#<- these tags are worth going through too!

[futbolfatale]

Origin Story

Pairing: Alpha Alexia Putellas/Omega Reader, Omega Mapi León/Omega Reader, Alpha Ingred Engen/Omega Reader,

Summary: You get invited to a Barca game by an Alpha at your school who wouldn't accept.

Tags/Warnings: Dubious consent, Bathroom sex, scent marking,

Note: Only is Mapi the only one in this but there will probs be a part 2 with the rest of the pack.

The only reason I've been writing lately is @insomniakisses who definitely doesn't know I exist but I love their blog.

Something about their writing has inspired me for better or worse.

Wordcount: 1.1K

When you got invited to the Barca vs Real Madrid Game by a girl at your college of course you accepted.  She was in a couple of your classes but all you knew about her is that she is an alpha and is kind of a dick. But you would be crazy not to know how expensive tickets are and surely she can’t be as bad as everyone says. But this girl surely has another motive for inviting you. It will come to light soon as you sit next to each other in the crowded stadium. Her scent is aggressive forward and fills the space around you it's almost like Lily and maybe an undertone of patchouli. Overall not the best when you're already surrounded by unfamiliar scents. 

You can’t help but grow excited as they walk out. Okay, so you may have a major crush on some of the players. By some you mean most but it makes since it’s pretty common knowledge that the different teams are packs. Which makes transfers even more devastating. Even so, everyone knows that Barca has two omegas already which is already more than most other packs. They differently don’t need another which is devastating to you but it's not like you could ever be with them anyway. It’s rare for a Futbal pack to mate with someone outside of the football world.

It’s around 20 minutes in before Maddie, whose name you’ve just learned, takes off her sweater revealing that she is wearing a Real Madrid jersey. “Are you seriously wearing that right now?” You ask incredulously. “Ya Real Madrid is going to win, I promise you. They are the superior team,” she responded as if you were stupid for thinking any different. “Barca is definitely better, they have a stacked roster.” You argue back, growing more annoyed. Most likely due to her attitude problem and overwhelming scent. “Real Madrid will win” She seems so assured of herself as if she can already see the outcome of the game. “That's never going to happen. I bet you Barca will win and If they don’t I will write your next essay for you.”. “Deal”

It's not even 10 minutes later that Hansen scores and you're left with a smile on your face. It’s a good feeling to know your rights. Maybe you’ll pick up a sweet treat on the way home. You deserve it after dealing with this idiot. But it's all worth it for free tickets. “I told you” You gloat but only a little. “They're going to pull through one goal doesn’t mean anything,” Maddie responds sharpley her scent turning sour. “One goal can be the difference between winning and losing” You count to praud her mostly for your amusement. “ You think I don’t know that. I know football better than you.” She growls her fangs obvious in her aggressive state. So maybe you fucked with her a little too much but god it was so funny. “Sorry,” You startle as Pajor scores. You definitely made the right choice when picking a team to support.

By the end of the game, you are bursting with excitement a 5-0 win is crazy. You can feel Maddie seething beside you but it doesn’t sour your mood. As you move to stand at the barricade watching the players trade jerseys and such. Then Mapi Leon comes to your section and you're practically vibrating as she strips off her jersey. She walks closer to you her scent is so strong probably from running for so long. “ Would you like it?” She asks looking directly into your eyes. It's like a shock to your system “Yes” You take it from her gratefully and she flashes a toothy grin. “You so pretty princess” Her voice is so low. “Thank you” You can’t help but blush as she sprints off to join her team.

You gather up your things and walk out of the stadium with Maddie. You are starting to feel overheated and are growing quickly annoyed by Maddie.  Her mood has only seemed to worsen since the end of the game. The heated feeling only grows as you move through the stadium. “I’m going to run to the bathroom before we leave.” You split off from Maddie not waiting to hear her response. You have all your things if she leaves you it won’t be the end of the world. You slip into the bathroom and lock yourself in. You lean against the wall and take a deep breath of the jersey. It smells strongly of citrus and has an undertone of cinnamon. It soothes some of the heat under your skin.

You startle as the bathroom opens and someone else steps inside. It takes a moment for their scent to register. Citrus and cinnamon same as the jersey. You open the stall door and peek out to see Mapi standing by the door looking directly at you. “I thought I could smell you in here” She hurried towards you and pushed you back into the stall. “What are you doing” You ask dropping the jersey as she grabs your wrist. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You smell so good” She nuzzles her face into your neck. “Let me have you please” She whispers her accent thicker than before. “You want me but you have Ona if you want an omega” You reason. Sure you want this but you want her to think clearly. “I can and have had Ona but I want you. Once I have had you im sure they will want you as well.” she pushes you into the wall and slides a hand down your pants. Her fingers trace along your cunt through your underwear. “Say yes please I need you” She whimpers into your shoulder tonguing at your scent gland. “Yes. Yes please” you moan rolling your hips against her hand. She slides her fingers past your underwear to rub at your clit. ‘Take me please I need it too bad.”You moan grinding against her. “Shh you can have it see” she slips two fingers inside you with ease. It makes you uncomfotbly aware of how slick you are. It only last a second before shes distracting you by moving her fingers and using her other hand to rub at you clit.

You cum twice before Mapi finally lets up. As you catch you breath she is collecting your things and straightening out your clothes and hair. “ Come with me we are having dinner tonight. Please,” she asks tacting on the please almost as an afterthought. “I'll go but I've got school tomorrow and I really can’t afford to miss any more of my lectures this semester.” You explain as the two of you head out of the stall. Mapi stops to wash her hands before leading you out of the stadium.

[aventurineswife]

Hello earthian!! Can I request where aventurine, ratio, and whatever characters u wanna add with their kid begging for a sibling. This idea occupied my mind for days^^

“I want a sibling!”

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Fluff, Humor, Established Relationship, Parenting, Suggestive Themes, Family Dynamics, Light Angst(?), Playful Banter.

Warnings: Mildly Suggestive Content (Implied intimacy), Parent-Child Discussion of Siblings (Handled in a light and humorous tone), Reader Embarrassment, Mentions of Childhood Loneliness (in the context of the child wanting a sibling), Reader is referred to as 'Renny' as a gender-neutral term for mom or dad.

The soft clink of bracelets echoed in the room as Aventurine leaned against the edge of the grandiose dining table, his signature smile curving on his lips. His eyes sparkled as he watched your child, a spirited seven-year-old with eyes like his, puff out their chest in determination.

“Papa,” the child declared, stomping a tiny foot for emphasis, “I want a sibling! Someone to play cards with me—and win! Renny's too busy, and you always say you’re unbeatable!”

You nearly choked on your tea, coughing violently as heat flushed to your face. “W-Well, sweetie,” you stammered, setting down your cup, “it’s not… it’s not that simple!”

Aventurine’s grin widened as he crouched to your child’s eye level. “Oh, is that so?” he purred, a teasing lilt in his voice. “You’re requesting an addition to our little family? Quite the gamble, don’t you think?”

The child’s eyes sparkled. “I’m serious, Papa! You said you’re good at making plans. Make a sibling plan!”

You buried your face in your hands, muttering, “I’m going to die of embarrassment.”

Aventurine chuckled and ruffled the child’s hair. “Alright, little one. I’ll talk to your parent about… the logistics.”

The child beamed, clapping their hands before darting off, presumably to draw up a “sibling plan” themselves.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Aventurine rose, striding over to you with that infuriatingly charming smirk. “Logistics, hmm?” he murmured, his hands finding your waist.

“Don’t you dare,” you warned, though your voice lacked conviction.

“Oh, but I think it’s worth discussing,” he whispered, leaning close until his lips brushed your ear. “After all, I am very good at planning... and execution.”

You swatted at his chest, your face burning hotter than the Sigonian desert. “You’re impossible!”

“And yet,” he teased, pulling you closer, “you still can’t resist me.”

The evening was calm in Ratio’s study, the golden hues of a setting sun casting a warm glow over the shelves lined with books and artifacts. You were seated comfortably in an armchair, flipping through a datapad, while Ratio scribbled something in his journal, his violet hair catching the light.

Your child burst in, their eyes filled with excitement. “Daddy! Renny!” they called, rushing over to Ratio’s desk.

Ratio set down his pen, tilting his head curiously. “Yes, little scholar?”

“I want a sibling,” the child announced, planting their hands firmly on the desk. “It’s boring being an only kid. Everyone else at school has brothers or sisters!”

You blinked, stunned by their bluntness. “Oh… well… that’s…”

Ratio leaned back in his chair, one hand thoughtfully stroking his chin. “Interesting proposition,” he mused, his tone as serious as if the child had asked him to solve a mathematical theorem. “Have you considered the variables involved?”

The child frowned. “What’s a variable?”

“Time, energy, resources,” Ratio said, ticking off on his fingers. “And, most importantly, whether your parent and I agree to the hypothesis.”

Your face turned scarlet. “Veritas!”

He smirked slightly, meeting your gaze. “Am I wrong?”

The child tilted their head, clearly not grasping the layers of meaning in his words. “So… does that mean yes?”

Ratio chuckled, patting the child’s head. “It means your parent and I need to conduct… further discussions. Why don’t you go revise your spelling words while we deliberate?”

With a satisfied nod, the child ran off, leaving the study in blissful silence.

You crossed your arms, glaring at your husband. “Further discussions? Really?”

Ratio stood, his hair falling into his eyes as he approached you with a teasing smirk. “I see no flaws in their logic,” he said, leaning close enough that you could see the gold flecks in his eyes. “Perhaps we should test their hypothesis.”

You groaned, covering your face. “I can’t believe you’re entertaining this.”

“I’m merely responding to a valid inquiry,” he replied smoothly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. His voice dipped lower, sending a shiver down your spine. “But… I admit, I’m curious to see how this experiment might unfold.”

Your protest died in your throat as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing yours.

“Veritas…” you murmured, half-exasperated, half-enchanted.

He pulled back slightly, his smirk deepening. “Shall we begin our research?”

[hannahmanderr]

First Contact

My initial fic for the @infiniterealms event! Please feel free to take it and remix it however you'd like! I only have two requests if you do:

Tag me in the fic or send me a message about it so I can read it!

Please do not turn this into a crossover, include strong gore/violence, or write it as Bad Parents Jack and Maddie!

(AO3) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Approaching coordinates.”

The words, spoken by a smooth, androgynous voice, echo in the tiny cockpit of the Specter Speeder. They don’t quite reach Maddie’s ears, however. She is too engrossed contemplating the invitation in her hands.

It arrived four days ago. They’re not sure how; it was simply sitting there, taped to the closed doors of the Portal when they entered the lab that morning. That alone was unsettling - someone or something would have had to enter the house unnoticed, go to the basement to leave the envelope, and then leave without detection - but it was the invitation itself that was even more unsettling.

She runs a finger across the small, single piece of heavy parchment. The envelope, left behind in a containment unit in the lab, had been made of the same material. Durable as it appears to be, it feels oddly fragile under her fingertip, as if it is struggling to materialize itself for her to be able to touch in the first place. Even through her jumpsuit, she can feel the bitter cold radiating off of the shimmery black parchment. If she tilts it just right, she can almost see the twinkle of frost.

The invitation itself is embossed on the parchment, written in loopy cursive in ectoplasmic green:

By order of the Office of the High King of the Infinite Realms,

His Majesty formally requests the presence of Dr. and Dr. Fenton of Amity Park this Saturday the Seventeenth at 4 o’clock PM, EST (Earth-based) at the Royal Residence.

Refreshments will be provided. Weapons welcome.

Cordially,

Glinforblimph, Scribe to His Majesty

Below the scribe’s nearly illegible signature is what Maddie assumes to be the king’s seal - a complicated arrangement of stars that form a spiral - and below that is the strangest part of the invitation.

A set of coordinates, hastily handwritten on what seems to be a very average, very human Post-it note, taped to the bottom of the parchment, as if they were added as an afterthought.

Maddie thumbs the Post-it note. Why the coordinates weren’t included in the original invitation is beyond her, and she’s not sure whether to feel appreciative that the king and his staff at least remembered to include them at all or offended that they hadn’t been included in the first place. 

Part of her still wonders if the whole thing is a ruse, if the coordinates lead to some trap. It’s a possibility that she and Jack had debated heatedly for days. She had been far more inclined to see it as a trap, but Jack had reasoned that any ghost calling himself a High King would probably just attack them outright rather than going through an elaborate charade such as this. Ghosts are far from primitive creatures, they know, but Jack too pointed out that with how important power (real or perceived) is to a ghost’s social standing, any ghost worth their salt is far more likely to make a public display of attacking them if that is what he wants, simply for the free advertisement of his power.

Maddie can’t really argue with that logic.

Plus, she can’t deny her rabid curiosity about the whole ordeal. An invitation such as this is a far cry from the M.O. of the ghost that kidnapped Amity Park to the Ghost Zone once, the one who also called himself a king. This is clearly someone else’s work, and though she’ll never admit it out loud, she’s dying to know whose it is. Not to mention the intrigue surrounding the whole concept of the Ghost Zone having a High King. Is it a true king? Merely a figurehead? A ghost who has simply declared themselves king with no real political power? Is it a title handed down or won?

Her mind drifts to Vlad. In college, she, Jack, and Vlad had balanced each other out well when it came to their studies on ghosts. She was the biochemist. Jack was the engineer. Vlad was, for lack of a better term, the anthropologist. He’d always been fascinated with the history and culture of ghosts, the side of ecto-science she and Jack had never taken as much interest in. She wonders if he still holds that interest, or if he happens to know anything about the apparent ghost political hierarchy.

Maybe she should’ve asked. 

“Mads, look.”

Jack’s warm voice startles her out of her thoughts. She glances up to where he’s sitting beside her in the pilot’s seat, navigating them through the Zone with a grin on his face. A burst of affection floods her chest. He’s worn that grin ever since they got up this morning; his excitement over entering the Ghost Zone for the first time (aside from the aforementioned mass kidnapping) is not easily contained, and something about it reminds Maddie of why she fell in love with him in the first place.

He catches her watching him, and the grin widens into a laugh. “No, not at me, look out there,” he says with all the enthusiasm of a child on Christmas morning.

She looks out the front window, where he’s pointed with his head, and her stomach does a funny little swoop as she spots a large palace looming ahead of them. 

Even if they hadn’t had the coordinates, Maddie knows she would’ve been able to instantly peg this palace as the Ghost King’s. Inexplicably, she can feel its presence, even from within the Specter Speeder. Cold and commanding, like a glacier, broadcasting far and wide that this is the lair of a truly powerful ghost, every bit befitting a king. She wonders what it must feel like to an average ghost, if its aura is strong enough to be perceived by a human like herself.

Strangely, though, as her eyes rove over the black stone adorned in something that sparkles in the light - glass? Ice? - she also gets a sense of security, of ease. Like entering her house after fighting through the snow and cold. The idea itself unsettles her, the fact that a ghost’s lair’s aura can have this sort of profound effect, but the effect itself is too overwhelming for the anxiety to dominate.

It’s a bizarre feeling to have to sit with, nonetheless.

“Huh,” Jack says as he begins their descent.

“What’s that?”

“Do you think they know we’re coming?”

Maddie hums. “I would expect so. Why?”

“There’s only one guard.”

Maddie blinks, then adjusts her gaze. Sure enough, the entrance to the castle is staffed by a single guard. Not that she had been expecting a welcoming parade, of course, but she can’t wrap her head around why a king would leave his castle so defenseless, especially if he really is expecting them.

“Maybe they’re all on their lunch?” Jack cracks a grin at his own joke, and Maddie can hear the echo of her kids’ groans in her head. 

“They could be hiding,” Maddie points out. “Or invisible.”

“Radar’s only picking up the one.”

The guard has noticed their approach. She takes some solace in the fact that it doesn’t immediately prepare an attack, or that hundreds of other guards don’t suddenly appear out of the woodwork.

“Just take us in gently, sweetie,” she says. Her fists begin to tighten until she remembers that she’s still holding the king’s invitation. Swallowing, she smooths it out and stares at the king’s seal. “We don’t know what we’re walking into.”

____________________________________________________________

It’s nearly fifteen minutes after they land that they finally exit the Specter Speeder. Putting on the safety gear they had brought in such a tiny space proved to be more difficult than they’d expected, but it was necessary. The arrival of the king’s invitation had left them little time to determine if the atmosphere of the Ghost Zone was habitable for humans (how they had neglected to do this research for nearly three years, Maddie couldn’t fathom), and so precautions had to be taken. 

Oxygen masks and tanks, of course. Bulkier HAZMAT suits over their standard ecto-resistant jumpsuits. Special goggles, jetpacks for potential low-gravity travel, a body cam for each of them to record everything. Oddly enough, it had been Jack who had wanted to bring more equipment for data collection, but Maddie had nixed it due to how difficult it already was to wear everything. 

And then, last but not least, their weapons. Maddie had been unsure why she felt such trepidation as she attached her staff and two ecto-blasters to her hip, but it was enough to cause her to nearly drop the staff.

Maybe she was simply hoping she won’t have to use them.

Now, though, as she and Jack near the castle, she eyes the spear strapped to the guard’s back. The tip glints wickedly, and even though it’s a ghost’s weapon, she somehow knows it can hurt her just as easily as a ghost.

Being prepared against these threats is just good practice, she tells herself.

“State your name and your business,” the guard says the moment they’re within hearing range.

Maddie breathes in deeply. The artificial air in her mask leaves her nose feeling dry. “I am Maddie Fenton,” she says. She tries to keep her voice confident, but she’s unsure if it’s coming across. “This is my husband, Jack Fenton. We were invited by your king to come here today.”

The guard glances over each of them in turn. “You will remove your equipment and surrender all weapons before entering the palace,” they say, a haughty air to their voice.

Although she can’t see it, Maddie can sense Jack opening his mouth to respond. She cuts him off with a raise of her hand, quick and gentle. She loves Jack to the ends of the Earth and back - boisterousness and all - but these are uncharted waters. One misspoken word could potentially spell out disaster for humankind.

“We were told our weapons were welcome,” Maddie says to the guard, careful to keep her voice as even as possible. “It said so in the invitation.” Slowly, purposefully, she reaches into her pocket and pulls out the parchment, extending it to the guard.

The guard snatches it out of her hand, regarding her with a disdainful look before examining it. She has half a mind to snatch it back. Who is this ghost to go around treating her like scum of the earth?

Instead, she curls her hand into a tight fist and forces herself to even her breath. This isn’t even close to being the same as confronting the ghosts in Amity Park. For all intents and purposes, she and Jack are in enemy territory, on the turf of supposedly the most powerful ghost of them all. The two of them may have a reputation for being trigger-happy, but she’s not so stupid as to pick a fight she knows she’ll lose.

As much as it sickens her to admit that she knows she’ll lose against even someone like the Ghost King.

The guard’s frown deepens as they run a finger over the king’s seal. Maddie watches in wonder as a tiny aurora shimmers to life above the seal before evaporating into the ambient ectoplasm. The guard looks nearly as surprised.

“This does appear to be authentic,” they murmur to themselves. Glancing back up at her and Jack, their expression darkens again. “Still, I cannot in good conscience allow you into the palace with potential threats. I am the captain of the royal guard. The safety of His Majesty, his palace, and all who reside within it are my utmost priority. I will not allow anything to endanger them.”

“But surely you’re bound to follow your king’s orders,” Maddie argues. “You said so yourself that the invitation is authentic. That means he’s already said that we can bring our weapons in. You wouldn’t want to disobey him, would you?”

“The scribe wrote that your weapons were permitted. That fool couldn’t even be bothered to remember to include directions.” The guard flicks the Post-it note. “I trust his words far less than His Majesty’s.”

“It still had to have come from the king! Please, we’re not trying to be difficult. We just don’t understand why we’d be lied to like this.” Because you’re all ghosts, the enraged part of her wants to add, but she bites her tongue.

For the briefest of moments, the guard’s expression seems to soften the slightest bit, but the moment is so fleeting, Maddie is left wondering if she imagined it.

“If it is His Majesty’s prerogative,” the guard begins slowly, “then he may choose to allow you your weapons. However, it will only be after I receive his explicit instructions, and after I and my staff have been able to conduct a thorough examination of the weapons and ensure they will not pose a significant threat.”

Maddie exhales slowly. “Fine,” she bites out. “We can surrender most of our weapons.” At this point, as much as her instincts are screaming at her, she doesn’t care. She doesn’t feel like wasting her time arguing with some ghost that was never going to listen to her in the first place. A twinge of annoyance burns through her chest, wondering if all of the king’s guests get treated like second-class citizens.

Besides, as loath as she is to make the concession, they were never going to be allowed in with guns blazing - invitation or no - and while she would much prefer the security of a blaster on her hip, she’s too intelligent of a woman to ignore the politics of it.

Because that’s really what this boils down to, doesn’t it? A political meeting.

Distantly, she wonders why the king chose to summon her and Jack. Surely, an actual leader in the human world would’ve been a better choice. As much as she doesn’t like the man, Vlad would’ve been much more ideal, having both the political power as mayor of Amity Park and the expertise on ghosts necessary to tangle with the ghost monarchy of all things.

So why choose them?

“We can’t remove all of our weapons, though,” she continues, trying to bring her voice back to something less hostile. “We have some built into our jumpsuits. And we can’t remove our other equipment. It keeps us alive.” She tries not to cringe at her poor word choice. “We haven’t had the chance to determine if the Ghost Zone’s environment and atmosphere are hospitable for humans or not.”

The ghost glares down at them, their tail lashing back and forth. “I assure you, you are not the first humans to enter the Realms and live to tell the tale,” they say with a sniff, “and even if you were, His Majesty would not allow you to perish so easily.”

“Wait,” Jack says before Maddie can stop him. “Does that mean he can alter the Ghost Zone’s environment at will? Or just the environment around the palace? Does he -”

“Jack,” Maddie says at the same time the guard says, “Perhaps these questions are best left to His Majesty himself.”

Maddie can picture Jack’s crestfallen face. He has always been the more outwardly inquisitive between them, though Maddie can’t deny her own fascination with the concept of the Ghost King’s abilities. 

A time and a place, Maddie, she reminds herself.

She tries not to think about how if the king can make the environment safe for them, he can just as easily turn and make it deadly.

“At any rate,” she says, cutting into the tense silence that has settled over them all, “how can we be sure we won’t suffocate the minute we take off these masks? Even if you say other humans have been here…” She lets her sentence hang unfinished. She’s not exactly sure how she would have ended it anyway.

The guard sighs heavily, and a spark of interest flits through Maddie’s head as she wonders how they are able to do so without lungs. “You will simply have to take His Majesty’s word for it.”

His word. Not the guard’s.

She finds the distinction interesting.

“Well…” She shrugs helplessly. “What are we supposed to do then? We’ll have to surrender our jumpsuits to meet your terms, but we can’t exactly meet the king without any clothes.”

Beside her, Jack chokes on a laugh, but thankfully doesn’t say anything.

The guard seems to consider this for a moment. “I believe we can accommodate for that.”

____________________________________________________________

Nearly an hour later, Maddie finds herself pacing back and forth in the sitting room she and Jack have been brought to. The palace staff had provided them with simple linen garments to wear in lieu of their jumpsuits. “Garments” might be too generous of a term; it’s clear they were thrown together on an extremely short notice, held together with haphazard stitches and maybe just the barest hint of ghost magic. Maddie feels more like she’s been wrapped in a bundle of fabric than actually dressed.

Her humiliation is not helped in the slightest by how the king’s staff treated her and Jack as they helped them and brought them to the room. There was, of course, the guard, who continued to treat them like scum of the Earth. The seamstress who brought them the clothes, however, had regarded them with enormously wide, unblinking eyes and only spoken to them in a series of squeaks and whimpers, giving Maddie the impression that maybe the girl had been a mouse in life. And then there had been the servants all throughout the halls, gasping at them and leaning in to whisper to each other heatedly, as if she and Jack were celebrities. 

Or, perhaps more accurately, exotic creatures. She doesn’t imagine that these ghosts see humans too often.

Most frustratingly about the whole situation, though, is that none of this - the invitation, the unpreparedness, the staff’s treatment of them, even the halls of the palace itself - has given her any sort of indication as to who the Ghost King is, or what kind of ghost he will be when they meet him. It’s like trying to put together a puzzle, she thinks, but the pieces are all from different puzzles. For someone like Maddie, who prefers concrete data to the unknown, it’s a nightmare.

Not to mention the idea of going blindly into a potentially hostile situation terrifies her.

Not that she’ll ever admit it out loud.

The door bangs open, startling Maddie out of her thoughts and Jack out of his seat. The guard who greeted them floats in the doorway. Without their helmet on, she can see that they have a third, milky eye in the center of their forehead. Distantly, she wonders why there’s no opening for it in the helmet.

“His Majesty will see you now,” the guard says curtly, gesturing for them to follow.

The trip to the throne room is short, but somehow they still encounter a trio of what Maddie assumes to be maids. She rolls her eyes as they too watch them with wide eyes before bending in close to each other, whispering hurriedly.

“I can’t believe he actually…” one says.

“... think they’ll attack their own…” another is saying.

“... fleshier than he is,” the third adds rather unhelpfully.

Maddie’s not sure what to make of the conversation. Their own what?

“Mads.”

Too late, she realizes she’s stopped in the middle of the hallway and is staring at the maids. Jack and the guard are ahead of her, watching her expectantly. Jack looks like he wants to ask her something, but strangely enough, he stays quiet.

Blushing furiously and pushing the conversation out of her head, Maddie scurries back to Jack’s side.

____________________________________________________________

The throne room looks as if it had been plucked right from a fairytale. It’s done in a dark, ashy marble, complete with a long carpet and thick curtains in deep blue, trimmed with silver. Tall pillars line the sides of the room, each wrapped in a spiraling pattern of frost and decorated with a black banner stamped with the king’s seal. A stained glass window at the back of the room, behind the throne, filters light through its panes, throwing prismatic blues, greens, and purples around the room.

The throne itself sits on a short dais, and even Maddie can appreciate the workmanship that has clearly gone into it. The entire throne is made of crystalline ice, almost as if it was carved straight from a glacier. Threads of bright green ectoplasm are embedded within it, creating intricate, abstract patterns and giving it the illusion of a glow. A plush pillow rests on the seat, done in the same blue and silver fabric as the curtains.

“Maddie,” Jack whispers with a nudge, “look up.”

She does, and an involuntary gasp tears itself from her throat. Where she had expected a ceiling, perhaps like she’d find in an old cathedral, there is only the expanse of a night sky. Stars twinkle back at her, and she’s easily able to identify some of the constellations. The Big Dipper, of course, with Polaris in its glory, and over there she spots Orion. It’s only thanks to Danny and his love for the stars that she’s able to realize that she’d be able to see these same constellations above her roof this time of the year. 

It’s a fascinating decorating choice, she thinks, for the Ghost King to recreate Earth’s night sky in his throne room. Is it a deliberate choice? Is it a memory of the life he left behind? Is it simply just an appreciation for a sky that’s not ectoplasm?

A chill runs down her spine, and not just because she can feel the cold radiating off the throne. A realization has just hit her.

How powerful of a ghost must the king be to create such a perfect replica? To make her doubt for even a second that she never left Earth?

The stars above sway as a wave of dizziness overcomes her.

It’s only when Jack reaches out and gently pulls her back onto the long carpet that she looks away. Her face burns in embarrassment as she realizes she had been so lost in thought that she’d begun to wander aimlessly. Thankfully, if the guard notices, they don’t say anything about it.

Still though, she berates herself. She can’t afford to lose her focus. Not here. Not this deep in enemy territory. Not in the middle of the lair of the most powerful ghost in existence.

Oh God, she thinks as her stomach drops. Suddenly, the guard leading them down to the throne feels more like an executioner dragging them to the gallows. How could she have allowed them to give up their weapons so easily? How could she have let them be stripped of their defenses and led like lambs to a slaughter? This is the Ghost King. She and Jack have threatened and hunted his subjects time and again. Any self-respecting leader isn’t going to let that slide so easily.

Let alone a ghost.

“Hey.” Jack’s broad hand slips around hers, and she instinctively grips it tightly. “You’re overthinking things,” he chides quietly, but there’s still a light air to his voice.

“We shouldn’t have come.” It’s hard to keep her voice from shaking, especially as the air begins to grow bitingly cold as they near the throne. “He’s going to kill us. Or-or throw us in the dungeons. Or something. We’ll never get out of here. We’ll never see Jazz and Danny again. We -”

“Maddie. Look at me.”

She turns her head to look into his eyes, and despite her rampaging anxiety, the sight of the pure warmth and trust in his deep blue eyes grounds her, even if just a bit. Jack has always been the steadfast one between them. She knows that to an outsider, it seems as if she’s the one always pulling him back down into reality, but she thinks that he’s pulled her back up into reality just as often, if not more. It’s just one of the reasons she fell in love with him, one of the reasons she thinks they’re as strong as they are.

“We went through this,” Jack is saying, his tone devoid of any exasperation. He squeezes her hand. “If he wanted to hurt us, he would’ve just come and done it. He wouldn’t have sent an invitation saying that we could bring our weapons. I’m sure whatever he wants us here for can’t be that bad.” Ahead, the guard grunts, but doesn’t say anything.

“We still don’t know what we’re dealing with,” Maddie says. They come to a stop in front of the dais, and somewhere from the side of the room, an attendant flits over to the guard. The two begin speaking in hushed tones, in a language she can’t understand. Still, she watches them warily as she continues speaking. “We shouldn’t have come into this so blind.”

Jack’s brows furrow just the slightest bit. The attendant gives the guard a quick bow - nothing more than a dip - and flits back from where she came.

“It’ll be okay,” Jack says. He squeezes her hand again. “We’ll figure it out together. I know we will.”

Maddie opens her mouth to respond, but the guard begins speaking before she can.

“Presenting His Majesty,” they begin in a booming voice that reverberates against the marble, throughout the entire room, “the Keeper of Gateways, Pariah’s Bane, the Twice-Born -”

A door opens from the side wing, interrupting the guard. “Rowan, chill out,” a new voice says with a light laugh. “I’ve told you, you really don’t have to do this every time you introduce me.”

Maddie’s blood runs colder than the ice on the throne.

“Danny?” The name spills from her mouth before she can stop it. She claps a hand over her mouth as the guard, presumably Rowan, fixes her with a heated glare.

To be fair, she’s not sure if she would’ve been able to stop herself if she’d tried. A scientist and huntress she may be, but before that, she is a mother, and a mother always recognizes her own children.

And that voice was undeniably her son’s.

Her mind reels. It makes no sense. How is he here? In the Ghost Zone? In the Ghost King’s throne room? Why is he here? Addressing a ghost like an old friend? What does -

The flurry of confusion screeches to a halt, though, when a figure steps out from behind a curtain, and the rug is pulled out from under her a second time.

A thick mop of snow white hair. Electric green eyes that betray a bewilderment similar to her own. An insignia emblazoned proudly across his chest.

Maddie relaxes, but only marginally. In the midst of a world of unfamiliarity, the sight of Phantom, someone she knows all too well, is begrudgingly soothing. She’s not happy to see him, not by a long shot, but she feels a little less out of her depth. Even if things involving Phantom tend to veer towards disaster, and even if his presence in the Ghost King’s throne room is unsettling at best.

The minimal relief is short-lived, however, as she registers more in regards to his appearance. Namely the ring on his middle finger with a stone that matches the ice of the throne. And the cape draped around his shoulders with a collar of fluff and an adornment of stars. And the crown nestled in his hair, also seemingly made of ice but shimmering with the ever-shifting lights of the borealis.

Her stomach drops to her feet. 

Maybe she’s much more out of her depth than she originally thought.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Look, Don't Touch 3

Warnings: this fic includes noncon/rape, stalking, breaking and entering, possible blood and violence, and femcel energy. Tags are not exhaustive and more may be added as the series progresses.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You get bored of watching and that makes you careless. (dark!reader)

Characters: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes

Note: my back hurts.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like snakes love Woody’s boots. Take care. 💖

Bucky's snores roll through the apartment. He's just as irritating asleep as he is awake. Your back racks and your legs cramp as you slump in the chair. Your eyes droop now and again only the roll open and flick to the blue digits of the clock. 

The minutes tick by like hours. His peaceful tempo irks you. It adds to the restlessness of your captivity.  

You don't blame him entirely. You're a dumb fucking bitch. Why didn't you do some scouting before you waltzed in? Wait it out to make sure it's clear. 

You go back and retrace your steps, over and over. Fuck. You're so stupid. So stupid. But not as stupid as that fucker thinks. 

Or as weak. 

He has that chip on his shoulder. He thinks his trauma overrides everyone else's. That no one else has been through shit. What you've been through you don't fucking think about because it's not worth it. He doesn't realise he's wasting his energy being such a miserable shit. 

You stare through the window for a while. The city sparkles here. Not like in your apartment where it blares like a broken television. 

Your head sinks down as your fatigue clouds your obstinacy. Your eyelids meet and your body slackens as much as it can within your bounds. The last look at the clock read about 3am. 

Your mind swirls in a miasma. Thick and viscous. Your skull thumps like sledge on concrete. Then all at once you're awake and shivering. 

The ice cold water seeps into your clothes as you gasp and gulp. Your lashes are webbed with moisture as you drip with the frigid rivulets. Bucky chuckles as a bucket hangs from his grip. 

"Morning sunshine." 

Your teeth chatter as you sneer back at him. You glance over at the city skyline. It's still a dusky mix of grey and blue. 

"0500. Up and at 'em," he proclaims chipperly. 

You shut your mouth and bite down on your shivers. This is what he wants. He's trying to break you. Well it's not gonna happen so soon. You've seen the videos on the dark web. You won't be scared by this emo bitch.  

"Gotta keep a routine." He taunts. 

You roll your eyes. Your gaze catches on the shine on the floor. You must've been out like a light. There's plastic under you. Maybe not just for the water. Well, you're not squeamish. 

"I usually start with a run. What do you do when you crawl out of your hole at one in the afternoon? Probably just the thought of Steve gets your heart pumping," he grits. 

"It helps," you snicker. "I've seen the real thing so... I'm certain my imagination is much better. The vibrator too." 

"Fucking smart ass," he mutters and stomps away. 

It's not a victory but it isn't defeat. You can match his energy, even if he's got you tied up like a dog. You wiggle in seat as that thought tickles something in you. You're twisted just like he said but he doesn't get to do that to you. Only Steve.  

He shuffles around in the bedroom. He emerges in track pants and a long sleeve tee. The legs are a bit too long for him. Steve's got a few inches on him, probably in more way than one. 

"I'll do about an hour," he taps on his watch. "Now you don't go getting into trouble." 

He scoffs and heads for the door. You tempo your breath as the goosebumps prickle over you in waves. Your clothes are soaked through. The door snaps shut and you huff. 

There's not much you can do. You close your eyes again. You're not going to sleep but you'll save your energy. As you languish in the slow drip of water pattering onto the plastic, your clothes grow stale and tepid. The wet fabric is sandpaper on your skin. 

He returns, whistling. He doesn't acknowledge you as he sets up in the kitchen. He puts his earbuds in the case and lets his music blast from the speaker. It's the kind of rock music a teenager listens to when they try to show off. 

You don't move. You're not going to let him see you squirm. He rattles around in the kitchen. 

"Gotta get lots of protein after a workout," he calls through as a pan sizzles. The aromas crawl over you and fill your lungs. Your tongue floods with saliva. "Lots of eggs, bacon, hm, oh Steve got the good greek yogurt." 

You don't answer his mocking monologue. You know what he's doing. Well if he thinks you've never gone hungry, that's his own martyr complex fueling his ego. 

He comes out with a full plate and sits across from you. He plants his feet wide, his plate in one hand as he shovels greedily with the fork. He stuffs his mouth and hums. 

You watch him calmly. He smirks and keeps pigging away on the food. There's enough for both of you and then some. You grimace. 

"How are you feeling? Hungry?" He asks. 

"Repulsed. You have grease on your chin." 

He pokes his tongue as he try to lick it up. You nearly gag at the remnants of food in his mouth. You don’t, you won't, look away. 

"I can hear your stomach," he says through a mouthful. "And your heart. Your lungs, too." 

"Yeah, I know you're a freak. Do you even know how the Russian fucks mangled you or did that go out the window with all the murder?" 

He gnashes his teeth down and narrows his eyes. His smile faded. It's your turn to grin. 

"Real fucked up from what I saw. There were some leaked classified docs after that weirdo Sokovian went off and planted those bombs." You tisk. "Children? Really? That's really der--" 

He's fast. Well, he is a super soldier. In an instant, he's in front of you, the plate is on the floor, and the fork is standing in your thigh as pain sears through your muscles. 

You yipe then muffle it to a groan. You take a deep breath as your lashes flick and you stare at the blood staining around the tines. You exhale through your lips and look at him. You don't stop smiling. 

You cackle, "hoooooo, I got you, Buck. I fucking got you." 

He stands straight and kicks the plate, scattering whats left of the eggs and bacon. He stomps away and balls his fists, grumbling and snarling. You laugh if only to keep from whimpering. 

There's pain beneath the swell of adrenaline. It's going to really hurt in a few minutes but right now, you feel great. You're awake. 

📷

Bucky appears again. His hair is damp and his skin is speckled with the aftermath of a shower. He has only a towel around his waist. Are you supposed to be impressed? 

He doesn't say a word as he moves around the apartment. He goes to the windows and looks out at the city. You stare at the couch dully. You're getting bored and your leg is throbbing. 

He circles around as you raise your brows, biding off the fatigue. Suddenly, he's behind you. He reaches around a rips the fork free. You grunt as blood pools up and spreads further along the denim.  

He wipes the tines on your sleeve, "I didn't get the artery, in case you're scared." He strides around and twirls the cutlery, "strange cause judging by your pulse, you're pretty fucking content with yourself." 

"Ha, is that what you want, hm?" You pout mockingly. "You wanna make a girl's heart race. Poor widdle winter baby don't got no place in this world. He wants to be wanted--" 

"You talk a pretty big game for someone as tiny as you are." He comes around and bends to look you in the eye. "What do you got going on? Who's going to even know you didn't make it home?" 

You hiss through a gritted smile, "you say that like I care. I've been pretty honest with you and myself. Maybe try a bit of introspection." 

"There's different types," he backs up and sits again. "The quiet ones. The violent ones. The talkers. Now, there's different kinds of talkers. The ones who threaten, then there's the ones who ramble. They talk so they don't gotta feel--" 

"You got me, Mr. Barnes. I'm so fucking scared of you I'm gonna piss my pants. You wanna watch again?" 

He chortles, "there ya go." 

"There I go." You sneer. "What's the game plan here, buddy? Starve me out? Think it'll happen before baby boy gets back? You gonna save some for him? Let him know you saved his ass. For once it wasn't the other way around huh?" 

"Shut up." 

"Or maybe that's a bad plan, huh? Steve might lose his shit a little. Realise he's not untouchable. I mean, a worm like me crawled right in--" 

"I said shut up," he snips. 

"You said it, I'm a talker. I gotta talk so I don't shake in my boots. Must feel like a big man. I mean I don't got Hydra juice in my veins and you could snap me like a twig," you scoff. "It's gotta make you a little hard." 

He tilts his head and squints, "you ever think of anything else?" 

"Don't worry, you're not in here," you nod your head. "It's all for the Captain. Second best again, sergeant." 

"You can't help yourself," he leans his elbows on his legs. 

"Well, I broke in, didn't I? Pretty clear I'm a bit off--" 

"No fucking shame." 

"It's really weird, don't you think? We only talk about shame when it's a woman. Men, they can do whatever the fuck they want and they're called outgoing and brave or committed, whatever." 

"Cut that shit," he snips. 

"It's true. But maybe that's not what this is. Maybe this is something else. Something more personal. Maybe you're jealous," you try to shrug. "The winter bozo got no fans to stalk him. Mm, sad." 

He stares at you then his gaze falls to your leg. He stands up and marches off. No answer. Typical. That's the thing about men, they can't admit when they're wrong. Can't own up to their faults but everyday a woman has to pay penance for just existing. 

He stomps back to you and slaps his hand down on your injured leg. The burning sensation of his palm tears a yowl from your and you look down as thick grains of salt tumble out between his fingers. He mashes the salt into your wound. You gnash your teeth and grunt. 

"FUUUUUUUCKKKKKKKK!" You seethe through your clamped jaw. 

He laughs, "this is kinda fun." He puts his forehead against yours. "And I can't help but agree with you, doll. Why the fuck am I fighting my programming?" He squeezes your leg and you wheeze. "Let's get nice and cozy with the soldier. He's got all the good ideas." 

You snort and twitch, halfway between agony and amusement. You push against him and snap your teeth. 

"Finally, something interesting." You rasp. 

He smirks and pushes of you. You groan as he turns cracks his neck. He tosses the salt onto the plastic sheet. You watch his metal hand open and close. 

He spins and struts into the kitchen. He comes back with your notebook. A strike of rage swells in you. Fuck. 

He stands in front of you and licks his fingertips. He clears his throat and flutters through the pages. 

"'I went to his place. It's nice. Different than being outside. His bed is big, it's a wonder he never fucks in it. Seems like Cap is afraid of commitment.'" He guffaws. "You really think you know him?" 

"Stream of consciousness." You utter. 

"Sure," he skims the lines on the pages. "'I think I had my biggest O in his bed. Just with my fingers. I could smell him around me. If I closed my eyes, he was there--'"  

He shifts and the towel twitches. Your lips slant. Disgusting. 

"Do you really think he'd want to touch something like you?" 

"I can draw a line between fact and fiction. How about you?" You chirp. "You can't even remember how many innocent people you killed--" 

"It's getting old," he growls.  

"Maybe Stevie won't want a piece. I'm not delusional, just obsessive. But you-" you nod to his crotch. "Seems like you're getting a bit too into this." 

He lowers the notebook and grins. "You ever actually fucked a guy?" 

"What does it matter?" 

"Is that it? You think Steve wants to pluck the flower in your dusty little garden?" 

"It was never--" you huff and wiggle in the chair. "Look, you don't get it. It was never supposed to be real. It's like a TV show. A distraction. Something to do." 

"Wow, that's sad." 

"Yeah, but it's the truth. A lot of people can't face themselves in the mirror." 

"Oh virtue," he scoffs and throws the notebook on the couch behind him. "Is it honesty or self-pity?" 

"Bit of both." You look up defiantly as he steps closer. "Look at me. I know what I am. I'm a creep but I don't deny it. What you are, you can't even say it out loud." 

He exhales and his chest compressed. He puts his hands on his hips as he glowers at you. His towel tents and you frown. 

"Dude, get that away from me." 

"What's the matter? Is this the closest you've been?" He taunts. 

You lean back and keep your eyes up, "I've seen a dick. Touched a few even. Trust me, I'm not interested." 

"I could put on the suit. There's a back-up in his closet." 

"Nasty." 

"Look who's talking," he retorts. "You think I'm fucking serious?" 

"I know the things you're capable of, soldat." You challenge. 

His eyes flare and his knuckles flash across your vision, bone snapping against your cheek. You close your mouth as it floods with iron. You swallow the blood and wiggle a back tooth with your tongue. You snicker. 

You face him as the swelling thrums hotly under the surface. He glares back at you. You lean back and round your eyes. You've never been good at that cutesy shit. 

He smirks, "keep going, baby. We'll see who breaks first." 

You lower your lashes and sniffle. He hovers and you steel yourself. You lurch forward and open your mouth. The chair tilts with your weight and you bite through the cotton as your teeth meet the towel. You pinch something beneath it. Him. 

He exclaims and punches your head. He grunts as the chair tips and falls on its side. Your head bounces against the chair. The towel heaps next to you as he growls and cradles his erection. 

"The fuck? You are deranged!" 

"I told you to move back," you slur as silver stars spatter across your vision.  

"Fucking bitch," he hisses and leaves you on the plastic. You laugh until it fades into a dry crackle. You hit your head pretty good and he got a few good shots in too. 

[narrycherries]

ivy: magnificently cursed

she can’t seem to ignore him and he’s rather observant of her..

(part 5)

masterlist / ivy series

word count: 11.4k

warnings/tags: harry x fem oc, angst, alcohol use, enemies to lovers

[a/n: hi before you again I just want to say I hope this isn’t repetitive, a good portion of the content of this series will happen at the same few locations, so just be patient with me lol, slow burn is coming to an end soon I promise! enjoy xx]

..Sometimes I just want to scream and scream until my lungs explode. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him! He has been nothing but an ass to me, even when I try to thank him for helping me he acts like he hates me. What did I ever do to him? Am I losing my mind? Was there something that happened that I can't recall? And my stupid heart won’t stop gushing over him. What is wrong with me! Am I literally losing control of my mind? And to think that I went out of my way to be nice to him.. just to have it thrown back in my face? I’m willing to bet that nobody hates anyone as much as he hates me..

A frustrated huff flew past Ivy’s lips as she finished writing the final line of her diary entry for the day. She always tried her best to write her feelings and thoughts down so that her brain would be less congested. Today’s session lasted about twenty minutes as she quickly jotted down her conflicting thoughts regarding a certain person - a person she hadn’t seen in a couple of weeks who just so happened to take up every available space in her mind. She slammed the journal shut and shoved it back into the drawer, not wanting it to be left out in the open. She never thought Emma would go through her things, it was just a personal preference she had - keep it hidden.

Ivy quickly got dressed after checking the time. It was Friday evening and she had something big planned for the night. She wasn’t going out on a date or going to dinner with Emma, she was doing something for herself and by herself. She checked her reflection, smiling as she thought she looked rather happy - despite being so angry as she scribbled words into the diary just minutes ago. Before long, she was out of the house and in her car, headed for the destination she was excited to arrive at.

There was a bit of nervousness building in her stomach as she gripped the wheel and anticipated what was going to happen. She tried to remain calm and remind herself this wasn’t the first time she’s doing this. She had a little bit of experience with the process, and she already knew the end results were well worth the anxiety. The music softly buzzed in the car as she drove to the tattoo shop. She didn’t want to overwhelm her mind with loud noise, she had to save all her energy for sitting through the tattoo.

Emma was excited that she was getting a new one, but she was unable to accompany her tonight since she had made plans with Niall. Ivy wasn’t bothered by having to go alone, she actually preferred it that way. With her previous tattoos, she just sat in silence as the artist did their job with precision and focus. She thought that talking would be too distracting.

A bright smile grew on her lips as she walked up to the door of the shop, the bright green open sign nearly blinding her. The bell jingled above the door, making her glance up for just a second. Zayn had just walked into the lobby when she came in, so he greeted her with a quick hug.

“How’ve you been?” He hadn’t seen her since their trip ended.

“I’ve been pretty good. And you?” She asked as he sat down at the desk to verify her appointment details.

“Decent, decent. Been having a lot of practices this week for the show tomorrow, so m’a bit tired.”

She laughed gently. “Not too tired, I hope.”

“Oh, of course not! I could tattoo in my sleep. It’s everything else that I’m being lazy about this week.” He grinned back as he confirmed her appearance for the appointment in his computer system and stood back up, gesturing her to follow him to the back.

When they went through the main tattoo room, she noticed there was a man she didn’t see last time who was working on a client. He didn’t look up at them though, he seemed to be very preoccupied. The door to Zayn’s private room was already opened, so she trailed in behind him.

“Don’t mind the company. He owes me a favor so he’s doing the job I don’t like doing.” Zayn said with a chuckle as he shut the door behind them.

Ivy was about to open her mouth to speak when she looked to the corner of the room. In the chair she sat in when she was in Emma sat a person she knew all too well. Her chest started to feel tight all of a sudden, and it worsened when a set of eyes shot up to look at who came in.

Harry was surprised to see her standing there, but he didn’t express it on his face whatsoever. Ivy, on the other hand, made it clear that she was shocked to see him sitting there. He noticed the small part between her lips, almost as if her jaw went slack, and the look of utter fear in her eyes. A bit dramatic, if someone were to ask him.

“Have a seat, I’ve got your design printed out in a few different sizes.” Zayn said as he went to the counter, collecting the papers he wanted to give her.

She sat down, swallowing harshly as she tried to ignore the fact Harry was in the room with her. She hadn’t seen him since Niall dropped her and Emma off back home after the trip. He didn’t talk to her, or to anyone, the entire ride home. The last thing he said to her wasn’t very pleasant, which seemed to be a trend for them, so she still had a bitter taste in her mouth. She wanted to tell him how rude and hateful he was, despite all the rather nice things he had done for her during that trip, but of course she was too afraid to even look at him let alone speak.

Zayn handed her the print outs and she looked over them quickly, picking the size she thought was appropriate. “What do you think?”

He nodded, glancing at the back of her arm. “I think that’s the best size, yeah.”

“Alright. We’ll do that one then.”

He took the paper back and turned away from her. “I’ll get the stencil ready and when I get back I’ll lay the chair down for you.”

“Okay.”

To her surprise, Zayn walked to the door and left the room. He went to the shared space where the other artists work to prepare the stencil. Knowing that she was alone in a room with Harry was making Ivy’s heart start to race and her stomach churn. She felt uncomfortable being this close to him, even if he was on the other side of the room. But thankfully, he was busy doing something and his eyes weren’t on her anymore.

She took the opportunity to look his way since he was distracted. Her brows furrowed slightly as she realized what he was doing. Zayn had given him the task of rearranging new designs and templates in the book his clients often flipped through. She had looked at it when she was here with Emma, so she knew it was already packed full. There were a few loose pages sitting on the floor, maybe those were ones they were replacing?

It took all her strength to tear her eyes from him. She didn’t want to get caught up in her thoughts again, she had already done that once today. Her journal received absolute hell about Harry. She wrote until her hand was sore. There was no point in reliving those thoughts right now.

Zayn was only gone for a few minutes. He told her to stand up so he could adjust the chair before applying the stencil to her skin. Ivy took a deep breath as she watched him lay the chair down. She’d have to lay on her stomach for this one, which was the most comfortable option.

“Alright, turn around.” He said, the stencil gripped in between his fingers. “You want it closer to your elbow, right?”

“Yeah.. keep it low.” She mumbled back, holding her hair over her shoulder so it wouldn’t be in his way.

Zayn placed the stencil on her arm and slowly peeled the paper back. He stared at it for a moment, pretty certain about the placement. But it wasn’t up to him, he had to get her approval.

“Check it for me.”

Ivy turned in the mirror, looking at her arm the best she could. She nodded lightly, pleased with where the stencil had been placed. Seeing the design on her skin, even though it wasn’t permanent yet, made her heart swell. It was a special thing she was getting inked into her skin, and it made all the anxiety worth it.

“It looks perfect.”

“Alright, get comfortable then.” He smiled before starting to prepare his materials.

Ivy laid down on the chair, careful not to disturb the stencil on the back of her arm. She gulped lightly and folded her other arm beneath her head for more cushion. Of course, because why would it work out in her favor, she was facing the corner where Harry was sitting. She kept her eyes closed for now, not wanting to see him at all.

It didn’t take Zayn long to set up, and before she knew it, he was telling her to take a deep breath. “Ready?”

“Mhm.”

The buzzing of the tattoo gun rang in her ear as Zayn pulled her skin taut and started inking the stencil. She sighed softly, the feeling of being tattooed wasn’t foreign to her but it had been a while since her last one. The flower design Zayn put together for her was just lineworm and very gentle shading. She didn’t want it too realistic or too bold.

After a couple of minutes, he decided to talk with her. He didn’t mind chatting with his clients, it made the time go by quicker for both parties. He was very precise and focused, but could easily multitask.

“So.. do these flowers have any significance to you?”

Although he talked with her and designed the tattoo, Ivy hadn’t told him why she wanted them. He didn’t feel the need to ask his clients for the purpose of their tattoos, he just drew up whatever they wanted and tried his best to perfect the designs.

Ivy chewed on her cheek for a moment before answering. “Yeah.. they’re my mom and brother’s birth month flowers. They, um, both passed.”

“Which is which?”

She hesitated at first, the fear of tears creeping into her eyes was taking over. She could easily break down at the mention of either of them, but especially her brother. Ivy opted to stay strong and smile to herself as she thought about them. They would live forever in her mind, the memories she made with each of them were on the top of her list of most important things. She loved and missed them dearly.

“My mom’s is the rose.. the daffodil is my brothers.” She told him in a gentle voice, not realizing she was speaking so softly.

Zayn wasn’t quite sure what to say, so he didn���t respond. He figured she wouldn’t want to discuss them anymore. His assumption was right. The room was silent for a few minutes, aside from the music playing at a low volume. She didn’t know the song that was currently on, though, but Zayn was humming along to it. The feeling of the needle stabbing into her skin was the only thing preventing her from falling asleep. She was tired after a long day working, she just wanted to get home and go to bed. A smile crept to her lips as she heard the start of the next song, one she was very familiar with. It was Joan Jett’s version of “Crimson & Clover,” one of her favorite songs ever and one of her top karaoke picks.

“Oh, I love this song.”

“You prefer this version I assume?” Zayn said with a light laugh.

“Yes, absolutely.”

Zayn pulled the gun away to wipe at her skin, clearing off some of the excess ink. “We used to play this one live.. haven’t done it in probably a year or so.”

“I suggest adding it back to the set.” Ivy tried not to laugh too loudly, she didn’t want to move her body in any way that would ruin Zayn’s lines.

“We have one more practice before the show, maybe we could squeeze it in.” He pushed the needle back into her skin, picking up where he left off. “Are you coming to the show tomorrow?”

“Yes, I am. I’m excited.. I haven’t been out since the trip.”

Zayn made a quick glance over his shoulder towards Harry, but he wasn’t paying them any attention. “Well, I hope your experience is much better than others were.”

Ivy hummed at his words. “Yeah, hope so.”

They went quiet again, the song filling the void. She started thinking about the show and what she was going to wear. The weather might not allow her to dress the way she would prefer, there was a cold spell coming in tonight that would stick around for a few days. Emma would probably get her to help pick out an outfit in the morning, so perhaps Ivy could make her do the same.

Her mind started wondering off to little random things, nothing particularly capturing her attention as she laid there. Zayn was focused on the tattoo and he didn’t want to risk messing up, so he stayed quiet. He’d answer if she wanted to ask him something, but she appeared to be fine with the silence.

Zayn finished the rose and wiped her skin clean, avoiding the stencil lines for the other flower. He was pleased with the work he did, so he moved on to the next one. Ivy sighed out as he mumbled a quick warning to her before starting again. It was fine for a couple of minutes, until she suddenly felt a shift in the atmosphere around them. She heard footsteps, then could actually feel a presence come towards her. She opened her eyes and immediately felt her throat close up. The sight of Harry’s legs wasn’t something she thought she’d see this close. She had hoped that he would stay in the corner the entire time, but he didn’t.

“How’s it look?” Zayn asked him.

Harry was standing with his arms crossed on his chest, his eyes staring down at the spot Zayn was tattooing. The small flowers were positioned on the back of Ivy’s arm, just above her elbow. They weren’t very big at all and leaned more towards a delicate touch than a bold tattoo. If he hadn’t heard what she said about its significance, he would think that it was a weak tattoo - something girls got just to say they had a tattoo. But since he knew the reason, he was a bit more understanding. He wouldn’t say that to her, obviously, but he at least respected the decision.

“Looks nice. Pretty clean.” He mumbled back, his words low and deep.

“Did you get done with the book?”

Harry cleared his throat and took a step back, but his eyes remained on her skin. “Yeah.”

Zayn leaned back to get a better look at the lines as he took a quick break. “Are you riding with me tomorrow to the bar?”

Harry thought about it for a minute, then shrugged. “No, I’ll just go with Cory and Michelle.”

Ivy felt a bit of relief knowing that he wasn’t going to be in Niall’s car. Unlike last time, Niall told her and Emma they could ride with him to the bar. He would have to be there a little early, but they were fine with waiting longer for the show to start. Niall promised Emma he wouldn’t drink tomorrow night, which allowed her to since he’d be driving them back.

“M’gonna head out.” Harry said through a sigh, walking towards the door.

Zayn gave him a quick goodbye and said he’d see him tomorrow afternoon when they meet up for one final quick practice and recap for their show. Ivy was confused as to why she felt sort of upset that Harry had left. She should be jumping with joy and celebrating, finally free of his overbearing presence. No matter how hard she tried to focus on the tattoo needle, she couldn’t distract herself enough. Harry had filled her mind up again..

—•—

Emma grinned when Ivy emptied the shot into her mouth. They had been at the bar for about half an hour, waiting on the show to begin. Niall had to leave them behind to go get things sorted with the owner and set up the stage. They decided it would be best to spend their time preparing for the night, and that meant throwing back shots and ordering a few drinks. Niall was their chauffeur for the night, they were going to cut loose.

“Niall’s not gonna know what to do with you tonight.” Ivy teased as Emma chugged the rest of the beer she had ordered.

“Too hot to handle.” Emma laughed back, dramatically flipping her hair over her shoulder.

When Ivy picked up her cup from the bar, she grunted from the scratching of her denim jacket against her freshly inked tattoo. She thought the long sleeve shirt she had on would stop it, but she could feel the thick fabric anyway. Emma gave her a funny look and a shake of her head.

“I told you that would hurt tonight.”

She shrugged back, it wasn’t her first time dealing with a healing tattoo. “I’ll be alright. Just don’t grab on to me later.”

“I’ll try to remember.”

Ivy didn’t consider how painful it would be to have someone grab onto her arm until now, and the thought of it alone was making her cringe. Emma wouldn’t intentionally hurt her, but she might forget later when they’re dancing and both drunk out of their minds. It would be something to deal with then, and not fret over now.

“Niall told me they added a few songs to the set. Switched out some other ones.” Emma said after calling the bartender over to get another beer.

“Oh really? I’m excited for tonight. I might request something.” Ivy looked down at the ice swirling in her cup, the memory of the night she was harassed while eating the ice cubes flashed in her mind. She blinked it away, trying not to let anything ruin this night for her. “Are they going to the back room after like last time?”

“Yeah, as far as I know.” Emma said back, her hand now occupied with her knew drink. “I hope it goes well this time. I swear we say that every time we do something that involves Harry.” Her snicker didn’t make the topic easier to deal with though.

Ivy sucked on her cheek for a moment, all those harsh memories she shared with him circled her mind. It was like a revolving door they could never escape. It was constant and never ending. Torture would be the word she’d use for it, though that seemed a bit drastic. A huff pushed out of her nose, her eyes cutting back to Emma.

“He was at the shop yesterday when I got the tattoo.”

Emma lifted her brows. “Really? Did he say anything?”

She shook her head. “No, not to me. He said some stuff to Zayn.”

“I really, honestly don’t know why he.. he acts like he doesn’t like you.”

Ivy scoffed. “Acts? It’s definitely not an act. He.. he practically hates me. I don’t know why. I’ve never done anything to him.”

Emma gave her a frown, she didn’t really know what to say about it either. It made no sense that he was so hostile towards her. Was her vibe just something he couldn’t connect with? She must not be friendly in his eyes, or maybe she makes the group feel different and he didn’t like that. Nobody seemed to know the reason..

“He’s just a guy. Rude and.. selfish.” Emma took a drink of her beer. “But.. I was told something interesting.”

Ivy could tell by the way she cocked her brow and let her eyes fall from their locked stare that it was something she wanted to hear. The corner of Emma’s mouth lifted as she thought about it in her head, debating on telling Ivy the information. It wasn't anything crazy, but she thought it was interesting at least.

“What is it?” Ivy asked, nudging Emma’s knee with her own.

Emma twisted the bar stool a little, trying to be all nonchalant about it. “I’m not supposed to say.. but Niall doesn't have to know.”

The mention of Niall made Ivy even more curious. If Niall said this to her, then that means it probably relates to Harry in some way. Emma had no idea, at least to Ivy’s knowledge, that Ivy was so affected by Harry. She didn’t know that she’s spent hours and hours writing about him in her diary, thinking about him while pulling at her own hair and mumbling nonsense to herself, replaying their interactions in her mind imagining them playing out in different ways.. But clearly, Emma knew that telling her something about Harry would pique her interest.

“I’m not going to say anything.” Ivy mumbled back, but of course Emma knew that already.

“Basically.. Niall’s mentioned that Harry’s been different lately. Like at their place or during practice.. even when he’s working shifts at the store.”

Ivy leaned her arm on the bar, her eyes staring holes through Emma’s face. She didn’t say anything yet, just watched as her friend hesitated to finish the story. Emma threw her head back, staring at the ceiling so she wouldn’t have to look at Ivy.

“Niall said it’s like he’s constantly distracted.. and then he’ll get pissed off for no reason, like they could be in literal silence and Harry would get mad. He storms off to his room.. plays his guitar and slams the doors all night.”

Ivy rolled her eyes. “Hard to believe that’s not normal for him.”

“I don’t know.. I guess he’s got some stuff going on in his personal life. Maybe that’s why he’s so.. rude to you. Maybe he can’t handle a new person right now, or whatever.”

Emma didn’t appear to connect any dots between Harry and Ivy, which Ivy was thankful for. She didn’t want to admit how often she thought about Harry or how far her spirals would go. She didn’t want Emma to know any of that. It made sense that some other external factors could be contributing to Harry’s behavior. What if there really was something going on before Ivy came along, and her being around just didn’t mix well with Harry’s issues? Was it all too much for him? It made sense, yet at the same time it didn’t. How could her being around affect him that drastically?

She just shrugged her shoulders again. “Whatever it is.. he needs to get over it.”

Emma looked back to her. “Yeah. Ready for another shot?”

Just like last time, the girls made their way to the front of the crowd about ten minutes before the show was going to begin. Ivy was on her third drink, on top of a few shots they took, and it was already going straight to her head. She hoped that sipping slowly on this one would do her some good and make her feel better, not crash her out too soon.

“Shouldn’t be much longer.” Emma said as she checked her phone for the time.

Ivy felt a jolt of energy shoot through her. She was excited to dance and sing, let go of all the worries she faced throughout the week and just have fun. Although she had all intentions of enjoying herself tonight, she knew there was a big possibility that Harry could interfere with that. Even if he didn’t do anything to her directly, his presence alone could jeopardize her sanity. Obviously, she couldn’t escape him - in a few short minutes, he’ll be standing on the stage in front of her singing for the next two hours. She was confident in the idea of being able to ignore him. She’s been partially successful at it before.

There were the diary entries to take into consideration - she had spent so many hours pouring out her thoughts and feelings about him. Maybe releasing all of it from her mind would make it easier to ignore him. There was life before he came around, she sometimes forgets that she hadn’t known him forever. She was perfectly capable of controlling her thoughts before he waltzed his way into her mind. Perhaps she was just aiming for something unachievable.. she’d never be able to just forget him, even if she never saw him again.

Ivy’s distraction was pushed to the side when the band finally walked onto the stage. People were cheering loud, ready for the night’s entertainment. Emma squealed, throwing her hand up to wave at Niall. He was chuckling at her, amused to see how excited she was to see him. Ivy’s eyes roamed over the others. Zayn was taking his seat at the drum set while Cory and Michelle quickly discussed something about one of the new songs they were going to play. Of course she couldn’t look at everyone and avoid Harry. Her brows dropped low as she realized he looked different tonight.

That long, perfectly sculpted hair was still flowing onto his shoulders. His tight black tshirt exposed his muscled arms, tattoos inked deep into his tanned skin. His dark jeans were the same as she’s seen him in before. Tonight, he made a decision that was shocking to his band mates, and even more of a surprise to Ivy.

Niall and Cory began the first song, simultaneously singing the opening lyrics to “You Give Love A Bad Name.” Harry’s fingers began playing the guitar he had strapped around his body, his eyes glancing down at the strings to make sure he was on the right track. It sounded perfect, though. She remembered them talking about Harry playing live at dinner weeks ago, but she didn’t think she would witness it solely based on how they reacted to the idea. If he were so insecure about it, what changed his mind? She was genuinely impressed. He was still positioned at the front, the microphone resting in a stand angled towards him. He was singing as confidently as the first time she saw them perform.

It didn’t take very long for Emma to grab Ivy’s hand and pull her closer, the two of them dancing together like it was their last night. As much as she wanted to watch Harry play the guitar, Ivy had no choice but to focus on Emma. She wasn’t going to be rude to her friend for the sake of looking at a person she didn’t even like. She could tell when Niall would play the same chords as him, but he did cut back some and let Harry take over. She wondered if Niall did that to ensure the song wasn’t thrown off track or if that was just how they preferred to do it.

The song changed, and Emma took a quick rest to guzzle a bit of her drink. Ivy let out a laugh as she spilled some, it trickled down her chin and onto her outfit. She groaned, wiping at her face.

“Slow down!” Ivy yelled over the music, making Emma grin back.

They picked up the dancing after her short break. Like she had hoped, it wasn’t that hard for Ivy to forget Harry was so close to her. Maybe it was because this was a different situation. She wasn’t trapped in a car next to him or standing beside him in a crowd, he was doing a job and he was focused entirely on that. She didn’t care what the reason was, she was simply glad she was able to be carefree.

Twenty minutes passed by before Emma decided she’d get another drink. She asked Ivy if she wanted anything, but she declined. They also made a promise that she’d be safe and come straight back, since Ivy’s incident at that other club still lurked fresh in their minds. This place was different, though. Emma was very familiar with the layout and it was nowhere near the size of the other one. Ivy stayed put, right in front of Niall where Emma wanted to be so she could see him.

Niall actually took notice of Emma leaving, but he wasn’t too worried about her. He knew she was comfortable with some of the workers and if she needed anything she’d be able to get help quickly. The strobing lights made it hard for him to see her in the crowd, but there was not any concern.

Ivy kept dancing by herself, but not as passionately. She was swaying from side to side, her head matching her body’s movements. She sipped her drink and sang along to the music, her eyes settled on Niall and Michelle, since they were on the side of the stage they were in front of. She did start to wonder where Emma was after a couple of minutes, but she tried to stay calm. She knew it could take a bit longer to get a drink sometimes, and the walk from the bar might be a harder squeeze. People were less likely to let her just slip through if she were trying to get to the front.

Thankfully, she didn’t come into any trouble. Emma returned with a drink in her hand and a grin on her lips. They were playing one of her favorite songs they do live and she got back just in time. Ivy knew the dancing would immediately start back, Emma couldn’t resist the song. And just like that, they spent another fifteen minutes belting out song lyrics and dancing around like teenage girls.

Eventually, due to their instinct to jump around instead of dance most of the time, they managed to shift from their original spot. They ended up directly in the middle, Harry standing right in front of them. Emma was still able to see Niall, so she didn’t care that much. Ivy, on the other hand, cared more than she wanted to admit. Being that close to him, so perfectly aligned, was making her heart start to skip beats every few seconds. She stared up at him as he sang, his hand gripping the microphone stand as he took a break from playing the guitar. He hadn’t touched it during this song, so maybe he didn’t like playing this one, or perhaps he was resting his hands. His eyes were settled on something random out in the crowd, not towards her. It was a relief.

The song came to an end and she took a minute to take some deep breaths, trying to recover quickly. Her eyes curiously shifted up to Harry just as he wrapped his hand around the neck of the guitar. Ivy absentmindedly chewed on her cheek as she stared up at him like he was an angel, something so magnificent and beautiful.

“Ivy!” Emma suddenly screamed her name as loud as she could.

Her jaw went slack as she heard the beginning of a song she adored more than anything else in the world. Emma had no idea this song was going to be added, Niall didn’t tell her what they put on the set. She was just as excited. Ivy thought back to just yesterday at the tattoo shop, and how this song came up in conversation with Zayn. Was it just a coincidence that “Crimson and Clover” was being played tonight? Surely Zayn would have mentioned it if they had been practicing it, right? She didn’t care to know the answer right now, the urge to dance and sing to one of her favorite songs was stronger than her desire to know.

“Over and over!” She sang at the top of her lungs, her hand gripping Emma’s as they moved their hips to the beat, singing like nobody else was in the room.

Unknownst to Ivy, she had an admirer of her own tonight. She was too busy focused on Emma to notice that Harry had laid his eyes on her. He could hardly hold back an amused smile as he sang, watching her soak up every single word of the song. He thought it was entertaining how she so easily and so comfortably expressed herself. She didn’t care who was watching, or who was singing, she loved the song and she was going to enjoy every second of it.

Unfortunately, it was a short song. And when the final chords were being played, she let Emma go and turned back towards the stage. Harry’s eyes were still locked on her and she immediately felt her stomach seize up. Was it purposeful or did his eyes happen to land on her? She didn’t know and honestly she didn’t have time to think about it. She was slowly starting to drift deep in her thoughts. She noticed every detail about him all of a sudden, as if she had never seen him before. From the sweat beads on his forehead to the delicate way his fingers strummed the strings on his guitar, hitting every chord perfectly.

He stepped back from the microphone stand, pulling his gaze away from her. She felt her throat dry up when he turned away. Something about the way he was looking at her made her heart flutter and she hated that it had to end so quickly. She kept her eyes on him though as he moved on the stage. He placed his guitar on a stand and grabbed a stool.

Cory leaned into the microphone placed in front of him and let everyone know what was going on. “Slowing it down for you for a bit.”

Just like last time she saw them perform, they all took a quick minute long break. Harry snatched a bottle of water off the floor at the back of the stage then walked back to his microphone stand where the stool was waiting for him. She held her breath as she watched him take a seat, then remove the cap of the bottle. He pressed his lips and tilted his head back, water spilling into his mouth. She couldn't help but notice how pink his lips looked. Was it the lighting or were they swollen from all the singing and the constant hitting against the microphone? She didn’t know why, but they looked better than they ever had.

A small gasp left her mouth as Harry’s eyes dropped down to look at her. This time she knew it was on purpose. The way he looked directly at her, nothing else distracted him. They shared a stare for a long minute, neither of them wanting to break it. Even when he took another drink of his water, he kept his eyes frozen on her. Water dripped out the corner of his mouth, and he just wiped it away with the back of his hand. Her mind was screaming at her, telling her to stop being so dumb and giddy about him, but her heart was somewhere else. She didn’t want to look away, didn’t want it to ever end.

“I’m going to the bathroom!” Emma called out, interrupting the moment she wasn’t even sure was real.

She looked over at her and smiled. “Alright.”

Ivy wholeheartedly expected to not see his intense stare when she tilted her head back, and she was surprised to meet his eyes again. He had no intention of looking away from her yet, even when Niall started the next song. Harry gripped the microphone and pulled the stand closer to him. To Ivy’s dismay, it was another one of her favorite songs. She knew for a fact she never said anything about this song to Zayn at the shop the other day, or in any other setting that Harry had shared with her. “Something In The Way” was the same song that made her extremely dizzy and out of it the last time she attended their show. It was a regular song on the set, unfortunately for her, but it felt different this time.

Harry’s eyes were fixated on her, and magically this made it easier for her to listen to the song. Usually, when it played on the radio or she put it on herself, she cried and thought about how much her brother loved the song. Right now, she was just enjoying the way it sounded being sung in Harry’s voice. Every instrument on the stage was being perfectly executed - every note, every chord, every single thing was perfect. They did the song a great justice. She was mentally hitting herself for running out of the crowd to seek refuge in the restroom the last time they played this song. They really did it so perfectly..

A tingle ripped down her spine as she flicked her eyes away from his. She wasn’t confident enough to keep the contact locked anymore. It was starting to be too overwhelming for her. Harry didn’t let up, though, he kept his eyes trained on her. Ivy wasn’t sure why he was so focused on her, but it was making her stomach ache. She reached up and gently started to rub her fingers over the small pendant of her necklace, her eyes slowly lifting up to look at him.

For the rest of the song, and into the start of the next one, Harry stared down at her. He was intrigued by her change of behavior. Sure, they were now playing slower songs instead of the more upbeat ones, but he could tell she was feeling a different way than before. She was reclusive, her eyes nervously darting away from him every couple moments just to sneak their way back. He found it rather interesting how she could go from having so much energy to appearing to be so shy.

Ivy was deep in her thoughts as she stood quietly by herself, Harry’s attention causing chaos in her head. She fought between being infatuated with him and wanting to scream at him. She tried to bring those rude comments to the forefront of her mind, but the memory of his hand catching her on the sidewalk and his arm protecting her from that stranger shoved their way through. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all..

A frown shaped to her lips when he suddenly looked away from her, his eyes scoping out the crowd now. She immediately started to wonder if she had did something wrong. Was he even looking at her that long or did she imagine it? No, there was no way she could make up the intense feelings she had experienced. It was real, no doubt in her mind. She didn’t ponder it long, though, as she realized Emma was next to her again. Did he look away because he didn’t want to be caught staring at her?

“Sorry, took longer than I thought. There was a line.” She said loudly, leaning into Ivy’s shoulder.

She turned slightly to face her, presenting a fake smile. “You’re fine.”

“Did I miss anything?” She asked, her eyes peering up at the stage.

Ivy pushed out a breathy laugh. “No, nothing.”

The rest of the show was just as enjoyable as the first half, and even though Ivy didn't get much of Harry’s attention, he spared her a few quick looks every now and then. She was confused about the sudden interest he showed in her, or at least the curiosity. She didn’t want to refer to it as interest, in case it wasn’t that in any way at all. Presuming would only hurt her if she ended up being wrong.

Once the band had ended their show, they were gathering their things on the stage. Harry adjusted the microphone stand down to its default height before taking the guitar off his body. He had grabbed it and kept playing after the slower portion of the show was over. Emma was talking to Niall as he kneeled down on the stage, leaning close so he could hear her over the noise. The regular music had already started to play through the speakers in the ceiling. Ivy waited patiently for her, just standing nearby. She didn’t want to be too close in case Niall was trying to have a private conversation.

Something caught her attention all of a sudden. Harry gripped the neck of the guitar with one hand, the other pushing through his hair. When he took the first step to leave the stage, something fell onto the ground. It was his guitar pick, the light just so happened to hit it right so that Ivy was able to make out what it was. She furrowed her brows and stood on her tiptoes to look onto the stage. She saw the thick piece of green plastic sitting there. Harry had used it for some of the songs, but she did notice he didn’t have it in his fingers the entire show.

She glanced over at Niall and Emma, neither of them were paying her any attention. She used her heels as an advantage to push herself up more, reaching onto the stage to grab the pick. It was almost too far away, she barely was able to get a hold of it. When she brought it in front of her, grunting as she fell flat on her heels, she noticed that it had a darker green marbling look to it. She flipped it over, the opposite side was sporting two letters in black permanent marker ink. HS.

Not long after they started packing away the stage equipment, Ivy and Emma went back through the door with the curtain of stringed beads, going straight to the back table that was reserved for the band. Michelle, Zayn, and Cory were the firsts to join them. Ivy greeted everyone with a bright smile and a quick hug, congratulating them on a great show. She asked Zayn why Alyssa didn’t make it and he told her that their child wasn’t feeling the best, plus he added that she wasn’t a big fan of the bar scene.

“I saw you rocking out. Glad you enjoyed it.” Cory said to Ivy as he sat down next to her.

She smiled back. “You guys were great.”

She was slightly uncomfortable with how close he chose to sit next to her, so she casually slid over towards Michelle, acting as if she was going to start talking to her. She was distracted, though, so Ivy just swallowed gently and tried to ignore it. Maybe Cory meant nothing by it, most likely he didn’t, and she was just being cautious. The last time a man approached her, things did not end very well. She knew Cory wouldn’t do something like that, but there was still that underlying fear of it happening again.

They waited for a few minutes, everyone was talking amongst themselves. Ivy kept to herself, though. She looked inside her small purse, the guitar pick she rescued from the stage was sitting at the bottom. Her cheek got caught between her teeth as a thought crept into her mind. She wanted to return it to him. She wondered where he was and if he would join them. He liked to go off on his own, she had noticed that before, so she feared she might not get the chance to give it back to him tonight. If he did come to where they all were, would she get the opportunity to be alone with him? She didn’t feel as though she would muster up enough courage to give it to him in front of everyone. What if they thought it was weird?

The thoughts vanished from her mind as she suddenly heard his voice. She looked up, smiling gently as she saw that he and Niall had arrived with a round of drinks. She pushed down the lump that appeared in her throat, the thought of the first time she met everyone returned to her mind. Emma had offered her drink up that night because one wasn’t ordered for her.. She didn’t belong then, did she belong now?

“The owners got us two rounds tonight.” Niall said as he handed a cup of beer to Emma, then one to Michelle.

Harry had the other tray in his hand and he actually gave them out instead of placing it on the table. He gave one to Zayn, then to Cory. Ivy felt a ton of bricks land on her shoulders - there were two cups left on the tray. To her utter surprise, Harry grabbed one of them and extended his hand out to her. His eyes weren’t on her, though. She took the cup and mumbled a ‘thank you’ that he didn’t catch. Nobody else seemed to care about the gesture the way she did, no reactions happened. She thought she was just being silly, just a bit dramatic..

“Move over.” Harry said to Cory, expecting him to move to the right.

However, Cory didn’t do that. He slid to the left, opening up a spot right next to Ivy. It made her lips roll into her mouth, would he actually sit down next to her? She nearly froze as Harry sat down. He didn’t care where he sat, he just wanted to finally get off his feet for a while.

“Any drinking contests tonight?” Michelle teased with a laugh, scooting closer to be next to Ivy.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Harry was looking her way. She nervously laughed and shook her head. “No, not tonight.”

“Oh, come on. Just one?”

“No, no.. I drank too much the last time I was out.. I don’t want to overdo it.” She explained, trying to keep a smile on her face.

“Alright, fine. Next time.. I’m challenging you.” Michelle gave her a quick wink and a nudge of her knee.

Despite not feeling tired, Ivy was mentally drained. Her emotions had swirled so quickly earlier that her brain was exhausted. She couldn’t decide whether she was angry at Harry, embarrassed by everything that’s happened, or glad that he was giving her some sort of attention. She might ever know the meaning behind his stares tonight, but at least she knew they weren’t angry glares like she was used to.

She leaned her back against the comfortable material of the benched seating. She wished she was in her bed, but she wanted to stick it out and have fun the rest of the night. It was hard to keep track of everyone’s conversations, so she just listened to Michelle’s voice since she was closest. She didn’t participate in anything either. Nobody bothered her for a while, she figured they either didn’t want to intrude or didn’t notice her behavior. She wasn’t aware, but there was at least one person in the group that noticed.

Harry couldn’t help himself, she was too close to him. He gave her a quick glance every now and then, wondering if she was feeling sick or if she was sleepy. She had been active most of the night, jumping and dancing around having a good time - now, it was much different. He didn’t speak to her, though.

After a while, Niall and Emma left to go dance. Zayn said something about going to the bar, so Cory offered to join him. Ivy was perfectly content with where she was, sitting in between Harry and Michelle. A few minutes ticked by before Michelle stood up to stretch. She looked down at Ivy and smiled.

“Do you need to go to the restroom?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m okay.”

“Alright. I’ll be right back.” She disappeared into the small crowd, leaving Harry alone with Ivy.

It was obviously noticed by both of them. Harry tensed up, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared at the purple light in the center of the table. The glow shined beautiful on his skin, Ivy thought it was ethereal. She wondered what he was in such deep thought about, if anything at all - with the way he was staring at the light, not even blinking as the seconds went by.

She looked around the space, ensuring herself that everyone was gone. Now was her chance to speak to him. If she didn’t do it now, she wouldn’t do it at all and she would have a heap of regret. Quietly, she reached into her purse and took out the pick. She sucked in a deep breath and turned her head towards him.

“Harry.” She said his name carefully, almost too afraid to say it too loud, but she wanted him to hear her over the music.

He thought he was hearing things at first, but when he shifted his head and caught her eyes, he knew she had said his name. He lifted his brows, silently asking her what she wanted. He was surprised she had said anything to him, but he wasn’t disappointed.

“Um.. you dropped this earlier.” She moved her hand so he could see it.

“What?” His brows furrowed, his eyes cutting down to her hand. “Oh. You didn’t have to save it. They’re pretty cheap.” His tone was normal, but there was no laugh or smile laced in his words.

Ivy felt a twist in her stomach as she dropped it in his opened palm. He decided he had to get away from her, so he stood up and adjusted his shirt, about to walk away. Her soft voice caught his attention, any ounce of courage she had moments ago was gone.

“I just thought you’d.. you’d need it.”

When he looked down at her, she had already dropped her head and nervously folded her hands on her lap. He pushed out a sigh and licked his lips, knowing that he needed to be more polite to the girl. It wasn’t like she said anything outlandish. She was being kind to him.. something he wasn’t familiar with reciprocating to her.

“Ivy.”

The sound of his voice speaking her name had the same effect now as it did weeks ago. Her heart started to flutter uncontrollably and her stomach swormed with something much larger than butterflies. She lifted her head, her eyes finding his already staring down at her.

“Yeah?”

He just stared at her for a long moment, debating on how far to take his response. He wasn’t sure what she wanted or how she would take what he said to her. There had to be some resentment she had towards him, it would be impossible to not feel that way. He had done so much to her that was hateful and mean, how could she appreciate any ounce of kindness he gave to her? He stopped overthinking it and just spoke.

“Thanks anyway.”

Once Michelle came back from the restroom, she rejoined Ivy and they started talking about random things. It felt nice to have someone to talk to in the midst of all the intense feelings she was having. It was like she was able to shut it all off and focus on something else for once. Michelle never let the conversations die down, there was always something to talk about with her.

Nobody returned to the table while they were chatting, everyone was enjoying their night in their own ways. Ivy did take a second to wonder where Emma was, but she remembered Niall was with her so the concern wasn’t necessary. She wanted to think about Harry, but she kept her attention on Michelle instead. It was a relief to have a good distraction.

When Michelle started talking about her music preferences and favorite songs, Ivy couldn’t help but to think about the song they performed tonight. She wondered if it was a mutual decision or if someone, Harry or Zayn specifically, decided to play the song. Once Michelle finished her sentence, she decided to bring it up. She felt comfortable changing the topic.

“Hey, random question.” Ivy started with a laugh. “Do you guys switch the set up a lot or is it the same for a while?”

“I think we’re far past random.” Michelle grinned back. “Well, we usually keep it the same for a few months, depends on how many shows we do. We changed a few songs, but at the last minute Harry wanted to add one.”

Ivy raised her brows. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah.. like he told us this morning. Luckily we all knew the song already.” She rolled her eyes playfully before sipping her beer.

“Which song was it?” Ivy already felt as though she knew the answer, but she wanted it to be confirmed.

“Crimson and Clover.” Michelle said, adjusting her position on the bench.

Ivy’s heart picked up it’s speed for a few seconds, of course that was the answer she was waiting on. She knew there had to be a reason he added the song and she hoped that it was because of her. Before she had time to fully process the information, Michelle checked her phone and let out a sigh.

“Emma wants us to come dance with her. Niall’s tiring out.”

Ivy looked down at her phone as it vibrated, the same text Michelle got popped onto her screen. “She’s desperate.”

They both laughed and stood up at the same time. Michelle finished off her beer and discarded the cup on the table, Ivy had some left so she just brought it along with her. They slipped into the crowd, thankful that it wasn’t as big as the one in the main part of the building. Michelle spotted Emma and they quickly headed towards her.

“You’re free, Niall.” Michelle said as they approached them.

Niall let out a dramatic sigh. “Thank god.”

Emma gave him a playful shove and told him to go away. Ivy wasn’t particularly thrilled to start dancing again, so she opted for gentle swaying and soft singing, instead of the usual performances she gave. Michelle was more active and hyper, though, so she was able to keep up with Emma.

The girls enjoyed themselves for a short while, the music choices were nice for the most part. Ivy was doing fine until she felt someone’s eyes on her. She thought maybe she was imagining things and was just being paranoid, but after a few more minutes of the intense feeling, she decided to look around. At first, she didn’t see anybody giving her any sort of attention. She started to believe she was losing her mind. That is, until she landed her wandering eyes on a familiar face.

Not far from them was Harry and Cory, and those green eyes she had come to admire so much were staring right at her. Cory was talking and Harry seemed to be listening, or at least pretending to. She felt as though he was back at playing that game of his, making her feel intimidated and nervous. She got the idea to play along with him. Her thick lips shaped to a smile and he knew it was aimed for him and him only. He shook his head lightly and moved his eyes off of her. A proud feeling grew inside of her, she smirked to herself. She was just as good at playing his stupid game.

She was somewhat glad to know that Harry was close by. As much as she hated what happened to her at that club, she was thankful that he was there. If she hadn't found him, there would be no telling what could’ve happened to her. Everything was going well, even though Harry wasn’t looking her way anymore. She thought nothing else of it and just enjoyed the song that was currently on. Emma was forcing her to dance a little more than she wanted, but she couldn’t help but cave in and laugh. Michelle was glad to see she was more energetic now.

Ivy thought that maybe this night would actually be one hundred percent drama free. She didn’t consider the quick conversation she had with Harry as anything bad or hurtful, it was in fact rather calm and normal. But as always, there was something thrown in to ruin the night.

A guy was walking near them when he suddenly got caught up on his own feet and stumbled, his body shooting forward. The girls let out a combined shriek as beer splashed all over them, more so on Ivy than on Michelle. Emma wasn’t close enough for the spill to hit her. Ivy gasped as she touched her shirt the second the liquid soaked through to her skin. Michelle’s mouth was hung open, her hands in the air as she looked down at her legs - that’s where the liquid landed on her.

Harry looked over towards them as soon as they screamed, it was very audible even over the music, he didn’t catch the entire interaction. All he saw was a guy holding an empty plastic cup and the two of them standing there dripping with beer. He could see the stains on their clothes, and a few strands of Ivy’s long hair that soaked up some of the beer.

“Oh my god!” The guy immediately apologized to them, sincerity in his voice. “I’m so sorry!”

“It’s alright.” Michelle said with a nervous laugh, she was shocked that this happened so quickly.

“Is there anything I can do for you? I’m so sorry.”

Ivy was about to say something when a tall, broad figure appeared next to her. Harry pushed his way between the girls and the stranger, accidentally pushing Ivy backwards. She didn’t lose her footing though. She shot her eyes to Michelle, who was instantly worried.

“The fuck is your problem?” Harry yelled out, his height towering over the man’s.

Cory quickly ran up to them, too, his brows furrowed as he looked over their beer soiled clothes. He was going to ask what happened, but Harry’s loud voice was taking over.

“I said, what’s your fucking problem?”

“I-I didn’t-“ The poor guy was nervous and stammering, Harry’s demeanor was extremely intimidating.

Michelle grabbed Harry’s shoulder and tried to pull him back, but he didn’t move. “Harry, stop!”

“Are you fucking stupid, huh? What the fuck are you doing?” He kept on, yelling in the guy’s face like he had committed a heinous crime.

“He didn’t do it on purpose, Harry!” Emma tried her best to intervene, but she was slightly afraid of what could happen.

The loud screaming had caused quite the commotion, and everyone turned towards them to watch what was unfolding. Niall quickly made his way to where the crowd seemed to gather, he just had a feeling something was going on. He made it back to them just in time to see Harry push his hand into the guy’s chest, sending him back a couple of steps.

“Harry!” Cory called out his name, but it didn’t matter, he wasn’t going to listen to anyone.

Niall ran up to them, grabbing onto Emma’s elbow to pull her away. He asked her what happened and she quickly told him. He sighed and tried to walk in front of the guy, but Harry didn’t allow it. He shoved Niall back, not wanting him to get involved.

“Let it go, Harry.” He still tried his best to end it.

“This motherfucker threw fucking beer on them.” Harry shouted, his eyes locked on the stranger’s instead of on Niall. He wasn’t upset with his friends for trying to stop him, he was furious about the spilled beer that he believed was purposeful.

Ivy took a deep breath and stepped out from behind him. Cory gave her a shake of his head and tried to stop her, but she ignored him. She gasped as Harry pushed him again, shouting the same question over and over.

“He didn’t throw it on us!” She raised her voice, her small hand reaching up to touch Harry’s bicep in an attempt to get her attention.

He felt her touch and immediately looked over, not expecting to see her standing so close. Anger was swept over his face, and it was more terrifying than she thought it would be. He looked like he was about to rip someone’s head off their shoulders. Her hand started to shake so much that it fell from his arm. She stepped back, fear consuming her.

“I fucking watched him do it!” Harry yelled back at her, his words harsh and cold.

She didn’t like the way he screamed so easily towards her, how his anger was taking over him entirely. She licked her lips and tried to keep her composure. Harry’s eyes were glued to her now, he wasn’t even concerned with the guy still gripping the empty cup.

“He tripped, Harry. He didn’t do it on purpose.” Michelle cut in quickly, trying to de-escalate the situation.

Harry shot his eyes back to the guy as he tried to apologize again. He interrupted him with a threatening yell. Everyone in the room had their eyes on them, and the embarrassment was building among the small group. Ivy felt like her heart was going to pound out of her chest.

“Stop it, Harry. You’re the one acting stupid. Calm down, please!” She pleaded with him, trying her absolute best to end this.

Harry turned towards her, making her jump back. Cory grabbed her elbow and forced her back a few more steps, afraid that something might happen. Harry wouldn’t purposely hurt her, but he didn’t want her to get too close in case someone else got hurt. She shook off Cory’s hand, not wanting to be touched.

“Don’t tell me to calm down.” He spat out, not even considering how mean his voice sounded. Right now all he wanted to do was pound his fists into that guy’s face.

His attention wasn’t on her very long. He returned to the stranger, who Niall was apologizing to. Things were getting heated again as the man tried to explain what had happened, despite everyone else already doing that. Harry wasn’t having any of it. He demanded that the man apologize to the girls before he kicked his ass. It was all very dramatic and intense.

Cory gestured for Michelle to get closer to him and she quickly did. He went to grab Ivy’s arm again, this time more forcibly. He pulled her back towards him, but she didn’t like the way he took control over her. No matter what kind of situation she was in, she didn’t want to be grabbed that way.

“Stop it, Cory!” She let her frustration over Harry’s actions come out, her voice louder than usual.

He let her go, but not before Harry could whip his body around to them, the sound of her voice distracting him from the guy. Niall took the opportunity to guide the man away from them so he could apologize again. Harry had seen Cory’s hand on Ivy’s arm and he felt an immense amount of jealousy and anger, more than he had ever before. It reminded him of the night at the restaurant when Cory so confidently spoke to Ivy and tried to get to know her. It made his skin crawl.

“Don’t fucking touch her.” He screamed out, his face flushed bright red and his eyes full of anger.

Cory was confused more than anything. “Woah, relax!”

“What did you do to her?” He asked, trying to close the space between them but Ivy got in the way.

She slid in front of him, her hand hitting against his abdomen accidentally, but she didn’t move it. Her hand flattened against his body. “Harry, stop, please.”

“Why are you freaking out?” Michelle was starting to get scared, she wasn’t sure why Harry was suddenly turning on everyone.

He looked down at Ivy, ignoring everyone else around him. “What did he do to you?”

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

“Then why did you tell him to stop?”

“He just.. tried to pull me out of the way.” Ivy explained, hoping it worked this time. While she wasn’t pleased with how Cory touched her, she didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. It wasn’t worth it.

“I don’t believe that.”

“You’re scaring me.” She blurted out, her eyes squeezing shut as she turned her head, not wanting to see his anger ridden features. He looked like he could tear a building out of the ground.

Harry backed up, his eyes trained on her. She felt his presence shifting, her eyes open to see where he was going. She felt a lump forming in her throat as he shoved his hand through his hair and tugged at his roots. She feared he’d explode if someone said one more word to him.

“I have to get out of here.”

That was the last thing he said before he stormed out of the building, leaving everyone more confused than anything. Ivy was speechless. She didn’t know what to think or how to feel. She had never seen someone so angry before. Even when that guy was following her and Harry got involved, he didn’t act that way. Tonight he was outraged. She actually feared him. Maybe he wasn’t worth all the hassle. He seemed to be more of a problem than she first imagined. Now matter how nice his eyes made her feel earlier.. she didn’t want to see them ever again.

—•—

That next morning was more awkward than anything. Niall had stayed over with Emma and together they prepared breakfast. Ivy was confused when she woke up to the smell of food cooking, and when she strolled into the kitchen in her pajamas, she saw them finishing up. They both greeted her with warm smiles.

“What are you guys doing?” She said through a gentle laugh, looking around at the mess that was made in the kitchen.

“Just making an apology meal for you.” Niall said with a smile, although it wasn’t very funny.

“An apology meal?” She furrowed her brows. “For what?”

He sighed. “For Harry’s behavior, of course.. isn’t that always the case?”

Ivy lifted her brows at his reply, not sure what to say in response. Everyone was very on edge after Harry disappeared last night, and they all left a short time afterwards. When she got home she took a shower immediately, the smell of beer had seeped into her skin and clothes.

“You don’t have to apologize.”

Emma grunted. “Yes we do.”

“It was all a misunderstanding.” She mumbled back, taking a seat at the table.

“And it shouldn’t have been.” Niall said. “He embarrasses me every time we go out with you and it drives me crazy.”

“It’s not your fault, though. I.. I understand he was.. drunk and not willing to listen. It’s fine.”

Emma shook her head. “It’s not fine. And we have to make it up to you, again.”

“Maybe one day.. I won’t have to give you so many apologies.” Niall didn’t sound hopeful about that.

“That would be nice.” She tried to have a little humor, not wanting to focus entirely on the situation.

“I just can’t believe he acted that way.” Emma frowned. “Over a spilled drink?”

Once everything was finished cooking, they each got what they wanted and sat down at the table. Ivy stayed quiet as they ate, hoping that no more talk about last night’s events would come up. Niall and Emma were embarrassed and she understood why, she just didn’t want them to focus on it forever. The situation was over, there was no need in pouring fuel into the fire. The person that owed her the biggest apology would never give her one anyway.

[a/n: ok ok ok im super excited for part 6!!! it’s definitely a big turning point for them (an unexpected event forces them to spend time together) it’s going to be worth the wait! hope u enjoy this, reblog like all that nice stuff! see u soon]

taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @victoriasigaard @ariiscringe @harlowsgirl @lomllover @haniaaa04 @sideboobrry11 @tenaciousperfectionunknown n @fangirl509east @fruity-harry @sassamanda77 @lizsogolden @prettygurl-2009 @sincerely-yours-marsbar @boopookie @mypolicemanharryyy @angelbunny222 2 @mads3502 @harrysredroom @inlikea-coolway @matildasatellite @imaginexxharry

[yourislandgirl]

*:ꔫ:*ₓₒ LET ME TREAT YOU ˚ ༘♡ੈ✩ || 박종성 x fem!reader || drabble

— KISS ME, DON’T SAY NO series

summary: jay was a giver, he always has been. so when your darling boyfriend decided to treat you with his new pay check, you were as grateful as always, but you soon decide that there were more important things than a new pair of jeans

genres: fluff, romance, non-idol!jay x non-idol!reader, est. relationship

warnings: attempts at humour, the smallest hint of angst, potential to feel guilt bcs jay is too good for this world

[archive]

“I might try this one on too.”

Jay smiled, gesturing for you to let him hold the jeans.

His first pay check had just arrived and your boyfriend had surprised you with a trip to the mall and a nice lunch.

You felt like you’d already splurged enough on the delicious affogato at the cafe but Jay had insisted that you both treat yourselves to some new clothes. And you desperately wanted a new pair of jeans.

“Jay, I swear, it’s impossible to find one that fits exactly the way I want.” You had about four different styles of denim pants hung over one arm as you sifted through the hangers for more options.

Jay was designated with the task to keep track of which jeans seemed closest to your desired style.

You had your back turned to him but you could still hear your boyfriend sigh a little, leaning against the wall as you continued your hunt.

“Love,” he called out, “how about you start trying some of these and see if we can eliminate some options.”

You waved a hand as a gesture for him to wait a second. “I just need one more!”

Jay scoffed a laugh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sure. Sure. Whatever you say.”

“Mhm.”

more under cut !!

After staying silent for a few moments, Jay cleared his throat. “If these jeans fit anything like the ones you’re wearing right now, then I guess it’ll be worth it.”

You gasped, flicking your head to the side, “Park Jongseong!”

Heart racing at the sound of his laughter, you turned away hastily to grab the last pair of jeans in your size before rushing off to the trials rooms.

“Goddamn, slow down.” Jay followed behind you, his long strides helping him catch up in no time.

A smirk creeped onto your face and you shook your head involuntarily at the way Jay pulled you closer by your waist, walking in tandem as you reached the last stall.

“Here.” He handed you the pile you considered ‘Pile 1’ aka the jeans that you were hoping and praying would fit you because they looked perfect. He proceeded to take ‘Pile 2’ off your hands. “Gimme those, and I’ll be right here if you need me.”

You leaned up and kissed his cheek. “Thanks baby,” you whispered, before sliding the curtain shut.

Out of the four jeans you’d brought into the trail room, three fit you quite nicely, but one in particular, was perfect. So much so that you couldn’t help but poke your head out (followed by a quick laugh at Jay’s startled expression) before asking him to come inside.

“So, what do you think?”

Jay dropped the jeans he was holding onto the trail room seat, his eyebrows furrowed as he concentrated between you and your reflection in the mirror.

You turned a couple times to glance at yourself, extremely satisfied with the way they fit.

“You look great,” Jay smiled, his eyes closing slightly into half mooned crescents. “You definitely need to get these.”

You brushed your hair back, sighing from the relief of finally finding a new pair of jeans and not having to wear the same two pieces you had for years. “How much is it?” You asked aloud, turning back to let Jay check the tag.

You watched his face as the sound of cardboard brushing against his fingertips filled the small room. His expression was pretty unmoving, a simple jut of his lower lip followed by a nod.

“It’s good, totally fits the budget.”

You frowned, “Okay… What is it, though?”

“Uh…”

You twisted around to check the tag yourself before feeling your jaw drop. “What?”

Jay stepped forward, his hands enveloping yours, making you let go of the price tag as he turned you back around to face your guys’ reflection. “Don’t worry about it.”

You blinked at his nonchalance, “Jay, it’s not within our budget, it is our budget.”

“You know I can afford it,” he reasoned.

“That’s not the point!”

“Love-”

You look away from the mirror, facing your boyfriend and resting your hands against his chest. “Jay, this is your first proper pay check, this isn’t an internship anymore, you deserve this money.”

“I know that.” Jay leaned a little closer, “But I want to spend it on you.”

You pursed your lips. On the one hand, you really wanted these jeans, but agreeing to spend that much money on them — regardless of the fact that quality denim is an investment — it wasn’t fair to Jay and therefore, went against everything that you stood for.

“I’m not doing it,” you muttered, shaking your head. “I don’t need these. I want them, but I can — no, I will find a more affordable price.”

Jay opened his mouth to interject, only to be silence by your soft palm against his lips.

Your voice was just a whisper, “I don’t want you to convince me. You already give me so much, Jay. We can buy me some nice jeans another time, just enjoy the money you earned for yourself, please.”

Jay’s eyes darted back and forth between yours, you could feel the gentle smile of his lips against your palm before you removed it.

“Come here,” he murmured, pulling you closer and kissing you tenderly. “I’m not exactly happy with this,” his words came out muffled between your kisses, “But just know that I will be spoiling you soon.”

“How about you let me pick out some clothes for you and we’ll call it even?” You slid your arms around his neck.

Jay smirked. “That’s not even in any way.”

“You’ll get a hot new outfit.”

“Tempting.” He leaned forward, nudging your noses together.

a.n: second instalment of the ‘kiss me don’t say no’ drabble series !! trust cute bf jay to want to treat you when he should be the one getting special treatment :(

taglist: @oceanstide — @sheepsgf

2025 © yourislandgirl

[animeyanderelover]

Anon: Nsfw Hc’s for Sukuna?

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, sadism, isolation, abduction, afab reader, Sukuna is a heavy trigger warning, Nsfw, non-con, blood kink, public sex, bondage, blindfold sex, humiliation, blowjobs, gagging, degradation, dacryphilia, breath play, period sex, breeding, branding, murder

Tags: @lovley-valentine7

Nsfw Hc’s

🗾There’s one principle that has always applied to Sukuna and that will always apply to him. That he will always take everything he wants. Throughout his entire existence Sukuna has always indulged in his hedonistic desires, has killed and devoured humans all in the name of his own entertainment and pleasure. Reborn in a new era with new rules and morals, none of that changes. This all spills only disaster for you when you suffer the worst fate of all by becoming the object of Sukuna’s desire and obsession. In his eyes you are no equal. No, you are an object that he will solely use for his own pleasure and it takes no Einstein to realise what this means. To state it simply and painless, Sukuna couldn’t care less about your own consent. He takes you whenever he wants however he wants and the more you scream, cry or suffer the more he will revel in it all. A sadist to the marrow of his bones, there’s nothing but a pleasant tingling that scratches his brain when you are squished beneath his body, snot and tears running down your face as his thick cock rams into you, rearranging your insides. Everything Sukuna does, he does for his own pleasure and your suffering is his pleasure.

🗾You have to be prepared to be available for Sukuna all the time. It doesn’t matter what time it is, if the King of Curses wants to fuck you, you will let yourself be fucked. Spread your legs for him and let him pound into you like the fuck doll that you are. Go down on your knees and worship his cock with your hands and your mouth. Suck him off until he splashes his cum into the cave of your mouth and swallow everything obediently to not waste even a single drop. All you have to focus on is his own pleasure, your own needs and feelings are of no worth. After all isn’t the entire purpose of your existence now to entertain and serve him? To Sukuna it doesn’t matter that he fucks into your mouth so hard that your throat hurts for hours afterwards and you start gagging and heaving. No, if at all your pathetic display of humanity only brings him more sadistic joy and only pushes him on to keep tormenting you. He thrives on humiliation and degradation, often refers to you as his “fuck doll” or “whore” whenever you are forced to suck him off. Don’t deny him those tears of fear and humiliation or he will fuck you raw until you are nothing but a blubbering mess pleading him to stop.

🗾Literally doesn’t matter where the two of you are. Sukuna will pound into your pussy whenever he feels like it and nothing and no one can stop him. As with all things in regard to him it is best to try to never speak of your uncomfortableness too much as this is but an open invitation for Sukuna to inflict more suffering upon you. After all what better way to show the world how big of a slut you are than to have you bend over and loudly moaning whilst he hammers his cock into your soaked cunt? There’s nothing quite like it as he forces everyone through a traumatising experience. The one suffering more than anyone else though is always going to be you as you are the main star of everything. After all those people are nothing but a temporary audience for him until he has fucked you stupid and decides that he wants a small snack. All you can do is watch helplessly with cum-stained thighs as he slaughters all those innocent people before he returns between your legs, the ecstasy of death and fresh flesh aiding his arousal as he’s rock hard once more. Cry, give up or even pass out and it won’t make a difference. Sukuna will only stop once he is fully satisfied.

🗾Everything that will only add to his dominance will be used. However, no toys will be put inside of you. The only thing that will be stuck in any of your holes is his dick and nothing else. Everything else is only ever going to be garnish and never more. Sukuna still makes frequently use of it all. From bondage where he gets his hands on purpose on rough ropes that burn your skin and rub it raw so that he can watch the growing discomfort on your face to blindfolds that he forces you to walk around with before he even rips your clothes away, encouraging you to entertain him in a little game of the blind and helpless mouse and the predatory and superior cat. It only adds to your terror as one of your major senses is taken away, only his haunting cackles in your ears as you stumble and fall around only to eventually feel the cool air on your skin as your clothes are torn apart and one pair of hands pulling you closer by the hips, spearing you onto his erect cock with no warning nor preparation. Your neck is a common target as you look far too pretty with one of his hands wrapped around it, chocking and coughing as he slowly cuts your airways off.

🗾There’s no rationality to any of his cruelties aside from the sadistic kick of dopamine that the King of Curses receives every single time. It is all the motivation that you need. Especially during your period there is never a day where you aren’t fucked as you drive Sukuna crazy with a bodily phenomenon that you can’t even do anything about. He loves the taste of blood, especially your blood so if your body can’t help but be a free feeding station for him who is he to deny it? Your period week is the only time where it won’t be his dick but instead his tongue mercilessly thrusting into you, his face buried in the curly locks of your pussy. Your cramps are completely forgotten as instead you experience the pain of overstimulation over and over again until you’re shaking and sobbing, your whole body trembling. At times Sukuna doesn’t even let you wear anything to cover your lower body as he considers it to be a waste of material that will ultimately be torn apart by him anyways. It’s uncomfortable, especially when you have your menstruation and the blood stains your thighs but it is this sight that Sukuna finds all too arousing, the taste of you already lingering on his tongue.

🗾There is going to be a point in time where he will brand you, using his fire to burn his name onto your body whilst continuing to slam his hips against yours, the force and speed of his thrusts increasing as you start trashing and screaming around the moment the pain invaded your senses. You should worship him for it is only through his mercy that you are still even alive, should be honored that he chooses you as his cockwarmer and cumdumpster. In fact it is a special case that there are no other women he keeps as bedwarmers but even if they were, they wouldn’t last long. You’re always left in a rough shape after Sukuna is done with you and in multiple cases you are left unconscious as well. Deep scratches from not two but four hands, aching parts of your body where he squeezed too hard and bite marks all over you, ruining your skin. Often you aren’t even able to walk the next morning, the sharp and hot pain not enabling you to walk on shaky legs. Uraume tends to look after you whenever Sukuna has had his way with you. He knows that his servant is much more talented with such things than he could ever be so he leaves you in more capable hands.

[leverage-ot3]

my drafts finally ran out and I’ve been too exhausted to go through like 2k worth of drafts to tag so apologies abt break in posting

urgent question: if you have any tips about recognizing undercover cops and ICE agents please write below. I never thought my very liberal state would come to this but I live in an area with a very high level of immigrants + multiple municipalities are basically de facto sanctuary cities since they have extra protections written into local law

I work at a healthcare facility that sees high numbers of new americans (with varying ‘legal’ statuses). there are reports from individuals within the local spanish speaking whatsapp channels that ICE is stopping people on their way to our healthcare facility. I can’t disclose too much without revealing highly identifying information about who I am and where I work, but higher management is not handling this good enough. everyone in my department (social work) is outraged and will do whatever it takes to protect the people we serve regardless of management. they deny it’s happening because it wasn’t happening when they went outside to look but that doesn’t mean shit- they’re 100% making rounds and patrolling. we are likely going to start taking walks during our limited breaks around the neighborhood to keep lookout. I’d much rather have a patient do telehealth or reschedule, or have them wait in my office an extra 20 minutes instead of possibly getting stopped by undercover agents. with the recent executive orders healthcare facilities aren’t even respected as sensitive locations discouraged from being raided anymore.

so yeah. any tips on spotting any undercover cops/ICE would be swell. funnily enough I have been thinking a lot about that one thing eliot said about undercover law enforcement and shoes. I’ve also been researching that already + rights and what to tell patients + everything else I can think of BUT thought I’d float it out here as well

stay safe, everyone in the US and outside. you are cared for, loved, important. you matter and deserve to be treated with humility and respect. look after each other

[arihi]

Charmed! 2025 (A Community Recap)

Charmed 2025 happened this past weekend, the 10th anniversary. My con recaps of years past desperately tried to fit in as much detail and information of each day, play-by-plays as I tagged everyone I could remember, talked about all the classes I'd been to, the people I'd met. Nowadays, I'm content to just do a general overview.

I spent a lot of time pensive and thinking about my time spent in the community and during cons. The 10th anniversary for Charmed meant that marked 9 years since I'd come out to my very first one. Longer in the community when I was still only online. How does the time fly by so quickly? It doesn't feel real. I still feel very new, and yet when I look around I'm surrounded by unfamiliar faces, cons growing too large and too quickly for me to recognize every face like I used to at the beginning. This sentiment is far from unique, and I had several conversations during the con with people who echoed similar feelings. At one point, I found myself in a group of people who all predated me in the con-going circuit - a rarity as more and more time goes on. We talked about the growth of cons, my first one. Though I'd spent a lot of the day feeling listless without realizing why, I found myself feeling comforted by the company, and realizing I had been lonely.

It's not at all a bad thing, and I'm genuinely happy that more and more people are finding community at these events - god knows I did. It's an adjustment is all, an ever-shifting growth of my own. It's plain to see from my blog activity over the years that I withdrew from talking as often. Not good, not bad, but also for good, and for bad. It's probably good that I don't reveal as much about myself at the drop of a hat. It's probably bad that I'm more avoidant now than I'd like to be. I'd remarked to a friend a while back that I didn't miss the old MMO that we met each other on and spent our days playing, but that I missed the period of time in my life that it defined. Similarly, I think I was going through a huge shift in life and perspective at the time I was first finding my feet at these events, these gatherings of people that taught me that it was worth it to seek my own happiness, that *I* was worth it. I know this inherently now, but it was much more of an impact back then for obvious reasons. I suppose it's like the honeymoon period of a relationship vs. settling into its stability. I suppose you could say I'm in a long-term relationship with myself! And it's some of the healthiest it's ever been. And now that I'm doing better and more stable these days, I should try to push myself to be out there more often.

Every time someone tells me that I've grown so much, I can't help but tear up and cry. (I'm doing it now as I type this.) And wouldn't you believe it, that happened to me like FOUR TIMES during Charmed!! Come on y'all!! What the hell. There's nothing that solves feeling stagnated in life like hearing that from someone else. I resolved myself at the beginning of this post not to feel like I had to document every interaction and tag every person, but it's difficult to fight the urge to yell it from the rooftops, how each interaction genuinely touched me, how they were the highlights of my con. How I miss them again, and how I can't wait to see them again. It couldn't come soon enough. Thank you to those who have watched my journey and always encouraged me. (I feel like I say this often, but, please know that I mean it every time. Except this time like triple it. That's how much it means to me.)

Charmed changed my life. I will say it to my dying breath and I will always be forever grateful for it. I learned people could be happy. I learned I could be happy. The connections I made at the first Charmed and subsequent years have changed my life beyond what a 2015 version of me could ever imagine. Tangibly, too -- beyond just a shift in perspective and mentality and wanting better for myself, I wouldn't have been able to move out without the chain of events that started at this first con. So- thank you. Thank you. Thank you so much.

I challenge myself not to document every interaction because in the past, that was how I had to live. Every post was proof I had experienced hardship (and lived). Every con meant a new lease on life and I had to memorize every single one and struggle to do hours long voice recordings about each day of the event to remember as much as I could because, that was all I could bring back. And I don't need to anymore - not because I don't want to remember, but because I'm in a better place now. These aren't the desperate emergency infusions of care I didn't know I could have; now, they are cherished moments with friends old and new, a drop in the bucket of happy memories. And part of life is to forget and talk about old stories and remember them again with good company.

Until the next one, and the one after that, and the many more after that.

-- Ari

[grimmweepers]

okay claps hands together

frag post time <3 as i always say with my longer frag posts, there is absolutely no need to read or interact (but you can ofc hehe). i usually just post these to document my thoughts bc i personally go through my frag tag very often.

i’m just sharing the two current fragrances at the top of my wishlist. i’m really going to try add these to my collection as the weather gets cooler ���

i want this one because i’ve literally never smelt anything like it. i love my drinks and cocktails and this smells just like that! minus the pungent alcohol scent ofc. i personally really love cucumbers in my cocktails so it reminds me so much of my favourite drinks. some of the best cocktails i’ve ever had was in new york and at an underground jazz bar somewhere in my city. both of which had cucumbers in them so - yeah! i was sold.

here’s what solidified it for me though. so it’s called ‘roses on ice’ right? it actually smells cold. it actually smells like a cool drink. it actually smells like if you were to sniff ice. the cooling effect is just so lmao… cool to me. this scent embodies someone drenched in diamonds or swarovski crystals. “icy” to the fullest sense. it’s a fresh and aquatic scent so i feel like even a non-alcohol consumer would enjoy it because it’s not too boozy. it’s also a masculine rose fragrance which is nifty :] you don’t come by those a lot!

also for diluc lovers, this liquor collection also has a scent called ‘angel’s share’ mwah 💋 i might dive into that one more when i assign fragrances to genshin characters.

OKAY NEXT ONE AND THIS ONE WILL BE A BLIND PURCHASE. i follow a frag poster and i’ve seen her talking about this for months. i think she’s really cool and i love her aesthetics so me being all starry eyed, i have put my complete trust in her taste. i might find a sample to purchase before i do a full purchase bc… erm this is quiet pricey and i’m not made of money unfortunately.

but yeah, i mean the name already sounds interesting to me. divine perversion? GIVE IT TO ME NOW. sprays all of you with it since you are all perverts /aff

i’m a whore for leathery and peppery notes. i saw someone describe it as ‘like a woman who knows her worth just entered the room’. i feel like the sweeter notes will make it smell a little naughty, a little playful. it’s very much unusual and bdsm vibes. i heard that this isn’t the most daring scent from francesca’s bianchi’s creations. it’s more mass pleasing so it’ll be a good first to jump into. not that i can’t handle unusual or strong scents but i’d rather know i’m likely to not regret this blind purchase. it is a ‘well-behaved kink’ if you will.

[seventh-district]

Making Incorrect H:SR Quotes Until I Run Out of (hopefully) Original Ideas - Pt. 4 - Nuthin' but Boothill Edition

[Pt. 1] [Pt. 2] [Pt. 3] [Pt. 5] [Pt. 6]

[lotus-lamps]

tysm the weekly light for giving me motivation to draw LMAO

a lil messy but thats ok. it was a lot of fun so thats all that matters haha (I LOVE RENDERING AND DO THE LIGHTING AND ALL THAT SHIT ITS SO FUN) rip mothy gilbert also had too much fun ig lmao

[ganondoodle]

got this reblog on one of my posts were i talked about being anxious about the future of the zelda series after totk and-

i even went back and unblocked them just to check my own post and check twice what they meant exactly- but i still dont know how they got to these conclusions

i never said i 'want a good uwu ganondorf' (bc that would mean hes aligned with hyrule bc thats how goodness works!!!!11!1!!!), i also dont think of any of the zeldas as 'whores' (seriously, where did that come from?? neither me nor the addition of someone agreeing with me said anything like that??? did they think bc the addition called tloz misogynistic means we think zelda is a whore????? huh???)

its also funny how they say they want zelda to stay a simple fairytale rather than have 'people like me' bc .. one point i talked about in the og post was how the evil arab thing VS good white people media likes to do so much is so normalized here that its simply seen as a simple harmless fairytale trope instead of a big underlying issue in general media and the writers might not even realize it (which is worse) bc the most 'generic' appeal is to people who dont think of it as a problem in the first place, because it is so normalized

(huh, i wonder about what kind of person that part was about .. hmmmm)

(ALSO funny they mention princess hilda as nuanced villain ... like ... wow they are so nuanced about purple haired people!!- like guess why we want a nuanced/less badly/less flat written ganondorf and what he, in particular, has not in common with other villains! its not his hair color! .... or was that point supposed to mean .. look we have one female character that is a villain, its not misogynistic! idk honestly)

(and the classic, "you just call it this/dont like it bc its not what you wanted !!!!!!!2!"1!112!!")

also funny how its 'never gonna be progressive enough' like asking for the franchise to maybe put a little more thought and nuance into their white divine right vs evil desert man simulator instead of making it worse is already asking too much

(i dont know what the last point has to do with anything??)

(also yes totk is racist, like most if not all of the franchise and a alot of other media as well, shocker- you can still like it though, i and plenty of other people are still fans of it, we just wish they did a little more with their stuff and maybe not make the racism problem WORSE)

(also yes the hyrule monarchy is also evil :))) )

(and also not so secretly so either :)) )

[skidthelid]

Heh. Whatever. Go shitty Mind doodle

[mc-tummy-blur]

And I’ll get you yet

I’ve got to make you mine

Just know I’m not the sinister type

Click for better quality

Check my pinned post to see links on how you can help the people in Palestine

[buglaur]

she's live

now you can see what everyones height is in my head because i refuse to download height sliders. look at ass <3