll help you out." She shouts, trying to be heard over the Rhianna song blasting in my ears.

She comes up behind me, snaking her hands down my torso until they find a resting spot on my hips. With a firm grip, she slows me down, and now I'm moving with her, as one.

My sequin dress shimmered with every twist and move, like a mirrorball, I too might hang. As the light shifts I could've sworn I saw Ellie in the face of Karris.

I felt the liquor hit me all at once and my body became loose, melting into Karris, I'm almost limp against her touch. She's in front of me now and my arms are hooked around her neck while her slim hands lay on her midriff.

Her eyebrows furrow as she says something to me but once again it it lost in all of the noise, I just laugh, pretending like I heard what she was saying and hoping that it wasn't something about her dog dying.

The pop song changes into some song in French, I can't make out the words. Wait, I aced every French test in high school, I step away from Karris, squinting my eyes as I stand still in the middle of the dancefloor trying to process the lyrics.

Je veux te voir- I need you, no, that doesn't sound right. I want to see you, that's it.

je veux t'avoir- I want to hold you.

I want to hold you? Is that it? When did my French get so rough? I can't even think straight.

I swear on every god I was so drunk that I forgot I was in the middle of a dancefloor, it had slipped from my mind that I was dancing with someone, and all I could think about was my French classes from high school.

Age fifteen - Grade 10

The French lesson seemed to be even more boring than usual that day. Monsieur Cargin was babbling on and on about how there could be a room full of women but if there was one male rat you would refer to them using ils instead of elles. It was the same lesson I had learned every single year in French.

It took Monsieur Cargin thirty minutes to announce the project. "Pour ce devoir, vous écrirez une lettre à un camarade de classe sur vous-même, vous pourrez inclure des informations sur votre famille, vos passe-temps, vos sujets préférés et peut-être un bon souvenir. Si vous êtes ami avec votre partenaire, vous pouvez écrire avec lui sur quelque chose que vous attendez avec impatience. La lettre fera au minimum un paragraphe, je viserais plus haut si vous voulez une bonne note." Easy enough, a letter to a classmate about your self. "Avant de demander, vous pouvez choisir vos propres partenaires."

I look right over to Ellie from across the room after he mentions choosing our own partners, she doesn't meet my gaze though, she looks as lost as ever, rifling through some papers in her binder and I'm not even sure she understood a word of what the teacher said.

Monsieur Cargin lets us begin our project, everyone gets up from their seat to search for a partner; Ellie, seeing that everyone is standing up, gets up as well. I wave her down to my desk, she crouches beside it and asks "What the fuck are we supposed to be doing?"

I explain the project to her while she hangs off my desk and nods at everything I'm saying, giving me her full attention "Do you get it now?"

"Yes."

The next day we finished writing the letters and had to give them to each other before we turned it in, I gave Ellie my letter first.

Ellie,

Je suis heureux que nous soyons amis, non seulement parce que nos parents nous ont forcés à l'être, mais parce que tu es mon âme sœur dans chaque vie. J'aimerais te parler de moi, mais tu me connais déjà mieux que moi-même, alors je vais juste dire certaines choses que je sais sur toi. Vous avez lu chaque couverture de la bande dessinée Savage Starlight, plus d'une fois. Je sais que vous aimez faire du shopping dans la section hommes des magasins parce que vous pensez que c'est plus confortable même si vous finissez par ressembler à Adam Sandler. Vous détestez les mathématiques même si vous êtes vraiment bon dans ce domaine et vous aimez l'anglais même si vous détestez les études romanesques. Vous parlez à toute vitesse parce que vous avez tellement de choses à dire et pas assez de temps pour le dire, vous chantez comme une église avec une chorale et chaque fois que je vous vois entrer dans une pièce, je ne peux m'empêcher de sourire. J'ai hâte d'entrer à l'université, nous pouvons être colocataires et décorer la maison exactement comme nous le voulons, merci de toujours me supporter.

(Translation)

Ellie,

I'm glad that we're friends, not just because our parents forced us to be but because you are my soulmate in every single life. I would like to tell you about me, but you already know me better than I know myself so instead I will just say some things I know about you. You have read every Savage Starlight comic cover to cover, more than once. I know that you like to shop in the men's section at stores because you think it's more comfortable even if you end up looking like Adam Sandler. You hate math even though you are really good at it and you love English even though you hate novel studies. You talk at a mile a minute because you have so much to say and not enough time to say it, you sing like a church with a choir in it and every time I see you walk into a room I can't help but smile. I can't wait for college, we can be roommates and decorate the house exactly how we want it, thank you for always putting up with me.

I bent the rubric a little bit, talking about Ellie rather than myself but we were really getting graded on our French comprehension, not the subject matter of the letter. Ellie read it through, over and over, nodding her head along and pretending that it made perfect sense but I can tell by the way she squints her eyes and furrows her eyebrows that it doesn't make sense. She hand hers to me next, pride clear across her face.

Ton père est toujours en colère et je pense que c'est pour ça que nous sommes mariés. J'apprécie quand tu dors dans ma chambre et que nous nous battons avec des pistolets à eau. Mon film préféré à regarder est Star Wars, mais j'apprécie aussi Hunger Games parce que vous en êtes témoin. J'attends avec impatience une soirée cinéma ce vendredi avec vous. Tu es très cool, merci d'être mon ami.

(Translation)

Your dad is always mad and I think that is why we are married. I enjoy when you sleep at my room and we fight with guns of water. My favourite movie to watch is Star Wars but I also enjoy Hunger games because you witness it. I look forward to night movie this Friday because with you. You are very cool, thank for being my friend.

I can't help but giggle when I read it over, this causes panic in Ellie "Why are you laughing, what's wrong with it?"

"I love you but you are definitely failing."

I quickly helped her rewrite it before we turned it in, and she ended up getting a B with my revisions.

"Are you okay?" I hear Karris, she looks a little on edge, probably because I went nonverbal and froze for a solid minute or two.

"She's fine," Kayla puts her hands on either of my arms which are currently plastered to my side "I'm just gonna snag her for a minute if you don't mind." Kayla didn't wait for a response she was already dragging me away, guiding me through the sea of people and into the bathroom.

I always hated the bathroom here. The walls were black tile with white grout and there was graffiti all over the stalls and ceiling, apparently, it added to the effect, I just thought it was fugly; not to mention how dimly lit it was, there were red LED strips behind the mirrors but that was about the only light source. If you were trying to fix your eyeliner, you

"What is going on with you?" Kayla leans against the counter with the sinks, I'm right in front of her with my arms crossed.

"Nothing-

"I just saw you glitch in real life," She raises her eyebrows "You literally froze, I thought you were having a stroke."

I wipe some sweat off my brow "My head hurts," I mutter, I've already had too much to drink and we really hadn't been there that long. My thoughts didn't seem to process. Now keep in mind that I was so insanely plastered that night that I don't remember everything verbatim, I had to take others' words for what happened.

"Do you want an aspirin?" Kayla asks to which I nod and she begins digging through her purse, she pulls out a little bottle and I hear the rattling of pills. It's so dark that I can only make out the vague shape of the bottle. She places a little pill into my hand and gives me a half-drunk bottle of Fiji water in my free hand.

I don't need the water though, I dry swallow it.

She tucks the bottle back into her purse and feels something, I see her eyes go wide and that alone begins to stress me out. "What?" I ask, with no answer. She dumps her purse onto the counter behind her and turns on her phone flash to look at each item, she snatches a bottle of Tylenol and takes the cap off just for her hand to fly over her mouth. "Is something wrong?"

"I didn't give you aspirin," She's fighting back laughter but her dainty features are etched with concern.

"So?" I say, "It's just Tylenol, it won't kill me," My speech is slurred from the alcohol in my system.

"Honey, it's not Tylenol," She lowers her hand from her mouth, pressing her lips together tight. "It's MDMA."

"What?"

"Ecstasy," She corrects herself, making it easier for me to understand.

"WHAT?" My eyes go wide and my jaw drops "WHAT?" I repeat, running over to one of the nasty graffiti-covered stalls and kneeling in front of it, sticking my fingers down my throat to try and throw up to get it out of my system before it sets in. "Say something gross to make me throw up!"

"Uhh," Kayla stood behind me "Think of your dad getting off with your grandma!"

"EW!" I shout, turning to look at her with disgust on my face. "Why would you say that?"

"You told me to say something gross!"

"Not that!" I cry, slouching against the stall. I wish I had a time machine, I wouldn't just go back four hours, I would go back four years and make sure I play everything right. Maybe then I wouldn't be drunk and high in the bathroom of a dingy nightclub and I would still have Ellie.

"It's okay, honey, It's clean," Kayla walks closer to me, the heels of her boots clacking on the tile "I promise," She offers me a little rub on the shoulder "I promise I'll take good care of you tonight and make sure you're safe."

She was lying through her teeth, and just an hour later I was face down on the bar, lulling in and out of consciousness. That is the exact moment I started to think it wasn't clean like Kayla had said. My high didn't feel like what I was told rolling was like.

At first, I felt fine and then everything started to feel off. You know when you spin around a bunch super fast and your world spins under your feet? It was like that.

Before I retired to the bar, I tried to get back on the dancefloor just for my body to betray me and collapse onto the ground, people around me had stopped to watch me stagger back onto my feet and wordlessly stumble away.

After I lift my head off the spruce bartop and don't see Kayla anywhere in sight for the seventh time, I reach for my phone that I had stuffed into my bra and dial up Dina.

I hear the hum of the tone before it clicks and I hear her static voice on the other end. "Hello?" Her voice crackles.

"Dina, I'm on drugs."

"What?" I hear some shuffling in the background then what sounds like the click of a door "What drugs? are you okay?"

"I don't know," My voice drags out "Kayla took it out of her purse, said it was MMA and I'm not-" I hiccup "I'm not doing well."

"What the hell is MMA? Isn't that mixed martial arts?"

"Dina, I'm not doing martial arts, I'm doing drugs."

She sighs and I can feel her disappointment through the phone "Are you still at Monarch?"

"Yes."

"Hang on," Something shifts in the background.

"I'm kind of scared."

"Please just stay where you are-

"I love you, Dina."

"I lo- CLICK

My phone dies, and the screen turns black. I click some buttons for a moment to ensure that it's dead before I tuck it back into my bra and let myself lull back onto the bar, I rest my head on my arms and look at the displays of liquor surrounding me.

I lose track of the time that passes, in my head I am just about the win the 72nd Hunger Games, it's down to me and another tribute. There's an intense fight, I wind up underneath her and she presses a blade to my throat, I get a good look at her face and see Ellie but her face doesn't stay the same. It morphs through every version of her I had ever known. When we were seven, her grunge phase, when she let me do her makeup. This is when I give up, I know I don't have it in me to kill her so I lay limp and await my fate-

"Hey," A man sits next to me, his presence stood out effortlessly. With a strong, chiselled jawline and well-defined features, his face carried an air of that old-money elegance. His hazel eyes were softened by something (alcohol, probably), drawing others into their captivating gaze. Dark, tousled hair framed his face, adding an intriguing touch of ruggedness. He is clad in a white button-up and dress pants, I can well he's a blue-collar man just from the way he sits.

"What?" I squint my eyes at him.

"You're really pretty, I thought I would introduce myself," He smiles "I'm Emmet."

"Okay," I answer turning my attention to look ahead at the liquor display, watching the way the lights shone through them. Right now I don't care to make conversation, even if he looks like Henry Cavell, I'm fighting to stay awake.

One of his bulky hands reaches for my necklace, four of his fingers are beneath the cross, pressed against it while his thumb rubs it "You're religious."

I look down where he cradles my cross and try to jerk away but my body feels too heavy "Not anymore," I mutter. I put one of my hands over his to move it off me, he takes this as an invitation to hold my hand.

Emmet brings his head next to mine to whisper in my ear "So does that mean you're a good girl or a bad girl-

"It means she's leaving, actually," Ellie pushes him away abruptly, he looks taken aback while she doesn't give a shit. She begins to gingerly help me off the stool "Do you have everything?"

"Why are you here?" I ask "I called Abby."

"You called Dina and she's on the other side of town with her boyfriend so she sent me." Ellie slings one arm around me and I sink into her immediately.

"I hate you so much," I murmur under my breath.

"Yeah, I bet you do," She is gentle with me, she's treating me like I'm made of porcelain and I'll shatter at the slightest bit of harm.

Emmet looks crazily offended, his hands up in defence "Hey, we were having a conversation-

"Borderline harassment doesn't constitute a conversation." Ellie looks like she rolled out of bed, she is in her grey sweatpants and field hockey hoodie, her hair in the low ponytail she always wore to sleep. "Are you okay?" She asks, her tone shifting from harsh to soft.

"Mhm," I ball my fist up and rub my eye, smearing my mascara when I do so, I look down at my hand and see the remnants of my telescopic mascara and silver glitter smudged on it.

I am killing myself slowly and it is no crucifixion.

As Ellie helps me into the back seat of her car I feel like mold is growing on my bones just to way me down to the concrete where I will surely rot. "I don't write enough," I mumble "And I'm so lonely I'm searching for god everywhere but I can't find him."

Ellie gives me a little hum of acknowledgment her eyes briefly shooting to me in the rearview mirror before looking back to the road.

"Don't worry, I'm not in love with you anymore," I say nonchalantly as I'm sprawled out in her back seat, watching the light from neon signs pass us by.

"I didn't know you ever were." She says softly, hands on the steering wheel, she steals glances at me. The towering skyscrapers loomed like sentinels, their reflective glass surfaces capturing the myriad colours of neon signs that adorned the streets.

"I hate you," I add on. The mix of liquor and whatever drug Kayla gave me was doing me justice, I couldn't hold back any thought, they all fell from my lips in a jumbled mess. "I hope you die, I hope we both die." Ellie doesn't have anything to say to that. I think to myself that if I die in this moment, I would not be afraid, I would greet death like an old friend with a bright smile and warm hug. "I don't love anyone the way I love you," My head lulls against the window "And your girls, they all hate me."

"So which is it?" She asks, feeding into my tangent "Do you love me or do you hate me?"

"I-" I think about it for a brief moment "I hope if I killed myself everyone who was ever mean to me felt responsible." I look up slightly, using the car seats to help me steady myself "What are you doing?"

"I'm taking you home," She says, biting the inside of her cheek "What are you doing?"

"I'm waiting for god to call me back."

I ramble on and on, it's a miracle that she didn't stop at the side of the road and dump me onto a curb. The traffic lights painted the road in hues of red and green, and the city lights flickered like stars, helping us find our way home.

"Ellie," I say, a building up ahead catches my eyes "Ellie, pull over!" She thinks I'm going to throw up so she pulls her gray sedan over, as swiftly as possible. I stumble out of the car, my stiletto heel catches the ground in a weird way, my ankle goes sideways and I fall with it.

"Shit," Ellie rushes from the driver's seat to help me sit up straight. I use her as support to pull myself off the concrete sidewalk completely and walk towards the church up ahead like a zombie "Where are you going?"

"To clean myself from sin," I approach the church and force the heavy doors open; I knew for a fact even in my state that this church had its chapel open twenty-four hours from all of the Google pins my mom sent me when I first moved here.

The chapel's interior was bathed in a soft, ethereal moonlight that filtered through stained glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope of colours upon the polished wooden pews below.

Smooth, cool stone formed the foundation of the chapel. The high, arched ceilings reached towards the heavens, adorned with wooden beams that seemed to cradle the sacred space below. The acoustics, shaped by the architecture, lent an echo to the moonlight whisper as if the very walls absorbed and magnified the prayers of the faithful.

Rows of meticulously arranged pews lined either side of a central aisle, leading towards the altar bathed in a soft glow. Carved with intricate detail, the altar served as the focal point, adorned with candles, floral arrangements, and sacred symbols. The air was scented with the subtle fragrance of incense, a sensory companion to the spiritual journey within.

Throughout the chapel, unlit candles are spread throughout. Above the altar, a crucifix hung solemnly, a symbol of sacrifice and redemption. Rays of moonlight seemed to converge upon it, imbuing the sacred symbol with a profound sense of grace.

I try to compose myself the way you would a song or a speech and fall to my knees before the altar, clasping my hands together tightly. "My God, I am sorry for my sins with all my heart. In choosing to do wrong and failing to do good, I have sinned against you whom I should love above all things. I firmly intend, with your help, to do penance, to sin no more, and to avoid whatever leads me to sin. Our Savior Jesus Christ suffered and died for us. I wake young but feel as though my bones have resided on this earth for centuries."

I am at his altar but I don't feel him around me, where is his steady hand which used to guide me?

My hands grasp together even tighter "I am filthy, I'm disgusting," I choke out "I'm all used up and I need you to help me get better," I break my hands away from their position to wipe my eyes free of any oncoming tears before putting them right back "Fill me with your purity, I will be waterboarded by your sacred hand until holy water leaks from my pores."

Ellie hangs around by the entrance, sketched out by not only the creepy church but also my off-putting behaviour. She flinches at every shadow she sees, believing it to be a homeless person who was residing there for the night. I'm kneeling over in my sequin dress, one of the straps slips down my shoulder and my dress rides up, this is the most sinful I have ever been, synthetic sunshine coursing through my system.

"Make me love myself so I have room to love you," I feel so repulsive and dirty, soap and water won't make me feel clean so I'll try bleach and matches instead "I ask for Your mercy and grace to cleanse me from all unrighteousness. Create in me a clean heart, God, and renew a right spirit within me, return my family to my side."

I search for some sort of sign that he is watching over me.

Nothing.

No sign that he is here.

The priest at my old church in my hometown had said that without doubt there was no room for faith. It wasn't doubt, it was absolution, he is not here and so I unclasped my golden cross necklace and discarded it on the ground before the altar, never again will I be haunted by a man who has failed to ever show me mercy.

Ellie washes the grime off me with the detachable shower head. My hair is clipped up and I am hugging my knees, facing away from her in the bathtub. I feel a profound sense of shame and embarrassment all over again despite everything within me that is helping to take the edge off.

She holds the shower head but looks away to give me some false sense of dignity, I cried the whole way home from the church about being filthy but with how many times I had fallen over, she didn't want me to hit my head in the shower so we settled on this.

"I'm done," I mutter and right away Ellie turns the shower off and grabs my house robe from one of the hooks on the door, she holds it up and waits for me to stand, still averting her eyes. I stand slowly, gripping onto the rim of the tub for dear life. When I slip into it, Ellie helps me move out of the bathtub and into my bedroom.

She lifts me onto the bed and tucks me in beneath my satin duvet cover. Ellie leaves for a moment but when she returns she has a bowl in case I need to vomit, a class of water, a sleeve of saltines and a bottle of actual aspirin.

"Goodnight," She begins to shut the door but I stop her.

"Ellie?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you stay with me?" My voice breaks as I say it "Just for tonight, I don't want to be alone." Wordlessly, she shuts the door and comes around the right side of my bed; Ellie is careful keep her distance from me but unlike Christmas, we face each other. "I don't hate you." I tell her because that is all I could recall saying in the car ride.

"I know."

"Do you hate me?"

"Of course not."

I don’t think I’m a whole person anymore, I think I’m made up from a dozen different perceptions of me. This version of me, born that night was anything but pure.

I am unlovely, so please, hold me gently and do not wreck me any further.

A/N: The drinking age in Canada is nineteen! They go to school in the true north strong and free. Also one more part left to go 👀

Tag list!

@elliesaturnsoftdrink @elliesaesp @melanie-watermelon @yalaysbee @laundrybag29 @readbydayana @skylerwhitwyo @lmaoo-spiderman @joliettes @kittnii @taylorgracies @sameenatruther @mikellie @belles-hell

Sorry if I missed anyone!

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awfcspencer · 3 months

Text

Sweet N Low || alexia putellas x reader

alexia putellas x reader

prompt: Alexia and you are in a friends with benefits situation, but what if you each realize you each want something more but at different times.

warnings: angst, smut (top!alexia with bottom!reader), begging, fingering, strap

a/n: inspired by sweet n low by lily kincade with some of the lyrics slightly modified to fit better.

Part 2 Here

“She leaves my place at 3 a.m. She’s just here to take the edge off”

“Alexia… please I’m close” You beg out, gripping the white satin sheets. You and Alexia had been at it all night.

Alexia was kneeling with her face between your legs as she sucks on your clit with a harsh tug every so often. Her fingers knuckle deep in your heat as she watches you come apart under her. The panting breaths and the moans leaving your mouth filled the room as Alexia pounded into you.

“Cum” is all she needed to say.

Feeling the familiar tight coil in your stomach. Your back arches off the bed and your hips buck forward as you reach orgasm for the third time tonight.

“Fuck” Your raspy, breathless voice cries out.

Alexia helps guide you through your high as your legs spasm and your thoughts are no longer clouded with the stress of the work week that you had experienced, but rather drunk off the way Alexia is touching you.

Alexia didn't want to stop, she had to keep going. She didn't want to face the reality that when you were done, you would leave. You never spent the night. No post-sex shower or cuddles. At the end of the night, Alexia would be all alone.

Alexia licks another hot stripe up your sensitive heat as you try to pull away from her, knees buckling. But she is a lot stronger than you, placing a hand on your stomach as she pushes you back down.

“Alexia” you whimper out. The room is hot, sweat droplets have formed on your forehead.

“One more. I know you have one more.” she demands. She continues her ministrations on your clit, her tongue buried deep inside you, sending ripples of pleasure throughout your body.

It doesn’t take long for you to reach your high and Alexia knows it. She can tell by the way your thighs tighten around her head, moans becoming louder. You ride out your high and Alexia cleans you up with a warm towel and grabs the water she had placed on the nightstand.

You lingered in her bed, in her arms, as your body comes down. Far longer than you meant to, but not nearly long enough for Alexia. But now you need to go, another long work week ahead of you. It’s routinely at this point. You collect your clothes of the bedroom floor that Alexia threw off when you had first arrived and leave. No hug or kiss goodbye, just a forward head nod and a promise to text her when you arrived home. It was easiest this way you thought, not wanting to ruin what you had going on. Alexia was there to take the edge off.

Each time you left, Alexia felt a piece of her heart break, not that she would ever tell you that though.

“I like it when she misses me. So, I make it a habit to be keeping myself busy.”

Meetings, meetings, and more meetings. A high executive job that requires your upmost time and effort. You had worked your way up the corporate ladder on your own. You had rightfully earned everything that came to you.

In the middle of another late night spent at the office, you hear a ping that gains your attention. An all too familiar ping at this hour.

A simple text from Alexia, ‘Come over.’

You had been plenty busy prepping for a huge presentation that could be influential for your career. Maybe purposefully ignoring Alexia, secretly loving when she missed you. Wanting to hear her beg, beg you to come over, just like when you have to beg her to let you cum. You click the call button and it barely rung twice before Alexia picked up.

“Hello.”

“Quick answer. Must be extra needy.” you hum out, knowing you were riling her up, getting on her nerves. The sex was always better this way.

It was an interesting dynamic between the two of you. You held the power in deciding when you would go over, when you would let her fuck you senseless. Alexia held all the power in the bedroom though. It was the easiest way to forget everything going on. To clear your mind. A release. Letting Alexia guide your body to a release.

“Come over.” she demanded again in a stern voice. You can tell she meant every word, a tiny hint of desperation that only you would be able to pick up on though.

“Now you know that is not how it works Alexia.” It was like giving Alexia a taste of her own medicine. You needed to hear it, hear her beg for you.

“Please.”

“Please what Alexia?” You knew you were already going to give in to the desire. Packing up your belongings and swiftly exiting the office.

“Please come over.” Alexia begs.

“Now was that so hard? I was already on my way.” You baited her and did it successfully. A small huff leaving the midfielder’s mouth right before you hung up.

—————

A desperate Alexia was always means for rough sex.

Pounding into you from behind as if her life depended on it. Hips hoisted upwards with help from a pillow. Your ass in the air, Alexia’s favorite view, bent over begging as she stroked in and out with impeccable pace. An impending orgasm sitting in your tight stomach.

Alexia quickens her pace, hitting deep with every thrust. Pleasure is rippling through your body as you began to quiver, desperate to let go. But you knew the rules, Alexia’s rules.

“Ale… Please, please… let me cum” You didn’t think you could hold any longer. Your words came out in breathy moans. The tension in your core ached and your legs were sore, Alexia was on one tonight.

The nickname had slipped out of your mouth. An accident that was quickly forgotten as you tried to not reach your high without her permission.

Alexia was blindsided by the nickname, you always called her Alexia, never Ale. Thoughts of what this could possibly mean, were you falling for her like she was falling for you? Caught up in the moment she almost forgot to let you let go.

“Cum for me.”

Her words were the final straw, sending your body over the edge. She coaxes you through your orgasm, slowing down her movements and eventually pulling out.

The routine began again, the warm towel and the water. Each night, for some reason that you weren’t necessarily sure of just yet, you would spend longer and longer in Alexia’s arms. Her strong arms wrapped around your smaller body, it was comforting and safe.

You had to leave though, the routine would be broken. It worked better this way. Alexia understood the rules, understood why they were put there in the first place. A late night hookup, friends with benefits situation, nothing more. What happens when one wants more though?

The nickname you had used for Alexia sent a wave of confidence through her body. She wanted you to stay. She wanted to spend the night cuddling your warm body. She wanted to make you breakfast in the morning and spend the day on the couch watching a film. She wanted you to stay. She didn’t want to be alone anymore, she wanted you.

Trying to untangle yourself from the Spaniard, you can tell she is lost in thought. Like she was trying to figure something out in her head.

“Stay?” Her voice was vulnerable and quiet. She knew that it was uncharted territory, uncharted for a reason. Her eyes locked in a staring match with yours. She could tell it was a battle deciding in your head.

Should you stay or should you go?

Against every single fiber in your body that screamed no, you lied back down, your chest finding her back as you relaxed into her.

As you dozed off in her arms, her scent invading your nose, you swore up and down that this was a one time thing. In no way shape or form would you be staying over again. It could ruin the setup you two had, no one was supposed to catch feelings. Tonight was just different. A one time occurrence.

Unfortunately for Alexia, she was far to deep. Since the arrangement had been made, she wanted to scream at the top of her lungs that she fucked up, she had fallen for you. Besides the life altering sex the two of you had, in the small moments where the two of you were actually friends, she could see your humor, you always managed to make the usually serious captain laugh. She loved the passion you had for your job because she had it for hers too. Your smile made her smile, your laugh made her laugh. Ultimately, Alexia knew she had fucked up, she had caught feelings when the one simply rule was don’t catch feelings.

Waking up early the next morning, Alexia was set on making a lovely breakfast for the two of you to enjoy. Her smile quickly falling though, your side of the bed was cold and empty. Alexia thought that maybe, just maybe, you also wanted something more, but she guesses she was completely wrong. Your absence speaking volumes. A single text message on her phone from you, ‘home’.

Ever since you had stayed over that one night, you found yourself staying over several nights after that, but always leaving before Alexia woke up.

Alexia was hurt, more than hurt. Her heart was broken. She couldn’t keep doing this to herself, it wasn’t fair to her. It seemed obvious that that feelings were not mutual so she forced herself to move on, she had to, or she would never get over you. She knew a girl at the local cafe near the training grounds who was interesting, maybe she would finally take her up on her offer for a date.

You had left a few hours before Alexia had woken up. It was the routine. You could not fall for Alexia, and you hadn’t, yet. Pushing the thoughts of Alexia to the back of your mind as you start yet another busy week at work.

“Yeah, she says she talks to other people. But I guess that’s okay if we’re both saying that we’re single.”

Alexia had been distant the last few days. Your texts were delivered, you were sure of it, but there was silence from the other end of the line.

You thought about calling her, missing her. Her body. And secretly maybe her strong arms and comforting post-sex cuddles.

You had tried so hard to force yourself not to fall for the girl, but maybe you had? Maybe you had fallen for Alexia?

Thankfully Alexia had shown signs of life and requested you to come over. You hadn’t seen her in a few days so you hoped tonight would be rough. But it wasn’t.

Alexia took things slow, kissing every inch of your body, almost as if she was savoring the taste of you, like she wouldn’t ever taste you again. Forcing Alexia lower as you were getting impatient, she suddenly stopped and sat up.

“Is there something wrong” You asked, thighs rubbing together to get some sort of friction to where you really needed it.

“I’m talking to someone.”

Her words hit like you like a truck. You had just gotten to a place where you had accepted maybe you had fallen for the girl. The girl who even when she fucked you raw, always made sure to clean you up and give you food and water. The girl who stayed up after rounds of tiring sex to make sure she received your text that you had arrived home. The girl who shared similar interests and passions with.

Fuck, you had fallen for Alexia when she clearly hadn’t fallen for you.

“Oh… yeah that’s good, yeah good for you. I um, I’ve got to go, early meeting tomorrow.” You quickly reply. Needing to escape not only the embarrassment, but also the pain in your heart.

Collecting your clothes, just like in the routine, you couldn’t bare to make eye contact with her. Tears begging to leave your eyes. And as you walked out of Alexia’s home for the last time, you had come to terms that Alexia simply hadn’t felt the same. You didn’t expect her to, you were both single anyway, a situation-ship that had to end sometime right?

#woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #woso one shot #woso soccer #woso blurbs #womens soccer #woso couples #woso smut #alexia putellas x y/n #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #alexia x reader #barca femeni #barcelona femeni

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jakexneytiri · 1 year

Note

hii here are some ideas/deets from my last request <3

- scenario where y/n has like a super rough pregnancy and she’s always sick and vomiting. Lots of fluff but also kind of angst idk??!! the kids are worried abt her and neteyam as well so he takes on all 4 kids by himself and lets y/n rest

- neteyam and y/n have their 5th baby and the details on the birth and all the other kids meet the baby and its just a lot of fluff!! and jake and neytiri meet the baby too as well as loak, kiri, tuk

IM SO EXCITED IF U WRITE THESE OMG AND TAKE UR TIME <3

AWEEE i love your mind! (the second part of your request is comingggg, i’ll post it when it’s finished :D)

in sickness and in health

⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰

a sharp jolt of pain surges through your abdomen, forcing you awake as you sit up, wincing. you gently place your hand on your lower stomach, feeling strong kicks right where your hand is placed. you begin to take short, shallow breaths, as another kick lands just below your ribcage.

your mouth begins to salivate as you grab the pot closest to you. you knew the feeling all too well. it’s been happening every morning for the past several months. sweat beads on your forehead, collecting and dripping down your face, while your entire body feels like it’s overheating. that familiar feeling returns to the back of your throat, causing you to gag. you begin dry heaving, which turns into vomiting everything you consumed the night prior.

meanwhile, neteyam is just outside of your marui, peeking through the flap every now and then to keep an eye on you. truthfully, he’s been worried sick about you, especially these past few months. you both are familiar with all the symptoms of pregnancy. you’ve been pregnant four times now. but it’s never been this bad. so, he decided to give neytiri a page through his throat comm, hoping she might have some answers to your worsening symptoms.

“mother, is this normal?…yes, she’s still getting sick. it’s every morning, i thought you said that would stop. i don’t know what to do, how to help her…i feel so useless. i just want to ease her pain, please…” his voice cracks with his last beg. “please help me help h-” his ears perk up to the sound of you vomiting. “i must go. it is happening again. please send grandmother!”

neteyam quickly opens the flap, seeing you doubled over, emptying the contents of your stomach into the pot he set aside for you. guilt courses through him, settling like a rock in the bottom of his stomach as he hastily makes his way to you.

you feel your mate’s warm hand run along your back, attempting to comfort you while his other hand holds the braids out of your face. once you’re certain you’ve thrown up everything in your system, you sit back against the wall of your home.

neteyam goes to move the pot outside, as to not make you more nauseous. he grabs a bowl of water as he makes his way back to you, guilt clawing at his insides.

you slightly pull your knees to your chest, as best as you can with being pregnant, and bury your face in your arms, sobbing.

neteyam kneels beside you, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. it broke his heart in two seeing you like this.

just then, you hear the flap to your marui open, revealing your four children, with jake, neytiri, and mo’at. neteyam looks up, glaring at his mother and father, speaking through gritted teeth. “i thought you weren’t supposed to be back for a few more hours.”

“yeah, we weren’t expecting this either. it’s an emergency, we gotta go.” jake quickly says, holding the flap open.

“what? dad-sir…i’m not leaving her!” neteyam begins to raise his voice, fist clenched at his side as his other hand is still rubbing your back.

“neteyam.” neytiri gently says. “we would not ask if it was not necessary.”

you give your mate’s arm a gentle squeeze, silently encouraging him to go. “it is all right,” you speak, your voice extremely hoarse. “grandmother is here, i’ll be okay.”

“we gotta go, now!” jake’s yelling now, and neteyam stands, quickly grabbing his bow before kneeling to kiss your forehead. “i love you. i’m so sorry, i’ll be back soon, okay?”

Neteyam turns one last time to lock eyes with you, before being yanked away by his parents.

“mama? where’s daddy going?” se’ayl asks, looking at the flap where her grandparents and father just exited.

i want to go with him!” tsantu states, a firm grip on the bow strung around his shoulder.

“mom, i’m tired.” txonuk yawns, stretching his arms above his head and curling up to your side.

nima gently stretches her hands over your protruding stomach, shifting them around a few inches. “wanna feel kicks!”

“children, please!” mo’at exclaims. “let your mother rest.” she begins taking out herbs and plants from her satchel, mixing them with water in a large bowl.

“it’s all right…” you say weakly. “daddy’s going hunting with grandma and grandpa, he’ll be back soon. you can’t go with him, it’s only a trip for adults. you know what, txonuk? mama’s sleepy too. how about we all lay down for a nap, and when we wake up, grandpa grandma and daddy will all be back!”

you shift forward slightly, so your head is resting on your pillow instead of your back. txonuk curls right up to your side, draping your arm over himself like a blanket. se’ayl and tsantu follow, laying beside you comfortably. nima rests her head on your stomach, ear perked up against your skin to “listen” to the baby. mo’at raises the bowl she’s been preparing to your lips. “drink, child. it will help with the nausea.”

you lift your head up, parting your lips just enough for the cool liquid to ease its way down your throat. “thank you, grandmother.”

mo’at nods, setting the bowl aside. “you may rest, i will keep watch until they return.”

“no, no…i can………..stay……………….awake…….” your eyelids droop with exhaustion as you speak, and as you speak your last word, they stay closed. you finally succumb to a comfortable sleep, as you wait for your mate to return.

⋆｡ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

#neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x you #neteyam sully x you #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam sully x y/n #dad!neteyam #dad neteyam #daddy neteyam #dilf!neteyam

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vorrentis · 4 months

Text

M Reader x Momo - Forbidden Love (Part 3)

So, it's NOT the final chapter.

AN at bottom for explanation.

WORDS: 18151

===============================================

"Momo...I..."

Your words failed to escape as her words literally crushed yours.

"..."

You cleared your throat, shifting uneasily in your place.

"Momo," you began, your voice soft and tinged with regret, "...I'm sorry, I-I didn't know you were-"

You gulped as Momo didn't respond.

"..."

"...I'm sorry I haven't been here for you as much as I used to, but you work, our parents have me tied down and-"

"It's always about work with you," she said, her voice trembling, feeling a mixture of vulnerability and honesty, "is that honestly more important than me?"

"..."

Momo's eyes flared for a second till almost closed and she hugged herself while looking away.

"S-sorry, sorry I-I didn't mean to-..." Momo took a deep breath while you sat there.

You hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words to convey the depth of your emotions.

In those ticking moments, your brain went into overdrive.

It was like a mental race, thoughts sprinting in all directions, the air heavy with unexpressed feelings as a rush of conflicting emotions surged within your chest.

In the hushed silence, your mind raced, thoughts colliding like a storm and each choice presented its own set of consequences, and the pressure to choose loomed large but as time collected, you felt the weight of the right choice settle, a realization echoing in your mind.

With determination etched on your face, you took a deep breath, seizing the seconds to embrace the uncertainty that lay beyond.

"..."

GRASP (Gently)

You reached out and took her hand, squeezing it to provide comfort as Momo turned to you, her eyes evident of her feelings as you swallowed your feelings and needed to say something back.

"I...I miss those times too, Momo. I can't tell you how sorry I am about you feeling like this. You know I never, ever want you to feel even a percent of what you're in now," Momo very slowly moved her head, "of course, I thought about us together. I truly do think about being with you daily Momo."

"..."

"And I never meant for work or any other responsibilities to overshadow us Momo," you continued, your gaze locked with hers, "My job or our parents aren't more important; it's just...complex, but trust me I want to be there for you to Momo. To cherish the moments we shared just like we used to. I don't want you to feel neglected or unimportant. You mean the world-no everything to me."

Her grip on your hand tightened, and a small, hopeful emotion came upon feeling it.

"..." you took a deep breath, "and I promised you ever since I could that I would be there for you no matter what Momo, first as a brother, but now as something deeper. I was there for you when you needed me the most before and I'll be damn if I left you feeling like this. I want to be there for you for as long as I can Momo. I'm sorry for you going through a tough time, but you don't have to worry any longer. I can't promise how quickly, but I'll be here. To be there for you to get through it together like we've always done."

Momo's eyes glistened with delight as a tear descended with her hold on your hand tightening.

You appear to have done the right thing as Momo quickly got on her knees and hugged you; nuzzling into your neck and digging her free arm around your neck with strength rivaling a boa.

"T-Thank you (YN)...you-you are the best..." she whispers in your ear as you hug back, no words needed from you.

The world outside ceased to exist, and all that mattered was the connection between you and her.

Though you felt the heaviness of the decision settling in, all decided in the blink of an eye.

But as the hug deepened, you could feel the unspoken words echoing between your hearts.

That's also when you realized that you two were still nude as Momo's naked body was pressing against yours and common sense returned as you cleared your throat.

"Uh, Momo, I hate to ruin this, but we should get dressed, no telling if any of the girls will come."

Momo pulled away, much to her dismay, but it was a more pleasant sight...

was adorned with an infectious grin that stretched from ear to ear.

Her eyes sparkled with an inner light as if happiness itself had taken residence within her, revealing the depth of their joy, and a contagious warmth emanating from them.

There was an unmistakable sense of fulfillment, a silent acknowledgment that, yes, this was the right decision.

"Yeah, you're probably right, Mina and Chae are out walking too, but we're talking more about this."

You nodded as you two stood from their spot and went to gather their clothing.

----------------------------------

TIMESKIP

14 Minutes Later

"So how close are we?" Mina asked Chaeyoung while fanning herself from the heat, "The heat is agonizing,"

"You should hear the water in a minute or two." Chaeyoung waved held hands hers and Mina's up and down.

After a long walk and lugging what's left of their lunch from their picnic, Chaeyoung decided to take Mina to the waterfall, the same one where you and Momo were at the moment.

"Good, I need to be in the water ASAP. You think (YN) and Momo are there?" Mina asked as Chaeyoung shrugged.

"Who knows, if they are great, if not, even better."

"How is that better?" Mina turned to her girlfriend who turned back to Mina.

"Cause we get some alone time~" Chaeyoung smiled as Mina rolled her eyes.

"We already had plenty before coming here,"

"Oh don't act like you don't want it too~" Chaeyoung's smile turned to a devilish grin as Mina pursed her lips, "knew it,"

Mina's response was side-bumping Chaeyoung as the younger one giggled back.

It was a few moments later in peace Mina started to hear something...

SHHSHSHSHHSHSHHSH

"And there's the water." Chaeyoung pointed forward and started to pick up the pace, "Come on Mina!" eventually dragging Mina forward as they were linked.

"Ah-Chae relax." Mina almost fell, but she picked up the pace to match Chaeyoung and another few moments later...

"Now this is a sight," Mina complimented as Chaeyoung stared with the memories of her family and herself being here long ago.

"It sure is...oh! And there's (YN) and Momo." Chaeyoung pointed at the two sitting on the shore, both positioned to be looking at the duel waterfalls.

"Hey! (YN)! Momo!"

The two turned quickly to Chaeyoung's voice and saw her waving fast and high as Mina was at her side.

You and Momo waved back, surprised at the sudden appearance of the two as you turned to Momo.

"Now I'm really glad we got our clothes on." You noted as Momo nodded while her sisters walked towards you both sitting where the water was to your mid-torso.

"I see you found the place." Chaeyoung started while being near the two.

"We did. It's pretty relaxing," You said to them as they dropped their bags near the water end.

"It seems like it," Mina answered, "it's truly beautiful,"

Looking at the two, you remembered what Momo said about the two being together.

Mina was one of Momo's closest friends from Sixteen till now and Chaeyoung was fun and energetic throughout the week, they do seem nice together.

"It's like I remembered," Chaeyoung took a look at the scenery and inhaled a large amount of the outdoor air, "I'm hopping in," Chaeyoung then grabbed the helm of her shirt and pulled it over, revealing her pink bikini top, "Mina?"

"In a bit Chae."

"Alright, you two?" Chaeyoung asked dumping her shirt and started walking into the water.

"We're worn out," Momo said as you nodded, "now we're planning stuff,"

"Suit yourself, you better come with me Mina," Chaeyoung dipped her toes into the water as Mina smiled at her back, "and it's perfect~"

She took off her sandals as Mina joined you two sitting, dipping her feet into the temperate water while Chaeyoung was already swimming away.

"Full of energy she is," Mina stated, but she talked in Japanese since the trio shared the same language, "so, what are you two planning?" Mina asked turning to you both.

"About (YN) staying in Seoul permanently," Momo answered in Japanese as well.

Mina took a look at you and then Momo.

"Really?" She repeated.

"Yeah," Mina turned to Momo nodding as she smiled afterward.

"Wow, well that's wonderful, but uh, but can you?" Mina asked you as you shrugged.

"That's why we're discussing. It's gonna require a lot of planning, it's not as easy as you would think. Especially in the position I'm in with our parents."

"Your parents? What's wrong?"

"(YN) is...well, we'll talk about it when we get back with the others," Momo capped the conversation as Mina nodded.

"Alright. Regardless, it does sound like it'll be some effort, but the eight of us can help too." She stated while you smiled at Momo's J-line partner.

"Arigato Mina," Momo said to her nodding back.

"Mina!" Chaeyoung's voice echoed in the area.

"Alright, I'm coming! The things I do for her," and removed her top to reveal a lilac floral bikini top, "at least the water isn't too cold," Mina slowly went in and within half a minute, she was swimming towards her girlfriend.

As Mina swam towards Chaeyoung, the sun cast a warm glow on the serene waters of the isolated water spot.

The conversation about staying in the city permanently lingered in the air between you and Momo, creating a sense of uncertainty about the future.

After a few seconds of side-eyeing Momo moved her feet in the water, head hung watching the ripples being caused, you turned forward and let a silent sigh out.

Navigating family expectations and planning for a permanent stay in Seoul wasn't as simple as you made it be, or what Momo seems to think.

-----------------------------------------------

TIMESKIP

"And here you go Tzuyu," you walked over to her side and placed a plate in front of her, "careful, it's hot,"

Tzuyu smiled at her well-prepared meal.

"Looks good," she turned to you, "thank you (YN),"

You nodded.

"No problem, but all the credit goes to Jihyo and Nayeon, they did all the work," you pointed at them towards the island table.

"And thank you for your instructions." Jihyo stated while cleaning up her section as Nayeon kept stirring the pot of curry, "And you better leave the recipe too."

"It's not much different from a Japanese Curry, it's my variation of it."

"Someone knows their cooking." Nayeon gave a grin as you turned from Tzuyu and towards the two.

"Google helps," you joked as they both smiled, "now then, you two can serve yourself, I'll clean up."

"You sure?" Jihyo asked.

"Go ahead,"

"Cool," "Thanks (YN)," both girls stopped their tasks and helped themselves to a plate, and started to serve.

You looked at the table after and the other seven girls were enjoying themselves, each one digging into the meal along with Momo eating, but slowly.

You let a silent sigh out through your nostrils.

Since coming back from the lake, Momo's energy seemed shot, not to the point of being miserable, but not the high energy she had the whole week, she was like another Tzuyu.

Understandable though.

The emotional baggage Momo had been carrying, the weight of decisions and plans, seemed to have taken a toll on her usual vibrant demeanor.

As you observed Momo slowly consuming her food, you had a sense of concern for her.

The meal continued, laughter and chatter were filling the air, and the other girls, immersed in their enjoyment, hadn't noticed the subtle shift in her mood but you.

Jihyo decided to sit next to Momo as there was an empty seat.

"Momo tell your brother to send us more recipes, 'cause this is good~" Jihyo already took a spoonful on the way to the table as Momo nodded.

"He cooked this all the time, huh Otouto," Momo said from her seat as you nodded at her.

As they exchanged glances, she managed a small smile, appreciating the unspoken support.

"If anyone wants seconds there's more in these pans," You informed the girls.

"Me!" "I'll get some more," Dahyun and Chaeyoung rose from their seats as you continued to clean up.

5 MINUTES OF CLEANING UP LATER

After seconds were served, you were lucky enough to have enough for two more servings, but now it wasn't the time.

You nodded to yourself and looked at the table of Twice sitting and finishing up their meals.

"Guess by the number of plates you girls ate, looking at you Sana," you pointed at the second J-line member while heading towards them.

"Hey..."

"You girls enjoyed it?"

"Very," "Yup," "I need the recipe (YN), I mean it." Jihyo pointed at you nodding back at her.

"I'll write it down for you in a bit."

"Thank you."

"But right now, there's something Momo and I need to talk about to the rest of you."

The atmosphere shifted as you addressed the group, their attention was now focused on the upcoming discussion.

"Everything okay?" Nayeon questioned with you nodding.

"Yeah, we told Mina and Chaeyoung this before coming back from our hike, but Momo and I had a serious conversation about me staying in Seoul permanently."

"Really?" "Ohh," "Nice,"

"Yeah, I think it's best if I stay here and be with Momo supporting her and you girls as well. It's gonna take some planning though." You added after and it was evident the girls were happy as most looked to Momo who was all smiles.

"So how long do you think till you can stay?" Chaeyoung wondered.

"Hard to say. It's not as simple as moving to another town, and my job is an obstacle along with-"

"Oh! Maybe you can work with our company," Chaeyoung added, "I'm sure our place could use someone like you (YN)," she pointed at you, "you have lots of responsibilities,"

You smiled at her description of your job.

AN: It could be any high-job

"That's not a bad idea," Mina stated, though none of the girls knew the extent of how ludicrous this can be.

"Well thank you, but it's not a job I'm worried about, but I appreciate it Chaeyoung. It's convincing my parents. And I do need perfect convincing for them to understand that I want to do this. It won't be easy."

Now the girls were confused.

"Wait? Why do you have to talk with them?" Sana asked and you knew her opinions of your parents from Momo's stories, "You could do whatever you want right?"

"They're still my parents." You answered back, but for most, it wasn't an ideal answer, but didn't want to say it.

One, however...

"No offense and I do mean no offense," Jeongyeon spoke up, "why do you have to try to talk to them about it? I thought you weren't even close to them?" Jeongyeon spoke up.

"I mean, I'm not 'that' close, but I can't just leave them either."

"That's stupid," Jeongyeon retorted.

"Jeongyeon." Jihyo's voice boomed as Jeongyeon pointed at Momo.

"Jihyo you know how they were treated behind Momo's stories. If their parents didn't care for them, why should he to them?" Jeongyeon brought the table as the girls were silent, though they shared the same opinion, "I'd tell them I want to be with my sister. Isn't that a good enough reason?"

Jeongyeon's direct and assertive stance echoed through the conversation, raising a valid point in the situation.

Momo, caught between the two perspectives, wore an apprehensive expression shifting between you and Jeongyeon, not wanting to pick sides between one of her sisters or her brother.

"...she's right," you started as the girls turned to you, "you're right, it may be stupid, especially after everything, but that's exactly why it's difficult for me to leave. I've been with them since the start and with everything that's happened, you would think so, but for some time now I attempted to convince our parents to reconcile with Momo. They haven't at all spoken with her since the start of her training, training," you said twice, "and I can't leave without convincing them to forgive Momo."

"..." "..." "..." "..." "..." "..." "..."

"I thought after these years, we could be close like Momo and I wanted since we were younger. I know Momo got used to it, but I thought I could make that a reality that the four of us could hash things out and have dinner or camp or...something. And I know, if I tell them this, that's it, that slim dream we had is gone and I can't come to that. And despite the amount of times I bring her up, they won't even listen and move on, but I haven't let that stop me."

Your response carried a sense of responsibility, an acknowledgment that, despite not being 'that' close to them, you couldn't turn a blind eye to the struggles you faced.

The girls were heavy hearing your reasoning.

"So I'm sorry Jeongyeon, it is stupid to think that it-"

"No," Sana spoke very quickly, "you're far from stupid (YN). It's not wrong for you to believe in that."

The other girls nodded except Jeongyeon and Momo who stared at you.

Momo recalled what you said when they were at the lake outside the cabin, the conversation about being a family, she didn't know you were still trying till the waterfall location before Mina and Chaeyoung joined.

Imagine her surprise when she heard your reasoning of why it wasn't as easy to leave.

Jeongyeon, while sticking her to opinion, did feel for you, though she couldn't forgive what your parents did, or didn't do in this case.

You eyed Momo for a few seconds before your attention lowered to the table.

"...I'm gonna lie down and charge my phone." You hushed towards the end and didn't wait for an answer as you started walking away from the table as the girls behind.

"..." "..." "..." "..." "..." "..." "..."

The heavy silence that followed your revelation hung in the air.

The vulnerability in your tone, coupled with the genuine desire for a reunion resonated.

Some of the others looked at you leaving and once you were gone from their sight, they turned to Momo eyeing the table.

"I'm sorry Momo," Mina spoke up, but Momo merely nodded and...

SCREECH

It didn't take a genius to know Momo was going to follow behind as she scooted her chair and headed in your direction.

Once gone...

"Poor (YN)..." Dahyun muttered as some nodded.

"Jeongyeon, you're better than that." Jihyo started watching Jeongyeon as her eyes were set on the table too.

Hearing her, the girls turned to their second eldest as Jeongyeon sighed and looked up at her leader.

"I didn't mean to be rude, honest. I'll apologize later, but you know I'm right Jihyo." Jeongyeon pointed at her as Jihyo exhaled hard through her nose.

"I didn't want to say it in front of him, but I'm with Jeongyeon," Nayeon started, "I understand (YN) for wanting what he wants, but from what Momo told us, it's not right to her that he wants to keep the ones who didn't raise them. If you ask me, I think it's too late for them," Nayeon stated.

"As much as I hate to say it, I think so too," Sana agreed, "even Momo says it's passed and she got to used to it."

"She used to get sad about it, but when (YN) comes to visit she's more happier than ever," Mina finished as Chaeyoung nodded.

"He's all she needs," Jeongyeon cut in, "I'm sorry for being negative, but he's making it more difficult than it has to be."

"Well look at (YN)'s side here," Dahyun spoke up, "it was easy for Momo to pass on because she had us to fill in for that family. I don't blame her one bit for not feeling the way her brother feels, but after leaving him, who did (YN) have to replace that role?"

The girls took in Dahyun's words.

That's true, the nine of them treated themselves as a family, even labeling Jeongyeon and Jihyo 'father and mother' along with their managers being aunts/uncles of the groups.

But for you, it was just your 'parents'.

It was no wonder for them as to why Momo was able to move on as you were still hinged.

"Well right now, it doesn't matter who is right or wrong," Jihyo started, "it's about finding a solution that works for everyone, even if we don't agree," Jihyo urged, her leadership shining through her words, "the same goes for (YN), family is important to him, even if he is a less-knitted one."

"..." "..." "..." "..." "..." "..." "..."

"But enough about them. Let's wait for them," Jihyo leaned forward, "it's not our place to meddle or talk about their problems behind their backs. Until they need our help, then we'll talk about it. If we're done eating, let's clean up." Jihyo sat up from her seat, shifting the focus away from the Hirai family, redirecting the conversation with a decisive tone.

The room fell into a wordless silence after that; the scraps of plates, utensils, and water were heard as each member, while your problem was lingering on their minds, contemplated on the memories of their own families: the good and the bad.

--------------------------

SCREECH

It didn't take a genius to know Momo was going to follow behind as she scooted her chair and headed in your direction.

Following into the hall, she spotted the different doors and peeped into the first two on the right and left and didn't see you.

Going further to the next set of doors, she looked into her room and she spotted you sitting on the edge of Sana's bed.

No word was said as she stepped inside, closing the door behind and in the quiet glow of their shared bedroom, Momo sat next to her younger brother, who looked average after the explanation.

"..."

"...You okay?" She asked as you nodded, "You know Jeongyeon didn't mean it when-"

"I understand. I'm not upset or anything. I told you I figured this would be their reaction. I just needed a minute," Momo nodded, "I get what she meant. Wouldn't surprise me if the others agreed with her." You answered, your eyes fixed on the floor.

Momo gently placed a hand on your arm, lowering towards your hand and gripping it, offering a warm closure.

"You should have told me that you were talking to them about us sooner." She questioned and you nodded in response.

"Didn't bother to tell you since it wasn't going anywhere. I didn't want to hurt you more especially after you said if it's too late for that. I've been trying for a while, a long while..." You sighed, looking forlorn and then your sights set on your sister, "it was like you said with us sitting by the lake with your friends, I thought time would fix things and them looking back and thinking about what they did or didn't do in this case," your eyes lowered once more and then forward at the furniture of the room.

"but nothing...I'm sorry Momo, I know your opinion of them, but I didn't want to believe you were right about them. Deep down I truly thought that they might have changed and..." You shook your head, "I don't want to lose you Momo," your eyes adjusted to her once again, "I love you, truly I do, and what you said to me, believe me, I took it to heart but as I told you at the lake, once I tell them that I want to leave to be here, that's it, it's over. And the four of us are just-..."

Momo looked at you with a mixture of understanding and sadness, her gaze softening as you poured your heart out.

She leaned in, but instead of speaking, Momo brought her other hand up to your left cheek, stroking it softly, trying to convey her feelings through the warmth of her touch.

"I get it," Momo whispered, "That's who you are (YN), that's the (YN) I fell in love with," she noticed a raise in your lips, "I thank you for trying, I mean it. And I know it's not easy for you, and I appreciate that you tried to keep going on what we wanted. I don't blame you for thinking that things could change now, I thought like that too." Momo's smile dropped, "but," there it was, "I don't want you to be hurt (YN) while having a second chance with them could be great, I hope you understand that...well..."

"That it won't happen."

You finished for her as Momo felt awful for hurting her brother, but she had to put it through.

She didn't say this at the lake but figured now it was best to voice her thoughts.

"...I'm not saying it won't. But at this point, I'm afraid that it's close to it. I'm not saying what you're doing is wrong or bad or a waste. I love that you're trying, but I don't want you to dwell on it for too long for us. Just like you mean the world to me," Momo continued, her voice softening with each word, "unfortunately the Hirai company means the world to them; then, now, and always."

You remained silent, absorbing Momo's words.

"..."

Momo's expression fell, thinking that maybe this wasn't able to go through.

"...if you want to stay with them (YN), I'd understand. If I knew you were like this then I wouldn't have asked you to-"

"Give me one more try."

You stopped her words.

"Just one, if it doesn't work out, then...it'll be you and me only."

Momo was split down in her emotions.

Fifty percent of her was jumping with joy, the other was devasted that you going to lose that link with their parents like her.

Trust her, she knows how that feels and she's ready to help you if that happens to you in any way.

"You sure?"

"...yeah." Hearing that made Momo feel the opposite of what she wanted, "I need to know, for myself and maybe for them, that I did everything I could for this to work, and if not...then so be it."

Momo nodded slowly.

"And I'll help you in any way I can. I am sorry (YN)."

"Don't be. I was in denial."

"No, they're in denial." Momo corrected, her eyes reflecting a mixture of determination and concern, "I can't feel the way you feel (YN), but I'll do everything I can to make this workout. I owe it to you to give it my best shot."

You offered a small smile, appreciating Momo's sincerity.

"Thank you Momo."

As the two of you delved into the challenging task ahead, Momo couldn't help but admire your resilience.

The weight of the situation hung in the air, but there was an unspoken agreement to face it together.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

TIMESKIP

23 MINUTES

CLING-CLANK

SHHHHHHHHHH

"Here Jihyo," Jeongyeon brought four plates with her to the sink and placed them near Jihyo doing the dishes.

"Thanks,"

Jeongyeon nodded while stepping on the other side of her, picking up a dishcloth and started to dry some more dishes that Jihyo washed.

Meanwhile the other six girls were in the living room with the TV turned on watching some people running an obstacle course, but it was one of those joke type of runs.

Most likely Chaeyoung's way of turning the mood as she was the one to put it on.

"Jeong," Jihyo called her friend as Jeongyeon turned to her, wiping a cup, "do you mind checking up on (YN) and Momo?"

Jeongyeon nodded and placed the cup on the side with the cloth.

"Sure,"

"And Jeong-"

"I know,"

Jeongyeon knew it wasn't just to check on them, Jihyo didn't need to say it as her leader nodded back.

She walked away from Jihyo and turned to the group as Chaeyoung and Mina were watching the screen, the other four on their phones.

Turning away from them, she headed down in the hall and locked eyes at the closed door of Momo, her and Sana's room.

Standing in front of the wooden panel, Jeongyeon exhaled, brought her hand up and...

KNOCK KNOCK

"Hey uh, are you two busy?"

"Coming," upon opening the door, Momo met Jeongyeon with a simple expression.

"Hey Jeongyeon," Momo greeted but her eyes showed a hint of concern as she noticed the pensive look on Jeongyeon's face, "what's up?"

Jeongyeon looked behind her to see her younger brother sitting on the bed.

"I would like to talk to (YN) for a minute. Alone if that's okay." Jeongyeon questioned as Momo turned to you already standing from the bed too.

"Sure," you said and headed towards the duo with a questioning expression, "be right back," you informed Momo as your sister nodded.

"It won't take long," Jeongyeon gestured toward the hallway, signaling for you to step outside for a private conversation.

As they walked a few steps away from the closed door after you two left, Jeongyeon turned and you stopped, her lips pursed for a few seconds before taking a breath.

"I need to apologize for what I said,"

She began, her voice wavering slightly, "I came off too strong and I didn't help the situation. It was careless of me to say something like that and I'll be honest, it is difficult for me to understand. What Momo went through got to me and the others and hearing what you wanted got the best of me and, I'm sorry." She gave a slight bow and in return, you looked at her with a surprised yet understanding expression.

"Hey it's okay Jeongyeon," you started as she resumed form, "you don't have to apologize. I appreciate it, but I understand why you said so after what you and the others heard from Momo."

Jeongyeon felt a wave of relief wash over her.

She had feared your reaction, but hearing what Momo said about you, she should have figured.

"So we're okay Jeongyeon. Trust me, I want to be with her to support her and everything and now we're planning something to find common ground here with my sister and our parents, but ultimately, I'm staying in the end."

Jeongyeon nodded slowly.

"Alright. Again, I'm sorry, I, well all of us want the best for Momo, and you too. "

"And I'm grateful for that. If anyone should be thanking it's me to you for caring so much about her. We're extremely lucky that she's with you."

Jeongyeon gave a warm smile.

"If anyone's lucky, it's Momo having a brother like you," now it was your turn to show a ginger smile, "and we're here as well (YN). If you need anything, don't hesitate to tell us. We want to help too."

You couldn't contain your joy knowing Momo was surrounded by a group of amazing friends who wholeheartedly supported her.

Momo had always been a kind and caring soul, but seeing her with the other eight who appreciated and uplifted her was something truly special for you and her.

It wasn't just about the number of friends she had; it was about the quality of the relationships she had formed.

And she couldn't have formed a better eight.

"I will," you smiled at her as Jeongyeon smiled back.

"So, we're okay?" She asked as you nodded.

"We're okay,"

Hearing that, you raised a fist as Jeongyeon smiled and fist-bumped back.

"Alright, thanks Jeongyeon, if you don't mind, Momo and I kind of need some more time to ourselves."

"Say no more, we'll be waiting in the living room until then," Jeongyeon finished for you as you nodded.

"Thanks," and with a nod, you two headed back out, you into your room with a final nod to her as you entered Momo's room and Jeongyeon back to the living room.

Upon entering, she spotted the girls sitting still and turned to Jihyo's back who still doing the dishes.

"Hey," she alerted Jihyo once she got closer and she turned her head to her approach.

Jihyo turned the faucet off and turned her body to face her as Jeongyeon got on her side.

"How'd it go?" Jihyo asked as Jeongyeon gave a thumbs up.

"We're good. It didn't bother him. Seems like Momo is doing well too. They want their space though for now. Seems like they're discussing things."

"That's good," Jihyo responded as Jeongyeon nodded.

"It is. I'm sorry to you and the others as well," Jeongyeon gave a side pout, "I was harsh."

"It's okay Jeongyeon," Jihyo claimed for the group while she patted her left shoulder, "you had Momo on your mind. We don't fault you for that, just the approach wasn't it."

Jeongyeon nodded.

"Hopefully whatever happens, it won't end badly," Jeongyeon stated, "I want Momo and (YN) to be happy."

"Oh I wouldn't worry. With what Momo told us, they had each other's support since at a very young age. And if doesn't go their way, then we'll be there for Momo as much as we can." Jihyo proclaimed as Jeongyeon nodded at the statement.

"Right, well, until then, these dishes aren't going to get done themselves," Jeongyeon pointed and returned to her original spot with the cloth as Jihyo nodded and assisted her in drying and putting them away.

On a lighter note, the atmosphere was more relaxed now, and Jeongyeon felt a weight lifted off her shoulders.

----------------------------

CLICK

SQUEAK

"Hey," you said upon entering back into the room.

You closed the door behind you as Momo was lying on the bed, phone in hand but now sitting up and turned to you.

"Everything okay?" She asked and you nodded in response.

"She apologized for what she said at the table. I told her it wasn't necessary but thanked her."

"That's nice of her," you nodded and sat down on the edge of the bed with Momo.

"Yeah, you have an amazing group." You complimented as Momo chuckled.

"Hehe~ indeed I do." You nodded, "Hey so, I'm not too sure, but I think I have an idea."

"Hmm?"

"While on my phone, I googled something, and that led me to another thing and well I'm not sure if it's a good one or an idea at all." Momo pointed at her phone and shrugged.

"At this point, anything will be good, what'd you got?" Momo fixed herself on the bed for her legs to bend and turned to you.

"Okay, so our parents love their company, right? Like a lot?" You nodded, "And they still want to become a grand success right?"

"It kind of is already, our distribution is in all of Japan. Got to credit to them, they know how to run an efficient business," you answered.

"Perfect, so I was thinking, have you three had talks of expanding outside of Japan?"

"..."

Momo saw your eyes flare.

"What if they want it to make it even more amazing as to bring their work here with you? Companies do that, right? Is that something you can do?"

"...Momo, that's a big-"

"Of course, it won't be as big as in Japan to start," Momo waved her hands to cut you off, "but seeing as how mom and dad made it to what it is now and not to brag but I am a big deal over here, it shouldn't be that hard to get a start if we plan this right, right? So I thought, what if this could convince them that you could stay here and be working under their name while being with me, or close to me, but that means we could see each other every day and you get to be working with mom and dad still. Plus they could expand their business to be more known, so that's a win-win-win for us four."

"..."

"Soooo, what do you think?" Momo asked leaning forward, a smile on her as you looked outward.

"..."

You stared away from Momo, cementing your last thoughts as you considered Momo's proposal.

"..."

"...I-I mean, saying is one thing, it's doing it another. Expanding here is a bold move, very bold." you finally replied, meeting Momo's eager gaze. "I mean we had a talk here and there but it was always about having a foothold in Japan and even then expanding was difficult but it worked out, but to Seoul...that won't be easy,"

Momo kept her gaze up as you stood up and started to walk a few paces.

"And while there are plentiful amount of businesses here, this isn't a next city over, it's a new country."

"..." Momo saw you turn and walk in the opposite direction as you voiced your thoughts.

"Plus we'll have to have a deep understanding of the market since preferences, trends, and competition are different from Japan. Also, the cultural differences between us might not directly translate to success in Seoul so we'll have to adapt our business model to fit local customs and deal with a new set of legal and regulatory hurdles with business permits, taxation, and intellectual property rights, among other things."

"..." Momo stared at the side of your head as you turned once more.

"Then we'll have to build trust and relationships if we get that far so local partners, distributors, and influencers are essential to gain credibility and visibility in this system so finding the right connections who could help us navigate the market effectively could be challenging since partnerships are already formed."

"..."

"But even if we pass all that, our parents will have to agree. And this will be a significant financial investment and given all that I said, it's going to have to be-"

You turned to Momo...

"And you're smiling."

"You seem to be already planning everything."

A low-tone sigh escaped your lips as your thoughts ran through like a train.

"Well, I'm not saying it's impossible, but even then it's a big 'if' Momo."

"Of course, I know that (YN). But I do feel this can go somewhere. I know it's a lot, but our business is anything but slacking. It is well known in all of Japan, and lots of businesses are with us. It's not like they haven't done this before."

"True, but it doesn't mean that would want to start anew. I'm not trying to sound negative or in denial, but it's a long and I do mean long shot here Momo."

"So was me taking a chance of being an idol, and look at me."

Momo wasn't fazed as she pointed at herself.

Her eyes reflected a mix of determination as you looked into them, searching for a sign, a reassurance that this leap of faith was worth taking and Momo's unwavering gaze spoke volumes.

"..."

---------------------------------------------------------

TIMESKIP

18 Minutes Later

"Hehe~" Sana grinned over Jihyo's shoulders.

Their leader heard and placed her phone down.

"Oh come on Sana..." Jihyo pouted.

"Texting Vor again~" Dahyun teased as Jihyo rolled her eyes.

"I'm just asking how he's doing, nothing much." She responded

"Haven't you been on the phone for twenty minutes now~" Sana poked Jihyo's shoulder as Jihyo sighed.

"And that's why Vor can't update," Nayeon grinned, "too busy with our leader~"

"Oh don't give me that," Jihyo countered and raised her phone, "Ms, 'back off, I saw him first' " Jihyo taunted back as Nayeon's smirk fell to a frown.

"I didn't mean it like that!"

"This is sad." Tzuyu gave a shake of her head as Jeongyeon nodded.

"Alright moving on," Mina shook her hands in front as Jihyo and Nayeon huffed.

"How much longer do you think they'll be in there?" Chaeyoung asked looking into the hallway, already moving past the initial conversation.

"As long as they need Chae, it's not an easy conversation to have," Mina answered as Chaeyoung sighed in return.

"They'll be fine," Sana reassured, "I'm sure it won't be long-...oh right on time." Sana looked onward and saw you walking towards them.

"Hey everyone,"

Your voice caused the other members of Twice to turn too.

"(YN)," "Hey," four of them said.

"How are-" Jihyo was asking, but they all looked at Momo coming from behind you...

...pulling her luggage, which confused the others.

"Uh, why do you have your luggage Momo?" Nayeon pointed at her.

"Momo and I are heading back to Seoul." You spoke up and all gave quizzical looks.

"Is something wrong?" Jihyo asked.

"No. While there, Momo and I were discussing a plan that she came up with that could be beneficial to our entire family. It's quite a plan, but at this point, I'm willing to try anything."

Momo nodded in agreement.

"What is it?" Sana asked for the whole group.

"Well," you started, "Momo came up with an idea. I'm going to attempt to convince our parents to expand the business to Seoul."

The girls had immediate reactions.

"And if it works out in our favor; I could keep in contact with our parents as well as live near Momo, and our parents get exponential growth. So in Momo's words, it's a win-win-win scenario." You finished as Momo nodded with a smile, happy that this was happening.

The others well, were quite stunned at the sudden plan.

"Oh...wow," Mina muttered.

"That sounds pretty difficult," Chaeyoung stated.

"Will it work?" Tzuyu inquired.

"Don't know, it won't be easy, but I'm going to try to convince my parents of this and then we'll go from there. That's why we're heading towards the city to discuss with a firm that'll help us get information about it."

The girls looked at one another for a shared expression.

"I mean, even then, will your parents agree to this?" Jihyo's question was a tricky one as you shrugged.

"That's the trickiest part. Momo figured that since they love their business so much, this will influence them, though I haven't heard of talks from them about leaving Japan," you reasoned, "I won't be able to just say the idea to them like Momo did, they'll have to be convinced and my pitch to them will have to be spot on for them to even consider this. Not only that, they'll have to let me oversee it so...yeah, not easy." You topped it off as the girls weren't so keen on how much this was.

"Well...that's something I guess," Dahyun muttered.

"And what if it doesn't convince them?" Jeongyeon asked.

"If it doesn't...then I hope they understand that leaving is the best for Momo." You answered to Jeongyeon.

"You're going to quit then?" Jihyo clarified and you nodded and their leader looked to Momo, "Momo don't tell me you implied him to-"

"It's my choice," you affirmed, "nor what Jeongyeon said as well," you turned to Momo who nodded at you, "we had a serious talk at the lake before Mina and Chaeyoung showed up and," you turned to the others now, "Momo needed me more than I thought," the girls turned to Momo whose eyes downcast, "it's best that I remain here with her rather than leave and have her feeling...torn."

After hearing that, the girls turned to Momo.

"Momo..."

"Is this true?"

"Were you that down?"

Momo took a deep breath, lifting her eyes to meet her group.

"I...haven't been myself lately. I love you eight to death, I do, but," Momo then looked at you, "I need my brother twice as much here. I wouldn't be here nor be who I am without him and now, I need him more than ever,"

The others exchanged glances, sensing the gravity of the situation and Momo turned to her group.

"I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't keep it from all of you but work has been getting to me and you know whenever I feel down, I talk to (YN) to cheer myself up, but talking isn't enough for me anymore. I need him now more than ever."

They heard her and seconds later Sana quickly came further and hugged Momo, even pushing her a few inches back.

"Momo, gomen nasai. Kon'na fuu ni kanjite ita nante shirimasen deshita. Watashi, motto kizuku beki datta noni..."

I'm so sorry Momo, I didn't know you were feeling like this. I should have known better...

Momo returned the hug quickly.

"Kokorowaketa kutakunakattanda. Ayamaranaide, Sana."

I didn't want you to worry. Don't be sorry, Sana.

Then another member came in, more slowly as Mina joined the trio.

"Sore ni kakawarazu Momo, watashitachi wa otagai o kizukaimasu. Hitori de kakaekomu koto wa shinaide. Watashitachi wa anata ga shiawase de ite hoshī nda yo.

Regardless Momo, we look after each other. You shouldn't keep this to yourself. We want you to feel happy.

"Mina, kimitachi wa mousude ni watashi o shiawase ni shite kurete iru. Demo, (YN) mo issho ni ite hoshii nda." Momo spoke to the two.

You already make me happy Mina, all of you. But I also need (YN) with me too.

The MiSaMo trio were comforting one another as you smiled at the sight of the three who were together before Sixteen started.

The sister's Momo never had.

"(YN)?" You turned and saw Jihyo waving her hand at her so you walked closer to the group remaining.

"Don't get us wrong, we want Momo to be happy, but are you really okay with this?" She asked upon being near them, "We don't want you to put a dent in your life or with your parents."

"Yeah, I'm sure. If they weren't going to connect with Momo since she started being a trainee and my words weren't going through then, what Jeongyeon and Momo said was true, I just needed to hear it. Plus Momo's well-being means more to me than anything, more than my parents after hearing her at this point. I said what I said, but no point in trying for knows how long and leaving Momo behind like that. So if my parents say no to this then I'll be fine knowing that they're doing well."

The girls didn't give much positive reactions, Jeongyeon the most as the guilt was building up on her.

As you spoke, the remaining group sat in contemplative silence, absorbing the weight of the decision.

The leader that she is, Jihyo leaned forward, her expression thoughtful.

"Okay..." Jihyo could only agree with your words, "Just making sure that you're okay with it."

"I am," You nodded to her as Jihyo didn't like the outcome, but it wasn't her place to stop you.

"So what's the first step?" Chaeyoung asked.

"We're going to visit a firm to help us. I looked into it and it's a very reliable start. It's called Koisraup."

The girls never heard of it, but then again, they know nothing of business.

"But don't you leave in two days?" Nayeon asked.

"Yes. I'm not going to be able to come back for a while so this will be the only opportunity I get. I doubt I'll get anything done, but a couple of days of work is better than nothing and then I'll figure it out myself back home."

"Well, I wish you well in that then," Nayeon stated and you appreciated the words.

"Is there anything we can do?" Jeongyeon now brought her voice in.

"Being there for Momo once I'm gone again," you turned to Momo, but the Misamo trio were gone from their spot.

'Probably went in a room.'

"she'll most likely need it after I leave," you and Jeongyeon exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passing between them, "but it won't be for long this time."

"We got her," Jeongyeon stated.

"I know you do. Besides that, nothing else. No offense, but I doubt there's anything you can help me for now." You added.

"Really? Nothing?" Tzuyu asked as you nodded.

"Sorry Tzuyu, I would love your help, but in this area, I don't think there's much you eight will know."

"I guess that's true," Tzuyu nodded after hearing you.

"Wait, what's your job again (YN)?" Nayeon asked, "You move stuff around yeah?" She corrected herself.

"In lighter terms, yes, we move stuff around. Why?"

"Well, what about our company? Chaeyoung is right about working with us. Maybe you can talk to producer-nim about getting a deal with us? Our albums and everyone else's in the company sell a ton. Would be pretty big of you to score us~" Nayeon flaunted herself up...

...you smiled at her aid.

"Well that would be a great deal to have you and JYPE, but before we start talking about deals, the main focus is finding a location before setting a foothold. Plus I'll have to see what businesses are around, who's with whom, information like that, but I'll keep that in mind." Nayeon nodded. "And I'll be taking my rental car and I'll come back for you to drive you back," they nodded, "thank you and sorry for leaving early."

"Don't apologize (YN)." Dahyun quickly replied.

"At least we had fun for some days." Chaeyoung gave positive words as you nodded.

"It was, thank you Chaeyoung. Thank you all of you for allowing me to be here." You turned to each one as they smiled or nodded, "You're all great to be with."

"And you as well (YN)." Nayeon reflected as the others nodded.

"So does this mean we won't see you again?" Chaeyoung asked with a pout.

"You'll see me for a bit. Since I'm leaving Sunday morning, we'll be coming back for you girls tomorrow to drive back to your dorm since I'm bunking with you till my flight the next morning."

Chaeyoung nodded.

"So we have one more night then," she pointed one finger up.

"Yes, we do. Alright, then let me get my stuff and we'll be on our way when they come back." You walked forward as the remaining members gave looks at one another.

------------------------------------------

TIMESKIP

SLAM

"Ready?" You asked Momo nodding as you started up the car and buckled yourself up.

"Be careful Momo and don't attract too much attention." Jihyo was near the passenger's seat speaking to Momo.

"Don't worry. We won't be stepping out of the car. I'll be hidden." Momo explained as Jihyo nodded.

"Good. Keep us updated, and if you need anything, we're just a call away." Jeongyeon added as Momo nodded.

"We will," Momo said to her group.

"And don't forget to take breaks. Make sure both of you get some rest too." Sana added as Momo smiled at their antics.

"We get it hehe, don't worry about us, I'll take good care of him," Momo answered as you rolled your eyes.

"Take care of each other," Jihyo corrected, "be safe you two."

"We will," "See yah,"

"Bye," "Good luck," "Be safe,"

And with that, the group exchanged a final round of well-wishes and reassurances before the car was in drive and you drove into the main road, Momo waving at the girls out her window as they continued to wave back before they left their POV.

"Well Otouto, it's you and me now." Momo stated while pulling her phone out, "I'll put the directions for the first spot...which is what?"

"Koisraup."

"Ah yes, Koisraup...who was that again?" Momo questioned as you smiled.

"A business development and consulting firm. We'll discuss with them first about the administrative, legal, and tax implications here. From what I read, they'll guide us in what we need so hopefully we'll get a decent amount of info from them."

Momo nodded and typed in the location.

"Kois-there it is,"

Starting route to Koisraup

Continue on this road for # miles and take exit #

"Alright," Momo placed her phone in the middle of the two, "it's an hour and forty-seven minutes to get there. Road trip." Momo leaned back in her seat.

"Get cozy then...are you okay?" You asked as Momo nodded slowly.

"I am, much more now that this is happening." You smiled and nodded.

"Right, by the way, what did Mina and Sana talk to you about? You three left the room for a bit."

"Oh, they wanted to know if I was doing okay, like mentally," Momo answered as you figured as much, "they were worried about how long I was hiding it and if I needed to talk to our boss about it. I said I would be alright."

You side-eyed Momo as she was looking forward and you looked the same again.

"Glad to hear. I'm happy you have your group Momo," Momo nodded.

"Me too (YN)."

You nodded afterward.

"So, any plans for you girls? Any spoilers you can give?" You diverted the atmosphere into a more pleasant one as Momo turned to you.

She figured the business talk would be later, the ride is an hour and a half there.

"Well, there are some plans, there's even one with Sana, Mina, and I."

You raised your brows.

"Really? Can you tell me about it?"

"As long as you keep it quiet,"

"You know me." You responded as Momo giggled.

"Okay, so our unit is going to be called Misamo, that's our names put together and the video is about..."

And so Momo started to talk about the plans of her and her group as you listened along.

----------------------------------------------------

TIMESKIP - 11 hours later

"Kuso jigoku..." you swore under your breath while you stretched your back on the couch.

"Take a break (YN)." Said Momo on your right, "We haven't had one since we left the cabin."

You glanced at the laptop's clock, realizing that it was getting close to 11 PM.

"Yeah, no good to overwork ourselves."

Momo nodded and was glad that you finally had a break, lunch didn't count for her as you also worked through that while she stared at the coffee table.

On it was her laptop that she lent to you, with a couple of folders of papers in each and an assortment of notes.

You two have been busy driving around Seoul, especially where most businesses reside such as Dongdaemun.

After consulting with Koisraup, which was pretty helpful in delegating what to do and where you can start, it was off finding sites.

Of course, a very select few buildings were up for sale and ready to be moved in, however, they were problematic as they weren't in the designated areas that you wanted.

The other hand was to buy the land itself; closer, but more costly.

Either way, it wasn't anything new, just extra steps...a complex few steps.

Doable? Sure you can see it.

The question is, can your parents?

"Gomen (YN)," you turned to your sister, "I wish I could help you more. I've been on the side just taking notes. You've been talking to these companies about everything."

"Hey don't talk like that Momo. You right here is support enough."

"Okay but it's only one of me, you have a whole army of workers to help."

"I do, but why would I want a bunch of boring people over someone as beautiful as you," you grinned as Momo playfully rolled her eyes.

Her quick faint smile was turned upside down upon looking over the laptop and then back at you.

"Still can't believe it's a hundred million Won to just start it all."

AN: Unless I'm making a mistake, that's legit the starting investment for a company to buy stocks to be a legal business in Seoul

"Same in Japan. That's business, it's a way to know that you have the money to do this and to properly ensure the government." You explained as Momo combed through her hair at the revelation. "Although, the market here is vast and intricate, much more than Japan, which is good. Lots of potential work and I mean lots and it's not just large but a larger portion of smaller business around meaning many goods are being transported thus needing quite a lot of what our work does."

"And what's the bad?"

"That everyone is set here and being new means we'll have to convince our way to these deals being done and we'll have to figure out where and who'll want to listen to us which isn't something I can do now."

"And you deal with this daily?" Momo picked up a document given by Koisraup.

"No. Only twice I had to deal with this when we expanded to other cities. Dad decided it was time for me to step up in bigger responsibilities. I do smaller, but everyday duties, like your manager, but replace you nine with branches of our building."

"...do you like it?" She asked after a few seconds while you shrugged.

"It's alright work. It doesn't scream fun, but it's not boring."

Momo nodded slowly.

"...do you like working with Mom and Dad?"

"You know, you would think it'd be great, but..." you shrugged, "they're not easy to work with," you continued, "Mom has this meticulous way of planning everything, down to the last detail. Dad, on the other hand, is all about spontaneity and gut feelings. You would think it wouldn't work between but they mesh very well together. Hearing them discuss is, intense, in a good way. The way they think of everything and I mean everything Momo."

Momo nodded.

"And I respect them a lot. They built our empire from the ground up, and they're trying to find my place in it. It's a challenge, but challenges keep things interesting, right?"

She chuckled.

"Heh, I suppose so," as you sifted through the few documents on your desk, "and that's what they expected of me," Momo took a look at the laptop, "to be like them."

"As I said, you turned out better,"

Momo had another faint smile, but her response...

"...I'm not being selfish am I (YN)?"

Her response caught you off guard, but it didn't faze you for long.

"Sel-why would you think that?" Momo looked away from you, embarrassed of the matter.

"I want you here, I do, but throughout the day, I've also been thinking about what you said with our parents. I don't want to force you into doing anything that was also thinking that maybe I'm being-"

"No you're not," you stopped her, "there's nothing selfish about expressing your feelings," her gaze met yours, and you could see a mixture of uncertainty and longing in her eyes, but you offered her a reassuring smile, "we," you pointed at you both, "wouldn't happen if you haven't told me about the same our first night together. I'm glad you told me how you felt Momo, really."

Momo's eyes softened as she absorbed your words.

The weight on her shoulders seemed to lift a little, and a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice filled with gratitude and she reached out to gently cup your cheek, "I'm really glad you're doing this (YN). I mean it."

"You know I'd do anything for you onee-san," you assured her, your gaze locked onto hers, "Aishiteimasu," (I love you)

Momo let out a gentle breath.

"Watashi mo itoshite iru yo," (I love you too)

And as if on cue, you both leaned in, closing the distance between you.

The kiss was gentle yet filled with the depth of unspoken words.

It was a promise of understanding and a celebration of the emotions that had brought you to this point.

Continuing with the moment, Momo brought her other hand up and she probed her tongue at your lips as the millisecond you opened; Momo explored your mouth as you both just moaned at each other's touch.

The kiss wasn't an overloaded sexual one, but a comforting one; one that declares your love for another.

You can hear the rumble of her moan vibrating through her naked chest against yours, feeling the gentle cadence of her breathing.

It wasn't long before you both lost yourselves in the dance of passion.

The environment seemed to fade away, leaving only the warmth of the sibling's bodies and the sweet symphony of shared desires.

Momo's fingers traced gentle patterns along your skin, leaving a trail of electric sensations in their wake and the air was filled with a heady mix of anticipation and the taboo love the two shared that only the two of you understood, a language of intimacy, trust, and boundless affection.

Of course, it wasn't like that in a few moments...

Momo pressed her hand down hard on your shoulders and straddled you to have your back on the couch as Momo captured you on top, pressing her hands to the side of your head once more and capturing your lips.

Leaning back against the cushion, you embraced her tongue within your mouth, moaning past her lips as Momo nearly collapsed onto you.

It was an otherworldly experience to be lip-locked with her, no matter how long or much it's been since that first day, it always felt incredible to have her body on you or the naughty feeling of her being your Onee-san gave you thrills.

Either way, the kiss soon ended and you opened your eyes to gaze back at her hues.

Momo pulled her face away with a grin.

No words were needed to know that you two were going to share a time.

"Guess that break will have to wait~" she didn't ask but stated while shoving her hands down between your legs and pressed against your cock as you hissed as she started to rub up and down.

Momo gazed back into your eyes and softly whispered...

"Besides this being our last night, I think you deserve a reward for being doing so much hard...work."

You wanted to chuckle, but Momo kept grinding her hand harder and deeper.

"Momo-"

RING RING RING

"Oh come on..." Momo groaned as you both turned to the coffee table and noticed your phone lighting up with 'Dad' on it.

"It's Dad," you turned to Momo and noticed a flat expression at her side, "...but I'll talk to him later."

And just like that, Momo turned back to you and seconds later, she grinned once more, but not a devious one, but more of a gratitude.

"Oh my Otouto~ someone's being naughty~"

"You're a bad influence,"

"Hehe~ then let me show you how much of a naughty sister I can be~" Momo raised her hands to your body, cupping your face and Momo shoved her lips to yours.

Her plump ass down onto your lap while you threw your arms around her back and pulled her in.

Momo pushed her lips to yours once again and you two continued to kiss as she moved her lips against yours and snaked her tongue into your mouth, her hips began to roll, grinding her ass down into your lap against your crotch.

And not because she was your girl, Momo had one of the best bodies you've seen in any woman, and for her to be grinding her assets on you, it was never not ineffective.

You moved your hands out from her back, soon feeling her body rub up against you in unison with her hip movements and Momo threw her arms behind your neck, allowing you to feel her slender fingers on the backside of your neck as they enjoyed one last passionate kiss together.

She pulled their lips apart, moving her hands away from you while grinning.

===============SMUT START================

"I think we should get comfy~" She hinted, pushing her hands down onto your chest, Momo slowly moved up, her heels elevated onto the floor below with a soft touch.

"Can't say no to that."

"You can never say no to me anyway~"

She giggled as you began to remove your shirt and pulled it out from over your head and you were greeted with the sight of Momo's ass.

She had bent over, removing her shorts and shaking her hips to shake her ass.

Slowly to the left, then a fast pump to the right.

You shook your head with an amused smile as her hair swayed down her back and Momo moved her hands down to her hips.

Her shorts dropped from her hips down to her ankles, your eyes were set instantly on the black thong she wore.

She took one glance beyond her right shoulder, witnessing your eyes while stepping out of the shorts and turning around, crossing her hands, and holding the helm of her shirt, she pulled up to show her strapless black lace bra while throwing the shirt somewhere.

You leaned up, hands on the side of your Onee-san's hips, roaming your fingertips down her sides and bringing her back onto you as you felt her plump ass shove down into your crotch.

Momo wasted no time beginning to grind her hips down, rubbing her ass up and down with your erection poking up the front.

"God Momo..." You groaned as Momo's giggling voice caused you to breathe heavily as she continued to grind her hips and pump that ass back down into you.

"You'll be saying that more (YN)-kun~"

Your voice had elevated from the excitement at hand, swallowing your breath and began to slide your hands across her body.

The smoothness of her skin was felt beneath your fingertips as you took to feel her muscular stomach.

Momo moaned, still grinding her ass down into you.

"Mmmmm, someone's touchy~"

She made her demands and you didn't neglect Momo of what she desired at this moment.

As you moved your hands across her stomach, she moved her own hands to the straps of her bra and began to pull at it.

Watching her, you were greeted with the view of her pulling it to free her breasts as Momo dropped the bra down to the floor below, soon feeling your hands move over her breasts; her hard nipples rubbed against the palms of your hands and cooed to you as you gently squeezed her tits.

"Enjoying this~"

"Always~"

Hearing her words, you moved your lips to the right side of her neck.

Momo closed her eyes and then made one last series of movements by grinding her hips.

She could feel your cock sticking straight up through your pants, poking into her buttocks.

Taking a deep breath, Momo opened her eyes, still feeling you down below as you kissed and sucked on her neck, though Momo needed more.

She bent her knees, watching the expression change across your face as she brought your head between her tits, soon feeling her right hand roam across behind, her fingernails grazing through your hair.

You had moved your mouth to her right breast, shoving her nipple between your lips as you began to suck it.

As Momo moaned, she began to grind her hips back down into you.

"That's it (YN)~"

She bit down on her lower lip, softly purring her moans while caressing the back of your head with her hands.

Momo waited until you moved to her other boob and then she used her hands to squeeze her breasts into your face.

"Suck on my nipples (YN), bite them," she insisted, as she forced your hands off of her tits and used her hand to pull your head towards her left tit so you could suck on her large breast.

Who were you to complain?

You opened your mouth and started sucking on her hard nipple, Momo kept moaning as she felt her Otouto suck on her huge tit as if you were a baby.

"Mmmm oh yes~ That's it (YN)~" Momo moaned sexily with you now cupping the bottom half of her breast as you sucked on her left nipple and gave a strong squeeze to her tit-flesh.

Still grinding down into your crotch, she could barely take it for much longer.

Her desire grew stronger with each passing moment.

When you moved your head to the other breast, Momo cupped your cheeks against her palms, leaning down to kiss you passionately one last time.

She took a final moment to rub her ass up against your crotch, coming to a halt with grinding into your lap as their tongues danced together.

Once the kiss ended, she got back up from your lap and then fell to her knees below, feeling Momo's hands tugging at the lace strings to your pants (let's say pajama pants) loosen up.

Momo glanced up at your chest, grinning when she placed her hands back to the front of your pants, grabbed the helm, and slowly slid them down, letting the bulge sticking up finally release as she came in sight with your briefs.

Biting down on her lower lip, Momo squeezed your bulge and then moved her hand away.

She surprised you by getting up from her knees, hooking her thumbs down to the thong she was still wearing.

"I forgot to finish stripping. It's only fair I get naked too before I'm done taking your clothes off."

"I can't argue with that."

She winked back at you in response to your words, swaying her hips left and right, Momo leaned over a bit as she tugged her shorts down.

It didn't remain on her body for long, as Momo hooked her thumbs at the sides and shoved it down to reveal her dripping wet pussy.

Freshly shaved without a single hair in sight of those beautiful pink folds.

Stepping her feet out of the thong and shorts below, Momo stood in front of you for a moment, moving her hands to her breasts, squeezing them as she gave a nude pose to you, all before dropping back down to her knees.

No words were needed from her voice, as Momo seemed prepared and truly ready to get down to the business of lust at hand.

Grabbing the front of your underwear, she tugged it down, watching as your cock flopped freely across your skin.

You witnessed Momo licking her lips in clear anticipation of this moment.

As she tugged your underwear down to your ankles, you leaned up and carefully pulled your feet free from them while she wrapped her right-hand fingers around your semi-erect pole.

Momo wasted no time beginning to stroke it, moving her hand up and down.

"I don't have to remind you that your cock is all mine Otouto~"

"Yes it is dear Onee-san."

No disagreement whatsoever from you.

You stared down into her big brown eyes as her hand continued to jerk your rod up and down.

Momo parted her pink lips, revealing her gritted teeth while giving you an expression of absolute hunger and your cock had grown from the touch of her hand, rising in thickness and reaching full length.

Sliding her hand down to the base, Momo smirked up at you before gazing her sight back onto your pole awaiting her mouth.

"Mmm~ nice and big. Just the way I like it."

You exhaled, taking a deep breath now as Momo parted her lips and slid your cock right between them.

She squeezed her fingers around your pole, using her left hand to drop down and caress your nut sack as she began to slowly suck her way down the first few inches.

Swallowing your breath, you moaned out to her but didn't utter any words.

There was nothing you could say to ruin a moment like this.

Momo took her time, slowly bobbing her head up and down.

She pulled her lips back to the head, making a popping sound as she released your cock, but only momentarily.

With a quick stroke of her hand, Momo went back down on it; this time, she began to bob her head in sync with her hand stroking from the base of your cock upward.

Her fingers met with her lips in sync, giving you the pleasure of her hand and mouth simultaneously.

GULP

Her mouth began to quickly make slobbering and sucking noises while you bit down on your lower lip as a way of preventing yourself from crying out in pleasure.

You wanted to play strong for her as you were left at the mercy of her oral talents.

Stopping the movement of her hand, Momo pulled her hand away and then used both hands to push down into your legs.

All you could do was rest your back against the cushion of the couch as she began to bob her head up and down your cock, sucking it deeper with each passing second.

Her efforts paid off as Momo was able to get her lips down to the base and shove the head of your shaft to the back of her throat.

GULP

"Oh my fucking god..."

Finally breaking the silence between breathing and moaning, you cried out to her in words of pleasure.

Momo devoured your cock, inch by inch sucking it down.

Pulling her lips back to the head, she released it again with a popping sound, saliva strings dangled from her open mouth back to your cock as Momo gripped your shaft with her right hand, flicking her tongue and then spitting on the head.

"You like that~"

Her voice was low and seductive in asking her question.

You nodded back at her.

"Can't complain."

With a grin and licking her tongue again, Momo spat on your dick once more and shoved her lips up to the head, kissing it, and then used her tongue to glide down the underside of your shaft, moving her hand away to lick it.

Once she reached the base, Momo wrapped her fingers back around that pole as she began to pay special attention to your balls below.

Squeezing your nuts with her left hand, her tongue licked over them and she stuffed one into her mouth and your toes curled at the sensation.

You leaned up in a desperate attempt to catch a better view of your Onee-san slobbering all over your balls.

"Damn it feels good~"

Calling out to her in excitement, you bit down on your lower lip again, softly moaning.

You soon heard the slobbering and sucking noises as Momo loudly sucked them while her right hand wanked your cock up and down, easily gliding across your saliva-soaked shaft.

You dropped your lower lip as you felt such blissful pleasure at this very moment.

"Ohhhhh, fuck..."

As you moaned out to her once more, Momo pulled her mouth away, releasing your balls from her lips.

She leaned back up, gazing up at your face with her devious eyes.

"Put your hands on my head and fuck my mouth~"

And that you did, hands now on the back of your sister's head.

Momo closed her eyes, just as she felt you push her head back down; her lips sealed around your long dick and she began to suck on it once more.

'Mmmmmmmm', she softly purred a muffled voice against your shaft.

You began to slowly buck your hips forward while holding her head in place, taking control as you fucked her mouth.

"Oh god...!"

"MMMMMMMMMM-GWAH-GWAK-GWAK-GWAK-KWAH-GWAH"

Her mouth began to create a fusion of sucking and slobbering noises as you slowly fucked her oral hole.

Back and forth, you rocked her lips while your cock pushed in and out.

"MMMM-GWAH-KWAH-GWAK-GWAK-GWAK-KWAH-GWAH."

Strings of saliva began to dangle down from the corners of her lips as you pushed her head all the way down, forcing her to devour every inch of his long pole.

As Momo's mouth pushed down to the base, you moaned while holding her there; listening to her mouth, gagging after a few seconds.

GWAH-KWAH-GWAK-GWAK-GWAK-KWAH-GWAH."

Momo's eyes watered up while her left hand was shoved down her thighs, playing with her pussy while sucking your cock.

At the rate she was going, you feared she would end up forcing you to blow your load in her mouth in the passing minutes.

She knew you wouldn't be able to hold back long so she tapped your thighs as you felt and stopped your movements to release her.

She breathed in relief while long ropes of saliva dangled from your cock back to her mouth while Momo looked back into your eyes while catching her breath.

"You okay?" You asked while your cock was twitching.

"Mh-hm,"

Momo smirked, reaching out with her right hand to grab your cock once more, and began to wank it up and down as she replied.

"I'd say my mouth had enough, I think it's my tit's turn to have fun no?"

"Hehe, whatever you want."

Her soothing voice was enough to motivate your cock to react with a pulse, pretty much aching at her touch again while Momo bit down on her lower lip, quirking her eyebrows at you.

You rested your hands over the cushions as you watched Momo grab her breasts and hold them up.

As she moved them on both sides, she reached her hand out to shove your dick between them.

Her eyes gazed into your long pole, starring directly into the head while she squeezed her tits around it and began to slowly pump them up and down.

You let out a slight moan as you watched your sister begin to fuck you with her breasts.

This was what any man, even the most innocent, would have wanted from k-pop idols like Momo.

They'd be lying if they had no interest.

Momo had a body that rivels supermodels and her chest was without a doubt one of the best in the k-pop industry, even outside of it too.

And to sit here while one of the greatest pair of tits in the world was wrapped around your dick, you couldn't ask for a better time.

"Fuck Momo..."

Momo concentrated, licking her lips she pumped them up and down slowly.

Since she was in control at the moment, she wanted to go slow so you could enjoy every second of her beautiful valley of breasts.

Her breasts were so big that your cock disappeared between them.

Only the head poked up.

Over and over, she slowly pumped them up and down, listening to you moan.

She leaned her head down, gazing at your cock between the folds and spitting on the head.

"How close are you?"

"Really fucking close."

"Well, then go ahead and finish yourself off~"

You wasted no time beginning to buck your hips, thrusting your cock between her breasts while Momo chuckled at your increase of speed, gazing up to see the expression of pleasure across your face.

Dropping her lower lip, she let out another moan as she called to you in a low, slutty voice.

"Fuck my titties (YN)-kun, hmmm~ how does it feel to fuck your sister's boobs~"

Letting out a grunt, you tried to maintain control over yourself.

Momo squeezed her tits harder around your shaft, never once breaking eye contact as she had made a true attempt to drive you wild with her lust while panting as she felt every inch of your cock pumping up and down between her tits.

"I want to cum (YN)-kun~ cum for your naughty Onee-san~"

Hearing your sexy sister's talking dirty made you go further in lust.

You started thrusting back and forth, the friction of her big breasts getting tighter around your cock, it was indescribable.

Momo made sure to keep a firm pressure on her Otouto's cock, watching your face in full lust, and your cock head popping out from her soft, warm, mounds every time you trusted forward.

You moved your right hand to her shoulder, locking her down in place as you bucked your hips as hard as you could.

She had you right where she wanted you, under her control by using her body.

Momo lowered her head and began to flick her tongue across the head of your shaft each time it poked up between her tits and the cherry on top with Momo starting to suck the head of your shaft when it poked back up.

Every time you thrust forward, Momo kept licking the head of your cock with her all; fucking her tits with force, making Momo's big tits bounce and jiggle like waves in the ocean.

You kept doing this until the head of your cock was engulfed by your sister's soft red lips, into her warm wet mouth.

Momo was sucking you away, towards your mind-blowing orgasm.

"Ugh...Momo I'm about to-fuck!" You yelled as you felt that feeling in your cock and balls that you were about to go.

"That's good (YN)-kun~ Give me my reward~" She said, still keeping her firm grip on her breast as her she let the head of her brother's cock out of her mouth, as you were ready to burst.

She could feel your body tensing up, just as you breathed in hard and and explode you did, the first shot of his incest cum shot into the back of her wide-open mouth, the hot cum running down her throat.

'Mmmmmm', a muffled moan could be heard from her mouth as Momo drained your balls.

She could taste wad after wad, flowing into her mouth as your sister just sucked on your dick harder.

She could hear you taking in a deep breath and moaning out as she milked your cock to the final drops.

You came to a complete halt, watching as her eyes looked up at you with a look on her face still of pure lustful hunger.

She released it from her mouth with a pop sound and Momo leaned up, opening her mouth to reveal to you your white seed drenched in saliva.

She then closed her lips and loudly swallowed it before moaning.

"Hmm~ you came a lot (YN)-kun hehe~ almost drowned me~ and you're still hard~ Ara ara (YN)-kun~ your energy is impressive~"

You didn't respond as you caught your breath while Momo grinned.

"Now, it's time for some real fucking. No wasting time."

Shoving her body up against you, Momo threw her arms around your neck and began to kiss you passionately.

You responded by wrapping your arms around her back, slowly sliding your fingers down to grab at her ass cheeks, not caring where her mouth just was or consumed.

Upon feeling your hands digging in, squeezing her plump cheeks, Momo moaned into your mouth and when the kiss ended, she looked back at you and moved her hands, promptly shoving you to sit back down as she wasted no time straddling you.

She bent her knees after grabbing your cock with both hands, holding it forward so she could properly line herself up and come down on it.

You attempted to help her by moving the palms of your hands beneath her ass cheeks, but it didn't matter once Momo was ready.

She gazed down into your face and noticed that you were too busy staring down at her tits.

That was enough to convince her of the next move, as she slammed herself down and sent your cock up inside of her pussy with a loud gasp.

"Ohhhhhh!"

"Hmmm!"

You began to buck your hips, pumping your cock into her pussy while Momo moved her hands to your shoulders to help herself up.

She wanted to bounce for you, her huge tits were already jiggling around.

Phhhhp-Phhhhp-Phhhhp-Phhhhp-Phhhhp

Within a few seconds, the sound of your balls slapping up against her ass could be heard as she pumped herself down into the rhythm of you bucking your hips.

Momo closed her eyes, arching her head back as she moaned.

"Ohhhhhh, yeah! Fuck me Otouto!"

That beautiful long brown hair began to wave around while her breasts bounced back and forth.

Momo's pussy hammered down on your cock to the point you were forced to move your hands down to her ass.

Phhhhp-Phhhhp-Phhhhp-Phhhhp-Phhhhp

She arched her body forward, moving one hand to the back of your neck as she pushed your head down to where her boobs could crash over your face.

You pushed your lips out to her right nipple, beginning to suckle back and forth to each nipple as your mouth created various slurping and slobbering sounds.

"Mmmm~"

Momo moaned as she felt her brother's hard cock pumping into her blazing pussy, her lone nipple cold from your saliva with the other being devoured as you took all you could in your mouth.

Her fingers clenched into your shoulders; this was her moment, as Momo was determined now to ride your cock; her brother's cock.

"Hmph! Oh fuck!"

Phhhhp-Phhhhp-Phhhhp-Phhhhp-Phhhhp

Her voice rose in pitch as she bit down on her lower lip, feeling your cock thrust and throttle into her pussy with the way she rolled her hips.

"Fuck me! Fuck me!"

Momo shoved you back on the couch from her breasts, leaning your right hand down below as you began to buck your hips forward in an attempt to help her as they were now locked in the act of fucking Momo gasped before coming to a halt, her hair swaying and her breasts beginning to shake as she allowed you to take over.

Phhhhp-Phhhhp-Phhhhp-Phhhhp-Phhhhp

"That's it! Fuck me Onee-san!"

Momo leaned down, rubbing her chest up against you now as you began to buck your hips harder and faster.

"Ohhhh, ohhhhhhhh yeah!"

"Oh shit...oh shit..."

Over and over, your cock pumped in and out of your sister's tight pussy and soon feeling Momo's lips pushing against yours.

A muffled sound was heard of her attempt to moan into your mouth as their tongues began to dance together, all while you continued to thrust your cock through her cunt.

Wrapping your arms around her, you began to move on the couch in an attempt to change the position.

Momo threw her arms around your neck, still kissing you as she began to roll on her right side and you found a way to stand up now.

As the kiss broke, Momo lay on her back, gazing up to see your face; your cock remained lodged inside of her but now in this position, you could look down at her perfect body while fucking her.

"Oh god! Fuck me, (YN)!!"

She cried out to you, begging now as Momo spread her legs and you soon seized them.

After arching her built legs over your shoulders, you began to buck your hips and thrust your cock into her needy pussy again.

Squealing in pleasure, Momo screamed to you.

Phhhhp-Phhhhp-Phhhhp-Phhhhp-Phhhhp

"Ohhhh, ohhhhhhh yeah!!"

Her breasts shook, bouncing with each thrust you sent into her until she moved her hands to catch them.

Momo squeezed her tits together, still looking up into your eyes as she felt your fingers around her calves, curling her toes up at the feeling of your hard cock pumping into her, inch by inch.

You continued, picking up the pace with each thrust.

Phhhhp-Phhhhp-Phhhhp-Phhhhp-Phhhhp

"Fuck me! Ohhhhh, FUCK ME!!"

To hear Momo scream those words to you, you almost couldn't control yourself.

You continued to thrust, listening to the sound of their bodies smacking together, studying your sister's beautiful body with each passing second; everything about her was perfection in the body of a woman in your mind.

Momo closed her eyes, moving her right hand down below to begin playing with her clit, pinching it between her fingers while using her left forearm beneath her breasts, tilting them up as her fingers twitched at her clit, Momo panted and moaned.

You knew not to stop, as you fucked her to the height of her pleasure.

Opening her eyes, she cried out to you and then screamed.

"FUCK ME! OHHHH, OHHHHHH, OHHHHHHH (YN)!! DON'T STOP!!"

Phhhhp-Phhhhp-Phhhhp-Phhhhp-Phhhhp

She curled her toes and her feet moving about, as that was only another clue for you you had nearly fucked her into a climax.

You grunted, trying to hold back yourself as Momo gasped and began panting.

She dropped her lower lip, gasping at the feeling of your hard cock still pounding into her pussy.

Her fingers furiously worked her clit back and forth as she suddenly pulled her left hand away from her body and then screamed to you in a high pitch shattering voice.

"FUCK!! OHHH, OHHHH, OHHHHHHHHHHH...GOD!!"

As Momo screamed in experience of her orgasm, slapping sounds could be heard of your nuts smacking up against her ass.

You still pumped your dick into her, all while moaning as she swallowed her breath as your balls slapped against the undersides of her ass as you continued to pump at your moderate pace, giving her inch after inch of your long shaft.

You didn't want to stop but the rush of your orgasm was fast approaching and on cue.

"Oh, god! Ohhhh god, I'm gonna cum!"

"No! I want you to cum on my face!"

Breathing heavily, you removed your cock as Momo adjusted herself to be facing to the right as she pushed the palms of her hands down into the cushion surface, lifting herself lightly being face to face with your cock.

You wrapped your fingers around your dick, jerking it back and forth with your right hand as you began to aim it down at her face.

"Are you gonna cum on my face Otouto~?"

"Fuck yeah...hmm~"

She closed her eyes and opened her mouth.

"Cum all over me (YN)~ Mmmmmmm, I want my Otouto's cum to drench my face~"

Moving directly under your cock, Momo closed her eyes after she spoke and parted her lips, audibly moaning 'ah' while you continued to wank your cock for this moment.

There wasn't much time to wait as you soon groaned and felt your explosion begin.

"Ohhhhhh, ohhhhhhh~"

Within just a few seconds she heard you moan and then felt a thick string of cum shoot up over the right side of her forehead, drenching her eye and down her cheek.

A thick string of cum shot from your cock, flying into the air like silly string, completely avoiding her face, instead landing into the left side of her hair, just above her ear.

You grunted, and watched the second wad of cum shoot out of your cock and land across her right eye, drenching her eyebrow up the temple of her forehead and down her cheek.

Momo giggled upon feeling the warm cum splash across her skin.

A third wad of cum came out of your dick, splashing into her closed right eyelid while Momo giggled again, sticking her tongue out in a desperate attempt to catch any droplets of your seed.

"Oh my god, Momo..."

A few drops rained down onto her forehead, followed by another sticky string that slathered her left eye and forehead and again, Momo giggled and kept her eyes closed.

She stuck her tongue out again but soon felt the last wad of cum fall directly onto the right side temple of her face, drenching her hair above.

As your spurts began to weaken into drops, he held his cock over her forehead to empty out the final drops.

You were out of breath and appeared spent and lowered the head of your cock to her lips, squeezing it to get the last remaining drops out.

Her face was a complete wreck in your hot seed, almost like layers of icing over a beautiful cake.

As you were finished, Momo slowly opened her eyes.

She blinked, feeling the cum in her eye lids while a few drops fell from her eye brows, somewhat disappointed she didn't catch a single drop from above and the last bit of your cum had to be squeezed out, rubbing your cock against her lips, watching Momo eagerly part them and suck it clean.

"Damn...fucking hell Momo..."

At a loss of words, you didn't know what to say while standing there and gazing down at her cum drenched face.

You were satisfied to know you managed to unload several spurts for her as Momo gasped after swallowing what few drops of your semen she sucked from your cock.

Raising both of her hands, she wiped the cum from her closed eyes and could finally open them and see again.

"Heh~ Glad we did it?" She asked with a shit-eating grin as you nodded.

"Very...much..."

"Well, you know it's kind of unfair that you got to cum twice and me once."

You downgraded to gentle breaths as you smiled.

"I'm guessing you want to change that?"

Momo smirked.

"Get on your knees and turn this way," she commanded as you didn't know what she wanted, but you kneeled and turned your body a bit to the left of her, facing probably 30 degree angle from Momo, "good, now lean your head back,"

You understood now.

With your head leaned back, Momo rose from her lying position, feeling the effects of your onslaught of her pussy, but she's hoping this will be a more softer touch.

Momo now stood in front of you, you were eye level of your sister's pussy and not wasting more time, Momo planted herself down onto your mouth.

"Go ahead~ eat out your Onee-san~"

Soon, Momo was sliding her pussy from your chin all the way up to your forehead, leaving you sticky with her fluids and letting them slide into your mouth.

"Lick me," she ordered.

You did as she said while she grounded her pussy against your face.

Her thrusts were forceful without being painful, and there was just enough time between them for you to breathe a little through your mouth, although it felt like her juices were all the way inside your nose.

"Oh that's it~ stick your tongue in there (YN)-kun~"

She seemed to be done lubricating your face and now kept her grinding over your tongue.

As she dumped more and more of her pre cum into your mouth, you alternated between lapping it up and sucking it out of her as she grew bolder, really fucking your tongue.

You licked her faster and faster, and moved your head from side to side, occasionally turning it altogether and biting her thighs so she could fuck the sides of your face again.

"No~ I didn't say do that~" She cooed and ultimately held your head down so you could only face her.

That was fine, you loved watching her titties bounce and collide into each other.

You could feel her muscles contract around your tongue as you licked her in just the right way, and her lips opening to let her wet juices out as you lapped at them, her face contorting in time with her gyrations and with the spasming of her cunt.

"That feels so good~" she moaned as she looked straight down at you.

She locked eyes with yours and you could see the pleasure in her eyes as you moaned straight back into her cunt, completely submissive to her desires.

"Ah (YN)-kun! I'm gonna come soon!" she exclaimed.

You moaned into her cunt approvingly as she rode faster and faster.

"I want you to latch your lips onto it when I cum! Don't you waste a single drop!"

Her attitude leapt between blissfully absent, dominant and an all out frenzy.

"Hmph~"

You moaned into her cunt again as she kept riding and her moans kept coming with more and more frequency.

You were in ecstasy.

She kept grinding and moaning, until finally her moans became quick and heavy.

"Fucking suck on it, ah!" she was arched over you and you latched your lips around hers, feeling as wads of her cum streamed into your mouth with the pulsations of her body.

Her nails digging into your scalp and gripping your hair.

"Ah yeah (YN)-kun! Oh my god that's ama-ohhh! Ahhhh..."

Her hips bucked, and she kept grinding away until her orgasm while you licked up the streams of cum.

"Hmmm~"

"Ohhh...Ohhhh..."

You relished the feeling of her cumming in your mouth, as what was a forceful grip on your hair turned into a caress between sighs and pants.

You swallowed all the juices of your sister in a quick pace, feeling drops on your chin as Momo twitched in her post orgasm sensitivity.

She seemed completely satisfied, and your sure she could tell you were too.

Half a minute passed and Momo slowly hopped off your mouth, looking to meet your gaze and her work as she brought a hand on your chin, collecting the leftover cum and then smoothing over her slit, feeling your work.

You saw her fingers moist and then pointed at your mouth with them.

Getting the hint, you opened your mouth as Momo inserted her fingers inside after.

You clenthed your lips around her fingers and Momo pulled away, leaving her fingers dryer as the remains of her juices were left in your mouth.

"Good boy..." she complimented and slowly sat on the couch, leaning back on the cusions, huffing from her orgasm.

You joined her on her left as Momo laid her head on her shoulder.

"Amazing work, Onee-san..."

You didn't respond, keeping quiet as you relished the aftermath of the sex with your sister.

"..."

As Momo laid on you, her eyes fixed on the desk with the scattered notes and laptop.

The dimly lit room was filled with an uneasy tension as Momo wanted close comfort.

The minutes ticked away, reminding her that their time together was drawing to a close.

You would be leaving in a day, and the thought of being separated from you weighed heavily on Momo's heart.

Even after getting your promise of staying, she still hated that you had to leave again.

"Aishiteimasu (YN)-kun," (I love you (YN)-kun) she announced as you turned to her sight.

"Soshite Momo-nee o aishiteimasu," (And I love you Momo-nee)

You two smiled at another as their energy was zapped by their actions as Momo started to close her eyes.

"..."

"Uhh...Momo..."

"Hmm?"

"I know we're tired, but I think we really need to wash these cushions asap."

Momo opened her eyes and looked down at the couch.

"Oh...uh oh..."

----------------------------

TIMESKIP

Sunday morning

THUMP...THUMP...CRANK...

"This is as far as we can go Momo. Sorry." You stated as Momo sighed.

Usually, the airport terminal was bustling with travelers and the hum of conversations, a symphony of goodbyes and reunions.

But not for a trio.

You and Momo sat in the back seat of your rental, as a manager drove them to the airport.

After picking up the girls from the cabin, you two informed them of how it was coming along and they were impressed at how much information you two received in a day, but there was much to do.

So after dropping them off at their dorm, you and Momo went to travel around to a couple more companies to discuss several notions and regulations, but seeing as they couldn't do much more, it was a few hours before returning to the dorm and spending the rest of Saturday with the girls.

Sadly, days go faster when fun happens and nighttime quickly came.

You, Momo, Jeongyeon, Dahyun, Chaeyoung and Sana all slept in the living room after a long night of gaming and the rest in their rooms.

Morning came along and with you leaving early, only goodbyes were enough to have before you had to leave.

Saying a goodbye to each one, they bid you farewell as you, Momo and a manager of theirs went off with you and Momo in your rental car and their manager in a car behind to take Momo back when you drop off the car.

The sun was just beginning to cast long shadows across the highway and weighed heavily on Momo, who struggled to hide her sadness.

You tried to break the heavy silence that had settled in the car constantly during the ride, turning to Momo with a warm smile each time, your eyes filled with affection and then concern as Momo kept her eyes out the window.

CLICK

After parking in the free short-term parking lot for Momo to swap cars, her manager pulled up on the right of them.

You undid your seatbelt and turned to Momo, reached out, and gently patted her on the shoulder.

Momo turned to you; her silence spoke volumes, and it was a language you understood all too well.

Even with this plan in action, you two knew it wouldn't be simple to formulate something and deliver it to their parents.

This morning before heading off, you had to let Momo know that this could take a bit of more time to figure this out.

It wasn't enough for Momo, but at least it was something.

She was grateful for your efforts, but the reality of your departure was overwhelming and she managed a weak smile, nodding in understanding.

While the week they had was fun, a much-needed reunion, it was time for you to return home.

"Hopefully this will be the last time you return to Japan," Momo said as you smiled at her.

"Come here."

You raised your arms out and Momo unleashed her seatbelt as well and shifted into your hug, giving you a very tight embrace.

"Don't worry, it'll take maybe a week to get this sorted out and then I'll tell them. I'll tell you when I do okay?" You said to her, your arms around her as well.

"It better be a week," Momo complained as she lowered her grip and shifted her head away, your hands were now on her shoulders, "but I guess if it needs to be good, I'll give a week and one day."

"How charitable of you," Momo chuckled under you, but now it was time for the hard part.

If she was within her manager's sight, Momo would have given you a big kiss goodbye, but with her manager...damn she thought.

You two let the hug go slowly as Momo opened the door on her side.

Momo turned to you from her position as you looked at her.

"I love you," she stated.

"Love you more," you returned as Momo gave one final nod to you as you did the same and closed the passenger door and into the manager's car.

Getting in, she turned to see you driving off, deeper into the airport as Momo watched her brother until you disappeared from view, her heart heavy but filled with hope for their future.

She knew that this goodbye was just a temporary parting, and she held onto the promise that you had made.

"I know how difficult it is to say goodbye to family," she heard her manager as Momo nodded in your direction still, "but if it's any consolation, in our line of work, time passes very quickly and before you know it, he'll be back." Her manager attempted to bring some morale into her as Momo turned to him.

"I know. It's just sad to see him go."

"It always is. Ready?" He asked as Momo clicked her seatbelt and nodded slowly, her eyes turning to the airport as her manager proceeded to do a U-turn and leave the airport through the exit.

'I hope everything goes well...I believe in you (YN)-kun,' was Momo's last thought as they left the area.

=================================================

AND THAT'S THAT!

So, yeah, this isn't the final chapter of Momo's story.

As I kept writing, I realized that the chapter felt so rushed and not enough detail to my liking so I went back to the beginning to re-write/add more details here and there and it got to me thinking that it was taking WAY too long to finish up while I got other works to do.

Originally was suppose to have 2 smuts, but decided to extend the first one to that and leave the second one with Part 4.

I have already part of Part 4 but I didn't want to release a semi-crappy/rushed ending. I want it to have feels and such so I decided to cut off from the ending here and go to work on Part 4.

Now hopefully some of you will see (YN)'s side of wanting to be a family again. It might not be what most of you would be thinking like Jeongyeon said, but being with them and working alongside them, a connection could be formed, even if it's not that close.

And it's not as if they abused or anything, they just ignored you both.

And now my plans going forward.

I won't be working on my ONESHOT book as I'll be focusing on my SMUT and COACH books now.

Smuts I have way too much to write and Coach I really want to progress.

I am sorry for the lateness of my writing, and I'm not making excuses, but I am lazy af and I was holding off on writing for a bit.

Plus, it's pretty difficult to make each story different from each other so I'm trying my best to make each one feel unique-ish.

Anyway, that's all I got to say.

Thanks for taking a pause in your life to reading this! Vote/Comment if you want and thanks again!

#momo x y/n #twice momo #hirai momo #momo smut #momo x reader

348 notes · View notes

jymwahuwu · 6 months

Note

HAHAHA, I thought of something about...

what if jingyuan have tentacles?(Fem reader)

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Like....hmmm if you try to run away from him, JingYuan can grab you with his tentaclesssss,,,

when he is feeling mischievous, he will grope your breasts or your clothed clit<3

theennn, one day, you do something badddd, He then thought about punishing you, Then you think like 'huh, maybe another blowjob or mating press...'

Well, you're right. But, when you feel his dick inside your pussy, You felt something long stroking your ass and...ouch! A tentacle enters you— Before you could protest, suddenly another tentacle forced its way into your mouth. JingYuan chuckled Seeing your muffled protests, its so cute.

And,,, he added a few more tentacles—for both your cute nipples, and your clit♡

────────────────────────────

Or, When JingYuan was busy, he would just put his multiple tentacles inside you as he took care of his paperwork or something

So yeah thats all, have a nice day⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

Tentacles 😹😽 Even though I'm usually not interested in tentacles…but Jing Yuan, he's the best <3 I can take his tentacles <3

CW: yandere, non-con, tentacles, (implied) mental manipulation, mating press, female reader

If Jing Yuan had tentacles… imagine that his tentacles are slightly pink, two are relatively thick and round, and the rest are relatively long, extending from the back, and are usually perfectly hidden. He is a little shy, like a bird collecting treasures, just for his lover, you…

Jing Yuan can flexibly use his tentacles like extending his limbs to express intimacy and love. The tip of the tentacle touches your cheek and taps it, taps it- smooth. Contrary to stereotype, those tentacles are warm, not cold. Maybe it's like the way he is. Whenever you run away, your calf is pulled, your body loses balance, and you are pulled back by several tentacles until you return to his broad shoulders and arms (the general is reluctant to let you fall to the ground and get injured… so there are tentacles to hold you up, you will not fall). He sees it as a kind of fun, like playing with his pet lion Mimi. Mimi also likes to play this game, she runs out- and is guided home by his tentacles, carrying a toy ball in her mouth.

There are also punishments!! If you keep cursing him, or often do something wrong to test his limits, Jing Yuan has a temper >_< Blowjob or mating press are indeed common punishments from Jing Yuan, but with this assistance, he can regulate and stimulate your hidden parts. The elegant and erect cock enters your warm, tight vagina, the glans presses in front of the opening of your cervix, and then stops. Your legs have been pressed to your shoulders, and you can't even move at all. "Can you - can you move?" You propose with trembling lips, even though you know this is punishment. You never get used to mating press like this. Chuckle from the general had a condescending tone. And cock stayed in your vagina for two minutes, and then the pumping started. The first thrust pulled out most of the cock. As you stuck out the tip of your tongue, tears flowed down your cheeks, and then his cock buried again in the already twitching vagina.

Ah, you look so cute with that bounce of your butt.... no reason not to take care of these. All the tentacles on his back are stretched out, and several tentacles are exploring your butt, massaging, swirling, poking, and even squirting out some smooth and transparent liquid. "There…it's impossible there…" You squirmed, but a tentacle slid onto the tip of your tongue, suppressing and eliminating those words of rejection, leaving only those pleasant moans leaking out. At the same time, the unfamiliar place was smoothly expanded and stretched, and the wall greedily sucked the round and vital tentacles, mixing them with… the fluid that flowed out after being aroused.

It's impossible for your areolas on both sides to escape, of course. Two tentacles are massaging and pushing your breasts beside them, and another one is circling like a snake in the middle, squeezing and stimulating, as if if it takes a little longer, milk will be squeezed out…

Don't know if it's the pleasure… or you… to Jing Yuan… Your mind and consciousness are so confused that it feels like there is a mist. Your struggling waist and hands gradually stop, and you even moan in the spellbound. The strange thing is that you can still distinguish his eyes in the clouds and mist, and the tentacles wrapped around your hands are loosened. Your hands caressed his cheeks before kissing him.

Oh, and this further develops the creative ideas Jing Yuan wants to use on you. When working on official documents, those tentacles crawl into your panties to tease your clitoris and slap it gently, while your ass is spread open and twitched mercilessly by several tentacles working together. Others sneak under your clothes, curl in from the bottom of your bra and suck quietly on your hardened nipples. You whimpered beside him, while Jing Yuan just held his chin and turned the page of the document.

#alani.answers #yandere hsr #yandere honkai star rail #yandere jing yuan #yandere hsr x reader #yandere jing yuan x reader #honkai x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you

426 notes · View notes

subskz · 9 months

Text

ʚïɞ butterfly bandage - 05

note: this is the final part of a series (part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4)

content: bang chan/reader, university au, themes of twin flames, themes of soulmates, reader is female and referred to with she/her pronouns, angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of past unhealthy relationships, themes of death/grief, more crying (sorry), nsfw scenes

18+ content: sub chan, dom reader, soft smut, mirror sex, lots and lots of praise, body worship, biting, marking, possessiveness, teasing, channie is very embarrassed, handjob, begging, just a little bit of crying, edging, reader and chan are kinda obsessively in love, unprotected sex, riding, cockwarming

word count: 17.3k

A call of your name from across the lab caught your attention, just as you were preparing to collect your materials and head out for the day. Fumbling with your bag, you zipped it up as quickly as you could and headed towards your lab instructor, already bracing yourself for a conversation that, based on your track record with her, was very likely to be disheartening.

She lowered the stack of papers she’d been holding as you approached her, revealing her smile—a rare sight for anyone who worked under her.

��Yes?”

“Congratulations,” she announced. “Your paper’s approved.”

Your eyes widened as she handed the stack to you, over twenty pages of blood, sweat, and tears. They felt heavy in your hands, heavy with the weight of everything that had been sacrificed for their completion. Just a few days ago, the news would’ve had you over the moon. It was all you’d been wanting to hear, all you’d been dreaming of since you’d first begun your studies. Now, it was nothing more than a shallow comfort, a single drop of sunlight that was immediately obscured by the shadows all around it.

“Great,” you said at last, flashing a strained smile. “Thank you, Professor.”

She gave you a pat on the back, and you tried to find solace in the proud shine in her eyes. “You did well,” she praised. “I’m sure you’ll excel in your next rotation, too.”

“My next…rotation?”

Your instructor glanced down at her clipboard, adjusting her glasses with a hum. “Since your research has been approved, there’s no need for you to remain at your current station. You’ve spent quite a bit of time with those binary pairs,” she added. “You’ll be doing interferometric imaging for the next few weeks. We’re a few people short.”

Something twisted inside you. “Really?”

She looked up from her notes, quirking an eyebrow. “Is there a problem?”

“I…” you trailed off. There was nothing you could tell her that would be meaningful enough for her to let you stay—nothing that wouldn’t get you laughed at or even potentially dismissed from the lab for the rest of the semester. How on earth were you meant to explain that a pair of spectroscopic stars had come to mean so much to you? How on earth were you meant to explain what they signified in your mind?

“No, nothing,” you said weakly. “I’ll transfer my things tomorrow. Thank you.”

Your instructor nodded, and that was that. In the blink of an eye, you’d lost the final piece of what you’d had left of Chan.

You adjusted the strap of your bag, bowing quickly to her and turning to leave. Your pace quickened as you exited the lab, a wave of inexplicable emotions rising within you. It ushered you to head home as soon as possible, like it was a race against time, like you had to reach shelter before it crashed into the shore and drowned you in front of everyone.

A cold gust of air billowed past you as you pushed open the doors to the physics building. You squinted against it, burying your hands in your pockets. The sky was still covered with that same, gray sheet—much darker than it had been earlier in the week. The closer you studied it, the more it looked like the clouds might break at any given moment. All the more reason to rush home; you hadn’t brought an umbrella.

Your phone vibrated against your hand, and you fished it out of your pocket without thinking. Anything to distract you from this.

bin 😑 (2:27 p.m.) hey

bin 😑 (2:28 p.m.) is everything okay?

Just as you were about to close the notification, another came.

bin 😑 (2:30 p.m.) did something happen with chan?

You stopped in your tracks.

Did he really not know? Had Chan still not said anything to him?

Was Chan keeping it all to himself? Suffering in silence, even now?

You didn’t have to question it for long. Of course he was.

Against your better judgment, you typed out a reply, fingers stiff from the cold and—for some reason—thumb burning.

you (2:33 p.m.) i’m fine bin don’t worry about me

you (2:34 p.m.) please just be there for chan

bin 😑 (2:36 p.m.) where have u been??? i was worried

Guilt, guilt, guilt.

He wouldn’t be worried anymore when he found out the truth.

bin 😑 (2:38 p.m) pls talk to me

You wanted to talk to him. You so badly wanted to talk to him—not even about everything that had transpired over the past four days, just in general. You wanted to tease him, to laugh with him, to share a meal with him, to chatter about the most trivial, most mundane of topics with him because you could, because you enjoyed each other’s company and nothing else.

You missed your friend. But he was Chan’s friend first and foremost; Chan’s little brother. Losing Chan meant losing Changbin. The moment he’d find out what you’d done, how you’d hurt the person he admired most in this world, he would look at you with that same, dark glare that had unsettled you so much on the day you’d first met. Only this time, it wouldn’t be misleading, masking the kindness underneath. It would be real, intentional. He would mean every bit of it.

Minho’s glares were one thing. The thought of Changbin looking at you the same way was more than you could take. There was no place for you in his life anymore.

A droplet landed on your screen, splattering water across it and blurring the words of his message. You looked up at the sky. The clouds had broken.

You were going to cry.

It was for the best, probably. A pot could only withstand so much before it boiled over. And boil over, it did.

You pulled the hood of your jacket over your head just as the rain began to fall more steadily, sinking to the ground and settling on the curb of the sidewalk. You gave up on outrunning the wave. For once, uncaring of the people around you. For once, allowing yourself to be an inconvenience.

Vaguely, you felt another buzz in your pocket; repeating, persistent. Changbin must have been calling you. Pressure rose in your chest. A strange sound built in your throat, an unpleasant, unfamiliar sensation pricked at your eyes. But before droplets of your own could well up in their corners, before you could release, the feeling of rain pattering relentlessly against your clothes came to a sudden halt. Something had passed over you, shielding you from it.

You didn’t bother to look up, praying that whoever it was whose presence you felt hovering above you, they’d take the hint and leave you alone. Just a moment to wallow in your misery. Just a moment to feel without worrying about anyone or anything else. Even now, that was too much to ask for, it seemed.

Through the roaring downpour, you barely caught it—soft, airy.

“It’s raining.”

Your blood ran cold, chilling you more than any of the water seeping through your clothing, right down to your bones.

Of course. You almost laughed out loud. Of fucking course.

This had to be some kind of joke, the universe’s cruel finale to everything it had put you through over the past three years.

“Go away.”

“Aren’t you gonna congratulate me for learning how to use an umbrella?”

You peered up through the mess of hair and fabric blocking your vision, fixing him with a look fiercer than any of the insults he’d ever hurled your way.

“Go away.”

His stare didn’t waver, face unchanging as always. It must’ve been so easy, to be so unaffected. It must’ve been so easy, to care so little. He blinked down at you, and despite the static swarming your mind, through it all, you couldn’t help but notice that there was nothing harsh about the look he was giving you. Not quite warm, not quite cold. It was far from the self-satisfied expression of someone who knew he had been right all along. Of someone who knew that he had won.

“Come with me.”

You watched him blankly, too appalled to speak.

When you didn’t budge, he tilted his wrist, leaning his umbrella forward so that it covered you completely and exposed part of himself to the rain.

“I’ll get sick if you don’t.”

“Yeah? Brew yourself some yuja tea.”

His lip twitched into the beginnings of a smirk. Not smug, not condescending. Just faintly amused.

“That was pretty funny.” He tilted the umbrella further. The rain began to land on his hair, darkening it, weighing it down. “But I’m really starting to get cold, now.”

“I don’t care.”

He clicked his tongue. Still, he made no move to leave, not even to pull his umbrella back over himself. You might’ve been swayed by whatever approach he was taking if you weren’t too preoccupied with figuring out just how the hell you could get rid of this guy.

“By the way,” he added casually. “Changbin gave me something. I think it belongs to you?”

You cursed yourself for perking up so quickly, so obviously. It was only for a split second, but he caught on—of course he did—eyes glinting like a cat that had spotted its target in all your loose threads.

“What do you want?”

“Let’s talk,” he said. “Come with me, and the pencil’s all yours.”

You gave in. For whatever reason, Lee Minho had suddenly decided that you were now worth his time.

He didn’t offer his hand to help you come to full standing, but he kept the umbrella steadily above you as you rose from the curb, allowing himself to get drenched in the process. It almost made you grimace more than his usual behavior, solely because it felt so wrong. And, maybe, because you felt like you didn’t deserve it. Not even from someone like him.

As he led you down the sidewalk towards wherever he planned to take you, you inched away from him, back into the rain. He made no effort to move closer again, but you did notice his eyes flicker your way once or twice.

You shuffled awkwardly behind him, focus kept firmly on the pavement, feet kicking up water with every step you took. It wasn’t until the warm, addictive scent of freshly-ground coffee flooded your senses that you lifted your head with a start, just in time to see Minho wiping the bottom of his shoes on the campus library mat. He shook out his umbrella and stepped inside, seemingly debating for a moment whether or not he should hold the door open for you.

An ache gripped your heart, somehow, stronger than anything you’d felt over the past four days. It ached and throbbed and pulsed when you processed where you were headed. The table right across from the entrance, at the very back of the library.

You half-expected to find him there—shrouded in black, hunched over his laptop, one set of fingers playing with his lips, the other set tapping along to the melody of his music. But his seat was empty. He wasn't there anymore.

You tried to control the sheer enormity of your anguish as you approached its source. You’d already humiliated yourself enough in front of the last person you’d ever have wanted to witness it. Even if he didn’t seem nearly as delighted with your downfall as you’d imagined, the fact that he’d caught you more vulnerable than anyone else had before, more than Chan ever had, made your skin positively crawl.

Minho sat down with a heavy sigh, ruffling his hair in a half-hearted attempt to dry it out. He slipped off his drenched jacket, giving it a disgusted look before dropping it on the table.

“Want some coffee?”

“No.”

“It’ll warm you up.”

You narrowed your eyes. If you’d had any semblance of rationality left in your system, you would’ve told yourself that it was just an offhand comment, that he couldn’t possibly have known just how devoid of warmth you truly were. But you were far past that point. Everything he said was a trap and everything he did was a taunt.

When he saw that you had no plans to respond, he shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

“Where’s my pencil?”

“Oh,” he sniffed. “I lied about that.”

You bristled. “What?”

“I don’t have it,” he clarified. “I lied so you’d come with me. Get it?”

You reached for your bag, preparing to leave.

“You can take it from Changbin yourself,” he continued. “Once this is all fixed.”

For once, the absolute certainty with which he spoke, like anything that came out of his mouth was a prophecy waiting to be fulfilled, wasn’t used to stir doubt within you. You froze in place. Whether it was a flash of hope, or a stubborn indignation that kept you rooted to your chair, you weren’t quite sure.

“Once this is fixed?” you echoed, rife with hostility. “This is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it? Chan hates me just as much as you do, now. You win.”

“I don’t hate you.”

You scoffed, expecting the lie—because it had to be a lie, a jeer, a vicious way to kick you while you were down—to be followed by that same scornful sneer that had become all too familiar for your liking.

But it never came.

Your disbelief was only met with a sincere, unbreaking expression. No games, no underlying meaning. A complete contrast to everything you associated with Lee Minho.

“Are you serious?”

“You don’t believe me?” he feigned hurt, which you had half a mind to be infuriated about considering the many, many worse things he’d assumed about you. “I mean it. I don’t hate you.”

You blinked.

“I probably could’ve,” he added unhelpfully. “If what I'd thought about you turned out to be true. But really, I just didn’t trust you.”

You grunted to at least acknowledge his confession, unsure of how else you should react. If that was how he treated the people he didn’t trust, you’d love to know what his hatred looked like.

You’d long told yourself not to take it personally, but for some reason, there was an undeniable sting there. Maybe it was because Minho was eerily perceptive, so much that this whole ordeal had planted the idea in your head that he had to be correct. Or maybe, it was because you’d always felt like there was a bit of truth to his impression of you, even before you’d met him, even before his opinion of you had sunk straight into the gutter. Having someone else say it out loud had just forced you to come to terms with it.

That constant voice in the back of your head, etching guilt into your mind. Telling you that you liked hurting the people who depended on you, that you liked to build them a safe haven and then crush it before their very eyes. Exactly what he had claimed you’d done to him.

Exactly what you’d done to Chan.

“Am I making things worse?” Minho tilted his head.

“No,” you answered, and it was mostly honest. “Go on.”

He said nothing, eyeing you for a moment longer. It put you on high alert. Similarly to Chan, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was delving straight into your center—but unlike Chan, there was no comfort of being able to stare right back into his.

“You probably know this by now, but Chan is an easy target for a lot of people,” he began. Slow, deliberate, no playful lilt to it. “He can usually tell when he’s being mistreated, but even so, he puts up with it. He thinks he can make it all better.”

You shifted uncomfortably in your spot, concentrating on the rain droplets that hadn’t yet dried from your hair. “Yeah, I know.”

I know better than you. The petty side of you wanted to tack on. But you decided against it, instead choosing to foster whatever kind of tentative truce was coming to fruition here.

Minho paused again. “Right.”

“So, what, you thought I was one of those people?”

“Mm.” Blunt as ever. “Like I said, I've seen the type before. And if Chan wasn’t going to do anything about it, then I was.”

He’d changed his wording, you noticed. It had been your type before, uttered with all the contempt and venom in the world. You wanted to find consolation in that subtle difference, but it didn’t stop the memory from rousing your defiance all over again.

“You think he can’t make decisions for himself?”

It was a risk—hypocritical, too, when you knew firsthand what kind of decisions Chan made for himself, when you knew firsthand the powerlessness of trying to get him to stop—but you said it anyway. Minho hummed, leaning back in his chair, as if the challenge in your words hadn’t affected him in the slightest.

“Of course he can,” he replied evenly. “Doesn’t make them right. When you see your friend make the same decision over and over and get hurt every single time, wouldn’t it be cruel to just sit by and watch?”

He looked off to the side, and if you hadn’t known any better, you might’ve thought that he was—God forbid—trying to prevent you from possibly catching on to an emotion of his.

“That’s what real insanity is—isn’t that how the saying goes? Repeating the same thing and expecting different results.”

You knew, deep down, that his explanation made sense, and somehow, that only stung more. You felt wronged, like the collateral damage for all the people who had harmed Chan in the past. Knowing Minho had treated you so coldly out of the goodness of his heart wasn’t much of a compensation. In a childish sense, it made things even worse, because now, your own negative feelings towards him felt unjustified.

That didn’t even begin to cover the fact that he had been right.

Every part of you wanted to object to him lumping you in with all the others as the same decision, but in the end, you were just another name on the endless list of people who had hurt Chan.

When he saw how long you’d gone silent for, Minho spoke up again, looking unsure of himself for what may very well have been the first time in his life.

“I’m…” he huffed. “Look, I was wrong.”

As always, what he said was the polar opposite of what you’d been thinking. It was almost comical, how the wavelengths the two of you operated on were so determined to be different in every conceivable way.

His ears, you noticed, had dusted red at the tips—the exact same way Chan’s would flare up when he was flustered. You hated how it weakened your resolve, how his mere association with Chan had you more than willing to accept his olive branch, however awkwardly shaped it was.

“Chan’s done a lot for me—for everyone. I just wanted to protect him.”

That was the point of convergence, the one, precious point where your waves intersected. The desire to keep Chan safe. You understood it better than anything else, and so, for that fleeting moment, you understood Minho. Still, your pride—something you’d repressed far too many times in your attempts to reconcile with him before—wasn’t quite ready to back down.

“But you barely even knew me,” you protested. “What did I do to make you decide that you hated me all of a sudden?”

“Didn’t hate you,” he corrected.

You pressed your lips together into an annoyed line. “What made you think I wanted to…to hurt him?”

Minho looked contemplative, and you found yourself worrying that he may simply decide not to tell you. You wouldn’t put it past him. It would be painfully on-brand, actually, at least with the version of him that you’d come to know.

“Chan came home crying.”

Your throat went dry.

“What?” you rasped. “When?”

“Back in July. The morning I got back from summer break.”

The morning after you’d first slept together. All at once, everything snapped into place—pieces of the puzzle that you hadn’t been able to connect, pieces that you hadn’t even known were missing in the first place.

“So, he comes home from your place, crying, with those marks all over his neck,” he explained. “It wasn’t the first time something like that happened. I put two and two together.”

You felt sick enough that you actually feared you might throw up, right there, on the library floor.

“I thought he must’ve landed himself in a bad spot again. With someone who only wanted to use him.”

“Why?” You gripped your soaked bag to your chest, with so much force that residual water began to dribble out of it. “Why was he crying?”

How did I hurt him? You wanted to add. Why didn’t he tell me? Why didn’t I notice?

How could you have ever let this happen?

Minho hesitated, and you squeezed your eyes shut, not entirely certain that you even wanted to hear the answer.

“He was happy.”

Confusion. And then, relief. And then, confusion again. The turmoil must have been written all over your face, because Minho ever so graciously decided to elaborate.

“I didn’t find that part out until yesterday, though. Not much of a happy crier, myself.”

A fresh surge of anger overtook everything else you were struggling to comprehend. Thoughts of what could’ve been, of how it all might have turned out if it weren’t for the man in front of you. The man who had given you all the tools in chiseling your self-doubt to perfection, who had passed you the hammer to destroy what you loved most.

You wanted it to be his fault. It would be so easy to pin the blame all on him. But nothing was ever that easy. Nothing was ever that simple. Even without the right tools, you would’ve found a way to destroy it regardless. It was what you were best at.

“You didn’t bother to ask him!?” you snapped.

“Oh. You think I’m stupid.” A glimpse of his former sharpness. You had to stop yourself from saying yes, just to spite him. “Of course, I asked. More than once. But his answer was the same as always—he smiled and told me not to worry. He’d say it with a gun to his head.”

You frowned. It was too much to process at once, too much for your already worn-down brain to compute. All you could really make sense of was a gut feeling, an instinct, telling you that you’d made a horrible, horrible mistake.

“I talked to Chan yesterday,” he mellowed again, back to his usual, airy tenor. “He told me everything. He doesn’t seem to fully understand it, but I do.”

Minho locked eyes with you, deep, intense. No longer the look of someone that had decided you were guilty, but a look that warned you that he would know if you were lying to him.

“You care about him, don’t you?”

It sounded more like a statement than a question, but you nodded, anyway. Such a simple thing to admit to. How could such a simple thing have ever led to all of this?

“Yeah,” you mumbled. “That’s why I did it. I was afraid I’d end up…”

You took in a shaky breath.

“I just didn’t want to hurt him.”

“Ah, seriously.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, and he laughed. Incredulous, dry, ending with an exhale. “You broke up with him because you didn’t want to hurt him? Do you realize how insane that sounds?”

Your face heated up. “You’re the one who thought I would in the first place!”

“But I was wrong.”

You were taken aback by how plainly he admitted to it, how that indestructible, stubborn pride of his was extinguished the instant he’d learned it had harmed someone he cared about. Even more troubling than that, was that you could tell he was apologetic, even without him saying it outright. All of this, as annoyingly as he was going about it, was his apology to you. Changbin’s words—fond and reassuring and, now, truer than ever—reverberated in your mind. Soft at heart.

“People are supposed to help each other. You know that, right?”

You snorted at the absurdity of the question.

“Obviously.”

“So why are you so weird about it?”

“It’s different with Chan,” you insisted. “You said it yourself. He does so much—everyone takes so much from him. I didn’t want to do the same.”

“But that’s still not fair, is it?” he countered. “You’d just be giving everything instead. Chan doesn’t want that, either.”

You opened your mouth to argue, only for the words to die in your throat. There was no way to justify it without sounding ridiculous—maybe, because it was a bit ridiculous. But Chan was the exception, he would always be the exception. You would give everything to him because you knew he would never take it for granted. You would give everything to him because he’d already given everyone so much.

Because he��d given you so much.

Ah.

“God, you two are so—” Minho cradled his head dramatically, sensing that you’d finally worked it out in your mind. “You’ve already got the hardest part figured out. Just learn to take once in a while. You’re not gonna die.”

“But he won’t change unless I do,” you muttered. “I know he won’t.”

He gave you a look of pure exasperation, as if the answer couldn’t have been more obvious.

“So, change.”

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

The feeling of your heart threatening to burst out of your chest, courtesy of Bang Christopher Chan, was one you’d become well-acquainted with over the past seven months. But of all the times you’d experienced it, it’d never been quite like this. This was something else entirely.

A day to mull everything over after your conversation with Minho, a sleepless night spent trying and failing to map out how you could possibly approach the situation, and over an hour of pacing restlessly around your apartment—all useless in ebbing the adrenaline that coursed through your veins. Before the clock had even struck 10:00 a.m., you’d not only felt like you had run a marathon, but that you could run another for good measure.

You’d spoken to Changbin first. He at least deserved to know what was going on. He deserved an apology, even if the very real possibility that he would never speak to you again afterwards made your stomach churn. On a more selfish note—you figured today was as good as any to start with that—you’d also just really, really missed him.

As it turned out, he’d more or less come to grasp the situation, even when being protected from all angles. Between what little Minho had let slip, Chan’s avoidant behavior (to the surprise of no one, he’d hardly let Changbin know a thing) and your vaguely ominous texts, he’d gathered up enough bits and pieces for his genius intuition to fill in the gaps. The sound of his voice once you’d revealed what had happened in full; compassionate, calm—not an ounce of the disdain you’d resigned yourself to be met with so viciously—had almost been enough to make you choke up.

“You should’ve told me,” he’d chided. “Why do you love doing that to yourself? What, you think I’m not strong enough to lean on?”

You’d let out a long exhale, heavy with all the apprehension you released with it; relieved, embarrassed. “It’s not that, Bin,” you’d mumbled. “I didn’t want to trouble you. Not when Chan and Minho both mean so much to you.”

“And you think you don’t? C’mon, you’re supposed to be the smart one here.”

Naturally, it only added to your guilt, that you’d created such an uncharacteristically cruel image of him in your head. This was Seo Changbin, after all. A great talker, but an even better listener, and as much as he liked to tease Chan for his age, he had a level of emotional intelligence far beyond his years. A wisdom that you would probably do well to learn from whenever it bothered to make an appearance.

At the same time, however, this was Seo Changbin, the one man show, Leo incarnate. Once the relief of hearing back from you had eased his conscience (as much as it could, knowing how horribly tangled up everything had become), the theatrics had ensued.

“Dating my best friend is one thing, but breaking his heart is off limits!” he’d complained. It was mostly light. No real anger behind it, just plenty of highly-warranted frustration. “Not only that—breaking your own heart too! What am I supposed to do with two brokenhearted best friends? Hang out with Minho!?”

After a slew of loud, nagging, reprimands, and a very serious threat that Cinnamoroll would be held hostage until further notice, Changbin had let you go. For the first time in five days, you’d laughed. You’d never felt more grateful, or more stupid, in your life. He made it all sound so simple. Lee Minho, quite possibly the most convoluted piece of work you’d ever encountered in this world, had made it all sound so simple.

You could only hope that you hadn’t crushed it into something infinitely more complicated, something beyond repair.

The trembling of your fingers, coupled with that strange sensation in your thumb that had yet to go away, made it difficult for you to type properly. Still, you persisted, throwing caution to the wind. Caution had ruled over you for far too long, anyway.

you (10:03 a.m.) hi

you (10:04 a.m.) i understand if you want some space right now but if you can, i’d like to talk

You prepared to lock your phone, not expecting a reply for some time—if any at all. Even under normal circumstances, he didn’t always get back to you right away. But, well, maybe the fact that the circumstances were anything but normal should’ve been enough for you to know better, because you didn’t even get the chance to swipe out of your messaging app before you noticed three little dots below your chat bubble.

Appearing. Disappearing. Appearing. Disappearing. Just a sign of life from him, and your palms had grown clammy. With fear, anticipation, dread. The dread of being met with anything but love, anything but warmth.

Then, at last, a single word.

channie 🐺 (10:08 a.m.) about?

you (10:08 a.m.) everything us

This time, it took him longer to respond. Ignoring every instinct that screamed otherwise, you typed up another text. There was no use hiding. There was never any use hiding with him.

you (10:12 a.m.) i don’t think i can do this

Almost immediately.

channie 🐺 (10:12 a.m.) me neither

Your heart leapt. You didn’t want it to give you hope. He had every right, every reason in the world, to not give you the time of day. He could get his closure and leave you, just as you’d left him.

channie 🐺 (10:13 a.m.) i can be over in 10?

A million thoughts sparked to life at once. The question of why he was already so close by. The urge to insist that you go meet him instead. The sudden realization that you were in no way prepared to see him so soon.

But all of it, overwhelming as it was, didn’t hold a candle to your strongest desire—a desire that could never be subdued by anything else. To put Chan first.

you (10:14 a.m.) okay, sure see you soon

You didn't deserve to say it, so you added it in your head. Get here safe, Channie.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

Chan looked tired when you opened the door. Eyes dull, drooping, littered with traces of pink and lined with dark circles. A few stray curls peeked out from beneath his beanie. You prayed that the black hoodie he was wearing wasn’t the same one he’d had on five days ago. He looked so tired. Tired and cold.

His gaze met yours. Just for a heartbeat, then it fell to the ground. You wanted to think it was because he felt self-conscious, you wanted to think it was that shyness—that hopelessly endearing shyness that got the best of him no matter how many times he looked at you. You didn’t want to believe that he simply couldn’t stomach the sight of you anymore.

“Are you okay?”

Chan tensed. Then, he caught you eyeing the bandaid on his thumb. He brushed his finger over it absentmindedly. He’d thought the pain had faded until now.

“Yeah. Just cut my finger.”

Your expression changed.

“On accident.”

“Oh,” you murmured. “Does it hurt?”

“A bit.”

You reached up to tug at your ear. He swiped his thumb over his nose.

“I—” you swallowed. The moment he’d stepped through the door, everything you’d so carefully planned to say, every point you’d spent hours trying to piece together into something comprehensible, was immediately tossed out the window. You had to navigate this in real time. There was no map for it—the path to something better. The only place you’d ever journeyed was your own destruction.

“I’m so sorry,” you blurted out. “I think I messed up.”

He lifted his head. For once, unreadable.

“What do you mean?”

He knew what you meant, you were sure of it. But he wanted you to say it—needed you to say it. He needed you to dare to open yourself up to him, just as he had to you.

You understood now. That was the most important thing you could’ve ever given him, yet the one thing you’d refused to give.

“I’m not used to this,” you confessed. “I don’t know how to get used to it. You’re…you’re so good, Chan. To everyone. To me.”

Already, cracks were beginning to form in your composure. You had to keep it together, just enough to fix this. Just enough to hold the mirror up to him before it shattered.

“When someone that good comes into your life, you wanna do everything you can to keep them, y’know? I wanted to do everything for you.”

Chan’s breath caught in his throat, audibly, and you knew a protest was building on his tongue. So, you barreled through.

“It’s exactly because you’re so good that I got so scared. Because you wouldn’t just let me do it all for you like everyone else does.”

There was a pause, long and heavy enough for you to debate if you should just keep going, to air it all out and pray that at least some of it would come out sensical. But before you could, he spoke up, attentive as ever in what he chose to focus on. He narrowed it down like second nature, sought out the most essential part. The root of it all.

“You were scared?”

You winced. “I…yeah.”

“I’m sorry.”

Whatever remained of your heart from the past few days was effectively smashed into pieces. An apology from the last person on earth you needed to hear it from. An apology from someone who was owed so many apologies. From you, from himself, and from countless others who would never have to say it.

“Why are you sorry?”

“I drove you to this, didn't I?” he whispered. “I thought about it the past few days—talked with Minho about it. I put you in a position you didn’t want. It’s my fault.”

“Oh, Channie,” it slipped out so naturally, with such ease, you didn’t even have the chance to second-guess yourself. “Your only fault is the way you treat yourself.”

Chan didn’t appear convinced. He shuffled his feet from side to side, hands heavy in the pocket of his hoodie. Restless, ashamed. Still not looking you in the eye. You weren’t grateful for it anymore; you missed his gaze. Dark and reflective, kind and curious. Seeing right through you, even with all its flickering around.

“Maybe I needed to be put in that position,” you continued. “I was just too much of a coward to take it. B-because you were right. I try to be everything for people, then I end up being nothing. I was so afraid I was going to do that to you—or even worse. I was afraid I was going to be the one taking everything from you.”

“Why would you ever think that?” he sounded so helpless, like you were communicating in two completely foreign tongues. No room for speaking in riddles. “I saw every little way you cared for me. Always. Did you think I didn’t?”

Challenging him meant challenging yourself. You’d taken the plunge acutely aware of that fact, this time. Still, the panic rose in your chest all over again, the itch in your feet goaded you to turn and run.

“I know you did. And that’s more than enough for me.” You forced yourself to take a step forward instead, desperate to get through to him, desperate to reach him. “But when you do these things for me at your own expense…when you don’t tell me about it, don’t you see how that could scare me? As someone who cares about you?”

In all the time you’d known Chan, you’d never once have guessed that he could be so difficult. But if that unshakeable stubbornness would emerge over anything, of course it would be this. He would never make things difficult for anyone but himself. You still remembered how plainly he’d said it, how bleak and merciless and cold it had been: “It doesn’t matter.”

You could tell he sensed how on-edge you were, how laughably out of your element something like this was for you. But you were pushing yourself—for him. So, like a true reflection, he matched you.

“I guess I was scared, too,” he admitted quietly. “It’s been the only thing I know how to do for so long. I thought…I-I thought you’d leave if I did anything else. Because why else would you stay, y’know?”

You’d known it. Even before he’d bared himself to you, even before you’d had the knowledge to connect all the dots, you’d felt it, deep within you. But that didn’t make hearing him say it out loud any less devastating.

“I don’t love you because of what you can do for me, Chan.”

His eyes shot up at last. Wide, intense, searching. Realigning with you. A break in the fog that had been clouding your view of each other for the past five days.

It may have been unfair—cruel, even—to say now. But you needed him to hear it, even if this was the end of the road for you and him. You needed to at least plant the seed in his mind with the hopes that one day, with enough care, it might sprout into something beautiful.

“You’re worth so much as you are,” you tried to get a handle on the shake creeping into it. “You do so much for me just by being yourself.”

Chan blinked. Pupils darting between you and the floor, hands slipping from his pockets, face muscles twisting in an internal conflict. You could see him physically exerting all his willpower to not reject the idea—to dare to accept a love so unconditional, solely so that you might accept it in return.

“If I told you the same thing,” he began slowly. “Would you believe me?”

You sucked in a deep breath. “I can learn to believe it.”

His fingers flexed. You realized for the first time how close the distance between you and him had become—drifting towards each other involuntarily. That inevitable, magnetic pull, more powerful than any of the forces you’d studied in four years.

“Okay.” He was reaching out for you. “Then, how about we learn together, yeah?”

Your heart jumped against your ribcage. Over his words. Over the sight of his pinky, held out in earnest despite you giving it such little reason to ever do so again, waiting patiently to curl against yours.

You’d believe in anything that connected you to him.

“Together.”

Just as quickly as things had fallen apart, the foundation was laid out for them to be put back together. A steady foundation, built to last. Your belief that day had turned out to be true, after all. Everything always worked out when you talked to Chan. When you leaned into him. When you didn’t run.

Heat rippled through you the instant your fingers entwined, fiercer, more all-consuming than even the first time you’d ever touched. Still, neither of you pulled away. For the first time in five days, you were warm again.

The new, unspoken promise igniting to life between you reminded you of another; one that you’d let sit on your ledger for far too long. One you’d made so carelessly to the boy who deserved all the care in the world. The boy who treated you with all the care in the world.

“I’m going to be more selfish from now on.” You tightened your hold on his pinky, creating a fresh buzz of heat. “Because I want you to be, too.”

You thought you were hallucinating it for a second, the beginnings of a grin on Chan’s face. Soft cheeks rising, not enough to draw out his dimples or eclipse his eyes, but enough to make you certain of your decision. The key you’d tossed out a year and a half ago was in that smile.

“Guess I’ve got no choice but to mirror you.”

“That’s right,” any firmness it might’ve had was lost to a smile of your own. Exhausted, but tragically enamored with the boy in front of you. “Since you wanna be my other half so bad, and all.”

He giggled. Short, sweet, playing the strings of your heart like a harp. Or, rather, its melody was the sound of your heart.

“I’m gonna tell you some things,” you warned. “And they’re not going to be nice. Or good. Is that okay?”

“Anything.” He unhooked his pinky from yours, only to wiggle his sleeve back and weave all of your fingers together instead. Five fingers, one for each of the days you’d spent apart. Your palm pressed against his, pumping faintly with your quickening pulse. “Tell me anything.”

You inhaled. Better to start with something smaller, first. A test run in this whole emotional openness thing.

“About Minho…”

“He gave you plenty of trouble, didn’t he?”

You puffed out a soft laugh. “Well, I gave him some back.”

“I scolded him,” Chan mumbled. “A lot. Bin did, too.”

You tried not to feel too satisfied about it. The idea of Chan, so doting, so unabashed in his adoration for the younger boy, rebuking him, addressing him with anything but overflowing fondness. You would take it as a small, private victory—one that Minho didn’t need to know about now that you’d both chosen to bury the hatchet.

“But…I hope you won’t think badly of him. He means well, really. He’s—”

“Soft at heart, right?” you finished for him. “It’s okay, we talked it out in the end. I think."

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Yeah, he told me.”

You could’ve laughed. Lee Minho. You never thought you’d see the day where the mention of him wouldn’t be promptly followed by a wave of absolute revulsion. You wondered if he was the reason Chan had even agreed to see you today. You wondered if he was the reason Chan had only been ten minutes away from your apartment before you’d even sent him a message.

“I just wish you’d told me.”

I wish you’d told me. They were words you’d said to him so many times, words you’d wanted to say on even more occasions. But it was in your hands, now. You were in each other’s hands, now. You didn’t have to wish anymore.

“I know.” You gave his palm a squeeze. “But you can see why I didn’t, right?”

He nodded, sheepish, well aware that it was a pointed question.

“A lot of the things Minho did were to protect you,” you murmured. “But, a lot of the things he said were things someone else once said to me. I guess it made them easier to believe.”

Chan’s thumb glided delicately across the back of your hand. You knew he could predict where this was going.

“When you told me about what happened two years ago, I think I related to you a lot. I think it was one of those shared experiences you talked about.”

Each sentence felt like it was being dragged out of you, uprooted. But it was necessary. Clearing the weeds out to make room for something less parasitic—maybe, even flowers. “My last relationship was with someone who took a lot out of me, too. He needed someone to depend on. I…I wanted to be that for him.”

“I know you did.” Gentle, sad. A tenderness for you and, hopefully, himself. It gave you the strength to keep going.

“He needed so many things, felt so many things. All his emotions became mine until I didn’t have any for myself,” you were losing control of your voice again. “I didn’t understand how you could ever blame yourself for what that girl did to you. But, really, I’ve always blamed myself, too. Because I let him rely on me. I promised to be everything for him, then I left.”

“But he never let you rely on him, did he?” Chan didn’t miss a beat, like he already knew the answer. “He wanted you to carry it all yourself.”

You averted your stare. “M-maybe. And maybe I wanted that, too. Some people just need more support than others, y’know? I thought I could handle it.”

You always thought you could handle it, even when every past experience proved otherwise. That was yet another thing Minho had been right about. You’d driven yourself mad repeating the same cycle over and over again, deluding yourself into thinking it could ever turn out any different.

“Nobody needs no support at all,” he pointed out. “Not even someone as strong as you.”

Strong. Hearing the word come out of his mouth—his perfect mouth, in that light, melodic voice—pricked at your eyes. It was a term you’d never once thought to describe yourself with. It was the exact opposite of everything you’d come to believe about yourself. You wanted to reject it, to crush the idea before letting it get to your head. But how could you, when it came from the strongest person you knew? How could you do anything but cling to it, cherish it?

“I don’t know if I’m strong,” you muttered, blinking away what was sure to come eventually. “It’s just that every time I’ve tried to lean on someone, they let me fall. So it’s better to stand on my own.”

“Yeah. I understand."

You knew that much was true. You knew, painfully well, how much he understood. And you knew he still thought you were strong.

“I…” Everything had been put into place—or, rather, everything had been properly displaced—for the dam to break loose. Tentatively, lovingly, he was helping you pull out each log. It filled you with fear, down to every last fiber of your being, but you knew that you could break in front of him. He wouldn’t crumble with you. He wouldn’t shatter over the mere prospect of you expressing an emotion of your own. He’d let you release, and when it was all over, he’d help you pick up the pieces. Just as you had with him.

“I lost my friend last year.”

“Lost…?”

“I mean, she passed away—last summer. She was in an accident back home.”

Such a common way to die for someone who was anything but. Such a special person to become part of such an ordinary statistic. Chan’s face morphed into something heartbreaking, a look that told you he felt everything you were feeling in that moment. The gears were turning in his head, you could see it unfolding through your blurred vision. That was why you hadn’t wanted to return home over the summer. That was why you’d come back to him so soon.

“I’m so sorry.”

You knew he wasn’t only giving his condolences, he was apologizing for ever cornering you to reveal it. For forcing you to unveil the wound that had been festering for so long. Bleeding with no signs of stopping, neglected with no signs of healing.

“It’s okay, I—” A lump rose in your throat. “I need to talk about it, I think. Never really did.”

His hand tugged at yours, just barely, uncertain. Always hesitant to pull you as close as he really wanted. You leaned forward all at once, falling into him. And he caught you.

“Never?”

“I tried once.” You rested your head against him, and his arms locked securely around you straight away. No room for you to fear, even for a second, that he might let you fall. “I tried to tell him. He always said he felt bad that he wasn’t there for me like I was for him. B-but…” The wave was rising again. “He just left.”

You couldn’t see Chan’s expression, you weren’t sure if you wanted to. You didn’t want to know what anger might look like on such an angelic face. But you could feel it, his jaw clenching, his muscles tensing. You figured he must look something like you had that night in October, struggling to maintain the delicacy in your movements as he revealed things that had filled you with a protective fire.

“He left?” Chan repeated, strained. “He left you like that?”

“Yeah. I-I guess it made him feel worse to be there.”

His hand began to run slowly up and down your back; drawing out your pain and soothing it simultaneously. When he spoke again, his tone was softer. He’d put his anger to the side, just as you had that night. “It must have been lonely for you.”

Lonely. Something else you’d never once considered. Something else that became so obvious only once he’d said it. You’d always been surrounded by people, but they were all flocking to a version of you that didn’t exist. A version you’d let them believe was real, because that was so much easier. Maybe the version of you, in your truest form, had been lonely.

“A little.” You buried your nose into his hoodie. No scent of sweet citrus today, no vanilla cherry blossom. Just him. “I think she’s the only one I could’ve talked to about it. She…she was a lot like you, in some ways.”

Something seemed to dawn on Chan, because he gripped you a little tighter, pulled you impossibly closer. The realization that the universe had taken away the only person you’d ever come to rely on. Of course you would be terrified to ever let anyone take that role again.

“She sounds exactly like the kind of friend you deserve,” his voice rumbled softly where you rested against his chest. “You can tell me about her. About it all. I’m here to listen.”

“I want to,” you took in a sharp inhale. “But I think I’m going to cry.”

“You can do that, too.”

The wave engulfed you in full. For the first time since the day you’d lost her, you allowed yourself to cry over her.

Given how long you’d been holding it in, it didn’t come out nearly as explosive as you’d expected. The tears slipped from your eyes and down your cheeks without a sound, but they came and came and came. Each hot stream was immediately followed by a fresh one, a buildup of all the sorrow you’d kept sealed inside you for the past year and a half, and all the years before that. You didn’t sob or wail or scream out, but with how tightly Chan was holding you, you were certain he felt every tremor, every subdued hiccup, every droplet soaking through his clothes.

“It’ll be okay, one day,” he promised. “You’ll remember all the happy times with her. That’s something you can never lose.”

You hoped it was true. You hoped that one day, you could step off the train in your hometown, take in the pine-tinged summer air, pick a chrysanthemum from that flower stall, and remember her with that warm, glowing ball of light you used to carry in your chest.

Chan didn’t stop rubbing your back the entire time you cried. He didn’t stop enveloping you in his warmth. He didn’t stop humming sweetly in your ear.

He didn’t leave.

The tears eventually stopped flowing, not because it didn’t hurt anymore—you just didn’t think your body could keep up. No amount of tears could ever live up to your grief for her. But your breathing slowed, your shaking steadied, and, as much as your head positively throbbed, a sense of tranquility came with it, one you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt.

“Thank you, Channie,” you mumbled. “Thank you for being here.��

“Thank you for trusting me.”

After everything you’d put him through the past five days, after he’d listened to you so intently and patiently as you poured your heart out, after he’d comforted you when he was still in such a fragile state himself, he was thanking you. It was hopeless. You would fall in love with him over and over again, every moment you spent with him.

“Have you…” he hesitated. “Have you ever thought about talking to someone? About everything?”

“No,” you choked out a sad laugh. “Not really.”

Chan hummed again, quiet. He rested his hand on the back of your head, as if to pull you so far into him that you’d meld fully together.

“You shouldn’t torture yourself anymore,” he murmured.

“Neither should you.”

So immediate, so resolute, it made him stiffen against you.

“My stuff doesn’t compare to any of this.”

“That’s not true. You’ve only told me the half of it, haven’t you?” You curled your fingers a bit tighter around his hoodie. “You've been through so much to become this strong, haven’t you?”

The peaceful drag of his hand finally stopped. When he spoke, his voice was thick with emotion. He'd been holding it together up until now, for you, even if your every tremble and sniffle made his chest ache like your pain was his own.

“Maybe,” he rasped.

“So, let’s work towards something better. Together.”

“Together,” he agreed.

You raised your head at last, squeezing your eyes shut so that any remaining trace of tears trickled free. Chan reached up to swipe the droplets away with his thumb, soaking his bandaid. Still, neither of you let go. There were so many things to let go of, but not each other.

“I finished Placebo,” he said softly. “Do you want to hear it?”

The final promise that had yet to be fulfilled.

“Yeah,” you smiled. Weak, a piteous sight, probably, but genuine. “It makes me happy.”

You were lulled back to that day in April, seated next to Chan in the warm, coffee-infused atmosphere of the library, trying not to fall head over heels in love with him right then and there while he played the instrumental for you with a giddiness so uncontainable that he had to bite down on his fist. As you heard Placebo’s lyrics for the first time—lyrics that had gone through countless rearrangements, rewrites, and delays—you decided it must’ve been fate that it had been brought to completion now, of all times. You felt Chan in every line, every vitalizing beat, every nostalgic melody of the synth. You understood it better now than you ever would have back then.

But just as you’d predicted on that warm day in April, it became your new favorite.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

The sun had been shining for two days straight. Bright, unobstructed by a single cloud, bathing everything in gold. It filtered through the blinds of your window, casting a delicate pattern of light on Chan’s face and creating quite possibly the most breathtaking view you’d ever seen. And you were warm. Warm against each other.

His curls were free, messy, tousled as you combed through them. You relished in every ringlet dancing between your fingers, in each content sound he let slip when your nails grazed his scalp. You brushed his bangs back, revealing his face to you in full—droopy eyes, big, adorable nose, soft cheeks, faintly freckled skin, every feature illuminated with nowhere to hide—then allowed them to fall into his eyes once more. The dark locks moved as one, a fluffy unit. He wasn’t taking care of them properly. You wanted to wash them again, give them the treatment they deserved.

Chan watched you the entire time you played with his hair, curious, mesmerized. Every flop of his curls against his forehead made him giggle, and so, you did it again and again. You couldn’t help it. After five days without him, without that sweet, harmonious sound, you could listen to him laugh for hours on end and still yearn for more.

But his lips were getting poutier with every card of your fingers, his thighs were shifting beneath you more and more. Impatient, even if he didn’t say it out loud. He didn’t have to say a thing for you to hear him willing you to do it, begging you to do it. So, you leaned in and kissed him.

He sighed into it, just like he always did. But it was higher in pitch this time, involuntary, a neediness he typically tried to suppress until later down the line when it grew into something unbearable. He was already so vocal, so responsive, but today, he needed you more than ever. Every gap, every crevice between your bodies, he needed filled with you.

His lips consumed your senses, plush and plump and warm. They moved against yours seamlessly, encasing you in his softness, matching your rhythm, every part and pucker. So attentive, even through his haze of longing. It was familiar, the most natural thing in the world, yet still something you’d never get used to—something you never wanted to get used to. How his lips chased yours so insatiably, how they warmed you to your very core.

You were both breathless when you broke apart. That was nothing new either, you would kiss each other until your lungs cried out and then some. With the way Chan hardly pulled back, mouth ghosting just a centimeter away as you panted lightly in unison, you might’ve thought he needed to kiss you more than he needed oxygen. You took his lower lip between your teeth, nibbling delicately just to get a taste of him while the two of you caught your breath.

“Missed you,” he whimpered. “God, I missed you.”

Your chest ached.

“I know, baby.”

Giving his bottom lip a light tug, you released it. You could tell his head was starting to go fuzzy, it was far more important for you to speak clearly. You rested your hand on his curls again, trying to keep yourself composed for his sake—even if your body was screaming for you to take him back and take him back now. “I know. I missed you, too.”

“Don’t leave me, please?” For once, a selfish request.

He pecked the corner of your mouth as he said it, then your jaw, growing less controlled the further down he moved. He was getting lost in you, he wanted to lose himself in you and never find his way out again.

“Never,” you assured him.

“Promise?”

He nuzzled his nose into your neck, lips pressing urgent kisses to every spot of flesh they touched. Gentle and intense, hot and wet. They cooled your skin and set it ablaze, all at once.

You’d gone five days without each other before—even longer, on particularly hectic weeks—but it had never been anything like this. After the emptiness that came in your time apart, the holes that had been left behind where you’d ripped yourself away from him, you wanted every kiss absorbed into your skin, filling them up one by one. You found yourself wondering, for what was neither the first nor the last time, how you’d ever managed to trick yourself into thinking you could be without him. You couldn’t even take him in moderation.

“I promise,” you murmured. “I'm not going anywhere, I promise.”

Chan whined, opening his mouth against the edge of your collarbone, sucking, tongue flickering lightly against it. You allowed him to, petting his head, humming sweetly to him as he covered every inch he roamed with that irresistible heat.

His restlessness beneath you grew more obvious—squirming. He ran his hands up and down your sides, feeling and grabbing and holding onto you like you might disappear if he didn’t. His usual hesitance to touch was nowhere to be found today, far overpowered by his hunger for you. You adjusted your position in his lap, and the beginnings of his desire brushed against your thigh, adorably transparent as always. It made your own self-control slip just a bit. Suddenly, his clothes were forming far too thick of a barrier between you and him for your liking.

You pulled gently at his hair, catching his attention enough for him to lift his head from your neck. His lips were already swelling, deepening from that pretty pink shade into something even more addictive. His eyes were dark, dilated, and so hopeful, like he didn’t already know where this was going. Like he had no idea that you craved him every bit as much as he craved you.

“It’s getting warm, huh, Channie?”

“Mhm.” He rested his cheek against your palm. “You’re so warm.”

“Let’s get you out of this, then.” You reached down to dip your fingers under the hem of his sweater. Reluctant to let go for even a moment, Chan kept his hands close to you, wiggling around as best as he could to help you slip the garment off. He blinked his eyes open once you’d pulled it over his head, catching a glimpse of his reflection in your dresser mirror, directly across from where the two of you sat tangled up in each other. It made his stomach drop a bit. Hair unkempt, eyes sunken, face puffy from what was a concerning lack of rest over the past week, even by his standards.

His gaze averted, flickering right back to you the instant he took in his appearance. Brief as the action was, it wasn’t lost on you, twisting your emotions and resurfacing an idea in your mind—one that had been brewing ever since the day of the showcase, where Chan had avoided looking into the bathroom mirror like his life depended on it.

You cupped his cheeks, pushing them together just enough for his lips to pucker.

“You’re glowing, Channie,” you marveled. “You’re so beautiful.”

He furrowed his brows. “I’m not.”

You pressed your thumbs into his skin, chiding. “The light’s hitting your face so perfectly. You look like an angel.”

Chan’s breath quickened, another deflection building in his throat. You slid your hands down from his face, allowing the golden rays of the sun to fully illuminate him, just as they illuminated the moon.

“I…” he chuckled. “Th-thank you, but I’m a mess.”

You frowned, placing your hands over his. Panic struck when you urged him to unlatch his fingers from your hips, you could tell by the way he gripped you just a bit tighter. It was another pang to your chest. Somewhere in the depths of his mind, that reflex had been ingrained. But you weren’t going to leave him, not even for a second. You kept your hands firmly rested on his shoulders as you hoisted yourself off his lap and settled down right behind him on the mattress. Comforting him with your touch, reminding him that you were there.

You peered into the mirror from over Chan’s shoulder, met with the gorgeous sight of his bare upper half and, unsurprisingly, his head ducked in embarrassment. A mop of dark curls shielding him from himself.

“You should try looking at yourself through my eyes,” you suggested. “You might like what you see.”

He glanced up to meet your stare in the mirror, stubbornly set on ignoring his own figure. You dragged your hands along his tense shoulders, feeling up the warm expanse of skin, the curves of his muscles—taut, yet tender.

“Rather look at you,” he said softly.

Affection swelled inside you, but you were determined to maintain your resolve, even when faced with an opponent as formidable as Chan’s deep-seated inhibitions.

“Why?” You faked a pout. “You’ve already got such a pretty view right here.”

You lowered yourself to brush your lips against his neck, almost completely out of sight. He all but jolted as you pressed an open-mouthed kiss right below his jawline, just as reactive as your first night together. Just as honest and open and just as painfully cute. Your hand slipped over his shoulder to take hold of his chin, tilting it up, exposing his throat fully to you and encouraging him to look at himself.

“You’re a gorgeous boy, Channie.” Your words melted right into his ear. “Everyone can see it.”

You pressed another kiss to the juncture of his shoulder and neck—his weak spot. With how sensitive he was, every part of his body may as well have been his weak spot, but the sound he let out as you grazed your teeth over it was like no other. Sweet and pleading in the back of his throat. It spiked in volume when you closed your mouth over the patch of skin, unconcerned this time over whether or not the mark would show. He wanted it to. And, selfishly, so did you.

“I-I don’t see it,” he stuttered at last. “I can’t.”

Your tsk of disapproval was met with another shaky sigh as you ran your tongue over the fresh lovebite. It soothed his burning skin, fogged up any remaining space in his head. You took a moment to admire the blooming red ring before gliding your lips over to a new spot to sully. He was yours, even untouched, but you wanted to leave traces of yourself everywhere, to make him a part of you in every sense.

“Look at yourself, baby,” you ordered gently.

His Adam's apple bobbed under your mouth, swallowing down his misgivings and finding the courage to comply. Before he even locked eyes with himself in the mirror, his ears were already flushing at their tips.

“There we go. Good boy.”

The praise eased his mind a bit, but you could still feel his heartbeat racing under your kisses, pulsing beneath your traveling fingers. All simply because of the sight of himself—a sight you wanted engraved permanently into your memories, just as badly as he wanted it removed from his.

“Look at all these muscles. So big and strong.” You flattened your palms against his broad shoulders, trailing slowly, appreciatively, down to his biceps. Arms you used to dream about having bulge beneath your hands. Arms you had at your mercy, even in all their strength. Because it was a strength used solely to protect others, never to harm.

You wrapped your fingers around the defined muscles, too large to even close your grip entirely around. They flexed under your touch—a detail you found adorable, strangely enough.

“D-do you…” Chan licked his lips. “D’you like them?”

You smiled against his skin. Such an endearingly Chan question. Setting himself up for a response that he wouldn’t be able to handle; a response that was sure to set his face on fire and put a stammer in his speech.

“I might like them too much,” you admitted. “So gorgeous to look at. So irresistible to touch. So cute when I hold them down,” you mumbled the compliments between each kiss you peppered along his arm veins, protruding from his nervous hold on the sheets. “So safe and reliable. So strong, but so weak for me.”

Chan’s reaction didn’t disappoint, cheeks heating up instantly to match the burn of his ears, dimples making a timid appearance. Anything he attempted to say was lost in the shy, breathless laugh he sputtered out. You knew right about now that he was wishing he had some kind of cap, beanie—anything to pull over his face and hide away. To hear your doting words without having to face himself. Maybe then, he’d believe them.

“You work so hard, don’t you, Channie?” you cooed. “Such a strong, beautiful body for a strong, beautiful boy.”

“A-ah…please.” Chan fought back the impulse to cross his arms over his torso, solely because he didn’t want to lose the feeling of your mouth ravishing them, appreciating every curve. Instead, he squeezed his eyes closed, too flustered to bear. Your hands found his chest without warning, cupping his pecs and making him squeak. He sank his teeth into his bottom lip, a split second too late in trying to mask the pitiful noise.

“You have no idea what you do to me.” You dug your nails delicately into his chest, just enough to make him shudder. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”

To that, he didn’t object. “Yours, ‘m all yours.” It was eager, immediate, accompanied by a tilt of his head. Urging you to make it known, to leave more marks of yourself all over his neck until it belonged just as much to you as it did him.

“All mine.” You rolled his nipples delicately between your fingers, earning a broken whimper that made heat pool in your stomach. “My pretty boy.”

Chan jerked forward, every intoxicating word of praise, every drop of your attention making his arousal skyrocket. With his eyes still shut tight, all his other senses were on high alert. The serene sound of your voice reverberated all around him, the deliberate care of your touch sent tremors up his spine. You roamed further down his body, fingertips dancing over his lean abdomen, tracing the outlines of his muscles. His stomach clenched as you did; exhilarated, rising and falling with each rapid breath. He felt so vulnerable—all his pleasure, all his comfort, all his worth in the palm of your hand. More exposed than ever, yet somehow, safer than ever. He could stay blind through it all and trust you to guide him to the other side.

“Open your eyes for me, baby.”

He pressed his lips together, protest cut short when you inched dangerously close to where he needed you most.

“There,” he gasped out. “There, please.”

Mischievously, you pinched the skin right above his waistband, satisfaction rushing through you when he throbbed in the confines of his sweatpants. “Where?” you questioned, deceptively innocent. “You have to look and see.”

You drifted further down, skimming the softness of his hips and stroking his tensed thigh. “Here?”

“No,” he huffed, face scrunching in frustration. “Please, ‘s too embarrassing.”

Your hum was full of sympathy, but your hand said otherwise, moving along his inner thigh and giving it a light squeeze. “How about here?”

You knew what was coming by now. So, you snaked your legs around his waist from behind, prying his thighs apart before they could clamp together reflexively. The added contact only made Chan’s composure weaken further, a low groan spilling out of him. Practically every part of your body was pressed against his—head tucked into his neck, chest rubbing against his back, hands grasping him wherever they slid, thighs resting on his—but it wasn’t enough. He needed more before he crumbled completely against you. Or, rather, he needed more to crumble completely against you.

His eyes snapped open at last, hazy, disoriented. He blinked a few times to readjust his vision, taking in the view before him. His puffed, rosy cheeks, his neck, painted with deep, crimson marks, his arms and torso, lined with the faint drag of your nails. Every part of himself that he chose to focus on was evidence of you on his body.

“Beautiful,” you said firmly.

“Ah…th-thank you.”

His reflection peered back at him, nowhere to hide. But with it, he found his other reflection, one he could admire so wholeheartedly, one he could never run out of things to love about. When at your side, maybe he didn’t look so bad.

Your lips were by his ear again, he felt your breath fanning softly next to it, saw your mouth opening unexpectedly close to his piercing—so close that he thought you may take it between your teeth again. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to contain himself if you did.

“Where do you want me to touch you, Channie?” you whispered.

His stare dropped to your hand, more than ready for any excuse to redirect his attention from himself. You rubbed gentle circles into his thighs, traveling upwards at an agonizingly slow place. Chan sucked in through his teeth, a fresh wave of embarrassment passing over him when his dick twitched again, as if it was crying out the answer for him.

“My baby’s so shy,” you remarked playfully. “But your body isn't.”

He squirmed between your legs with a sound of pure helplessness, too worked up to handle your teasing properly—not that he ever really handled it well, in the first place.

“P-please, need you so bad.”

You softened. “I’m here.”

His eyes followed your movements in a glimmer of hope, fixated on your hand like a puppy would with its favorite treat. When you came to brush over his bulge at last, his hips shot forward, pressing into your palm in a way that made your stomach flutter, and his twist with pleasure. He didn’t even have the chance to feel humiliated about it, not when you finally curled your fingers around him like he’d been longing for so intently, so fiercely that even thinking straight had become a challenge for him.

“Is this it?” you asked sweetly.

“Mmph, yes. There, please.”

You gave him a squeeze, feeling up the shape of his length through his sweatpants. So hard without a single touch to it, more than ready for you—desperate for you. It made the ache between your own legs take over in full. Restraint slipping, you dipped your fingers below his waistband to tug his sweatpants off. Chan reacted immediately, scrambling to raise himself from the mattress just enough for you to slide them down along with his underwear. You couldn’t even find the patience in you to remove the garments entirely, instead letting them rest halfway down his legs.

Chan’s gaze flickered back to you in the mirror, just in time to catch the way your eyes gleamed at the sight of his bare body. Length glistening with precum, pressed and dripping against his stomach. Milky thighs, dotted with delicate moles you could kiss endlessly. But you wanted to leave a different kind of mark on them, today. You ran your hands along his flesh—gentle, pacifying—then dragged your nails back up all at once, raking his skin and leaving a trail of pale lines that quickly deepened in shade. Chan inhaled sharply, throwing his head back against your shoulder, muscles constricting under your fingers.

“Pretty little thing,” you crooned. “You’re unreal.”

There was no time for him to recover—not from the delicious sting on his thighs, not from your doting words—before you took his cock into your hold at last. It sent a ripple of heat all throughout his body, almost enough to make him unravel right then and there.

You gave him a few careful pumps, delighted by the sheer amount of wetness that had dribbled from his tip, allowing you to move with ease. Using your free hand, you nudged his head from your shoulder to direct him back to the mirror. Despite knowing full well that the visual he’d be met with would turn his brain to mush, he obeyed. He would do anything you so much as suggested in that moment.

“You’re just like that moon you love so much,” you murmured. “You know that, Channie?”

It pierced through the lust occupying his thoughts, pulling him out from his haze just enough to string together a feeble response. “What—ah. What d’you mean?”

He tried not to let the sight of your fingers, sticky with his arousal, gliding up and down his most intimate spot, twisting and teasing in all the right ways like you knew his body better than he did, distract him from what you said next. If there was anything to focus on, it was you.

“The moon can only see itself reflected in the water.” You swirled your thumb along his slit, using your other hand to run the pads of your fingers tenderly along his cheek. The combination was enough to make him dizzy. So much love, so much pleasure. He didn’t know how to handle it. He would never know how to handle it. “It doesn’t see its own beauty or light. Just the way it gets distorted by the ripples all around it.”

Before he could even fully process the comparison, Chan’s eyes began to water. This time, you knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was happiness imbued in those tears. A happiness the both of you still needed adjusting to.

“So, look at yourself clearly, now,” you encouraged, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Look at your reflection when it isn’t broken.”

It may have been too much for him at once; such adoration amidst everything else he was experiencing. The stimulation to every last one of his nerve endings, the bliss consuming his body and mind, robbing him of any coherent thought. But you needed to say it just as much as he needed to hear it. You wanted all the pleasure, all the love he felt in that moment to be associated with himself.

“O-oh, wow,” he choked out. “I…I don’t…”

I don’t deserve this. You could hear it on the tip of his tongue, clear as day. But he was too awestruck to protest, too awestruck to even speak. You felt a tinge of protectiveness—he was so far gone.

“D-dunno what to s-say,” he stammered. You knew it was taking every ounce of his strength not to bury his face into the crook of your neck, to let himself go completely and forget about anything that wasn’t you.

“It’s okay, Channie. You don’t have to say anything. Just look.”

You studied him in the mirror, nearly melting when you noticed him blinking the few, fragile droplets from his eyes—listening diligently to you, clearing his vision from any water that might distort it. He drank in his reflection in full, stiff, uneasy, but relaxing slightly between your legs when you pressed another kiss to his cheek.

“So pretty, every inch of you.” Your hand resumed its stroking, sliding down to the base of his length, cupping him gently. “Even prettier when you’re filling me up.”

“Oh my gosh,” he gasped, jerking in your grip. Even with the mirror there to guide him, he struggled to coordinate his hand movements, pawing aimlessly behind him to find some part of you to grab onto, some part of you to anchor himself with. “Please, please. Wanna feel you.”

“I know, baby boy,” you shushed him. “You’re dripping so much. Poor thing.”

You dragged your index finger along the underside of his cock one last time before pulling away with a light flick. Chan barely stopped himself from surging forward, chasing your hand like an instinct. That, coupled with the mewl he let out when he registered the sudden loss of your body heat around him, tugged at your heart just as much as it spiked your adrenaline. You made quick work of removing your clothes, well aware of his eyes, wide as moons, watching you undress through the mirror, waiting for you to return to him. Keen, yearning, but obedient above all else.

He reached for you the instant you settled back in his lap, hovering over your waist for just a second before ultimately latching on, skin on skin, a whole new layer of heat. You took his length back into your grasp, turning your body so that you were both facing your dresser mirror. You could hear Chan’s breathing pick up behind you, feel his chest expanding against your back.

“See that, Channie?” You dragged the head of his dick along your folds, coating it with your own wetness. “Just looking at you gets me like this.”

If all you’d said wasn’t enough, maybe the physical proof of his effects on you would help do the trick. A sweet, desperate vocalization, so rife with need that you could practically taste it, was all he could manage. It morphed into a moan as you sank down on him all at once—loud, absolutely shameless. You would never think it came from the boy who couldn’t even catch a glimpse of himself without being reduced to a flustered wreck. Just as your heat engulfed him, his engulfed you. It came more intensely than ever before, more staggering than even your first time together, bolting through your veins and making you suppress a gasp. You clenched around his cock, relishing in the feeling of him pressed so snugly inside you, as close as physically possible. So comforting in its familiarity, so exhilarating in its return. It was something you could only describe as relief, relief in the warmth, the fullness, the completion you brought to each other.

Chan’s head fell forward with a whimper, chin resting against your shoulder, clinging to you so tightly that it was difficult to move. You weren’t even sure if he was aware of it, a subconscious desire to stay buried inside you, not wanting to lose the security of your walls wrapped around him for even a second.

“Missed you so much,” he slurred into your skin. “W-wanna stay like this forever.”

You reached back to cradle his head, running your fingers through his hair. “I missed you too, angel. Missed the way you fill me up so perfectly.”

You lifted yourself until just the head of his cock was left pulsing inside you. When you noticed Chan’s blissed out expression in the mirror—eyes fluttered shut, lips swollen against your shoulder, eyebrows knitted together—a golden opportunity presented itself. It took him a second or two to realize that you weren’t sliding back down, another soft plea rumbling in his throat, vibrating into your skin. You gave his scalp an affectionate scratch, prompting him to look. This time, he listened without question, driven solely by the need to feel your wet heat around him again.

“Good boy.” You took him back inside immediately, not keen on being apart for much longer, either. He gritted his teeth as you did, trying his best to keep his gaze leveled with his reflection for you, for your satisfaction, for your approval. But nothing could’ve prepared him for what came out of your mouth next.

“See how perfect you look when you’re inside me, Channie? See all the pretty faces you make? My pretty baby, feeling so good. Making me feel so good.”

At that, the precious little that had remained of Chan’s composure fizzled out completely. His hands flew up to cover his face, hot with shame, burning with arousal. The filthy sight of him pushing in and out of you, the wet sounds filling his ears, the teasing lilt of your voice. It was all too much. He shoved his nose into his palms, letting out a cute, mortified wail that echoed throughout the bedroom, mixing with your breathless giggles.

Even as you continued riding him, he stayed hidden behind the safety net of his fingers, shyness turned back up to full blast with no signs of disappearing. It only added to the pressure building up inside your abdomen to see him so overwhelmed, each muffled grunt and soft whimper of his spurring you on. Your words from earlier rang truer than ever—he was so weak for you.

You allowed him to stay that way for the sake of his sanity, petting his head with a gentleness that contrasted the steady pace of your bouncing. It wasn’t until you felt his cock begin to jerk inside you that he pulled his hands away from his face with a choked noise, reaching out for you once more.

“Can’t take it—mmph—‘m getting close! ‘M s-sorry!”

His fingers dug deep into your flesh, igniting heat at every point of contact. You basked in the feeling for as long as you could, then halted your movements altogether, pulling off of him in one fell swoop. The loss made both of your bodies cry out in protest. Chan hiccuped pathetically, mouth falling open, confused blinks reflecting in the mirror when your softness, your warmth, escaped him without warning.

He trembled underneath you, tugging at your waist as he tried to get a handle on his voice. With care, you turned in his lap to come face to face with him again, moving slowly enough as not to break his hold on you, not even for a moment.

“Did I…” he panted. “Did I do something wrong?”

You brushed your thumb over his forehead, wiping away the beads of sweat that had begun to accumulate. “No, baby. You’re doing so well for me,” you assured him. “But you wanna finish together, don’t you?”

It was almost funny, in a sense, how the way Chan’s face lit up—how his features flooded with pure delight—made your heart flutter more than anything else. More than any irresistible sound he let out, more than any way he let you use his body to your heart’s content. You were just as captivated, just as endeared, just as hopelessly taken with him as that night in May, walking home alongside him under the moonlight and knowing your fate was sealed.

“Y-yeah, together. Together, please.” He leaned forward, nose finding your neck, taking in your scent. “Can we stay like this? Wanna see you.”

Your hand found his length again, wrapping just tight enough around it to make him jolt. “Hm…you can see me in the mirror though, can’t you?”

“Please,” he repeated, pouty lips brushing against your skin. “Only wanna see you. Need you.”

You relented. Regardless of how badly you wanted to get the message across to him, regardless of how addictive you found the sight of him on display in ways you’d never seen before, you knew he’d just about reached his limit. And, well, maybe you needed him too. Needed to watch him fall apart right before your very eyes, needed to have every bit of your skin pressed against his, needed to kiss him when it all became too much for his foggy mind.

“You’re so cute. I’ve got you, baby.” You tilted his chin up with your free hand, half-lidded doe eyes finding yours. Knowing him, the eye contact wouldn’t last long before he was ducking away again. So, you took advantage of it, realigning him with you and watching his features flood with pleasure as you sank down on him once more. He had to stop himself from bucking up into you, body stiffening with effort, a breathy, grateful moan, nothing short of angelic, slipping past his lips.

“You’ve gotta hold on for a bit, alright?” You gave his shoulders a squeeze. “Let me know when you’re close. Can you do that for me, Channie?”

His arms wrapped around you in full, no longer content with just his hands on your waist. “Mhm.” He barely mustered up a nod, pulling himself closer to you in a way that burrowed his cock impossibly deeper inside. “Promise. W-wanna make you feel good, too. Wanna be a good boy for you.”

“My good boy,” you cooed. “See how well you fit inside me? See how good you make me feel?” You clenched around him as you dragged yourself up his length, snapping back down with a delicious speed. “You were made for me.”

“M-made for you,” he agreed, head falling forward to nestle into your chest. “Ah—fuck! You’re so warm. Feels s-so good.”

You dug your nails into his muscles, using your grip on him for leverage as you began working your way up to a pace even more vigorous than before. Immediately, the new angle took a toll on Chan. It allowed the head of his length to rub directly against your sweet spot with each rock of your hips, making the both of you shudder. You could feel his mouth fall open against you to let out an especially sharp cry, nibbling mindlessly at your flesh, matching your rhythm.

“Y-you’re mine, too, right? Gonna stay with me?” he babbled into your skin. “Please, tell me you’ll stay. I’ll be good for you. P-please.”

The coil in your chest twisted just as tight as the one in your abdomen. You knew his thoughts were muddled, ridding him of any filter and making him ramble in the heat of the moment. But you also knew it stemmed from a very real fear, one that you would never feed into again.

“You’re already so good for me, Channie. You’re perfect. My perfect boy,” you spoke as steadily as your erratic movements and shaky breath would allow, ensuring that each reassurance found him. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? I’m here ‘cause I love you.”

Chan whined, ringing out loud and clear even through the softness of your chest. “Love you. I love you so much.” He nuzzled further into you, strengthening his hold around you, hands pawing at your sides. The words seemed to have opened the floodgates within him, like he’d been waiting to hear them—the catalyst for him to lose himself in you completely. “Love you, love you, love you. ‘M almost th-there.”

This time, there was a short delay before you could bring yourself to stop. You didn’t want to let go of him again, no amount of time would be tolerable enough. So, you stayed perfectly still, indulging selfishly in the feeling of him inside you without snapping the final thread just yet. Chan lifted his head, disoriented, biting down on his bottom lip to fight back a pathetic groan as his climax was denied once more. You could feel his thighs quivering under yours, his arms flexing around you, his cock twitching wildly against your walls. Every bit of his energy was being expended to hold himself together, to endure it however many times you saw fit.

“You’re doing so well, baby boy. Lasting so long for me.” You twirled a lock of his damp curls around your finger, hoping to keep him grounded enough to hang on just a bit more.

“Y-yeah? ‘M doing okay?” He brushed his nose against yours, a silent plea that you understood all too well by now. “Making you feel good?”

“So good, Channie. I’m getting close, too.” You closed the gap between you and him before his wordless request became another whine, taking his swollen lips between yours. They were hot, pillowy, unbelievably wet. You tried your best not to flutter around him, but it was impossible not to when he was humming so eagerly into your mouth, kissing without an ounce of self-control left in his system. His movements were sloppy, uncoordinated, but each messy slide of his lips sent another jolt through your senses. The hug he’d enveloped you in loosened at last, hands wandering obsessively over your body until he found your chest. He paused for a moment, mumbling out something that made drool drip from the corner of his mouth.

“Mmph, c-can I? Wanna touch, please.”

Even now, he was clinging to the last few shreds of his rationality for you, thinking of you above all else when the promise of his climax was dangling right in front of his face. It took the arousal coursing through your veins to a whole new degree, so intensely that you had to stop yourself from sinking your teeth into his lips out of raw affection.

“Go ahead, baby,” you murmured.

Chan cupped the soft flesh in an instant, sighing like he was slipping into a dream. His kisses became near-frantic, so drunk on you that he had trouble staying confined to just your lips, landing on the corner of your mouth, all over your cheeks, pecking and sucking any spot he could. Despite that, his hands were gentle, kneading at your flesh in a delicate back and forth pattern that calmed him and kindled a fresh warmth in your body. He was doing so well for you, trying his absolute best for you. You wanted to give him everything. You wanted to take his heart that he offered up to you so willingly, and give him yours in return.

“Ready to keep going, Channie? Can you take it?”

“Y-yeah. Yes, please,” he breathed. “Gonna do it for you. I’ll do anything.”

“My sweet boy.” You cupped his cheeks, steadying his clumsy kisses, but holding him just close enough to keep him content. He hissed softly as you began moving again, rolling your hips down so that his length grinded against your walls, stimulating every nerve-ending inside you. The heat building between your bodies became much harder to ignore, filling the air around you and seeping into your skin. It was heavy, thick, but it made you feel lighter than ever. Your high was drawing near, and, judging by the way Chan’s hips stuttered with less and less restraint, you knew he wouldn’t be able to hold back for much longer either.

The pads of his fingers dug into your breasts just as he let out a warning moan. “Oh God, ‘m sorry. Please, don’t wanna finish without you. So—ngh—close.”

You grinded down against him, spine tingling when Chan yelped in response, so sharp it almost sounded like he was in pain. “Mm, just a little more, baby boy. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

“I-I…oh, please,” he swallowed hard, eyebrows scrunching together as you dragged yourself all the way up his length, mind-numbingly slow. “Yeah, I can do it. I’ll be g-good.”

Your hands traveled up to his hair, tangling in his curls and pulling at them just hard enough to make goosebumps rise at his nape. “Channie listens so well,” you purred. “You were made to please, hm? Good boy, good boy.”

If your honeyed praises weren’t enough to push him alarmingly close to the edge, the way you squeezed around him as you sank back down, wrapping him in your heat all the way to his base surely was. Chan surged forward with a sob, head falling into your shoulder, fingers grasping at you helplessly.

“Your good boy,” he whimpered. “Please, please, ‘m not gonna l-last.”

You cradled the back of his head. “It’s too much, huh angel?” you pouted. “You can let it all out, now.”

“Together?” You could hear the strain in his voice, mere seconds away from losing it completely. “Together—ah—right?”

“Together.”

At that, you gave one last sloppy glide along his length, snapping the tension in both of you at once. Chan cried out, teeth grazing against your shoulder, hips surging up to push as far into you as your bodies would allow. A delicious heat seared through your senses, only amplified by the flood of his release coating your insides, stronger than ever from how long he’d been holding back. You tried to keep your own sounds under control, far more entranced by the ones slipping from his trembling lips. Mewls of your name, slurring out how much he loved you, chanting his gratitude like a mantra as you guided him through your shared high.

Minutes or hours could’ve passed and you wouldn’t have known the difference—you wouldn’t have minded either way. Eventually, the shivers in Chan’s body faded out, his panting evened into softer, more peaceful breaths. When he finally found it in him to pull his head from the comfort of your neck, droplets had begun to form in his eyes again. Not enough to spill down his cheeks quite yet, just enough to glaze his pupils over with happy tears, just enough to make them shine.

Your fingers danced absentmindedly in his hair, serving as a different pleasure from the kind that had just rocked your bodies. “You did so well for me, Channie. I’m proud of you.”

He blinked up at you. Slow, lazy, a dreamy smile tugging at his lips. “You’re s’ beautiful.”

“Sweet baby,” you murmured. “I hope you think the same when you see yourself.”

Anything he planned to say trailed off when you reached down for his hand, bringing it up to your lips. He was still buried deep inside you, hypersensitive to every little movement, every little touch, but he did his best not to squirm as you pressed kisses to his fingertips, paying extra attention to the fading cut on his thumb. The pain was long gone, now. Still, it made a few glistening tears trickle out delicately. You kissed them away, too.

“You’re still my favorite reflection.”

Shy, barely audible, but spoken with all the sincerity in the world. Butterflies erupted in your stomach. It was a start, at least. Maybe the parts of yourselves that you loved in each other, you could eventually come to love in yourselves.

“Can we—?”

“Stay like this?” you finished for him, a smile creeping up on your lips. “Yeah, we can.”

He bumped his forehead against yours, letting out an exhausted giggle, eyes crinkling and dimples flashing. He was glazed with sweat, skin sticky, damp curls pressed to his forehead, but he shone with every ray of light that slipped through your blinds.

The urge to check on him, to fuss over him, to care for him, still nagged at your mind. That was something that would never change. You wanted to clean him up, wash away the soreness and soothe the marks all over his body. But he didn’t need any of that right now. He just needed you. That was it. From day one, it had been as simple as that. You didn’t need to do anything. You didn’t need to prove anything. You just needed each other. Maybe, you could stay wrapped up in the mess you’d left on each other’s bodies for a while—bask in it, even.

Chan’s innocent nuzzles inevitably led to another kiss. Soft, but just as hungry for you, just as desperate to stay immersed in this moment. You shifted slightly on his lap, making your heart jump and making him jolt against you. The poorly concealed sound that built up in his throat might’ve made you giggle if you didn’t need him just as much. No more limits. No more restraint. You didn’t have to worry about taking him in moderation.

You wanted each other endlessly. You fell into each other again and again.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

A sudden buzz against your nightstand cut through the tranquil rhythm of breath that filled your bedroom, pulling you from the haze of sleep that had been pricking at your mind’s edges. It was a brief, low vibration, but still loud enough for you to worry that it may wake the boy in your arms. For once, you allowed yourself to be unavailable, not daring to disturb his peace for even a moment to roll over and read the notification. You already had a good idea of who it might be, anyway: Changbin, triple checking what time you’d all be meeting up for jjajangmyeon on Friday. The thought alone made fondness bubble up inside you, lips curling into a private smile. After four years of tardiness, absences, and missed deadlines throughout his academic career, this was the one thing he was determined to be on time for.

Graduation was two days away. You and Changbin’s class ceremony would take place in the early morning, while Chan’s was scheduled for later that same night. Timed seamlessly with the rise of the sun and the moon. The finish line that you’d been terrified of for so long was a mere few steps away, but when viewed up close, it wasn’t quite so daunting anymore. Even if the path you walked next was still unfamiliar, uncarved by anyone before you to clear the way, you knew who you’d be walking it with, and you knew where it would lead you. You’d walk side by side with Chan, towards something better.

His family had flown in from Australia earlier in the week to visit, to attend his ceremony—to celebrate him. An occasion that was just as precious to them even with the bitter memories that surrounded it, even in its delay, even if Chan had spent the past two years of his life convincing himself otherwise. He’d been a nervous wreck before leaving to meet with them when they first arrived, you could see it in every awkward shift of his feet, every subconscious rub of his neck, every unnecessary adjustment of his clothes. However much you’d tried to comfort him beforehand, however many grateful smiles he’d given you, you’d known that there was no real way to ease his apprehension. He hadn’t seen them in person for over a year, and, even prior to that, it’d been two years since he’d had an interaction with them that wasn’t engulfed in shame.

But when he’d returned, he had a smile that almost reached his eyes; hopeful. It hadn’t been perfect, everything wasn’t okay yet, but the seed had at least been planted for it to blossom one day. He’d missed them so much. It made your heart sing and ache at the same time. You only wished that he’d believed he deserved to see them before now—to stand in front of them as the son and brother that they loved, not as the collection of faults and disappointments he saw himself as.

Though, you supposed you weren’t exactly one to talk. Your family would be coming into the city on the day of your ceremony as well, a very blatant reminder that you had yet to visit your hometown again like you’d promised them over the summer.

You weren’t quite ready to return yet. But just like Chan, you would be, one day. And you would try again. Of all the things you’d come to learn in your time with him, the value of upholding a promise was undoubtedly the most important one. You weren’t going to run. You would try as many times as it took until your home felt like home again, until you remembered all the good times, until the memories laced in every crack and crevice didn’t add to the sting in your skin, but eased it.

You eyed Chan’s form through the darkness, nestled against you with his head buried in the softness of your chest—sound asleep, for once.

Your arm was still draped over his waist, lingering at the small of his back where you’d been rubbing as he drifted off. In turn, his muscular arm was wrapped securely around you. Holding each other, protecting each other. An endless cycle of drawing strength from one another without growing any weaker in the process. You could give him everything, and not lose a single drop of yourself.

For the first time, you could hold someone in your arms without that underlying sense of dread spreading its roots in your mind. For the first time, your heart was still. A calm and clear surface of a lake, one that you hoped could reflect Chan’s light in its truest, most unbroken form.

You were no longer held together by a butterfly bandage, an ill-fitted adhesive, forcibly closing your wounds without giving them the chance to heal properly. At last, you were stitched up. Stitched up by the very same thread of fate that had brought you and Chan together.

You didn’t have to ask to know that he felt the same. You could feel his emotions like they were your own, after all.

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ahgasegotarmy116 · 1 month

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Just Take It | Part Three | Jungkook's Point of View

Summary: Jungkook is losing his grip and con't seem to get you out of his head, little does he know he's all you've been able to think about too. Pairing: Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap) Word Count: 3.5k~ (Damn this was supposed to be a short one lmao) Read Part 3 from oc's pov first! Warnings: Smuuuuttt, Explicit Language and a crap ton of pet names (Mirror of the dialogue from part 3) a/n: So I got this request and I figured it would be fun to write an alternate chapter in Jungkook's pov so send in asks if you would like to see more of these hehe Drabble requested by an anon 💜

After coming home from the gym I take my time getting into the shower, making sure I have something planned for dinner when she comes home.

"Shit" I mumble, all these fucking hormones have been driving me wild these days. What am I a teenager? Just the thought of her at this point drives me mad. The fact that she comes home to me night after night and fills my whole house with her scent.

I don't know how I've managed to hold myself back for this long. After checking things out down here I go upstairs and start the shower and let it run for a while, waiting for it to warm up.

Taking a good look in the mirror I take note of my dilated pupils. I close my eyes and take deep breaths, trying to ground myself but nothing seems to be working. If anything it's getting worse.

I clench my jaw as I feel myself start to get hard just by the thought of her tired little body coming home after a long day at work, so ready to rest and relax with me for the night.

Fuck I wish I could do something to help the both of us relax.

She was always a shy girl around me, so innocent and kind and beautiful and "Fuck" I curse at the feeling of my dick rubbing my against my boxers and I know I'm done for. Looking down I see the obvious tent that's slowly growing under my sweats and I know I'm gonna need to take care of it.

Stripping out of my clothes I walk into the shower and let the water run down my back, my hand pressed up against the wall as I look down at my dick that's begging to be touched.

'I really shouldn't be doing this. I shouldn't be thinking about her like this, but I can't control myself. I wrap my hand around it, pumping it back and forth at a lazy pace, coaxing myself to get harder.

"Shit" I groan as I run my thumb over the head, collecting the pre cum that's already started to leak out. I take my time playing with just the tip, teasing myself and making my hips stutter from the need of more friction.

"Y/n" I call out quietly, loving how her name tastes on my tongue while I'm doing something so forbidden. I rub my pre cum up and down my shaft, making obscene noises that make me close my eyes, helping me imagine that it's her that here doing this to me.

Bucking my hips into my fist I rest my forehead against the wall, steadying myself and letting my hips thrust as hard as they want, chasing that delicious high I'm begging to chase. "Fuck yes Bunny just like that. Shit y/n, fuck" I groan, lost in the moment and not giving a fuck if anyone were to hear me.

She won't be home until later so fuck it.

Squeezing harder leaves me grunting and my hips falter, my fist now running up and down my cock, giving me so my pleasure it's almost too much. I let out a breathy moan, thinking about the image of her on her knees, with those innocent doe eyes playing with me and leaning how to please me.

"Fuck, wish I could have you in here y/n. My pretty little Bunny" I let out, a little louder than I would've like but who gives a fuck. All I care about is fantasizing about my naïve little girl asking to suck me off, eyes watering but begging me to teach her so she can make me feel good.

"Darling want you so so bad. Come choke on this cock, there you go, just like that Bun" I say, a trail of curses following as I feel myself getting closer to the edge. Her, hair, her eyes, her smile, those lips, those gorgeous lips that taunted me with pleas for me to take it. Take her and be her first.

"Shit" I curse, my hand having a mind of it's own as it picks up the pace, bringing me higher and higher until I tip over. Her name attached to a string of curses, dying to be able to praise her for how good she is to me. How good she would be for me.

Turning the shower water to cold I quickly wash my hair and body and try to erase the memory of what I just did. I know that I don't have the time to do it again and from the way I fucking came so hard I don't think I would be able to live it down if I let that happen again just from the memory of her alone.

Getting out of the shower and checking the time I'm grateful to see that I don't have to worry about having been too loud since there's still an hour or so before she's due back.

Even if she did hear me I wouldn't give a fuck. I know she knows that I'm attracted to her and oh what a conversation starter that would be....

~~~~~

Things were weird when she came home and dinner was even weirder. As I watch her head upstairs after saying goodnight I go over our various conversations today.

When she came home she didn't have her bags with her like she always does. She brings her purse and her laptop bag in every single day so the sight of her walking in without them could only mean one thing.

She definitely heard me in the shower today. Fuck, I know I said that I wouldn't care if she heard me but now after seeing the way she was acting tonight I can't help but wonder if I messed up.

She's a fucking virgin and she walks in today, exhausted from work and the first thing she hears is a grown man moaning and fantasizing about her in the shower.

I should've been more careful. Fuck I shouldn't have done it at all.

After going round and round and cursing at myself for scaring her off I decide it's time to head to bed. There's no use staying up if I'm just gonna stress out about how I fucked up. Not like I can go back and change things now.

~~~~~~

Tossing and turning is added to the act of scolding myself, the act of having gone to bed not making things any better like I had thought. In fact it's made things worse.

Fuck if I had no sense of self respect I would do it all over again but I can't. I need to make things right by her. I need to apologize.

Against my best efforts I'm not able to drift of to sleep in the slightest so I decide to get a glass of water downstairs and take a breather to hopefully aide in making these doubts find their way out but right when I open my door I hear noises coming from her room.

I slowly walk towards it, thinking that she might've left the TV on or something I stop in my tracks, the roles definitely having been reversed now as I hear her breathy moans, unlike me trying her best to stay quiet.

I wish she would get louder. I wish I could have her screaming and moaning my name so loud that even the neighbors can hear it.

"Jungkook please" are the words I had only dreamed of hearing from her, her melodic voice dripping with need and I can tell she's so desperate to cum. She sounds adorable, but I bet she'll start to get frustrated soon. Upset that her fingers are too small to do the job.

"Fuck!" I hear fall from her lips, making me want to fall to my knees.

I never knew she would have such a dirty mouth. I fucking wish I could watch her as she comes undone and as her whines get louder I decide to place my hand on the door knob and twist it open. One little peek won't do any harm.

With the way I'm planning on fighting for her she'll be showing me a lot more than just a small glance like this soon enough.

"Jungkook please" she begs again as I crack the door open. 'Fuck it I can't handle this' I think to myself and take in sight the sight in front of me. Her silhouette alone making me dizzy. The way she pinches her erect nipples and whines as she no doubt plays with her clit making me want to worship the ground she walks on.

"Please what Bunny?" I chance, watching the guilt of me catching her, no doubt scaring her beyond belief but I press on nonetheless. "M-mr. Jeon?" she stutters, the scare making her go back to using formalities again.

She's so fucking pretty.

"Come on Darling, you know better than that. Now what were you saying? Jungkook please? Please what Bun?" I say, slowly walking towards her, going around the bed to sit on the side closest to her and she pulls the sheet up to cover herself, scared and unsure of what to do.

"What would you like me to do for you baby?" I say when I finally sit down, the bed dipping under my weight and watching as she scoots over, not to get away from me but to make room which pleases me greatly.

"Look at how cute you are. Confident enough to moan my name while I'm sleeping just a few doors down but now that you've been caught you can't even say a word. But you sounded so pretty Darling. Can you say it again for me?" I taunt, chancing a kiss under her ear and when I feel all of her muscles relax at my touch I know I've got her.

"Come on Bunny, I know you know how to use your words" I whisper, my mouth practically on her ear garnering a shiver from her in response.

"P-please Jungkook" she chokes out, almost as if she was scared of the sound of her own voice. "Please what Darling?" I say, ghosting my lips all along her neck, breathing in that intoxicating scent I know so well but drowning in the intensity of it coming directly from the source.

The things I would do to ruin her right here, right now. But I need to be patient, need to bide my time and work for her. We might be rushing things now but neither of us can stand another moment of this game we've been playing.

"Please let me cum" she whines and I could climax alone from the look she's giving me. Her pink cheeks and the way her eyes are glossing over, seconds from shedding those beautiful crystal tears has me so mesmerized by her.

"Would you like me to help you cum Princess?" I say, pushing a stray strand of hair off her face but I notice that her tears have started to fall more freely and I get worried that I've misread this situation.

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to. I can walk right out of here and we can pretend that nothing ever happened" I say, reassuring her that this is all up to her. I'm here to take care of her, only if she'll let me.

"Please help me cum" she pleads, another tear falling on her cheek. If the words that just fell from her lips weren't as dirty as they were I would've wanted to hold her and tell her everything's gonna be okay. Instead I catch that glimmering tear that's fallen and caress her cheek, gauging her reactions before doing anything else.

"Lay down for me yeah?" I say, kissing her forehead and guiding her back down, wanting her to be as comfortable as possible. 'Fuck she's gorgeous' I say to myself as I study everything there is about her.

"Can I kiss you Bunny?" I ask her and she nods her head almost instantly, her enthusiasm beyond endearing to me. I lean down but stop just shy of her lips, reminding her what she needs to do for me to continue.

"Use your words Darling" I whisper, my lips just a breath away and when she tells me 'Yes' I can just feel the desperation hidden behind those words and I can't help but smile before kissing her, this time softly, as though if I were to do much more that she would break in my arms.

I fill it with longing, showing her how much I want this, want her.

Not long after I started kissing her does she start to squirm around, begging for more and I detach our lips, laughing against hers before kissing her again, taking away her chance to answer right away.

"Can I take this off?" I question, toying with the thin piece of fabric that's keeping me from her, already being able to see her hard nipples rubbing against the sheet. She nods and I get up just enough to pull it off completely, drinking in the sight of her laying bare for me.

As I take my time studying ever line and curve of her, committing it all the memory my eyes are brought to the sight of her pressing her thighs together and I can tell she's been aching to be touched like this for so long.

"You want me to touch you?" I ask, ghosting my fingers along her skin that's warm to the touch and I feel her shiver from the chill I no doubt caused her. She chokes out a 'Please' holding herself back from making too much noise and I can't help but smile at her efforts. I'm sure she knows though that that's the exact opposite of what I want from her but I let her be this time.

"Open your legs for me Princess" I say, gently guiding them apart with one hand while the other dances along her stomach, falling in love with her reaction from simple touches like this.

"Were you just using your fingers baby?" I ask, tracing along her torso and touching every inch of skin I dare to travel just yet. She nods and I can see how her chest is rising, breathing picking up no doubt from excitement and it takes everything in me to stifle back a smirk.

"Want me to use mine?" I tempt and she nods enthusiastically but I take my time. Tracing patterns on her inner thighs, I watch as she squirms until finally I run a finger through her damp folds, restraining myself from moaning at the feeling. She takes in a sharp breath at the sensation of my cold fingers playing with her and I smile at the reaction.

"Baby was all wet just thinking about me huh?" I taunt and she nods her head, being so honest with me, her eyes closed and getting lost in the feeling, a little shy though about admitting it.

"Can I ask you a question Darling?" I ask needing to know the answer, no matter how embarrassed she might be. She stutters out a 'Yes' when I start to circle my finger around her clit and I know I won't be able to get her voice out of my head.

"Did you hear me earlier today when I was in the shower?" I ask and her whole body stiffens for a second, her doe eyes wide with fright again and I let out a dry chuckle, getting all the information I need from that alone.

"I noticed that you didn't bring your bags in from your car like you normally do and when I was walking out of my room I saw that your door was open and your bags were already inside. Meaning that you were probably in the house before I first saw you. Isn't that right Princess?" I continue and when I push my fingers inside her her back arches and he moans out another 'Yes' lost in the feeling of being touched like this.

"Fuck, yes!" she moans out, louder than she has before and I know I've hit it just right. "You like that? You like it when I touch you like that?" I growl out. I can't stop myself, I need more of her so I quench my thirst by biting down on her collarbone, kissing and licking the skin making her arch up into me even more.

Trailing kisses down her chest I stop for a second, taking in the sight of her breast right in front of me and I glance up at her, asking for permission. "Yes Jungkook please" she groans and I push my fingers in further, dragging hard against her walls as I take one of her nipples into my mouth. Wanting to hear more from her and knowing just how to get it.

Her moans fall more freely and I can't helps but increase the pressure. "You make such pretty noises Darling" I praise, the sound of her voice a beautiful sinful melody. Switching over to the other nipple after I take my time savoring the first one, licking it one more time, smiling at the sight of leaving it puffy and wet, evidence of how much I've been dying to taste her.

I do the same with the other one as she clenches around my fingers, making me take note of another thing she likes.

"Does baby like getting praised? Do you like it when I tell you how pretty you look while you're under me?" I taunt and receive another clench in return, solidifying what I already knew and I can tell by the way her walls start to flutter around my fingers that she's already close.

She moans and mewls and babbles out the pretties sounds none of them making any more sense than the other. All I can focus on is the way she says my name over and over in the midst of the confusion and I can't wait for the day I have her screaming my name.

I watch as she loses herself, not even realizing that she's started to fuck herself on my fingers, riding them all on her own. I can't wait for her to ride me, fuck I know she would be so good at it.

As her face contorts in pleasure she begs to cum I can't help but smile, trying to figure out how the fuck I got so lucky.

"That's it Bunny, just like that" I praise, guiding her through it all and making sure she tips over that edge, writhing and moaning beneath me and as she's just about to cum undone she grabs the back of my neck and smashes her lips against mine, making me swallow her adorable little whines and and screams of pleasure.

Baby was so nervous of how loud she would be that she just decided to make me swallow all her cries. Next time though she won't be getting away with that. She'll be screaming and begging for me to make her cum and I'll watch her, watch her fall apart knowing I'm the only one that's given her this much pleasure.

I continue fucking my fingers inside of her over and over again helping her ride out her high and only stop once her cries of overstimulation start to fall from her lips.

"You did so well Princess" I say, brushing the tears off her cheek, enjoying the glazed over look in her eye. "You did so good for me" I praise again and take note of the freshly fucked state she's in as she hums happily, slowly drifting off to sleep.

I chuckle at the sight of her and stand up to get a warm damp towel to clean her up. Watching over her as she lets out cute little whimpers at the feeling.

I throw the towel in the laundry basket and leave to go open the door to the guest bedroom down the hall and turn down the blankets so I can place her right under them as soon as she hits the mattress.

I head back into her room and gently scoop her up in my arms, smiling as she cuddles into me even in her unconscious state before placing her down moments later on the cool clean sheets.

I watch as she moves around, turning on her side and snuggling into the blanket to get comfortable and my heart melts at the scene. "Goodnight Bunny" I say to her softly, placing a kiss on her forehead and leaving the room, closing the door silently behind me.

I look down at the state I'm in and take note of the full tent I have in my sweats and curse at the sight of it. I head back into my room and close the door behind me, stripping out of my clothes, knowing that I need to take a shower again.

This time cold. Very cold.

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 5 months

Text

Northern attitude

Previous chapter

a/n I welcome you to the second part for more Sugar and Ghost. Did I have a right to form attachment to these two in two chapters? No. But here I am. Enjoy.

summary: mission gone bad, feels a little like enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort sort of goodness.

warnings: blood, wounds, needles, death, hospitals, IV's, vomiting, trauma... I think that's all...

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"Keep the chest compressions going", the female voice filled the space that now seemed as buzzing as the actual hospital room. Not that any of them truly had been in the midst of it all. But army hospitals, especially while on the move, could and did get chaotic at times. "You'll need another shot of adrenaline", a calm and collected tone instructed. Gaz looked into Soap's eyes, who has been ramming at your heart for some time now. The two males nodded at one another. "Coming in 3 2 1", Gaz called out as they switched for only a heartbeat or two. Soap's hand left your chest, while Gaz aimed the needle right toward your left shoulder.

Simon felt as if he was in a daze. In one of his nightmares, maybe. Yeah, maybe that's what it was. One of his nightmares where he was aware that he was in his mind traps. Yet he didn't recall what had happened after he started shaking your body. Who pulled you out of his arms? Who pushed him to the side?

"Go back to stimulating the heart, Johnny. Hum, while you're at it", Ghost knew that voice now that his brain had granted him a moment of clarity. Eleanor Price's wife was a medic and a woman not ready to give up on her adoptive daughter. Desperate and ready to do anything. Make the four basic medical knowledge-baring males do everything they can so her baby girl will come back home. Come home, but not in a casket. Simon had no clue who even dialed her number. The phone was used for emergencies only. They were strictly advised not to use it until it was a life-or-death situation. The call had to be directed straight to the base. Eleanor wasn't at the base. But somehow, that made Simon calmer. He was happier that it was her and not some careless idiot in charge.

"You need to start the drip", another desperate order filled the space. "I can't, El,", Price said, running a hand through his face in frustration. "John, for fuck sake, you've done it before. Put it in her hand, the palm; don't go full vein, but do it damit", that was the first time Simon caught onto her voice, quivering. For a split second, her cool doctor mask had slipped, making Price clench his jaw so tight that his voice was barely a groan. "Eleanor", he breathed. "Keep humming, Soap," she barked at the man now responsible for pumping your heart, ignoring her husband. And Soap did. His humming grew louder. I got a pocket—a pocket full of sunshine echoing from the walls, accompanied by his thick Scottish accent—now that he too was under lots of stress.

Gaz ran back into the main room with the pouch full of liquid. "Got it", he said breathlessly. "Good, you see that there are two different colored liquids?", Gaz nodded too overstimulated to realize that Eleanor could not see him. "There is", Price said for him. "Good, bend it. It needs to mix, then start the drip, or so help me, God, I will never forgive you, John".

Maybe not a nightmare. Maybe a bad movie. One Ghost hoped he would forget eventually. He just sat there. While everything buzzed around him. For the very first time, he felt helpless. That was a lie. He had only felt helpless that night. The night when all of the people he loved got slaughtered. The night he was forced to lock the last bits of his humanity away. To promise himself that no one would ever get close to him. He would not make friends. He would never fall in love. But here he was. Your blood was still all over him. Simon's hands were tinted. Permanently tinted. It felt almost like an out-of-body experience. He knew this was happening, but a part of him kept on screaming that this was not real and couldn't be. That fate wouldn't be so cruel. Yes, Ghost wasn't a good man, but selfishly, he was sure that after all that he had been through, his debts had to be paid off by now.

Ghost didn't know why, but his brain took him back to the base. The room you two shared. Did he hate it at first? Yes. But you brought peace. You brought life. His room was bland and colorless. Now, with your posters and books, plants, and fucking throw blankets, it felt like living there was intensional. Like you, and only you had to return there. And that was important to Simon. He cared about it. Cared about you even if his snarling demeanor wouldn't let it show.

There were nights when he would find you passed out with your book in your hands. The hardcover digging into your neck. It was not enough to hurt, but it sure had to be uncomfortable. Simon had stood there for a solid ten minutes, the first time it had happened, just watching your slumbering frame. He turned around and went about his nightly routine. He had gone and laid down in his bed. But only a handful of moments later, he was out, crossing the white line. He had gently pulled the book from your skin, using your pen to mark the page you were on. Pulling the blanket over your shoulders because the base got rather cold at night. He told himself that he couldn't allow a soldier on his team to get sick because manpower was crucial, but deep down, he knew that any other lad could be freezing his balls off for all he cared. It was you. You were the main factor in this equation. There was something even back then that didn't sit well with him when it came to you not being well.

"It's bleeding, Eleanor", John's desperate voice filled Ghost's mind, and it was like his systems had been restarted. His eyes darted toward the table. Onto John's slumped shoulders as he fidgeted with the needle. Simon jumped up. He rounded the table to push John's hand off as he reached for the tape, repositioning the very tip of the needle before securing it in place. "You need to keep it stable", Eleanor's voice rang out. "Simon just did it", John breathed out. The room stilled for a moment. They were running out of things they could do to keep you alive. To keep you with them. Ghost held onto your hand. He hoped that everyone would take it as just him making sure that your skin wasn't puffing up, indicating that the incision was done incorrectly. And none of the men, sweaty and mentally exhausted, would have said anything. But Eleanor did.

"Simon, you're okay, sweetheart?", It was so soft. Too soft. She should be yelling. Simon was responsible for what had happened here. Maybe even more, because he should have ripped all the doors that separated him from you. Should not have followed everyone into the safe house. "She will fight; you know it; you stay strong for her. She needs you", Ghost bit onto his cheeks, feeling the taste of iron filling his mouth. He had met Eleanor a couple of times. The woman was an angel. How John had landed her was beyond him, but she was exactly what you had been for the team. A breath of fresh air. Some days when everyone was off duty, she would ring up everyone, inviting them for a barbecue at her and Price's shared home. "Positive", Ghost breathed out, yanking the wall of steel back up. He couldn't let himself feel it. Not here. Not now.

"Her chest", Soap's two words were enough to shift the focus back to the table. His big eyes looked between the rest of his team and the women on the living room table. "Soap", Eleanor's voice carried both worry and hope. "It's moving, she's...", Johnny's voice died down, only to be overshadowed by Eleanor's once more, "Count her pulse for me; tell me if it's steady enough". No one breathed for a moment, as if afraid to chase it away. As if they inhaled too much oxygen themselves, there would not be enough for you. A minute passed. Two. Three.

"Yeah", Johnny breathed, "It's steady. Weak but... but...", a sob slipped past his lips, followed by a cry from Eleanor. Gaz sank to his knees, his chest heavy, as he tried to catch his breath. John moved past them all, rushing towards the side door. But the distance between him and the room wasn't big enough for the rest of them to not hear him heaving. "Fucking hell, Bonnie, you just took ten years of my life", Soap carefully ran his hand over your leg, his head falling back as the quiet tears continued to flow. "Keep a watch on her for me, boys", Eleanor sniffled from the other side. Simon leaned over. His face pressed into your side as he tried to keep his tears at bay. Not even for a moment letting go of your hand.

That was three weeks ago. They had managed to keep you alive for two days in that house. Two days. Finally, transportation from the base was provided to get all of them out of there. The doctors had told them straight to the face that what they had been doing was God's work. They were the reason you were still breathing. But even under the unfaltering gaze of the base doctors, Ghost still couldn't shake the feeling of you slipping away.

Simon was down in the medical wing every day. Some days, he stood for hours in the corner of the room. Some days, he pulled himself a chair and sat by your side. It was the nights that were the hardest, though. Because now all Ghost saw was you. All he felt was a lack of your presence. If he did manage to slip into a restless sleep, he would be up in no time. Sweaty and panting. He would reach for his hoodie as he moved through the quiet hallways to get to you.

"Debrief starts at five", Soap's head popped into the hospital room. Making Ghost stutter on the last words that he was reading as he slowly lowered one of your books to his lap. Most of his mornings looked the same. Quick shower. Breakfast if he was up for it. Your hospital room. Training. Back to your hospital room. Days when he had to be in meetings or debriefs were the ones he hated the most. That meant he had to be away from you for longer than he was willing. "Copy", he said sternly, eager to at least finish the page he was on. And even more so, hoping that Soap would go away. Simon had nothing against the guy. Out of everyone, he liked Johnny the most. The two had a similar sense of humor, and working together never felt like a never-ending nightmare. Just the Scot talked a lot. At times, it was fun, and Simon's ever-running brain benefited from it. But there were times, like now, when he wished that the man would get the message and go his own way. "Ain't my place to say this, but...", the door cracked open a bit more, "I'm sure that she loves that you're here", Simon was so glad that his back was turned to Soap because he was sure that he would be able to see his face falter. Fingers grinning at the book just a bit tighter. "Copy, Soap, you can go", Ghost's tone was more than unamused. He didn't want to break in front of any of them. The safe house had already been a dead giveaway of how Simon felt when it came to you. And he didn't want anyone to know anything else. "And she...", Soap started once more, but Ghost just lifted his hand up, making all sounds die down. "Copy", Simon said thickly through his teeth. He knew that it was selfish to push everyone away like that. You two were also friends. Close ones at that. Simon knew that Soap loved you. He had a front-row ticket to watch that after the mission went south. But he just couldn't. Couldn't do it now. When the door quietly kicked shut, Simon let out a sigh, his eyes darting towards the clock on the wall. He had to go, even if he didn't want to.

"I'll be back", he muttered softly, placing the book on the little table by your bed. "Will finish reading that book for you later", Ghost reached his hand out, softly running his fingers over your forehead, lingering touches stretching out for longer than they should. "You sleep well, Sugar", he breathed out, leaning in to place a kiss on the side of your head and stilling right beside you as he let himself listen to the sound of your breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. And he was pulling away, running a hand through his face before he walked out of the room.

Ghost barely said a word in the debrief. When Kate asked for his input, the man shrugged his shoulders and said, "You read my report; you know my thoughts". Was the upper management getting fed up with him at this point? Most definitely. Yet no one managed to put the lack of everyone's involvement against them. Most of the base had been rather quiet when they wheeled you through the corridors, almost lifeless. And yes, the key thing was not to get emotionally attached. Teammates came and went, but everyone knew just as well how tight everyone in this group was. Or came to realize that with the four men following the doctors in one quick stride.

"Ghost", Price's voice yanked Simon back to the meeting room. An almost empty meeting room at that. "A word alone in my office", the captain said, only waiting for a head nod before walking away. Simon followed suit. He knew there was no other option. "Eleanor said you didn't call her back", John mused, reaching for the lighter as he puffed out smoke. Ghost's face stayed blank as he muttered, "I didn't see the call". That was a lie. He did. And there was more than one. Simon just couldn't pick up. The same way he couldn't watch the way Price's wife had sobbed in her husband's chest when they had just returned. The guilt was too much. The sight of her sobbing only made Simon think that it was over. An hour. Maybe two. And your body will be in the bag. Stored away in the cold room.

"Simon", John snapped his hand in front of Ghost's eyes, making the male blink a couple of times. "Is that all, sir?", his voice was grim. Even Simon was struggling to recognize himself. John frowned, "Don't you sir me, boy", a warning finger was jabbed into Simon's chest. A moment of silence. A deep exhale. "Her vitals are getting better. She will pull through", Price said softly, clapping Ghost's shoulders, but the man simply shook his head and said, "You don't know that". And it's like that's all Price needed to realize where the stem of all of this denial was rooted. "I called the shots there. It's on me, not you", the captain said firmly, that same warning finger now pointing directly at his chest. Neither of them said anything else afterward. They just stood there. Eyes burning into each other.

Price's eyes narrowed for a moment before he muttered, "Do you like her? My, Sug, do you like her?", the question threw Simon off the hilt. He didn't expect it here. Now. It wasn't supposed to be discussed here. Like that. And my Sug... Fucking hell. It was his captain's daughter Simon was falling for. Biological or not, she was still a daughter. And for the first time, did he realize how much shit this could bring you both? Maybe it was one-sided even. But the way you held onto him. Your touch. Simon had never been touched so tenderly in his life. And what's more, for the very first time, he didn't want to pull away. "Because if you play...", Price's tone shifted completely as he spoke his words, and Ghost cut him off quickly, "Positive. I do... I like her". John simply nodded at his words, making Simom mimic his movements. The older male scratched his chin before waving Simon away, and he didn't waste a minute before turning away. He'll deal with the potential consequences later on.

Simon was almost out the door when a voice stopped him. "Simon", Price called out once more, making the soldier turn back, "I expect you to mow my lawn in the summer". A strange, warm sensation filled Simon's chest as he looked at the man in front of him, smiling as he puffed out another cloud of smoke. Ghost lets himself linger for a heartbeat more before he closes the door, heading towards the medical wing once more.

"I also overwatered your succulent", Simon said quietly as he looked out of the window in your room. The rest of the team had slowly turned the little, awfully sterol-looking room into a somewhat comfortable place. Or at least a place that screamed less about the inevitable outcome they all feared the most. A plush blanket. Some of your books. A night lamp in the shape of a duck. That was a gift from Soap. Was it slightly questionable? Yes. But everyone dealt with this in their own way, so if bringing you a light-up duck made Soap happy in some way, so will it be.

"I bought you a new one, but... still felt like you should know", Simon continued. He was doing this a lot. Way too much. Maybe? Ghost wasn't sure what was normal or not at this stage. Yet he couldn't help but feel that you would be sitting there with an eyebrow lifted at the number of words he was sharing. One thing everyone knew was that Ghost didn't speak unless it was necessary. Some called it arrogance. Others said that that was just his cold demeanor. The truth was, no one truly stopped to listen or cared for Simon for most of his life. So he got used to it. But talking to you, at least now, made him feel lighter. Besides the reading he did here, Simon also went over meetings with you. A part of him didn't want you to feel left out. Not that your unconscious body cared, but... if you could hear him. He wanted you to feel involved. Then there were an endless amount of stories about how and who had pissed him off that day.

"I...", Ghost's voice dies down as he turns back to face you. You looked like a doll laid neatly on the sheets. They have moved the IV out today. Nothing more but a heart monitor left running. Eleanor had no doubt been here while he was in the debrief because your hair had been brushed. Simon let out a sigh as he pulled a chair for himself, quickly shrugging off his gloves.

"You know, you caught my attention the moment I saw you", his hand hovered above yours for a moment. He didn't trust himself to touch you. What if he harmed you in some way? What if he triggered a negative reaction? "Fucking hell, did you keep us on your toes", Ghost shook his head, "I took it for granted. I'd do anything to see you striding past the main entrance once again". Simon let his head fall over your stomach. Oddly enough, that was the only time that his head seemed to work these days. Taking a deep breath, Simon let the feeling of your body slowly ground him. You're here. With him. He can hear your heart beating. Your body is no longer cold. You even have some of your color back. He can...

A sudden rustling of the sheets makes every single muscle in Simon's body seize. For a moment, he can't even hear his own heart as he stays as still as he can. One heartbeat. Another. Nothing. Devastation rushes through him. He had gotten so sensitive to the sounds in this room. A gentle hand caresses his scalp, and Simon jerks away.

Blinking rapidly, only to find your half-hooded eyes open. Looking right back at him. "No", Simon muttered, fully convinced that his lack of sleep had finally gotten the best of him. He doesn't move away, but he digs the back of his palm into his eyes. "Simon...", and it's barely a whisper. So weak still, but it's there, and... Simon's shoulders quiver. There's no sound. Not a single hick-up, but you know.

Every single part of your body feels as if it's on fire. The room is dim, but gods, it's still too bright for your sensitive eyes. Yet you can't take your eyes away from the man drowning in his own emotions right next to you. You carefully reach out for him, muscles soar from the lack of movement. Brushing your fingers through his hair. Scratching his scalp. You have no idea how long you've been out, but you've heard him talking. Soothing the anxiety of being trapped in nothing but darkness.

"Si", You breathe out once more, trying to tug at his wrist softly. Wanting nothing more than to see his eyes once again. Simon gives in instantly, the tears soaking his mask. You try to wipe some of them away, but his fingers wrap around your frail wrist. For a second, you are convinced that he will push you away, but he does quite the opposite. With both of his palms, Simon presses your hand into his cheek. Leaning into your touch.

"You died... I held you," he says through heavy breaths, pulling at your heart, "You... the blood". You shake your head slowly. "Look at me", you say softly, coughing slightly. At the feeling of your dry throat, Simon is out of the chair, lifting the water jug to pour you a glass before carefully cradling your head as he helps you take a couple of sips. That's enough to chase some of the big emotions away. Enough to give time for Ghost to pull the iron mask back on, but his eyes still glisten.

"I'm here, aren't I?", you whispered, "That pink rug was too appealing to give up", you joke slightly, and it's enough to make Ghost let out somewhat of a chuckle. "You don't have to die to buy a rug for our room", Simon says, head turning to look at the monitor as if waiting to see something that would still prove to him that this wasn't happening. "You look like shit, LT. Losing sleep over a girl doesn't look good on you", you mutter, and Simon lets out a dry huff. "Because I'm a decent bloke, I won't comment on how you look", you let out a gasp in return, and that nearly sent him flying off his chair because the man is on such high alert that anything rings danger bells in his head now. "I'm okay, just trying to be dramatic with you", you say, squeezing his hand softly, trying to get him to calm down once more. Silence falls. Not an uncomfortable one. One that fully captures the shared amount of words running through both of your minds.

"I heard you, you know? Kind of pissed that you think that Jack deserved to get his heart broken," Simon snorts, running his fingers through his hair. His shoulders droop. All of the adrenaline that's been keeping him upright is finally wearing off. Leaving him feeling heavy and weak. "Should I get the others? Price would...", Ghost breathed, turning to get up, but you grabbed onto his hand quickly. "I just want you right now", you muttered straight away, realizing how dumb and desperate that sounded, "If you don't mind".

Simon scoffed, "Sugar, I sat here for three weeks begging for all the holy things that you would pull through", You bit your lip at his words. You knew that he did. You felt him. Heard him. Smelled him. He had been your lifeline all this time. "If I could, I would pull rank to get myself off duty so I could sit here till you fully recover", Ghost says, rolling his eyes, now doubtful at everyone who has been up his ass for not attending every single meeting. You smile at him weakly, feeling the little bits of your energy slowly giving out. Yet you still muster what's left of it to move your head up so you could run your fingers beneath Simon's eyes, where the darkest tired bags screamed about the lack of sleep he was getting.

"Get in bed," You tap the side next to you softly. You have no idea how you both will fit here, but you can't watch him practically fall asleep by your side. He had already spent way too many nights in that tiny plastic chair. "Shouldn't we at least go on a date first?", Simon jokes, making your cheeks grow crimson, and you're convinced that they are a dead giveaway of how you are feeling. "Oh, fuck you...", you huff, trying to frown, but the smile that tugged at your lips was too strong. "Lay with me, so you could sleep. So we both could sleep", you say once more, not letting go of his hand. With the size of this man, the bed will get crampy. But you didn't care. You needed to feel him close. To just know that he was with you. Fully. As if reading your mind, Simon got up, climbing into the bed from your good side. Making sure your uninjured shoulder was pressed against him.

"Is this okay?", he said after a moment of you two moving around to find a comfortable position for the two of you. "You can wrap your hands around me; you don't have to lay there like a log", you chuckled, tugging at his sleeve and urging him to cling onto you the way you were clinging to him. Ghost chuckled softly, leaning in to kiss your head. Your hand instantly moves up to cradle the side of his masked face. The feeling of the soft material soothing to your senses. "I fucking missed you", Ghost breathed after a moment of silence. Fingers running up and down your back. You slowly peeled your eyes open, fighting the tiredness just for a heartbeat longer. Meeting his soft eyes as looked down at you. "I missed you too, Simon. Been missing you since the moment I saw you", you smiled softly, turning to press a loving kiss on his chest, right over his heart, before you lay your head back, listening to the steady drumming.

#simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley cod #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost cod x reader #ghost x reader #cod x reader #cod x you #cod imagine

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justpoliteconversations · 1 month

Text

Apple Merchant [BOTW!Link x Isekai!Reader] (Part 4)

Link learns some things. And so do you.

Yet another for the ever growing pile of self-indulgent garbage refuse. Enjoy the process of decomposition with me for a while.

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

Alternate Extras: Embrace

Masterlist

TW: Choosing not to display warnings. Read at your own discretion.

Disclaimer: Don't own The Legend of Zelda franchise.

---

The yiga. A faction of Ganon worshipping traitors formerly of the Sheikah clan, whose main objective is to kill the Hero known as Link (in other words, himself). Known for their distinctive red body suits and white masks. And, strangely enough, their love of bananas.

They were also currently at the very top of Link's (until recently non-existent) shit list, because AM had deemed their threat level too great to allow them to meet each other freely. As Blue had told him, AM's profession placed them at greater danger than the average citizen to the assassins' blades. What that profession was, Link was not told (despite his pleading and intense stares and even one memorable attempt to bargain for the information), but it was deemed necessary to maintain distance because of this.

There were plenty of other useful things in the book too. Not a letter or a note or even a small bundle of documents. A book. An honest to Goddess book. Because there was nothing else the ridiculously thick, neatly piled collection of leather bound miscellaneous papers, maps, diagrams, notes and documents could be. It was the thickness of Link's hand for goodness sakes.

Thankfully, Blue had taken mercy on him (and his desire to get moving as soon as possible) and bookmarked the pages and maps that would be most useful to him. All while giving him that bland, graceful smile of hers and explaining that AM was a very proactive information gatherer, but that they didn't always consider that not everyone wanted to know the exact region Sneaky snails bred in or where the highest priced wheat could be found.

Link very deliberately didn't tell her that he did, in fact, find those very interesting topics to learn about (and that he would be reading through the entire book when he got the chance. later). Because he was still stung that she'd given him a condescending little smile (smirk, it was a damned smirk and Link knew it) when he'd tried to bargain with her for more information on AM.

In total, he'd spent three days in Hateno, gathering information (as though the book wasn't enough), gathering supplies (because as many as were in the slate, it didn't have everything a warrior would need to maintain his gear. Blue's words, not his) and getting to know the people around the area.

Also, armor. Costume fitted (Link didn't think too hard about how Blue had gotten his measurements) as to AM's specifications before they'd left town. The order arrived a little later due to his (apparently) small size causing complications with some of the straps.

Honestly, it felt good. It felt familiar with a hazy kind of comfort that spoke of his body's remembrance of such armor resting upon it often. And suddenly, in that moment, the thought that he had once been a knight didn't feel so far off, despite having no memory of it and very little desire to become as such again.

Ready to go (finally) he put on his boots, tightened the straps of his new (fitted. maybe he'd see about getting his Sheikah armor fitted as well if he was in the area) hyrulian armor set, and took one last shot before departing.

"Where can I get more bananas?" Link tried, going for casual but coming off far too intense for it to be anything but prying. "For the Yiga problem."

Blue just smiled (small and condescending, and so frustrating) before replying evenly. "AM has that well in hand I'd imagine." The knowing glint in Blue's eyes put a pout on Link's face. "It's best you focus on your mission, Courageous One." Then she smiled genuinely. Just a bit, but enough to ease Link's heart as she continued. "Fear naught for your beloved AM. No harm shall befall them while my sister haunts their shadow."

Link believed her. And with that little bit of reassurance, the Hero of Hyrule set out into the world once more. With courage in his heart and his goal ever at the forefront of his mind.

Defeat the Calamity guy. Meet AM. Travel this vast, wondrous world with them for the rest of their days. Or, maybe one day settle down more permanently in Hateno and open a food stand.

Anywhere life took them. Whatever you wanted. This was the beginning of his new life after all, and he was so eager to spend it with you.

---

You stared up at the quickly growing pile of bright yellow fruit with something like regret stabbing at your heart. Just thinking about how much rupees you were about to drop on this one purchase alone was enough to put a hitch in your throat. It was enough to have you contemplating a long walk off that equally long (absurdly long) wooden bridge just next to the stable.

When you'd stopped at Lakeside Stable for the night and told Adino you'd pay him market price for any bananas he brought back to you before you left. You hadn't expected him to take that as a challenge. You hadn't expected Skims to get involved in it as well. And you most certainly had not expected Red to show up out of nowhere with a pile rivaling (and maybe even surpassing) Adino's.

And thus, within the span of a few short hours, you were suddenly several thousand rupees poorer (not that that pantry amount even scratched the surface of your accumulated wealth, but you digress) and many, many bananas richer.

At least they tasted good.

"Not that I'm against your presence. But why are you here, Red?" You asked the red clad woman after (with a heavy heart) passing out everyone's pay for the bananas they'd brought you. (Skims and Red didn't even have the grace to look ashamed for muscling in on the quick profit either, the jerks.)

She didn't even pause from where she'd been fingering through her newly acquired (ill gotten) gains when she hummed playfully. "Oh. Gran thought it'd be wise to send along a little extra protection to ensure The Hero's benefactor remained unmolested during these most crucial of times."

The look on your face must have been confused enough to spur Red to explain. "Gran told us to keep you in the dark about our motivations, but I like you. So I'll tell you the truth, since you seem like the reasonable sort." She finally put the rupees down and turned to face you, eyes hardening into a serious shade of near black as she explained.

"The Hero is without his memory, and until recently, was without motivation to see his mission through with the urgency it requires. Had he been as he was before, just the mention of the Princess would have been enough to send the guy running, if you believe the rambling of nostalgic old gossip crows." Her lips twisted into something too complicated to decipher before it was neutral again.

"But he's not the man he used to be. He's not the princess's knight anymore for all his destiny would push him to be. And so, he needed a new motivation to get him moving." She gave you a smile, but it wasn't a nice one (it was one full of spite and pity, though only the pitying part was directed at you). "That's you. The guy loves you already. Call it situational stockholm or just that damned knightly instincts of his, but you are the apple of his eye." She tried to soften her smile into something humorous, but it fell short.

"Bottom line. You're the replacement motivation. Just until he gets enough of his memories back to get invested in the Princess' wellbeing." She flicked a rupee off the stump she'd gathered them on, expression very closed off as she continued.

"Whenever Mr. hero gets a little too comfortable playing house, we're supposed to dangle you in his face and get him interested again. That you seem invested in his success was just a bonus. Be it the Will of Hylia or just simple coincidence, doesn't matter. You're useful, and if it gets the Princess out of that Hell, we're willing to use that."

Another smile, sharp but honest. "It's our duty after all, to serve the royal family. I'm sure you understand." Despite the way the information settled sourly in your stomach you nodded, keeping your expression as even as possible.

She noticed though, and suddenly her hand was on yours (you hadn't noticed it tightening into a fist). "Don't fret, Apples." She smiled again, softer this time. Eyes lighted with a compassion that held such raw honesty despite her earlier words. "My sister and I are not going to let the elders use you like that. You might have asked yourself why Bluey isn't here instead, since, you know-" She smirked, side-eyeing Adino who'd gone some distance off to try to find more bananas (to take more of your rupees, the little bastard).

"We will fulfill our duties. For the protection of Hyrule and everything we love. But not at your's or your dear Hero's expense. At least, not like that. You see, Bluey has something I do not, and that is a gentle touch. She'll take care of the Hero in the way he needs, not the way that'll get the fastest results." Her smirk widened. "And she's got more of a rebellious streak than me too. Trust in her. She'll protect your dear Hero. Even if she has to spit in the elders' eyes to do it. She never could put her heart aside for the sake of duty."

You were silent for a time, digesting her words with the weight and attention they deserved, before looking back to her. A smile on your lips, and your hand out before her in the gesture of a shake.

"I look forward to doing business with you then, Red." You began, letting the edge of your resolve sharpen your eyes and embolden your words. "Let's do our best to protect Link and save Zelda. We'll give it everything we've got."

Red grinned, full and bright and smug (so unbearably smug, like she had won the lottery. which they didn't have here, and you were not interested in introducing any time soon either). "I knew you were gonna understand. The Goddess wouldn't choose just anyone to guard her chosen's heart."

You blinked. "What?"

Red picked up another rupee, flicking it at you. "What~?"

---

Now, off to work! And then the shadows to rest.

#botw link #botw x reader #link x you #link x reader #isekai reader

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 8 months

Note

Hi Hal!

Congratulations on finishing all the requests (there were so many good ones!!) and thank you for opening them up again!! I’m excited to see what you have in store for us with all your other projects, bestie!!! 😊😊

I was unsure of who to request at first because there are so many good ones but then I saw Hesh’s name and an idea hit me.

If you’re ok with it, could you possibly write one for Hesh where the reader is part of the Ghosts has been taken/captured by the Federation and after some time, they get intel on where she is so they go out to rescue her and she and Hesh are reunited? I don’t know if you want it to be a pre-established relationship or one where they both admit their feelings after they get her back, so I’m leaving it up to you. But I need a little rescue/reunion fic to fill the void in my heart that the ending of Ghosts made.

As always, feel free to change it up as you see fit and do whatever you want. I just think that Hesh deserves more love and I wouldn’t be opposed to seeing Riley again (aka: the best dog in the world)!!

Thank you and remember to take care of yourself and I appreciate you and your work!! 💕💕 Love you, bestie!!!!

Lengths Of Love

PAIRING: David 'Hesh' Walker x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: You'd loved Hesh for as long as you can remember, and you'd pulled him out of trouble for even longer, but you'd never had the courage to tell him how you feel. Until you do. Until you're being dragged away from his broken body.

WORDCOUNT: 10.7k

WARNINGS: Major spoilers for CoD: Ghosts, heavy angst, blood, guts, descriptions of wounds, canon-typical violence, weapons and firearms, death, torture involving: drugs/hallucinogens, physical violence, mental stress, talks of PTSD, anxiety, paranoia, rescue fic, best friends to lovers plot, wounds that would 100% kill you that you live from (plot armor fr), etc.

A/N: Bestie, I don't know what you put into your prompts, lmao, but I always end up writing so much for you!! Thanks so much for sending something in <3<3

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

The beginning of the end started with good intentions and one statement.

“You hear this? It’s Rorke. He’s here. They’re evacuating on the train system below.” Hesh’s green eyes darted to you and Logan, his painted face a collection of rage and surety. The three of you were, in an instant, in agreement of revenge—there was no question as to what had to be done. Merrick couldn’t stop you, not on this.

Rorke had made one of the most dangerous decisions of his life, and that was underestimating the Walker boys and their partner in sinful crime.

“Harp,” you look away from the body of the warhead as it enters the atmosphere, locking onto Hesh’s hard eyes; the ones that had grown steadily colder since the death of his father, Elias. But it wasn’t just him—the patriarch had been close to you as well. The knowledge of his passing, witnessing it as the rope restraints seared into your flesh, had lit an all-consuming fire in your gut.

Like hounds, the scent of blood had hit the air.

“Let’s get the bastard. Now or never,” you ease out, and Logan darts his gaze down to you from behind his balaclava.

“Damn right,” Hesh barks, nodding firmly to you.

Anyone would have missed the way your gaze lingered on him as he darted off and began rushing down the stairs from the control room, Logan ever quick at his heels. But they wouldn’t have missed the way your breath pushed out a soft sigh as your eyes kept locked on the back of Hesh’s head as you followed after.

You’d been childhood friends since practically infancy, a neighbor to the Walkers. It was natural that Hesh would grow to be the object of your daydreams ever since grade school; a constant and digging knife into your heart when he’d repeatedly pick other girls over you.

But such was life.

All that mattered now was bringing down Rorke, silly love could wait.

“Merrick,” Hesh yelled down his line, the world outside this building rampant with open war. “The missile’s away and we’ve got a lead on Rorke, we’re going after him!”

The white double doors meet the three of you as you all rush to them, and the panicked man’s voice flashes down the line immediately.

“Negative Hesh! You three get back here and return to the rally point. We’ll track him down together.”

You call, “Isn’t an option, Merrick. We can’t let this one go.”

You and Hesh ram your shoulders into the doors, Logan darting through first with his weapon drawn down the hallway. The brunette’s and your shoulders brush in a jostling of gear—pulling the back as your eyes lock. Cold light seeps from overhead, metal under your feet clanking in-key.

You look away before Hesh agrees and levels with the Ghost over the line to push your point. “Sorry, Merrick. Your mission is complete…ours isn’t.”

Federation heads pop up from behind makeshift barriers of barrels and other stacked items and as you all enter and clear rooms, alarms blare with the ferocity of fighting lions. Hesh keeps by your side, offering you openings that you greedily take as another soldier falls with a stiff twitch of your finger on the trigger.

Darting behind cover, the man slams to the space beside you, calling over above the noise and the whizz of bullets.

“How long till impact?!” You shove a new clip into your FAD, brushing sweat and blood from your cheeks, smearing patches of your own paint.

Glancing at the watch on your wrist, you hear Logan pushing the line. You dart out of cover to help—locking onto hostiles and backing up the younger brother with quick feet.

“Eight minutes, Hesh! You got a plan that doesn’t leave me with scorched hair?” He finds it in himself to laugh, clocking a soldier to your left and riddling him with bullets.

“We need to get to that train, Harp. Don’t worry—I’ll kiss the burns away for you.” He rushes past and sends a smirk over his shoulder. You’re left stunned for a second, wishing that the teasing tilt to the older brother’s words was more than that. You blink, and the feeling is forced away.

Later.

“Keep pushing, Logan,” Hesh moves on. You all sprint down descending ramps, farther and farther underground with every step; adrenaline building to a breakneck level like weight slowly being added over and over to a chest. “We need to get to Rorke!”

You didn’t want to tell him, but, while revenge was on your plate as well, this was a very reckless idea.

As you grab for a grenade from your belt and jerk on the pin, you chuck it down the way and call out a warning to the boys, who, like a well-oiled machine, dart and wait for it to detonate. Bodies fly, bloody splashes of torn limbs, and three Ghosts materialize from the smoke with masked and painted faces; eyes like fire and veins boiling.

“Fire team suppressed in 3-1,” Hesh shouts through the line as you slide your knife into a man’s eye, his goggles breaking in a shattering of glass. “Advancing to loading bay!”

There’s a large elevator ahead for transporting crates, and all of you jog inside as the gate creaks shut.

Merrick’s stiff voice replies, “Roger that.”

Silently, you click into the channel and mutter out as a moment of relative peace coats your body like a blanket, even if for a few small seconds.

“I’ll keep ‘em safe,” a small twitch of your lips, “Commander.”

A deep and unimpressed voice wafts into your ear with a large sigh. “Know you will—just remember to keep yourself safe in the process, Kid…Don’t do anything stupid.”

You shift your gaze to Hash and find green already staring at you. Blinking, the man quickly darts his vision away and after a moment you turn your face back down to the connection and huff through a burning epidermis.

“Haven't you heard?” The elevator shows the train as it descends down, and you call to the boys, ‘six minutes’, with a firm voice.

“Stupid seems to follow us three everywhere.”

Hesh points as the figures of more soldiers walk around below. “There’s Rorke’s train, straight ahead!” Sure enough, the worm of black and gray metal extends to your eyes across the large room

“He’ll be on there soon. Logan, take left.” You order and the brown-eyed man nods from beside you, shouldering his rifle and checking the clip. “Hesh?”

“Taking right—you got Point, Doll.” He stares at you, licking his lips. “Clear the way?” You tilt your head at him as the elevator jumps to a stop, the barrier sliding away. It pains you to look away.

There were so many things you had to tell him. Too many things.

“Always.” Shiting your face forward, you take a breath and take notice of points of cover, scoping the room in three seconds flat. Screeching wheels and alarms ingrain your eardrums. “On me.”

As you head out first, fire the first bullet, the two peel off in opposite directions, Hesh only sliding up beside you and uttering into your ear.

“Be safe.”

That comment makes you want to be anything but, if only he’d whisper into your ear like that again.

Clearing the room, you can’t get your mind off the fact that this crush was overtaking nearly every part of your life—years of quiet agony and staying your tongue in fear of losing what great friendship you had.

The stock set into your shoulder recoils with another burst of fire, Federation soldiers scream in pain, but you barely register over the shadows in the sides of your vision.

“Damnit, Hesh,” you growl, bullet grazing your shoulder as you grunt and slip behind a concrete divider.

“What’s that?” Your eyes widen comedically. Shit…had you forgotten to close the line?

“Eh,” you clear your throat, grimacing at the small sparks of pain in your shoulder. “N-nothing.”

There’s a bout of silence and then a panting voice, rough and growing more serious. “You alright over there, Harp?” You can’t even respond before Hesh quickly continues. “I’m comin’ to you. Stay there.”

You violently shake your head, although he can’t see it.

“Hesh, I’m fine! Keep right and clear that hallway.”

There’s a deep grunt. “Fine, but if I see one scratch I’m makin’ Riley chase you down the Base when we get back.”

If we get back.

You roll your eyes with a growing smile, steeling yourself and slamming your weapon to the top of the divider before locking onto your targets. “Please, we both know he loves me too much for that.”

“Most I’ll have to do is put a treat in your pocket, Sweetheart.” His sly smirk is heard easily, and you swallow tense-like and breathe shakily. That low drawl in his tone left you more distracted than you could ever get used to. “Hell,” There’s a struggle over the line before the shink of a knife meeting flesh. A breathless chuckle that leaves your gut swirling. “Maybe I’ll just chase you down myself.”

Logan coughs over the line and you have to click off before you scream. Your face flares up until your ears ring and you have to duck behind your cover again before you get metal right to the forehead.

Behind the barrier, you glare at the floor.

When did general teasing get so hard for you? Jokes and jabs carrying weight—since when? Sure you’d liked—more liked loved—Hesh since before all of this, but you’d carried on well enough.

“Fucking hell,” you grumble, shaking your head to clear it and rushing.

The brothers pop through the side hallways to flank the enemy, taking out the one or two hostiles that were still breathing after you level your barrel with the last standing head; firing with a burst of gunpowder.

“Train’s leaving, let's go!” Hesh screams, waving an arm quickly at you, walking backwards on quick feet. “Harp, C’mon!”

You chuff, hopping the divider and sprinting as the metal object speeds up—there’s a moment where you fear you might miss it, Hesh and Logan both forced to hop on even in your absence.

“Harp!” Green eyes flash, one hand on the railing and the other extended out.

“On it!” Snapping, you slam your palm into his and feel his strong fingers curl to clutch you. Logan grabs your collar and helps; the both of them easily yanking you over just as the wall of the tunnel engulfs you all in illuminated shadow.

Back meeting the train’s body, you pant and chuckle as Logan shakes his head, amused, and pats your shoulder. You wink at him jokingly.

“Good save there, Walker Number Two.”

Hesh grabs the side of your neck, looking you over as he leans back with a breathless chuckle at the title for his brother. He blinks quickly at your shoulder, eye narrowing before he reaches out and looks at the blood on your gear.

“You mind telling me what this is, Doll?” You make a nose in the back of your throat as the smell of his musk hits your nostrils; the deadly concoction of his scent and his digging gaze.

Stuttering, you huff. “Eh…bullet graze?”

You’re leveled with thin lips, but Logan grabs his brother by the upper arm and peels him off you, motioning to his radio as the train gains even more speed. Wind whips past your face as Hesh clears his throat, quickly avoiding your eyes.

The man’s splotchy paint shows his red skin under the darker pigment.

“Merrick, we’re on the train,” he speaks, shifting past you without another look. “We’re going after Rorke.”

“Solid Copy.” You watch the brunette walk away and hold your breath, though you don’t know why—heart beating not just because of adrenaline.

Embarrassment breeding in your stomach, you ignore Logan’s knowing stare and push off the wall, rubbing at your bleeding shoulder with a stiff hand.

—

You break a man’s neck against the wall, hand on the back of his head before you slam it into the hard metal. There’s a crunch of bone and a broken rattle before the broadcasted feed from the screen on the train’s panel spits out a message in panicked Spanish to the already deceased men.

“Evacuation protocol C is in effect. All personnel secure cargo and supplies—”

Hesh interrupts ahead of you as you let the body drop, scowling at the heavy sound of its dead weight. At his angry voice, you perk and tune in.

“Tell Rorke we’re comin’ for him.” There’s a quick shove from the other end of the feed, the previous man disappearing as the individual that takes his place makes your eyes go to slits. A great growl like a wolf echoes from your heart and seeps from between your clenched teeth.

Rorke’s scarred face appears with a smirk and a cocky voice.

“Why don’t you just tell me yourself?” You look at your boys, more concerned for them as you watch firsthand the trauma the death of their father brought them.

Logan holds his weapon tighter, fixing his grip. Hesh is a bit more direct. He leans closer to the screen, bearing his teeth like a dog and snarling with rage and hatred.

“You’re done, Rorke.” All of a sudden he peels back a fast fist and sends it careening into the screen—making a shattering of glass and a hard thud emanate deep into your bones.

Blinking quickly, you tense as it happens, not expecting that. But as soon as you try to make sense of it, the brunette is already banking off to the side door, calling a sharp, “Let’s finish this!”

He grabs the side of the train car and wrenches on the handle, grunting and pushing with all of his might.

“Hesh,” you try to reason, stepping in now before things get too hot. “We need to think of a plan before you rush into things. This could get us in a heap of shit that we might not be able to get out of.”

It’s like he doesn’t hear you, and you spare a glance with Logan for help. But he, too, has already joined his brother with a swish of gear on the handle. With one great push, the door opens to the outside brightness, making your face turn away for a moment.

Along the far expanse of open sand dunes outside; mountains flanking the bridge this train flies across, you get the perfect view of a warhead meeting the ground in an explosion of fire and death. It bursts far across the valley, and you cover your eyes as the sharp ball of light burns your retinas.

The shockwave hits moments later, and Hesh says easily as the train shakes and squeals like a metal pig, “Looks like Icarus got control of the rods!” The boys step out onto the platform along the train, and you have no option but to follow. “All that’s left is Rorke, let's go!”

“Hesh,” you try again, hissing out his name, and you’re graced with a quick glance.

“Harp,” he comments, “what is it? We can’t wait any longer—”

“What we can’t do is go in blind!” You shout above the wind, legs stanced to help you stay up. Green eyes twitch with confusion, perhaps even a little hurt.

“Blind? What are you talking about, we push forward and take what’s owed.” You know how much this means to him—to Logan—but there was a point where pride and stubbornness outweighed sense. This was dangerous, especially for Hesh.

You were always the one to keep him level; keep him from becoming too much like his dad.

You’d promised that old bastard you’d look after his boys, albeit in a teasing sense, but to you, it had been a stark vow on your soul. Logan was a brother to you, and Hesh…Hesh would always be more, but that only made your love for them both grow.

“You keep those two from getting in their heads, you hear? They mean well, but there’s no one I trust more than you to level them out, Harp. I’m proud of you. And I’m sure your folks would be too.” Elias had said that, and when he died you bottled it up and used so much force that coal had turned to diamond.

You would keep Logan and Hesh safe. Safe, and level, and not hard-headed.

For as much as you secretly loved your brunette, he sure was stubborn as all hell.

“If you want out, Harp,” Hesh calls to you, gritting his teeth. “Just wait back in the train car. This is something we can’t put off like everything else—this ends now; today. I’m not letting Dad’s killer survive.”

“Son of a bitch, that’s not what I’m saying!” You’re quickly losing your standing. Logan jogs ahead to scout, time ticking. “Hesh, you know that I loved Elias as much as you two did—not one is denying that this needs to happen. I'm with you. But this is too damn dangerous! We can’t rush into this without a plan of attack; of exfil! Do you even know how we’re going to get off of this thing?!”

Hesh had been isolating the few days he had on the U.S.S Liberator, keeping to his room. The man idolized his father and put him on a pedestal of gold even when he was a teenager. He’d even pushed away from you, which all together was unheard of. Logan had nearly had an aneurism when you’d come back to the cafeteria and shook your head in disappointment after trying to get him to open his door.

The two of you told each other everything. Always. That was just…how it was.

But the man that Hesh had donned the skin of was not the man you loved.

Hesh glares at you, eyes going alight with anger.

“If you were with me, you wouldn’t be holding me back.” He turns and runs after Logan, leaving you behind in the open air as the train banks left and right with the sway of the bridge.

Staring. Barely breathing. Mouth parted and eyes wide.

When the man is at the end of the current train car, having to jump a small distance to the next, he pauses. His back is tight, and under him, his feet shuffle.

There’s a moment you hope he’ll turn around and come back, take you into one of his hugs, and squeeze the life out of you. It wouldn’t be such a cruel way to die, you think, to be held in his arms.

But the next moment you see the back of his head shake, and he jumps over to the next section, not even giving you a second glance.

You don’t want to admit how long you waited there, your mind jumbled and confused.

Don’t take it personally, you try to tell yourself, sucking down a breath before slowly walking forward. He’s hurt. Grieving. He didn’t mean it.

Rationality was a tool of the level-headed, and you were anything but that nowadays.

Over the line Hesh’s voice makes you flinch as you slowly follow after, train car after train car.

“Rorke must be at the front of the train!” You step over dead bodies and lend merciful bullets to the ones still writhing, boots coated in crimson. Following a trail of wreckage with stiff lungs.

Stay out of his way? Fine, you could do that.

You stayed back from the head-to-head fighting, laying covering fire and keeping off the comms—whenever Hesh managed to look back at you, you simply moved on to the next hostile.

Eventually, you all ended up on the rooftops, the boys far ahead and yourself blank-faced at the rear. Logan was acting more concerned than Hesh was, glancing at you constantly in confused worry. But it was very much short-lived.

“Incoming!” The right side of the railcar bursts with fire, and you gasp before grappling for the opposite side of the train, keeping you there before the swaying beast leveled out. “Helos. Take cover and take out the gunners!”

You scoff, quickly making your way behind a connector joint to lean your back against it and catch your breath. Two helicopters fly alongside the train, Logan already firing at one, and Hesh…your eyes narrow with annoyance. Hesh was already running ahead of the pack, his low grunts and growls over the line giving way to his impatience.

You click your jaw and try to remind yourself that this is the same man who held you close during movie nights and carried you to bed when you fell asleep. Made you waffles when your boyfriend in eighth grade broke up with you on Valentine’s Day.

Stitched your wounds before he gave them a teasing ‘kiss better’ and looked up at you through dark lashes.

You wildly shake your head to force yourself back to the present.

The gunners are harder to hit not only based on wind and distance alone, but on the erratic movements of the pilots. It’s several clips before you down the second Helo, and Logan’s follows immediately after as they both collide and ram into the mountainside.

You both share a glance and rush after the misguided brunette.

At the end of the train, only the engine remains.

“Clear!” Hesh relays, jumping down from the roof of the railcar and hurriedly walking to the white door, leaning against the wall. “We’re at the last car, Logan. Rorke’s pinned, he knows we’re comin’.”

You gaze down from the top as Logan follows, silent and brooding. Your hands along your FAD tighten under your gloves. You don’t even look at the man.

“Merrick, do you copy?”

“Copy, Hesh.”

“We’re moving in on Rorke.” You slide him a look, seeing him glaring those pretty greens into the ground. “If you hear the word “Checkmate”, you will fire on our position! Confirm?” Your eyes snap with horror, heart lurching.

Surely, you hadn’t heard that right.

Merrick’s voice echoes your frozen confusion. “Say again, repeat your last.”

You jump down and stagger for a moment, barking out a harsh, “What the fuck are you doing?” Inside of your chest, your heart rampages like it never had before. “That’s suicide!”

He was going to kill everyone to bring down Rorke, and you get no answer beyond a clenched jaw and a quick side-eye.

“You heard me, Merrick, on “Checkmate”, hit this train!” The connection is cut and Logan gets into position to shoulder the door open, you watch, stuttering.

Hesh levels with his brother, “We can’t take any chances, Logan. Even if we fail, Rorke dies.” Panic builds, and you’re taking quick steps forward.

You keep those two from getting in their heads, you hear?

You have to stop them, you have to drag them away—but even you know that deep down the only thing that will stop these two is a bullet.

Eyes snapping back and forth, you only get close enough to try and snatch at Hesh’s arm right as he finishes a countdown of three; at the end, Logan kicks down the engine room door with a violent connection of his boot.

Even with the drop on the three guards inside, it doesn't stop the bullet from ripping through your lower side, preoccupied and distracted yet again. You yell loudly, balking back into the door frame and hunching over as blood spurts out of you. Hesh’s head whips your way immediately, jaw going slack and a soul-deep hysteria takes over.

So now he pays attention.

“Shit, Harp!” So little time.

Logan can’t take care of the last remaining Fed soldier by himself, and in a large act of self-sabotage, that very soldier just happened to have a missile launcher.

The entire left engine explodes—the train jerks; everyone is sent in a back-and-forth motion, first hitting off the last train car before being sent right back through the engine room entirely. A transference of force gives you whiplash as your head bounces off the door frame.

The world goes blurry, body hitting and slamming through layers of glass and pain before the control room is suddenly where you end up, using the body of a stunned guard as a cushion.

There’s a second of muffled gunfire, struggling and yelling—and then it all comes back into focus like a sniper’s scope being correctly sighted. You gargle an expletive and shove the guard under you back down despite the searing heat in your side and head; struggling to unsheathe your combat knife as the world tilts.

Hands push at your cheeks, grip at your neck futilely, but when you get the blade out and struggle the hands down once more, you hammer the point into his throat with a thump of your boot pressing for purchase on the floor.

The man spasming, you push off of him and slam to the ground, coughing in great lung-shattering segments.

“You can’t win, Rorke!” Hesh’s voice brings you back from the swirling, and you hear your blood patter to the metal floor like rain.

“Shit,” you mutter, gasping for air.

Gazing up you see Rorke holding Logan in a chokehold, free hand pointing a gun at Hesh. Your eyes bulged, trying to push onto your knees and reach for your weapon as you saw Hesh continually looking away from the target and worriedly watching you. His hands at his sides are loose, but when you lock eyes with him, they clench and shake.

“It’s over—” He tries, but the loud gunshot bounces off the train’s enclosed space. You’re yelling before you can think, darting forward and leveling your gun right to Rorke’s head as Hesh’s form collapses to the ground.

Standing on unsteady feet, you pant and stumble, but the devil’s brown eyes hold you captive. Rorke smirks as you guard Hesh behind you.

“Well, well, well, seems the girl’s just as promising as you, eh, Logan? She’s the other one who slipped her binds in Las Vegas.” He laughs. “Look at me, I’m surrounded by young talent.”

“I don’t exactly care if you are or aren’t,” you growl, shuffling to keep Hesh even farther behind you as you instrumentally cough again. Your legs are wobbling. “Just that you put my fucking friend down.”

“You willing to die for him?” Rorke looks demented, with his scar and his intimidating build. Whatever torture he had been through to make him like this—a Ghost killer—it had worked perfectly. There was no coming back from this. He whistles lowly. “That’s some loyalty you have there.”

His mind was dead to all else.

You don’t hesitate in an answer, even as the man behind you grabs your leg, trying to move you with a wheezing breath.

“H-Harp,” his spine moves in a cough. “Don’t…please.”

“Always.” Interest alights in those dark, tiny eyes. Logan tries to give you messages with his gaze, but you ignore him. Ironic. “That’s not something I’ll break on. Unlike you.”

“Shit, Kid,” there’s a grand laugh, “now that’s heartless…but good,” Rorke glances at Hesh, raising a brow and chuckling. “I’ll love to see the look in his eyes when I—”

“Checkmate!”

“Checkmate confirmed.” You look down at Hesh and see him watching you, his gaze open and bare.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps, but all you can do is watch.

There’s no time to think.

“I love you,” you confess in a fleeting moment of bare nothingness, blurting it out. “I’ve loved you.”

Hesh’s body entirely halts, jaw slowly slackening in horror; something shifts behind his eyes but before he can open his mouth, a rageful bark bullies the smooth tone of his throat back.

“What did you do?!” Your form is bodied into the controls behind you, colliding as you snarl and are forced to recover. With a snap of your finger, you fire a shot into Rorke’s foot.

He yells and whips his wrist back, slamming the butt of his gun into your temple.

As the bridge ahead of the train explodes, Hesh drags himself to cover your body, muttering into your flesh words you cannot name as the darkness sets in.

“It’s over,” Hesh speaks grimly to Rorke, turning to look at him silently as he presses your head into his chest, sharing a nod and thin-lipped look with Logan still stuck in his arm. “It’s over.”

“Shit, Son…” The train gets thrown and broken in a wave of utter destruction and rebirth; and through it all, Hesh never lets go—not even when the water below comes up to meet you.

—

The beach’s sand is coarse, and it sticks to your gear with a fervent hold. To your skin, the paint, and blood, for the moment washed away as hands dragged you from the water, small puffs of breath and whimpers greeting you.

“C’mon, Sweetheart.” Hesh. And he sounded frantic. “C’mon, open…open your eyes, dammit. Please, you just told me the best thing you possibly could. Please.”

Water slips off your neck, and as you’re weakly lying back, propped against a rock, hands slip to your cheeks, moving the skin as a barely conscious body tries to make you wake up.

A forehead hits against your shoulder, a deep groan of pain emanating from the man who grips at your gear.

“No, no, c’mon,” Hesh can barely keep himself sitting up, bloody and broken. Logan had to drag him from the water not seconds prior, and in turn, Hesh had grabbed what little strength was left and helped him get you. “Logan!” Green darts to brown, and the older brother pleads in a broken voice, “Help me!”

You bend your head forward and cough up blood and water, shoving Hesh away from you so you can collapse on your side and expel your stomach.

“Harp,” the man quickly mutters, dragging himself over and grabbing your shoulder to keep your face out of the sand. “Fuck, okay—it’s okay I’ve got you.”

“You,” your voice cuts out, and you shake as you gasp and sputter, “A-are a fucking idiot!”

Hesh chuckles, and you feel his head hit off your arm, his struggling breath. “God, I know. I know, Sweetheart.”

Logan crawls over to you, pushing you back against the rock and grappling for his medical pouch as Hesh patches into the comms. You grunt and look down at the younger brother, head swirling in colors and ears pounding with your pulse.

“Merrick, do you copy? Merrick, come in.”

“Hesh! Hesh, is that you?” You weakly smirk at the shock and relief from the tone, letting your head tilt back as Logan hurriedly packs your gunshot wound with gauze. You wince and stare at the sky—blood infectiously tinging the sand below you.

Hesh tries to help too, but you and the man are in far worse shape than Logan. The older brother’s shoulder leans into yours heavily, and you shift your eyes to the side as they flutter.

You haven't forgotten what you told him, what you confessed, but right now pushing back the black in the sides of your vision was more important.

And Rorke. What had happened to Rorke?

“Yeah,” Hesh watches you, face screwed with concern. “Yeah, I’m with Harp and Logan. We’re…we’re alive. Rough shape, but alive.”

“And Rorke?” You hold your breath.

“Dead.” Logan ties off a quick tourniquet and your spine tightens in agony, hissing out as your nerves spike with electricity. The brown-eyed man spares you a sorry glance but you shake your head in dismissal. “He’s dead.”

Out in the water, the enemy warships are firing off missiles inland, some smoking and others already sinking. Merrick gives you the news as Hesh brings a hand up to your chin, tilting your head his way. You go willingly, skin on fire from the scrape of his gloves.

Logan moves back, having done what he can, before he collapses back into the sand, panting with an arm over his stomach. His older brother’s forehead bumps into yours, eyes stuck.

“Copy that. The Federation is in full retreat—the rest of the payload is inbound to finish the…”

Whatever else Merrick relays is lost and Hesh’s lips splay over yours, his nose letting out a long breath and body sagging, dead-weight. Cheeks hot and mind running, you let instinct take over and reciprocate, quick fingers pulling at his vest straps.

“Since when?” He asks, breathless when he moves back an inch.

“After you introduced me to your first girlfriend, Cassie Albrook,” you smile, eyes crinkling. “Seventh grade. The one with the black hair? God, I was so jealous.”

Hesh chuckles deeply, body jerking as he kisses you again, pulling back and holding your cheek in his hand. His eyes are wide and open.

“You mean to tell me, I could have been kissin’ you all the way back since seventh grade?” Your face moves with pure love, flesh going soft—even the pain diminishes somewhat.

Merrick’s voice still gruffly moves down the line, and the last bits of his sentence are heard.

“...Sit tight, Recon’s comin’ for ya.” Everything was looking up.

Missiles slam into the Federation ships out in the water, the sudden burst of liquid and fire making Hesh briefly cover you with his side to protect you from the shockwave. When you turn to look, nothing but sinking metal remains.

“I’m sorry,” Hesh tells you, and you don’t have the energy to pull away from his neck as you let your head rest—the thumping of your brain and the calming shadow of his form giving way to believe you had a concussion.

“Hm,” you hum, letting him continue. His voice echoed in his breast.

“I…I’ve been an ass these past few days, weeks, I shouldn’t have said what I did—wanted to take it back as soon as I turned away from you.” You close your eyes and sigh long, sarcastic even now.

“You owe me dinner and a movie, then I’ll see if I can forgive you.” Hesh chuckles, nose pressing down into your scalp. He kisses you there as water falls from his chin.

“Sounds like a plan, Doll.” The man lets himself rest, curled around you and waiting for the recon team as the sand and the water move. “I love you too…just so you know. Long time.”

Your failing mind lets off a scoff. But a happy one.

When you wake again, not remembering when you’d fallen asleep, it is to the sound of screaming.

“Logan!” You jolt up and have to place a hand on your head to stop the pounding. Hesh is struggling to move, fighting to get to his younger brother who you turn as quickly as you’re able to face. “Logan!”

Your face voids of blood.

Rorke is dragging the other man away, pushing him to the ground as Logan tries to fight like a dog on his back, with only one arm working properly. Growling, you try to stand—body falling and sliding right back down as Rorke kicks Logan’s combat blade from his hand, walking over to you and Hesh.

He stands and pants, limping from your shot to his foot and a hand across his abdomen in obvious pain.

“Look what you did,” Rorke motions behind him to the still-falling missiles being disposed of from space into the ocean; atop the wreckage of what Rorke had been a part of. Falling to your side, you leave behind a raging Hesh who attempts to move and get to Rorke while you go to Logan. The devil wheezes and points from you to the boys, forcing a grunt of approval. “You’re good.”

Hesh is shoved back by a ruthless boot into the rock, and you snarl, coming over to Logan and his very broken arm as he weakly writhes on the ground. You place your body over his and bare your teeth as if a beast.

“Rorke!” You bark. “It’s over! It’s done. Everything you’ve built is dead and recon is on its way for us…you’re finished.”

“Nothin’s finished, no,” Hesh tries to lunge again as Rorke’s body stumbles closer to you but falls into ragged coughs and stays on his side in utter agony.

“Stay away from them!” The man you’d just confessed to hisses, hand grasping futilely at the sand. Green eyes run back and forth from you to Logan, desperate and breaking by the second. “Rorke! You son of a bitch!”

“Nothin’s ever finished.” Grabbing you by the scruff of your neck, you’re being tossed off Logan and thrown to the side in a cloud of sand, body screaming at you as you yell out loudly.

Rorke bends a knee to look Logan in the eyes, shaking his head.

“You’d of been a hell of a Ghost.” Yelling, you wrench at the combat knife in your vest, set your feet, and tackle Rorke off of the Walker boy with a feral curse on your breath.

“Get the fuck off of—” Your leg twists with a defining crack as you’re grappled and thrown off, only able to slice a nice long cut down his jaw and at the beginning of the man’s throat.

Screaming you hear briefly Hesh’s rageful bellow, his calling of your name in high keens of helplessness. Promises of revenge and justice.

Breath breaking as tears line the back of your eyes, Rorke comes over you and pins your dominant hand to the ground—you look up and grimace, trying to make your body function.

Move!

Rorke laughs, great shoulders shaking with glee. He’s fucking demented as he continues his sentence from before your fruitless attack.

“...But that’s not gonna happen, is it?” The man smiles and you struggle as Logan and Hesh rapidly try to assist.

“Harp!”

“There ain’t gonna be any Ghosts.” Rorke’s eyes shift to Hesh, and you follow with a sense of dread and horror. The man’s mind had been made up when he turned back around, disregarding Logan entirely in favor of you and your ‘unbreakable’ loyalty.

The joy it would bring him to destroy you and set you loose after such. Set you loose on Hesh.

He leans in close to you, so you can feel his breath and his conviction.

“We’re gonna destroy ‘em together.”

“Harp!” You’re shoved back, knife grasped and ripped from your hand as your broken leg is grabbed and pressure is applied.

You scream again, arms carding across the dunes as Rorke begins dragging you backward like a child holding onto a stuffed toy. Blown green eyes meet yours, Hesh reaching out and screaming at the top of his lungs for you.

But he can’t move.

“Harp!”

And you can’t feel your fingers.

“I love you,” you whisper, perhaps for the last time and he sees your lips move. Hesh screams and slams his hand into the ground, Logan stumbling to his knees but immediately dropping back with a small cry.

And Rorke chuckles.

—

You don’t know where he took you, but you do know the jungle floor is cold and wet, and the mud under your fingernails makes you feel gross.

What you do know is that the earthen walls of the pit you are in are pointless to try to climb—the top is slatted with a covering of long sticks with wide square openings. You know it’s going to rain by the smell in your bloodied nostrils.

You know that your leg is broken, your bullet wound is festering through the tourniquet, and your concussion is making you sleepy.

In your head, you count these ‘knowns’ and sprinkle them like seeds as you stare blankly at the sky far above. Everything aches; hurts. When you breathe, it comes in and out with a wheeze.

You know that Hesh loves you, and perhaps that’s the only fact you care about. Wherever he is, you’re glad he can’t see you like this.

Rain patters against your head, the storm clouds finally rolling through. Leaves can be heard shuffling on their branches. You breathe in and out, rising and settling your lungs slowly.

You can’t break—not like Rorke.

No matter what he did to you, you can’t betray the Ghosts. Logan. Hesh.

Elias’s words echo as you curl into a tiny ball, shivering and whimpering as your wounds move and pull.

...I’m proud of you. And I’m sure your folks would be too.

You know this game. Torture. They’ll pump you full of hallucinogens, starve you, beat you within an inch of your life; and through that you cannot give in.

But it’s easier said than done.

In the middle of the night, the top of the pit is pushed away and there are the voices of multiple people that dance above the rain storm. They jump down and in the state you are, there’s nothing you can do to stop them from hooking their arms under yours and hauling you up, limp and motionless.

The words are in Spanish, and you still can make out some over the commotion and the way your hearing dips in and out.

“Where do we inject….”

“...neck, I believe…arm could work too…”

“...nasty…was it? I heard…mix of drugs…Who knows?”

Your head is harshly yanked back, and the sharp pinch of a needle digs into your neck, the action making your good leg kick out in panic but there’s little you can do.

A flood of thick fluid enters your veins and like sap seeping out of a tree some drops exit the wound and mix with the rain weighing down your clothes. They’d taken your gear, only your undershirt and cargo pants still clothing you.

When they’re done, they let you drop back to the floor, where you flop and smash your face into the mud with a weak drag of your cheek along the sludge. With calls from above, a rope is tossed down and they all ascend. The top is clattered back over moments later.

Laying still and groaning, teeth clenched, already you feel ten times more strange than before.

“Ah,” you grasp at your head, which was bursting to begin with, as it gains a looseness to it—the mud below you shimmered with puddles, the chill got colder, and your clothes felt grating against your skin. “Not good. N-not good.”

You pull at your shirt collar, coughing as your eyes bulge; your heart breaks itself as it immediately can be felt hammering into your ribcage far more sensitive than you’d ever experienced. It felt like your chest was going to rip open.

Panicked sounds emanate from the back of your throat, fingers digging into your scalp as the drugs carry their venom through your blood.

Your wounds blazed.

You start screaming, babbling for nothing, and pulling at your flesh, but the overhead striking of lightning leaves the desperation mute to all but the trees.

—

Hesh stares at you from the corner of the pit, but his eyes are not green. You watch, silent, barely moving, from where you curl into a tiny heap of bloodied flesh. You’d torn at your skin for days; time looped together with more injections and no food. Water you got from the sky.

They had offered soup, but you knew better even as you dug harsh lines into your neck. There were just more drugs in the broth.

But Hesh. Hesh.

He wasn’t right—didn’t stand like him, or breathe like him; there was something off about his smirk as he watched you gaze at him in an addled stupor.

“Feelin’ good over there, Kid?” Not Hesh. Not. Hesh.

You’re panting, your body sweating profusely in the humidity and so, so hungry.

Not Hesh takes a step forward and his image tilts like the turning of a page with Rorke taking his place, but as soon as it happens it flips back on itself to your Love.

“N-not right,” you hurriedly whisper.

Not Hesh puts a hand to his ear, kneeling down in front of you. “What was that, now?” A long chuckle. His voice is…is…deeper. Your eyebrows flinch up and down. “Who do you see, Sweetheart?”

“Hesh,” you whimper out. “Hesh, what are you talking about? What’s going on? I…I feel like I’m…I’m twisted inside out.”

“Hesh, huh?” The man looks to the side, smiling. “Well, that’s better than I expected. This’ll be fun.”

“W-what—” A fist connects with your face and you get catapulted into the wall. Before anything else, your stomach is kicked, making your call of alarm get forced out as a gasp as your clotted bullet wound reopens in a great tear. A large hand grips you hard by the chin, snapping it forward to stare into those wrong eyes but the familiar face of Hesh.

What was he doing to you?

“H…Hesh,” you can’t even stutter out his name before you break down into coughs and gagging; tears rolling down your cheeks, and blood and mud everywhere.

“Yeah, that’s right. You just keep lookin’ at me.” You dry heave and push at his hands, fingernails digging into his skin to create crescent moons. “Keep lookin’ at Hesh.”

—

It’s three months of the same, and you can’t go on anymore.

You lay in a near comatose state on the ground, flesh completely covered in mud and open wounds—maggots eat at your dead skin, wriggling deeper. Not having the heart to pick them out, or even move the few non-broken fingers you have, you lay in blank agony. Pain so deep you can’t scream or make a single noise. It would make it worse; it is making it worse.

Breathing is becoming a chore.

“Is today going to be the day?! God, I sure hope so.” Hesh looks down from over the edge, fiddling with another syringe of drugs. “Enough blood down there to make a fuckin’ painting out of. Shit…You lasted longer than I thought, Kid.” You don’t look at him. At his dark, wrong, eyes.

“I’m nearly impressed.” There’s a low chuckle and the crackling of branches.

You close your eyes and try to think of a single kiss and green eyes, but the rest of the image is tainted to you. Your mind can’t call it forward without the corruption of the puppet ahead of you, this shifting specter of mist and smoke.

Memories that used to bring you comfort call to fear and spine-curling hurt.

This couldn’t be Hesh, you told yourself for the millionth time, but…who else could it be? Your body was too broken to try and work through the hallucinations, to think or rationalize.

There’s a thump of boots and a grunt. Someone coming closer as birds speak far above. Singing. It's the first you can recall another living creature being this close to the smell of infected decay.

“Now, now, let’s see that neck of yours.” You’re seized and pushed onto your back, head lulling and eyes fluttering. Hesh’s image shifts and bends into another, one you should be able to name but can’t quite recall. It’s hard to focus. “Just one more, and we can fix this. Together. No more Ghosts, huh? We’ll make it right.”

Birds songs. Birds and flying shadows. Rapid wing beats like an eagle or the pound of paws on the ground.

There is an un-godly snarl and a call of rage.

“Rorke!” The dark-eyed Hesh snaps his head away, his needle stilling in his grip only inches from your flesh. He’s grappled and ripped away, thrown up and slammed down into a full-body jerk of pure strength not a second later with a cry of shock. “Get the fuck off of her!”

Shadows roll and wrestle, feral yowls like that of beasts bounce off your impaired hearing, mud stuck in your ears. You think your vision cuts out for a moment because the next there’s a different man gripping your shoulders, slightly shaking you back awake.

Blue eyes like the ocean. Your brow barely twitches in confusion.

Keegan?

“C’mon, that’s it. Right here.” A light is taken and directed right into your eye in the fading light. “You’re doin’ great, Harp. Just keep lookin’ at me.”

The light passes over your blood-coated eyes and barely diolates. Keegan’s lips under his balaclava thin to an alarming degree.

“Fuck,” he grunts, looking down at you before he darts his vision over to Hesh, the actual Hesh, who’s locked limbs with the former Ghost; fists to guts and primal anger.

In his haste to get to you, Hesh had damned himself—he’d left no opening for any of the others to get a clean shot at Rorke. But no one could blame him, even if it was reckless; incredibly stupid.

The man had been on your trail nearly every day since you’d been taken. Barely sleeping, eating little. A man possessed.

The Ghosts had been half convinced something had taken over his image and scooped out his personality.

“Merrick,” Keegan patches into the secure line, looking back down at you. “Positive ID on HVT, three klicks West. Hesh has engaged—we found Harp.”

There’s an instantaneous response, worried breath. “Solid copy…how’s she doing?”

“We need MedEvac immediately. She won’t last another night.” There’s a curse on the other end, a loud and quick call to the rest of his squad.

“Copy! I’ll call it in!” Keegan tries to stabilize you as Hesh and Rorke rip each other to shreds, and Hesh, who had the upper hand in the beginning, is quickly losing it.

“Awe, look who tracked ‘er down!” Rorke snatches at Hesh’s collar and lays two jabs to his ribs—there’s a definitive crack as the younger man shouts in pain. “Young love! So fucking pointless.”

“I’m going to rip you into pieces,” Hesh bares his teeth, eyes wild and unrestrained. For a moment Rorke looks taken aback by the utter conviction in his green gaze. “And make you choke on your own damn teeth! You hear me?!”

Ripping away with a tear of fabric, Hesh bends low and tackles the former Ghost to the ground, splaying him out on his back before his fist is snapped back and brought down; again and again and again.

“Hesh!” Keegan shouts, pressing deeply into your wounds and trying to give you fluids with one hand. “This fucking kid.” The Sergeant gives up, shaking his head.

Trust had to be given, and Keegan knew that at this moment he had to trust Hesh to hold his own. He needed to keep you conscious.

“Easy, Harp.” You can feel the cracks in your dry throat as the water seeps past them, and you cough up droplets before the blue-eyed Sergeant tilts your head and helps you. “Easy, Sweetheart.”

Keegan doesn’t even want to look at your body as the brutal sounds of a fist on bone continue, clothes scuffling and gargled breaths—the savagery and barbarous remnants of mental and physical torture too much even for him.

“Christ,” he hisses.

You gulp down water slowly and let it fill your stomach like a brick.

Hesh reduces Rorke’s face to a mess of flesh and busted bone, sweating and not even stopping as his knuckles split under his gloves or his fingers dislocated from their sockets. His eyes burn, his face goes red—he looks insane.

He looks like a spirit of utter revenge.

Only when Logan and Merrick drag him off the spasming body does he stop, but not after he tries like hell to fight out of that hold as well. Whipping around, he attempts to land a punch on Merrick before Logan is forced to put him in a restraint hold.

Hesh’s cheek meets the mud, face being sunk into it as his right arm is twisted so far behind his back it nearly breaks. The older brother growls, free arm and legs moving—back sliding.

“David!” Merrick barks at him, face pulled in a sneer, enraged at the man’s lack of sense. “Shut this shit down. Look at her, dammit!” Logan gets bucked off, but the youngest Walker boy has enough sense to wrestle him back down and grab onto his chin; forcing those green eyes to lock on you and Keegan.

The second he sees you, he entirely freezes.

Merrick sighs out harshly, jogging over to you and already checking in with the MedEvac that Kick’s flying in. There would be no resistance—all the other hostiles were dead.

“Jesus Christ,” the Commander breathes, kneeling by you instantly and studying your body.

Hesh’s reaction is slower, but the spread of vile tears burns the back of his eyes. Logan lets him go at seeing this, standing and holding out a hand, but the brunette stays on the ground a moment longer; utterly still.

Hesh’s mouth opens and closes.

All at once he’s rushing over and limping up at your side as Merrick grabs more medical supplies from his packs to help you.

“Oh my God,” Hesh breathes, and Keegan sends him a glance. You’d drank all of the water. “Harp, hey, you’re going to be okay—it’s gonna be alright, you hear? I’m right here, Logan and I are gonna get you home. Back to California, okay? Riley’s waitin’ for you, Doll.”

You flinch at that voice, and Merrick looks sharply at the blue-eyed Sergeant. Their eyes lock, holding for a long moment. Logan’s brows tighten in confusion.

The brunette seems not to notice it at all, hands finding your cheek before Merrick can give him a warning. Your eyes slowly shift to him before they peel back with fear.

Hesh’s vision goes glossy, clenching his jaw. “Shit, what did he do to you—”

“Hesh!”

You yell and yerk back, shoving the man off of you with a fear-filled sob.

“No!” Keegan and Merrick grapple to keep you down, not wanting to aggravate your wounds as Hesh falls to his ass, hands slapping behind him before he hisses and brings them back up. He blinks quickly in confusion and panic.

Logan rushes over and hides him from your view, beginning to understand what was going on.

“No!” You call again, Keegan having to hold your head into his chest to hide you away. Merrick yells down his comms to hurry the Helo up, and that he doesn’t care about anything else. “No,” your voice gargles off as you sob into Keegan. “Please, no more.”

“Shh,” the Sergeant mutters, looking over his shoulder at a pale and shaking Hesh. “Nothin’s going to happen to you. Not anymore.”

“Harp,” Hesh whispers, jaw slackened. “I…I don’t…”

“Hallucinogens,” Merrick says grimly, watching you shake and wail. Logan has to look away, his fists clenching. “Who knows what she’s seen. Reckon it wasn’t anything good.”

It’s like he doesn’t hear anything besides your cries. Whenever you gasp Hesh tenses as if he wants to run to you—comfort you the best way he knows how.

Hallucinogens? He thinks and feels tears dribble down his cheeks as he blinks, rubbing at his jaw and shakily placing a hand over the back of his neck. Logan puts a heavy grip on his shoulder, weighing them down even more.

—

Rorke’s death should have been a time of celebration—of honoring the fallen. Elias Walker, Ajax, and countless others. The Federation was nothing more than broken factions now. Dust to the wind.

But no one can celebrate when they’re trying to fix one of their own.

You were being kept in the secure medical ward under twenty-four-hour surveillance and around-the-clock care; only Keegan was allowed in, seeing as you were the closest to him outside of Logan and Hesh and had no adverse effects to his presence.

Merrick had said he didn’t want to risk Logan going in, as it might worsen things. Hesh was taking it hard.

He just got you back, how was this right? How was it fair that you’d had to go through that right when it was supposed to be over and done with? The man got sick over it, thinking about what Rorke had done to…break your mind like he had.

Two months.

Two months of nightmares plaguing him, of your eyes when you looked at him. If Hesh had just been stronger, then that bastard would never have dragged you away on that beach. He resulted in working out more, running laps around Fort Santa Monica with Riley at three in the morning—he grew bags under his eyes. He grew quiet.

When all of his broken ribs and fingers healed, the artificial wounds, he was offered awards for taking down Rorke; even a summon by the President.

He’d denied all of them.

If a medal was going to get you better faster, he’d have taken them in an instant. But he wasn’t that stupid. Hesh was withering, and everyone saw it. He loved you more than anything—more than fame or recognition. The man lay awake at night fearing that you were too cold or uncomfortable in the far-off ward, he was paranoid about your safety.

More often than not, the nurses found him and Riley fitfully sleeping outside of your door on the hard ground, arm used as a pillow. They didn’t have the heart to move him.

In the last two weeks before the third month of your isolation and evaluations, in his nighttime routine, Hesh finds your door open.

He stares at it now with a blank expression, fatigue once burning his eyes all gone for a deep and pounding panic. With a hand gesture, Riley halts and sits, and, sensing his handler’s mood, lets his ears go straight up in attention.

Hesh reaches for the gun in the back of his pants, peeling it out slowly and taking a nearly silent step forward. Ready, his ears strain for a sound…but there is none.

His free hand reaches for the door, the short sleeves of his gray sleep-shirt bunching. A moment later, he lightly taps the barrier farther out before entering the room with the gun drawn.

He said he wouldn’t get distracted, but it would be a lie to say his eyes didn’t immediately go to you.

You were there, asleep, curled up on the far recliner chair instead of the bed. Head lulled to the side and knees kept close to your chest. But it was the scars that broke Hesh.

They were large and long—on your face and arms; legs. All moving and stretching like a child’s drawing up your sleep shorts and shirt, disappearing only to reappear somewhere else. Healed over but still fresh.

Hesh drops the gun and turns his body slightly away, staring at the side wall before he takes an unsteady breath. He re-hides his weapon and turns to leave, not seeing anyone else.

Maybe Keegan had forgotten to close the door…he’d have to chew him out for that. Already a dull point of anger was making his jaw clench at the sly older man.

“Bastard,” Hesh mutters.

Before he can exit and close the door softly behind him, he hears a broken squeak of alarm. He halts as you stare heavily into his back—awoken by the sound of nearly silent feet. In a steady motion, the man’s hands are by his sides, open and visibly holding nothing.

“I was just leaving,” Hesh whispers, not looking at you. His heart hammers. “I’m sorry, I thought someone else was in here—the door was open, okay?”

Your hands twitch, body still and breath held tight.

“Hesh?” He flinches, eyes closed tight.

Don’t look at her. Don’t turn around. Leave.

“Are you really…him?” You ask silently, eyes darting nervously around the room and quickly waking up fully.

It’s a moment before he answers you.

“Yeah,” he forces out, voice tiny and sad. “Yeah, it’s me, Doll. Just David Walker.”

Your throat bobs with a thin swallow. Treatment was still ongoing, but it’s not every day you wake up to find the man who you had nightmares about standing in your room.

Breathe, you have to remind yourself. It was the drugs. Not Hesh. Never Hesh. Rorke.

But you were still scared.

“I…I need to see your eyes,” you say.

Hesh turns carefully, staring hard at the floor. His heart lurches, hands going clammy.

What if she has a setback? He asks himself. What if I mess this up…Shit, Hesh, you couldn’t have minded your own business?

Oh, but he never could when it came to you.

“Then look at me, Sweetheart.” The man breathes slowly, darting his eyes up to your face. “They only belong to you.”

But your gaze can’t slip to his sockets, only able to glare fearfully into his neck. But this Hesh felt different, more like the one you grew up with—those memories still coming back but tainted; you need to see green, but it was hurting you to think that you might not.

“I’m scared,” you admit, shakily. The man’s thighs tense, but he stops himself before he can go and take you into his arms. That wouldn’t help. “I’m…I don’t know what’s real anymore.”

“I’m real. I swear to you, Harp, I’m real. I’m right here and I’ll wait for you as long as it takes. Even if it’s years, I will always be right here.” He pleads, hands still at his sides and going nowhere if you don’t tell him to. It’s like a floodgate opens, months of internal pain and heartbreak spilling out. You needed to know this, even if he never got to see you again.

“I have loved you since I saw you get jealous over Cassie Albrook in seventh grade and tried to hide it because you thought she made me happy—she could never make me happy, Harp. That was you. That was always and will always be you. I…I can’t breathe when you’re not near me, I don’t know how to act right when you’re hurt. Seeing you hurting is…is…” Hesh’s voice breaks and he falls silent.

“Please, if you need to look into my eyes, I’m beggin’ you, Sweetheart, please, do it. Even if it’s only one glance.” Your breath is stuck in your throat, tears welling and sliding down your cheeks.

In your skull your brain pounds, bordering on hysteria and an urge to flee. There was so little that you trusted anymore. Keegan, yes—the nurses and doctors? You had no choice there.

You knew that the Hesh you’d seen in the pit was Rorke, Keegan had explained it all to you after the drugs had been pumped from your system; you understood that part. But it didn’t make the sickening confusion any better.

Symptoms of severe PTSD, paranoia, anxiety—you’d seen the charts when the nurses thought you weren’t looking at them.

You still wouldn’t let anyone with a needle anywhere close to you, had to be put under for it.

But you’d been so lonely here. A simple kiss seared into your mind before the horror set in, a stain of a smile on your lips. A chest vibrating with a content purr.

Hesh. You want your Hesh back.

Taking a stuttering breath, your eyes dart upwards. You push through your misty gaze and lock on a color that can only be described as a grassy field of verdant growth. Great open plains of viridescent being—showing you a world bathed in tender belonging.

Home.

You sob and rush from the chair on legs that still hurt even now, meeting Hesh in the middle as he takes a step forward and wraps his arms around you. You’re covered and kept in a hold so tight it’s like he’ll never let you go, heart pounding and his face loose with shock.

But he says nothing beyond a loud shuttered exhale of relief, pressing you to his chest and burying his face into your scalp, breathing you in; taking you down like a sinner in church until all that remains is you. Your fingers digging into his shirt, your face in his neck, how you call his name as if calling a ghost back from the dead.

“Oh, my Girl.” Hesh chuckles through the tears in his eyes. “My Girl. I missed you so much, you won’t even believe it.”

You push yourself into him tighter.

Riley, at some point, had come to stand in the doorway, his dark beady eyes seeing only the colors in gray, brown, yellow, and blue, though that never truly mattered. Color was only half of the picture.

And the rest of the image in front of him was seeped with the pigment of love.

The dog’s tongue lulls from the side of his mouth, and in the air behind him, his tail moves back and forth into a soft arch.

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