#both because Anxiety and because I don't feel like it's physically possible to have a valuable convo in 45 min given everything | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jarofstyles · 5 months ago

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The Favor 9

Hey... Sorry it took me a minute. I've decided this is definitely not the only club scene for them because there's a lot I want t explore with them. Part of me wants to apologize for adding so much in but I hope you guys love them as much as I do!!! They are one of my all time favorite pairings to write.

Also don't worry Im working on getting rid of Danny lol

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WC- 10.2k

Warnings- dom/sub dynamic, BD/SM, Exhibitionism, voyeurism, degrading, choking, sir/daddy kink, pet/puppy nicknames, name calling, slight Mean Dom H mixed with soft Dom tbh, tiny bit of humiliation kink, aftercare is in the next part I promiseeeee

Y/N was buzzing in her own skin.

So much was happening in her brain that it felt borderline overwhelming. She stood in Harry’s bathroom looking into the mirror with her hands on her face, just to confirm that she was, in fact, a real person.

The night prior had been intense. A lot, but in a good way. Something had shifted between them, as she suspected, but neither of them were truly ready to talk about it. Harry was instead, a lot more affectionate which… to be honest, she hadn’t expected. It was a glorious change, feeling his hands or eyes on her whenever she was in a room with him. He’d had her sit on his lap while he proof read something on his laptop, his hand stroking over her stomach and underneath one of his shirts that he’d put on her after their bath the night before. There was no urgency to talk, Y/N leaning her head on his shoulder and relaxing into the warm, fresh smell of the man she was so connected to whilst scrolling on her phone. He’d made them breakfast and ordered them lunch, but she had noticed a distinct lack of kissing.

It made her wonder if she pushed a bit last night, asking for one. Somehow she doubted it considering he had been the one giving her kisses the last few weekends together, but there was a weird seed of dread in her stomach that reminded her that at some point the weekend would be over and the warm place she had in the pool of Harry’s warmth would dry up and she’d need to come back up for air. To go through the week without seeing him, except maybe for a lunch, when she had grown so needy for his mere presence. He was attentive even when they weren’t physically around, more than the man she had called her boyfriend, but it still didn’t feel like enough. As weird and freaky as it sounded, she wanted to crawl under his skin somehow. Get as close as possible.

Tonight they’d be going to the sex club. Something she was both excited and nervous about, the weird feeling in her chest making her wonder which one outweighed the other. Harry had communicated very clearly that this first visit was going to be rather tame- or, as tame as a sex club visit could be. They’d watch a scene he had pre chosen, a voyer couple in a room open to exhibitionists. Before that, they’d mingle and he would introduce her to some of his friends he had there.

One thing she wasn’t too sure about though, was getting too close to anyone he had played with before. Y/N, while not historically jealous, found her skin crawling with ants at the idea of having to be around someone else who knew how he tasted, how he looked when he came. Sure, he wasn’t officially hers, but it felt like it more than she cared to admit. That had added on to her anxiety but it wasn’t something she wanted to openly admit to him yet, so she kept it under wraps for the time being.

He’d done something nice for her and got her a dress. A cute little thing, lacy and white. A sweetheart neckline and strapless, she was hoping the strapless bra was going to do its job- but then again, she kind of hoped maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe he had chosen the dress for ease of access. The idea of him slipping down the top and playing with her in front of other people had her wet the moment she thought about it.

Her panties, though, were noticeably missing in the ensemble. When she asked about them, his smirk had rose on his lips. “Who said you were getting any?”

So all in all, she was a complete and utter wreck of hormones and anxiety.

Freshly showered, she had fixed her hair and sat staring at herself with her makeup half done. Another of the dominant’s shirts hung off her shoulders. He had a vanity that was cleared of anything but her stuff, which was nice, but another flare of jealousy had worked its way through her. Who else had used this vanity for this exact thing? Who else had been getting ready for him to take them to the club to play with them in the way that was so uniquely Harry?

It was no right of hers to be jealous or possessive when she was still in a relationship, though it was one she was having her doubts about. Her phone remained empty of any texts from him. The longer he put it off, the less she cared about what he had to say. Anger wasn’t really there considering Harry had been giving her plenty of attention, but still. Her brain was craving the quiet only the Dominant had managed to give her.

“Alright?” His sudden appearance made her squeal, jumping in her chair. Clutching her ever beating heart, she looked at him wide eyed in the reflection. Where the fuck had he come from and how long had he been there?

“Fucks sake, H.” She wheezed. “You need some sort of bell or something. How long have you been standing there?” Where she expected a laugh, she got none. His brows furrowed and his lips pursed, he turned the chair towards him and lifted a hand to tilt her head up. “For a minute or two. I was waiting for you to notice but…” Eyes scrutinized her face. “You’re nervous.”

There wasn’t much she could hide from him. To be fair, she hadn’t planned on it, but it was still annoying, borderline unsettling on how he could read her like an open book. “A little. It’s not a big deal though.”

“We don’t have to go yet, if you aren’t ready. We don’t have to go at all.” His voice was soft as he kept his face placid, clearly trying not to sway her either way. It was yet another confirmation to her that he actually did give a fuck about her well being.

The idea of not going at all, though, made her shake her head rapidly. Wouldn’t that mean they would cut off their arrangement? As selfish as it was, she couldn’t give him up yet. She couldn’t give up the orgasms and the kisses and the praise, just as much as she didn’t want to give up the daily texts and jokes and pictures of Buttons when she was back at her own place. “No! It’s just, it’s a little intimidating. That’s all.” She sighed, leaning into his hand. That seemed to soften him a bit, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip as he tried to gage her.

“What about it has got you intimidated?”

It felt oddly good having him standing over her, petting at her. His gaze soft, looking down at her as he tried to make her feel comfortable but undeniably in control of the situation. Of her.

“You know people there, mostly. But the whole thing. I know we’ve gone over what we’re doing but it feels bigger the closer we get there. Y’know?” She puckered her lips over the pad of his thumb, watching as his smile tipped the corner of his lips. These tiny acts of intimacy were going to be the ones that ruined her. “I’m very excited. It’s what I’ve wanted, you know? And I kinda think that makes me put more pressure on the expectation.”

Harry hummed in his throat, nodding along to her observations. It made logical sense and she knew it, but seeing him agree made her feel a little better. Maybe she wasn’t overreacting after all.

“It is intimidating. It's taboo, in a way. Something that’s going to shock your system. You don’t go many places with people being so open sexually around you. It isn’t so blatant until the shows start, but even then. It’s the sort of stuff you're used to fantasizing about, and to see it right in front of you can be a lot to take in. Seeing people on leashes, or full body spandex, masks, all of that. It’s new to you, so I expect it to be intimidating to you. But may I offer you a few pieces of advice?”

Y/N would lick his shoes if he asked in the right tone of voice, so she nodded. She wondered if she would get away with it, and his eyes did narrow, but he chose to let it go.

“The only person I’m going to be focusing on when we go is you. I have some friends, yes, and I’d like you to meet them and their submissives, but I’m not expecting you to make best friends at the first meeting.” He started, ever so slowly pushing his thumb into her mouth. Testing the waters. Like second nature, she began to suck lightly on the tip of it as he continued talking, the tip of her tongue brushing the pad of his finger. “But the real advice I have is to let go. Let me control the night. I’ve got you, I’ve got everything you need to do up in my head. All you’ve got to do is follow directions. If I tell you to say hello? Say hello. If I don’t, you don’t. If I tell you to sit on my lap, you sit there. Tell you to get on your knees, you do it. If I tell you to suck my cock, you do it. Because everyone else there is doing the same thing, if not, they’re there to watch it happen. There’s nothing you need to worry that pretty little head about.” His eyes darkened slightly as she took his thumb a little further into her mouth, blinking up at him. “Okay? Daddy’s got you.”

Somehow it worked. Some of that anxiety melted away, realizing he was fully serious. All she needed to do was listen to him. That was the backbone of all of this.

“You’re in control. You’ve got the power to color out, you’ve got the boundaries and I’m just there to make sure you’re tended to properly. Remember what I said, hm? Me being in control is only because you allow me to be.”

That had been something she learned more and more as the time passed by with him. As incredible as it felt to have him be in charge, she had the ultimate say so. She could color out at any moment. There was no reason not to trust him because he had never given her a reason not to.

“Your safe word isn’t just for sex, either. Anything you want to stop tonight, you tell me. I know you’ll be good and remember that, but I just need to remind you before you hand yourself over to me. I will never be disappointed or angry because you need a break, or you don’t want to do something. I care about you a lot more than I care about nutting off or showing off to people.”

In truth, Harry would never forgive himself if something happened and she ever felt unsafe with him. It was a team effort, yeah, but he did think he was good enough at reading her that he would be extremely upset if he didn’t predict something like that. Y/N did run a bit anxious sometimes. He’d been able to get her to a point where she completely let go for him, and he wanted to repeat that pattern over and over until the weight that she felt on her shoulders lessened. As strong as the woman was, he wanted to help take some of it on his own back.

His thumb pulled from her mouth with a soft ‘pop’, the dominant ignoring the whimper and smearing the sweetness of her saliva over her chin. It was the world’s highest honor to see her eyes round out for him, to watch her track his every moment like the eager pet she had proven to be for him. Knowing she wanted to please him made him feel more powerful, more fulfilled, than he had been in a very long time. Showing her off was something he had been more than looking forward to doing, but there wouldn’t have been any use in doing it if she wouldn’t feel equal enjoyment. “Are we okay, Sweets?”

“Yeah.” She sighed, the sigh exhaling against his damp finger. “I gotta finish getting ready though. You have my outfit picked out on the bed?”

“I do.” He nodded, lightly fingering a loose tendril of hair that brushed her cheek. “And you’ll be wearing that black peacoat over it. Should keep you nice and warm.” Tilting her chin up, he placed one of the first kisses of the evening on her pouty lips before smoothing his thumb back over her mouth. “You’ve got time, darling. Don’t worry.”

—--

Y/N felt marginally better as she held on to his hand, clinging for dear life on his wrist with the other as they waited at the front entrance.

There had been quite a lot she expected from a club dedicated to kink. Karma was as sensual and mysterious as ever, but the front of a closed hair salon letting them in had been a shock to the system. If she hadn’t known any better, she would have thought Harry had lost his mind until he opened the back room door and exposed an entirely different aesthetic. A black and gold elevator, black marble floor and red curtained walls. That had to be a bitch to dust.

With a key card, he placed it on the gold plated button pad and it opened for them to step inside. Now that she was in the elevator she could hear some music, some people, but nothing she could have ever expected from the street view. Privacy was very important to them, as she could tell. “They’re going to put our phones and my keys into the locker and we’ll get them on the way out. It’s for everyone’s privacy, but there are staff in there to ensure you have an out if you need it.” Unwinding their fingers, his grip changed to her jaw to tilt it up to look at him. The casual dominance had her knees weak. How did he manage to do it so seamlessly? “We’re gonna check out coats, and then we’ll go in. You are safe with me, Pet.” His tone was gentle, reminding her again how he had been the best thing to wander into her life. There was no saying shit just to say it. The man wanted to assure her, drill it into her brain, that he was completely here for her and everything they did was because she wanted to do it.

As intimidating as it was, she swallowed the lump around her throat and gave him a nod before allowing him to take her coat off. Standing in front of a hostess and the man who worked the coat check in her little outfit had made her a little stiff at first, but the moment she heard the quiet curse under his breath, their opinions didn’t matter.

He had chosen a maroon babydoll for her to wear tonight. Satin cups clung over her breasts while it transferred to a tight knit mesh-like material that flowed over her body and hit her upper thighs. The panties had been a bit of a different choice, rather simple silk ones with lace trim. She’d expected lace, a g string, something else but they were really nice. It wasn’t overtly sexual, but it made her feel sexy as she had tugged them up her thighs and settled the waistband on her hips. The outfit had surprised her a little considering she had thought maybe he’d want her to wear something completely form fitting or restrictive, like spandex or leather, but instead he’d gone with something more flowy and light. Maybe he was starting them soft for the first time, but it was the sexiest she had felt so far in her life.

“You look incredible.” He mumbled, placing the coat numbers on the counter with their phones and his keys. “Fuck me.” Lithe fingers traced over the straps, the feather light touch stopping at the necklace he’d chosen for her tonight. A simple gold chain with a heart. At first she had thought he would give her one of those collars, but she wasn’t sure how that worked.

“I was going to give you the one with my first initial, but I was saving that.” The admission made her eyebrows raise. Why hadn’t he done that? “I wanted to ease you into it, and for some reason you’ve been turnin’ me into a possessive son of a bitch. Wasn’t sure I’d be able to keep composure if it was on there like that… But I don’t think that matters too much now, anyway.”

Harry had always known he was attracted to Y/N in otherworldly, almost inappropriately intense ways. While he could be a jealous man, he hadn’t felt it to this degree. Irritated that she didn’t have his name on her neck or a traditional sign of ownership. He was a weak man when it came to her, but he didn’t mind when he could see her preen slightly over his words. The one thing that was soothing his inner caveman was the fact that she had marks from him on her body. Love bites blooming from the swell of her left breast and one he’d sucked on the right side of her neck, a few little bruises from his fingers digging into her hips… They were little badges of honor.

He’d caught her this morning, admiring them in the foggy mirror. He’d come to bring a fresh towel before she got into the shower and watched quietly as she ran her fingers over the marked skin, the tiniest little smile on her lips that made his cock twitch. If they hadn’t had plans to come here tonight he would have bent her over the counter and gave her more. That silent appreciation at the tiniest hints of ownership meant more than she would ever know.

“I can wear it next time.” She peeped, meeting his eyes. “I like this one too, but… I like the other idea.”

The silence was loud for a moment as he observed her, the admission making her look a little flustered. Every day it seemed they were slipping into something far more serious than they’d set out to, but the unspoken words lingered under their tongues. It wasn’t the right time to discuss. “Noted.” Thumbing over her chin, he nodded at her before tucking the tickets from the coat check into the pocket of his pants. “Come on then, Pet. Let’s have a look.”

—-

Y/N’s eyes were wide as they took in the vast room around her.

Holy fuck. Harry hadn’t been kidding about it shocking her system.

His hand held the back of her neck as she was guided towards the bar, where she was warned didn’t sell any actual alcohol for safety reasons. It matched and exceeded her expectations upon first glance.

The stage was set up with some sort of bench, but it was obvious they’d come before the show had begun. People milled about, laughing and talking as if nothing abnormal was happening- like the woman in her all spandex dress chatting to the bartender, drink in one hand and chain in the other. Connected to the other end of the chain was a man on his knees for her, leather mask covering everything but his eyes and mouth. Not far from her in a booth across the way, a man had a woman on his lap with his hand down her top, playing with her tits and keeping a conversation.

It wasn’t extreme, no, but it had her a bit spooked. Even more so when she looked to the side and saw a girl on her knees and her face buried under another woman’s dress. So he hadn’t been kidding- it really did happen anywhere.

Heat flushed over her chest as she averted her gaze, blinking rapidly as she tried to calm her heart. It wasn’t a bad thing, she didn’t think, because she could feel herself becoming excited. Just a walk through and she was warm in her tummy, feeling that anticipation climbing all the way up her throat. She had to wonder what Harry was going to surprise her with tonight.

“Alright?” He mumbled, turning to face her as they approached the bar. The promise of a sweet, sugary mocktail had been enticing but now her curiosity was wanting to take over. “It’s not too bad, is it?”

“No, Sir.” She shook her head, meeting his eyes. The hand on the back of her neck gave a subtle squeeze, pulling her a little closer. “It’s… I’m curious to see what else goes on, but I think it’s interesting.”

“A lot of things are happening in the rooms. The main stage show isn’t anything too extreme, but the rooms are different theaters on this level, and playrooms on the top level.” The split level was apparent to her now, reminding her a bit of a hotel lobby she’d stayed at once on holiday. Rooms surrounding the top with a walkway that looked down while the bottom was an open concept until it split into four hallways. The place was truly beautiful, albeit a bit intimidating. “What did you want to drink?”

Y/N looked over the menu with curious eyes, smiling lightly when she saw someone had made a plethora of fruity and sweet concoctions modeled after bubblegum, blue raspberry, cherry, all sorts of stuff. There were more tame things, pina colada and mint julep, but considering she was experimenting tonight she chose something she normally wouldn’t. “Can I have the cotton candy one, Sir?”

“You may, yes.” The subtle correction had her face flushing for a moment, but she could see he was teasing a little from the dimple threatening to break on his face. God, he was so gorgeous.

It was always apparent that Harry was handsome, but seeing him like this was a whole different experience. His shoulders were bigger, back straighter, a more controlled and poised version of him was at the helm. Was this his best self? Being a dominant, taking and guiding her? He’d said multiple times he liked taking care of people, liked being in charge, so it must feel really good to have her eyes on him at all times.

When she’d brought up that she’d read a lot about people in her books had dominants that preferred them to avert their eyes, but he’d scoffed at it. In opposition, he’d told her to keep her eyes on him at most times. Joked about it soothing a bit of his ego, but she wasn’t sure how much of it was really a joke at this point. Either way, there would be no complaints about that when the man looked as good as him. Sharp jaw and nose, dark lips, eyelashes that pissed her off because they were so pretty… The man had a way about him that reminded her of classical art.

When the bartender came over he was greeted with a smile, which he reciprocated with a small one of his own before ordering her the drink she wanted and himself some sort of iced tea thing. She had no clue, considering she was a little busy zoning out. His hand had started to subtly massage the back of her neck and her eyes had glazed over a bit, being pressed into his side making the scent of him increasingly soothing. Perhaps he was doing it for that exact reason, but that was why he was in charge. He knew what to do to calm her nerves.

As soon as the bartender walked away, he turned back towards her. “And how are you feeling?” Eyes dipping over her body, Y/N swallowed as she knew exactly what he was talking about- and why he looked so damn smug.

He’d helped her put a plug in before they left. The smallest one, but it had still worked her up a significant amount. There had been something weirdly erotic knowing that he would know why she was shifting around. Trying anal for the first time the night prior had been a mind meltingly good experience, making her even more eager to try new things. It had always been a fantasy of hers, but she hadn’t realized just how good it would feel. How full and connected she would be with it- but again, that was possibly just a Harry thing. He had made the simplest thing far more pleasurable.

“Good.” She nodded, watching his eyes linger on her breasts. He’d spent time after their sex last night kissing on them in appreciation, letting his lips hover over the marks before he lotioned over her body. Physical touch had to be his top love language, she had deduced. “I, um… It feels weird when I walk. But not bad, Sir.”

“Mmm, I know. You’re walking a bit differently, but you’ll grow used to it. Even more so, I think you’re going to learn to love it.” Adjusting the strap that seemed to be slipping down her shoulder continuously, he let his touch linger. “You’re going to be my good girl and let everyone see how perfect you are, aren’t you?” The tone of his voice dropped into a deeper one, her body reacting to it as she leaned into his touch. “I can’t decide if I want you perched on my lap all night, or if I want you on your knees in front of me.” Clicking his tongue, he shook his head. “Decisions, decisions.”

“Whatever you’d like me to do, Sir.” She replied, though there was no true preference. Y/N was aiming to please tonight, subconsciously feeling the pressure to prove she could be a good submissive for him.

“Oh, I know, pet. You don’t have a choice in that.” He laughed under his breath. “Precious girl. Don’t you worry about a thing. I’ll tell you to sit and speak like my good Pup, alright? You just stick to me.”

Y/N a few months ago would probably try to fight his words and the condescending tone because that was what was expected of her. Y/N a few months ago would ignore her body when it reacted to those words. Y/N now, though, let her eyes widen and simply agreed, because deep down that’s what she’s been wanting to do.

When the drinks arrived, her eyes widened at how pretty it was. A soft pink with some sort of glittery shimmer in the drink, the movement of the liquid catching the light. It was by far the most beautiful drink she’d ever seen in her life, and she didn’t want to waste a drop. Holding it in her hand, she let Harry wrap up with the bartender before turning back to her with a new look on his face. “C’mon, it’s time t’say hi to some people. Best behavior.” With a slight pinch to her chin, he led her off.

Harry’s familiarity was evident in how easily he navigated the club. Winding through people with polite nods and greetings, he radiated the now familiar air of power. It was a little different here, though. While he always held the power in the bedroom, there was something that had snapped on his face when they walked in the room that had her ever curious about his past experiences here. Experiences she wouldn’t ask about for her own sake of delicate feelings, but things that he must have done, said, experienced in this secret cove of underground pleasures.

Yes, it was a bit whips and chains-y, but there was a classy layer to it that she liked here. The weird feeling of belonging settled in her gut as his hand squeezed the back of her neck, keeping her close as they approached a slightly elevated section. Her mind was going a million miles a minute, taking in every bare tit, every collar, every hand wrapped in hair and laugh in the room as he led her up towards their destination that she had almost missed it completely.

Thankfully she caught herself as Harry gently urged them to a stop right in front of a booth full of people. Semi circular, the tabletop was a bit far from the booth itself- but it was clear why as she looked down at the people.

There were two people on their knees of their perspective dominants. A brunette with her cheek resting on a blonde woman’s knee, fingers brushing through her dark hair and sparkling nails catching the light as she did so had particularly caught her eye. Instead of a tight outfit like the domme at the bar, she had on a powersuit. Her eyes didn’t look down towards her submissive though giving her physical attention, sharp hazel eyes looking over Y/N like a examination.

“Isn’t she delicious, Styles?” She purred, cat like grin painting her red lips. “Who is she? I know you’ve been gone for a bit… is she why?” The woman seemed pleased at the prospect of Harry having a new submissive, even if she looked at her like she could eat her for lunch. Her face felt hot as she looked up at Harry, the ghost of a smirk on his face.

“She is.” The confirmation had the people at the table grinning which caught her a bit off guard. They didn’t know she was temporary and he seemed in no rush to tell them- and neither was she. Maybe they could play pretend here, like she was really his and he wanted to keep her for good. The first of many times they’d come together for as long as they felt so inclined. “This is Y/N. She’s been a wonderful little pet for me. My favorite.” A hand fondly ran over her hair, a little smile on his lips now as he was happy to show her off. “She’s a little new to this, but very eager to learn. So tread lightly, yeah?”

For some reason the information being told didn’t offend her. Maybe if someone else here seemed like it was funny to them, if they’d scoffed, did anything but look understanding she would feel that shame, but they didn’t. They simply nodded, letting Harry slip into the end of the booth. “On my lap for now, Pet.” He patted his thigh, holding his ringed hand out for her to take.

Y/N could feel eyes on her as she nodded, a quiet ‘yes sir’ leaving her lips as she was adjusted over his lap, legs over his thighs as he wound his arm around her waist to keep her body steady. “Say hello.” The words weren’t disguised as a request. It was clearly an order. Why did she find it so hot?

“Hello. It’s nice to meet you all.” She peeped, leaning into Harry’s touch as he gave her a squeeze of reassurance. It was pretty clear on who was a dominant at the table, versus the submissive. Two were on their knees, two sitting under their dominant’s arms, and one in a similar position to Y/N.

“Is it your first time here?” A man asked this time. His voice was softer spoken but there was an edge to him that screamed that he was in charge. It was a little similar to Harry in which he looked kind, but anyone with sense would know not to question their particular brand of authority.

“It is, yes. H-Sir was helping me adjust before I came here. He is the best teacher.” Throwing in a bit of praise for the dominant had the desired affect, lips brushing her cheek in a chaste kiss.

“What are your thoughts? It’s intimidating, isn’t it?” The woman from before asked curiously, though the hungry spark didn’t leave her eye until Harry spoke to her.

“I’m not sharing her, Cara.” He said lowly, his hold tightening on her. “She’s not on the menu. Look but don’t touch.” There was a slight edge to his voice though it wasn’t hostile quite yet. Secretly, Y/N let herself preen over the possessive nature being shone through. Knowing he had no desire to let anyone else have a taste of her was beyond comforting- which, she knew was entirely ironic considering the context in which they met.

“Oh, boo.” She sighed. “You’re very beautiful. Harry’s not fond of sharing his chips either so I should have known, but there’s no harm in trying.” The demeanor shifted slightly to something lighter. “My girl likes to have playmates sometimes, but we’re a little picky.”

Y/N could only imagine. If Harry expressed desire to add someone in for a scene she wouldn’t be too fond of letting just anyone in… but then again, she didn’t want to share in at all in the first place. It wasn’t a closed minded thing, more so the idea of someone else taking his attention away from her making her stomach ache.

“It’s good to be picky.” Harry nodded. “But my girl isn’t up for shared scenes. I don’t think I’ll ever want to share her.” Fingers brushed over her cheek, still cool from his drink. “I don’t think anyone can blame me for being selfish with a beauty like this.”

Heat flooded her body, a shy smile on her lips as she looked at him and watched his eyes darken. His pupils dilate. There was no question in her mind that there was truth to his words in this way she had just witnessed them, but it still felt unreal. “You wouldn’t want to share me either, would you?” The words had been softened just for her consumption, the moment being looked over by the others who began talking amongst themselves. For them, though, they were in their own little bubble.

“No, sir.” The whisper matched his own volume, but the answer made him pleased. She could tell by the look on his face, lightening her own mood just by that alone. Y/N never knew how much she would truly enjoy this sort of thing, never understood how much Harry would change her life, but she was here now and it felt far more intense than one could imagine.

“Then we’re settled, yeah? They can watch us, but m’not gonna let them touch you. Nor me.” The addition made her giggle, though it was cut off when he caught her lips in a soft kiss. Gentle pressings over her mouth, she counted three before he pulled back and rubbed over her chin. A wistful look followed, his eyes full of contemplation as he looked her over. Back and forth, his thumb swiped the remnants of the kiss before he let himself out of the mindset, leaning back into the booth. “Since you’ve had your greetings, I want you on your knees for me.” Reaching behind him he got a little cushion, dropping it on the floor. Spreading his legs out, he motioned for her to get between them. At least he was thoughtful with her poor knees.

Y/N was weirdly excited for it. Slowly sinking down and settling with her heels touching her bum, she looked up at him expectantly as he watched her get settled in her new position. It felt… right, being here. Like this. Looking up at him as he spread his legs and looked down at her with a practiced patience on his face. “Sit quietly like a good girl. We’re going to go watch that show in a room in 20 minutes. If you can behave here, I’ll make sure you cum tonight.”

Y/N knew what he meant. Not to provoke him and get him hard. As much as she wanted to do that, wanted to mouth at his cock and be a brat so he’d force it in her mouth,’or her over his lap to redden her ass, she wasn’t quite that brave yet. Tonight was to prove she could be a good girl for him, the best she could be. Maybe if she was good enough, he’d tell her that he was keeping her.

Listening to his order, she rested her cheek on his thigh and closed her eyes as she found herself in the situation the other woman had been when they’d arrived at the table. His fingers sprawled through her hair as he talked quietly amongst friends, twirling tendrils between his digits as he got to the ends of it. Every so often the submissive could feel his eyes look down at her, which had her opening her eyes and smiling up at him. The pleased expression he had each and every time had her wondering if he knew what went through her mind.

If he told her to break up with Danny? She probably would. If he confessed that he had feelings for her, that he wanted her as his real partner, submissive or not, she would release herself from the other relationship she was having major doubts about anyways and go to him. Belong to him seriously.

Even being on her goddamn knees in front of him at a kink club, she felt more appreciated than she ever had. Even when he called her a dirty bitch, a nasty whore, a cockslut, she felt more worshiped and heard and ultimately cared for than she ever had. Harry listened to her. There was never a singular time since they’d started this arrangement that he hadn’t thought about her wants or safety in great detail. He hand fed her fruit he sliced by hand after scenes, brought up juice to her mouth and whispered to her to have sips after he was finished ruining her body. He broke her apart, yeah, but he built her back up again. Even better than he had first found her, if she was being honest.

Never in her life has she felt as heard, scene, and adored as she did when Harry gave her aftercare. When he texted her through the week to make sure she had a good day. When he asked her her favorite color the first day they met and made sure she had light pink straws in her drinks each and every time. Harry paid attention to her. Not just in scenes, where he seemed to pick apart her every reaction and know just how much she could handle, but last night too. He could feel her upset, did what he could to fix it. Proved yet again that he was the better option of the two.

What was stopping her?

Fear. Not of Harry, not of Danny, but fear of losing this feeling. She’d end up alone again, wistful for this exact scenario where she knew she couldn’t get it again. No one else would be able to make her feel the way Harry felt in her body and her mind and that was fucking terrifying. Admitting that only to potentially be rejected was worse than staying in a bad relationship. Maybe she was a coward- she knew she was- but she needed his promise. His words. Too many times in her life she had been let down, let her heart hurt and chip and bruise. A rejection from him would shatter her heart and all the work she had put into mending it and the wall she had tried to build up to make her softness toughen up a bit would be inconceivably damaged.

Times like tonight, meeting his eye and watching him tuck her hair behind her ear as she rubbed her face against his knee, she swore she could see the golden flecks of longing in his eyes too. When they were in bed after their scenes and his arms wrapped around her so he could haul her back into his body, she could feel inklings of something more under her skin. Even when he’d greeted her last night with a kiss in his driveway, a kiss she knew would lead to nothing sexual and just a genuine token of affection, she had felt that something was more with him. And yet she was frozen with fear every time she went to ask him how he felt about her. Terrified that he would reject her and their entire dynamic would be screwed.

Little did she know, he had the same dilemma.

Watching her nuzzled into him, sitting so fucking perfect and pretty and meeting his eye with those gorgeous fucking smiles, she looked so content with him. Like she was made to be in this exact scenario. He’d never felt more proud of having someone on his arm, and yet she wasn’t actually his. He just wasn’t sure how much longer he could last without spilling those feelings towards her.

His holdback was the fact that she was the one in a relationship. She’d tried to mend things with Danny, but part of his confusion was knowing if she did it because she wanted to or if he had stupidly pushed that by trying to do the right thing about it when she expressed her resentment towards him. All he wanted to do was make the girl happy. It was only a few months of knowing her. He shouldn’t feel this much, so soon.

Realistically he knew that it was likely because they shared such intimate parts of themselves with one another. This dynamic, lived in even if only on the weekends, was intense and serious and Y/N leaned into every bit of it with an eagerness only matching her nicknames sake. A puppy. So fucking sweet, she’d roll over and show belly if he asked her to right now, but instead she was content with her face on his leg and his hand in her hair.

His mind wandered to what it could be like if she left the other man. If she walked away and went into his arms, let him show her how he could treat her so much better. What she didn’t know as well was he was still holding back a bit. Emotionally, more so.

His heart felt like it was in his throat when he grazed his fingers past her cheek, watching her lashes lift off her cheek so she could give him her eyes. “You’re bein’ perfect for me, Pet.” He murmured, watching as she preened. His words always seemed to have a significant effect on her but the girl was slipping into a more submissive state with him here. It was his job to take care of her, to show her the things she’d been missing out on and desperate to experience. “Are you ready to go and watch?”

“Yes, Sir.” She lifted her cheek from his knee and angled her head back, allowing him to tap his fingers over her chin and get a smile from her. Everything felt more loaded than they could talk about right now, but she was doing exactly what she needed to do. Falling into line so perfectly that Harry really didn’t have much he needed to correct. Pride filled his chest as he let himself smile back at her, nudging her to stand up.

“Lets go then. Stay with me.”

—-

Y/N wasn’t sure what she expected in this scenario, but she knew there was nothing that would be realistic in her mind that could have prepared her for this night. Walking into the room where the scene had already begun, Harry held the back of her neck and led her towards a loveseat in the back. The throple on stage weren't paying anyone much mind, the room half full as the sounds of a masculine groan filled the air. The stage was lit with two doms and a sub, all beautiful in their own right.

She stayed quiet as she waited for directions from Harry, eyes on him as he settled himself on the seat. He didn’t speak, instead grabbing her waist and turning her around to sit on his lap. Back against his chest, he spread his legs and hooked one each of her thighs over his own to sprawl her out. The position left her rather exposed too, but the thrill of it caught in her chest as she felt the thick of his cock against her ass and his arm wrapping around her waist.

“Look at them.” He mumbled, keeping his tone quiet. “Watch.” With his chin against her shoulder, he slid his fingers over her thighs. Up and down, the touch slightly distracted her from the performance going on up the stage. It was becoming very apparent that her devotion to the Dominant was deeper rooted than she’d thought. All this time she’d been anticipating this, but all she could do was think about him and his hands on her.

“How does it make you feel?” His lips grazed the shell of her ear as he looked towards the show himself. “They make a nice little show, don’t they? Is that something you’ve thought of?” In front of the girl on her knees stood the Domme and other Dominant. The Domme’s hands held a leather leash connected to the collar of the girl, wrapped around her fist as the other hand gripped the submissive’s ponytail to bob her head on the man’s cock. Y/N did her best to pay attention to the performance in front of her, the wet heat between her thighs getting more intense as his fingertips brushed up and down the exposed, vulnerable flesh of her inner thigh. Images of it being them flooded her brain, the barriers breaking as his lips nestled right underneath her ear, puckering just so.

In her vision, there would be no Domme. The scene would include just him and her, his hand wrapped around the leash tight as a show of ownership. Her collar would be prettier, something more suited to her personally. Maybe a pink leather or more of a chain with a heart charm like she’d seen on one of the other subs at the table, but it would be one he picked out special for her. His fist would have her locks wrapped around it like a secondary leash, using her mouth and showing off just how much she could take. Ideally, it would be after she trained a bit more to take him deeper. She loved the idea of people being able to watch her, to see her take him down her throat. Being able to see how well Harry handled her, how she listened to him, the dynamic between them. Maybe at some point she’d be able to be a bit more bratty and get punished for it- having him fuck her throat as a punishment, or use his hand against her ass.

“Hm? I asked you a question. Answer me.” He muttered, nipping the delicate skin of her neck. “Tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head. Can almost hear it from here.”

Y/N swallowed, leaning further back into him as she tried to unfurl her tongue to tell him. “I-I like it. I’m thinking about us up there, Sir.” Keeping her voice quiet to be respectful to the throuple, she tried to be loud enough for him to hear. It was hard with how shaky her voice felt, his fingers trailing over the edge of her humid panties. It was hard to think straight with him touching her, his scent all over and his mouth on her neck and the sound of the praises from the Domme, the submissive choking slightly on the Dominant’s cock.

“You are?” He sounded intrigued. “Hm. I think you’d look pretty up there. What part of it is making your poor cunt wet like this?” Fingers tapped against the damp gusset of her panties, teasing with the light touch. It wasn’t enough to make her feel much relief, but the knowledge his hand was there was enough to make her swallow back a whimper. “I know you love my attention, but I’m starting to think you’re a bit more of an attention whore than I thought.”

The light degrading made her dizzy, the arm around her waist lifting to grip her throat lightly. “Keep talking, Puppy. Quietly.”

It was hard to keep talking but she tried her best. It was a little unnerving to realize just how much mental power he had over her, but she knew she was safe. Maybe she felt a little pathetic that such light touches had her in a tizzy, but this whole night had been edging, hadn’t it? This was the main event, watching people indulge in the taboo pleasures like it was a theater show while her own Dominant teased her over her panties. “I-I like that she has the collar n’stuff, and people are watching her choke on it.” She whispered out, breathing getting a little harder as he nudged her clit lightly with his thumb. Rhythmic back and forth, just a tiny hint of his touch but it was enough to make her want to buck into it. Harry was making her feel insane, but the entire thing was playing into it.

Watching them on the stage, knowing other people were around that could see her being spread open and touched like this, the way Harry was hard under her ass, it all had her tummy hot and head fuzzy. “And I like that they’re bein’ a little mean to her. Makin’ fun of her, Sir.” Her tongue felt a bit too big for her mouth as she admitted to those things. The condescending teasing of the Domme to the Submissive each time she failed to take the full length down her throat had sent a zing to her cunt, imagining Harry calling her those names and giving the mean encouragement to get her to do her very best in front of all the other people.

“Christ, you’re a whore.” Harry laughed incredulously into her neck. “You want to be degraded like that in front of other people? Because… I know for a fact you can’t take all of my dick into that throat. S’a bit too big and as cockhungry as you are, I think you’d be a little embarrassed about not being able to do what you should be able to.” The twinge of shame melted into arousal, his thumb nudging her clit a little harder. Was it a reward? She didn’t know, but she didn’t want it to stop.“As for the collar…” Fingers uncurled from her waist , moving up to collar her throat. “I think a better one would be better suited for such a slutty puppy. Jus’ didn’t realize you needed to be leashed too.”

His smallest finger went underneath the necklace that served as a collar for the night, tugging lightly at it. “You’d need to belong t’me properly for that. I don’t collar up just anyone, baby. Is that something you really want?” It was probably not the correct time to dip his toes into the question of a more serious arrangement, but he wanted to hear her answer.

“Uh-huh. I want it so bad, Daddy. I can be so good for it, I’d love it.” Her whine was a little too loud, a coo leaving his lips as he lightly applied pressure at the sides of her throat to shut her up. The answer, the fucking eagerness of it had his cock twitching against her ass and his heart pumping a bit harder. Maybe it was just a heat of the moment thing, but the vulnerability of the moment had him doubting it was some sort of illusion.

“Mm. We can discuss that when you’re not so worked up and soaking the pretty panties I got you. You need to keep your voice down, be respectful.” The warning was twofold. He had to table that conversion or he’d get his hopes up far too soon. The slip up of honorifics, though, had been intriguing. “I’m Daddy right now, hm?”

“Mhm.” She attempted to nod as his fingers lightened their pressure. “Touch me, please. I’m achy.” Squirming slightly in his arms, another squeeze to her throat had her freezing in place before his other hand decided to ease down the waistband of her panties.

“I don’t know how I feel about you making demands, Pet, but you’re making quite a fucking mess.” His voice dropped, feeling her pulse in his fingertips. “God, you’re gonna cum so fuckin’ quickly. I can feel it.” Y/N was drenched, his thumb finding her slippery clit to rub in light circles. “It’s a little too much for your filthy whore mind, isn’t it? Sitting at my knees, acting like the perfect little submissive for me… Seeing all those pretty people playing, dressed up so nice. And now Daddy’s brought you to a nice little show. You paying attention?” He urged her attention towards the show. “He’s gonna cum on her face, just like I’ve been dying t’do. Or are you more aroused at the knowledge that anyone can look over and see your pussy being pet like a desperate slut?”

Yes, yes, yes. All of the above, check all the boxes. Y/N would beg more if she could find it in her brain to talk, but it felt so good. The light grip at her throat making it slightly harder to breathe, how he was talking hushed into her ear and the vibrations made her feel even more squirmy, his fingers on her cunt, she just felt like she was dreaming. Like this was some sort of high before the ultimate one, looking to the side and catching a few eyes on her. She’d made a tiny bit of noise before, surely making people aware that she wasn’t behaving, but it felt all too real now.

“And now you’ve gone dumb for me. I need an answer from you, Angel. Need a color before I make you cum.” He nudged her face to the side, lips resting against the corner of her own. “Color?”

“Green. I’m so good, I-I…” She panted, eyes glazed but looking into his own. They were hooded, dark, and it was obvious in all ways that he was aroused too. He showed more restraint than she did, but he wasn’t unaffected by it all. “Sir…” With little thought to consequences, her own hand came up to the back of his head and pulled him closer so she could press his lips against his.

Harry didn’t usually kiss in the club. He didn’t like them being seen in that way most of the time, feeling that those were supposed to be shared for more private and intimate moments- but Y/N had a way of making him throw a lot of his prior rules and regulations out the window. Didn’t she? He groaned quietly, licking into her mouth, trying to ignore the hot spark of arousal in his cock her hands tugging his hair closer to her had given him. For a moment, he gave in and enjoyed the taste of her tongue and the uncoordinated mess that was their kiss. He took the moment to slip two fingers into her cunt, curling them into her slick hole to get her to gasp. Hot and tight, he held back another moan at the feeling of her cunt fluttering around the intrusion. It was one of his favorite feelings, her breathing picking up against his mouth.

The broad hand around her throat tightened again, making her eyes peel open again. Wet mouth illuminated by the red lights around the room, he panted against her open lips. “Remember your fucking place. You want a kiss? You ask. You aren’t in charge. I am.” He growled, trying to keep his voice down as he fucked his fingers into her. “I’m the one in charge. Not you. I choose if you cum or not, I choose if you get kissed or fuck. Your body is mine to play with. You’d do well to remember that, or you’ll be the next one on that stage.” He grinned maliciously. “And I’ve got a reputation to uphold. I won’t be as nice as I’ve been before.”

Letting up on the grip, he swallowed her gasp with another kiss.

It was moments like this that Y/N could see it. She could see this being her life, this being her night out with him. Instead of dingy bars with sports games she didn’t give a singular fuck about, she could be here watching shows and learning, she could have Harry’s fingers deep inside of her, his cock inside of her, whatever he chose, giving her pleasure that was immeasurable to what she’d ever known before. A literal wet dream came true.

Y/N couldn’t respond, nodding lazily as the slick sound of her cunt being fucked with his fingers slicked up by her arousal became slightly audible. The throuple on stage was the loudest sound in the room, but underneath it all she could hear exactly what he was doing to her. It was humiliating to be this wet, to be this close to orgasm from a few minutes of his fingers thrusting in and out of her, a bit of choking, his whispers against her ear, a few people peering over at them and she loved it. His hand around her throat, keeping her tight to his body, and she felt the most free she’d ever been.

There was an attempt to warn him, his fingers prodding right at her spot and her legs beginning to tremble as she squirmed slightly on his lap, but he could tell she wouldn’t be able to be quiet. He’d have to force her to be. “Let go. Make a mess on my fingers and be fucking quiet.” The dominant let her take another deep inhale before he returned his fingers to the sides of her neck, applying pressure exactly where she needed it to steal the rest of her breath.

Y/N could see spots in her vision as she came. If he wasn’t stopping it, she probably would have sobbed out as she shook in his arms. Cumming hard and fast, hips bucking into his hand, his words cooed softly against her ear and brought up chills against her skin as the vibrations added to the sensations that tossed her over the edge.

“There you go, stay nice and quiet. Cum all over my fingers, you perfect fuckin’ girl.” He coaxed, pressing them against that spot over and over again whilst his thumb rubbed her throbbing clit. She could feel the contractions of her walls around him, a deep breath being taken as he eased up on her throat to make sure she recovered, but he didn’t stop his prodding. “Work through it. People just saw that, yeah? Saw how good you are, amazing and how quiet you can be. Saw how beautiful you are when you cum for me. Such a precious angel.” Little kisses were pressed to her sticky skin, her mind pleasantly fuzzy and a little empty as his words soothed the orgasm that rocked through her body. “There we go, sweet girl. Y’did perfectly. Took your reward so well, yeah? You were made for this.” His praise added another layer of warm, fluffy comfort to the pleasant feeling that coated her body, the words echoing in her brain. All she could think about was how good she had been, how good it had felt. Good, good, good. She was a good girl and Harry was proud of her. “Gonna take you home in a few, baby. Just let you get a good cuddle in first, clean you up and sneak out of here. We’ll come back and you can see our new friends again.”

This whole thing had pleasured her. Not just the orgasm, but the entire place. Her head had felt calm since she’d settled at Harry’s feet, quickly getting over nerves and settling into that feeling of correctness. Ease. It felt like she belonged here, even with the underlying anxiety. With anyone else but Harry she wasn’t sure if she would have felt that, but it had just been another experience he had made positive for her. Of course he did. He was perfect.

He’d walked her through it, held her hand, helped her know what to expect but- She’d known she would like this sort of thing. Y/n had always thought about it, but actually experiencing it was a whole other beast. One she wanted to experience again, and again, and again- If Harry would let her.

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amourdivine · 2 months ago

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୨ ♡ ୧ WHO IS HAUNTED BY YOU? PAC ઉ

Hello lovelies, welcome to another pick a card for my Halloween special 👻 This is a reading about who is haunted by you. I hope you enjoy! Feedback is highly appreciated. If you liked this reading, please consider tipping me at @ [email protected] paypal! xo ♡

☁️ ˚ QUICKLINKS . ༉ ‧

INSTAGRAM ୭ YOUTUBE ୭ MASTERLIST ୭ PAYHIP

› none of the images are mine unless stated otherwise. › personal readings are closed.

HOW TO CHOOSE YOUR PILE. take a few deep breaths and look at each picture separately. see which one brings you to a feeling, a place or a memory. take your time and feel free to come back to it later!

pile one.

the devil, knight of swords, eight of wands

This is a person in a relationship, someone who is not happy with where they are. It seems they're tied to something or someone, perhaps this is a relationship they feel tied to and currently see no way out of. It can be a friend, a co-worker... even a boss. Being with you would bring out certain societal implications they're not prepared for. This person is running from their attraction towards you, but it's very hard to resist you.

They may find themselves glancing at your pictures, social media or typing out texts and deleting them. I wrote 'hands' instead of 'wands' by accident at the beginning of your pile, so there's a big likelihood that they cannot keep their hands to themselves when they see or think of you. If you notice this person is extra fidgety or touchy around you, it's because they get a thrill out of it. The forbidden aspect of it both pains and excites them. To be honest, I don't see them getting out of this toxic relationship anytime soon, so do not expect much. Regardless, you set this person on fire.

channeled words and messages: meme, dm's, sneaky link, ride or die, lana del rey, freak, toxic masculinity, therapy, curse, silence ring, marriage, engagement.

pile two.

wheel of fortune, the moon, knight of pentacles

You probably don't know this person that well. This may be someone you've come across on multiple occasions in an unexpected way, but couldn't talk to all that much. Someone who's in your class or a new co-worker... maybe a friendly, quiet neighbor or a friend of a friend. You've made quite a lasting impression on this person and they want to get to know you. They may have had dreams with you, something which confused them and deeply troubled them. How is it possible to feel like you know someone and not know them at all?

They may have tried to avoid you, with no success. Currently, they're trying to figure out a way to approach you without looking crazy. They seem shy, a bit anxious as well. This person may be asking their friends for help on how to talk to you, they may have tried to find a common hobby or class so they can increase their chances of being around you.

channeled words and messages: social anxiety, history class, college, sage green, leather couch, autumn, latte, late for class, "sorry i bumped into you", "i'm so nervous".

pile three.

the emperor, ace of swords, eight of wands

A very proud person (lol). You could be involved romantically with this person to some degree. If not romantically, at least physically. This person doesn't want to admit they caught feelings for you, so they're trying to be cold and rational, hoping that the intensity of their desire for you wears off. They're not used to being genuinely interested in a person. They're not used to wanting to talk to someone.

You excite this person's mind, you pique their interest. You may have stood up to them in some way, or you could have said something that lingered in their mind. You have challenged them and though it irks them that someone had the audacity to do so, they're quite impressed with your charm, your witty attitude. Although we have the Eight of Wands which typically suggests physical attraction, I can't help but feel this person is interested you beyond your body and looks.

channeled words and messages: 888, lawyer, entj, intj, sapiosexual, bookshelf, simone de beauvoir, feminism, jane austen, introvert, "i don't like people", pride, leo, respect.

pile four.

strength, two of cups, knight of wands

The person who is haunted by you is someone you're also haunted by (hehe). The feelings, attraction and relationship is mutual. It is balanced and fair. For some, this is a friend you have yet to confess to. For others, this is a crush you're not sure likes you back. Either way, this is your confirmation that this person does like you and does want you.

I'm getting a "first love" feeling. It could be both or one of you is too shy to tell the other, maybe you're scared of rejection or ruining what you already have. However, it's quite obvious to the people around you that you should be together. It seems a step of bravery is required in order to be with one another, because the love, the respect and companionship is already there. This relationship is already built on a good foundation, so trust that you can hold this person's hand and they will not let go. I'm very happy for you, pile four!

channeled words and messages: childhood best friend, painting, high school, pop songs, spotify, shared playlist, inside jokes, heather, jokester, austin, teasing, "between the lines", slow burn, skinny love.

amourdivine. © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content.

DISCLAIMER. tarot is a divination tool, it’s not a substitute for medical and professional advice, nor is it meant to be taken as such. i don’t take responsibility for any choice(s) made by you or others regarding my readings. be mindful ♡

#pick a card #tarotblr #tarot reading #pick a card reading #divination #pick a pile #pick a pile reading #tarot pick a card #divine counterpart #pick a picture #future spouse #crush reading #crush pick a card

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gatitties · 1 year ago

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Web of love

─Yandere!Jujutsu Kaisen x fem!reader (platonic)

─Summary: you just keep adding lunatics to the list like they're pokemon and you lose patience

─Warnings: mahito (he's a warning himself yeh) blood, death, a little anxiety attack, toxic behaviors, obsession, yandere stuff

Part One / Part Three / Part Four

The blank pages: Part One / Par Two

I'm done downloading my inspiration on this for now, I feel like this is a little longer, sorryyy 😶

YOU WERE too quick to accept that these sorcerers would do whatever they wanted with you, but in a way, starting a verbal fight to refuse to do certain quests would cause you more problems than solutions, so you were just like a body empty of soul moving back and forth, simply waiting for the next order to complete it as quickly as possible.

The worst thing of all was that it wasn't annoying, at least, not the fact of taking orders, you liked it, you didn't have to think too much, just do this and that, you definitely started to think that all those tests of 'are you a leader or a follower' made sense all those times that your result was being a follower, you wanted an easy life and being a leader of anything is a complete stress that you were not going to go through.

So your simplistic and conformist personality only made it easier for all those sorcerers to mold you to their liking, this does not mean that whenever they asked to spend time with you or simply be attached to you you accepted, they would always have a negative response at first, however if they continued insisting, as may be the case with Itadori and Nobara, you would agree to do what they wanted, because accepting is easier than declining. Megumi and Gojo weren't as persistent in asking for small favors or bonding time, which you appreciated.

"I was looking for you, Maki and I are going to go downtown to look for some cursed weapons, do you want to come?"

Nobara, getting into the bad habit of not knocking on your door and entering without permission, throw herself at your bed grabbing your hand to beg you to go out with her and Maki, knowing that you would refuse she started whining about how you hadn't left your room lately and that she had been very busy with the missions. With no other option you accepted, hoping to be able to get back to what you were doing later in the night.

You thanked the heavens that Maki Zenin was skeptical about your stay at the Jujutsu school, since you did not show any interest in developing cursed techniques or improving physical abilities, she thought that you were not important enough, a shame that Nobara had to drag you with her long enough for Maki to end up getting attached to you, you barely talked to her but for some reason she ended up liking you.

"Come on, we don't have all afternoon."

Maki began to walk waiting for you both to follow her steps, a couple of minutes later the two of them began a light idle chat while you followed behind, only with one of your headphones on in case they spoke to you at some point.

"Be careful, you should stop looking at your phone and look at your surroundings, you are so careless."

The girl with glasses grabbed the back of the collar of your uniform to stop you just before you crossed a red zebra crossing for pedestrians, you watched for a moment as the cars sped by just a few centimeters from you with blank eyes.

"Yeah, I'm sorry."

You shrugged, putting away your phone like a scolded child, Nobara took the liberty of grabbing your hand to guide you the rest of the way, at least you could walk looking absent-mindedly at anything that caught your attention without worrying about tripping.

Disinterested and bored once they started negotiating about the cursed weapons, you decided that you could go out for a few minutes without anyone noticing to the bakery you had seen around the corner, you felt like something sweet, you were going to buy something sweet and no one will stop you. Unfortunately before you could get out of the alley, because of course, a shop like that wasn't going to be visible to everyone, once again a curse clung to you desperately to be forgiven.

"Not now please."

You took a couple of minutes to release the cursed energy of that curse, feeling your eyelids heavier and your body more relaxed, of course your ability had cons, after all what you were doing was consuming cursed energy, your way of releasing it were resting, which led you to sometimes fall asleep even standing up due to exhaustion.

Your slight drowsiness disappeared when you heard the sewer besides you sliding with a squeak, a strange mass began to come out until it formed a guy who looked like a sewn doll, his bicolor eyes looked into your soul.

"That was very interesting, where is that curse? Did you absorb it? Did you kill it?"

Your parents had taught you that you shouldn't talk to strangers, especially if they seemed like lunatics who could deform and come out of random sewers, and like a good mom and dad's girl, you looked away, backing away to exit through the other side of the alley, but he managed to grab your wrist so you wouldn't run away.

"It's rude to ignore someone when they speak, you know?"

You frowned looking at his hand on you, remaining silent, you let out an inaudible sigh, you always had to end up in this type of situation, tangled with people ─in this case curses─ that trapped you without wanting to let go.

"I sent it to rot in hell, its soul will remain suffering until eternity, remembering and regretting all the evils it has caused, it will be subjected to the worst tortures imaginable."

He remained silent before bursting into laughter, you had said all that so seriously, with that grim face that he almost believed it, you hoped that trying to 'scare' him would work, but this curse had at least a couple more neurons than the ones you used to meet.

"Aren't you funny? It's a shame I have to kill you, I thought we could be friends but you're-"

The ground began to shake, almost losing your balance, you took advantage of the sudden distraction to free yourself from Mahito's grip, approaching the nearest wall so as not to fall due to the tremors, the sewer flew away and you could see how the curse paled, transforming again to escape.

"How many hours have I lost in this chase?"

A new voice came out of nowhere, turning around you saw a blonde man with glasses, he was wearing a uniform and had a blood stained weapon in one of his hands, you looked at each other in silence until he spoke again.

"A student… hey, have you seen that curse? Where did he flee?"

Figuring he was trustworthy enough since he seemed to recognize the Jujutsu high, you silently pointed in the direction Mahito left, earning a nod from him to leave you there alone again. As if that weren't enough, before you could leave the alley to get some sweet, you ran into another curse, this one looked like a volcano with only one eye, it was petting a stray cat while muttering things like 'you're a good boy' in a squeaky voice, you were going to turn around to make this less awkward but your bones had to make that weird sound sometimes when you walk.

His one eye widened at the sight of you, a small rash erupting from his head and he shot up at the speed of light.

"I'll pretend I haven't seen anything if you pretend you haven't seen me."

You decided to reach a mutual agreement because you heard Nobara shout your name, surely they had finished their purchase or had been alerted by the noise earlier, and if they found you now they would surely distract you enough that you wouldn't be able to buy your candy. You took enough time to complete your little mission, as just as you left the bakery you were approached by the red-haired girl who hugged you like a whimpering koala.

"You can't disappear like that out of nowhere! We heard a shaking and thought something bad had happened to you."

She rubbed her cheek against your shoulder, you murmured apologies while still savoring your sweet, Maki remained silent watching the interaction, carefully searching for any kind of scratch or wound on your body, she sighed in relief when she saw that you didn't seem to have anything.

"We have already spent a lot of time here, we should go back, Toge and Panda are waiting for us for our training."

The encounter with these two curses, Mahito and Jogo, was only a small trigger that led you to strangely meet them more times later, you were never close of course, but your eyes always seemed to meet the multicolored or the single eye of those guys in some bustling part of the city, you knew they had some plan with Itadori, but it's not like you could do anything, you just alerted Gojo and he thanked you with a few pats on the head for the information.

On the other hand, you became a recurring conversation on the side of the villains, for one reason or another, everyone got to know you, either because Mahito was talking about you or because you had an encounter with Geto or Choso, not knowing them, you felt strange when you exchanged glances with them because you felt the same as when you first met the trio of sorceres, they already knew you before you knew anything about them.

Their curiosity about you was only based on overprotectiveness and how obsessed the sorcerers were with you, you seemed to be an important person, was it because of your power? Was it because of your cursed technique? It was something they wanted to find out and anyway if it was nothing like that, they could always use you as a wild card to blackmail them.

You decided to ignore their presence while you worked on your assignments, assignments in which you got to know that blonde guy, Nanami, he was assigned with you for a couple of missions and at first he felt quite irritated by your carefree behavior and even annoyed by your lack of interest in the work, but he couldn't blame you, in his eyes, like Itadori, you were just a teenager who shouldn't be doing this kind of work. He proposed to himself that no student was going to die under his care, especially someone who was never in favor of being part of the cursed world.

You just kept adding people who were worried or interested in you to the list, and you thought that there was no one else who could feel that way, that you could finally breathe easy, that you could stop moving through that web that kept you captive, that you could snuggling in your sheets protecting yourself from the cold while you hugged a pillow and slept carefree.

And… out of nowhere you wake up with a wet cheek, an eternal sea of blood where you could float, in the distance a temple made up of different animal and human bones. Your eyes became slightly watery, your only moment of rest ruined by whatever was happening, you were upset, furious, maybe it was the first time since you left home you felt an emotion this strong and vivid.

"This has to be a fucking joke…"

You mumble walking towards the temple hoping to find some kind of answer to get out of there, you wanted your hours of sleep back, you wanted to disconnect your brain from reality and travel to your dreams seeking solace outside of this world, not to be trapped in this stupid place.

"This is unusual, how did you manage to get here, brat?"

You rubbed your face furiously, of course you had heard about Sukuna, how Itadori swallowed a fucking finger, but luckily you didn't have any encounter with the king of curses, until now. Again it seemed like he already knew you, but how could he not? You occupied more than half of Itadori's thoughts.

"That's what I would like to know, is this your domain? Get me out of here."

"I can't."

You couldn't contain the irritated grimace you made, this time your expressionlessness broke as well as your patience, a small twitch appeared in your eye and you began to breathe harder, you rubbed your head too hard, perhaps tearing out a few strands in the process, but you didn't care, you exploded after putting up with so much shit.

"Tell me it's a joke, you're the king of curses, not the king of comedians, get me out of here."

Your tone of voice stopped being monotonous, now radiating annoyance and demand that made Sukuna smile at your outburst, he had always heard Itadori complain about how unexpressive you were with them and now you are exploiting a lot of negative emotions.

"Well, I can do that, but for that I would have to kill you."

"Do it." you didn't take a second or hesitate to respond, almost surprising the man, who watched you in silence as you approached him, your frown more with every step you took "What the hell are you waiting for? Do it, kill me."

Sukuna had seen many people begging him, begging for lives, begging to end suffering, it wasn't even the first time they had begged him for a death, but this felt… strange, he had never seen someone so young desperate to die, he had never seen someone have the anxiety attack you were experiencing right now, and strangely he had never felt the kind of energy you gave off, it was somewhat reassuring. He began to understand all the macabre thoughts about you in Itadori's thoughts, all that overprotection and worry, or perhaps, he had gone crazy, becoming infected because of the human in which he was locked up.

"Mmmh, I can do it, but you will only wake up, if you have managed to get here without trying, you will surely come back when you try to sleep again, but it is only a theory, since you have never been here before."

"In that case I'll think of something, but let me wake up."

"Ok"

He shrugged with disinterest, you didn't even feel how his fist lodged in your abdomen, your body staggered towards his, while he held you with one of his arms, the other pulled out your heart that continued pumping blood, you looked in disgust as he seemed to enjoy watching the blood splash across his face.

"Son of a bitch with a fetish for dishearten people…"

It was the only thing you said before your body faded away, immediately waking up in your bed with labored breathing, you placed your hands on your heart, checking that it was still in place, beating rapidly from the agitation. That specific night you couldn't sleep, because by doing so you returned to Sukuna's domain, or to Itadori's mind, the problem was rooted in the fact that that specific day Itadori was much more worried about you than usual, generating a certain connection that interfered with his and your dreams, the middle ground being Sukuna's domain.

Now you couldn't even go to sleep thinking about having a good dream, because depending on the night you would end up stuck with the king of curses, another person added to the list, would this be some kind of divine punishment? You just want to run to your parents and hug them with all your might, for them to tell you that everything will be okay and that you are a good daughter, for the moment you will settle for hugging your cold pillow in search of comfort while three pairs of eyes watch as your emotions slowly deteriorates.

They would make sure to be the arms that keep you warm, to be the people you turn to in these types of situations, you shouldn't be sad, you are much better off here, more protected and safe.

"Good night darling, have sweet dreams."

Gojo, having shooed the other three students away from you, entered your room, gently wiping away the tears that stained your cheeks, he stroked your hair for a few seconds before brushing away a few strands and kissing your forehead. He hadn't had the chance to prove that he was capable of being a good father in Megumi's eyes, but he could be to you, it's a shame that you still cling to your parents as role models when he was there, he would be a better father figure, just wait.

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impish-baby · 2 months ago

Note

Ummm, a lot of my asks have been eaten lately, but I figured that typing this out again probably won't hurt. Sorry if you got it and I'm being annoying, but what if we went grocery shopping and met the twins by accident. The thing is, we don't see it as us running away. From our POV, we were distancing ourselves from our toxic family, so we're just like "Hey, wassup?" And the twins are like "wtf, where have you been asshole?!"

And then we just get pulled into a bone crushing hug and shoved into their car while we're just shocked bc literally when was the last time they showed us affection? Physical affection at that? And (small fact about myself) we don't like being touched bc we didn't grow up with it, so we're struggling in the backseat as one twin practically suffocates us and the other twin drives home.

-🏹

Hihi! I am pretty sure I've gotten that ask, although it didn't have a sign off, it was this premise. (Don't worry about being annoying! I understand the anxiety about tumblr eating asks ^^)

Don't you know it's fight or fly, little wolf - how the twins react to seeing reader out shopping

'It's just groceries, you're fine..' It's repeated like a mantra as you wonder down the aisles, anxiety pooling in your gut and making you queasy. Too bright, too much noise, too many people, every single thing is grating on your already fried nerves. You're constantly reminding yourself that you can do this, that you're just buying what Pam needs, and then leaving. It's simple, you're an adult, you're not having an anxiety attack just because you're shopping and it's crowded-

If you weren't already having a horrible enough time, there's a sudden hand on your back, tightly gripping your hoodie and pressing you up against the aisle you where browsing. "So you are in one piece... Jack has been worrying himself sick, you know?" You have to crane your neck to the side to see your older sibling, Theo standing as close as humanly possible. There's a cold look on their face, frowning disapprovingly at you when they turn you around to be face to face with them. "I think he was starting to go gray, honesty.."

You can't even get a word out between the panic you were already feeling and their sudden presence, momentarily stunned. Theo is too busy checking you over to pay attention to your reaction, scrutizing your form for any injuries before your hoodie is released, vice like grip holding onto your hand instead. You don't even do anything when they start dragging you through the store, only stumbling helplessly behind your older sibling.

When Jack eventually catches sight of you both, you're immediately crushed into a hug that knocks the wind out of you, squirming once you can feel him start to press kisses to the crown of your head, is... is he crying?? He is crying, tears tricking down the man's cheeks as he holds you like you're the most precious thing on the planet. Since when...

"God, where have you been? Are you ok? You're not hurt, right? T- Theo, they aren't hurt?"

"They're fine." Theo huffs, still holding onto you even though Jack has you in a suffacating embrace. "...stop making a scene."

"Ok.. ok.." Your older brother sighs, taking a few breaths to calm himself down. He doesn't let you go however, swinging an arm over your shoulder as they both begin to leave the store with you in tow. "You.. you can come to the apartment, alright? We'll call dad and then-"

That gets your brain to start working again at least, starting to drag your feet and cause Theo to curse as you begin to struggle. "I'm not going anywhere with either of you! Do you seriously think-" Your breath hitches in your throat as a hand wraps around your neck and squeezes.

"He wasn't asking your opinion, he was telling you that's what's happening." Jack has let you go now, standing off to the side as he nervously wrings his hands. It's Theo's intimidating figure standing over you, clutching your neck with a warning glare. "You're not a toddler, but if you don't walk, I'm carrying you out of the store."

Theo sighs when you stubbornly make no move to be cooperative, now carrying you out to the parking lot, uncaring that you're still trying to squirm out of their grip. "Jack, you have to drive.."

The older boy startles when he's addressed, having been trailing you both like a lost puppy until now. "Y- Yeah.." Jack hums meekly, fumbling for the keys in his pocket. He's shaking so bad you're unsure if he'll even be able to pull out from the parking spot, almost dropping the keys as he tries to unlock the doors.

He gets it eventually though, and you're dumped into the backseat, theo caging you back into their arms before you can even try to reach for the handle, the sound of the door slamming shut and locking only sealing your fate.

(a/n: theo would not care if you bite them :> they'll only scoff and use it as evidence against you. You're how old and biting people still?)

#something interesting about reader is that they have severe social anxiety!#which is part of why jaiden was so sure they didn't run in his intro #famial yandere #platonic yandere #yandere age regression #yandere agere #forced age regression #platonic yandere x reader #yandere x reader #forced agere #you've got mail! 📨#🏹 anon #theo would not actually hurt reader by the way!#they just couldn't have you causing a huge fuss in the store #you can yell all you want in the car :)#oc: jack 🧡#oc: theo 💛

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onlyjaeyun · 1 year ago

Text

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐁𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 – 𝟓

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐨

↬ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

↬ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬!𝐀𝐔, 𝐂𝐄𝐎!𝐉𝐚𝐲, 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

↬ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟒.𝟒𝐤

↬ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐬𝐬/𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭

↬ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞, 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬, 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲. 𝐀 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐚 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐚 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐡 𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐥'𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐄𝐎.

"Oh, my God!"

Your sudden exclamation of excitment startles both of your friends, their pretty eyes quickly shifting from their plate of snacks to your face, waiting for you to continue.

The alcohol has already made its way into your system and different than both Aeri and Jimin, you're more of a lightweight, so it didn't take more then three shots for you to get tipsy. But after a week, especially this particular dad, so exhausting and challenging, you're more than just ready to let it all go and enjoy yourself.

Working for Park Jongseong has definitely been...an experience. Your schedule isn't as demanding and physically exhausting as your previous part time jobs, yet the responsibility being a secretary comes with has definitely taken its mental toll on you. The urge to do everything as perfect as possible, just because you're genuinely afraid of disappointing your boss is a lot more than you thought and at this point you're not quite sure if you can actually handle it all.

To your luck, you've got something similar to a week off, due to Park Jongseong's physical absence, yet you're pretty sure you'll still have enough to do until he's back. It's not like you don't actually enjoy your job, it's more about your subconscious desire to please and satisfy your boss to gain his validation and approval.

Before you can actually get to the part where you curse at your father for not being part of your life, you turn your phone to show your girls the chat between you and Park Nayeon, your self proclaimed guardian angel, who is about to head over to the manifesto as well, leaving all three of you incredibly excited.

"That's so cool", Aeri giggles and takes a sip from her cute little cocktail, "I really hope she spends some time with us, too. I sound like a pathetic school girl who wants to be friends with the school's IT girl, what the fuck."

Her self awareness has you all chuckling, the music blaring in the background as you're all too comfortable to actually get up and dance. But neither one of you cares enough as the drinks do exactly what they're supposed to do and the need for sexual satisfaction from earlier has almost completely disappeared.

"Apparently it's Lee Heeseung's birthday", you say after reading Nayeon's next messages, "and Seoul's big four are headed here to celebrate. Yeonie said she's gonna try and have us invited into the VIP section as well."

It's this particular statement which has the three of you stop in your tracks. Just the thought of spending a night at the club with the four most important men of the company you all work for seems a lot less inviting than a single addition to your girls' night.

Jimin takes a deep breath and from the way she nervously puts her drink down, you can tell that the anxiety has yet to lose the fight against the alcohol in her system.

"I'm out", she quickly says and looks around, "I can't even look Mr. Park in the eyes when we happen to get into the same elevator at the company, there's no way I'm going to party with him. Or whatever he does at a club like this."

With a soft nod you agree with her words, feeling quite similar about your boss' presence, especially after the praising incident from earlier today.

"Let's just head out and have some beef at Ruby's", you say and start looking around to find one of the pretty waitresses who played a huge role in the greatness of your night.

"Oh, come on, babes!" Aeri suddenly says and looks at the two of you with her pretty lips pushed into a faux pout to gain your sympathy.

"Just an hour", she says and scoots closer to you on the little couch you're both seated in, "and then we'll leave and the meat's on me, I promise."

Jimin quickly shoots you a look of uncertainty, which you simply mirror as you start nibboing on your bottom lip.

You really don't want to run into your boss and his friends, no matter how nice they are, they're still your superiors and you can't help but feel like you're under constant observation when it comes to them.

On top of it all you really, really don't want Park Jongseong to look at you and remember the things you had said a few hours ago, the embarrassment and humiliation still very prominent in your guts.

But you're also more than aware that there probably won't be another opportunity like this for you to spend time with Nayeon, since she's a lot busier than she claims to be and you're usually too shy and hesitant to hit her up.

"I'm so tipsy already", you whine and roll your eyes once you realise you've all silently agreed to stay in this very moment, "I guess I just won't speak. Please don't make me embarrass myself even more, I'm begging you."

"Don't worry, Babe", Aeri says and holds her drink up with a big smile and excitement gleaming in her eyes, "we're going to have a great time!"

Just as you're about to join your best friend, the music suddenly stops and the crowd on the dance floor underneath the three of you as well as everyone else starts cheering, "Happy Birthday" replacing the previous hip hop song and that's when you realise who just arrived.

With big, curious eyes you watch Seoul's most known and loved Bachelors walk into the club, all of them dressed simply, yet as classy as one might expect.

With the owner of the club, TPC's very loved and appreciated CMO and today's birthday boy leading their pack, Lee Heeseung looks as charming and cool as ever. All four of them are dressed in simple dress shirts varying in colors, with their classic slacks, yet adding their own charms to the outfits with individual pieces of jewelry you know cost more than your monthly salary.

You don't even realise who your gaze has shifted to, until his dark eyes meet yours through the crowds of people, as if he felt your presence before actually seeing you.

Park Jongseong.

With your heart thrumming in your throat, you try to calm yourself down, yet as soon as you notice the way his usually so cold and stoic gaze starts roaming your face, you can't stop your brain from remembering your conversation from earlier, jolts of weird excitement and anticipation rushing through you. Maybe you'll actually have a good time with each orher tonight.

"Oh, no, not her."

You don't even get the chance to properly process Aeri's comment as your focus shifts from the CEO to the angel like women on his arm.

Her face is small and petite, shaped like the one of an ancient goddess and for a moment you actually forget to inhale.

Yoo Shiah, one of Seoul's biggest fashion influencers, who just so happens to be the daughter of famous and influential business man Yoo Yongho, one of The Park Company's biggest and most important partners to this date.

You physically can't stop yourself from staring at her and it doesn't take you long to realise it's mostly because of how close she is to your boss, rather than her beauty.

A weird feeling starts spreading in your tummy and like a child caught doing something forbidden, you quickly lower your head. You hate how much the sight of them so close together has affected you within just a few minutes.

You're surprised at your own behavior, since you, just like the entirety of South Korea, knows about the close bond those two share with each other. They're not titled Seoul's couple of the future for nothing after all.

"Let's just say Hi to Yeonie and then leave, please", you say and gulp harshly, too ashamed of the emotions your body's currently trying to process.

You genuinely don't understand where these feelings of envy and jealousy come from. You've only known Park Jongseong for about six weeks and besides the fact that he's never talked to you about anything that's not work related – with today as an exception – there's absolutely no reason for you to feel and think all of these things.

With a soft sigh, you try to hide the sudden wave of sadness overwhelming you, right before you actually curse your absent father for putting you into this situation in the first place.

If he had actually kept his promise and showed up when you needed him to, you wouldn't have gotten your hopes up from a single, simple verbal praise from your boss.

"Yeah, I really don't wanna be around that annoying bitch", Aeri adds casually and downs the rest of her cocktail in one go.

Jimin remains completely silent and for some reason you find comfort in your shared anxiety regarding this particular situation.

By the time the celebration song comes to an end, the four business men as well as their few friends have made their way to the VIP section, finally giving you the room to breathe, only for the loud call of your name have everyone's attention shift to you.

"There she is, the prettiest girl I've ever seen!"

Park Nayeon's voice is filled with excitement, slightly slurred and despite the discomfort of being stared at by your boss and his friends, you can't help but mirror your new friend's big smile as you hand Aeri your glass and get up to approach her.

"I'm so glad we finally got to see each other again!" Her voice is loud and you can feel everyone's eyes boring into you from all sides, but without actually hesitating, you pull the sweet brunette into a tight hug.

"Me too", you say and chuckle at the way she actually places a soft kiss on your cheek, "you look amazing."

"Says you! How does it feel to sit at the table for the sexiest girls in the club?"

Nayeon doesn't miss a beat as she throws her arm over your shoulders and turns to look at your best friends, waving at them with her pretty lips stretched into a bright smile before she introduces herself to your girls.

"Why don't you guys join us in the b-", "Thank you so much, Yeonie. But unfortunately we were just about to leave!"

You're quick to interrupt her to make sure your boss, as well as his friends who have actually approached the four of you as well, hear exactly about your departure.

"Happy birthday, Sir", you say once your gaze lands on the the handsome face of Lee Heeseung, who just thanks you with a soft smile.

"All three of you are sincerely welcome to join us", Sim Jaeyun says and casually shoots you a wink, his plump bottom lip pulled between his teeth and for a moment you can't hide how flustered you get.

The sudden clearance of a throat gains your attention and slightly confused you let your gaze fall to the tallest of the men in front of you.

"Hi there, sweetheart", Park Sunghoon, the company's head lawyer says, his voice just loud enough to reach you through the music and you physically can't stop yourself from smiling even bigger.

"Hi, Hoonie", you smile back and push a strand of hair behind your ear, enjoying the way he seems so genuine when you both know about his reputation.

You'd never sleep with him, not because of the things everyone has to say about him or because he's not your type, but because you'd rather not be part of the girls on his long, long list.

For some reason, your conscience forces you to also verbally acknowledge the main reason for your discomfort, so with a bit of an uncomfortable smile, you turn to look at your boss, who just so happens to have his eyes fixated on you already.

"Good evening, Sir", you say and hate how much you crave his approval, only to be disappointed when Jongseong doesn't deem you worthy of a verbal response. All you get is a nod.

A fucking nod.

"Are you guys sure?", Yeonie asks with genuine sadness in her eyes, yet it's not enough for you to change your mind. You have to leave right now or the mixture of alcohol and anxiety is going to embarrass you to the point of no possible recovery.

"I don't think it's appropriate for us to join you", you suddenly reply way too honest, surprising all of them, including the CEO, with your response, "I know how strict Mr. Park is about keeping things between himself and his employees strictly business, so it's better if we leave now."

Aeri and Minie don't add anything but head movements to your little explanation, too flabbergasted to speak and too overwhelmed to react otherwise.

You have no idea what's gotten into you, the sudden urge to be petty just taking over without giving your brain the time to overthink.

"Well, you're not my employee and these two don't give a fuck about that, too", Sunghoon chuckles and looks at you with amused eyes, "three beats one. We'd love for you all to spend some time with us."

"Come on, Y/N", Lee Heeseung suddenly says and leaves you absolutely defenceless, "are you really going to leave me hanging on my birthday?"

With a quick look to your girls and a nod in response to your silent question, all you can do is shake your head and accept their offer.

The following hour passes with a lot more laughter and silly jokes as well as old high school stories from your boss and his friends than you would have expected, and despite the fact that said superior has yet to acknowledge your existence, you're actually having a good time.

By the time 1AM rolls around, you feel the exhaustion and tiredness of the past week finally catch up on you and with a soft smile, you excuse yourself to go to the ladies' room, refusing your best friends' offer to join you, since you can feel the urge to be by yourself slowly take over you.

After giving yourself five minutes and touching up your lipstick, you make your way back to the group, only for your plans to be stopped as you run into a strong chest.

"What the – Changuk?"

Your ex boyfriend's name leaves your lips almost instinctively as you look up at him and manage to recognize the face you had loved for over a year.

Overwhelmed by the sudden run in, it takes you a good moment to realise that he's wearing a suit, a tiny little label clipped to his chest which approved your assumptions.

"You're a security guard?"

"Well, hello to you too, pretty one", he chuckles and for some reason you forget about your shared past for a single moment. You haven't seen each other in several months, six to be exact. And as your slightly clouded brain tries to stay focused on the most important things, you can't help but somehow feel a sense of comfort hit you.

"Congratulations", Changuk sudddnly says with his pretty lips stretched into a genuine smile, "I heard you got a job at The Park Company."

"Thank you, Chanie", you sigh and try to remain as composed as possible, "I guess I can only give that one back. How come you started working here?"

The two of you catch up a little, your ex boyfriend never once missing the opportunity to start a few flirting attempts, which you determinedly shut down to make sure he doesn't get the wrong message.

You made the mistake of going back to him once, you're not about to make it seen like you'd ever do something as stupid as that again.

As your conversation with the security guard continues, you don't even notice how much time passes, yet you're quite sure nobody would actually notice the length of your absence.

Little do you know that Park Jongseong's eyes have been glued to the very back of the VIP section for the past ten minutes.

And with every additional minute, it seems to get more and more difficult to keep his composure.

Jongseong doesn't understand what it is about you, yet the urge to not only keep you close to himself but also make sure you're alright and well taken care of in general has slowly overtaken every single pore of his body.

He doesn't care about you. He shouldn't. The rules he's set up for himself with your employment are as clear as possible, yet they don't seem enough to stop him from getting up.

With a made up excuse, Jongseong casually makes his way to the very back, knowing he would never forgive himself if something actually did happen to you, even if the possibilities are small.

As he slowly approaches the toilets, Jay can't help but wonder at what point he decided to act on these stupid urges and how he threw all of his plans of keeping everything between the two of you as professional as possible out of the window.

Maybe it's the few glasses of whiskey finally settling into his system or maybe it's his natural protector instinct, but for some stupid reason, he can't help the way he feels about you.

Knowing you've never had a man give what you've obviously been longing for has given him these false hopes that maybe he's the one to do just that.

He's been thinking about your reaction to his little comments about your phone conversation for the past eight hours and the fact he found himself fucking his fist to the thought of you kneeling between his legs, looking up and quietly asking for nothing but a few sweet words of praise and affirmation definitely didn't help with the chaos in his head.

Jay's never had these issues with an employee before. For fuck's sake, he's never had these kind of thoughts about any women before and he absolutely despises it.

You're twentyone years old, way, way younger than the women he usual goes for. On top of it all you work for him, a fact which is usually more than enough for him to ban you from his mind, but here he is.

And as his eyes finally find your pretty figure, Jongseong can't comprehend the amount of annoyance and jealousy flooding his body as he watches the way you chuckle and giggle about whatever the fuck that guard's just said to you.

With his jaw tightly clenched and his hands balled into fists, the CEO tries his very best to calm himself down because there's absolutely no reason for him to react this way.

"I'm glad you're doing so well, pretty one", the guard says softly and slowly lifts his hand to graze your cheeks, sending another hot jolt of jealousy right into the pit of Jongseong's stomach, only for the way you're quickly moving away from his touch to suffocate the flames in one go.

"We're not together anymore, Chanie", you say and push a strand of hair behind your ear, "let's keep the distance that comes with, yeah?"

That's my girl.

The first thought to cross his mind is to claim you, when he hasn't even said a single word to you the past two hours.

At this point Jong feels like laughing at himself for his pathetic behavior.

"Oh, come on, Babe", the tall guard suddenly says and leaves you no room to escape as he cages you in with his hand against the wall, right next to your head, "we're still a dream team, why can't you see it?"

Jongseong carefully and attentively watches your reactions and besides the obvious discomfort, sudden anger grazes your face, a sight he hasn't seen before and can't help but feel intrigued by.

"I don't think one party of a 'dream team' could claim that title after cheating on the other", you spit back at him, brows furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line.

So, turns out your previous boyfriend wasn't only a headache in bed but also a god damn cheater.

For a moment, Jongseong struggles to maintain his composure, the thought of all the pain and heartbreak you went through because that stupid fucker couldn't keep it in his pants simply makes his blood boil.

Despite your reaction, Changuk doesn't seem to be very fazed by it and with an awkward chuckle he just grabs your chin and pulls you closer to his body; his sudden use of strength surprising you to the point where you can barely push your hands against his chest to move away from his touch.

"I've always liked that mouth of yours", he casually replies and nudges his nose against yours and for a moment Jongseong's vision actually turns completely black, the fact that man dared to not only verbally disrespect you but also seems to give absolutely no fucks about your lack of consent leaves him absolutely flabbergasted.

"Back the fuck off, Changuk", you say and struggle to push your ex boyfriend away, forcefully turning your head to the side to escape his attempt of a kiss and as soon as he somehow finds his way back to reality, Jongseong's body acts on his anger before his brain can even give it a single thought.

With just a few steps, your boss appears right behind your ex boyfriend, his brows furrowed and nothing but deep anger lingering in the usually so empty brown of his eyes.

A little yelp escapes you in response to Park Jongseong harshly grabbing the back of Changuk's collar and forcefully pulling him away from you. You don't even get enough time to realise what's happening when Jongseong turns his back on you and gives his full attention to the security guard on the floor.

"M-Mr. Park?"

Because of your boss's height you can't really see your ex boyfriend's expression but just from the shaking of his voice you can tell how genuinely scared he is. As he should be.

It's been about time he finally learns what it means to back off when he's told to.

"If I see you bother her again I'm going to turn you into a plastic surgeon's biggest nightmare, got it? Take your things and get the fuck out of here. Don't bother talking to Mr. Lee about this, I'll do that for you in great detail. Now fuck off and pray to whoever you believe in that we don't run into each other anymore because I won't hold back the next time. Pathetic piece of shit."

You don't know, if it's the meaning behind his words, this particular choice of or just the fact that they have given you a sense of protection in a way you've never experienced it before but for some reason you feel your heartbeat slowing down and a wave of calmness overcoming your anxious system.

Jongseong doesn't say anything else, just waits for Changuk to get up and walk away before he finally turns around to face you and the softness and worry grazing his pretty features definitely surprises you.

"Are you okay, Y/N?" His voice is gentle, his eyes nervously roam your face to look for any kind of discomfort or pain and you hate how much you love the way he looks at you. It's like he'd do anything to keep you safe and protected, comfortable and at ease; something you've never felt with anyone before. And it really had to be with your boss, of all people.

"Yes", you whisper and finally meet his strong gaze, losing yourself in the sweet brown of his iris quicker than you woukd have ever expected, "I mean – Yes, Sir. Thank you so much for stepping in."

"Of course", Jongseong replies quickly, the urge to take your pretty face into his hands and just pull you into his chest taking every bit of oxygen out of his lungs.

"I'm sorry for causing you so much stress and discomfort tonight. It won't ever happen again, I promise. The girls and I are gonna leave now so you can also enjoy the night with your friends and girlfriend."

As the words leave your mouth, you feel a wave of shame and embarrassment hit you yet again; the thought of being the reason why your boss couldn't even enjoy his best friend's birthday like a troubled kid definitely makes you want to disappear forever, yet there's no point in overthinking it.

"Shiah isn't my girlfriend", is the first ghing he clarifies and for a moment you're simply confused as to why he felt the need to do that, "and you didn't cause me any discomfort or stress. I enjoyed tonight and your company really changed things up a bit. Don't be so mean to yourself, Y/N."

"Oh." You physically can't stop the sound from escaping your lips and with big eyes you look up at your boss, only then realising just how close he is.

You can't help but wonder how it might feel to be held by him. The question if his embrace feels even safer and more protective than his presence lingering in the back of your busy mind.

"Thank you, Sir", you whisper and finally get yourself to look away. Your heart not strong enough to lose itself in any more false hopes as it is your boss you're currently looking at.

"Good", Jongseong has to physically bite down ln his tongue to stop himself from crossing a line he's been so adamant about drawing between the two of you by adding a single word, and as he watches the slight shinmer of anticipation dying down in your eyes, he knows he did the right thing. No matter how much it hurts his heart.

The young CEO simply can't do anything which might give you the wrong message. He won't sleep with you and despite the disgusting need to give you verbal affirmation and make you feel good about yourself, it's never going to go past that.

And after so many years and meeting different kinds of women, Jongseong knows why you're looking at him like that. You want what he can absolutely give you, yet for the first time in his life he can't bear the thought of the possible outcomes.

"I'm gonna call my chauffeur so he can drop you off at home and please text me once you've arrived. I wanna make sure you're all safe."

Those are his last words before he finally forces himself to turn his back on you again, not realising that his lack of self control regarding you is going to be a bigger problem than he could have ever imagined.

← 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →

(A/N: and here we are! different than the other two smaus this one started off pretty esrly with the written chap but i felt like it was needed to understand their thought process for the following chapters! i hope you guys enjoyed it and thank you so much for all the love and support, i love you so much 🥺 feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!!!!🧸🤍)

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#enhypen social media au #enhypen smau #enhypen x reader #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff #enhypen jay smut #jay enhypen smut #enhypen smut #park jongseong smut #park jongseong angst #park jongseong fluff #park jongseong x reader #park jay x reader #park jongseong social media au

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starrrlights · 4 months ago

Text

Based on something in my notes app (copy and pasted too but edited to make sense) maybe oc Jay? Idk

you and Jason had became friends when you were on the streets, helping each other when needed and also just being there for each other. When he became robin, with #BruceWayneBenifits, he was able to help you more. Often letting you have sleepovers at the manor and hanging out. You both grow to have feeling for each other, and you were planning on telling him on his birthday or sum, but he died. So you never find out if he felt the same way or not (he does)

Time skip (5? Possibly 6 even?) Years later when Jason comes back alive and is less vengeful of his death, Jason frequently goes to old book stores to find good books to read. He goes to one frequently and the vibe felt off that day.

He thinks there might be a threat and keeps a good eye on everything. While browsing; surprise, surprise, you are there. Standing somewhat next to him. You obviously don't recognize him right away or at all from how different he looks. You're trying to find a specific book that a friend had recommended and just so happen to get closer to Jason little by little. (You have social anxiety)

You don't want to get to close to this person because of personal space and well, he's huge. Handsome looking, but huge, and a lot of scars. Which was kinda a hot look on him. You steal a few glances at him, hoping he wouldn't notice.

Jason does notice, since the Pit heightened his senses. (I think? I read it from somewhere that it did 🤷‍♀️) He finally looks over at you, expecting you to just be a normal Gothamite who is just scared of his size; when he freezes for a second. Recognizing the your hair and style almost immediately. He thinks he's hallucinating. There no way it was you.

You notice that he was looking at you and you almost shy at his gaze. Mumbling a sorry and returning your gaze to the books in front of you, but knowing that the book you're looking for is probably right in front of the man.

Jason panics a lot in the inside. Do you recognize him? Do you hate him? Are you afraid of him? He's you jaybird, why you'd you be afraid?

You mentally punch yourself and raised your voice a bit, taking a breath.

U: "I think that book I'm looking for is by you. Can I look?"

Oh my god, he's going to say no-

J: "Sure, that's fine."

God, if you could faint, you would. Not only looks handsome, but sounds handsome.

Jason on the other hand let's put a mental and physical sigh of relief, now thinking that you probably don't even recognize him. It saddens him a little at that thought but it was better, way better than having you scared of him.

He scoots over and you scoot closer, looking over more books until your predictions were right and the book you were looking for was right by where he was standing. You mutter a thank you and move so he can continue looking in the spot he was in.

He doesn't even register that you were moving away because he was so enchanted by you. you had grown up and matured. And damn did you look good. A lot better than he did in his opinion.

J: "I-uh, have me met before?"

Jason asked. 'Great going, idiot. All the romance novels you've read and that's what you come up with?' He thinks to himself.

U: "..I don't think so? What's your name?"

He's sweating bullets now. What does he say? Does he sat jason or use a fake name?

"Jason"

You've met many Jason's so you don't think about it. But there seems to be a familiar aura to him. But you can't put a finger on it. It's going to eat you up later but you put the thought to the side for now. Out of habit you stuck your hand out in a polite way.

"(Name)"

Jason almost said "I know" but bite his tongue and nodded, reaching out to shake you hand. Jesus, you hand fit so well with his. So warm and welcoming.

you and Jason talk for a bit more, it was awkward but it worked. You ended up switching numbers for "book recommendations". But you both were giggling like school girl in the inside because of it.

Over several months, you got to know Jason. And he reminded you a lot of Jason, your dead friend and crush. It saddened you a bit but you decided to not dwell on the past so much. You'll just visit his grave soon, again.

It wasn't long before Dick encouraged Jason to ask you on a date. Well, going out for coffee/fav drink bev and talk about books. You agreed and you did the date.

You had a great time. It was slightly awkward but it was just like all the other hang outs, but more special.

Jason asks you what your life is like because he wants to know what your life has been like since he was gone. He had asked before during those mothes about resent stuff, but he wanted to know more, like high-school years and such.

Boring, you said. Mostly the same thing over and over again. You told some funny stories and it made Jason want to genuinely smile. He makes up a few things to not have to talk about the Pit or dying. Or being Red Hood.

You go on a few more dates and finally, he takes you on a fancy one. (Using Bruce's card ofc)

You initially declined going on a fancy date, not really having the money or outfits for it but jason insisted and said he'd had one of his friends to go with for shopping if you needed it. (Steph or Cass idk, some fem friend he has.)

You ended up going shopping with his friend and got a nice dress.

You go on the fancy date and had a great time as always, a bit panic on the bill but jason pays for it all. He's a true gentleman for you and only you.

At this point, your bf and gf

I think jason would wait for about a year, you make sure things are secured and there is a lot of trust in the friendship/relationship before dropping hints that he is your not-so-dead best friend. He just wants you to know that he is back :(

One night, trying to sleep, it clicks for you. You immediately go to his apartment and knock on the door. He thanks whoever runs his life for the great full night of not patrolling that night and answers the door. You have tears going down your face and look puffy. He panics and asks if you're alright. You look at him with a confused but surprised lookin your face

U: "Jason Todd? ... Jaybird?"

He also has a look of shock on his face, happy that you finally got it but also scared of your reaction.

J: "... ... yeah. It's me."

U: "Oh my god..."

You stare at each other for about a solid minute and you break down, crying, hands to your face. He panics more and freezes, not knowing if they were good or bad tears. You reached out and hugged him tight. Feeling his out grown and bigger frame in your arms. You finally have your best friend back. And your dating him. You love him. And you know he loves you. All of your dreams have finally come true. Obv not financial ones but wvr.

It ends up with you cuddling jason on his bed or sum. idk.

Kinda long ngl, I have a good grasp of what his character is like but I may have a few things wrong. Pls tell me if something is ooc, I'd probably fix it or sum 🫶🏻😭

#writing #x reader #fanfic #fem reader in mind #fem reader #f!reader #gn reader?#jason todd x reader #Jason Todd x reader #Jason Todd #DC #is this called a blurb? idk #Live Laugh Love Jason Todd

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heartilywrites · 8 months ago

Note

could you write a fluff korra x fem reader fic? i loved give in to me!!

omg hi !! im so glad you loved it 🥺 this is my first request, hope you enjoyed it and love it as much as i loved writing it!!!

،، 𝓡eady? Take 3! ; Korra

request guide | masterlist

resume: Korra had been wanting to tell you how she felt for quite some time now.

content warning: fluff and comfort ; fem and earthbender!reader ; for plotting reasons, Mako and Korra never had a relationship ; a long os 'cause I kinda got excited ; no use of y/n ; the only thing I described from physical looks are the eyes, but because the ppl from the Earth Kingdom have green eyes ;

word count: 2.5k

“ 𝓘 made my mind long ago, but I still needed more time.

Love can be such a magical thing, can't it? Falling in love with someone you appreciate, feeling like you're floating when you are near to that person, butterflies in your stomach when you have them near, an electric touch when their hands are on you, your heart beating a hundred per second. . . Okay, sometimes it may be confused with anxiety, but Korra felt that way with you. In a good way! Korra thought love would be easy to handle for her. I mean, she's the avatar! she should be able to do everything, right?

But it was hard for her to understand how it worked. She knew you since her probending days with the team, between Bolin and you were helping her with her earthbending. She realize she was in love with you on one of the practices where Bolin was absent because he felt asleep.

That time alone with you made her realized how much she loved spending time with you, how she felt complete with you near, how her heart raced when she made you laugh and how she adored having your whole attention.

So she thought about talking about it to you.

Three tries. It took her three tries to say what she wanted. The first one was at the Glacier Spirits Festival.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Who are we staring at?” Asami said over her shoulder, scaring the brunette one, making her jump in her place.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “No one!” she was quick to exclaim, but the pale girl looked the way she was and smiled excited when she saw you scolding Bolin for shoving a whole bird in his mouth. “You know, staring at her won't do anything.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Do what? I don’t know what you're talking about, I don’t want to do anything.” the avatar mumbled, looking away. Asami laugh softly.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Sure you don't.” she smiled, one of her arms passed the brunette's shoulders. “Let's go, I'll take Bolin from her and you can stay and do nothing.” Asami tried to copy her friend's tone while she forced the avatar to walk your way.

When the pair arrived with you, your eyes lit up at the sight of Korra. She was too nervous to notice. “Hey, I need Bolin for a couple of minutes; I brought you another companion in exchange!” the inventor spoke.

Asami shoved Korra to you and was quick to take Bolin by the wrist to take him away with a 'but, my food!' complaint from him. The avatar was quick to straighten after bumping into you, her cheeks were light pink and her smile was nervous. “Hi. . . Uhm, do you want to play the booths?” she asked timidly pointing at one with mini Aangs in it.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I would love to!” you exclaimed and that gave Korra the courage to take you hand and walk to the booth.

The night was great, both of you were having the best time of your lives. Laughing, cheating in the most subtle way possible, eating a bunch of things until your stomach was full. She won a flying bison and a koalaotter plushies while you won a badgermole. At the end of the night, both of you were walking back to the tents where the whole group were staying at.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “You should've seen your face when the ferris wheel stopped at the top!” she had been laughing at you for about five minutes now and you couldn't resist to join her.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I hate heights! Stop making fun of me!” you tried to defend yourself while holding your stomach. It didn't took long to get to the tents. “It was fun, Korra. I had a great night, thank you.”

The southerner smiled fondly at you before nodding. “I had a great night too. . .” both of you stayed quiet while arriving to the doorstep of the tents, but it was a comfortable silence. “Listen, I...”

The sight of your green eyes stopped her words. It was right there, that was the moment, she needed to do it.

Korra took a big breath in.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I want you to have the koalaotter.” she said, cowering at the last second. You smiled big and took the plushie when she extended it.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Thank you!” you exclaimed admiring the plushie while Korra admired you. A moment later you extended the badgermole back at her. “Let's exchange, I want you to have it. I have something from you and you have something from me.” you said blushing hard. She accepted more than grateful and smiled at you.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I'll take good care of it.” she said, getting a small 'I know you will' from you before waving goodbye for the night.

Maybe she had a chance?

The second time was in Zaofu.

After helping prevent the kidnapping of Korra by the Red Lotus, you were the first one to come in once the girl got her mobility back.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “My spirits, Korra!” you exclaimed running to give her a hug which was pretty much reciprocated with a bit of strength from the Avatar. “I'm glad you're okay. I got so scared.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Me too.” she murmured close to your ear. Seconds that felt like hours, Korra spent in your arms, breathing in your scent while she could feel how fast your own breathing was. “I'm here, don't worry.”

You separated a little bit from the hug to look at her face and smiled fondly at her, she smiled back at you. A clear of throat busted the bubble you both were in. “Go get some rest, kids, we'll be making the questioning at first thing in the morning.” Lin said, both of you looked at her and then at each other.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I'll take her to her bed.” you told them before helping the southern stand up, you made her rest one of her arms on your shoulders and one of yours wrapped around her waist so she could lean on you completely.

The walk to Korra's room was slow, you didn't pressure her to walk faster and she thanked that in silence.

Once at her room you helped her to get in and tuck her in, giving Naga a pet when she got closer to make sure her friend was fine.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I'm going to stay here a little bit if you need anything.” you said, sitting by her side in the bed, she smiled.

She looked for your hand which you took without a problem into yours, leaving caresses on the back of her hand with your thumb. Both of you stayed quiet, your eyes looking at the union of hands and her eyes tracing your silhouette, making sure she got your image printed in her head.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I shouldn't ask you to come here with me. It's dangerous.” she broke the silence surrounding you both, you frowned looking up at her.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Don't be ridiculous, Korra. I know when to agree or decline to things.” you said, a bit annoyed at what you heard.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Yeah, but I put you in danger and–” you interrupted her.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I'm here because I like being with you.” she blinked surprised. “If I can help you, I will. I appreciate you a lot, Korra, you're my friend.”

And at the noun used on her, her whole confession faded away. You looked at her as a friend, she thought. She sighed and nodded. “You need to rest, we have people to question in a couple of hours.” the avatar responded, smiling a little bit. You nodded, standing up and making the attempt to walk out. The hand she had intertwined with yours pulled you back, you looked at her surprise. “Let's do a sleepover, yeah?” she made space on the bed.

You thought about it for a second before smiling and accepting the offer, it took both of you a great amount of three minutes to fall asleep, facing each other, feeling at ease with the presence of the other.

The third time was three years after saying goodbye to her, she was going back to the Southern Water Tribe. She said she needed time to herself, you send her letters everyday, getting letter back every couple of weeks and one day it suddenly stopped.

You didn't thought much of it, maybe she was just preparing everything to come back to the city and you didn't had time either to think about it.

Once you were told Kuvira's plan to attack Zaofu, you went back to the city in a try to help Suyin. After all, she helped you learn how to metalbend and you felt like that was the least you could do.

You arrived a couple of hours before Korra, but didn't cross her way since after talking to Suyin you got to an emergency training taught by the twins to make sure your metalbend was sharp.

After that, you got to sleep since the twins got the best out of you in just hours, missing the reunion with the avatar and got woken up by Wing saying they needed help to take Kuvira from the camp outside Zaofu, and so you did. Then got captured.

On your suit you narrowed your eyes at the silhouettes facing Kuvira. They shot back open in surprise. “Korra!?”

The avatar's heart raced, the feelings she ignored all that time resurfaced when she saw you. Trapped. You were moving desperate to get out of the trap. “Dear spirits, no...” she murmured to herself, the girl stayed in line, she tried not to freak out and attack Kuvira at that moment, she needed to come to an agreement.

The southerner could feel your gaze on her, she was desolate trying to win the fight to get you out of there. To have you in her arms and hold you tight. To tell you how much she missed you.

But the luck wasn't on her side that day and she lost. You watched how the flying bison got away with tears in your eyes, wishing, hoping to get a chance with her.

The next days captured with the Beifongs were... An experience. You were so grateful when you saw Lin, Bolin and Toph appear, you were the second one to get out and helped as much as you could to get out of the factory safe.

You were behind Suyin, Bolin and Zhu Li when they interrupted the president's meeting. When Korra laid eyes on you she was quick to hug you, a strong grip between the both of you.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I'm so glad to see you.” you said in a sigh, it almost felt like a weight fell off your shoulders.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I am too... You have no idea how much I missed you.” she said back, after a while you two took a step back. “I need to tell you something.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “It will have to wait, we have big problems.” even though you stopped her from talking and made her pay attention to Zhu Li, you took her hand. You needed to feel her touch to make sure it was her and not another dream.

Since the matter was life or death, both of you were able to put on hold the confessions to have your head in the game and survive whatever Kuvira threw at you. Plans were made, groups designated and goodbyes said from one group to another. It felt like the end of something, but everyone was so hopeful for a good ending.

And you were too, but you needed to do something before.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Hey, Korra, I need to talk to you.” you called the southerner, pulling the girl by the hand a little bit farther from the group. “Okay, listen, I've been trying to tell you this for years now, but I just couldn't–”

Your words got caught up in your mouth when you felt the lips of the girl infront of you press into yours. It was a sweet kiss, full of emotions coming from both sides and a bit desperate in the act.

Her lips knew their way around yours, it was almost like you two already knew how to exchange that gesture. Her hands found their way in your waist just as yours rest confidently in her shoulders, she pulled you as close to her as the anatomy would allow.

Once both yours and her lungs where burning in need of air, you pulled away. She rest her forehead in yours, her eyes were still closed for a bit before opening them and stumbling into your gaze. The one she had been loving since you arrived to her life, she smiled.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I love you.” she confessed finally, your cheeks were just as red as hers and you let a light giggle left your mouth. “I love you so much, since you first stomped in my feet at the probending gym.” your face got even more red at the memory. “I'm sorry for disappearing and for not writing you back enough, I just... I needed time to heal.”

You shook your head a bit, reassuring her with a little smile. “It doesn't matter, you are here, you are okay and I couldn't ask for more... I love you too, Korra, I always had.” the avatar could swear her heatbeats were loud enough for everyone on the place to hear them.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Once this is done I want to take you out. You and me alone.” she said before finally taking a step back from you, taking your hand into hers.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Sounds like a date.” you agreed before leaving a small peck in her lips.

And then, the final battle took place.

People were flying here and there. You learned to use the metal wires and took Bolin or Mako up and down when needed, so it was safe to say once the Colossus was defeated and Kuvira arrested you were tired to your bones. There you stood, with the whole group, taking a break.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Alright, excuse me.” Korra said walking to you and hugging you by the waist while giving you a kiss. You could hear gasps, both of surprise and excitement.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “WHAT!?” Bolin screamed with his jaw dropped, Mako had almost a same expression meanwhile Asami, Jinora and Ikki where smiling excited, Ikki was jumping in her place.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I heard we will be going to a wedding.” you said once you both ended the gesture, referring to Zhu Li and Varrick's wedding when Varrick showed off his fiancee's ring while looking for Korra after the portal opened. “Wanna be my plus one?”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Ooh, I would love to.” she giggled before turning to everyone else. “. . .I think we should get out of here.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “AREN'T YOU GOING TO TELL US HOW DID THIS HAPPENED!?” Bolin continued to scream.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Oh, they will. They have to or I'm going to make them.” Asami said, Mako laughed.

Maybe it was worth it to wait all those years for one of you to take the step, all the yearning and adoration for one to another made the result of that waiting so sweet, just as both of you had been dreaming of.

#the legend of korra #korra x reader #the legend of korra x reader #korra x you #korra x fem!reader #one shot #avatar korra #korra fluff #korra fanfic #request

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year ago

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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