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moonchildstyles · 6 months

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pleasing

y/n is harry's best friend and she'd never received a valentine's present like this one before.

wordcount: 9.5k+

—————

Just as she finished patting in her skincare for the night, (Y/N)'s phone vibrated for where she had it plugged in, in her bedroom. There was only one person that would be calling her this late at night.

Dismissing the products she had scattered on her bathroom counter, she rushed back into her room. Upon the screen was a blurry, distorted picture of her best friend with his hair on top of his head in different spikes, thanks for a heaping of sticky hair gel and free time during a snowstorm. His name was plastered across the top, the peapod emoji right next to it. She didn't hesitate before she answered the call.

"Harry?" she sang after pressing her phone to her ear.

"Hey, are you busy?"

"I'm just getting ready for bed. Why?"

"Can I FaceTime you?"

She barely had time to give a yes before the call switched to a FaceTime in her hand, her screen lighting up a beat later. In front of her was the top half of his face, revealing only his eyes and up. His hair was pulled back with a claw clip, the angle showing off the length of his lashes and the furrow of his brow.

(Y/N) could see herself in the small box in the corner of the screen, showing off a rather similar angle to what he was giving, though she thought hers was much less flattering somehow.

"Hello?"

The furrow in her best friend's brow decreased at the sound of her voice, giving away the smile that was spreading across his lips even if she couldn't see it on screen.

"Can y'see me?" he asked, his voice sounding muffled and far away.

"Yes, but I can barely hear you. Are you covering your speakers?"

Her world went askew as Harry shuffled his phone in his hand, his mouth set in a comical frown for a glimpse before he righted his grip and was back with the half view of his face. "Sorry, can y'hear me now?"

She hummed a confirmation, smiling to the camera. "What did you want to show me?"

Harry's cheeks lifted, giving away the hint of a dimple in the corner of the frame. "I have new samples."

A gasp fell from (Y/N) lips, excitement filling her. "For the collection?! Or different ones?"

"For the collection."

Her excitement only rose at the new information. "Let me see!" she bubbled, eagerly curling up on her bed, ready to spend the next hour poring over the new development with Harry.

After a small struggle and a lagging view of Harry's face, the camera suddenly turned to show a view of prototype nail polish bottles and first prints of shimmery nail stickers laid out on his black bedding.

Even in the low light of his room, (Y/N) could see flecks of glitter in a few of the polishes, the stickers glimmering in the shapes of hearts and flowers. The colors themselves ranged from quiet pastels to vivid brights, some left creamy, others containing barely-there shimmers, and the remainders boasting chunky bright glitters. The collection was large, containing two sets of polishes: one set was full of delicate pastels ranging in the pink family, with the other championing rich, clinging colors. The first iterations of the polish packaging came with the iconic spheres on the tops of the bottles, though this collection featured watercolor petals draped over the shape, leaving the illusion of flowers encased in the bottle all in the same color as the polish inside.

"What do you think?"

(Y/N) was sure he could see the wide set to her eyes, the way she was practically fawning over them already. "H, I love it! This is for the Valentine's collection, right?"

"Something like that, yeah," he answered, his smile evident in his voice, "I figured y'liked the pink ones."

"I do," she chirped, bringing her phone closer as if she could gain a clearer look of each shade that way. "Put your phone closer, I want to see the colors and the stickers better."

Harry did just that without hesitation, bringing his phone to his bed, though he went a step further and picked up the stickers to show off in front of the camera.

Gasping, (Y/N)'s brows bounced over her eyes when she took in the sticker sheet.

"Harry."

"What?"

"Are those bows?!"

He only laughed.

—————

"Goodnight, (Y/N). I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Talk to you tomorrow, H," (Y/N) yawned, unabashedly showing off a downturned angle of the moment while Harry watched on. "Let me know if you want to get dinner later this week. Love you."

His heart squeezed in his chest at her casual declaration. "Love you, too."

With that, the video of her sleepy face disappeared, showing only the simple photo he had saved to his lockscreen. Harry's gaze lingered on the empty space for a heartbeat, just a split second away from calling her back despite the late hour and the fact she'd been half asleep before he'd suggested she head to bed. He forced himself to lock his phone and set it on his bedside table, keeping it out of sight and hopefully out of mind.

Still spread out on his bed, where he had sprawled out his limbs and grew comfortable amongst the bedding, were the new Pleasing products he had been so eager to show off. Everything was still in the test package, nothing completely finalized or one hundred percent polished just yet, but he'd been too excited. He'd shared the concept with (Y/N) ages ago, right after he'd made it out of a meeting with Harry Lambert and Molly, unable to keep the secret under wraps—especially when he found his own inspiration for the collection.

(Y/N).

It had been Molly's idea to unveil a Valentine's themed collection after the small set of apparel that would be released around his birthday, hoping to tap into another facet of him that was so beloved to the public. She had in mind something that would commemorate the love songs he was so famous for; the kind of sweetheart, love-sick energy that he often utilized to make his most memorable lyrics and showcased on stage.

As she had gone on, sharing what kind of feeling she wanted to invoke for the season's rollout, Harry was only thinking of his own inspiration.

It was the same thing that inspired his music, his attitude, his want to improve and be more and more than he started as.

His best friend.

He saw his own idea for the collection coming in flashes of her favorite colors, the shade of the dress she wore to his birthday party, the hue of her eyes, the colors that falling in love with her made him see in the world. He could see her with her fingernails proudly painted in his brand, the way she always did when Pleasing made something new just so she could support him. There were already prototypes of new apparel, manicure stickers, and campaign designs forming in his head.

Harry had come away from that meeting with plenty of ideas to think on, and lyrics forming that he hoped he wouldn't forget before he had a chance to write them down.

Months later, he had enough ideas for more than one micro-collection. Each one had been passed by Molly and Harry Lambert—both being excited and surprised that there was so much to be used and saved for later collections—leaving with a duo of aesthetics they planned on basing the campaign around.

That was what he had shown (Y/N) tonight, and was now spread across his bedspread as he tried to calm down his winding heart after their late night call. He kept seeing her face when she spotted the romantic set that was directly inspired by her, the way her eyes lit up when she took in the shades of pink and the shimmery accents. That had been the kind of reaction he had been hoping for when he received the initial samples.

Collecting each piece, he took his time pulling each bottle, rolling them in his hands with bubbles floating through the polish. He wondered if (Y/N) would catch the connections when he revealed the names to her. He wondered if she would know that he named this shimmery soft pink Woman with her in mind, including inspiration from a song he penned that now was soaked in her memory. The buttery yellow with golden reflects dubbed Home, would she know that was based on the golden dress she wore the first time she saw him on tour? The rich, creamy red he'd called Feast, he hoped she'd see the lipstick she wore the first time they met in the shade.

He lingered over the bottles, all eight shades invoking a specific memory that went into the creation. Carefully replacing them in the drawer with the rest of his Pleasing pieces, ensuring nothing clinked together too hard with the sticker bundle staying together, he allowed himself a moment with the full collection under the bright light of his bathroom. It was near perfect, seeing it all together. All that was left to sample was the apparel that had been drafted up a few weeks prior with Harry Lambert's guidance, and the extra accessories they were debating on adding in the collection.

He had a feeling (Y/N) would fight to take the samples from him. The idea had a small smile spreading on his lips by the time he was flicking his bathroom light off and padding back to his room.

By the time Harry bundled himself in his bedding, his phone settled away in his bedside table, he shuttered his eyes though he could still see the ghost of (Y/N)'s excited face on the inside of his eyelids. Just as much as he hoped she would notice the names of the polishes, catch the fact that the stickers were an ode to her, the apparel made with her form in mind, scents formulated to sweep over her skin, he feared she wouldn't notice in the same way she'd never noticed him in the way he wanted.

Did she remember the yellow dress she wore to the first live show she could make it to? (Y/N) barely ever wore lipstick these days, did she even have that tube of red anymore? Did she ever listen to Woman and hear the words he was too scared to say to her every time she introduced him to a new boyfriend?

The idea needled at the center of his chest just as it always had when he was reminded that he was years into an infatuation that had no sign of ending either from sweet reciprocation or his heart moving on.

Nonetheless, he thought, grasping at positivity as always, he was going to revel in the reactions she gave him as if it were for himself. Those delicate compliments and the joyous excitement, he would hold tight as if they were for who he was and not something that he made.

And, probably try to convince her to be a part of the product shoot.

—————

i'm here !! 🍣🍣

(Y/N) pocketed her phone as she approached the small gate surrounding Harry's home, the concrete divider and plethora of greenery giving privacy to the space. The bag of takeaway sushi hung at her side, the hood of her coat lifted over her head in case there was anyone around hoping to spot a glimpse of Harry's personal life and spin whatever tale.

She didn't have to check if her text went through, having to wait only a moment before she heard him make his way from his front door and going through the protective greenery. "(Y/N)," he sang through the trees, the syllables of her name sifting through the plants.

"Harry," she reciprocated, a smile spreading across her lips at the familiar greeting.

Swinging open the gate, Harry welcomed her in with his hair held back in a familiar flower clip and dimples thumbed into his cheeks. She quickly stepped over the threshold, heading towards his porch while he locked the gate behind her. Only a beat after the click of the lock sounded, he fell into step beside her, hooking an arm around her shoulders.

"Hi," he smiled, dimples clear on his cheeks as he gazed down at her.

"Hi," she answered, her own features curling and softening. Feeling his eyes on her face, she took on the responsibility of guiding them towards the front door without stumbling through his garden. "Sorry I'm late. The sushi place was packed for some reason today."

"Yeah?" he sounded, voice decidedly softer than just a beat before, "'M sorry. I would have gone if I'd known it would be that busy."

"It's alright," she told him, leading them through his front door to which he dropped his arm from around her to instead shut and lock the door, "I just figured it wouldn't be so bad since they just opened, but everyone else probably had the same idea."

Placing the takeaway bag on the coffee table, (Y/N) shed her jacket and the knitted beanie covering her head. She had another question on her lips as she turned to face Harry once more, though that line died once she took in his outfit for the day.

"What are you wearing?"

A small smile spread over his lips at her words though he didn't offer his own response.

His legs were covered in athletic joggers, the same heather green ones he always seems to be wearing lately, but that wasn't what caught her attention. Draped over his torso was a delicately pink crewneck, thick and warm, with Pleasing scripted across the center of the chest in a mauve shimmer.

"That's new, isn't it?" she prodded, stepping towards him with her eyes on the shimmering puff print on the crewneck. He had mentioned something about adding apparel to the polish collection she'd been shown last week, but he didn't offer any specific details.

"Maybe," he teased, "Do you like it?"

Reaching his arms out, he let her see the full piece, including the glittery stitching that ran through the garment and drew her eyes along his form. She stepped towards him, running a finger along the seam at the cuff of the sleeve.

"I love it," she smiled, "I didn't know you were making these."

"I know—I wanted it to be a surprise," he told her, his arm flexing under her fingertip before dropping back to his side with his hands sliding into his pockets, "I know you've been wanting a pink one since the first set came out, so I thought it was finally time."

"For Valentine's Day?" she bubbled, thinking back to the samples he'd shown off to her the week before.

Something flashed over his eyes as they dropped from hers, taking in the rest of her features. "Something like that, yeah."

"Do you have any more?" Before he even answered, she couldn't help herself but to start edging towards the stairs bordering the wall behind her.

A plume of laughter fell from Harry's lips, catching her with his palm landing on her arms before she could scurry away. "No," he drawled as he pulled her back towards him, "But, you can have this one if y'want."

"Are you sure?" she asked, eyes wide as she fixed her gaze on him, hands on his chest over the puff print of the lettering. "I don't want to take it if this is the only one you're testing right now."

Harry shrugged her off, his hands on her arms sliding down in a lingering drag before they finally fell back to his sides. "'S alright. No one knows yet, anyway."

Tucking her bottom lip between her teeth, (Y/N) dropped her gaze from his to peruse over the glimmering neckline of the crewneck. "I don't want you to get it in trouble, though, if you give it away."

He scrunched his features, shaking his head as if what she said was completely incredulous. "(Y/N), I made it for you."

His words were cemented as he began pulling the piece off completely, leaving him in only the vintage shirt he'd had on underneath, the print faded and unfamiliar. He shoved the garment in her arms, a waft of his scent enveloping her.

(Y/N) hesitated for long enough that Harry had to have noticed, prompting him to set a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Really, lovie. 'S alright. I don't want y'to have to wait to get your own."

Relenting, she fell into his chest, Harry wrapping his arms around her with a laugh rumbling his chest under her cheek. "Thanks, H. I promise I won't wear it out or anything until you announce it, though."

She could feel him smile when he buried his nose into her hair, his arms pulsing around her a snug embrace.

For a brief moment, (Y/N) let her eyes close as she sunk into his arms. The fragrance of his washing detergent and the lingering scent of his cologne that had sunk into every fiber of his home washed over her. There were times she could see her friendship with Harry moving into territory she'd been too fearful to even explore in her imagination, but feeling his embrace and the words I made it for you ringing in her ears, she could be coaxed to imagine a lot of things with him.

Before she could run too far away in her head, she drew away with a bright smile, hoping he didn't catch the warmth under her skin.

"We need to eat before our soup gets cold," she told him, stepping towards the couch with her new crewneck in her arms.

Harry followed after her, becoming a warm shadow as he took his seat next to her. It wasn't until all of the containers were distributed out from the bag, and (Y/N)'s new sweatshirt was folded carefully at her side that he peeked at her from where he was stirring his miso soup.

"I do have one condition with the crewneck," he murmured, taking a spoonful of tofu and seaweed. (Y/N), her own mouth full with a wonton, raised her brow in response. Taking his time to swallow, his words hanging in the air for a beat, Harry finally followed up with, "We might need an extra model for the Valentine's campaign."

"Okay," (Y/N) mumbled, a furrow pinching at her brows. "Do you need me to ask someone? I think I still have a couple of numbers of some of the people from your music videos if you want me to reach out."

A sheepish smile touched at the corners of Harry's lips. "No, I mean... Would you want to be a model? The shoots in a few weeks, so."

Pushing her chopsticks against the wontons floating in her soup, (Y/N) wasn't sure how to respond. "H, you know I'm not a model or anything—like, you remember that, right?"

He laughed at her remark. "Yes, I remember. This one's going to be really special, though, and a lot of fun. I want you to be in it—if you're comfortable."

She mulled over his words, rolling the short I want you around her head. "And this is a condition of taking the crewneck home with me today?"

A single dimple touched his cheek. "Something like that," he tilted his head, stirring his miso soup into a slow vortex, "I am doing you a favor, aren't I?"

She nudged his shoulder with her own, rolling her eyes. "You said it was made for me, how is it a favor to give it to me?" she teased, only shaking her head when he laughed at her.

A beat passed before Harry returned his eyes to her, his features softened and warm. "Really, it would mean a lot to me if y'were a part of this shoot. At least think about it?"

"I can do that," she compromised, seeing her best friend in front of her even if his words touched a separate part of her shoved into a box in the back of her mind, "I'll think about it, and let you know."

It was the way that his smile bloomed across his features, something bright unfurling in his eyes that (Y/N) was sure she already had her decision pocketed away.

—————

As Molly stood in front of the slew of models and talent sitting in wait for the day, Harry stood behind her as if to read the agenda in her hands even if all he really did was sweep his eyes towards (Y/N) standing at the end of the line.

"First up is the pink side of the campaign," Molly read off, presenting the information with a smile while others ran around behind her setting up for the double shoot that would be happening, "Nail techs will be coming around to make sure everyone has something on their nails—remember which group you're in so we get the correct colors on your nails. Hair and makeup will follow afterwards..."

There was more Molly was saying, the outline of the day being extra exhausting given there were two different aesthetics being achieved today, but Harry was much more focused on the extra model at the shoot.

Truly, he hadn't thought (Y/N) would accept. He knew it was much for her to be in front of a camera like this, seeing as his own need for privacy definitely had rubbed off on her, so he hadn't been surprised that she had lagged on her response for a week. It was when she had called asking about details of the shoot, wanting to know about the times and location, and just how long they would be needed on set, all followed up with a chirped I'll be there! that had surprised him. It wasn't until that call that he planned on being on set all day, having previously only meant to pop by for a few hours before leaving everyone to get the real work done without him being in the way. That was how he ended up here right at eight a.m., hair back in a pink flower clip (another accessory for the collection), and his eyes searching for (Y/N).

"Okay, everyone go pick a station and someone from hair and makeup will come help as soon as they can!" Molly dismissed everyone with a smile before turning on her heel and looking around for Harry Lambert.

Harry stood back with the sets coming together behind him as he watched the line of models scatter towards the lit up tables. There was only one that strayed behind, hands in a bundle at her waist with her wide eyes immediately fixing to him. He didn't hesitate before he stepped towards (Y/N), reaching out to her until his arm was slung over her shoulders.

"Y'alright?" he murmured to her, voice low compared to the bustle happening around the set.

"Yeah," she sighed, scanning her gaze along for the last open station, "It's just weird being on set like this when I'm not just here to watch. I don't want to mess anything up."

He shrugged his shoulders, his arm scrunching around her as he tipped his head. "You're probably going to, but 'm sure Molly or someone will be able to fix it."

It wasn't until she looked up at him with her mouth a gape and an accusatory light in her eyes that he broke with his laughter. His shrug became a comforting hug as he held her to his side. "'M kidding, lovie. You're going to be jus' fine—we're gonna take care of you, don't worry."

Harry pulled out the chair to the vanity for her, catching her reflection in the mirror. There was a part of him that, while he watched her, wanted to grab a camera and get his own shots for the campaign. There was nothing more romantic—in the Valentine's spirit—than the quiet moments with a partner; the moments that made it clear they were a team.

He was tugged out of his head when he heard her speak up. "Are you going to be hanging around for the shoot today then? Or are you going home soon?"

"I'll be here all day," he decided then, setting his hands on the back of her chair as they met eyes in the mirror.

Her gaze brightened, seemingly reflecting back the lights ringing the mirror. "Are you going to be in any of the pictures?"

It was the bubbling of her voice, the way she beamed at him that had his own lips curling into a small smile. "Maybe."

It wouldn't be hard to convince his team to let him sneak in a couple of shots. His nails were already done up anyway.

Before (Y/N) could say much more, one of the three nail techs flittered to her station. Familiar bottles of polish were tucked away in her apron, the pink bottles being placed out on the vanity as she offered (Y/N) a bright smile.

"Hi," she greeted, eyes landing on Harry for a split second before bouncing away just as quickly. "I'm Mari, I'll be doing your nails this morning. How are you?"

"I'm (Y/N). I'm doing good, thank you," she chirped, her voice decidedly higher and sweeter than when she had been speaking with Harry a moment before. He nudged her shoulder just a bit, a silent tease. "How are you?"

"I'm doing well, thank you for asking," Mari said, carefully looking at Harry through the fan of her lashes, "And you, Mr. Styles?"

"I'm good, thank you," he offered, his voice low with a pleasant smile given to Mari. He could spot the small ticks that gave away just how aware she was of him, he didn't want to make her any more nervous. "I appreciate your help today, Mari. I've seen some of your work, and 'm really excited to see what you can do for us."

Mari's tan cheeks heated with a small blush bubbling underneath, faint under her skin. "Of course. Thank you for the opportunity—really."

Harry's smile only spread wider when he felt (Y/N) nudge against his hand, her own quiet tease over his dazzling interaction.

Before she could fluster much more, with all of her supplies spread out on the vanity table, Mari concentrated on (Y/N) once more. "Do you remember which group you were in today, (Y/N)?"

"I'm actually in both groups today, but I think I'm a part of the pink shoot first," (Y/N) smiled, tilting her chin upwards to peek at Harry upside down, "Right?"

"Right," Harry affirmed. It was a lot he was putting on her plate, being in both sides of the campaign, he knew that. But, just as he had told her when he laid out the details, it meant a lot to him to see her in both aesthetics. She was the face of the collection in his mind, he couldn't imagine her not pictured in every iteration.

"Long day," Mari muttered, her features school back into a pleasant expression. She plucked her fingers through the bottles, skating over the set of pink varnishes first. "Do you have a preference for what color we use today?"

At this, (Y/N) looked to Harry once more. "Do you? I'm okay with any of them, but is there something you want me to have for the pictures, or anything?"

Instinctively, Harry looked to the creamy baby pink shade embedded with opal flecks. He nodded towards the bottle, "That one if that's alright."

"This one?" Mari clarified, picking up the bottle he had in mind.

"Yes, please," Harry smiled, looking towards (Y/N) with his raised brows to which she gave him a small giddy nod. "And some of the stickers if y'have them."

A quiet gasp left (Y/N)'s lips. He knew she would like that detail.

"Sounds perfect," Mari bleated, asking for one of (Y/N)'s hands before she started prepping for the manicure.

With her on hand free, (Y/N) reached for the opal polish to be painted over her fingers. "Do you mind if I look?"

"Go for it," Mari smiled, concentrating on the alcohol wipe she was swiping over (Y/N)'s nail beds.

Rolling the bottle around her hand, (Y/N) smiled up at Harry. "Is this the final bottle?"

"Mhm," he hummed, a sense of pride touching at the center of his chest, "We changed a couple of things from when I last showed you, but this is it."

He watched her admire the polish, tipping the bottle to and fro as she watched the color inside bubble and shift. The glitters shown in the light, going undetected until catching a ray and sparkling a vivid pink. When he saw her tilt the bottle to catch the name stickered to the bottom, he couldn't help the pulse his hands gave to the back of her chair.

Would she notice? Was the connecting line thick enough to spot?

Labeled on the bottom of the bottle was the word lovie printed in white ink on the black sticker.

"Hey," (Y/N) called, her voice lilting, "That's me!"

She pulled the bottle towards him, showing off the proof with a warming smile on her lips.

His lungs squeezed even as he tried to play it off, squinting at the bottle as if reading it for the first time. "It is, isn't it?"

"Did you do that on purpose?" she asked, alternating her hands once Mari gave a small tap to her wrist.

"Maybe," he murmured. Did he sound as breathless as he felt?

(Y/N)'s mouth pulled into a bubbly smile—just as bright and attention grabbing as the first time he met her. "Harry," she crooned his name, the syllables cradled on her tongue, "I didn't know you did that. It's so sweet."

There was a moment where he wondered if this was the moment. Was this the moment to share that of course he would name one of these shades after her, as this whole thing was an ode to his feelings for her. Was this warehouse being used as their set the perfect place to tell her what every single shade meant to him and how it was tied to her? It wouldn't be so bad, he thought.

Instead, Harry only bashfully shrugged, tipping his shy smile towards his feet. "'M happy y'like it."

Settling her hands for Mari to begin painting, (Y/N) still kept her attention tipped towards Harry. "Is that why you wanted me to be in the shoot?" she asked, leaning towards where he was still stationed behind her chair, "So, there's, like, platonic love in there too for Valentine's?"

Harry's lungs squeezed for a different reason this time. Platonic love between friends. That's why he named a polish after her in his most romantic collection to date.

"Something like that," he settled on, hoping she didn't catch the way his smile fell just a hair.

Though (Y/N) parted her lips to offer a response, she was cut off before she could take a breath. Harry Lambert was fluttering by the stations, keeping an eye on every model readying for the campaign before he met Harry.

"Sue, would you help me bring in all the clothing, please?" he asked, a tenor of stress entering his voice.

Breaking away from (Y/N)'s chair, Harry didn't hesitate before nodding his head. "Course. Where do y'need me?"

Vaguely, Harry Lambert pointed towards the set pieces before he shook his head. "Just follow me."

Absently, Harry tossed over his shoulder to (Y/N), "I'll be right back, lovie."

When he heard a small okay peep from her, he looked towards her only to see her already blinking at him with admiration in her eyes. No wonder he felt so warm.

—————

Harry was sure his dimples were deep in his cheeks as he leaned over Molly's shoulder, looking at the photos popping up on the computer screen as every shot was uploaded. Unsurprisingly, his favorites were of (Y/N).

Her makeup and hair was done minimally in true Pleasing style, leaving everything sheer and pastel. Her nails were glimmering in the light, dreamy filters to be added to the shots that would accentuate the glitter in the varnish. She looked entirely too cozy in the large pink crewneck clad on her torso and the comfy lounge shorts hugging her hips. Though there was still a stiffness as she transitioned between poses, as if waiting for someone to yell at her to fix her stance, he could see her growing more and more comfortable among the set. She made friends with a few of the other models, making it much easier for her to fit into those group shots and allow her laughter to filter through the room.

It made him feel an undeniable hint of pride seeing her grow so comfortable in front of the camera. He knew she never much preferred being in front of the camera like this, so every small breath of progress she made had his heart glowing for her.

Watching every shot come in over Molly's shoulder, Harry was almost disappointed when the photographer called for a cut; the lighting needed to be adjusted apparently with extra props being brought in before the focus would shift to the colorful end of the campaign. He stepped back, giving however many assistants were helping out all the space they needed to take care of every minute change.

As the models scattered, (Y/N) made a beeline back towards Harry, ushering out of the way as quickly as possible. With everyone distracted, he didn't hesitate before he draped his arms around her shoulders in a loose hug.

"How are y'feeling?" he asked, offering her a quiet smile, "Y'look like you're having fun."

(Y/N) leant into him, her cheek smushed against the blocked muscle of his chest. "I am, but I'm getting tired. I don't know how you do this all the time."

A breath of laughter left his lips at her mumbling. "'S surprisingly exhausting, isn't it? Being the center of attention really takes a lot out of a person."

"No wonder you can fall asleep anywhere," she mused, playing along, "Your life is so hard."

"I've been trying to tell you," he smiled, pulsing his arms around her when he realized just how hard she was leaning into him.

She'd been on her feet from the second she had her makeup and hair finished and there were still hours left of her day, even after lunch was served. As much as he was teasing, he was sure she truly was rather exhausted with this being her first time being more than a spectator on set.

A companionable silence settled between them, Harry not needing to peek to know that she'd had shuttered her eyes while he hugged her. From the corner of his eye, there was a familiar production assistant flittering around with the polaroid camera Harry Lambert had passed off earlier in the day, tasked with documenting the day for behind-the-scenes content. Like a sixth sense, Harry swore he could feel the lens focusing on him and (Y/N), but he didn't flinch back or turn to spot the assistant.

Instead, he stayed right where he was with (Y/N) in his arms even when the camera clicked and light flashed over the space.

—————

"I'll be done in, like, ten minutes, 'kay?" Harry murmured, dropping his bag by the station (Y/N) had claimed for the day, "Lambert said there were only a couple of totes left, so I won't take long."

"Okay," (Y/N) nodded, matching his eyes in the mirror as she pulled out makeup wipes, "I should be done by then."

Harry lingered behind her for a moment, eyes bright in the reflection, before he stepped away. (Y/N) felt her skin warm in his wake, heart fumbling in its beats before she settled in her chair. She made a point to fix her attention to the makeup wipe she was skimming over her skin, keeping her eyes forward instead of following after him.

The other models had cleared out as soon as the photographer had called for a wrap, leaving production behind to clean up and clear out for the night. Harry had, of course, volunteered to help clean as much as he could for the night causing (Y/N) to stay back with him. She had helped break down stations and pack props before finally retiring to the final standing station so she could get un-ready herself.

From her peripheral, (Y/N) spotted Molly bustling around, trusty clipboard in hand. Catching her eye in the mirror, Molly finally paused her constant rushing with her muscles visibly relaxing.

"I've barely been able to talk to you today," Molly said in greeting as she approached (Y/N)'s station, gifting a small hug with an arm around her shoulders. "Thank you for helping out today."

"Of course," (Y/N) smiled, the bulbs around the mirror catching the shimmering stickers on her nails that only made her smile stretch wider. "Thank you for letting me be a part of the shoot. I had a lot of fun."

Molly shifted her weight and leant against (Y/N)’s chair, her features softened. "I could tell. Harry was so worried for you this morning," she shared, "He felt bad, like he had made you say yes when you didn't really want to do this."

Wiping the light mascara off her eyes, (Y/N) shrugged, "You know it's not really my thing, but he said this one was really important to him. I'm really happy I did it, though—the collection is gorgeous, you guys really did so well with this one."

"All of the ideas were H's, so I can't really take any credit for it. Lambert and I just put it all in production," Molly shared, fondness on her features. "We only told him we wanted to do a Valentine's inspired collection, and he already had all of these ideas. We weren't planning to do a dual release, but he'd had so many that he wanted to add that it turned into what we have now."

"He didn't tell me that," (Y/N) chirped, feeling herself begin to soften. She had known Harry had a large hand in the creative side of these collections, but she hadn't known that he had brought all of the ideas to the table for this one. "I don't know where he gets all of his inspiration between writing and everything with this. He never stops."

(Y/N)'s teasing comment prompted Molly to laugh along with her, both of them familiar with how hard Harry tended to push himself both creatively and physically.

"Like, you don't know," Molly said, amusement carrying over her words.

A pinch touched at (Y/N)'s brows, her hand slowing over her skin to leave her mascara as only smudges under her eyes. "What do you mean?"

It was Molly's turn to cant her head, her lashes fluttering as she blinked at (Y/N)'s reflection. "I thought that was why you decided to finally be a part of the shoot. That Harry told you."

For a heartbeat, (Y/N) swore she was in some kind of movie scene. The theatrics of the moment seemed to be blown out of proportion, if only in her eyes.

"Told me about what?"

At this, Molly seemingly realized that she may have hinted at something (Y/N) hadn't known anything about. She pursed her lips as if she wanted to keep in her next words, but both of them knew she didn't have much of a choice now that she had started on this avenue.

"That it's you—the inspiration for the collection. He wasn't very good at hiding it before he finally just told Lambert. All of the shades have something to do with you."

(Y/N) was hyper aware of Molly's words, even if the sound of her heart pumping began to flood through her ears.

Strings began to connect throughout the last month since he initially showed her the samples of the polishes. The crew neck he claimed he made with her in mind. The dual collection having four different shades of her favorite color—a fact about her he knew without a doubt. The varnish named after the pet name he had dubbed her as throughout the years, something he had immediately tied to her when she had pointed it out just that morning.

Maybe it was the new information getting to her head, but more and more pieced itself together. That lingering look he gave her in the mirror just moments earlier felt like more evidence, including the way he held her between shots today, tiny moments that didn't feel out of the ordinary for him. Now those memories could be tinted in rose as moments that were only ordinary because it was between the two of them.

"Oh," (Y/N) simply sounded, dropping her eyes from Molly's with a flutter of her lashes.

A beat passed before Molly piped up with an apology in her tone. "I'm sorry, (Y/N). I thought you knew, or I wouldn't have said anything."

"No, no, don't be sorry!" (Y/N) rushed, turning in her seat to match her eyes truly, "It's okay, I'm just surprised."

Casting her eyes around the dwindling room, Molly lowered her voice by the time she matched (Y/N)'s gaze once more. "Good surprise?"

Before (Y/N) could give an answer—one she wasn't even sure of—Harry joined their group, He reached towards his bag on the vanity, lookin at the two women with a question in his eyes. "Did you need a couple more minutes?" he asked, not-so-discreetly looking at the shadows left under (Y/N)'s eyes.

She could feel her stilted smile on her lips, but (Y/N) hoped Harry wouldn't notice. "Why? Did I miss something?"

Molly made a quiet getaway with a quick pat to Harry's shoulder, taking his attention for a moment as he gave a small way and murmured his goodbye. For a split second, Molly shot (Y/N) a sheepish glance before she was hustling through the space once more.

When Harry returned to (Y/N), his gaze was scrutinizing this time, a pinch to his brows as he ducked his head to be level with her.

"I don't think so, no," he said, answering her teasing remark. Reaching out, he gently dragged his fingertips over the soft skin of her under eye, picking up some of the smudgy mess on the pads of his fingers. Her breath caught in her throat at the touch, a stillness touching her muscles she hoped he wouldn't catch. He made a show of inspecting his hands with a comically deep frown on his lips. "Thought I saw something, but, no, y'got it all. Ready to go?"

Looking at her through the fan of his lashes, (Y/N) saw the teasing gleam to his eyes, though she swore there was something more floating in his irises.

Had that always been there?

"Um," she mumbled, dropping back into the moment, "Yeah, I'm ready."

The amusement in Harry's eyes faded at her stilted answer. Creases appeared between his eyes as he gazed at her, his bag loose in his hand. "Y'alright?"

"Yeah," she attempted to chirp, hopping out of her chair, "I think the day is just catching up to me and all. Just got really tired."

"Well, then," he started, standing to the full of his height before slinging an arm over her shoulder, "let's get y'home, lovie."

When he gave a small pulse to the cuff of her shoulder, his fingers denting the soft of her arm, (Y/N) tried to remember if it always felt that charged when he touched her.

—————

"Hey, you."

Harry held back a sigh when (Y/N) reached his open arms, burying his nose into her hair as she wrapped her arms around his middle. He settled instead for shuttering his eyes and sinking into her hold. It'd been a long week since he'd seen her last after taking her home after the Pleasing shoot; both he and (Y/N) seemed to be too busy to send more than a few texts to one another throughout the day. It wasn't a secret to him that (Y/N) was the brightest party of his day, but he hadn't realized just how good he had it until she had pulled back those days.

"How are you?" (Y/N) murmured, her voice muffled from the way her cheek was squished against his chest, "I feel like I've barely talked to you since last week."

"Me too," he said, drawing away just enough to see her face with his arms a warm loop around her, "I've been alright, though. You?"

Her eyes skated down his features long enough Harry swore he could feel her gaze like a touch from her hand. His skin warmed in her wake, a pinkened blush surely rising to the surface of his cheeks.

"I've been good," she finally answered, the heartbeat between his question and her response seeming hours long instead of mere seconds. "Just tired still. I feel like I haven't recovered from last weekend, yet."

"'M not surprised, y'worked hard." Harry dropped himself back into the moment, clearing his throat. "Molly emailed me some preliminary shots the other day."

Perking up in his arms, her eyes brightening. "She did? How did they look?"

A lopsided smile poked at the corner of his mouth. "I can show you, if y'want. Jus' need to grab m'laptop from m'room."

All it took was a giddy nod from her and a quiet yes, please! that had him untangling from her arms and heading towards his room.

As much as he wanted to stay right where he was in her arms, he needed a breath of air. Perhaps distance, no matter how small it was, really did make the heart grow fonder and Harry wasn't immune to the effects.

His paces were measured as he scaled his stairs to his bedroom, grabbing his laptop from where it was charging on the side of his bed. The email in question wasn't hard to find, especially since one of his favorite shots—the polaroid one production assistant had nabbed of he and (Y/N) snuggling during a break—was now his home screen on his phone. (And, one of (Y/N)'s official shots was now her contact photo).

Heading downstairs, he found her already making herself at home on his couch. With a blanket his mom had knitted for him thrown over her legs, she was scrolling through her phone despite the streaming service pulled up on his television.

"Comfy already, lovie?" he laughed, crossing from the landing to take his own spot next to her.

"A little," she answered, decidedly reserved in her teasing. That had been much of how it was this past week, (Y/N) too distracted, or tired, or whatever it was to play with him too much. He hoped it truly was nothing more than being a little tired.

Leaning in close, he settled his laptop on his thighs as he pulled up the attachments. Beginning to card through the photos, he offered a short explanation, "They're not edited completely yet, but we've got some of the effects added. We're still picking which shots are going to be used for the site and which will be used for the socials, but it all turned out really well."

Even as every picture lit up his screen, the pad of his finger on the touchpad, Harry favored watching (Y/N)'s reactions as opposed to looking at the shots themselves. He wanted to know if she loved it as much as he did.

The bright colors cast washes of pale color over her skin, shining like the moon at times with others giving a petal softness to the high points of her face. He could tell when a picture of her appeared with the way she rolled her lips between her teeth, a quiet bashfulness softening the edges of her features.

"Wait, wait, go back," (Y/N) asked, leaning forward as if to get a closer look at a missed photo.

Peeling his gaze away from her profile, Harry looked to his laptop to see the photo that had caught her attention was the same one that he favored. An artistically framed shot of their polaroid filled his screen, the nature of the camera already giving fuzzied edges to their forms, an extra set of dreamy editing adding that much more to the sight.

"Y'like this one?" he murmured, a delicate edge to his voice.

"When did they take this one?" she asked, her voice a quiet whisper for only him to hear.

"During that break, remember? Lambert and Molly had an assistant going around to get production shots, and they caught us," he smiled, reliving that moment with her in his arms and the warmth of her form against his, "We're thinking about using this in one of the social shots."

(Y/N) was silent then, her eyes flitting over every pixel that made up the photo. He hadn't expected her to go so quiet.

"But, we don't have to use it if y'don't want to," Harry carefully offered, already rearranging the composition of the offered rollout to accommodate her if she was so uncomfortable. "I can talk to Mo—"

"No, no, that's not—" she started, stumbling some through her words when she managed to meet his eyes finally, "I just... Can I ask you something?"

The connotations of the phrase had Harry's heart fumbling and palms sweating right away. "'Course. What is it?"

Hesitating as she rolled her lips between her teeth, (Y/N) let his words hang between them for a few heartbeats too long.

"Molly told me something after the shoot," she started, her words careful and calculated, "I wanted to know if it was true."

He couldn't imagine what Molly would have shared that would have had (Y/N) so cryptic and unsure. "Okay," he offered, drawling over the word.

"She said..." (Y/N) paused, dropping her eyes from his until they landed on the hollow of his throat—a safe place to look when she was too afraid of his reaction. His palms became that much more clammy. "She said something about how this collection was about... me. That you told Harry that you had all these ideas because they were from me."

In the same moment that time attempted to stop, everything in Harry's body went into overdrive. Was it safe to feel his heartbeat in the base of his throat? Was it normal to want to suck in more air than his lungs needed?

What was he supposed to say to that?

More importantly: what answer did (Y/N) want to hear?

Would she be excited to hear that yes, everything Molly had told her was true and he just didn't know how to tell her himself. It was easier to manifest it all into cute little nail polishes and matching stickers. Or did she want him to say no, Molly's imagination had run a bit too wild, or she had heard him wrong, or, or, or—

"Yes," he suddenly blurted out, his mouth ahead of his brain.

(Y/N) blinked at him. Her eyes floated back to his, bewildered at his blunt answer. "Yes, it's true?"

The dam that was his filter had too big of a crack to be properly repaired, it appeared. There was no holding back the river.

"Yes," he affirmed, a weight in his chest pushing the words out before he could offer more thought, "The—um—the yellow one with the gold glitter, it matches the dress y'wore the first time y'came to one of m'shows. And, pink is your favorite color, so I wanted to make as many different ones as we could so you'd have as many as y'wanted to wear. I don't even know if y'have this lipstick anymore, but the red was to match the one y'were wearing when we met. A-All of them are for—about you."

By the time he managed to zip his lips, there was still plenty to be said but he figured the rambling was more than enough to both humiliate himself and put (Y/N) on the spot.

The longer she didn't say anything in response, the more Harry sweat. His thoughts were nothing but a swirl heading down a drain, too heavy and incoherent to make sense of.

"(Y/N), I—I didn't m—"

As quick as he opened his mouth like a guppy, fumbling over his words, he was silenced with (Y/N) pressing her kiss to his lips.

It was startling at first, taking every ribbon holding him together unraveled, turning him into a scramble. It was only when he felt a careful smile spread over her mouth and she drew away a hair that Harry came alive.

This was what he'd dreamt of, why was he wasting it?

Molding his lips to hers, Harry tasted the soft curve of her cupid's bow when he tucked his bottom lip between her two. Faint traces of a fruity chapstick remained on her mouth, though the only taste he got was her. There was no other way to describe the fragrance other than it being (Y/N). Every soft parting and letting of their mouths gave him a rush of that essence, pulling him in deeper and deeper each time.

The laptop on his thighs was a forgotten object as he turned his body to face her, the device sliding somewhere among the cushions of his couch. His hand landed carefully on the soft of her cheek, feeling a warmth blooming in her skin under his palm. He could feel every pacing of her muscles, feeling how her body moved for no other purpose than to kiss him. It brought a pinch to his brow, an unfurling happening in his chest he couldn't even begin to unpack right then.

While it wasn't an urgent, explicit kiss, Harry didn't want to pull away first. Hours could have been spent on his couch just like this, if not for the fact (Y/N) decided she needed air more than his kiss.

Following her cue, he gave her some space when she drew away. Her skin was warm as she blinked her eyes open to match his own. He watched as a smile spread over her lips the longer she looked at him.

"You like me?"

A peal of laughter fell from Harry's lips, bursting through his chest and filling his bones.

"Maybe. Why?"

(Y/N)'s laughter filled the one place his own happiness couldn't fill quite as well: his heart.

—————

Pleasing's Cupid Collection available now.

(Y/N) barely noticed the notification sliding down the top of her screen, seeing as she was already on the main page of the brand's website. Refreshing the site, the homepage completely rearranged to showcase the dual collection now available for patrons to browse, her own face flashing in the campaign video playing at the top of the page. It was terrifying and thrilling at the same time.

Was this how Harry felt every time he released music? Or really anything for the world to see?

With the way her heart hammered in her chest, she wasn't sure how he survived things like this.

Another notification pinged at the top of her phone. Pleasing had just made a post on Instagram.

Tapping on the dropdown, she was taken from the Pleasing page and to her instagram app. The new post popped up automatically.

The shot showcased a collection of polaroid photos, some of behind the scenes shots of official photos for the campaign and others showing candid moments between the models and production during the making of the shoot. They were all laid out on a satiny pink sheet, a dreamy filter adding gleaming lights and iridescent shifts throughout the page.

There was one familiar polaroid that caught her eye—one that was barely within frame but something she had seen enough times she could spot with the barest of pixels. Just barely, she could see herself leaning against the chest of someone who was almost completely cut out of the frame, leaving only a set of arms to be seen wrapped around her shoulders with her eyes closed in contentment.

Just barely, through the haze of the filter, (Y/N) could see a small tattoo on her companion's hand: a black cross.

As if being summoned by her thoughts alone, those same arms draped themselves around her from where she stood in the middle of the kitchen. Harry's chin settled on her shoulder, looking at her screen as she pulled up the comments on the photos.

"What's everyone saying?" he murmured, his lips pressing against the column of her throat in a delicate kiss.

The smile that landed on her lips was tender and instinctual, something that settled there without her permission. She didn't have to truly read any of the commented reactions to know the public's opinion.

"They love it," she told him, voice a quiet croon.

"Yeah?" His smile was audible in his tone. "I think this one's gonna be the most popular yet."

"You think so?" (Y/N) questioned, swiping out of the reactions if only to see the glimpse of their polaroid once more.

Placing a gentle hand on her cheek, Harry tipped her chin to face him. There was a gleam in his eyes that (Y/N) never realized was so familiar until the first time they kissed. There was a small tug to the corner of his lips, a single dimple denting his cheek.

"Yeah. I've jus' got a feeling."

He dipped his head, pressing his lips to hers.

—————

:)))) thank you for reading, so sorry if there's any mistakes and if theres any questions or anything you have please please send them in! I hope you enjoyed :)

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silky-wind · 2 years

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In 5 Easy Steps, Learn How To Apply Makeup

Makeup is not easy to learn, You need to keep several things in mind while applying makeup on your face. Here I am sharing some easy to learn steps to apply makeup. Check out this infographic and give your thoughts about it.

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mandarinmoons · 2 months

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SLUMBER PARTY WITH REID!!

brainiac bsf surprises you when your feeling down with the idea of sleep over. pretty boy has never had a sleep over, but boy does he wanna sleep over with you. he suggests a movie and chinese takeout but you’ve got things to add to that list. you get him to do face masks with you and convince him to let you paint his nails pink and he feigns annoyance but he’s actually just happy to see you in a happy mood. you best bet he will be shy coming into work with those rose colored nails, that he isn’t a fan of, but at least his face is as smooth as a baby’s bum 😭😭

“Spence, hold still or else I’ll get the nail polish on your fingers!”

Spencer sighed as you tightened your grip on his hand and carefully applied the pink paint on his fingernails. He smiled to himself seeing how your tongue poked out of your mouth in concentration, he thought you looked adorable.

This is not how he expected his evening to go. Spencer mentioned how he’s never been to a sleepover before and suggested having one seeing how you’d been a bit down lately. What he thought would be you two cuddling under the sheets, having some take out while watching a movie, turned into something else very fast. The second you heard the word “sleepover” your mind went straight to doing face masks and painting each other’s nails, which you were currently doing.

“Okay and… done! Don’t touch them for a few minutes to let them dry.”

Spencer’s eyebrows knitted together as he tried to get used to the feeling of the polish on his fingers. It looked nice but the fumes were making him feel a bit dizzy, but he didn’t say a word to you as he saw how happy you seemed for the first time in a while.

This is going to be fun explaining to Morgan

“How does your face feel?”

“It feels a bit… tight,” Spencer’s answer was mumbled as the clay mask he had on made it hard to move his face. You chuckled as you saw him try to move his face in order to gain some sort of feeling back, but the beauty product rendered it useless.

“That means it’s time to take it off. Let me help.”

You took a damp washcloth and gently ran it over Spencer’s face, removing the mask and the impurities it took with it.

Spencer felt as though he could fall asleep right then and there, you ran the cloth over his face so lightly and he felt so well loved and taken care of. He didn’t think humans had the ability to be this tender until he met you.

“All nice and clean,” you ran your thumb over his cheek, feeling the effect the mask left on his skin.

“It feels nice.”

“It does, doesn’t it?”

Spencer nodded and you kissed his cheek, your lips barely making contact with his skin. Spencer reached out and pulled you closer to him, your nose squishing against his cheek in the process which caused both of you to laugh.

“I’m really glad we did this.”

“I am too.”

Taking Spencer’s hand into your own, you ran your thumb over his fingers, taking in the hard work you put into them.

“Hmm…”

“What’s wrong?”

“I made a mistake.”

“What do you mean? I think they look nice.”

“No, I mean yeah they look good, but this is so not your color.”

Spencer rolled his eyes as you chuckled and kissed his cheek again.

“It only means I get to paint your nails again.”

“Whatever it takes to make you happy, angel.”

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Let me know your thoughts in the comments and like & reblog to support <3

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foxxsta · 2 years

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Website : https://www.foxxsta.com/

Address : 271 Brunker Rd, Adamstown, NSW 2289

Foxxsta is a Nail & Beauty store that offers nail glue and nail lamps with thumb lights for efficient work in the home or workplace.

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reallykaz · 6 months

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— .best date ever! // matt sturniolo

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

plot summary : when the cute guy in your class asks you out on a date, you’re more than happy to go. but you didn’t expect a fun time at the amusement park would end in the back seat of his car with your clothes off and his lips on yours.

content warnings : very mature themes (18+ MINORS DNI) strong language, small mention of anxiety. fluffy plot with porn at the end! first date things and matt being down bad for reader. tension in a photobooth ;) smutty car sex, oral sex and unprotected p in v (pls don’t do this!be safe!)

a/n : i’m a slut for a man who can drive. that’s it. also this is my first time writing smut so i hope it's up to standards lmaooo i really dk how i feel about this either… like always all likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated <333

wc : 5.5k

"Fuck! I have nothing to wear!"

Saturday night and you were stressing, half of your closet was scattered around your bedroom floor and your desk was a mess with makeup and hair products. The whole room smelt like perfume, vanilla lotion and nail polish from the last two hours you’ve been getting ready.

It was finally the night of your date with Matt and you were beyond nervous. You’ve known each other since middle school but you mostly talked in English class for the past four years - just simple ‘hi’s’ and exchanged smiles.

It took you by surprise when Matt asked you out on Wednesday because you had no idea that he had any type of attraction for you. In school he was quiet, played a few sports and only hung out with his brothers and best friends. You didn’t know much other than that.

Stalking his instagram didn’t offer much

But you were glad he was taking you out. It was the first time a guy has actually wanted to go on a date with you and Matt seemed really genuine. You were excited for once because usually being with guys has always left you feeling used, empty and no good. But this was different.

Matt had asked you for your number too when he asked you out and obviously you couldn’t say no when he looked down at you like you hung the moon so you had been texting each other a couple times for the past three days.

It was only very casual but instead of asking for pictures of your tits, he’d actually ask about your day and would make you laugh with unfunny jokes. So yeah, it was definitely different.

After twenty hectic minutes later and your mom bombarding your personal space to ask about the date, you had finally picked out an outfit - cute and simple with a hint of sexy and hot. It was good and you looked good in it.

When your phone vibrated from a message notification, you knew it was Matt and your gut swirled with butterflies. After dousing yourself in some more perfume, topped up your lipgloss and fixed up your hair, you check your phone.

from matt🤍 i’m outside :)

You immediately go into panic mode when you hear the doorbell ring and you couldn’t have ran downstairs any faster than right now. "Honey? Is that your date? I wanna meet –

"Bye mom! Be back by midnight! Love you!" Matt drops the kind smile and rehearsed lines in his head when you’re slamming your front door and dragging him back to the car by his hand as he looks back in case your parents walked out, "Was I not supposed to knock? I didn’t know."

You glance at your door when you turn to him, looking up with a smile. "It’s okay, I just didn’t want my mom to start yapping on if she saw you, we’d both we there for hours." Matt nods at your explanation, forgetting about the flowers in his hand when he actually looks at you.

His eyes trail up and down to check you out, the way your skirt clung to your hips was enough to make his head spin and cock twitch. Matt couldn’t believe that tonight he was the one you were all dressed up pretty for and the thought made his tummy swirl. He felt more nervous after realising he was staring.

Luckily you didn’t even notice because you were doing the exact same thing. Your eyes trained on the chain around his neck before they glance all the way down to the rings on his hands and that’s when you see the sweet smelling flowers. You try to ignore the veins popping out from how tight he was holding them. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck

"These are for you,"

Matt holds out the flowers and you grab them off of him, fingers brushing against his as you beam. "This is really sweet, Matt. You didn’t have to do all of this," you couldn’t believe you were already blushing over some flowers and Matt just shakes his head with a smile, "I wanted to, don’t worry."

There’s a pause when Matt just looks down at you, bashful smiles on both of your faces and he liked the way your eyes looked more light with the sunset in your face. Now, there was tension in the air surrounding the two of you.

"Well thank you, really." Your voice was genuine but small, turning shy under Matt’s gaze as you avoid his eyes by looking at the flowers in awe.

"C’mon, let’s go." You look up and see Matt holding the passenger door open, "get in." He nods his head and you comply, leaning down to get in the car and immediately smelling his natural scent. It was nice, sort of safe.

"Where are we even going anyways?"

—

"Oh my god! You’re such a cheat!"

A loud set of giggles escape your mouth when you see Matt get more and more aggravated from the game of mini golf. He hides his own smile whilst shaking his head, focusing on getting his blue ball into the hole where your red one was already in, sitting nicely. "I am not!"

The fluorescent lights from the Ferris wheel was reflecting down on both of your faces, brightening the whole mini golf course in multicolours and it made the whole experience better. The amusement park was really busy for a Saturday night so when you both arrived, Matt used the excuse of 'not wanting to lose you' to hold your hand. It was silly but it made you smile anyways.

You then spent the next two hours holding his hand, laughing and competing against each other in those little mini game stalls that gave you a teddy as a prize. But Matt had won you a little heart keychain that already held so much significance to you already, you knew you'd keep it forever. He then dragged you on a couple of rollercoaster rides with the promise that you could drag him into mini golf afterwards.

Matt didn't realise that you were actually really good at it.

"I'm gonna get this next one, just watch." After throwing you a promising look, Matt focuses on the ball and you grin at the way his tongue poked out in concentration before he hits it with his little matching blue club and it finally goes into the hole. "See? Told you," his eyes light up when he looks back up at you with a smug smile on his face and you match his excitement, naturally wrapping your arms around his shoulders for a hug. "I knew you could!"

Matt's heart flutters for the 100th time tonight and he completely melts into your touch, wrapping his hands around your waist tightly. Your bodies swayed together in a moment of celebration and Matt could feel how warm you were against him.

"But guess what?" You both pulled away but you still kept yourself close when you look up at Matt with a playful smile and twinkling eyes that made him adore you, "what?" He knew full well what but seemed to find himself enjoying entertaining your banter in the last few hours.

"I still win," you let out a soft chuckle at his teasing glare, positively ignoring the way his simple touch made you feel so alive when you hugged. "Do you?" Matt questions quietly, tilting his head to the side that made you mirror his expression. Before you could answer, his hands were wrapped back around your waist and tickling your sides.

To an outsiders perspective, you and Matt looked like a young and happy couple that were very much in love with one another. The way your bodies just naturally gravitated towards each other so easily with either a simple touch or a quick glance seemed normal.

Matt was comforting. And he made you feel safe in every sense of the meaning. It was difficult to describe how you felt right now because you didn't understand it whatsoever but you knew you could be your genuine self and that's what mattered the most. You just had no idea how to tell him or if you should say anything at all.

"Ah! Stop! I can't breathe!"

Matt lets out a loud laugh, letting go of your body to almost keel over in laughter at the snort that just appeared in the middle of giggles. Your cheeks burn in embarrassment, eyes wide as you hold your cheeks in complete disbelief that Matt just heard your ugly laugh on the first date. "Oh my god! Pretend you didn't hear that."

"No way that just happened," Matt calms his laughter, looking at the way your cheeks burned red and smiling. He knew you were embarrassed but he didn’t want you to be, it was cute.

But in hopes to make you feel better, he quickly changed the subject.

Turning to grab the golf balls, he walks over to throws an arm around your shoulder and pulls you close. "C’mon, let’s go winner." You jokingly poke his side that makes him flinch and it makes you both laugh, "you’re such an idiot."

—

It had maybe been a half hour later and more smiles and small touches had been shared over some cinnamon churros. The sky was pitch black now and the air was colder. The amusement park was becoming more packed with teenagers and college kids instead of the typical families with their small children.

You could tell that Matt was more comfortable around you now in comparison to when he first picked you up. Conversation was easy with him, talking about anything or anyone and still finding it interesting. You learned more about the sports he played and his family and friends.

The conversations never expanded any deeper than casual and it was actually a relief. For some reason you wanted to find things about Matt through time and peeling back layers the more you got to know each other. You liked it better that way because it was real to you.

"Oh look! There’s a photobooth,"

Matt’s eyes looked away from you to glance at whatever you were pointing at in hopes you didn’t catch him staring and was thankful for the colourful string lights scattered above you that cleverly hid his blush. His fingers brushed softly against yours when you walked side by side, itching to touch you.

He had been stealing shy glances at you all night and kept thinking about how he could ask you out again after the night was over. But all night his anxious mind had tried to betray him and things like holding your hand needed a lot of courage to do despite the relieved feeling afterwards.

"You wanna go?" His hands twitched at his sides and when you look back at Matt with a smile, his mind went blank when you grabbed his hand this time with such ease. "C’mon," you dragged him towards the empty photobooth, quickly dodging the crowds of people in your way in hopes it’ll stay empty. "Excuse me! Thank you!"

Your hand was still holding his when you looked past the beige curtain and down at the tiny seat that was supposed to fit the both of you. "Oh."

Matt entwined his hand away from yours to slip past you and sit on the seat, manspreading and tapping his lap. "Come here," you watch in awe and the low tone of his voice gives you no choice but to lower yourself down on his thigh, fiddling with the ends of your skirt shyly. "Is this okay?"

Matt didn’t answer and just pulled the curtain shut and leaving you both under shitty, dim lights and away from everyone’s eyes.

"Are you okay?" His voice soft when he looks back at you, glancing at your lips and back to your eyes. Your heart races from the closeness and you just let out a strangled hum, "mhm." You nod.

Matt just gives you a cocky grin, "good." The heat between your legs throbs when his arm wraps around your waist and rests on your bare thigh to toy with the bottom of your skirt. He leans over to touch the screen, tightening his grip on your body and you could barely focus.

You were convinced he knew what he was doing and the worst thing about it was that it felt right. You didn’t want anything like this to happen tonight, if anything, nothing sexual at all with Matt because you were scared of losing something you never had.

But whatever this was felt different.

"You ready?" You blinked at him, an arm wrapped around his neck when he just looks at you. A look so simple that made you feel so much. "Yeah," you try to disregard your thoughts for the next five minutes of happiness.

Matt caught you by surprise when he squished your face for the first photo and just before the light flashed, you squished his face too. The two of you trying to smile at the camera with your hands wrapped around each other’s faces.

"Funny faces?" You suggested for the next photo, blissfully unaware of Matt’s hand coming over your head when he nods in agreement. The second shot is with Matt sticking his tongue out and looking at your cross eyes and your pout, trying not to laugh at the bunny ears.

Afterwards, you both just laughed together.

"Hey, look at me," Matt whispers and gently grabs your jaw to pull your face towards his, the small smile on your face disappearing when your eyes meet. Your skin turned hot when his fingers began stroking up and down your thigh lightly, making your skirt shift further up your hips. "Yeah?" You felt breathless.

Neither of you realise the camera just took another shot because all Matt could focus on was the need to kiss you. He was already half hard in his jeans just from you sitting on his lap and he could feel the cotton of your panties rub against his thigh. You were driving him crazy.

Matt really did want to kiss you more than anything and he knew you did too with the way you leaned closer and fluttered your eyes but he just couldn't. He had no idea why and it was frustrating, he felt like a complete coward. Why can't he just kiss you?

Your face drops when Matt lets out a frustrated sigh, dropping his hand and leaning his head into your neck to close his eyes. "You're so beautiful," he whines softly and you can feel him leave a quick peck to your skin which makes you feel weak so you look down at him in confusion. "Is something wrong?" You ask lowly.

When Matt looks into your eyes, you could see how his pupils were blown out and it was captivating. For a moment you're convinced he's either going to tell you what's up or kiss you when his lips part but nothing happens and you feel confused. "Matt?"

The loud speaker of an AI voice cuts you both off to let you know that your photos have been printed and to leave the booth. You let out a sigh when Matt immediately stands up, gently pushing you off his lap and pulling the curtain back open. You couldn't even focus on anything else when you follow after Matt like a puppy.

"Matt?" You call after him when you see that he was walking away, "Where are you going?" Pulling back his tattooed arm to make him look at your frown and you notice the strip of photos of you both in his hand. You couldn't figure out what he was thinking with the way he was looking down at you. "I thought we were having a good night."

In reality, Matt felt embarrassed. His mind was working in overdrive and wouldn't blame you if you thought he was an asshole. He was angry at himself for leading you on like that because that was never his intention. He really did want to kiss you and touch you without worrying constantly about little things.

"Let me take you home, yeah?"

Matt spoke softly but didn't wait for an answer from you before walking through the carpark and you once again had no other choice but to follow after him. You didn't want to end the night like this. You refused to.

"I don't want to go home yet," Matt hears you whisper and feels your hand pulling on his arm again so he turns back around to glance down at you. He sighs when he sees the dejected look in your eyes but the touch of your fingers trailing his tattoos makes his head spin and now he could only think about one thing.

"Get in the car."

The low hum of Matt's playlist was playing quietly when he drives into an empty carpark, surrounded by nothing but trees. Since the Photobooth incident, neither of you have talked and you're pretty sure Matt hasn't even looked your way. "Where are we?"

There’s a pause that makes you look at Matt properly. You knew he wanted to say something with the look on his face and you felt bad. It was like one moment the two of you were having the best night ever to being in awkward silence.

"I’m sorry."

You didn’t know why Matt was apologising to you because there was nothing to apologise for, not really anyways. You weren’t that much of a bitch to get angry at him for what happened earlier because it was clear there was more to it.

"You don’t have to say -

"I like you, okay?" This catches you off guard - even after all of the hand holding and longing glances tonight - it doesn't stop the fluttery feeling in your gut from hearing it out loud.

"I really really like you." Matt's voice breaks in desperation and you look at him staring at his front wheel like it's the most interesting thing ever. The light in the car was dimly lit so it was hard to read Matt's expression from the angle you're sitting at.

Matt doesn’t give you a second to reply, "and every second of this night has been like heaven and now i feel like such an asshole for leading you on like that because that was never my intention. I would never do that to you."

Finally, your eyes meet.

"I really did want to kiss you." The needy tone in his voice was driving you crazy and your body slowly gravitated towards his over the console. Matt never took his eyes off of you, eyes glancing at your lips when you speak. "It’s okay."

The way you’re looking at him now was enough for Matt to grab your face and bring your lips to his. You can feel the coldness of his rings on your skin when his tongue slips into your mouth and it makes you whimper, clenching your thighs together and reaching for Matt.

A strangled groan escapes his throat when he feels your hand pulling on his hair and he has to stop himself from dragging you on his lap. The low music playing in the background is drowned out by your lips smacking together and all of the pent up feelings Matt's had all night has just rushed straight to his dick. He had to pull away.

"Fuck." Matt mumbles and you watch him try to adjust his jeans, lifting his hips and pulling on the waistband. Your lips are plumper than usual and you slowly wipe them with a small smile when Matt looks over at you, "You're driving me crazy."

You know Matt's hard when you glance back down but you're taken by surprise when you really see how big he is. His rushed attempt of tucking it into his waistband was a failure. Matt knows you've seen how hard he was and it makes him blush. When he feels your hand trailing up and down his arm, it makes his breath hitch and that makes you smirk, "You're so cute."

"Shut up." He's smiling when he kisses you again and it does in fact shut you up. The kiss turns from sweet and tender to rough and needy in a second. Once you feel Matt's hands trail from your face and down your body, you're the first one to initiate more when you grab his hand and guide it between your thighs.

Matt pulls away and with half-lidded eyes, he looks down to see your legs spread and your flipped skirt covering his hand. "You're so wet," he chuckles softly when you moan, eyes rolling back when his fingers touch you through your panties. "This is what you do to me."

"Do you-" Matt stops mid sentence when you begin to kiss down his neck and pulls away to look at you properly, "Do you wanna go in the backseat?" You notice how blown out his pupils look and it makes his eyes darker in the dim light and you imagine looking at them every morning as you both lay together with the warm light reflecting through the windows.

Matt gets nervous at your silence.

"We don't have to, I don't expect anything from you if that's what you're wondering." He reassures, not wanting to say the wrong thing and scare you off. In all honesty, Matt didn't expect anything like this to happen when he kissed you but this was in the moment and for some reason it felt right. But he'd never make you do anything you weren't comfortable with. "I can just take you home if that's -

"I want to." You cut him off.

"Yeah?" Matt sighs with relief and he smiles when you nod. "Yeah." You mirror his smile and with a quick kiss to your lips, you watch him unbuckle his seatbelt and climb into the backseat with such ease that makes you wonder if he's done this before.

"C'mere." Matt taps his lap and you glance down at his dick once more before climbing over the seats to go to him. In your perfectly awkward fashion, you end up practically tripping into Matt's lap and he quickly grabs the back of your thighs to steady you as you both giggle quietly together. "Sorry." You whisper.

"You really are beautiful," The way he looks up at you feels so intimate and sincere that it makes you think that nobody has ever looked at you like Matt does and that realisation was scary yet so endearing. "I bet you say that to all of the girls you seduce into the backseat of your car," You joke with a playful eye roll and it makes him laugh.

"I really like you."

"I really like you too."

You can't wipe the grin on your face when Matt leans up to kiss you, his hands trailing around your body. "And you're the only girl I've ever seduced into the backseat of my car," he whispers against your lips before kissing you softly, the both of your eyes fluttering closed.

Your hands wander down his chest to the bottom of his shirt when your tongues swirl together and you can still taste the sweet cinnamon on his tongue from earlier. When you feel Matt's hands moving up your thighs slowly, you begin to tug off his shirt and he pulls away from the kiss to take it off and throw it on the floor.

"You too." Matt whispers and his hands are playing with the hem of your dress, looking up at you to make sure if that's what you want. Your heart is pounding when you lift yourself up off Matt's lap to take off your dress that leaves you in your matching lace set and when you see his eyes light up, it makes you feel better.

"Is this okay?"

"More than okay." Matt reassures softly and his touch feels ten times hotter now you're half naked that it makes you feel goosebumps. He leans up to kiss your chest and his hands find themselves back between your thighs and it all feels so overwhelming in the best way possible. "Can I touch you?" The way he asks makes you melt.

"Mhm, please." You beg with your head nodding and grinding your hips into his hand. "Please touch me, Matt." Your desperateness makes his cock twitch and he ignores it with a smirk, gently pulling your thong to the side and running a finger through your folds before finding your clit and that makes your thighs twitch when you drop your head on his shoulder with a whine, "Fuck."

"You’re so needy for me." He says so smugly, easily slipping two fingers in you and feeling how wet you are. You reply with moan, riding your hips when he curls it upwards and he can feel you squeeze around him and Matt can’t wait till you’re doing the same thing around his cock.

When Matt starts rubbing his thumb against your clit at the same time, you’re moving your hands down to his clothed crotch and feeling how hard he is. He groans lowly when your hand wraps around his print, "and I’m needy?"

"Don’t tease me." His fingers slip out of you to grip onto your thighs tightly and you begin to undo his belt and jeans. "Let me show you how much I like you, okay?" Matt lifts his hips up to pull down his pants when you drop to your knees, staring up at him through your lashes and playing with the waistband of his boxers. "Okay."

Matt lets out a moan of relief and throws his head back when you finally pull them down and take his dick in your mouth. He didn't think you could get any prettier but seeing you like this was heavenly – it was like all of his 14 year old fantasies coming true.

"Oh my god, sweetheart." You feel Matt's hands grabbing your hair and gently moving it out of your face so he could really look at you. You hum with his cock in your mouth and when he moans from the vibrations, you try to go deeper and you can feel his tip at the back of your throat and the salty taste of his pre-cum makes you choke. "Fuck. You don't have to do that."

"I wanted to." You smile sweetly and look up at Matt, watching the way he licks his lips when you rub your thumb against his swollen red tip and a strangled noise escapes his throat. Your knees are beginning to hurt but just before you could wrap your mouth around him again, Matt is holding your face and pulling you back up to his face.

"I really want to fuck you." Matt whispers lowly when he leans up to kiss your neck and just before you straddle him again, his hands are pulling your thong down your legs and toying with the lace on it. "Let me ride you." You whisper and Matt feels his heart race at the way you're looking at him as if he had no choice but to let you.

A small squeal leaves your throat when Matt pulls you on his lap abruptly and you both chuckle lowly before you're grabbing his face and kissing his lips as if your life depended on it.

His hands come up to undo your bra and when it comes off a few seconds later, you definitely know he's done this before. You grind your hips so you can feel his tip rub against your clit that feels so good that you pull away from the kiss to moan.

Matt's breathless when his hands grip your hips, helping you grind against him and feeling you get wetter by the second, "I don't have a condom." When he says this, you don't really think it through stupidly enough and just shake your head. "It's okay. I'm on the pill." This moment felt too nice to just stop and Matt just went along with it – obviously thinking with his dick.

When Matt finally thrusts up into you, the stretch stings and you've really underestimated how big he is because he already feels so deep. It was one thing having him in your mouth but when he's fucking up into you like this felt so much more intense and you couldn't tell if you were just really cock drunk or completely in love.

Probably both.

"Fuck, I swear this pussy was made for me."

Definitely both.

"It's yours." You moan when you ride your hips on his dick, pushing him down on the seat and Matt is in amazement when he looks up at you with flushed cheeks. His hands are trailing up and down your body, wanting to touch everywhere all at once when he leans up to try and kiss you. "All yours." You whisper and his lips are on yours.

The kiss is messy, hot and passionate all at once and when your movements gets faster, you're practically moaning into each other's mouths. The car slowly moves with rhythm and you subconsciously pray nobody can see from outside even if it's dark because it's really obvious with the steamed up windows around you both.

Matt notices the way your thighs begin to shake and the way your bouncing becomes quicker, "Are you gonna cum?"

You let out a mix between a hum and a moan, nodding your head when you feel your legs begin to burn. But just as you feel the familiar tightness in your tummy, Matt's holding your waist tightly and thrusting up so hard into you, it makes you cum instantly and you gush around him.

The music playing softly in the background is drowned out by your loud moans and Matt has a smug smirk on his face when your eyes roll back and your orgasm takes over until he feels his own. In all honestly, he was ready to bust the minute he was inside you but he had to make you cum first. It was a priority.

In your post orgasm haze, you don't even feel Matt lifting you off his dick until you see his cum spurting out onto his hand and tummy. "Mhm, fuck." Rolling his head back, Matt groans lowly and it makes your pussy flutter when you watch breathlessly.

The two of you are covered in a thin layer of sweat with flushed skin and neither of you care about the smell of sex surrounding you from being too high off of the pheromones. A part of you is shocked that you've just fucked someone on the first date but the other part is okay with it because it's Matt.

Matt. Matt. Matt.

"Did you really mean it?"

You blink to see Matt looking down at his hands on your body, tracing shapes on your hips gently. "Hm? What?" You swallow and he gulps, slowly looking up into your eyes, "Did you mean it? When you said you're all mine?" You can tell he's nervous when he asks this, almost afraid of your response, and your hands fall on top of his. "Yeah."

He hides his smile and you speak up again, "Did you want me to mean it?" Matt locks his fingers into yours when he nods, "Yeah."

You smile happily and lean in to kiss him softly, being careful of the mess between the two of you. It was a sweet kiss with a lot of feelings shown behind it, the type that makes you feel butterflies and never forget for a long time because it really meant something.

"'Good. Because I really want to do this again." Even after that kiss and the hottest sex you've ever had in your life, you're still nervous to bring up the idea of a second date but Matt's face just lights up. "Oh I'm definitely taking you out again. Don't worry about that."

He sounds cocky and it makes you laugh, running a hand through his messy hair and making it even messier. "I'm really looking forward to it." Matt pokes at your blushing cheeks with a small smile, appreciating the way you sound so sweet and genuine talking about seeing him again.

It felt hopeful.

There's so much Matt wants to say but now he knew there was more time. This definitely wasn't a one off thing and deep down he knew this wasn't just a crush either. He's not even sure if it ever was just a 'crush' because how could anyone just have a crush on you?

That was impossible.

"Does this mean you'll seduce me into the backseat of your car on the second date?" You joke playfully, holding back your laughter with a silly grin and when Matt laughs, so do you.

"You're an idiot." There’s a pause.

"But if you're lucky," He says lowly once you both stop laughing and you just tilt your head in response, "You'll end up in my bed."

"Is that a promise?"

"Yep."

#matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fic #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #–stargirl fics

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sorensolsikke · 1 month

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here's some punk diy tips and ideas

[other than crusty pants and battle jacket, although we still love those greatly.]

why should you diy, when you can just find decorated items everywhere, you can ask. what if you are clumsy at painting or anything?

firstly, good questions. we diy so we don't give credit to the big companies who rule the world. we diy to get more independent from the system we dislike. we diy so to save money. to express uniqueness, recognize eachother and be recognized. and especially to have fun and feel cool. diy is not only about clothing, but anything you can set your mind on. of course, one cannot make EVERYTHING for themselves, there isn't enough time and energy. but making at least small steps are already a statement and more than nothing. also, helping small artists by buying their products is also pretty punk.

that being said, i provide you with some tips of mine, all gained from experience:

anything you drew/painted on, you will WANT TO protect. acrylic paint/markers + acrylic paint varnish/transparent nail polish/textile medium are your best friends. read after anything that's new to you.

i highly recommend working with old clothing or thrift shop finds when it comes to textiles, as it is environmentally friendly and you will stay in budget. Anyways, always make sure that the material you use isn't gonna be problematic. for example, if you want to do some patchwork, the material shouldn't decay easily (if it does, it will come off so quickly.). if you want to paint on it, it shouldn't be rugged.

you can not only draw/paint on your canvas shoes, but can also sew, embroidery (just make sure to use a thimble, plus floss instead of thread could make your work more durable), and add beads and trinkets to your shoelaces. in the case of shoes, never use glue (neither hot nor instant glue) – it will come off quickly. for some inspiration, i'll show you my shoes!

(the fake moss is literally unstoppable from falling off or getting dirty. risky idea.)

it's good to carry around water and food!! you don't even have to pay for decorative water bottles and food boxes, as you can draw on glass and plastic just fine with acrylic markers. just don't forget to paint transparent nail polish all over your drawing. in at least two layers. don't be lazy or laid-back. even posca comes off while washing the dishes. and you WANT TO save your reference pictures/final designs, as the case of emergency is likely. but after all, my water bottle is exactly fine after six months, with no accuring problem.

if your current best option to get stickers from is aliexpress or overpriced decor stores, search for local artists and shops on instagram and tiktok, as it may be their most efficent way of getting you to know them. if it seems like you have no chance, you may can still find a print shop with the option of printing on self-adhesive sheets (at least in hungary, those are pretty cheap). and if you want drawings to print out as stickers, you may use your own or –ONLY IF YOU GET PERMISSION– other artist's work. not only good for decorations for like, headphones, but for vandalism too. WAIT WAIT who said that. who said it. not me. no never

(in case that's also impossible, you can create stickers by printing out/drawing a picture, cover it up in transparent adhesive tape, and then put some two-sided adhesive tape on the white side of the pic. it won't be that durable, but it functions.)

if you want to bleach-paint clothing, get some plastic brushes!! any other brush dissolves. draw your design first with chalk!! never forget to put cardboard inside the clothing, and to wash the finished work in a washing machine before you'd put it on. prepare to be patient with the process. and it's not dangerous to touch 5%-9% household bleach, just wash your hands soon after.

if you want your crusty pants to last veryyy long, wax them. look up on youtube jeans waxing.

some more things i made for myself so to give you some inspiration: totebag with pockets, a small crystal holder cabinet, badges, and i decorated some t-shirts, button-ups, an id card case, phonecase, laptop.

theoretically speaking, there is nothing that an individual would be unable to learn how to make, when it comes to diy. you can't imagine how easy it is to bake bread at home. consuming-focused media makes people believe that it's hard to make anything. of course, everyone has to decide about their own priorities, i don't want to convince or change anyone in here. and if you have any questions, send an ask!! i hope i had been helpful.

#punk diy #tips #tutorial #clothes painting #do it yourself #bleaching #alternative clothing #soren's hoard of words #i hope you'll have fun with this #stay safe and drink water

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craggycosmetics · 2 months

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Characteristics and Types to Learn to Buy the Best Nail Polish Products

Whether you regularly visit your nearby parlor/salon for nail treatment or prefer a home-based manicure, you need the most basic product of nail polish. Whenever you go to select the best nail polish products, check its label, and ensure that the nail paint contains nitrocellulose in a fair amount. Nitrocellulose ingredient allows the nail polish to dry evenly and quickly.

#best nail polish products

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jeankirsteinsgrlfrnd · 8 months

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🤍a completely random modern au headcanon for each aot character 🤍

eren jaeger’s idea of late night fun is going to walmart/target/etc. he likes to walk around with his friends and be absolutely childish. bonus: he’s banned from a certain store for kicking an inflatable ball across the store.

armin arlert is self conscious of his body. it’s only really his torso though. when him and his friends go to the beach, he’s always the last one to take his shirt off. he doesn’t even have anything to be embarrassed about, he’s just disappointed he’s not as muscular as eren or reiner.

mikasa ackerman’s favorite color is a dark red. the blood, cherry type of red. she’s got a lip tint in that color and her nails are painted too much. she also chews her nails. she hopes the nail polish is enough to break the habit but it isn’t.

connie springer’s favorite fast food restaurant is burger king. he thinks it’s underrated. you can count on him to fuck up a whopper. he also always gets the cardboard crowns to wear.

jean kirstein loves night time. he loves the solitude, the way nobody expects anything from him, and the fact that he can just be. he doesn’t get lonely during his late nights but he wouldn’t mind somebody to share it with.

sasha braus smells really good. she doesn’t use any super fancy products, though. she’s just one of those people that naturally have a good aroma. her skin is also really soft.

ymir tans really easy in the summer. she never burns or turns red. she’s genetically blessed. the sun also makes the freckles on her face pop and clusters of them pop up on her back/shoulders.

historia reiss loves milkshakes and soda floats. she always orders them with a whipped cream and cherry. she prefers milkshakes from a diner rather than a fast food place.

marco bodt really likes plants. he has a collection of houseplants. they line his window sills and he even has a special little rack with a special little light. he’s got a super green thumb.

reiner braun drinks protein shakes religiously. he pretty much sticks to a diet of shakes, meat, vegetables and rice. there are few times where he breaks his routine, usually just joining his friends for a night of drinking.

bertholdt hoover has a surprisingly high tolerance when it comes to weed and alcohol. at least that’s what it looks like on the outside. he’s pretty cool, calm and collected. nobody’s sure if he’s immune to being drunk, or if he’s too anxious about acting a fool to show any signs of inebriation.

annie leonhardt owns a german shepherd 100%. she’s had it since it was a pup and it’s one of the most well behaved dogs. they’re oddly similar in their mannerisms. bonus: it’s named marley.

pieck finger is the type of girl to sit on the floor. like, at all times. when she’s sad, she’ll lay down completely and just stare at the ceiling. it’s peaceful and it makes her feel relaxed.

porco galliard goes through an ungodly amount of hairgel. his hair is hard like those ballroom/ballet dancers in competitions. he has trouble growing facial hair.

zeke jaeger gets his weed flown to him from another state/country. it’s the best shit around. he’s also never home because he “runs a business.” always found with a blunt near by.

levi ackerman doesn’t like energy drinks or coffee. if he needs caffeine, he gets it from tea or some kind of health drink. he doesn’t understand how kids hearts don’t give out with all their monsters and red bulls.

erwin smith is so friendly despite his appearance. he finds joy in little things like a heads up penny or when the barista remembers his name/order. he’s a pretty easy going guy.

hange zoe breaks her glasses all the time. they either sit on them or step on them. it’s easy for them to lose their glasses because their room is a mess. books, papers, knick knacks everywhere.

my jean fic

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xhoneygirlxx · 9 months

Text

this is gonna sound dumb but I just know Eddie would be so lovesick over you that he’d do anything just to make you like him.

let’s say you two are best friends, have been for the past seven years, but Eddie wants more than that. the only issue is the metalhead doesn’t think you’d ever go for someone like him.

that doesn’t stop him from doing any and everything to make you look at him. for example you said one time you like guys who take care of their hands, so he went to the nail salon and got his nails cut and filed topped with a pretty black color because let’s face it, his chipped polish and bitten nails didn’t cut it.

you had mentioned that having a good skin care routine was a green flag so he spent hours on tik tok, not to mention he spend a butt load of money on products, in the hopes you’d notice his newly stocked bathroom.

there were so many things you talked about that he did just in case it could help his chances with you - so far it hasn’t worked. now that the two of you are older, even though you’re only in your mid twenties, your it seems your taste has changed just a smidge.

it was one night of beer and pizza, the two of you talking about any and everything, when a small secret passed your pretty glossed lips.

“Honestly, I’d fuck Hop.”

you said it so nonchalantly, like you didn’t just say you’d fuck the sheriff of Hawkins and the father of El. Eddie sat flabbergasted, truly in disbelief at your admission.

“It’s the get up, ya know? Love me a man in uniform.”

your voice was dreamy, sweet and innocent, the complete opposite of the statement. and despite the want to make fun of your little crush, Eddie took that information and stored it for later.

that’s when two months later you found him in his room, all sweaty in a grey Hawkins PD Academy tee shirt and blue gym shorts, doing push ups. he tried to brush it off like it was no big deal, saying it was because he wanted a new chapter in his life, but in reality Eddie put himself through training just because you said you liked the thought of it.

although it took you many years, maybe too many, to realize this fool was completely and utterly in love with you. you do end up rewarding him anyway by climbing on his lap and riding the absolute shit out of him.

someone write this for me so I can yearn going into the new year

#I will pay someone to write this #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #honey’s rambles

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roosterforme · 1 year

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The Younger Kind Part 14 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Despite his best efforts, Bradley's mind is flooded with thoughts of you. After receiving a lecture from his best friend and making Noah cry, Bradley makes the decision to reach out to you. But perhaps it's already too late.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, and age gap (18+)

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

As soon as Bradley woke to the soft sunlight filtering in through his bedroom windows, his eyes settled on your purple crown. He tilted his head and examined it with a frown. He hadn't moved it since the night you wore it while he fucked you on the couch during your anatomy lesson. And now it seemed too precious to touch.

He had been hoping to spend some time in here with you yesterday, but instead he had shut things down with you completely. He stared at the ceiling trying to convince himself he'd done the right thing by trying to protect you. But all he could think about was how he made you cry.

And then Bradley spent the entirety of Sunday wallowing around in his underwear. He meant to do something productive. He planned on taking Noah grocery shopping. But as soon as Noah woke up and walked into the kitchen, Bradley lost the energy to do anything else at all.

"Is she here?" Noah asked, holding up some coloring books and a bag of Skittles. Bradley's heart sank. You must have left those on Noah's dresser last night.

"No, bub. She's not here."

He watched Noah's face fall as he sat at the kitchen table with the coloring books. "Can I eat them?" he asked, shaking the candy.

Bradley swallowed hard. "Yeah," he croaked, tearing the bag open for his child to eat Skittles for breakfast. Maybe Meredith had a point about his lack of stability.

"Share?" Noah asked, holding out the bag, but Bradley shook his head.

"I never deserved them."

The next day, Bradley started a week of work during which he promised himself he would get into a normal routine. But it was hard to make plans that didn't involve you when all he could do was think about you.

When he got to the coffee shop, the barista made him his coffee along with yours as soon as she saw him. "Thanks," he muttered, accepting both cups and a sharpie. He scrawled peasant across both cups and forced the drinks down on his drive to work.

To make matters worse, Noah asked for you constantly, and Bradley didn't know how to tell him that his beloved babysitter wouldn't be coming around anymore because his dad lied to her. So he didn't really say anything at all. Instead he watched his son look as dejected as he felt.

Tuesday after work, Bradley picked Noah up and they both headed over to meet with Tracy, his lawyer.

Once Bradley was seated across a small conference table from her while Noah colored on copy paper, Tracy sighed and shook her head.

"Bradley. I told you months ago that you needed to work on getting a custody agreement into place with Noah's mom." She was flipping through the papers in the manila folder that Meredith had left with him.

"Yeah," Bradley grunted. "Well, am I too late?"

She didn't answer him for a long time. Rather she added notes and marked things up with a purple highlighter. He thought of your purple crown hanging from his bed. He thought of your purple Skittles and nail polish and all the purple crayons. Who the fuck used a purple highlighter anyway?

"There's no way to prove she abandoned Noah," Tracy told him firmly, and Bradley already felt defeated.

"But she did!" he growled, already feeling bad for getting snippy with his lawyer, but at least he was paying someone to deal with his shitty attitude right now.

Tracy looked him calmly in the eye. "It doesn't matter if she did, Bradley. She would have access to the same phone records you do. She would be able to show that she tried to contact you fairly regularly. Furthermore, she lives in Oceanside, so she could claim she stayed nearby in an effort to be more involved. I can almost guarantee her lawyer will to try to push this back on you."

Bradley scoffed. "Can they do that?"

"Absolutely," Tracy confirmed. "They will try, and they will probably succeed. Judges usually like to side with mothers. And Meredith will be able to play the victim in this scenario pretty easily, I would imagine. How is a mother expected to help provide for her son if the child's horrible father won't let her spend time with him? How is Meredith expected to do anything for him when you have been keeping Noah from her?"

"He's almost four!" Bradley said, gesturing toward Noah as he colored quietly. "She's just acting on this now. Doesn't that look bad?"

Tracy shook her head sadly at him and listed off so many plausible sounding excuses that Bradley's stomach churned. "She tried to work it out with you, but you snubbed her. She didn't have the monetary resources until recently. You made her feel uncomfortable. She got bad legal advice previously which set her back. She wanted to make sure she was in a good place mentally to be a parent. The list of excuses could go on and on. She and her lawyer will find one that fits her nicely."

Bradley felt sick. "I can't lose him, Tracy. And you know as well as I do that none of that is true."

She nodded, reached across the table and patted his hand, and then said, "This is why I advised you to fix this before."

Bradley took some deep breaths while she shuffled the papers in front of her. "What can I do now?"

Then Tracy was looking at him with sharp eyes. "Did you tie up your loose ends?"

Bradley was uncomfortable. He undid the top two buttons of his khaki uniform shirt and took a deep breath. "If you're asking me if I broke my own heart and Noah's by telling the first girl I've had feelings for in years that I can't see her anymore, then yes, Tracy, I tied up my loose ends."

"Bradley. You're the one who asked me to advise you. From this point on, you need to look flawless. Do you understand me? You can see her again after we complete litigation."

He ran his hands over his face, suddenly exhausted even though he'd gone to bed at eight last night. "This is all going to be very confusing for him," Bradley said, nodding toward his son who had already used up half of Tracy's stack of paper. "And I can't ask someone to wait for me when we don't even know how long this is going to take. When I don't even know why this is happening."

Tracy handed some papers to him. "Since I believe you can't win the argument that Meredith abandoned Noah, we need to look at custody options. If you don't want to ask for any child support from Meredith, and you're willing to work with her for visitation rights, I'm nearly certain you can win full custody."

Win. Bradley didn't like thinking about Noah as an object. One that could be shared, passed from one parent to the other, and awarded ownership of. But he had to in this case.

He grunted, "No. No visitation. I want her out of the picture completely. I don't want her money. I don't want anything from her. I want full, sole custody. Do you think we can settle out of court?"

"With that list of demands? Doubtful. I don't think she will settle."

-----------------------

You only left your bed on Sunday to go to the bathroom. You were sad, about Bradley and what you thought you meant to him, but you were especially distraught about how much you were going to miss Noah. And you were so upset with yourself, too. You were angry. You had grown so attached to that little boy and his father. Bradley was a walking, talking red flag, but you just couldn't seem to help yourself.

He didn't want you. He was more than willing to mess around with you, sure. But you were beginning to see that Bradley only saw you as an easy piece of ass. One that would melt when he pretended to beg. One that he could butter up with vanilla lattes. One that would let him have a quickie before work. All while going out with other women. All while planning to sort things out with Meredith.

You wondered how much of what he'd told you that night on his living room floor was actually accurate. If she really left them, why was he willing to discuss getting back together with her now? Why was Bradley going to let her have a chance to be a real mom to Noah?

Every time you thought about how you ran away from Meredith at the park, you rolled over and buried your head under your pillow. She had more rights to be around her son than you did, and you ran away from her. Mortifying. And your arm still hurt and would take weeks to heal.

Thursday was Noah's birthday. You really wanted to see him. You already had birthday presents for him. You had been planning on baking him a dinosaur cake for the past week. It was all you could think about.

You needed a distraction. That's how you ended up drunk at Greyson's place on Wednesday night. It was a stupid decision. You had class in the morning. You had interviews for jobs coming up, and you needed to get good recommendation letters from your instructors. But Greyson had cheap vodka, and he was paying attention to you.

"I feel like I haven't seen you in weeks," he said, refilling your drink with a huge pour of alcohol.

"I've been busy," you replied, laying down on his couch as his living room started to spin. "Babysitting. But not anymore."

Somehow you felt a little less sad now as the music playing from Greyson's phone made everything sound fuzzy. And when he set the drink down and climbed on top of you, there was no initial hesitation in your body as he kissed you. He didn't have a mustache, and he wasn't as big and substantial as Bradley, but his kisses felt okay. You knew him. You were used to this.

You arched your back for him to remove your shirt and your bra. He was hard and rubbing you through his jeans as he sucked on your breasts. You moaned softly. He lacked the same finesse that Bradley had, but it still felt good. You could do this.

Greyson unzipped his jeans and guided your hand inside his underwear. You opened your eyes and looked up at his handsome face as you stroked him. "Will you go down on me?" you asked before you really processed your words.

"What?" he grunted, thrusting into your palm. "How drunk are you?"

Your hand paused on his length. What the fuck were you doing? You didn't even want this. "It was just a question, Grey," you mumbled, shifting underneath him.

"Come on, babe. Guys don't like doing that."

But that wasn't true. You closed your eyes, and you could still hear Bradley desperately asking to taste you there. I want to know if you taste sweet all over, Princess. Will you let me find out?

You sat up, startled by the thought, and now the room was really spinning. Bradley liked going down on you. Maybe he was a liar and a manipulator, but he had really enjoyed that. He had made you feel so good. And he hadn't expected anything in return from you afterwards.

"Let's just fuck," Greyson said, reaching for your leggings and yanking them down your thighs. "That's what you need. I'll get a condom."

You watched him stand up and walk away. You were going to cry, you could already tell. And when he returned, you must have had tears in your eyes, because he tossed the condom onto the couch next to you and said, "I knew I shouldn't have given you that much to drink. You probably can't even give me head now."

"I just want to go home," you replied, hating the angry look on his face as he stood above you.

"Fine," he agreed, and he called you a ride. You went to his bathroom, wishing you could go to Bradley's house instead of your empty little rental. And then you cried more. Even splashing cold water on your face seemed to do nothing.

Ten minutes later, Greyson was closing his door behind you as you stumbled outside to find your Uber. The cool night air cleared your head a little bit, and when you got home, you went to your couch with a bag of Skittles.

It was midnight now. It was Noah's birthday. You sucked on a green Skittle and typed up a text to Bradley. Just this one. You'd let yourself send this one text, and then that would be it.

Will you tell Noah I hope he has a wonderful fourth birthday? And tell him I hope he keeps singing the dinosaur song. Please let me know if I can drop off his birthday presents.

You hit send after rereading the message at least ten times. Bradley probably wouldn't respond, and that was fine. You could always just leave the birthday gifts on their front porch. And then you'd never see them again.

Next thing you knew, you were waking up the next morning thirty minutes before your first class started, and you had a handful of Skittles stuck to your palm along with a raging hangover. And you had worn Greyson's hoodie home again even though you meant to leave it at his place last night.

-----------------------------

When Bradley woke up on Noah's birthday to a text from you, he sat up to read it immediately. He couldn't believe you texted him nearly seven hours ago and he was just seeing it now.

You had birthday presents for his son. Bradley cradled his face in his hand and read the message a second time. You were so sweet. So good to Noah. And Bradley had insinuated that you were everything but that when you had been here on Saturday night. Yet you still wanted to give Noah something for his birthday.

And then he let his imagination run away. He was getting hard as he pictured you in his kitchen, wearing your crown. But he couldn't let himself get off to the thought of you. He didn't even deserve that much. So he just got dressed and started getting some cereal ready for Noah.

Once again, he had no groceries, so he made himself coffee and ate a carrot for breakfast before waking up Noah.

"Happy birthday, bub! You're four now!" he said, scooping Noah up into his arms and holding him tight.

He couldn't lose this feeling. He just couldn't. His lawyer had all but assured him Meredith wouldn't be able to win full custody without visitation. So no matter what, Bradley would still get to feel this, at least on occasion. But as Noah rubbed his sleepy eyes and smiled at him, Bradley knew that he wouldn't be happy with anything except full, sole custody of his kid. He wanted to keep doing exactly what he had been doing for the past four years. "Let's have some cereal, and then I'll take you to daycare."

"Okay," he replied, wrapping his arms around Bradley's neck on the way to the kitchen.

"Aunt Nat is gonna bring you cupcakes later, and then we can have a big party on Saturday."

"Can my babysitter come to my party?"

Bradley set him down and knelt next to the chair. He brushed Noah's hair back from his face and watched him eat Cheerios. "I don't know," he muttered. "I don't think so."

Would you even want to come? Would it be a good idea? Bradley had already lied to you about so many things to get you away from the two of them. But now Noah was crying. Fat tears rolled down his rosy cheeks as his face scrunched up. Great. He made his son cry on his own birthday.

"I miss her, too," Bradley promised, wiping away each tear as it fell.

"You said she was your favorite." Noah looked at him accusingly, as if he knew Bradley had already broken your trust in him.

"She is," Bradley whispered, kissing Noah's forehead. "Eat your cereal."

Bradley stood and picked up his phone, reading your message one more time. He had been blaming Meredith for everything in his mind. But really, he was the villain here in so many ways. Just as he was about to respond to you, he got a call from his lawyer.

"Tracy. Please, give me some good news."

"Sorry it's so early. But I just got off the phone with Meredith's lawyer. She did not agree to our terms, and now we have a preliminary hearing scheduled for next week, just as long as the judge approves it for his docket."

Bradley's heart was pounding as he asked, "Is that good?" His eyes were on Noah as Tracy responded.

"I think it's very good. You asked for sole custody. You tried to offer her visitation rights, at my urging. She rejected the offer. Now we can really dig in and fight. Because we aren't going to backpedal to this offer again when I think you can get exactly what you want."

Exactly what he wanted. Bradley pictured you and Noah napping on the couch with a movie on while he stroked your soft skin. He pictured the three of you eating pizza while you dumped dressing all over your salad. He pictured you underneath him on the living room floor feeding him Skittles while you laughed. He pictured himself eventually picking out a new car for you, as long as it wasn't burgundy.

"Great. Thank you, Tracy. Just let me know when and where. I'm ready to fight."

-----------------------------

After work, Nat went ahead to his house with dinosaur balloons and some cupcakes while Bradley picked Noah up from daycare. He came out wearing a birthday crown that did not look as adorable on him as the construction paper crowns you and he made.

"Let's go eat cupcakes and have a great night with Aunt Natasha," he said, kissing Noah all over his face while he laughed.

When he carried Noah inside the house, Nat grabbed him up and said, "Happy birthday, sweetheart!" Then she turned to look back at Bradley and leaned to look past him, confused. "It's just the three of us?"

"Yeah," he confirmed, wishing she would end the conversation there. But of course, Bradley wasn't getting anything to go his way right now.

"Is she coming later? Is she still in class?"

"No."

Nat eyed him up and down. "What did you do?"

"Can we talk about this later?"

"No."

Bradley sighed and led them into the kitchen, which Nat had decorated, and Noah climbed down from her arms trying to catch a balloon on his way.

"She's not coming," Bradley told her softly as she messed with his coffee maker.

"So she's coming to the party on Saturday instead?"

"I didn't invite her."

She turned to glare at him. "You've been about an inch away from telling me you're in love with her, and now you're telling me you didn't invite her to Noah's party? Oh," she gasped. "Does this have to do with Merebitch and the custody threat?"

Bradley grunted, not loving having this conversation in front of Noah. "I broke things off. Last Saturday night."

"What?" Nat gasped, getting in his face. "Why am I just hearing about it now? You liked her. You didn't like any of the women from the app, but you liked her. You were actually happy when you came to work after you saw her. What is wrong with you?"

Bradley leaned in closer. "Meredith threatened her. Threatened me and Noah through her. And she already got her arm all banged up trying to keep Noah safe. She's better off without me." His eyes drifted toward Noah who was poking his finger into the icing on one of the cupcakes.

Nat grabbed him by his shirt and shook him. "Invite her right now. Invite her to come on Saturday. Meredith doesn't get to control everything you do just because she decided to show up and start a bunch of shit- I mean crap," she said apologetically as she winced toward Noah.

"I can't, Nat... I was... not kind to her the other night. I told her she was too young and immature for me. I called her a kid. I told her it wouldn't work between us."

Nat looked disgusted. "Fix it. And while you're at it, give her a little credit, Bradley!"

He shook his head. "Meredith already has me by the balls, Nat," he whispered harshly. "I'm not going to let that happen to her, too."

"Look at your son. Does he love his babysitter?"

Bradley narrowed his eyes and glowered at Nat. Then he looked at Noah, and his irritation melted. "Yeah. He's very attached to her." Bradley knew you were attached to Noah as well. And he himself was aching inside without you around.

"Then let him have everyone he loves at his birthday party this weekend. Or you will regret it."

---------------------------

You were in bed on Thursday night, trying to tire yourself out with a book so you could fall asleep. Greyson was texting you nonstop, trying to see if you were "feeling better" and "wanted to come over and try again". As if wanting a guy to make you feel good while hooking up was some sort of wild idea you came up with. Like asking him to go down on you was the most outlandish request he had ever heard.

Your phone vibrated again. "Oh my god, Grey. I am not in the fucking mood!" You ripped the charger out of your phone and contemplated throwing it across the room. You were so angry and hurt, and you didn't feel like this was going to get better anytime soon.

Then you saw that it was Bradley who had texted you, and you thought about taking your phone outside and running it over with your car instead. "Not interested in you, either," you muttered.

Like a dumbass, you had texted Bradley last night when you were drunk and sad that it was Noah's birthday and you wouldn't get to see them. And apparently now he was finally writing back. You wished you had the willpower to just delete his message, but that wasn't going to happen.

Bradley Bradshaw: I'm having a small party for Noah on Saturday afternoon. I'm sure he would be thrilled if you could make it. Hopefully you can.

-------------------------------

He invited Princess! Will she come? Did he only invite her for Noah? Or is he just as miserable as his child is without Princess? Hope you enjoy your fic, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 15

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 9 months

Text

Three for One 3

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

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

Summary: As a customer service associate, you’re used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what’s on the shelf.

Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale

Note: Let's go!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

Two days before Christmas. The store is left in tatters. Shelves strewn with sparse lefftovers and aisles hastily paced by those who left their shopping a bit too late. The frantic shoppers searching for a diamond among the sand grains of untouched product.

You work at arranging the remnants of the season’s beauty advent calendars on a table draped in a bright red cloth. There’s a large tag in a metal stand that marks them as ten percent off. On the other side of the holidays, they will drop to a full eighty percent off. You always believed giftcards were a better prize, not that you got many gifts.

That year, Luanne gave you a new journal and a specialty hot chocolate bomb in the department’s secret santa. You go Michelle and gifted her a copy of your favourite novel and some nail polishes. That is the extent of your shopping and gift exchanges. Except for your puppy, Ernie, who will get a bone and one of those special gourmet dog meals.

You finish your arrangement and step back, admiring your work. It’s close to close and so close to the end of the race that the shop isn’t as busy as usual. The only customers you do see are in a rush and horribly disappointed when that very specific thing isn’t in stock.

“Excuse me,” you’re drawn around the deep voice. A man strolls up the center aisle of the beauty section, the tails of his coat flicking behind him, “hi,” he uses your name as he approaches, “I’m so sorry to bother you again but can you point me to, erm,” he looks down at his phone, “a ring light?”

You hesitate. He seems to know you and you admit, he looks familiar. You’re at that point where the faces all blur together. Your one innate flaw is that you really don’t have a good memory for that, bt you definitely recognise his voice.

“Hello, sir,” you fall short of his name. You want to say Alan but you also don’t want to be wrong. “The ring lights are actually with the cellphone.” You gesture back at electronics, “I know it makes more sense to put them with cameras.”

“Ah, oh, thanks,” he nods but doesn’t move to find his quarry, he lowers his phone, “how’s your holiday going? Thing’s slowing down,” he looks around and you can’t help but do the same.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, most people are all done,” you shrug.

“Ha, wish I could say the same,” he sighs, “I thought we were done but the wife just sent me on a wild goose chase.”

“Hm, oh, well, I’m not very busy, did you need help finding anything else?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, my manager’s done for the day so doesn’t really matter if I leave my zone,” you say, “kinda boring around here.”

“You’re too sweet,” he smiles, his blue eyes deep and swirling, “and that sweater is adorable.”

You look down at your dark blue sweater with the white crochet peter pan collar. You wiggle your shoulders and grin back at him, thanking him. You know he bought some perfume for his wife but you’re still blanking on his name.

“Here’s my list,” he tilts his phone towards you and looks down, shifting closer to you as he shows you a text bubble.

“Oh my, right. I’m not sure we’ll have everything,” you teethe your lip as you go through the items, “but we’ll see.”

A message pops up over the top and you try not to read, putting your head up as you try to act like you didn’t see it. It’s not that you meant to decipher the words but your brain quickly skimmed that ‘tomorrow night?’ Not much but just feels a bit personal.

“Alright, we’ll go to electronics first, then work our way forward,” you suggest.

“Good idea,” he agrees.

You set off and he follows at just a step. You have to remember to slow down as often you’re so determined you find yourself leaving your customers far behind you. You bring him to the mobile accessories and point to the ring lights.

He considers them and rubs his chin. He points between two; “what’s the difference?”

“Oh, this one comes with a tripod extension and this one is a full kit with a mic,” you point from one to the other.

“What do you think is better for, uh, streaming?” He sounds unsure of that last word.

“I think that kit would have more to it, especially if whoever it’s for is just starting out. But I’m don’t know too much about these things.”

“I’ll take the kit,” he scoops it off the shelf, “the kid can never have enough.”

“Oh? You have kids?”

“One,” he sounds less than excited, “teenager now so he really can’t stand me.”

“I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to…”

“No, no, it’s not your fault,” he forces away the shadow across his features, “you know how they can be. What about you? You going to see your parents? Spending the day with someone special?”

“Um, just Ernie,” you answer, “my puppy.”

“Cute,” he remarks, “are you guys open tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow, yeah, ‘til five,” you try to remember the next thing on his list.

He seems less concerned with the items than before, instead turn to examine a pop socket, “you have to work on Christmas Eve?”

“Yeah, closing, but I don’t mind.”

“What’s this?” He holds up a pop socket.

“It goes on your phone,” you pull out your phone and show him your daisy one, “see?” You hook your fingers around it, “it’s a grip to help you hold on.”

“Ah, makes sense,” he turns the thin package over, “kid’s always breaking his screen…”

You wait patiently as he makes up the mind to add the grip to his haul.

“What’s next?” You prompt as gently as you can.

“Oh, uh,” he looks at his phone, “video games…” he squints, “V-bucks?”

“Ah, yes, that would be a gift card,” you say, “I can show you the rack.”

He lets you lead him to the large rack of subscription cards. You point out the various currency amounts available and he rubs his brow. His forehead lines as you see the stress needling in his cheek. He’s struck with the late shopper syndrome. He’s start to feel the crush of time.

“So, just your dog?” He wonders as he picks up a $75 card.

“Yeah,” you answer softly.

“No boyfriend? Siblings?”

“Just me,” you assure him, “I don’t mind. I get to choose the dessert!”

He chuckles, “that’s a good way to look at it. Did you buy yourself something special?”

“Not really, I’ve been saving for a vacation so I put most of my overtime into that,” you explain. “You having a big dinner?”

“Last minute change, wife’s parents want to host. Had to figure out travel plans.” He looks at the giftcards again and your eyes fall to the large back curled up in his arm and the card and phone grip balanced between his fingers. He slides free a Netflix card and reads the fine print.

“Do you want a basket, sir?” You offer.

“Oh, well, sure,” he accepts as he looks down, “that’s very considerate.”

“Don’t want you to drop anything,” you smile and turn on your heel.

You go to the stack of rolling baskets beside the electronics desk. Tyler doesn’t acknowledge you as he sorts through game shells to put back on the shelf. You pull the basket behind you, rattling on its wheels as you approach the shopper by the gift cards.

“Here,” you veer it around towards him.

He bends to lower the ringlight inside and drops the smaller items into next to it; he adds the Netflix subscription along with it and holds onto the Kindle card in his hand.

“You got any of these around?” He holds up the card, “the reader?”

“Hmm, we should,” you rub your neck, “I suppose if we didn’t, you can get a tablet and download the app.”

“I guess,” he nods, “can you check?”

“Of course, sir.”

You turn away and call over your headset. Regan tells you there’s a kindle up in return they can sell. You ask them to put it aside.

“There’s one left at checkout. They’re going to have it waiting for you,” you announce proudly.

“That’s great. You like to read?” He asks.

“Oh, sure, my one vice is my book addiction,” you giggle, “how about you?”

“Well, I don’t get much of a chance with work. I’m usually burnt out from all the legal documents,” he drones grimly, “then the kid has extracurriculars or there’s a PTA meeting or the wife needs something done.”

“Sounds busy,” you say empathetically, “I hope you get some time to relax this holiday.”

“Me too,” he agrees. “I almost envy you. I’m sure your dog’s good company.”

“He’s so sweet,” you can’t help but beam at the mention of your boy.

“Big cuddler?” He asks.

“Uh, yeah,” the question is a bit unexpected, “you like dogs?”

“Never really had one. Don’t need the extra work,” he says, “but I don’t mind them.”

“That’s fair. He can be a bit needy.”

He flinches and looks down at his hand. His screen flashes and he gives an apologetic look as he raises his palm, “I’m so sorry. I need to take this.”

“Take your time, sir, I’ll wander,” you point over your shoulder with your thumb.

He mouths a thanks before he answers, “Barber.”

You back up and turn to distract yourself with the shelf of controllers and switch cases. His deep voice carries but you focus on the Sinatra carol playing overhead to drown him out. Still you can’t help but catch a few words.

“Five, yeah…no, she won’t…it’s fine…” He’s quiet for a moment before he raises his voice, “figure it out.”

His stern tone sends a chill through you. It’s a sharp contrast to his previously friendly demeanour. Well, he mentioned he’s a lawyer, you assume he has a lawyer voice, akin to your customer service one.

“Sorry,” he comes back to you, “my wife…” he takes a breath, “you don’t happen to sell wine here?”

You smile. The way he answered, it didn’t sound very affectionate but maybe he hadn’t expected his wife.

“No, sorry, sir.”

“Kidding,” he chuckles, “well, I guess I should get my butt in gear,” he flicks through his phone, “um, I assume toiletries? Face masks?”

“Oh, that’s near me,” you point back towards beauty, “there’s a special for the sheet masks.”

“Great,” he grabs the extended handle of the basket, “thanks so much for this. I’m so lost.”

“That’s fine,” you go ahead of him, “it’s the job.”

🎀

You groan as you put the last empty bin in the stack. You stand and rub your shoulders, traps sore from all the lifting and moving. The night crew will set up for the day after Christmas but in the last hour of work, you and the few others in the store scrambled to get the old displays torn down.

Luanne walks with you to the employee break room. She’s in more of a hurry as she has her three children waiting for her at their grandparents. She goes ahead of you and punches out as you wait and stretch out your arms.

“Have a good Christmas,” she says breathily as she opens her locker and pulls out her purse and jacket, folding the latter over her arm, “I’ll see you after. You’re opening, right?”

“Sure thing,” you say as you punch in your employee number. “Merry Christmas.”

“Give Ernie some pets for me,” she trills as she goes to the door. “Thanks again. You saved my ass today.”

“No problem, “ you shake your head, “Christmas Eve brings out the best.”

“Does it ever. Bye, sweetie,” she waves over her shoulder as he sweeps through the door.

You go to your locket and take out your fluffy pink sherpa coat and purse. You loop your scarf around your neck and slip your earmuffs around your head. You sit to pull on your boots and stand with an ache in your calves. You feel the fatigue finally setting in. It’s not over yet; one day off and you’re right back to the furor.

You yawn as you leave the breakroom and drag your feet across the store. You take out your phone as you pop your earbuds in and choose your holiday mix. You wave goodbye to a few other stragglers and go out the front door, Spencer locking it behind you.

It’s bitterly cold out. You’re surprised by the fresh fall of snow swirling in the air. It gives an extra sparkle to the time of year.

You scroll through your phone. The buses are on holiday hours already. The next one is in an hour. Great. You can just walk, at least until you get to the next stop. More buses stop there and you can get at least ten minutes within your building.

You trod along, kicking through the powder of snow as headlights gleam ahead of you. You walk along the narrow walk beside the hotel on the other side of the intersection and a pair of flashing tail lights blink ahead of you. A dark figure stands beside the white SUV but you can’t make out much more than their silhouette.

You keep going, peeking up curiously as you near. The boot of the car pops up and the stranded driver searches. As you pass, you trip over an unseen shape, the metal clank painfully against your toe. You look down at the small foot jack.

“Oh, shoot, sorry,” the man stands straight and turns to you, “I didn’t see you coming. I was just grabbing the iron–”

“That’s okay,” you pick out your earbuds, “I wasn’t looking.”

“Wait,” he stops short and points a gloved finger in your direction, “it’s you. You work at the store just down the way, right?”

You know the man. He’s the one who was in the store just yesterday. There’s a flutter in your chest at the coincidence of your encounter. It happens, especially in the shopping district. Half the city at least passes through her during the holidays.

“Yeah, uh, that’s me. You finish your shopping?”

“Just about,” he tuts and shakes his head, “blew a tire. So, happy holidays to me.”

“I’m so sorry,” you look down at the snowy walk.

“Mhmm,” he grumbles, “all this snow, I can’t get the jack to work either.”

“Dang, unfortunately, I’m not help. I don’t know much about cars.”

“That’s fine, I called roadside assistance but they’re taking their damn time,” he checks his watch.

“Oh…” you utter.

“Don’t let me rain on your holiday, honey,” he says, “your toe okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine,” you look down.

“Wait, are you walking home?” He asks.

You nod.

“Wish I could offer you a ride. This weather’s only getting worse,” he bemoans. He slips his hand into his jacket and pulls out his phone, “they should be here shortly so if–”

A set of headlights pull onto the apron and roll towards you. You look over as the man beside you does the same. You stand, somewhat dumbfounded at the unexpected run-in.

“That’s them,” he declares, “hey, guys.”

He waves as the white van pulls up. You were expecting a tow truck. Oh, well. Not your problem.

“Great, I guess I should get going,” you excuse yourself, “have a happy holi–”

As you step back, your heel catches on something. You don’t realise until your plummeting onto your ass that the man stuck his leg out behind you. You hit the ground with an oomph, barely missing the metal jack half-buried in the snow.

You hear the van door sliding open and a clatter of heavy treads. You can barely catch your breath as the world moves fast around you. The man bends over you as another rushes over, grabbing you off the ground as the two vehicles block out the street from view.

“Be nice,” the first man warns as your arms are seized. “Don’t hurt her.”

You suck in a deep breath. What is happening? You go to let out the shriek as you’re struck by the situation. This can’t be real but you’re being half-carried towards an open vehicle. A hand comes up and stifles your scream, smothering you as you’re yanked harshly forward.

“Careful,” the man girds again.

“Shut the fuck up,” the other grits and pulls you away from the other, spinning you around as he hooks an arm around your neck and covers your mouth, forcing you towards the van. He bends backwards, lifting your feet as you kick and squirm.

“Honey, calm down,” the friendly customer coaxes, “it’s okay.”

You don’t understand. Why are they doing this? Why you?

The man’s hand slips as you grab at his arms and your teeth come over the vee between thumb and index. You bite down and he yowls. Even through his leather glove, you give him a viscous pinch.

“Fuck!” He tosses you forward so your knees hit the side of the van and fall half-inside.

“Hurry the fuck up,” another voice calls from inside the van.

“Trying,” the second man snarls as you stand and let out a shrill note, only for a second before you’re caught from behind and muted again. This time the leather glove seals over your nose. “Fucking bitch.”

You’re lifted into the van, writhing and kicking as the door slides shut from the outside. You’re pinned on the floor in the seatless rear of the vehicle. You whimper as your eyes glisten with a sudden spring of tears.

That question rings in your head again; why you? You have no one to look for you, no one to care. It’s only you against them.

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