#it's that enemies to lovers stuff | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sapphic-coded · 11 months ago

Note

Yes.

Request if ur taking them: hella smutty enemies to lovers w nat and female reader… like dom nat is interrogating/torturing r w sex like not letting us come etc unless we give over the information

Interrogation. | N.R

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! Sex Machine, Sex as „Torture“, begging, restraints, edging, Clit play, multiple orgasm, overstimulation

Word Count: 2,7k

A/N: Uhm..MAYBE I got carried away..

The battle had been fierce, and the aftermath was a testament to the clash between the Avengers and you. Debris and rubble covered the once pristine SHIELD facility. The air was thick with dust and the smell of burnt metal. Amidst the chaos, you lay on the ground, breathing heavily, your eyes full of defiance and a hint of amusement.

Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, stood over you, her face a mask of determination. She knelt down and pinned your arms behind your back with practiced ease. You struggled, but Natasha’s grip was ironclad.

“It’s over.” Natasha said, her voice deep and firm. You smirked mockingly, your eyes meeting Natasha’s. “You seem pretty confident, Agent Romanoff.”

Natasha ignored the provocation and reached for the handcuffs on her belt. “I’ve had enough of your games. It’s time to put an end to this.”

As Natasha secured a cuff around your wrist, you laughed breathlessly. “Oh, careful, these are kind of my thing,” you said with a mischievous grin. Without hesitation, Natasha tightened her grip, “Come on! You don’t have to be so rough. We could have some fun instead.”

But she pressed your check into the dirt, her knee firmly in your back to prevent any movement. “Keep talking, and you’ll find out how rough I can be.“ Natasha hissed, her tone dripping with menace. “The fun is over. You’ve been causing trouble for too long.”

You writhed and twisted, trying to break free, but Natasha’s hold was unyielding. “You’re no fun..” you muttered, your voice muffled by the ground.

Natasha tightened the cuffs on your wrists. “And if you weren’t so insistent on being a villain, you might actually be worth my time.”

You tried to sit up, looking around as if searching for an escape route or an opportunity. “Don’t even think about it,” Natasha warned, increasing the pressure with her knee. You groaned but stopped struggling, though your eyes still roamed.

SHIELD agents were still securing the area, their movements quick and efficient. Natasha had to wait for the all-clear signal before she could take you to the waiting vehicle. The minutes dragged on, filled with the distant sounds of agents clearing debris and securing the area.

“You really won’t let up, will you?” you said, your tone a mix of frustration and reluctant admiration. “No.” Natasha replied curtly. You sighed dramatically but didn’t resist further. “You know, I was serious about the restraints.. Maybe one day you’ll take me up on that offer.”

Natasha didn’t respond, her eyes scanning the surroundings until she received a nod from a nearby agent. She finally relaxed, pulling you to your feet with a swift motion. Her grip remained firm as she led you to the waiting vehicle.

“Let’s go,” Natasha ordered, pushing you forward. You stumbled slightly but caught yourself, your defiant gaze never wavering.

As you reached the vehicle, Natasha secured you inside before taking a seat herself. The doors closed with a heavy thud, sealing your fate. As the vehicle drove away, you couldn’t help but admire the vie, not of the receding landscape, but of the relentless agent who had finally captured you.

The ride in the vehicle was silent, your attempts at conversation met only with Natasha’s stony silence. Upon arrival at the SHIELD headquarters, you were escorted through a series of sterile corridors, your wrists still firmly bound. Eventually, you were deposited in an interrogation room, the door closing with a resounding click behind you.

Natasha stood outside the room, watching you through the one-way window. Director Fury approached, his expression as inscrutable as ever.

“Anyone getting her to talk?” Fury asked. Natasha shook her head. “Not yet. But I have an idea.” Fury raised an eyebrow. “Do tell.”

“I want to try a different approach,” Natasha said, her eyes never leaving you. “Something that requires a bit more… hands-on work.”

Fury’s gaze followed hers, a knowing look crossing his face. “You think you can break her?” Natasha’s lips curled into a slight smile. “I know I can.”

Fury considered for a moment, then nodded. “Alright. Do what you have to. Just make sure we get the information we need.”

Natasha gave a curt nod and turned to a couple of nearby agents. “Bring her to Room B.”

The agents obeyed, entering the room to escort you to the new location. You, always quick to notice a change, looked curiously between the agents and Natasha. “Tired of the room already?”

Natasha didn’t respond, her expression remaining impassive as she followed the agents and you down another corridor. They stopped before a reinforced door, which opened to reveal a stark, dimly lit room. In the center of the room, chains hung from the ceiling.

Your eyes widened slightly as you saw the setup, a slow grin spreading across your face. “Oh, Natasha, you really know how to treat a girl.”

Natasha stepped forward, her gaze steady. “Keep talking and you will see where it takes you.“ You laughed, the sound echoing off the bare walls. “You almost had me fooled. I mean, you’ve got chains hanging from the ceiling. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to spoil me.”

The agents finished their task and stepped back. Now you hung from your wrists, your feet barely touching the ground. Natasha approached you, her expression cold and calculating.

“You like to talk,” Natasha said, her voice low and menacing. “But now you’re going to listen.” Your smile faded slightly as you saw the determination in Natasha’s eyes. “Are you going to torture me for information?”

Natasha leaned close to your ear, her breath warm against your skin. “Kind of.”

Natasha knew exactly how to handle this situation. She had done her homework and knew your psychological profile. Natasha’s plan was unorthodox, but she knew it would be effective.

With a swift motion, Natasha signaled to a control panel on the wall. A mechanical hum filled the room as a device descended from the ceiling, its purpose unmistakable. Your eyes widened in surprise and something else..anticipation.

“You know, if you didn’t insist on being a villain, you might actually enjoy this,” Natasha said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Your defiance wavered, replaced by a mix of excitement and apprehension. “You wouldn’t…”

Natasha’s grin returned. “Oh, but I would. You see, Y/n, everyone has a breaking point. And I’m going to find yours.”

The device was now perfectly positioned, and Natasha activated it. The gentle vibrations began, and your body tensed in the restraints. You tried to hide your reactions, but Natasha could see right through you.

“Let’s see how long you can maintain that attitude,” Natasha said, her voice a silky purr. “Tell me what I need to know.”

You bit your lip, trying to maintain your composure. “Do you really think this will work? That I’ll just spill everything because of a little… pleasure?”

Natasha’s eyes darkened. “I think you’ll be surprised at how persuasive it can be.” The intensity of the device increased, and your breathing grew heavier. You tried to turn away, but the restraints held you firmly in place. Natasha watched you closely, knowing that your resolve would eventually crumble.

Minutes passed, and the room was filled with the sounds of your labored breaths and stifled moans. Natasha remained silent, her eyes never leaving your face. She knew exactly when your resistance began to waver.

“Ready to talk?” Natasha asked, her voice gentle but commanding. Your eyes met Natasha’s, filled with a mix of defiance and desperation. “I- I won’t… give in…”

Natasha leaned closer, her lips brushing your ear. “We’ll see about that.” The vibrations continued, pushing you closer to the edge. Natasha could see how close you were, your body trembling with the effort to hold back. Just as you were on the verge, Natasha deactivated the device, leaving you gasping for breath. FUCK, you thought. You glared at Natasha, your eyes burning with a mix of anger and desire. “You’re playing dirty.”

Natasha’s expression remained impassive. “All you have to do is talk, and this can be over.” You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts. “I’m not telling you anything.”

Natasha grinned. “Then we continue.”

She reactivated the device, and the cycle began anew. Natasha watched intently, noting every reaction, every tremble. She knew the female body well, knew how to read the signs of an approaching climax. Every time you got close, Natasha would stop, leaving you teetering on the edge.

“You’re… a real piece of work,” you panted, your body glistening with sweat. “Thank you,” Natasha replied coolly. “Now, tell me what I need to know.”

Your resolve weakened, your body betraying you. You wanted to resist, to keep your secrets, but Natasha’s relentless game wore you down. “Alright..” you gasped, desperation in your voice. “I’ll talk!“

Natasha is stepping closer to you. “Start talking.” You took a shaky breath, your body still trembling. “I… I was hired by HYDRA… to infiltrate SHIELD. They wanted… information on your operations… your weaknesses..“ Natasha nodded, her expression unreadable. “Who hired you? Names, Y/n.”

“Dr. Zola!” you admitted barely audibly. “He… he was the one who contacted me..“ Natasha’s eyes narrowed. “Where can we find him?”

You hesitated, and Natasha reached for the control panel again. „No, wait! I’ll tell you! He’s… he’s in a hidden facility… in the Alps. I can give you the coordinates!”

Natasha nodded, satisfied. “Good.”

You couldn’t help but feel a sense of triumph. You had managed to deceive Natasha and keep your secrets. But your victory was short-lived.

“Did you enjoy your break?” Natasha asked, her voice deceptively calm. Your smugness wavered. “What do you mean?”

Natasha walked towards you slowly, each step calculated. “Do you think I'm stupid? That I would let you off that easily?”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

Natasha grinned, a predatory look in her eyes. “Oh, this is going to be fun for me.” Natasha stepped closer to you, her voice now a seductive whisper. “You see, Y/n, I know exactly how your mind works. Now, you’re going to learn the true meaning of torture.”

The vibrations began again, this time more intense and relentless. Your body reacted immediately, and Natasha watched with a knowing smile.

“I see you’re already close,” Natasha said, her voice dripping with mocking sympathy. “But this time, I won’t stop. I’m going to push you past every limit you have.”

You gasped, your body tensing as the device did its work. Natasha leaned in, her breath hot against your ear. “Tell me, Y/n. How does it feel to be outsmarted?”

Your breaths came in ragged bursts, your body on the brink. “When I get out of here-” Natasha’s smile widened. “Answers.Now.”

Your resolve shattered as you realized the futility of resistance. You spilled everything, your words a desperate rush. “Fuck! The facility is in the Carpathians, not the Alps. Zola… H-He is there, with a team! They’re developing a new Bio weapon!”

Natasha nodded, her eyes never leaving your face. “Good girl. See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” However, she didn’t stop. Instead, she increased the intensity. Your eyes widened in shock. “I told the truth!”

Natasha’s expression was cold and unyielding. “This is for lying earlier. You need to learn that there are consequences.”

Your body convulsed as you were pushed past your limit, your pleas turning into incoherent screams. Natasha watched impassively, making sure you learned your lesson.

She placed her hand on your body, her fingers stroking and teasing expertly, amplifying the overstimulation. Her touch was precise, knowing exactly how to drive you over the edge repeatedly.

“Do you feel that, Y/n?” Natasha whispered seductively. “I can do this all night. You won’t find any relief until I’m satisfied.”

Your eyes begged for mercy, but Natasha’s resolve was ironclad. „God, this Face is so cute..“ She continued her relentless torture, pushing you to multiple, agonizingly intense orgasms. Each time you thought you couldn’t take any more, Natasha found a new way to amplify the pleasure, keeping you on the brink of madness.

“You belong to me now,” Natasha said, her voice a velvety purr. “Every time you lie to me, this is what you’ll get.”

Your body shook uncontrollably, your mind barely holding on. Natasha’s hand moved to your clit, her fingers circling with expert precision. The overstimulation was unbearable, driving you over the edge again and again.

“Please… no more…” you pleaded, your voice barely a whisper. Natasha’s smile was one of cold satisfaction. “Remember this feeling, Y/n. This is what happens when you cross me.”

Natasha leaned in one last time, her voice a deadly whisper. “Next time, think twice before you try to deceive me.”

“S-Should I apologize!? Is that what you want to h-hear?” you cried, your voice breaking. “I’m sorry, there y-you have it! Now turn it o-” You gasped, your words cut off by a shattering climax that coursed through you.

Natasha’s smile was triumphant, but she didn’t stop the machine. Instead, she leaned closer, her breath hot against your skin. “You’re so sweet.”

Your body writhed, your mind a haze of pleasure and pain. “N-Natasha!” you gasped, your voice barely a whisper. “Please…”

Natasha stepped closer, her hands now working in tandem with the machine. Her fingers found your clit again. Your eyes widened, a fresh wave of pleasure crashing over you. “No… no, please… I can’t take it…!“ you begged, your voice a hoarse whisper.

“Oh, yes, you can,” Natasha replied, her voice dripping with dark amusement. “And you will.” Natasha knew you weren’t in any real pain, just overwhelmed by pleasure. She knew your body so well, every sensitive spot mapped in her mind. She could sense your inner conflict, your head shaking in defiance while your body responded with undeniable arousal. Deep down, you agreed, unable to deny the raw pleasure coursing through your veins.

Your body arched, your mind a whirl of sensations. Natasha’s fingers and the relentless machine worked in harmony, driving you to heights of pleasure you hadn’t thought possible. Every touch, was designed to break you, to make you completely surrender.

“Say it again.” Natasha whispered, her breath hot against your ear. Your voice was a broken sob. “I’m sorry… Please… Please…” you repeated, your body trembling violently.

“Good girl,” Natasha cooed, her fingers never pausing. “But I want more. I want you to scream for me.” And you did. Your body writhed, every nerve on fire. You were sure you would die from the sheer intensity of the pleasure, your mind shattered, your will completely broken. Natasha’s hands were everywhere, her touch both torment and balm.

Her fingers moved with expert precision, finding the perfect spot that made you jerk violently in your restraints. “Ah, there it is,” Natasha purred, holding your hips steady as she intensified the stimulation. “I knew you had it in you.”

Your eyes rolled back, your body arching helplessly against the relentless pleasure. “FUCK… PLEASE… I’m begging you…!!”

“Beg all you want,” Natasha whispered, her voice deep and sensual. “I love hearing you beg. Where’s your attitude now, hm?” Natasha taunted, her fingers never slowing. “You were so defiant before. What happened?”

“I…I..” your voice was a breathless sob, your body trembling with the intensity of your orgasm.

Natasha’s fingers continued their merciless assault, finding every sensitive spot and exploiting it ruthlessly. Your body arched, your mind breaking under the sheer intensity of the pleasure. You were sure you would die from it, your will completely shattered under Natasha’s expert touch.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Natasha slowed the machine and her fingers, giving you a moment to catch your breath. She leaned close, her lips brushing your ear. “You did good,” she murmured. “But remember, there’s always more to tell, more to give.”

Your breaths came in ragged gasps, your body sagging in the restraints. In that moment, you knew you were utterly and completely at Natasha’s mercy. And there was nothing you could do about it.

#fic recs #it's that enemies to lovers stuff #my fave

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noorpersona · 1 month ago

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Hii !! ♡(˃͈ ˂͈ )

A little near a month ago I found your account and have been hooked on your writing! Like genuinely you characterise everyone so well and your writing is just so perfect (T⌓T) I know you get this all the time but I really mean it you are my favourite author on here without a doubt

I've been loving your rivals series SO MUCH and was wondering if you could do an NSFW Ushijima x reader situation?

I hope you have an amazing day (´• ᴗ •̥`✿)

Hiii <333 Your words are so sweet, I'm so happy i got around to your request hehe caus its very yummy. Definitely a part two is headed your way... and spicy ;)

Enjoy<33

Rivalry: Ushijima

It started the first day you walked into the gym.

Ponytail slung over one shoulder, clipboard under your arm, tie knotted too loose against a blouse that didn’t quite match school code. You weren’t late—but you walked in like you were doing them a favor by showing up at all. Your steps echoed sharp across the hardwood, rubber soles and attitude both hitting at full force.

You paused mid-stride, scanned the room, then raised one hand in a casual wave as if greeting old friends. "Why don’t we play music during warm-up? That’s depressing as hell."

The sentence dropped like a cinderblock. Every conversation froze. Tendou choked on his water. Semi looked up from taping his fingers and just blinked. Goshiki audibly gasped like you’d just committed sacrilege. Even Coach Washijou paused mid-note, pen hovering above his clipboard.

You blinked like you didn’t realize you'd said anything unusual, flashing a grin as if you’d already won something.

Ushijima hadn’t said a word. He just stared at you with that heavy, unreadable silence of his. In his mind, the label was immediate: irritant. Too loud, too impulsive, too unserious. She’ll be a disruption, he thought. And he was right.

You’d been with them nearly two years now. And to his complete dismay, you had not only proven yourself an effective manager—you had managed to wedge yourself beneath his skin like a splinter he couldn’t ignore.

On paper, you were everything a coach could want. Organized. Efficient. You remembered stats like a machine, kept meticulous logs, planned trips to the second, and answered press questions with a calm grace that rivaled any professional. You were technically perfect.

But you were also loud. Opinionated. You didn’t walk, you prowled. You gave everyone nicknames they didn’t ask for, cracked jokes mid-stretch, and had once drawn an anatomically questionable caricature of Coach Washijou on the team whiteboard that stayed up for a week. You were chaos wrapped in a school uniform. And somehow, everyone adored you for it.

Especially the team. Tendou egged you on constantly. Semi tried to act above it, but even he cracked grins when you were around. Goshiki blushed bright red whenever you leaned over him to check notes, and Reon always made sure you had a spare chair next to his.

They loved you. And that was a problem. Because Ushijima couldn’t stand how much he noticed you.

He told himself it was irritation. That the reason his eyes followed you was because you were disruptive. But it wasn’t that. Not anymore. Somewhere along the way, the awareness of you had shifted. It was in the way your laugh lingered long after you left a room. The way his gaze found you first whenever he entered one. The way your teasing, infuriating voice stayed in his head longer than his own thoughts. You weren’t just a disruption anymore. You were a fixation.

And he hated that.

Practice had ended nearly twenty minutes ago. Most of the team had already filtered out, some slapping towels at each other, others muttering about dinner plans. But you hadn’t left. You never did until he did.

You lingered like a shadow at the edge of the gym, leaning lazily against the wall as you watched him.

"Still punishing the ball for losing, Wakatoshi?"

He caught it mid-bounce and turned toward you, expression grim, eyes sharper than usual. You were in your usual end-of-day state—hair piled messily on your head, jacket tied around your waist, and that clipboard still glued to your side. He wondered if you ever let yourself be still. He doubted it.

“Need you to sign these for Coach,” you said, strolling up like you hadn’t just committed volleyball treason. “Year-end reports. Budgets. Dreams. Regrets. All the greatest hits.”

Ushijima didn’t say a word as he took the clipboard. His eyes scanned the top page with clinical precision, but you noticed the way his jaw ticked. The little muscle near his temple fluttered. A tiny, telltale crack in the calm.

You lingered a step away, leaning on one leg. “Also, Tendou left his knee brace again. I was gonna hide it in the ball cart as revenge but I’m trying to be a better person.”

The page turned with more force than necessary. Not a full rip—but the threat was there.

“Coach said to schedule a final practice match,” he said, voice flat.

You blinked. Then smiled—slow and deliberate.

“Yeah,” you said, breezy, “and I talked him out of it.”

His gaze lifted with a slowness that could have been mistaken for calm if it weren’t for the way he locked onto you like a goddamn laser sight. His posture changed—nothing dramatic, but all at once he was taller, broader, coiled tight like a rubber band one twist from snapping. You could feel the tension radiating off him like heat off sunbaked concrete.

“You went behind my back,” he said. The words were barely a sound. More like a growl, tucked into his chest.

You just raised both brows. “You make it sound so dramatic. It was a conversation. I made my case. Coach agreed. That’s not sabotage, it's persuasion.”

The clipboard creaked beneath his grip. You saw it now—his knuckles, white. His throat bobbing with a swallowed word. The slight tremor running through his arms like his own control was betraying him. And naturally, you stepped closer.

“Woah,” you murmured, voice dipping to something low and delighted. “Are you shaking, Ushijima?”

His eyes darkened.

“That decision wasn’t yours to make.”

“Neither was losing to Karasuno, but it still happened,” you shot back.

“You undermined me.”

“I protected the team.”

“You acted without me.”

“Because you don’t listen when you’re pissed!” you snapped, and for a moment, it wasn’t playful. “You’d drive them into the floor just to claw back one more win that’s not coming.”

Another step forward. You were close now. Not quite touching, but close enough to feel the heat rolling off him. He looked at you like he wanted to bury something into the wall—rage flickering in his eyes, shoulders square and trembling under the weight of holding himself back. His breath hitched in that way people do when they’re about to yell or—do something else.

You tilted your chin, smirking. “Any harder of a glare and I'll be six-feet under.”

His silence was deafening. Then, in a voice gritted and bitten off at the ends: “I can’t stand you.”

You snorted. “Yeah, that’s why I catch you staring at me during every water break. Real subtle by the way.”

He flinched. Just slightly. Enough to make your grin bloom.

“You're a virus,” he muttered. “An irritant. You dig in and stay.”

You leaned in closer—nose nearly brushing his. “Say it like I’m not your favorite headache.”

His fists clenched tighter at his sides. His whole body trembled, jaw wired shut, eyes boring into you with something wild behind them. You held his gaze for one beat too long. Two.

Then stepped back.

“Anyway. No match. Final answer.”

You turned with a hum and tossed your voice over your shoulder as the gym door creaked open. “Try meditation or something, big guy. Realign those chakras. Might help with the rage.”

The door clicked shut behind you.

Behind it, there was a sharp, violent sound—an unmistakable, echoing pop. The volleyball in his grip had split open beneath his palm. Rubber and air hissed free from the sudden rupture, the seams blown wide from sheer force. He didn’t even look down at it. Just stood there in the middle of the gym, breath heavy, pulse roaring in his ears, jaw tight enough to splinter.

You were a virus.

But God help him—he wasn’t sure he wanted the cure.

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narrycherries · 6 months ago

Text

ivy: how’s one to know..

Harry is just an ass and she’s just a stranger.

masterlist // ivy series

word count: 8.6k

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

[before you start: i edited this bc i ended up giving her name back to her, it’s no longer (y/n) but of course feel free to read it however you want and change the descriptors to whatever you prefer!]

The holiday season had wrapped up a handful of days ago and things were slowly starting to go back to normal. The sparkling strings of lights decorating neighborhoods and businesses all around the city were being taken down and shoved back in their storage boxes until the last month of the year circled around again. The weather was staying consistent, though. The gloomy overcast skies and chilly wind that whipped through the streets were enough to keep people bundled up and wishing for spring to arrive.

Most people she knew enjoyed the holidays a lot more than she did. Sure, she loved to see the colorful lights lining roofs and windows of boutiques and restaurants along the main strip. There was something so juvenile, so innocent about the giddy feeling that would fill her stomach as she saw a pile of fake presents and a decorated tree in a shop window. Somewhere deep down inside of her heart, she still had that spark that a child would have.

When she was growing up, she sought happiness during the holidays by admiring other people’s outdoor decorations or gazing in awe at the displays put up in her schools. She didn’t have what most people had that she went to school with, but she tried to be grateful, even as a young chlid, and appreciate what surrounded her.

A strong sadness was building in her chest as she slid the ceramic Santa Claus into his box to pack him away with the other Christmas decorations. She thought about the many years she questioned if Santa was real. There were so many nights when she’d squeeze her eyes shut and whisper out loud, her knees on the floor as she put her elbows into the mattress. There was so much hope in her. She believed that if she wished and prayed and dreamed enough, Santa would leave a present or two on the coffee table next to her dad’s stained coffee mug. There wasn’t a tree most of the years of her childhood, but her dad give gift her things (there was no magical Santa though). There were no twinkling lights outside of her window, hanging down from the roof with a clumsy droop. There were no ornaments to place on the branches of a fake tree, lined with a dusty skirt that would be covered with presents. There were no fresh baked cookies and steaming hot chocolate topped with marshmallows. The television never displayed joyful Christmas movies and specials. The radio on the kitchen counter never once sang a tune of a wintery song about snow and ice. No, none of that. It was just her dad, her brother, and herself for a while.

“Did you keep the box for this guy?” Emma’s curious voice snapped her from her trance.

She cleared her throat and looked up from her spot on the living room rug. Her ‘new’ roommate was holding a ceramic snowman who’s decorated style matched the Santa she just put away. She reached into the plastic storage container and grabbed the box, passing it up to Emma.

“Here you go.”

“Thanks, Ivy.” She smiled back, noticing that there was a glimmer of disappoint on her face, but she didn’t mention it to her. “You didn’t have to put everything away so fast. I would’ve been fine with it for a few more weeks.”

Emma had just moved in before Christmas. Her things were half way unpacked throughout the small house they now shared.

“I didn’t want it to crowd you. Besides, Christmas is over.” Ivy’s tone was partially rough as she began to pack away the miniature houses placed across the console table that the television hung above.

“I’m so excited to actually be here, like, full time. Niall’s a bit upset.. but I told him he’d survive.” She said with a laugh as she started to collect the small figurines that went with the village.

“I’m excited, too. I’m glad you’re actually up for decorating the space and not just.. letting me do it all. My last roommate was not particularly outgoing.” Ivy snickered at the thought, knowing she wouldn’t be missing that person at all. The girl was nice and all, but she was quite boring.

“Oh, totally! I’ve already got some stuff I want to show you in my room. Maybe we could put it out here or something.”

“I’m fine with anything as long as it’s cute.” She shot her friend a grin.

Emma wasn’t a new friend by any means. They met early on while they were both at university. Emma was actually her first partner for a project in one of their biology classes. They met on the third day of class and became friends very quickly. Their chemistry went far beyond the confines of the science lab. Emma was joyful and adventurous and offered Ivy that motivating spark to actually go out and have fun. Not that Ivy couldn’t match Emma’s energy once her veins were filled with alcohol, she just didn’t go out as much.

“Speaking of Niall, I haven’t seen him a while. How’s he doing?”

A proud smile crept to Emma’s lips. “He’s been good. But he’s been super busy with the store.. almost never get to spend time during the actual day with him.”

“But it’s going well, the store, I mean? Like he’s having success?”

Emma nodded. “It’s been great. I told him it would do good around here, especially with the college students. And besides, people are always looking for music lessons. I’m glad he took my advice and decided to offer those through the business.”

Niall was an excellent musician, or so Ivy has been told. She hadn’t actually seen him play anything in person, only through recordings and videos Emma had shown her. She knew Niall was talented, though. He played the guitar and the bass, both of which seemed entirely too complicated in Ivy’s mind. When they started dating last year, Niall was in the midst of finalizing a business plan and opening his music store. Emma told her all about it, including her fears and anxiety about the situation - but only because she was afraid Niall would get so caught up in the store that he would abandon their relationship. Niall ended up not doing that, obviously, and was able to balance everything in his life. He and Emma would be celebrating their one year anniversary on Valentine’s Day - which Ivy thought was particularly sweet and romantic.

“I’m glad everything’s working out.”

The store opened back in the summer, and Ivy had only gone by once to see the place. It was in a part of town she didn’t frequent very often, so the opportunity to casually stroll in was rare. It wasn’t like it was Emma’s store. While she did know Niall well enough to refer to him as a friend, she wasn’t close with him. She was supportive, of course, but not overly involved.

“He’s coming by later to help me put together the dresser. Well.. he’s going to do it for me, not help me.” She snickered as she joined Ivy on the floor to start gently laying the mini figurines in a small cardboard box they knew as home.

“I can make dinner if you’d like. Niall likes that pasta I make, right?”

“Yeah! He actually asked me about that a few weeks ago. He said I have to get your recipe.” She grinned back, rolling her eyes at the thought of her boyfriend’s obsession with food.

“He’s only had it like twice.. but it’s flattering to know I’m such a good chef.” Ivy laughed under her breath. “I’ll give you the recipe.”

The rest of the afternoon was spent on putting away the last of the decorations and moving them into the hallway closet. The box fit perfectly in the bottom of the closet. Emma disappeared into her room to continue unboxing her belongings. Ivy was mostly occupied with dusting the wood furniture and wiping down the kitchen. She liked a neat, tidy home and she was very glad to know that Emma did as well. She checked the cabinets to make sure she had the ingredients required for the pasta she’ll be making later on.

Every now and then, she’d hear a crash of something hitting the floor come from the hallway, presumably from Emma’s room. She would just giggle to herself as Emma’s dramatic cries of curses and sighs would fill the small home. Despite being friends for a handful of years, they had never lived in the same space before. Even while at university when it was mandatory for them to live on campus, they lived in different dorm buildings. Emma was in a sorority and definitely more comfortable with herself than Ivy was. She kept to her small dorm with her roommate, whom she didn’t have anything in common with but she was kind to her. If she were being honest, she thought Emma would try to move in with Niall once her old lease had expired. But, Niall was comfortable where he was in his apartment and he already had a roommate. As much as Emma wanted to live with him, it was just too soon anyway. They tossed around the idea, but Ivy mentioned to her that perhaps she needed to wait, just in case. Niall wasn’t upset with Emma’s decision to move elsewhere, as long as she was in the city close to him. Ivy was also informed that Niall’s roommate wasn’t too keen on letting someone else share their space. She had never met him before, didn’t even know his name, but she couldn’t blame them. She wouldn’t want her house to be permanently crowded either. Niall let Emma stay over there a lot, though, but spending the night for the weekend or on a random weekday when it was too late to drive back home was different than staying full time. And of course, Niall was allowed over whenever he wanted and she made that clear to Emma before she signed the lease. As long as he respected their home and didn’t leave a mess behind, he was welcomed.

A gentle sigh slipped past her thick lips as she trailed back to the living room. The open concept of the front of the home meant the living room was attached to the kitchen with no barrier other than the island. She sat down on the end of the couch, the damp kitchen towel she used to wipe down the furniture sat on the side table. She picked it up, along with the framed photo that was next to the pretty gold lamp. The gold of the frame didn’t quite match the lamp, but it was still beautiful to her. The ornate metal that decorated the frame was cold as she carefully rubbed the pads of her fingers over it. She stared at the photograph locked behind the glass, the speed of her heart beating increased only slightly.

The image was of her and her mother when she was around three years old. It was Halloween, she was dressed in a pink dress that was modeled after Princess Aurora, and her hair was curled and a little makeup playfully swept over her features. Her mother was dressed in a Cinderella themed costume, her matching golden blonde hair curled, too, and pinned up. It wasn’t the last holiday they spent together, but it was one of the only ones Ivy remembered. She doubted herself at times about the memory - she was only three and a half, did she actually remember it or was she imagining it? Despite always doubting herself, she knew too well that the memory was burned into her brain. She can remember the smell of the burning iron as her mom curled her hair. She remembers getting tickled by the fluffy makeup brush as a bit was applied to her face just to add to the illusion. She remembers the taste of the mini chocolate bar her mom unwrapped for her in the car in between neighborhoods - the night was full of trick or treating and giggles and squeals. She even remembered the way her mom’s hand carefully adjusted her curls when they got caught in the zip of Ivy’s costume. It was a memory she held dear to her heart, one she prayed she’d never lose. Ivy had always tried her hardest to find things to fill in the void of not having her mother around. But no matter how determined she was, nothing ever seemed to be enough. She found joy in little things, like collecting whatnots and trinkets that reminded her of the ones that littered her house when her mom was alive. She enjoyed searching for squirrels and birds in the park, collecting odd looking rocks during her walks, listening to her favorite songs on repeat, and a plethora of other things. But nothing could really fill the space in her heart.. It was quite a big space, after all.

That evening, after the sun nestled below the horizon and stars littered the dark winter sky, Emma invited Niall over for dinner. It was third day of actually staying here, since she opted to spend two weeks with Niall for Christmas between her parent’s place and his. Ivy was working on preparing the ingridents for the pasta when Niall knocked and was let in with a grinning Emma planting a kiss to his mouth. He laughed and brushed her off, not a big fan of showing affection in front of other people, even though he knew Ivy wasn’t watching.

“Hey, long time no see!” Niall said with a smile as he followed Emma into the kitchen.

Ivy’s eyes glanced over her shoulder. “Hi, Niall. It’s been a while, yeah?”

“I think you guys haven’t seen each other since the day we moved my crap in.” Emma said with a slight unsure tone.

“Your crap that still isn’t unpacked.” Niall sighed as he leaned against the counter, his arms crossing on his chest.

Ivy chuckled to herself as Emma began to give him excuses for why her things weren’t put away and in their new spots yet. The list included things like being busy with work, having errands to run, and of course ‘spending all my time with you’ that made Niall smack his lips and give her a sarcastic ‘okay, sure’.

They kept up their banter for a bit while (Y/n) rinsed her hands at the sink. She had finished everything she needed to do before actually cooking the food. When she turned towards them, Niall was peering his eyes into the pot of boiling water, frowning as he saw it was empty.

“She’s making the pasta you said you like.” Emma said as she grabbed his forearm to tug him away from the oven.

“Oh, really? That stuff was so good.” Niall’s eyes shot to Ivy’s. “I want a whole pot of it for my birthday, please and thanks.”

She shook her head in disbelief as a laugh rolled out of her mouth. “Isn’t your birthday in September?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, just don’t want ya to forget.”

“C’mon, let's start with the dresser, Niall. Let Ivy cook.” Emma said after checking the time on her phone. “We’ll clean up the kitchen after dinner, okay? Don’t worry about it!”

“Alright, that’s fine. I’ll let you know when it's done.”

And just like that, she was alone in the kitchen again. It didn’t bother her to be alone, she had been for most of her life, especially her late teenage and adult years. Finding something to occupy her bored mind was not a new task for her to learn. She opted for sitting at the small dining table after setting the timer on the oven in case she forgot to check the time.

Ivy pulled her phone from the pocket of her sweatpants and started to maneuver through the notifications that had come through since she last checked. One was a message from a random company that was offering a sale this coming weekend, there were two texts from Niall - the first asking if he needed to bring anything, the second saying Emma told him not to and to just ignore the text - the rest were random notifications from different apps.

Her attention went to her photo app as she scrolled to a few days ago, just a day or so after the New Year began. She went for a walk in the park close by one day during lunch when she had nothing else to do. She snapped a few photos of little random things, like a wild flower that had somehow managed to survive the low temperature, a bird that was perched on top of the black metal fence that lined the park, and a snapshot of the sky with the clouds parting in such a way that made it look like heaven. After having lost so much in life, she learned and forced herself to appreciate the little things that were around. Details of daily life, like the fall of a leaf to the ground or the chirp of a bird in a tree, were almost therapeutic for her.

Dinner didn’t take too long to cook, but the dresser was seeming to take much longer than Emma had expected it to. When Ivy knocked on the bedroom door and stuck her head in, she grinned as she saw Niall sitting on the floor with his head thrown back and Emma pacing the room with her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. Her once neatly fixed dark hair was messily tied in a bun on the back of her head. The instruction booklet for the dresser was laid out in between Niall’s legs, along with a torn bag of hardwear.

“Food’s ready.” She said with a singsong voice that made Niall pop his head up.

“Finally.” He quickly rose to his feet and grabbed Emma’s wrist, tugging her behind him as they followed Ivy down the hall and towards the kitchen.

“Eat as much as you want, I made plenty.” She said as she let them make a bowl first.

“Don’t have to tell him twice.” Emma’s mouth shaped to a smile as Niall practically pushed her aside to be first.

“Guests eat first, right?” He joked as he gave them both a quick glance, a smirk on his face as he grabbed the serving utensil.

Once the three of them had fixed what they wanted and claimed a spot at the table, Ivy offered to grab everyone something to drink. Emma and herself chose a glass of ice water while Niall requested a Coke. Emma had just brought home a box this morning after her quick run to the grocery store. The food appeared to be a big hit as Niall scarfed it down, spitting out compliments and satisfied hums that made the girls giggle and roll their eyes jokingly at him.

“Em told me the store is doing great.”

Niall nodded as he sipped his drink. “Yeah, it’s been good, actually. I’m glad.”

“I’m glad you do the lessons. I told her that people are coming in pretty much all day long.” Emma said.

“Yeah, if it’s not someone who’s into music already or just curiously out shopping.. The sign about the lessons really brings people in. And even if they don’t go through with it, they end up looking around and finding something.” Niall told them with a pleased smile, he was relieved his business was staying crowded and people actually enjoyed coming to the store.

“Did you end up finding someone to teach the guitar lessons? I know Emma said something about you were looking for someone else, since you got so busy with your bookings.”

“Yeah, my roommate actually. He’s decent at guitar and he’s just working with the beginners. I’m sticking to the people who sorta know how to play around that just wanna get better.”

Ivy nodded as she took another bite. “That’s good.”

The cooking had made the kitchen a bit warmer than it was before, so she pushed her sleeves up to her elbows. The exposure of the small tattoo on the inside of Ivy’s elbow caught Emma’s eye.

“Oh!” She chirped suddenly, making Niall flinch. “I forgot to tell you, Ivy, I’m getting a tattoo in a few weeks. Already got my appointment.”

“Oh, really? Where at this time?” Ivy asked with genuine curiosity.

“On my foot. Just a cute little flower. Niall says it's going to hurt.”

Ivy squinted her eyes and pursed her lips. “You don’t have any, do you?”

Niall chuckled. “No, but I’ve been told the foot is terrible.”

“I’m not a baby, Niall. It’s not my first one. Besides, Zayn said it would be fine since I’m used to the feeling.”

“Zayn is lying to you to spare your feelings and get your money. He is my friend, I think I'd know when he lies.” Niall was only teasing her, but it brought a flush to Emma’s cheeks.

“Shut up.” She mumbled through a pout.

Ivy was amused by their interaction, but she chose to move on with the conversation so Emma wouldn’t get too sensitive. She wasn’t over emotional or anything, but sometimes she would get embarrassed if Niall playfully taunted her in front of other people.

“Zayn.. is that the guy I met that time at the bar?” Ivy couldn’t remember the person’s name, but she was sort of sure that it was the same person they’re referring to.

Niall nodded to her. “Yeah. The one with all the tattoos.. I would say the one with the black hair but right now it’s platinum blonde.” The lift of Niall’s brows made her think that maybe he didn’t approve of the look, but he had no choice but to accept it.

“I thought that was the same guy. I’m pretty sure he told me he owned a shop.”

“He’s the best around.” Emma said with a laugh. “Plus.. he gives me a discount.”

“You’re welcome for that.” Niall puckered his lips and leaned her direction, demanding a kiss that he knew he wouldn’t get.

“Hush.” She pushed her fingers to his mouth and gently shoved his head back.

He laughed at her reaction. “Just saying, Em. He’s my friend.. like I said before.”

Emma ignored him and turned her eyes to Ivy. “Anyway, Niall can’t come with me.. so I was going to see if you wanted to go.”

“I can see if I can.. just let me know the date and time.”

“Alright. I will. Niall, don’t be a pig.” She groaned as she saw he had slipped from the table and was at the stove, piling his bowl full again.

“Let him eat it. That way we won’t have to worry about leftovers.”

Emma shook her head. “He’d eat the actual house if you’d let him.”

—•—

Ivy was puckering her lips in the mirror of the car visor as she applied her lip balm. It was chilly outside and the weather wasn’t being kind to her skin at all. She huffed as she saw the patch of dry skin right in the middle of her forehead. She had just applied her moisturizer before they loaded in the car to drive to the tattoo shop. Emma was driving, and every now and then she’d glance Ivy’s way and notice she was still staring in the mirror.

“What’s the matter?” She finally asked as Ivy slid the cover over the mirror and flipped the visor up, her back hitting the seat as she felt defeated.

“My skin is horrible right now.” She rolled her eyes to herself, upset that it was bothering her this much. It was just a bit of dry skin and chapped lips, she shouldn’t be so affected by it.. but she was. “Even my lips are dying.”

Emma smiled. “I’m sure lots of people are struggling right now. I’ve got a dry spot on my cheek. It’s been there for a few days. Just the weather.”

“But it's annoying. Y’know my hormones are whacky sometimes.. feel like as soon as I get it under control, I break out or have something like this happen.”

“When we get home, we can look up some different products. Maybe we can find something better for seasonal dryness. My cream isn’t working either.”

Ivy shrugged and took out her phone to mindlessly look through one of her social media apps. “Yeah, we can do that.”

Even though the shop wasn’t too far from where they lived, Emma didn’t want to walk in the cold and she didn’t want to have to cover the tattoo with thick, tight shoes afterwards. So, Ivy agreed to drive back after they left, and after they grabbed some food. The shop was right around the corner, and it caught Ivy’s attention as they turned onto the street. It was just off the main road of the downtown area. The street was lined with different restaurants, stores, thrifting spots, boutiques, and a few law firm offices and an emergency clinic that stayed open during the weekend. She was familiar with the area, and had actually looked towards the tattoo shop’s sign plenty of times. They pulled into a spot and Emma took in a deep breath before pulling the keys out.

“Are you nervous?” Ivy said with an amused grin plastered over her lips as she opened the car door.

“What if Niall’s right? What if it hurts real bad?”

“You’ll be fine. You got one on your ribs and your spine. You can take it.”

Emma was still nervous as she followed Ivy to the door. She grabbed the handle and pulled the door open, allowing Emma to slip into the building first. It was warm in the small lobby of the tattoo shop. She was unfamiliar with the specific shop, but not the reality of one. It looked like the others she had been to and the place she got her tattoos done at. The walls were dark grey and decorated with interesting pieces of artwork and posters. There were rock band posters, most of which she recognized, on the wall behind the dark wood desk that acted as a check in counter. Nobody was at the counter, though. There was a small sleek, black leather couch pressed against the side wall, above it hung a large canvas with what appeared to be an original artwork painted on to it. She saw the signature in the lower left corner and smiled as she read over the name she had heard Niall use a few weeks ago during dinner. So this Zayn character was more than just a tattoo artist? She was intrigued by the brush work on the canvas, the beauty of the image was breathtaking. The muted colors stood out oddly bold against the stark white and midnight black areas. It was nothing like she had ever seen before. Although she didn’t partake in any form of art herself, she was an admirer. She enjoyed frequenting art galleries and museums and contributing to artists as much as she could. She once got a commissioned painting of a bouquet of flowers from an older woman in the area who was a somewhat known artist. The piece lives on the wall near the hall closet.

“Zayn?” Emma called out suddenly as she grew impatient with standing in the middle of the lobby.

Ivy sighed to herself as Emma disappeared through a door. It lead to the main tattoo room, with three different stations placed in it. The back room was Zayn’s private room that his clients were able to be secluded in. Emma knocked on that closed door and waited patiently. A few moments later, Zayn opened the door with a smile, happy to see her.

“Hi, Em.” He said, his accent thick as it rang through the small building.

Ivy heard them chatting, so she decided to peek through the door, a nervous smile on her face. Zayn’s eyes caught hers as he towered over Emma. He offered a friendly wave and gestured for her to join them. She nervously stepped over the threshold and swallowed gently.

“Zayn, do you remember Ivy? You guys met a while back.” Emma said with a gesture of her hand as Ivy approached them.

Immediately, she recognized his features - from his dark eyes to his nearly fully inked arms. His tattooed sleeves wrapped over his shoulders, around his neck, crept over each wrist and wiggled around his fingers. He was covered, to say the least. She could only presume the rest of him looked like that. Colorful tattoos mixed with jet black ones littered his skin. And she noticed, of course, that his hair was blond now like Niall had mentioned.

“I think so, yeah. You’re the chick Niall said could outdrink me, right?” Zayn asked with a laugh.

“I don’t drink that much.. but yeah, that’s me.”

Emma gave her a nudge of her elbow. “She can out drink anyone when she actually lets loose.”

Her eyes rolled as a smile toyed on her lips, still slick from the lip balm. “Yeah yeah.”

“Let me get my chair cleaned off and you ladies can come back here.” Zayn said just as he grabbed the knob to his private room.

They heard something hit the floor and then a shuffle of shoes moving against the tile. Emma furrowed her brows and gave Zayn a curious look.

“Someone in there?”

“Yeah, I just finished a piece.”

He opened the door and went inside, shutting it behind him again. Ivy turned towards Emma and gave her a smile, unsure of what to do next. Emma grabbed her hand and nodded towards the open lobby door.

“We can wait in here.”

They returned to the lobby, where Ivy was easily distracted by the art on the walls again. There was a print of a skull near the door. It had flowers pouring over the crown of it, which then melted to puddles as they hit the imaginary ground. She thought it was interesting and quite cool. From what she could tell about Zayn’s vibe, it fit it well. The music playing from the speakers in the ceiling was loud enough to be heard but not too invasive. She could tell it was a curated playlist going, because the song that just begun seemed to be sung by the same person as the one before.

“Zayn just texted me.. he said we can come back.”

“I thought someone was-“ Ivy stopped speaking the second a body appeared in the doorway. “Oh.”

“Hey, Harry.” Emma said with a friendly tone as she stood up, motioning for Ivy to follow her.

“Hey, Emma.” The stranger replied with a quick lift of one corner of his mouth.

Ivy was slightly confused because it obviously appeared that the two knew each other. She had never heard Emma refer to anyone by the name of Harry, at least not that she could recall. She licked her lips and let her eyes fall down his tall, broad frame.

“What did you get?” Emma asked with her usual curious voice.

Ivy was listening, but she wasn’t paying that much attention. She couldn’t help but be taken aback by the appearance of the person in front of them. He was tall, much taller than Niall but probably close to Zayn’s height. He looked like a sky scraper standing in front of Emma and herself, both of which were shorter than average. His long, dark hair shaped into curls that were messily laying on his shoulders. He suddenly swept his hand through his roots the second she realized he had such long hair. The motion caused the lights above them to ricochet off the rings covering his fingers.

“This.” He said as he extended his right arm to them, well mainly to Emma.

There was a freshly inked snake curling around his forearm, each scale placed perfectly on his tanned skin. There were remenents of blood speckled across his skin, and a deep redness that hazed over the entire tattoo.

“Wow! That’s so good.” Emma beamed at the delicate work.

“Yeah, took two sessions. Zayn got a bit tired last time.” He smirked gently at the girl he knew, completely ignoring the one he didn’t.

“Well, it was cool seeing you! Are you headed home?”

He shook his head. “Gonna sit here for a while. I’ve got to be at the store in an hour to help Niall.”

She checked the time. “Yeah, he said he was the only one closing tonight.”

“Emma?” Zayn called from the back room, his head looking around the doorframe searching for her.

“Coming!” She hollered back, taking one last look at Harry’s freshly inked arm. “It was good seeing you. If you leave before I get out of here, I’ll see you later.”

Ivy didn’t even realize she was tracing her eyes over his body. His arms were like tree trunks, muscles taut under his skin and veins popping out, rolling around as he moved. His legs were tightly wrapped in a pair of dark jeans, she could tell through the fabric that they were toned as well. It wasn’t until he suddenly walked past her, not even sparing her a glance, that she realized she had been standing frozen.

Emma started towards the back room, Ivy in tow as she felt an embarrassed blush cover her cheeks. She didn’t know this Harry guy, but she hoped she wasn’t staring too hard at him. It definitely wasnt polite to just stare at a stranger, especially when she was blanking out. What if she was making a face at him? Something nasty, or something rude looking? She was unsure, but chose to ignore it. He didn’t seem bothered by anything as he took a spot on the couch.

Zayn’s office was just as she expected it to be. It was a deep shade of green, the walls coated in framed prints and a few smaller canvases of what she figured was his work. There was a small accent chair placed in the corner for guests. She sat down and started darting her eyes around the room. The type of work that Zayn had pinned to a board on the back wall caught her eye. He seemed to be good at everything, but most of it was bold color work or extremely detailed realism, sort of like the snake she saw on Harry’s arm moments ago. She wondered if Zayn had given himself any of his own tattoos or if he went to someone else. Surely, not every place on his body was accessible by his own hands, but maybe some of them were done by him. She felt like an amateur compared to him. She had a few tattoos placed on her body, but nothing quite as big or detailed as what she saw on the board or on Zayn’s skin.

“Ivy is your new house mate, right?” Zayn asked Emma as she got comfortable on the chair.

“Yeah. I moved in before Christmas.”

“But.. you’ve known each other for a while, right? I can’t exactly remember.”

Emma nodded. “Yeah, since we were in college together.”

“Zayn.. do you mind if I look through this?” Ivy asked politely as she picked up the small binder off the console table next to the chair. A few figurines of characters she recognized, an hour glass with black sand, and a plant lived on the table as well.

“Of course not, that’s why it’s there.” He gave her a chuckle, but kept his response nice.

She opened the book and started to slowly flick through the pages. She saw his signature on the bottom of the designs. They were all so perfect. Some were executed with such detail and precision that she could've sworn they were fake, others were more loose drawn in a free handed style or just more whimsical in nature. She saw a sketch of a few bees on one of the pages. They were in black and grey, mostly realistic with subtle, soft shading and delicate lines. The drawing was pretty and neat. She glanced to the corner, searching for his signature, but she didn’t find it. Instead, in the corner opposite of where Zayn favored to sign his name was a small H. She hummed to herself, curious to know why Zayn had someone else’s drawing in his book. She quickly shook the thought out and reminded herself that there three other stations in the front. They were not abandoned by any means, she could tell people worked at them based on the different things displayed and the personal trinkets and objects adnoring the areas. Maybe this was one of his college’s work or maybe it was random.

For the most part, the book was filled with things Zayn did. Some of them were his own creations while others were common tattoo designs just drawn by his own hand instead of being pulled from the internet. She liked the way he had a bunch of his own things offered in styles that were more popular. He appeared to be a well versed artist with the talent to create just about anything.

As Zayn prepped Emma’s skin for her tattoo, he was talking to her about Niall’s store. He asked how it was going and if she had heard any horror stories yet of Niall messing up payroll or forgetting to stock an item. She only laughed and said she was surprised he was staying so calm and organized. Everything about the store was going more than according to plan, as at least as much as Ivy could tell from what she’s heard. She was still so happy for Niall. His hobby had turned into a passion and a business and he was able to share it with others, it was like a dream come true she bet.

“Alright, are y’ready?” Zayn said with a deep breath of his own as Emma grew more and more nervous in the chair.

“I think so.”

“You’ll do fine, Em.” Ivy encouraged from the corner, her eyes now focused on her friend.

“Just take some deep breaths. Tell me if it’s too much.” Zayn told her as he pulled the stencil paper off her foot. The flower wasn’t that big, but there were lots of tiny details that Zayn knew would probably hurt her more than anything else she’s gotten. “Just a tattoo.”

“If I cry, you can’t tell Niall. I told him I could handle this.” Emma mumbled out with a frown as she stared at her foot.

Zayn smiled and leaned back, the gun still buzzing in his hand. “Before I start, is it in the spot you want?”

“What do you think? Is it good?” She asked him, twisting her foot to a different pose.

“It’s not my foot, love.”

She groaned and looked over towards Ivy. “Can you check?”

Ivy laughed a little but nodded as she stood up. Just as she was about to step towards them, Emma called for someone else to take a peek at the design.

“Harry? Are you still in there?” Her voice echoed through the room, she hoped that it spilled into the lobby so he could hear her. After a few seconds, she grunted and pulled her phone out to shoot him a text. “I’m so nervous.”

“It looks fine to me.. but it’s your decision.” Zayn told her with a gentle sigh.

Ivy looked down at the placement of the tattoo, her arms behind her back with her hands locked. “Yeah, it’s cute.”

She gave Emma a hopeful smile before turning around. The door opened just as she moved her body, the stranger that wasn’t a stranger to anyone but her, walked in the room, chuckling as he saw Emma fanning her face, the heat swelling her skin with sweat and her eyes with tears - she was nervous.

“You always do this.” Zayn couldn’t resist laughing as Harry walked to them.

Ivy was back in her seat now, her eyes fixed on her phone as she waited for Emma to decide her fate. She could hear snickers coming from Zayn and Harry as they talked about the tattoo and Emma’s apparent hesitation that always came out when she was in Zayn’s chair.

“It’s fine, Emma.” Harry said, giving her a smile before looking to Zayn. “Make sure it hurts.”

“Harry, shut up!” Emma groaned and tried to kick at him. He laughed and took a step back. “You guys are bullies.”

“You’ll be alright, Em. It’s not like it's your first.” Zayn reminded her.

She shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest. “Whatever. Go ahead, then. Thanks, Harry.”

“Welcome.” He said lightly before disappearing out of the door again.

Ivy wondered why he didn’t stay in the room with them. Was he not interesting in hearing the painful grunts Emma would sure be letting out soon or watching Zayn draw his design perfected for Emma into her skin? Maybe he was tired of being near the tattoo gun since he spent however long getting his own. She pushed the thought aside entirely the moment she heard Emma groan, curses falling form her lips but not directly towards anyone.

Zayn leaned over her foot, his fingers pulling her skin tight as he worked the needle into it. It didn’t look like it was much fun, and Ivy became grateful that she had no intention of ever inking anything onto her foot.

—•—

There was a freshness in the air as she looked around Niall’s music store. It smelt like freshly picked lemons, probably because he had just sprayed down the counter before she came in following behind Emma. Niall was in one of his usual band tees and a pair of jeans as he sat on a stool with a guitar resting on his thigh. He was talking with a customer, comparing the similarities of two different guitar brands. Emma found herself busy with the items on the checkout counter - dropping loose pens back into their cup and adjusting the pile of papers Niall had pushed to the side.

Ivy stayed curious as she looked around the store. It was very easy to get caught up in the different items, especially since she had little to no idea what some of the accessories were for. Niall provided more than just items for guitars. She didn’t try to decipher every thing on the shelves, just simply moved her eyes across the packages, curiosity settling in her instead of blurting out questions to Niall. The girls came by to bring him some lunch before they did some grocery shopping for the week. Niall was appreciative, but he was unable to entertainment right away.

Emma smiled as the customer approached the counter, the one Niall had been chatting with. She stepped aside and let Niall take over the register. He had another employee here, but he was in the back room looking for a specific thing they needed to restock on one of the shelves. Ivy waited near by as Niall scanned the guitar music book the customer wanted to get and told him that he’d see him when he returned for the guitar - the customer hadn’t made his decision just yet.

When it was just the three of them at the counter, a few customers were lingering around the store just browsing, Niall gave them both a warm smile before wrapping his arms around Emma for a quick hug.

“Thanks for lunch. I’ll eat it when Josh gets off his break.” He said with a sigh, folding his arms and leaning them on the counter.

“The store is so nice, Niall.” Ivy complimented as she glanced around.

“Thanks.”

Emma walked from behind the counter to where Ivy was standing. She was about to ask her something about their plans for the day when her eyes fell on the few pieces of paper taped to the front edge of the counter. One was the refund policy, one was about the instrument lessons, and the other was new since the last time she was here.

“Oh, a flyer? That’s unusual.” Emma suddenly said as she pressed her finger against the pink dyed paper. “For the show?”

“The show?’’ Ivy asked with a drop of her brows as she read over the words printed in bold black letters.

“Yeah, Niall’s band. They play at a bar across town every couple of weeks.” Emma told her.

Ivy remembered as soon as she heard it. Emma had told her before, long ago when she first started dating Niall, that he was in a cover band. It wasn’t anything serious, not trying to search for record deals or gain stardom, it was just him and his friends having a good time. They got decent money for it, including tips from audiences, and it allowed them to play the instruments each member enjoyed. She wasn’t sure who was in the band as Emma never got to that detail before.

“Oh, right.” She nodded as the memory returned to her brain. “That’s cool.”

“Can’t believe Emma’s never brought you to a show.” Niall said with a somewhat surprised expression.

“I invited her a few times but she’s usually busy with work stuff.” Emma defended herself, even though there was no issue with it.

Ivy smiled at her and shrugged. “I remember you asking a couple times.”

“Well, you’re more than welcome to attend if you’d like.” Niall offered as he pushed himself off the counter the moment the bell jingled above the entrance door.

He went to greet the customer, someone he actually was used to seeing come in the store, leaving the girls alone again.

“Yeah, it would be fun if you came! You could finally meet Alyssa. She’s usually just home with her and Zayn’s kid.. she doesn’t go out much anymore, but she loves the shows.” Emma exclaimed with a sparkle in her eye.

“I dunno.. when is it?” She asked, glancing at the flyer.

“Next Saturday night. It would be cool, Ivy! We haven’t went out since Halloween.”

The stress building up at work during the holidays definitely set her back from enjoying a lot of things, including several invitations from Emma to join her and Niall at a bar or go out for dinner with just the two of them. It truly felt like forever since she got to have fun with her friend. She thought about it for a moment, but only lifted her shoulder at the idea. The mention of meeting Zayn’s fiancé was intriguing since she had heard so much about her from Emma, but she doubted that would be enough to pull her out for the night.

“Maybe.. depends on how the week goes.”

Emma gave her a partial smile. “Okay. I really hope you can go with me.”

“Yeah, you should definitely come, Ivy.” Niall said as he appeared next to them, the customer gone to look for the item they asked him about.

Once again, she let out a small sigh and faked a smile for them. “I said I’ll see how the week goes, but no promises.”

He gave her a fake, dramatic frown. “C’mon! Live a little!”

“I live a lot.. at work.”

Emma grabbed her elbow and gave it a squeeze. “I’ll convince you before the week ends.”

“M’sure you will, Em.”

After spending a few more minutes talking to Niall, and then waiting in the car as he and Emma disappeared into his office to say a private goodbye, Ivy was ready to get the grocery shopping over with. The store they frequented was near by, so the drive was short and easy. It wasn’t close to their shared house, but the prices were better than anywhere else. Emma offered to take her car, so that left Ivy in the passenger seat with her eyes glued to whatever passed by the window.

“Are you okay, Ivy?” Emma asked as they strolled through the fruit section in search for the items on their list.

She gulped gently, distracting herself by collecting a few apples for the cart. “M’fine, just tired.”

Emma watched as she walked towards the basket of lemons and grabbed two, she’d need them for a receipe she was going to try later in the week. Ivy was normally not this quiet. She enjoyed the task of grabbing their groceries and checking things off their combined list while Emma pushed the cart and double checked everything. Something about doing such a mundane thing made her feel content and comfortable, even if they decided randomly to try a new store they’d never been in. But today was different, Emma was growing concerned with her unusually quiet friend.

“If you’re irritated with me and Niall pushing you about the show.. I’m sorry. You don’t have to go.” Emma said with a soft frown as Ivy returned to the cart with a handful of bananas.

She sat them down and lifted her hesitant gaze to meet her closest friend’s. “I’m fine, Emma. Just tired.”

She shook her head gently. “No, you’re too quiet. What’s wrong?”

“You and Niall didn’t bother me, I swear. The bar thing is.. whatever. I’ll think about it, I promise. It’s just.. one of those days.”

Emma wasn’t believing it all the way. Sure, maybe Ivy was being truthful about the role her and Niall played in her newfound mood, or didn’t play - but something else was up. She licked her lips and decided to stay quiet as Ivy busied herself with grabbing the rest of the fruits before moving onto the fresh vegetables.

Although she didn’t want to press it any further, Emma couldn’t stop thinking about what could’ve happened at the music shop or on the way to the grocery store. Her worry was growing quickly and it wasn’t very long before she was asking another question.

“Ivy, please tell me. Are you alright?”

She received a sigh as a response, a couple of tomatoes and a bag of baby carrots joined the cart. “Emma, please.. I’m fine.”

“Something is wrong with you. I don’t want to see you so down.”

Ivy walked towards the next section of the store, knowing that Emma would follow her with the cart no matter if they were talking or not. She held her breath as she thought about what was bothering her. She was too caught up with her racing mind to realize she was actually expressing her emotions on the outside. Emma noticed everything, so clearly she wasn't doing well at hiding it. There was no real issue, really, nothing that anyone caused by saying or doing anything. A lump slid down her throat, Emma was her friend - there was no need to keep anything from her.

Just as they turned down the aisle where the bread was, she stopped in her tracks and turned towards the cart, her hand reaching out to stop it. Emma froze, a lift of her brows offering confidence like a good friend should.

“The guy that walked through the door right before we left.. at Niall’s store..” She started with a strong voice, but it slowly faded to almost a whisper.

Emma nodded, encouraging her to continue. She looked down to the floor as the moment replayed in her memory. It wasn’t an unusual thing for her to experience, in fact it was more common than not. One little thing, one random glance from a passerby, one glimpse of someone with a similar shade of hair as her own, one note from a list of songs she knew were special..

“He reminded me of my brother. I.. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Her response made Emma’s stomach turn to knots. She knew that the conversation was over then, and there wasn’t anything else she could try that would break Ivy. The forbidden topic had been brought up, and quickly dropped back to the vault she kept it locked away in. Emma didn’t mention it again..

[a/n: this is a series! It’s a lot longer per part than my other stuff so I hope you enjoy! This is just the intro so it will be more interesting and exciting as it goes on! reblog, like, do all that lovely stuff!!] ** I did change this from y/n to an actual character but feel free to read her name as whatever you’d like

taglist: (notified for all // if you want to join a taglist for this series, lmk in a comment or message and I’ll start one)

@walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @victoriasigaard @ariiscringe @harlowsgirl @lomllover @haniaaa04 @sideboobrry11 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @fangirl509east @fruity-harry @sassamanda77 @lizsogolden

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