Enchantedinfinity - Baby Honey

i just finished narcos and have a javi obsession🫣

Somewhere to start - Chapter II: Lo estoy intentando

Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: A few little coincidences give you an opportunity to get to know Javi outside of work.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Warnings: Smut, flirting, fingering/mutual touching, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), protected PIV, smoking, forced proximity ish, Spanish translations at the end

Word count: 7k Rating: 18+ AO3

Javi was right. All you needed was, in fact, a refresher for Spanish. With his help, but mostly the textbook and dictionary you've spent your last three weeks worth of evenings with, your Spanish has gotten good enough to where you can read the majority of letters you receive with only a few breaks here and there to pull up the dictionary. 

You’re not telling Javi that, though, because the dumb little crush you have on him makes the words on the paper in front of you turn into an incoherent mess of letters when he’s in the room, and he always spots you looking at it like it’s your first day on the job, smirks a little, goes about his day, then pulls up his chair at five PM, ready to tutor. 

But to your dismay, you show up at work this morning to see Steve sitting in his chair again, back from Miami. Show’s over you think to yourself as you say hi to him and Javi, walking past them to find yourself a new desk in the corner of the room. You unpack your things and brainstorm, trying to think up another way to innocently flirt with Javi now that these Spanish lessons have nowhere to take place, not with the two agents working overtime most days, leaving Javi with no time for you and your stupid little problems. 

“Looks like we’ll have to move your tutoring session today,” you hear Javi say before pulling up next to you and leaning against your desk with his arms folded, subtly tilting his head towards Steve. It quickly dawns on you that he’s taking time out of his day for you, even now that he’s likely busy again, and it makes your heart race. “I’ll take my lunch break at noon, meet you here then?” he suggests, and you feel yourself perspire from his attention on you, dark brown eyes tracking your every move and looking straight into your eyes when you smile, shyly saying suena bien and try not to blush. 

-

“Nos ha llamado la atención” he says, tracing the words on the letter with his index finger, then looks up at you, “Dime lo que dije”. You look at him, blink a few times, look down at the letter again, narrow your eyes and try to gesture at your confusion. “Tell me what I said” he repeats, and you give him a sheepish smile, shrugging carefully. 

He tilts your chin up and whispers, “Gotta pay closer attention”, before his eyes flick down to your lips for just a split second, and back up. You can feel your face getting hot, hoping and praying you’re not visibly blushing as you look into his eyes. 

His hand is still under your chin, and he spreads his fingers to grasp your jaw and gently turn your face to the paper. “What does this sentence mean?” he asks again, and points to the top of the letter. “Th-.. Uhh” you stutter and look up at him again. 

He chuckles a little, looks up and down your face, and chews on the inside of his lip for a second before he gets up and takes a few steps over to a bookshelf, pulling out a dictionary and tossing it onto the table with a loud thud. “Look it up” he says and snaps his fingers before he sits back down, and you follow his orders, flipping through the pages and finding each word one by one, writing them all down in your notebook. 

“It’s been brought to our attention” you say slowly as you look at your notes, “Nos ha llamado la atención, nos ha llamado la atención”. You turn your head up and look at him, repeating the sentence, “Nos ha llamado la atención”. 

“Muy bien” he says with a smile, and watches you as you use the dictionary to translate the next sentence, picking up a few words you recognize from the previous lesson. 

-

You’re not entirely sure why Javi had to move your tutoring session, considering it’s five PM now and he’s still sitting at his desk, pouring over some documents, but you figure he has his reasons, not point in trying to prod. Everyone else has left and you're still there, all other offices are dark and empty, but you still have a stack of documents to go through before you can think about going home for the night, knowing more will pile up tomorrow. 

How is there so much paperwork? You can’t help but wonder if maybe you really are here just to file, if there truly are this many letters coming in that need to be read and sorted. It still doesn’t make a lot of sense no matter how you spin it. Why don't they have an intern? You look up when a thought strikes you - you probably didn't read the contract and now you’re actually a fucking intern and you just didn’t realize until now cause you spaced out so hard looking at that guy’s hairline. Shit.

“Come on, let’s go get something to eat” you hear Javi say, startling you a little and snapping you back from your thought spiral. He stands up and you stay seated, your head tilted up at him and your brows knitted in disbelief. “Now?” you ask, and point to the documents in front of you. “This is your work I'm doing, if you didn’t realize”. 

“Exactly” he says, pulling his blazer off the back of the chair before snatching the pen from your hand and tossing it onto the table, “It can wait”. You look at the letter in front of you, still not having much of a clue what it says, and slowly shake your head. 

“Javi..” you sigh. “I really need to get this done, it’ll just be another..”, you look at your watch and feel defeated already, “Hour, maybe?”. “You’re gonna stay here till almost six, unpaid?” he asks with narrowed eyes and a condescending smile. “I guess..” is all you have in response. 

“You don’t even know what that letter says”, he points to the document on the desk before folding his arms, his face full of amusement. “Yes, I do, Javi” you argue, knowing it’s a lie and that you’ve been staring at it for twenty minutes, a sudden influx of new words you couldn’t seem to familiarize yourself with flooding the page. “Tell me then” he says and raises an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side and waiting for you. 

You groan and squint at the paper, making out a few words but not nearly enough to figure out the sentence. “It’s something about a meeting, next week, with the ambassador” you say with your hands at your sides, shrugging a little. He cranes his neck for a second to look at the paper. “It’s about the embassy’s janitorial services” he says, dryly yet amused. 

You close your eyes and try to gather the will to argue, to translate, to work - to do anything, really. You glance around the room and, in the corner of your eye, you can see him put his hands flat on your desk next to you and lean over, hovering close to you. “Stop fighting me on this” he whispers, and you tilt your head up, catching his gaze.

You both stay like that for a few moments, half a smile tugging at the corner of his lip and you struggling to resist his coaxing. He glances down at your lips, then quickly looks back up, “Let me do something nice, you’ve done all this filing for me and I feel bad”

Then he tilts his head towards the door, stands up and straightens his jacket, and you scoot the chair back with a screeching sound before you rise, pushing off the armrests and looking at him unamused as you grab your bag and follow him out of the office. 

-

“What are you in the mood for?” he asks as you stand next to the cash register, looking at the menu and understanding all the words but getting so distracted by the scent of Javi’s cologne that you can’t think. “Surprise me” you say with a smile, what an amazing save, and he orders for you while you gaze at his side profile, lips parted and eyes wide. He looks so good in that collared, white t-shirt that it should be illegal. 

“So,” he says, interrupting himself to take a drag from his cigarette while he watches you take the last few bites of  your food, his already inhaled while you rambled about your life the past seven years and asked for advice on how to feel like less of an idiot at the embassy and in a new country. “What made you decide to work in.. Filing et cetera after all that time in school?” 

“I didn't decide” you say, covering your mouth and huffing a laugh with your mouth full, “I applied for a few jobs at the embassy, interviewed, they said I’d get one of three jobs”. You swallow and push your hair back over your shoulder, straightening a little in your chair. “And then, two weeks before I was moving, they told me I’d be doing admin work.. But I’d already made all the arrangements, you know? I gave up my apartment, took all these Spanish classes, bought plane tickets.. The embassy had already gotten an apartment for me. Figured it was better than staying in my hometown, even if I was just doing ‘filing etcetera’ as you so nicely put it”. 

He looks at you and nods as you talk, takes a drag and flicks off the ashes as he casts his gaze down for a second. “Angelina’s gonna get fired” he says, and looks off into the distance before his eyes flick back to yours. “The advisor?” you ask, vaguely remembering a woman in a pants suit you think might be her. 

“Mhm”, he takes one last drag and stumps the cigarette, “You're probably here to take over for her”. Your eyes shift a little side to side, and you can’t quite make sense of the very straightforward sentence he just uttered. “Why is she getting fired?” you ask, feeling like you shouldn’t even be privy to this information at all. 

He takes a breath and leans back, throwing his arm over the chair next to him, frowns and shrugs a little before he answers. “Doesn’t really give a shit about her job and it shows.. Nothing gets done in her department, always late, constant complaints lodged against her”. 

“Why me, though?” you question, genuinely baffled by his theory, “I’m just a lowly.. Office-admin-paper-person, I don’t know..”. He leans forward and over the table, scanning your face up and down, “Do you think they'd send some idiot down here and pay for their apartment, just so they can run around sorting letters for god knows how long, doing shit Murphy and I should be doing?”. He pauses for a second and tilts his head, “Come on”. 

There’s no fucking way, you think. Sure, you have the qualifications, you had an interview for an adjacent job that went well. Very well, actually, so well you were sure you’d gotten the job until the admin bomb was dropped on you and you assumed a better fit had suddenly swooped in and they changed their minds last minute. Why would they suddenly want you for this?

“How do you know? How-”, you shake your head a little and lean in, “Are you supposed to know that?”. “I can tell” he answers and clears his throat, “I sit in meetings with her and people from her department all the time. She’s had two strikes and they’re waiting for a third so she can get canned, simple as that”.  

Your eyes dart around the room a little, across the chairs and tables in the restaurant, the other customers, the trees outside blowing in the wind. Javi's eyes are on you the entire time, but he doesn’t say anything until your gaze travels back to him again. “Ambassador will want someone to take over immediately and”, he turns his hands a little, gesturing towards you, “There you are”. 

“Why me?” you ask with a grimace, waiting for a serious, legitimate reason you’d suddenly be getting this job, this much better job, more demanding and better paid, actually challenging, with real responsibilities. He chuckles a little and looks between your eyes, studies you a little. “You're capable, intelligent, organized” he says, “Good at talking to people, have your shit together.. Why not you?”

You don’t get the opportunity to answer before the waitress comes by and drops the check on the table. You reach over and grab it, earning you a dirty look from Javier. “You’re not paying” he says, almost condescendingly but with a hint of a laugh, and rips the check out of your hand. 

You roll your eyes, mutter thanks, Javi and lift your hand to your cheek, rest your elbow on the table and look out of the window, onto the street, while he pays for dinner. He drives you back to the embassy and you say goodnight, lingering for a little in front of the door to your car, him standing close to you, until someone drives into the empty parking lot and he takes a step back. You smile and get in, about to put your key in the ignition when it suddenly hits you that there’s a planned power outage in your building this week. 

Not this week, today. 

It also hits you that you got a notice regarding the outage under your door last week and had spent the evening translating it. You lean your forehead into the steering wheel and sit there for a few seconds, trying to figure out whether you should get a hotel somewhere for the night, when you’re startled by a tapping on the window, and you turn to see Javi standing outside. 

You roll your window down and he leans into the door, bending over until he’s nearly eye level with you as you shake your head and tell him about the outage. “Stay at my place tonight,” he says and taps the door, “We’ll go to yours and get your stuff, then I’ll drive you to and from work tomorrow”. You lean into the steering wheel again, weighing your options, but realize this is probably the safest, regardless of how inappropriate it might be. 

Javi unlocks the door to his apartment and nods for you to walk in first, and your eye is immediately caught by the large windows in his living room as well as the sizable balcony stretching from one corner to the other. “You have a balcony!” you exclaim, realizing you sound way too excited, and even though it’s dark out, you pad over to the glass and peer through it, looking at the city lights. 

“Yup” you hear him say, equal parts amused and confused. “Man,” you say as you keep staring out, “All I see from my place is trees, tops of buildings and flashing lights from restaurants on the street, not all this”. Javi gets on the couch and flips the TV on, clicking through the channels and landing on some sort of show while you look out of the window for another minute, then coming over to him and sitting down. 

“Free Spanish lesson” he says and glances at you, and you roll your eyes before turning to the screen and trying to understand what’s going on. You get comfortable after a while and find yourself understanding more and more, only catching Javi occasionally looking at you from a few feet away, out of the corner of your eye. An hour or so goes by before you start to yawn and look at the time, and Javi is quick to say that you can have his bed and he’ll sleep on the couch. 

“No, no” you say, waving your hand, “Don’t make me feel like a burden, Javi, I’m totally comfortable sharing your bed if you don’t mind it”. He tilts his head a little side to side, trying to look like he’s mulling it over. “If you insist” he says and flips the TV off, then helping you up and showing you where the bathroom is. You grab your toiletries and a t-shirt from your bag and head in to get ready for bed, listening to Javi brush his teeth in the kitchen sink while you quietly peek around in his cabinets a little, just to see if there’s anything interesting to find - which there unfortunately isn’t. 

Javi is already in bed, bare chested and stretching his arms when you come out of the bathroom. You smile shyly, walking around to the other side, unable to ignore his eyes following you as you slip into the sheets a respectful distance away from him. Two feet, maybe, it’s a pretty big bed after all, much too big for just one person. 

“Thanks for letting me stay over” you say, pulling up the blanket and sweeping your hair up over the pillow, trying not to look at him, knowing that the awareness of him laying next to you, both of you half naked, will keep you up for hours if you think about it too hard. 

If you think just a little too much about what he might be like in bed. How we might use his hands and lips and tongue on you, how he might feel inside you. You try to quiet your thoughts, try to breathe through your mouth so you don't feel yourself getting wet from his proximity. “Anytime” he groans and reaches over to turn the lamp on the nightstand off, “Sweet dreams”. 

You squeeze your eyes shut and lay completely still in the quiet, dark bedroom, trying to ignore the ache between your legs that rises every time you inhale and smell his cologne on the blanket right below your nose. You push it down a little, wrap it tightly around your chest, and you cool off for a second before you feel him shifting next to you and he throws his arm over his head. 

A whiff hits you as he groans quietly and settles - an unmistakable, masculine, musky whiff coming from under his arm, the inevitable sweat from merely existing in Bogotá combined with the cologne that’s been developing on his skin under the suit, which is already intoxicating enough without the added pheromones, making your core tighten at the scent.  

“I haven’t had sex in ten months” you suddenly whisper, and you wince as the words leave your mouth. How the fuck did that make it past the filter? A silence follows, and you’re not quite sure whether you prefer for him to have heard you or not. 

“Wha-, sorry, did you say something?” he murmurs. “I said I haven't had sex in ten months” you repeat, admitting defeat and feeling your heart thumping. “Is this-”, you can hear him shifting towards you but you look at the ceiling, unwilling to make eye contact. “Are you.. trying.. to seduce me?” he asks, sounding amused. 

“Javi..” you mutter, and he can probably sense how hard you’re rolling your eyes at him. “Worth a shot” he says, and you can tell he’s moments away from laughing. “I’m just telling you in case I crawl on you in my sleep or something”, you say, surrendering your hands with your eyes still closed, “Don't- don’t take it personally”. There’s another bout of silence, and you can feel your heartbeat all the way down in your stomach.

“Why don't you just.. Crawl on me now then,” he suggests softly, “Won’t matter if you do it in your sleep if you’re already here”. You don’t answer his question out loud, but you scoot over to him and lay your head on his chest, taking a deep breath and getting overwhelmed by the scent of him, making you jerk your hips a little and throw your leg over his to hide your reaction.

“Don’t take this personally” he mocks, and reaches around to lay his hand on your back, starting to stroke the skin that's been exposed from your t-shirt riding up as you shifted around. You lay still for a while, or what seems like a while, feeling his warm palm stroking you soothingly and molding to the curves of your back as you relax into his chest, inching your pelvis a little closer to him, noticing your panties make contact with his boxers, and trying to brush it off as just shifting around. 

His hand lowers a little, sweeps down to your lower back and keeps gently rubbing. You whimper a little at the touch and hope he didn’t hear it, but his hand stills at the noise, right above the waistband of your panties. You close your eyes again and try to somehow reel in your aching for more, take back the wetness that already soaked your panties and at this point is most likely dampening the fabric of his boxers. Hopefully he can’t feel it. 

He squeezes a little and your hips roll in response, your breath hitches, and you ask yourself where your self control went when you suddenly feel his hand wrap around your jaw before your head is tilted up, his lips meet yours, and he’s kissing you, parting your lips and licking into your mouth. Fuck, he's a good kisser.

Your hand quickly leaves his chest and your fingers find his curls, tugging at them and hearing him groan. His hand slips down, your thong getting caught between his fingers, and he pulls the lace covered string down until he reaches the swell of your ass. He covers as much of it as he can with his large hand, uses his grip on your flesh to move you subtly, pulling you up and pushing you back down so your clit drags against the wet fabric of your panties that have absolutely leaked onto his boxers by now.

Another whimper escapes, this one long and drawn out, into his mouth. “Let's take these off” he whispers, and you nod in response while he traces the top of your panties, making you shiver when his fingers pass below your belly button. He hooks two fingers into the strap and moves his hand a little back and forth again, brushing the back of his fingers along your hip. 

Your eyes have gotten used to the dark now, and the light coming in through those pesky venetian blinds illuminate him just enough to where you can watch him as he slides your panties down your legs, tosses them off the side of the bed, and comes back with a hand going up your shirt as he leans down to kiss you again. 

His palm brushes up against your firm nipple and he hums in acknowledgement, retracting his hand to bunch up your shirt and pull it over your head. “I gotta see this” he mutters and turns on the lamp on his bedside table, casting a warm light all over the bed, allowing you to see how intensely he’s looking at you. You could never get tired of those eyes on you. 

He lets his hand drag down your side as he licks and kisses along the side of your neck, takes in your curves, travels all the way down, as far as he can reach, and squeezes your flesh. He watches your eyes as he traces up your inner thigh, stops right at the apex, and ghosts his fingertips along your slit, seeing how your lips part and your eyes widen. 

“Ten months, huh?”, his voice is so raspy, so deep and dark, and it reverberates through your entire body when he speaks, “That’s a long time”. “Yeah” you whisper with a hint of a laugh. “You wanna keep that streak going or?” he asks smugly with his eyes trained on your lips. “Does it seem like I do?” you respond breathlessly, still half smiling. 

“Not really” he says, and plunges one finger deep into you. The moan you let you is embarrassingly loud and desperate, and he chuckles in response. “Fucking tight, though, huh?” he mutters while working in another finger. He slides them in and out, pausing deep inside you to curl them at the spot where you want him the most, your slick running down along his fingers and into his palm, and he kisses and bites your lower lip as you moan into him, unable to close your mouth. 

The sensation of his thick fingers is overwhelming after nearly a year of trying and failing to reach the crevice he’s so effortlessly rubbing now. “So good, Javi, so good” you whimper into his mouth, nipples hardening and pussy throbbing, desperately needing release. Then he kisses along your jaw and down your neck while he listens to your little noises, pushing his clothed erection into the side of your thigh. 

You pull at his waistband and he moves to retract his fingers, soaked and dripping, pulling his soft pajama pants off with one hand. You glance over as he leans down again and returns his fingers to your opening, slipping inside and curling. The blanket has slid off, down to the mattress, and he’s laying completely bare while his cock lightly bobs from how hard he is. 

He lets you take him in, pressing a kiss to your forehead while you stare at him, at the wet head, precome leaking from the slit and threatening to drip down, a few thick veins running from the tip, down his overwhelming length, reaching the thick base, covered by soft, brown hair. “Like what you see?” you hear him murmur against your hairline, and he chuckles a little when you nod. “Yeah” you say softly, and he hums a little before tilting your head back and continuing to place kisses along your neck. 

You reach your hand towards him as he keeps pumping his fingers in and out, landing on his stomach and sliding further and further down till your fingers comb through the patch of hair above his shaft and finally circle around him. You can’t even reach all the way around, and you gasp at the realization, dragging your fingers up to catch his precome, slick your hand and start stroking. 

The stifled moan he lets out as he licks the underside of your jaw sends shivers through you, and you can feel your clit swelling, so achy and sensitive. Your hand is getting slicker as more precome keeps dribbling out of him, turning you on even more and making you louder until he shushes you with a kiss, his tongue reaching deep into your mouth and your shared spit smearing across your lips. He retracts his fingers and licks off your juices as he looks at you, not letting you glance away. 

“Quiero comerte” he mutters to himself, “Taste so fucking good”. He shifts around so he's on his stomach between your thighs, and you notice a worry creeping up when you realize what he’s about to give you. “Should I maybe shower first?” you ask with concern, leaning back on your elbows and trying to close your legs, pushing against his hands holding you open “Sorry I’m so sweaty, I didn’t-”.

“Nah, baby, nothing to apologize for” he says with a calm smile, his eyes burning with desire, “Want you just like this”. And with that, he grabs your hips, pulls you closer to him and hooks his fingers over your thighs to spread you apart. You squeeze your eyes shut and dread his reaction to your scent and taste, your pussy having marinated in sweat all day under the soft fabric of your panties, the heat outside making it impossible not to come home with your inner layer of clothing soaked. 

He runs his hand up your inner thigh and pauses, uses his thumb to carefully pull your soft pussy lip to the side, and you tense with self consciousness as he gently opens you for him and runs his tongue up along one side, licking up all your accumulated sweat and gently brushing your clit when he reaches the top. He gives it a slow lick, almost like a wet kiss, and you moan softly, holding your breath.

You feel the vibrations of him groaning against your skin as he shifts to the other side, splays his hand across your inner thigh and pushes his tongue under your outer lip, dragging all the way from your opening and to your clit again, licking up a combination of sweat from the day and slick from him fingering you. 

He looks up across your body and waits for you to open your eyes, and you meet his gaze right as he covers your slit with his tongue and drags it up, kisses your clit softly, nips at your folds, then licks the crevice between your mound and inner thigh. Your breathing is shallow and your head is empty, all your attention occupied by the throbbing sensation deep within you, and your clit aching to be rubbed and licked until you come. 

He makes his way back, swirls his tongue around the sensitive bud and gives it a suckle, then dives down to push his tongue into your opening so far his nose is touching your clit, a soft whimper escaping you and your chest lifting, rewarded by his dark eyes tracking yours when he comes back up and sucks your clit up into his mouth, flicks at it, increasing the pressure as he squeezes your thighs and you fist the sheets on either side of your head.

“J-Javi, I’m gonna- ” you moan, breathlessly and soft, and he raises an eyebrow, maintaining his pace, covering your clit with his saliva, rolling his tongue and suckling while your own arousal leaks out of you. “I'm gonna come, I-ah” your sentence trails off as you come apart under him, walls pulsing and clenching, back arching off the mattress and your eyes rolling back as your mouth hangs open, gasping for air. 

He gently licks until your back hits the mattress, then kisses along your inner thigh and comes up to cradle your jaw in his hand and kiss your neck. “Get on top of me, baby” he whispers, his breath hot over your skin, giving you goosebumps. He sits up and shifts back, leaning against the headboard and watching you pull off your t-shirt as he reaches into his nightstand and grabs a condom, looking at you as he rips it with his teeth. You stare down at his cock, mouth half open and borderline watering as he rolls the latex down and and gestures for you to come to him. 

You shuffle over on your knees and he holds his cock up for you to sit on it, reaches out his other hand to wrap around your waist and pulls you closer. He tilts his head up and gazes at your lips, and you kiss him while you lower onto his length, whimpering against his mouth as he fills you. “La tienes tan dura” he mutters to himself, under his breath, and you gasp a little. “Javi” you scold and smack his chest with the back of your hand, interrupted by your breath hitching again at the sensation of his tip reaching the very end of you. “So you understand that but not what's relevant to your job, hm?”, he shakes his head in disapproval, “Dirty girl”. 

You roll your eyes a little, starting to wind your hips up and down, feel his hands running up and down your back and over your ass, while his cock fills you and rubs the sensitive little spot deep inside you. “You look so pretty all stretched out, mi amor” he says, grasping your jaw and neck with one hand and bringing your face close to his so he can lick inside your mouth and nibble at your bottom lip while he grunts and thrusts up into you, reaching the very end of your pussy. 

He keeps kissing the corner of your mouth, the underside of your jaw, your neck and your chest as you moan incoherently, tighten your core and roll your hips, feeling your clit rubbing against him and your eyes rolling back. His hips move with yours, pushing his length all the way into you, massaging your walls just right. You look down at him and he angles your head down so that your faces are almost touching. You pant into each other’s mouths and he starts smiling, picking up his pace just a little, holding your jaw and forcing you to look him in the eyes while you moan and squirm, your head cleared of all thoughts, your sole focus on how good he feels inside you. 

He leans over and grabs the pack of smokes on his nightstand, effortlessly slipping out a cigarette with one hand, sticking it between his lips and picking up the lighter, all while keeping one eye on you, as you lean back with your hands on his knees and move your hips. "You're enjoying yourself too much, cariño" he says, slightly muffled, and lights up while clicking his tongue, "Should’ve known you'd take advantage of my kindness". He groans as he throws the lighter back onto the nightstand and takes a drag, exhaling up and to the right while he gazes at you. 

You huff a laugh as you watch him through half closed lids, distracted by how he’s filling you to the brim, how his free hand squeezes the flesh of your ass so firmly it almost hurts a little, and his eyes follow your hips as they lift up, high enough for him to see part of his length slide out before it disappears into you again. 

“Fuck yourself on it” he says and takes another drag, “I have to take a timeout, you look way too good on my dick”. He exhales, and leaves the cig in his mouth so he has both hands free, running them down your thighs before throwing one arm over the headrest and leaning over towards the opposite side to flick the ash off into the small ceramic tray. You can barely hear what he’s saying, too overwhelmed by his size still stretching out your hole and putting pressure on your cervix, the movement of his hips burying him so deeply in your cunt you're unable to think straight. 

“Can tell you're close, angel” he coos, his voice sounding buttery smooth as he grabs your hand and brings it to your core, “Can you come for me?”. He returns his hand to your hip, and you follow his lead, licking the pads of your index and ring fingers then bringing them down to start circling your clit, feeling your stomach tightening and his tip nudging your most sensitive spot when he pulls you further down into his lap. 

He brings his hand up to carefully grasp your breast, smoothing his thumb over your sensitive nipple in circular motions, pushing you closer to your release as you look up at the ceiling and feel it starting to take over your lower half. You hear him grunting, breathing heavily, and feel his tongue on your nipple, licking and sucking it while you ride him.

It feels like he’s prodding at every nerve in your body as his hand on your back holds you close to him and your most sensitive areas are being stimulated, and you need to come so bad you could cry. “Javi, fuck” you moan in an uncharacteristically high pitch, your voice straining to get a single word out as you tumble over the edge, clenching down on him and digging your hips as far into him as possible. He pulls back, raises an eyebrow and smirks, calmly observing as you arch your back while you ride the waves of your orgasm. 

“So beautiful” he says and puts out the cigarette, kissing between your breasts while you come down. He places one hand on your back and lifts your thigh with the other, crossing his legs under you so he can lift up to his knees and lay you down on the mattress, his cock still fully sheathed inside you as he settles between your legs. “How do you feel?” he murmurs and noses your neck. “So good” you whisper while you push your heel into his spine, and he slips both arms under your knees, lifting your ass up into the air. 

He fucks you so deeply your hands shoot out to grab the front of his knees, preventing him from pushing in any further. Your back arches when you hear him moan, opening your eyes to see his face scrunched and his mouth half open, his gaze roving over your body as he grabs your thighs and pulls you back, letting your ankles rest on his shoulders. He pounds into you, hitting your g-spot with overwhelming speed, your moans getting more and more desperate until his thrusts slow and he growls with each one, burying himself in you for one final push, holding your hips and looking at you while he comes with a rough moan.  

He leans over you, lowering down onto his elbows to kiss your lips, then your jaw, then your neck, and eventually your chest, before he pulls out with a groan and discards the condom, pulling you up and onto him as he settles back against the headboard. 

-

“Let’s air the room out a little” he says with a laugh as he puts on his boxers, then picks up a cigarette, nodding towards the door. He waits for you to put on your shirt and panties, takes your hand and guides you out of his bedroom through the kitchen and out onto the balcony you were looking at earlier. 

He lights up as you lean over the railing and look down onto the street, comparing the view from his apartment to the view from yours. “Tutoring on Thursday?” you ask as you stand back up. “You only want me for sex” Javi says and rolls his eyes, “This is all just a ruse, baby”. 

“Javi…” you murmur softly. “Don't patronize me” he says, making you giggle. Nodding at the cigarette in his hand, you look up at him with a raised brow, “You mind?”. He gives it to you and you take a drag, exhaling slowly as you look out onto the city and feel his eyes on you. “I've learned a lot” you say, still looking out. 

“Yeah?” he asks and snakes his hand around your waist. “Mhm.. It's fun”, you look at him, not quite smiling but at the very least looking amused. “That’s good” he says, and pushes his hand into your back so you stumble into him and he kisses you, slowly and tenderly, taking back the cigarette and flicking the ash off. “You're a good teacher” you purr while watching him take a puff. “Lo estoy intentando, hm?”, he exhales. 

You look at him and blink a few times, feeling dumb. “I’m trying” he whispers with narrowed eyes and pushes your hair back over your shoulder, tilting his head a little. You roll your eyes at yourself, “People really lodge formal complaints about Angelina?”. He looks down at your chest for a moment while his hand slips down to squeeze your cheek, before he keeps talking. “You translated one, so..” he says and shrugs, “You tell me”. 

“I did?”, you grimace and try to remember what little you gathered during that lesson, too damn distracted to even read English. “Yeah, first lesson” he says, and watches you with amusement, “Or were you not paying attention?”. You giggle and tilt your head, biting your tongue between your front teeth, “Might’ve been a bit distracted”. 

“Fair enough” he concedes, then takes a drag, “I’m looking forward to her being out, hate to say it”. He exhales out into the air and you admire his side profile, watching as his eyes narrow and his gaze follows the lights from an airplane in the distance. “Is she that bad?” you finally ask.

“Nightmare.. You prepared for the amount of Spanish you'll have to know to take over?”, he looks back at you, and moves his hand back up to the small of your back, spreading out his fingers to hold you steady while he pulls you a little closer. “What” you say, not even as a question. 

“There's gonna be a decent amount”, he smirks while taking another drag. You look unamused as you snatch the cigarette back, leaning back into his hand. “Are you trying to tell me you’ve just been tutoring me so I can take over for her sooner and you don't have to deal with her shit?”. Javi tilts his head and looks at you, leaning in for a kiss you dodge, and he laughs at your disapproval. 

“Positive side effect, you could say..”, his gaze holds you hostage as you try to look annoyed, “But mostly I don't mind helping a damsel in distress such as yourself”. “Damsel in distress” you mutter, rolling your eyes and slapping his arm. “Nah,” he chuckles, “I like you, why wouldn't I wanna help?”. He looks at your lips, then your eyes, brushing his thumb along your skin. “I like you too” you say, biting back a smile. You gaze at each other for a moment, before you get shy and peek over the railing while he runs his hand up and down your back. “Seeing anything interesting?” he asks. “Eh,” you shrug, “Not really.”

-

Nos ha llamado la atención = It has caught our attention

Dime lo que dije = Tell me what I said 

Quiero comerte =  Want to eat you

La tienes tan dura = You get me so hard 

Lo estoy intentando = I try

love frat rafe

thought i wouldn’t find out?

pairing. frat¡rafe && reader

content. fluff. suggestive content/thoughts. language. blood. violence(?)

summary. you’re the designated ‘frat girl’, but when rafe’s ‘brothers’ start getting too close, he’s gotta remind them who you belong to psa i have nooo clue about frats so i just used names i found on the internet (yes, i’m in college and still have no idea about them)

“so i told the idiots at kappa sigma that they can suck my dick! i’m not working with them for the annual formal, and if they wanna run their mouths to whoever the fuck’s in charge– i really don’t give a damn,” was the first thing you heard as you walked through the door of rafe’s frat house, pi kappa phi. him and some other ‘brothers’ were scattered about in their messy living room. it was friday afternoon, so they were all just hanging out before frats opened at 11pm. almost all of them had a beer in their hand, including rafe.

he turned once he heard the sound of the door, a smile subconsciously forming on his face.

“there’s my girl,” he said, moving his arm up, waiting for you to take your place next to him. his eyes panned over your body– cropped white t-shirt with a jean skirt, and some country looking belt that hung off you, proving it was just for looks– his eyes landed on the pack of beer in your hand. it was pretty customary for you to bring drinks for the weekends– not for the parties– just for him, and the other guys.

he rested his arm on the back of the couch, telling you to put it in the refrigerator– as if this wasn’t routine.

once you returned from the kitchen, you took your spot in his arm. he craned his head to give you a quick kiss on your cheek, moving his mouth to ghost over your ear.

“how you doin’ baby?,” his voice was low, almost slurring as if he was a bit tipsy– he wasn’t, you knew that he was just getting started.

“‘m good,” you nuzzled into his touch. after a long day of classes, rafe’s presence was calming. it grounded you in a way you craved throughout the stress of your day.

he continued to talk to the guys in the room, his fingers rubbing little circles into your soft shoulder with the hand that was slung around you. your head rested between his chest and the under part of his arm.

“be right back,” he said to the other guys, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek before wandering somewhere in the house.

you suddenly felt a lot of eyes on you. you were used to these guys, but something about this exact moment felt… uneasy. you didn’t make it known that you were slightly uncomfortable though. you knew who you were– you knew how crazy your boyfriend was. they wouldn’t try anything if they knew what was good for them.

“so, y/n… long day?,” jake asked with a smirk before taking a swig of his beer. you knew all of them– unfortunately– it’s not like they were all bad, just a majority. jake included. you tried to hide the discomfort in your face. you thought you were doing a good job…

“dude. what’re you doin’?,” cam butted in before you could answer– apparently your discomfort wasn’t that hidden. he was one of the only ones without a beer in his hand, and he was probably your favorite of the guys– besides rafe, of course. he was the nicest, and he never really made you feel out of place, or uncomfortable. he kept all the other guys in check when rafe was gone– mainly because he was rafe’s right hand man, and his best friend.

“jus’ askin’ pretty girl how her day was,” his smirk still glued to his face, turning from cam back to you, still awaiting your answer.

“cut it out jake,” his tone was serious. you just sat there awkwardly, but you wanted jake to know he didn’t bother you– even if he did.

“no, no cam… it’s fine,” you began, a fake smile on your face, “my day was long. jus’ happy to come home to rafe, y’know?”

jake was clearly tipsy, maybe even already drunk. that’s the only thing that would explain the next words that came out of his mouth.

“rafe… rafe is a little bitch. wouldn’t know a pretty girl like you if it hit him,” cam gave you a look– should i jump in?– you shook your head gently, intrigue plastered over your face. you wanted to see how far jake would go. the other guys surrounding him watched him with bated breath as if he was actually making a valid point. it almost made you laugh.

“bet he can’t even make ya cum… ya ever need a real man you come to me sweetheart,” the words made you cringe. did he really think shit like that would make you… what? swoon? cam’s jaw was slacked, in utter disbelief of what just came out of his ‘brother’s mouth. you went with it– kind of.

“well, jake that is a very kind offer, but i gotta tell ya…,” you stood up from the couch, moving toward the chair he was sat on. you leaned down, right in his face– close enough for him to not just hear the words you were about to say, but feel them too.

“you shouldn’t be concerned about me getting off. rafe’s got plenty of photo proof of that,” your smile was evil, challenging. just as you moved away from jake’s face, walking back to your spot on the couch, rafe reentered the room.

“what’d i miss?,” he was clueless, you knew cam would try and tell rafe, but you didn’t want to cause even more of a scene. you weren’t jake’s biggest fan, but the things rafe would to do him if he found out were… probably illegal. and it’s hard to run a frat from jail.

“not much,” you shrugged, plopping yourself back on the couch. the look on cam’s face was just pure confusion and shock. jake’s on the other hand… well, his was just shock. you smiled to yourself while rafe made his way to sit next to you.

—

the house had so many bodies, loud music, flashing lights that would make anyone’s head spin. you were currently fighting your way through the crowd of people to get to the bathroom. once you closed the door behind you the music was a little more muted, giving you some peace. not for long.

“so i told her– if she wants a real man she can come to me. probably come for me, too,” jake’s agitating laugh could be heard from the other side of the door.

“so she got all up in my face– hot as fuck– told me not to tell rafe. that i’d be hearing from her real soon,” whatever group of people he was talking to began ‘ooo’-ing and laughing. little did you know, cam was in that group– observing. you stayed in the bathroom until their voices faded away, giving you a clear to exit.

you needed to find rafe.

luckily, he hadn’t really moved from the spot you left him in, but once you saw rafe, cam came into view too.

cam was turned away from you. you could see rafe’s face, and he was furious. his face was basically turning red, jaw locked, eyes wide and narrowed at the same time. you watched his hold on his beer bottle tighten, knuckles turning white.

even over the noise in the house, you could hear the sound of rafe’s bottle thud against the counter, followed by a “fuck no. oh, he’s fucking dead. they’re all dead.” he was about to walk away, leaving cam to himself, before his eyes caught yours. suddenly, rafe was right in front of you– towering over you.

“we gotta talk,” was all that he said before grabbing your hand, and dragging you upstairs into his room. he closed the door behind him. most of the noise was muted now, giving you a chance to talk privately.

“what did cam tell you?,” you weren’t scared of rafe when he was like this, but you were still a little concerned. he looked like he could break just about any and every thing in his room right now.

usually rafe would play mind games– ask you what you thought cam told him– but he was in no mood right now.

"told me what that jackass jake said. ‘bout how i couldn’t make you cum?,” breathless laughs were breaking up his sentence, like he couldn’t believe what he had to repeat right now.

“told me what you said…,” he leaned toward you. you swallowed hard, big eyes looking up at him. you weren’t sure how he was going to take you basically telling jake that he had explicit photos of you on his phone.

“‘nd as hot as that was…,” he began, smirking spreading across his lips, “i gotta ask– why didn’t you tell me, babe?”

“‘s not a big deal, rafe. y’know how jake is…,” you started before he cut you off. backing away from you as if he was astonished by your answer.

“yeah. i do. that’s no excuse f’r him to say the shit he did, and then go around tellin’ people you’d actually leave me for him. actin’ like you’re gonna hook up with him behind my back,” how the fuck did he know about that?

“tryna tell people my girl would go anywhere near his tiny dick. it’s laughable,” he ran his palm over his mouth like he genuinely couldn’t stifle his laugh.

“rafe…”

“no, no. he wants to play that game? we can play that game,” suddenly he grabs your wrist again, dragging you downstairs. you didn’t know what he was doing, but before you could process anything he cut the music off. everyone in the house either complaining, or looking around confused. rafe’s loud voice was the next thing to reverberate through the house.

“HEY! LISTEN UP, ANYONE WHO DOESN’T LIVE HERE– TIME TO GET THE FUCK OUT! PARTY’S OVER, ALRIGHT?,” his voice boomed in your ear, making you flinch at first. after some frustrated groans, and some ‘what the fuck’s, people began to flood out of the house.

your confusion was evident, staring up at rafe– his hold on your wrist still there, but looser now.

“what’re you doing?,” you whispered to him, his eyes not moving from the crowd leaving the house.

“don’t worry ‘bout it, baby,” he mumbled back to you before walking away from you to close the door as the last few people trickled out.

“rafe, man– what the fuck?!,” jake was walking up to rafe like he was trying to intimidate him– obviously he wasn’t. the look on rafe’s face was lethal. all rafe’s ‘brothers’ gathered around him, everyone confused except cam. not that he knew what was going on, but he did know rafe, and whatever was going on wasn’t going to be pretty.

you were still stood where rafe left you– just a few steps behind him.

“my bad bro… jus’ got some things i wanna address,” rafe’s tone was dripping with sarcasm, and a sense of humor. jake tried not to seem worried, tried to have a poker face, but you could tell he was sweating under that dingy baseball cap.

“something so important you had to kick everyone out, bro?,” one of the other guys questioned. rafe didn’t answer, just gave him one look and the guy was backing off, hands up in surrender.

"jake… anything you wanna tell me? actually, anything any of you wanna tell me?,” rafe didn’t sound this serious most of the time, so the guy were rightfully scared– well, guys minus cam.

“man, i d’know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout,” jake tried to just shrug it off, make rafe think he was crazy for this.

“don’t know what i’m talkin’ about?,” rafe had that classic fake confusion on his face, walking closer to jake, getting in his face to utter his next words.

“just figured a real man would own up to what he did before i made him own up to it… take some responsibility y’know?,” he almost whispered. he squinted his eyes with a fake smile on his face. the whole room went deadly silent, and jake’s face was nothing short of entertaining.

"you are a real man, right? at least– that’s what you told my girl,” his aggravation was starting to break through his facade. jake just stood there– he didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to come back from this.

"lemme ask you somethin’… how many people left this house tonight under the impression that my girlfriend was gonna hook up with you behind my back? hm?,” he was furious at this point. it was one thing to speak that way to you in the first place, but run around and lie? tell everyone rafe cameron couldn’t keep his girl satisfied? oh, his blood was boiling. you just stood still where you were. when rafe got like this there was no stopping him– it was no use, and you knew that.

jake was grasping at straws at this point, “listen man, i don’t know what y/n told you… but it’s a lie. okay? i didn’t say shit to her, rafe. and i didn’t say shit to anyone else.”

“jake… jakey boy! how stupid d’you think i am? you really thought i wouldn’t find out? as if the rest of this story wasn’t humiliating enough– i’m almost offended,” rafe had turned his back on him at this point, giving you that evil smirk one more time before quickly turning on his heel, and punching straight into jake’s nose.

a loud crack! sounded through the room, jake’s hand immediately coming to hold his bleeding– probably broken– nose, bending over in pain, droplets of blood hitting the floor. rafe leaned down to get on his level.

“get. the fuck. out. i see you anywhere near this house, myself, or my girl again. you’ll wish i had just killed you tonight,” he spoke quietly, but his message was clear as day. jake quickly exited the house, but not before muttering a quick ‘you’re fucking insane cameron’.

rafe shook his hand out, moving his fingers to combat the pain from direct contact with jake’s bone.

“oh, and just so everyone’s clear… i’m goin’ easy on those of you who let him say that shit– those of you who gassed him up after he said that nasty shit to y/n. you’re on thin ice, yeah? say shit like that to my girl again, and you’ll wish i only broke your nose.”

© 𝐔𝐑𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐋𝐆𝐅.   est. 2025

TAGS .ᐟ @yktayy9669 @drewsswifeyy @drewrry @frankoceanluvr11 @dearestmillls @icaqttt @lynoriax @hpboysslut2707 @stoned-writer @angvl3tears

HARRY FOR DAZED WINTER 2021

starting to think i have a type

sometimes I feel guilty for skipping songs on my phone like I’m sorry song I love you I’m just not in the mood for you I’ll come back later though

Fez beating the shit of Nate is exactly what I needed

SEXIEST MAN ALIVE?! DAMN RIGHT HE IS

The Sound of My Voice

Based off this request:

Where Y/N and Harry were once bandmates until a bitter fallout ended everything. And where, years later, a forced reunion puts them back on stage.

Word count: 2.2k

Content warning: cursing, mentions of smoking.

Y/N arrived at the festival grounds at 12:17 PM, her right hand gripping a paper cup filled with black coffee, her left clutching a crumpled setlist. The mid-afternoon sun beat down on the asphalt, the temperature hovering around 95°F. Roadies, their shirts drenched in sweat, darted between stages. Multiple soundchecks filled the air with a mix of drum beats, guitar riffs, and microphone feedback.

Y/N's gaze fixed on the large LED schedule board. Her name appeared in bold letters, slotted for 8:45 PM - her debut as a solo act at a major festival. The sight of it twisted her stomach into knots. She took a sip of coffee, grimacing at the bitter taste.

A woman in a black polo shirt with 'STAFF' emblazoned on the back approached, her brunette hair escaping a messy ponytail. "There's been a cancellation," she said, her voice strained. "The headliner dropped out. We're scrambling for a replacement."

Y/N nodded, her eyes scanning the festival grounds. Technicians scurried about, carrying cables and equipment. A forklift beeped as it backed up, hauling speaker stacks. She took another sip of coffee, the liquid now lukewarm.

"We're thinking of a reunion set," the staff member continued, her tone shifting to excitement. "Your old band. The demand is insane. It would be—"

Coffee sprayed from Y/N's mouth, droplets splattering the asphalt. "What?" She coughed, wiping her chin with the back of her hand.

"It makes perfect sense," the woman pressed on, oblivious to Y/N's reaction. She counted off on her fingers. "You're all here. Your solo slot could be expanded. It'd be—"

"No," Y/N said immediately, and the word cut through the air. "Not possible."

She felt the pressure building behind her eyes, the past unraveling around her, an old wound reopening. She saw them on the schedule all lined up after her, the names like ghosts, haunting the crisp paper. Her certainty wavered as the whole situation unfolded in her mind. Sarah, Mitch, and most of all—

Harry.

His name sent her emotions spiraling. He was the reason. The fight. The chaos. The way everything fell apart in the end. Now, he was here, and the shock of it ran through her like lightning. She'd been so wrapped up in her nerves, so focused on taking this next step alone, that she hadn't even considered that they might be at the same festival. She'd thought there would be space, distance, time before she'd have to face them again.

The organizer was still talking, but Y/N couldn't hear her anymore. She was already being pulled back to that last fight, when everything they'd built had crumbled. A hotel room, voices raised until past midnight, until they couldn't shout anymore and were left staring at each other in silence and exhaustion.

Sarah and Mitch smashing through the minibar. Harry outside smoking.

She remembered the click of the door as she left.

She hadn't laid eyes on him since the band fell apart, since they both fell apart. That night, everything crumbled in a fight that left words suspended in the air like haunting echoes. The organizer continued, "It's a logistical miracle, honestly. The others already agreed. We just need you."

The dressing room's walls closed in. Y/N perched on the worn velvet couch, arms crossed. Mitch's tousled hair bobbed as he grinned. Sarah's laughter rang out. Adam, the once-temporary guitarist now a fixture, leaned against the wall. Their voices intertwined, swapping stories of wild nights and tour mishaps. The air reeked of sweat and anticipation.

Y/N's stomach churned. Her bandmates' easy rapport grated on her nerves. She glanced at Harry, who stood in the corner, silent and brooding. His presence set her teeth on edge.

"Remember that time in Denver?" Mitch said, eyes gleaming. "When Sarah accidentally set off the fire alarm?"

Sarah snorted. "God, don't remind me. We had to evacuate the entire hotel at 3 AM."

"In our pajamas," Adam added, smirking.

Y/N's fingernails dug into her palms. The memories flooded back - not just the good times, but the bitter arguments, the sleepless nights, the crushing pressure. She stood abruptly, chair scraping against the floor.

"I need some air," she muttered, pushing past Harry to reach the door.

The hallway stretched before her, a cacophony of sound and movement. Roadies hauled equipment. A guitar tech tuned an instrument nearby, the notes discordant and jarring. Y/N leaned against the wall, inhaling deeply.

The door creaked open behind her. Harry stepped out, his imposing frame filling the doorway. Y/N's heart raced. She turned, meeting his gaze.

"You okay?" he asked, voice low and gravelly.

Y/N's throat tightened. "Fine," she spat. "Just peachy."

Harry's jaw clenched. He stepped closer, towering over her. "Look, I know this isn't ideal-"

"Ideal?" Y/N scoffed. "That's an understatement."

"We need to make this work," Harry said, running a hand through his messy curls. "For the fans, if nothing else."

Y/N's eyes narrowed. "Don't pretend you care about the fans. This is about your ego, same as always."

Harry's nostrils flared. He opened his mouth to retort, but a stagehand interrupted.

"Five minutes to showtime," she called, hurrying past.

Y/N and Harry locked eyes, the tension between them electric. Without a word, they turned and walked back into the dressing room, the door slamming shut behind them.

But today, everything was different.

Because Harry was here.

His presence electrified the air, making Y/N's heart race and the small room feel claustrophobic. They hadn't spoken a word to each other. Across the room, she felt him tuning his guitar, tension visible in his rigid posture. The space between them was thick with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. They both pretended this was an ordinary gig, but beneath the surface, they knew there was a sea of unfinished business.

"Alright," Mitch clapped his hands together. "Setlist. What are we doing?”

They tossed around some ideas, including the obvious hits that still got radio play. For a while, it felt safe. Easy.

Then Adam mentioned the song.

Y/N’s stomach twisted. In her peripheral vision, she saw Harry shift, heard his soft exhale.

Unspoken yet understood, it hung in the air like a shared secret. The song wasn't just a melody; it was their anthem, born from the chaos of their lives.

Harry finally broke the tense silence, his voice barely above a whisper. "We don't have to do that one," he said, the words heavy with an unspoken tension.

Y/N's head jerked up in surprise. It was the first time he had spoken directly to her, and his tone sent a jolt through her chest.

Sarah interjected, her gaze darting between them. "It's what the crowd wants," she asserted, her voice unwavering.

Harry remained mute, the weight of his silence hanging thick in the air.

Y/N steeled herself, lifting her chin. "Fine," she declared, her voice edged with resolve. "Let's just get it over with."

The atmosphere was heavy as they began. Their initial try was a disaster. Mitch sighed. "Alright," he remarked, "that was terrible." Y/N buried her face in her hands.

"Yeah," Harry muttered. "No shit."

The festival grounds were teeming with people—thousands of fans crammed against the sturdy barricades, their voices a deafening chorus of screams and songs, each one surrendering to the magic of the moment. Y/N stood under the intense stage lights, gripping the microphone tightly. She used to revel in this sensation, the electric energy coursing through the air, the exhilarating rush, the way the music drowned out everything else around her. But tonight, it was different. Because he was here.

Harry was just a few feet away, his guitar slung over his shoulder. He looked comfortable, like stepping back into this world was easy. But Y/N knew better. She could feel the tension between them, simmering beneath every note.

The first few songs went fine. They hit their cues. Their harmonies were technically perfect. They moved around the stage as they used to—carefully choreographed chaos. But there was distance. They didn't look at each other or acknowledge the weight of the past pressing against the present. The crowd loved it, but Y/N knew better—they weren't really performing together.

Y/N's pulse halted as a wave of recognition and excitement swept through the crowd, amplifying the noise. She instinctively turned her head towards Harry on the other side of the stage who was already watching her—their eyes met for the first time that night.

The moment lingered, heavy with unspoken words. A mutual understanding was there, along with a disquieting dread. Yet, beneath it all, an unshakeable yearning existed, a pull that was both comforting and terrifying. The cheers became a distant hum as she tightened her grip on the mic. The opening notes hung in the air, sharp and clear. There was no turning back now.

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to take a steady breath. This is just a performance. Just another song.

But that wasn't true.

It had never been just a song.

The first verse was hers.

She closed her eyes, letting the words settle on her tongue before they escaped her lips.

“I told myself I’d be fine without you…” As she sang, the words felt like a shield, keeping him at bay.

Her voice cut through the noise with deliberate sharpness, each syllable carrying composure and defiance. There was a rawness she couldn’t hide, even though she tried to mask it with control. Yet within that steadiness lurked something else, something unrestrained and impossible to ignore. She wasn’t sure if he could hear the truth under her voice, but she could. And it terrified her.

Harry’s fingers flexed over the guitar strings, his knuckles paling from exertion. He seemed to ground himself in the music as he came in on the next line, his voice low and measured, contrasting her tremulous tone.

“I told myself I wouldn’t care.” He sounded convincing enough. But she knew him too well. She knew how he sang when he was trying to believe his own lies.

She opened her eyes and for the first time all night, really looked at him—looked at him as if she could see past their constructed barriers. The moment held them captive, fragile yet fierce. Her heart pounded in her chest and throat like a tidal wave. The way his lips shaped the words as if he still felt them. His tense shoulders, as if holding something back. His eyes, dark and unreadable, burning into hers.

The air between them thickened, charged with raw emotion. Each lyric was a dagger from the past, every note a fresh wound ripped open anew. By the time they hit the chorus, restraint had vanished, leaving raw passion in its wake.

"You swore you’d never leave me— But I watched you walk away."

Propelled by an invisible force, Y/N surged forward, not even aware of her movement until she was right there, invading his space.

Harry stood his ground. His voice dropped to a deeper, more resonant timbre as he sang the next line, his gaze unrelenting.

"You said you’d never forget me— But I knew you would someday."

The words hit. Like a challenge, like an accusation, like something too real to be ignored. His intense stare made her breath hitch. Her conflicted expression caused his fingers to tighten around the guitar. The tension cracked, spilling into the next verse.

It wasn’t just a song anymore. It had transformed into a battle, a clash of wills wrapped in harmonies, cloaked in melodies of nostalgia. It seemed like something they could simply walk away from once the music stopped. But deep down, they both knew the truth. This confrontation wasn't over. It had never truly ended.

The song ended, but the intensity of the moment hung in the air. Y/N stood too close, breath ragged and quick, adrenaline surging like wildfire. The crowd's screams were a deafening roar that barely pierced her consciousness.

Because Harry was right there. His gaze met hers, eyes dark and unreadable, filled with an intensity she couldn't understand. His fingers clung to his guitar as if it were his only anchor in a world spinning out of control.

The silence between them stretched into tension, hanging for a fraction of a second too long before the next song erupted, a tidal wave of sound that forced them apart and broke the spell.

The rest of the set was a blur.

By the time they played the final song and took their bows, Y/N could barely remember a second of it.

All she knew was that she needed to get off this stage.

She turned the second the lights dimmed, ignoring Harry's hesitation before he followed.

The moment they were backstage—hidden from the crowd, away from the cameras—she whipped around.

“What the hell was that?”

Harry barely had time to stop before she was in front of him, eyes blazing.

He scoffed, yanking his guitar strap over his head. “You tell me.”

“Oh, don’t pull that shit.” She snapped. “You—”

“What, Y/N?” He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “What do you want me to say?”

Her heart pounded.

She didn’t know if it was from the show or him.

“You were looking at me like—like—”

“Like what?” His voice was lower now, rougher. He took a step closer. “Like I meant it?”

Her breath hitched.

Because he did.

And she did, too.

And that was the problem.

She let out a sharp laugh, shaking her head. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to do this.”

His jaw tightened. “You think I did?”

“You sang that song like—”

“Like it was real?” His voice cut through the air, sharp and direct. “Because it was, Y/N. It still is.”

She felt it like a punch to the chest.

Anger, confusion, want.

“You don’t get to say that,” she whispered.

His expression flickered—just for a second—before he stepped back, rolling his shoulders as if he could shake it off.

“Right,” he muttered, voice hollow. “Because that’s what you do, isn’t it? You pretend it never happened.”

Y/N’s hands clenched. “And what do you do, Harry? You throw it in my face? Make me relive it just so you don’t have to be the only one still stuck in the past?”

His eyes flashed. “Maybe I wouldn’t have to if you actually faced it instead of running every damn time.”

She froze.

His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths.

The tension was thick, suffocating, too much.

She could hear the others in the dressing room down the hall, feel reality creeping back in.

But in this moment, it was just them.

Same fight, different place.

Same pain, different years.

Silence fell between them.

There was nothing left to say.

And maybe that was the worst part.

the feminine urge to fall in love with anyone who has the ability to genuinely make me laugh

i love dominic

EUPHORIA | Trying to Get to Heaven Before They Close the Door