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yeeehwa · 2 years ago

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Turbulence (Part Four)

Pairing: OT8 x fem!reader

Warnings: language

Word count: 3,619

Tag list: @layzfeelit @dream-in-progress @mingkilovur @jenseok17 @camzpetite @jjaelly @yeosxxx @8tinytings @marsattacks @eastleighsblog @jackinmyarea @stopeatread @goldnhwa @loverlele @popcatx0 @lost-midnight-flower @kiwibaekie @starillusion13 @vampcharxter @reallysparklychaos

A/N: I’m so so so sorry this took so long to post. Life has thrown me a TON of curveballs lately and I’ve been dealing with them the best I can. I have had this written for a while but wasn’t completely happy with it until a few days ago where I was able to edit it. I think I finally settled on the direction I want to take with this and I appreciate each and every one of you being so patient and supportive of me 💕 I’m sorry if there are any formatting errors. I uploaded on mobile at work since my computer decided to die on me. I’ll post links and everything when I get home and can borrow a laptop to use.

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Lights streamed in through the blinds and thin curtain you had haphazardly thrown up the night you moved in. It shone in your eyes and you grumbled, cuddling closer under the covers. Your hand searched for your phone as your head stayed under the covers. A few pats and extensions of your arms, you found it. Pulling the charger from it, it lit up.

“Shit!” You sat up in the bed, jerking Major awake in the process. He barked and whined, looking at you with such betrayal in his eyes as he settled himself back down. You heard him whine in discontent as you threw the covers off of you and rushed out of the room.

“Mina!”

“You don’t have to yell. I’m right here.” She emerged from the kitchen, dressed to the nines in simple black slacks and maroon button down. Black heels and a trench coat completed her outfit. “What do you want?” She looked you up and down. “Why aren’t you dressed?”

“I woke up late.” You grabbed the coffee cup out of her hand, and chugged the rest of it. Mina glared at you and you sent her a cheeky smile.

“We have to leave in 10. Hurry your ass up.” She rolled her eyes at you and turned her back to you, gone to refill her cup.

Back in your room, you looked at the outfit you had picked out days before. A pair of high waisted black and white plaid pants, and a long sleeved black sweater that you had modified. You had cut and re-hemmed the bottom just enough that if you lifted your arms and stretched a small sliver of skin would show, but still look tasteful. A cute black belt, combat boots, leather jacket and a wide brimmed hat finished your look.

You checked yourself over in the mirror, quickly swiping on a layer of mascara, and some lipgloss, you were ready. You had noticed on your walks around the city and research into the culture here that women usually went more natural with their makeup, so you decided to do the same. You grabbed your tote bag and checked through it, making sure you had your wallet, sunglasses, sketchbook, and, more importantly, all the paperwork you needed for your first day.

“Are you ready?” Mina yelled at you. You could hear her heels tapping impatiently on the tiled floor. You walked out into the hallway to meet her, Major lazily watching you both from the couch.

Mina looked you up and down, and smirked. “You’re going to cause a riot. I love it.” She eyed your tote bag. “Bring that face jewel thing you made for Hunter.”

You opened your mouth to say something when she cut you off. “Yeah yeah I snooped. It looks good, and will impress the head stylists. It’ll make a good first impression.”

Unsure, you went to protest again before she held her hand up to stop you. “If you don’t grab it. I will. Go.” She pointed towards your room.

You made a show of rolling your eyes at her before turning to grab it. “Yes mom.” Sarcasm dripped from your words as you grabbed the jewelry container that held the handmade piece. You stowed I’d safely in your bag.

She noises at you as she saw you stow the item away. “Good. Let’s go.” She walked to the front door, opened it, and waited for you.

“Bye puppy!” You leaned down and gave Major some love before hearing Mina huff out in annoyance. “Ignore her. You know she’s not a morning person.” You teased her, and kisses the top of Majors head. “We’ll go on another walk when I get home! Promise.” You walked out the door, Mina following suit and locking it behind you.

“The relationship you and your dog have is weird.” She led the way out of the lobby and down the street. You were happy you lived so close to the KQ building that you could just walk.

“You’re just jealous.” You fell a few steps behind her, and reached down to grab a small pile of snow.

“Don’t you even think about it!” Mina snapped, head still facing straight ahead.

You huffed, crossing your arms as you hurried your steps to catch up with her again. “How’d you know?”

She gave you an amused look. “You met WooSan.” She took a sip of her coffee.

“That’s fair.” The one interaction that you had with the two of them, and you already knew that they were always antagonizing Mina and the others. Troublemakers if there ever were. Especially Wooyoung.

“What are the rest of them like?” You were curious, after meeting those two, how the other six acted. Especially around each other.

Mina thought for a second. “Hongjoong is very stern. Atinys, their fans, call him the dad of the group. He can be very bold, and loves to take risks with his style, but he can also be very bashful and flusters kind of easily.” She smiled softly, thinking about the men who have become more than just her managees over the past year, they’ve become friends. Confidants in a way she didn’t think possible. “I’ve never met someone who was more of a workaholic than you until I met him.” She shoved her elbow into your side in a teasing gesture.

“Looks like I’ll have to work harder then.” You stuck your tongue between your teeth towards her, your breath clouding in the air in front of you. “What about Yeosang?” You remember her talking about them at one point or another, but his name was the only one that you remembered.

She thought for a second. “Yeosang is quiet. He may act clueless, but he’s very calculated. He’s always observing. Probably one of my favorites of the group.” She narrowed her eyes at you. “If you tell any of them that I’ll smother you in your sleep.”

You made a shocked fact and dramatically put your hand over your heart. “I would never.” You smiled at her. “But. I might use it as leverage later. We’ll see.”

She rolled her eyes at you but continued. “He’s very smart. As I said, he’s always watching. Yeosang is the type of person who will pick up on your smallest tell that something is wrong and will immediately know something is wrong. He remembers all the small things about you and will use that to his advantage. Him and Seonghwa are very similar in that way.”

You smiled as her eyes shone with fondness for the men she describes. “I know you’ve told me a little about Seonghwa. I remember you gushing to me over how handsome and gentlemanly he was.”

She smiled. “Oh yeah. I was smitten with that man. I’m thankful those feelings have settled. I can finally be in the same room as him without acting like an utter fool.” She laughed, and turned the corner. It took you a second before it registered you were turning and hurried up to catch up with her again.

“Tell me about him, since he’s obviously your favorite.” A teasing lilt to your voice as you linked your hands together.

She ignored the teasing. “The fans call him the mom of the group, and he really is. He looks out for the others and is very genuine with the love and concern he shows them. He’s very loving, and always takes care of them, and the staff. He’s the first to offer to grab staff a drink or food. One of the women who worked in the concept department was pregnant, and when Seonghwa found out? Oh boy. He asked everyone what the gender was and bought her toys and clothes for the baby. She was having a boy. I remember having to talk her out of naming her baby after him.” She sighed. “He remembers the smallest details about a person. You mention you love to read offhandedly? He’ll remember. Will probably try to find out who your favorite author is and gift a book to you. Just because.” She shrugged. “He’s a kind man.”

“I don’t think that crush is fully over yet.” You winked at her and laid your head on her shoulder, swinging your interlocked hands.

She shoved you off of her. “The only feelings I have towards him is one of a younger brother. Even though I’m only a few months older.”

You laughed then shivered. A gust of cold wind seeping into the jackets you both wore. “Are we almost there?”

“Yeah. A few more blocks. Promise.” She squeezed your hand. “Jongho is a man of few words, but damn he’s got the voice of an angel. That man is so talented, it’s crazy.” She shook her head. “He’s also very mature for being the maknae, and often gets confused as being the oldest. He told himself high, but also can be very impatient. He gets embarrassed almost as easily as Hongjoong does. He’s savage as hell though. He knows how to take teasing and throw it right back, with some bite.” She laughed to herself. “He also hates the quiet.” She added.

You looked at her confused. “He’s quiet, but hates the quiet?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. I’m going to need you to elaborate.”

“He’s quiet when they’re all together. But if there’s silence or a kind of lul in the conversation, he’ll start singing. Loudly. Beautifully, but loudly. I can’t hear myself think sometimes.” She chuckled at her last statement. “But I love him. I love all of them.”

You nodded, understanding what she meant. “I envy the relationships you seem to have built with them.” You looked down at your hands, playing with the rings you wore. “I hope that I can build relationships like that with KQ Fellaz. And Ateez, if you’re so determined to get me to work with them.”

Mina grabbed both your hands, noticing your figiting. “Stop that.” She knew your tells, and knew you were starting to get really anxious about your first day. “I promise, you will be okay. I’ll be with you the whole day. Edenary has the boys today, so I’m all yours.” She wrapped one of her arms around your shoulders and squeezed.

You instantly felt some tension leave you. You smiled at her gratefully when she pulled away. “Thank you.”

“What are besties for? Speaking of besties, I haven’t told you about Yungi yet.”

You cocked another eyebrow at her. “Yungi?”

“Best friends. Almost as close as Woosan. But, not as chaotic, thank god. Those two alone turn my hair gray.” She laughed. “Mingi is such a shy, sweet man. Complete opposite of how he is on stage. The duality he has is unreal. He’s like Yeosang, but genuinely is confused. He’s the biggest teddy bear. He has anxiety too.”

She sent you a small smile, and you felt a little more tension left. If an idol, who is in the press and followed around daily can do it and still be in the spotlight, you’d be fine in the background, for now. You let yourself focus on that as Mina stopped.

“Where here.” She laced her hand through yours once again. “You ready?”

You took a deep breath and nodded, but you knew she could feel how clammy your hands were. She squeezed. “You’re gonna do fine. I bet you once you meet Sumin, you’ll love him! He likes to modify clothes too.”

You perked up at that. “A kid after my own heart.” You fake swooned as Mina lead you toward the doors of KQ Entertainment.

“Hongjoong likes it too. I bet once you meet, he’ll just die. None of our stylists create or modify. They just source and get stuff commissioned.” Mina smirked, knowing exactly how Hongjoong would react once he saw your sketchbook, and knowing how loose-lipped Wooyoung was, he would’ve been bragging to Hongjoong about what he saw when he essentially broke into your room the other night while you worked.

“Deep breath, and let’s go.” Mina opened the door and pushed you into the lobby.

The lobby was very homey, and not at all what you expected. There was an entryway that made you scan a badge and would let you through a little door that opened, almost like the subway stations back in New York. Beside them sat a large white desk with the KQ Entertainment logo. A few people milled around the desk, while two ladies sat behind it. One on the phone, speaking quickly and the other looking at the computer screen in front of her.

“You’re missing the best part.” You couldn’t see her, but could tell that Mina had a mischievous smile on her face.

You sharply turned to look at her, eyes wide. You already started to feel a little overwhelmed. “What’s that?”

“The Cafe.” She smirked at you. “They have coffee.” At your grimace she rolled her eyes at you. “And tea.” That earned her a smile. “You’re weird. Everyone likes coffee.”

“I guess I’m not everyone.” You shrugged, eyes still scanning the lobby. “If this is just the lobby, I'm excited to see the rest of the building.”

Mina smiled. “We need to get you your badge first, and your meeting with the big boss. Then I can give you an official tour. I think KQ Fellaz are recording some tiktoks today too, so you might be able to meet some, if not all, of them.”

You nodded, processing everything she had just told you. “Okay.”

She grabbed your wrist and dragged you over to the counter and conversed with one of the ladies there, and was handed a packet. You didn’t pay attention, too busy gawking at all the people and the decor.

“Thank you!” You heard Mina say, and you focused in on the conversation again. She turned and looked at you, slowly walking towards the little entryway. “You didn’t listen to a word we said, did you.” It wasn’t a question. More of a statement.

A blush crept up your neck and your ears turned red. “Maybe.”

She rolled her eyes at you. “Scan this.” She handed you a basic white card, vaguely reminiscent of a credit card. “It’s exactly like the subway at home. Scan the card, go through the doors. Simple.” She did as she had instructed you to do as an example and you followed her lead.

You followed her down a hallway to the elevators, your eyes darting back and forth from all the posters on the wall. A soloist you’ve never heard of, Young Saeng, and a group of eight men you knew to be Ateez, recognizing Wooyoung and San. The other six members looked familiar, but you couldn’t figure out why. You chose to ignore that feeling as you entered the elevator behind Mina.

“The stylist department is on the third floor. Along with makeup, and basically every other visual aspect KQ talent goes through. Maddox, Ateez, and KQ Fellaz frequently rotate through, so you’ll become familiar with them all soon enough.

“The first floor is the cafe, check in area, and all basic needs. The second floor is where idols spend most of their time. Dance studios and recording rooms. I cannot begin to tell you how often I have found Hongjoong asleep at the mixing station.” She smiled fondly. “The fourth floor is upper management and such. I spend way too much time there, and prefer being on the second floor.”

The elevator stopped, and the doors slid open. “You’ll be meeting with the head stylists and some other management. I’ll be in the meeting as well. If you need grounding, just look at me.” She smiled warmly at you and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze as you followed her into the meeting room.

Eight pairs of eyes zeroed in on you both as you entered the room. Men and women dressed in full suits, or business casual, or a weird mix of both. You mentally grimaced at one of the men who wore a bright orange shirt button down under his blazer.

“Ah. You must be Y/N!” A lady said, a closed lip smile on her face. “Mina-ah has told us a lot about you.”

You shot Mina the side eye as she blushed and ducked her head in embarrassment. She detached herself from your side, slightly shoving you to one end of the table, and she joined the group of people on the other side.

You bowed before addressing them. “I am. I really do appreciate this opportunity.” You put your hands behind your back as you stood, nervously figuring with the rings you always wore. Mina noticed and sent you an encouraging head nod.

You swallowed nervously. “As Mina has probably told you, I do more than style, but design as well.” You reached into your bag that was still slung over your shoulder. “I’ve been watching some of the content that has been posted about them and trying to get an idea of what their personalities are like and what they seem to be comfortable in.” You opened the pad and flipped to a page of Minjae.

“Looking closely at Minjae, and knowing his interests, I took a more hip-hop styled approach.” You quickly laid it on the table and pushed it slightly towards the nine people who looked at you with curiosity.

One man leaned forward to slide the sketchbook closer to them. You mentally pictured what they saw. Mainly black colored sweatpants with accents of white on the flaps of pockets and strings that hung down from the sides. An oversized sweater that had smoke in the shape of hands reaching for each other in the middle of it. It was nothing super original to you, just one of the first things that came to your mind when you first saw Minjae.

The silence in the room was deafening as they all flipped through your sketchbook. Small hums can be heard, but you weren’t sure if they were of appreciation or distaste. That is, until they got to the face chain you made for Hunter.

An approving hum came from a woman who you were sure was as the head stylist by how she was dressed. She wore cream colored pants that were rolled up at the ankles, a white button down underneath a beige knit sweater vest. She looked effortlessly put together and she was stunning in your eyes.

You looked at Mina, who gave you a dazzling smile. “She made it too. I watched her. Wooyoung almost broke it as she worked on it, trying to convince her to let him wear it.” She laughed. “I made her bring it with her today.”

You were already finishing around in your bag for the little jewelry case that held the chain when you were asked to bring it out. Your hand clutched the velvety box and you let out a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. You never liked showing your creations to strangers when they knew you made it.

You pulled out the box slowly, hands shaking, and set it on the table, slowly sliding it towards them. The woman grabbed it and slowly opened it, her face staying neutral this time. Her eyes darted from the box to the drawing, not saying a word.

She passed the box to the next person and so on until all of them had seen it. They all shared looks before one man cleared his throat. “There are some things we need to discuss. If you could please sit outside for a moment.”

You froze when he said that. Were they going to fire you? Before you even started? Your blood ran cold and your heart pounded in your chest. “O-of course.” You studdeded and slowly walked towards the door.

A few agonizing minutes after standing outside, and almost on the brink of an anxiety attack, the door to the meeting room opened behind you, and Minas' voice called to you. It didn’t sound angry, or disappointed. “Y/N? You can come back now.”

You took a few deep, calming breaths as you turned to face her, hands clasped together tightly to hide how nervous you were. “I’m fired, aren’t I?”

She rolled her eyes before pulling you back into the meeting room and directed you to stand in the same spot as before.

“After seeing what you designed, and the chain you created” the man who sat in the middle of the group started. Your eyes shifted to Mina, who sent you a thumbs up. “We would like to offer you to work with Ateez.”

You stood there, stunned for a moment, while trying to figure out what words were and how to use them again.

“It would be temporary. Think of it like a trial of sorts.” A lady who sat to the left of you said. “Ateez is competing on another show that's very similar to how Kingdom was. The team could use someone like you to help with the designs.” She gave you a warm smile.

Your eyes widened. “That’s a lot of responsibility to throw onto someone who hasn’t proved their worth. I don’t think I can accept. I-“

The same woman waved her hand in the air, causing your words to die in your throat. “Nonsense. What we hear from Mina, and the designs you’ve showed us already, we have faith that you’ll succeed.” Her smile never left her face.

You eyes shot to Mina and she sent you a smug grin as you mustered up a nervous smile. You were too much of a people pleaser to say no.

“I accept.”

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melpomenelamusa · 12 days ago

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Pity Party Pt. 1 - Chimeras

~Original story~

CW: Lady whumpee, lady whumper, pet whump, exhibition, electrocution, shock collar, physical abuse, blood and injury.

A couple of weeks passed. Fidi still hadn't gotten completely used to Tigri's company, but she enjoyed it. The boy was funny and witty, and allowed her to get a little joy and novelty into her monotonous and boring life.

Unlike her, Tigri didn't think twice before showing his discontent with Madame Lavenza's requests, either through his expressions (rolling his eyes or pouting) or muttering curses under his breath whenever he had the chance, which in many cases got him into trouble and punishment.

The only time he seemed to put a pause on his little war against the millionaire woman was when, one day, she gave him a pair of glasses. They weren't like typical glasses, because instead of temples, they had a strap that went around the head, more like goggles.

"I'm nearsighted," Tigri explained to Fidi, reunited again in the boy's room to chat and hang out. “As you can tell by my ears, I can't wear regular glasses. My parents had a hard time getting the ones I had before. I lost them when I was kidnapped; but I'm glad to have them back with me. I was fed up with not being able to see well from a distance.”

Although Tigri used to be defiant and brave in Fidi's presence, the girl knew that deep down he was the one who was more scared. And she didn't blame him. It hadn't been just once when Fidi found him curled up in some corner of the mansion, trying to hide his swollen and wet eyes or the marks on his body left by whatever punishment Madame Lavenza had decided to give him that time.

"I'm fine," he would say, always. "We´ll escape from here and then we'll remember these moments and laugh."

Fidi wanted to think that would be the case.

That day, during breakfast, Madame Lavenza informed them that they were going to a special event.

"I was invited to a cocktail party, which will have a pet exhibition as a show. All you have to do is stay still and quiet and look pretty for the public. Some people might even want to touch you or take pictures with you. Do whatever people want, but don't embarrass me.”

The woman looked back at her phone before waving them off.

“I’m busy. Someone will bring you your clothes later. We’ll leave at four.”

Shortly after noon, a maid brought the outfit Fidi would wear to her room for the event. It was a short, tight-fitting green dress made of stretchy, light-reflecting fabric. Fidi couldn’t help but think that it was an extremely boring and ungraceful garment, made only to make her uncomfortable and to highlight the non-existent curves of her body. The shoes were transparent stilettos, which the girl didn’t know how she would be able to bear for however long the exhibition would last.

When she got dressed and looked in the mirror, she could only compare herself to a green bean pod. Her completely uncovered arms and legs revealed her scales, which cast small pearly sparkles in the light.

After the stylist in charge finished with her make-up, Fidi went out into the hall. There she met Tigri. The boy was wearing gold leather pants and a long-sleeved, see-through shirt, which perfectly showed off the dark skin underneath. Fidi could also notice for the first time the black stripes that covered the boy's back, like tattoos.

"Nice... stripes," she said.

"Nice scales, I guess."

They remained in an awkward silence, waiting for Madame Lavenza to finish getting ready.

"Be honest with me," Tigri said, almost whispering so only Fidi could hear. "How horrible will it be?"

"I'm not going to lie to you," the girl replied. Her feet were already starting to hurt just standing. "It might be horrible. But it will pass. It always does."

The vehicle arrived and Madame Lavenza gave the order to leave. The journey, as always, was silent. Fidi watched through the tinted car window most of the time, only stealing a few glances at Tigri, whose head rested on Madame Lavenza's lap, while the woman ran her spider-like fingers through the boy's orange curls. From his expression and the way his tail moved, it was clear that he was uncomfortable and nervous.

They arrived at a huge white building that resembled a box and walked forward. There were already many people inside. Scattered around the room were small circular platforms, where the chimera children would stay for the duration of the exhibition. Fidi had already been to a couple of similar events before and knew how they worked. It was like going to a museum to see statues, except that these ones breathed and felt and didn't want to be there.

The girl looked around the guests and the other chimera children present, looking for a pair of long, golden ears; but she didn't find them. She spotted Fredrik near the bar chatting with another man, but found no trace of the rabbit girl. She didn't know whether to feel relief or fear. Truth be told, she hated seeing Neli attend these kinds of events. She hated seeing the disgusting looks men gave her or the hands that dared to touch her body without her consent.

Maybe it's best that she's not here, Fidi thought.

The exhibition began and went on as normal. Fidi just had to stay still on her little platform and look pretty. Maybe it was because of her yellow eyes and her permanently vertical pupil, her face as pale as a corpse and her skinny body, but usually, people didn't stop for long in front of her. There was always the sick man who always made unpleasant comments about her appearance or vulgar insinuations, but at least Fidi never worried about harassment. She supposed that in such cases it was worth taking Madame Lavenza's words into account and considering herself an "exotic beauty."

She couldn't say the same for Tigri. His platform was a little further behind her, so she couldn't see him; but she could hear some murmurs and noticed how large groups of people gathered in that direction. Whether he took it well or badly, it seemed that Tigri was proving quite popular.

The minutes passed extremely slowly. Fidi's feet were killing her because of her heels, feeling as if she had stakes in the soles of her feet, and she couldn't wait for the moment when she could return to the mansion and fall into bed.

It was then that she heard the scream.

A woman screamed, and then more followed, along with the murmur of several frightened and surprised people. Fidi couldn't help but turn around immediately, and what she saw gave her goosebumps: There was a woman on the ground, the one who had screamed first. Her right arm was streaked with four bloody lines. And in front of her, still on his platform, was Tigri, breathing heavily. The fingers of the boy's right hand were stained with blood.

"Make way!" a voice shouted, and a trio of security guards began to push people aside. One of them pointed a gun at Tigri. "Hands up!" he ordered.

Tigri didn't do anything. Maybe no one else saw it, but it was then that Fidi noticed: the boy's wide, unfocused eyes, his chest rising and falling frantically, his hands and shoulders shaking...

"I said hands up!"

Fidi moved. Her feet pricked her with thousands of needles with each step, but she didn't care, and ran until she was between Tigri and the gun.

"Don't shoot!" she screamed. Her voice came out shriller than usual, revealing her distress. "Please don't shoot, he's having a panic attack!"

Her words seemed to have some effect, as the guard lowered his gun slightly. The girl didn't waste a second then turning to her partner, who was on the verge of hyperventilating.

"Tigri, listen to me, breathe with me. 1, 2, 3..."

Fidi inhaled deeply, counting from one to three before exhaling and repeating the next combo. Tigri tried to follow the girl's instructions, and although her breathing was still unstable and her whole body seemed to want to collapse, he inhaled and exhaled with her until his breathing was acquiring a more normal rhythm.

"Good, good, like that," said the girl. She was beginning to feel some relief when suddenly a strong electric current ran through her body. Fidi let out a scream and fell to her knees on the floor.

"Fidi!" Tigri shouted, trying to reach her.

"One more move and I'll turn up the voltage!"

Fidi didn't have to see to recognize the voice, approaching along with the particular clicking of heels. Nor did she need to look up to know that she would find herself facing the angry face of Madame Lavenza.

"You are an insolent animal," she heard her say furiously.

"This is all your fault, you fucking bitch!" Tigri replied.

Fidi observed the scene, feeling her heart in her throat. This was not good at all, and everything seemed to indicate that it was not going to end well for anyone.

Madame Lavenza raised her eyebrows and twisted her swollen lips in an expression of complete indignation.

"You're going to pay for this!" she exclaimed.

Tigri hunched his back and spread his arms. His curved fingers revealed his sharp claws. Madame Lavenza took a step forward; but instead of going towards the tiger boy, she turned towards the snake girl and without warning kicked her in the face.

Fidi fell to the ground from the force of the impact. A thread of saliva and blood slid from the corner of her lips down her chin and her tongue filled with a metallic taste. Before she could do anything else, the woman grabbed her hair and slammed her head into the tiled floor. Pain exploded in the girl's temple, whose gaze became blurred for a few moments. The fingers left her hair, but the relief was short-lived, because a few seconds later another current of electricity made her writhe and scream on the floor.

"Leave her alone!" Tigri demanded. His voice sounded desperate.

"You'll have to ask me in a nicer way, kitty," Madame Lavenza said in a sing-song tone.

Once again electricity shot through Fidi's body. The girl didn't even know if she was screaming, because her ears only picked up the pounding of her pulse and the crying of her muscles and organs. Her throat burned and her mouth tasted of blood.

Tigri said something again, but the girl couldn't make out the words. Out of sheer instinct, Fidi stretched out her arms, crawling to try to get away, her body sliding pitifully across the smooth tiled floor. She didn't get very far before something thin and painful dug into the middle of her back, preventing her from moving forward.

A voice spoke over her head, mocking. Again someone pulled her hair and began to drag her in the opposite direction. The friction hurt the skin on the girl's legs, who was too weak to try to stand up or fight to free herself from the grip. She tried to open her eyes, which had apparently been held tightly shut, but she could barely make out amorphous blobs sailing across her field of vision.

It was then that someone pushed her head and her face slammed into something hard. The thing shattered into pieces. Fidi felt tiny cuts begin to burn on her face and blood trickle down and mix with the tears on her skin. The hand holding her head released it and Fidi fell to the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut. The instant her skull collided with the ground her consciousness faded away.

Taglist: @scoundrelwithboba @morning-star-whump @lancedoncrimsonwings @3-2-whump @whumped-by-glitter @string-of-broken-hearts

I really like this chapter, sorry Fidi qwq

The next chapter will be this same event, but from Tigri's pov.

Thank you so much for reading! Take a little star ⭐

#my writing #my ocs #original whump #original story #original character #chimera children #ofidia oc #tigri oc #whump #whump community #whump writing #whumblr #lady whumpee #lady whumper #pet whump

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styleofdiamandis · 2 years ago

Photo

PHOTOSHOOT: MARINA FOR NYLON MAGAZINE

Marina’s editorial fashion back in 2019 was more than amazing. From wearing some of her favorite labels to emerging designers, she gave us everything and more. Here’s what she wore for her NYLON story.

She was photographed by Sacha Perlstein and styled by Jenna Igneri. Both hair and makeup were done by Stephanie Peterson.

For the first look, Marina kept it clean in a white cross-over jumpsuit with wide legs by PH5 which she layered on top of the Rachel Comey Spring/Summer 2019 Armplus black floral lace blouse with puff sleeves.

To accessorize her look, Marina chose these Lizzie Fortunato Sun Bleached disc hoops in faux pearl and rose quartz stone tops...

...and a pair of Nicole Saldaña's Alyssa lucite wedge heel square toe sandals with wrap-around strap.

Look n.2 brings some more color with a yellow ribbed cut-out crop top from Aritzia's in-house label Wilfred Free. Marina's black leather pants with split sides are signed by Italian emerging designer label DROMe. The most similar thing I've found were these Fall/Winter 2017 pants.

I am frankly OBSESSED with these Alexis Bittar limited edition multicolored lucite and gold metal post earrings on Marina!

Footwear designer Nicole Saldaña makes a return with her Gabi pink leather strappy wedge sandals!

How stunning does Marina look in this 3.1 Phillip Lim look?! She wears his Spring/Summer 2019 sheer white maxi dress with contrasting black cherry appliqués all over which was presented during New York Fashion Week.

Underneath, she rocks a black tank bodysuit by Uniqlo.

A pair of Erickson Beamon’s Temptress hanging crystal statement earrings completed the look.

Time for the last look, which is actually an outtake! Stylist Jenna was sweet enough let me personally know that Marina wore the Rachel Comey Spring/Summer 2019 Agave belted nude leather wrap blazer with large pockets!

The striking red, soft knitted, ribbed crop sweater with round neckline and open back featuring a tie detail, and matching high-waisted briefs are both by Live The Process.

Both her adorable Blanc daisy pearl drop earrings with gold metal...

...and Arc thick domed cuff in marbled "Dune" lucite are signed by Lizzie Fortunato, who we’ve talked about before in this post.

And finally, the Welsh singer sported a pair of these Via Spiga Porter color-block leather mules with block heels!

#PH5 #Rachel Comey #Lizzie Fortunato #Nicole Saldana #DROMe #Aritzia #Wilfred Free #Alexis Bittar #3.1 Phillip Lim #Uniqlo #Erickson Beamon #Via Spiga #Live The Process

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hillslicensing-blog · 7 months ago

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Contemporary Edge: Integrating the Men's Leather Biker Vest into Modern Fashion

New Post has been published on https://ashipwreckinthesand.com/contemporary-edge-integrating-the-mens-leather-biker-vest-into-modern-fashion/

Contemporary Edge: Integrating the Men's Leather Biker Vest into Modern Fashion

Men’s Moto Vest Fashion Evolution

Motorcycle vests, often known as mens moto vest, began as utilitarian clothing to protect riders. The rugged and rebellious biker subculture of the 1920s and 1930s created these vests from leather to provide comfort and weatherproofing. Motorcycles and their gear, particularly the moto vest, became emblems of freedom and revolt.

The moto vest’s evolution from practical to fashionable illustrates its versatility and longevity. Hollywood actors like Marlon Brando in “The Wild One” popularized leather bikers and moto vests in the 1950s. The moto vest was known for its straightforward accessibility, riding comfort, and tough-guy attitude.

Moto vests became fashionable in the 1960s and 1970s. Designers embellished denim and canvas with patches and pockets. Music subcultures popularized the moto vest in men’s apparel this decade.

Men’s moto vests were suede, corduroy, and high-tech by the 1980s. More materials allowed more customization and expression with new colors and designs. Fashion designers employed moto vests as statement garments that blended tailoring and street-style roughness.

Heritage labels and vintage styles resurged in the 1990s and early 2000s, bringing back the leather moto vest. Though different, this resurgence emphasized artistry and legacy. Luxury companies and artisanal designers added designer branding, handmade metalwork, and hand-worked leather to the vest.

Today, men’s moto vests combine usefulness and style. Contemporary versions combine sturdiness with modern design. Slim-fit cuts, minimalist patterns, and eco-friendly materials appeal to modern fashionistas who appreciate style and sustainability. Intelligent materials and modular attachments show how the Moto vest is evolving for 21st-century wearers, who may use it for urban transportation and statement fashion.

The moto vest’s diversity in styling shows its enduring significance in menswear. It can be worn over hoodies and t-shirts for a casual style or with pristine button-downs and fitted pants for high-low fashion juxtapositions popular in New York, London, and Tokyo.

Beyond its aesthetic and functional qualities, the men’s moto vest is culturally significant. It represents revolt and freedom, which young cultures and countercultural movements worldwide love. From rock stars to film characters, cultural icons wear it, giving it value beyond its riding association.

With technology advances and changing fashion tastes, the mens moto vest will undoubtedly evolve. Future fabric technology advances, such as thermal and weather resistance, will make the vest more functional without sacrificing elegance. Moto vests will also use eco-friendly materials and ethical production methods as global environmental consciousness grows.

In conclusion, the men’s moto vest has gone from motorcycle gear to mainstream and high fashion. Now a versatile garment with durability, style, and a non-conformist charm, it appeals to many fashion enthusiasts worldwide. The moto vest continues to evolve as a sign of cultural resilience and stylistic adaptation, illustrating that some clothes tell tales.

Making the Men’s Moto Vest Work in Everyday Fashion

The versatility and toughness of a men’s moto vest make it a unique addition to any man’s collection. Traditionally worn by motorcyclists and rock singers, the moto vest has become stylish for numerous types and events.

For those unfamiliar with its unique vibe, incorporating a mens moto vest into regular outfits may initially appear difficult. However, when done well, the moto vest can offer a unique touch to even the most basic outfits, from daytime to nighttime.

Moto vests go nicely with basic clothes for regular wear. Consider a white t-shirt, dark-wash slim-fit jeans, and robust leather boots. A moto vest adds texture and visual appeal to this outfit. Choose a vest in black or brown made of distressed leather or waxed canvas to tone the outfit.

Small, clever embellishments elevate this basic outfit. A simple watch, aviator sunglasses, and leather bracelet can accent the vest without overpowering it. Layer a flannel shirt or lightweight sweatshirt under the vest for cooler days. This gives the clothing a flash of color or design and added warmth.

Moto vests can also be worn in wiser settings. The vest looks sophisticated and edgy, with a button-down shirt and chinos. Make sure the shirt and pants fit well to preserve a slim silhouette. Finish this ensemble with high-quality sneakers or desert boots for a stylish look.

Select a moto vest with less noticeable hardware and a cleaner design for smart casual wear. Soft suede and matte leather look more elegant than rough leather. Mild colors like charcoal, navy, or olive make a vest more adaptable and less biker-oriented.

Even though evening gatherings are usually more formal, the moto vest can be worn. It can be a chic, unique evening wear option when worn with the proper clothes. Consider wearing a black moto vest over a tailored oxford shirt with dark, slim-fitting pants and leather loafers to a cocktail party or upscale night out.

A silk neck scarf or pocket square might bring classic men’s elegance to the vest’s modern edge. A good merino wool turtleneck under a well-fitted moto vest, tailored jeans, and polished dress shoes can produce a striking and attractive look for formal occasions.

Moto vest styling must alter with the seasons. Wear the vest over linen or fine cotton in warm weather for comfort and style. Wearing the vest with Bermuda shorts and loafers for weekend getaways or casual meetings creates a comfortable yet put-together look.

Cooler weather brings out the vest’s layering potential. It’s excellent over thicker knitwear, long-sleeve henleys, and beneath coats for insulation. The moto vest and wool coat’s textured interaction provides warmth and style in a small, fashionable package.

Keep your clothing simple to make a men’s moto vest stand out. Avoid busy patterns and bright colors elsewhere in your clothing to seem coherent.

Also, the vest’s hardware and other elements should be analyzed. Punk-inspired spikes, studs, and discreet zippers and snaps can characterize the piece’s style. Choose based on the event and impression you want.

The men’s moto vest is an excellent addition to any fashion-conscious man’s wardrobe since it offers a unique blend of style, comfort, and functionality. The moto vest may boost everyday fashion by quickly moving from casual to smart casual and even formal with the proper accessories. The moto vest’s importance in menswear evolves with fashion.

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sgsminabags · 2 years ago

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Prada Bags the season that's all about a mod

Elevate the hue ever so slightly in a pair of houndstooth flared pants by Stella McCartney. Atop, Toteme's tube top is a favorite on our fall shopping list. The street style spotted in between each show or event is equally as inspiring and also telling of what our fashion future has in store. One person shows off her pair of yellow tinted shades and says, "I'm really into light lenses.

In the past, you could go through my slideshow and figure out what shows happened that day based on what the influencers and major editors were wearing. Style the black jeans a la Jenner with a cropped black T shirt from The Frankie Shop and Wandler's Hannah' shoulder bag.

The pieces are still her to the core in other words, fun just more refined. The star has been working with her longtime stylist Kate Young, and together they've cultivated a fresh new look for Prada Bags the season that's all about a mod, 1960s inspired sensibility.

Will runway shows resume in person, or will designers pivot back to virtual presentations. Perhaps the street style set is moving away from flashy micro bags and instead choosing something more versatile and practical such as black leather. Add a touch of chicness to your outfits with a classic style. Vogue partnered with the Tory Burch Foundation to have shelves lined with Vogue themed merchandise and snacks like Bixby Chocolate and Partake Foods cookies from companies founded by female entrepreneurs.

At Lagos's spring 2023 shows, street stylers are putting their best foot clad in Bottega boots forward. Guests are bringing the drama in head to toe monochromatic looks in bold colorways, as well as lots of ruffles, fur, and textures. The check in area Prada Handbags for show attendees was transformed into a dynamic corner store. The whole ensemble was a literal clean slate an expensive one at that, thanks to slick tailoring and sharp accessories.

With Daniel Roseberry's return to the runways for Schiaparelli and Glenn Martens's first couture collection for Jean Paul Gaultier, couture week is packed with can't miss shows. Chances are guests will be bringing their best looks forward to attend the week's most newsworthy events, and Style Du Monde will be following along in Paris as editors, celebrities, and models show off couture jewelry, matching couple looks, and the season's most memorable pieces.

A perfect pointed toe black boot instantly dresses up any outfit in mind. Soft to the Clutch Grab a hold of something warm and fuzzy this fall, like Loewe's Flamenco furry clutch or Altuzarra's shearling shoulder bag. Not only is she a supermodel spanning the globe, but Jenner also serves as the creative director of FWRD. So it's no surprise High Quality Prada Bags that she's often captured from meeting to meeting sporting a business casual look or two.

#Prada

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alligatormv · 7 years ago

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damn i wish that was me

21 of 30 Days of Bang // TenAsia September 2014 Making Film

#yongguk #b.a.p #matokinetwork #fyiedit #bapnet #babyznet #bapedits #mgroupsedit #boyidoledit #gd he's hot #@ stylists bring back leather pants #tloml #bap #bias list #ult #pg:gifs #pg:idol set #pg:30daysofbang

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nationalharryleague · 4 years ago

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Two for the Show

Summary: Jeff plans for Harry’s new opening act to be more than that.

Genre: Famous Fake Dating!

Word Count: 17.1k!

Pinterest Board

A/N: Hey babes!! This is something I’ve been working on since December now and I’m so fucking proud of it and how it turned out!!! It’s the longest thing I’ve ever written and I’m so so so excited to hear what everyone has to say!! Giant thank you’s go out to the incredible soph (@theharriediaries) and Lu (@meetmymouth) bc this never would have come to fruition without them and their help!! Please let me know what you think!! More of my writing can be found in my masterlist!! Happy reading y’all :)

***

Keeping appearances in the public eye is a delicate balance.

If Y/N was being honest with herself, everything Full Stop Management had ever suggested to her had worked, and very well. When they suggested her music took a more pop direction, they set her up with a team of fantastic producers and her music sales and popularity skyrocketed. And when they set up an appointment with a celebrity stylist to figure out her signature style, it worked; they turned her into the 1970’s inspired goddess she had always dreamed of being. Even the hours of media training that she had been put through worked, helping her learn how to bob and weave even the most intrusive of interview questions.

But this time, she thought they might be going too far.

“Jeff,” she began with a sigh and a doubtful shake of her head, “I don’t know about this one.”

“It’s just a few months before and during the tour,” explained the man sitting across from her at the long conference table. “You’ll be seen in public a few times to drum up publicity for the tour and your album, maybe do an interview or two together, and some light PDA.”

His expression was honest and earnest. In the time he had represented her, he had never done anything to her that didn’t help her succeed. It was not hard for her to believe that he just wanted what was best for her and her career.

But something kept holding her back.

“I just got my heart broken in the most public way,” she said softly, absentmindedly fiddling with the base of her ring finger where an engagement ring once sat. “Isn’t it a little too soon to be seen jumping back into a whirlwind romance?”

“I don’t think so. If anything, it will make James look even worse than he already does after what he did to you.” She had to admit the idea of a little revenge did perk her ears up a bit. “And it doesn’t hurt that Harry is so universally loved and known for being such a good guy.”

That was another reason she was skeptical of this entire plot. This was Harry Styles they were talking about; Harry fucking Styles. She had only met him once or twice while working out details for her to be the opening act for his upcoming tour, but she had been a big fan of his and idolized him since she was a teen. Just meeting him threw her inner 16 year old self for a loop, let alone trying to pretend she was in love with him.

In all honesty, it probably wouldn’t be too hard on her end once she got over being starstruck; she wasn’t so sure she still wasn’t kind of in love with him, or at least the version the public saw.

“Listen,” Jeff began again, his voice taking on a bluntness, “no one cares about the opening act. No one bought tickets to see you; they’re there to see Harry.” His words stung but she knew it was the truth. “But if they think you are a part of Harry’s life, they care about you too. And they will keep on caring about you after they leave the show.” Her apprehensiveness must have been clear on her face when he put on a gentle smile. “He’s a really nice person. I promise.”

“I know,” she breathed, a small pout finding its way to her lips. “Fine,” she conceded after a moment, throwing her hands up in the air dramatically to signal surrender. “I’m in.”

A triumphant grin spread across his face. “Thank you. I’ll go call Harry and tell him you’re down.” She watched as he got up from his chair and came towards her, pressing a brief and friendly kiss to the top of her head. “You won’t regret this, Y/N.”

“I better not, Azoff,” she chuckled while shaking her head slightly.

Soon she was alone in the conference room, basking in the light from the floor to ceiling windows that sat before her.

“What did I just get myself into?” she mumbled quietly to herself.

***

The answer to that question came two weeks later when she was sitting across a table from the Harry Styles at a small outdoor brunch spot in LA. Their meeting place was strategic, a small restaurant, not too flashy so it didn’t look like they were seeking attention, but outdoors where anyone could see. It was only a matter of time before he was recognized, and the sighting was almost guaranteed to be trending on Twitter only minutes later.

She couldn’t say that she wasn’t nervous. The inside of her mouth had been chewed raw and the bags under her eyes showed she had been having trouble sleeping in the nights leading up to their first appearance together. By the end of the day, she would most likely have countless articles written about her and possibly have millions of angry fangirls coming after her; even though their “relationship” wouldn’t be officially confirmed for a few weeks.

If all went to Jeff’s plan, she would become an A-lister overnight.

She stood in front of her closet for over an hour, trying on and taking off outfits before finally settling on her favorite pair of bright red corduroy flares and a crisp white textured halter top. She paired the outfit with a new pair of heeled leather boots. They were a flashy pair that were split down the middle, bright yellow on one side and white with yellow stars on the other, hoping Harry would appreciate the bold colors.

She meticulously did her makeup, sure to match her lipstick color exactly to the shade of her pants; and spent far too long in front of the mirror fussing with her hair, praying it would lay the way she wanted it to.

She knew that she was going to be photographed in some way shape or form, and with the fashion icon himself. She had to look good. He had been on the cover of Vogue for god’s sake.

When she finally arrived at the cafe, Harry sat quietly across from her. He looked casual, or as casual as Harry Styles gets. A yellow t-shirt, that was tight enough to look as if it was painted on, showed off his muscular chest and arms. His iconic tattoos illustrated his arms and she hoped he wouldn’t notice as she covertly tried to examine closely. He uncomfortably ran his palms down the legs of his high waisted denim flares that had been paired with his signature pearl necklace and ratty, but well loved, white vans.

And she couldn’t forget his rings. His signature gold ‘H’ and ‘S’ looked back at her as he gently grasped his flute filled to the brim with a mimosa, bringing it to his pink lips that were surrounded by the short stubble he had been wearing lately.

The pair sat in a slightly awkward silence, both seeming to down their mimosas quickly just because it was something to do with their hands and could occupy their lips so they didn’t have to talk.

To say she was panicking, wouldn’t be too much of an over exaggeration. She was sitting across from one of the world’s biggest stars, and as one of his biggest closeted fans. The things he could do for her career were astronomical and it was hard to ignore that, but she also had a hard time getting over the way his hair seemed to fall into perfect tousled curls and his dreamy green eyes.

She had been in love with him (or at least the idea of him) since she was 16. She couldn’t help it.

But the bottomless mimosas helped to break her anxiety, and apparently his as well, as they both began to feel a slight buzz.

“So how did Jeff end up talking you into this?” Harry eventually broke the silence, the alcohol lowering his naturally shy inhibitions just enough to kick off their conversation.

She let a playful eye roll take over her face before she began. “Oh Jeff,” she said jokingly, letting out a long sigh. “I was convinced somewhere in between ‘it’ll make your ex look bad’ and a stern ‘no one ever cares about the opening act,’” she chuckled, while sarcastically wagging her finger in the air, dramatically re-enacting his scolds.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth, letting out a dramatic ‘ouch.’ “He’s not always gentle, is he?” matching her chuckle.

“He knows where to hit you where it hurts,” she laughed, while nodding in agreement. “How did he convince you?”

“Coincidently, he also took a low blow involving my ex. I believe his words were ‘You wrote an entire album about her and haven’t dated anyone since and it makes you look kind of pathetic.’” He dramatically used air quotes and did his best impression of Jeff’s American accent. She couldn’t hold back the giggles that erupted from her.

“Oh my goodness,” she let out through slightly buzzed giggles, “you definitely win.”

From that point, their conversation began to flow more easily, easing her anxiety as she learned he was generally easy to talk to. He laughed at her jokes, and she laughed at his. He really did have the calming and disarming quality that people always said he had, like could melt down any walls and convince you to be honest with him, even if you didn’t really want to be. She was shocked to find that she wanted him to genuinely be a friend to her so badly. He was just so nice and such a good listener.

Their conversation took a turn when Harry’s super power of knowing when his picture was being taken kicked in. “Give me your hand,” he said to her, diverting from the pleasant conversation they had been having about their families. “Don’t look but there’s someone across the street taking photos of us.”

His instructions brought her back to the reality that they weren’t really friends and that all of this was for show.

She brought her hand up to meet his, strategically resting on the side of the table that faced the street, giving the camera the best view. The cool metal of his hand full of rings felt good against her skin that had been baking in the hot LA sun and he passed his thumb over her knuckles with faux affection.

She couldn’t help but feel a dishonest weight pulling on her heart. She knew everything was going to plan and this was all for the best, but it also felt slightly wrong. She played with her small heart shaped earring to distract herself from the sinking feeling.

“Harry,” she began, knowing the people across the street were out of ear shot. Her voice brought his attention from her hand back up to her eyes. “Does this feel wrong to you at all?”

“How so?”

“It just feels dishonest, like we’re lying to millions of people, our–well, mostly your fans.” She couldn’t help but correct herself.

His eyes softened at her words, like he was taking in the innocence she still held onto after only being in the industry for a short time, compared to his decade in the spotlight.

“I try not to think of it as lying,” he spoke slowly after a moment of thinking. He nodded along softly to punctuate his words. “When you think about all this as lying, it starts to weigh pretty heavy on you as a person. I try to be as honest as possible in my music and daily life, but that’s not always what people want to see. They want a show that will entertain them, and it is our job to give it to them.”

“I see,” she mused.

They sat together for another hour or so, allowing their small mimosa buzz to wear off enough for them to drive the short distances to their homes. The pair eventually found their way back to a comfortable conversation, but Harry’s comment about being in the public eye still weighed on her.

Suddenly, she wasn’t sure if all of this was worth it. Y/N was a master at dodging a question and turning the charm to 10 when it was needed, but she wasn’t a liar and she definitely wasn’t an actress. She hoped she (or Jeff) hadn’t bitten off more than she could chew with all of this.

Harry eventually walked her back to her car that was parked a few blocks away, and while she was sure he was doing it for the cameras, she didn’t doubt that he would have done it even if they weren’t there. He just seemed like that kind of guy to her; caring and trustworthy.

“Thank you for a very nice date, Harry,” she said, winking and chuckling along with the extra emphasis she put on the last word.

“My pleasure,” he smiled down at her. He moved along with her as she walked to the driver's side door, opening it for her like a perfect gentleman. The two stood close, his body hovering over her’s as they stood inside the open door. Her heart rose to her throat as he leaned down to her and pressed a gentle kiss to her burning cheek.

Y/N looked back up at him with rosy cheeks and a tightlipped bashful smile. She watched as he walked backward carefully, taking her hand that had been locked with his until he was too far and let it fall back to her body.

She situated herself in her drivers seat and was ready to leave when she heard a knocking on the passenger side window that startled her. Harry had bent himself over and was motioning for her to roll the window down. When she did, he leaned himself in, an honest look in his eyes.

“Before you go,” he said gently. “A word of advice from someone who had been in the public eye for a long time,” he spoke with a tender yet serious tone, eyes locking with hers. “When you go home today, don’t go on social media. People are mean, and it’s just going to hurt.” She nodded along with his words and watched as he pinched his bottom lip. “And when you inevitably can’t resist, text me if you need to talk about it.”

***

They must have done a good job putting on their show because within an hour of her returning home to her apartment, they were all anyone was talking about. Their names were trending worldwide #1 on Twitter. Streams of Y/N’s debut album were up by 800%, and even Harry’s streams had taken a considerable jump. Y/N had gained 40,ooo new followers and views on every interview she had ever done were steadily rising.

All was going according to Jeff’s plan.

Harry’s words circled her brain for hours. “Don’t go on social media,” she heard him say over and over again as she paced her apartment, only stopping to look at the phone sitting on the kitchen counter every so often.

She had taken a shower, done her hair, tried to watch TV, cooked herself dinner, and even tried to sit down and write a song; it all got her nowhere fast. The unknown was eating at her inside.

Y/N broke when she heard the small ding signaling she had gotten a text message. She had all but sprinted to see who it was, reunited with the outside world through her touch screen. Unsurprisingly, it was from Jeff; the message sent to her and an unknown number she assumed to be Harry’s.

Good job, kiddos., was all it read but there was a photo attached to the message. Her heart stopped while she waited for the photo to load, cursing her slow wifi in the process. After a few breathless moments, the photo came through.

It was a screenshot from the website of one of the biggest entertainment magazines in the country. A picture of him kissing her cheek was the front page of the website.

Harry Styles and Y/N Y/L/N Rumored To Be Music’s New Power Couple Ahead of Tour

She was honestly speechless. This was huge.

She would like to say the sheer shock blurred her judgement, but the curiosity just got the better of her. Harry’s words repeated over and over again in her head, telling her not to, even as her finger connected with the icon of the little blue bird.

She was the most talked about topic in the entire world, her name hovering in bold letters on the trending page. She did everything she could to not click on her name, but her fingers did it all on her own.

The first few tweets were nice. Someone said they liked her style and that they looked cute together as a couple. Another said that they had always enjoyed her music and that they were happy for them.

But as she scrolled, it became harsher and just mean. People commented on her weight, said she couldn’t sing, and criticized her personality as seeming fake and forced. Her eyes were locked on the screen, unable to look away, as her heart began to break and few tears began to roll.

It took one final, and the most painful, tweet for her to consider deleting her account completely. She swiped out of the app fast, but the words were still burned into her brain.

Y/N is using Harry, just like she used James before he got rid of her and found someone better.

The words knocked the wind out of her, pouring salt on an open wound that had yet to heal.

She also had the little blue bird for that heartbreak as well. When she opened the app two months ago, the first thing she saw was pictures of her (former) fiance, James, with his tongue down some girl’s throat. At the time she had been devastated, her heart broken beyond repair.

It felt like no one else in the world could understand the way she was feeling. If she was in this position because of another person, they must get it too. The text to Harry was already sent before she had time to think it over.

I looked and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry that I didn’t listen.

His response came only seconds later.

Don’t be sorry. It’s hard not to. Are you alright?

She had to think about his question, unsure if she knew the answer. Tears were still running down her face and she felt like she was a target the entire world had decided it was open season on. Logically, she knew these people never thought she would see these awful things, but it didn’t excuse the hurt she felt when she did.

I don’t know. I just don’t understand how people can be so cruel.

She felt like she was bothering him, even though he had offered to be there for her. He wasn’t her best friend, or a close confidant; he was her fake publicity boyfriend. He had real friends he wanted to talk to or maybe even a real girlfriend underwraps somewhere. Her body was wracked with guilt as she thought it over.

People are just mean on the internet, okay? They think they can say whatever they want without repercussions. I’m so sorry that you are being targeted because of me.

Before she got a chance to think through a proper response to him, her phone dinged with another text. It was from Jeff again.

Really good job, kiddos.

Y/N was confused. They hadn’t done anything else but be seen together today. Her sick sense of curiosity got her again before she opened Twitter again and looked up Harry’s name. He had tweeted for the first time in six months only a few moments ago.

@Harry_Styles: We treat people with kindness.

***

The next time she saw him was two days later at yet another public meet up Jeff had arranged for them. Unfortunately this time, she had become just as famous as Harry seemingly overnight, the flames of her new found fame growing even larger after he had sent that tweet.

While the fame had grown, the hate had calmed since his statement, which most had taken as an official declaration of their relationship. Now, that was not to Jeff’s plans.

She had to fight her way out of her apartment complex, wearing a pair of massive dark sunglasses with circular lenses and shielding her face with her hands the best she could. But she did have to admit that the electric orange fabric of her jumpsuit probably didn’t do much to help her blend in and avoid the attention of the paparazzi that had now found out where she lived.

Harry was sitting at the table by himself facing the back of the cafe when she arrived, two cups of coffee waiting before him to be drank together placed delicately on the table. He had his head down, buried in a book, before she startled him with a hug from behind. Her cheek connected with his warm neck where she buried her head into him and she took in his dizzying cologne.

She felt him jump beneath her as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pressing a dramatic and cheesy kiss to his cheek, feeling his light stubble prick her chapsticked lips. “My hero,” she joked, trying to bring at least a little humor to the man who had just about jumped out of his skin at her touch.

It felt like she was crossing a boundary, and she was pretty sure she was, but she just needed to thank him and a hug felt like the best way to do that while in a semi-crowded coffee shop. Also, playing up that they were madly in love didn’t hurt.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed, a hand flying over his chest in surprise to feel his racing heartbeat. “You scared the shit out of me.” Once he settled for a moment, his arm moved across his chest to rest on her arm. His touch was gentle and soft, holding her there gently like he didn’t want her to release him from her grasp. She tried not to think about it too much as she slipped her arms off of him, making her way to the seat that was clearly meant for her across from him.

“I’m sorry that I scared you. A little jumpy today?” she teasingly questioned.

“Hey, watch it,” he playfully threatened. “I believe you called me your hero about thirty seconds ago.”

“I guess I did,” she quipped over the mug she was bringing to her lips. It was sweet but not too sweet, with cream but not too much, and still piping hot; just the way she liked it. “I don’t think it’s too far off,” she smiled before turning back to the coffee. “Good coffee,” she mused. “Just the way I like it.”

“Good. I texted Jeff for your order,” he informed her, the gesture being so thoughtful and sweet she could have melted into a puddle right there and then. “And I think ‘hero’ might be a bit much,” he tacked on.

“Don’t be humble, Harry.” While her voice was still light and held a jesting tone, she meant her words. “You made the entire internet leave me alone, for the most part,” she clarified as there were definitely some nasty messages still floating around Twitter, “in five words.”

“It was the least I could do,” he said while shaking his head slightly, seeming to deflect her words.

“You could have done absolutely nothing.” She reached across the table and grabbed his hand in hers like they had staged at the cafe a few days earlier; but this time, it was an honest gesture, not one for a role they were both meant to be playing. Her words were serious, punctuating each with a gentle nod of her head. “I mean it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” His eyes held the same truthfulness and honesty she hoped she was mirroring in her own. “I know all of this,” he paused and gestured between them with his free hand, “is for publicity, but I consider you a friend. It was hard to watch it all go down like that. You’re a good person and you didn’t deserve all that. I had to do something.”

There was a warmth that flooded her chest. He called me his friend, she thought to herself, fighting back a big toothy grin. She had been under the impression that all of this was just work for him, something he was doing just to drum up publicity, with no personal connections at all. But him calling her a friend meant so much to her. It meant she was not alone in all this terrifying and overwhelming attention.

“I’m glad you think of me as a friend,” she said, still holding back her smile. “You’re my friend too.” He matched her close-lipped smile that had fought its way onto her face at her words.

They sat in silence together for a few moments. Harry returned to his book and Y/N answered emails; but their hands stayed connected across the small table. This silence was very different from the silence on the day they first met. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence that sat on your tongue, begging you to break the quiet; it was peaceful and safe.

Their silence was broken when a young woman wearing a jittery smile and nervous eyes approached their table. Her voice squeaked out a mouse-like “Hi,” towards the both of them, bringing their eyes up to meet hers and instinctively breaking their hands away from each other.

“I’m so so sorry to be a bother,” she began, cheeks red and hot. “But I’m a really big fan of both of you and I would never forgive myself if I didn’t say hello.” She rambled excitedly, mostly looking at Harry, as she held her slightly shaky hands up to her chest.

“Hello,” Harry said with one of his million dollar smiles. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Emma,” she breathed.

“Well, it’s so nice to meet you Emma.” He spoke gently with her, clearly sensing her anxiety, extending his hand for her to shake. “Thank you for all of your support.”

Y/N watched closely as he spoke with her. He spoke to her like she was the only person in the room, giving her his whole undivided attention, and repeatedly thanking her as she flooded him with compliments about how his music and message of kindness meant so much to her. She was so entranced that she nearly didn’t hear her own name being said as the girl turned towards her.

“I love your music as well,” she grinned, clearly more comfortable after her short conversation with Harry. “And your jumpsuit is just incredible.” Her nervous giggle was contagious, Y/N releasing one as well at the compliment as her cheeks heated slightly. She was shocked she even knew any of her music, clearly being the less popular of the pair.

“Thank you so much, Emma. It means a lot.”

Emma took a few quick selfies with the both of them (that would be everywhere within a few hours), said goodbye and went to leave the two, but not before she paid them one last compliment. “You two are really cute together. I’m rooting for you.”

Both of their cheeks warmed as they looked back at each other. They were quiet for a moment, unsure how to respond, before Harry turned his attention back to the girl with a coy smile. “I am too,” was all he said.

***

The next three weeks passed in a blur of tour rehearsals, fittings, and public meetings with Harry. And then all of a sudden, it was the night of the first show.

Y/N had never been so nervous in her entire life. She would be the first face seen by just over 19,000 people, tasked to warm up the crowd and prepare them for Harry, which was enough pressure. And then there was the chance that they all hated her guts.

She stood behind the curtain, listening to the loud and inpatient crowd as she paced back and forth. She white-knuckeld her guitar, trying to keep her violently shaking hands from being too visible to the crew around her. Her stomach swirled and her palms were clammy, constantly having to rub them on the pants of her icey blue jumpsuit. It fit her like a glove, the wide legged pants and slight shoulder pads, creating a perfect hourglass silhouette; the only thing she was confident in at the moment was how good she looked in it.

Her heart leapt out of her chest and she almost hit the ceiling when a small voice appeared over her shoulder, whispering “You’re going to do great,” in her ear. If her heart wasn’t about to give out before, it was now. She swung around to face him, almost hitting Harry with her guitar, letting out a small breath of relief when her eyes met his own. They always seemed to calm her down a bit.

“I’m kinda freaking out, H,” she anxiously babbled, using the nickname he had told her to call him. “This is the biggest crowd I’ve ever played in front of, and they probably all hate me because they think I’m dating you, and I have to make sure I do a good job so they start listening to my music; and I just…” she trailed off for a second, uncomfortably scratching the back of her neck, “I just can’t let you down.”

His face softened at her words, seeming to take pity on her. “Y/N,” he began, resting his hands on her shoulders and looking so deep into her eyes she felt like he could probably see her soul. “We picked you to open because people love your music and the way that you perform. You just have to go out there and do what you do best: sing your heart out and put on a good show. It’s only 25 minutes. I know you can do it.”

Every word that left his lips was laced with honesty and encouragement; just enough for Y/N to relax her furrowed brow and give her lip a break from her constant chewing. “I can do it,” she softly repeated back to him, still not breaking contact with his striking green eyes.

A stage manager passed by them, running to some other important task, but not before tapping her shoulder. “You’re on in 30 seconds,” he spoke, just as she heard the roar of the crowd begin, signalling the dimming of the lights in the arena.

“Go kick some ass,” he winked, stepping backwards from her and releasing her from his grasp. “I’ll be watching.”

Walking on stage, she wasn’t met with ‘boo’s that had plagued her nightmares, or mean looks from the audience, or rotten tomatoes thrown from the crowd.

They were screaming in excitement, screaming for her.

From the second she started playing, the crowd had her back; the ones that knew the words to her songs sang them along with her, and the ones that didn’t, happily danced to her voice. Before long, the smile she had forced onto her face was genuine, and her set passed by with ease. When her 25 minutes were up, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to get off the stage.

She took her final bow as the crowd roared, running off of the stage into the wings, looking for one person in particular. And when she found him, she threw herself into Harry’s open and waiting arms. “I told you that you were going to do great!” He spoke excitedly into her ear and he held her close to his body, his arms wrapped around her waist tight.

She liked the way it felt to be in his arms.

Pulling away from him, she saw the massive grin that he wore for her, noting how adorable his dimples were and how the excited look in his eyes made him look like a little kid. But there was more to his face than excitement, he looked proud.

“They were so nice to me, and they knew my songs, and they were screaming so loud for me, and it just went so well. I can’t believe it!” Her previous anxious chatter had become an exhilarated rambling and she felt on top of the world.

“I can,” he grinned, looking down at his watch quickly. “I have to go get changed.” If she wasn’t so amped up, she might have noticed the disappointment that flashed over his features. “Promise me you’ll watch the show?”

“Pinky swear?” She stuck up her little finger in the air.

“Pinky swear.” He kept their pinkies locked for a moment too long, then released her hand and ran backstage to get dressed.

She kept her promise and watched with excitement as the building shook when Harry took the stage.

She had never heard something quite so loud, sure her ears would be ringing when she snuggled into her bunk on the tour bus that night. Watching him perform was mesmerizing; he knew how to work a stage in every way and make every person in the arena feel like he was singing just for them. He was larger than life while performing and his little dances and mannerisms only got more pronounced the more comfortable he got on stage. He messed with Mitch, who she had only met a few hours ago (he was very nice), and constantly praised Sarah on the drums behind him, while he looked over to Adam and sent him smiles often.

Everyone in the building came for a show, and boy, did he give them one. It was amazing to watch. There was a reason she was a fan.

Bouncing off the stage, full of adrenaline and in a post-show high, he came to find her. It wasn’t hard, as she had never left her spot on the side of the stage, unable to rip her eyes away from the man before her.

“Oh my god, Harry! That was incredible!” she said with delighted amazement.

“I’m glad you liked it.” He was smiling down at her with a big toothy grin, a hand running through his sweaty hair and pushing it off his forehead. “They only get better from here.”

***

He was telling the truth. The shows only got crazier and more exciting as the tour went on, and so did their “relationship.”

About five shows in, Jeff had Harry given her his “H” ring to start wearing. Harry didn’t seem too phased by it all even though she thought it might be too much, saying “it’s like a friendship bracelet.” But it was too big for her fingers, not because she had small hands, but because Harry’s were absolutely massive. She wore it on a chain around her neck from then on and made sure to always be seen playing with it.

Fans took notice and loved it.

A little after that, Jeff sent them off to get matching manicures. Both had a melting rainbow of oranges, pinks, and browns on their fingertips, which looked amazing in the paparazzi photos of them walking around with their fingers intertwined.

The fans loved that too.

But when she “accidentally” posted a photo of Harry on her story, the entire world lost it’s shit. In the photo, he laid sprawled across a bed in only a white hotel robe that was creeping dangerously high up his thigh. He looked sleepy and slightly sweaty, in a post-fuck haze, and clothes that looked very similar to ones she had been seen wearing in public only days before were strewn across the floor. The caption read “I love getting to love you.”

The photo had strategically only been up for about 30 seconds, but by the time it was deleted thousands of people had seen it and screenshots had been taken. They quickly circulated the internet, creating a bit of scandal. But more than anything, people began to love the two of them together even more. Harry looked genuinely happy in the photo, and for most of his fans, that was all that mattered.

They were creating a fairytale love story for an audience, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t enjoying her role. She quite liked being his “girlfriend.”

Harry and Y/N had a way of clicking as they grew closer–quite literally as they were crammed together on a tour bus most of the time. They seemed to be able to finish each other’s sentences and always beat the other to the punchline of a joke. The pair had begun to pick up on the other’s mannerisms and habits; Y/N always teasing that Harry was going to rub his nose off one day if he kept rubbing it while he was thinking and Harry always knowing when she got enough sleep by whether or not she had put on eyeliner that morning. They swapped playlists back and forth in their bunks as they tried to doze off and always grabbed a cup of coffee for whoever had decided to sleep in the next day, now knowing the other’s order by heart.

There was only one thing she didn’t know about him that she longed to discover: what his lips felt like against her own. She could never think too hard about it though, or she may just explode.

He had become a calming presence and was currently helping her keep her cool, even though she knew the pair of interviewers across the table were getting ready to grill the pair for every detail they could get. His hand had settled on top of her knee to quell it’s nervous bouncing, but remained after she had stopped, even though no one could see his touch under the table. She watched as his thumb ran itself back and forth along the leg of her flashy orange and yellow patterned overalls and she had a hard time pulling her gaze away when the radio host across the large table began to speak.

“So Harry,” the bald man began. “Fine Line has been one of the biggest albums of the year and I just have to say I love it. It’s truly incredible.” She listened as the man continued on to sing Harry’s praises, going on to list his grammy nominations, sold out world tour, and other accolades. She couldn’t help but smile as she watched his cheeks tinge pink with the praise. She knew anyone watching would pick up on her adoring look and people fawn over it, but she knew her gaze was nothing but truthful.

“Thank you very much,” he said shyly, shaking his head slightly as he spoke into the microphone suspended in front of his face. “You’re too kind.”

“Stop being humble,” she teased him, playfully tapping him on the arm. “All of his music is fantastic,” she said turning her attention back to the man across from them, “especially Fine Line.”

“And there’s Y/N, being the supportive girlfriend,” the man chuckled.

“I support him in everything he does,” she smiled back, not having to embellish the truth at all. “He is an amazing talent and I think Fine Line shows that.”

It wasn’t hard for her to gush about him. It was actually quite easy. She absolutely adored him, as an artist, a friend, and the focus of her affection. She felt an equal warmth in her cheeks as she watched his get even pinker with her compliments.

“That’s actually something we wanted to ask you about,” the blonde woman sitting next to him piped up, a mischievous glint in her eyes that sent nervous butterflies flying around Y/N’s stomach. “One of the songs on Fine Line, Cherry to be specific, actually features the voice of Harry’s ex, Camille. How does that make you feel as his new girl?”

Y/N did her best not to gag at the woman’s question, gritting her teeth as she plastered on a polite smile. “Well, I think Cherry is a really great song and her voice at the end adds a lot,” she spoke as smoothly as she could, refusing to let on that the question rattled her. Harry’s light squeeze on her knee signalled to her that she had answered the question well.

“It’s also been three years since the song was written,” Harry cut in. “Things are obviously a lot different now.” He connected their eyes for a second while he was leaning back into his seat, sending her a short smile, but she knew him well enough to know it was genuine.

“Oh, definitely,” the woman eagerly agreed. “You’re in a great new relationship with a beautiful girl on your arm.”

“Y/N,” he emphasized her name as the woman had referred to her as a possession of his for a second time, “and I are very happy. Thank you.” To an onlooker, he was calm. To her, he was visibly uncomfortable by her words.

Y/N began to notice a clear pattern as the interview went on. Harry was asked exclusively about his music and the tour, while Y/N only became relevant to their interviewers when they wanted to mention their relationship.

When the man asked Y/N if she felt uncomfortable playing to Harry’s mainly female fanbase every night that are “so obviously jealous of her,” something snapped inside of her, sending all her hours of media training out the window. “I’m not uncomfortable at all,” she said curtly. “His music is great and he puts on an awesome show. I don’t think the audience’s gender really has anything to do with the music.” She watched the man’s face fall before she decided to go on. “And I would like to think that at least a few of them are there for me too. You do know I make music too, right?”

An indignant smirk found its way to her lips as the man stammered out, “yes, of course.”

“Okay. I was just wondering since you have only asked me questions about our relationship since we got here.”

She knew Jeff wouldn’t be happy, but at the moment, she couldn’t care less. They may not have really been dating, but the interviewers didn’t know that. All of their dismissal of her and her career was 100% real.

She had been so worked up that she didn’t even realize Harry’s hand had left her knee until it found its way to rest on her back. She leaned into his touch as he rubbed her back softly while she crossed her arms in front of her.

The interviewers looked at the two of them across the table, jaws both lying on the floor. It was quiet until Harry nonchalantly spoke. “She has a point.”

The last few minutes of the interview passed in an awkward blur that felt suffocating. She felt like she could finally take in a deep breath once they were in the back of a massive SUV being driven away from the studio.

“Jeff is going to have my head,” she mumbled under her breath, nose stuck into her phone as she scrolled Twitter to see what people were saying about her outburst. But before she could read any opinions, Harry's tattooed arm blocked her view as he gently pushed her phone down onto her lap.

“Look at me,” he murmured, beckoning her attention to the other side of the back seat. When she connected her eyes with his, his usual calming aura took over her, softening the stressed crease between her brows. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Harry, I just blew my career up into smoke because I couldn’t deal with a rude interviewer,” she huffed at him.

“No,” he disagreed softly, moving the hand that rested on her arms to interlock his fingers with one of hers. “You stuck up for yourself to people who were ignoring your work and whittling you down to your relationship.”

“But it was rude.”

“It was necessary.”

The car ride to the venue for that night’s concert was quiet, but Harry never let go of her hand, brushing his thumb over her knuckles in a comforting touch. She wasn’t sure if she ever wanted him to let go.

***

It was the early hours of the morning by the time the pair returned to their tour bus and went to crawl into their bunks.

Her performance had gone well and Harry was mesmerizing (as always). He was truly hypnotizing to watch while he performed and she hadn’t missed watching him yet, even as they drew close to the end of the tour. It was the best part of her day and she would miss it dearly after the last show.

She was almost asleep, curtain drawn and cuddled under a pile of blankets, when her cell began to ring. Her heart sank, knowing only one person who would know when she had a sliver of free time (even though it’s debatable if sleeping counts as free time). She was going to get scolded like she was a little kid in the principal's office and she knew it.

“Hi Jeff,” she answered with a sigh as she pulled the curtain back and slid from the bunk, the cold air of the tour bus nipping at her legs.

Her gaze was met by a snuggled up Harry wearing a concerned face across from her in his own bed. He never closed the curtain, not even when she asked politely to muffle his snores, always saying something about how it made him claustrophobic. He sent her a tired smile and mouthed “good luck,” extending a hand for a fist bump as she passed. Knocking their knuckles together put a brief smile on her face before she buckled in for the chewing out she was about to get.

Harry watched her intently as she paced up and down the front of the tour bus as she spoke to Jeff, too far away for him to listen in. Her face gradually turned from anxious, to surprised, to something that would have probably been happiness if she wasn’t so tired.

“Alright, thank you for everything.” She spoke softly when she finally returned to be within earshot for him. “Goodnight Jeff.”

“So?” he murmured groggily at her, brows raised in question at her.

“People loved it,” she said shocked, like she didn’t fully believe it herself. “They think I’m some kind of badass for shutting down a sexist. Which is, like, a lot,” she spoke with a disbelieving chuckle, unable to find the right words in her groggy state. “I don’t really know what to make of it.”

Harry seemed to spring up from his spot in his bed, smacking his head on the top of the bunk in the process, prompting them both to dissolve into a puddle of giggles.

“Don’t get too excited for me,” she laughed. “I cannot be the reason that you hurt yourself and have to cancel a show.”

“I was just too excited to say ‘I told you so,’” he smirked, now rubbing the side of his head through his curls.

“Cocky bastard,” she sarcastically murmured under her breath while dramatically rolling her eyes.

She watched with confusion as Harry left his bed, and after a short and frantic search for his pajama pants so he wouldn’t “offend her eyes,” he moved towards the front of the bus. Her eyes trailed him as he bent down to the small mini fridge and pulled out two beers.

“We have to celebrate.”

It was 2 AM and she had been so ready for bed after a long day. But she knew she could never say no to him. She thanked god that they had a day off tomorrow.

After retrieving her massive and lovingly worn Grateful Dead sweatshirt to protect her from the chilly air, she nearly ran to the front of the bus. His painted pink fingers moved with skill as he popped the bottle caps off with one of his rings, handing it to her and gently nudging his bottle against hers.

“Cheers,” he murmured softly as he looked down at her with a kindhearted smile.

“Cheers,” she seemed to whisper back to him, a flutter in her stomach reminding her how badly she wanted to reach out and connect her lips to his. Instead she slid into the small booth across from him, taking a long sip from the bottle as she watched him do the same.

“I want you to know that I was really proud of you today,” he said as he put his beer down on the table. “Rude interviewers are never easy and you handled it like a champ.”

“Thank you, H,” she nodded, suddenly bashful and unable to make eye contact with him. Her cheeks burned hot as she put all her focus into tracing the rim of the bottle with her finger tip.

“Hey,” he called for her attention and her eyes snapped up to meet his. “I mean it, Y/N.”

“I know you do,” she gently nodded at him. “I’m just really happy they didn’t ask about my ex,” she chuckled as she took another sip. “That would have gone very poorly.”

“Oh yeah, I was a little annoyed they brought up my ex but not yours,” he teased. “Not fair if you ask me.”

“Well, then I’m glad no one asked you.”

“Can I ask you?”

“What?”

“About your ex.”

She should have been prepared to talk about it with Harry at some point. Half of this plan had been devised to get back at James anyway. She should be able to talk about it by now, especially with someone she had grown so close to.

“I guess so,” she shrugged, trying to seem casual like the mere mention of him didn’t still hurt her heart a little bit. “What do you want to know?”

“As much as you’re willing to tell me.”

He looked soft like this, eyes slightly sleepy with a tenderness in them as he looked back at her. His hair was unruly and puffy and he was wrapped in the powder blue blanket that lived on the tour bus’ couch. She would have told him anything that he ever wanted to hear if he kept looking like this.

With a deep breath, she began to recount everything that went down.

“I met James while I was still working as a waitress. I recognized him from his movies and started a conversation, and then–to my surprise–he asked me out on a date. I had been in LA for three weeks and this insanely famous actor is asking me to go out with him, so I obviously said yes.” She paused to take a swig of her beer, before mumbling under her breath, “I should have said ‘fuck no’ to that.”

A smile ghosted over her lips as she listened to Harry’s laugh across the table. She swore that laugh could cure cancer.

“But I didn’t,” she continued. “He introduced me to the right people and helped me make the right connections in the industry, which I guess made me feel indebted to him. Does that make sense?”

“Of course,” Harry nodded, eyebrows furrowed and listening intently.

“I should have broken up with him after I signed with Jeff and the label, however awful that sounds. But he just always knew the right things to say to make me feel special and like I was the most important person in the world. Even after I found out he was talking to other girls, he was somehow able to talk himself out of it.” She shook her head as she recalled it. “You wanna hear something fucked up?”

“Always,” he said with a gentle smirk.

“He proposed to me using lines from a romcom he was working on.”

Harry nearly spit out his drink. “Holy shit, you’re kidding!”

“I wish. I didn’t find out until I went with him to the premier a few months later and the proposal scene sounded surprisingly familiar.”

“What a dirtbag.”

“I know, right?” she laughed. “Then a few weeks after that, he got papped with his tongue down another girl’s throat. That finally knocked some sense into me and I ran for the hills.”

“Fuck,” he sighed as he finished his beer. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she breathed. “I don’t even feel hurt by him anymore, ya know? I just feel angry at myself for trusting him.”

“I understand but it’s not your fault he was a piece of shit,” he said as he rose from his seat and traveled to the mini fridge once again. “Another?” he asked, holding the bottle up about his head.

“Fuck it,” she shrugged. “Sure.”

She watched him skillfully pop off the tops again using just his rings, making a mental note to make him teach her how he did that, before he flopped back down in his seat.

“At the risk of sounding like a Facebook mom, ‘you grow through what you go through,’” she chuckled, taking another long sip as she finished her first. He matched her high pitched giggle across the table and she nearly drooled beer down her front from smiling so wide.

“Amen, sister,” he agreed, raising his beer in the air.

“Oh, that was awful.” She shook her head as she descended into giggles. “Please never say that again.”

“Noted.”

“Anyway,” she began again after another sip of her drink, “I was well prepared to get my heartbroken by untrustworthy men after you, Styles.”

“I’m offended–tell me more,” he spoke quickly, his signature narcissistic smirk settling onto his features.

“I need you to know that Zayn leaving was my first real heartbreak.”

“Were the rest of us chopped liver?”

“You weren’t Zayn, I can tell you that.”

“Ouch!” He let out a loud belly laugh.

“Put yourself in my shoes for a minute, H. So first, the hottest-”

“Rude-”

“-I’m speaking. So the hottest one leaves, and then the rest of you are all like ‘we’ll be back in 18 months,’” she mocked him in a high pitched impersonation with a wave, “and then 6 months later you all mysteriously have solo careers.”

“I do not see you complaining about my solo career now, ya fame leetch.” He spoke with such humor and charisma, she couldn’t have even wished to be offended by his joke.

“Absolutely not, sir,” she said sternly, giving him a dramatic salute. “Deepest apologies from the fame leetch.” The two collapsed into giggles, laughing until their sides began to ache.

“Wait, I have a question for mega superstar Mr. Harry Styles of former One Direction fame,” she announced.

“I believe that’s me,” he bowed his head and raised his hand into the hair. “Shoot.”

She barely could get the question out, laughing too hard at her own joke. “Is Taylor Swift a good kisser?”

“Oh god,” he exasperatedly threw his hands in the air, chuckling while rolling his eyes dramatically before grinning wide as he thought over his answer. “I don’t kiss and tell,” he finally smirked.

“Wait, I have another!”

“Watch it, smart ass.”

“You think I’m smart?” she teased as she feigned flattery. “Have you ever heard of a song called ‘English Love Affair?’” He narrowed his eyes at her, a knowing smirk crossing his lips as he shook his head at her. “Also, when do I get to meet Gemma?”

“I’ll consider it when you stop bringing up her sex life, perv.”

“We’ve been dating for a few months now,” she teased as she continued to prod, emboldened by the liquid courage running through her veins as she was now half way through her next beer. “I think I should be allowed to meet the family soon. They seem delightful.”

“They would love how you have decided to rip into me like this,” he said with a cheeky smile, dimples on full display.

“Rockstars have to get knocked down a peg every once in a while.” She sarcastically shrugged. “Consider it a favor.”

She couldn’t help but think about how right this felt. Their back and forth flowed so smoothly, the banter falling from their lips without effort. Their laughter joined together in a delightful melody and she imagined they could go on this way all night.

Spending any amount of time with him made her so fucking happy; and time spent teasing each other over beers caused her to nearly explode with joy. How much she was enjoying herself was too hard to put into words.

He was safe and he was kind and he made her laugh no matter how bad his jokes were.

He was her best friend.

And for the first time, she was willing to admit that she was in love with him.

“Harry,” she hummed softly as their laughter died down to a comfortable silence. “Thank you for everything. You’ve changed my life forever and I can never repay you.”

“Just remember me when you get famous.”

“Oh shut up, I’m being serious,” she playfully scolded before letting her tone drop back into honesty. “You’re a very good person and I’m eternally grateful for you letting me be your opening act and then agreeing to this whole relationship charade.”

“I didn’t ‘let’ you be anything, Y/N. I picked you myself.”

Her brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I listened to your album when it came out and fell in love with it,” he shrugged, his casual tone contradicting the surprised raise of her pulse. “When I found out Jeff also managed you, I knew I had to have you on the tour.”

Y/N was honestly stunned. She had always assumed that the tour was Jeff’s doing, a careful arrangement pairing Full Stop’s new up-and-comer with their most famous and established talent. Being offered the tour had been the biggest opportunity and honor she had ever been presented with; but she had never considered Harry himself being behind it.

“Oh,” was all she could manage to get out.

It was now his turn to be confused. “What’s so surprising about that?” he asked, reading the shock on her face like she was an open book.

“I just,” she stammered, trying to find the words in her slightly hazy state. “I never would have thought you knew who I was or listened to my music.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” she trailed off. “You’re you, and I’m just... me, I guess.”

He didn’t respond right away, just looking at her intently and slightly amused, sea glass eyes boring into her with a pink lip held between his teeth.

He scanned her frame, from the way her hair sat messily on top of her head and the way the massive sweatshirt swallowed her body enough to where she had pulled her knees up to her chest underneath it. Her shoulders were slumped slightly, making her appear smaller as she held her legs close to her torso and her eyebrows were knitted together in worry, slightly nervous under his intense gaze.

She downed the rest of her beer in an attempt to forget his intense attention. It didn’t work.

“You really don’t know how incredible you are, do you?” he finally asked, the corner of his lips twitching into a small smile.

She felt her whole body burn with his compliment, wanting to shrink into herself and disappear completely from his view. She finally shook her head slightly in an attempt to deflect his words, breathing his name under her breath as if to scold him for being too kind.

“You are,” he insisted, ignoring her objection. “You’re so talented and your music deserves all the attention that it gets. I am honored that I get to play a part in helping expose the world to you and what you have to offer.”

“Thank you.” Her words came out as a whisper.

“You’re welcome, love.”

His pet name made her stomach turn in a nervous excitement and a wide grin involuntarily came to her lips.

“I like it when I make you smile like that.” His words only made her beam further. “You look very pretty when you smile.”

“Stop it,” she said softly, cheeks burning hot and having a hard time making eye contact with him.

“Stop what?” He feigned innocence as he lightly teased her, smirk still prominent on his features.

“Are you flirting with me, Styles?”

“Just practicing.”

His words rang through her mind long after they had left the table and crawled back into their bunks for the night. She wished she could see inside his head to understand whatever thoughts were running around his brain.

But for now she could just peak at him through the gap she had purposely left in her curtain, wondering if she ever popped into his dreams as he slept.

He was always in hers.

***

There was a sadness mixed in with her usually thrilled mood as she took the stage for the last show of the tour. While there was an element of relief as she looked forward to some well needed rest, the adrenaline and joy of being in front of a crowd was something that she would miss dearly. She had grown into a real performer over the last two months as they zig-zagged across the US and this period of time would have a special place in her heart long after it had ended.

But there was another reason why she was so sad to see this chapter come to an end. As far as she knew, a staged breakup was not far away and the thought of being without Harry was heartbreaking. He had become her person and soon their feux falling out would be on the front page of every magazine. She wanted nothing more in the world than for their relationship to be real, but it would be forced to end before it had even truely started.

She got choked up as she sang her final song that night, letting a few tears escape as she took in the thousands of people singing her lyrics back to her, flashlights swaying in the air to the beat of the music. Taking a move from Harry’s own playbook, she took her mic and directed it to the crowd to sing as she cried. The vibrations of the drums and bass behind her nestled it’s way into her bones and the chorus of singing voices in the crowd surrounded her in a bittersweet melody.

The past two months she had been on top of the world, and as soon as this song finished, it was the beginning of the end.

She took her final bow, watching as the small tears fell forward onto the dusty stage below her. She waved and blew kisses to the crowd, then nearly ran off the stage looking for the only person she wanted to see.

Harry was right where he always was, just out of view behind the curtain, holding his arms out for her to fall into.

“Awe, babe,” he hummed sympathetically when she settled her head onto his chest, surely ruining his crisp white t-shirt with her now wet makeup. “It’s okay. Final shows are always tough.” He rubbed her back gently, in a soothing rhythm.

He smelled so good. He smelled like home.

She tilted her head up to connect her glassy eyes with his. “I just don’t want this all to end.” She knew she wasn’t just talking about the tour.

“Neither do I,” he said as his lips curved into a devilish smirk that sent her heart into palpitations. “That’s why I have one last surprise for you.”

“Oh, Harry,” she sighed while wiping the remaining tears off her cheeks. “What have you done?”

“You said you liked surprises!” he defended.

“Not surprises in front of 20,000 people!”

“I promise you’re going to love this one, okay?” His voice was softer now, encouraging and supportive. “You’re going to come out and sing an extra song with me during my set,” he revealed.

“Sing what?”

“That’s the surprise.”

“Do I even know the words?”

“You definitely know the words,” he chuckled.

“I just finished sobbing. I can’t go out there like this.”

“You can fix your makeup. I believe in you.”

“What am I going to wear?” she asked, grasping at straws at this point, doing anything she could to get out of this.

“I had Lambert put something together for you.”

“Of course you did.”

She peppered him with a few more questions, but he had a smooth and charming answer to every single one. He had thought every detail out, and as always, she couldn’t say no to him.

“Fine,” she finally exasperatedly agreed, immediately met with his excited and dimpled smile that she had fallen head over heels for.

“Perfect,” he breathed. “I have to go get ready and so do you. I already put everything you need in your dressing room, okay?” She nodded, still biting her lip anxiously. He held her by her shoulders, lowering his head to match their eye level as he leaned in close, before he spoke. “You’re going to have fun. I promise.”

“Pinky swear?”

“Pinky swear.”

Seconds after they locked their little fingers together, he pressed a quick and protective kiss to her forehead that set her whole body ablaze before running off in the direction of his dressing room. She remained stunned and frozen in her spot for a few moments trying to process what it felt like to have his lips on her for the first time since that very first day they had met.

There was no audience to perform it for or an act to keep up behind the curtain. He kissed her because he wanted to.

She was finally snapped out of her daze when a stagehand bumped into her by accident, prompting her to begin the short walk back to her dressing room. But the ghost of his lips remained on her forehead, an incessant tingle placed there by his touch.

The dress she found waiting for her was one of the most beautiful gowns she had ever set her eyes on. Made of a light purple chiffon, the wrap dress’ long sleeves and floor length skirt flowed freely. A belt cinched the wispy fabric close to her waist and a deep-v exposed her neck and chest. But the most dazzling part of the dress were the red sequined hearts that dotted the fabric and reflected the light of the dressing room like a million little mirrors.

Slipping into it, the light fabric was soft against her skin, opaque enough but still slightly sheer to let light through and show off her legs and the bright red shiny pumps Lambert had left for her. She felt the most beautiful she had ever felt in this dress, boosting her confidence and quelling her nerves about whatever the hell Harry was planning.

“One minute to curtain,” was announced in an ominous voice over the arena’s backstage speakers as she finished fixing her makeup and she all but ran to make it back to the stage in time. She only had one more chance to watch him perform and she refused to miss a second of it.

Harry dazzled as the lights focused in on him, his deep blue and fully sequined suit reflecting the light and turning him into a human disco ball. He stood close to the edge of the stage as the beginning notes of the first song began being played by the band, but he made no move towards his mic stand to sing. His eyes were closed and his arms were outstretched to the audience, taking in every scream, every tear, and the thunderous shake of the building; but also giving himself to them.

Then the show began. As usual, he was electric, but tonight was like he had turned himself up to eleven. Every note he sang was full of his heart and every dance move was done with his entire body, even his bad jokes seemed funnier tonight.

She was so mesmerized she almost forgot about his ‘surprise.’ Almost.

“Since tonight is unfortunately our last show,” he pouted. “I thought I would do something special,” he spoke to the crowd as they roared, but quickly connected his eyes with her’s in the wings. By the smirk plastered on his face, she knew she was in for it.

“I recently found out that someone very close to me was a very big fan of…” he trailed off as he dramatically pretended to search for the right words, “my previous work.” He finished with a smirk and his words prompted the loudest reaction since he had been on stage.

“Now, I told her that she would be coming on stage to join me tonight, but I didn’t exactly tell her what we would be singing and I haven’t performed this song in a very long time, so cut us some slack if we mess up. This is very unrehearsed.” He kept sneaking glances back to her, as her eyes grew wider at the stunt he was currently pulling. “But I know for a fact that she knows all the words. I listen to her sing them in the shower quite often.” He wore a cheeky dimpled grin as he looked back at her once again.

The building was shaking due to the suspense he was creating, and looking down at her hands, she realized she was to. She gripped hard onto the mic a stagehand had just shoved at her, pleading with her hands to stop their tremors.

“Now, I would love it if you could all give another warm welcome to one of my favorite people on the planet, Y/N Y/L/N!” He turned his body to her for a final time, extending his hand out for her to take. Her legs felt like jello as she walked out into the bright lights towards him, interlocking her fingers with his as a way to keep her on her feet.

The audience’s screams were deafening at seeing the two of them together and she thanked god she had her earpieces in to protect her ear drums or they would have surely burst. She could only imagine the articles that would be written about this and the thousands of tweets that were probably already being sent.

“I’m gonna kick your ass,” she mouthed at him threateningly, but she couldn’t even get through the sentence before his dazzling smile began to quell her anxiety.

“The look on your face is 100% worth getting my ass kicked,” he answered smoothly before turning his attention back to the audience. “Everyone, sing along if you know the words,” he commanded their attention. “This is Ready to Run.”

Her jaw dropped and the crowd roared as the band behind her began to play the first few chords of the song she loved and knew so well. She had admitted it a few days ago that it was one of her favorites of his ‘previous work,’ but apparently he already knew that from the few showers she had taken on the tour bus.

“There’s a lightning in your eyes I can’t deny,” he began by himself, her brain still too shocked to jump in yet. He sang the first few lines to her with a giant grin plastered on his face, hand still holding tight to hers. His eyes had a playful glint in them that seemed to say ‘just have fun.’

“There’s a devil in your smile, it’s chasing me,” she finally began to sing, Harry fading his voice out so she could take the next few lines by herself as he admired her.

He did have a devilish smile, but it was one she loved with her entire heart. As she began to sing, she felt her muscles begin to relax into the song she had sung to herself so many times before, letting her body begin to bounce to the growing rhythm as her dress flowed around her.

The stage vibrated as Sarah beat her drums to introduce the chorus. “This time I’m ready to run, escape from the city and follow the sun,” the pair sang together, eyes still locked as their voices combined into the most perfect tune. “Cause I wanna be yours, don’t you wanna be mine?” they continued the lyrics. She felt herself meaning the words leaving her mouth more and more as they went on. She did want to be his, she couldn’t deny that. “I don’t wanna get lost in the dark of the night.”

Her apprehensiveness eased further as the music picked up and the hook went on, finally allowing herself to have a bit of fun. “Wherever you are is the place I belong,” they insisted towards each other, leaning in close before Harry grabbed her hand to dramatically spin her, the beautiful shining fabric of her dress splaying out around her. The next line was mumbled through giggles by both of them, but their laughter only added to the perfect moment they were having.

They danced across the stage together like there weren’t 20,ooo pairs of eyes watching them, both singing their hearts out to each other. It began to feel like they weren’t even there. It was just Y/N and Harry, serenading each other to one of her favorite songs.

“There’s a future in my eyes I can’t foresee,” she sang to him to start the second verse.

“Unless, of course, I stay on course and keep you next to me.” Harry grabbed her by her waist and pulled her into his side as he sang the words, prompting more giggles from her. She loved the way he smiled so wide as he sang, never breaking his eye contact with her and emitting pure joy. His eyes looked honest as he sang, like he meant every word just as much as she did.

The pair made their way through the rest of the verse and second chorus, flawlessly moving around the stage like they owned it. Y/N selfishly decided to let him have the bridge all to himself, needing to hear the way his beautiful voice hit the high notes. “This time I’m ready to run,” he sang passionately, executing the downward moving riff perfectly. “I’d give everything that I got for your love,” he pointed across the stage towards her, beckoning her back close to him. She quickly skipped to him at his request.

Like she had blinked, the song was already nearing its end.

“Cause I wanna be free and I wanna be young, I’ll never look back now I’m ready to run,” they belted the last lines out to each other. The band fell quiet on their last chord and the crowd exploded, but their noise fell on deaf ears as the pair stood so close their heaving chests were almost pressed up against each other. His eyes stared down into hers and she watched as his eyes flickered quickly down to her lips.

The world ceased to exist when he pressed his mouth to hers, even if it only lasted a second. It was nothing more than a peck, but it was everything to her. Her body igniting with heat and eyes full of shock, she looked back at him in simultaneous confusion and adoration, before realizing they had been staring at each other for too long. She needed to get off the stage so he could continue with his show. She walked back slowly towards the wings, letting the hand he had still been holding fall to her side. She waved and smiled to the crowd the best she could in her clouded mind.

“Thank you everyone!” she shouted into her mic as she moved out of their view. She shoved her mic into the first set of hands that would take it as she wobbled her way over to a table with water bottles. She nearly choked as she tried to suck one down, hoping it would ease the dizzy feeling he had created with his lips. Her lips burned just as her forehead had earlier in the night.

He had kissed her. He had sang a love song with her and then he had kissed her. She couldn’t decipher if that kiss was a confirmation that he shared the same feelings for her or if it was just another act for the cameras. But his mouth felt so right against hers. They fit together like a pair of puzzle pieces. She tried to suppress the optimistic hope that rose in her chest, but it began to swallow her whole.

When she heard his next song begin, she made her way back to the spot that had become hers at the side of the stage. She watched him perform the rest of the show in a loving haze, doe eyed and hypnotized, lips still buzzing from his contact.

He gave it his all. By the last song he was out of breath, drenched in sweat, and looked like he was about to pass out at any second. The crowd applauded for minutes after he left the stage and they were still cheering when she finally caught sight of him again. His curls were stuck to his forehead and his skin was shiny and flushed. He was panting, still trying to recover from his workout of a finale show; but he was beaming. His smile seemed to turn him into a beacon, emitting a light and positive energy that drew everyone backstage towards him.

She was so transfixed on Harry as he thanked the crew and accepted congratulations from all around that she just about jumped out of her skin when Jeff slinked up behind her and whispered ‘boo’ in her ear.

“What the fuck, Jeff,” she chuckled as she caught her breath, resting her hand on her chest and feeling her racing heartbeat.

“I just wanted to congratulate you on being half of the best fake couple out there,” he teased. “That kiss was perfect. People are losing their minds over it.”

“Oh,” she said softly, feeling every emotion she was distracted from while watching Harry rush back into her. Her heart sank as she remembered all the questions that continued to haunt her since she got off stage. “Thanks,” she murmured, plastering a smile onto her face. “I’m glad we could make you proud.”

“If you two could convince me, you can convince anyone.” Jeff walked off moments later, leaving her to sit in her confused thoughts as he disappeared into the hoards of bodies waiting for their minute with Harry.

She knew that she didn’t ‘convince’ Jeff of anything on her part. Everything she did with Harry was authentic and truthful. Including the thrilled grin that appeared on her face when she finally made eye contact with the exhausted man across the room. She gave him a shy wave that he sheepishly returned, biting back a shy smile. He pointed in the direction of his dressing room and mouthed “meet me in 15.”

She could never say no to him.

Fifteen minutes later, she was knocking on the large wooden door that had a single piece of paper that read STYLES haphazardly taped onto it. When it finally flew open, she was met by a soaking wet Harry with a towel hanging dangerously low on his hips. Her eyes trailed down his body without permission, taking in the toned torso that was decorated with his beautiful tattoos. Her eyes hovered over the two ferns that sat on his pelvis, too fascinated with the dark ink to pull her eyes away just yet.

She had obviously seen him in various states of undress before. They lived together on a tour bus without much space to exist with privacy, but this was different. He wasn’t rushing to get dressed or quickly changing his outfit. And he wasn’t moving away from her gaze at all.

If she hadn’t been so entranced by him, she would have noticed he was looking her up and down in the exact same manner.

She had changed since she had seen him last. The skin-tight black velvet romper she had brought along for the afterparty now fit her snuggly and held her every curve. The dark fabric was tight and appeared almost painted on, a rainbow racing stripe making its way down either side of her chest. The short shorts of the outfit exposed nearly all of her legs and the deep neckline put much of her chest on display as well. It’s long sleeves were her favorite part, as a strip of fringe dangled from below her arms any time she moved.

“You look great,” Harry finally choked out, his voice pulling their eyes back up to the other’s face.

“Oh, thanks,” she said, slightly awkwardly. “You too.”

“Well, I’m hopefully not going to the after party dressed like this,” he chuckled before stepping aside and ushering her into the room.

His dressing room was much larger than hers and she settled herself on the brown leather couch in the corner as she waited for him to get ready, sneaking glances up from her phone often. She chuckled as she watched him spend far too long fussing with his curls in the mirror, but was quickly distracted by the way his back and arms flexed when he reached up to muse his hair. Once he was satisfied with the way it fell, he disappeared into the bathroom at the back of the room. When he emerged, he was finally dressed, allowing her to take a deep breath and to focus on something other than his bare skin for the first time since he had opened the door.

The black satin suit was simple for him, but the tight white tank top that sat underneath hugged every muscle in his torso. She knew as soon as he got in the hot club, he would lose the jacket, and she would be devastatingly distracted once again.

The narcissist took one final look at himself in the mirror before turning to her and extending a hand. “Ready, darling?”

“You just spent 15 minutes exclusively on your hair and you’re asking me if I’m ready?” she teased as she took his hand, weaving her fingers between his as they exited the room together.

He leaned down close to her ear as they walked down the now mostly empty hallway, lips brushing over the hollow of her ear as he spoke. “I could have done it faster, but you were so obviously enjoying the show.”

“Relax yourself, Magic Mike,” she muttered indignantly, but hung her head in a way she hoped he couldn’t see how flustered he made her. Was she really that obvious?

They walked hand in hand out to the parking garage, now caught in a back and forth about whether or not Harry could be a male stripper. He said yes. She said no, although she did admit at one point that he worked his mic stand like a pole.

“Hey Jeff,” he called when they finally reached the parking garage where Jeff and Glenne had been waiting for them to head to the club. “Do you think I could be a stripper?”

“I think people would pay a lot to see it, but they may be disappointed in your dancing skills.”

“Come on,” he playfully whined. “I have some moves.”

“You have one move,” Y/N cut in with a chuckle, “and it’s the wiggle.” She brought her hands up near her chest, tilted her head back while dramatically biting her lip, and swayed her arms by her sides, earning a chorus of laughter from the people around her.

She hadn’t even realized she had done the move without releasing Harry’s hand first, dragging his arm into her dance as well, until their manager commented on it. “You know, you two don’t have to be holding hands all the time and keeping the show up back here,” he said with a slightly suspicious quirk in his eyebrows.

Her smile had been in the process of fading, like they had been caught doing something wrong, before Harry answered smoothly. “We know. Just practicing.”

There were those words again. Just practicing, she thought over to herself. But was he practicing anymore? How many flirty comments, heartfelt compliments, and warm touches did it take to cross the line of practicing to the real thing?

She wasn’t sure about Harry, but she knew that she wasn’t just practicing anymore.

She knew that the way they sat nearly on top of each other in the large SUV on the way to the club felt more than friendly. And the way he hadn’t stopped touching her in some way since they left his dressing room insinuated far more than something with business-like intentions. And the way he looked at her everytime he caught her eye the entire way to the club, always with a bright smile and adoring gaze that she always returned, pulled at her heartstrings far more than they should have if this was all an act.

A sloppy and cheeky grin settled almost permanently on his features after he had a few drinks in him, his arms moving in a lazy and fluid manner as she took in his many tattoos that he had exposed when he ditched his jacket (just like she knew he would). His butterfly was visible through the tight ribbed fabric of the white tank top and the little birds that peaked out from underneath seemed to be inviting her even closer to him in her now inebriated state.

All she wanted to do was to connect her lips with his as she watched him make conversation with someone from his management, entranced by the way his perfect mouth moved as he spoke. She once again craved the shocks of electricity that were created between them at the contact and could not stop thinking about it no matter how hard she tried. The protective hand that had settled onto her hip and continued to hold her close to his body just wasn’t enough anymore.

The pair had been drinking far too much; martinis turning into vodka sodas that had turned into straight tequila shots. She believed it was tequila shot four that did her in. The last thing she remembered was licking the line of salt off the back of her hand, downing the shot, and being entranced by Harry’s eyes as she bit down on the slice of lime he held carefully with his jeweled fingers.

***

The next morning, Y/N woke up in a hotel room that she didn’t recognize with a pounding headache and a swirling gut. It felt like she had been hit with a truck and she could barely pick her head up off the pillow.

She had so many questions about what had happened the night before. Where was she? Who let her drink that much? Whose clothes was she wearing? But most of all, what the hell happened after that fourth shot?

But she realized the worst was yet to come when she heard soft snoring coming from beside her. She knew that snoring well. It was the snoring that kept her up half the night for the last two months and the one that had almost driven her to suffocating her bus-mate in his sleep; the snoring that matched the crumbled black suit she just noticed in a ball on the floor.

It took every ounce of strength in her body to pull herself from the pillow and turn around in the bed to have her suspicions confirmed.

There he was.

His dark long eyelashes were fluttered down across the tops of his cheeks and his hair was going in every direction, skin clammy like his body was trying to rid itself of all the poison he had ingested the night before. The crumpled comforter was pushed down his stomach, his bare skin holding a sheen that helped define every dip or curve of his muscles and the tiniest bit of the band of his boxers peaked out to assure her that he at least wasn’t fully naked next to her.

Why were they in bed together? And why did he look so good? Oh my god, she thought as a possibility dawned on her. Did we sleep together?

“Harry,” she murmured softer than she intended, voice scratchy and mouth dry. The soreness at the back of her throat clued her into the copious amounts of screaming she must have done last night. He didn’t stir at her gentle coaxing, the light streaming through the windows making him look angelic as it covered him in a blanket of soft light while he continued to sleep.

It was a hard nudge to his chest that finally made him open his eyes, immediately releasing a groan she was sure she made when she regained consciousness too. He looked at her puzzled, still rubbing sleep out of his eyes as he propped himself up on his elbows. He took an equally confused look around the hotel room before looking back at her. She watched as the gears slowly turned in his head until his eyes opened wide and he spring up into a sitting position to mirror hers.

“We didn’t,” he whispered hopefully. “Oh my god, did we?” he asked, a look of horror crossing his face that matched her own.

“I have no idea,” she anxiously replied. “I was hoping you would know!”

“You don’t remember anything?”

“The last thing I remember was doing tequila shots with you.”

“I remember those.” He rubbed his eyes hard like it would somehow jog his memory. His eyebrows knit together, buried in thought as he searched his brain for a timeline. “I can follow the night up until we did karaoke.”

“We did karaoke?” she repeated incredulously and was met with a somber nod. “Do I even want to know what we sang?”

He shook his head slowly, shame clear on his face, before he finally mumbled. “We did ‘It’s Raining Men.’”

“Oh my god, no,” she whined, holding her head in her hands and rubbing her temples. There were surely videos of them sloppily singing on top of a bar circulating online and she wasn’t sure how Jeff would be able to spin that one in a positive light.

“Where’s your phone?” he asked, a hopeful glint in his eye as he reached for his own. “Maybe there’s something on there that can clue us in.” It took her a moment but she finally spotted it on the ground in the corner of the room. She said a silent prayer that it wasn’t dead or broken.

Forcing her heavy limbs out from under the covers she made her way towards the device, but not before she heard a confused sound coming from Harry. “How did you get my clothes?”

Looking down at herself and taking in the red lettering that read But Daddy I Love Him across her chest, it clicked that the t-shirt and baggy basketball shorts were his. But how they hell did she get into them?

“I think we’ve established at this point that I don’t know anything that happened after about midnight, Harry.” Her words came out laced with slight frustration. She hoped he knew she wasn’t annoyed with him, just their situation.

“Just a question, princess.”

She ignored his quip and began to search through her texts, call history, and photos, hoping to find anything at all that could help trace their steps through the night. She found nothing but a few selfies of them still at the club. One was the pair casually smiling, the next was one of him kissing her on the cheek that made her skin warm, but the final one made her snort out a laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“I have a picture on my phone of you with two martini olives shoved up your nose,” she spoke through hysterical laughter. “Definitely birthday post material if you ask me.”

“Let me see,” he demanded with an adorable scowl.

She passed her phone over to him, still letting a few chuckles fall past her lips. “I’m gonna change your name in my phone to ‘Olive Nose Styles.”

“You're cruel.”

“You’re the one that put olives up his nose and then posed for a picture!”

“Whatever,” he grumbled, turning attention back to his own screen to continue his investigation. “There’s nothing of use on my phone either.”

The two flopped back on the bed, staring at the ceiling in the frustrated confusion. There was so much of their night that had gone up into smoke, completely unaccounted for with no clues as to what they did. Each traced their steps over and over again in their heads as they hoped desperately for a single detail that would lead them down a path to bigger memories, but it never came.

“Are we going to have to call Jeff and ask him what happened?” she finally murmured.

“I think so.”

“He’s going to put us both in client timeout, isn’t he?”

“We’re probably already there,” he groaned as he picked up his phone and hit Jefe Jeff-e in his contact list, putting the call on speaker and resting it on his still bare chest. The man on the other end picked up almost immediately.

“Morning Sleeping Beauty, I was wondering when I was going to hear from you.”

“Hi Jeff,” he groggily started then stopped, searching for the words that would make this all less uncomfortable. “Y/N and I have some questions about last night.”

Jeff let out a strained chuckle. “Yeah, that doesn’t really surprise me after last night’s bar bill.”

“Um,” Harry hummed, stammering but unable to form any real words.

“You sing about sex for a living,” she hissed at the man next to her before yanking the phone off his chest. “Jeff,” she started, taking over the conversation for them both. “Do you know if we slept together?”

“Probably not. You both were pretty unconscious when I put you in the hotel room.” His words prompted a massive sigh from both of them, looking to each other to share a relieved smile.

“Oh thank god,” they mumbled in unison.

“Jinx,” he smirked under his breath, prompting a ‘shut up’ from her.

“How did I get into Harry’s clothes?”

“I stopped by the tour bus when I realized you two probably shouldn’t be trusted not to roll out of your top bunks. I got you some clothes to sleep in before we took you guys to the hotel.”

“But why Harry’s?”

It was Jeff’s term to get squirmy. “I felt weird going through your things.”

“But you were perfectly fine with going through mine?” Harry asked, only half joking.

“Absolutely,” he deadpanned. They were all quiet for a moment before Jeff began again. “You two really don’t remember anything else that happened?”

“Everything after about two is unaccounted for,” she confessed.

“Oh,” Jeff chuckled. “So, you don’t remember when you stuck your tongues down each other’s throats on the ride home?”

Fuck.

Her eyes raced up to Harry’s from the phone she had been staring at like it held all the secrets of the night before. His easily readable features displayed all his emotions that surely matched hers. His pupils had grown in surprise, taking over nearly all the green in his wide eyes, and an embarrassed blush tinted his cheeks in a red hot flush that had reached the tips of his ears. His eyes flashed to the blank wall in front of them, running a stressed hand through his curls, like if he wasn’t looking at her, he would be able to focus better on the newly revealed information.

She couldn’t say that she didn’t relate. Her mind often went blank when she looked at him too. But right now, it was racing, occupied by anxious thoughts and intense emotions she couldn’t quite place, but felt with her entire being.

Her inevitable downward spiral was interrupted when Harry stiffly cleared his throat. “Uh,” he started, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. “We’ll see you later.”

“Sounds good, love birds,” Jeff replied, a clear snark apparent in his voice. Neither of the pair dignified his teasing with a response, Y/N quickly ending the call.

Silence hung heavy in the air and she let her eyes hover over the phone for too long when she settled it down on the bed, unwilling to connect her eyes with his just yet. Harry always had a way of staring into her and revealing all her cards to him before she even knew them herself. She wanted to hold them close to her chest for a moment, protecting the heart that longed for him more than anything else in the world.

There were no words exchanged between the two for a while as they silently took turns in the bathroom and occupied their hands and thoughts by their phones. They walked on eggshells anytime one neared the other. A tension like this hadn’t existed since the very first day they met, the first day they had begun to pretend.

Maybe that's why Harry was being so quiet. Maybe he never wanted to cross that line of pretending like she did. Maybe she had been blinded by his generally friendly personality and tricked herself into thinking there was anything more than a charade between them. Maybe last night really was just a drunken mistake, no matter how much she wanted it to be more.

“Maybe it’s a good thing that we don’t remember what happened last night,” she finally murmured from the opposite end of the room. She rested the side of her still heavy head and muscles against the wall, arms crossed in front of her as if they could keep her safe from the tension they had created. Her fingers nervously played with the hem of his t-shirt she was still dressed in.

“Why is it a good thing?” he almost immediately responded from the chair on the other side of the room he had settled himself into, running his hands along the satin pants of last night’s outfit he had put back on during their awkward shuffling around the room. He had even put physical space between them since they found out what happened, causing her heart to feel as if it was teetering on the edge of disintegrating.

“Well,” she stuttered, refusing to look at him and continuing to pick at her nail polish. “We’re just pretending so it would be weird if we really remembered it.”

“I don’t think it would be weird.”

“I don’t know,” she tried to maneuver her way around his response. “It might just be embarrassing to think about it.”

He let out a long and frustrated sigh, running his hands down his face. There was so much going on behind his eyes and she wished he would say something, anything, to break down the wall that hadn’t existed between them in months that was slowly reappearing.

“Do you regret it?” he asked bluntly, the abrupt question shocking her body to attention. “Do you regret any of this? Any of us?”

Did she regret drinking too much? Yes. Did she regret making out with him in front of their manager? Yes. Did she regret denying her feelings and pretending they didn’t exist for so long? Of course. But, did she regret falling in love with him? Never, not even for a second.

“No, I don’t,” she let out with a gentle shake of her head, no louder than a whisper.

“Neither do I.”

The words had barely left his lips before he crossed the room and crashed them into hers. The same fire she had felt on stage returned ten times over as his lips moved smoothly over hers, every neuron in her body lighting up like a switchboard. Her fingers reached up to curl into his hair and pull his lips impossibly closer to hers as her heart hammered in her chest with a passionate love she had kept under wraps for so long.

He tasted like the spicy peppermint toothpaste the hotel stocked in the bathroom and smelled like the tiny bottles of shampoo that rested on the side of the bathtub; but there was so much else about him that was completely unique–wholly irreplaceable and indescribable. He was just Harry.

Teeth clashed, lips were bitten, and hair was pulled as they took in every sensation the other created. His lips had been the only thought that captivated her mind since they were on stage the night before and her return to them did not disappoint. If her head wasn’t dizzy and her lungs not screaming at her for air, she would have stayed in that moment forever

When they finally disconnected, they stood against each other in a heaving and disheveled mess of heavy breathing and adoringly dazed smiles. She swore she could feel the pounding of his heart under her fingertips that rested on his chest.

“That was nice,” he eventually murmured down at her through heavy breaths, a love drunk grin finding its way onto his swollen lips.

“Yeah, I agree,” she hummed breathlessly, her anxious thoughts quiet and calm for the first time she could remember since she met him.

“I’m kind of disappointed I don’t remember doing that the first time,” he chuckled softly at her, shaking his head lightly in embarrassment with his pink tinged cheeks on full display.

“That’s okay. We were ‘just practicing’ then, right?” A giggle left her lips as she used the words against him. The same words he had used every time they let a glimpse of their true affections for each other slip past their guarded and friendly facade.

His dimples were exposed when he smiled a giant grin and let out a knowing huff, piecing together that she had caught onto his trail of excuses. “Yeah, just practicing,” he repeated softly, before his tone turned sincere and genuine. “I don’t want us to pretend anymore.”

“Good,” she said softly as her fingers slid up his neck to beckon his lips back down to hers. “I never was.”

“Neither was I.” She watched a soft smirk appear on his lips as they hovered over hers. “Do you want to keep not practicing?”

“Depends,” she quipped, lips brushing over his as she spoke. “Am I better kisser than Taylor Swift?

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!! REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK MEAN THE WORLD!!!

An extra for our babies can be found here!

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harrywritingsbyme · 4 years ago

Text

The one about Harry's leather suit

Based Off Of This Ask

And This One

A/N: So I know it’s like a week late, but Harry won a Grammy...and I’m so proud of him. I wish I could’ve written this sooner, but I’m not as talented and as quick to come up with fic ideas like so many other writers on here. So I decided to just write a smutty and little blurb for y’all. This one was rlly hard to write, not bc I was writers block or anything; simply bc there were just too many good concepts to choose from. Plus the timeline of events of said concepts and the fic in general would be shitty and I didn’t want to jump from one time to a new one and not have a cohesive fic…that takes a lot of practice lmao. So I had to leave some stuff out even tho I rlly didn’t want to. But I hope what I was able to put together isn’t trash…the ending sucks but that’s okay I guess. enjoy🙃

3.7k wordsss

You were going absolutely insane right now. As you sat at the end of the bed and watched Harry get ready for his performance, you were finding it incredibly hard to maintain your composure and hold on to any shred of sanity you had left. Your eyes followed his every movement as he floated through the room, not once stopping to focus on something other than Harry. The only times you looked away were when he caught you redhanded staring at him. But even then, your eyes were trained right back on him once he wasn’t looking in your direction. As you sat there, you could feel your body becoming warmer and warmer, little beads of sweat forming along your forehead and the back of your neck as you watched him. You could also feel the area between your legs becoming stickier and stickier as the time went on. Now you always loved the clothes he wore on stage and how he made just about anything look great. You were also consistent with the mindset that Harry was the most gorgeous man to ever walk the earth.

But for some reason, in this moment he was even hotter than normal and you were completely obsessed with what he was wearing. His outfit managed to make him look even hotter than usual, his gorgeousness managed to make his outfit look even more stunning and hot, and the both of them together managed to push you to the brink of exploding into a billion tiny pieces. On top of all that, even though you knew his nerves were flowing regarding his first and opening performance at the Grammys where he was nominated an incredible three times, you could still feel his excitement and confidence radiating off of him. Which only contributed to you being pushed even closer to exploding into tiny pieces. The combination of feeling proud of Harry and his accomplishments, being very enamored for him, and being extremely hot and bothered over his mere existence was a whirlwind that only Harry could pull you out of.

“Okay, so how do I look babe?” Harry asks as he turns around to fully face you, his voice breaking you out of your riled up thoughts.

“You look great.” You quickly reply, trying to suppress the fiery need you had for him that was rumbling nearly uncontrollably inside of you.

“Are you alright Y/n? You seem a bit out of it.” He asks, his voice filled with concern. Well, pretend concern that is. He wasn’t going to just call you out on being so turned on right in front of his team; he wasn’t going to embarrass you like that. He was already doing it in very subtle ways. From keeping the bathroom door open a bit so that you could watch him change, to making sure to catch you staring at him, to even taking the time to shower you with love and attention. Harry knew exactly what he was doing to you and he got such a kick out of watching you crumble and become desperate for him. Maybe that was just his self proclaimed narcissism working in the form of a mild embarrassment kink. Either way though, Harry knew exactly what he was doing and he knew the effect all of the little things he did would have on you. He also knew that he’d have to take care of you before he was sucked into the madness of it all. No matter how much he loved driving you up the walls with his antics, whether it was turning you on beyond compare or annoying the hell out of you, Harry was always going to make sure you were alright. Plus it ended up working out in his favor since he could really use a pre-first time ever Grammy performance round to loosen him up and shake all the nerves that were running through his body. And you looked too cute just sitting there at the edge of the bed watching him.

“Hey Harry, how much time until we have to leave?” Harry asks his stylist, his attention still in your direction.

“A little over an hour.” His stylist promptly replies.

“Can I have 30 with Y/n please?” Harry asks, his attention still in your direction. He could see you beginning to squirm a bit under his gaze and he wasn’t going to let up until you two were all alone and he could dive into everything that was going on with you right in front of him.

“And not a second more Harry! And Y/n!” He replies, poking his head around the corner to point his response at you as well. “We have to get pictures and all before we leave.” He then proceeds to get the other two of his team members together and out of the the door. “And please don’t get anything on the clothes!” He shouts back, already having a pretty good idea as to what you two were about to get into before closing the door, leaving you and Harry all alone.

Without saying a single word to you, Harry steps closer to where you’re sitting on the bed and reaches out to grab your hands and pull you up from the bed. To which you immediately oblige and stand up in front of him at the end of the bed. And in what seemed like a blink of an eye, Harry switches positions with you, sitting at the end of the bed before pulling you right on top of him and into his lap.

“What are you-“

“Don’t act like you don’t want it.” Harry interjects, deciding that if he only had 30 minuets with you, he wasn’t going to be playing any games.

“But we only-“

“Do you want to stop throbbing down there or what?” He asks sternly, cutting you off again.

“M’throbbing so bad.” You sigh, completely giving into him and beginning to move yourself against him a bit.

“Why doll?” He asks, wrapping his hands around your thighs to pull you higher up into his lap before helping you move back and forth against him.

“You just look so good daddy.” You moan, letting out a little sigh at not only the image of him that was stuck in your head, but also at how good it felt to have some type of friction down there. You were craving any type of touch or attention from Harry and you were finally getting it.

“You like what daddy’s wearin’ for his performance?” He breathes out in response, beginning to get a bit more riled up himself. He was already quite turned on at how you were trying so hard to keep it together. But now you were on top of him, a little subby, and falling apart. He could feel his cock growing and growing in his pants beneath you. And the more you moved back and forth on him, the harder he got and the more desperate he became to have your walls around him.

“Mhm!” You whine, continuing to move back and forth against him. “Need you so bad!” You whimper, leaning into him a bit more so that you could dig your clit down into him. Which in turn causes your moans to become a tad higher.

“Is that little clit of yours tingling for daddy sweet girl?” He asks, bucking his hips up into you a couple times, picking up on the slight change in your movement. “Bet it’s nice and swollen f’me. Always so sensitive and ready to be played with.” He continues on, reminiscing on all the times where he made you squirt multiple times simply from toying with and sucking on your cute little bud.

To move things further along, Harry removes his hands from your thighs and he brings brings them up to your waist before lying back against the bed and pulling you higher up in his lap. You were so caught up in how good it felt to be relieving some of the pressure between your legs against the bump in Harry’s pants that you didn’t even notice Harry taking a peek underneath your dress.

“Well I see someone decided to wear panties today.” Harry chuckles as he pushes his index finger up between your folds a bit to pull the panties that your pussy had practically engulfed out, causing you to snap out of your pleasured trance.

“Figured it was appropriate for the occasion so I decided to just throw a pair on.” You explain through your soft pants, a cute little smile spreading across your face in the process.

“Cute. But if y’gonna wear panties sweets, make sure they can fit all of y’pussy.” He chuckles, admiring how the glistening and fleshy lips of your cunt practically swallowed up all of the material from your panties.

“But I thought you liked that daddy.” You whisper though a little pout, lifting your dress a little higher to take a peek down there yourself.

“I do sweet girl. It’s just that I prefer easy access y’know. Never know when I may wanna fuck you or eat your pretty little peach.” He explains. “Don’t want anything in the way.” He continues on, swiftly pulling your panties, which were pretty sticky by the way, to the side to expose your even stickier pussy to him. “Now that’s even cuter.” Harry huffs, his need to feel you growing by the second. You were so wet that all the curly little hairs around your pussy were completely matted from all of your sticky juices. He had to feel that around his cock.

“Thank you daddy.” You whisper back, feeling a warmth rising to your cheeks at his comment and the fact that he’s just ogling at your pussy. “Now it’s your turn.” You whisper excitedly, moving down off of his bulge some more and shifting your focus on undoing his pants. “I see someone didn’t have the same idea.” You note upon seeing that he was completely bare underneath his pants.

“Don’t like t’be confined baby, you know that.” He replies simply. “Again, easy access.”

“Just don’t get hard while you’re performing, you know how you get.” You warn. See, given the fact that Harry loved performing, on top of the fact that he was again, a self proclaimed narcissist, he tended to get a bit of a performance high so to speak. And as a result of that performance high, Harry would get excited. And since he is now a 3x Grammy nominee, and performing for that matter, that performance high was definitely going to be intensified.

Once you’ve completely undone his pants, you immediately push your hand down into them and you pull his cock out. At this point he was fully hard and throbbing, begging to be lodged in between your walls. You could see and feel all of the veins running up and down his shaft and his head was a reddish color with glistening precum beading at his slit. As you stare at his very sizable cock, you couldn’t help but be a little bit intimidated at his size. He was so big and even after the countless times he’s pushed into you, it was still incredibly hard to fathom all of him being able to fit inside. But that didn’t meant that you didn’t want him to be inside of you. So without wasting any more time, you lift yourself onto your knees and you move up to hover over Harry’s cock, keeping your hand wrapped around his hard yet soft shaft. When you do this, Harry uses his free hand to bunch your dress up at your hips so that he could watch you sink down onto him.

“Don’t be scared of it baby. Just take it inside like the good girl you are for daddy.” He encourages through his breaths, pulling your panties to the side a bit more. You then begin to lower yourself down onto him, stopping when you feel the thick crown of his cock nudging at you. Since you couldn’t really see, you feel your way around, pushing his cock around the warm and ready area between your legs. Once you have him positioned at your entrance, you begin to slowly sink down onto him.

“Oh my-fuck daddy!” You whimper, feeling the familiar sting that came along with taking Harry’s cock.

“Doin’ so good f’me baby!” Harry praises trough his grunts, becoming a bit overwhelmed at how good you feel around him. Your whines were like music to his ears as you filled yourself with him and your walls were like heaven.

By the time you make it a little over halfway down his cock, you’re all floaty and incredibly overwhelmed that you can’t even go any further without stopping. When you open your eyes to look down at Harry, you see him staring back at you with intense yet proud eyes and you couldn’t help but clench up around him a bit.

“Can I have more daddy?” You moan, moving mack and forth against the portion of his cock that was already inside of you. Instead of verbally replying to your question, Harry lets go of your panties and brings it up to your waist so that both hands were at your waist for him to guide you the rest of the way down. And as he does, the both of you let out the most frenzied moans, you and Harry feeling the deepest part of you becoming full with his cock. There were even little tears welling up in your eyes because it just felt so good. When you’re fully sitting in his lap again, you immediately begin moving against him. You have keep both hands planted on his bare chest as you grind and bounce yourself on his cock

“Fuck Y/n! Takin’ me so well doll.” Harry grunts, keeping his hands tightly wrapped around your hips as you move. Even though your movements were a bit sloppy, they were still nothing short of perfect. At some points you’d get a good bouncing rhythm going, lifting yourself and dropping back down onto him over and over again. And then you’d hit that spot inside of you, and you’d just keep yourself down and grind and circle your hips around to apply pressure and friction to that spot with his cock. Other times you’d be moving on his cock, but you’d be digging your clit into the slightly coarse hairs surrounding Harry’s cock, that being your biggest pleasure point. Harry was positive that your little button would be all swollen and even more sensitive than it already was once you were done but you could’ve cared less. All you were concerned about was feeling good. And so was Harry.

He loved and thought you looked absolutely cute being all selfish and trying your hardest to relieve yourself. While you were consumed with pleasuring yourself, you were in turn pleasuring Harry in ways that were beyond belief. On top of the obvious fact that your walls were the best and the only thing Harry ever wanted to be around his cock, your juices were also playing a part in his pleasure. Since you were practically gushing around him, your juices were constantly flowing out of you. They were dripping right out of you, down from his cock, and down to his balls and even further to his entrance. It felt so good to Harry, he wished he could have more. You were making him feel so good that his moans were just a song of your praises.

But even though you were making Harry feel absolutely amazing, you were becoming exhausted. At this point, it was too much and you could barely hold yourself up let alone keep moving back and forth against him. Upon seeing this, Harry takes control of it all and flips you two over so that he’s on top of you. When he does this, his cock slips out of you. But instead of immediately pushing back inside, Harry brings his hands to your thighs to push them apart before pulling your panties back over to the side and attaching him mouth to your oh so sensitive clit. When you feel Harry suckling on your clit, you lose it. You could feel him suckling and sucking on your button, quickly flicking his tongue back and forth against you, not once letting up. You could also feel him using his free hand to lightly scratch at the inside of your thigh which was also very sensitive. Harry then lets up from your clit to give you one wide lick from your entrance all the way up to your clit before going back to sucking at it. And at that moment, you realize that you wouldn’t be able to wait and cum with him. You just let go right then and there. To be more specific, you squirt all over the lower portion of Harry’s face and part of his chest. When he feels your warm juices splashing against his face, he begins to suck even harder; making your moans intensify and your hands tug even harder on his hair. Once you’ve stopped squirting, Harry detaches his mouth from your clit, and quickly licks and slobbers all over you before coming back up. Even though your juices were all warm, it was still a little refreshing considering the fact that he was quite literally burning up in the all leather look that you loved so much.

“Now what you have between your legs is a Grammy winning pussy sweetheart. And it deserves every other award there is to give.” He praises through a chuckle, causing you to let out a little, tired out laugh. Harry was completely in awe at how amazing your cunt was and what you just did. But he doesn’t spend too much time being in awe though because he can feel his release bubbling in his lower stomach and the time he has left with you was running low. So he taps his cock against your very pink and swollen clit before sinking back into you and going right into pistoning himself in and out of you over and over again. With every stroke, Harry could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge. He could also feel you tightening your walls up around him with every thrust. You were incredibly sensitive from your last release and you were on the brink of another. Whenever he slams back into you, he almost grinds up against you, aka your clit.

“Gonna cum again daddy!” You cry out to him, digging your heels into the bed and clawing at the sheets, feeling a second wave building up inside of you.

“Cum with me baby.” Harry growls, feeling himself approaching the edge of his release. And with two more swift thrusts, you and Harry are catapulted off of the edge. As you squirt for the second time (thank goodness he had them pushed down far enough so that they wouldn’t get all wet), Harry unloads all he has into you, dropping his head into your neck as he releases spurt after spurt of his cum into you.

After a minuet or two of catching his breath, Harry lifts his face from your neck and he slowly pulls himself from you, making sure to quickly pull your panties back over to keep his cum from spilling out and making an even bigger mess between your legs. And to really keep all of that cum secure inside of you, he pushes your panties back up between the lips of your pussy. They were going to end up in there anyways so why not.

“Thanks for the sugar high doll.” He hums as he hovers over your disheveled and adorably fucked out figure, his bended knee right between your limp and spread legs. “I love you” He softly sings with a dopey smile. Proceeding to bring his hand up to lightly choke you and cup your chin before connecting his lips with your slightly parted ones for a kiss. It was supposed to be And as he sponges his lips against yours, you could feel his tongue gliding perfectly against yours, taking complete control and exploring your mouth.

“I love you too.” You reply with a little laugh once he pulls away from your lips, still floaty from it all.

He then stands up and pulls his undone pants back up. He looked absolutely gorgeous right then and there. When you see your phone lying on the bed where you tossed it a little bit earlier, you quickly reach over and grab it to capture a quick snap of that undeniably hot moment that was right in front of your eyes. His pants were undone like they were when he first put the clothes on and because you missed out on that first opportunity to capture him like that, you weren’t going to miss out on this one. Especially when he’s covered in that amazing post sex glow.

“Are you takin’ pictures of me?” He smirks as he begins to do his pants back up.

“Mhm, how could I not?!” You ask, dropping the phone back onto the bed to fully take in his actions in front of you. “Plus, I want to be the first to memorialize this suit.”

“Well you’re first one to christen it that’s for sure.” Harry jokes. “I do look pretty hot though if I do say so myself.” Harry admires, looking into the mirror beside him.

“Very hot. The leather is just doing it for me for some reason.” You admire.

“Well m’glad you like it sweets.” He Hums “Gotta get up though, I have a feeling they’re about to kick down the door.” He replies, quickly doing his pants back up before leaning over to grab you up from the bed.

“Cant feel my legs.” You tiredly huff, doing your best to move with Harry’s tugging motions.

“Well if I win on Sunday you won’t be feeling your legs for the entire week.” He replies mater of factly.

“And if you don’t?” You ask, deciding to poke at him a bit as you sit at the end of the bed.

“You won’t be feeling your legs for the entire week.” He chuckles, repeating his previous statement.

“Now I’m really looking forward to Sunday. I mean…I get to watch you perform in this suit again, I get to watch you achieve something major in your career, and I get the opportunity to be railed at the end of it all. I’m the real winner here.” You happily reply to Harry before falling back onto the bed.

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kiribaku-queen · 3 years ago

Note

Hiii congratulation for 1000 followers! U deserve it! So i was thinking of bakugou!prohero a reader where he's always busy and always hv this photoshoot with these hot models or hot pro hero that made reader feel left out. And the last straw was when a newly magazine publish of him kissing other girls cheek (or mouth) (u do u;)) and thats when they had a bad fight that caused reader to run away. I would like it to be heavy angst with a happy ending. I love angst but after a heavy angst i like a happy ending to soothe my heart 😂 if u do choose this, gudluck!

Blinded by the Fame

Angst

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Word Count: 3.5K

A/N: Thank you so so much for this request! I was actually so excited to do this piece because I already had an idea I wanted to use and this scenario was PERFECTO~! So painful yet so good!

Thank you for the congratulations and I hope this request met your needs! Please let me know your thoughts!

Who said dating an upcoming hero was going to be easy? It certainly wasn’t easy, not in the slightest. You definitely had hard days. There were times when it got so difficult that you wanted to quit. But was loving the hero worth it and fulfilling? Absolutely.

Bakugou Katsuki was the love of your life. Relationships were never easy. Couples always have obstacles and challenges they have to overcome. Even when you were in tears, screaming at each other at the top of your lungs, even if you gave each other the cold shoulder the entire week, nothing could replace the warmth that was Bakugou’s arms. You would never much refuse his touch every tine, but that wouldn’t stop Bakugou from having you in his arms every night, whispering sweet nothings in your ears despite all the things he said prior. And you would forgive him. Of course you would. How could you not?

But being with a rising hero came with bearing a lot of burden that you had to keep to yourself. You didn’t like how he was working all the time. You didn’t like how he came home bruised up, sometimes not even going to the hospital if it means not being able to see you for the night. You couldn’t bare seeing him like that. But that was part of his job and that was never going to change. So no matter how much you absolutely hated the sight, you let him do his hero work because that was what he loved to do. You couldn’t interfere with his dreams of becoming the number one hero.

But the thing that itched you the most was when Bakugou was forced to promotional shoots to get his name out there. The memory of when he first started made you laugh. Being the Bakugou that he was, he flat-out refused to do it. He didn’t like getting his picture taken. He’ll dress up once in a while, and when he does it’s real clean, but he wasn’t a fan of constantly dressing up. But when he finally let go and tried it once, he saw how much fan votes and popularity he was getting and eventually, would do more here and there.

And you didn’t mind if the shoots were by himself, but most of the time, they were with other pro-heroes or very attractive models. And that you feel insecure. How could it not? Your boyfriend getting close to other women while you looked nothing like these women? You didn’t have the body, the face, the money, or the fame these women brought to the table. You would never admit it, but you hated when other women were in the picture. And you hated when one of the women would be touching him. It left a sickening feeling in the pit of your stomach. You were so sure that he was going to leave you for one of them. But he proved his love by dropping down on one knee with the most gorgeous ring.

“Come with me to the shoot,” Bakugou proposed but you hesitated.

“I can just meet you at the restaurant,” you decided. The mention of being on set for one of his photoshoots seemed like a bad idea.

“I want to go together. It won’t even take long. One hour tops,” he swore and brought you by the waist, your body flushed against him. He takes your face in his hands and gently puts your foreheads together.

“I know you’ve been wanting to go to this restaurant forever. Let’s go together,” he whispers and you couldn’t help but fall for that voice over and over again.

“Okay,” you whispered back. He smiles at you, places a small kiss to your forehead, then your lips, before taking your hand to lead you to the car.

The set of the shoot was intimidating. People were running around everywhere, cameras were set in all positions, lights were blinding and hot, the space just looked so busy. And you felt like you didn’t belong. But Bakugou was so used to this kind of scene. He leads you to where the photographer and the director were talking.

“Ah, Pro-Hero Dynamite, you made it!” the director greeted your boyfriend. “Your stylist is in the next room. Go ahead and get changed and we’ll get started.” Bakugou nodded and turned to you.

“I’ll be right back,” Bakugou said and kissed you on the forehead. You watched as your boyfriend disappeared in the sea of people and then you were left all alone.

This was fine. You would just wait in the back patiently for him to be done. And then you two could enjoy a nice evening out at that fancy restaurant you’ve always been wanting to try. Just relax. You closed your eyes and took deep, but slow breaths. There was nothing to get worked up over. Afterall, it looked like Bakugou was doing this shoot by himself.

But you spoke too soon. Bakugou had appeared from the dressing room, looking all dashing and handsome. You felt your heart skip again. He was wearing a red shirt that was unbuttoned to the third button, exposing his broad and muscular chest. Over, he wore a black jacket with leather gloves and pants. His hair was styled slightly back, forehead showing. He was mesmerizing to look at. But shortly after his appearance, two women walked out behind him. Two gorgeous, fit, and slim women who wore skin tight, elegant dresses were doing the shoot with him. And for some reason, your heart began to hurt. The pang in your heart was constant that you had to beat at your chest to calm yourself down.

They were beautiful. And you had recognized one of the women: Pro-hero Miruko. You knew their history together. Bakugou had worked under Miruko during his school days and eventually worked along side with her after he graduated. You knew she was a flirt. She flirted with everybody. And that was fine, until she got alittle too touchy with your boyfriend. And that bothered you. But Bakugou was so used to her behavior that he didn’t even notice.

You couldn’t say anything. They are old time friends and co-workers. What? Are you supposed to say that he can’t be friends with her anymore just because you didn’t like it? And then you would look like the possessive girlfriend? You were fine with him being friends with other women, but they did make you nervous. Nervous because all the women he’s surrounded by are so unbelievably good looking, it put you to shame. Why would he want to be with you when he could have all these women to choose from?

But you tried to shake these negative thoughts away and playfully tugged at the ring on your ringer. There was a reason why he chose you. There was a reason why he gave you this ring. You shouldn’t think this way. But you couldn’t help it. You tried not to let it bother you, but in the end, it did. It really did. It bothered you so much that you couldn’t stop fidgeting.

You watched at Bakugou sat on the couch with both women on each side of him. His arms were lounging on the back of the couch while one girl sat next to him and Miruko stood behind him. Looking at his facial expressions, he didn’t seem interested in any of the girls. Which is a good sign?

And so the shoot started. Nothing else could be heard besides music playing in the background and the loud click of the camera. Everyone else was watching the shoot take place. Everything looked okay so far. Their outfits were scandalous but nothing scandalous was happening. The only directions the models were given was to look sexily at the camera. Bakugou delivered that perfectly with his go-to signature look. But now the photographer wanted more.

“Can the two women get a little closer, please?” the photographer asked and put his camera up to his face once more. The girls did what they were told and Bakugou didn’t even flinch. But you were growing nervous. There was more skin happening, more touching and it was making you uncomfortable. You gasped when you saw Miruko grab Bakugou by his chin to lift to towards her direction. Then she leans in, her lips ghosting over his ever so slightly, like they were about to kiss. Tears were spilling out and your cheeks heated up in anger until you finally exploded.

“Stop!” you yelled, stopping all production. Heads from all around turned to you. Mirko looked at you shocked and Bakugou was wide eyed with curiosity and concern. You gripped the handle of the purse that was slung around your shoulder, feeling anxious now that everyone was looking at you.

“Sorry, give me one moment,” Bakugou apologized to the staff. He got up, rushing towards you. He takes your hand and brings you in the dressing room. The door slammed shut and Bakugou turns to you in a huff.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he hissed. With tears streaming down your face, you were shocked by his reaction. But you were going to stand your ground.

“I don’t like how she was touching you,” you say.

“It’s my job,” he sighs in exasperation.

“Well she should learn her boundaries, whether it’s a job or not. And if you respected me at all, you would tell her no,” you stated firmly. But all Bakugou did was roll his eyes.

“You’re overreacting.” You scoff and it was your turn to roll your eyes.

“Oh, I’m overreacting? Is it wrong that I don’t like when other women are touching you?” you started to raise your voice and talk back.

“Do I have to say it again? It’s my job. If I’m going to make it big, I have to do it. What? You think I like her? You think I was going to let her kiss me? It’s just for the pictures. Geez, how sensitive can you get?” he stabbed you right in a sensitive topic. You stayed silent because you weren’t expecting him to say that. The moment you think he’s going to stop there, he keeps going.

“I might need to save lots of women who are in danger. What? You don’t want me touching them? You’re going to get jealous because I’ll have some stranger in my arms? You’re afraid that she’s going to cling to me for dear life because I’m saving her? You don’t like that?!” he was practically screaming now.

“No! I don’t like that!” you screamed right back, giving back the same amount of energy. The tension in the air was so thick, anyone could feel it. Hell, they were all listening from outside and they felt uncomfortable with the ambiance of the situation. Both parties’ chests were heaving up and down from the labored breathing. And you just glared at each other. Bakugou turns away from you, breaking the ice.

“Fine. If you’re going to be this jealous, then maybe… maybe we shouldn’t be together,” he said. That was it. That was when your heart broke into a million pieces. You felt like if you stood there any longer, you would have suffocated.

“Fine,” you whisper. He doesn’t even spare you a glance. With teary eyes and a heavy heart, you tighten your jaw as you take off your engagement ring, wiggling it off your finger and then setting it down on the counter beside you. The sound of the metal hitting the hard desk was loud enough for Bakugou to hear, but he still chose not to turn to you. You thought that maybe, just maybe, if he turned around and said he didn’t mean it, then you would have been okay. You would have forgave him for those mean things he said. And then you would have apologized to him. But he looked set on his decision.

Without another word, you turned around and sped out of that building, tears never stopping. Everyone saw you go. Miruko laid her sad eyes on you and her broke for you. Shortly after, Bakugou walks back to the couch, plopping down with a huff.

“Let’s continue,” he says begrudgingly. But nobody moves, still shell-shocked about yousr argument. But this causes Bakugou to explode.

“Are you not going to start? Let’s get on with it!!” he hollers and everyone rushes like mice to get back to production. Bakugou lets out a long sigh, face in a permanent frown.

Miruko sits on the back of the couch and looks down at her old friend. She could tell that he was hurting just as much as you, if not more.

“Idiot~” Miruko sang.

“Ha?” Bakugou glared up at his past mentor. Mirko looked at her nails, not paying mind to the hot head who was on the verge of exploding.

“You need to go apologize,” she told him, more like ordered him to.

“Like it’s my fault.”

“You didn’t take her feelings into consideration,” Miruko pointed out, silencing Bakugou on the spot. “If she was feeling a little jealous, then her feelings are totally valid. You need to do something about it and make her feel like she doesn’t need to worry about anything.” Bakugou was only getting more annoyed.

“Whatever. It’s just business. If she can’t understand that, then we don’t need to be together,” he tried to convince himself. But that only hurt himself more.

“Whatever my ass. Then if you can’t be a good boyfriend and comfort her instead of making her feel insecure, then she doesn’t need you. She can find a better man who treats her good.”

“I do treat her good,” Right?

“Oh yes, I can tell,” Miruko said sarcastically. But in all seriousness, she knew he was hurting and she was trying to give advice from a woman’s perspective, but he is so stubborn and hard-headed that he doesn’t want to admit that he was in the wrong.

“Look, you let her go home like that right now, you’re not going to get her back. Go after her,” she advices on a serious note. Bakugou takes a moment to think but it’s all too much. He ruffles his hair and shoots up from the couch.

“Fuck this shit. I’m not doing this anymore,” he announces and storms out of the building. But not before shoving the metal jewelry in his pant pocket.

You didn’t know where you were going. You just walked and walked until you wind up somewhere. And god, you were so hungry. But you couldn’t go to that fancy restaurant that Bakugou had already made reservations for. God forbid he walks in while you were eating. And with another woman? How embarrassing. You couldn’t use his name or his fame anymore. You didn’t want to go back home. What if he shows up at your place? It probably wasn’t likely. He said he was done with you. You left the ring back with him. You guys were over. He wouldn’t show up uninvited. He has no reason to. You didn’t have money on you. You didn’t have any mode of transportation. The only think you had was your phone but the battery can only last so long. So you continued on walking until you hit a park and sat down on one of the benches. You were left alone to bathe in your thoughts until the set sun.

“Where the fuck did she go?” Bakugou mumbled to himself. He checked all the alleyways, in between streets, high and low, but he couldn’t spot you. No matter how he was frustrated he was feeling, he started to get nervous. He wondered if you were okay and safe right now. You hadn’t eaten all day. Wait. There’s no way…

“Hi. Reservation for 2. Under Bakugou,” Bakugou told the hostess. He arrived at the restaurant, in hopes that you came in. But when the hostess said that you hadn’t shown up, his shoulders deflated. Back to square one. So if you weren’t here, then where were you? Had you eaten yet?

Trying his luck, he went to your apartment, but after many attempts, you didn’t open the door. You could either by ignoring him or you weren’t home yet. Knowing you, you probably weren’t home. Then he was going to wait until you came home. Taking a seat next to your door, Bakugou waited. And he was going to wait until he could see your face.

You watched as happy couples and families walked by you, having the time of their lives. You smiled sadly seeing all their smiles and laughter. How you wish you could be like that. But now you don’t even know if or when that was going to be possible. That was all you wanted. Was to be happy. You didn’t want to be in this rabbit hole of sadness. You didn’t want anybody to pity you just because you were crying. But you did long for somebody to listen to you. For somebody to tell you that it was going to be okay and that you are loved. Love… You wanted someone to love you. He just wasn’t the one for you. Then who is? Will you ever find it? Was this your only chance and you ruined it all just because you couldn’t help but feel jealous?

Stupid.

Stupid (y/n).

You always ruin everything in your life. The one time you got something good, it’s gone in an instant. You knew it was too good to be true. But there’s no going back now. It already happened and now you have to move on.

By the time you noticed, the sun had already set and darkness fell upon you. You wanted to stay longer. You debated whether or not you were going to sleep on the park bench. But after recalling new articles of kidnappings happening around the country recently, you decided to go home.

It took you a while to go home. You walked as slow as you could, taking your sweet time returning back to your apartment. All you want to do is snuggle up in bed and go to sleep. You were so exhausted. Mentally, physically and emotionally. You just needed some rest and then you can worry more in the morning. You were coming up to your apartment and saw a person sitting on the floor what looked like in front of your apartment door. No. But there’s no way.

Blonde hair.

That was all it took for you to turn back, go down those stairs and back to the park. You couldn’t face him right now. You were already broken up so why was he there? He said all he needed to say so why was he there?

You thought you were being sneaky but Bakugou caught you. He saw you going back down those stairs and he immediately got up and chased after you.

“(y/n)!” he called out to you but you ignored him. The sound of his voice made your heart clench.

“(y/n)!” he called again, but louder. Again, you continued to ignore him.

“(y/n)!” he called for the last time, this time grabbing your arm. But you shook him as fast as he grabbed you.

“No, leave me alone,” you managed to say. Just keep on walking. Maybe if you walk long and far enough, he’ll give up. But he wasn’t giving up.

“(y/n), stop!” he grabbed you again, yet this time tighter so you couldn’t escape. Then he traps you in between him and the wall, forcing you to face him.

“Stop! Let me go! Leave me alone!” you cry. Your tear stained face and puffy eyes broke Bakugou’s heart. He did this to you. Fuck. He was the worst. You thrashed around, forcing him to let go, hitting him to push him away. Anything so he could get away from you.

Bakugou let you hit him. He deserved it. Every hit that you take at him, he deserved. Slowly but surely, he pulled you in for a hug. You were so drained that you let him. And as soon as you were in his embrace and your cheek hit his chest, you cried. You let it all out and didn’t stop. Bakugou didn’t say anything. He just held you, patting your head until you calmed down.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. He kissed the top of your head and rested his head there. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He continued to say. Your cries were muffled by being buried in his chest.

You held onto him tight, continuing to cry your heart out. You thought you were never going to see him again. You thought you were never going to hold him again. Or smell him. You world was crashing down on you but was slowly being put together again.

“Do you want to go inside?” he asks you softly. Your voice was too hoarse and sore from all the crying, so you nodded your head, not letting go of him. Bakugou got the hint and picked you up princess style and led you into the house. There was going to be a lot of talking happening soon in that tiny apartment. It was going to be a long night.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bakugou imagine #bnha imagine #bakugou angst #1000+ follower event

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dwaekibinnie · 3 years ago

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Satin tops

Lee know x female reader

Tags: smut, a little bit of fluff, idol au, lee know x stylist!reader, a whole lotta talk about satin tops(only for the purpose of this fic), established relationship.

Word count: 3275

Minors DO NOT interact

It was always Satin tops.

Satin tops illuminated his shoulders, his chests, his physique impeccably. Satin tops draping over his shoulders loosely while the long v neck lines threatening to plop loose on one side, was faultless.

Nothing matched up to him in a satin top. It gave his breathtaking body an angelic stance. A prince walking straight out of a romanticised fantasy.

Satin tops hugged his body like it was meant for him and him only. As if it was meant for his body, a command and his body followed suit.

It was always satin tops, you thought. And who had thought of it for the very first time, was also you. You felt proud.

A smile full of assurance and pride covered you face, ear to ear. And since it was always satin tops, today it'll be satin as well.

Stray kids with back to back comebacks was a tough job for everyone in division 1. The kids needed to get their part done while the rest of the staffs needed to get theirs.

It was a real hustle. But this is exactly what has been your dream for ever.

Fashion was your passion and stray kids just added fuel to the flame. Perfect body to midsized body to thin ones, they had it all. And it was just a plus point for you to get to design for all of their body types, their attires.

Not to mention, them being the number one boy band of fourth generation.

While you chose denim for a body type, leather for the other, you made sure to stick to satin for him. He could pull of all the other types, but satin made him stand out.

And when he dances. The satin very flowy, it hangs and move in a fluid, body-skimming manner. The material sightly clinging to his sweat-filled body, smoothing over his chest, it was magical indeed.

And since it was always satin tops, today you wanted to put him in satin as well.

The kids were just a few minutes away from getting dressed as they sipped on their coffee and munched on their food. You were busy hanging the dresses accordingly, when a small thud caught your attention.

It was him.

He stood there looking at all the types of clothes you made for this comeback, different types blended into one. And then his one caught his eyes. He smiled.

"You can never get enough of me in satin, can you?" He asks as if he doesn't already know the answer. You just smile slightly nodding at his question, hiding the well tinted red rosy cheeks.

You sure couldn't get enough of him, enough of him in satin. He walked up to his dress and picked up the pair, a deep v neck prussian blue top and the regular skinny pants, with a few bits and pieces of details.

Also a ribbon choker to match with it. He knew very well how you always put him in clothes you wanted to see him in, clothes that excited you seeing him in.

He knew so well and he wanted to tell you. Tell you how much he enjoyed you dressing him up in pieces you liked yourself for him, pieces you put so much thought into as to what will suit him.

He liked you toying with him through his costumes. There was a ring to it, he thought. And he couldn't deny that he wouldn't have liked it if it were someone else but you.

He wanted to tell you. Wanted to tell you 'keep doing what you do for me', thats how I like it anyways-

"Sorry what?" You asked bringing him out of his trance. He gave you the most confused look ever in the history of the world. "What?" He asked as to clarify but a part of him kept telling him not to.

"You said you uh wanted me to keep doing what I do for you. Something about you liking it like that......?" Minho realised. He wasn't thinking it to himself, he had spoken out loud.

Cussing himself he scratches the back of his neck, "Forget I even said anything." You were curious. So curious you almost wanted to tell him no. But you didn't. And listened to what he said.

Minho rushes out of the room grabbing his clothes as you smiled to yourself. If what you thought he meant by those words is right, you might get to touch him, caress his face, smooth his cheeks and what not.

"What happened to him?" Jisung asks watching a flustered Minho walk out the room. "I wish I knew,"

Jisung shrugged to your reply before he as well took his costume.

Soon one by one, all of them take their costumes and in no time they're all dressed. Minho walks out in a rather simple costume of them all yet looking like the one standing out the most.

Maybe it's cause you're so biased by him, you think.

And he makes direct eye contact with you the while he gets out fully clothed. He knows you've been waiting eagerly to see how he looks in yet again another one of your creations.

And there's no doubt about it, he looks absolutely ethereal.

Just how you had imagined. Just how you imagined the piece of cloth to elucidate his body, it did. The pant itself had its own details that designers might notice and be in awe of, but to you it was the top.

Minho after he's done practically staring you down, walks up towards your direction and you swore you heart skipped a million beats. He finally settles down before you handing you the ribbon choker you had for him asking you to tie it for him.

And you do. He turns around for you to do so and you swiftly put the ribbon around his neck tying it tight enough to not hurt him but also to avoid falling off.

The moment your hand softly caresses against his skin after you're done tying it, Minho felt his cheeks burn up. He was never the type to ask for assistance unless and until he really needed to.

Right now as well, he didn't need to but he asked you of all people for help. It could've been Chan the only one he asks help from most of the time, but he wanted it to be you.

And after you're done, he turns around, "How is it?" He asks referring to his costume. He knows, very well you'll get fluttered by the question but he still asked wanting to get your raw reaction.

You wanted to joke around like how you two usually did, but for some reason you wanted him know what you really thought.

Maybe its because of the incident earlier, but you didn't care and decided to be frank with him. "Satin looks the best on you," you said as you slowly traces his shoulder.

Minho was surprised, mesmerised almost. He wasn't expecting you to actually give a raw reaction but you did. And he liked it. "Thanks," he replied in a haste and left to get his makeup done.

Minho could get really shy sometimes. But that's rare to see cause he expresses it less. Its almost nice to see him get shy and giddy and you loved it that you were the reason he got extremely shy today.

After all of them were done getting ready, now it's time to go to the first venue for stage. As you all hopped in and drove away to attend heaps of tight-knit schedule.

It was the last stage. You stood behind the cameras observing the kids and their dance, when Minho caught your attention. The v neck you dded to the top was a little deeper than the usual ones.

The concept needed to be sexy and thus you added a deep v line. And it hung nicely around his mid chest. Chest covered in sweat, glistening with all the stage lights.

Thats when Minho catches you staring. You don't notice but he realises whats got you so red. And he concocted a plan in his mind right at that moment.

The last stage took a few multiple recordings. And soon in the blink of an eye, it all ends. The whole day of tight filled schedule ends. Everyone returns to the green room, including the staff members.

While everyone was getting ready to pack up and leave, you were also in a secluded room taking care of your works, when Minho walked in. With a water bottle in hand he acted as if he is here to just chit chat.

That's also what you thought at first. But then he gets closer to you closing the door. Your activities halt. You look up at him, so close.

"Can I ask you something?" he asks in a rather teasing tone. And you knew this might not end well. Either way you nod for him. "Did you always do this on purpose?"

"...do what?" You ask truly confused, when he points at his chest. Your eyes intuitively follows but you look up immediately, flustered by both his question and action.

"Don't act shy. You were having a really nice time ogling at my chest back there at stage." You mentally face palmed yourself. You were so busy ogling him down you didn't even notice him looking at you.

You were out of words. So thrown of balance, you didn't know how to react, what to say, where to look. And by the time you were ready to say something, or at least act less flustered, Minho had alresdy cornered you against your work table.

"Now say, on purpose?" You hated to admit but you were really up for some excitement and thus you answered truly. "Mhm. All the time it was purposefully made this way."

Minho liked it, liked your confidence as he agreed with a light hum. "So you like seeing me like this? In this uh.....sexy concept?"

He was at this time at least expecting you to back down. But you didn't rather you replied with a nod and a teasing hum this time. "So that's what our stylist is up to huh? I assume 'sexy' is your favourite concept hm?"

"I'm pretty sure you can already tell," you said taking in a sharp breath that enraptured Minho getting his grip on the table a lot tighter than before.

He was resisting himself. Resisting the urge to pin you against a wall so bad, pining the urge to make you remember his taste and his taste only. The look of hunger he emitted made you realise he might be holding himself back.

So you decided to take the lead. "Would you mind..." you began catching his attention as he look up at you. "Would you mind if I uh.....touched you?" You said pointing towards his chest.

And boy did Minho loose his cool. The lust, the hunger, the cravings in his eyes radiating more than ever. And he leans down towards your ear and whispers, "Sure."

Your heart halted, you breathe hitched, your hands all shaky and your knees, your knees were this close to giving up. Yet you stood you ground and slowly bought your hand upto to sweat glistening chest.

And the moment your hand brushed against his skin, you see him go weak. His eyes follow your hand movements, as you slowly caress his chest as if you're touching a fragile sculpture.

Your hands, not only do they stroke his chest but also moves up to his shoulders to his neck. And thats when Minho looses it. Picking you up in a rush and sits you down on the table.

But before he does anything stupid from which there's no return, he speaks up. "You gotta stop doing this to me. You gotta stop putting me in backless, v necks, tight leather for you to look at me like you want to devour me right then and there."

Minho had caught on. All the tries you gave at hiding your feelings for him went to waste. He been knew for a long long time. "And what if I really do? What then?"

Minho looks shocked for a moment before an evil laugh escapes his lips and he leans in closer, "Then be it." And he wastes no time diving down, closing the gap that was once prominent between you two.

His tender lips touch yours. You hands snake up to his neck and his fingertips traces it way to your hips digging deep. You gasp to the sudden action but it gets muted by the kiss.

His force was strong and the way he was pushing you down taking all your control away from you, made you dizzy. But you liked it. The feeling of delightful bliss had hit you and none of you wanted to stop or take a break.

His tongue finding its way inside your mouth dancing with your own and you let the heat rise to your cheeks. And the last push he gave against you, you felt his growing hard on pressing against you.

You quickly pulled back from the kiss and looked down at his crotch first then at him. "Wanna get out of here?" Your proposal did him no help as a groan passed his lips and he agreed.

You packed up your things quickly and he got changed quickly as well. And soon you two were gone out of sight.

Upon reaching the dorm, he quickly opened the door and once you were inside, he grabbed your wrist and took you to his room. Luckily the others were supposed to be at the company so there'd be no one for about an hour at least.

Meaning you two had the whole house to yourselves.

You walk in, clueless, looking around his room when you felt his arms wrap around you waist and he swiftly turns you around. Not a second wasted as he locks his lips with yours yet again.

Minho got desperate as the time passed and so did you. As you two wasted no time in getting to feel each other in your embraces. In between the kiss, you hold Minho and pushed him to the bed.

The kiss breaks off, Minho looking slightly disappointed. But once you climb on top of him, sitting on his lap and grind you hips against his crotch, his disappointment flies off.

His hands snake around your hips holding you, guiding you against him in a rhythmic manner. With every single stroke you feel you panties grow wetter and wetter.

You tug onto Minho's tee in and attempt to ask him to take his tee off and he does. While you take off yours as well. And your eyes shamelessly, lustfully roams around his bare body.

His toned muscles, slightly sweaty chest to the croak of his neck, everything so appealing that you can't help but want to feel him, touch him. And you do.

While he keeps his eyes locked at your gorgeous face, your hands wander about his body. When your hands carelessly brushes over one of his nipple, he couldn't help but mewl at the sensation.

Once you find his sensitive spot your arousal increases to the idea of pleasuring him. You get off his lap tracing his nipples in the process to which he flinched every now and then.

And you can't help but smile ar the thought that you are the reason he's sensitive like this. Once you've gotten of his lap you give him time to completely get rid of amy other article of clothing on his body as you follow suit.

You settle down back on his lap tracing your dainty fingers against his well grown bulge to which he leaves a needy whimper. Your smile of content, he catches on to.

And soon he flips you over laying you on the bed as he hovers on top of you. His lips finds its way back on your body as he carefully plays with you core.

Gently rubbing it to get you lubricated for what's to come next. It didn't take him long since you were practically dripping already. So Minho wastes no time to put two digits into your sex.

And boy you couldn't contain the moan anymore. Minho liked it. It sounded like music to his ears every time he'd twist his fingers in a different direction and you pleasure sounds would change.

He liked the look of you beneath him all quivering from pleasure that he's making you feel. The heat rising to his chest when he realises he finally gets to implement what he's been wanting for a while now.

To have you close to him, naked bodies skin touching, warmth being exchanged, thats what he wanted everytime he'd find you staring at him with lust in your eyes.

Today being the day he finally gets to execute that, has him feeling on top of the world. Minho soon takes out his fingers getting a long lick of your taste from his fingers and positions himself at your core.

And in a brisk movement, he bottoms down on you. You hand scratching his forearm as you let yourself get used to the stretch, a foreign feeling but a one you desired.

Minho kisses your temple as he stays still letting the both you get used to it. He wanted to this with you, but he wanted to be careful. He wanted to make sure you feel every single bit of pleasure he offers you.

And you did. Every single moment he laid eyes on you made your heart beat a little faster. When you get settled, you tap on his arm asking him to move and he obliges.

Quickly enough his hips turned to a great driving force, pushing himself onto you with great need and desire. He kept grinding against you with a purpose.

Like every motion of his body is by design to accomplish one goal. Your thoughts had become close to none. Having his lips on every inch of your body while his hips lined inside you perfectly made you like that.

With every increasing pace you gripped tighter against his arm. Until you feel the knot in your stomach tighten and snap. Before you could even let him know, you cum all over him tightening around his cock.

And in no time did he lets loose as well. Taking himself out of you he lets out on your stomach as you watch his face contort in pleasure. Sweat dripping from head to toe both of you breathing heavy from all the tiredness.

Minho plops down next to you, but his eyes never leave you. He couldn't focus his eyes on anything but you when you find him staring.

"What...?" You ask a little embarrassed to have him staring at you with such love. "Did you enjoy yourself?" He asks. For him it was way too much important to know if you enjoyed it or not.

Cause that's what he wants anyways. When you giggle and turn to face him wrapping your arms around his waist he gets the answer, "Of course I did. It was better than what I imagined."

His ears perked up as he heard "imagined". He felt reassured as to know that he wasn't the only one who thought about it.

You couldn't believe yourself, believe the situation right at hand. One satin top and this is what it lead to.

#stray kids #kpop #stray kids x stay #skz bang chan #skz lee know #skz changbin #skz hyunjin #skz hard hours #skz felix #skz seungmin #skz in生 #leeknow x reader

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

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Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 1)

summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself. except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.

word count: 2875

warnings: smut... sort of (oral f receiving), voyeurism/exhibitionism (kinda?), touch of angst, lots of pining and awkwardness, jealous bucky being jealous, alcohol use (reader gets drunk)

Nothing annoyed you like being surrounded by stylists and being primped and prodded for hours at a time. It made you feel claustrophobic to be touched so much: makeup artists only inches from your face, tailors watching you change, hairstylists nearly spraying you in the eye or burning you on the forehead every few minutes.

Not to mention how uncomfortable it was to actually be in the whole get-up once they were done.

But, such was the nature of a red carpet event. This one was going to be particularly bland because it wasn't even a premiere or awards event but a launch party for a perfume campaign. How lame is that? It's one of those things that really only exists so that there can be pictures of it to put in a magazine, because they're always running out of good pictures of celebrities to publish.

Finally all dolled up to the point that you didn't look even very much like yourself anymore, your assistant accompanied you downstairs and into your driveway where your car was waiting; and, more importantly, its driver and your driver, Bucky.

He was a gruff sort of guy; certainly a man of few words and many brooding glares. Sometimes you thought he didn't like you— like maybe he resented your fame or something— but then he'd turn around and be so sweet all of a sudden and you didn't know what to think. For one, he demanded to open the door for you every time you got out of the car. Sometimes he even extended his hand for you to grab on to, which was especially useful for red carpet events when you were usually wearing skinny heels that were impossible to balance on.

Such was the case tonight as well, and you smiled up at him as he helped you out of the car and up towards the steps of the venue.

"Thank you," you smiled at him, and he barely smiled back.

"Have a good night, madam," he suggested, a formal stuffiness to the way he addressed you.

You nodded, "You too!" That made you pause, though, because you weren't sure what his night would entail at all. "Say, what is it that you do when I'm at an event like this?"

He seemed confused by your question. "Um, I sit in the car and wait until you're ready to leave."

Guilt seared in your chest and you frowned. "That's it? You don't, like, go out? Catch a movie?"

"Nope. That would prevent me from doing my other job, which is watching the points of entry to make sure there aren't any threats to security going in."

"Right…" you trailed off. "You could always come in, you know, grab some free drinks and stuff."

"I thought you didn't want any of your team following you around at events."

"Yeah, don't follow me around, just mingle and kill some time!"

Bucky shook his head. "If I'm not there as your driver or as your security, then I'm not there."

You shrugged. "Suit yourself, but please feel free to, like, get some food or whatever you wanna do while I'm in there! Don't just wait on me!"

He smiled, but it looked a little rehearsed. "Thank you, madam."

You realized he'd been holding your hand through the entire conversation, cause you'd asked him your question midway through getting out of the car. Awkwardly, you finally dropped his hand and waved goodbye, escorting yourself up the last few steps and into the door.

God, he must think I'm such a freak.

God, she must think I'm such a freak.

Bucky munched on the sandwich he'd had delivered (yes, to the car, how else was he supposed to get it?) as he dutifully watched the entrance. Against your advice, he had every intention of just sitting around and waiting for you, but he wasn't bored; he had a Mets game on the radio to keep him company.

"— top of the third, bases loaded, DeGrom is at the plate with one swing left aaaaaand… he strikes out!"

"Shit," Bucky grumbled to himself around a mouthful of pastrami.

Glancing up, he saw someone stumbling out of the party: squinting, he realized it was you. He looked at the clock with a furrowed brow, noticing it was a little earlier than he'd thought you'd leave, but then he saw that there was someone with you… a guy.

Bucky set his sandwich down and turned the key in the ignition as he watched you pull your phone out of your clutch— ostensibly to text him to bring the car around, but he was already ahead of you, quickly exiting the parking lot and circling the building so he could pull up at the steps. He was about to get out to open the door for you but this random guy did it instead, before tumbling in after you.

"That tickles!" you protested with a giggle as your new friend started to kiss your neck, his hands all over you before Bucky had even gotten the car moving.

You were too drunk and distracted to notice that the partition was still open. Of course Bucky had considered closing it, in fact he wanted more than anything to close it so he wouldn't have to see this, but some sick part of his brain needed to see it. How else could he know if something went wrong and he had to get back there and stop it? How else would he keep you safe?

How else would he get to find out how you sound when you're being touched like this?

He couldn't see too well with it being the middle of the night and all, but every time he drove past a streetlamp or particularly bright neon sign, the colorful glow would shine in and cast light over your neck where your head had fallen back in pleasure; or your collarbones, exposed where your dress had been pulled down; or your chest, rising quickly with the speed of your panting breaths.

Ogling you in the rearview mirror made him feel like a total creep, but it satisfied a bit of the urge he'd been feeling ever since he started driving you. He wasn't actually a driver, at least not usually; he was more or less your bodyguard at this point, but you were really adamant about having a small detail and so that was why he was working double-duty tonight… and why he'd been doing so for almost three months now.

"Baby," you gasped, and his eyes shot right back to your reflection; you were writhing against the seat, and he could just barely see the top of the guy's head where it was buried between your legs. You took your bottom lip between your teeth, lips curling into a relaxed smile. His cock was not only hard but throbbing at this point, as if that was going to do him any good. He barely ever got to look at you, and he knew he would never, ever be able to touch you— beyond holding your hand as you stepped out of the car, at least. Whenever he did that, he imagined for a moment that he wasn't your driver at all but your date, that he would get to keep your hand as he guided you down the red carpet with him. Not that he wanted any of the attention that you got, of course, but at the same time he did like the idea of all those photographers snapping pictures of his arm around your waist, or you looking up at him with your hand on his chest. They'd all run stories wondering what a beautiful, successful, massively talented woman like you was doing with a guy like him, but he wouldn't find the energy to care about crap like that if he had you all to himself.

Another whimper from you pulled him out of his daydream, reminding him to focus on the road as best he could. He knew you would hate him if you knew that he'd thought about you like that. Or if you knew about all those times he'd checked in on you while you slept at night and lingered a bit too long. Or if you knew that he had rewatched that one sex scene you'd done in your last movie about a thousand times. It always broke his heart to see you underneath some other guy (his name was either Dermot Mulroney or Dylan McDermott or possibly Dermot McDermott?) and yet it turned him on like nothing else to watch you immersed in pleasure. Similarly, now, he couldn't stand knowing it was someone else making you moan the way he was hearing, but it was the best he was ever gonna get.

"Oh god," you sighed, "fuck, yes, yes, oh my god yes—"

His grip tightened on the steering wheel and it must have been the noise of the leather stretching that made you notice him; as if every dream and nightmare of his was coming true at once, your gaze met his in the reflection of the rearview.

He was so screwed, and he was totally going to get fired tomorrow, but he couldn't look away. Your eyes were like dark magic the way they pulled him in, kept him locked on you as his face started to burn so hot it could cook an egg.

Staring you down, he saw your mouth fall slack as your hands reached down to grab your date's hair and tighten into fists. Shivers shot down his spine as he imagined the way it would feel if you pulled his hair like that.

The longer you kept looking at him, the more a very dangerous thought danced in the back of his mind…

What if she wants me to watch?

Which, even more concerningly, started to slowly morph into another idea…

What if she wants me?

He was sure you were coming. It wasn't obvious; you didn't say anything, didn't moan too loud, didn't scream or sob or call out any names (which made it easier to pretend it was for him) but he could tell. Your swollen lips were parted silently as he watched your breath catch in your chest, and your hands clenched around fistfuls of hair. What he would give for you to pull his hair like that, and come for him like that— except he wouldn't have stopped there, unlike your current companion who was already moving back up your body to kiss you hungrily.

He'd always thought you had really pretty hands, and they looked pretty good sliding over the back of this guy's suit jacket, but he liked them best when they gently pushed him off. "We're almost there," you mumbled as Bucky turned the car into the driveway, using his fob to open the gate.

Once he'd come to a stop outside your door and turned off the engine, the three of you exited and stood up as you yawned and stretched.

"You'll take Jack here home, right?" you asked Bucky quickly.

"It's Jake…" the man corrected with hesitance.

"Right, Jake," you smiled, "you'll take him to his place, right?"

Bucky gave the guy a smile dripping with gloating contempt, loving the disappointed look he was wearing as he realized he wasn't going to be spending the night in your bed. "It'd be my pleasure," he announced coldly.

"Great, thanks," you sighed. Standing on your tiptoes to give the guy a kiss on the cheek and a pat on the shoulder, you thanked him for a great night and made your way into the house.

Jake looked around in confusion for a moment before getting back in the car along with Bucky, sighing and running his fingers through his hair.

"What address am I going to?"

"Uh, 333 15th Street, in Brooklyn," the guy replied, pausing to let out a soft but incredulous laugh as the car began to move. "Level with me, man: does she… do this kind of thing, a lot? You know: bring guys over, make it seem like something's gonna… happen, but then just send ‘em back home and never call again?"

With a silent glare, Bucky rolled up the partition.

You heard the front door, even from your current location of the shower upstairs, and knew Bucky was home— okay, not exactly ‘home’ since he didn't leave here full-time, but home in the sense that he was in your home and in the place he would be staying tonight. You just hoped he'd actually stopped the car before kicking Jake out; he never cared much for when you had guys over or really just interacted with guys at all, because of the "security risks" or whatever.

Next, you heard him coming up the stairs and passing by your door. "Hey, Bucky, you out there?" you called to him.

"Yeah, what is it?" he answered through the door. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I just—" you stopped when you heard the crinkling of paper. "What is that? Do you have food?"

"Um, yeah," he answered.

Your stomach growled; the event had only had tiny hors d'oeuvres, and the alcohol in your system enhanced your desire for a midnight snack. "What kinda food?"

"It's a sandwich— well, what's left of one: I was eating it while I waited for you."

"Are you gonna finish it?" you asked curiously.

"No, I was thinking I'd put it in the fridge for tomorrow."

You paused a bit before asking, "Can I have it?"

"Yeah, sure, you can get it in the morning—" he began.

"No, now!" you clarified.

There was a pause before he responded. "Right now? In the shower?"

"Yeah, just bring it in here!"

"I-I'll let you finish showering first—" he stammered.

"No, Bucky," you whined, "just come in here! I'm hungry!"

Another pause before he finally opened the door, his blurry figure visible through the steam-covered frosted glass.

"What's on it?" you asked as you washed the last of your shampoo out of your hair.

"It's pastrami on rye with jalapeños, fresh mozzarella, pesto and some sort of spicy aioli or something."

"Ooh, come to mama," you purred as you reached over the top of the door with opening-and-closing grabby hands, squeeing with glee when he placed the wax paper package in your grasp.

"Okay, enjoy your drunken shower sandwich," he congratulated grimly, about to turn and leave.

"No, wait, where'd you get this?" you asked as you leaned out of the stream of hot water to unwrap your bounty.

"Uh, you know the deli on 8th and Columbus?"

"You went all the way out there?"

"No, I had it delivered."

You snorted with laughter. "Couldn't leave me alone for even a minute, huh?"

"Well, I fully intended on leaving you alone for this shower."

But you didn't really notice that comment because you'd just taken a bite and couldn't stop yourself from moaning loudly around it. "Oh my god, Bucky, this is so good!"

He cleared his throat. "Uh, glad you like it."

"You have good taste in sandwiches!"

"I think the word for 'taste in sandwiches' is just 'taste,’” he pointed out, his smirk audible in his voice.

"Can we go to this place tomorrow and you can order for me?"

"We can do whatever you want tomorrow," he relented.

"If you drive, I'll pay,” you offered.

"I always drive. And you always pay,” he pointed out.

You frowned, not visible to him through the steamy glass. "I do?"

"You pay my salary, so, yeah…"

You laughed, a little too hard. "You're so smart!"

"Sure,” he replied quickly.

“Okay, I’m almost done in here,” you informed him.

“With the sandwich or the shower?”

You laughed with a little snort, which would’ve embarrassed sober you. “Both!”

“Okay, I’ll leave you to it then,” he replied, starting to go back out the door.

“See you tomorrow, Bucky,” you waved even though he couldn’t see it.

“I don’t know that I will,” he admitted, “you’ll probably be hungover and lock yourself in your room all day.”

“Hmm, possibly,” you agreed as you pondered that. “Then I guess just ‘goodnight,’ and I’ll see you when I see you.”

“Goodnight,” he replied and stepped out of the bathroom— you could hear him go downstairs and shut the door to his room, and you glanced down at the last bite of your/his sandwich with a smile.

You must have gotten in bed at some point, cause that was the last thing you could really remember before you woke up a bit before noon, bright orange sunlight shining directly on your face where it rested on the pillow. You groaned and turned over, feeling like your brain was too big for your skull. You sat up when you saw a menagerie of unfamiliar items on your nightstand. A bottle of pedialyte, a bottle of Fiji water, a few aspirin, an orange and a banana waited for you in a pile, with a little piece of paper sitting in front which you read.

Hope you’re feeling alright, these might help in the meantime. -B

You smiled, twisting open the Fiji and taking a sip. Bucky always took such good care of you, even in ways he didn’t need to. What would you do without him?

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x y/n

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goldencherryhazz · 4 years ago

Text

And the Grammy Goes to....

I AM SOO PROUD OF HIM, I HONESTLY HAVE NO WORDS 🥲🥲🥲

(not proofread, notes would be much appreciated,pls don’t copy my work, hope you enjoy!!! 🤍)

Grammy!Harry x famous!gf reader

Warnings: smut, fluff, swearing.

WC: 3k

You and Harry were currently backstage at the Grammys, one of the biggest nights in the music industry, you honestly couldn’t believe you were here alongside him, even though you had walked many red carpets before by yourself and with Harry, being a well know singer yourself, having written 2 successful albums, but being alongside your 3 time grammy nominated boyfriend felt surreal. And to top things off you were about to watch open the show.

‘You okay baby’ he asked through the slightly ajar bathroom door where he was currently getting changed into his second outfit of the night after walking the red carpet, he wanted to surprise you with this one. ‘Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that, you’re the one who’s performing, virtually, in front of thousands and thousands of people’ you said from your perch on the couch. You were wearing a very pretty and expensive dress which you planned on not getting dirty or creased.

‘A little I guess, but I think I’ll be fine once I get out there I think’ he replies a bit breathless shuffling around probably trying to get whatever he was wearing on.

‘I’m dressed now, need you to close your eyes love’

‘Okay, they’re closed’ you replied, thinking about how little time it took him to get changed, getting more excited every second, and she had every right to be. When he comes through and stands right in front of you and tells you to open your eyes you’re met with Harry clad in a black leather suit jacket which no shirt underneath, with matching trousers. His toned abs graced with his butterfly and chest on full display, a green boa wrapped loosely round his neck.

Her eyes were wide, her mouth hung open in complete admiration ‘how do I look baby?’ he asks twirling round for her, she stood up placing her hands on his bear chest once he was stationary, then quickly moving her hands to his jaw pulling him in for a teeth clashing kiss, their tongues exploring each other’s mouths, he pulls back surprised by her sudden actions ‘I’m guessing you like it then’

‘You look fucking amazing H’ you could feel your panties getting damp, ‘I think I like it a little to much’ your lips grazing his. He hummed sensing where this was going, but not stopping at all, quickly ooking at the clock on the wall behind him ‘well we’ve get 20 minutes until I’ve got to be on stage, gives us plenty of time’

‘Are you suggesting we fuck in this dressing room right now, what if we get caught?’ You said still starting to grind your hips against his hardening bulge anyway.

‘If I remember correctly, that’s why locks on doors were invented lovie’ he says taking a few small steps towards the door of the dressing room and flicking the lock shut, then coming back to you ‘so what do you say angel, gotta be quick though’ you didn’t say anything, practically pouncing on him, gripping the green boa gently unwrapping it from his neck, before throwing it, not caring where it landed, kissing him again hoping he got the message, which he did loud and clear ‘let’s get this dress off you first’ he says, you quickly agreed as he reached behind you to unzip it, the dress falling off your shoulders to reveal you breasts, having opted to not wear a bra tonight, you stepped out of the garment before draping it over the back of the couch.

Once you had done, Harry gripped your hips, bringing you closer to him, bringing his head down to your chest wrapping his lips around your gardening nipple, you moaned out at the feeling, he does the same to the other before kissing and sucking hickeys onto you collarbones and neck, which you knew you would have to cover up later.

‘Jump’ he said between breathless kisses, which you instantly complied, wrapping your legs around his waist, gripping onto his shoulders, his hands gripping your ass, he manoeuvred around the dressing room until he got to the counter where various products laid, he swiped them off not caring if they broke, already making a promise to himself to replace them if they did. He placed you down, your ass making contact with the cold surface. He shimmies your panties down your legs, the sight of your pussy making him impossibly harder, he pressed a quick kiss to you clit, before going to undo his trousers, and shimmying them down his legs, his cock springing free as he had decided on no boxers, that there was no time for foreplay you both silently agreed. He then start tugging at the lapels of the leather jacket before you objected ‘can you keep it on’

He smirks ‘you want me to fuck your in this leather jacket baby’

‘Yes, fuck yes’ your eyes oogling the sight of his cock against his belly beading pre-cum ‘well your wish is my command’ he knew he probably shouldn’t, not wanting to get it sweaty or anything, but by the look on your face and the sight of you pussy pulsating around nothing, he knew this wouldn’t take long.

He gives no warning when he slams into you, making you scream out in pleasure, before he quickly kissed you to muffle your moans, not wanting to get caught, he sets a quick and hard pace, practically fucking you into the counter, his hands gripping you hips so hard it would probably leave bruises, you dig your heels into his ass wanting him as close as possible, feeling the smooth leather against you skin sending shivers up your spine.

‘Fuck you feel so good’ he groans burying his face into your neck, your hands tangling into his curls, quickly grabbing the opportunity to suck a hickey onto his neck, which you knew he would be annoyed at because he was going to be out on stage in 15 minutes, but you loved marking him up so everyone could see.

‘H I’m not going to l-last much longer’ throwing your head back, your arms behind you going weak from holding yourself, your fingers trying to dig into the counter, his thrusts hitting your special spot every time.

‘Me neither baby’ he felt like he was in cloud 9, the only sound in the room was moans snd skin hitting skin, feeling himself on the brink already, as your cunt was clenched around his length. He brings his hand down to your clit, his ringed fingers slightly shaky as he starts to rub deep circles on your clit to get you there.

‘Holy shit, I’m gonna cum’ you moaned ‘yeah, cum with me angel, cum around my cock’

Both moaning in unison you release around each other, his hot cum painting your walls, mixing with your juices, you swear you stopped breathing, your eyes continuously rolling to the back of your head as you ride out your high. Harry’s eyes were wired shut, his grip on your hips not faltering, mouth hung open. As your arms were about to give way Harry places his hand on your back, almost knowing that was going to happen. You look at him, pushing back some of the hair that had fallen into his face. ‘that was so fucking good, legs are shaking’ he slurs out, almost as if he was drunk on his high. ‘Yeah, fuck don’t know if I’ll be able to walk’ he slowly pulls out, his cum flowing out of you, he ducks his head down to clean you up, you legs spasming from the sensitivity.

He leans up to kiss you, tasting yourself and his cum.

‘Did so good for me baby, I’m gonna see if I can take this home’ he says pointing at the jacket.

‘And why’s that H’ you asks

‘Just think it’s going to come in handy one day’ says making you smile because you already knew the answer.

You quickly look at the clock ‘C’mon we gotta get ready, your on in 8 minutes’ getting up from the counter on shaky legs and walking to put your pants and dress back on, he chuckles at his girl desperate to see him out on stage again.

He gets dressed grabbing his boa that was discarded on the floor, pulling his shoes on, walking through to you, seeing you struggle with the zip of your dress, he goes over sliding it up, pressing a kiss to your back ‘have I told you how pretty you look today’ he asks as you touch up your hair and makeup. ‘Only about 10 times’ he gasps in fake shock ‘only 10, I need to keep up don’t I baby’ this makes you laugh. ‘You look pretty today too bub’ you say, but soon enough you cute little moment is interrupted by three knocks on the door and Jeff saying ‘Harry your on in 3 minutes, get your ass out here’ this makes you laugh because Jeff or anyone for that matter are oblivious to what you’ve just been doing.

///

Soon enough Harry is out on stage. Any nerves he had had dissipated. He was high in adrenaline from being buried in your cunt barely 10 minutes ago, shaking his ass and dancing around the stage, he gripped the boa throwing it to the floor, replicating you actions form the dressing room, you knew the world would be going crazy for him right now, singing the lyrics to watermelon sugar, you were in awe. To be honest you had gotten a little horny again from watching him but you knew that could be dealt with later. Most of all you were so proud, he was opening the Grammys for godsakes, how couldn’t you be, your pretty sure he would be able to see you smiling even through your mask.

He sings the last notes, thanking everyone before running off stage to you, ‘I’m so proud of you baby you say wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. ‘thankyou angel’ he says, over the past few days you had showered him in love and affection, and he had to admit that he was loving the attention. Harry quickly gets changed again into the outfit he was wearing on the red carpet, your stylist has asked if you wanted multiple outfits, but you said no because you wanted tonight to be completely focused on Harry and to be fair you loved the dress you were wearing it was so comfortable, so you didn’t really want to change out of it anyway.

After that Harry joined you again in the side of the stage again, where you watched various people perform, most being really good friends, like Billie, Taylor, Dua, Maren Morris, Dababy and so many more. Soon enough you were sat round a table with Harry and Jeff, one of his categories getting closer and closer to being announced, it was weird you had to say, doing the Grammys during a pandemic, without a whole audience bringing a whole lot of energy to the entire thing. You guess you just couldn’t wait for everything to be safe and get back to normal, you wanted to go on tour and sing your heart out.

You could tell Harry was getting a little nervous he had a hand on your thigh and he squeezed it every so often, almost using it as a stress toy. ‘Don’t worry, everything’s going to be fine bub’ you whispered in his ear, he smiled at you comforting words, his head now resting on you shoulder and he held you hand under the table, as you both watched the show and clapped and congratulated people on their wins.

Soon enough the nominees for the category ‘best pop solo performance’ were being announced, Harry head instantly snapped up from your shoulder, Jeff grabbing hold of his shoulder, you let out a little squeal when his name popped up in the screen. Getting more and more excited.

The presenter starts to open the envelope, you were literally on the edge of your seat, Harry’s leg bouncing up and down.

‘And the Grammy goes to...Harry Styles’

You slapped your hand over you mouth, ‘you did it baby’ you practically screamed. He was pulled in for a hug by Jeff, taking off his mask in the process. The look on his face held shock and greatfulness. He pulls away from Jeff, pulling you straight into his arms, you swear you’ve never squeezed him tighter ‘I’m so fucking proud of you baby’ you say, tears in your eyes. He didn’t respond he was lost for words, which you understood, he pulled your mask down so he could catch you lips in a quick kiss, before pulling it back over your nose again. ‘Go on, get up there, go get your Grammy’ which he does.

He walks up to the stage, and you don’t know why but you stand up, your hands are over your chest as he thanks Jeff, Mitch and everyone who he made watermelon sugar with. You see him rubbing his eyes trying not to get emotional. He thanked his label and his fans especially, by now your tears are falling down your face you just had so much love for this man, you were over the moon for him.

‘And finally I would like to thank my wonderful girlfriend y/n who you all know very well. You have been there for me through everything, you have been my support, my muse, you’ve believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself. I honestly would be the person I am today without you, i love you baby’

You knew everyone was staring at you, but you didn’t care at this moment in time, it felt like it was only you and Harry in the room.

He finally finishes his speech, grabbing his well deserved award, coming off the stage where he was bombarded with congratulations and praise from people left right and centre. He was whisked away to do interviews and conferences with you alongside him, you just looked at him awestruck when he was answering various questions, you being asked some yourself.

He had become very clingy after his win not wanting you out of his sight, touching you in anyway possible, holding your hand, having his arm wrapped round you, he even at one point wrapped his boa around your neck, with it being long enough for the two of you to wear, but didn’t end well for obvious reasons, but it did nearly have you on the floor laughing.

‘I’m so proud of you H’ you said for about the billionth time in the past half hour. ‘Thankyou angel, and I really do mean that when I say it’

‘I know you do H’ you say sweetly

‘And I mean it when I say I wouldn’t be the person I am today without you’

You could cry at that, but instead you wrap him in another tight hug, burying your head into the crook of his neck leaving a kiss there.

///

A little while later it was the afterparty, a very small one fire to the pandemic, but still and afterparty. Harry’s other category that he’d been nominated for had been announced, but he didn’t win, the Grammy going to Dua, which you were very happy about. At this point in time you didn’t care how many Grammys or awards he won, and Harry didn’t either the biggest award for him was having such supportive fans, he felt incredibly lucky to have the job he had and the people he had around him, being able to create music and tour the world. He also felt very lucky to have you by his side, he knows it’s cheesy but it was true.

So there you were catching up with old friends congratulating people on their wins, having a few drinks, you had the best time, you swear the smile never left Harrys lips, it was honestly the best being able to have normal conversations and just have lots of fun with some of your friends and some of your idols.

Soon enough it was home time, which was also very unusual because if there wasn’t a pandemic right now, there was no such thing as an allocated home time after the Grammys. You and Harry bid your goodbyes to Jeff who was going in a different car to go home. You and Harry piled into the backseat of your designated car, Harry telling the driver the address to you two’s house, he was kind of exhausted but felt like he was on top of Mount Everest, he was just so unbelievably happy, he pulled out his phone seeing messages from all kinds of people congratulating him, deciding he’ll respond to them later.

He once again pulls you into him, resting his head on your chest, your fingers card through his hair, before landing on his cheek rubbing up and down it.

‘Hey baby you won a Grammy’ you whisper to him, he looks up at you, your eyes getting lost in his.

‘I know, still doesn’t feel real, he pouts his lips silently asking for a kiss, in which you happily give him, pressing your lips to his before attacking his face, pressing tiny kissing all over it, making him laugh, which then made you laugh.

Ya know, I don’t know what I like hearing more, you moaning ‘I’m gonna cum’ or ‘and the Grammy goes to Harry styles’ he teases

‘Heyyyy’ she said in fake offence

‘I’m only joking’ he snickers ‘it will always be you baby’

‘I love you bub’ you hummed happily

‘I love you too angel’

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k-llama-llama · 4 years ago

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New Girl Crush

Everglow AU: 7th member

Mya/Enya x Everglow

Mya has a visit from her rap-buddy....and is not a fan of Everglow’s reaction.

A/N:i hope this can be a welcome distraction on this trying day. ALSO CHECK OUT MY PATREON FOR ACCESS TO EXCLUSIVE CONTENT AND EARLY ACCESS (patreon.com/kllamallama)

Requests are OPEN!!!

Masterlist and other Follow Me links in bio!

“Okay, this thing is officially too small.” Mya declared.

“I think it’s supposed to be tight.” Yiren said, pulling on the straps of her own outfit.

“Tight, sure. But this is obscene.” She turned to face the mirror, trying to pull her top back up. It was a leather corset style top, but it was very tight and incredibly uncomfortable. It didn’t actually show and cleavage, but she felt like it was either going to slip down and expose her or cut off the circulation to her upper half.

“You look hot though.” Aisha offered.

“I appreciate that.” Mya flipped one of her pigtails over her shoulder. “I’ll remember that when I’m trying to cover up all of the bruises from this stupid shirt later.”

“Worth it for the selcas.” Onda was taking selfies against the far wall.

“If I lift my arms for a picture this shirt is going right down.” Mya sighed. “At least we just have a photoshoot left.”

“And then we get to go home and eat!” Yiren cheered.

They’d been at the event all day and had already taped their performance. Now there was just a few little things for them to finish before they would be done with the very exhausting day. It had been so busy that they hadn’t even had time to greet any of the other artists, as they’d just been running around all day.

“Let’s get this done, girls!” Jiwon cheered.

The all hurried over to the stylists to get the last few finishing touches on their hair and makeup. It was important that they try not to look as worn out as they felt.

A knock sounded at the door, but Mya didn’t turn away from her stylist, who was dutifully applying pink lipstick.

“You weren’t going to leave without saying hi to me, where you?” A voice said from right behind her.

“Eonnie!” Mya screeched, launching out of her chair. “What are you doing here?”

Zoey laughed and pulled Mya into a hug. “I’ve been here all day. I kept hoping we’d run into each other but then I heard you guys were leaving soon, so I had to come and say hi.”

“Hi!” Mya beamed, squeezing her waist.

“You girls look amazing.” Zoey addressed the rest of the group. “You killed your performance earlier.”

“Thanks, Sunbaenim.” Mia bowed.

“Monsta X did amazing too.”

“And you look so pretty.” Sihyeon gestured to the older girl nervously.

Zoey just giggled and glanced down at her outfit. “Nah, I have nothing on all of you.”

That was completely not true, of course. Zoey was wearing a pair of oversize, low-slung cargo pants, a black bra and a white sweater cropped high enough to show it off. She also had some intricate body chains resting against her stomach.

“I did want to ask you guys something.” Zoey said, keeping her arm linked with Mya. “I’ve already asked little baby Enya here, but I wanted to run it by you as well.”

“What is it?” Aisha tilted her head.

“I like to post dance covers sometimes, and I was wondering if you’d be okay if I posted a LaDiDa dance cover.” She asked.

“Really?” Jiwon explained. “That would be amazing.”

“It would be such an honor!” Yiren exclaimed.

“I’m glad.” Zoey bowed in thanks. “Sometime in the future, we’ll have to work together. But I have to get going now.”

“Thank you, Sunbae!” Aisha clapped her hands.

“No, thank you guys.” Zoey turned to leave, before she hesitated. “Oh, wait.”

“Did you forget something?” Mya asked.

“Yeah, this.” Zoey pinched Mya’s cheeks in her hands. “You’re doing so good and I’m so proud of you and also are you still bringing your boyfriend over for dinner next week.”

“Yes!” Mya winced through the pain in her face. “If you still want me to.”

“Of course I do. Until I have my own kids, you’re going to be my baby.” Zoey beamed, tugging on her pigtails.

“If I have to.” Mya sounded squished.

Zoey snorted and released her, glancing at the other girls as she walked out of the room. “You ladies take care of her for me.”

“Yes, Sunbaenim!” They called after her.

“My face hurts.” Mya tried to rub some feeling back into her cheeks.

“She’s so cool.” Yiren peeked through the door, watching Zoey disappear from sight.

“You’re going for dinner with her next week?” Mia asked. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Mya nodded. “She invited me and Yuta over to her apartment.”

“Her apartment with S.Coups from Seventeen?” Sihyeon exclaimed.

“Um…yeah. That’s her boyfriend. I haven’t actually met him but-“

“Mimi,” Onda grabbed her arm. “Do you think you can invite her out for dinner, and we can all come along some time?”

“What? Why?”

“Because she’s so cool.” Onda gushed.

“I think I got cooler just by standing near her.” Jiwon nodded.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Mya protested. “I thought I was the cool rapper. Are you replacing me?”

“Absolutely.” Aisha confirmed.

Mia gasped loudly. “Do you think you could get her to record a dance cover with us? That’s literally my dream.”

“She produces, right? She could produce for us!”

“I produce for you!” Mya shouted. “I literally produced the song we’re currently promoting.”

“Yeah, but…we’re used to you.” Yiren teased. “She’s new and pretty.”

“She’s not new.” Mya pouted. “Just for that, I’m never letting you guys meet her again.”

Onda gasped, looking genuinely hurt. “You wouldn’t!”

Mya frowned. “No. But you need to love me more so that I don’t think you’re bored of me.”

“We love you so much.” Sihyeon patted her head. “And your cool friends.”

#everglow #everglow au #everglow imagines #everglow 7th member #female kpop #female!kpop #female member kpop #requests open #au #kpop #imagines #imagine #kpop au #kpop imagines #kpop imagine #monsta x #monsta x au

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royallyprincesslilly · 5 years ago

Text

Title: A Helping Hand {Headcanon}***

Jason Momoa x Reader

Warning: Cursing, NSFW, Fluff, SMUT

Words: 2.1k

***Loosley Edited/Proofread***

Have you seen Jason’s fingers? Have you? Have you taken a good look at this Hawaiian God’s fingers? Jason stands at six feet four inches. He weighs over two hundred pounds and he is all rock-hard chiseled muscle, and pure charisma and charm.

Sitting with the other members of his team that charisma and charm were on full display. This meeting was a monthly brief to discuss Jason’s schedule, potential business deals, incoming roles, and other tidbits that impacted his career.

You finished your portion of the meeting as his stylist. You went over every important function for the next month and his schedule as it pertained to your access to him. You sat across from him in the leather seat when you were finished. Jason had his fingers steepled under his chin as he kept his eyes glued to you.

For business meetings like these, he liked to put his long bi-colored hair into a manageable man bun. It was your suggestion, one meant to play with his look and the messages he sent with that look.

Your job was to make him look good at all times. In the three years, you’d been his stylist you hadn’t failed at that job not even once. He always looked amazing, good enough to eat.

An hour later everyone shook hands and prepared to leave while having a little small talk. You had things to do so you slipped out of the conference room and walked down to your office. Once inside you began arranging the deliveries of clothes you’d gotten just that morning. Your office looked like a bomb went off in a closet. To the outside eye, it looked like chaos but to you, it was chaotic organization.

As you draped pants, button downs, belts, scarves and other garments over the long table to the right of the room you got on a video call with your apprentice who was currently scouting some new pieces for you. you gave the okay on the pieces you liked while remaining focused on your agenda for the day. You were so wrapped up in your work you weren’t aware of anything else.

“How do you find anything in here?” Jason stood by the door with an amused grin on his face. Setting your side of the video call dark you turned to him and gave him a small smile.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, this is completely organized.” Jason scoffed and casually locked the door before he walked to you. you look back to your phone to see the next few items your apprentice posted and quickly assessed them and decided.

“I think I’ll need more convincing on that outfit you sent to the house last night.” His voice is deep, rough and the spark that turned you on. He was behind you, you could feel his presence.

You tapped mute on your end but before you turned he pressed his body against you. You weren’t expecting it and it makes you moan. Jason wraps his hand around you to rest his palm right at your pubis.

“I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off of you all morning.” You know it’s true. Every move you made you felt his eyes on you. Every circle you made around the room you felt the heat of his pupils burning off the clothes you had on.

“Maybe you should have tried harder.” You tried to walk away but he held you steady and firm then you felt his lips at the nape of your neck. You stifled your moan by sinking your teeth into your bottom lip.

“You mean as hard as you’re trying right now to pretend you don’t want me?”

Damn him, you thought. Jason grazed his teeth on your skin before he gently bit your neck. You couldn’t fight the moan and a small mewl escaped you. You could feel Jason’s smile before he sucked your skin sending goosebumps across your body.

“Jason, we can’t. Not here.”

He knew how you felt about keeping some form of professional boundaries between you. You’d worked together for the last three years but were only intimate for the last year on and off. Every time your bodies came together you always said it wouldn’t happen again until it did.

Jason pressed his hardening member on your ass, and you groaned. “Shit. You know we can’t.” It was a whine; he was not playing fair.

“We can. We’ve been together for a little over a year Y/N, you can’t just keep taking me when you feel like it here and there. We’re past that.” This was not the first time he’d brought this up, but it was the first time he’d done it this directly.

“Do you want me, Y/N? Before you answer just know I can read your body. I can hear it. I’ve gotten very good at listening to your body.” His lips were at your ear and every so often they brushed against you, tempting you to speak your truth. “Tell me, Y/N. Do you want me?”

The words hitched in your throat, you couldn’t say no, that was a lie, but you were reluctant to say yes. Jason turned you to face him pressing his pelvis onto you and gazing deeply into your eyes. He softly caressed your cheek then down to your chin before he tipped it up. His lips brushed yours then brushed your chin and down to your throat. You moaned again.

“Tell me babygirl.” Jason’s hand dipped under the leather pencil skirt you wore. When you felt his thick digits graze your pussy you gasped and tossed your head back.

“You’re already so wet.” You bit your bottom lip and enjoyed his fingers as they coaxed your body to give in. At this rate, he wouldn’t need to coax much longer.

“Let me give you a helping hand.” Jason’s thigh slipped between your legs hoisting you up onto the table. The split in your skirt gave him the needed access to your body. Jason pinched your sex sending a jolt through you making you jerk back dropping to your elbows. He does it two more times and each time you open your thighs wider and wider.

“You’re so wet.” Jason slipped your panties to the side and swirled his thumb around your clit. You moaned and arched backward savoring the sensations he was giving you.

“Fuck, Jason.” Any restraint you had was gone once you felt him pinch your clit. It was throbbing before, but you were able to bear it, but now dear God you were way past getting over it. You needed a release.

Your body writhed atop the desk as the heat in your body increased. Jason began to move his hand from between your legs but you grabbed it and kept it in place. Locking eyes with him you bit your bottom lip and began moving his finger around your clit.

“Right there.” A mischievous smirk spread across Jason’s lips and the next second your legs were spread even wider.

“You got this. Take it.” His encouragement was the sexiest thing. You didn’t need any more encouragement. You gripped his hand and singled out his three fingers and swirled them around your clit. Each circle they made sent shivers through you and each shiver had you moving your body like a wave in the ocean.

You ebbed and flowed your body to the imaginary sound of music you were hearing. It was a soundtrack for a race, a race of pleasure. You felt Jason’s need jam into your thigh and unexpectedly it made you want more. You lowered his hand and when they lined with your opening his eyes left yours and locked onto your core.

“Jesus you’re going to be the death of me,” Jason groaned out, his voice was gruff and dangerously deep.

“Then die happy, fuck me.”

With a long groan, he sank one finger into your depths. You softly moaned. It wasn’t enough.

“More?” You nodded giving him the answer he wanted.

“Ask me nicely.”

“Please baby, more. I need to feel your fingers inside of me.” It wasn’t begging, it was pleading.

Jason hissed as he sunk another digit in your heat. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

Jason slowly plunged his fingers in and out of your sopping core. It was sheer torture--torture that you refused to take. Again, you grabbed his hand and plunged a third finger inside and proceeded to use his fingers to bring yourself the pleasure you wanted.

Your moans filled the room in seconds, and they tumbled from you one after the other. You didn’t care if anyone could hear. You didn’t care if someone was standing right outside the door with their ear pressed to it. You didn’t care if everyone knew you were fucking your boss. At this point, you were ready for the world to know.

“Fuck, Jason. I wanna come! I wanna come! Make me come, baby!”

You didn’t know if it was him or yourself who plunged his fingers faster and deeper inside of you. You didn’t care. In between your moans and pants you heard how wet you were. The “slosh” and “squelch” sound only fueled your desire for him.

“Yes, Yes, Yes!” One of your hands slapped to your breast and squeezed your nipple through your blouse and that was when you felt him quickly flick your clit. The added sensation was too much and your body shook. You could feel your orgasm pushing its way through you.

“Fuck me! Don’t stop!”

“Right there, you like that? Are you coming for me, sweetheart?” Your head nodded profusely as you babbled incoherently.

“Come for daddy. Show me whose pussy this is. Come all over these fingers!”

Just like that, you let go of whatever you were holding onto and just let the pleasure take over and do to you what it wanted. You screeched as your eyes rolled to the back of your head what triggered your convulsion.

Before you could scream any louder Jason crushed his lips to yours dissolving the screams you let loose. His fingers didn’t still not for a second, he continued to plow through you giving you a never-ending orgasm, a never-ending wave of pleasure and heat that you felt as if you couldn’t take anymore.

You began to see stars behind your eyes, stars of every color known to the color wheel. Your lungs felt burned and your mouth was dry and all you were able to get out were rasps.

“I ca—I can’t—I can’t baby.” You clamped your thighs together hoping to slow his actions to give yourself a needed break. You were sensitive everywhere, but you wanted more from him.

“Jason—.” Your hand met his crotch and moaned when you felt the class F weapon he was concealing.

“You want this dick?”

Again, you nodded as you clumsily tried to undo his pants to free him. Every attempt you made was a fail mostly because you had no coordination in your spent condition, and Jason moving away to avoid your hands.

“Do—you—want—this—dick?” With his last word your hand wrapped around his thickness forcing a moan from him.

“Yes, I want it. I want your dick so bad baby. Please let me have it. Please!” Now you were begging.

A smile spread across his face and you knew he was up to something. Jason lowered himself to you, hovering over your body looking into your eyes.

“The only way you get this dick is if you finally admit what we are. Say the words.”

You should have seen this coming, but you didn’t. He’d planned this. This was his goal.

“Say the words, Y/N.” Jason rubbed his cock across your soaking core sending every logical thought out your head. The man was a master in pleasure torture. It didn’t help that he knew everything you liked, everything that made your body sear.

He smiled again and you felt the tip of his need stretch you. your jaw dropped and everything in you said, “fuck it”.

“Fine. I’m yours, you’re mine. No more hiding. You and me.”

Jason slowly sank into your heat inch by inch. “You and me. Don’t you ever forget it!” With that, he snapped his hips forward sinking balls deep inside of you triggering yet another orgasm. The entire office would know now and the only thought in your head as he began to murder your pussy was “oh well.”

#helping hand headcanon #Jason Momoa #Jason Momoa headcanon #Jason momoa x reader #jason momoa x you #jason momoa x black reader #jason momoa smut #black fanfiction

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 5 years ago

Text

Humans Are Space Orcs, “The Press.”

I have been wanting to do this for a while. Commander Vir deals with fame, and the good and bad parts of it. I hope you like, sorry I am so late today :)

“Why exactly am I back on earth? My tour doesn’t end for another six months, and we were just getting ready for our first exploratory mission since before the burg war.”

“Look, commander, I understand this isn’t what you thought you were signing up for, but since the movie dropped recruitment has Gone up 45% and another 20% after merchandising, we need to get on this quick,”

He sighed

“Besides, you will only be touring one or two weeks. That’s one or two weeks paid vacation while you talk to celebrities, pose for pictures, and maybe do a press conference or two. Bring along a couple of friends to keep you company and it won’t be that bad.”

“Alright, alright, I get it, but I’m not a dancing monkey. I didn’t sign up for this, and it’s not going to becoming a thin.”

“Yes commander, now The UNSC is taking you first. You are their poster child after all, and they want your face on the recruiting posters .”

“Very well, ma’am.”

***

Wednesday, June 3

“This is good work commander, but we are going to bring in an expert to make it just right.”

Commander Vir stood in an empty hanger bay surrounded by reflective panels, directional lights and a multitude of camera equipment. Sunny and Krill were playing a guessing game he had taught them earlier in the day to keep them occupied, and Waffles -- his dog -- was curled up by one of the set technicians taking a nap.

“An expert?”

“Yes, we’re bringing in one of the guys who used to be a guard in Arlington. The uniform looks good, but is it perfect?”

The answer to that question was answered simply few minutes later

He was a slob, a big fat slob who didn’t know how to properly wear his socks. The guy even whipped out a tape measure to determine the exact distance that a pin should be placed from the crease in his collar.

Commander Vir didn’t see the difference on the small scale, but in aggregate, he found that the difference was actually quite startling. He blinked, “Wow.”

“Excellent, now, we’re going to have you stand over here while we adjust the lights, and then when we give you the cue we want you to follow the order to a T. We will have parade rest attention, present at attention and then contemplatively looking off into the distance. We will have someone with a marker to tell you where to look.”

“Stare contemplatively off into the distance. I don’t remember learning that one.”

“Ahh we got a smartass.”

He stepped into place doing as the cameraman ordered, trying to look serious and imposing as directed, though Sunny and Krill had decided to make faces in the background. He actually did loose it at some point as Sunny started doing some weird improvised dancing in the background while krill stood there like it offended his sensibilities.

Eventually they got what he wanted, and they showed him some of the prototypes.

There were a few that he liked but only because they looked like vintage movie posters from some badass naval war movie.

Thursday, June 4

The three of them walked into the studio watching as bodies flowed past them hurrying off in all directions. Obviously their presence caused quite a stir, and Adam thought he recognized a few faces peering from the crowd, other movies stars and celebrities, but he couldn't be sure what he was seeing. And then there were the women, and men who hurried about, tall, statuesque like greek gods given life, with jaws so sharp they could cut paper, and pouty lips under wide dark eyes.

Looking at them and then at himself, well, he felt like a dump truck next to a sports car.

Sunny on the other hand didn’t seem impressed, “I could snap them in half…. Like twigs.”

“Fighting isn’t the point Sunny, they’re just supposed to be hot.”

Krill eyed them, “Their single job is to profess the perfect mating standard?”

“Ur yeah, I guess.”

Krill snorted, Sunny shook her head ,’ What is the point of being hot if you’re also useless besides you don’t look all that different.”

He rolled his eyes. Leave it to an alien not to be able to tell what super hot humans looked like.

“I’m serious,” Sunny insisted, “You’re as tall as most of them, and more muscular than some of them, and you have a cool eye patch, so that means you win.”

He couldn’t help but smile shaking his head, “Alright, Alright, I’ll shut up.”

At that moment a woman appeared from nowhere and held out a hand, “Commander! So glad you could come, so glad.” She looked him up and down with a frown.”

“That bad huh?”

“Nothing a little wardrobe and makeup can’t fix.” She announced clapping her hands together and motioning others over as he frowned.

He frowned.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing “

“Do I tell you how to do your job commander, no, now over to wardrobe .”

He blinked in surprise, “Ok, yes ma’am.”

He found himself sidling over to where racks and racks of clothing was hanging suddenly surrounded by the tall, statuesque people with their big eyes and pouty lips. While they were busy looking hot, he got nervous and nearly knocked over an entire rack of clothing, blushed till he was beat red, and then decided after this was all over he was going to bury himself under a rock and die.

He was mostly ignored for like twenty minutes until someone walked over, “Commander,” He was a portly little man with hair dyed frost white though his roots were growing in black. The man grabbed him by the hand and dragged him across the room, “Alright, alright, what do we have.”

He looked him over prodding t his shoulders and arms, making him turn in a circle, “Not bad, not bad at all. I can work with this. Tell me commander formal, or casual.”

“Uh casual?”

“Exactly what I was thinking! The provincial small town man feel. I like it.”

“Well I mean ok…” the little man grabbed him aggressively by the arm and pulled him around to a rack of clothing. In the end he had a pair of jeans black boots a black T-shirt and a brown leather jacket.

He frowned, “I hate to point this out, but this is literally what I am wearing.”

“No it isn’t. Yours is frumpy and sloppy and ours will make you look acceptably rugged.”

He frowned not sure if he was supposed to be offended or not, “And where am I supposed to change.”

“Right here.”

“Right here!’

“Commander, these are models, they show their bodies off for a living, none of them need a changing room, so take a leaf out of their book and stop worrying.”

This was worse than a high school locker room. Humans had never reached light speed, but he was pretty sure he at least broke the sound barrier while pulling on the new pants.

When he walked back over pulling on his jacket sunny and Krill had made themselves comfortable in a couple of the stage crew chairs, “What are you so nervous about, you looked fine.” Sonny said looking down at her implants to change music.

“You were watching me>”

“Was I not supposed to do that.”

He felt himself turn a nice shade of cherry red, “No!.”

She shrugged, “Whatever.”

Krill just shook his head, “You forget that neither of us wear clothes, so we do not understand your issues.”

He sighed, “Nudists.” He muttered walking towards the set, though he was immediately diverted by another person who led him over to a set of chairs and mirrors. He was pushed down into a seat and spun around and an aggressive group of stylists moved in on him. This is honestly not what he had expected when he joined the army.

He was even less impressed when they started to stick brushes in his face causing him to blink and his eyes to itch. Someone wetted down his hair and put product in it that smelled like strawberries, which, honestly he wasn’t entirely annoyed about.

From there he was finally let go and walked onto another photo set, though this one had way more lightning, way more cameras and way more props.

And of course like the awesome badass commander that he was, he stood there like a complete idiot as stiff as a board, caught like a deer in the headlights. The photographer seemed more than a little annoyed at his inability to look like anything other than sasquatch caught on a hunting camera.

“Relax.”

“This is kind of out of my element.”

“Being capture by aliens and going on space walks where you might suffocate, and you cant relax enough to take a picture.”

“To be fair, no one sees me when I am doing badass stuff, so I don’t have the social pressure of preforming well.”

They tried some more.

They told him he was smiling awkwardly, or like he was being threatened at gunpoint.

It wasn’t until Sunny started doing stupid dances behind the camera-man, again that the photographer finally started to like what he was seeing. Every time he turned to look at what Vir was smiling at, Sunny would stop dancing trying to look all innocent.

That just made him laugh.

At some point one of the people had a great idea to involve waffles, and -- like the good girl that she was -- she promptly stole the spotlight, which he was totally cool with.

Photoshoots were definitely not his thing.

He was about 100 percent sure when the photos came out they would look like his last middle school yearbook picture.

Even thinking about it made him grimace.

Friday, June 5

“And please help me to welcome our next special guest, Commander Adam Vir of the UNSC.”

His legs felt like jelly, and it took sunny nudging him to finally get him moving onto the stage. He wondered if people could tell just how bad his legs were shaking.

And there was a twitching going on in his right cheek that he just couldn't stop.

He wanted to go back to the hotel and watch dumb TV With Sunny while krill complained about the medical inaccuracies.

But here he was listening to clapping and cheering from an assembled studio crowd. He was sure he was going to do something massively stupid, like trip off the stage, or rip his pants or forget his own name, or something.

The host stood up, he was blanking on their name right now though he knew they were ridiculously famous.

He shook hands with them.

“So glad you could come commander.”

“A pleasure to be here.” He responded robotically hoping that his smile was at least somewhat convincing.”

He took a seat on the couch, resting a hand against his shaking right leg.

He was going to puke.

“So, i Heard you have been on tour for the past two days, how are you enjoying the celebrity circuit.”

He rubbed his hands against his legs, “Do you want the real answer or the fake one?”

“Lets hear the real one.”

“Er, well it turns out I am really bad at…. Pretty much everything that’s not captaining a ship. Yesterday I did a photoshooot where I am ninety percent sure I looked like an awkward cryptid most of the time. People are going to be looking at those photos and wondering in what swamp they found me.”

There was laughter from the crowd.

He wasn’t entirely sure if that was funny or not.

“I am sure they aren’t as bad as all that.”

He shook his head, “Pretty sure my face was like this…” He raised his hands making a wide-eyed shocked expression that had the crowd laughing again.”

The host smiled, “Commander, Forgive me for asking, but how old are you.”

He smiled sheepishly, “Um, lets just say too young and leave it at that.”

“I was sort of under the impression that commanders and admirals were….”

“Old wrinkly dudes?”

“Yeah.”

He rubbed the back of his head, “That’s mostly true, the reason I got this position has to do with my experience with extra terrestrials.”

“I’ve heard rumors that you have aliens on board your ship. Is that true.”

“Those shouldn’t be rumors, that is entirely true. We have a twenty….three person Drev clan, a Vrul medical officer, a starborn, and some miscellaneous others.”

A muttering from the crowd, “But you were part of the Drev war, and Operation Steel eye. How did an entire Drev clan end up on your ship?”

He shrugged, “The story is complicated, but the long and short of it is, I made friends with some Drev after the war, and they adopted me into the clan.”

“Can we…. See, the prosthetic I mean” He held up his hands, “Not to be disrespectful.”

He shrugged, “sure.” Reaching down and tugging up his pant leg so the bright blue carapace glittered in the bright studio lights.

The man leaned closer, “Wow…. What…. What is that?”

“Drev carapace.” He dropped the pant leg.

“Why?”

“That is actually the reason I am adopted. A drev has to give you a gift that contains a piece of their own armor, so my best friend made this for me some time ago.”

They talked about that for a little while. They talked about the war, they talked about his first moment on an alien planet.

“I was actually on the original mission to land on Proxima b. I was the shuttle pilot behind Captain Kelly, though I don’t know how many people knew that.

There was a murmuring around the room.

“I know it was broadcasted live, but luckily the cameras were pointed away because when I was getting out of the shuttle, my foot slipped on the stairs.” The crowd gasped and giggled, “And I face planted right onto the surface.”

More laughing.

“That is my legacy, the first man to take a nose dive on an alien planet.”

“I would say that your legacy contains a lot of strange instances. There are reports that you recently escaped from kidnapping by a prodigum by… Singing? How did that work?”

He rubbed the back of his head, “Well that is… that is.” he laughed nervously, “Yes that is a thing that happened. I and my friend Sunny were captured by a criminal overlord for entertainment in his little criminal syndicate. They had cages lined all along the ceiling and inside them were other humans. Turns out the Prodigum react to human singing like a drug, so I was asked to sing, luckily for me one of the woman in the other cage was a voice coach, so a few days of starving and being miserable, she taught me how to sing properly, or a little more properly, and then I sang a super sad song, distracted everyone long enough for y friend to escape and call for help.”

Gasping and more laughter around the room.

“Wow…. Your life….”

“Reads like a strange cartoon doesn’t it.”

From the crowd, “Sing for us!.”

The call was taken up a few more times.

He shook his head, “No no no, no I am not going to sing on international television. I have embarrassed myself enough this week.”

“You now commander, you wouldn’t want to disappoint the public.”

He could feel the heat rising into his face as the rest of the crowd took up the chant.

He tried to protest, but that didn’t seem to be working.

Eventually he held up his hands “Ok, ok, but if my voice cracks…. Just don’t laugh.”

“And you were without accompaniment.”

He sighed, “Yeah it was a Capella. They didn’t exactly give me a soundtrack.” he stood taking a few deep breaths and humming to himself. His legs were shaking even worse than before.

He rubbed his hands nervously together.

The studio went very quiet.

He felt sweat trickling down his back between his shoulder blades.

He took a deep breath and….

His voice came out loud and clear, though it quivered slightly. He tried to shore it up as he continued, taking deeper breaths trying to get more control. He tried to find that place where he had been back in the cage. The sort of hopeless anguish he had tried to convey. His voice did quake a few times, but he was ok with that.

At least he didn’t do something super stupid like fall off the stage.

He cut it off hallway because his legs were shaking so bad, he thought that any worse might cause him to fall over.

The crowd began to clap as he collapsed back into his seat taking a deep breath.

“Wow, that is pretty impressive for someone who says they don’t sing. Bet the person who wrote that didn’t think it would be used to escape alien kidnappers.”

“Whatever it was, it worked. But” he lifted his hand, “I’m shaking so bad right now.”

The man shook his head, “That form someone who doesn’t shake when he flies jets at thousands of miles per hour.”

He smiled, “The jet isn’t going to judge me if my voice cracks. I think you will find aliens and airplanes are a lot less scary than humans. Don’t get me wrong humans are great , you guys just scare me half to death.”

Saturday, June 6

A flight demonstration over the beach, which was pretty good

Sunday, June 7

Dinner with a few important famous people

Monday, June 8

Dinner with some politicians.

Tuesday, June 9

He visited some UNSC bases up and down the western coastline talking to servicemen and visiting some other people

Wednesday June, 10

The magazines came out, and they actually managed to make him look pretty good to his surprise, though he was pretty sure the picture had been taking while Sunny was doing something with her hips that Drev hips had not been designed for, which eventually made him laugh so hard he had choked.

Thursday, June 11

This was his last day, and he had one more press conference to attend, than he could go home. He was wearing his formal uniform, captain’s cap, cords, gloves and everything else. There were at least ten microphones on the lectern in front of him, and a crowd of reporters below. Lights blinded his eyes.

Behind his back, the UNSC flag outlined him in bright blue.

He was getting ready for more questions about the Burg war or wearing the steel eye armor.

He nodded to one of the reporters in the front.

“Commander, do you want to explain to us why, on UNSC time you were reported as supporting an LFIL protest when you were supposed to be acting as neutral crowd control.”

He felt the blood drain right out of his face.

He was not ready for this.

Inside his brain went blank. He stammered for a second, suddenly feeling like a little kid giving a class presentation while all eyes stared at him. More cameras flashed, “I…. I was doing what I thought…. Needed to be done to keep the protest civil.”

“That was not your job!”

More yelling until the crowd was shushed, “Look, the GA wasn’t seeing any of their representative. I simply explained their side of the story to the GA, and they decided to lift the ban on their own.”

“Directly going against the policies of the UNSC was a gross breach of your contract commander, and we are all having a hard time understanding why you have not been disciplined for it.”

“You have no idea what is on y contract. My job is to foster peace throughout the galaxy, and THAT is what I did.”

“Some people see it as a direct attack on our way of life. You are helping spread disease poor moral values throughout the galaxy.”

He felt his face burning, “What makes you think their relationships have anything to do with you NONE of them live on earth or on Mars. They do not interact with you, they do not bother you, they do not THINK about you. And no they are not spreading disease because every person who leaves earth receives a full disease panel. You are more likely to have communicable diseases than they are.”

Uproar.

He shouldn't have said that.

“You are spreading extrial propaganda, and now that you are the face of the UNSC you are having an impact on our children, so t is your duty to uphold the values of the Human public.”

His hands were gripping white onto the lectern, “It is my job to uphold MY values and if the UNSC doesn’t like what I am doing they will fire me, so that is none of your concern.”

“Commander Vir, are you an extrail.”

The room went very silent suddenly. His heart was hammering in his chest.

“You are out of line. My personal life whatever it may entail has no bearing on my work, so you will either ask me professional questions or we are done here.”

“But you haven't denied it!” Someone else shouted.

“That question doesn't deserve an answer either way. If i tell you, that means I am justifying myself to you, which I have no desire to do, and if I were to confirm the other way, I would be bringing a personal issue into a political light, which would also be inappropriate. Either way I will not answer you. Unless there are any more questions that involve my work and not my personal life…”

He wouldn’t budge forcing them to change the subject.

His hands were shaking again, but this time it was out of anger. He had to breathe very slowly to keep himself calm enough.

***

Headlines

Commander Vir Extrail or Normal

SCANDAL: UNSC’s Golden boy involved with aliens?

Press conference turns to barbed comments.

LFIL Propaganda

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