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whytheylosttheirminds · 7 months ago

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Don't Call Me Kid - Chapter 5 (part two)

(Rafe Cameron x Reader series, 3.8k words)

series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.

tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder

series content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues

⇢ series masterlist

Years later, you’d still wonder if Topper did it all on purpose.

When you asked him, he’d just wink and say “bet you’d like to know.”

As your group walked down the dock towards the rental kiosk, Topper pulled out his phone, grinning down at the screen.

“What’s funny?” Carter tried to read over his shoulder.

“Nothing,” he tucked his phone in his pocket quickly, failing to hide the cheeky look in his eyes, zero poker face. “Kelce is coming.”

The guy Carter had haggled with brought your group over to the three jet skis and gave you a demonstration on how to drive them. You weren’t paying very close attention, more focused on the uneven pairing of the five of you and how to ensure you didn’t end up on the same jet ski as Tom. His rudeness this morning was the final nail in the coffin of your crush.

The guy gave Carter three keys, and you met her eyes, knowing she was thinking the same thing.

Topper looked at Carter hopefully, his big puppy dog eyes watching her with anticipation. You felt for him, the two of you really weren’t all that different. Sure, he’d gotten to hook up with Carter plenty of times, his crush not totally unrequited, but she’d never given him what he really wanted. At the end of the day, you were just two people who were really good at loving people who didn’t love you back. Still, you knew in your heart of hearts that Carter did love him back, even if she wouldn’t admit it. Maybe you would never get your dream, but you could make sure that two people you cared about got theirs, and that might be the only thing that made this all worth it.

You planned it out quick, knowing Carter was seconds from asking you to ride with her so you wouldn’t be with Tom, and also knowing that what she really wanted was an afternoon alone with Topper.

“I told Kelce I’d ride with him,” you blurted out.

“Did you?” Carter asked skeptically, trying to figure you out.

“Yeah, I think he’s still worried I’m mad at him,” you made up off the top of your head. “Thought I’d throw him a bone.”

Carter watched you the whole time she boarded the back of Topper’s jet ski, telling him to wait up so they didn’t leave you alone. Tom and Sabrina didn’t seem to care about leaving you, speeding off the second they climbed on their jet ski, Sabrina’s over-the-top shrieks echoing through the air.

“That bother you?” Topper asked when he caught you scowling in their direction.

“Actually, I’m thinking they might be made for each other,” you concluded.

“So you’re not, like, into him?” Topper asked hopefully.

“Not anymore. That ship sailed so quick,” you snorted.

“Ah,” he tried to play it cool, “good to know.”

“Don’t get any fucking ideas,” Carter warned him.

“I didn’t say anything!” He insisted.

“You don’t have to, you have zero poker face,” Carter said. “No Tom does not equal yes Rafe.”

“I’m just saying it’s good to know. Am I not allowed to know things?”

You rolled your eyes at their bickering, less than surprised they were having this conversation right in front of you.

“Y’know, you guys can just take off, I’ll be fine waiting for Kelce,” you offered, desperate to move this conversation about your love life out to sea and away from you.

“Right, Kelce,” Topper nodded. “Kelce is coming.”

“Why are you being so weird?!” Carter squinted at him.

“I’m not! I just wanna go!” Topper revved the engine of the jet ski.

Carter looked at you one more time, checking that you were okay with this.

“Have fun!” You said to reassure her.

That’s all Topper needed to hear, he hit the throttle and pulled away from the dock as fast as he could. Carter’s laughter filled the air, she grabbed him tight and tucked her chin in the crook of his shoulder as he drove. She was happy, so you were happy. Your whole life, that’s really all it took, and you knew she felt the same way about you.

With that lovely thought, you climbed on the jet ski so you’d be ready to go as soon as Kelce arrived.

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Rafe held the keys a little too tight, Kelce struggling to pry them from his hands.

“You gotta take it easy on the clutch, she’s sensitive.”

“I know how to drive, man,” Kelce wriggled the keys from his grip as he climbed into the driver’s seat of Rafe’s truck.

Rafe stalled by the door for a minute, his feet suddenly feeling very heavy. He looked around the marina, scanning for the group. His heart skipped a beat when he found only you, bobbing in the water on your jet ski all alone.

He’d texted Topper a head’s up that he was coming and asked him to let you know. He didn’t want you to think he was in on Topper’s dumbass scheme to get you two together. If he was gonna do this he was gonna do it right, not try to trick you into it.

Now you were waiting for him, looking so gorgeous with your legs on either side of the seat and your hair blowing gently in the wind.

Usually, he didn’t call girls beautiful, typically opting for hot, or sometimes pretty if he was drunk. But the only word for you right now, and always, was beautiful.

“You gonna let me leave, man?” Kelce asked, gesturing to Rafe’s hands, still clutching the handle of the door.

“Yeah, sorry,” Rafe pulled away, wiping his hand against his board shorts when he realized it was clammy, the sight of you making him nervous in a way he had never been before.

“What’s got you so worried? Are you scared of her or something?” Kelce mocked him.

Rafe was surprised that Kelce had actually caught on to who he was looking at, giving him an annoyed eye roll.

“I’m not scared of her,” he defended himself.

“Don’t even worry about it man, I bet she’s still wrapped around your finger.”

Rafe shot Kelce a steely warning look he’d given him a thousand times.

“I’m just saying, you don’t need to worry,” Kelce explained. “You’re the man.”

Kelce was an idiot, and he spent a good ninety percent of their friendship pissing Rafe off, but he always tried to hype Rafe up. Usually he was annoyed by it, but right now, he actually needed it.

You used to talk about him that way, too. Oh, the money he would pay for you to see him in a good light again. He’d swim across this entire bay just to hear one kind word about him coming from your lips.

“Nah, I’m really not,” he shook his head slightly, looking back toward you. “But I think with her I could be.”

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The audacity, the fucking nerve of him to come strolling down the dock looking that good. The sun actually broke through the crowds at his arrival, like he’d bribed the gods. He strolled towards you so casually, his grin easy, like he didn’t know he was the most attractive man you’d ever seen in real life. It pissed you off.

“What are you doing here?” You snapped at him when he reached you.

His grin faltered, like he was the one surprised to see you.

“Didn’t Topper tell you I was coming?” He asked.

“No, of course he didn’t,” you said, finally understanding the reason for Topper’s strangeness earlier.

“I asked him to,” Rafe swore. “I didn’t want to make you think I was trying to-”

“I think I’m just gonna go alone,” you cut him off, turning the key in the engine of the jet ski, desperate to put an ocean between you and him before he said another considerate thing that he’d just undo later. “You can rent your own.”

“No can do,” said the owner, arriving to hand Rafe a lifejacket. “This is our last one. You better take your boyfriend with you, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes at the situation and the misogynistic comment.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you mumbled.

Rafe felt the correction was unnecessary, but you didn’t seem to be in the mood for constructive feedback at the moment.

“Is it cool if I, uh, can I come with you?” He wasn’t walking back down this dock without trying.

“Fine,” you agreed reluctantly. “But I’m driving.”

“Good with me,” he climbed on quickly before you could change your mind.

With a kick that sent you both lurching forward, the jet ski roared as you tightened your hand on the throttle. Instinctually, Rafe’s hands landed on your side, holding you both in place. You only had a second to feel the pads of his fingers clinging to the soft skin of your waist before he pulled them away.

“Shit, sorry,” he said.

The guy on the dock leaned forward to push the jet ski from the dock, redirecting you out toward the bay.

“No, actually you should hold on,” he instructed. “These babies go fast and it’s a little choppy out there today. Take it real easy out of the marina and then you can kick it up when you’re in open water.”

You could feel Rafe’s hands twitch with hesitancy before they rested on your sides again, so lightly you wondered if he was actually touching you at all.

With a push, you drifted out to sea, slowly picking up speed with the turn of the throttle.

“Do you want me to let go?” He asked, leaning in so you could hear him over the roar of the motor.

Somehow, you thought two completely conflicting thoughts at the exact same time:

Yes, now.

and

No, never.

You settled on, “whatever.”

Rafe started to let go, but the jet ski hit the wake of a nearby boat, and you both nearly flew off the seat. His grip tightened protectively, practically pinning your body down. With his strong hands on you so firmly, it felt like you could hit a tidal wave and he’d still have you in his grasp. You needed more of whatever that was.

Your laughter filled the salty air as you purposefully drove you and Rafe over the choppiest patches of the water, hair whipping behind you into his face, and he didn’t even care. He watched you in the side view mirror on the front of the jet ski, memorizing every inch of your smile like he’d never see it again.

“Jesus, are you trying to kill us?” He teased, yelling over the woosh of the wind.

“It’d be a fun way to go!” You yelled back, meeting his eyes in the mirror.

Rafe’s hands still on your waist, you felt him lean in slightly. Even with two lifejackets between you, the proximity of your bodies was electrifying. You could feel his strong thighs on either side of your hips, closing you in everytime you hit a bump, securing you in place. You wondered if he was doing it on purpose or if it was just his instinct, you didn’t know which was hotter.

The water rushed behind you, a foamy wake marking your path as you continued driving as fast as you could. The others must’ve gone a different way out of the marina, because they were nowhere in sight. The sky was darkening slightly, the shift in weather causing most boats to drive the opposite way, back to the docks. But you just kept going, and Rafe didn’t tell you to turn around, both drunk on the adrenaline of the speed and the feeling of each other’s skin.

After a particularly jostling bump, the engine sputtered slightly.

“Fuck, what was that?” You puzzled, turning the throttle harder but gaining no speed.

“Here, you gotta twist it like this,” Rafe’s arms wrapped around you, his hands covering yours as he guided you to turn the throttle in the exact way you just were.

“That’s exactly what I was doing,” you bickered. “It’s not working.”

“Maybe I should drive?”

“It’s not my driving, something’s wrong with the jet ski,” you argued, swatting his hands away.

“Can you just let me try?” He argued back.

“No, you’re making it worse!”

The engine continued to sputter until it cut completely, causing both your bodies to lunge forward as it came to an abrupt halt.

“Rafe what did you do?” You accused him.

“What did I do? You wouldn’t even let me touch it!” He snapped.

You turned the key in the ignition over and over. The jet ski growled a few times but never started back up. Eventually, you gave up with a frustrated huff.

“I think we’re out of gas,” you conceded.

“Well, did you ask the guy if it was filled before you left?” Rafe questioned.

“Oh, so now this is my fault?” You craned your neck to see him, anger in your eyes.

“No, that’s not-”

“I’m so tired of this, Rafe.”

“We’ve only been out here for like a minute.”

“No, not this,” you motioned toward the water, “this,” you motioned between you and him.

“Oh. Me?” He tried and failed to hide his hurt feelings.

“Not you, just, all this back and forth. One second we’re having a good time and the next you’re pulling away or snapping at me. I have fucking whiplash.”

“Are you sure it’s not just from the jet ski?” He attempted a joke, it only half worked.

“How are we gonna get back?” You redirected the conversation before he could see you were smirking.

“A boat will come by,” he said confidently. “We’ll be fine.”

No boats came by in the following minute, or the following five. You sat in tense silence, your previous words still hanging between you. Your head hurt from the wind and trying to figure this man out.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, almost inaudible. “I know I’m…difficult.”

You turned your neck, not quite far enough to see him, but enough to let him know you were listening, that he should go on.

“I don’t know how to act around you,” he admitted. “One second I feel like I’ve fucked it up so bad that there’s not even a point in trying to fix it and the next…”

This time, you do turn, twisting your torso so you could look him intently in the eyes, imploring him to say something right for once, begging him not to let you fall off this cliff alone again.

“…you look at me like that,” he almost whispered. “And then I think fuck it, I’d try forever if you let me.”

For the first time ever, he was with you on the way down, finally jumping together.

“Can I?” He asked, voice low.

“Can you what?” you blinked at him slowly, the moment so surreal you worried it wasn’t happening, that you’d wake up in Carter’s bed, all of this day just one long fever dream.

“Fix things…with you?”

“I don’t know.”

It was the most honest answer you could give him.

“Can I try?” His voice broke slightly when he said it, and you could feel the vulnerability leaking through the cracks.

“Yeah,” you gave in.

“I miss you,” he breathed, and your heart felt heavy with longing and resentment at the same time.

“I don’t think you ever really knew me, Rafe,” you said, turning to face forward again, sad eyes scanning the horizon. “You never paid close enough attention.”

He thought over your words, and you could feel that there was something brewing in his mind, a decision he was making. When he finally spoke again, it wasn’t the words you expected.

“What’s your favorite color?”

You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face as you said, “huh?”

“Just tell me,” he smiled back, even though you weren’t looking, you could hear it in his voice.

You answered him, and he followed that question up with another, and another, and they kept rolling off his tongue and you kept answering, until the strangeness of it faded and the two of you were just talking.

For over an hour, you drifted, leaning forward on the handlebars with your back to him as Rafe asked you questions and listened intently to your long, detailed answers. You were hesitant, just at first. No one had ever let you talk this long without interrupting you. No one had ever wanted so badly to hear what you had to say. He nodded along to everything, responding with thoughtful mhms and carefully worded follow up questions.

After a while, you forgot about the surrealness of it all, where you were, who you were with. It was just you and your old friend, sharing your lives with each other.

I could do this for a long time, you thought, like maybe forever.

Everytime you thought he must be bored by now, he just kept asking, hanging on every word like he was collecting them for some secret project.

“What do you want to do after you graduate?” and “Who’s your closest friend?” and “Are you still into that one band?” and eventually, when he was running low on ideas, “what’s the last movie you saw?”

You laughed.

“What?” He asked with a timidness that squeezed your heart.

“The last movie I saw was the last movie you saw,” you reminded him.

“Oh, right,” he chuckled, but there was an edge to it.

“It’s a good movie, though,” you leaned back toward him a little, trying to pull him from whatever thoughts were causing his spirit to fall. “My favorite.”

He nodded, “Tom did a nice job putting together that little shindig.”

“I guess so,” you said, not sure how to proceed.

“You know he plays football for U of F?” He said. “Or did I guess, before he graduated.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yeah, he was All American,” he nodded. You’d give all the money you had for one glimpse of what was going on in his head.

“He’s an impressive guy,” he admitted. “I can see why you’d end up in his room.”

“Rafe, oh my god,” you huffed, standing suddenly. Your body rose above him, his eyes tracking every movement. You swung your leg over the seat, flipping around so you were facing him, sitting back down so you could look him in the eyes when you said, “I didn’t sleep in Tom’s room.”

“Oh.”

It was all he could muster up, his throat going dry from both the embarrassment he felt for being wrong and the sudden proximity of your bodies. He willed himself not to let his eyes travel down to the way your lifejacket was pushing your chest together, or the soft skin of your bare thighs, now spread open in front of him as you straddled the seat. He kept his eyes on yours, the most respectful option, though it didn’t help his speechlessness. The uninterrupted contact with your beautiful irises nearly put him over the edge. He almost hoped no boats would come by after all so he could look into your eyes for hours.

“Is that why you got up and left last night?” You questioned, not missing the way his eyes were trained intensely on yours.

“The floor was uncomfortable,” he mumbled.

“The floor,” you nodded, “the floor was uncomfortable. Got it.”

“You're mad at me again,” he surmised.

“When was I ever not mad at you?”

“I dunno,” he shrugged sarcastically, “somewhere between the movie and your panties hitting the floor.”

You wanted to slap him. And kiss him. He could tell, teasing you with a sideways smirk. You tried to channel the newfound confidence you’d had last night, addicted to the taste of power.

You leaned forward, hands on the leather seat between you, looking up at him with hooded eyes.

“Did you like that?”

“You know I did.”

He responded so fast and his voice was so low you couldn’t tell if he was pissed off or turned on. Either way, he wasn’t fucking around anymore.

“Then why didn’t you stay?”

It felt like that one question held so many questions, and based on the look on his face, you knew he could hear it too. You weren’t just asking about last night, you weren’t just asking why he went to sleep on the couch. You were asking about years of him coming up short, why he’d failed you so many times, why he never, ever seemed to pick you.

“I didn’t know you wanted me to.”

As he said it, the wind kicked up, and the jet ski began to rock even harder as waves rose and fell beneath you. One particularly choppy wave had you tilting a little too far off the seat, and Rafe’s hands landed on your waist again. This time, there was nothing hesitant about it. When you didn’t push him away, his thumb brushed an experimental circle into your skin.

“Do you want me to let go?”

In lieu of answering, your hands came to rest over his. He assumed you were gonna pull them off of you, and for a moment you thought you might too, but then his words echoed in your mind: he didn’t know you wanted him to.

You could do this. You could lean into it and just let it happen. You were supposed to fight it, make him grovel more, make him pay you back for the years you’d waited. It’s what everyone expected. You were only a few hundred yards off shore, but the rest of the world felt lightyears away, and out here, there was nothing stopping you letting him touch you, kiss you, have you. You could just let it happen, and no one would have to know.

But before you could decide if you wanted to, a deep rumble of thunder broke out across the sky.

“Shit,” you jumped.

“We gotta get out of here,” Rafe looked up at the darkening sky nervously.

“But how?”

“How well can you swim?”

That’s how Rafe ended up in the water, gripping the back of the jet ski as the waves rocked it harshly, water splashing up and landing on your feet. You tightened your lifejacket, feeling apprehensive about the whole thing.

“I can just push us if you want to stay on,” Rafe offered.

“No, it’ll go faster if it’s both of us.”

You stepped to the edge, hesitating, wanting to rip the bandaid and just jump in but not wanting to jump too far off and get separated. Your indecision cost you, your foot slipped and you dropped into the water, your leg scraping against the edge of the jet ski as you fell.

Blinded by pain, you reached for Rafe as your head slipped under the surface, but your hands came up empty.

(Chapter 6: part one)

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a/n: please note, the taglist for this series is currently closed. For updates, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs 💕

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sknyuz · 25 days ago

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sunshine under the weather | l.s.m.

synopsis — when seokmin’s on his “deathbed,” you don’t hesitate. you show up with soup, medicine, and his favorite vitamin jellies. he whines, clings, and insists he’s dying. you roll your eyes and stay anyway.

pairing — lee seokmin (dk) x reader

genre — friends-to-lovers, comfort, fluff, confessionals, soft moments, sick!seokmin, mutual pining, emotional intimacy, lowkey domestic vibes

warnings — none, really... mentions of illnes and skinship

word count — ~2.1k

a/n — doing my first request on here from @seokminfilm !! i hope u enjoy <3 and i hope i did dk’s bright demeanor justice despite him being sick in this one TT enjoy <3

you don’t even knock when you arrive. seokmin gave you the spare key months ago, claiming it was “just in case,” but judging by the way he sounds over the phone—groggy, dramatic, and insistent that he’s “definitely on his deathbed”—this qualifies as an emergency.

“seokmin?” you call out, kicking off your shoes and juggling a tote bag full of supplies: water bottles, medicine, soup, and those vitamin jelly things he weirdly loves.

a faint groan echoes from the couch. “i’m here... barely.”

you find him bundled in a mountain of blankets, only the top of his messy hair and the tip of his nose visible. his cheeks are flushed, his eyes glassy, and there’s a tissue tragically hanging off his pinky finger like he got distracted mid-sneeze and gave up.

“you look like a burrito that’s seen better days,” you say gently, dropping your things on the coffee table.

“you’re lucky i’m too weak to fight back,” he mumbles, voice scratchy but still full of unnecessary sass. “is this... is this my final form?”

“you’re so dramatic,” you reply, already kneeling beside him to press the back of your hand to his forehead. he leans into your touch like a sunflower to sunlight. “yep. you’re burning up.”

he pouts, “told you. i’m dying.” groaning dramatically.

“you have a fever, not the plague.”

he tries to muster a whiny comeback but it’s lost in a cough that has him curling deeper into the blankets. you sigh and start unpacking your bag.

“we need to get you to bed.”

“but the couch is my kingdom now.”

“the couch smells like cough drops and sadness.”

he snorts. “you’re mean to a sick man.”

“and yet, here i am. come on.” you tug at the blanket. “up.”

it takes far too long, with plenty of exaggerated groans and muttered complaints (“you’re stronger than me. just carry me.” “i’m literally trying.”), but you finally manage to get him to his feet. sort of. he slumps against you dramatically, all long limbs and no coordination.

“wow,” you grunt. “you’re heavy.”

“muscle,” he whispers. “pure muscle.”

“you’re a noodle right now.”

he whines at this, flailing his arms as you steady yourself, “okay, now let’s get you to bed,” you say, guiding him slowly down the hallway. each step seems to drain him more, his grip on your arm growing slightly firmer with every passing second. when you finally manage to get him settled in bed, you start pulling the blankets over him.

he’s barely awake, eyes half-lidded, a slight pout on his lips. “i’m comfy... i’ll be fine, y/n.” he mumbles, not sounding very convincing at all.

“you’re feverish, seokmin. you need to cool down.” you brush his hair out of his face. “wait right here. i’ll get a towel with some ice water to help bring your temperature down.” just as you were standing up, he shifts in the bed, his hand weakly reaching out toward you as if he’s not quite ready to let you go. “don’t leave me…” his voice is barely audible, thick with sleep, but there's an almost desperate note to it.

you freeze, turning back to look at him, his big eyes peeking up at you from under his half-closed lashes. his hand is resting limply on the edge of the bed, as if reaching out to you, but it feels soft—fragile, even. you can’t help but pause, heart softening.

"i’m not going anywhere," you reply, moving back toward him. you brush a thumb across his hand, giving him a reassuring smile. “just need to grab a towel, okay?”

he closes his eyes for a second, letting out a little sigh. “stay close…” he murmurs, but there’s a trace of vulnerability in his voice now that he’s too tired to mask it.

you nod, your hand gently cupping his cheek. “i’m right here.”

when you finally leave to grab the towel, you can still hear his weak little hum of protest, but you know he’ll be okay. after all, you’re not going anywhere.

you quickly grab a basin, fill it with cold water and ice from the freezer, then rush back to seokmin’s side. when you re-enter the room, he’s curled up under the covers, his face flushed, cheeks burning with fever. his eyes are closed, but the slow, shallow rise and fall of his chest tells you he’s still awake—still fighting it.

you sit down beside him, carefully lifting his head just enough to slip a towel over his forehead. the second the cold hits his skin, he flinches.

“ah… cold!” he whines, scrunching his nose, his body curling in tighter as if he could escape the chill.

“sorry, i know,” you whisper, smoothing the towel over his forehead, trying to make it more bearable. he looks so fragile like this. not the usual sunshine you’re used to. and it does something to your heart—this version of him, all quiet and needy and not hiding how he feels.

“hold still for me, okay? just a little,” you murmur, fingers brushing his damp hair back gently. seokmin seems to melt back into the pillow, letting out a sigh, still shivering slightly from the cold.

“minnie…” the old nickname slips out before you even realize it, soft and natural, like it’s always been there. “you’re okay. you’re going to feel better soon.”

his eyes blink open, slow and glassy with fever. they search your face, and a tiny, tired smile tugs at his lips. his hand reaches up, rests gently over yours.

“minnie…” he repeats, his voice nothing more than a breath. “that’s... you haven’t called me that since highschool...”

you laugh quietly, heart twisting at the way he says the childish nickname, yet it holds an affectionate ring to it. it makes you want to stay like this forever. to keep him safe. to be the warmth he always is to everyone else.

you trail your fingers along his jaw, soft and comforting. “you’re adorable, you know that?” you whisper. and it’s not just teasing. not this time. there’s something tender in it, something honest.

his eyes flutter, and he lets out a soft yawn. “minnie…” he murmurs and repests the nickname in his tongue again, a little dazed now, and you press the towel to his skin once more.

you chuckle, heart warming at the way he says it, even though he’s still weak and feverish. it makes you realize how much you want to take care of him, how much you want to be there for him—always. maybe he’s always been your sunshine, but today, it feels like he’s the one who needs the warmth.

you brush his cheek gently, your thumb tracing the soft line of his jaw. “you’re adorable, you know that?” you say, your tone light, but there's a softness to it now that wasn’t there before. He’s not just the energetic seokmin now. he’s someone you want to protect, someone who, even in his most vulnerable state, makes you want to take care of him even more.

you don’t leave. you can’t. not when he looks so small in this bed, not when his fingers curl weakly around yours like he doesn’t want you to go.

seokmin’s eyes flutter open suddenly, and for a moment, he’s disoriented. he blinks a few times, trying to adjust to the dim light in the room, and then he sees you—still by his side, sitting right next to him, with your hair messy from the long day. the soft glow from the bedside lamp outlines your face, and his heart does this soft little skip when he notices how you look, a little worn out, but still there.

he can’t help it. he reaches out and gently brushes the strands of hair from your face, his touch tender. you stir, groaning slightly as you shift, but don’t quite wake up.

his hand lifts slowly, brushing a few strands from your face. his touch is gentle, reverent.

“y/n?” his voice is hoarse.

you blink, rubbing your eyes, clearly still half-asleep. “mmm… you up?” you murmur, not fully aware yet. “how do you feel?”

seokmin doesn’t answer immediately. his eyes linger on you, on how you’re still so worried about him despite how exhausted you must be. how you’re always looking out for him, even when you’re drained yourself. he smiles softly, but it’s gentle, sincere.

“i should be asking you that,” he says, and it’s laced with that soft, familiar concern that always makes your heart ache. you sneeze, a tiny, tired sound, and his face shifts immediately into a pout.

“ah… y/n...” he whines, leaning forward to grab your shoulders gently, pulling you toward him. “c’mere…” he murmurs, voice soft but insistent, and before you can react, he’s pulling you into his arms, tucking you against his chest.

you don’t fight it. you let yourself be drawn in, let him wrap his arms around you like it’s the most natural thing in the world. like it’s where you belong.

he tucks the blanket over both of you, his palm resting between your shoulder blades as he rubs slow, soothing circles.

you melt into him, your ear pressed against his chest, listening to the soft, steady beat of his heart.

you’re quiet for a moment, content in his arms, but there’s something bubbling up inside of him. a feeling he’s been trying to ignore for a while now. his heart beats a little faster, and he can’t quite shake the urge to say what’s been on his mind for longer than he’d like to admit.

“y/n,” he whispers. you tilt your head up, eyes meeting his. his hand cradles your cheek, thumb brushing lightly along your skin.

“i’m not going anywhere, okay?” his voice is steady, quiet but full of something that makes your breath catch. “i know you always take care of me… but this time, i want to take care of you.”

he pauses, swallows.

“and i wouldn’t want it any other way,” he says with a shy grin, like he’s trying to play it off—but the look in his bright, big eyes is serious. “you’re my best friend, yeah. but… i don’t want to be just your friend anymore. i want to be by your side… for real. not only as your ‘sunshine,’ or your study buddy. just as me, lee seokmin. and you.”

your heart stutters. everything goes still.

he’s never looked at you like this before. or maybe he has, and you just never let yourself notice.

you open your mouth, but he’s already speaking again.

“i don’t know when it happened. i just… i’ve always wanted more. i think i’ve always wanted you.”

his confession lingers in the air, warm and honest.

you stare at him, and suddenly all the lingering touches and late-night calls and “accidental” cuddles on movie nights hit you like a wave. it’s always been there. it’s always been him.

you lift your hand, press it gently to his cheek, your thumb brushing over the curve of his jaw.

“i’m not going anywhere either, seokmin,” you whisper. “i think i’ve always known… i wanted you, too.”

his smile stretches wide, eyes crinkling at the corners as he pulls you in tighter, like he’s afraid you might disappear.

“good,” he breathes. “because i don’t think i could ever let you go.” seokmin whines, practically squeezing you in his arms.

you giggle at this, sighing happily, soft and breathless, as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

and in that quiet, under the soft hum of the heater and the fading ice in the basin, something shifts. something clicks into place—

he’s your sunshine. and you’re finally ready to be his, too.

a/n: ahh !! i learned how to make gradient colors on text~ thank u for requesting a fic, it means so much to me and pushes me to write even more. would appreciate a follow and more requests like this. thank u guys sm <3 the taglist for my upcoming mingyu fic is still open !!

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notjustjavierpena · 1 month ago

Note

Hello, i hope this isn’t too much but i really admire your courage to write the hard stuff that goes on between javi and his wife. would you ever write something about the struggles they had about conceiving lucas?

Crazy

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Hiya, anon! This was such a rollercoaster to write but thanks so much for giving me the needed push. Also tysm for the compliment 🥺

Summary: Thoughts of infertility take a toll on you and Javier's marriage.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: Infertility, arguments, apologies, hurt/comfort, angst, emotional sex, lots of kissing, pussy eating, piv sex, mating press, creampie, pillowtalk, aftercare

Word count: 6k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64569853

Crazy

You can’t help but count the months. Seven long ones with still no baby growing in your belly. Seven and counting since you went off your birth control, a ridiculous thought that leaves a bitter taste in your mouth since it turned out that you hadn’t needed it anyway in the first place. Okay, maybe you had but it is your exhaustion talking, whispering it in your ear.

You remember the conversation that Javier and you had in the kitchen that one time a while back, where he promised you that if everything else failed, you would let Steve and Connie set an example and find your own Olivia. Yet neither of you has dared go into the discussion of exactly when it’s time to stop trying, or if you’d truly be ready to adopt.

However, now as you anxiously pace around the kitchen, waiting for Javier to come home and cleaning off stains that aren’t actually there from yesterday’s dishes, you wonder if you should call Connie to hear her opinion.

You stop halfway to the landline to stare at the calendar on the door to the refrigerator. The red circle around today’s date mocks you and you lift your hand up to flip it off, giving it a roll of your eyes now that you’re at it. Seven fucking months of anxiously charting your cycles, tracking ovulation windows, and feeling hope slip away with each negative test.

What if it never happens at all? Connie hadn’t seemed to entertain your worry the last time you brought it up, had shaken her head with a smile you wanted to wipe off her face, and pulled out her authority as a nurse to reassure you. There’s still plenty of time before you need to start worrying, she keeps saying, and it feels like it is the only reason you are still taking vitamins, avoiding caffeine, and doing your exercises.

You’ve reached the phone now, your hand hovering over it in midair. It would be so easy to ring Connie right now and tell her every worry that is constantly going around in your head, every frustration of being in a battle with forcibly loving your body when it isn’t working the way it should. But then you think of Javier and decide against it, convinced by the guilt that nags at you. It feels like a betrayal to begin that particular and very tough conversation with anyone else but him.

You stand there for a moment longer, staring at the phone, silently hoping it will ring and Connie will be on the other end of the line. It would make it easier to justify running your mouth to her.

“Don’t look at me, it just happened,” you would say and still know it wasn’t okay.

Keys being inserted into the front door and the handle rattling makes you tense up in nervous anticipation. Javier is home from work. This is the day you’ve been waiting for a whole month, the one you’ve rearranged your entire schedule around and taken off work because if there’s any chance of being a mom, it has to be now.

“Baby?” He calls when he’s inside the house. You can hear the thud of his bag hitting the floor and the sound of his footsteps going towards the living room.

“I’m here,” you answer through the house. You peek into the living room and see him shrug out of his suit jacket, draping it over the back of the couch and letting himself fall into the cushions with a contented sigh. You know you’re supposed to go in there and spoil his relief.

“Come in here,” he says and taps his fingers on his knees, eyes soft from hoping to see you materialize in the doorway. He always tells you he misses you at his job.

Carefully, you enter the room and approach him with urgency in your body. You have a single mission today and it is a delicate matter.

Get pregnant.

Getpregnantgetpregnantgetpregnant.

Get fucking pregnant.

“Hey,” he says with a tired smile when you stand right in front of him, glad to see you. He holds out his hand for you to take. You don’t reach for it and his smile fades.

“We should have sex,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, staring down at him as he reaches for his tie instead.

“Baby, I just walked in. I just sat down,” he says softly and tugs at the knot on his tie, pulling it loose with a small noise. There’s an underlying emotion to his voice, a hint of frustration to his tone even if he doesn’t want to upset you.

Your focus, your tunnel vision, makes you ignore his complaint as if it isn’t a ticking bomb right between your hands, “If I’ve calculated right, it’s been twelve hours since we last had sex, Javi. I’ve read that it’s a good idea to—“

“We have sex all the time, baby. Three times yesterday. Once at night. We fuck a lot,” he reaches up to run both hands over his face, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands afterward. He does a quick inhale and then sighs.

“Yes, but we have to do it today too to be sure. Connie said that—“ you quickly argue but his jaw muscles flex as you talk. Javier pushes himself to stand with exasperation in his next breath.

He pushes past you as if he cannot take being in your presence for a second longer despite just having arrived home, doesn’t even look at you as he throws back a sarcastic comment, “Oh, Connie said? Really? Wow, you really know how to turn me on.”

“That’s not funny. Hey, come back here,” you say as he starts walking towards the kitchen instead, leaving you with your mouth a thin line. You follow him but don’t go any further than standing in the door, “I’m the only one who initiates sex lately. What if my ovulation is peaking right now? The day is over soon.”

He leans against the kitchen counter, reaching back to grip the edge of the table, “The day isn’t over yet. It’s five in the afternoon. I just got home. We can have sex tonight.”

You finally step fully into the kitchen now and it feels almost like you have crossed enemy lines. You can feel your tears build inside of your chest, crawling steadily up into your throat till they burn but you don’t allow yourself to cry. Why doesn’t he understand the pain of losing another month to grief? Why is it not as important to him? You look desperate, “Connie said it’s best during the day.”

“Stop,” he suddenly commands, causing you to flinch. He looks angry at you, unable to register the impact of the tone of his voice because of his own state of mind but it makes you tremble. He is never this way, “I can’t fucking take another fucking word about eggs and sperm and fertile windows. It’s too much now. You’re being crazy.”

Something breaks inside of you at those words, a beast that’s been hidden inside a cage in your chest threatening to escape and go for the kill. You watch him carelessly turn away to open the fridge, detachment on his face as if he has just argued with you about what you’re having for dinner. He leaves you feeling in complete disbelief and disarray, your heart ticking like a bomb. You need out right now or you might suffocate in the large, childless space that you moved into with the idea that you would be a family of three soon.

You leave the room with your heartbeat pounding in your ears. The walls feel like they are closing in on you, close to trapping you here in this feeling forever if you don’t hurry up and reach the front door quickly.

You slam the door behind you, no shoes on your feet, and then suddenly you are close to running down the street, breathing harder and harder while your arms swing along your sides in your haste.

He has never called you crazy before. The word feels like he has just spat in your face, wrapped you in barbed wire, as if he sees you as just one more woman suffering from hysteria. Dismissible and unserious. Crazy. You swear you can feel all of the women before you right behind you, giving you the wind in your back to run faster than ever even with no destination. You don’t even feel your feet hurt from being bare against the harsh ground.

However, you are barely a few blocks away from your home when you hear Javier’s voice calling out your name with the same desperation that you have felt since the first negative pregnancy test.

The second you hear him, you automatically start running faster, determined to escape something you can’t quite pinpoint what is, but it only lasts a few seconds. Eventually, you finally slow down. Not because you want him to catch you but because your chest is heaving and your eyes are burning with tears, blurring your vision and disorienting you.

He grabs your arm firmly when he reaches you and tries to pull you into an embrace. You resist at first, stiffening against him as he wraps you in his arms.

“Stop!” You sob violently but he doesn’t let go even when you start crying loud enough to attract attention. Instead, he tightens his grip around you to calm your nervous system. How odd it is to want comfort from the man who also made you cry.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” he says repeatedly, his cheek against yours while you try to hit his chest. You can hear the regret in his voice but your pride makes you unwilling to soften.

You struggle further, almost like a panicked animal, wanting to kick and scream to escape a trap, but the fight is going out of your body quickly, gripped by exhaustion and making you sag. Another sob rips itself from your throat, “If I’m so crazy then there’s no reason we should be together let alone have a baby.”

When you’re less resistant, he cradles your head in his hand to make you look at him, “I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean any of it. You’re not crazy. Dios, soy un pendejo (God, I’m an idiot). I’m so sorry, mi amor (my love).”

You sink to your knees but he catches you before they hit the sidewalk.

“I’m not crazy,” you insist weakly as you slump into his embrace.

“You’re not crazy,” he confirms quietly, “I’d take that back if I could.”

“It’s okay. I’m sorry too… You were frustrated and tired,” you sniffle and your bottom lip trembles, “I shouldn’t have pushed you the second you walked through the door. I’m just worried that we have to wait a whole month before we can try again because we’re too lazy to have sex. And I hate that it is ruining our sex life because I love having sex with you.”

Javier says your name but it’s clear that it has caught him off guard.

You pull back to look up at his face. His brown eyes are soft and full of apologies, like the impact of his words only hits him now, “Now I’m scared that this is all responsible for you not finding me sexy anymore. I know it’s stupid but what if I’m the reason why we never get there? What if all this pressure makes you stop wanting me? What if I–”

“Now that’s crazy,” he says in an attempt to smooth things over with a joke but that one crease in his forehead, the one that he gets when frustration hits, is back because it doesn’t work.

You compose yourself enough to step back and give him a warning look, a look that says don’t you dare say that word again. He holds his hands up in surrender and then just reaches for your wrist, tugs it until he can entwine your fingers.

“What?” You’re the one to bite now, "I'm serious. I don’t want to lose you in this."

"You're not going to lose me,” he groans in exasperation. A few heads have popped up in the windows of the houses surrounding you.

“Then why aren’t you upset like I am?” You ask harshly and pull your hand away to hug yourself. You avoid his gaze.

Javier looks at you as if you’ve cracked him wide open right there on the sidewalk. He furrows his brows, opening his mouth without any words coming out. He turns away then, needs to gather himself without staring at your face.

You know immediately that you have crossed a line, that you have hit a nerve that wasn’t supposed to be as exposed as it suddenly is.

“Javi,” you murmur shamefully.

“Is that what you think?” He turns back to you, the look in his eyes frantic and desperate. He also looks furious but for some reason, you can tell it isn’t directed at you, “That— That I’m not scared or upset enough? I’m terrified all the fucking time but if I let myself be as scared as you are, I’d be fucking useless to you.”

The realization hits you like an oncoming train, making tears start falling from your eyes again. You don’t know why it hadn’t occurred to you. Javier feels the exact same way as you but he simply hides it better.

You want to say something but he beats you to it, pointing at you to stress his point, his chest heaving, “And for the record. There’s no fucking universe where I stop wanting you.”

You don’t know what to say, so you do the next best thing and show him. You reach to cup his face, your thumbs stroking along his cheekbones, and then you kiss his lips.

He sighs against your mouth, his broad palms finding your waist and tugging you as close as possible until he can wrap you in the harbor of his arms. Then he kisses you deeper, several times too, each brush of his lips releasing more of the tension between you.

You’re here. In the same boat. And you love each other so much. That should be enough, even when it doesn’t feel like it is.

When the kiss is over, you don’t draw away from each other. Instead, he pulls you into a tight hug, holding you protectively close to his chest and stroking the back of your head. You link your arms around him, clinging tightly to him with a few tears staining his shirt because you have hurt each other so much.

“I want to go home,” you murmur softly into his shoulder while he strokes your hair, “Por favor (please).”

“Okay,” he answers just as gently, placing a kiss on your forehead before drawing back, “We’ll go home.”

You walk home side by side, no words spoken between you. The tension is still there, sizzling in the air but it is charged with something else too. You almost feel like a teenager again, back when you were too scared to speak to the person you’ve decided late at night that you’d go through fire for.

The first block is spent with your hands brushing as they hang by your sides and the both of you holding your breath when it happens but then Javier laces your fingers together and a quiet understanding settles over you.

When you enter the front door together, none of you even glance in the direction of the kitchen or the living room. There's no hurry to move on from the storm of intense emotions that you have just been through, no hurry to busy yourself with anything that’ll simply push it down or bottle it up.

The only urgency now is that storm, your hearts tense but only with the need to reassure each other. His mouth finds yours again, his body pushes you against the wall and the intensity behind his kiss grows from how he had kissed you in the street. Your lips meet in a kiss so deep that Javier coaxes a moan from your mouth.

For once in all of this, you’re not scared of the outcome of being together, entwined. The need to conceive a child with your husband is still very much there but right now, it is overshadowed by a need to connect fully, to lick each other’s wounds even if you caused them.

You reach to untie the knot on his tie completely. He hesitates for just a breath, a hand on your wrist to gain your attention.

“Are you sure?” He asks despite how you still pull the tie out from underneath his collar.

“Yes,” you don’t hesitate a second and drop the tie on the floor, desire ignited in your belly, “I’m so sure. I want you.”

He lets out a shaky breath with a smile, nodding his head while you move in to kiss his throat where his pulse thrums. His eyes close at the contact, his head tilting back just a little until a soft moan escapes his mouth. Your body grows warm from hearing it and you take it as a cue to move in silence, sharing searing kisses all the way to the bedroom.

When you get there, Javier closes the door behind you and turns the lock, not because there’s any chance that you will be disturbed but just to keep the outside world at bay for a little while. It feels more intimate like that, like you are the only two people in the world.

You stand by the end of the bed, watching him do it and feeling your heart pounding in your chest from anticipation. You smile softly when he approaches you, too afraid that words might mess up the way that air crackles with intimacy and tenderness.

He reaches out first as if promising to take the lead of you, curling his fingers around the edge of your top to lift it up. You raise your arms in the air to let him peel it over your head, goosebumps erupting on your skin where his knuckles brush you. He drops your top on the floor.

You finally reciprocate by moving to undo the buttons of his white shirt. Your hands tremble slightly as you do it but Javier is patient, just reaches to gently steady your wrist by holding it.

When you have reached the last one, he takes over and shrugs the fabric off his shoulders to reveal his warm and safe chest. You step closer, hands finding his shoulders as you lean in to kiss along his collarbone. He takes the opportunity to unclasp your bra while you’re at it, a palm skimming up your back while the other rests at your waist.

When your breasts are bare, your nipples have hardened at the sudden exposure to the colder temperature. He undoes his belt and jeans, and when he bends slightly to take them off along with his boxers, he presses a tender kiss right over a nipple and skims his nose and lips across your chest to do the same thing with the other.

You moan softly. He grabs around your waist and helps lowering you down onto the bed. You sit on the edge but not for long, moving back until you can lay down spread out. He follows you like a magnet, ends up kneeling between your legs so he can undo and yank down your pants.

You help kick them off and then bend your knees briefly to let him drag your underwear down too. His mouth is everywhere he can reach; your ankles, your calves, knees, and thighs.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs softly on his way down your inner thigh, breaking the silence, and while he says those words a lot, there’s something different behind them today. It is almost like he is telling you something else; you’re not broken, not defined in your femininity by your body’s ability to carry his child.

You hold tears at bay and run your hand over his hair, looking down at the top of his head as his face disappears down between your thighs. Your mouth falls open in a soft gasp when he first mouths along your cunt.

“Javi,” you sigh a moment later, your head knocking back into the bed so you can look up at the ceiling while focusing on the velvety feeling of his mouth.

He eats you slowly, the flat of his tongue gently moving over your clit until you can’t help each sigh and moan that falls from your lips. His fingers spread your cunt open, his other hand squeezing your thigh as he pulls your legs further apart to dive in.

“Please,” you hear yourself say. It’s the moment you realize how long it has been since you last were together like this; he hasn’t gone down on you for months because it doesn’t make a baby. The room is quiet except for your labored breaths and the filthy wet sounds of his mouth teasing you towards the edge. It feels so good to be wanted like this, reassured of how sexy you are without all the pressure to procreate.

Hearing that soft plea makes Javier wrap his lips around your clit to kiss it repeatedly. He moans into you when your legs start to tremble in his peripheral vision. He switches it up and sucks. It makes you whimper, your back arching off the bed as he worships you between your thighs.

You are sure that he’ll pull away when you lift your pelvis up to meet his mouth further, but he doesn’t stop. Instead, he just slides the hand on your thigh down under the small of your back to hold you there, then breathes heavily through his nose and hungrily continues to make you inch closer to the edge.

Like always, he can hear your orgasm knocking by the way you begin to hold your breath between small gasps of pleasure. He intensifies the pressure and the precision just so, and you slide both hands through his hair - something he has clearly been waiting for with the way he groans - while your toes start to curl.

When you actually come, it drags a sinful groan out of the both of you. Your thighs lock around his head and you pull at his hair. It’s not pretty and polite. It’s pure release, and it is ripped out of you like it has been buried under your prickly skin, underneath heartbreak, forever.

You say his name until it makes no sense anymore, swallowing down desperate gulps of air. He lets you ride it out on his tongue, making sure to tease out every little aftershock before releasing you from his grasp. Yes, you needed this but it is almost like he needed it more.

“You don’t know what it does to me,” he breathes heavily while you come down. He trails off and rests his forehead against your thigh, “You don’t fucking know what it does to me… when you look at me like you did earlier… Like you’re done.”

“I’m not,” you whisper in reply, voice shaky with tears that have finally found release. You cry softly, “I’m not done. Never done.”

“Don’t cry, baby,” he looks up at you with those brown eyes that are so hard to resist because of the silent plead within them. It hurts your chest to watch him so full of remorse, hurts to be loved this much.

“Come here,” you whisper softly and hold your arms open for him but he wants to take it slow.

He kisses his way up your body instead - a kiss to your hip, your belly, one right beneath your ribs - and you use the opportunity to slide your fingers through his hair. His mustache is slick with you, scratching just slightly as he treats you like you might not be in his bed tomorrow.

But while he wants to savor you, you feel the growing impatience within your chest. You need him closer, your hands going repeatedly from his hair to his shoulders and then to his back because you are unsure of where to touch him when you want all of him.

When he has his knees between your thighs again, he doesn’t crush you with his weight. Instead, he hovers above, eyes roaming over your face to check if you’re still letting him have you. In response, you settle on cupping his face. He automatically turns his face to press a longing kiss into the palm of your hand.

You pull him to your mouth in a kiss that steals his breath away, his hand cupping the side of your neck. You kiss him like you should have done the moment he came in through the door and he meets your mouth like he needs to feel forgiveness in his very bones. Maybe a kiss like this would have avoided the pain that you inflicted upon each other. You cry in his arms. He wipes tears away with his thumbs and doesn’t rush you.

Eventually, you are panting from the intensity of what feels like one of the deepest kisses of your life. Your lips are swollen and sensitive, and his cock is hard against your thigh to the point where you think he must be aching. The occasional kiss to your throat makes your whole body tingle with want, your cunt fluttering in interest. The pressing issue, however, is that you need to put all of these feelings somewhere.

“Fuck me,” you whisper with your fingers in his hair, breathing hard against his mouth, “Please, baby. I need you inside of me.”

Javier swears quietly under his breath as if he has been waiting for those words, nodding repeatedly with his stare fixed on your lips before giving you another desperate kiss.

He reluctantly pulls away, your hands slipping out of his dark locks, to sit back on his knees. You let your palms lay flat on the sheets and stare up at him, his face full of determination while he slides his hands around the back of your knees.

At first, you think he wants to drag you down on the bed and closer to himself but then he lifts your legs and you gasp because you immediately know what he is doing with you. He pushes until your thighs are pressed against your chest, your cunt on full display and at his mercy.

He doesn’t speak as he moves over you again, not stopping until his chest brushes the back of your thighs and your ankles are resting on his broad shoulders. He folds you even further in when he leans down to kiss your throat, the soft sound that escapes you vibrating underneath his lips.

You grip the sheets and hold on for dear life as he enters you slowly, giving you the full length of his cock inch by inch. He holds your gaze as he bottoms out and it makes you so aware of everything he does to you. There's no space between you now. Not physically. Not emotionally. He looks at you as if telling you that you and he belong together, like he is ready to rewrite the last seven months of your sex life.

You can’t speak, can’t even think because you’re still trembling and sensitive. The stretch of his cock is almost too much inside of you but he is gentle with you, letting you adjust while kissing his way to your mouth again.

“I love you,” he murmurs against your lips.

You nod as if to reciprocate and then whimper as another tear escapes, “I love you. I missed you.”

“I know, I missed you too,” he whispers and gently kisses away the salty tear.

The ache of need catches up to you as you get used to feeling him inside of your cunt so fully, the thick head of his cock resting against the spot where you need him the most. An impatient flutter of your walls makes him give in and move inside of you.

You moan feebly while he takes you slowly and full of precision. The angle of this position has you breathless in seconds, your back arching with each stroke against your g-spot. Your moans mix together with the sound of skin slapping against skin in the otherwise quiet room. You hold onto his biceps, feeling the muscles of his arms flex beneath your touch as he strains his body to give you everything he has.

“I’ve got it now, mi amor (my love)” he lets you know through ragged breaths, resting his forehead against yours, “You don’t have to start it anymore. No need to ask.”

“Don’t stop. Javi— oh, don’t stop,” you plead him with a steady stream of teardrops falling from your eyes. They roll down into your hair faster than he can kiss them away but it doesn’t matter, you think to yourself, because you want him to see what he does to you; that his words move you, that you needed to hear them because you’re exhausted and fuck, he loves you so much.

“Shh, don’t cry, baby, you’re okay,” he coos with another soft kiss to follow. You turn your head afterward to press your face into the side of his head, brows furrowing as the first hints of your climax being within reach show.

He barely pulls out anymore, just grinds down into your cunt and hits the right spot repeatedly. There’s no talking either. Instead, just the sound of your sweat-slicked bodies moving together, your breath hitching in your throat as your belly tightens even more, and his growls every time your cunt squeezes around him.

“You feel so fucking good, baby. You’re making me come,” he grits out, sweat gathering on his brow and concentration all over his face.

“I’m close,” you gasp with your thighs starting to tremble from how intense it is going to be. You let your head bump into the mattress, your spine arching in a bow as it creeps up on you and your breathing begins to stutter.

You come with a silent cry towards the ceiling because all air is knocked out of you. It takes a few moments before noise catches up to you but when it does, you absolutely sob underneath the weight of his body. The intensity makes you clamp down on his cock, your walls going into rhythmic squeezes that make Javier hiss and his pace falter from how you milk him.

“I’m coming,” he near-whimpers before going off into a satisfied groan while his hips stutter, “Fuck, baby. You’re— I’m coming.”

He buries himself to the hilt before spilling inside of your wet, oversensitive heat. You gasp at the feeling of it, the weight of it settling inside of you. He trembles above you, enough for you to slide your hands up to his shoulders and cup his face.

He holds himself up with one hand and holds one of yours with the other, breathing rapidly. His chest is broad and glistening with sweat, warm and nearly suffocating but he is yours. You want it like that, want to drown in the intimacy that you feel.

Without a word, he straightens and pulls out his softening cock. It makes you tense up, looking down where you have been connected with worry on your face. You don’t want it to slip, to not work this time either, but he guides your legs together and then shifts slightly on the mattress. He lays them gently on one shoulder, making sure that no drop spills from you.

“I’ve got you,” he coos, almost shushing you like a child. His arms cradle your legs, “Don’t worry.”

You can do nothing but whimper. He rubs your belly with his free hand and you place your palm on top of it, an unconscious gesture of hope between you.

“This is the most important thing,” he says after weighing his words for a moment, “You and I.”

“Javi,” you protest but there’s no exasperation building up beneath the surface this time. He shakes his head to stop any words at the tip of your tongue.

“I will give you anything you want. A house, a baby, anything you want,” he tells you, whispering it as if there are other people in the room besides the two of you and he wants privacy. It feels safer to hear him lower his voice, “But not if it costs me you. We are not meant to fight like that.”

Your bottom lip trembles because he is right. You’re not meant to fight like that at all, chests heaving with adrenaline and bloodlust from grief over the fact that something is getting the better of you. It feels as unnatural as snow in August and rivers running dry.

“I want to give you a baby,” you say quietly and feel a tear slide down your cheek. Javier reaches to brush it away with his index finger, shushing you once more with the gentleness in him only reserved for you.

“And you will,” he promises and cups your cheek afterward, his thumb stroking your face where another tear has fallen, “It’ll happen. This way or another.”

Your eyes flutter closed. You nod.

“Do you know how much I love you?” He asks and lets his mouth graze the side of your ankle.

“I love you too,” you say back without much thought that he is actually asking a question.

“Yes, but do you know how much? Look at me,” he waits for a moment.

Your gaze locks onto him, your eyes big and teary.

“I don’t think you know how lucky I am to have you in my life after all the stupid shit I’ve done back in Colombia. I hurt people. I watched people die. No wonder I wasn’t all here when I came back. I thought I was just gonna float through the rest of my life being angry or drifting in some bar like a ghost. You were the first thing that felt like… like the world could be soft again. And now you think I could ever stop wanting you?” He shakes his head in disbelief, “You’re the only place I’ve ever felt like I could put my feet down and not run. When everything starts to weigh down on me, you breathe life back into me. Whatever happens next, I want it with you, okay?”

You cry with your heart feeling too big for your chest, words lost on you because how can he still love you when this takes such a toll on you that it brings out the worst in you? Probably just how you can love him just the same too.

You sniffle, “Yes, me too.”

He looks serious and soft, “Even if it’s not how we imagined. Even if we gotta go knock on Connie’s door and ask for the number of that adoption agency… or do IVF… or whatever the hell else it takes.”

You nod. When you speak, it is nothing but a squeak, “Yes.”

“But right now,” he caresses the skin of your calf and murmurs into another kiss to your ankle, “I just wanna stay here. In this bed. With my wife… and let the world wait a little while longer. Can we do that?”

“Can I get my legs down, so we can cuddle?” You shift a little, still slick between your thighs and sore in the best way, but there’s no rush to clean up or face anything other than the rise and fall of his chest against yours.

He smiles, “Of course. Lift your legs, I’ve got you.”

He does. He always does.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

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ubeb0nes · 4 months ago

Text

Sevika x Fem!Bar Owner!Reader - The One Who Pours the Drinks

Pt. 3 (can be read as standalone)

༇ ༇ ༇

Summary: After their (very homosexually-charged) estrangement a few weeks ago, Angel tries to bury the sour Sevika left in her heart. Sevika does the same, dismissing any meaning to be found in how she still makes sure to walk by the Five-Copper Furnace at least twice a week.

But one thing remains true: No one threatens the one who pours the drinks.

a/n: i'm a dirty filthy liar, i finished pt. 3 for bar owner reader before i even started my warmup for writing sevika's character LMFAO. will still do that prompt at some point!!

w/c: like 4.3k ish

༇ ༇ ༇

The world doesn’t stop spinning because of one person.

It’s a sentiment you were forced to be fond of in your life before the one you had now. People had always come and gone, it was the nature of the crime life, and it was certainly the nature of the Zaun one too. To stop and mourn for too long was to die.

And you had a business to run.

You did your best to count your lucky stars every night, reminding yourself as you wiped down the bar that there were other people. Plenty of women with smokey laughs and eyes like the moon. You were a good-looking bastard, you’d find the next one. You had all the time in the world now, away from the strife that used to follow you like a shadow.

Pay no mind to how you always swiped harder at the bar as you had these thoughts, slamming tumblers and plates into their places beneath the bar with extra vigor. Nor to how Zaun was about as different from Bilgewater as steel to iron.

Sevika’s men and their presence started to dwindle with hers, albeit more slowly; many of them almost seemed hesitant, apologetic. You caught one of them on your way into the bar to open it for the evening.

“I’m real sorry, Angel,” he’d said.

“I’m sure she’s got other work for you,” you said, waving him off as if it was- and indeed, it was- nothing personal. You only had problems with one ex-frequent of your bar. You weren’t even all that inclined to include the heavy muscle she brought in with her on the last visit.

“Always other work where the boss is concerned,” he affirmed, “But… this has been one of the better gigs.” You stayed static outside your bar for a moment as he walked away, your key still stuck in the lock.

It’s not like you needed protection in the first place, you were more than capable. Not that Sevika knew that. You grumbled to yourself as you organized the prep area behind the bar; you hadn’t had to give much mind to security the past several months, Sevika handled the matter in its entirety without you so much as having to ask.

You’d have to add that back into your list of tasks. Along with putting all the stools up at closing time. And what were you supposed to do with all these damn cigarillos you had behind the counter? You didn’t smoke nearly as much as she did.

You smacked a hand that wasn’t yours away from the aforementioned stash, smirking when you heard a small, “Ow, jerk!”

“You’re not old enough to smoke.”

“It’s Zaun, babies would smoke if they could,” the boy, a little tail of yours named Kix, retorted, pouting as he hopped up on the counter. You sighed. “I finished that book you gave me.”

“Yeah? How was it?”

“Pretty good! And, I think, as a reward for finishing it, I should-”

“Yeah, I’m gonna stop you right there,” you said, stepping away to move the lemons you just sliced into a container. Your tail, of course, followed.

“Fine, can I at least finally get a knife?”

“When you can wield one of those batons without smacking yourself in the face, yeah. ‘Til then, hell no.”

“That’s a bad word!”

“Like you care!” You could only breathe out a laugh. The children of Zaun were sharp, often leaving you deeply amused and incredulous.

“Ugh,” he said dramatically, flailing against the bar. You shot one of your patrons an apologetic look at the antics of Stray Wet Cat #1. “But you have so many, Angel!” He exclaimed, “How’d you get those anyway? Did you kill somebody?”

I killed a lot of people, you wanted to say, but something told you that wouldn’t have been appropriate. “I told you before, Kix,” you started, voice gentle like a teacher’s, “Zaun isn’t the only place in the world where you need to defend yourself. The world is way bigger.”

“Doesn’t feel like it,” he muttered to himself, pushing away from the bar and trudging back to the lounge area connected to the kitchen, where a few of the other kids spent their time. You frowned as you watched him walk away, then looked down at the paring knife in your right hand.

For the children of Zaun, life depended on which end of the knife you found yourself on, and oftentimes nothing more. How much were you really doing for them, giving them sandwiches to eat and rudimentary lessons on how to hold a blade? They all had to leave the bar at the end of each day, stepping back into the streets waiting to swallow them whole on their treks back home.

“Don’t be so hard on ya’self, Ang’,” the patron you’d shared a look with earlier interjected. You looked up at him in a daze, quickly putting on a thoughtful smile.

“I’m okay,” you replied simply.

“And so are those kids, thanks to you,” he said, “A little bit goes a long way in Zaun. These kids can stretch an inch of kindness, always have been able to.”

You saw eyes like slate in your mind as the gentleman went back to nursing his drink, and your smile faltered.

Weren’t these the kids Sevika claimed to be doing her righteous work for? What could she tell them as she chipped away at their safe haven, showing up bi-weekly just to take away a little more? You growled lowly as you swiped a cigarillo from beneath the counter, abiding the thought to linger in your mind- as if you could condition yourself to hate her faster.

You were busy staring down the end of the cigarillo as you lit it, almost too busy to notice how a wave of quiet had washed over the Five-Copper Furnace. Your eyes flicked to the door just in time, though.

Your busy mind halted all thoughts more trivial than the now, a low voice reminding you of the shotgun beneath your bar, the knives in your sleeves, and the preeminent experience in violence that scarred your skin. Four men wearing all manners of weapons, and gleaming belt buckles of meridian silver, stalked into your bar.

𒀭 𒀭 𒀭

Sevika was, for whatever reason, a woman well-versed in the department of odd and unwanted talents. Being weirdly good with kids was at the forefront.

“Oh! Captain-General Metal Arm Lady!” Well, she knew which kid that was*.*

“Why is my name so long?” She muttered to herself as she stopped anyway, and turned on her heel to face him. The boy, one of Angel’s little henchmen named Kix, skidded to a stop in front of her. “What is it, kid?” She asked gruffly.

“Where’ve you been? Are you and Angel having a lover’s quarrel?”

Isn’t he like twelve?? Sevika picked her jaw up from the ground as quickly as it’d fallen. “Who the hell even taught you what that is?” She asked incredulously.

“That’s a bad word. And I read it in a book. Are you coming to the Five-Copper?”

“No, I’m busy,” Sevika said flatly. Her brow furrowed at the way his face fell. Not like a child who’d been told no, but a boy who had something to fear. “…Why?”

“Well, uh… m-maybe you could just stop by?” He rocked back on his heels, looking over his shoulder at the bar in question. He’d caught Sevika so close to the place, he just needed to get her through the door… “I think Angel might… u-um…”

Sevika sighed. “Before tomorrow, Kix.”

“I think Angel might need you.”

Sevika scoffed, turning with a small flare of her cloak (drama queen), “She’s a big girl, she can handle herself just fine, kid. I gotta go.” A small, surprised grunt rose out of her when she felt a tug on her metal arm. She looked down at the boy, shooting him a glare that lacked even an inch of fire.

“Please, Miss Sevika! A bunch of guys just walked in and I don’t know them, a-and they have really ugly, scary faces, and-”

“Okay! Okay. C’mon, let’s go,” Sevika rattled her arm out of Kix’s grasp, sweeping it back beneath her cloak. The boy let out a small cheer as her broad form turned in the direction of the Five-Copper Furnace, and he fell into step under the cover of her shadow. “And don’t call me ‘Miss Sevika’. Just Sevika is alright,” she made a small, grossed-out sound.

“Okay! Does that mean we’re friends?”

“No,” she replied, giving his head a small nudge as they walked.

“Ack! Bully!”

The smile that began to flicker across her features promptly melted back into her perpetual frown as she watched almost half a dozen patrons leave the Five-Copper in succession. “How many of them were there, kid?” She asked in a low voice.

“Uh, I think four?”

Sevika hummed, stopping beside the entrance. She pulled Kix aside by the collar with her, as even more patrons filed out. “Are your friends in there?” She asked. The boy nodded. “Okay. Go get ‘em through the back. And go home.”

“But-!”

“Uh-uh. She’s already pissed at me enough, can’t imagine how mad she’d be if you brats got hurt once this goes down.”

“So…” Sevika felt a few grey hairs grow in at the same time Kix’s frown faded into a grin, “…it is a lover’s quarrel?”

“Kix!”

“Okay, bye Sevika!” He hopped up and down as if to charge himself up before sprinting off. Sevika watched as he nearly tripped over himself when he quickly halted again. “Uh… you won’t let them hurt Angel, right?”

“She’ll be fine,” Sevika said. She sighed as his feet stayed planted in the ground. Her voice was softer when she spoke again, “You have my word, kid. Angel will be okay.” He gave her a final grin, before darting off. Sevika cracked her neck as she zeroed back on the entrance to Angel’s bar. “Guess collections is early this month,” she muttered wryly, before pushing the door open.

𒀭 𒀭 𒀭

“These people don’t even know, do they?”

You breathed out tendrils of smoke from your nose, lowering your voice in line with the bounty hunter’s. His friends had stayed mute, opting to survey your patrons and the bar itself like three angry lighthouses.

You smiled slightly at those who hadn’t left yet, whose postures were coiled tightly like metal springs.

“I can’t imagine it’d change a thing,” you replied. You picked up the wanted poster (old fashioned, you were aware) he’d thrown on the counter, giving it another flippant once-over. Your likeness had been- rather skillfully- illustrated in the center, with meaningless words like ‘Wanted’ and ‘approach with care’ swimming around it.

God, I’m good-looking, you thought with a smile and a nod.

“And yet you have ‘em call you a different name. Bury your old one with the rest of your money, huh?”

“Oh, that isn’t buried. Not one bit,” Your face spread into a grin, wolfish teeth crushing the filter of the cigarillo. You saw the hunger that flickered in his eyes, a greed so romantically entwined with the people of Bilgewater that men died for it. Like this one would.

“Well, good to know! Between that and the hundred Golden Krakens on your head, you’ll make a fine cashout,” the rancid man said, “Angel.”

Your eyes widened slowly, mockingly. “A hundred Golden Krakens?” You echoed, “…Can I turn myself in?” Your eyes flicked casually to the door as you heard it open once again.

“Very funny. Now…”

Whatever the hunter had to say ceased to matter as you watched her walk in. Wide shoulders curved inwards, entering with the same intent your remaining customers all had. Sevika met your eyes immediately.

On one hand, not only was your safety further secured, but a return in a casket to your old city was all but out of the question now. Sevika wouldn’t let you die, at the very least, you knew that much.

On the other hand… Sevika was in your bar. Your eyes narrowed at her, and you gave her a look that practically screamed ‘piss off’ in spite of your other senses relaxing. She shook her head at you, matching your rising agitation with an annoyed curl of her lip.

Kix, she mouthed. Oh, thanks, kid. What a wingman.

You would’ve found it silly the way she stuck to the walls as she moved through the bar. Trying to get closer to you, you realized. A hand slamming down on the table and another grabbing your collar brought your attention back to more pressing matters.

Sevika felt her heart jump higher in her chest, and she resisted the urge to rush right to you and pluck that man’s head from the rest of him. A firm hand on her shoulder was all that prevented her, and she leveled her gaze with the fool who’d stepped in her line of view.

“We called dibs on this job, you’re too late,” the hunter said. Sevika furrowed her brows in brief confusion, but the pieces came together quickly in a mind as sharp as hers.

Bounty hunters? For you?

He gave her shoulder a shove, and Sevika let herself be moved. Some distance to deploy her left arm’s blade, good. “Go on,” he growled.

A scream from the bar counter swiveled all heads in that direction.

Sevika’s eyes widened as your name started to rise in her throat, until she saw the main perpetrator sink like a stone in water… his hand left behind in your grasp. You wiped the knife on your apron, throwing your still-burning cigarillo at him as he writhed on the floor.

Sevika threw her cloak to the ground before her sensibilities turned to steel.

𒀭 𒀭 𒀭

You would’ve made a fine alchemist, if you hadn’t chosen the more profitable industry of alcoholism instead.

You also would’ve been far less likely to have ever encountered Sevika and the all-consuming rage she inspired in you if you’d started an Apothecary. What with her- very much expected- aversion to seeking out any medical assistance of any sort.

“Ow.”

“Stay still.”

“Ow.” Sevika hissed when you pressed the tonic-doused cloth to her wound with the exact same vigor as before, thrashing away from you. You sat up straight, leveling her with a look that seethed with your indignance.

“You’re acting like a wuss.”

“And you’re acting like a child who didn’t get her way,” she snapped. Your eye twitched, and so you closed them to take a moment to gather yourself.

You missed the way Sevika’s gaze fell slowly to your lap, eyes creasing as she frowned at your battered hands. You hadn’t had time to pull your gun from beneath the bar before shit went down, and so you’d resorted to hacking with hand and blade. Sevika had been at your back like a magnet, sticking to you and letting the hunters come to her. You’d held your own valiantly.

She only serviced you a lukewarm glare as you moved back to her, this time gently easing the cloth onto her wounded cheek. You held her in place by the other side of her face. “You can take a punch but not a wound disinfectant,” you quipped.

“I took more than just a punch recently, princess.” Sevika side-eyed you when your touch faltered, letting out a shallow huff from her nose.

“Unbelievable…” you muttered.

“Who the hell were those guys? What could they possibly want with you?” Sevika asked. You jutted your lip at her in annoyance when her movements shifted the cloth.

She looked down to ponder the fight from a few hours ago (the lower floor was still an absolute wreck, but that was a problem for you to deal with tomorrow). Silver teeth; and weaponry not at all reminiscient of anything you’d find in Zaun, or Piltover. They had moved with an erratic tick to their attacks, not completely unlike the Shimmer-dependent henchmen Silco kept; although their addiction ran strictly red.

“They weren’t Zaunites,” she mused aloud.

“…No. They weren’t. They were from Bilgewater.”

You freed your other hand to reach for your wanted poster you’d nabbed before heading upstairs, and handed it to Sevika. There was a hanging silence between you as she read the same words over and over again.

“They got your likeness wrong,” she said. You pursed your lips, waiting. “Your head is bigger than that.”

“Shut up.”

Sevika chuckled; or at least gave a limp attempt at it. Her hand holding the poster fell with a soft crunch as she sighed. You let your own hands rest in your lap as she closed her eyes, and leaned her head over the back of your couch.

She had such a pretty neck. The lines of that strange scar were like wisps of blue smoke on her skin. You wanted to reach out to touch them, to thank her sweetly for defending you even as you spat fire on her wounds. You wanted to kiss all the smooth and rough patches you could see, lull her into a soft sleep-

“This is gonna get back to Silco in a couple of days tops.”

You scoffed. “What, is he gonna raise my rent? Doesn’t he have a revolution to claim to run?”

Deep down, you were impressed with what Sevika let you get away with saying to her. Inadvertently discounting her life’s work was no small thing, and you’d seen her put others on the ground for less. It was even more surprising when she gave a real answer to your poor-faithed question.

“You should’ve kept your head low. And let me deal with it. Not- cut a guy’s hand off.” She shook her head, rubbing her forehead. You opened your mouth to refute your lost honor, but she beat you to it, “You’re too… competent. He’ll wanna bring you in now. And you’re no good to the Undercity if he pockets you.”

You’re about to ask her why the hell does she work for him then, but another piece clicks into place before the words surface. Sevika watches the realization cross your face. “So that’s why you…”

“Trust me,” Sevika took hold of your wrist as she raised her head to stare scrutinizingly at your wall, and guided you to press the cloth back to her face. “The collections I take from you are cheaper than really being under his heel. You should see what he takes from that Sheriff up in Piltover.” She breathed out a humorless laugh. Your eyes widened, as the scope of Silco’s reach did too. **

You were a fool. Had going straight truly dulled your cunning mind? (Or was it just the handsome woman sitting in your living room…)

“That’s the discounted price too, by the way,” she muttered. You were pulled from your thoughts with a soft laugh.

“I knew you were fond of me.”

“I like what you do for the kids.”

“It’s nothing,” you said softly, surveying the injury on her face and deeming it sufficiently stabilized to move onto the next. You were glad, at least, that the brunt of the pain had been inflicted on you two rather than your good-willed customers.

Sevika’s brow furrowed as she watched you go through the motions of prepping her next injury. Truthfully, she didn’t know why she let you drag her upstairs in the first place; the way you coupled your attentive- if not presumptuous- touch with barbed jabs at her gall for walking into your bar should’ve pissed her off. But she let you move her like you were a breeze.

Your movements were practiced, like you’d spent a whole lifetime sweeping up the broken pieces of stupid, pointless fights. Sevika looked down at the wanted poster again. “…How much is 100 Golden Krakens?” She asked.

You hummed as you tried to think of the best comparison in Zaun’s economy, “Probably eightteen months’ worth of what I make running the bar.”

“Janna-”

You laughed heartily as you carefully peeled the wax paper from a bandage. Subconsciously, you rubbed over the wound once it was patched to soothe the ache, not noticing how Sevika’s gaze immediately went to your nimble hand. “Why, you thinkin’ about turning me in?” You teased.

“Funny,” she deadpanned, “Would be one less pain in the ass for me, though.” She gave you a pointed onceover. Her feigned exasperation melted into a grin when you slapped her leg (albeit very weakly).

“You just said you like me!”

“That isn’t what I said,” she said, still feigning dismissal so smugly. You hated how well she wore a petty smirk, or how pretty her teeth were when she gleaned a real smile.

(You wanted to kiss that stupid look right off her face.)

Instead, all you did was roll your eyes, collapsing on the opposite end of the couch. In Sevika’s mind, she just won that encounter.

“You mind if I smoke?”

You waved your hand, looking out the window of your kitchen, “Worse has happened in my house today.” She didn’t pull your gaze back to her until you heard her shifting around for a longer amount of time than it should’ve taken for someone to find a cig and lighter. “Lose your lighter?” You mocked, taking in the cigarillo hanging out of her mouth as she patted down her pockets with mild frustration on her face.

“One of the bastards must have knocked it out of my pack,” she said with an agitated sigh. Her eyes perked up at the metal clink of… your lighter. You laid your head back against the arm of the couch, resting the open lighter slightly above your abdomen. Sevika’s breath caught as she realized how close she’d have to get to you- how close you’d make her get to you- to get a light.

Her eyes narrowed into a glare as they slid up to meet your gaze. She wasn’t about to make a coward of herself now, though. She held your expectant stare as she leaned down between your legs, one of her hands boldly bracing on your shin with a slight squeeze. She cupped her hand protectively around yours as she lit the end of her cigarillo. The way your eyes widened and your chest stopped rising with breath wasn’t lost on her.

I take it back, Kix, she thought, I don’t think she’s all that pissed.

She turned her head to the side as she blew smoke from her mouth. “Tell me something,” she said, her voice nearly a purr. You had to fight with your own goddamn eyes to tear away from the small puffs of smoke that left her mouth as she spoke. You cocked a brow. “Were you a pirate or something?” She asked. Her eyes widened slightly when you met her with silence. “Oh, sweet hell…”

“Don’t laugh!”

She laughed. You loved that she did.

“That was… a long time ago,” you waved your hand like you could bat the memories away, but they’d never felt more with you than today. You had nearly forgotten how easy it was to snatch someone’s life away. You’d made a fortune on it once, and yet… the muscle of ruthlessness had grown weak and disoriented with lack of exercise. You frowned to yourself, shaking your head. “I did a lot of things I’m not proud of.”

Sevika shrugged, taking another drag. “We don’t choose where life puts us,” she replied. You shouldn’t have been surprised by such a… thoughtful sentence leaving her mouth. But your brows still raised slightly as you looked at her. “I’m not gonna be the one to judge you around here.”

You frowned, guilt jabbing in your gut. “But I did you.”

“Maybe you weren’t wrong for it,” she retorted softly. Your eyes widened. She inhaled softly before continuing, swiveling her gaze to meet yours again. “I used to try an’ push Silco to do more for the kids. Get books smuggled in in between all the Shimmer requisitions,” she scoffed, shaking her head. Your heart squeezed as you watched her carefully begin to pull the curtains around her true self back- for you. “Give people resources, just… something. I didn’t realize I let four years go by ‘til I saw you doing all that for the kids the moment you touched down here.”

You sighed, swinging your legs over the edge of the couch to rub your face with both hands. “You really think I won’t be able to help them at all once Silco comes knocking?” You asked, biting your lip as you felt like what was the only answer was slowly enclosing around you.

Immediately though, Sevika shook her head. Your mouth opened slightly in confusion as she stood up from your couch. “No. I’m gonna handle this,” the determination in her step would have been beyond adorable if it weren’t for your utter bemusement. “I… owe you,” she said slowly. You wanted to laugh at how her fierce bravado seemed to come to a skidding stop the moment she had to make an admission on her pride.

“Oh yeah?” You teased.

She rolled her eyes as she pulled her cloak back on over her shoulders, concealing that absolute unit of a figure from your prying eyes. You smiled at how her broad shoulders were still very apparent, and the beginnings of her v-line peeked out with that damn cropped vest- get it together, Angel. “He’s gonna know I was here anyway, might as well make something out of it,” she explained (right, you bought that…), pausing again to scrutinize you, “You’re all good?”

Trigonometric equations started floating around in your head as you tried to decipher what she could possibly mean with that question, until her arched brow turned judgemental at how long you were taking to answer.

Oh. She was just asking about your… general wellbeing. Aw!

“O-oh, yeah, I’m all good,” you said. Truthfully too, you were more used to fighting the Bilgewater types than her, and had come out of the confrontation mostly unscathed. Your jaw stuttered as if to say more when she hummed and took a swift step forward, tilting your head up with her index and thumb.

“You’re not lying?” She asked lowly, turning your head gently from side to side.

“E-even if I was, it’s none of your business,” you snapped defensively. Dumbass. Did you have any idea how red your face was?

With an amused exhale from her nose, Sevika gently let go of your chin, fleetingly brushing her crooked index over your cheek. “Whatever you say, princess,” she said. She didn’t even give you a chance to shoot back something clever (as if you had something prepared) before she was sweeping towards the door, fixing her cigarillo in the corner of her mouth. “Your bar’s a mess,” she quipped over her shoulder, just to be a dick.

��Fuck you!” You called after her, the smile on your face crystal-clear in your tone. The last thing you saw was her pretty side-profile as she half-glanced at you with smug amusement lining her face, before she closed the door behind her.

You slumped back on the couch, letting out a heavy sigh. “That goddamn woman…” you muttered, “Fuck.”

#sevika #arcane sevika #sevika x reader #ubebones writing #arcane #angel the pirate

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gh0stsp1d3r · 4 months ago

Note

hiii! i was wondering if you could do the salesman / gong yoo but make him a professor at a prestigious university, and his student is struggling. but there’s plenty of tension between them, so he invites her over hehe. i’d love to see your take!

key words: older man/younger woman, praise kink, some bdsm, hair pulling, dom! gong yoo, sub! reader, sexual tension, body worship, creampie (maybe), aftercare

professor

A /N: ADORE THIS. Sorry it took a while ):

WARNINGS: age gap, p in v, professor x student (ALL OF ARE AGE), Sir kink, praise kink, professor kink, bondage (tying up hands w/ rope), unprotected sex, creampies

MASTERLIST

Every day, like clockwork, you sat in the same exact front seat, directly in front of him. You batted your eyelashes at him innocently, biting on the tip of your pencil and creasing your eyebrows in that adorable way when you were confused.

You’ve always been one of his favorite students. You were smart, you were kind, respectful, but fuck, you were hot, too. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

Not when you stared at him at like that. Not when you looked so perfect to ruin.

And when you came up to him after class, pleading for help and tutoring from him, well, he felt like it was all falling into his lap.

“Miss Y/N.” He spoke when you stood in front of his desk, small smile making its way onto his face. He ran a hand through his hair, subtly looking you up and down before leaning back in his chair. “What can I do for you?”

“Sir,” you nodded your head, giving him a polite smile as well. “I was wondering if you would help me with something… I’m not sure I quite understood what we were talking about today,” you spoke, pausing and looking at him.

“Go on.” He nodded, interest piquing by the second.

“Well, I was thinking, could you perhaps better explain the subject to me after school, or something like that? It would be very beneficial, I think, to hear it from you rather than a student.”

“You’re asking for tutoring?” He asked you with raised eyebrows.

“Yes, sir.” You nodded, and he thought for a moment. What better opportunity would he have?

“Alright. Sure.” He agreed, and you found yourself smirking to yourself as he began to write down his address on a piece of paper, before handing it to you. His next class of students began to fill in, and you took that as a cue to leave.

“Thank you very much, professor!” You spoke as you left, giving him a wave. He gave you a smile and small wave back, turning to his new class, clearing his throat. He couldn’t contain the smile on his face as he began to teach his next class.

Later, you pulled up to the address on the note. Your nerves were jumping every step you took closer to his house.

He could have invited you into his office, he could have invited you anywhere on campus, but, no. He invited you to his house. He knew what you wanted, and you knew what he wanted.

You bundled your hand up into a fist, raising it and rapping at the door quietly. It wasn’t long before he opened it, peeking out before opening it fully, inviting you in with a warm smile, cup of coffee in hand.

“Miss y/n.”

You gave him a smile back, taking off your shoes as you entered. He sat in his sofa, motioning for you to follow and do the same. You sat next to him, sitting up straight with your hands in your lap.

“So,” he leaned down to the table in front of him, putting his cup down and flipping the pages of a textbook. “Where would you like to start?” He asked you, turning to you.

You began to ramble on, about some subjects you could start with, about subjects you didn’t understand completely.

He listened, nodding as he flipped to the proper pages, and opened it to what you were talking about.

“You wanna go ahead and read that for me, sweetheart?”

The nickname caused your cheeks to warm up and your eyes to widen slightly. You blinked rapidly, before stammering out.

“U-uhm, yeah, yeah- sure.” You nodded dumbly, and he couldn’t help the small smirk that made its way onto his face.

“Just read the page.” He told you, you nodding and moving, grabbing the pages and reading them in your head before he let out a ‘tsk.’

You paused, looking at him with a quirked eyebrow.

“Out loud.”

You stared at him for a moment, before turning around, squirming where you sat when you felt the denim of his jeans rub against your bare thighs. The couch was small, so you thought nothing of it, at least, not until he slowly moved his hand to your leg, placing it on your knee as you spoke out loud.

You began to stutter through the words, feeling your cheeks heating up. It felt as if though every single touch you felt from him was electric.

“Uhm- this leads to the- to the…” you trailed off, breath hitching when you felt his hand trail further up, testing the waters until they reached the underneath of your skirt.

He looked back at you, watching your reaction as his hand paused at your panties, a small smile on his face.

Fuck it.

You leaned in closer to the man, book now completely forgotten as his lips were against yours. Everything that told you this was wrong, screaming at you that this wasn’t allowed, was completely erased from your brain.

You put your hands across his chest, his hands going to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. Your tongues danced together, the soft moans falling from his mouth sounding heavenly to you.

You both parted for a moment, catching your breath, both of you staring at each other.

He wordlessly stood up, and you followed him to his bedroom. The door was barely shut behind you before he threw you down onto the bed, you letting out a soft giggle when he crawled on top of you. He leaned down again, his lips hovering against yours as he murmured softly to you.

“You have no clue how long I’ve wanted to do this.” He told you, soft pants falling from his mouth.

You stared up at him, wide eyed, with a look that made him want to destroy you.

He was the one to take your shorts off, a small grin forming on his face at the sight of your cute lace pink panties. You could feel the heat going to your cheeks, embarrassment flooding you.

“These are cute.” He mumbled, tinge of amusement in his voice.

“Stop!” You whined out, him letting out a chuckle. He could see the way you subtly clenched your thighs, trying to get some sort of friction.

“So impatient, hmm?” He teased.

“Please, professor.” You spoke with a pout on your face.

His eyes widened now, swallowing thickly at the name. He darted his tongue out, licking his lips and another grin appearing on his face. He liked that.

He lowered himself down so that he was face to face with your glistening pussy, smile on his face as he ran his fingers through your folds.

His thick finger found your hole, looking up at you before pushing two of them in, causing you to throw your head back against the pillow, which caused him to grin to himself as he pushed his fingers further into your walls.

He curled them up, grin remaining on his face as he scissored them, and thrusted them in and out of you, feeling you clench down on his digits.

His thumb moved to press on your clit, pressing down on the delicate button, causing you to let out a whine. He swirled his thumb in a circle, all while still thrusting his fingers in and out of you.

“Professor-“

“Mhm…cum for me, sweetheart.” He told you, knowing what you were going to say before you could. He coaxed the first orgasm out of you, still circling his thumb on your clit as you rid out your high, your legs spasming as you came around his fingers.

He slowly removed his hands from your walls, smile on his face as he looked up at you, sticking his fingers in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the digits, sucking off the wetness that came from you.

You watched in awe, jaw slightly dropping at the sight in front of you.

He cracked a smile at your reaction, moving up to give you one more quick kiss on your lips before moving back.

He moved to unbutton and take off his pants, you watching him curiously. Fuck, he was built, you thought as your eyes shamelessly scanned his abs.

He now was only in his boxers, before eventually, he threw both of those off as well, discarding them in the room while you took your shirt off as well, arching your back to reach for the back of your bra and unclipping it.

While you were doing that, he moved to the side of his bed and began to rummage through his drawer, pulling out a bundle of rope.

“Sir-“ you began, but were cut off when he grabbed your wrists, putting them to the headboard, and began tying them together to his headboard expertly. He was quick and precise, tightening it around you. You looked up at him, confused, but he just smiled down at you.

He wasted no more time to slap the tip of his cock onto your folds, a gasp escaping your mouth as he began to slowly inch his length into your hole.

You wanted to touch him, to wrap your arms around his neck, but you couldn’t. He stared down at you, watching you struggle against the restraints with an amused expression on his face. He was enjoying this.

“Fuck, such a good girl.” He rasped out, his voice making your head spin.

The voices in your head, the ones that told you that this was wrong, suddenly disappeared as soon as you felt him bottom out into your cunt. His hand went to the headboard, holding it for stability as he dragged his cock out of you, before harshly thrusting back in.

Your mouth opened to form an ‘o’ shape as he snapped his hips against yours, a moan falling from your lips.

The groans that came from him and the cries coming from you reverberated in the room. With every snap of his hips, you grew needier. His hand that wasn’t on the headboard moved to your pussy, and began to rub on your clit, rubbing circles fastly.

“C’mon, cum for me, sweetheart. I know you can do it.”

That was all you needed, you letting out a louder cry as you came around his cock, this triggering his own orgasm. He let out a raspy groan, mumbling “shit,” to himself as he painted your walls.

He watched as his seed mixed with yours and it fell down to your legs, an idea popping into his head as he pulled out for a moment, before stuffing his cock back into your entrance, pushing the leaky cum back into you, smearing it all over your pussy with a proud smile on his face.

“What?” He asked as if he was innocent when you let out another whine at the feeling. He pulled out once more, looking down at you.

Your body was completely spent, your wrists aching and your clit puffy from the stimulation. He may have been older, but fuck, he knew what he was doing.

He looked back at the restraints on your wrist, moving over towards them, undoing them easily. You let out a sigh of relief, going to massage your wrists.

“You alright?” He asked you, posture straightening as he stood up, beginning to put his boxers on.

“Mhm.” You spoke with a dazed look in your eyes, and a soft smile on your face.

He let out a chuckle, and looked around for a moment, deciding whether or not he should even be doing this. He decided that he’d already crossed that line, and that at this point, it didn’t matter:

“I’m gonna go run a bath for you.” He told you, before leaving you in the room, you hearing the faucet in the bathroom run.

Your mind was racing with thoughts. You just fucked your professor. Your very hot professor who you’ve had a crush on for months. Holy shit. Was this even real? He just came in you. Maybe you should-

Your thoughts were interrupted when he picked you up bridal style up off of the bed, his touch surprisingly gentle as a contrast to his movements before.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he lowered you down into the tub, the warm water underneath causing your body to calm down. You nestled deeper into the water, glancing at him.

He sat at the side of the tub, a bottle of body wash in his hands, and he looked at you, tilting his head slightly, silently asking if it was okay.

This was different. It felt so much more intimate. But you didn’t mind.

You gave him a small nod, and he stood up, moving to wash your shoulders, massaging them gently. before moving down to the rest of your body. His caresses were gentle and soft, as if you would break like glass if he did it any harder.

None of it was sexual, none of it had any lustful intentions. You found yourself smiling at him again, him giving you a soft smile back.

You had a thing for your teacher, and sure, maybe it was wrong, but you couldn’t find it in you to care.

#𓈒♡͙ೃ࿔ asks #gong yoo #gong yoo smut #gong yoo x reader #the salesman smut #the salesman #squid games #squid game x reader #squid games smut #the recruiter #the recruiter x reader #the recruiter smut #the recruiter x you #the salesman x you #the salesman x y/n #gong yoo x you #squid games x you #squid games x reader

762 notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 1 year ago

Note

roomate jamess 😭😭😭💓💓🤍😭😭💓

I agree !

part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!james x shy!reader ♡ 733 words

James gets the text just as he arrives home: Are you hungry?

He grins, putting his car in park as he types out a reply.

I’m wounded. We’re coming up on our one-month roommate anniversary, and you still don’t know I’m always hungry?

This makes a grand total of four texts between the two of you. You’d conversed a bit more on Craigslist before agreeing to let James move in with you, but barely. Your radio silence is much like your actual silence, but he’s happy to be making a dent in either.

Your response comes while he’s fishing his keys out of his pocket. Sorry. Want thai?

James laughs, opening the door and toeing off his shoes. He calls in the general direction of your room, “I hope you’re joking about being sorry.”

He’s hoping for maybe a reply via text, so it comes as a pleasant surprise when you appear on the stairs. You move like a ghost; if he put you and Remus in an old manor together, James is half sure it’d qualify as a haunted house.

You’re in your pajamas, which means you must already be done with work for the day. James has noticed this is one of your habits; once you’ve decided you’re staying in the house, your outside clothes hit the hamper and you’re living in fuzzy socks. These ones, standing halfway up the staircase, are blue with white stars. Something about seeing you in full cozy mode makes James’ stomach twinge.

“Do you want Thai?” you ask again, longer and in person. Several decibels quieter than he’d just been.

“Sure.” James gives you a smile, flopping backwards over the arm of the couch. He was going to cook pasta for dinner, but he’s a bit tired anyway and agreeing to the first bonding opportunity you’ve offered him takes precedence. “Do you wanna use my card, or should I pay you after?”

“Don’t.” You wave him off, already typing on your phone. “I’m getting it.”

“Not happening,” James replies. He starts digging in his pocket for his wallet, unearthing a half dozen gum wrappers and a receipt from last March. “But in theory, to what do I owe the honor?”

Your eyes flit to him, something like accusation in them. James feels his eyebrows lift. “I know you don’t have that many leftovers,” you say.

So, you’re onto him. “I cook a lot,” he replies with a shrug. “If there’s extra, someone should eat it.”

“But why not you?”

“Why not you?” he counters.

You look suspiciously as though you might be biting down on a smile. A real one. “The point is, I owe you at least a meal. Do you want to see the menu?”

“Sure, thanks.” He reaches out a hand. You come down the stairs to give him your phone, but once it’s in his hand your eyes narrow mistrustfully, fingers tightening on the device.

“If you try to pay,” you tell him, “I’ll hide the money in your room so you don’t find it until you move out.”

A laugh bubbles up out of him at your serious tone. “We live together, babe. I think I’ll come across it at some point.”

“Not with your room as messy as it is.”

Damn it, you’re right. “Fine.” James holds up his hands in surrender, credit card between his fingers. “But when I make dinner tomorrow, just eat it while it’s hot, yeah? Let’s do away with the pretense.”

You sigh through your nose, sitting down beside him with one leg curled under you. You’re attempting something that’s probably supposed to be a glare. James would hate to have to tell you how unintimidating it is, but he may if you keep it up much longer; it’s almost too adorable to take.

“I appreciate it, but you really don’t need to cook for me,” you say. “I eat plenty when you’re not here.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“That’s the point, James.” You roll your eyes, looking halfway amused. Shit, the day he actually makes you laugh he’s gonna have to bake a cake. “You’re not here to see it.”

“Do you wanna watch a movie while we eat?” He passes you back your phone, having added his order to your cart. “They’ve just added a slew of new movies to Netflix. Also, for tomorrow, do you prefer pasta or chicken?”

2K notes · View notes

madamechrissy · 5 months ago

Text

Silent Serenades

♔ An arranged Marriage with Duke Gojo ♔

♔ Pairings: Duke Satoru Gojo x Duchess Reader

♔ Content/Warnings: TW: period sex scene, I'll mark if you wanna skip- angsty asf always but more fluff, A LOT OF SMUT THIS CHAP, cunnilingus, fingering, blow jobs, rough sex, dirty talk, name calling, low key breed kink, mentions of past cheating

♔ Word count: this chap: 12.2k

♔ Summary: you are the diamond of the season, he is the charming Duke, it’s the marriage of the decade. Prominent families joining, and it so happens that Duke Gojo is gorgeous. But, he doesn't want you at all, leaving you a crying mess on your wedding night, alone. Now you're trapped in a loveless arranged marriage that destroys you from within. Royal AU, Cruel Duke Gojo x reader. OOC Set in 1800s England. Gojo is awful in this. You'll hate Satoru, warning you now. HEAVY angst Basically- Gojo is a royal dick and doesn't wanna marry you

Comments and Reblogs appreciated if you enjoyyy <3

Part Eleven ♔ Masterlist ♔ Playlist

Part Twelve

“Please, don’t fight. Especially here.” You say softly, and the two of them look down at you, Satoru’s blue eyes are furious and Nanami’s hazel ones seem devastated, filling you with so much guilt you can’t stand.

“There are many people looking already.” Hiromi says, worried expression on his face.

“Then we’ll go somewhere else.” Satoru says through gritted teeth.

“Absolutely.” Nanami agrees, cracking his knuckles, your stomach feels sick as they start walking out, you follow them, gently pulling on Satoru’s hand, he grips yours in his, eyes now glassy as he scowls at Nanami, jaw clenched so hard you see a blue vein under his pale skin popping up.

“Satoru…” He clutches your hand then, looking at you, and you tense, preparing for a blow. Surely he’ll down you for what you’ve caused, surely he’s furious…

“I’m not mad at you.” He says softly, shocking you then, your jaw is dropped open, he’s letting you go though now that you all are literally in an alleyway, hidden from others. It’s dark and cold as he lets you go, walking up chest to chest with Nanami, leaving Hiromi to look back nervously behind you all.

“Nanami…” He begins again.

“How do you think you have any right to walk up on me and my wife, shouldn’t you be baking fucking cookies?” Satoru shoves him then, and Nanami laughs without humor, rolling up his sleeves to reveal the strong forearms. He’s way bigger than Satoru is, even though Satoru is very muscular, and you instantly fear for him.

“I do a lot more than bake cookies, your Grace.” Nanami says, shoving Satoru back now, but he barely moves, looming taller over him, rolling his own sleeves up now to reveal his veined forearms and clenched fists.

“Like trying to steal wives?”

“Steal, you didn’t even want her!”

You feel tears prick your eyes at the words, at the memories, and Satoru pauses for a moment now, brows together. “I always wanted her.”

“Sure you did, remember I was at that masquerade, and I was right next to your chambers.” His eyes dart to you now. “You had no problem having women scream, how do you have a right to act like some doting husband now? Having her afraid to eat a fucking cookie.”

Satoru pauses again, raking a hand through his hair, your heart is racing as you watch them, unable to speak. “I was terrible, but it gives you no excuse to literally take what’s mine. Do you know I can duel you for what you did to her?”

“It was her choice. She asked me.” Satoru looks at you now, and you want to sink into a fucking hole. “Several times. Over and-”

Satoru punches him then, right in the jaw, Nanami grunts, only to punch Satoru, instantly splitting his lip. Satoru licks the blood, laughing. “And she was an innocent girl, she didn’t even know what it was.”

“She saw you plenty.” Nanami punches again, Satoru ducks, you’re fighting the urge to throw up as Satoru pins him to the wall. “What, now you want her? Because I was going to marry her?”

“You never had a chance, baker boy. She never loved you.”

“And you think she loves you? She’s just young and naive.”

“She’s not naive, she knows what she wants, and it isn’t you. Unh…” Nanami punches Satoru right in the stomach, making him hunch over, only for you to run between them now, holding your arms out, glaring up at Nanami, whose strong chest is huffing up and down.

“Get out of the way, Duchess. I have more to say.” Nanami says, and you shake your head now. “You’ll protect him after what he did? He almost broke you.”

“I know he did, and I know you helped me, and Nanami I thank you for being there, but… I ended things.” You say quietly, he shakes his head, scowling over you, when Satoru’s hands come to your waist possessively, making him furious.

“So what you immediately did what I said you would?” He demands, eyeing you and raising a brow, you tremble now, feeling emotions overwhelm you.

“You don’t get to judge her. Mr. Fucks Married Women.” Satoru has you behind him now, shoving Nanami again.

“You hadn’t even fucked her yet, you mad I was first?”

“Really, stop!” You are pressed aside as Nanami is punched in the stomach by Satoru again, he punches Satoru so hard you hear a sickening crack, panicking. “Will you two-”

“Nanami, you can’t do this.” Hiromi says. “He’s a Duke.”

“And he’s a fucking piece of shit, who slaps women and downs them.” Nanami wipes blood off his lip, and Satoru’s furious, literally shaking.

“Yeah I was a piece of shit, but guess what, you’re no knight in shining armor, you took advantage.”

“Me!? I’m nothing like you.” Satoru pins Nanami to the wall now, as you and Hiromi look at each other.

“Can you get through to him?” You whisper, and he sighs, shaking his head as he looks down.

“He’s in love with you, how do you fix that?” You feel the guilt clawing at your heart as you look on with horror at them, at the man you couldn’t love enough, and the man you can’t stop loving.

“You are more like me than you think, I heard you, I saw you with her, and instead of killing you like you fucking deserve, I let you go. Now you’re coming up to me like this? Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“Someone who actually loves her, who cares, who wants to beat you to a pulp for how much you broke her. Do you know how far down she was? How she hated herself because of you? I knew her before you ruined her.”

“Ruined me…” You whisper, choking back tears, but of course they can’t hear with their own blood pumping in their ears.

“She’s not ruined, despite my efforts, she’s strong, and yes I was shit for it, but it’s not you who gets to come at me. She can.”

“She won’t, she’s too sweet and caring, she cares about you when she sure fucking shouldn’t.”

“Nanami, please just… talk to me.” You ask then, and he glances at you, clear hurt all over his chiseled features.

“You can’t truly want this.” He says, and you sigh.

“I do want to be with him, I’m sorry… but I do.”

Nanami tenses, glaring. “What have you done to her so quickly?” Nanami asks, and Satoru smirks then, leaning close.

“I don’t know, had her cumming all over-” Nanami punches him again, now Satoru’s stumbling into a wall, earning your glare.

“Satoru, really?” You demand with a hiss.

“You’re mad I had her first, aren’t you?”

“Nanami!” You glare now, Satoru’s enraged at him.

“You’re bragging about taking my wife’s virginity? When she was hurt and vulnerable-”

“Hurt by you. By you. Can’t admit it?” Nanami has him snatched up by his suit now, crumbling the bright blue fabric, clenching his fist again as Satoru struggles out of his hold.

“I admit it, time for you to admit your fault.”

“I don’t have any fault in falling in love with her, when you threw her away like she was nothing. Why wouldn’t I fall for her?” You hear the emotions in his voice, usually so composed, Satoru is quiet for a moment, stopping the struggle.

“You don’t even know her, of course you think you’re in love, she’s everything… she’s beautiful, she’s amazing, she’s sweet… she’s also a fucking mess, she’s reckless, feisty and short tempered. She cusses like a man, and she’s most importantly her own person. She didn’t choose you.”

“She’s too blinded by you, by your manipulation. Is this what you do, treat her like shit until you almost lose her?”

“I’ll never forgive myself for what I did to her.” Satoru says then, voice breaking, you can barely look at them, breasts heaving with your breaths, tears falling hot and sticky down your cheeks.

“And she’s forgiven you already.”

“She has, but I won’t forgive myself. And I won’t forgive you, for taking what was never yours, you call me manipulative when you did worse. You would sleep with a virgin-”

“Please stop!” You beg, but it falls on deaf ears.

Satoru grins psychotically now. “She didn’t like it, baker.”

“Oh, she came on my-”

“Now!” You shove at them both again, huffing and turning to Nanami. “Don’t, no more please.”

Nanami’s brows lower. “How can you defend him?”

“He’s… I… I love him. I do.”

Nanami is quiet now, as is Satoru, so quiet you can hear the blood rushing through your veins. You know this will hurt him more, but it’s going too far. “You don’t know what you feel.”

“Stop speaking for her, she can speak for her fucking self just fine.” You glare at Satoru now.

“That’s enough out of you, both of you. Acting like children, fighting over their favorite toy. Nanami, I know you’re hurt, let us talk. Stop this.”

“Stop fighting for your honor?” He demands, leaning down now.

“She doesn’t need you to fight for her goddamn honor, she’s no damsel in distress. She was happy this morning, for once.”

“As if you could truly make her happy. And no, no one should treat women like you do.” Nanami shoves at Satoru again.

“So is it your knight tendencies or did you really love her?” He asks, raising a brow, and Nanami’s seething now.

“Don’t pretend to know anything about me. How much has she cried over you, and your endless cruelty?”

Satoru blinks, white lashes trembling over his gaze. “Well I’m not cruel now, and I’m fucking trying. She is my wife.”

“For now.”

“Jesus christ. Nanami… come talk to me.” Satoru grabs your arm then, glaring at you. “Let me talk to him.”

“Touch her again and I’ll fucking end you.” Satoru says, and Nanami smirks, tilting his head.

“Oh will you now?”

“Enough!” You drag Nanami further down the alleyway, as he’s brushing himself off, and Satoru’s stomping away, Hiromi turns around to give you both privacy. “This is too much, you must stop this, I’m not worth your efforts.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Nanami cups your face, bending low.

“You mean to get killed!?”

“You deserve someone to fight for you, for what he did, it wasn’t right and you know it.”

You grip his wrists now, and something feels so wrong about this, about his hands on you, when just days ago you welcomed them. “I appreciate you, I truly do, but I don’t need you to fight my fights. I am capable.”

“Capable of being manipulated?”

You glare now, taking his hands off. “You’re hurt.”

“Yes I am hurt, how can you be…” He leans close now. “How can you be cumming all over my cock, how can I have taken your innocence, and then you just… you just…”

You feel sick now, barely able to stand the thoughts of what you’ve done, and how deeply he was affected. The memories feel so long ago when they just were days ago. “I shouldn’t have slept with you. I’m so sorry for it.”

“What!? No…”

“No I never should have. You’re right, I asked for it, and I never should have done it. I shouldn’t have kissed you that day, I should have been friendly and moved on. Because I’ve destroyed you, and I care for you so much. Watching you… like this… I can’t…” You’re sobbing now, covering your mouth and shaking, Nanami gulps, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

“I can’t regret being with you. How could I?”

“You should! You should.”

“All I can think of is you, and to see you kissing him. Happy? How the fuck can I be all right with this!?” He’s gripping your shoulders now. “I’ve never felt what I felt with you.”

“I don’t feel the same.” You’re speaking between sobs now, shaking your head as you hurt him more. “I never did, Nanami. I enjoyed you, I respect you… you’re handsome and perfect, I wanted to. I did. Wanted to love you like you love me, but what I feel isn’t enough for you.”

“How do you even know-”

“I’m in love with him, the undying love you think you feel. The need to constantly be with him, the consuming need in my heart. It’s for him, Nanami. I didn’t want you to be hurt more, but it’s true. I do.” Nanami’s eyes glimmer, and you hate yourself. “You deserve to be chosen. You do.”

“You’re foolish.”

“Maybe I am. But I love him. Despite it all, despite every terrible thing he did, I fall deeper every moment. I didn’t feel it for you, I felt… I felt affection, desire.”

“Just affection and desire?” He repeats, raising a brow.

“You’ll make someone happy. Someone who deserves all the love you have, and Nanami… you have to let me go.”

“Let you go?” His voice is broken, his handsome face just falling and you feel it like a punch in your stomach, the ties of your bodice tighter now, as if they’re strangling you. “Did this mean nothing to you?”

You shake your head, gloved fingers swiping at the hot sticky tears that fall. “No, it meant so very much to me, your kindness, your care… what we did however, I think I acted on impulse, I didn’t think it through. I was hurt. I should have never taken it as far as we did.”

He sighs now, emotions glimmering in his own gaze, cupping your face with one of those rough hands, thumb brushing a tear. “He is correct on one thing, I had a fault in this, I carried on with you. I let my desire cloud my judgement.”

“You have no fault here. He is merely upset, I’ve upset you both, hurt you both. I told you, it’s what I do.” Your shoulders shake with your cries, and he is tense now, shaking his head.

“No, I was at fault, you were so upset that day. I should have told you no, but I wanted you so badly. Then I wanted to make it right somehow, what I did. Do you know I would have given you everything? Anything you wanted?” You just nod, eyes closing, more tears falling. “It’s not what he can give but-”

“It is not about that, it never has been. I know you would.” You take his hand now, kissing it and resting your forehead on it. “It’s that I am not your person. Deep down, I think you already know.”

Nanami pauses, hand clutching your tightly, you feel his hurt through his every breath, and it stabs you and twists you in your heart. “I can’t just fall out of love with you. You can’t expect that.”

“I know. I know. But please, let it go. Please open your heart to someone who will not crush it. I’ll never forgive myself for hurting you.” Nanami gulps now, blinking rapidly, easing his hand down finally, still entwined with yours.

“You deserve better than him, I don’t care what you’ve done. I will let you live your life, you won’t see me again.” Your heart shatters into pieces as he backs away, knowing that someone you cared so much for is gone forever, but you know it’s what is best for him, you know you finally have done the right thing, ending it so he can move on.

But it hurts, fuck it hurts.

“Did you ever even care, I’m curious? Or was I just for amusement?” You sense his voice, he is more terse with how he speaks, and who can blame him?

“How can you say that! Yes I cared. But it wasn’t enough.”

“Just enough until he wanted you? Was it to get him to want you?” You’re shattering more at his words.

“You’re unexpectedly cruel right now.” You whisper, and he looks away now, hands clenching at his sides.

“I am curious about your motives, I mean no cruelty. Before I never see you again I’d like to know. If you used me to get him.”

“If anything I assumed it would make him hate me more, but no, I did it because you made me feel beautiful, desired, when I felt so unwanted. You made me feel special, seen and heard. You are a sweet, loving person, and of course I wanted to feel loved. But it shouldn’t have been at your expense. Why did you do it? Since we’re asking.” You say softly, his eyes lock back on you.

“Because I felt something for you, even that night we met.” His voice drops an octave. “Also, because I wanted to save you, to fix you somehow, you seem so very broken.”

“Fix me?” You sigh now, shaking your head. “I fear I’m no easy fix.”

“You certainly are not.” He takes your hand once more, you notice the blood on the backs of his knuckles. “I wanted to do right by you, I never meant to dishonor you, to just sleep with you on a whim.”

“I know you did. I never expect you to forgive me, but I hope you find happiness, I hope you find everything you deserve.” You say, and he has two tears fall, as he brings your hand higher towards his lips.

“I wanted you.” He kisses the backs of your fingers now, you can feel the gaze of Satoru behind you, Nanami’s eyes lock with his over your head now.

“I’m honored you did, I’m honored I knew you Nanami Kento.” You say softly, in between sniffles and cries. He tilts his head, a little softer, a little less angry, sandy blond hair falling just a bit over his furrowed brow.

“I will let you go, and wish you whatever happiness you wish in life. You deserve happiness, whether you think so or not, Duchess.”

“Th-thank you, I wish the same for you Mr. Nanami. Truly, with everything in me, I hope for your happiness.” Your voice is hoarse as you hold back further tears, and Mr. Nanami bows his head, finally stepping away.

“Farewell, Duchess.” He tips his hat to you, surprisingly still on his head after the fight with Satoru, and he walks away, past Satoru now, who is glaring at him with unbridled fury. “You don’t deserve her.” He says tersely.

“I know I don’t.” Satoru says, his own voice broken completely, and Nanami’s shoulders relax just a bit. “But I’ll do everything to keep her.”

“Then do good by her.” Nanami looks at you one more time, and there’s no soft smile, no sweet eyes, they’ve gone cold, emotionless, ending you further when he leaves with his friend. Satoru’s eyes catch yours, and he’s on you in mere moments, as you nearly collapse.

“I’m horrible, I’m terrible, I’m-”

“You’re just a girl. You’re just a human being. Stop it.” Satoru cups your face, and his hands feel so calming, his presence somehow soothes everything inside you, and it had for longer than you care to admit.

Even when he caused your panic attack, you loved his soothing touch, his words. Being held by him even when you hated him, despised him. Now he comforts you for losing your lover, something he should hate you for, but there is understanding in his gaze, in his eyes, blue and glimmering, a cheek swollen, blood on his perfect lips, which you caress softly.

“Do you hate me?” You whisper, and he shakes his had.

“No, how could I ever? How could I ever hate you for doing what I did, for being pushed to. Even when I said I did… I do not hold anything against you. Him though?” Satoru’s eyes narrow. “He’s so clearly wanting what I have.”

“He will move on. And be better for it.”

“No one is better without you, Princess.” His words melt you, then you’re assessing him, seeing the injuries.

“You’re hurt. We need to go home.” You say, and he grins suddenly, an insanely huge grin, splitting his lip further. “Be careful!”

“You said home.” He whispers, pulling you flush against him now. You laugh softly, shaking your head, arms wrapped around his neck.

“Aren’t you furious at me!? In this situation?”

“Oh I’m furious at him, I want to kill him with my bare fucking hands, but you saying that it’s your home? That overtakes damn near anything.” He picks you up in his arms, as you cling to him, dangling like you’re nothing, his madness fucking infectious, you start to smile yourself.

“I need to take care of these cuts, so yes, let’s go home.”

“You’re so oddly calm, Satoru.” You murmur later, delicately cleaning the wound on his lip, on his eyebrow with a little cloth. Satoru’s sitting on a chair in the living room, there is no longer a table, Satoru’s gotten rid of it and ordered another, a pleasant and amusing surprise earlier.

“I’m getting nursed by this sexy Princess right now. I’m content.” You snort, shaking your head, beginning to tape his slice on his forehead closed, he flinches just a bit, so you blow on it soothingly, earning his hands pressing against the nip of your waist, squeezing, eyes on your decolletage.

“Are you staring at my breasts!?”

“They’re in my face. Yes.” You roll your eyes. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, I am. I feel terrible for what I caused…”

“He’s not innocent, he is a grown man, and knows what he got into. I think you put too much guilt upon yourself.” Satoru’s tongue laps out at your skin, right against your collarbone, you feel your body tense at it, tummy clenching in desire.

“I hurt him.”

“I hurt you.” You look down at his perfect face, his brows together, lips pursed just so, and his endless stormy blue eyes. Every moment makes you ache, every second he stares at you, you feel yourself falling impossibly deeper.

“You did hurt me. I think I hurt you in response, however, at his expense. He brought up that I used him.”

“He clearly was in love with you, I saw it all over his face.” Satoru says, hands sliding down further, until his hands are on your outer thighs, fingers pressing in under the satin skirts. “I don’t blame him for punching me, I’m furious because I hate that he touched you, but I can’t blame him. I’d have done it too.”

“You would not have!”

“I would have for you. Why did you have to lose your virginity to a boxer, do you know how bad my ribs hurt?” He says with a glare, and suddenly you burst into laughter, as does he, hand raking through his silken white locks.

“Oh, Satoru… at least you have not slept with a boxer.”

“Or have I?” He’s grinning deviously.

“You’re ridiculous. If it makes you feel better, I regret it very much.” You get on your knees now, gently unbuttoning his tunic, checking his bruised abdomen, he winces a bit as your fingers brush against his rib cage.

“Do you regret him being your first? I thought you did not.” He’s brushing your hair now, as you press a cool patch against him, he exhales in relief.

“I regret it, even if I still do not think you deserved to be my first. I still hurt another person, and I… looking back I don’t believe I enjoyed it much.”

“Interesting take, considering you let me know how much you loved sex.” You flush now, looking back up at his gaze.

“I embellished, to rub it in. I wanted to hurt you. Like you hurt me. You brought a darkness out in me…”

“I know I did. I know.” Satoru takes the cold cloth from your hand, setting it down now, bending in his seat as you kneel between his spread thighs, brushing your hair back delicately. “I still hate him for touching you, for having you first. I only did not kill him because I love you so fucking much. I know you care for him.”

“I do care. He is not a bad person, Satoru, he’s a good person.”

“Perhaps he is, but do you know what I realized?” Satoru’s thumb traces your lip now, swollen from biting it so much.

“What is that?”

“He’s not in your heart.”

“No, he is not. It’s got a rather slutty and whorish Duke overtaking it.” Satoru raises a brow at that, your fingers are caressing delicately where he is bruised, over his perfect muscles, flexing as he sucks in a breath.

“Perhaps you should make it up, your former lover punching my pretty face.” You snort then. “You think I’m jesting, bratty girl?”

“Indeed, you are. You deserved a hit for being terrible.” Satoru reaches down now, unbuttoning his trousers, his hard, thick length slapping his belly button, and you feel heat pooling between your thighs.

“Open your mean little mouth.” He orders softly, you shift on your knees as he sits up, obediently opening your mouth, for him to grab your hair, shoving his cock inside of it. “Oh fuck… your mouth is so…”

“Mmm…” You’re moaning as he is, sucking on his cock and looking right into his eyes, the most heady thing, his huge hands enwrapping in your locks as you suck him greedily, feeling him hitting the back of your throat.

“Take all of it, Princess.” He whispers now, and you pull back with a pop, saliva dripping in strings from his pretty tip.

“All of it!?”

“Relax that throat, you can do it.” You struggle to breathe through your nose now, taking more and more of him with every sloppy stroke, now he’s fucking your face and throat, and you can’t stand how good it feels. He hisses then as you sink all the way down, throat bulging with him, his hand touches it now. “That’s it, slutty throat, she can take me.”

You press even deeper, feeling him stretch and burn your throat now, nose flush against the thin white patch of his hair, he’s whimpering now, your eyes are watering, but you continue, sucking him, over and over, cunt dripping wet as your hands brace on his thighs for stability. You feel him thickening now, as he bucks up into your throat, rougher and rougher.

“Th-that’s it… Princess you… s’good, f-fuck…” He's falling apart, using your throat to bring himself closer and closer. “Bet he didn’t use you like this, bet he was all sweet, hmm?”

You glare and he’s lost it, cupping your face and moving more and more, mumbling incoherently.

“I’ll use your bratty fucking mouth, so you can’t talk, what do you think?” He slaps your cheek gently, you’re moaning more against him now, urging him on. “Fuck every memory out of your pretty head.”

You want to tell him, they’re already long gone, that all there is now is him, even when he’s speaking like this, it just makes you want him more, the duality of him, so dirty but sweet. Fucking you so brutally one moment to worship your entire body the next, calling you a beautiful Princess then a slutty brat. You want it all, you want every bit of the Duke.

“Going to drink up all my seed, aren’t you? Greedy little whore.” He mutters now, fucking your throat harder, you gasp for breath as he pummels it, reaching down to touch yourself, you’re so wet and needy. “No.”

Satoru yanks your fingers up like he did last time, leaving you to whine out, as he sucks on them greedily, continuing to pump your mouth.

“She is mine, only I touch her, unless I tell you to.” Satoru moans louder now, hips stuttering. “You’re so wet already I bet. Think I should touch you?”

You shake your head, sucking harder, saliva and precum dripping down his veiny cock, and his eyes are dilated, so dark, eyes lidded as he watches you suck him, throat hurting so bad tears are pouring. But you’re wetter now, grinding against nothing, wanting him so badly you can’t think, like he is fucking your brain, like he has been since you first kissed him truly.

“If you take all this cum and swallow I’ll touch you, greedy little Princess. Can you do it?” You simply suck harder, glaring, and he smirks. “Such a good- fuck!”

Satoru’s pumping now, all his hot gooey cum pouring down your throat, you swallow it hungrily. His cock slows now, backing away, throbbing as you swirl your tongue around it, looking into his eyes as you take him all. You’re gulping all of his seed down, lapping more and more up out of the little hole on his tip, now he’s panting, hands shaking.

“Oh my… you…” Satoru pulls out with a suctioned pop, his cock glistening with all of your spit. “Open up.”

You eagerly do, tongue out, and he moans.

“Fuck you took it all. Perfect, pretty, slutty Princess.” He picks you up off your knees now, bringing you against him, between his legs, cock still semi hard as it falls against his pelvis, nestled against his white pubic hair.

“Did I make it up to you, Duke?” You tease softly, coughing just a bit and rubbing your now sore throat.

“Oh you did. Took me so good, you’re so good for me. I want to be all you ever think about, I want to consume your fucking mind.” He whispers now, standing and looming so tall over you now, his shirt half opened, his pants undone, hair falling so messy.

“You stupid man.” He glares, as you do. “You think you don’t already consume me!? You think you’re not my every waking thought? You think you’re not my madness, my obsession?”

He gasps now, eyes darting back and forth across your face, hands squeezing your head so tight you wince. “You feel it too? The… insanity?”

“I feel it, Satoru. I’m insane for you, insane to be with you. You are all that is here.” You put his hand on your head. “And all that is here.” Now you put his hand on your heart. “And… all that is here.” You take it and press it lower, your lower tummy now, earning his molten gaze, slender nostrils flaring. “All I ever want is you.”

“You’re all I will ever want. You’re everything to me. Please, please stay, please…” He’s tearing up now, and you nod, feeling his every emotion.

“I’m not going anywhere, foolish Duke.”

“God I love you.” He slams his lips on yours finally, and you feel it, the blood pouring from his lips, you back away carefully.

“Your wound-”

“Look at you, covered with me.” He moans now, swiping the blood across your lips, you feel it so warm and you taste it, like copper.

“You’re fucking insane.” He smirks now, leaning forward again.

“I am, but so are you, Princess. Aren’t you?” You just nod weakly, and he’s kissing you again, taking over every part of your body and soul, you tremble as his tongue entwines with yours, tasting himself off your lips, now mixed with the bit of blood still falling. “You’re mine, all mine. Say it, Princess.”

“You just fucked my throat is that not enough?” He laughs, picking you up, wincing. “You should not, you’re hurt.”

“Fuck all that, I care not, I just want you to say it.” Satoru is now carrying you over to the chaise lounge in the room, laying you down, sliding up your skirts inch by inch, making you tremble. “Say that you’re mine.”

“I am yours.” You whisper, earning his two fingers sinking easily into your slick cunt, he moans at it, as you cry out weakly, hips arching up for him.

“Feel her, soaked from sucking me. Has anyone got you this wet?” He leans over you, fucking your gummy walls with his fingers, in and out, bringing you to the brink of pleasure so quickly, goosebumps scatter across every inch of your skin. You cling to his open shirt, shaking your head. “Only me, then say it.”

“Only you… and you… have you cum so hard… for anyone?” You demand, yanking him down and glaring, he shakes his head now, blue eyes on fire, touching you as much as those long fingers do.

“Never, no one compares to you. They are nothing. Nothing.” You cry now, as his words overtake you, words you need, words you crave. He’s slamming his lips back down your cheek, your neck, as his elbow bends and he fucks you with his fingers, loud in the manor with the squelching wetness of your cunt.

“I love you, Satoru.” You say between tears, he moans at that, forehead resting on yours, one hand cupping your face as his other presses up, hitting your spot, your back arches and you scream out.

“Beautiful, fucking love you. Love how you feel. Cum on my fingers, slutty Princess, please. Soak them.” He whispers against your lips, and his thumb hits your neglected clit, you shatter. “That’s it, good girl, good girl.”

“Satoru!” You scream now, burying your head against his chest as his fingers ease, you’re spasming around them, gushing arousal everywhere, body on fire with pleasure, so intense you feel like you’re floating. He sucks on his fingers, moaning now, before unlacing your bodice, revealing your breasts, which bounce out for his hungry eyes.

“All mine, every bit of you.” He says, and you descend further into the madness that is Duke Satoru Gojo, when he is suckking on a peak of your breast, looking at you under lowered lashes, mouth latched on tightly as he flicks his tongue, fingers curling up on your spot and hitting again, again, again.

You’re a mess as he’s sliding up your skirts, fingers circling your engorged clitoris now, your hands cling to his broad shoulders as he’s pressing you into the chaise lounge, firm cushions against your back, his hot mouth on your neck, suckling hard, leaving a mark that’ll be there for days. He’s taking you over now, all of you, and you never want him to let go.

Your breathing is erratic, and your eyes are rolling back as his hand works you, you’re so wet his fingers slip, while his teeth are sharp, grazing your skin and bruising, leaving a trail of his marks. “Want to mark you everywhere.”

“Mnh!”

“Everywhere. Your body belongs to me.” He says then, you feel him hard and hot against your thigh, and fuck you’re lost in him, lost in the feeling of his hand, lost in the sound of his moans in your ear, the breath tickling you and just serving to make your desire more and more intense.

Satoru kisses your cheek now, so sweetly, before he heads down to your collarbone, his hand moving faster as it works you so well, his thumb pressing harder, biting the thin skin over your chest, hurting and bruising you instantly. You’re so close, so close to the edge, your toes curling in your delicate slippers, fingers clinging now in his silky hair.

“Cum again for me, Princess, let me feel it, let me hear it, I want it all for myself.” He whispers, and you do, of course you do. Your orgasm hits so hard your hips buck back, getting so overstimulated, mouth wide open in a scream.

As your orgasm subsides, his hand slows, and he kisses you deeply, his tongue dancing with yours, cupping your face. “Satoru, please…”

“Please what, slutty girl?” He hums those words, taking his fingers off you and sucking on them, cheeks hollowing.

“Fuck me. Please.” You’re begging, but you truly do not care, you crave him so badly.

“Fuck you, hmm?” He teases, you pout. “You’re cute.”

“Satoru! I sucked you off so good, you promised.”

“You’re impatient.” Satoru’s stripping you of your dress now, then your undergarments and chemise, even your slippers, leaving you bare for his hungry gaze. “Let me take my time with you.”

You obey, when he’s looking at you like that, when his hands are trailing down your body, every inch, then you gasp as he flips and bends you over, pulling you up on your knees, making you tremble. You’ve not been on your knees like this, though the desk was quite similar, you peer back at him, he’s kneeling on the lounge, head low, huge hands spreading your ass apart.

“Satoru we haven’t… um…”

“I can see all of your pretty cunt like this.” He whispers, now spreading the puffy lips of your pussy, and the softness of his kisses up your thighs turn to something more urgent as he moves up to your inner thigh, and you feel his hot breath against your entrance, making you jerk and him chuckle. “So pretty.”

“Ngh!” You cry out when he kisses the slit of your cunt, his tongue darting out to taste you, making you jolt. His mouth kisses down to your clit, his tongue circling and flicking, making you gasp and whine out. “Toru!”

“That’s it, let me taste you, Princess. Let me taste how much you loved swallowing me.” He whispers, your eyes roll back at how good he feels, at what his fucking words do to you. Now Satoru’s huge hands hold your thighs open as you try to clamp them shut from the intensity.

You're so sensitive from his earlier ministrations you can barely stand his little teasing flicks, each one sends sparks through your body, you’re so weak you damn near fall apart from just a few, then when he’s burying his face into your cunt you’re shattering, back arching, ass pressing against his face.

“Oh, that’s it, arch f’me.”

"S’too much!” You cry out, but he just smiles against you, you feel the upturn of his lips.

“Just getting started, Princess. Let me reward you, you took my cock in that throat so good.” Satoru doesn't relent, no his tongue working you faster, his teeth grazing your sensitive flesh, when he bites down on your clit, the pain and pleasure so fucking blinding you cum right then.

“F-fuck!” You scream out, gushing arousal all down his face, you can hear him drinking you up, hear him slurping you as if he needs every damn drop.

You're on the edge again, and he knows it. He takes your clit into his mouth, sucking hard as his fingers slide into your wetness. You're so close, you can feel it building, and just when you think you can't handle anymore, he slams his fingers into you, curling them just so, and you're falling over the edge again, three of them stretching you beyond your limits.

“Please, please, please!”

“So desperate for my cock, hmm? Needy, slutty girl.” You just whimper, arching your ass out for more.

“Please!”

“Cum once more, I’ll give it to you.” He says softly, teeth nipping an ass cheek as he curls those three fingers, making your pussy gush when the orgasm hits, and you’re shaking violently, pussy pulsing around him. “Oh, you’re so ready.”

“Will you fuck me Satoru!? Or will you keep running your- ah!” Duke Gojo shoves his long cock in you then, curved tip smashing your cervix, making you shatter, cumming all over his cock so quickly, he laughs softly, hands pressing into the dimples of your back.

“Fuck you’re easy.”

“Just… just… fuck me.” Satoru moans then, slamming his cock into you, in this position it’s so deep you can hardly stand it, you’re already drooling when his tall body leans over you, overtaking you, long fingers of one hand wrapping your little throat as he fucks you so deep. “T-Toru…”

“Love that name from your perfect fucking mouth.” Satoru shoves two fingers in your mouth now, two that had been so deep in your cunt, you suck yourself off him, as he fucks into you harder, long, slow, powerful strokes that wreck you.

Satoru raises a knee now, planting a foot on the floor as leverage to fuck your pussy deeper, so deep it hurts, but you crave it, you need it, drooling all over his long fingers as his cock wrecks you. Your walls flutter all around his thick cock, dripping down his length, his balls smacking that overstimulated clit as he wrecks you, stretches you, fills you.

There’s nothing but him, you cannot even fathom that there ever was anything but this, as badly as you want to resent him, to feel hurt, it’s all too good, you with him, you around him, him inside you. And he’s not just inside your pussy, no he’s in you completely, feel him in your stomach, in your throat damn near, stroking your entire body with each thrust.

Your breasts are shaking with each one, jiggling just so, as your ass jiggles when his pelvis smashes against it, and now he removes his fingers, bringing you to your knees, choking your throat tighter. He’s looking right at you as you’re close again, squeezing the oxygen out of your throat, but Satoru has always done that, he’s always taken your fucking breath away.

“Feel s’fucking perfect, perfect pussy, perfect body.” He grips your tit with his other hand, squishing it now before smacking it, you cry out in pleasure. “You like it, me ruining you, don’t you?”

You can’t answer, you just arch up for more, raising and lowering your thighs, sinking your pussy down onto his cock, while his hands explore every inch of you. Your head falls back against his chest, hair splaying softly across it, Satoru should be sore, he’s been hit, but he’s fucking into you without a grunt of pain, only groans of pleasure while your slick pools.

You’re a sticky, sloppy little mess for him, and he relishes in it, quiet chuckles and then soft cries in each of your ears when he presses you back to your knees, pulling your hips up so he can fuck you better, harder, deeper. Impossibly deep, you hear the smacks of his skin while he does, while he relentlessly fucks you, tip dragging against that spongy spot in your walls.

“Fuck look at you.” Satoru smacks your ass cheeks, each one, over and over, marking them with his hand prints, thickening in your cunt now. “This won’t do, I need to see your face when you cum.”

Satoru has you flipped on your back so quickly you’re breathless, he’s laying over you, sweat dripping on his face, his blood dried against his pretty pink lips, eyes mad as they stare at you. He grabs your thigh, sliding it over his broad shoulder, the sole of your foot pressing into his collar bone, your legs are too fucking short for his long body.

“You are mine. Say it, Princess.” He says now, tip brushing your swollen clit, you gasp at it, hands sliding up to cup his face.

“I am yours, my Duke. Yours.” He moans, shoving his cock in your aching little hole again, even slicker and easier entry, his head thrown back, you watch the strong muscles of his throat and shoulders as he works over you, moaning. “You are mine, say it.”

His eyes lock, his expression serious, leaning lower, cock rocking against just that spot, making you tremble, jaw locking in pleasure. “Oh, I am yours, Princess, all fucking yours. I’ll do anything to keep you.”

“Oh… I want to stay…” You blink back your emotion when he lays firm over you, your breasts squished under his firm chest.

“If you did not, I’d chain you up in my dungeon. Keep you.” You scowl, and he grins, taking a breath. “What, I’d still fuck you all the time.”

“Y-you’re…stupid… ah!” Satoru fucks you so deep and hard you can’t tell where he ends and you begin, it’s all too heady and overwhelming, when his eyes lock on yours, and you’re moaning so loud with him.

“Keep your attitude and find out.” You clamp your cunt down now, laughing breathless as he lets out a strangled moan, pulling back. “Slutty brat.”

“Arrogant manwhore. C’mere.” You yank his mouth down to yours, and you kiss so sloppy, tongues entwined as you clutch his white hair, as he rolls his hips and groans into your mouth.

“Where do you want me to cum, Princess? Want me to fill your greedy little cunt up again?” You nod shyly, he smirks, even as his cock wrecks you, this motherfucker just smirks. “Fill your stomach up?”

He presses it now. “Yes, yes, yes.”

Satoru exhales now, pressing your leg up high and pounding your cunt so good, over and over, stretching you to fit him. “Made f’me, made… say it.”

“For you.” You finish weakly, finally he’s pulsing inside you, thickening and pouring all that hot gooey cum that had been in your throat in your cunt instead, he’s crying out as he does, mouth wide open in an O, as you cum just from feeling his hot seed coat your walls, shaking as you grind up against him.

“Feel so good around me, god you’re… I’ve never…” Satoru’s murmuring little nonsensical words in your ear, brushing your hair back as he bites your neck and groans, pumping his cum further and further in your sore cunt, that’s milking him for everything.

“I… I… love you.” You whisper now, breathy and weak, and he exhales, tickling your skin with it, leaning up just a bit and cupping your face, feeling your aftershocks gripping him.

“I will never deserve you, Princess. But guess what?”

“Wh-what?”

“I’ll fuck you so good you forget.” He smirks now, pushing his cum deeper, but your cunt is already making most of his cum drip back down his cock, his balls, down on this fancy chaise lounge.

“Conceited…”

“Can’t even finish your sentence. You love my cock too much.” You snort now, rolling your hips, watching him gasp.

“You love my pussy too much.” You counter.

“Oh I do.” He kisses you again, deeply, over and over, brushing his hands down your skin softly, he exhales now, easing as he studies you. “Does it scare you?”

“What, Satoru? The feelings we share?”

“No… if you’re with child… Do you think I’ll be a terrible father?” He’s emotional, you feel it, radiating off him. You shake your head, swallowing carefully.

“No, not at all. Satoru, if you do not wish to have children yet, we can stop that part, there are things I’ve heard I can take… to not become pregnant.”

He shakes his head, stroking your cheek, still nestled inside you, softer now, your body is wrapped around him. “I’m just terrified. I want to give you anything you wish for, anything at all.”

“But do not go against everything to do so.” You say softly, your hands caressing up and down his strong back. “You need not sacrifice everything for me, because of your guilt.”

“It is not my guilt that craves this.” He presses a hand on your tummy, hot and burning against your slick skin. “It’s something far more primal. But when I have a moment to think, I am still in fear.”

“Then we can stop for now-”

“But do you want children?”

“Yes, but… I can wait. This is new, and we are still young.”

“You sacrificed too much already.” Satoru’s voice is hoarse and emotional when he eases out of you, fluids dripping down between you both.

“I know you will be an amazing father, but I can wait. Do you want to give it time and see if we…”

“Could we?” You nod. “How soon would you know?”

“I will get my monthlies in a few days time, so soon we will know. We can be careful until then. I do not want you to be a father before you’re ready.”

“I just don’t deserve any of you.” Satoru whispers, kissing your forehead now, over and over. “I will be the best father I can be if you are. But I want to become better before I father a child.”

“You already are becoming better.” You smile up at him now, and he sighs, kissing your lips over and over gently, as you daydream about it, about a baby with him, it’s too soon surely, but it make you ache.

The next week

Opera house

“Satoru, stop!” You hiss out a whisper as you both are sitting in a box seat, up high watching the opera below. Satoru’s hand is slipping up your thigh under your skirts as you’re staring into the little binoculars, watching the depiction of Hamlet, your thighs clench with desire as he brushes up and down your skin.

He leans in close, mouth brushing your ear. “Then why are you so hot for me, hmm, Princess?”

His hand slips up higher, making you flush in the dark theater, you feel yourself gushing and he’s not even near you, so much it’s inane. You actually pause just a bit, as your tummy clenches, and you feel some twinge of pain, all while your husband, the Duke Gojo, has his fingers slipping higher and higher. You all had this box practically alone, aside from your parents and Satoru’s, and Suguru and Shoko.

Suguru and Shoko were actually courting now, which made you so happy, though Satoru had been so disturbed by the idea. Eventually he came to, since he no longer has to worry about his friend kissing you of course. They are leaning close, whispering and laughing softly, no one is really paying attention to the quiet movements Satoru is making.

But…

“I must… excuse me.” You whisper, earning a concerned glint in his bright blue eyes, you rush out of the box as you start to feel it, something pouring from you now, and it’s a tell tale sign.

You rush into a room, feeling Satoru’s steps behind you, cursing as you lift up your skirts and see it then, the stain of blood dripping, indicating you were indeed not with child. Satoru and you had been careful all week, as you both truly want to make it work, you want to bring a child into your home when Satoru feels ready. So why then, are you devastated!?

Why are you sobbing now, frantically grabbing several handkerchiefs, pressing them against you as you hunch over, tears pouring down your cheeks. You should be relieved, as this was too soon, Satoru and you were just now finally being good together, open and loving, and you know he was apprehensive, so you should be happy right?

You can’t stop the sobs as Satoru enters the quiet room, looking at you with concern, locking the door behind him when he sees you. His thin white brows go together now, striding in long steps to you, holding you by your shoulders and looking down at you now, realization hitting his face.

“Are you alright?” He asks softly, stormy blue eyes searching your face, eyes that you fall deeper into every moment you breathe. You quietly look down now, where your hand still presses.

“I am not with child. That is good… right?” You whisper, tears hot and burning your eyes as they fall more and more. Satoru sighs now, shaking his head, cupping your face with one of his hands.

“I would have been happy either way. Terrified but happy.” He murmurs, instantly relieving you, the tension in your shoulders dropping as you lean against him, crying on his dark blue vest as he strokes your back. “You wanted to be.”

“I guess I did, I did not truly know until now. Satoru I’m sorry-”

“No, no. Of course you want this, everything about you wants to be a mother, it is I who am afraid, it’s I who should give you it.”

“No, it’s fine, I swear. I just need a moment.” Satoru kisses you then, passionately, over and over, even as you’re holding the cloths against you, he’s tracing his hands down your waist, over the burgundy evening gown you’re in.

“I’m really just enjoying you for now, all of you. Maybe I’m a little selfish for wanting just you longer.” He murmurs against your lips.

“You’re selfish alright, whore of a man.” You tease, sniffling, and he laughs then, nodding a bit.

“Indeed I was planning to finger you right in the theater. You’re so dramatic, ruining my fun.”

“Oh!” You shove at him playfully, the cloths dropping, you panic as he picks them up, pressing them back against you, his lips parted now. “I’m so sorry! It’s so very embarrassing.”

“It is not at all. Let’s go home.”

“But-”

“Home.” His husky voice orders. “You are not merely just upset, you’re clearly uncomfortable, I’ll not have you sitting for another two hours. Now agree or I’m carrying you out and causing a spectacle.”

The thought of him carrying you in front of everyone just makes you smile, and he snorts, rolling his eyes.

“You’ve hurt your ankle, go along with it.” He says now, picking you up in his arms, and just as the intermission is started, Shoko comes up with concern, as does Suguru, and Satoru’s mom.

“What is wrong dear?” Satoru’s mom asks softly.

“She hurt her ankle, Mama. I’m taking her back home.” Satoru’s hands tighten just a bit as your mother walks up now, she has said nothing to you since he told her to leave you be, a blissful reprieve.

Your hands clutch his suit nervously, he feels it, the tension in you, as he holds you close against his chest. She says nothing however, turning her attention elsewhere. Of course she doesn’t care, but it’s better than what would previously occur. Your dad frowns. “Does she need a doctor?”

“No need, I inspected it, she’s just clumsy.” Suguru and Shoko share a look, then raise their brows at you as everyone says their farewells to you both.

“Clumsy hmm?” Suguru suggests, and Shoko laughs behind her hand.

“An excuse for you two to go back to your chambers.” Shoko says, and Satoru feigns a gasp.

“How dare you, scandalous woman! Sugu, get your betrothed under control.”

“Not his betrothed yet.” Shoko nudges Suguru with her shoulder playfully, her brown eyes assessing your face carefully. “Are you alright? You look as if you’ve been crying…” She gets serious then.

“I promise I’m fine. Um… feminine things.” You whisper now, and she nods quickly, Suguru smiles at you both.

“And Satoru’s being a gentleman? Never thought I’d see the day.” Suguru pats you on the head affectionately with a little smile. “All right we will see you two for dinner later this week, yes?”

“I can’t wait!” You say with a grin.

“Take good care of her.” Shoko says, and they head back to the show, Satoru’s nuzzling your cheek as he holds you so close to him, against his chest.

You catch a glimpse then, of Satoru’s old mistress Catherine, and she smiles at you nervously, looking at you both, she’s with a Lord that you cannot remember the name of. Satoru tenses, looking away and walking quickly, but you give her a little wave that she returns, as Satoru carries you to the carriage that is sitting out front of the opera house.

You shiver a bit in the cool night as he brings you in the carriage, sitting you sideways on his lap, making you tense. “Satoru…”

“How can you wave to her?” He asks, his voice hoarse, your eyes catch his in the night as the carriage gently rocks you both, his big hands pressing on your back and tummy as he holds you firm.

“She is a sweet girl.”

He laughs darkly then. “After how I carried on with her? How on earth can you just act so calm.”

You glare now, pulling off him, only for him to yank you back. “Because I will not let our past issues define us.”

“You should hate her. You should hate me!” You glare once more now, continuing to try to pull off him. “Do you remember? That dinner…”

“Yes, of course I do. But I don't want to!” You feel the tears start again, and he gulps, shaking his head, wracking a hand through his hair, making it all disheveled as it gleams in the night.

“You want a baby with someone like me? How!”

“You’re more than your past!”

“Stop being so fucking forgiving, so fucking nice. Will you… be angrier!? Punish me!” He’s shaking you gently, you see it then, the two streaks on his cheeks. “I hate me so much right now, seeing her. I could almost forget how horrible I was, the things I did, things you don’t even know.”

Your chest heaves with your emotions, taking you over. “I don’t need to know more than I do. What, Satoru, positions you two were in!? I care not, we were not in love with each other then. We are now.”

“I can’t forgive myself yet. Not for those cruel words, not for flaunting her around and saying you were adequate when you were so beautiful.” You cup his face now, struggling to control the sobs that are escaping, as you remember the pain. “Do not comfort me, damned brat.”

“You comforted me when my former lover punched you. Satoru we are both not perfect, fuck you’re far from it.”

“You have one lover, I can’t escape all of mine.” He leans his head back against the carriage seat, you try once more to pull away, earning his icy glare. “Stop trying to move, brat.”

“Your brooding is annoying.” He laughs then, even through his emotion, you smile tremulously. “You’re feeling so sorry for yourself.”

“No, sorry for you.” His hands yank at your hair, bobby pins falling every which way, making it bounce out of its coif, as his lips are barely against yours, you feel his every breath, shifting against him now. “You saw us, I remember.”

“I did.” You whisper back, and he lets out a breath, clinging to you, hand enwrapped in your hair, your own gloved hands cling to him.

“Even then, you were all I could think of, imagining your perfect body, your perfect pussy, how your face would look as I pleased you. Fuck I wanted you even then, and I never told you. I told you lies.” He presses his lips against yours, you’re thrown even further against him as the carriage jostles on a patch of dirt outside, soon you’re hearing the pattering of light rain.

It’s just you and Satoru, a man who did those things, they still hurt you, but you’re trying to move past it, but you see it now, it tortures him more than it tortures you, the pain of hurting you, of hurting someone he loves. You watch the toll it’s taking when he pulls back, caressing your face gently with long fingers.

“You wanted me then?” You ask, and he laughs without humor, nodding, pressing his lips against each cheek, sticky from your drying tears.

“I wanted you then, but I didn’t deserve you, I still don’t. I don’t deserve you being so kind, so sweet to me. I don’t deserve to look at your pretty face every morning, as if I’m in some goddamn dream.”

“I’ll decide what you deserve. I want you Satoru, I chose you.” He rests his head against your collarbone now.

“There will be more obstacles, more women. More… problems. I am not worth-”

“You’re worth everything to me. Now shut your mouth.” He glares, earning your grin now.

“Excuse me?”

“Shut your bloody mouth. Whiny man.” His hands press deep on your waist, and you’re giggling through your tears.

“You insolent brat. If not on your monthlies I’d beat your backside.” You smile now, snuggling against him, feeling desire hot and heavy.

“If not for them I’d love to be punished. I’m afraid I’m still very…”

“Slutty.” He finishes, with a grin finally, you scoff, shaking your head. “You want to be fucked even now, don’t you?”

“N-no! That would be scandalous. I could always please you though.” You suggest, hand trailing down his abdomen, as the carriage comes to a stop, and now you’re both kissing, tongues entwining, just the thought of pleasing him makes you undeniably sensitive, throbbing even.

Satoru has you inside and undressing you before you can think, inside his bed chambers now, you’re blushing then, shaking your head. “You can’t see me right now…”

“Hush, wife.” Satoru lays you down on the bed, on your back, naked now, caressing your bare breasts as he kisses down your neck. You gasp as his thumbs brush over a nipple, bringing it taut.

“Satoru, what are you thinking?”

“Thinking my wife is a wanton little brat, who wants my cock even now.” His whisper just edges you on, and you’re arching your back.

🩸Period Scene Begins- scroll down if you don't like🩸

“Do not tease me so! Let me just suck you off- Mmm!” Satoru’s kissing down your neck, sliding his jacket off as he does, you hastily unbutton his dress shirt, looking at him nervously, curiously, flush decorating your cheeks and neck, while he peppers you with kisses all over your breasts, your collarbone, your neck, his hands slipping down your thighs.

“Do you want me, Princess?” He asks huskily, lidded gaze when he pulls back, undoing his trousers, and you bite your lip nervously, sitting up, only for him to press you back down. “Not sucking me, do you want me inside you?”

“That’s… not what is done and madness… and…” Satoru has slid a towel from his nightstand now, lifting your ass and propping it right under you, smirking down as he leans up on his arms, you gasp when you feel his mushroomed tip kissing your soaking wet entrance. “Mmm!”

“She’s so hot for me, fuck.” He groans now, leaning on one elbow, putting your leg over his hip, your heel pressing into the strong muscles of his lower back. “Do you want me to fuck you, yes or no Princess?”

“But I’m…” You look down, squeaking, seeing the bright red blood on his cock, on your inner thighs. “I…” You cling to his bare skin, arching up now, eyes locking, watching his cheeks dust pink with desire for you. “I want you.”

He moans now, kissing, pressing into you, without any play it would hurt but you’re so wet with all the blood and desire he sinks in, gasping as he fills you, the warm liquid acting as lubricant, coating Satoru’s cock in red. He pulls back and you look at it, but his eyes just watch your face, caressing it, shoving his cock back inside you, your back arches.

“You’re so tight… holy…” He’s slipping further inside you as it starts to feel so good, you can’t even be embarrassed, by the blood mixing with his precum dripping on this towel, not when it feels so good. Not when the tension in your tummy is easing with every stroke, and he’s kissing you, crying out into your lips.

You cry out back, clinging to him as he’s working his cock inside your tight entrance, she’s greedy and hungry for more of him, and when his tip starts hitting your cervix, you fall apart, gushing cum all over him, mixing with the bright red. His tongue devours your mouth as he fucks into you so slow, so good, deep strokes, fucking you through your orgasm and pushing into another.

“Satoru!” You cry out, desperately, your hands slipping down to his strong muscles of his back to grip his ass, sinking him in more and more. “It feels so good, oh my-ah!”

His eyes are dilated now, as he’s fucking into you, slamming your cervix, you hear the squishing sounds as the blood flows, pooling between you both, but he doesn’t care at all, and neither do you. You can’t remember even hurting now, your tummy has relaxed so much, being filled with him. He eases back on his knees, hands on your hips, watching his bulge move your tummy.

You watch with him, seeing the creamy ring at the base of his cock mix with you, watching Satoru’s perfect abdomen coated with light trickles of your blood, his strong hand presses your tummy now, giving you so much pressure you scream out.

“Look at me inside you. Filling you.” Satoru’s eyes are mad now, sweat dripping down his perfect chin as he presses your thigh up high, feeling his cock deep in your pelvis.

“It’s s’good… th-thank you…” You whisper, eyes rolling back, as he grabs your waist, bringing your cunt down harder on his length.

“I don’t want you to be sad. I want… you… cumming…” He’s huffing now, tip dragging on that spot, and you do just that, screaming out your pleasure, as he fucks you harder, faster, overtaking your every sense.

“L-love you… sorry I… was… wish you…” You’re nonsensical, he’s tensing a bit, but he nods now, as he works over you, pumping even deeper, face resting an inch from yours.

“No saying sorry. Oh my God I wanna fill you up with me.” He whispers, and you crave it, desire it more than anything.

“Fill me then.” You beg now. “Please, Toru, please…”

He slams his lips on yours, pumping your pussy full of him, and you’re so full, with his cum, with your arousal, the blood dripping and mixing, you’re a trembling mess as he does, as you feel him release in you after a week of not. “God it feels so good, fuck you feel so… fuck I love this…”

Satoru’s crying out now, clinging to your body so tightly you can barely breathe, and you’re trembling from aftershocks, dizzy and weak, as you gently brush his shoulders with your hands. He leans up, eyes dark now, tracing the line of your jaw with his fingertips. You both stare at each other carefully.

“I’m terrified, but I want it. Want you round with me.” He murmurs, only making your pussy throb again, earning his hiss, as he pushes in once more. “You’re maddening, intoxicating, like some drug.”

“Me a drug!? You are the drug.” You kiss him deeply, over and over, and he smiles now as he looks at you. “What is it?”

“You’re so pretty like this. All cock drunk.” You glare and he chuckles. “It’s quite fetching on you, slutty bride.”

“Oh you’re so annoying! And perverted!”

“Says the woman with cum and blood dripping down her thighs.” His hushed words make you tremble, as he eases out finally, and you squeak, earning his laugh. “It does not bother me, Princess.”

“Are you sure?” You ask softly, touching your tummy. “My cramps are all but gone somehow.”

“They are?” You nod shyly. “Then we must always do it whenever you cramp, to help, you know.”

“Oh my… as if you couldn’t get freakier. Slutty Duke.” He snorts, cleaning up your mess now, but it’s truly too much of a mess. “I’m afraid I need to bathe…”

“I’ll have them draw a bath for us.”

🩸Period scene OVER 🩸

Soon you’re in Satoru’s arms, in the scalding hot water, his hands are dripping wet as they slip up and down your skin, kissing your neck gently, making you laugh as it tickles. You feel such a bliss, even knowing you’re not with child yet, there is much time and you are enjoying him far, far too much. He’s humming something softly, making you a little curious.

“What’s that song?” You ask.

“Something I’m composing. About a demonic little succubus.”

“Oh, I’m jealous!”

“Mmm, you know it’s you. No one else would make me compose a song.” Satoru’s hands rest on your tummy gently. “You addle my mind.”

“You have fucked my mind away I’m afraid.” He snorts in laughter, burying his head against your neck, his soaking white hair dripping against your cheek. “It’s fine if I’m not with child for a while, I’m sorry I reacted like that. I don’t want to pressure you into this.”

“There’s no pressure, I’ll second guess myself until it happens, and when it happens, I’ll worry I’m not enough.” You exhale, turning and looking up at him, reaching behind you to cup his face.

“You are enough. I promise.” Satoru moans softly, kissing you over and over.

“We could have had this, from the beginning, and not have had… others interfere with it. It’s all my fault.” You cannot find the proper words to soothe him, you just kiss him again.

“Just enjoy the moment.” He nods then, hand taking your face over, shoving his tongue deeper and deeper into your mouth, more passionate with every stroke.

“He could have never handled you. Too freaky.” He says against your lips, wiggling his brows.

“Me!?”

“Yes you. Imagine, he’d probably run in fright.”

“Oh you’re ridiculous, it was your idea!”

“Mmm, and I wanna go again.” He nips your shoulder. “I can never, ever get enough of you, I swear.”

“I cannot either, Toru.”

Three days Later

The Royal Palace

“I can’t believe we’re meeting the King!” You whisper to Satoru now, and he just smiles at you, as you all wait in the decadent hall to be introduced. King Sukuna had just taken over for his twin brother who had passed away, and not much was known about him yet.

“I hear he’s a dick.” Satoru mentions, you laugh but then quickly quiet as others around you both stare at you. “So improper.”

“Oh hush, you! I can’t believe he’s granting us an audience.”

“I’m a Duke, you’re a Duchess, of course he is. Now relax, or I’ll get very jealous, you so excited for another.” You glare up at him, and he’s grinning so big, it warms your heart, it warms everything, to see him so happy, so lit up.

You adore him so much.

It’s quiet now as the King walks in, he’s joined by his younger sister, Princess Uraume, who has short white hair and is lovely in an ethereal sort of way that’s entrancing. King Sukuna himself is tall and broad, with a giant smirk and shocking light pink hair. He’s so big it’s intimidating, his sister is so tiny next to him, but then you notice who is with her, as a lady-in-waiting.

Your heart stops right in your chest, Satoru’s hand grips you so tightly you can scarcely breathe, as King Sukuna looks at you, up and down, taking his time with each inch, making you almost forget who is with his sister. She looks at you, her eyes, your eyes almost, in shock as she meets your gaze.

It’s like looking in a goddamn mirror.

“Duchess, it’s an honor to drink in your beauty, as beautiful as everyone has said across the land.” King Sukuna says, and you rip your eyes off her, as she and Satoru glare at each other. King Sukuna kisses the back of your hand, breath hot on your skin, looking up at you with dark brown eyes, almost crimson.

“Your Grace, it is my honor.” You manage to whisper back, curtseying low over his hand, earning his chuckle.

“No need for such formalities.” He does not let go of your hand, lewdly staring at you with a brow raised, then looking at Satoru, who’s frozen like a statue in shock, as he can’t rip his angry gaze off the woman who looks just like you. “Ah, the resemblance is uncanny, is it not? There must be a relation?”

“There must be. Hello there.” You say to her now, and she smirks, cruelly in fact, assessing you.

“Adelia. Hello your Grace.” She says, her voice is nothing like yours, it’s cold, it’s calculated, as is her entire demeanor.

“And Princess Uraume, hello.” You curtsey to her, she nods just a bit, staring at you curiously as well.

“Greetings, Duchess.” She says softly, and you finally look at Satoru, who squeezes the glass in his hand so hard it shatters, making the room go quiet.

Your heart is breaking as you watch him, as you feel his tension, and suddenly it’s as if everything could go wrong, your short found happiness. What if he still loves her!? What if he’ll hate you again!? What if…

What if…

Suddenly it’s as if you cannot breathe, you feel it, overtaking your chest, tightening your throat, and King Sukuna holds you carefully, concern in his formerly amused gaze as he looks at your face.

You can’t breathe.

A/N: This chap was a fkn DOOZY, Say hi to King Sukuna and bitch ass Adelia lol <3 Did you think we were done w/this story yet!? No lol. Please leave a comment if you enjoyed, or a reblog, they help so much. Ty for reading this one!!!!

Taglist: @kalopsia-flaneur @bunheadusa @7thsthings @disilluzions @antisocialinlw @Sukunassfinger @lelsforlino @heeknow @muvasuperior @prince-wyiilder @lavender-hvze @ssetsuka @labelt-san @sadmonke @philiatothephobia @ambiguouslady42 @stromynight @dreamygirli3 @jazlenekasi @victoriaaaa00 @wuvnada @valleydoli @nanasukii28 @sw3etnena @dark-agate @tamaki-simp @yuuuumii @givluv2tyy @airandyeah @chiyokoemilia @webshooterrr9 @miizuzu @thikcems @erensblackwife @murayamayoshiki-lovergurl @blue-musingss @huuuhwhaat @makingtimemine @saccharinesatoru @sunnyviewsblog

Part Thirteen

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #jujustu kaisen #duke gojo #arranged marriage #silent serenades #gojo jjk #satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x you #gojo angst #jjk angst #jjk smut #gojo satoru

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pedroscurls · 6 months ago

Text

touch starved (one-shot)

summary: logan agreed to go out with wade, having been promised a low-key night, but he should've known than to trust wade for his word. he didn't agree to spend his night at a strip club and he's just about ready to leave until he sees you. pairing: worst!wolverine x fem!reader content warnings: explicit smut (18+, mdni), porn without plot, lap dance, grinding / humping, striptease, one night stand (you take logan back to your apartment), unprotected p in v (be safe folks!), cowgirl, reader takes charge (and logan's more than happy to let you take the lead), oral - m receiving, swallowing logan's release. basically this story is all about catering to logan and his needs 🙂‍↕️, reader description (only clothes and hair), no use of y/n. word count: 3k a/n: coming at ya with yet another one-shot of logan filth lol. my own headcanon is that logan / worst!wolverine is touch starved (just as much as he craves to be part of something bigger than himself). anyway, hope y'all enjoy - it's a spicy one 🤭 song: closer by nine inch nails

“You promised a quiet night out, Wade,” Logan snarls at the other man, hand gripping his glass of whiskey. It’s too loud in here, the music blaring from the speakers, the flashing dark red lights illuminating mainly the stage where women are performing. There are plenty of men surrounding the stage, alcohol in one hand and dollar bills in the other.

“I promised no such thing,” Wade grins. “I said let’s go out and you agreed.”

Logan’s jaw tightens and he looks at Wade with narrowed eyes. “You’re a fuckin’ liar.”

Wade laughs. “Come on, peanut! Have some fun. Let loose. Just sit back and relax–”

“I’m leavin’,” Logan interrupts, downing his entire glass before slamming it on the table. He stands up and gets ready to turn on his heel when he catches a glimpse of you at the corner of his eye. He turns slightly and watches the way your smile meets your eyes. You don’t look like you belong in a place like this, the other women wearing too much make up and revealing so much that it leaves little to the imagination. But you… You look absolutely breathtaking and Logan feels like he can’t move, can’t tear his eyes away from you.

Your hair cascades past your shoulders, your make up remaining light and natural. You’re dressed in an all black sheer robe with a lace cuff and satin waist belt. The robe is loosely wrapped around your frame, giving Logan a glimpse of your sheer mesh bra, the top of your bra trimmed with lace and when you undo the belt of your robe to reveal your lower half, he feels his breath catch in his throat. Your panties – or rather, your thong – matches the same style of your bra.

It’s so innocent in comparison to the other women in the strip club, and yet, Logan can’t seem to take his eyes off of you. It’s only when he hears Wade’s voice that he finally looks away, even though he’s yearning to just look at you again.

“Oh, someone’s caught your eye,” Wade grins, swaying in his seat. “Want a private dance, Mr. Wolverine?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Logan says. “Like I said, I was leavin’–”

“So soon?” you interrupt and glance between both men. You flash a smile in Wade’s direction who looks like he’s about ready to combust with excitement. He’s sipping his drink with a straw, grinning in your direction. Then, you glance over at Logan whose eyes stare directly into your own.

“Actually,” Wade says. “How much for a private dance…” he trails, staring up at you as he waits for you to say your name.

“Kitty,” you finish for him. “You can call me Kitty.”

“Very fitting,” Wade winks. “Well, Kitty, it’s my friend’s first night out in a very long time and I figured I can treat him to a private dance.”

“That’s very nice of you,” you respond, but your eyes never leave Logan’s. You can see his eyes flit over your frame, lingering on your exposed skin.

“Listen, you ain’t have to and–”

“How about the first one’s on me?” you interject.

“Sweetheart,” Logan mumbles.

You bite your lower lip and gently reach up to rest a hand on his arm. You can feel the muscle beneath the fabric of his shirt, can feel him flex it underneath your fingertips. Logan inhales sharply as he looks down at your hand, clearing his throat at your soft touch.

“His name’s Logan, by the way,” Wade chimes in, cutting through the tension with a quiet giggle.

“But only if you want to, Logan,” you whisper, moving your hand down his arm and to his forearm. You bat your eyelashes up at him, trying to ignore the obvious attraction you feel towards him. Truthfully, you’d rather spend the rest of your night with him rather than give dances to other men in the club – men who didn’t look like Logan.

Logan feels his resolve diminishing, but when he hears his name leave your lips, he nods slowly. “Y– Yeah, sure.”

“Great, come with me.” You smile and gently take his hand in yours. He looks down at it, taking notice of the way his large hand encompasses yours and he allows you to lead him towards the back of the club and into a much more private room.

Once inside, Logan hears the door shut and he turns to face you, his eyes lingering on your frame. He watches you walk towards him, hips swaying to the muffled sound of the music until he feels your hands rest firmly on his chest.

“You’re a shy one,” you point out, tongue darting out to lick your lower lip.

“Not shy,” Logan mumbles. “Just bein’ respectful, sweetheart.”

“Sexy and a gentleman?” you smile. “Mind if I keep you for the rest of the night?” you tease.

Logan feels a blush rise in his cheeks and lets out a quiet grunt when he feels you push him back against the large sofa. He stares up at you, eyes obviously now trailing your frame. He keeps his hands on his lap, though he yearns to reach out to touch you.

“Logan,” you whisper, moving your hands to rest on the backs of the couch as you lean in until your lips are mere inches from one another. You’re slightly bent over to be at eye level with him and you smile, catching the way he clears his throat. “If you don’t want to do this, all you have to do is say so, okay?”

“Okay,” he responds quietly.

You smile and gently press a soft kiss on his cheek, slowly pulling away to see that his eyes had fallen shut. You turn on your heel and walk over to the speaker to put on a couple of songs that you normally play when you give a private dance. Pressing play on the first song, you then turn around to face him once more. He looks so large in this room – his legs spread open on the sofa, broad shoulders and chiseled muscle beneath the fabric of the flannel he’s wearing. This was only ever a job to you, never finding anyone all that interesting or attractive, but Logan – well, you’d risk your entire job if it meant you can have him for one night.

As the first song plays and filters the room, your eyes meet Logan’s who is staring at you with an anticipated look on his face. His eyes move along your legs, up to your midsection and then up to your breasts and back down. Slowly, you remove your robe and let it pool around your ankles as you strut towards him. Your hips sway with each forward step and Logan lets out a shaky breath.

Once you’re standing in front of him, between his legs, you lean down and gently brush your lips against the corner of his lips. His facial hair tickles your lips and you pull back enough to stare into his eyes, lips slowly grazing his own. “You can touch me,” you whisper and move your hands onto his strong shoulders, slowly straddling his hips. “To be honest, I’d let you do anything you’d want to me,” you say quietly into his ear.

Logan’s large hands immediately move to your hips, gripping it tightly as you sit firmly on his lap. He’s so hard and he feels so embarrassed, but the look on your face when you feel him alleviates some of the uncertainty he’s feeling.

This isn’t the first time you’ve felt a man’s erection while giving them a lap dance, but it is the first time that you actually let out a quiet moan as you slowly roll your hips against his own, to the beat of the song. The tension between you thickens in the air and you stare deeply into his eyes as you try to remember the routine that you normally do for this song.

You let me violate you

You let me desecrate you

You let me penetrate you

You let me complicate you

Logan’s hands slowly move from your hips to your thighs, his fingertips digging into the meat of your flesh as your hips roll against his. He clears his throat and watches as your eyes flutter with each movement. He has to wonder if this is all part of your act, that maybe you’re just acting like you’re enjoying this.

“Logan,” you whisper, moving to slightly lean back in his lap. You move one hand from his shoulder to reach behind you and rest on his knee as you lift your hips before coming back down on his lap. Logan groans quietly, almost inaudibly, as he moves a hand to splay on your abdomen, slowly moving it upwards towards your breasts.

I wanna fuck you like an animal

I wanna feel you from the inside

I wanna fuck you like an animal

My whole existence is flawed

You get me closer to God

When his thumb brushes against your nipple, feeling it peak beneath the sheer fabric of your bra, he has to wonder if maybe he crossed a line. Logan moves his hand away from you but you grab his wrist and move it back over your breasts. He smirks and wraps his free arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him as he leans forward.

You let out a quiet moan and feel a wetness settle between your legs that you have to lift your hips off of him, not wanting to stain his dark jeans with your arousal. Slowly, you stand back up and hear him let out a quiet, disapproving groan. You stand between his legs, moving one hand in your hair as you use the other to run along your body, grazing your own breasts and down between the valley of your thighs as your hips sway to each beat of the song.

You tear down my reason

(Help me) it's your sex I can smell

(Help me) you make me perfect

Help me become somebody else

Logan can smell your arousal, can smell just how excited you are and the uncertainty he felt earlier is now completely gone. His hands move up your legs, fingertips hooking into the thin waistband of your thong, but he feels your hands move to rest over his.

“Logan,” you say quietly. Even through the music, he can hear your voice, can hear the desire and yearning in your tone.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“I want to take you home,” you admit, moving to sit back on his lap. “I know it’s very unprofessional, but–”

Logan grins. “Then take me home.”

—

Logan had told Wade what happened, the other man all too excited for him. He hadn’t expected this night to turn the way it did and there’s some part of him that doesn’t feel like he deserves it, but when he sees you step out of the club with that same sweet smile that meets your eyes, he pushes those feelings out of his mind. Because all he can think about is what’s going to happen next.

The drive to your apartment was short and the moment you step out of the car, Logan’s quick to follow you. He steps inside of the apartment with you and you shut the door behind him before you’re on him almost instantly. Your arms wrap around his shoulders and Logan’s hands move to rest on your hips. You stare up at him before you lean up to press your lips firmly against his.

Logan groans instantly against your lips, eyes falling shut as he follows your lead. You move one hand down his chest to his abdomen until it reaches the waistband of his jeans. He feels your tongue slide past his lips and he whimpers against you – he fucking whimpers. Logan’s used to being the one in charge that it takes him by surprise when you’re more than willing to take control.

When you undo the button and zipper of his jeans, you pull away. Your gaze darkens at the sight of him and you bring him further into your apartment, once more pushing him against your couch as he sits down with a grunt. Standing in front of him, you pull down your shorts and panties in one motion, grabbing the ends of your shirt to lift over your head. You stand in front of him, completely bare and exposed for him that Logan doesn’t know where to look first.

You’re so fucking breathtaking that he feels his manhood strain against the fabric of his jeans. Logan slowly pushes his jeans and boxers down his legs, catching the way your eyes widen at the sight of his erected length. He smirks to himself and undoes the buttons of his flannel, pushing it off his shoulders.

“Fuck me,” you whisper under your breath. “You’re so fucking hot, Logan.”

Logan bites his lower lip. He doesn’t have time to respond, to tell you that you’re the one who’s so fucking hot because you straddle his hips and take hold of length. He groans at the feel of your hand wrapped around him, lining him up to your opening. He doesn’t know how long he’s going to last – it had been such a long time since anyone’s wanted him like this, since anyone looked at him the way you did.

In his universe, everyone hated him.

But in this one – Logan has a second chance at living life the way he should have in the first place.

When you slide down his length, Logan’s hands move to your hips. He groans loudly, your walls surrounding his length – so warm, so wet, so tight. Your walls slide down every inch of his length until you’re seated fully on his lap. He looks up at you, sees the way your eyes flutter.

“God, you’re so deep,” you point out with a quiet moan, moving your hands to his shoulders. Holding onto him, you slowly begin to lift yourself before you slide back down. You can feel every inch of his throbbing manhood within your depths and he fills you so fully in a way that you’ve never felt before.

He shifts to lie on his back on your couch, staring up at you. Your hands move to rest on his chest, rolling your hips forward and backward. You can feel the hair at his base brush against your bundle of nerves with each movement, quiet moans escaping your lips.

Logan moans in surprise when you reach for his hands, lacing your fingers together as you press them above his head. He knows that he’s so much stronger than you, but he finds that he likes being at your mercy. You’re gripping his hands so tightly, pressing your joined hands further into your couch as you begin to bounce along his length. You lift yourself until his tip is the only part of him that’s within your depths before you slide back down, your tight walls sliding down each inch of him.

“Sweetheart, fuck,” Logan groans, squirming slightly against your grip. He feels your walls begin to tremble around him, can feel you tightening even further around his manhood.

“Lo– Logan!” you exclaim, moaning loudly as you slam down onto him. You shut your eyes tightly, slowly moving your hips forward and backward to ride out your high. You release his hands to brace yourself on his chest, the feeling of his hair at his base providing just the right amount of friction.

Logan feels a tightness building in the pit of his stomach and he gently lifts you off of him. You gasp, whimpering at the sudden loss of him before you realize that he’s close. You move down the couch and settle yourself between his legs as you take hold of his length, stroking him with a firm grip as your lips wrap around his tip.

“Fuck!” he groans, not expecting you to fucking suck him off. Logan moves a hand in your hair, tangling his fingers in your locks as he guides you along his length. Your hand strokes what your mouth can’t and when you hollow your cheeks to apply more pressure around him, Logan tosses his head back against the couch.

It’s sloppy, spit trickling down your chin as you keep your eyes focused on him. You move along his length, flattening your tongue on the underside of him as you feel each throbbing vein against you. Logan’s grip around your hair tightens and he lifts his hips slightly off the couch to push himself further into your mouth, feeling his tip hit the back of your throat as you gag around him.

Slowly, you pull away from him and smile. “Come for me, Logan.” Then, you wrap your mouth around him once more and bob your head rapidly, stroking his base. Logan shuts his eyes tightly, the tightness building once more as he lets out a loud moan. He gently pushes your hand away as he grips himself, using his free hand to pull you back from your hair as he releases into your mouth. He opens his eyes to look down at you, his seed filling your mouth and you eagerly swallow.

Logan groans, stroking himself to release every last drop of his spend into your mouth. You smile against him – you fucking smile with his cock in your mouth – and it’s an image that Logan will never forget. When you pull away and lick your lips, swallowing every last drop, you lean up on your knees and stare at him.

“Yum,” you grin.

Logan’s breathing heavily, moving one hand to rest behind his head as he looks at you with a small smile. “Didn’t expect this to happen tonight,” he admits. “But I’m glad it did.”

“Stay the night?” you ask.

Logan nods and sits up, gently pushing you onto your back as he settles himself between your legs. “Oh, sweetheart, I ain’t even done with you yet.”

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ddarker-dreams · 10 months ago

Text

Understatement.

Wanderer x Reader.

Warnings: None. Word count: 1.2k.

Your bag carries plenty of essentials.

Stationery, lip balm, keys to your apartment; stuff of that nature. Then there’s your personal favorite, a wallet embroidered with dandelions — your hometown’s flower — into the fabric. It’d been sent to you without a return address on your birthday, shrouding the gifter in mystery. All of these items accompany you on a day-to-day basis.

That aside, this list has another unifying factor. Each object is inert. Completely still. Incapable of moving without an outside force. Now, this isn’t a revelation that’ll shift society and be recorded in history books for generations to come. It’s common sense. A concept children grasp before they even know what ‘gravity’ is.

As for why you’re taking a lengthy mental inventory of your belongings…

Well.

Something in there is moving. Rustling about, the vague outline of its body pressing against the aged leather.

Your response is slow. Cautious. You begin by pushing yourself away from your desk, creating distance between you and this potential threat. The Vision fastened along your waistband thrums, ready to act. Numerous theories whir around your mind like a sandstorm. Is this a prank in poor taste? Cyno had mentioned an investigation into scarabs being placed in student’s bags, although nothing serious had come from it. Maybe it’s a gadget or some elemental reaction—

—Your cognition grinds to a halt when a head pokes out, undoing the bag’s clasp in the process.

…

“Oh!” The creature exclaims while freeing itself. “Um… hi!”

The room’s natural lighting gives you a better idea of the creature’s appearance. Its wings keep it suspended midair, each enthusiastic flap scattering your notes. Large, doe-like eyes consider you, gleaming with childlike curiosity. If not for the prominent horns atop its head, you might think it’s a bat, but that classification doesn’t quite fit.

Whatever it is, you sense no hostility.

“Hello,” is your hesitant reply.

It looks around, fixating on the items displaced from your desk.

“Ack, I’m sorry,” it apologizes. It lands carefully on your desk and lowers its head, as if ashamed. “I didn’t mean to make such a mess… I’ve just been excited to meet you.”

“Don’t worry, this is nothing. I’ve been meaning to reorganize my stuff, anyway.”

For some reason, you can’t find it within you to fault this seemingly well-meaning yet clumsy guest. Its naivete is reminiscent of a certain explosion-obsessed girl from back home. In truth, this entire ordeal doesn’t even breach the top five strangest experiences you’ve had in recent times.

… Alright, perhaps it’s a contender for the fourth slot.

Suddenly, your guest straightens up. “Wait! I haven’t introduced myself yet. We can’t be friends if I haven’t introduced myself… you can call me Mini Durin. And I already know your name. You’re [First].”

“Yeah, that’d be me,” you cover a budding smile with your hand, not wanting your giddy guest to mistake it for mockery. “So, Mini Durin… you said you’ve been wanting to meet me? Why’s that?”

Mini Durin ambles his way toward the edge of your desk.

“You’re important to my first friend,” he declares. “At least I think so. He only has the nicest things to say about you, like how you’re not ‘as insufferable as most,’ and that ‘your presence is tolerable.’”

That’s what Mini Durin considers ‘the nicest things’ to say about someone…?!

The conviction with which he speaks affirms his sincerity.

“It sounds like you trust this friend a great deal.”

Mini Durin nods. “I do. That’s how I ended up in your bag… I got separated from him earlier. Luckily, I spotted you. I knew you’d keep me safe. And now we even get to be friends!”

That explains why your bag felt heavier coming home than when you left.

“You got separated from him?” Frowning, you scoot your chair closer. “Where at? We can go looking for him, if you want. He must be worried.”

“Oh. I didn’t think about that.”

Mini Durin mulls over your offer for a few seconds, adding, “What if he’s mad at me? He was working hard on another gift for you, but I went and distracted him.”

“Friends can sort stuff like this out,” you reassure. Then, a pause. “Huh. Did you say ‘another gift?’”

Mini Durin tilts his head. “You didn’t know? The pretty flowers on your—”

A rapid knock on your door cuts him off.

You both turn your attention toward the booming sound. Huffing, you cross your arms over your chest. It’s late in the evening, who in their right mind would treat your front door like a drum? You shoot your unexpected guest an apologetic look, promising a swift return.

Some choice words sizzle on your tongue as you swing the door open, only to be met by an equally irate figure.

Your eccentric classmate, the Wanderer, stands before you. There’s a slight flush to his cheeks like he’s been physically exerting himself. The telltale sign of Anemo settles down around him, his hat reappearing in the process. He soon mirrors your exasperated posture, one hand on his hip, the other readjusting the brim of his hat.

“I could’ve flown to Inazuma and back in the time it took you to answer,” is the courteous greeting he goes for.

“Hello to you too,” you greet. “Was there something you needed? Or are you just making your debut as a percussionist known to the entire nation?”

He rolls his eyes. “Of course there’s something I ‘need’, genius.”

“And what would that be?”

“I’m looking for a small, talking dragon,” the Wanderer deadpans. “Ring any bells?”

You blink. “Are you referring to Mini Durin?”

“Just how many dragons are you acquainted with?”

“I mean, I am from Mondstadt,” you shrug. A realization then creeps up on you. “Hold on. Does that make you this ‘first friend’ I’ve heard so much about?”

The Wanderer freezes. You observe as he processes this information in real-time, along with the implications that come with it. Though his muscles are tense, he keeps his visage impassive. The occasional twitch of his eye is the only detail betraying his panic.

“... On second thought, you can keep him.”

He swivels on his heel to make a hasty retreat.

You lurch forward without thinking, your hand latching around his wrist. He snaps his head around to meet your gaze, almost knocking you over with his hat in the process. A well-timed dodge protects you from the potential headache. In the light of the setting sun, the Wanderer’s porcelain complexion is dyed in crimson hues. Though he’s maintaining eye contact, something tells you it’s a struggle.

“Hey,” you use your free hand to poke his flushed cheeks, to which he grimaces and bats at it like a cat. “Come inside. I’ll make up some of that awful, bitter tasting tea you like.”

He inhales through his teeth, likely weighing various excuses. You bat your eyelashes and offer your brightest smile. As the seconds pass by, you can feel his resolve weakening. With a scoff, he frees himself from your grasp, the ease in which he does so confirming he’d been your willing hostage.

The Wanderer wordlessly strolls past you and into your home.

Humming, you follow close behind him.

Just ‘tolerable’, huh?

#i wove him #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche brainrot #my stuff

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rafeandonlyrafe · 1 year ago

Text

emergency

words: 1.2k

warnings: single mom!reader (request)

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @winterrrnight @drudyslut @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog

“oh fuck…” you look at your phone after it buzzed for the third time. “i-i have to go, i’m sorry rafe.” you stand up.

“what? whats wrong?” rafe asks, not waiting for your answer before tossing some cash on the table, plenty to cover the bill and a tip for the inconvenience of rushing out mid dinner.

“it’s an emergency, i just need to get back home.” you explain, hands shaking as you exit the restaurant. you were so excited originally to go with on this date with rafe, the restaurant was upscale and you chose the perfect dress for the occasion.

“hey, baby.” rafe calls after you.

you dig into your purse as you approach your car until you finally find your keys. you pull them out but fumble, dropping them to the floor.

“baby, you can’t drive like this.” rafe says, snatching the keys off the ground before you can get to them first.

“i have to get home rafe, stop!” you shout, temper starting to flare as the minutes tick by.

“then let me drive you.” rafe says, looking just as concerned as you feel right now.

“fine.” you groan. you know rafe well enough to know that when decides something, he doesn’t back down easily, and he has decided that you can’t get yourself home with the state you’re in. if only he knew what the reason behind the nerves was.

rafe opens up the car door, not even caring about leaving his vehicle here as you run around to the passenger seat. you don’t make any small talk, sending a quick text back in response to your cousin while giving rafe directions.

he pulls into your driveway, surprised by how close you live, considering that all the dates that you’ve gone on in the past, you’ve insisted on driving yourself, to the point where you’ve been seeing rafe for almost four months now and he didn’t even know where you lived until this moment.

rafe throws the car into park as you hop out the vehicle, only pausing when you realize rafe is getting out too.

“i’ll call an uber for you back to the restaurant.” you say. “just… wait out here.”

“y/n, if it’s an emergency, let me come in and help.” rafe says, as your ears pick up the cries coming from inside, but judging by rafes face, he hasn’t heard it yet.

“no-no. i got this rafe.” you say firmly.

“what more do i have to do to prove how serious i am about us?” rafe asks, throwing his hands up, just as the door opens behind you.

you turn to the door, then back to rafe, seeing the confusion on his face, before running up to the door. you scoop your daughter out of your cousins arms, her sobs instantly lessening to a quiet cry as her grabby hands grip your dress.

“i’m so sorry, she woke up and would not calm down.” your cousin says.

“it’s okay.” you shake your head. “you can head home, i’ll venmo you for tonight.”

“hey, no worries.” your cousin shakes her head, giving you a hug and giving your daughter a kiss on the top of her head before heading away, sending a glance to rafe but staying quiet as his eyes remain on you, on the baby in your arms.

“mamas here, it’s okay baby girl.” you coo, bouncing your daughter as her cries lessen and then eventually stop.

“mama? that’s your daughter?” rafe asks.

“yes.” you hold your head high, despite how defeated you fell. “so you can just go now.”

“go?” rafe moves closer until he’s standing next to you in the doorway. he glances down at your daughter, who is looking up at him with big, curious eyes. “why would i go?”

“well, now that you know i’m a single mom i figured you-”

“you figured wrong.” rafe interrupts you. “i’m not just going to leave because you have a child. i’m only upset that you never told me.”

“i didn’t want to bring you into her life, let her get attached to you only for you to leave like her dad did.” you explain, shifting how you’re holding your daughter, hoping she goes back to sleep soon so you can have the conversation with rafe that you know is needed.

“i won’t, y/n.” rafe says seriously, his face showing the strength of his statement. “i’m not just going to run away from you, or from her.”

you feel tears well in your eyes, and you don’t hold them back. you like rafe a lot, and from what you’ve seen on the dates you’ve been on with him, he puts family before anything else, family that would include your daughter if given the chance.

“whats her name?”

“brynne. and she’s eight months old.”

“so she was three months when we met?�� rafe asks, and you nod yes, moving through the threshold. rafe follows you in, shutting the door behind you, eyes sweeping around your home now that he’s finally in it for the first time.

“listen, rafe. i’m really sorry i didn’t tell you before. i was just worried you’d judge me for being a young single mom, and i’m so protective of her.” “it’s okay.” rafe shakes his head. “i get it.”

“thank you.” you smile, despite the tears still staining your cheeks. you hold brynne with one arm as you raise your hand to rafes cheek, glad that you’ve still got your heels on as you’re able to press your lips against his, quickly accepted by rafe as he kisses back.

you let yourself calm now that your mouth is against his. you pull away to rest your head against his shoulder.

“i should get her to bed, and then we can talk.” you offer.

“can i carry her to bed?” rafe asks, a small smile on his face as he looks down at brynne. “i’d like to hold her, if that’s okay.”

“yeah.” you smile, shifting so rafe can take your daughter from your arms. you cover your mouth with a giggle upon seeing how tiny she looks in his big arms.

“hi brynne, i’m rafe. your moms boyfriend.” rafe tells her, his voice soft and higher than normal when speaking to the baby.

“boyfriend, huh?” you question, raising an eyebrow. you never officially gave your relationship a title, but it seems like rafe has decided that for you.

“you heard me.” rafe smiles back, causing a blush to flare over your cheeks.

“now lets get you to bed, little one.” rafe bounces your daughter gently as he walks further into the house.

you can’t let go of your smile as you watch your boyfriend and your daughter together, the months of worry now leading to something that you’re going to work to keep great.

“you coming?” rafe turns when he notices you aren’t following him.

“yeah.” you nod, rushing over to lay your hand on rafes back, leaning over him slightly to look at your daughter as well while you walk. “i love you.”

“was that to me or brynne?” rafe asks.

you look up at him, his blue eyes shining back brightly.

“both.”

#rafe fluff #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fic #rafe fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fanfic #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron one shot

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yourtypicalwriter · 5 months ago

Text

The Dream Team || (Pietro Maximoff x reader)

GIF Originally posted by @steve-rogers

Words: 2441

Warnings: Some swearing, minor injury.

Summary: You and Pietro went on a mission and had a rough day. Y/n is an agent like Natasha.

Author's Note: I loved writing this one!! Most of the story is a hilarious, action-packed flashback of what happened during the mission. This is my first post and I’ve been working on it since August, so I hope you enjoy it.

-- Christina

➳ ➳ ➳

The file landed on Steve’s desk with a smack.

He looked up and found you and Pietro standing in front of him. “Well, if it isn’t The Dream Team.” He smirked.

The rest of the team coined you and Pietro as ‘The Dream Team’ because of how well you worked together. Yes, you had the occasional quarrel, but ultimately balanced each other out and kept the other in check.

Pietro stood with his arms crossed. “Is that what you wanted?” He asked, flatly.

Steve flipped through the documents. “Yup.” He barely glanced up to thank you. “Great work.”

‘Great work.’ After everything you went through today, he could at least look you in the eyes.

What was supposed to be a simple mission to retrieve intel from a covert HYDRA office in Delaware went completely sideways. It was supposed to be a low-key job: get in, grab the files, and get out, but it turned into a full-fledged, cross-city chase and an overall hell of a mess.

➳

You and Pietro stood about a mile out from where the HYDRA laboratories were located.

Leaning against a tree, you watched as Pietro was kicking dirt, waiting impatiently.

You were waiting to meet up with a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent who went undercover as HYDRA personnel a couple of months ago. They were going to get you past security and into a HYDRA scientist’s office so you could retrieve documents.

You jumped when you heard rustling from the trees, making Pietro spin around, too.

“What was that?” Concern washed over your face as branches continued to snap.

Pietro stepped in front of you, fist at the ready.

Emerging from the foliage was a woman in a business suit holding a briefcase.

You both exhaled and looked around.

“Hello, sorry for the scare.” The blonde-haired woman said. “It's a perfect day for a walk."

The both of you stood confused for a moment until you remembered the rest of the code sentence. "Oh right! I hope you brought an umbrella, just in case it rains."

She nodded. "So, you’re the ones I’m supposed to meet with? Agent Y/L/N, Maximoff, correct?

You both nodded.

“I’m Agent 13.” She said, flashing her badge.

She placed her briefcase on a tree stump and opened it to reveal a computer. She began typing away. “Turgeon is on an hour lunch break, which leaves his office unattended and gives you two plenty of time to grab the file."

You could hear the clicking of keys on the keyboard.

“I was able to make a copy of Turgeon’s ID card too, so opening doors won’t be a problem.” Agent 13 continued. “Once you’re past security at the front doors, take the stairs; there’s less of a chance you’ll be recognized. Then, you’ll go to the 9th floor, swing a left, and the office will be the third door to your right. Do not draw attention to yourselves. We can’t risk anyone recognizing you.”

“Got it.” You and Pietro replied.

“Okay, I temporarily shut down their security system, but not for long.” She looked up at both of you. “You’re up. Get in and get out.”

“Ready?” Pietro turned to look at you.

“Ready.” You confirmed.

He scooped you up, and in a second you were a few meters away from the building, hidden behind a white van parked out front.

Pietro smoothed out his shirt, and you fixed your false glasses in the van’s mirror.

You began to worry. “This is stupid. How is no one going to recognize us? We’re literally so recognizable right now. It’s like how no one knows who Superman is, but it’s so obvious.”

Pietro walked towards you and put a hand to your shoulder. “Look at me.”

You were reluctant to, but you did it anyway.

“Take a breath, okay? Don’t worry.” He said calmly. “Just don’t draw attention to yourself, and we’ll be out of there before you know it, m’kay?”

You took a breath. “Okay. Let's do this.” You peeked out from behind the van, and once the coast was clear, you both made your way towards the front doors.

The security cards worked; now you were in the building and headed towards the stairs.

You stopped as a man with a mop and bucket was blocking the doorway to the stairs.

“Sorry. Can't use the stairs. Clean up.” He said flatly.

“Really?” You questioned.

“Seriously?” Pietro rolled his eyes.

The man shrugged and continued mopping the floor.

“Elevator, I guess.” You suggested.

You headed over to the elevator and repeatedly pressed the button.

The elevator doors opened to reveal about 10 people crammed like sardines. They tried to make an effort to shift around to accommodate Pietro and yourself.

You both tried to keep a low profile on the elevator ride. You didn't worry much; everyone was pretty preoccupied with the documents and folders in their hands that they didn't really look up at the two of you.

Once you arrived on the 9th floor, you and Pietro stepped out and made your way down the hall.

You could see agents here and there, popping in and out of offices.

You arrived at Turgeon’s office and walked in. Pietro shut the door and you closed the blinds.

You were looking for information on ‘Project Red Sky.’ Some files were more recent and on a hidden network, so you shoved a USB drive into the computer and began uploading everything. And some files dated back to the 60s, so Pietro went through the filing cabinets in search of information.

“Found something!” Pietro called out and placed the file on the desk.

You looked through it. “Great! Uh… just fold that up and put it in your pocket or something.”

“You’re sure that’s safe?” He questioned.

“It’s four sheets of paper; I think we’ll be fine.” You reassured him.

Once everything had been uploaded, you removed the USB and opened the office door.

With Pietro in front, you walked back down the hall towards the stairs.

Just then, someone bumped into you by accident.

The man who was previously looking down looked up at you, now puzzled.

“Sorry.” You said, head down as you continued down the hall, now a little faster, trying not to be recognized.

You could hear indistinct whispering behind you and felt people’s gaze upon you. You tugged on the back of Pietro’s shirt to give him a signal that you two had probably been compromised.

Pietro fell behind slightly to make sure that you were safely in view.

How nice, you thought sarcastically.

You peered over your shoulder. Not paying attention, you stumbled over a file cart that was being wheeled across the hall. Pietro used his powers to quickly stop you from hitting the ground.

Your arm was wrapped around his neck. “Woah. Thanks.” You said, looking into his blue eyes. Then you snapped out of your daze and realized what he had just done: shown his abilities in a place where that meant trouble.

If the agents hadn’t already noticed you then, they sure did now.

“Hey!” A HYDRA agent called out.

You snapped your heads up.

“It’s one of the Enhanced. And her? She's with the Avengers!” The agent said, pointing straight at the both of you, who stood there like two deer in headlights.

The Dream Team had been caught. And that’s when shit hit the fan.

You and Pietro looked at each other and spoke in unison. “Aw, damn.”

One of the agents shot a device that latched onto Pietro, just as he made a move to grab you and run. The device sent a little shock wave through his body that immobilized his abilities.

“Gah!” Pietro clutched his side.

It seemed to be a power inhibition device.

Alarms began to sound as HYDRA agents poked their heads out from their offices.

He urged you to keep running.

You grabbed Pietro’s arm and pulled him along, down the hall and towards the stairs. You threw the door open and started jumping down the steps as quickly as possible.

HYDRA agents were popping out of doors in the stairwell and joining the chase.

You reached the bottom of the steps and threw the door open aggressively.

“Hey!” Shouted the janitor.

“Sorry!” You yelled back.

“Why must you apologize for everything?” Pietro asked hurriedly.

With Pietro, plus about a dozen HYDRA agents, on your tail, you made it through the lobby and outside. You both stopped and looked around for an escape plan.

“What do we do?” You asked.

“We can’t keep running; they’ll catch up to us. Y/n!” He said hastily as agents approached.

You looked from left to right and spotted the van from earlier, with its back doors open.

“Shut up and follow me!” You said.

Grabbing his arm, you pulled him into the back of the van and shut the doors behind you.

Pietro sat in the driver's seat. “I—uh.” He hesitated, unfamiliar with what he was supposed to do.

“You don’t know how to drive?!” You shouted as you could see HYDRA agents exiting the building from the side mirror.

“Well, I didn’t really need to know how, now did I?” He questioned, making a running motion.

“Get up!” You shouted as you threw him into the passenger’s seat.

You plopped yourself down in the driver's seat and turned the keys that were still in the ignition.

You stepped on the gas pedal and drove into the city, HYDRA agents on your tail in their black SUVs.

“Get Tony on the phone.”

“Wh—”

“Don’t question me; just do it!”

Pietro took your phone out of your pocket, dialed Tony’s number, and put him on speaker.

“Hello?” Tony's voice rang through the phone.

“Tony! We need your help.”

“Y/n? Who’s ‘we’?” He asked.

“Me and Pietro.”

“Let me stop you right there. Speedy’s been on a pranking rampage, hiding my tools, screwing with my tech, and now expects—"

“Listen, I’m sorry, but I don’t give a crap right now.” You said, rushed. ”You can give Pietro shit when we get back.”

A soft “Hey” came from Pietro.

“Long story short," you continued, "we’re on a mission, and we’re on the move in the city. Is there any way you can autopilot the Quinjet to our location?”

“There’s always a way.” Tony reassured.

“There’s no way we can escape them!” Pietro looked back at the black SUVs following you.

“Hold on!” You ordered.

“Whoa!” Pietro shouted as you took a sharp right turn.

And another sharp right just in case.

“Jesus!” He yelped, the phone slipping out of his hands.

“Sorry! You can never be too sure.” You advised as Pietro picked the phone up from the floor.

The black SUVs were no longer behind you, so you guessed they drove right through the intersection.

“Tony, I need an ETA on the jet.” You said urgently.

“Okay,” Tony said, “There’s a parking lot about a quarter of a mile west from your location. I can land the jet there.”

“Perfect. I’ll let you know when we board the jet. Bye!” You said as Pietro pressed the end call button.

You spotted an alleyway and turned into it. The both of you rocked as the van hopped the curb and skidded to a halt.

“Get out.” You said quickly, unbuckling your seatbelt. “What?” Pietro questioned as he unbuckled his.

“HYDRA’s looking for a van, so we’ll be better disguised if we ditch it.” You jumped out of the van and slammed the door, prompting Pietro to do the same.

“Let’s go!” You started on foot.

You and Pietro were running down the sidewalk, people jumping out of your way.

You looked back and saw the black SUVs from before, rounding a corner.

“Seriously!?” You said, breathlessly.

HYDRA caught up to you… again.

Pietro started. “But you said—”

“I know, I know.” You cut him off.

“Can’t catch a break.” He said, as you both began running faster.

Luckily, you were getting closer to the Quinjet.

You approached the parking lot and ran as fast as you could through the loading hatch door.

Once inside, you ran upfront to press the video screen, “Tony, hurry! Start the engines and get us out of here!”

Then you pressed the ‘close door’ button as the SUVs got closer.

“Hurry.” Pietro waited impatiently, as he watched the agents exit the vehicles.

“C’mon, c’mon.” You whispered as the door closed slowly.

"Got it!" Tony said through the video screen on the dash.

The engines started up, and the plane slowly lifted into the air.

You sighed. “Thanks, Tony.”

“No problem,” his voice echoed through the small screen, “But you’re in for it when you get home, you little bastard.” He pointed to Pietro, and the screen turned off.

Pietro rolled his eyes and plopped himself down in one of the seats, just as you did.

Finally, you both had a chance to exhale.

➳

“Seriously, all of that only for you to say, ‘Great work’?” You questioned Steve.

“What?” Steve chuckled. “Were you expecting a hug?”

“Yeah! Maybe…” You shouted, which made him look at you, confused. “Ya’ know what? A hug would've been nice after the day we just had.”

Steve looked at you with a face that had ‘sorry’ written all over it. “Y/n, you know I was just—”

“Ah ah—” You interrupted him. “Good day, Steven.” You slapped your hand on the desk and marched out of the office as Pietro loosely followed.

You walked down the hallway, thinking about how you definitely reacted too harshly. You knew Steve was joking and didn't deserve that outburst.

After all, he was only doing his job and giving orders. You knew he was busy, and now you felt bad for shouting at him.

It had been a long day. You just wanted to climb into bed and rest your aching body.

You felt someone poke you. As you spun around to face Pietro, he wrapped his arms around you and rested his chin on your head.

“Oof—” As much as you wanted to resist, you melted into his arms. How could you possibly fight this after the day you just had?

“There’s your hug.” He said with a smile.

“Thanks, Pietro.” You smiled.

“No problem. Also, I'm pretty sure Steve feels very terrible now.”

“Shush,” you tightened your grip around Pietro, “I'll give him his apology hug tomorrow.”

➳ ➳ ➳

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cherry-burst · 6 months ago

Text

Zayne x MC “Rest Easy”

Love and Deepspace

Fluff/Smut | Hurt/Comfort | BJ | 4.8k Words

Zayne carefully clutched his side as he walked up to his front door. The motion sensor lights popped on, illuminating the path for him. Digging the keys out of his pocket, he let out a sharp hiss. The sound of the keys jingling might as well have been a cowbell, given how quiet he was trying to be. He carefully unlocked his door, the mechanisms in the lock slipping and clicking into place. A quick glance at his watch showed it was already 3 AM.

As he entered, he quietly closed and locked the door behind him. The house was still. The large windows allowed the moon and starlight to spill through the gauzy curtains onto the floor illuminating just enough for him to navigate without needing to turn on any lights. He slipped off his shoes at the front door and shrugged off his jacket. He hissed again, holding the coat rack for support. After a moment, he pushed his glasses back up his nose and walked quietly toward the bedroom.

He noticed a book on the armrest of his couch face down so the surface of the couch would work as a bookmark. A small glass of water was left on the coffee table next to an empty mug with strawberries decorating the rim. A smile touched his lips as he glanced around.

It was the small things in his home that were different since his girlfriend had moved in. Seeing things littered here and there, not messy, but lived in, was one of his favorite things. His home finally felt alive and cozy. The kitchen was always full of staples, every surface was free of dust, and the bed was always warm when he lay next to her. She was the lifeblood of his home now.

He still wasn’t home as often as he’d like, constantly picking up shifts at the hospital thanks to an uptick in wanderer activity. Not much had changed since she moved in, but he did intentionally take days off now just to spend more time with her. He always tried to come home at a reasonable hour, but tonight had many unexpected twists that not even a psychic could have predicted.

Zayne made his way to his bedroom and quietly entered. The curtains were pinned open washing his girlfriend, who was sound asleep in the middle of the bed, with a gleam of light. His chest warmed at the sight, making a mental note to tease her as a bed hog in the morning as he quietly changed into comfortable sleepwear.

Peeling the comforter up, Zayne calculated if he could fit in the small sliver of space she’d left him. He placed his glasses on the side table along with his phone as he tried to asses the space he had. With a sigh, he decided to give it a shot and lying beside her anyway, slowly made his way into bed. He made sure to keep his torso, which he was carefully holding, straight, and not bend toward his side.

He debated on whether to wake her up or not, thinking up an apology as to why he was home so late. In the end, he needed to nudge her to get her to move just a few inches to the side anyway so his larger frame could fit comfortably on the mattress. She roused with a soft sigh.

“Zayne?” Her groggy voice was interrupted by a yawn.

“Hey,” Zayne whispered back. “Sorry, I’m late… Something came up at the hospital and, …could you please move over just a bit? I can’t fit on my side when you’re hogging the entire center.”

“You’re home” She smiled, her tired mind taking a few extra seconds to register what he said. “Oh! Sure.”

Wiggling to her side of the bed, she gave Zayne plenty of room. He settled next to her with ease now that he had the space. She stretched her arms up, her back and shoulders popping as she yawned fiercely. Her nightshirt rode up to expose a sliver of her tummy and Zayne, without much thought, reached up and placed his hand on the exposed skin. She was warm against his palm.

“I’m home, especially now that I’m here with you.” He allowed himself a small smile, the scent of her on his sheets already easing the noise in his mind.

She hummed in agreement. “I missed you. I got worried and called the hospital, but they said you were staying late with a patient.”

Zayne nodded, a part of him sending a thanks to that employee who hadn’t told her exactly what had happened tonight. That would have made his girlfriend worry too much. She would have worried for nothing, though. He was in good hands having already been at the hospital.

He traced his fingers over her stomach, rubbing small circles. She sighed and then he sighed, feeling the drama of the night lift off his shoulders.

“Go back to sleep,” Zayne whispered.

She groaned, “But you just got here… I want to hear about your day.”

He hadn't had a chance to text or call her all day thanks to the outpouring of patients the hospital received. It was hard for him to even take a sip of water or stuff a granola bar in his mouth before another code was beeping over the speakers urgently calling for him.

He yawned, sleep already welcoming him into his warm embrace. “Sleep. Doctor’s orders.”

His girlfriend scoffed, “Are you ever going to stop using that excuse? You told me that eating a third cupcake yesterday was doctor's orders as well.”

“Well, it did make you happy, and happiness leads to wellness.” He closed his eyes, his voice groggy.

She took a deep breath and rolled over to face him. Zayne’s hand naturally slid to her back and pulled her closer without a second thought.

She cupped his face, a kiss landing on the tip of his nose. Then she froze. “Your head?!” She gasped, her fingers grazing the edge of the butterfly grip just above his brow. “What happened?” The gash was about an inch long peaking out of the bandage.

“Uh,” Zayne’s tired mind forgot the excuse he’d already carefully crafted on his way home and instead, he fumbled his words. “It’s nothing. Just a scratch.”

“Zayne…” Her voice was more alert now. “They usually don't take time to seal up wounds that are ‘just a scratch’.”

She began to slide her hand down his arm and chest. Zayne winced when her hand grazed the side of his torso. His sharp intake of breath made her stop in her tracks.

“Zayne!” She said his name again, this time louder.

He opened his eyes and stared at her half-lidded. “I had to get a couple of stitches. It’s not a big deal… just be gentle with that spot please.”

His tone was strained as she pushed up his shirt to see. He let her, of course. But gauze covered a large expanse of his side making it hard for her to assess his injury.

She conceded and let his shirt fall back down. “Why did you get stitches? What happened?” She cupped his cheeks with her hands. Zayne savored the sensations letting his eyes fall shut once again.

He rooted around his brain for a good way to explain the situation that didn’t make it sound as bad as it actually was. He wondered if he could request that they talk about it in the morning, but he knew his girlfriend well, she worried about him and would need answers immediately.

“I was… shhmmm” Zayne slurred purposefully. Okay, fine… there was no dancing around it, it was bad.

“You were what?” She used her hands on his cheek to angle his face towards hers.

“...”

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that.” She said in a more stern voice.

“I was stabbed.” He finally spoke.

“What!?” Her sudden exclamation made him jolt, causing him to gasp in pain again.

“By a patient,” He added, breathing through the ache. “They were on some sort of drug that caused them to become violent. He woke up while I was examining him and pulled a knife on me. It happened so fast…” He spoke, hardly believing it himself.

The man had been unconscious when he got to the hospital and when he awoke, he sliced at Zayne and his nurse, successfully stabbing him once before his evol intervened, holding the crazed man back while Zayne and the nurse made their escape. Luckily, he was already at a hospital and had one of the other doctors patch him up before he left.

She pulled up his shirt again, her fingers sliding over the edge of the gauze with newfound concern. The dressing just kept going up and up along his torso. “It’s huge…” Her voice wavering.

“I know… It will be fine. I was given a few days off to recover.”

“You know!?” She asked. “Zayne, it’s turning purple around your ribs…” She ghosted her fingers over the discolored skin.

“Pff!” Zayne let out a laugh wiggling away from her touch.

“Zayne? Are you… giggling?” She looked at him in astonishment.

“Don’t do that,” He laughed again and moved her hand away from his stomach.

“Are you drugged up?”

For some reason that question made him giggle even more. He burst out laughing and she thought that it must have been a very potent painkiller setting in if he was this free with his emotions.

He finally calmed down enough to answer her. “Just some minor pain medication.”

“Minor…” She looked at him indignantly. “Don’t keep trying to downplay. How much did they give you? You’re positively loopy.”

“You just tickled me is all. Don’t- don’t do that again.” He could feel that his pupils had dilated, a side effect of the strong pain medication they’d given him. He looked up at her bathed in moonlight and sighed. She was “so beautiful.” He said out loud.

“Oh jeez,” She smiled, shaking her head at him. “Your gauze is way larger than just a minor wound. Don’t you think?” She tried to put him back on topic.

He nodded in agreement.

“Zayne...” She let her head hang in defeat.

He took this opportunity to sweep the hair off her face and press a lingering kiss to her forehead.

“I will be okay.” He reassured her, his warm breath flowing over her brow.

“You need to get some sleep… Sleep off some of this medication that is making you loopy and allow your body to heal.” She toyed with his brown hair, moving it off his forehead to expose the butterfly bandage again.

Zayne savored the sensation of her touch but ultimately agreed. “Let’s get some rest and spend the day together tomorrow.”

In agreement, his girlfriend pulled the covers up to engulf both of them in its warmth. She tangled her legs with his and rested her head on his chest, careful of his wound. Zayne’s hand ran up and down her back, soothing her to go to sleep.

He didn’t feel the sharpness of the pain any longer. The medication worked to subdue the sensation but also made him extremely drowsy, or was it from working a double today? He felt a tiny peck of a kiss on his lips just before sleep overcame him.

Several hours later, Zayne found himself trying to pull the covers up over his head to block the bright sun from shining directly into his bleary eyes. His watch indicated that it was only 7 AM, far too early to wake up on his day off. Four hours was not enough sleep after the exhausting double shift he had yesterday, plus, you know, getting stabbed.

He tugged the covers harder and let out a pained hiss. Sharp jolts shot from his wound making him wince. He clutched his side, brows pinching together, pleading with his body to stop throbbing. His head swam with the rush of adrenaline his body flooded him with. The pain medication was no match for the deep stab wound. It was already fading from his system.

“Are you okay?” His girlfriend roused from sleep.

“Hmm,” He nodded, but a new wave of pain made him flinch “Ah-”

“Zayne!” Worry clouded her tone.

“I just need a moment..” He managed to speak. He really didn't want to worry her.

“Did you pull a stitch?” She moved the blanket and lifted his shirt to try and peek at the bandage.

“No, I don’t think so. But I haven't moved in a while, so...” He inhaled sharply. He looked down at the gauze she was exposing. There were tiny droplets making their way through the bandage, but nothing to be concerned about.

“Do you have more pain pills?” She covered her mouth to yawn.

Zayne looked toward the bedroom door. “Yeah, there’s a prescription in my jacket pocket. It’s hanging on the coat rack in the entryway.”

“I’ll go grab them. Wait here.” She patted his arm before springing out of bed.

He saw the humor in her words, but couldn’t react beyond a pained groan.

The throbbing was finally subsiding. He struggled a bit to reach over to the pinned curtains. Managing to grab them, he yanked until it fell closed, shrouding the room from the sun's harsh rays. Zayne relaxed back on the pillow with a long exhale.

His girlfriend was back, pill bottle in one hand and a glass of water in the other.

The sight of her opening the bottle to dispense a pill, worry etched into her face, made his heart soar. It was nice having someone fuss over him for once. He didn’t have to shoulder the mental load of getting better while she was around. He, of course, did the same thing for her when she was sick. It made a part of his mind light up, realizing that this was not a relationship to be taken lightly. There was something more here, something that ran deep like roots into the ground. It was something that neither of them would be able to easily untangle from even with immense effort.

He plucked the pill from her palm and placed it on his tongue. He carefully leaned over and took a few gulps of water to down the pill. Birds began to chirp outside as the sun climbed higher. Zayne placed the ice cold water on the nightstand while his girlfriend slid back into bed with him.

“Do you need anything else?” She asked him.

“No. No, I’m good for now.”

“Try to go back to sleep,” She spoke softly, her hand pressing all around his face.

“Thank you,” Zayne wondered what possessed her to always want to touch him. It was a nice feeling, to have someone show such blatant affection for you all the time. He tried his best to always reciprocate, even if they were in public he’d try to hold her hand even if social pressure made him feel anxious about it.

She ran her fingers through his hair, and Zayne’s eyes grew heavy. He got comfortable and tried to allow sleep to overcome him once more. He listened to her slow, even breath as she settled into her usual cuddle spot by his side. He kept his eyes closed and wrapped his arm around her tightly.

After laying there for what felt like hours, he realized he was unable to sleep. The medication was starting to do its job, rushing to where he needed it the most allowing his muscles to finally relax. It took the edge off just enough for him to take deeper and deeper breaths. But still, sleep did not come. He shifted his legs, hoping to move into a more comfortable position instead of being stalk straight on his back.

“Are you still not asleep?” Her sleepy tone indicated that she had fallen into a light sleep within the last 30 minutes despite Zayne’s struggle with it.

“Sorry to wake you, I am just getting more comfortable.” Zayne shifted, angling himself on his good side. When the throbbing pain didn’t come, he relaxed into the position, facing her.

“I’m worried about you…” She confessed, her sleepy eyes meeting his in the dim room.

Zayne kissed the back of her hand then rubbed his palm along her back in reassurance. “No need to worry. I’ll be fine. I’m more worried about your sleep getting interrupted by me.”

She shook her head to dispel his worry. “This isn’t about me. You were stabbed, for goodness sake, you are allowed to be selfish in this instance.”

He let out a quiet chuckle and nodded. “Fine, I’ll be selfish Zayne from now on until I feel better.”

“Good,” She squeezed his arm in agreement.

He hummed, pressing his face closer to hers. “At least the medication is working. But…”

“But, you’re not tired…” She finished his sentence.

He shook his head. “I am tired, but my mind feels awake right now.” It was his usual hour to get up for work, and he was used to running on only a couple hours of sleep at a time. It was hard to persuade his body to allow him a bit more rest.

“What can I do?” She asked, lacing her fingers with his. Her hand was warm, and Zayne squeezed it in his grip.

“Nothing. Go to sleep. I will eventually fall asleep once the pain medication fully kicks in.”

She sighed. “But it should already be kicking in and you’re no closer to falling asleep.” They lock eyes for a long moment. “I know you, Zayne.”

He nodded, of course, she knew him. No one else knew him as well as she did. It used to make him feel too exposed, but the more he got to know her better than anyone else, the more secure he felt in allowing her to know all of his most intimate details.

“I know.” He pressed his forehead against hers. “Even if I don’t fall asleep, I won’t be getting up from this bed anytime soon.” He hoped that thought would make her feel better about allowing herself to go back to sleep.

She was quiet for a long moment, and Zayne wondered if she had actually fallen back to sleep. That is until she spoke up. “Can I try something?” Her voice was even quieter than before.

“Try what? Like hitting me over the head with a frying pan or something. I assure you, I do not need brute force to fall asleep.”

She let out a small laugh at his joke. “No… I mean, Can I try something?” Her tone was lower than before. “I know something that always makes you sleepy afterward.”

He looked at her with a questioning gaze. “What is it?”

She ran her fingers through his hair then moved him to lay down fully on his back again. Zayne lifted one brow in question but allowed her to continue since he was now getting peppered with dozens of tiny kisses across his face.

Carefully, she maneuvered lower down to his chest. Zayne stayed still, waiting with a curious air about him. His stomach muscles flexed and tensed when she got to his torso, but the pain didn’t come.

When she lifted his nightshirt and kissed just below his navel he piped up. “What, ah, what are you doing?” He tugged on her sleeve to bring her back up, but she didn’t relent.

Her small fingers untied his sweatpants. “I want to distract you from your pain,” She gave him a small shy smile. “And help you fall asleep after…” Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she tugged on the hem of his pants.

Zayne swallowed thickly, his heart kicking into gear. “You don’t have to-” Her lips trailed lower and he took in a sudden breath.

“I want to,” She made eye contact with him while she rubbed him through his boxers.

One hand stayed on her shoulder, holding her tight like it was the only thing anchoring him to reality. His other arm came up, covering his eyes with his forearm while she removed his growing erection from its confines. His pupils blew wide with the surge of adrenaline from her kitten licks, soft kisses, and the pain medicine combination. He was sure his pounding heart could be heard from a mile away.

He held back the noises that bubbled up in his throat, restraining them and controlling them into barely there grunts and small gasps. Her kisses were slow and deliberate, moving in a way that made Zayne’s head spin. He buried his face into his arm even more, his hips reacting to her touch. The tips of his ears burned as heat rose on his cheeks.

How her lips moved over him made him groan. Her tongue was warm and silky against his skin making him grow harder with each teasing lick. Zayne dared a peak, but the sight of her made the wind rush from his lungs. She was as gorgeous as ever, her eyes closed while she focused on the matter at hand. Her soft moan as she took him into her mouth sent a wave of pleasure through him.

His moan alerted her and they locked eyes for a heated moment. She gave him a sultry stare, her lush lips wrapping around him sinfully, but Zayne had to quickly look away. It was too much, the pleasure, her touch, the way she looked, it was all overwhelming. Overwhelming yet oh-so-amazing. He bit his lip to contain the growing moan that threatened to escape, hiding under his arm once again to savor the sensations.

His heels dug into the bed when her hand aided her mouth in pleasing him. Her stroke made Zayne’s hips rock gently into her palm. He enjoyed himself, focusing on the feeling of her mouth sucking him in, her smooth tongue swirling around, and her hand gripping and pumping in time with her head. His chest heaved, his mind hyper-aware of her every move.

He’d almost forgotten about the stabbing. The only reminder was the floating sensation he began to feel as the medication ran its course. It was as if he were floating on a cloud. He only knew because it wasn’t his usual sensation when he was in bed with his girlfriend.

Her lips and tongue worked him over. Each lick felt like silk over the sensitive skin and every kiss was pillowy soft driving him absolutely wild. He wondered if the medication would even allow for him to get off like how people had performance issues when it came to drinking alcohol. However, he quickly dispelled that notion. His body was obviously responding perfectly fine to his girlfriend's ministrations.

She sucked the ridge of his head, her tongue striking out to lick the leaking moisture that ran down the edge. Zayne’s hand flexed in reaction to this. He hadn’t realized just how hard his fingertips were digging into her shoulder until that very moment.

“Sorry, sorry, ah-” He removed his hand and moved it to rest atop her head instead.

She didn’t stop her work, teasing him by licking all around instead of taking him back into her mouth. Was it a small punishment for him squeezing her? He panted, his hand pressing lightly on her head to urge her for more. The slow methodical licks she gave him drove him wild. Her tongue running up and down his length sent his body ablaze.

He knew this game well. He was well aware that no amount of begging or pleading would make her stop what she was doing until she, herself, was ready to take the next step. He kept his mouth shut, hoping she’d finally take him in her mouth again so he could rapidly find the release he knew was quickly approaching.

Zayne peeled his eyes open and watched her lips wrap sensually around him. Her gaze met his, a playful sparkle dancing in her eye. His stomach filled with butterflies when she allowed him to sink back into her mouth until he hit the back of her throat.

He gasped followed by a long moan while he sent a silent ‘thank you’ to whatever deity was blessing him at this moment. His girlfriend hummed purposefully, adding a layer of pleasure to his already overwhelming experience. His forehead broke out into a sheen, dampening the hair around his face. He grabbed the sheet, his hips pushing upward to chase his own release.

He would be fooling himself if he said he didn’t think of this often. After the first time with her, it was like the floodgates opened up and, what once was a slow stride towards intimacy, was now a full-blown sprint to the bedroom every chance they got. It was always fun with her, it always felt incredible and otherworldly. Being with her in the most intimate of ways never ceased to feel surreal to him.

Her soft lips moved further down his length, taking him deeper into the back of her throat. The tightness over the tip made him see stars. The smooth friction of her tongue and lips mixed with the added sensations from her hand gripping at the base was blissful, to say the least. Zayne’s moans were out of control. He didn’t hide them anymore as his body rocked against hers.

“I-” He spoke, a moan cutting him off. “I’m close,” He warned, his large hand tightening in her hair. Zayne made sure the action wasn’t forceful, only a gentle indication for her to please don’t stop.

She sped up, taking him in her mouth over and over until Zayne’s body arched. His legs shook while he grabbed onto the bed, his hips rocking out of sync with her actions. It didn’t matter though, he was already thrown over the edge into an eternal bliss that only she could bring him to. The pulse of pleasure coursing through him made him forget about his stab wound entirely, even forgetting about the cut on his bicep he’d yet to mention.

His girlfriend finished drinking him down before finally releasing him. Zayne let out a huge sigh and relaxed back onto the mattress with a thud. She waited a moment before tucking him back into his clothes and kissing a path back up his torso to his face. He lay there motionless, immobile by the sheer nirvana he’d just experienced. She kissed his cheeks, nose, and forehead while he caught his breath.

They finally shared a kiss. It was a long passionate moment where Zayne wrapped his arms around her body and held her close. She pulled back after a long moment, then planted several small kisses on his lips like they were a ‘P.S’ after a long heartfelt letter.

It was as if he were made of lead. His arms wrapped around her as his girlfriend found a good snuggle spot right next to him. He closed his eyes, planting several more kisses on her forehead before they shared another kiss on the lips.

Zayne could hardly believe how out of shape he felt. The stab wound really took a toll on his body made even more exasperated by what his girlfriend had just done. He hugged her tight to his chest, nuzzling his face into her neck. His breathing was beginning to even out as his heart rate started to drop.

The room was silent, a stark contrast to just moments ago when Zayne’s noises filled the room. The kick of the air conditioning filled the silence with a bit of white noise.

“Do you think you can sleep now?” She whispered, her hand cupping his cheek.

He didn’t even try to open his heavy eyelids as he nodded. “Oh, yes.” He nuzzled her harder. “I think I will be able to rest easy now. Thank you,” He signed contently. “I owe you,”

She giggled. “You don’t owe me. We’re even,”

“Oh? Is that so,” He teased,

“Mhm,” She affirmed.

“In that case, I will say that I want to owe you.” He took in a deep inhale, her scent fluttering all around him.

She let out the smallest of chuckles. “If that’s what you want, I won't stop you.”

He hummed in agreement. “It’s what I want.” It's all he can think about now. If it wasn’t for the medication mixed with the rush of endorphins, he’d already have his face planted exactly where he wanted it between her thighs.

“But first, sleep Zayne.” She urged him.

“I love you,” He said, planting a small kiss on her shoulder where his face was buried.

She gave him a squeeze. “I love you too, Zayney.”

He huffed a laugh, a smile quirking up his lips.

It wasn’t long before Zayne passed out asleep. His girlfriend rubbed his back until she heard his breathing pattern change. She then followed soon behind, sleeping soundly snuggled up against his side.

#love and deepspace zayne #zayne x mc #lads zayne #l&ds zayne #zayne x reader #zayne smut #love and deepspace #love and deepspace smut #lads #l&ds

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narrycherries · 4 months ago

Text

ivy: an incandescent glow

She just wants to have a fun night out, but Harry has a tendency to ruin things..

[part 2]

masterlist // ivy series

word count: 10.9k

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

Although the week had been quite packed with things at work, Ivy had decided that maybe it would be best if she did go out for the night. It would only be for a few hours, and Niall had assured her when he came over the other night for dinner that it would be a good time. Emma begged a few times, of course, and she didn’t want to admit to giving in to her, but she did.. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for her to go out, it had simply been a while.

“Is Niall riding with us?” She asked Emma when she popped in Ivy’s room to borrow a pair of earrings that would better match her outfit.

“No, he’s going with Zayn. They usually go early to meet with the owner and stuff.” She explained as she looked in the mirror, slipping the earrings into her piercing holes. “He might ride back.. I’m not going to drink very much, probably just one drink when we first get there. He’ll want to celebrate after and you know how he is.”

“He definitely doesn’t need to be in a driver’s seat.”

Emma sighed. “He doesn’t even need to do that when he’s sober. He pays horrible attention to the road.”

“Your dress is cute. I love the red on you.”

“Thanks! I love your skirt.. even though it covers your ass too much.” She joked with a grin.

Ivy rolled her eyes. “I don’t want my ass hanging out all the time.”

“When it looks that good.. you should.”

“Do I need to change?”

Emma smacked her lips and grabbed Ivy’s hand, knocking the makeup brush out of her grip. “Stop! You look perfect, Ivy, I’m only teasing because your ass is nice and mine is nowhere near as big.” A laugh fell from her lips as she wrapped her arms around Ivy. “You’re hot, girl.”

“Am not.” She huffed back, embracing Emma just as tight. “But thanks.”

“The skirt is hot. The style is cute on you, plus the sparkles on your shirt are going to shine so much in the bar. Like a disco ball.. all eyes on you, sugar.”

Ivy chuckled at Emma’s flattering statements. She was glad to have an encouraging friend like her. Before all the joking, she did have a thought or two about the skirt and the bright orange shirt covered in fake rectangular gemstones. The straps were thin, and the necklace was low but straight across, covering any opportunity for cleavage to show. It was definitely not a shirt someone would wear on a daily basis, but it was perfect for going out.

“Are you wearing heels?” Emma asked, looking down to see her shoeless feet.

“Probably the chunky ones with the straps, the black ones. Are you?”

She nodded back. “I’ll make Niall rub my feet tonight.”

Ivy snickered. “I’ll make you rub mine.”

“I mean, I will. You’re my best friend.. as long as you aren’t sweaty.” Emma’s lashes hit her cheek as she winked.

“Don’t you need to finish getting ready?” Ivy said as she turned back towards the mirror to work on her makeup.

Emma was notorious for being late, and it took everything in Ivy to wrangle her up and out of the door when they were going places together. Niall didn’t give them a specific time to be at the bar, but he did say when the band would start. Emma needed to get ready quick if they wanted to make it on time.

The car ride was full of quick conversations with random topics in between their performances of some of their favorite songs. They had hit a karaoke stage as a duo before, plenty of times, so they were confident in their list of songs. In between the belting and off key singing, they had a few longer talks. Emma asked if Ivy was nervous about going to a bar she’d never been to before, in which she said ‘no, I’m excited’ and then let Emma tell her all about the layout of the place.

“You said something about.. Niall celebrating after?”

Emma nodded as she kept her eyes on the road ahead of them. “They don’t play the entire night. Usually have about two hours until closing. Depends on if there’s any requests.”

“Requests?” Ivy lifted her brows, surprised by the seemingly popularity Niall’s crew had. “They must be really good?”

Although she had seen videos of Niall, she hadn’t seen any of his band. Emma didn’t really use social media a lot, so she never posted anything or shared posts about their shows. Ivy was going to be completely surprised by whatever was to come tonight. She knew it would be good though. If they could continue to book the same venue time and time again, then they must bring in a good audience.

When the silence rose between them, Ivy took the opportunity to look at Emma’s outfit. She was humming softly to the song playing on the radio as she drove, her concentration on the road and not on her friend’s gazing eyes. Emma had such pretty dark hair that Ivy thought was perfectly placed strand by stand on her head. It had a natural wave to it that was easy to style, whereas Ivy had to place heated curls into her long, straight hair whenever she wanted it to look cute. Emma had a slimmer build than she did, her legs were longer despite them being a similar height. No matter how hard she tried not to look, her eyes always naturally fell to catch a glimpse at the gap between Emma’s legs. She never looked at it in a weird way, like she was attracted to her, but in an envious way. When she stared down at her own thighs or burned holes through her mirror, she always frowned and swallowed harshly as her skin pressed together - the inside of her thighs always touching. It wasn’t the biggest deal to her, but it was noticeable in her eyes, so she assumed it was.. noticeable for everyone else. Emma had small boobs, but they fit perfectly on her frame. While Ivy had a small cup size, they didn’t necessarily match her body, she believed. Her hips were wider, her ass fuller - as Emma reminded her often - and her stomach was pudgy. She wasn’t skinny, nor tall and lanky. She was short, plump, and her thighs touched.. She never thought she was unattractive but she figured she wasn’t conventionally attractive, she didn’t possess those things that society craved and demanded of women.

Emma’s outfit tonight was perfectly sculpted to her slim body. The red dress had a satin finish to it as it draped carefully over her cleavage, the swell of her breasts peeking out just enough to keep someone guessing. Her tanned skin was littered with delicate gold jewelry - her signature flower ring on her right hand was accompanied by a few random ones, and a ruby necklace hung over her collarbones, Niall gifted that to her for Christmas.

Ivy was confident in her outfit for the night, she was comfortable in the articles of clothing. She was very used to wearing heels when going out, she believed they made the outfits even better, so her feet weren’t going to be hurting that bad later on. She thought her makeup was done nicely, a dark grey smokey eye with a shimmery white covering her lid and a pink nude gloss over her thick lips. Her lips, that was the one thing she was confident in each and every time she looked at her reflection. They were plump, full, and much thicker than the average person’s. She had been told several times that her lips would do wonders - although, she hadn’t gotten to that with anyone yet. She had kissed a few people, though, and they told her it was heavenly. She took the praise to heart and was proud of it. Her thighs might touch and her hair might dry straight, but she had pretty lips.. that would surely be enough to attract someone one of these days, right?

After a couple of minutes of silence, more than Ivy had realized, Emma spoke up. “Are you feeling okay?”

Ivy stuck her tongue out to wet her lips, smearing her lip gloss in the process. “Yeah. Why?”

Emma shrugged. “You’re quiet.. you seem like you’re thinking about something.”

“I’m fine, promise.”

They became quiet again. She knew that sometimes she became mute when she was anxious or thinking thoroughly about something, and she hated when people noticed or pointed it out. She wasn’t intentionally trying to be that way, it just happened. She assumed it was normal, but perhaps she did it too much?

“Ivy, if you’re worrying about your outfit, please don’t. You look hot. You always do.” Emma suddenly said, a smile laced in her words. “There’s gonna be guys dropping to your feet tonight, like they always do.”

“They don’t drop to my feet.” She huffed, pursing her lips at the thought. “They just want to hook up with me.”

Emma smirked. “It’s your ass, I’m telling you. They love it.”

“Emma, please.” Ivy was fighting back a chuckle.

“I promise, swear on every little thing, Ivy, your outfit is perfect and you look perfect.”

A weighted sigh escaped through her lips as she relaxed in the seat, her eyes shifting to look out of the window. “Thanks, Em.”

While Ivy had never been to the establishment they arrived at, she was no stranger to a bar or club setting. Emma no longer seemed to be worried or concerned about any lingering doubts Ivy might have about her outfit or how the night would go. They strolled to the door, hand in hand with giggles pouring from their mouths as Emma joked about how excited she was for what Niall was going to give her after the show. Apparently, performing gave him a boost of confidence, energy, and testosterone. Emma was not shy about telling every detail and making sure Ivy knew all the craziest parts.

“There’s a good bit of people here.” Ivy said as she raised her brows, looking at the good sized line forming to the door.

“Yeah, it’s always packed out. This is one of the best places around. Decent prices, good djs and bands, obviously.” Emma grinned at her own comment. “And the food is actually great. I never came before I got with Niall though.”

“Yeah, I’m kinda surprised we never popped in here during school.”

Emma’s smile turned to a smirk. “They couldn’t handle our karaoke performances.”

Once they paid the cover charge and made a quick trip to the restroom before getting settled anywhere, they headed to the bar, still hand in hand as they weaved through the crowd of people already dancing. Ivy took notice of the interior as they waited for the bartender to come over to them.

The place was pretty big for what it was. The main room had a large dance floor space, a stage lined the back wall. Apparently, the place always had live performers or guest djs. It used to be a small theater that was renovated - the seating ripped out to transform the venue, but the stage remained untouched. Along the left side of the huge open room were tables with booth style benches shaped in half circles. Most of them were already occupied, but she could tell it was more of a casual thing - instead of a ‘being seated and waited on’ space. There was a doorway close to the opposite end of the bar covered with a long, sparkling beaded curtain. The sign next to the door read ‘VIP’. She pursed her lips at the idea of this place being so popular that they had a special seating area. Her eyes darted to the bartender as she heard Emma start saying her order. Ivy ordered a drink consisting of rum and pineapple juice, intending to get something stronger later once the show started.

“Hey there, strangers.” A familiar voice called out over the music.

“Oh, hi, Niall!” Emma was cheerful as he sat down on the stool closest to them. They had been standing, though, not wanting to claim a seat at the bar. “What are you doing out here?”

He shrugged. “We’ve got a few minutes to kill. Getting started?” He nodded his head towards the drink in Emma’s hand.

“Yeah, just having one.. since you’ll be drinking whatever’s left at the bar later.”

Ivy laughed at their banter, which caught Niall’s attention. “I expect you, missy, to have fun tonight. I want everyone to experience how wild you can get.”

“I told her she needs to have fun!” Emma exclaimed, reaching over to grab Ivy’s elbow and give it a squeeze.

“I’ll have a few.. but I’m not going to go crazy.”

They both gave her a dramatic eye roll, Niall adding a huff to his reaction. “C’mon, Ivy, live a little!”

“Yeah, a little, not a lot.” She smiled back, amused by their mix of excitement and disappointment.

“I’ll make sure you have a few rounds of tequila later. On me, of course.” Niall said, looking from her to Emma. “If you don’t drink yours.. then I’ll take it, babe.”

“Are you guys doing requests tonight?” Emma changed the topic after shaking her head at him.

He slowly lifted his head in a nod. “From what I was told. As long as we know it.. we’ll play it.”

“Do my song, okay?” Emma begged with a pout of her lips.

He shaped a grin on his. “It’s on the set list, baby.”

“What kind of music do you play?” Ivy asked, genuinely curious about it. Emma hadn’t really given her much of an idea about what to expect, just a guarantee that she’d love it and have fun.

“Mostly rock.. We do a lot of nineties.. early two thousands songs. Bunch of classic rock, though. Little bit of grunge, dad rock.. if that’s what you wanna call it. Sometimes we branch out.. but mostly stick to that stuff.” Niall said as he stood from the stool, a sigh following his final words as he ran a hand through his puffed up dark hair.

“Time to get ready?” Emma pouted, her free hand slipping onto his waist.

“Yeah, gotta round up the lads.” He breathed out, his eyes focusing on Emma now. “I’ll be watching you, babe. Make sure ya dance for me, yeah?” He teased with a lick of his lips, which clearly fell downward to meet hers.

Ivy swallowed a sip of her drink and let her eyes move to the floor. She wasn’t grossed out by their display of affection, she just felt like she was intruding. Emma was always so open with her about the things she did with Niall and others before he came along, but she never had those kinds of stories to tell back to her. She had been with one person, the summer before university began, and it was terrible. Aside from that, kissing people was the extent of her experience. She enjoyed most of the times she had almost gone far with people, but it never got to that point.

Emma hugged Niall quickly as he said something about needing to go. When he disappeared in the crowd, Emma turned to face Ivy again.

“Niall might stay over tonight.” She said, taking a sip of her drink. “Just to let you know.”

“Alright, that’s fine.”

Emma slid her gaze around the room, taking in the familiar setting, before looking back to Ivy. “I hope you like the music. There’s a bunch of songs you definitely know on the set.”

“M’sure I will.”

“Are you good?” Emma smiled sweetly, not trying to pry or seem too nosy, but she noticed how Ivy had shied away from her and Niall just before he left.

“I’m fine. You worry too much.”

Ivy sighed lightly as Emma took her hand. “Maybe we can find you a hot guy tonight. I know you know how to use those lips.”

“Don’t say it like that!” Ivy laughed, covering her mouth as her cheeks blushed.

“Kissing, I mean! But I’m sure you can do the other stuff, too.” Emma just smirked, knowing that her attempt at making Ivy feel better was working.

They didn’t have to wait too much longer for everything to start. But as they stood next to the bar, partially resting on the stools, the place filled up to more than capacity. It was like a big name musician was in town. Emma told Ivy about the popularity of the bar again and how it was always sold out and packed floor to ceiling with people. She was very impressed by the crowd that had formed around them, and she wondered how much of that was just from the place’s atmosphere and how much was for the live show.

Just as the guy who was normally over the music appeared on the stage to announce that the show was about to begin, Emma grabbed Ivy’s hand and they shoved their way to the front of the crowd, not quite in the center but close enough. Emma wanted to be in front of where Niall would be standing. The lights dimmed, replaced with flashing colorful lights and white strobing flashes. Emma was cheering with the crowd while Ivy waited in anticipation. She was excited to see Niall perform live, but she was more interested in seeing the rest of the band.

A small group flooded the stage suddenly, instruments in a few of their hands, including Niall’s. The lights were purposely not flashing on to the stage yet, so it was too dark for her to tell. She thought she recognized the person getting behind the drum set, but she wasn't sure. Emma let out a piercing squeal as the show finally began.

Ivy happily smiled and started to sway her hips from side to side as a familiar opening instrumental of a song started to fill the room. The lights on the floor of the stage popped on, lighting up the band as the singer started the first verse of “Come As You Are”. She was nodding her head to the music as she watched Niall pluck the strings on the guitar, he was pursing his lips and seeming to be enjoying what he was doing. His eyes shot up and he gave them a quick grin before focusing back on the guitar in his hands and the microphone placed near his mouth. Emma had told her that he sings backup vocals sometimes, depending on the song. She let her eyes roam over the rest of the band. She kept getting a bright red light shot into her eye from one of the stage lights above them, so it was difficult to see at first.

“Oh, Zayn!” She yelled out over the music, hitting Emma on her arm. She hadn’t told her that he was in the band - in fact, she didn’t know much about the band at all.

There were two other people she didn’t recognize, one was a girl playing a keyboard and a guy with dark blond hair playing a bass guitar. Another gasp came from her as she finally got to clearly see the person tightly gripping the microphone. She truly didn’t expect to recognize more than just Niall and Zayn. There stood before her, in the middle of the stage with two big hands wrapped around the microphone and the top of the stand was a third familiar face. Sweat was already rolling down from his hairline, his long curly hair was messy on his head as he jerked around while singing. A white t-shirt hugged his body, sticking to him like glue, and a pair of dark jeans over his legs. The jet black ink of the snake tattoo stood out against his skin as the lights flashed over it, the creature wrapping perfectly around his arm. It was Harry.

The next song started almost immediately and it was another one that she recognized right off the top of the first note played. Ivy’s dad had a thing for rock music, and she knew the start of “Highway to Hell” like the back of her hand. She was impressed by the vocal range Harry was able to belt out into the microphone. Niall and the other guy she didn’t know the name of were singing the chorus with him. Emma was dancing like it was the actual band performing the song, but her behavior made Ivy more comfortable and soon she was doing the same.

Every now and then, Niall would flash them a toothy grin and give them a nod of his head, approving of their performance and dancing. Ivy was on her second drink, this one they grabbed soon after Niall left them and it was stronger than the first. She was feeling the blood rushing to her cheeks, and not from the dancing or close quarters of the crowd. It had been a while since she went out, so she was starting to feel that sensation flood through her - she wanted to have fun tonight.

For almost an hour, Ivy and Emma danced with each other, screaming out the lyrics they knew to different songs. They would do an impersonation of Niall every now and when he'd look towards them, air guitars and rock star head bangs acted out - all of which made him throw his head back and laugh. Like they usually did when they went out together, they’d grab onto each other and hug while singing or playfully run their hands down each other’s sides. It was all in fun, of course, and the alcohol contributed.

They both let go of their embrace as the music dialed down, twisting so they could face the stage. Niall was guzzling a bottle of water as Harry shoved his hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face. The bass player grabbed a stool from the back of the stage and brought it to Harry. Emma was familiar with this portion of the show, so she grabbed Ivy’s forearm to get her attention.

“I’m gonna get some water, do you want another drink?” Emma asked as she took a deep breath, exhausted from trying to outdo the performance on the stage.

“Yeah, get me another one of these.” Ivy nodded as she passed her empty cup, knowing she’d toss in the bin for her. Emma disappeared into the crowd to fight her way to the bar just as Harry adjusted the microphone stand and sat on the stool.

He was holding a bottle of water as he leaned into the microphone. “We’re gone slow it down for a bit.” His deep voice rattled through the speakers, a quick smirk shaping to his lips before he put the bottle to them.

Ivy couldn’t help but watch him as he swallowed half the contents of the bottle. It sloshed out, spilling over the corners of his mouth and running down his chin. Water droplets soaked and trailed down the fabric of his shirt. She was still so shocked by the fact he was the singer in Niall’s band. Maybe Emma just didn’t tell her because she knew they didn’t know each other. They met once, but they were strangers. He tossed the half empty water bottle on the ground, some of it spilled out since the top wasn’t screwed all the way on. His eyes roamed over the crowd as he grabbed the microphone. He glanced over his shoulder towards Niall, who gave him a nod and started up the next song.

Ivy had thoughts spinning in her head, the buzz from her drinks wasn’t helping her concentrate on just one thing. She wondered what songs they would do next. What kind of slower songs did they prefer to do? She figured it would be some of the same artists and bands they had covered thus far. Her eyes were glued to the floor, thoughts circling her mind at a hundred miles an hour. Had that second drink really been that strong or was she dizzy from being so close to the speakers?

She lifted her head the moment she realized what song was being played. She shot her gaze to Niall, then over to the bass guitarist. She knew those chords better than any other song that existed. All those running thoughts vanished in her head as Harry’s voice dropped low with the first verse of the song. The way he sang the words just as slow as they originally were done made her heart skip a beat. This song was special to her. This was something she wasn’t even sure Emma knew. She talked about losing her mom quite often with Emma, but her brother was a different story. And as his favorite song was being sung, she couldn’t help but feel a sadness creep over her joyful mood. All the energy she had jolting through her veins like lightning had slowed to a dull pulse. She gulped as she glanced next to her, Emma hadn’t returned yet. Niall was too busy focusing on the chords he was playing to give her any looks. She felt like she was about to pass out, not from the heat built up from the crowd or the alcohol in her system - but from the overwhelming feelings washing through her. Ivy’s strained blue eyes flicked to Harry, and for just a split second he locked his gaze on her. It was gone before she could understand what was happening. She was sure he didn’t notice her, and if he did then he didn’t recognize her or care to remember the glimpse of her face he got at the tattoo shop.

She thought maybe watching Niall would distract her, but witnessing him playing the music she so easily knew was making it worse. She wasn’t sure how long she had been standing there with her eyes glued to the floor. The song wasn’t over yet, that’s all she was sure of.

“Oh, this is new! They’ve never done this one before!” Emma suddenly appeared next to her, a smile over her lips as she passed Ivy the drink.

She turned her head, glad to see that her friend had returned but sort of upset that she left in the first place. Emma couldn’t have known what song was going to be next, clearly she was unaware of it, and she didn’t know the intense attachment Ivy had to it. She couldn’t blame Emma for anything.

“Thanks. I’m running.. to the restroom!” She yelled over the speaker that was extremely close to them.

Emma gave her a thumbs up and a quick ‘be careful’. Before Emma could drop her arm, Ivy was pushing her way through the crowd towards the restroom, well she actually wasn’t sure where she was heading. She had to get away from that stage. She had to disappear for a few minutes to collect herself. It wasn’t the performance that bothered her - Niall was amazing, as were the others playing instruments, and Harry was doing the song justice. It was just her mind. Sweaty bodies bumped into her as she elbowed through everyone. She felt like she was drowning in a sea of people. It was so loud in the place that her ears were ringing. She couldn’t even hear the music anymore, she was unaware the song had finished and a new one was being played. She broke through the crowd, sucking in a quick breath as she realized she was free of the constraints of people around her.

The restroom was close by, and she stopped just outside the door to chug the alcohol from the cup Emma had just brought her. It was gone within a few seconds. She didn’t care about the sticky drops landing on her chest or the few rolling down her lips, smudging her lip gloss and tracing light lines in her makeup. The bathroom was cold, arctic cold at that. It was a feeling of utter relief to be free of the music, the crowd, the lights.

She stumbled to the sinks, almost forgetting the height of her shoes. Her hands gripped the cold porcelain of the sink in the farthest corner of the bathroom. The fuzzy feeling in her head hadn’t faded yet. She stared at the sink bowl, the silver lined drain gazing back up at her. Ivy spent far longer in the restroom than she meant to.

After ten minutes of her being gone, Emma decided she was going to check on Ivy. She was in still in the restroom, and after Emma asked her several times if she was alright or feeling upset, they chose to return to the front of the crowd. Ivy convinced her friend that she was just having an upset stomach from the drinks, despite them stopping by the bar so she could get another before they got back to the stage. Emma didn’t think anything of it and just assumed that since it had been a while since Ivy had alcohol, maybe she really was just having a stomach ache.

The band continued on for a while longer, taking a few breaks here and there to drink water and take requests. Ivy considered submitting a song to Niall, but she was hesitant to. Besides, several other songs had been yelled out from the crowd, along with some people pushing their way to the front to the stage to call out a song title. She assumed this wouldn’t be the last time Emma drug her out to one of Niall’s shows, so she’d just request something next time. Instead of waiting around for the final song, she returned to the bar on her own and ordered a shot. The memories of her brother were faded by now, but she was determined to flood them out with alcohol. Tonight was supposed to be fun anyway, not filled with sadness.

Emma cheered loud for the band as they finished their last song and said a quick thank you to everyone. Ivy was perched on a bar stool, her eyes filling with stars as she stared at the bar, trying to stay awake. The usual dj returned to the stage to get the music going for the patrons of the bar. It was obvious that some people only showed for the live music because a good bit exited out the door once the set was over, but it was still a pretty big crowd in the building.

“Hey! There you are!” Emma shouted as she walked to the bar, her hand reaching out to take Ivy’s. “Feeling okay?”

“Yeah. Just got some water.” She presented a drunken smile as she held up the small cup of ice water.

“Good! You need to take a break.” Emma grinned back, glad to see that Ivy was enjoying herself, but wary of how much she had consumed. “C’mon, Niall and the others are gonna be in the back room for the rest of the night.”

“Okay.” Ivy didn’t really have a choice on what to do as Emma yanked her off the bar stool and towards the beaded curtain she noticed earlier. It was sparkling from the lights reflecting on the crystals. “Where are we going?”

Emma gave her a laugh, amused by her obvious buzzed behavior, and just pulled her through the curtain. Ivy smacked a few strands of beads away from her face as they tried to tangle up in her hair. The same music that was playing in the main room was also playing in this one. She was intrigued by the new setting, curious to know what kind of important people would be filling it. Was it just for the bar’s usual customers or did you have to have some kind of pass? She wasn’t sure, the disco ball hanging from the ceiling distracted her and made the thoughts dissipate. Her eyes shifted around the room as she took in the new sights. Heavy velvet curtains dripped from the ceilings, covering the walls but not actually any windows they were simply decorations. There were three big, fancy leather sectionals placed in the room - two in each corner and one in the middle of the wall. Curtains hung to separate them, but they appeared to be pulled back tonight. Glowing purple lights centered on short tables in the middle of each couch lit up the leather, making everything seem magical and ethereal. She couldn’t miss the stripper’s pole that was in the middle of the small dance floor, elevated a few feet off the ground on an even smaller stage.

“Hi, Emma!” A girl appeared in front of them, and Ivy recognized her as the girl who was playing the keyboard on stage. The girl’s natural red hair was glowing under the mix of lights flashing in the room. “Who’s this beauty?”

Emma grinned, letting go of Ivy’s hand so she could gesture to her. “This is my friend, Ivy. We live together.”

“Oh, nice to meet you!”

Ivy mustered up a polite smile and a small wave. “Hi.”

“This is Michelle.” Emma said, glancing at Ivy to make sure she was okay.

“You were awesome on stage.” She said to the girl who’s eyes she found to be pretty, the piercing icy blue lighting up even in the dark room.

“Thank you!” She nodded towards the table in the back corner. “I think we’ve claimed that one for the night if you girls wanna sit.”

“Sure!” Emma followed behind her, which led Ivy to do the same.

Michelle and Emma plopped down on the leather couch, immediately starting up a conversation as Ivy sat next to them, but not as close as they were together. She let her eyes move around the room again, searching for a familiar face. There were a handful of people already in the room, most of which were talking to a girl to place their drink orders. She moved her head a little, trying to see past someone. In that same moment, a security guard pulled back the beaded strings and let a group of people in. By the way they were dressed and how some of them had a smug look on their faces, she assumed these were the higher paying patrons of the establishment. Emerging from behind that crowd, Ivy saw Niall brush past the beads. His eyes roamed around until he spotted them in the back.

“Oh, there’s the guys.” Michelle nudged Emma to get her attention as she pointed towards them.

“Finally!” Emma jumped up as Niall got closer to them, she was ready to pounce on him. Their eyes met and he put on a big smirk for her, just as excited as she was to finally get his hands on her.

“Have you met everyone else?” Michelle asked as she slid over next to Ivy, their thighs touching as she offered a kind smile.

“I’ve met Zayn.” She said with a soft sigh. “Kinda met Harry, but not really.”

“Oh, well, that’s Cory!” Michelle pointed to the guy that walked past Niall and Emma as they hugged and twirled each other around. “He plays bass.”

Ivy gave her a nod, silently letting her know she was paying attention. The guy approached the couch before Niall did, since Emma was holding things up with her pecks to his cheeks and lips. He gave Michelle a smile and shot his eyes to Ivy His brows furrowed and he held his hand out in a loosely pointing gesture towards her.

“Don’t think we’ve met.” He said, his confused look morphing to a smile as he sat in the spot across from her. “Niall told me Emma had a friend coming. Ivy, right?”

“Yeah, that’s me.” She turned her lips up, giving him a gentle nod of her head.

“Not drinking tonight?” Michelle asked him with a cock of her brow as she noticed his empty hands.

He laughed back. “Harry’s bringing us a round.”

“Oh, of course he is.”

“Hey, Ivy!” Niall greeted her with a loud voice, happy to see that she was finally apart of their small crew. “How was the show?”

Emma took a seat on the opposite side of the coach, letting Niall claim the place closest to Cory. “I think she loved it!”

“It was so good. You guys are amazing.”

“Saw me shredding the fuck out of that guitar, yeah?” He joked, getting a laugh out as everyone rolled their eyes and smiled at him.

“You killed it, for sure.” ivy took a sip of her water, wishing she had more than that was left in the cup.

“What are you drinking?” Michelle asked curiously.

She pushed out a breath. “Just water right now. I.. had a few already.”

“Your outfit is stunning. I love the top.”

Emma beamed as she heard the compliment. “I told you, Ivy, you look so hot tonight!”

“I’ll say.” Michelle teased just as her phone buzzed in her hand, her eyes falling down to check the message.

Ivy felt a bit of uneasiness building in her stomach as she realized she was feeling out of place all of a sudden. Cory was also focused on his phone while Emma had thrown her leg over Niall’s lap and her arm around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. While she wasn’t with complete strangers, she didn’t really know Michelle and Cory. The only other person she knew hadn’t come over here yet, Zayn wasn’t anywhere near that she could see. Emma was distracted with Niall, leaving Ivy to fend for herself. She swallowed a lump that was forming in her throat and ran her hand over the ends of her skirt, adjusting it on the tops of her thighs. She reverted back to those insecure thoughts she had while on the drive here. Michelle was skinnier than Emma was, leaving her to feel even more vulnerable and uncomfortable. She tried to ignore it by picking up her head, wanting her eyes to catch something interesting to stare at for a bit - but instead she saw someone she recognized coming their way, two people actually.

“The party’s here!” Michelle announced as she, too, looked up and saw what was heading their way.

Everyone looked up to see Zayn walking to them, a girl on his arm, and Harry leading one of the bartenders from the front room to the table. The woman had a tray of beers balanced on her palm. Zayn sat down next to Niall, the woman holding onto his elbow sitting beside him. Ivy figured that was Alyssa - Emma had mentioned her several times while telling stories. The bartender sat the tray down and replied as Niall and Cory both thanked her for bringing them out. She disappeared, leaving them to all to reach for a cup.

“Take one, take one. Drink this damn shit.” Harry yelled with a joyful tone as he grabbed a cup before taking the space next to Michelle.

“Shit, I forgot to tell Harry about Ivy.” Niall said with a groan, glancing at Emma as he got them each a cup.

“What?” Harry smacked his lips as he heard his name, not sure what Niall was referring to.

“My friend, Ivy. She was with me at the shop when I got my tattoo.” Emma said, motioning her hand to where Ivy was sitting.

Harry leaned up to look past Michelle towards the person he had only briefly laid his eyes on before. He shrugged his shoulders, seemingly not concerned with her presence.

“I got the usual number, so she’s shit out of luck.” He casually said the harsh words.

Emma stood up to pass the drink to Ivy. “She can have mine! Here, Ivy, I’m not drinking anything else.”

She gladly took it and brought the cup to her lips, taking just a sip. That caught Zayn’s attention. He jolted up, pointing towards her with a grin on his face.

“Hey! I need to see you chug that since you’re so good at it.”

Emma clapped her hands together, remembering that she’s mentioned Ivy’s secret talent to him before. “C’mon, Ivy! Show ‘em how it’s done.”

“No, no. Not tonight.” Ivy let out a nervous laugh and slowly sipped the beer. It wasn’t her favorite drink, but she wasn’t going to be rude and turn down the offer.

Niall let a smirk grow on his lips. “I need to witness this, too. C’mon, we’ll get ya another one.”

She shook her head again. “I can’t, I might throw up. I’ve had a few.”

“What is it, can she chug quick?” Cory asked, leaning his elbow on his knee as he was now curious with the excitement coming from them.

“Fast as fuck, Cory. I swear, she’s insane.” Emma said with a proud smile.

“She’s exaggerating.” Ivy shook her head, trying to hide her flushing cheeks by turning her head.

Niall stood up, his cup still full, and stepped around the table to where Ivy was sitting. He grabbed her hand and yanked her up to her feet, laughing as she stumbled but quickly caught herself. Emma was cheering her on, knowing that Niall was about to challenge her.

“C’mon! Let’s see who can finish first.” Niall said, hitting his cup against hers, the liquid sloshing around in the clear plastic.

She let out a heavy sigh and rolled her eyes at them, aware that she wouldn’t hear the end of it if she chose not to do it. She cleared her throat, took a deep breath, and nodded.

“Fine.”

Niall boasted with excitement, screaming like his favorite team just won a game. Emma watched with a wide grin, her hands clasped together - she hadn’t seen Ivy have this much fun in a while, so she was ecstatic over it. Cory counted them down from three. Ivy relaxed her throat and let the liquid flow into her mouth. She closed her eyes, trying to dissociate herself so that she didn’t think about drinking quickly. The trick was to forget what you were actually doing and just.. do it. She was fairly good at the trick, seeming to perfect it. Niall still had about a third of his beer left when she dropped the cup on the table, not a single drop let.

Michelle jumped up and raised her hands high, screeching loud as she felt like she witnessed a miracle. Emma was laughing hard at the drop of Cory’s jaw and the impressed smirk on Zayn’s face.

“Fuck.” Niall choked out as he finished, his hand covering his stomach as he felt the beer rushing down his body.

“It’s all in the throat.” Ivy joked as she gave him a playful shove.

Niall chuckled, patting her on the back as if she achieved something so great. “M’glad you’re better with your throat than I am with mine.”

“Wait, wait. Now I’m feeling competitive.” Cory said with a laugh, glancing at his own drink that was still full.

“I can do one more, but that’s it.” Ivy said, her stomach bubbling from the contents filling it.

“Here. I barely drank any.” Michelle offered up her beer, more focused on the entertainment than drinking it herself.

“C’mon, let’s do it.” Cory jumped up, ready to put his previous years of being in a fraternity to the test.

Niall led the count this time, and as soon as the word ‘go’ left his mouth, Ivy had her lips on the rim of the cup, tipping it back into her mouth. Everyone watched again with amazement as laughter and cheers filled the space they shared. Well, all but one let out a joyful noise. Harry was sitting against the back of the couch with his arm over his chest, watching but seeming to not be amused by it. He thought Cory was being a flirt and Niall was just weak because he couldn’t get it down quicker than this girl.

“Damn, you’re good.” Cory couldn’t even finish his drink, he just gave up.

Ivy sat back down next to Michelle, who was definitely her newest cheerleader. Michelle had heard some positive things about Ivy, so she was glad she was enjoying her company.

“I told you she was good.” Emma said with a smirk as if she had placed bets and won.

“Got a throat on you, for sure.” Cory sighed out as he fell against the couch, his gut churning.

Harry scoffed to himself. “Throat like a whore.”

Niall heard the comment, but he wasn’t sure who else did. He shot Harry a stern glare, but he obviously didn’t care. Michelle slid her arm around Ivy’s back and tightly gripped her shoulder, pulling them closer together.

“This girl is a champ.” She declared. “Welcome to the group, Ivy. You’re officially one of the girls.”

Cory lifted his hand in a pretend toast. “It was an honor to get my ass kicked.”

“That’s a talent right there.” Zayn added, having not said that much tonight but he was definitely paying attention.

“That’s kind of gross.” Harry added to the conversation, a cocky smirk on his lips as he looked away from Ivy.

She furrowed her brows lightly, catching what he said this time. “You’re probably just scared I’d beat you, too.”

It was most definitely the alcohol that was causing her to speak so freely to the person she knew the least about in the group of people surrounding her. Sure, she was confident in herself when she wasn’t sober and she wouldn’t let a rude comment slide by unnoticed, but she was ready to spit out another line if he tested her patience.

Harry snarled his lip up, not liking that she was speaking to him in that manner. “Please, you wish.”

Michelle was never one to shy away from talking back to Harry, so when she added a few words, Ivy was pleased to know she wasn’t fighting this battle alone. “You’re such a douche. You’d probably cry if she out drank you.”

Harry shot her a glance, but he wasn’t concerned with his friend’s comment. He wasn’t too content with the idea of some random girl he didn’t know coming into his circle of friends and grabbing all the attention. Maybe he was jealous, or maybe he really was just a douche.

“I wouldn’t be braggin’ about a loose throat.” He sat up, his elbows hitting his knees as he eyed Ivy with a cold stare. “Probably take down dicks faster than beer.”

Ivy didn’t feel comfortable with him staring at her like he wanted to throw his fists into her body. She pursed her lips in an effort to let it go, not wanting to start any unwanted drama among her newfound friends - well, some of them were friends. Emma nudged Niall and mumbled to him about controlling his friend, but Niall knew there wasn’t much he could do.

“Give it a rest, Harry.” He sighed out, knowing that if he didn’t at least try then Emma would be upset with him.

Harry let out an unamused laugh. “Truth hurts, Horan.”

“Y’don’t have to be a dick about it, Harry. Give the girl some respect.” Zayn added, taking a sip of his drink after. He was staring at the table, not even wanting to give Harry the extra attention of a spared glance.

“All m’saying is it’s not that impressive.” Harry shrugged, standing up so he could make an exit from the group and go occupy himself with something else. But before he walked away, he stopped in front of Michelle and let his eyes fall down to the girl he knew nothing about. “Does your mother know you drink like a grown man?”

“Har-“ Emma tried to quickly intervene, but it was too late. Ivy was already responding to him.

“My mom’s dead. So, no, probably not.” Her cold tone and narrowed eyes made

Harry gently furrowed his brows. He heard exactly what she said, but he didn’t seem to care. Niall got up to grab his elbow, knowing that he should do something before any more hurtful comments were made.

“C’mon.” He pulled Harry away from the seating area, mumbling something about him needing to relax.

“Sorry about him.” Cory was the first to apologize as Niall and Harry disappeared into the small crowd.

Ivy fell back against the couch, her arms crossing over her chest. She licked her lips and nodded to him, not wanting to talk for fear of losing control of her emotions. Michelle gently rested her hand atop Ivy’s thigh, not wanting to be too overbearing but hoping to give her some comfort.

“I’m sorry, Ivy. I told Niall to make sure he was nice tonight.” Emma frowned, knowing that the comment Harry made would haunt Ivy for the next few days, if not longer.

“Yeah, he’s a bit of a dick.” Michelle said, a disappointment expression covering her features. “He doesn’t do well with change and.. I guess you being here is changing things. But it’s not your fault.”

“It’s fine. I.. I’m just going to ignore it.”

Ivy felt a burn in her chest that wasn’t from the drinks she downed minutes ago. This was a type of feeling erupting from the insults she caught. She was so upset with what was said to her, not just the thing about her mother, but more than that.. she was confused as to what she did that warranted that sort of treatment. Had she been rude to him by not greeting him like she did the others? He was so standoffish though, he didn’t appear to want to be spoken to. He acted like she wasn’t even sitting there when he walked up, even though he looked at her when he saw her next to Michelle. Was something said about her to him from someone else that he didn’t find appealing? Had Zayn not liked her when they met the second time, perhaps he made a comment to Harry? No, she shook that thought off. Zayn seemed to enjoy her company.

Cory mentioned something about getting a few shots, to which Ivy just nodded and agreed that it would be fun. He left the girls and Zayn alone, which made Zayn start up a conversation. Ivy was listening, but she wasn’t contributing. All she could think about was the rude behavior Harry displayed towards her. Surely, there must have been something she did to him. She couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Over towards the beaded curtain that was rattling from the vibrations of the music pounding through the building, Niall stood in front of Harry with a clearly irritated look on his face. Harry leaned against the wall, listening with a blank stare as Niall scolded him.

“Are you fucking serious? Why are you so rude?” Niall spat out, throwing his hands up in the air as the disbelief stuck in his mind. “Emma invited her out, you have no right to be such a dick to her.”

“I don’t fuckin’ know the chick.” Harry shrugged, not caring to listen to Niall’s parenting but he knew he couldn’t escape just yet.

“It doesn’t matter, Harry. I told you she was going to be here tonight and to be fuckin’ polite to her. At least treat her like she’s a person and not a piece of garbage.”

Harry huffed and moved his eyes to Niall’s. “I don’t know her. I don’t care about being polite to her.”

Niall shook his head, not believing what he was hearing. “Get to fuckin’ know her then. She’s not going anywhere, that’s Emma’s friend. Act like you have sense.”

“Look, I didn’t fuckin’ know her mom was dead.”

Niall wanted to wring his neck, he wasn’t getting the point. “It doesn’t matter! Act nice. Pretend to have a fuckin’ heart for once.”

Harry pushed himself off the wall, the conversation now boring him. He gave Niall a wave before deciding it was best if he just found a distraction for the rest of the night. Niall couldn’t quite understand why he was being so rude to Ivy, but there was nothing else that he could say. If his words worked, then that would be a miracle.

Ivy sat there quietly for a handful of minutes, ignoring the small talk that was going on around the table. Her eyes were roaming out through the crowd that had thickened since Niall stormed off with Harry in tow. The pole fixed to the ceiling was now occupied by a dancer in a lace bodysuit, strategically placed rips and holes scattered on the fabric. She seemed to have some of the people’s attention. One person she didn’t have, though, was Harry, and Ivy took notice of that only because she saw him with his forearm secured around some woman’s waist. He had pulled her close to him, smirking and biting his lips as the woman spoke to him.

Ivy wasn’t intending on finding him in the crowd to gaze at him, it just sort of happened. She was unfamiliar with the surroundings, so her eyes fixated on something she recognized - even if it wasn’t the nicest person she’d ever met. He was completely unaware of anything happening around him, all he was concerned with was what lived between that woman’s legs. The sight of him groping her ass and leaning down to whisper things in her ear left a nasty taste in Ivy’s mouth. She found it unpleasant to witness. That sort of thing should be private.

Michelle suddenly interrupted her trance with a pat to her leg before she stood up. “Do you wanna dance?”

Ivy looked up and let out a nervous laugh. “I think I’m okay sitting here for a bit.”

Michelle groaned and grabbed her hand, tugging her up with all her strength. “C’mon! Let’s go have some fun!”

She couldn’t stop Michelle from dragging her into the crowd, so she just let it happen. Emma gave her an encouraging cheer before they vanished from the table. The girls were shoving between people to find a more open spot on the dance floor, and once Michelle was pleased with where they ended up, she turned towards Ivy and grabbed onto her waist. She decided it was best to just let all those thoughts about the things Harry said and the way he acted go. Tonight was meant for fun, not dwelling. She relaxed her body and began swaying to the music with Michelle.

“That ass!” Michelle teased in a loud shout as Ivy shook her hips to the song that was blasting through the ceiling.

All she could do was laugh as a layer of blush covered her cheeks. The music was rattling the building and the alcohol was still cycling through her veins. She was enjoying herself again, no longer fixated on that song or those comments. It wasn’t long until Emma and Niall appeared next to them. Emma turned towards them while Niall placed himself behind her, hands secured on her waist. The three of them danced and sang along with the music while Niall mostly laughed and kept his hands on Emma.

Ivy had been nervous about going out tonight - not only going to a new place, but meeting a group of new people. She was worried that her first impression wouldn’t be good, that they wouldn’t like the energy she brought. It was obvious that all of them, aside from Harry, actually enjoyed her company. Even though she didn’t get a chance to talk to a few of them, like Alyssa, the way she did Michelle, she was confident that her impression was well made. The pulsing of the music through her ears pushed out the thoughts regarding Harry. Maybe he was just in a bad mood, or maybe he was just a bitter person. She didn’t know for sure, and she didn’t care that much anymore.

Niall disappeared to get himself a beer, leaving Emma to take Ivy’s hand and lift it in the air, jumping to the beat of the song and screaming the lyrics. Michelle was thrilled to have another girl to be around, and she hoped that it wouldn’t be the last time they saw each other. She knew she’d have to beg Emma to let her and Ivy get together again. Ivy wasn’t surprised by Emma’s energetic, sober performance. She didn’t need alcohol running in her system to enjoy a good song. The night was starting to feel endless and free, in the best way. That wouldn’t last too long, though.

At some point, her eyes were absentmindedly looking over Michelle’s shoulder and were pretty much out of focus until her brain registered that familiar face again. Harry. She tried to look away, but she couldn’t force herself to as she saw that same woman he was with earlier place her lips on his. Something deep inside of her gut churned and she furrowed her brows at her own thoughts. She shook her head lightly and cut her eyes away from them. Almost as if there was a gravitational pull she couldn’t stop, her eyes shifted back to him after a few seconds.

His hair was slick with sweat, his curls shining under the flashing lights. The sweat on his skin shined like diamonds as the woman ran her hand down his forearm. Her nails scratched over the tattoo he showed off at the shop, veins popped out and skin tight around his muscles. It was like she noticed every single thing about him. Someone got in her way, blocking her view entirely. She huffed and looked towards Emma, who was still singing happily to the song playing.

Ivy was genuinely confused as to why she was thinking about him so much. Why did she care what he was doing? Why did she care who he was with? She hardly knew him. She rolled her eyes to herself and lifted her head in time to see Niall walking up, three drinks in his hand. He offered one to her and one to Michelle. They cheered together, laughing as Niall stumbled his way back to Emma. She jumped back into the song and started singing again, enjoying herself for the rest of the night.

—•—

When morning rolled over, Ivy didn’t move an inch in her bed until well after eleven o’clock. She knew Emma would sleep in with Niall, so she didn’t bother trying to be up before them. Niall stayed over every now and then, and of course he always requested a meal be made if the girls were up for it. Ivy was put on breakfast duty since Emma said she’s better at it. Niall slurred a quick beg to her last night before Emma drug him to the bedroom to get changed and tucked in. Ivy agreed to it, despite knowing her head would be pounding in the morning.

And it most definitely was. She groaned as she squeezed her eyes shut, the sunlight peeking through the curtains was enough to blind her. There was no point in sleeping any more of the day away, so she reluctantly got out of the bed after taking a few minutes to compose herself. Her arms stretched high above her head, her back popping as she twisted slightly. She sighed in relief, a weight was lifted from her as her body contorted with her stretches and groans.

Her trip to the bathroom presented her with a horrific reflection in the mirror. Her makeup had not been properly removed before she fell into her bed last night, and her hair was a wreck. She debated on taking a shower, but eventually decided it would be best to get it over with. Emma and Niall were still passed out down the hall, so she wasn’t worried about waking anyone or not having the food done in time. Niall would definitely still want breakfast no matter the time.

After her quick shower, she got changed into a set of loungewear and headed to the kitchen. She gathered all the items from the refrigerator and the cabinets, staying mindful of Niall’s large appetite. He did say he would throw in some money on their next grocery run, so she wasn’t concerned with rationing any particular item. She wasn’t in there very long by herself. Emma strolled in after a few minutes, having smelled the food starting to cook.

“Good morning, sunshine.” Ivy smirked as she saw Emma’s tired expression and tangled hair.

“Morning.” She mumbled back. “Niall slept like an animal last night.”

“Did he move around a lot?”

Emma groaned. “A lot? He moved constantly. Usually he doesn’t. I’m so tired.”

Ivy held back a laugh and just smiled. Emma sat down at the dining table, her eyes focused on what Ivy was doing. She just watched in silence for a while, too tired to say anything. They were by themselves for the majority of the cooking process. The bedroom door opened down the hall, but the bathroom door shut moments after. Niall spent a bit of time in the bathroom, which made Emma groan and hope that he wasn’t throwing up or suffering a bad hangover. He had quite a few drinks.

Eventually, almost the same time the food was ready, he walked in the kitchen with a smile on his face. Emma rolled her eyes as he tried to give her a kiss and a hug, and an apology about sleeping so roughly. Ivy let out a chuckle as he threw his hands up in defeat.

“Thanks for cooking, Ivy.” Niall said once he fixed his plate and sat down at the table with them.

“You’re welcome.”

Emma looked up from her plate and gave Niall a stern glare. He was confused at first, but when she shot her gaze to Ivy, he miraculously remembered the conversation they had in the middle of the night when he woke Emma up complaining about his head hurting. It took them a while to fall back asleep, so they just talked for a bit.

He cleared his throat after taking a sip of his water. “Um, Ivy.”

She looked his way. “Yeah?”

Niall took in a deep breath and slowly pushed it out. He seemed a bit hesitant at first, but he was trying to figure out what to say. He licked his lips and leaned back in his chair, forgetting the food for now.

“I want to apologize to you.”

Ivy dropped her brows, spared Emma a glance, then looked back to him. “What?”

He lightly sighed. “Harry.”

She was still unsure what Niall meant for a few moments, but suddenly everything came crashing back into her mind. She adjusted herself in the chair and started picking at the pancake with her fork, not really wanting to bring it back up but knowing she can’t avoid it now.

“It’s fine, Niall.”

“No, it isn’t.” Emma said, just as embarrassed by the situation as Niall was.

“He said some shitty things to you.. and I’m sorry. I.. I didn’t want that to happen, none of us did. Zayn sent me a text this morning telling me to tell you he was sorry, too.”

Ivy a wallowed gently, surprised that someone else had reached out about the situation. She thought what happened was unfortunate, but she didn’t think she’d receive such a reaction from them. Emma had a frown fixed on her lips as she kept her eyes on Niall, waiting for him to continue.

“The last thing Emma and I wanted was for you to think our friends didn’t like you. They do, they really do. I can’t speak for him but.. the rest of us are sorry.”

“Niall, it’s not that big of a deal, I promise.” Ivy tried to sail past it, but it wasn’t going to go down that easy.

“Yes it is, Ivy.” He breathed out. “He’s an ass and he says some messed up things. We’re all used to it.. and you aren’t. You shouldn’t have been spoken to that way.”

For a second, she was just ready to ignore it all again, but she changed her mind. Niall was genuinely upset and trying his best to make up for it, and she could tell Emma felt the same way. She remembered how everyone reacted when Harry said what he said last night. She thought about the way she saw Cory pinch his nose and shake his head in disbelief, and how Alyssa smacked Zayn’s arm in an attempt to get him to intervene. She remembered all the little things each of them did and how they all seemed to be in shock, embarrassed, or annoyed with it.

“Okay.. I accept the apology.” She finally said, trying to give him the best smile she could. “I promise, it’s okay.”

“I’ll beat his ass if he says something like that to you again.” Emma crossed her arms over her chest and huffed.

Niall couldn’t resist laughing at her, and Ivy quickly joined her. Although the previous night had a rollercoaster of events, she was glad that she had this new group of people to consider as her friends. For now, she’d just forget about Harry and focus on the positive memories she was able to create. As far as she was concerned, she would be perfectly fine if she never saw him again.

[a/n: I’ve been very sick these past few days but I wanted to get this out so pls ignore any spelling mistakes and all that, I’ll fix them later. if you want to be on the taglist, let me know! anyways, hope you enjoy this! love uuu! Also just a reminder that while this is lhh, he’s older in this series than actual lhh was]

** if you’re here for a reread, i did change this character to an oc so she has a name now!!

taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @victoriasigaard @ariiscringe @harlowsgirl l @lomllover @haniaaa04 @sideboobrry11 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @fangirl509east @fruity-harry @sassamanda77 @lizsogolden @prettygurl-2009 @boopookie @mypolicemanharryyy

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