#not gonna give this one all the main tags i’m too tired…. it’s been a long day let me tell you

[serenadeofsunshine]

i don’t think i posted this one . get yourself a little guy that pops out of nowhere and is soooo happy to see youuuuuuu :o)

[garbinge]

Rescued

Jax Teller x F!Reader From these August Prompts: "Have a drink, relax." & For @the-slumberparty's Bingo Challenge! Bingo square: Rescued Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: This was honestly so fun to write, young and fun Jax is my favorite lol. Warnings: All my fics are 18+, regardless of content. Angst, flirting, cursing, Unsers nickname lol, drinking. SOA Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics

The popping of your tire was the cherry on top of a shitty trip but when it caused you to lose control of the wheel and smash into the speed limit sign, that was the boiling point for you. Luckily, you weren’t too injured, the airbag managed to leave a cut on your face somehow and now on top of a fucked up car, you had a bruised face and ego. You had been traveling for hours, just trying to make it back home and everything was going left. Calling the operator was infuriating, all of the numbers you had to press just to get to speak to someone only for them to transfer you to someone else in the Charming operating department.

“I’m looking for someone to tow my fuckin’ car.” The tone you took was one of little patience. 

“Well it’s a good thing you called the fuckin’ auto shop.” A voice with humor spoke on the other line. 

“This a mechanic?” You said taken back. “Sorry, I’ve been playing tag with like 3 different operators.” 

“Don’t worry about it, doesn’t make the top 5 of mean ass customers I’ve talked with.” The man on the line spoke. “So, you need a tow? You got a location?” 

“Uh,” You looked around for a street sign, any landmarks to give an idea where you were when your eyes landed on the green reflective light. “Just off the West Side Freeway, Rt 5.” 

“Alright, I’ll send the tow, gonna be $80.” 

“Ofcourse it is.” You sighed and closed your eyes as the day continued to shit on you. 

“We can workout a payment pl–” The voice was slightly concerned on the other line. 

“No.” You cut him off. “I’m good for it, it’s just the idea that I’m about to drain it all from my wallet.” 

The man on the other line let out a laugh. “We’ll be there in 20 minutes.” 

You thought you were lucky enough that the cops didn’t show up but they were right in front of the tow truck. The older officer was stepping out of the car before the tow truck even parked. 

“Everyone alright?” The man spoke up, as he got closer you saw the name engraved on below his badge. Unser. 

“It was just me, I’m alright. Popped my tired on the highway and the wheel decided to shake out on me.” You pointed to the ending of the story where your car sat plowed over the metal pole and sign. 

“Your uh– you got a little banged up.” He pointed to his face where the cut on yours was. “You sure you don’t want me to call an ambulance or an EMT to check it out?” 

“I’m okay, officer. I really just want to get my car out of here and fixed.” As you spoke you pointed to the tow truck and the long blond haired man who was approaching from the truck. 

Unser turned around and nodded to the man. “Jax.” 

“Uncle Touchy.” Jax’s smile was from ear to ear as he walked past him and directly to you and your car. 

“Hey I’m Jax.” The man nodded at you, keeping his smile the same until it fell a little as he took in your face. 

At first, you thought maybe he was concerned with the cut on your face but his next sentence disproved that theory. 

“I know you? You look familiar.” He said the frown deepening now. 

“I’m not really from around here, so I don’t think so.” You weren’t really trying to go back and forth right now, your main objective was to just get the fuck out of here. That was until it hit you who he was. “Oh shit, you’re–”

“From the truck stop.” His smile grew back on his face. 

“You’re all out of coffee.” Your annoyed voice was yelling out over the front counter of the convenient store down to the cashier who had already checked out.

“Then we’re all out!” The worker didn’t even bother to look at you while he dismissed you. 

“This place is literally called Coffee and Go. That’s what I want to do. Get my coffee and go.” You spoke like it was obvious, which to your point, it kind of was. 

Just as the cashier was about to yell back at you, now looking at you fully the person at the register stepped towards you. “Here, take mine, I should cut back on the caffeine anyways.” 

Your eyes moved down from his young, handsome face to his hand that was extending out the coffee. That’s when your eyes saw the vest resting over his flannel, Sons of Anarchy, Vice President. 

“I didn’t drink from it yet, it’s just got a little sugar in it but besides that it’s just regular black coffee.” 

“You don’t need to do that.” You shook your head trying to dismiss the man’s generosity. 

“I know but if I don’t, I think you’re going to kill that guy.” He leaned in to whisper to you. “And I don’t really want to be pulled in as a witness.” 

“What can I say, I’m a bit of an unruly character without my caffeine.” You reached out to take the coffee. “I’ve been on the road for a while, thank you.” You genuinely said. 

“Don’t mention it, darling.” 

“I didn’t recognize you without the–” You shrugged your shoulders and brought your hands up to mimic holding the vest. 

Jax let out a laugh. “Traded it in for the work shirt for the next 5 hours. Didn’t recognize you with the–” He pointed to his face similarly to the officer before but in more of a mimicking way since you had mocked his kutte. 

“Guess we both went through a few changes since the morning.” You rolled your eyes. 

Small town charm. That’s what this was, everyone knew everyone, people were chatty. As you pulled into the automotive shop you turned to see the line of bikes along the wall and the large reaper over the building diagonal from the garages. Maybe this was a different small town charm than you had thought. 

You had lost track of your conversation with Jax as you stared at the bikers walking around. 

“Never seen an M.C. before?” His voice cut through your thoughts. 

“More like I know them too well.” You mumbled not expecting any reply from him but the confused look on his face was begging for more information as he placed the tow in park. 

“My mom, years ago, was a member of Hell Babes before they patched over into Rebel Supply. It was a Women’s Motorcycle Collective so, probably a little different than this.” You pointed out the truck window and looked back at Jax who was a little surprised to hear the story from you. 

“Or a lot of the same.” Jax’s eyebrows raised. 

“We’ll never know that will we?” You raised your eyebrows back at him. The confused look filled Jax’s face again as he frowned at your statement before taking the keys out of the ignition. “You’re never gonna tell me the reapers' ways of working and I’m not going to tell you anything about the Rebels.” 

“Yea, it’s a lot of the same.” Jax smiled at you. “Let me give the guys the keys so they can start working on an estimate for you.” 

You stood in the middle of the lot, waiting for Jax to come back, taking in the details on each of the bikes, it was bringing back a lot of memories for you, good and bad. Luckily you didn’t get too far down memory lane before Jax was back next to you, now with his kutte over his work shirt. 

“Come on, it’s gonna be a minute.” He guided you towards the tall black building that had the MC logo plastered everywhere on it. 

As you stepped into what you assumed to be the clubhouse the smell of cigars and alcohol filled your nose. It was definitely extremely different from what the Women’s Collective had as their stomping grounds, but what did you expect when it was a bunch of middle aged men in the middle of bumfuck California. 

“Have a drink, relax.” Jax was calling out from the bar as he poured you a beer. 

“The cop gonna come back and DUI test me?” You made yourself comfortable at the bar. 

“Nah, Unser’s cool.” Jax smirked like he expected you to know what that meant in terms of the club.

“Uncle Touchy, you mean?” You asked in hopes for some explanation to the nickname that wouldn’t make you sick to your stomach. 

“It’s just a joke, pisses him off, there’s no rhyme or reason behind it, don’t worry.” Jax laughed, taking a sip of his own beer. 

“This is the second drink you’ve bought me today.” The glass raised to cheers him before you took a sip yourself. The cold beer was like medicine to your aching body, the cold chill relaxed you from not only the accident but the week you were having. 

“Call it fate.” He chuckled. 

“Call it Teller-Morrow Towing.” You rebutted. 

“Speaking of, I thought the coffee was supposed to dial down the unruliness.” 

“Only managed to have half the cup before my tire popped, not enough to keep the unruliness at bay.” 

The two of you continued talking, chatting about your parents and clubs, but still managing to keep pretty much every detail a secret as you talked. Topics changed and there was never an awkward lull or search for another thing to bring up, things just came up naturally, where you grew up, your favorite places to travel, the fact that you stopped riding years ago and how Jax could never give it up, what you were doing coming through Charming. 

It was crazy that an hour had already passed when one of the mechanics had stepped into the clubhouse. 

“Jax! That tow you brought in, estimate is $670 for everything, we can have it done by tomorrow morning, just let us know when to get started!” 

You closed your eyes as you heard the time and price. “That how you let all your customers know the breakdown?” 

“Don’t let most of my customers come in here to wait out their estimate, truthfully.” He grabbed your glass and tossed it in the sink. 

“Let ‘em know to get started.” You stood up ready to retreat out of the clubhouse and figure out your overnight arrangements. 

“Will do, if you want, maybe uh, I can give you that full cup of coffee in the mornin’.” 

He was so smug about asking you that it was obvious what he was saying between the lines. 

“You askin’ me to stay the night, biker boy?” The two of you were now walking down the hallway to the door when Jax grabbed the door above your head and held it open for you. 

“All about the hospitality, baby, and figured it’d be good to caffeinate you in the mornin’ so you’re not unruly to my guys.”  He had a toothpick in his mouth now that was moving around as his tongue played with it. 

“What the gentlemen, Jax.” You crossed your arms before agreeing, what the hell, you were just passing through, right? “Sure, I’ll bite. Thanks.” 

“Don’t mention it, darling.” 

[hedwig221b]

WIP Wednesday

It's Thursday already but who cares lol

Tagged by @dear-massacre hey queen ✨

I've been consumed by my Predators fic. I'm on the verge of writing the climax - the scene I've been twirling in my mind since like August. I'm vibrating. Anyway, here's some miscommunication angst.

💔

Derek wasn’t sleeping, not like Stiles hoped.

“Stiles…”

“No.” Stiles marched to the nightstand under Derek’s intense gaze, plopped on the table, and unzipped the first aid kit that he had brought with him.

“We need to talk.”

“Derek.” Stiles looked at him with pleading eyes. “It’s late. I had a shit day — I’ve been shot at for fuck’s sake. Can we please talk it out tomorrow? You can scream and scold me for as long as you like but… tomorrow, okay?”

“I wasn’t gonna scream at you.”

“Great.”

“I’m not going to.”

“Excellent.” Stiles ripped the new set of bandages out of the kit. “Give me your hands.”

“I cleaned them already.” Derek showed him the freshly bandaged hands.

Oh.

Stiles’ shoulders sagged, as he breathed out. “Okay.” He swallowed. “Is it bad?”

Derek’s gaze had yet to move from Stiles’ defeated figure. He looked just as tired as Stiles felt, if not even more.

“It’s fine.”

Stiles hesitated. “You did a number on him…” Did Derek disinfect his cuts? Did he break any bones? What if his skin was badly split? What if Derek got an infection — god, humans were so fragile!

“I’m okay, Stiles,” said Derek.

Shut the fuck up, you clingy weirdo, that’s what he meant.

Stiles couldn’t cry. That would be just another fucking humiliation on top of all others.

Instead, he nodded, zipped the kit, and put it behind himself on the table. Without meeting Derek’s gaze — if the man even cared to look at him — Stiles turned off the main light and went to his side of the bed.

“Stiles?”

“Mm?” He put his phone on the nightstand and turned off the light on his side.

“Come here.”

Stiles stopped with one knee on the bed and threw a confused glance at Derek.

He looked beautiful even with the dim light hiding his tired features; the tantalizing silhouette of his strong shoulders stood out sharply against the glow.

“You want to have sex?” Stiles asked, hesitating.

It seemed like he said something wrong because Derek’s face closed off immediately. Still, a wisp of some raw feeling managed to slip through.

“No,” he muttered, looking away.

Stiles should’ve expected a “no”, should’ve been prepared for it, yet hearing it right now hurt so fucking much, like someone was tearing his heart fiber by fiber.

No.

No need for his comfort or his offers of care. Derek didn’t even need his body anymore.

Stiles nodded and got under the covers with his back turned to Derek. He didn’t close his eyes, not until Derek moved. After a few minutes of dense silence, Derek turned off the light and lay down as well.

Stiles was surprised, however, when an arm slithered around his waist and settled on his stomach.

He didn’t understand. Why was Derek getting close? Did he really have to press his body to Stiles like that—

“You know you’re here not just for sex, right?”

No, Derek keeping him for sex would’ve been too easy. The problem wasn’t the sex, it was the lack of fucking consent.

What Derek probably didn’t understand was that Stiles would’ve stayed with him on any conditions — as a friend, a roommate, or a sex toy — if only they came from Derek himself.

“I know,” he said, closing his hand over Derek’s. “I understand. Let’s sleep.”

read full version

[cheesysoup-arlo]

Cady’s Cousin (pt.2)

(pt. 1)/(pt. 3)/(pt. 4)

A/N: sorry this is mostly like “texting” also the relationship/couples I have in here are (karen and gretchen), (cady and regina), later I’ll add (janis and reader) and maybe (aaron and kevin g) idk maybe lol I won’t be tagging the ships since they’re not the main ship I hope y’all liked this lol

(Sunday 8:30pm)

*Cady created a group chat*

Cads 🦁: hey guys I made this group chat so (Y/N) can get to know you guys, you guys can get to know them, and just for fun 👍

???(1): aw Cady that’s so sweet, this is Aaron by the way lol

(Y/N): can everyone send their name please 🙏

???(2): karen 💕

???(3): Beyoncé

???(4): that’s Damian ^, this is janis 👾

Damian🌟: janis you’re no fun this is homophobia

Janis👾: yeah I hate the gays 🙄

karen💕: ??? u hat me 😞

Janis👾: no not you karen just Damian

karen💕: o okie 😽

???(5): the hottest bitch you’ll meet

(Y/N): hi Regina

Cads🦁: Y/N!!!

(Y/N): cads chill I know she’s off limits

Regina👛: aw baby you’re so cute when you’re jealous

Janis👾: barf 🤮

(Y/N): 😭😭😭

(Y/N): wait where’s Gretchen?

karen💕: sleping 😴

Damian🌟: Important question! Y/n are you one of them queers?

(Y/N): I would be offended if you thought I wasn’t

*damian has named group chat “fruit loops”*

Janis👾: I-

(Y/N): oh that’s-

Damian🌟: OK STOP BEING HOMOPHOBIC TO THE GAY BLACK MAN IM A MINORITY HERE

Regina👛: how’s everyone feeling about school tomorrow? I’m kind of excited mostly because the school cheese fries just hit different yk?

Cads🦁: I’m excited too but for classes I picked an extra math class this year

(Y/N): ha nerd 🤓

(Y/N): I’m nervous lol but at least I have you guys

Janis👾: I’m not excited I hate school it keeps me from doing more important things

(Y/N): like what?

Janis👾: sleeping

Damian🌟: I’m excited I decided that I’m gonna take the new senior only theater class which is a little out of my comfort zone but I’ll manage

Aaron🧍‍♂️: I was supposed to be graduated last year so I’m not excited at all

(Y/N): YOU GOT HELD BACK?!?! WHAT?!?!

Aaron🧍‍♂️: yeah I failed English and history so I couldn’t graduate

Cads🦁: it’s ok Aaron now you get to be with us for another year 😊

(Sunday 11:50pm) fruit loops

(Y/N): guys I can’t sleep

Janis👾: same I’ve been lying very still and it’s not working

Damian🌟: janis did you take the melatonin I gave you?

Janis👾: yeah but it’s not working 😔

Damian🌟: welp that’s a you problem then

(Monday 2:30am) fruit loops

(Y/N): do you think I can fit 40 mini marshmallows in my mouth?

Janis👾: oh absolutely

(Y/N): omg ur still awake too?

Janis👾: yeah lol

(Y/N): I just put 35 mini marshmallows in my mouth idk if I can fit more

Janis👾: if you fit all 40 I’ll give you 5 bucks

(Y/N): challenge accepted

(Monday 2:37am) fruit loops

(Y/N): I fit all 40 and almost choked lmao

Janis👾: lmao nice your $5 will be given at school

(Y/N): yippieeee

(Y/N): dude I literally can’t sleep

Janis👾: wanna call? That’s what me and Damian used to do before he got a good sleep schedule lmao

(Y/N): um sure me and my friend back home used to do that too

*incoming call from Janis👾*

“Hi” you whispered suddenly feeling a little more tired with her company even if it was only over the phone “hey” janis said with a small yawn “nice shirt” you say seeing her Lego movie shirt “oh um thanks” she says with a laugh “so what’s up?” “Let’s take turns asking each other questions until we fall asleep” you say with a little yawn “hmm ok favorite color?” She asks you “ooo definitely (your favorite color), how about you?” “Hmm either green or purple” “ooo good choice, hmm hobbies?” “I sing and write a little but I guess art even though I don’t consider it a hobby it’s more of a lifestyle” “art? Can I see some?” “Yeah sure I’ll show you some stuff tomorrow” you both yawn “shit it’s 3 am” janis sighs “fuck” you chuckle sleepy “um I’m getting tired” janis says with a tired laugh “me too” you say starting to close your eyes “good night (y/n)” “good night Janis” you say with a yawn falling asleep as she hangs up

Monday 5:30am

“Pst…(y/n)? You gotta wake up” your cousin said lightly shaking you “ugh five more minutes” you mumbled “no come on up you gotta get ready” she insisted, you got up against your body begging to go back to sleep “good morning sleepy head” Cady said with an enthusiastic smile “cads what time is it?” “5:33” “doesn’t school start at like 8:30?” “No it starts at 8 and I wanted to make sure you had enough time to get ready and have breakfast, breakfast is very important” “uh huh…mm thanks cads” you say with a yawn deciding to get up and look through your clothes “meet me in my room when you’re done getting dressed, ok?” Cady said “um ok?” You said grabbing your favorite jeans and shirt then going to look for your jacket as your cousin left

(Monday 5:40 am) fruit loops

Gretchen🌷: good morning everyone soooo so sorry for not texting yesterday I went to bed early

Regina👛: it’s ok Gretch don’t worry about it

Regina👛: also damn I think Janis and (y/n) our new insomniac duo

(Y/N): unfortunately yes I’m so fucking tired also good morning Gretchen

Aaron🧍‍♂️: why are you guys up so early it’s not even six yet? I literally woke up because of all the buzzing

(Y/N): cads woke me up :(

Regina👛: my skincare and makeup routine take like and hour

Gretchen🌷: I like mornings ☀️

You finished getting ready and headed over to Cady’s room like she asked you to. “What’s up cads?” “Eee (y/n) ok so first of all how are you feeling about your first day” “a little nervous and tired I only got like 2 and a half hours of sleep” “oh goodness (y/n) why didn’t you sleep sooner?”cady says concerned “Because I wasn’t tired?” You half joked. Cady hands you a paper. “That’s a map of the school the way Janis sees it she gave it to me on my first day I feel like it could be helpful for you” “oh um wow thanks cads” you say giving her a half hug. Your aunt knocks on Cady’s open door “hey girls good morning” “good morning mom” Cady says enthusiastically, you yawn “morning” you say with a small smile “I’ve got to head to work but I’m assuming you girls have a ride?” “Yeah Aaron’s gonna pick us up I think?” Cady answers “alright I love you two, be on your best behavior and call me or text me if you need me” your aunt says as she leaves “bye” you and Cady say at the same time. You head to the kitchen and pour yourself a bowl of cereal

(Monday 6:40am) fruit loops

Regina👛: my mom is doing a coffee run what does everyone want?

Damian🌟: iced coffee, oat milk, vanilla

Gretchen🌷: just the usual for me and Karen

Janis👾: iced coffee, oat milk, lavender

(Y/N): um (your coffee order) please

Cads🦁: can you just get me a tea?

Regina👛: yeah of course I’ll get your favorite

Aaron🧍‍♂️: regular coffee, cream and sugar please

Regina👛: ok also who’s picking up who today? I can get Karen and Gretchen as usual

Aaron🧍‍♂️: my mom said I don’t have car privileges this week so I can’t give anyone a ride

Damian🌟: I can get janis for sure but if anyone else needs a ride I can get them too

Cads🦁: can you give (Y/N) and I a ride please we’re ready whenever you are 👍

Damian🌟: yeah I’ll be over in 10 then we’ll go get Janis because I know she’s not ready yet

Janis👾: I would be offended but it’s true

Regina👛: alright meet at our usual spot?

Aaron🧍‍♂️: 👍

Damian🌟: sounds good see y’all soon

[rowanisawriter]

snippet sunday

thanks for the tag @gale-sized-hole i’m about to post something so irrelevant to the interests of anyone who follows me and i apologize in advance…. but this is from a dick grayson/wally west fic i’m gonna rant about under the cut lol also i’m not tagging anyone else because as i said this is probably not relevant to anyone who follows me but i will subject the main tags to it lol

.

They keep an irregular schedule. Dick tries to make it to Stanford at least twice a week. Sometimes, he squeezes in an extra day. Mostly, it’s at his own expense, his rushing through patrol or a fight resulting in a painful reminder of why he should be taking his time. He rubs ointments and antibiotics into broken skin, wraps cuts along his arms and legs, dodges questions from the rest of the team. Limping or feverish, he drags himself to Wally’s dorm and into Wally’s arms. Tired or wired, he slinks into Wally’s twin bed and they lay on top of each other, with no room to do much else. Minutes before he’s expected back at the cave, he sneaks in another bite of pizza or another kiss on the freckled forehead before he runs to the zeta tube half a mile from campus, and arrives in front of Batman out of breath but feeling like his heart is about to explode right in his chest and kill them both.

But despite the exhaustion, and the juggling of responsibilities to make room for this tender new thing, he finds himself staring with unfocused eyes as Wally talks with food in his mouth, one hand shoving another bunch of fries in, the other hand holding open a heavy textbook on his lap, and Dick thinks this must be what real life is like.

He startles himself with a sudden image of what this scene must look like to an outsider. As though he’s a spectator walking past, he takes stock of the situation: they’re sitting outside of a restaurant on the sidewalk, and Wally is cramming for a test, waving his hand as he talks in between bites of lunch. Dick is leaning forward, his chin in his hand, his elbow on the metal table. He’s aware that he’s staring at Wally but can’t stop. There are people talking around them, and a breeze brushes past them, lifting Wally’s hair slightly off his forehead, revealing a bit of sunburn developing just at his hairline. For all the world, they look like two ordinary young men living an ordinary and mundane life. And the realization fills Dick with something like envy.

“Dick?” Wally has realized that he’s no longer listening. As if it’s the most natural thing in the world, he reaches across the table and takes Dick’s hand. “What’s up?”

Dick finds he’s unable to speak, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he gives up. Wally smiles a little, looking around, coming to the same conclusion without a word. They listen to the world around them in silence, the birds chirping somewhere overhead, a car starting nearby, the revving of an engine turning, a group of teenagers walking past and their laughter drifting up into the air like smoke.

.

EDIT: read the rest here

ok so 10 years ago i wrote a fic called on rooftops and it was about wally leaving the superhero life (young justice canon compliant) and dick dealing with it badly lol. then recently i reread it and thought what if i wrote this again but with dick leaving too this time. so i’m writing it. lmao.

idk who the audience of this is or will be, if you’re reading this and like birdflash like this so i can follow, ive got no clue what’s been happening in this fandom in the past decade haha

[moonsplit]

↠ do you ever get a little bit tired of life? ↞

* pairing ↠ minor Redson x MK * ao3 link *

“Where could he be?” “I don't know Tang, I didn't hear him leave.” “I didn't either!” ----- MK was missing, no one could find him despite their efforts- not even Monkey King. But his clones definitely weren't.

chapter 1 - Porty Makes an.. Unexpected Entrance

* characters ↠ Porty MK, Tang, Pigsy, MK * word count ↠ 1,400  * tags ↠ MK needs a hug, fluff, parent Pigsy and Tang, MK Clones

* notes ↠ Guys we're only at chapter one of this fic and I'm already having a lot of fun with it-

"Where could he be?!"

"I don't know Tang, I didn't hear him leave."

"I didn't either!"

Pigsy and Tang had been looking for MK all day, at first Pigsy thought he was slacking off and sleeping in- but when neither Pigsy nor Tang could find him for hours on end, tensions ran high.

“Maybe he’s with Mei?” Tang suggested not for the first time.

“We already called her, you know that!”

“Maybe Monkey King, then?”

“He would have told us, we would have at least seen him!”

It was officially the hour Pigsy’s was closed for “maintenance” (read: Tang was gonna go berserk if Pigsy didn't let himself take a break from cooking), so when they heard the door chime open- it had to be one of only a few people.

“Heeeello everybody!”

Well, it was at least MK’s voice, but-

Tang peaked around the corner and to the door, eyes scanning over him.

He had to give it to the clone, he managed to look decently like MK- his hair still neatly tucked behind his bandana, only the one bit flopping out, and his added accessories nowhere to be seen, but the cheetah-print jacket in place of his usual Monkey King one gave him away.

“Porty? Where’s MK?”

Pigsy groaned, mumbling. “Of all clones-”

“I can't tell ya old man, was hopin' you’d mistake me for him.” He gave finger guns to Tang, fangs showing through his smile. “Since you know, though-” he whipped out his sunglasses and headphones, sunglasses going over his eyes and headphones on his ears. Tang sighed.

“Why can't you tell us?” Pigsy cut in, walking to the main room.

“Orders from OG, pops.” He made a clicking sound with his mouth, switching the headphones on and slipping one of them off an ear.

“Is he safe, at least?”

“‘Course, if he was hurt I’d be too.”

Tang nodded. “So why are you here?”

“To porty!” he stuck his tongue out at the two with a grin, before promptly rushing to the office that was rarely used.

Tang and Pigsy glanced at each other before rushing after him. There were small speakers around the restaurant, playing bland music for guests, but-

Tang flinched when disorganized music far too loud for the tiny speakers started playing.

“Haha!” Porty, er- Xingyu? If Tang recalled the name MK had given him correctly- laughed, rushing out. “I need people!”

“No!” Pigsy stomped over to the office, Xingyu putting himself between the pig and the door.

“Look pops, this is my porty and I do what I want-”

“This isn't a party, kid!”

“ Porty ,” he corrected, grinning as if he had won anything.

“Whatever!”

“You’re banned from music forever,” Pigsy groaned.

“What did you just say?”

“Pigsy maybe don’t threaten him-”

“Tang!”

“Just a suggestion!” Tang laughed. “Lead him away from the door,” he whispered, covering an ear with one hand. How did Xingyu even manage to get the music that loud?

Pigsy gave him a look, trying to leap around the clone and get to the office. Xingyu followed after him, blocking his path with a grin as Tang took any chance he could to get to the door.

“Oh come on!” he practically cried out as Tang went inside, giving a small laugh.

The music was turned down, but to Tang’s credit he kept it playing the clone’s party music. Not like they had any customers to complain-

“Hey Pigsy, I’m pooped from that- mind making us some noodles for lunch?” Tang gave a smile.

“You’re insufferable.”

“You love me.”

“Sure.”

Pigsy made his way to the kitchen, Tang and Porty watching before Tang turned to the clone. “Besides partying, what do you like to do?”

“What does OG like to do?”

Tang was confused for a few moments before the word clone rang in his head. It was easy to forget the clones were meant to be copies of MK, some had just- grown their own personalities too.

“Stay at the counter,” Tang gave a half-hearted attempt to keep Xingyu in place before rushing up the stairs into his and Pigsy’s apartment.

There were two apartments above Pigsy’s restaurant, MK’s was a story higher than the one Tang and Pigsy occupied- something that had been in debate for a while. The two wanted their son to have the quickest escape route from fires and such, but also if he was closer to the shop then he was also closer to any mishaps involving it. They didn’t want him dealing with robbers-

Hah. While Tang still wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea of MK dealing with criminals, with everything he had done and everything he was learning, he was sure the kid could handle himself now.

He dug around his and Pigsy’s room, pulling out an old DS he hadn't touched in a while and checking the game was still in it.

He hopped down the stairs, handing it to Xingyu. “Here, it has an old Monkey King game on it.”

“Thanks old man,” the clone gave a grin.

“I’m no-” Tang cut himself off. “I’m younger than Pigsy!”.

Xingyu laughed, head throwing back with it.

Pigsy, despite grumbling about “freeloaders” and “I outta put you to work, ‘Porty’”, did actually make the three their own bowls of noodles. He even went as far as to specify them to each of their preferences-

“So, you’re sure you can’t tell us where Xiaotian is?”

Xingyu gulped down a portion of his noodles, his appetite wasn’t Delivery levels but hey, he was a growing man-

Well, he was a man-

Well-

“Nope! You’ll never get it outta me either!” He stuck his tongue out.

“You don’t seem to like being around us-”

Porty blinked slowly, squinting at Tang and his off-handed comment. “Ayo pops, has the old man always been that dumb orrr?”

Pigsy laughed, Tang smacking his arm as he swallowed a few noodles.

“Yes, he has.”

“One of you explain or I’ll personally make sure you end up in Diyu.”

Porty laughed. “I’d like to see you try!”

Tang gave an exasperated sigh and gestured to Pigsy. “Pigsy please- ”

“We’re clones of OG, we’re all gonna see you two as our dads whether you like it or not-”

It sunk in for a few moments, Xingyu growing nervous as his confidence waned.

Tang was the first to speak up. “So we have five sons?”

“More if you count the clones who aren’t as distinct as us four-” he gave a hesitant smile. This was fine, the two knew OG saw them as his dads, Sure Xingyu had never mentioned it, but hey-

Tang gave a smile. “Makes sense.”

“‘Porty’-”

“Xingyu,” he corrected with a smile. “Not that I care, but you sound like you’re gonna scold me and set a bunch of stuffy rules, so might as well use my name.”

Pigsy blinked, of course MK would choose that name for him.

“Xingyu. Don’t mess with the sound system again.”

“Booooring.”

“Tang, can you go with him on deliveries? I don’t want to deal with losing him to some party.”

Tang snickered. “What makes you think I won’t just party with him?”

“You hate loud sounds.”

Well damn, pops had him there- Porty snickered.

The whole day! The entire day, Tang and Pigsy kept him from diverging- and not for Xingyu’s lack of trying mind you! 

At every derailing, distraction, loud music, arcade, park, anything fun! There was Tang, keeping him “on task” and “you’re even worse about this than MK” and "You can't drag me into it this time" and “you can have your own party when we get home and the restaurant is closed.”

Absolute bogus!

Well, okay the last one sounded nice-

But that wasn’t the point! 

He stormed into the dim cabin, looking around for the original.

“OG! You owe me a huge porty for that- they practically kept me on a leash!”

MK looked to him with a tired smile and a yawn. “Thank you though, Porty, I just kinda-”

“I’m you too, OG,” he flicked him in the forehead. “I know what you’re thinkin' n’ shit.

“Sorry, yeah- you’re right.”

Xingyu hit him on the back of his head (affectionately, he thinks), before poofing and leaving MK once again alone with his thoughts, a dangerous thing for sure.

“Maybe I can get Delivery for tomorrow? If Xingyu had such a rough time..”

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

[justa-smalltown-gargoyle]

this is a rant post, me just unloading my anger so that my poor friends and family don’t have to hear it, this is about Secret Invasion but really Marvel as a whole. Again, this is a grumpy post, and if you’ve come to the tag cuz you’re excited to talk about Secret Invasion, all good, but probably don’t read this post cuz I know the horrible feeling when someone kills my vibe. 

also major spoilers ahead for Secret Invasion episode 1.

What the actual fuck.

No really.

What the fuck.

I was not super excited for secret invasion because the last few Marvel works have been lacking, the last one I enjoyed was Wakanda Forever. It however did not quite hit the spot that Marvel movies usually do.

However, I still tuned in today- watched the episode, not gonna lie, it was slow going. Many people said this was different, more intriguing. To me, it was the same old same old. Literally how the fuck do you mess up an invasion lead by shapeshifters? How the hell do you make that boring? 

It was great to see Fury, Maria and Talos again, but it’s frustrating because we really haven’t had any answers to what he’s (Fury) been REALLY up to all this time. And all this talk about abandoning earth, and “you’re not the same since the blip” because heaven forbid they let Fury keep his swag since he’s seemingly the main character. They really said to make this threat seem legitimate we need Fury to seem in over his head. When has he ever not been??? Just because someone is the main character doesn’t mean we need all their cards on the table as the audience. 

Aside from all those issues, and just being “generic rebel group are evil”, once again. Seems a bit fishy to me- Captain Marvel was so interesting by making them *not* the bad guys, but yet. Here we are.

And then, they fucking killed Maria Hill. 

One, severely under-developed character, who’s beloved, but never had enough screen time since day one. Marketed her as a selling point. and then killed her. Seems familiar to me, a bit too familiar. 

It gives me the same feeling of when they killed Nat for no fucking reason all over again. Idk maybe this time, Maria “isn’t actually dead” and I’m gonna look like a fool but it doesn’t seem like it. I’m tired of them pulling this. It’s a death purely for shock purposes and that is shitty-ass writing. And once again! Killing women to motivate men! Which is the third time they’ve done this, if not more, I’m only counting from Infinity War. 

It’s cheap. All their new content is cheap. And I don’t want to disregard the work that the writers, vfx crew, the actors and set crew and directors are doing- they’re working with what they got. But it’s clear that Marvel is trying to churn out so much so fast that they aren’t allowing time for the creative process, nor are they ever allowing for creativity at all. Once again, Maria Hill is another name in a long list of wasted opportunities by Marvel. 

I used to enjoy these movies so much and I think it’s truly devastating to me, realizing what it’s become and the fact I probably won’t ever experience those feelings again.

I am looking forward to the Marvels film, Daredevil Born Again and a little bit about a few others, but honestly, my hopes aren’t too high.

[missnxthingg]

𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬, 𝑭𝑹𝑶𝑴 𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑭𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑪𝑶𝑹𝑵𝑬𝑹𝑺 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑳𝑫 - 𝑇𝐻𝑅𝐸𝐸

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 - Lando Norris x Single Mom!Reader (Best friends to lovers) 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 - Lando and Y/N have always been the best of friends, always there for each other through thick and thin. After years of sharing the paddock and building their own silly little family, both of them just can't hold their feelings inside anymore, even though they're are both afraid it would ruin their friendship. So who'll take the first step? 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 - 6.7K | 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 - Smut and a few swearing 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 - Honestly I kind miss Lando's first win and this might be my fav piece of smut I've ever written. I hope you like it as much as I did.

smau version | series masterlist | main masterlist | taglist

Lando woke up feeling a little confused with his phone incessantly ringing next to him. He tried to lift his head, but it immediately started to hurt once he moved, giving away that the amount of alcohol he had yesterday was enough to give him the worst hangover of his life. He had to blink thrice before being able to see the contact on his screen, immediately sliding his fingers through the screen when he saw Y/N’s name on it. After all, he could’ve been dying, but he would always pick up the phone if she was calling. 

Unfortunately, he regretted this decision.

“I’m going to fucking murder you, Lando Norris”, she said once he picked up the phone.

“Please, don’t shout”, he begged, feeling too tired to get into a fight. But Y/N had the worst morning of her year, being woken up by the entire McLaren PR and Communications team, bombarded with videos of his partying in Amsterdam the previous night.

And again, she also didn’t enjoy to see people on Twitter tagging her in photos of him, with blood all over his face, during a boat party in Amsterdam on King’s Day. ‘Oh, Y/N’s not gonna like this’, they said. And she definitely had to worry about him all morning, as he was not replying to his phone.

“Do you want to know how I was woken up this morning, Norris? With everyone at my team texting me to know how we were going to handle you, your drunk videos and your bloody nose on media day in Miami”.

Slowly, Lando started to remember everything he did with Martin and some of his friends. He thought his fans already knew about his behaviour and party spirit. He just didn’t know how people would take the situation too seriously on social media.

“It’s not a big deal, honestly. I just cut my nose drinking out of broken glass. It’s not like I’ve gotten into a fight”, he explained.

“People surely think so”, she said. “And now, I had to ruin my last morning with Olivia to solve your fucked up image”.

Being his best friend, Y/N oftenly calls Lando out whenever he does something bad. She was the reason why his popularity and reputation wasn’t fucked up with the public. And now, knowing his behaviour fucked up Ollie’s morning, he felt guilty.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to ruin your day with Ollie”, he admitted, and Y/N noticed the change in his voice. Then she was the one who felt bad.

“No, I’m sorry”, she said. “I just got really stressed with the calls, and I was worried about you. I’m sorry I took it out on you. I shouldn’t call you out for having fun”.

“No, but you’re right. I took it too far”, he admitted, but enjoyed that she changed her mind about the situation. 

“Are you okay? Are you safe?”

“Safe and sound in my hotel room”, he assured. “My head might explode, but I’ll live. Don’t worry about me, go be with Olivia”.

“I will. Take some pills, drink a lot of water, eat properly and rest. I will see you tomorrow in Miami, okay?”, she advised, making him smile. Even from afar, Y/N always takes care of Lando.

“Okay. Thank you for checking on me. I love you.”

“I love you too, dickhead”, she grinned.

“Can’t wait to see you. Send my love to Ollie. Tell her uncle Lando misses her”.

“She misses you too. Come home soon”.

Sometimes, after some hard partying, Lando’s left feeling a moral hangover, which leaves him to rethink all his life’s choices. On the plane to Miami, he thought if it was worth it carrying on with his partying life. The thought hit him harder when he received a picture of Olivia cuddled with Y/N on their couch, just before it was time for her to leave.

“My girls! I love you”, he texted them, going to sleep with a smile on his face right after.

The warm weather in Miami helped him feel a little better. Lando took a deep breath to take in the city once they landed and it felt nice. Well, it felt even nicer on Monday morning, when he saw Y/N checking into the hotel they would be staying.

“Hello, pretty girl”, he greeted, keeping his voice low so nobody would catch his pet name. “Still mad at me?”

“A little, but I think I can ignore that for a hug”, she grinned, making him wrap his arms around her tightly. “Are you feeling better?”

“Definitely. Had a lot of water, slept plenty on the plane and was just catching up on timezones. So I’m good. And you?”

“Would love to have a nap and a burger. I’m starving”, she admitted. “But they said my room isn’t ready yet. I’ll have to wait one more hour”.

“Let’s go back to my room and we’ll ask them to call when yours is ready. We can order food and you can nap as long as you want”, he suggested, knowing the entire team had a day off before the busy schedule.

“Fine, I definitely need it”.

Lando took care of Y/N, because he still felt guilty about having her worry about him during his trip to Amsterdam. He ordered food and ran a nice hot bath for her, treating her with some of the benefits and extras from his very fancy room. Then, as she was busy in the bathroom, he opened up some of his dating apps, trying to find someone to have fun for the week. After the days he had, he felt needy, and wanted some girl to 'take care' of him. But he simply couldn't think about being with any women when he was with Y/N. He kept sliding profiles to the left and gave up when she opened the bathroom door.

She was looking very cute wearing his robe, that was too big for her body. Yawning, she waltzed to bed and climbed under the covers next to him, making Lando lock his phone and find his favourite spot: resting his head on her chest.

"Comfy", he mumbled against her skin.

"You should be the pillow today, not me", she giggled, but Lando held tighter onto her.

"Don't care, honestly", he confessed, making her melt into his hug.

"It's going to be a busy week", she commented. “But I don't know, I have a good feeling about this one”. 

"Hopefully, we'll be celebrating a podium on Sunday”, he dreamed with a smirk on his face.

“We surely will”.

(...)

Lando woke up feeling very confident. Somehow, that morning felt different than any other morning in his career. He had been taken out of the sprint race right on the first corner, and qualified P5 yesterday. Yet, he felt like great things were coming his way. So he woke up in a good mood, rumming to songs with a grin that never left his face.

"Good morning, my lady", he greeted Y/N as they ran across each other on track. "Sleep well?”

"Yes, and you apparently did as well. Who did you fuck?”

“Shut up, no one! I'm just in a good mood”, he stated. Although he would've loved to have found someone to fuck, Lando simply couldn't do it. Every time he tried something with a woman this weekend, his mind would always go back to Y/N. He had never had a problem with that before. Now, it’s like she’s stuck in his mind like gum, and he was yet to figure out why. 

 "That's always good to hear", she said.

“I think today is the day, Y/N. I don't wanna jinx it, but I think I'm gonna win today”, he declared, feeling his whole body fill with confidence. “And if I do, you're coming out to party with me”.

"Obviously. There's no one that's been rooting for you more than me, muppet. Been here since the start, and I can't wait to get drunk at your first win party".

Lando blushed with her words, but the confidence never left his body. He took a look at Y/N, wearing her McLaren shirt, paired with a tailored black trouser and sneakers, as she usually does. But somehow, she looked prettier than ever. And he just couldn’t contain himself, feeling all the confidence in his body scream in adoration for her.

"Wow, you look so beautiful today", he complimented, making Y/N's heart start beating faster.

“Thank you. Haven't done anything different, though. Same old me”.

"You're always beautiful, Y/N. But you have a different glow today, I don't know".

“That's nice”, she smiled widely, without understanding why her heart was beating so fast. Sometimes Lando has that effect on her, and she definitely enjoyed being complimented from time to time. He was the only one who did so, anyway.

"Anyway, I'll get ahead and get ready to go. I'll see you at the track, gorgeous", he pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, running towards the lift right after. Why was he so flirty today?

Y/N tried to carry her day normally, but she kept looking at Lando under a different light. She noticed how perfect his curls were today, or how the small cut on his nose made him look slightly hotter. She also felt her entire body tingle whenever he touched her to ask her to move, or whenever he winked as he caught her staring.

Why? Why was she feeling like that? Why today? Why him?

“Look, my mom just texted me this picture of Ollie”, Y/N extended his phone to Lando, showing him a picture of her daughter wearing her McLaren shirt, pointing to her uncle’s name as she stood in front of their television, who was channelling the pre-race.

“Ohh, look at my girl”, Lando opened a wide genuine smile at the sight. “I miss her so much. Tell her uncle Lando loves her very much”.

“Do a heart with your hands and I’ll text her a picture”.

Lando very clumsily did a heart with his hand, and added a cute pout on his lips before posing for the camera. Y/N took the picture with a huge smile plastered on her face, and texted it back to her mother. The image of his face lighting up in adoration for her daughter was stuck on her mind. And for a second, she wondered if he would like to be Olivia’s father just as much as she wanted him to be. Y/N would give anything to have Lando helping her out on parenting.

“I have to go now”, Lando said, signing to the members of his team, who were ready to go on track. “P1. Write it down, love. We’ll be celebrating later”.

“Be safe and good luck! I’ll be here to celebrate P1 with you tonight”, he pulled her for a hug and, this time not so secretly, he pressed a big kiss on her forehead before an engineer called him once again to come to the track.

Yeah, people definitely would repost that everywhere on the internet. Which only meant one thing: headache to Y/N, in every meaning of this expression.

The race was nail-biting. Around lap 30, Lando took the lead after Verstappen lost a little bit of pace and a safety car was put on track, giving McLaren a free pit stop. After that, it was absolute terror for Y/N. She didn’t even dare to speak as she painfully watched the remaining laps of the race. How does it take so long to finish a race with cars going so fast?

She only remembered how to breathe on the final lap, when the entire McLaren team rushed to the pit wall to watch Lando cross the chequered flag before anyone else for the first time.

“That dickhead was right”, Y/N thought, as she heard his car approach on track. Then a smile stamped on her face when she saw the bright orange of his McLaren, along with the neon yellow of his helmet. Once he crossed the finish line, her legs felt weak, and she had to squat to the floor, letting her hands to her face, still in disbelief of what she had witnessed.

Lando Norris is a Formula 1 race winner.

They started this journey together in 2019, and she had been there for every single one of his highs and lows in his career. Y/N was there for Lando’s first podium, for his first DNF, for his first pole position in Russia, and then for the lost chance of winning the day after. She was there for the bad season start in 2023, only to see him secure P2 in his home race. She was there to see him win the title of driver with most podiums, and no wins. Now, she gets to experience this glory with him. 

Y/N squeezed between the team at the parc fermé and impatiently waited for Lando to park, blinded by her tears. She was glad when she finally got to see him on top of his car, waving one finger in the air to celebrate the win. And then she felt relieved to see him running towards their team, throwing his body over their heads to celebrate the conquest. They both got dragged away into the cheering, feeling the euphoria from the team, but they only got to have their little moment after Lando talked to Andrea Stella and Zak Brown.

When he spotted Y/N standing right behind the barricade, he immediately pulled her body closer and helped her jump the fence, just so they could hug properly. Then she buried her head on his neck as they gave the longest hug of all time. Lando pressed a long kiss on top of her head, not caring if anyone around them was filming their little moment.

“You’re crying!”, he joked, bursting into a laugh.

“Of course I’m crying! You fucking won”, she shouted, making him smile wider. “You muppet, you did it! I can’t believe you knew it all from the start”.

“I can’t believe it either. To be honest, this still feels like a  dream”, he admitted. “I’m so glad you’re here with me. I wouldn't want to share it with anyone else in the world”

Lando didn't want to let go of Y/N anytime soon. His arms were locking her close to him, as he took in her scent and touch. All he wanted to do was kiss here right there. Eventually, someone came to ask him to come to the podium, forcing him to finish the hug. 

“Go get your trophy and we'll celebrate later”, she squeezed his hands and smiled in reassurance.

"Okay", he pressed a kiss to her forehead before letting go off her. “I love you so fucking much. This one's for you and Olivia”.

“I love you too, Lan. And so does Ollie”.

Getting to see how Lando shined under the sunlight as he stood on the tallest step of the podium was angelical. He let the sun hit his face and warm up his skin as he smiled up to the sky, letting the feeling sink in. Victory coursed through his veins, and he never had felt so happy in his life. Then, after the British National Anthem, he caught Y/N shouting and clapping at him from the crowd, just like she has been for every single podium he ever conquered through the past years.

For a second, he was back at his rookie year, having a laugh with Y/N at her office at the MTC. Then he remembered the day he found her not laughing in her place, but scared about her future after finding out about an accidental pregnancy. He was back to poking her very pregnant belly every time they crossed each other at the paddock. He remembered holding her hand as she pushed her daughter out, or before she went on stage to finally get her degree. Then he was back to his almost first win, when she spent the whole night holding him as he cried about the loss. 

They have been there for each other through thick and thin. This win would just be one more day for them to remember. So of course, when he splashed his champagne, he took a step into the crowd, hoping to get some sprayed on Y/N. This victory was a little bit hers too.

The media pen took forever for someone who wanted more than anything to go celebrate. But he was glad he got to do it next to Y/N, smiling every time he glanced at her, who was holding her own microphone next to him.

“So, Lando, who do you dedicate your win to?”

“I've said this in the car, I dedicate this to my grandma, because she hasn't been doing so great lately. And I dedicate this to my goddaughter Olivia, who's at home right now wearing my shirt and being the best lucky charm”, he looked over to Y/N, standing next to the reporter, and smiled. “Also to her mother and my best friend in the whole world, because I probably wouldn't be here if it wasn't for her”.

Lando rarely talks about his friendship with Y/N in public, because they agreed that this was too precious to be taken to the public, giving them permission to step into their personal life. But at that moment, he didn't care. His true fans know the nature of their friendship, so they would know how special it was to dedicate this to her. 

She was also very stunned with his dedication and him mentioning her for the first time in an interview. But she only mentioned it when they were alone, right after Lando took some pictures with his trophy at the top of the Hand Rock Stadium.

“You dedicated your win to me”, she commented, making him smirk.

“I know”, he shrugged. “I looked at you from the top of the podium and I remembered everything we went through the past years. We’ve been here for each other for thick and thin. It’s only fair for me to praise you on such a special moment we both have been waiting for”.

“Thank you so much. It was really special”, she said. “And Ollie was watching the interview, because my mother texted me saying she has been yapping about you winning for the entire day”.

“Cute”, he giggled. “I’ll call her tomorrow when I’m not tipsy from the champagne. But right now, I’m looking forward to getting absolutely wasted with my best friend and party until sunrise. And you don’t get to run away from tonight, miss”.

“Of course not! I’m definitely going to get wasted with my winner friend. We both need this”.

“We do”, he smiled. “Come on, let’s go back to the hotel and change”.

Y/N only met Lando later that night, when he knocked on her hotel room’s door to pick her up for dinner. He was invited for a special one somewhere close to the club where Max invited him to celebrate his win, and of course everyone was tagging along. And lucky enough, she had packed her beautiful dress she always brings to races in case he won the Grand Prix.

Norris had never seen his best friend so dressed up before. Matching the Miami vibe, she chose a baby pink sparkly mini dress, paired with silver heels. Y/N wasn't one to try catching much attention through her clothes, and that's why the choice impressed Lando the most. She looked heaven sent.

“Wow, you look so beautiful”, he smiled, making her shy with his comment. “God, so, so beautiful. Look at you!”

“Lando, stop it!”, she demanded, feeling all the butterflies flying on her stomach. 

“No, but you do!”, he stated, taking her hand to give her a twirl. “Absolutely fucking beautiful, that's right”.

“Well, thank you. So do you”.

“Ready to go?”, he asked and she nodded.

“Just need to put on some perfume and we can go”.

Y/N sprayed her fragrance twice on her neck, and Lando felt his heart warm with the smell. Her smell. She smelled like home to him. So when she came back, he buried his nose on her neck as he hugged her, feeling very needy after winning the race. All he wanted was to be with the girl he loves the most.

“It tingles”, she giggled as she felt the air from his nose hit her skin. Then he pressed a tiny kiss to her clavicle before pulling her out of the room.

“Let me show this beautiful lady to the world”.

Lando has always been very affectionate towards Y/N, but tonight it was different. He simply couldn’t be away from her for long. He was glued to her side at dinner, where they shared a desert as he continued to have their hands tied together under the table. Then his hands never left her at the club, making sure she didn’t go far away from him. The two friends celebrated this win as if their lives depended on it, just because they had been waiting for too long for this moment.

Savouring this win with his best friend, the person he loves the most in this world, was everything for Lando. He was so happy to see her right there by his side, taking shots, swaying her body on the dance floor and having the best time as they celebrated his achievement. It took him every strength of his body not to kiss her in the middle of the club.

But damn, it’s hard to resist when Y/N had her arms wrapped around his neck as they danced together, forgetting about anyone or anything around them. Just them two, twirling around the room with their eyes locked together, the biggest smile stamped on each of their faces, just existing in their own little world. Lando almost kissed her right there, with their lips brushing so close to each other, not touching because of the last drops of realization keeping them from ruining this moment for good.

And if Norris didn’t do something about it soon, he would definitely ruin it by making their first kiss so public. So before fucking up the perfect day, he leaned on her ear and asked:

“Can we please go outside? I need some air”.

Y/N nodded, taking his hand and guiding him outside. Once they were finally alone, away from that party, they started giggling. The booze on their heads made everything hazy, but it was nice to finally feel so loose around each other. Lando looked at her underneath the moonlight and thought he couldn’t be luckier. He had the most amazing woman in the world right there by his side, unconditionally loving and supporting him.

“I love you so fucking much”, Lando blurted out, making Y/N open a shy smile. “I do, seriously. Everything I do is for you, to see you smile. I’m so grateful that you were here for this win today. Couldn’t have done it without you”.

“Yes, you could”, she fixed the collar of is button up shirt, smiling at him. “You are so talented, Lan. And you are the most amazing person I’ve ever met. You could’ve done it while racing backwards”.

“But you’re the person who keeps me going, every day. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you taking care of me”, he let one of his hands put a stray of her hair behind her ear, letting him fully focus on her beautiful face. “This win is for both of us. I’m proud of this little team we created. I wish Olivia was here to celebrate with us too”.

Lando always remembers to mention her daughter. Y/N loves how he never forgets about Ollie, wanting to be close to his goddaughter all the time. Having him saying such simple, but meaningful words to her, made her lean up and capture his lips in a brief kiss. But once Norris understood what was happening, he held her face tight between his hands and deepened the kiss. 

They were so lost in each other that they didn’t even notice when Y/N hit her back on the wall behind her, absolutely taken by his lips, tasting hers so deliciously. They fit like two puzzle pieces; like those pieces you've been trying for the right spot for the longest time, and it makes so much sense when you finally find the correct place. They felt like coming home, because that's what they were to each other: home. 

“I’ve waited to do this for the longest time”, Lando admitted between kisses, and Y/N couldn’t do anything but hum in response, too taken by their actions to speak. “Feels so good to finally kiss you”.

“Shut up and just kiss me”, she blurted out, making him smile between kisses. Then Lando obeyed her request, focusing solely on only feeling her and the way her lips felt against his for once.

They were only pulled from their small little world when someone came through the door, but quickly ran away when they saw Lando and Y/N making out. She hid her face on the crook of his neck and they laughed together, realizing that even though they were alone, that was still a public space.

“We're behaving like teenagers”, she mumbled against his neck, her laugh making his skin vibrate. Lando squeezed her tighter under his hug and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“You make me feel like a teenager”, he admitted, feeling the blush creep on his cheeks. “Maybe we should go back to the hotel”.

“I'm not tired”, she admitted, making him smirk, pulling her even closer by the waist.

Lando held her chin delicately and rubbed his thumb in circles on her skin, his eyes locked into hers, just before he darted down to her lips again. “Who said we were going to sleep, uhm?”

They were in a taxi on their way to the hotel only a few minutes later, trying to be as subtle about their leaving as possible. But Lando just couldn’t take his hands off Y/N in the back of the car. He didn't care if there was a stranger driving them, or if that was a little too much to do in front of someone else. But he finally had the girl of his dreams and a race winning trophy. Nothing in this world could make him happier tonight.

Once they were locked behind the doors of his room, Lando couldn't stop kissing Y/N. He pressed her against the wall and was now playing with the straps of the dress that took his breath away earlier that night. He loved seeing her in it, but he couldn't help but think she would look even better without it.

"Beautiful", he complimented, sprinkling buses all over the skin of her collarbones and shoulders. "Can I please take it off?”, his voice was hoarse, but soft, making sure she was comfortable with what they were doing. It made Y/N feel the thousand butterflies she always felt for Lando all at once

"Yes, please", she asked, too reactive to his touches. They felt too familiar, too good. Her whole body shivered once she felt his hands on her back, pulling down the zipper of her dress.

Y/N's smell was intoxicating. So sweet and so... her. It reminded Lando that it was really her standing in front of him. It was the girl he loved the most in the world holding his curls, pulling him closer as his lips got dangerously close to her breasts. Then it felt even more real when she started to unbutton his shirt and her hands started to go down his body, very close to the hem of his trousers.

"Baby...", he moaned, making her smile between the kisses. “You're driving me insane”.

"Good to know I still got it after so many years".

"You've always got it. A hot MILF", he joked, making her burst into laughter, breaking the kiss.

“Way to kill the mood, dickhead”, she joked, and Lando blushed, embarrassed about the comment he just made.

"I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean it in a bad way", he said. 

"I know", she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him closer again, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “A MILF is the best compliment one has called me in years”.

"Damn. I should’ve complimented you more", he giggled. “Because you're the most beautiful, hard-working, funny, good smelling, intelligent and sexy woman in the world”.

"Way to bring back the mood, dickhead", she kissed him again, this time picking up the pace and fully removing his shirt for once. 

Lando turned her around and softly pushed her to bed, carefully placing her between his pillows. Now, feeling his body weight over her, pressing her down, Y/N never felt more comfortable. And when he finally took off her bra, she didn't feel exposed. It felt good, especially when his mouth started playing with her nipples; his lips sucking them deliciously, one of the hands flicking the other one, making her whimper and moan under his touch.

"Lan, please, I need more", she asked. “Do something”.

"I want to take my time with you", he said. “You're my biggest trophy tonight. My girl”.

"Your girl", she smiled, once again feeling the tug on her heart.

Lando and Y/N had never felt such a powerful connection during sex. Maybe it hits different when you're doing it with someone you love, and you know they love you as well. Every move seemed perfect, almost rehearsed, and every touch felt too intense.

His fingers rolled at her thong and pulled them a little bit, asking for permission. And Y/N raised her hips in response, letting him strip her naked. Lando used his knees to spread her legs apart and started to tease her with a finger on her slit.

“Is this okay?”, he asked innocently, but Lando couldn't fool Y/N. She knew there wasn't an ounce of innocence in his body.

“Fuck, yes, very okay”, she whimpered, making him smite with how reactive she was to him.

So when Lando started to properly touch her, Y/N easily came undone for him. She mourned when his calloused fingers rubbed circles on her clit, making her arch her back and relax under his touch. No one had paid such attention to how good she felt in bed, and now he was making sure she was the centre of attention.

“So wet, my love”, he pointed out. “Tell me what you want me to do”.

“I-I…” she tried to speak, but it was hard to focus with his fingers on her pussy making her feel so good. “Can you put it in, please?”

“Of course, pretty girl”, he granted her wish, but worked with her to make it even better. “I’m gonna need you to relax with me. Take a deep breath and leave it all to me, alright? Gon’ make you feel so good, baby. Nod if you understand me”.

Y/N nodded voraciously, making him smile before finally putting on finger inside, curling it in the right spot. Her mouth opened in a perfect O once he started hitting the right spot, and her moan was so loud that Lando could swear they would be hearing noise complaints soon. But he didn’t care. Well, she was moaning for him – his name – and nothing else in the world mattered.

“Lando, oh God”, she cried out. “I’m so close. Please, don’t stop”.

“Maybe I should get a little taste”, he suggested. “You smell amazing. Bet you taste just as sweet”.

Lando lowered himself between her legs and licked a long stripe on her pussy, just as he put another finger inside, stimulating her just as much as he could. The feeling of his short beard against her thighs was heavenly, just as much as the sweet sensation of his tongue on her hot cunt. He could’ve stayed there all night. Anything to make his girl feel good. Anything to hear his name come out of her mouth in pleasure.

“I’m gonna cum, Lan. Fuck, fuck, fuck!”, she cursed, her eyes shut so tightly that she could swear it was going to hurt at some point. But he didn’t really pay attention, fully focusing on following her responses, his boxers starting to feel too small around his hard cock. Lando even started to thrust his hips against the mattress for a bit, wanting to feel some friction for once. 

“Cum for me, angel”, he asked, and seconds later, she obeyed, her entire body tensing under his touch and relaxing a couple of seconds later. Lando managed to collect all the juice he could from her and came back from between her legs with his chin dripping wet. 

Y/N thought it was so hot when he used a thumb to clean it before putting it inside his mouth. Then Lando kissed her again, making her taste herself in his mouth. Also, he missed the feeling of kissing her. After years wanting all of her kisses, he just couldn’t get enough of her lips.

“Do you want me to retribute the gesture?”, she asked between kisses, but Lando shook his head no. “But you did so good”.

“But I’ve been given enough praise today. Tonight is just about you. About making you feel good”, he smiled, putting a stray of her head behind her ear. “I just want to be inside you”.

“Do you have a condom?”, she asked and Lando nodded, quickly getting off her to find some condoms in his suitcase. Before he came back, he stripped off the rest of his clothes and rolled the protection into his cock. “Good. I don’t want another mini me running around the world right now”, she joked. 

“A baby that’s a little bit of you and a little bit of me. I think that’s the dream”, he smiled, positioning himself between her legs again. “But not tonight, right?”

“Someday”, she smiled at him. Were they already making plans for the future? But they haven’t even talked about… whatever they were after tonight. 

“Now I just want to feel you”, he kissed her again, guiding his cock to brush its tip on her pussy, collecting her juices before pushing it in. “Fuck, so tight, baby. You feel so, so good”.

“Filling me up so good, shit”, she praised, pulling him for another kiss. “Just wait a second. You’re too big”.

Lando smiled with the comment, making him feel a little proud of himself. Also, it was too nice to stop for a second and watch Y/N squint her eyes, trying to adjust to his size, just as she lied underneath him, her hands resting on his bare chest. She opened her eyes for a second once it started to feel good and the sight was almost heavenly. The love of her life, his necklace hanging from her neck, his piercing green eyes looking deep into hers. That was everything.

“You can move now”.

He was careful, taking his movements slowly, thrusting his hips delicately against hers. Y/N digged her fingers on his bare back, leaving scratches on his skin, marking it with memories of this night. Lando gently pressed a hand of her throat as they continued kissing, and gently, he picked up the pace, finding the perfect balance between comfortable and pleasuring. It wasn’t about being rough; it was about showing how much they love each other.

They didn’t need to say it. The words were hidden between every kiss, every touch, every moan and whimper, every thrust, every smile. But Lando looked her in the eyes and felt like just showing it wasn’t enough. He had said it many times through the years, but now it weighted so much more in his tongue.

“I love you”, he said, making her smile with his confession.

“I love you too”, she replied, taking his hand from her throat and lacing it with hers. Lando did the same with the other one, feeling her pussy finally clenching around him. 

“You make me feel complete���, he continued. “I couldn’t imagine my life without you. I love you so, so much”.

“Good thing I feel the same”, she guaranteed. “Because life doesn’t have meaning without you”.

“Wanna cum with you, my girl”, Lando asked, grunting with how hard it was to keep it together for much longer. “Are you close, baby?”

“Close, but some more could help a little”, she opened a shy smile, but Lando didn’t hesitate on helping, immediately putting one of his hands on her clit, stimulating her a little bit more, pulling her over the edge just like him. Y/N could barely speak after that, feeling her entire body on fire, more than before, when he made her come undone just by using his fingers. “Fuck, I’m so close”.

“Ready, baby?”, he asked, but she could just shake her head in response. Lando barely had time to find it funny and cute, because all of his senses were enheightened by her. Once he felt her relaxing under him, finally reaching her high, he came as well, feeling his cock spill everything out while still inside her.

They both grew too tired to continue and Lando let his weight rest over Y/N, who wrapped her arms around him in a soft hug, feeling him going soft slowly. He lazily pressed some kisses to her shoulder as they both tried to catch their breaths for a second. Once he finally came to his senses, he got up from bed to get rid of the condom and find some cloths to clean them. 

“What a gentleman”, Y/N complimented, making her smile. Lando helped her clean up the best he could before throwing himself back in bed, pulling the soft and comfy blankets to cover their body.

“It was amazing”, he admitted, pulling her body closer, as he did so many times. But there was something about skin to skin contact that made them feel so different; so much more intimate. “If I knew it would be this amazing, I would’ve done it sooner”.

“I knew it would be amazing”, she confessed, feeling her cheeks heat up with the statement. Y/N had basically confessed she had thought about that moment before, which made Lando giggle. “Don’t even start”.

“Didn’t say anything”, he said as she hid her face on the crook of his neck. “C’mere”.

Lando pulled her back to look at him and locked their lips together once again. He gently held her face by the chin, smiling through the kiss, because he simply couldn’t believe that they were finally kissing each other. After so many years pinning after her, dreaming of raising a family with her, feeling his heart racing every time she entered a room and losing his head every time she smiled at him. He kissed her as if his life depended on it, because he was afraid she would go away.

“I love you”, Y/N said between the kisses, and Lando felt relieved that she said it first this time, feeling all his insecurities go away with those three little words that held so much power in them. “And I’m so, so proud of you. I can’t believe we finally got here, celebrating your first win. Can’t wait to celebrate many, many more nights. And I can’t wait to celebrate your first championship win”.

“I’m just glad to be here with you tonight”, he said. “With a win or without a win, you’re my biggest win tonight. I would’ve been just happy with winning you”.

“Cute”, she smiled.

“I love you so much”, Lando said it again, replying to what she said early. “Now let’s just sleep, baby. Recharge and move onto the next one”.

“Will you come back to London with me?”, she asked, wanting this, whatever it was, to not be over soon. Lando almost immediately nodded to her question.

“I’ll go anywhere you want me to”, he guaranteed. “All you have to do is ask”.

⋘ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 // 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ⋙

𝒔𝒐𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒍 𝒎𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒂 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 . 𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 - @celestialams @kapsylia @igotnorrrizz @hiireadstuff @bishhhitsaurion @mrsmaybank13 @bborra @sltwins @riccdannyf1 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @ctrlyomomma @lan4cha16 @alltoomaples @ellen3101 @hellyesjaehyun @tastebaldwin @sweate-r-weathe-r@carmenita122 @m0cha-bunny @lqvesoph@itscrzy @fangirlvibez @poppyflower-22 @livelovesports @logischeroktopus @happy-jj @saturnbloom77 @formulaal @secretgal66 @taisferrari-blog @sunsshinesunny @eclipsedcherry @tems13 @readingbringsjoy @timmispeach @kenzeyeballs @alilcloudy @rchitect-2015 @tillyt04 @eringaitskill @Honeyhatty12 @dreamercrowd @demig0d0fapollo @mxmtewnz @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @beyond-the-ashes @ijustgomessitupx @floraav @laiba26mindflay3r @marialovesf1 @sltwins @lizaschronicles @katieschry1 @loveofmylife12 @diaa-20 @urfavsgf @likedbygaslyy @notturlover @c-losur3 @brizzy-xo @gorgrussell @ellasaddiction2 @morketheduck @kravitzwhore @darkacademicvibes @jenna123456789 @crispymcniall @arsyao @phantomxoxo @noobmaster6931 @ohlahlaa @c0rpsecore @rafegirly @darleneslane @annalisenelson @nataliambraz @amorydsmt @slytherinholland @hstylesmermaid @harrysdimples05 @xxbaby-dollxx @neilakavak @xxx-betty @cheyennep3107 @maketheshadowsfearyou @kittylolly4 @rain-against-the-glass @swechchhaj @kpoplover-2013 @landososcar @plotpal @hellowgoodbye @ace1997 @shynerdwhispers @larastark3107 @idkiwantchocolate @formula1-sophia @lando-505 @nichmeddar @poppyflower-22 @skynel09 @chelle1306 @eloriisits @justfranzi_ @lwstuff @evermore555 @klauslovemepls @amatswimming @harryescherry @rexit-mo @belennasif @hoeforlifee @arian-directioner @oh-austin @liv1209

[d33pwithinmys0ul]

it’s almost 4am and i can’t sleep so

1. default answer is Rick but to give an response that isn’t leading with my pussy i’d say summer. her development is so interesting and i love seeing her be a badass and i hope we get more of her soon

2. Space Beth has to be the clone. Too tired to elaborate might make a separate post later

3. Tough, since C137’s whole spiel in the final episode of S6 implied that they were at least friends, but alongside the “forgetting the ice cream” bit earlier in the season… I want to say yes and that’s what the writers are alluding to, but if Beth Twinstinct never happened I would’ve said that the writers would never have done that. However Rick is not just one of the main title characters, he’s a man, and I think Twinstinct might’ve been greenlit for a bit of fetishization especially if we take in mind the majority stereotypical r&m fan base, reddit would be pissed so i really don’t know

4. “Good” in the spirit of the show, tamanthaperson or cloaca. “Good” as in an actual good name? idk maybe Ashe (phoenix person reference)

5. i think i read something about a 70 episode deal before season 4 or 5 came out, we get about 10 maybe 12 at most per season, so like 10 season maybe? it’s late and i’m no good at math. but i’d rather have a fully thought out story and conclusion with an appropriate amount that will fulfill that. i wouldn’t mind a prequel spin-off series either tbh

6. smash smash smash check out the fanfic pinned on my page if u feel the same (read tags pls)

7. maybe a bad take but story lord! i love both episodes he’s in and all that he represents especially as a writer that sucks at villains

8. so many favorites!! i love Mortyplicity. despite being later in the series it felt “old school” Rick and Morty and i loved the way the whole storyline unraveled. it’s a comfortable fun favorite, like rickshank redemption or the citadel episodes (not necessarily comfortable subject matter some of them). i absolutely adore the diehard episode in season 6 and how it poses the issue of leaving parts of morty’s consciousness behind. absolutely love it. my uncomfortable ish favorite is the pissmaster episode, because it was art and i’m too tired to elaborate. i was really relieved to find that he wasn’t a robot during that point.

9. when i started the show i wasn’t a huge fan of rick potion #9 except for the ending, i didn’t really know why. now, i think it’s a tie between the chuds/sperm ordeal and the episode in season 1 with king jellybean that just makes me uncomfortable in a bad way

10. least favorite character i guess would be tammy? her stuff wasn’t very fleshed out and felt out of nowhere but it’s not a huge deal to me.

11. ricks done a lot of shit obviously. i have a shit memory but i guess id say the reveal in the season 6 premiere with the time loop in his original dimension. that’s pretty fucked up. obviously his family gets treated not well all the time, especially morty, but to take that out on the whole world was pretty jarring for me

12. I don’t know. obviously the main two characters have iconic voices, but i don’t think it’s impossible to find people that can imitate them well. i’m gonna hope the studio does the best for the show and we’ll see how it goes. i’ll def miss the old voices if the new ones are that much different, but fuck roiland.

13.can’t think of names but my mutuals :)

14. summer for sure. being the older sister, the only girl, feeling left out, and navigating teen girlhood was ass and i can’t imagine the sci fi bs on top of that.

15. no clue what my answer would’ve been previously but earlier today i was high and absolutely lost my shit over the season four (?) premiere moment between hologram rick and morty about food. “bologna and an orange” is now my favorite response, because imagine just eating that that’s fucking rough

16. best is subjective obvi, my favorite seasons were 3&4 and most of 5

17. worst is also subjective, so i’m going to say that season 2 is the most forgettable. i know the premiere is the time cop debut, and that total rickall happens, otherwise not much comes to mind and that’s likely my fault anyway

18. that’s tricky. i’ve loved the show for so long and can also recognize that other people work on the show as well. id be very disappointed and a little angry because i cannot excuse what roiland did or believes in, so i don’t know. i’m just hoping for the best and that that doesn’t happen.

19. multiple are memorized. as of 4:18am the ones i can recall besides my new favorite in response 15, “your boos mean nothing i’ve seen what makes you cheer” “a vat of fake acid are you dying of dementia” “who wants pill soufflé!?”

20. probably jerry. he did some growing and can prob easily lay low

20 SHORT-ANSWER* RICK AND MORTY QUESTIONS FOR YOU:

*You can write long answers, if you'd like! Feel free to skip questions, too!

Who is your favourite Rick and Morty Character?

Which Beth is the clone: Domestic Beth or Space Beth?

Do you think that Rick-C137 and Rick Prime were previously romantically involved?

What do you think would be a good name for Birdperson and Tammy's daughter?

How many seasons do you think Rick and Morty will eventually have?

Rick C-137: smash or pass?

Who is your favourite Rick and Morty villain?

Your favourite Rick and Morty episode?

Your least favourite Rick and Morty episode?

Who is your least favourite Rick and Morty character?

What is, in your opinion, the worst thing that Rick C-137 has ever done?

Do you think that Rick and Morty will be affected substantially by having to change the voice actor for Rick and Morty and a bunch of other characters?

What's a good Rick and Morty blog?

Who is the Rick and Morty character that you relate to the most?

The funniest Rick and Morty bit/scene, in your opinion?

Best Rick and Morty season?

Worst Rick and Morty season?

Would you stop watching the show if Justin Roiland returned?

Your favourite Rick and Morty quote?

If you had to be one member of the smith family in the next season, who would you want to be?

[lorata]

Okay this might be a little too spicy to ask, so feel free to ignore, but do you have any THG fanfic/fandom characterization/headcanon pet peeves? Aside from I assume one-note Careers. Mine is the way people erase the mentorship bond! I see so much Finnick stuff especially where he tells the writer’s chosen lover for him that they’re the “only one who sees the real him,” and I’m always like, hello, MAGS???

oh hard agree, plus I'm not a super fan of that even without the mentor thing. like don't get me wrong I love a good, codependent fictional relationship that would be absolutely destructive in real life (delicious) but everyone should have more than one person. there can be MULTIPLE codependent relationships! codependent fractal! a weird group of people with a weird shared experience that nobody else can hope to understand. FEED ME THAT LIKE SKITTLES.

(don't come for me about my fictional preferences. leave me and the fellowship ALONE)

on a similar note I also used to get tired of how everyone made all the mentors sexually and/or romantically involved with their victors (like Beetee/Wiress, Brutus/Enobaria or Finnick/Annie where he's her mentor, whoever.) like no shade to people who read or write it BUT I feel like there was a weird period where no one could envision ANY close relationship without writing it into a pairing. Maybe it's my aroace coming to the surface but I got a bit grumpy. So I wrote an endless permutation of complicated, intense relationships with absolutely no sex or romance aspect. what are ya gonna do about it!

one of my less controversial peeves is "peeta starts out dating glimmer who is vapid and promiscuous and cheats on him so he can get together with katniss who is perfect" like an early taylor swift song. it was E V E R Y W H E R E for a while. if there was a modern AU, Peeta was dating Mean Bitch Glimmer and she'd get her comeuppance around the end of Act I. why. please. one of Katniss' actual, literal, canon character arcs is realizing Glimmer was a person who was forced to act the way she was (her interview dress chosen by her adult stylist was SEE-THROUGH) and she died, alone, for an audience who immediately forgot she existed. and you're gonna "not like other girls" her for your wish-fulfillment barista AU. cool.

on the other end of the scale -- and this is a very personal trigger, so I don't blame anyone for liking it -- the District 5 repro girls / thin girls fanon that was rampant in 2012-2014 fanfic. a bunch of people incorporated it into their stuff but it is such a violent, visceral nope for me that if a story uses it I close the tab immediately.

characterization-wise, there is a fic i still see floating around where rue makes me scream. listen. rue is the oldest of 6 kids AND her father died when she was even younger than katniss. she has been working full time to support her family in a job where you are literally murdered for mistakes since she was nine years old. rue is calculating and intelligent, she tells katniss that peeta is "okay" when she knows he's bleeding to death because if katniss realizes he's dying she'll leave. PLEASE. respect the hustle, the girl is not naive.

ok you did say spicy so i will give you ONE (1) hot take. it drives me bananas when fanfic uses Cato Hadley and Clove Kentwell. they first appeared on wattpad in 2010, when fandom tossed a few names around for a while and hadley and kentwell were the ones that stuck. but IT'S NOT THEIR REAL LAST NAMES STOP ADDING THEM TO THE WIKIS AND TELLING PEOPLE IT'S CANON AAAAAAAAA.

there's my one petty hunger games post, lol. i am pretty live and let live, generally if I don't like something I scroll past or filter it out. the annoyance happens when it's stuff like, trying to read fic about Careers and the first page of results is just them background tagged in an ensemble fic about the main characters -- but that's a minor character in juggernaut fandom problem, that's EVERYWHERE. i do the "search within results summary: name" trick to solve that

[timextoxhajima]

Boundary [Dana’s 700 Special]

Track: Fever - Enhypen / TiO - Zayn / Close - Nick Jonas, Tove Lo

➣ Member: my og bias owo

➣ Genre: idol! ju x stylist! [fem] reader

➣ Warnings: swear words and if you squint, some smut

➣ Word Count: i’m like 100% sure it’ll be as long as accelerate [i was wrong it’s nowhere near but whatever]

➣ A/N: Thank you for 700 followers. You are all nothing but amazing ♡

➣ Taglist: @taesty-wander-lust​ @tbzzhoe​ @suzy-rainbow​ 

He’s going to be the absolute death of me.

The thought is loud in your head, and you were almost sure you would’ve blurted it out had the filming studio been empty. Breaking Dawn was blasting from the speakers behind the MV director, experimenting with some strange angles that you’ve never seen any other MV director try with the group before. 

If you thought Reveal was dangerous, this might be worse.

“Okay! Let’s do that hook into the chorus first and we’ll see how that angle goes!”

“Breaking Dawn, I see-”

“Cut! Juyeon-” The director snorts while staring at the monitor from the camera. “That was great but um, we’ll need to rate the video if we release this one.”

Never mind. It is worse.

“Yah, Juyeon!”

“Ahh... seriously?”

“You already have enough screen time, why are you so greedy?!”

The members crowd around Juyeon and shove him playfully as the director films that part from the monitor, and brings his cellphone over to the group to see. You can barely hear the music from the phone, given how far you were standing from the filming area. 

The group of 11 burst into loud yells and frustrated groans, with Younghoon and Chanhee giving their iconic ‘OoO’ faces to Juyeon. The main man chuckles, embarrassed, and shakes his head while waving it off.

“I didn’t intend to make it so suggestive, sorry!”

“It’s alright, that was great, really!” The director assures him. “It’s just that we can’t release that without rating the MV, and you guys don’t really have that kind of reputation yet so, we won’t do that for you guys now. But anyways, can we get a 10 minute break and we’ll pick up where we left off?”

The boys celebrate in unison, Eric immediately rushing off for the washroom, some members going to the staff to ask for their phones, others going for the monitor to check their progress and the remaining approaching their stylists for appearance maintenance.

So, when Juyeon approaches you with that sly-mixed-with-shame smile, you can’t help but to shake your head at him. 

“Really? He asks you to go all out and you look like you want to eat the camera,” Pulling open your little kit, you set it on the table next to you. You pull out the comb and hairspray and start adjusting his hair again - all that dancing’s pushed some strands out of its rightful position.

“Aw, so you agree that I looked good enough?”

“What?” The pitch is higher than expected, but you hope your feigned annoyance camouflages the pinch of jealousy. “Please! The director said it’ll be rated!”

Juyeon laughs, standing with his feet a little more apart than natural for you to have easier access to his hair. 

“Well, you’re the one who did my hair and makeup. If it’s anybody to blame, wouldn’t it be you?” 

His words halt the sharp end of your comb in his hair, and you poke it into his scalp for good measure while puffing out your cheeks. He chuckles it off. 

“Excuse you, sir, Cre.Ker gave me a color palette and a set of reference pics. Ever since they cracked the code with you with Reveal, they just won’t stop with this genre of style on you.”

“I mean... I definitely prefer my current style over what they did to me in Boy.”

The memory cooks up a bunch of images in your head, and you fail to stop the giggle that runs off your tongue when you return the comb to the kit. 

“Aw, come on, that was cute,” Picking up a brow pencil, you fill in the tiny fade-out. “You were, what? 19? No reason for you to look as raunchy as you do now.”

“It’s a pity you only met me just before I become ‘raunchy’.”

“Why? I mean, ‘Juyeon’s not a good boy’ though. Raunchy’s closer to that than what you did pre-Reveal.”

“I meant it!” Juyeon widens his eyes and his brows shift up his forehead just as the tip of the brow pencil lifts off his skin. “I’m happy Cre.Ker’s letting us show what we want to.”

“And I’m happy for you too,” You finish up on his foundation where it’s starting to wear off. “But one day, you’re gonna cross a line and break some hearts.”

Juyeon smiles as you cap on all your equipment and close your kit. Resting one hand on your hip, you quickly give his hair one last poke before he resumes his normal standing position.

“What if I only want to break specific hearts though?”

A frown befalls your face and you forge an ugly look by crooking your lips. “What? Was that an attempt to flirt? Please stop,” Waving him off, you turn and pick up your kit, walking away on your heels as Juyeon tails you.

He’s just practising flirting on me at this point. Best friends and best friends for what? Get MY heart broken? PLEASE.

“Flirt with Kevin if you want, he’ll give you better advice,” You turn to the film area and sure enough, Kevin was busy twerking into the camera and Changmin’s just face palming himself. 

“Oi Kevin! Stahb it!” You yell across the space and Changmin points to you, turning to yell at Kevin.

“Yah, even y/n’s telling you to stop!”

Chuckling, you turn into the dressing room as another hair stylist finishes with Sangyeon in the mirror. 

“Hello sir, you look kinda tired today, are you resting well?”

“Don’t get me started. Schedule’s packed into June,” Sangyeon subtly shakes his head, but his stylist holds his cheeks and shifts his face back to face the mirror.

“Sangyeon, please face the mirror. It’s not my fault if your hair gets messed up again,” The hair stylist grins as he picks up the hairspray.

“Sorry,” Sangyeon blinks at him and purses his lips. Juyeon crashes into the two seater-sofa in the corner of the dressing room and groans tiresomely, resting his head on the top surface of the headrest. 

“Well, you should get some rest before Kingdom kicks in,” You place the kit on the dressing table and sit down in the two-seater next to Juyeon. “It’s not going to be an easy fight, y’know.”

“Right! You used to be ATEEZ’s hairstylist!” Sangyeon’s eyes widen and you can see him struggling not to turn to you directly instead of trying to find you in the strangest angle of the reflection in the mirror. 

“Yeah. Those guys are intense, and I mean intense! Six out of eight are known for performance skills and the other two... one produces 99% of their tracks and the other belts out notes even I can’t reach.”

“You sound like you were sent from KQ to intimidate us-” Sunwoo struts in and waves an annoying finger in your face.

“I’m not-” Swatting his finger away, Juyeon leans forward and pulls Sunwoo’s hand. “I’m just saying for good measure- it’s not going to be easy. Stray Kids is also going to be great competition, not to mention iKON and-”

“AhHH, we get it!” Sunwoo shushes you, swinging his hand with Juyeon’s.

“No matter the outcome, you all need to know that you guys were stellar last year. I was new then, but it was absolutely stunning to watch you guys work and put so much effort into your performances.”

“Oh my God, yeah, you could not shut up about the Danger performance,” Sangyeon cooes, letting his stylist finally finishes and shifts to pack the hair equipment. 

“I’ll bet it’s cause your best friend over here got the most screen time,” Sunwoo perks up a mischievous brow and smirks at you.

Juyeon’s eyes widen and stares at the youngest, “I didn’t get the most screen time.”

“If not you then who?” Sangyeon butts in as he stands.

“Uh... Changmin?”

Sunwoo and Sangyeon go quiet. 

“Yah, you had a good amount of screen time too!” Sangyeon turns and blurts out at Sunwoo, playfully shoving him. 

“Y’all are being loud in here,” Kevin’s head pops out from beyond the door frame, one of his stylists tagging behind him and struggling to pat down his clothes. 

“No, tell me if Sunwoo had more screentime than Changmin in Danger from last year,” Sangyeon wraps an arm around Sunwoo and slowly walks him out. 

“What? I don’t know, Changmin had the opening and the dance break...”

Sangyeon’s hairstylist follows closely, and by instinct, he shuts the door behind him, leaving you with Juyeon in the dressing room. It’s humid, from all the lights turned on in the room, and the leather seat wasn’t the most comfortable thing to sit on.

Turning to Juyeon, his eyes are gently shut, and frankly, he looked like he was about to fall asleep. The backrest of the sofa sinks when you lean back, mimicking his position.

“You have like four minutes left so don’t even think of falling asleep.”

“I’m not sleeping,” He offers a tiny smile on his lips, eyes still shut. 

“Sure, you’re not.”

“Wake me up when the director needs me.”

“You wish,” The leather under your legs squeak when you push yourself off, but he sticks out an arm at your stomach and pushes you back down. Judging by the miniscule smirk on his face, he’s just messing with you. “What do you think you’re doing? I have a job to do and you have a music video to film.”

He remains quiet. Someone shouts at Eric outside.

“You’re being fucking weird today, sir,” You lift a hand and grab his arm to move it away, but he swiftly wraps his fingers around your wrist and yanks you forward instead. 

Using your palms to keep the distance between your faces, you’re hovering above him now, breath on his upper lip. The sweat’s begun to collect in the lines of your palms, stuck to the arm rest by his side and the cushion he’s leaning on. 

Your vision immediately darts to his face upon the bold move, and he’s got that slight smile prancing on his lips when he’s thinking of a joke or something funny and doesn’t want to say it. It’s been a good year of being Juyeon’s best friend (apart from the members), so you’ve definitely grown to know how to read him by his actions.

You sigh, rolling your eyes and removing your legs from next to his thighs.

“Juyeon-”

And then he cuts you off by holding you in position with his arm around his waist, challenging your knees to hold you up - because if they buckled, you’ll land right on top of him. 

“What the Hell do you think you’re doing?” 

Knock knock

“y/n, are you done with Juyeon’s hair? Filming’s resuming!”

There’s an awkward tension between you and Juyeon now, with his eyes wide open and staring into yours, arm still around your waist. But having his nose just inches away from yours and his breath breathing down on your philtrum feels so surreal. It feels like it’s a dream that you’ve failed to pull yourself out from.

He parts his lips, then purses them, and sighs through his nose. 

“Yeah, she’s done! I’ll be out in like, two seconds!”

Your gaze finds his and you’re panicking when he’s moving again. Within two seconds, you’re flat on your back on the length of the couch - and this time, he’s holding himself above you.

“What the- I-”

“We’ll continue this later back at the company, I promise,” Then he rounds your cheek and presses a kiss into your cheekbone instead.

He pulls back, offering you his kind smile and a ruffle into your hair for good measure. Nothing in your body is working when you hear him shuffle for the door, and it clicks shut behind him, with Breaking Dawn already blasting in the filming space.

Sucking in a deep breath, you don’t realise how hard your heart is thumping in your head until you hear your own shaky exhale. You don’t know where to look, you can still feel his grip on your waist and his breath on your upper lip, and everything’s just a mess right now.

What the Hell just happened?

“Eric - Dior Shirt Size M...” You mumble under your breath, fingers gripping the pen to the clipboard so hard, your writing would probably leave a mark in the sheet under. 

“I think this is the last luggage!” Younghoon’s stylist drags the black case in, lining it up with the last unopened one. “Need help?”

“Yeah, just open the luggage for me and separate Sangyeon’s clothes from Jacob’s, but otherwise I can handle it on my own.”

She nods, laying it down and unzipping it for the clothes to spew out. “How’s working here? It’s been over a year, right?”

“Mhm,” You glance at her, obviously tired. “It’s alright, but thanks to your advice since last year, I don’t think it could’ve been better.”

With a kind smile, she looks up at you, placing Sangyeon’s pants over his stack. “You’re experienced from ATEEZ, so it wouldn’t have been that hard anyway.”

She stands, resting her hands on her hips as you walk over, squatting to check Sangyeon and Jacob’s clothes. 

“So... what’s going on with you and Juyeon?”

I’d like to know too.

“Huh?” You look up at her, head tilted to the side with a sneaky cocked brow. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, please- All the stylists here know you and Juyeon are like- hanky panky nowadays. Pretty sure the boys know too, or at least have some idea.”

A cackle runs your throat dry as you graduate your attention to Jacob’s clothes. “Is that what they’re calling it? ‘Hanky-panky’? Cute.”

“Do you know why they’re still in a meeting this late?”

“No, why would I bother? As long as I don’t lose my job, it’s none of my concern.”

“They’re in meeting to be informed that their dating ban has been lifted.”

Your grip around the pen tightens, but halts abruptly. 

“Ah...” She sighs, contemplated with herself. “Cat got your tongue? Or should I say... Juyeon got your-”

Interrupted by the practise room door being pushed open, both of your attentions immediately flit to the new commotion. 

“Oh, Juyeon! Meeting’s over?”

“Yeah,” He turns and closes the door behind him. His hair was still waxed up from the day’s schedule, makeup still on but fading. Clothes snug around his shoulders with his belt tight around his hips. Those stupid jeans never did you any good since day 1. “Sangyeon said he left a ring in one of the luggages so he sent me to come get it while he counsels Kevin for twerking.”

“y/n’s just going through Sangyeon’s wardrobe, so she might find something,” Your colleague’s begun to take small, insignificant steps towards the door, and your anxiety begins to increase with every inch she places between the two of you.

“Which is why I’m here,” He stuffs his hands into his back pockets.

“Right, right,” Now, she’s already got her hand on the door knob, glancing past him and at you with wide, glistening eyes. “I gotta go check your wardrobe for tomorrow so... I’mma go now, and uh... security comes by around 12am. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“What-” You blurt out, receiving a sharp, surprised look from Juyeon.

“Bye! Bye Juyeon!”

“Bye,” He waves. 

“No, wait-” 

And so, the door clicks shut behind her, and her shadow behind the translucent material disappears down the corridor. 

The whir of the air-conditioner in the practice room fills all the awkward openings in the room, but all you can hear is the rapid thunk of your heart in your brain - as if that was even possible. 

Thunkthunkthunkthunkthunkthunkthunkthunkthunkthunkthunkthunkthunk

“About earlier today-”

“Give me a moment while I look for Sangyeon’s ring. What does it look like?” Standing up too fast, your vision goes white and a second of dizziness throws you off your balance.

So, of course, Juyeon rushes over and holds you by your waist before your ankles or knees give way. The incessant blinking makes you wish you could actually pass out right now, because your weight’s in his arms and you can’t bring yourself to look him in the eye.

“Iron deficiency much?” The corner of his lips curl up into his cheek before releasing you. “Do you need to sit down?”

Clearing your throat, you turn away first. “No, I-”

“Good, because I have some points to make and you’re gonna stop running away from them like you’re doing now.”

The change in tone runs chills down your spine and goosebumps erupt all over your skin - thank god you were wearing a blazer, safe from his observation. 

“How have you tolerated it so much?” He folds his arms across his chest, tilting his head innocently but his eyes say otherwise. It’s always his eyes that tell a whole different story from the person he’s known to be. 

“Y’know, being around me but you’re so calm and collected and I just...” He shakes his head, and to your dismay, takes a step forward - which drives you backwards. “How?”

His voice is too sing-songy. It’s too calm and collected for you because you’re about to barf up your dinner, which was a good 4 hours ago now. There’s nothing left in your stomach to barf up. 

He takes another intimidating step and you wince at your inability to look him in the eye.

Another step back. 

“Like, I know we’re friends but my God-” Shaking his head, he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip.

Another step forward. Another backward.

“It’s upsetting that I can look ‘raunchy’ and it doesn’t seem to do anything to you... But seeing you the way you are every other day makes me want to- just-”

Another step forward. 

One more one back.

And your breath halts.

Your back hits the wall, the rear of your skull lined with the pillar. 

Oh, no.

Gritting your teeth so tight, your jaw starts to ache and your temples are throbbing. 

“I’m not seeing things, right?” A flicker of curiosity sparkles in his eyes when you muster up the courage to look at him - only to regret it instantly. “It’s not in my head that you feel the same way I do, right?”

“I... Don’t know what you’re talking about- You’re an idol... and I’m- I’m just your stylist and I-”

“‘Just my stylist’?” The comment forces his brows into a slight frown, before he lifts his hand and covers the bottom half of his face with his palm. “Rethink what you just said.”

Sucking in a deep breath, your chest wells with a horrid mix of desire and self-discipline. Those two don’t go well together. 

“We can talk about this some other day,” You choose to say, dragging your body along the pillar in a bid to shift out from the wall-Juyeon sandwich like a fool. He lifts his arm and presses his palm into the pillar behind you, caging your poor, poor soul in this fateful corner of his stupid practice room.

“Juyeon, we need... boundaries in this industry. One scandal and it’ll destroy your career.”

“Boundaries?” He buckles his elbows, shrinking the gap between your noses. “Boundaries are for idols who still have a dating ban.”

Breathing down your nose, he’s too close for comfort. You can smell his cologne, the scent of his hair wax and see the bumps on his cheek under the faint layer of makeup. You don’t realise you’re trembling until he tilts his head ever so slightly, free hand reaching up to your chin to steady your face.

“Stop running from me,” Shaking his head painstakingly subtly, he whispers into your lips. “You were mine from the start and you know that.”

The adrenaline rush through your nerves sets off fireworks all over you when he slots his body against yours, lips fitted with yours like puzzle pieces; against the wall, with his palms on your cheeks. There was no care or consideration with how much strength he was channeling into this kiss - it feels so pent-up, so frustrated. Without warning, your body resigns as you circle your arms around his shoulders.

Gripping the rim of his collar in your hands, his hands drop to your waist and holds you closer, if it were even possible. A million thoughts race through your head - and at the same time, none. This moment was something you didn’t even know you needed. 

Juyeon’s hands roam the small of your back as he keeps you against the wall, relaxing into the kiss and sighing into it instead. 

This bliss comes in the form of him. Him who provides you all the sinful wants deep down inside you. 

But this bliss doesn’t last, for the practice room door swings open violently and tears Juyeon off you.

“I told you to find my ring, not hook up with your crush!”

[margaetyrell]

honestly i’m so tired of all this gaylor stuff that is going on. look, this is the first time i speak about it and i won’t do it again but i just need to get this off. idk what even started it now, but people seriously need to understand once and for all that it is just as weird to hate an almost non-existent group in the fandom and argue against it to earn coins to be the best fan, while underestimating and prejudging other people you don’t even know, and when you are gonna say hurtful things that you will later on regret, bc there is a 98% chance they will be understood as homophobic even if that wasn’t your intention. that is what it is. 'no but i’m bi and i find gaylors disgusting' that statement is even more damaging tbh, bc once again you are prejudging when you should know better how this hate form has always been harming to the collective you belong to

that’s the main reason ppl are afraid to even joke about it in their own blogs, or analise lyrics under a extremely brilliant, queer lens that is kept to themselves precisely bc the fear of being judged and attacked. i’m a gaylor and i have no shame admitting so, but i don’t talk about it nor write my own connections in terms of her lyrics bc of this, as i felt personally hurt by such judment in the past and talked about it with one only person privately. in fact, if you go to my gaylor tag you aren’t gonna find k*ylor, crazy easter eggs and conspiracy theories, instead it is full of quotes that she herself has said, queer campaigns she has been part of, thoughts ppl have found behind her lyrics and lots of gifs of her wearing lgbt+flag colours - all public. that is all, and i’m even reluctant to rb anything related to her past relationships, just as candids or posts about her current one. which btw does not mean that bc i’m a gaylor i don’t consider it true or that i automatically don’t believe anything she says and think joe is a beard, as most of you simply assume

THIS when that’s all some of you seem to talk about, like every time she releases a rerecording, the memes that circulate are 'well j.jonas will always be mr perfectly fine and all these songs are about him' fact that even his wife got to see and at which they both laugh now, probably to downplay how fucking tired of it they must be. and what about the hate harassment jake has been receiving since red tv came out, which he hasn’t spoken a word about, despite facing even death threats. or the fact that ppl keep saying 'lmao harry you are next, cannot wait for speak now tv so john gets what he deserves.' like ??? but that way of talking about your fave is alright just bc she is straight? is that supposed to make her feel better? isn’t all that just as toxic or even more so?? bc gaylors in general don’t make that much noise or harm to begin with. so to excuse all of this under 'all those relationships have been confirmed by both parties and that is why i have the right to talk about them' sorry but it’s the biggest bullshit i’ve ever heard 1) bc no, most of such relationships have in fact never been confirmed by both parties and by no means have these songs been confirmed by Taylor herself, ever. 2) the fact that a relationship has been public does not give you the right to inspect it and talk about it, once again, as if you were taylor’s bff and not even that !!! as in general friends and real fans don’t talk about her life so frivolously, no matter how much you excuse yourself under this shit that keeps crossing all boundaries

so basically, talk about her private life all you want like i personally dgaf, but i find it quite hypocritical to hate on a minority that happens to be lgbt, casually!! for saying 'hmm wait a sec, wonderland sounds gay and has too many similarities with dianna' 'hmm i wonder what happened there, whether they were friends or not, that was such a weird relationship' which even j.lawrence joked about saying ‘i’d just like to know what’s between kk and ts' - not the best example, but you get where i’m going. frankly, i highly doubt taylor would give a shit if i write a post on a social site she doesn’t even use anymore, that it’s gonna be reblogged by 4 ppl and possibly get 20 hate asks in return, like @13sleepless deals with on a daily basis, which is terrifying and admirable of them. bc who really care about this are those who claim not to be homophobic or have nothing against queer interpretation while continuing to make arguments against it and not only song interpretations, but the very words and actions that taylor herself has done on purpose, under advertising her albums, tours, or whatever and i’m not even talking about easter eggs. i mean, is it not by logic the same to say 'well i’m not declaring anything new if i say that dear john is about j.mayer' as to say 'well i’m not declaring anything new either by saying, hey, taylor made a song/mv full of gay themes, full of ppl from the collective, where she even wears clothing and a bi coloured wig that has been publicly recognized, started a campaign in support and an entire album promo where in the previous mv she said gay pride makes me ME!!!’ like...... isn’t it? sorry weren’t those her literal words?? okay....... then please explain to me how it is for you bc if you really think that doesn’t sound problematic or i’m making it up, it may be time to evalue your own morals and stop questioning those you judge under the same closeted box, without respecting them individually and without wanting to learn a shit about the matter

[littlemisslipbalm]

“you make me so angry sometimes”

idk if this gif makes sense, but i feel like it will if you read the story, it just gives me that vibe. 

A one shot I cooked up idk, it’s about Harry and a makeup artist on DWD, it’s quite angsty, idk how that happened, it’s also very long, idk how that happened either, maybe i do a part 2, maybe i don’t idk lmk. Feedback is appreciated, not proofread. REBLOGS help writers tremendously and i love reading whatever you write in the tags its my favorite thing!! Love yall and Merry Christmas!

Word Count: 17.7k | Warnings: ENEMIES to LOVERS! swearing, angst!, some anxiety -like self-doubt, yn being mean to harry kind of a lot, i dont remember, nothing too crazy, Nick Kroll?, lots of conversation

-

When she pictured herself as a makeup artist in Los Angeles, she hadn’t pictured exactly what she was doing right now.

She had expected doing gorgeous makeup for gorgeous actresses or doing wildly fun stuff like in Euphoria. And because of that she had worked her ass off to get where she was today. She had practiced for hours, worked countless hours for free, and networked to the cows came fucking home.

So why the fuck was she using tattoo-strength concealer to cover up the maybe 60 tattoos some asshole musician turned actor had all over?

Don’t Worry Darling was her first major film to work on so she couldn’t complain. She was happy to simply be there. Well she had been. The first day she had showed up 15 minutes early and had worn her favorite power suit she had. It was dark navy with a white lace long sleeve turtleneck underneath. She hoped to look fun but professional.

Hollywood was all about impressions, especially first ones, even when you’re the makeup artist. She had quickly learned that she was one of six makeup artists. One of them being the friend who had helped her get the job, Angie. Angie was like her surrogate mother in Los Angeles that she had met on her first film job for something much less high profile than Olivia Wilde’s second directing project. Her braided grey hair and fabulous jeans had drawn Y/N right in and they had connected instantly.

Since Y/N was deemed the most inexperienced by the head of the makeup department, she was relegated to easier jobs: assisting the other artists on main characters sometimes, mostly dealing with minor characters touch ups (and full make-up if she was lucky), and the job nobody wanted: tattoo coverage.

Harry Styles was one of the leads for the film and besides his minimal acting, everyone knew he was a worldwide rockstar. With the rock and roll life starting off as a popstar life at the ripe age of 16, he had amassed around 60 tattoos in the past decade. Impressive by her standard normally. She usually counted herself as an appreciator of tattoos and their art, finding them similar to makeup and the self expression that came with both forms. Especially since she had a few of her own, but when she walked into Trailer #6 and saw a good amount of Harry’s tattoos, she wanted to murder every artist he’d ever been to.

She had to make an inventory the first day of all of his visible tattoos when he was just wearing boxers. He had been friendly, trying to make conversation, but as the time wore on, they both grew tired and silent. She had to write down the location and a description of every tattoo and as he took off everything but boxers she grew more and more annoyed with his random and dumb tattoos. Some of them were amazing, the eagle, the anchor, the butterfly, and the ferns were probably her favorites. But some of them, she couldn't hold back her rolling eyes and annoyed expressions. The “Big” on his right big toe, a miniscule lock, almost everything on his inner left arm (the packers logo, Pingu, etc.)

She traces at the rose and the ship and then flips his arm out to reveal his inner arm to her gaze. “That is a big fucking bee.”

He snickers, “Y’like it?”

She ignores his question. “For god’s sake, someone is needle happy,” she said as she examined his left arm, taking note of every permanent drawing.

He shrugs his right shoulder, uninhibited by her prodding. “Dunno, beginning to regret some of them.”

“I would hope,” she mutters, scribbling on her paper the various ones she had just seen on his arm. Next was his ribcage ones.

He scoffs, “Oi, it’s not like you haven’t got any.”

“How would you-” She looks at him wide eyed.

“Right…” he takes his right hand and pushes her hair past her ear to reveal three little red line butterflies following the curve of her ear, “There. At least.”

She huffs and knocks his hand away from her. Her hair falling back into its place.

“Maybe some located in a few more intimate places I’m guessing from the red rushing to your cheeks right now.”

“Can you just let me do my job,” she says, not giving in to his teasing or sparing him a glance as she feels his intense gaze on her face. She was studying his left rib cage where a few cool tattoos happened to be.

“You at least have some taste or persuasive artists because not all of these are shit,” she speaks again after just the sound of her pen on the paper filled the trailer.

“Gee, thanks,” he laughs unamused and rolls his large green eyes.

She thought he had some of the biggest eyes she’d ever seen. But she also knew to keep that to herself because he’d either take it as a compliment and think she was noticing him too much or he’d take it as a massive insult and get her fired.

His right hand taps at his thigh, tapping a rhythm she didn’t care to pay any attention too. She just wanted to finish the stupid inventory of the stupid tattoos on this stupid man.

“Take those off,” she says to Harry, looking back at her clipboard again, filling up quickly with her notes.

He stands there, staring at her stubbornly. He was entirely bored with this exercise, especially since his company was some of the worst he’s ever had. She spares him a glance when she doesn’t notice any slipping off of the colorful sweatpants he’s wearing.

She arches a brow at him, her pen tapping impatiently against the paper. “Go on. Can’t imagine you want this to go on longer than it already has.”

He rolls his eyes again, slipping his thumbs into the waistline of the pants and tugging down. Simultaneously, he toes off the dirty vans he seemed to wear everywhere. The fabric pools easily and he steps out of them and discards them on the couch behind him. He’s actually wearing black briefs. She chooses not to notice anything further than that.

“Socks...can stay on,” She tries to say as he begins to peel one off. He stops midway and nods.

She flings his shirt to him, not needing to see his naked torso for another moment, “I know you’ve got some feet and ankle tats, but I also know that you won’t be wearing anything that will expose them. Thank your lucky stars that I don’t have to makeup your feet.”

He catches the shirt easily and slips his arms inside before tugging it quickly over his head and over his expansive shoulders. The ferns disappear out of sight.

“Well then we’re almost done then. Just got the knee ones -”

“And the tiger. That’s gonna be one son of a bitch,” she sighs and examines his legs, not bothering to crouch.

“What the actual fuck dude?” Her tone is exasperate and like she would rather be anywhere else than here.

“I’m sorry?” He sputters, hands on his hips and eyes bewildered.

“Yes. No. Oui. Non. Who are you?” She rubs at her eyes and shakers her head.

“S’a little rude.”

“You’re right,” she semi-rushes out at his serious tone, ready to apologize. When a grin spreads over his face and he chuckles under his breath she really wants to smack him upside the head. He was exhausting. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Thought it was funny at the time. Kind of think it’s even funnier now since it’s got you all mad.” He leans over her shoulder to look at her notes and when she glances at him unhappily he just looks smug.

“Alright,” she finishes the scribble of a description and clicks the end of her pen, “All done. You can get dressed. I’ll see you bright and early for tattoo makeup. It’s gonna take about an hour to do all this, just so you can mentally prepare for that.”

“It was nice to meet you,” he attempts at a friendly and professional farewell. “See you tomorrow…” he trails off as he watches her turn on her heel and walk out of the trailer door swiftly. The door swung shut and bounced a little bit in her wake.

Harry sighed and adjusted his clothes and hair in the mirror. After a moment he shakes his head, an even louder sigh escaping him.

-

“Good morning!” She greets happily, walking into the trailer without a knock. Well-rested and happy at least that she doesn’t have to just inspect a body, she looks around the trailer.

She realizes no one is there and she’s taken aback. First of all, if Harry wasn’t there then he shouldn’t have left his trailer unlocked. And second, he was fucking late, the fucking twat.

She grumbles, setting her coffee on the countertop. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “In through the nose, out through the mouth” she mutters. She knew this was a big opportunity and having a big star like Harry in her corner could make her career. She needed them to get off on a better foot today.

“Good form, I’d say relax the shoulders a little more,” the door swings open carrying the California twang-British accent that she would soon become all too accustomed to.

Harry points at her shoulders and narrows his eyes regarding her in the trailer. She offers a strained smile through the mirror and Harry sets down his personal things on the couch.  

“Alright, well let’s get started shall we,” she smiles and turns to him, gesturing to the swivel chair next to her.

He nods, a twinkle in his eye as he regards her. He’s unsure of the tone and attitude she’s giving him today. She had been feisty yesterday, cordial at times, but mostly biting and witty. He had liked it. It had made the whole ordeal bearable whereas now she seemed to be laying it on a little thick.

“Just your hands and neck today,” she says, pulling out the makeup materials needed and a checklist of the tattoos she needed to make sure were invisible.

“Should only take..a little under an hour today. Just gonna remind you now though, other days we won’t be so lucky.”

Harry chuckles under his breath and rolls his head around his shoulders before sitting in the chair. “Were you tired yesterday?” He inquires.

“Why do you ask?” She throws a glance over her shoulder at Harry. He’s begun slipping off his sweatshirt and yawns as he does it.

“You seem different from yesterday and I’m just wondering which one is the real you.”

She continues working about the room and rolls her eyes to herself, “I’m always the real me. I come no other way, but this morning I woke up and thought ‘this is the job you’ve fucking wanted for ages, so stop being such a bitch so you don’t get fired, you prick’.” She pauses and turns to face Harry. “The ‘you prick’ was directed at me, that was still part of my thought,” she adds.

He throws his head back and laughs. Then he nods, still laughing lightly, “I get that. Sometimes I’m just so in my head and yesterday I was just so fuckin’ bored. Sorry if I got on your nerves.”

“Don’t mention it.” She waves her hand at him nonchalantly.  

Then she moves to inspect his hands and notices the lack of rings, unlike yesterday when she had to make him take them off.

“You have amazing cuticles,” she notices and mentions without any pretences. Harry mutters his thanks, pursing his lips as he watches her work.

She stops her inspection and places the clipboard on the countertop in front of them.

“Could you take your necklaces off? I need to cover up half of the swallows and the years, for when you unbutton your shirt a bit.”

He wets his lips and nods, hands going to fiddle with the clasps behind his neck. He slips off one of the necklaces with ease, a yellow eye beaded necklace that he lays gently on the countertop next to the clipboard. Then he takes his cross and pulls it over his head, no clasp needed.

“Could I put some music on?” Harry asks after five minutes of Y/N working in silence and Harry only being able to stare either at himself, her work, or nowhere.

“I can,” she stops her work for a moment, “Can’t have you messing up the makeup before it sets. Otherwise I’d have to kill you.” Harry can’t be sure if she’s joking or not. Therefore, he was intent on not messing it up.

“Any requests?” She stands at the counter now, instead of seated on a stool working on Harry's left hand.

He shrugs, like he hasn’t got the faintest idea about good music. She refrains from rolling her eyes once again because she feels herself in a test. She wets her lips, sifting through different things in her Spotify and then lands on her playlist titled “it’s your song” named after Elton John’s song. It had some other musicians, a mix of Queen, Bowie, and more and she was sure she would pass the test.

She presses shuffle and She’s Always A Woman by Billy Joel begins to play over her laptop. Harry nods pleased and she wants to shake her head at him.

She can’t hold back the scoff though after a moment of going back to finishing his hand.

“What?” His British accent thickens with his annoyance growing.

“Nothing,” she chirps, intently putting the final touches on his wrist.

“Seriously. What?”

She stands and sets down the makeup. “Can you unbutton your shirt?” She made a note to herself that from now on she’d have to have him take his shirt off before setting to work because if his hands got messed up she’d have to start over. Thankfully he was already wearing a button up this morning.

He stares at her, offering no movement, just inquisitively waiting for her to respond to his original question.

She shuts her eyes, taking another deep breath and then bites at her lower lip. “It’s just...you’re so easy to read.” She fears adding anything else and moves towards him with the makeup hoping to encourage him to unbutton his shirt.  

His right hand deftly pulls at the buttons as he regards her. His eyes are intent on her, she can see him clearly calculating her. Her green paisley button up tucked up into the back of her bra leaving a splay of her stomach. The semi-balloon sleeves cinched at the wrists leading to her slightly ringed hands. The oversized blue jeans that have no holes, just a tiny patch right next to the left pocket. The frayed ends of the pants laying over her rather pristine white old skool vans.

The Boxer fades in as she waits for him to finish the unbuttoning of the shirt. He’s still staring at her.

“Am I?” He finally inquires, voice pitched higher like he doesn’t believe her.

She gives him a serious stare and leans over him and adjusts the collar of his shirt. She adds paper towels to avoid makeup on his clothes.  

“Yes!” She laughs, “And you don’t even think so, which is like...of course.”

He hums, tilting his head back as she sets to work on covering up the swallows. He wiggles his hands that now both rest on the arm chairs.

“I don’t see it.”

“Of course you don’t,” she glances at his face, their eyes meeting for a moment. “You’re Harry Styles. Everyone is in love with this image you created for yourself and it has just enough of your true self that people feel like they really know you, but you also maintain the illusion. So you think you’re this mysteriously amazing, not like the rest guy, but you are just like the rest of them. Obsessed with yourself and rich so you’re deemed eccentric rather than crazy for all the extravagant shit you do. So when you want me to play music and don’t offer any suggestions I know exactly what music I need to play for you to like me.”

“I feel like that last part says more about you than it does me,” he quirks a brow at her, straining his neck to look at her face as she continues to work.

She flushes, his response both better and worse than she expected. She had gotten a little carried away in her response and she had no idea why. She truly wasn’t one to go off on people so easily and especially not with someone she hardly knew, but something about Harry had her on edge. She was just thankful he hadn’t gotten mad at her response, instead he took it in stride. Further proving her point that he was extremely smart and did things purposefully and she saw right through it all.

She grumbles, “It says that all anyone has to do to get close to you is understand the smallest bit about you and you’ll let them in.”

“That is just so completely wrong, Y/N, I hate to break it to you.” It’s Harry rolling his eyes now, unable to move much more of his body as she continues painting on the concealer to remove his tattoos for the movie.

“Fine. Enlighten me on what I got wrong.”

Their argument had all but drowned out their music. They both did love this music and ironically if they would just shut their mouths, they’d probably like each other a lot more.

“Might as well,” he sighs. “First of all, my image is authentic and of course I don’t want to give myself all away. I enjoy my privacy and for everyone to truly know me I’d have to give that up. Which I’m not keen on. So, I regret to inform you but I am the same guy everyone is “in love with”. Second, I know I am a little self-involved, how else would I get here if I wasn’t constantly taking inventory of myself and reevaluating who I am. As a musician, I want to give as much of myself as possible or else it just feels inauthentic. And the extravagant thing, I can’t help that I like nice things and my job has allowed me to afford those things.”

He stops to take a deep breath and she’s working in stunned silence, in disbelief that Harry is even telling her any of this or that he’s spoken that much and so quickly. Wasn’t he notorious for speaking slowly with barely even a sentence worth of actual information. He sounds tired and frustrated, but also, surprisingly, sincere.

He continues, “The music thing. Maybe it was a test, but still it doesn’t mean I give everyone a mile when they say their favorite musicians match up with mine or something. I note that they either did their homework or might be an interesting person to get to know.”

“So which am I?” She widens her eyes.

“Obviously the second even if you’re also making it painfully clear that you don’t like me.”

“You’re smarter than I thought, Harry. I’ll give you that,” she smirks slyly, finishing up the bird coverage now.

He laughs. “Thanks,” he drawls out.

“And I admit that maybe you aren’t as easy to read as I made out, but I think we’re going to have to agree to disagree about the whole being your authentic self. I just don’t buy it. I can see your mind working constantly, you’re not one to just let yourself be free in public. And I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, I’m just saying, you shouldn’t pretend like that’s not what you’re doing.”

Her final thought leaves Harry silent. She pays no attention to his silence or at least she’s actively ignoring it. Instead she tunes back into the music that had gotten them back onto the wrong foot. This was going to be a long few months.

When she’s satisfied with her work, she has them sit there for thirty minutes to give it all time to set before Harry is off to hair and other makeup. They sit there listening to music. Neither of them have spoken again, except instructions from her and Harry’s hums of approval of songs.  

Harry stands up after thirty minutes as she stays behind to pack up some items. Just as he’s about to step out of the door, he turns and calls her name.

“For the record, I don’t think you’re giving me a fair shot. You said yourself that you’re different every day. That every version of you, is you. So I hope you’ll give me the same allowance, every version of me is me. In this trailer, in my music videos, on tv, in interviews, in my free time. It’s all truly me.”

She bites her inner cheek as he ducks his head and exits the trailer, not allowing her any response.

-

“You’re late!”

“Meeting ran over with Nick and Olivia. Sorry,” Harry says as he begins to undress.

It’s the first day she has to cover all of his tattoos. It was going to take forever by all accounts. It had been two weeks since shooting had begun and she had gotten the simple hands and neck down to 45 minutes so she could only dread what his entire body would take.

“It’s fine,” she grumbles, knowing there wasn’t really anything else she could say about him coming late from a meeting with the director and producer.

Over the last two weeks, they hadn’t grown any fonder of one another. Not at all. They at least had gotten into a system though and she was grateful for that at least.

They showed up, Harry got in his chair, she set up the music, and they got to work. Harry would practice lines on some days and he’d tell her that before she turned on the music so there were no interruptions. Sometimes they talked about stuff on set or music or she’d give Harry his line when he was trying to be off script and forgot one. She wouldn’t classify it as pleasant, but they weren’t at each other throats like they were originally.

Trailer 6 had gotten a little homier as the weeks went by, too. Harry began leaving some of his stuff there and he started putting up silly drawings he would make while on set or polaroids people had taken with him while he was there. He tacked up napkins of restaurants that catered the set and wrote funny jokes and quotes on post it notes. His personal assistants sometimes brought in snacks while Y/N was still working and Harry always offered her some. They were usually healthy, but sometimes she’d eat some. Jeff, his manager, had also stopped by on occasion during his tattoo touch-ups that had become a thing after shooting days had grown longer.

On first meeting, Jeff had said, “Y/N? Harry mentioned you.”

She had turned to Harry with an arched brow and he had shrugged. When she looked back at Jeff she didn’t see Harry give Jeff one of the deadliest looks he could muster. She had grimaced and said “Well we spend enough time together for him to know my name. So thank god for that at least.”

They had all laughed and she had gotten back to work on Harry’s wrist.

Today, she needed Harry in his shorts. It was the first day of shooting where his character would be only in his boxers so she had to cover up all his visible tattoos. Olivia had told the makeup department they actually had to cover up his feet tattoos as well. She wanted him sockless in the scene and Y/N had groaned immediately when she made it to the trailer and Harry wasn’t already there.

“But please, for the sake of my job, strip, dude.” She says, arms crossed over her chest and leaning against the counter as she watched Harry set his things down. Her soft green striped cardigan is open, exposing the white tank top sitting underneath. Her bright green shorts hang loose on her, cinched at the waist and folded over once. Her white high top nike’s tap impatiently on the floor, waiting for Harry to get moving.

He nodded, truly feeling sorry for his tardiness, knowing today was a long day. He was anxious and tired. Acting was a different experience to music and he just was really trying his best.

As he began to take off his shirt, he laughed. His arms pulled the shirt over his head and when it popped out from beneath it, he repeated, “Strip, dude,” attempting to mimic her American accent.

He had practiced his American accent in front of her while running lines, but it had a 50’s drawl to it. His acting coach had been drilling him for weeks before shooting and he still liked to practice. The accent he had just down was far off from that and far off from hers too.

“Do not,” she warned.

“What?” He asks innocently and flutters his eyelashes.

She knows his game by now and she knows she should just ignore him. She knows this after fourteen days. She knows this after hours with him. She knows this, but then she’s opening her mouth and playing into his teases.

“Sorry, what’s a word you would know? Mate?” She tries for a British accent with the last word, knowing she can’t win this.

Harry snickers and scratches at his nose with his index finger before starting on taking off his pants. “You’re so Californian.”

“Thank you,” she chirps, moving to sit beside him now that he had settled.

“I like your shorts,” he muses, crossing his legs, likely a little cold.

She glances down at her cotton shorts that showed more of her thighs when she sat for a moment before returning her gaze to his left arm. The longest task of the day was this damn arm.

“Thanks,” she mumbles, “Wanted to be comfortable today. Knew it was gonna be long.”

A smile bubbles onto his face, his pink lips parting to reveal his shiny white teeth behind them. “So true.”

The music is low today. She had chosen Joni Mitchel’s Blue album for the first pick of the day. She had quickly learned Harry preferred listening to albums in order. It tended to make him less jumpy when the same artist came on multiple times like an album. So when she tried to play just an album one day, she found him more cooperative and less irritable.

After thirty minutes of work, she can’t stop noticing how shivery Harry is. It was late October in LA, so it was still warm, but admittedly the mornings could be a little chilly. His shivering was concerning for many reasons. Mainly he was messing up her work and concentration, but she also didn’t want him to get sick or something.

“Do you want me to see if they have a blanket and slippers or something? You look like you’re turning blue.”

Harry turns his attention to her. He had been reading over the script for today again. “That’d be great. I can call…” He trails off trying to think of the name of one of his assistants, but apparently he’s too scatterbrained for it. She assumed it was the hypothermia traveling to his brain already.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll walkie someone.” She says as she grabs the walkie talkie, flicking to the personal assistants channel.

“Hey,” she chirps happily. Harry noted how she talked to other people. So sweet, yet sincere. With him, it was serious and sincere but more biting, callous at times. Less so lately, but she definitely was sharper with him. He didn’t know if it even bothered him anymore. She was engaging if nothing else.

“Is someone free to bring two blankets and men’s slippers over to Trailer 6? I’ve got a naked Jack and I don’t want him freezing before I’m done covering up his tattoos.” She takes her finger off the talking button and glances sideways at him, “Who knows, maybe that would improve his acting. Y’know on second-thought-”

“Alright, alright,” Harry tries to grab for the walkie talkie, but she turns from him holding a finger up signalling him to wait as she listens for a response.

Someone says a simple “On it” and she turns off the walkie talkie and gets back to work.

“I took my finger off the speaker before I said the thing about your acting. Relax, Harry.” She says when he’s still glaring at her. “Just love to see you squirm.”

He shakes out his short chestnut hair, some of it falling over his forehead. Instinctively, she reaches up without even looking and smooths it back. Like she was tucking her own hair out of her eyes, but instead it was Harry’s. She decided to say nothing and was relieved when Harry didn’t say anything either.

She finishes his forearm and moves to his outer upper arm. The rose holds her attention when the PA knocks on the door and she has to race to get it. Nothing could stop her from moving on this work. It was already an hour in and she wanted to scream.

She swings open the door and she wants to die. It was Autumn. Her least favorite PA, of course. She was insufferable and obsessed with Harry. Which was not why Y/N found Autumn insufferable. There were so many more reasons. So many. But that particular character flaw didn’t help her case either. Y/N tried to just take the blankets and slippers from Autumn, but the woman insisted that she come in.

“I’ve got it,” Y/N says.

“No, don’t want you to get makeup on anything,” Autumn’s saccharine voice grinds at her ears and she contemplates cutting them off.

Harry sat in his chair, legs crossed, nodding along to the music, his script discarded on the counter in front of him.

“Hi Harry!” Autumn practically yells, walking right up to him.

Y/N takes a deep breath at the door, letting it swing shut. She bites her lower lip as an attempt to bite her tongue as she walks back to her set-up. The set-up Autumn was conveniently blocking.

“Hello, Autumn,” Harry says kindly, making eye contact with her. “How’re you today?”

“So great! So great! Thanks for asking. How are you?” She points a finger at him like she might poke him and Harry squirms away from her a bit. She, of course, doesn’t notice this.

“Well, thanks.” His eyes flicker to Y/N, who is standing behind Autumn, hands on her hips and attempting not to tap her foot. His tone is clearly dismissive, but Autumn must ignore it. Y/N knows Autumn isn’t as helpless as she tries to come off.

Autumn asks, “Where do you want these?”, gesturing to the two blankets and slippers stacked on top.

“Just on the counter is fine, thanks,” Harry says.

Autumn does as he says and then stands there with baited breath. Y/N’s not sure what she’s expecting. For Harry to ask for her hand in marriage or something? But he just glances between the two women. His own foot begins wiggling in impatience.

“Busy day,” He attempts at dismissing her once again - with kindness.

“Oh my gosh, totally!” Autumn gushes, starting to go off on all of the tasks she has to do. She stands so close to Harry, Y/N genuinely thinks she’s going to sit in his lap. Y/N stares up to the ceiling, begging god or whoever to end her misery right there and then.

Harry sees Y/N’s expression and tries to maintain the neutral expression he’s had for the entirely too long interaction. A smile threatens at his rosey lips that had chapped from the morning air.

“Right, well,” he cuts off Autumn, “Y/N needs to get back to tattoo coverage, I think. So...have a nice day.”

Autumn’s eyes widen like she forgot that there was anyone else in the room and steps back from Harry. Y/N nods, a grimace clear on her face. Autumn gives her the same small she used to get from the popular girls in high school when she happened to be talking to their cool guy friend that they wanted to be more than friends with. Sickeningly sweet and completely fake. She could see the contempt in Autumn’s eyes that swirled just beneath the surface of her perfectly outlined green-ish eyes.

“Okay! You too, Harry!” She begins walking to the door and Y/N takes her seat again, closing her eyes and counting to ten. “And Y/N,” Autumn adds as an afterthought.

“Oh my fucking god,” Y/N sighs, her hands going to rub over her face and through her hair. “That was exhausting. Jesus Christ.”

“What? She’s nice. Maybe a little clueless,” Harry counters. “But she was so nice,” he confirms again, seemingly trying to convince himself of it as well.  

She grabs the slippers and slips them on the ground so Harry can put them on easily. Then one of the blankets that she drapes over Harry’s bottom half. He smiles at the gesture, a ‘thank you’ said in a whisper.

“Please, she knows what she’s doing,” Y/N scoffs, “And she’s obsessed with you!” She grabs the concealer to get back to work, “She was all over you and never took her eyes off of your body. It was like she wanted to touch you or something. It was icky.”

“You touch me,” Harry adds cheekily, adjusting beneath the warm blanket.

She laughs, a smile gracing her lips as she gives Harry a look. He was clever.

“It’s my job to touch you, Harry.”

Harry had really tried to not laugh, but it was just so funny. They both snicker, their eyes meeting for a moment longer than usual.

“Speaking of my job,” she adds after controlling her laughter, “Does she not realize just how long it takes to cover all of your bloody tattoos with this shit to make it look like you’re a pristine skinned 50’s psycho killer?”

She finishes the rose coverup and moves to the ship. Harry nods solemnly.

“It’s true...And it doesn’t help that you’re terrible at it, so it takes a thousand years longer than it should.” He adds, laughter overtaking his serious tone at the end.

“Oh my god!” She shrieks in delight, trying not to mess up her work, “That is so rude! I messed up one time - mostly because of you, by the way. And give me a break, this is so not what I thought I’d be doing as a makeup artist for movies.”

He nods again, muttering “Fair, fair.”

They grow silent, enjoying Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, the album that she had queued after Joni’s.

“The body thing, I just learned to ignore it, I think.” Harry mutters, eventually, but it’s thoughtless, like he’s not revealing anything about himself with the statement. But it kind of shocks her. Her eyes widen and she stops her work to stare at his face.

“Harry,” she waits till his eyes meet hers, “That’s, like, not normal. Are you serious?”

“I mean, I’m very comfortable with my body, like I haven’t minded the last 45 minutes of sitting practically nude in front of you. And I have plenty of revealing photos out in the world. I just don’t notice staring anymore, it’s not, I don’t think it’s what you’re thinking,” he tries to reassure her. His eyes are intent on hers, full of seriousness that hadn’t been there a few moments ago.

“It’s one thing to be comfortable in your skin and another to be desensitized to objectification,” she insists.

He nods. “I know. Thank you. I would let you know if what she had done had bothered me, so don’t worry. I felt completely safe the whole time.”

“Good,” she nods back and concentrates again. “Good,” she repeats once more under her breath. There had been way too many distractions already today and she wasn’t even done with his arm yet.

As she continues to work up his arm, Harry sings along to some of the songs on Elton’s album. He happily taps his feet to the different beats, now safely tucked in soft fluffy slippers. She would never admit just how amazing it is to be in the same room as Harry’s singing. It was truly special to be less than a foot from him and hear him sing just under the unique voice of Elton - who was someone he actually knew, which was equally as cool.

He hit every note and knew every word. She was impressed. How could she not be when a literal rockstar sat before her? This was the first time she was truly starstruck by her charge, Mr. Harry Styles.

By two hours, they had moved onto an album by Dolly Parton and they were both singing. They strangely had no fights today, maybe some snarky comments from both of them, but no outright mean-spirited words were exchanged.

She stood in front of Harry, finishing up the swallows. She had finished both arms and the birds, all she had left was moving down his body. Up next, the butterfly.

“I love this tattoo,” she mumbles, twisting Harry’s standing body to face her and taking her seat again. This left her eye to eye with the butterfly on his stomach.

He makes a surprised face and raises his recently plucked eyebrow at his counterpart. “Oh really?”

“Don’t act so surprised. I told you day one that not all of them are rubbish and honestly they’re all pretty cool. I just was so annoyed that I had gotten tattoo coverage as my job and then I had to go and index them all.” She flicks her eyes up to his sculpted face and sees he’s watching her work. “Plus, I have some butterflies of my own, remember?” She grins.

“Yeah,” he ponders her words, “I don’t think that’d put me in a good mood either.”

He pauses again and she continues to work silently.

“So what’s your excuse for the second day then?”

“You provoked me,” she doesn’t spare him a glance, shrugging like it was the simplest answer in the world.

“Pardon?”

“Let’s not go down this road again, Harry.” She sighs, smoothing over the freshly covered butterfly tattoo. His sternum looked so naked, it was unnerving. Now the ferns.

Harry involuntarily shivered when her fingers traced over the ferns lightly, taking note of the expanse of skin she’d have to cover.

“You’re right,” he agrees, “But agree to disagree on the provocation.”

“Sure,” she says curtly, focusing on his skin and her job.

The expanse of skin that the ferns inhabited was slightly fleshy and especially soft. It bordered where his boxers began and she ignored that part of his body completely. It was of no importance to her and she really had no issue blocking it from her vision, even when it was right in front of her. She finishes one fern with Harry jumping only twice from her cold hands. He couldn’t put his robe on until the makeup had all set for half an hour so he’d have to be cold for possibly another hour still.

She traces the fern that is still visible and Harry shivers. She instinctively shushes him softly and his body quiets. As she works, her hair splays around her shoulders and Harry looks down at her working and doesn’t realize what his hand is doing until it’s too late. His right hand runs over her hair, smoothing it out of her face. It was rarely ever down, so it must have been the novelty of it.

“Sorry, I-” he chokes out when he jerks his hand back.

She sits back, slightly taken aback. Her body flushes just from their positioning and what a hair caress would mean normally in this position, but she’s a professional and she shakes it off.

“It’s fine. We’re even.” She assures him, breaking eye contact with his own wide eyes. “Seems like we’re both hair touchers.”

“It’s just so soothing,” Harry muses. “I think it’s human instinct to touch other people’s hair since it’s so enjoyable for yourself.”

“Possibly,” her voice raises, his thought was definitely plausible. Or maybe they were just two touch starved people who were very much in each other’s personal space 24/7.

At the two and a half hour marker, she gets a walkie message from Olivia’s assistant asking when they’d be done. She had just finished the tiger tattoo, which had been surprisingly easy. It took a while, but Harry didn’t shiver once and neither of them pet each other’s hair.

“Probably 40 minutes, sorry. He has a lot of tattoos and the makeup needs to set.” She says seriously and gets back to work, barely regarding the response of “Yeah it’s fine, just wanted an estimate”.

“Jesus,” Harry moans as she covers up his knee tattoos.

She groans in veiled disgust, “Did I just hit a secret erogenous zone? Is that why you have ‘oui’ there, you creep?” There’s a teasing tone behind the nickname she uses.

Harry laughs and runs his hand over his face, pulling at his jaw and lower lip. His jaw is so sharp, she watches him adjust it. “No, no. I’m just so goddamn tired of this.”

“And it’s not your fault,” he adds, feeling bad immediately after he said it. “It’s actually been nice today, but I’m feeling antsy, like I need to move. I don’t like to sit still.”

“I know,” she says under her breath. She simply nods in agreement.

Finally, the tattoos are all covered up and set. They had talked about George Michael when she got to his ankle tattoos that she hadn’t seen before and they laugh about the tattoos and chat a bit more. She helps him slip on his robe that he keeps in his closet in the trailer and then follows him out of it. They had decided they were hungry and he had been pushed back an hour since he had taken so long, so he had a free half-hour.

As they walked to craft services, they talked about actual things besides work. She was pleasantly surprised by what Harry talked about. It was more than music or the movie. It was the tv show he was currently obsessed with and how he hated LA’s traffic the most out of all of his dislikes for the city. She couldn’t help but grin at his Los Angeles slander. She loved this side of him.

-

Breakfast together after finishing his tattoo coverage became their regular thing. He would come into the trailer, racing from his morning meeting accompanied with tea for two, they’d get his tattoos covered as quickly as possible, and then they’d eat together.

They’d save their “in-depth” chats for breakfast. In early November, he joked about No Nut November and insisted he really wouldn’t have a problem with it - which had made her laugh. They worried together over the U.S. presidential election and meditated together in his trailer to Fleetwood Mac.

Around late November, Harry had requested that Y/N just do his face makeup as well, just to simplify his life a little more and the department had agreed easily. She had to spend extra time on set getting lectured on how to properly do Harry’s makeup, but after two days she stopped getting notes about it. She was so extremely proud and thankful to Harry for doing that.

All he said was: “I mean, you’re extremely talented so I’m not scared of you fucking up my face. Plus, it does make my life easier. Two birds with one stone.”

In late November, he told her about his favorite holiday drinks at Starbucks and what he was getting his mother for Christmas.

When the Vogue cover came out, he laughed over that woman who responded to his cover saying the world needed to bring back manly men. He joked that he was going to really push that from now on, that he was a manly man, and he would sputter with laughter every time he tried to say it with a straight face.

He hand delivered her a special ‘Treat People With Kindness’ sweatshirt that he only had for the cast and crew of the film. Most everyone got them from a PA, but Harry decided since you saw him first in the morning, why not.

He told her about him winning Hitmaker of the Year from Variety when he had left the award sitting in Trailer 6 and about how weird it was to film acceptance speeches in an empty room. His smile had lit up the entire set that day and the day he did his interview on set. He was so smiley she had to bump him with her elbow because he wouldn’t stop smiling at her and it was unnerving.

“Stop that,” She muttered.

“Stop what?” He smiles wider.

“That!” She squeaked, her head shaking as she ducked it to regard his anchor tattoo. “You’re smiling too much.”

“Oh no,” he says sarcastically, “God forbid I be happy.”

“It’s not that,” she bumps his thigh with her elbow, trying to keep her own smile off her face, “Your face is just so intense when you smile. Feels like you’re gonna burn a hole through me.”

He laughs, completely unconvinced, “You just don’t want me to be happy is what I’m hearing.”

She rolls her eyes, “Whatever, dude.”

She saw he was serious about the ‘manly men’ references when the Variety photos came out and everyone and their mom posted the pictures with some variation of that comment as their caption.

She still found that she rolled her eyes at some of the things Harry did, but she genuinely counted him as a friend by the time December had rolled around.

Over three hours, almost always completely alone, doing work for a job you both care deeply about can really make or break a relationship. And that first full-body coverage day had made them stronger together. After that, Harry and her would banter with one another, but there was never anything intentionally cruel. Just friends giving each other shit sometimes. Harry had been right, he had changed her mind about him. And she had realized that that was who Harry was. He was a deliverer. If you didn’t like him at first, he would try and try again until you did, but he did it in a way that wasn’t weasley or anything. It was terribly genuine and she saw it in every relationship he had on set.

On several occasions she had witnessed his friendship with Nick Kroll. A man she had regarded with dislike before the film. She had quickly realized that dislike was misplaced, but she maintained that it was just because she hated adult cartoons - citing that she literally refused to be friends with any person who willingly watched the Simpsons, Family Guy, and/or American Dad and all of those similar shows.

Nick was far nicer and less weird than she had realized. So she quickly shot her friend from high school an apology text for all the Nick Kroll slander she had spouted back in the day. Her friend had rejoiced but also said how jealous she was that Y/N got to see him regularly on set.

Nick and Harry got along great. Harry generally got along better with older people, she noticed when she was introduced to his friends on the somewhat frequent occasion. Trailer 6 was where Y/N saw most of these reactions take place. She would be introduced in the first minute and then she would smile politely and get back to the work of covering up Harry’s numerous tattoos.

Harry would say something simple and Nick, the literal famous comedian, would laugh. In the beginning she’d raise a brow, confused because it truly wasn’t that funny, but as Harry’s friend now, she kept her mouth shut.

Nick would come and sit on the couch while she’d work and eventually all three of them would chat. Sometimes she would get up to go to the bathroom during those morning chats and she would look in the mirror and think to herself “How are you casually talking to these two men right now” and then she’d think “Because you are a boss ass bitch, you got this” and go back out there with a smile on her face.

“Y/N, what are you doing tonight?” Nick asked on the first Friday morning of December.

She looks up from Harry’s cross tattoo that was half covered. Harry was reading, a book casually propped in his right hand and glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. He glanced at the other two in the room. Nick had been getting some work done before he had spoken.

“No plans,” she states simply before getting back to work. It wasn’t full body today, but it was arms and torso, so kind of a lot still.

“You should come over for dinner at my place with Harry,” Nick smiles kindly. His scruff was really coming in today. “To celebrate us almost wrapping the first half of the movie.”

Harry had thankfully freshly shaved before he sat down. It was her least favorite part of her new job. Whenever he came in for touch ups and she had to shave his afternoon shadow. She was terrified she’d cut him and never live it down from her department or Harry. She had no idea which would be worse.

“My wife will be there too, of course,” he adds, hoping to entice her to say yes.

Harry glances between Y/N and Nick again before focusing on his book again.

She purses her lips, finishing Harry’s hand and moving onto the anchor tattoo. “Yeah, I mean, I don’t know why I’d say no. As long as I’m not intruding on the throuple,” she grins up at Harry.

He stares at her with his big green eyes, slightly obscured behind his prescription glasses. He raises his brows and wiggles them a little bit, teasingly.

Nick laughs and slyly winks at Harry through the mirror. Y/N none the wiser as she removes all traces of Harry’s tattoos.

“Great!” He claps his hands and stands up. “We’ll talk or I’ll make sure Harry gets you the info or something. I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out. My wife’s been wanting to meet you,” he smiles again and walks out of the trailer.

She tilts her head at the last part. He talked about her to his wife. Did he really count her as that close of a friend? She was just a makeup artist and he was a producer… She glances at Harry and he gives away nothing. His jaw looks extra prominent and she knows it’s because he’s clenching it. He did that when he was focused or angry, remembering it bulging on the first day they met and how clenched it had been then.

“Unclench your jaw,” she mutters, “It’s not good for you.”

Harry hums and unclenches it.

He stretches his neck by rolling his head around his shoulders and she glances at the movement. His skin is still beautifully sun-kissed and his pores look so soft, only his moles change the texture of his skin. She loves his moles though, they make him especially unique in her eyes. Not that he needed anything else to set him apart from the crowd. Still, she loved them. His collarbone is prominent as he sits there shirtless and she wishes she could reach out and brush at it. But she gets back to work, knowing the only time she’s gonna be brushing near that part of him is when she’s covering dates in those dips behind his collarbones.

“Y’know, I could just drive you to Nick’s tonight,” Harry says, putting his book down and taking off his glasses. He rubs at his eye with his free hand.

“You’re blind and British, how do I know you can even drive yourself?” She asks sillily, pointing to his glasses.

He shakes his head, “I’m serious, Y/N. Aren’t you staying in the same area as me?”

He asks because they had relocated to Palm Springs a little while ago and everyone had gotten rentals and it was hard to remember where everyone was holed up when they weren’t on set.

“Yeah, think so. But you don’t need to pick me up. I have a car.”

“Nonsense. I’ve been to his place before, don’t want you to have to deal with directions, that’s just silly.”

“I guess...” she resigns relatively easily. She had never hung out with Harry off the set or Nick for that matter. It felt surreal, but she knew the right answer was usually just say yes in these situations. So that’s what she says. “Yes, that’d be great, thank you,” she confirms and watches as Harry’s eyes glimmer softly before turning back to his book. A triumphant soft smirk rests on his face.

The words die out between the two of them as she works on. He hums along to the music and continues reading his book. When she’s done with his tattoo coverage and his face makeup, she sends him off to hair and the rest of his day. He gives a flirty wink as he walks out the door and she rolls her eyes in response. She tidies up her kit and then goes to do some other makeup work.

When she wasn’t working with Harry, she was assigned to some of the minor characters and doing their makeup. They were always her second concern, especially now that she did Harry’s makeup as well as his tattoos. As she works on them, she can feel her mind drifting to Harry. Harry and how they were friends now. She was pretty sure, right? They were friends. He had never really said a mean thing to her if she really thought about it. It was her… She had been rude and mean-spirited and he had just taken it. He rarely had even thrown it back at her. He was so good to her and patient and she realized that he had proven to her that he was good. He was better than good, he was kind and loving. Considerate. Wonderful. All of those positive superlatives, Harry filled them. And she had the audacity to be mean to him.

She paused the brush that was adding blush to an actresses cheek.

Lisa, the actress, looks at Y/N confusedly, “What’s wrong?”

Y/N twitches her head, refocusing on her task at hand. The realization of her pausing her work becomes clear as she looks between her hand and the cheek that has not enough blush on it. “Oh,” she breathes. “...I just realized that I was terrible to someone who doesn’t have a mean bone in their body.”

Lisa nods, “Apologize.”

“Yeah, I mean...We’ve kind of moved past the phase where we don’t get along. Like now we’re friends, but the realization just really hit me.” She sighs, picking up where she left off on Lisa’s makeup. “I’ll make sure to apologize next time I see them.”

Lisa smiles.

-

At the end of the day, Y/N realizes she left her tattoo coverage kit in Harry’s room after their touch-up session halfway through the day. She had run off to help with a makeup emergency for a tiny cut on a minor character’s face and forgotten to go back and grab her things. Another roll of her eyes and a huff of breath and then she’s walking back to Trailer 6, a place that seemed like a home away from home now. She knocks, patiently waiting at the bottom of the steps.

Harry swings open the door and props it with his hip. He’s got a toothbrush held in his mouth, slowly scrubbing back and forth with his left hand. His costume is somewhat taken off, he’s still got the pants on with suspenders hanging down, his chest was completely bare and he looked funny with some of his tattoos only being half covered based on what parts of his skin had been showing today. Her work. His skin looked half silky smooth and half tattooed like usual.

His naked skin seemingly left her breathless because as her eyes returned to Harry’s face, she breathed a soft, “Hi.”

“Hey,” a smirk twists onto his face. “Forget something?”

“Yes,” she nods, coming back to her senses and entering the trailer at Harry’s gesture.

She begins to pack up the kit that had been left haphazardly strewn around on his counter. “I’m sorry I left a mess like this, I got called over to something else and forgot.”

“Don’t worry darling,” Harry grins at his joke.

She looks up from her work and sees Harry in the reflection of the mirror. He’s wiping off the makeup from his chest and his beautiful tattoos reemerge as entire images.

She laughs humorlessly, “It gets less funny each time you use that.”

“That’s not true,” he looks at her through the mirror now, his green eyes trained on her face, “Everyone else still thinks it’s hilarious.”

“They’re humoring you and your fragile ego,” she winks and watches as Harry’s smirk twitches from his perfect face.

“You’ve got a very mean disposition, you know that?” He asks.

He finishes his chest and moves to remove the makeup from his left arm, glancing at the mirror every so often to check himself and to flicker his eyes over Y/N’s face.

She genuinely laughs at that, but scolds herself internally for being mean when she had planned to apologize the next time she saw Harry. This was the next time so why was she doing this instead?

“Rewrite sweet disposition for me?” Her voice honeyed. Clearly stubborn and terrible at saying sorry...maybe her and Harry were a better match than she realized.

Harry twists his lips as he slips on his t-shirt he was wearing today.

“Pick you up at 6:30?” He says as his head pops out from beneath the rainbow striped sweatshirt he slipped on top of the shirt. His chestnut hair had been toweled out and was flopping over his forehead slightly.

She sighs and zips close the kit, standing from the seat she had taken at his counter and turning to face him now.

“6:30 is perfect. Thanks again for doing this. I just can’t believe Nick Kroll is inviting me over for dinner!” She smiles, shifting to lean against the counter as she waits for Harry to finish up. She didn’t have to but for some reason she felt like she was in no rush.

“Are you serious?” He’s moved on to changing his pants now and he’s slipping on black sweatpants.

“Yeah…” She blinks and her eyes widen as Harry appraises her expression.

He straightens up after fixing a cuff on the pants and he can’t tell if she’s being genuine or sarcastic. It was always so hard to tell with her.

“I mean, Nick Kroll is like a huge celebrity and I know in the entertainment business you’re not supposed to get starstruck but when I was in college my sister thought he was weirdly hot and my friends and I would shit talk him. I don’t know, it’s just kind of surreal to be having dinner at his place. Like I’ve watched him on tv and now I’ll be eating with him...so weird.”

He shakes his head, beginning on his dirty vans now. A small laugh escapes his mouth and he glances between her and his shoe, scratching his head quickly. “I still can’t tell… It feels like you’re fucking with me right now.”

“I’m not!” She insists, her hands coming out in front of her in a confused fashion. “I used to watch that guy’s tv show then he’s my boss now he’s inviting me over for food? It’s a lot to process.”

“How come it’s not surreal to be having dinner with me then?” He asks semi-joking, a hint of offense tinged within it. It’s visible only in his knitted brow and twisted lip.

“Careful there, sailor. Venturing into some dangerously self-absorbed waters.” Her eyes light up, a quick raise of her brows accompany the shine, and she decides now is her time to head out. Especially as she thinks about getting ready for this soiree tonight. She needed to shower and pick out an outfit with less than two hours to prepare.

Harry sputters at her response and fumbles with his pink shoelace. “That’s not...that is - You’re being unfair. My question is valid.”

She shrugs her shoulders and skirts Harry’s attempt at grabbing at her arm to stop her from leaving. “Okay, Mr. Big Man On Campus. I promise you you’re the most popular boy in school.”

She blows him a kiss and walks out the door as he attempts to get her to come back by calling her name a few times and slightly shouting “C’mon! I wasn’t being insecure. That was a reasonable ask…”

He sighs and shakes his head again. Every interaction would end with one of them either rolling their eyes or shaking their head and usually a sigh on both of their lips. It was exhausting, but exhilarating too.

20 minutes later, Harry receives a text from Y/N: “You’re still picking me up right :))) ?”

He’s in his car, getting ready to finally leave after getting held up with last minute schedule changes that he had to be informed about by some PA that he had forgotten the name of. His lip quirks to the right and he closes his eyes for a second enjoying seeing her name on his phone screen for a moment.

He types back: “Of courseeee”.

“Fab.” She sends back, immediately followed by: “Fanks BMOC ;)”

A full smile rolls onto Harry’s face after he swipes his tongue over his lower lip. “Yeah, yeah, save it for the next guy” he types out quickly before throwing his phone gently beside him and driving back to his apartment. She made him feel young, not that he wasn’t young, but generally his friends didn’t text like she did.

-

At 6:28, she receives a text from Harry Styles - his name in her phone. A name she had never expected to see in her phone unless her Spotify was on shuffle. Yet, instead, his name popped up under messages and it read “Here!” followed by a quick “I think” and then a phone call coming through from the apparently anxious man himself.

“Hello Harry.” Her tone even. She throws little items into her purse, making sure everything she needs is there.

“Could you peek out your window? I’m not quite sure I’m at the right place and people are staring…” nerves laced in his rushed tone.

She ambles to the window and opens up the shade she had closed to change. Below her, she sees a sleek black Range Rover with a slightly disarrayed hairdo and big dark glasses peeking below the windshield. She ignored the instinct to retch at the sight of the Range Rover and peered at the lamp lit sight below her. It was definitely Harry, but she searched for the prying eyes he was worried about and saw none. Well, maybe a few, but it wasn’t a lot.

“I see you, I’ll be right out, dude. Just deep breaths, it’s mostly crew staying here right now so they’re just seeing that it’s you, another guy they work with. They won’t come up for pictures...I would hope.”

She hangs up with no farewell, snatches her purse from its place on the bed and races out the door. Harry smiles anxiously at her when she stands next to the passenger’s door and he unlocks it. She bites her lip and raises her brows, waiting to hear if anything terrible happened in the minute and a half it took her to come downstairs and out to the car.

“Hi,” he exhales.

A smirk crawls onto her features and her eyes sparkle with a bit of a childish glee that normally she didn’t exhibit as she glances at him. “Hi.” She says quietly. “Alright big boy?”

“‘M fine.” He huffs but balks at her smile that she maintains while she stares at him. “What?”

“Just happy to see you, I guess,” her smile returns after speaking and Harry glances between her face and the windshield in front of him.

He can’t tell if she’s being serious or not once again. But he fears that conversation of her either ridiculing him for thinking she is serious or being offended that he still can’t tell. Instead, he will keep his mouth shut. For the most part.

“Happy to see you, too,” his lips create a closed mouth smile quickly before turning out of the parking lot.

She watches him. Their first time together outside of work. And they were friends. She needed to get used to simply thinking that. He picked her up to take her to dinner with her other friend and his wife. This was normal life, just with big names behind those terms of relation. Jesus, she always said it didn’t bother her to be around celebrities so why did she think about it so damn much?

She twitches her head and refocuses on Harry and his driving. His jaw is clenched again and she wants to reach out and sooth it herself. Instead she starts to open her mouth to correct him, but stops herself from that as well. They weren’t at work and it didn’t feel like something just a friend would say right now. She refocuses on the view of his eyes that are barely visible while he regards the road. His large eyes that she had grown acquainted to are surveying what he’s doing, every so often drifting to the right side of the road to check out the lane beside him. But then, always back to right in front of him, leaving a crescent of green visible to her.

“Can feel you staring at me…” His voice sounds like it’s rolled around in gravel after the long work day. It makes her wonder if he’s supposed to have a vocal rest when he’s not at work, but then again it’s the weekend now so maybe it was fine. Maybe she should ask him. Or maybe she should stop worrying so much about him.

“Have I got something on my face?” His low register bumps her from her racing thoughts. He doesn’t take his eyes off the road, but she can see he’s widened his eyes in wonder.

“No! Of course not, I just was...making sure you weren’t going to crash us or something.” She grasps at straws, desperate to not be caught by Harry.

A low chuckle bubbles from his chest and he spares a small glance over at her bundled up in his passenger seat. She matches his gaze with something of distrust hidden behind her eyes. She hopes to convey that she’s being silly and when Harry turns back to look at the road unassumingly, she feels like she has won. The harmonies of the beginning of a Queen song take over the silence, Harry’s spindly fingers thrumming against the wheel.

They arrive at the Kroll’s Palm Springs residence at 6:50. 10 minutes early and the two twiddle their thumbs for a few minutes, trying to pass the time and not intrude earlier than they were supposed to. She appreciated that Harry liked to be timely but not early, similar to how she was.

“So what is the fascination with Range Rovers?” She queries, leaning against the door’s armrest. The back of her head touches against the semi-tinted window.

Harry shifts in his seat, seat belt no longer constricting him and no road requiring his attention as they sit in the driveway. He rushes a hand through his hair and lets a single strand of hair fall over his prominent forehead.

“Dunno,” he shrugs his shoulders and allows a hand to fall onto the steering wheel absentmindedly. “I don’t really prefer them anymore, but when I’m in LA and doing work, it makes things easier. My other cars are a little flashier...have more privacy in this.”

“Yet the effect is similar,” she muses.

Her head tilts to take in Harry’s appearance, sharp black silky button-up and dark green plaid slacks, and she rubs a hand over her jaw. His eyes flicker to the movement and attempt to really take it in, even in the dim glow of the lamp light outside barely peeking into the dark interior of the car.

“Effect?”

“Y’know…” She arches her brow at him. He feigns innocence or possibly the expression is genuine. She’s begun to realize Harry was as genuine as they came, but she just didn’t think he was that unaware. An assumption that was likely correct, but even Harry liked to pretend he was a completely unassuming individual.

“Forget it,” she finishes when he gives no indication that he knows what she is hinting at. She doesn’t want to get into it with him again. Especially when he plays at this game where he has no idea what she’s talking about. It made her feel like she was crazy for thinking he made these calculated decisions to get his desired outcomes.

They move on, neither of them quite sure what the other was getting at in that conversation. The two of them walk into the house a minute before their expected arrival time side by side and are greeted happily with Nick and his wife. They’re ushered in and Y/N is happily received by the happy couple.  

“So, Y/N, how’s it been for you working with these two? I know they can be more than a handful - especially together,” Nick’s wife, Lily, asks after a sip of wine.

The group of four had been eating for a while with Nick and Harry bantering for quite a bit at the beginning about whether or not Harry would be willing to hand feed Nick. The answer was settled at “another time”.  

Harry seems to have a very specific habit of watching whoever is speaking - no matter what. So after Lily has finished speaking, his gaze flickers to Y/N, the person his brain expects to speak next. He watches her attentively as she wipes her mouth on her napkin before speaking.

Her hair was styled differently tonight than it usually was on set, she had it down rather than up in a ponytail or braids. He hadn’t had time to really look at her when they had been in the car, his mind occupied with stress and exhaustion that he refocused into driving and deep breathing. Now, in the comfort of a trusted friend’s home, he was far more relaxed and able to truly take in her appearance, which he couldn’t help but think was beautiful. He’d have to tell her that at some point. That he thought she was beautiful. Not that he didn’t see her on set and think she was beautiful...he just hadn’t really thought about it before. She was his wily makeup artist who was critical of him most times, but occasionally sweet, who had an amazing taste in music and good aesthetic style. The beauty part of it all, he guessed wasn’t something integral to their relationship before.

But now he was sitting beside her at the Kroll’s nice dining table and she had her hair splayed in front and behind her shoulders with one side tucked behind her ear and her outfit fit her impeccably. The top she had on had capped sleeves that cinched with buttons at her delicate wrists and a severe drop to create a small sweetheart neckline just above the curve of her breasts. It was silky and shiny, a blush pink that complemented the high waisted dark grey slacks that flared over shiny black boots that he wasn’t sure where they ended beneath the pants.

“Well,” she starts, chuckling under her breath when she meets Harry’s stare, “Harry and I spend a lot of time together, covering up all his tattoos, and he yaps a lot. So, it’s actually pretty refreshing when Nick comes in, because Harry’s then talking half the normal amount.”

He huffs a scoff, while Lily and Nick laugh happily. Nick interjects an “ouch” for the bite she just took out of Harry, but she thought it was fine, he can take it.

Harry thought to himself that if she can serve it, then she can definitely take it. His eyes remain on her as he opens his mouth to speak, but then look at Lily when words actually come out. “Well, Y/N, she thinks she can read people really well, but it’s actually quite the opposite. She had me completely wrong when we first met, so I talk now in hopes that she’ll really understand me.”

His head tilts to her when he mentions her name, but otherwise doesn’t glance her way away again. He scrunches his nose at the end of his comment, implying he converses with her out of pity.

It’s her turn to scoff and stare at him unamused. Nick and Lily share a look, unsure of what was going on, they had concocted this dinner date idea in hopes to set the two up but the way this conversation was going, they seemed to be pushing each other further and further away from one another.

“That’s simply not true,” she says curtly and takes a sip of her quickly emptying wine glass.

“Which part?”

“Almost all of it, I’d say,” her eyes glaring back at him, fiery with a disdain he hadn’t seen in awhile. “You’re proving my original perception of you with every passing second,” she adds.

“Care to elaborate exactly what the original perception of me was for the class,” his eyes are wide and wild, any extra adoration he had started to feel towards her slipping away just as quickly as it had come, like a wave along the beach.

“You know, so why don’t you?”

“I want to hear you say it,” he grits out the command.

She shifts in her seat, glancing at Nick and Lily who are watching on and she has a feeling she won’t be getting an invitation again anytime soon. Lily gives her a semi-reassuring smile like she was sorry to have asked the question at all, but Y/N knows this is kind of her fault, not that she would ever admit that. Her comment could have been taken innocuously, but Harry’s pride wouldn’t let it slide. Like she said, she should have known better, the weeks of friendship were flying out the window and she was helping them along.

“And what if I don’t?”

“Have fun calling an uber at this time of night,” he shrugs, malice dripping in his tone.

She truly was taken aback at this. A slight sound of shock leaving her mouth. Harry was many things, impatient and anxious usually, but downright cruel with her, she had yet to see it. Arrogant and pompous, definitely, but this wickedness that was starting to creep from the shadows worried her. But the little fiery demon within her wasn’t going anywhere either - yet she might back down to save herself some money and hassle.

“Fine,” she raises her brows in a challenge to him and restates her original take on him - possibly adding a bit extra malice in her phrasing, “You are a shell of a man, held up by the people around you, creating the illusion of a completely genuine and down to earth rocker who dabbles in acting, philanthropy and all around goodness. No one’s ever had a bad experience because no one’s ever truly met you. Not the real you.” She takes a deep breath as she shakes her head in disbelief now, a sarcastic laugh leaving her mouth, “And I thought, I really thought, that I had been wrong. Because these past months you really fooled me with your sweet smile and deep eyes. But when it comes down to it, you tricked me just like everyone else.”

Harry stares at her blankly and she shakes her head once more, feeling foolish. For thinking Harry was someone he wasn’t. For thinking the past few months had been real. For thinking that tonight would go off without a hitch. And the shit part of it was that she had really hoped that all of it was true. She wanted this to be her life, but her instincts had been right. Beware of the picture perfect because it always is just a mirage of deceit and lies.

“All I’ve got to say is you’re a damn good actor Harry, so at least you’ve got that going for you.” Then she pushes back from the table and stands, turning to Nick and Lily. “I really am so sorry, I understand that you probably want me to leave, so I’ll just be going,” her voice faltering at the end, she wasn’t as strong as she liked to pretend and she was pretty sure she just ruined her chances of working again in Hollywood. You’d have to be an idiot to be an enemy of Harry Styles and she feels like she just became his first.

“No!” Nick says quickly, standing too, “I think things just escalated really quickly and some things were said that both of you didn’t mean. Um...just, let’s take a few minutes to cool off. Harry could you and Lily deal with the dishes and I’m going to talk with Y/N alone.”

Everyone nods and Y/N follows Nick down a hallway, a little confused but following after he beckons her with his hand. They go out a side door and end up on a porch in the backyard. He stoops down and opens a little sitting mailbox she didn’t see and pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He places one between his teeth and then offers one to her. She accepts, not usually a regular smoker, but right now seemed like a fair time to indulge in the bad habit. She needed to calm her rapidly beating heart.

He lights the cigarette for her when he sees her shaking hands and then in turn lights his own. They stand on the porch beside each other and stare out into the dark night sky.

“Well, this wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go,” Nick starts, after a few exhales of smoke.

“No,” she laughs nervously, her foot toeing at the wooden slate on the porch. “I shouldn’t have tried to make a joke.”

“No one’s to blame,” Nick says quickly, glancing at her, “You and Harry...you both have really strong personalities and I don’t think either of you are used to being challenged.”

She nods along, she definitely had to agree after the argument they had both willingly gotten into in front of other people.

“I think that can be a really good thing, challenging each other, because then you two can both grow. But what happened in there was more of a battle to the death rather than a friendly spar.”

“Yeah,” she exhales, flicking at the burning cigarette between her fingers, “I don’t know why he gets under my skin sometimes in a way I’ve never dealt with and it’s kind of uncomfortable so I lash out, I guess.”

Nick stays quiet, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“Ugh,” she groans, “I wish I hadn’t done that. We were doing so well, it’s like I don’t even really know what I’m saying, it’s like I can’t handle a friendly spar, I always end up going in for the kill - as you put it.”

She rubs at her face with her free hand and then takes a drag herself. Nick bites at his lower lip, trying to think of a solution.

“Y’know? Lily and I had concocted this plan to try and set you and Harry up tonight,” he says slowly, revealing the plan that had clearly been taken off the table as they just needed to attempt to salvage cordiality.

“Really?!” She’s in complete disbelief and slight dismay that the plan was seemingly ruined.

“Well,” he sputters, “When the two of you aren’t throwing verbal fireballs at each other, you’re actually quite sweet to one another. Those fond little glances you hope no one sees, well he does that too, and you both fail miserably because I see it all the time. I’m sure plenty of people do too.”

“Oh,” she states, visibly deflating. She looks to the ashtray conveniently on a table behind her and presses out the rest of the cigarette. “Should probably talk to him, huh?”

Nick nods, stamping out his nub of a cigarette as well. They go back inside and into the kitchen where Lily and Harry have plated dessert. Harry looks a little sheepish, likely having a similar conversation with Lily and she wouldn’t be surprised if her expression looks similar, if not a bit more flushed from the outdoor chill.

Lily murmurs that she and Nick are going to eat their dessert in the living room, a fair bit away from the kitchen and the two now deflated counterparts nod and then stare at each other, knowing what they need to do.

“Can we talk?” Harry rasps out, his voice even lower as he speaks softly, a mere foot away from her in the kitchen.

She nods, but moves further from him to lean against the counter and tuck her hands behind her. She’s lost her appetite and doesn’t want Harry to see her shaking digits.

He’s ducked his head and a stray curl falls over his forehead, laying there softly. He doesn’t move to fix it, just stares at his feet until she begins to talk. He can’t not look at her face when she speaks.

“So…” She slowly starts, not enjoying the tension in the room. Her eyes can’t meet his though, his stare dark and unnerving like usual, but almost painfully so now. “I can start.” She kicks at the tiling on the floor like she had done outside as well, trying to not think about the eyes trained on her right now. “I’m sorry I lashed out on you, Harry. I didn’t mean what I said, it was just a heat of the moment response.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Harry says immediately once she finishes speaking, “I shouldn’t have gotten upset over a silly joke and brought up a sensitive subject. Then it escalated…”

“Yeah, I really liked the friendship we’ve garnered these past few months and I just can’t believe I almost ruined everything - including my career…” she squeaks at the end and tears start to roll from her eyes. “Oh god,” she is hit with the gravity of all that she almost ruined as Harry stares at her again. “I’m so sorry, Harry, I really am. Do you forgive me? I don’t think I could stand it if you didn’t.”

She stands there and feels sobs wrack through her and her hands go to cover her face out of embarrassment. She had caused a scene and now she was making another one. In front of Harry.

In an instant his arms are wrapped around her frame and he’s hushing her cries. They had never hugged before, but now seemed like as good a time as ever. His arms were strong around her and she pressed her face into his chest, not caring at all about how she looked or whether this was worse than getting in a fight and running off.

“Of course I forgive you,” he says and then begins repeating her name over and over, trying to soothe her. He definitely had been hurt by her words, but it seemed like she was more upset about the whole situation than he was and he didn’t think bringing up what specifically had hurt him would help her frame of mind.

She settles after some time, her whimpers and tears subsiding after being rocked into a more peaceful mindset with the help of Harry’s calming voice and reassuring embrace.

“I really am sorry,” she whispers again.

Harry pulls his neck back and his head off the top of her head to look at her face. It was tear stained and her eyes were glassy, lips slightly puffy. He gave her a soft tight-lipped smile. “No more apologies,” he states sternly and then softens again at the slight quiver in her lip. He pulls from her a little more, leaving her at arm's length, with his hands still attached to her hips, fingers slipping over the plaid fabric. “I meant to tell you this earlier, before things…” he stares at her face again and she holds it this time, “You look beautiful tonight.”

She scoffs and her eyes immediately drop to her feet, “Definitely not anymore.” She doesn’t believe Harry.

“‘M serious,” he insists. His right index finger goes to rest beneath her chin and brings her face up to look back at him.

“Sure,” she says, still not convinced but not sure how else to respond. She feels herself warming at all the positive attention he’s pouring into her.

His gaze won’t falter from her face, he’s intent upon making her understand him. He whispers her name, “Accept the compliment.”

“You’re stubborn,” she notes.

“So are you,” he counters quickly.  

“Fine, thank you,” she sighs when he won’t stop giving her that look of his. That look that makes her want to melt into the ground because it feels like she’s the only person in the world. “Though you looked especially good tonight, too,” she adds, her hands rubbing over his shoulders softly.

“Thank you,” Harry states lowly, the words only traveling to her ears. His hands fiddle with the sides of her top, thinking about the night and where they were now. Her eyes were red from crying and overall she looked tired beyond her years. “Do you want me to take you home?”

“That’d be nice.”

They make a quiet farewell to Nick and Lily, as well as apologies from both her and Harry. They don’t speak in the car and the music plays loud enough for it to not seem unreasonable for them to be silent. Harry’s hands don’t tap against the steering wheel, they sit in their spots stoically doing their job and nothing more. She watches the window, legs crossed and hands clasped in her lap. She’s thankful for the music because she knows that even though they had talked, it wasn’t enough. What she had said was hurtful and one apology wasn’t enough for how she had behaved. She didn’t think her and Harry would be the same after tonight, but the silence made it possible for her to pretend none of it had happened.

Just as Harry’s car is pulling up the apartment complex that is far darker now, the harsh splatter of rain begins to fall on the pavement and the sleek black car the two are still sat in.

“Oh,” she comments offhandedly, just responding to what she had noticed.

The rain grows louder when Harry parks and then turns off the car. He glances at her for the first time since they got into the car. She registers the look out of the corner of her eye, her face still looking out at the rain. She loved the rain, but there wasn’t always a lot in Southern California, especially not in Palm Springs. It seemed that tonight was different.

“Well,” Harry breaks his silence, she thinks that’s her cue to leave and unbuckles her seatbelt, but he continues. “This certainly wasn’t how I expected this night to go.”

She stops moving, her hand hovering over the handle of the door. She sits back and settles into the seat, feeling her teeth bite into the plush of her bottom lip.

“That’s what people keep saying,” her eyes remain on the rain hitting the front of the car, the splatters of seemingly black liquid that form when the clear rain touches the onyx hood of the car.

“Huh?” Harry grows perplexed at the rather wistful tone of her and how she won’t look at him again. He was still hurt, but he had hoped them talking in the kitchen had straightened some things out. During the car ride he hadn’t wanted to talk, but it didn’t mean he was still angry with her. Just confused, and growing further confused by the second.

“Oh,” she repeats, “Didn’t Lily say? Her and Nick concocted that dinner in hopes to set us up.”

Harry hums, knowing that because Nick had left out a little part of that plan. That he had been a part of it. He had been talking with Nick about getting to know her better outside of work and how Nick had thought it’d be a good idea to have dinner so he had told Lily and they set it up like a casual dinner party. Harry didn’t know how to respond because her knowing that he was in on the plan might just make matters worse. He really didn’t think things could get much worse, but it seemed that they always managed to make it happen so in the end he decided to keep his mouth shut.

“I don’t know if we’d ever be able to work out differences out for that,” she decides to continue, when Harry stays quiet. She scans the interior of the car and watches Harry for the briefest moment before going back to looking out the window. “Nick said that we challenge each other to grow, but all I see us do is hurt each other.”

Her voice is just above the rain pattering outside the car and Harry thinks it sounds almost melodic if it weren’t for the sadness laced in every word.

“I disagree,” he states before wetting his lips.

“Of course you do,” she laughs in spite of herself.

“Even after all these months together and you still don’t get it. I like you.”

“You don’t like me, I don’t know how you could ever like me,” she shakes her head. “We just...we get under each other’s skin. You can make me so angry sometimes and I know I make you angry too. And when we’re not angry, we’re focussed on something that doesn’t have to do with ourselves.”

“I don’t think what you feel for me is anger,” Harry insists, “Just because something feels burning and fiery, frustrating even, doesn’t mean it’s anger.”

His body shifts closer to the center divide and she turns to face him finally. His eyes are extra dark in this lighting, which is barely there from a streetlamp a ways off. She longs for the comfort of his light green eyes, the soft pale glow of the moss that seems to have been trapped within his iris. Maybe for that reason she unknowingly leans closer to him.

“Then what is it?” She whispers, eyes blinking slowly as her breathing grows strained.

“Passion.”

Immediately, her head is tilting to meet his lips. Her mind knows one thing, she needs to be kissing Harry right now. And then she is. His left hand goes to cup her cheek as his lips attach themselves to hers. His soft lips press to hers in a long searing kiss. They stay there for a moment, pressing all of that passion and frustration into the kiss.

She presses impatiently forward, her lips starting to move more, wanting to kiss him deeper. Harry obliges, parting his lips and kissing her more vigorously. He licks into her open mouth and smiles at the sound she makes in appreciation for his actions.

She’s shifted to have herself kneeling on the leather seat and she’s leaning over the console. One of her hands finds purchase on Harry’s thigh and grasps tightly, her other at the back of his neck, pressing him closer if it were possible.

His chest is pressing against hers as he pulls her closer. He kisses her and his fingertips rub softly at the apple of her cheek. Eventually they run behind the shell of her ear and trail down her neck.

Eventually, she pulls away and stares at Harry. She watches as his eyes flutter open gently. His soft eyelashes dust his cheeks before moving away, allowing his eyes to peer at her in the dark.

Her breathing feels a little irregular after the kissing and she’s sure she is heaving her chest slightly, likely mirroring Harry’s chest as well.

“So, where to now?” She inquires, lips quirked up at her suggestion.

Harry giggles and scratches his nose against his index finger.

-

Harry doesn’t stay the night, he walks her up to her apartment door though. He kisses her chastley in front of her door and wraps an arm around her waist as he does so. He bids her a goodnight and a promise of seeing her soon.

They don’t see each other for a month. Both of them had been so blissful after the endorphins of kissing their person that they had forgotten that filming had wrapped. They weren’t set to work for a month. Harry texted her the next morning informing her that he’d be in England until filming resumed. She was still going to be in California, filming was moving back to Los Angeles, so she’d be back in her place there. Her family knew she was working, so they had sent her presents ahead to her place instead. Angie, her only true friend in the area, was spending her time with her actual family and Y/N didn’t want to intrude.

So the holidays were going to be spent alone. Those four weeks alone passed surprisingly quickly. She practiced techniques on herself, bought a tiny Christmas tree like the one in A Charlie Brown Christmas, watched A Charlie Brown Christmas and just about every other holiday movie possible. She fell in love with young Hugh Grant and Colin Firth for the thousandth time. She sang carols to herself and decorated her place with decorations from Target. She jammed out to the new Miley Cyrus album and held dance parties for herself in the house. She baked cookies and even attempted a trifle after watching a Great British Bake Off episode. She did and she did all in hopes that her mind wouldn’t wander to the guy who hadn’t called.

Harry texted occasionally, but it was infrequent at best. He was a busy person, she knew that. She knew who he was. And she didn’t want her mind to have enough time to feel sorry for herself. For her to think that she was just somebody to pass the time with while at work, because if she stopped doing things that’s where her mind would wander. Why did her mind spiral like it did? She had no idea, she’d always been like that.

His absence, their separation, made her question if her own feelings were even true. She wondered if when she saw him he would act as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t said their relationship was passionate and she had kissed him until she couldn’t breath.

Too much time alone, she needed some fresh air. On January 2nd, after an uneventful night at home and a lackluster countdown washed down with cheap champagne, she decided to go and walk around near her place. There was a coffee shop that wasn’t extremely expensive that she also liked that she figured she would get coffee from. After a brisk walk, she walked through the store's doors and ordered an iced green tea. As she waited, she watched the other customers around her, wishing to see a friendly face, someone she knew. And seconds later, she was met with half of that wish. Someone she knew, not necessarily a friendly face.

“Autumn.” She states with a grimace when someone taps her on the shoulder and she spins around.

“Y/N? It is you!” Autumn, one of the PA’s from Don’t Worry Darling who was especially in Harry’s business, exclaims overly happy as per usual.

Y/N bites the inside of her cheek and gives a tight lipped smile, trying her best to be cordial.

“How’s your holiday been!” Autumn asks.

“Great. You?”

“So great!” She’s quick to lean closer and say in a hushed tone, “But I miss working on set, especially getting to see that Harry everyday. He’s just so gorgeous.”

A breath gets stuck in Y/N’s chest at the mention of Harry’s name. Her brows can’t help but raise a bit at Autumn’s comment. Even lowering her voice didn’t make it feel alright to talk about Harry like this. He was her friend after all.

“Sure.” Y/N nods abruptly, realizing Autumn wants some recognition of what she’s just said. Y/N’s eyes glance around the room, hoping for an out like her drink is ready or something - no such luck.

“I mean,” Autumn keeps talking, of course, “You’re so lucky. You get to see him shirtless, like what? Everyday practically? Don’t tell me you don’t miss that just a little bit!”

“I miss working,” Y/N says, avoiding what Autumn is trying to get her to say. “And Harry’s my friend, could you maybe not talk about him like that with me?”

Autumn’s eyes widened in shock, her lips parted dumbfounded by her co-worker's response. Y/N’s name is called for her drink and she’s thankful for the serendipitous nature of that sound getting her out of the awkward situation she had just been in.

When she gets back to her apartment, she surprisingly has a text from Harry himself. She’s always telling everyone; speak of the devil and he will appear, in one way or another. It’s a Happy New Year well wish followed by a separate text asking how she was.

It was sent a minute ago so she decides to try and give him a call. She preferred talking on the phone over texting.

It rings a few times and then, again surprisingly, he picks up.  

“‘Lo?” His voice is nice and deep and sounding extra British after his weeks surrounded by family and such.

“Harry,” she sighs contentedly.

“Happy to hear your voice,” he says her name and she can tell he’s smiling just like she is, from ear to ear.

She bites at her lip, hearing him say her name.

“I’m well, thanks,” she says after a moment of happy silence.

“What?” Harry laughs, confused.

“You texted asking me how I was and I called to respond.”

“Got it,” Harry chuckles, and she hears him shuffling around, likely sitting down on something.

“How are you?” She continues.

“Good, starting to wind down for the day,” he lists off the things he’s been doing over the past few days. Some of it work related, some of it family activities. All of it fun, he insists. “What did you do today?” He finishes, knowing she was an avid activity doer based off of the snaps she had sent him over the past few weeks.

“Tidied my place, went to the coffee shop and got iced tea…” she tries to think and then she gasps, “Oh! And I saw Autumn, one of the Don’t Worry Darling PA’s -”

“The one who’s obsessed with me?”

“Exactly!” She laughs, “And I may have kind of told her off… accidentally.”

“Accidentally told her off?” Harry repeats, incredulous. “How’d you do that?”

“Well,” she doesn’t want to tell him the rest, but there’s also a tiny part of her that really does, “She was gushing about you, which, ew. And then she asked if I missed seeing you shirtless everyday.”

“Well do you miss seeing me shirtless?” Harry smirks.

“Oh shut up!” She’s quick to reply.

“So you do?”

“If I really wanted to see you shirtless, all I’d have to do is type in “Harry Styles sh” and it would come up,” she rolls her eyes even though she knows he can’t see them. “Wouldn’t even need the whole word. Guaranteed.”

“Uh-huh?” Harry questions still, “If you want me to send you shirtless pictures that the rest of the world hasn’t seen, Y/N, all you have to do is ask.”

“I do not want you to send me shirtless pictures of yourself!” She exclaims. She feels like jumping out of a window right now. This conversation had escalated so quickly and she felt herself flushing, maybe even perspiring a little bit. And she also knew that she also would probably like it if he sent her shirtless pictures, which made this whole thing worse.

“Offer stands,” he says, smug as he normally was, happy he got to banter with her again. It had been dull without her, if he was honest with himself. “If you ever find yourself in need, just send a cheeky text and I’ll whip one out for you, no matter where I am or what I’m doing.”

“See this sounds like you’re saying something sincere, but really you’re just telling me you’ll send me nudes at any time.”

“No one said anything about nudes!”

“Shirtless, nude, sounds like you’re getting too caught up in the details, hon.”

“No!” He protests, “You’re the one who’s supposed to be flustered right now, not me!”

“Aww, you’re flustered,” She coos.

Harry groans. “Whatever. I’ll be back on the 8th, be ready to go out on the 9th. I’m taking you on a proper date.”

“How do you know I’m going to say yes?” She bite her lip again, she’s really sweating now. She couldn’t believe he had just asked her out on a date out of nowhere. Out of them just joking about nudes. Maybe she didn’t know Harry as well as she thought.

“Because you called me,” he says confidently.

“I call everyone.”

“But I don’t offer shirtless pictures to everyone.”

“That has nothing to do with me saying yes to this date.”

“Or does it?”

She laughs at his words, at how his voice still manages to convey every facial expression and quirk of his lips. She knows there’s a smile on his lips as he stares in the distance, imagining her face just as she is his.

“Yes.” She smiles.

“Yes!” He repeats happily.

She hears him stand up and spin around possibly and she chuckles slightly, amused at the silly man across the world who had seemed to have stolen her heart.

“See you soon, Harry.”

“Not soon enough.”

-

On the Saturday of their date, Harry insists on picking her up. He meets her at her door and winks at her after pulling away from their short hug. He laces his hand in hers and she follows behind him as he all but drags her to his car that is downstairs. He seems giddy. His hair has grown out in the month he’s been gone and she knows they’ll cut it when filming resumes. He’s wearing Gucci flared blue jeans - she knows from the big logo on the bottom left pant leg - a ‘Waiting for Sunset’ graphic tee beneath a black cardigan with little animals and items knitted in it. And of course, his dirty ass vans. She had hoped that maybe Christmas would bring him a fresh pair from someone, but it seemed there was no such luck.

Either way, he looked good and upon scanning his outfit, she was pleased that she had dressed correctly for the occasion, knowing one of the sins of Los Angeles was being improperly dressed wherever you might go. Harry had said casual, but casual can always mean so many different things. She got it right with light wash high-waisted levi’s, a brown cream rib-knit long sleeve that buttoned like it could be a cardigan, and some fun chunky boots that added some height to her normal stature. She had contemplated between this and possibly twenty other tops and a few other bottoms. Landing on this felt right, plus it didn’t clash with Harry, the color of her shoes actually matched the color of the snake on the cardigan.

They both compliment each other on the way out to his car and she giggles when he stops and twirls her around. He says he didn’t get a “proper look” before for him to compliment her adequately. After the twirl, he nods and starts them off again, complimenting the specific pieces of her clothes and says she looks beautiful again. His giddiness was contagious.

“No Range tonight,” she muses when Harry stops them in front of a Mercedes-Benz cream convertible, top up.

“Not working,” he replies, unlocking the car with the key into the passenger’s side door handle.

She smiles and slides into the car and watches him jog around to his side and unlock it as well.

“Tonight is going to be fantastic,” he says, leaning over the console and kissing her cheek, just beside her lips.

And when he pulls away with that smug smile of his, she knows he kissed her there on purpose. But the little tease only makes her smile more. He was good at this. And he was right.

The night was fantastic. As was every night after. And she learned that Harry was so much more than anything she ever thought. She counted herself lucky to be loved by a man like him.

[babyboibucky]

Kinda Like It When You Lie

Pairing: Destroyer!Chris x Reader

Summary: You discover the reason why Chris has been lying to you about his whereabouts.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: le smut, le angst, le toxicity but a sorta happy ending I guess???

A/N: I tagged everyone in my Everything Bucky tag list because why not lmfao okay but no, I’m not sure how often I will be writing fics for Seb’s other characters so I won’t be having a separate tag list for that yet. If this isn’t something you’re not interested in, feel free to ignore skskks

I am dedicating this piece to @lookiamtrying​ who got so pissed off that her mans Chris got a lower vote count than Mickey (prior to the release of Monday) when I did my character fic survey lmfao ilysm, Mina!!! This was also inspired by FLETCHER’s If You’re Gonna Lie

MAIN MASTERLIST

Chris kissed you as if it was his last day on earth. It made your insides twist in a blissful way, the kind of kiss that literally took your breath away and made your head spin. You could feel your lungs burning up from the lack of oxygen and yet you didn’t want to pull away.

All you could focus on was how his lips moved against yours, how his tongue danced around your mouth as if he owned you. And in that moment, he really did.

You got lost in Chris— his taste, his rough palms against the smooth expanse of your skin, his weight on top of you as he pressed you down against the cheap motel bed.

It wasn’t until you tried to touch Chris that you realized he had restrained your wrists with something cold and hard. Pulling away from his fervent kiss, you glanced up and saw that he had both of your wrists handcuffed against the headboard.

Tugging at your wrists, you let out a chuckle. “What’re ya, a cop?” you asked.

Chris breathed out through his nose, “Kinda.” he rasped out before taking your bottom lip in between his teeth, tugging at it before sliding his tongue back into your mouth.

You moaned into the kiss and opened up your legs to fully accommodate Chris’ huge build, his pelvis thrusting against your clothed core making you whine against his lips.

“You gonna arrest me or somethin’?” you asked playfully, tilting your neck to the side as you allowed Chris to nip at your skin, his thick beard scratching you much to your delight.

He pulled back to look at your eyes, “Only for stealin’ my heart, darling.”

-

What you thought was a one-night stand turned into something more. Not that you were complaining, in fact, you’d quickly fallen head over heels for Chris. How could you not when he was the most honest man you’d met in your entire life?

After that first night, Chris told you everything about him and his job. An FBI agent who needed to go undercover as a drug dealer in order to infiltrate a huge drug syndicate. He had been undercover for a while now and it was consuming, he said. That’s how you found him drinking alone at the bar you worked at.

“You planning to consume our entire stock of beers or what?”

Chris let out a breathy chuckle as you placed two more bottles of beer on his table. The man had been in the bar for hours now, drowning his miseries away since his arrival. You noticed him as soon as he sauntered into the bar— all beard and tattooed muscles on display with the denim vest he wore.

“I’m sorry.” he huffed out and you were surprised at how soft spoken he was despite his tough exterior. “Work’s been stressing me out, is all.” He explained with a firm smile.

You couldn’t help but return the gesture, “Thought you were stressin’ over your girl.” You smirked.

Chris narrowed his eyes at you, tongue darting out to lick his lower lip. “Got no girl to come home to.” He said, voice an octave lower and a little bit rougher.

You bit your lip and shrugged, “Man like you can easily find a solution to that.” You said and winked before heading back behind the bar, swaying your hips a little more than the usual.

By the time you reached the bar, you looked back at Chris and caught him staring with a certain look in his eyes.

The same look he would give you whenever you get mad at him for coming home late. The look that always won you over no matter what.

-

“You said you’d be home by eight, Chris. That was four hours ago.”

Chris rubbed his face and dropped his keys on the tray by the front door. You watched him with suspecting eyes as he trudged towards you, eyes tired yet apologetic.

“‘m sorry, sweetheart. Went out with the guys, you know how it is.” he said and tried to reach out to you but you were quick to step back.

“Could’ve texted me, y’know? I made dinner, your favorite. Got cold and decided to throw it in the bin when you didn’t show up.” you said, shaking your head in disappointment and turned around to retreat back into the bedroom.

Chris caught you and gripped your waist in his strong hands, preventing you from further walking away. He pulled your back against his chest, nuzzling his face into your neck as he whispered apologies into your ear.

“I’m sorry, babe. Let me make it up to you, huh?” he murmured roughly into your ear. “Wanna make you feel good, make you forget my sins.” he teased, earning a soft chuckle from you.

He sucked the skin beneath your earlobe, making your knees weak and your core throb. Chris gently turned you around to face him until your eyes met his-- dark and still apologetic, you wondered why because you’d already forgiven him the moment his hands touched your skin.

Your question was immediately forgotten when Chris kissed you, tongue quickly finding its way into your mouth. His kisses were always so urgent, so hungry and feral.

He always kissed you as if it was the last time.

Clothes strewn everywhere, raspy grunts and high pitched moans, sweaty bodies moving against each other. Every single time you and Chris argued, it always ended the same way, with you giving in to his sweet words and hot touches.

A hand on your nape kept your cheek pressed down onto the mattress as Chris pounded you from behind. Laying flat on your stomach, you could feel every ridge and every vein of his cock as it dragged against your walls. Gripping the sheets tightly, your knuckles turned white as you slightly lifted your ass up earning a harsh spank from Chris.

“You fuckin’ like it when I fuck you rough?” he growled, spanking your ass again before squeezing it into his large hand.

You whimpered at the cold sensation of the rings on Chris’ fingers, wanting it to mark your skin as soon as he was done with you. You moaned when Chris pulled back until only the tip of his hard cock remained in your tight pussy. Tears gathered in the corner of your eyes when he pushed your nape further into the mattress at the same time he slammed back in with such force that made you elicit a sound akin to a wail.

“Right there, Chris!” you wantonly pleaded, your drool soaking the sheets beneath you.

“I got you, baby. Gonna fuck you so good you’d forget what you were mad about.”

And forget you did, not just once, not twice. Not even thrice. Every single time Chris came home to you smelling like someone else’s perfume when he claimed to be out with his friends, you always ended up willingly forgetting about it. Chris had you wrapped around his finger and you knew it.

You knew he was lying about his whereabouts and the thing was, you chose to believe in it.

Because with each lie that slipped past his lips, came the sweetest apology followed by a promise to make you feel good and Chris always delivered.

You’d rather hear Chris’ lies than to hear his goodbye just so you can have him in your bed again and again and again.

-

The last lie you tolerated was when he forgot about your anniversary and came home the next day, all moody and grumpy. He went straight to the bathroom, mumbling about how he was tired from work and you didn’t know whether he was lying again or not.

You’d believed too many of his lies by now that you couldn’t even determine which ones were the truth and which ones weren’t.

“Happy anniversary to us, Chris. In case you forgot.” you said as soon as he got out of the shower.

Chris’ face fell, eyes refusing to meet yours from shame. He should be ashamed and so should you, because you’ve tolerated his lies for a year now and no matter how much you wanted to confront him, you always ended up forgiving him.

“Fuck.” he cursed. “I’m sorry, it’s just that...the buy bust operation was last night and it slipped my mind.” he said.

And there it was again, the look in his eyes that turned you into a moaning mess beneath him as soon as his lips found yours. Whenever Chris would lie, it always seemed to be so fucking worth it. Because he always fucked you senseless until you were stupid for him, enough to let him get away with his pathetic excuses.

But not tonight, because as Chris bent you in half with his cock slipping in and out of your wet cunt, you promised that this will be the last time you’d enjoy the aftermath of his lies.

“Come on, baby. Give me one more. Want this pussy to milk my cock dry, c’mon pretty girl.” he urged, slipping a hand in between your sweaty bodies, his thumb swiping at your clit until stars exploded behind your eyes.

His name was chanted out like a prayer, your lips red and swollen from being kissed and bitten. A few more hard thrusts and you felt Chris spill his seed into you, warm ropes of his cum painting your walls. He carefully slipped your legs off from his shoulders before laying down on top of you, pressing open-mouthed kisses on your chest as the both of you caught on your breaths.

“Where were you last night?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Chris turned his head to you, trying to read your face but you kept your gaze on the ceiling. Tears escaped your eyes as you laid on the bed, blinking them away when they wouldn’t stop spilling.

“I want the truth, Chris.” you added, wiping your tears with the back of your hand.

The bed moved when Chris sat up, reaching for your face and turning it to wards him. Your lips were trembling, fighting back your sob. Chris closed his eyes and shook his head.

“I’m sorry.” he said.

“I don’t want your apology, Chris. I want the truth, please.” you begged.

“I can’t stay with you anymore.” he said.

You frowned and sat up, bringing the sheets up to cover your naked body. “Who’s she?” you asked. “I know you’ve been seein’ someone behind my back, I want to know. Who is she? ‘nother FBI agent? Or someone you met while you were undercover?” you were more of mad than hurt now, all your suppressed emotions finally resurfacing and begging to be released.

Chris swallowed and refused to meet your gaze, “It’s...it’s not like that.” he said.

“The fuck you mean, Chris?” you asked.

There was silence for a brief moment, as if Chris was gathering up all the courage he had left in him. And then he looked at you with the same guilty, apologetic eyes again. But it was different now because you knew that there wouldn’t be anymore lies which meant no more sweet talk and no more Chris in your bed until the next morning.

“I never cheated on you.” he huffed out. “I’ve always been...with Erin.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You were a part of my undercover. The leader of the drug syndicate I was trying to infiltrate frequented the bar you worked at. Needed to get as much as information as I can and I easily got that when we started—”

Your hand trembled after landing a solid slap on Chris’ face. Your heart ached, your vision spun and suddenly, nothing made any sense to you anymore. All this time, you thought that was Chris was being unfaithful to you when in truth, he was cheating…with you.

Now you finally understood why he always kissed you as if it was the last time, why he looked at you with those apologetic eyes whenever he came home late, whenever he lied.

Chris told you the entire truth, that he was at the bar during an operation and not after. He manipulated you into believing that everything he told you were real, that he was a good and an honest man, that Erin was nothing but a partner at work.

“When you said you love me, was that a lie too?” you asked, voice breaking because this was too much. Everything was too much.

Chris held your face in between his hands, rubbing his thumbs across your cheeks, “No. No, that wasn’t a lie. I do, I love you. As soon as the operation was done, I couldn’t say goodbye. I always said I’d tell you the truth but I couldn’t. I wish I hadn’t met you like this.” he reassured.

You pushed him away and covered your face with your hands, unable to believe that for an entire year, you’d dedicated your life and your love to someone who had been using you.

“Does she know about me?” you asked.

Chris nodded, “She does.”

You scoffed, “She fuckin’ pities me, doesn’t she? Probably told you to take your time, ‘cause the truth will fuckin’ ruin me.” you said and chuckled bitterly.

“You used me, Chris. Fuckin’ used me and made me a goddamn fool. Is Chris even your real name? Who the fuck are you?” you asked.

“I lied about everything except for two things. My name and when I said I love you.”

You shook your head, wiping away your tears. You’ve finally woken up, brought yourself back to consciousness and decided to accept that Chris was never honest and that not once did he become yours.

“Liar.”

-

Picking up the pieces of your broken trust was very much like working with the shards of a broken mirror. At times you came out unscathed but for the most part, you were left wounded and bleeding and in pain.

Putting all the broken pieces back together was definitely not easy and it took you years to do so. No matter how careful you were though, the mirror was never completed. There were ugly cracks and everywhere that you couldn’t hide and there was a missing piece. But that’s alright, because you tried to put yourself back together and you weren’t perfect but at least you did your best.

The bar you started working for was quite new, which explained how busy it was even on a slow Wednesday. It wasn’t as big as the old bar you used to work at, but this was newer and catered to a more classy crowd.

No rough bikers, no FBI agents going undercover, no funny businesses.

“Two bottles of beer for table seven.” your manager called out, “Thought it’d be slow today, boy was I wrong.” she commented to which you chuckled.

Taking out two ice-cold bottles from the fridge, you weaved through the crowd and tables until you reached your destination. Placing the bottles on top of the table, you asked the customer if he wanted to order something to go with his drinks.

Taking out your notepad, you finally looked up and was met with a pair of familiar blue eyes. You almost didn’t recognize Chris if it weren’t for those eyes. He was no longer sporting a buzz cut and had longer locks, his beard had grown out but was well-trimmed. His tattooed arms weren’t in full display and instead of the usual denim outfits he wore, he was merely clad in a plaid, maroon button down shirt.

“Hi.”

You couldn’t help but scoff, “Let me guess, you’re undercover and your target is a frequent customer here.” you said.

Chris laughed mirthlessly and shook his head, “I quit from that job years ago.” he said, much to your surprise.

“You stressin’ over your girl?” you asked.

“Got no girl to come home to...anymore.” Chris replied, those damn apologetic eyes making your knees weak once again.

You rolled your eyes at him and placed your notepad back in your apron, “If you’ve nothin’ else to order, then enjoy your beer. I guess.” you said and turned around but was quickly tugged back when Chris grabbed at your wrist.

Scowling at him, you eyed his hand and then back up at his eyes. They didn’t look apologetic though, you realized, he was giving you the same look but something was different.

You just didn’t know what changed.

“I did love you.” he said. “And I still do and I want to come home to you again.” he quickly added, tightening his grip around your wrist as if he was afraid to let you go.

Surprisingly, there was not an ounce of anger left in your heart. It had been a complete three years since the incident. He left you feeling used and broken but you managed to fix yourself. Not completely, but enough to find it in your heart to forgive Chris for what he did.

“I want to believe you, I really do. But it’s hard for me to do that now.” you explained.

Chris nodded in understanding, “I know but I want to start over again. Make things right, if you’d let me. No lies this time, just me and my truth.” he said, his thumb rubbing soft circles against the inside of your wrist.

Honesty. Pure and genuine honesty— that’s what changed in the way Chris looked at you. There wasn’t any guilt in there anymore, no hidden agendas and whatnot.

Just the truth and the missing piece you never knew you needed to complete your mirror.

-

Everything Bucky Tag List:

@ddowii @jessou893 @stealapizzamyheart @bagelofthelord @mxnt @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky @ohladymacbeth @wildflowergubler @supraveng @twinerd14 @buckysmar @bakugouswh0r3 @sweetcoldharmony @wintersfilm @charminivy @amelia-song-pond @iamvalentinaconstanza @mcubqrnes @im-squished @tcc-gizmachine @sipsteacasually @prettyintopeerpressure​ @weloveyasmin @est19xxshit @bloodhon3yx @dressed-in-prada​ @lizette50​ @thatfangirl42​ @sunflowerbunny2​ @unmagically​ @okiegirl24​ @sugarpunch-princess​ @enlyume​ @vvipgotbb @slimeyderp​ @lyoongx​ @just-deka​ @nobody-will​ @jaziona92 @elisebuitron​ @dpaccione​ @suvikamahes98blr​ @buckybarneshairpullingkink​ @earthtonav @x-judyjude-x​ @nani-kenobi @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @belladonnabarnes​ @iloveangstposts​ @weenersoldierr​ @asemistablehundredyearoldman​ @reidbuck​ @lizzarooni​ @girlfriday007​ @bonkywobble​ @lost-in-the-stars03​ @its-yasbxtch​ @whoth3hellisbucky​

[winter-soldier-vibes]

I wasn’t there

Bucky x reader

Word count: 2510

Warnings: self harm/self harm scars, little bit of angst, mostly comfort, tears

Summary: Reader self harms and Bucky sees her scars one day on a mission by accident. He feels guilty and wants to help her as much as he can now that he knows. 

Based on the quotes: "Show me your scars, I want to see how many times you needed me and I wasn't there"

A/N: Thank you SO MUCH to the anon who sent this in! Not going to lie I was bawling writing this, I love it so much. This deals with heavy topics and mental health so as always, if you feel that reading this will be harmful to your journey in any way, please feel free to skip it. As always, I am here to talk about anything you guys may need. 

A/N 2: Ok there’s a part at the end that I don’t think is technically canon but it’s rumored and has been talked about before in regards to some of Bucky’s scarring on his left arm. I know it’s not a confirmed canon thing but it honestly works so well and I believe it’s true, please don’t come at me for that. <3

Tags: @buckys2thicc @thatfangirl42 @mardema @stucky-on-spiderman @barnesplums @peggycarter-steverogers @abitgryffindorky @buckfics  @freigeistundanderes  

Main Masterlist 

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

You trudged back to your room in the compound, exhaustion taking over your body. You had just gotten back from a mission that had taken the life out of you, more so than any others on the team. You had the power to control elements, but whenever you did it drained the energy out of you. At one point you had been surrounded, forcing you to lift the ground around you to knock everyone back. 

It was more than you had ever done at once, and nearly made you pass out. 

You were able to finish the mission, but you were absolutely exhausted, the worried eyes of Steve, Bucky, Bruce, and Natasha looking over at you. Nat was flying the quinjet, but still glanced back at you from time to time. Bruce was there mainly for medical help, as there wasn’t need for a code green. Steve was just Steve, being worried about you as your Captain. And as the friend of your boyfriend.

Bucky meanwhile would not leave your side. He was concerned, even after Bruce had determined you were nothing more than completely exhausted. He insisted on you lying down and him staying next to you. It was nice to know that he cared about you so much, he would do anything to protect you.

Which is what made your heart ache when you saw his face drop when you had said you were fine, and walked off to your room when you had arrived home.

It wasn’t that you wanted to be around him, not at all. It was just that you wanted to take a shower and wash the sweat and grime off of you, and you didn’t want him to see. Not yet, you hadn’t told him yet.

When you closed the door to your room, you peeled off your uniform, exposing your skin littered with scars varying in depth and age. You turned the water on and leaned against the countertop as you took in yourself. 

God, you hated them. 

You had struggled with self harm for a while now, but it was better than it had been before. It had been really bad before you had started dating Bucky. It’s not like it magically went away when you did, not at all, but just being around him made it easier. Him telling you how much he loved you, spending time with you, you helping him feel more secure. You weren’t alone in your head as much, 

He helped and he didn’t even know it. 

You traced your fingers over the most recent ones on your wrist from a few days ago. They had scabbed over by now, but the memory was still fresh in your mind. It was a panic attack in the middle of the night, and you didn’t want to wake anyone. You knew this would help you and it did. It grounded you back to the moment, calming you down as you focused on the stinging sensation rather than the panic. 

You looked down at all the other marks you had made. Most of them were on your thighs, because they were the easiest to hide. It was easier to wear pants in the summer than long sleeves. But you were running out of room, moving to your arms instead, trying to stay away from your wrists. But a few days ago you couldn’t even think about it through your panic attack. Sometimes you couldn’t think about it, being so overwhelmed that you weren’t quite aware of what you were doing until you saw the blood.

 You remembered making every single one of them. They all had a story, a reason. And all of them were different. 

You wanted to tell Bucky, you knew you would have to eventually. The two of you had avoided intimacy up until now, and slept in different rooms unless either of you was having a rough night and asked the other to stay. It wasn’t that you didn't want to be intimate with him, you had been together for months. But you had to tell him about this first

And you couldn’t find a way to quite yet.

You just couldn’t find the right time or words. You didn’t want to scare him off, and you didn’t want him to look at you in the sad, concerned way that people usually do with this sort of thing. You didn’t want to put this on him. And you for sure didn’t want him to blame himself.

You sighed, tearing your gaze from the mirror. You stepped into the shower, letting the warm water wash over you. You stood there like that for a few minutes before you moved to wash your body, taking your time. You had no plans tonight other than going to sleep. 

Bucky had watched you walk slowly back into the tower, wanting to follow you but also wanting to respect your boundaries and space. You were exhausted, but he wanted nothing more than to comfort you the entire night. But you didn’t want him too, and he wanted to respect that.

Still, it broke his heart to watch you limp away. He felt helpless. 

He couldn’t help but wonder if something was wrong with you. The way that the two of you had been together for as long as you had without some form of intimacy. He was patient, he would never want to push you, but he wondered why. Whenever the two of you had a conversation you had seemed to stiffen slightly and get uncomfortable. 

He never pressed it. Just dropped it and hugged you, telling you it was fine to wait. 

But the more time passed, the more helpless he felt. He felt like you were hiding something from it. He just wished he knew what it was so he could better help you. But in a way he understood. Everything that he had gone through - forcing someone to open up usually unintentionally makes them shut down. 

Even so, as he went back to his room he couldn’t stop thinking of you. He took his own quick shower, putting on sweats and a T-shirt before he came to check on you. He just wanted to make sure you were alright.

You had gotten out of the shower yourself, slowly drying yourself off before going back to your dresser to find something comfortable to wear. It was brutally hot and you were exhausted, pulling on a tank top and shorts. You were about to go back to lie down when you heard a soft knock on the door.

You sighed in frustration, closing your eyes for a moment. “Yeh, just a minute,” you said, exhausted, grabbing a pair of sweatpants and a loose sweatshirt to pull over yourself. You walked over to the door and opened it slightly, giving the man in front of you a tired smile.

“Hey Bucky.”

Bucky’s face softened, a small smile spreading on his face. “Hey doll. I - I know you said you wanted some time to yourself but I just wanted to check on you.”

You smirked at him slightly. “I’m just about the same as when we walked off the quinjet Bucky.” You shrugged, tugging your sleeves down - nervous habit. “I’ll be fine, I’m just really tired.”

Bucky looked you up and down quickly. “You sure?”

You hesitated a moment longer than you should’ve, quickly bringing yourself out of it. “Yeah.”

“You don’t sound sure,” he said gently. “Can I stay with you tonight?”

“Look I’m fine, I just want to go to sleep. I’m exhausted.”

“Please? Let me take care of you, it’s been a long day,” he said.

“You don’t have to Bucky,” you started, shaking your head lightly.

“I want to,” he assured you.

Sighing, you opened the door more to let him in. it wasn’t that you didn’t want him to stay, you did in a way. You always slept better with him there. You just really wanted to take off the sweats. But that would mean having a conversation that you weren’t ready for.

Sweat was better than tears.

You climbed into bed and Bucky laid down beside you, wrapping his arm around you. He kissed the temple of your head as you relaxed back against his chest. “Try to get some rest sweetheart.”

You hummed, already feeling exhaustion overtake you as you closed your eyes, drifting off to sleep faster than you ever had.

-----------

You woke the next morning feeling much better than the night before. You shifted slightly, feeling Bucky’s arms still around you. 

“Good morning sleeping beauty.”

“What? What time is it?” you asked sleepily.

Bucky chuckled behind you. “It is almost noon.”

Your eyes widened as you started to sit up. “What? I slept that long? How long have you been awake, I’m sorry -”

“Hey, sweetheart, don’t worry about it. I've been awake for a while but it’s no problem. You needed the rest and I’m glad you got it.”

You hummed again in acknowledgement, reaching your hands up to rub your eyes. What you hadn’t realized was that while you were asleep, your sleeves had ridden up slightly. You never had to worry about your wrists because you had never gone down that low on your arms. 

“Angel, what’s that?” Bucky asked, grabbing your arm gently to get a better look. You took your arm away quickly, tugging your sleeve down. You shook your head and crossed your arms as you stood up. “It’s nothing, really. I’m gonna go shower.”

“It doesn’t look like nothing,” Bucky said, standing and walking over to you. You tensed, and he noticed. “Did someone hurt you?”

“Please drop it Bucky,” you pleaded, still unable to meet his eyes. 

“Y/n I swear if someone hurt you -”

“I did it.” you blurted out, surprising you both. You took a shaky breath, and Bucky felt his heart drop, praying he had heard you wrong. 

“What?” he asked, barely audible. The only noise was your heart hammering in your ears. You swallowed, looking down at the ground and fiddling with your sleeves again. 

“I hurt myself sometimes,” you said with a small shrug. “It helps.”

“With what?” he asked, carefully. 

You met his eyes, tears pricking your own. “Everything.”

Silence. Bucky walked towards you slowly, pulling you into a hug, as you closed your eyes, silent tears falling. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know how to.” you said simply. “I was embarrassed and ashamed, and I didn’t want you to blame yourself.”

He held you tightly, rubbing a hand up and down your back as more tears fell despite you trying to hold them back. “Can I see?”

You pulled back and tensed up, looking at him. “What?”

“Show me your scars,” he said.

You shook your head slightly, confused. “Why?”

“Because I want to see how many times you needed me and I wasn’t there,” he whispered.

You looked at him for a moment. “Bucky, I can’t do that, I -”

“Please y/n,” he whispered. “It’s just me.”

You studied him for a moment before nodding. With shaky hands, you pulled the sweatshirt over your head, dropping it on the floor and resisting the urge to cross your arms. You stepped out of your sweatpants next, keeping your eyes downcast. You heard a sharp intake of breath from Bucky, but you weren’t able to look at him yet.

Bucky felt his heart shatter at the scars littered across your arms. There were so many marks, he didn’t want to even think about how many there were. He felt tears prick his eyes but he knew he had to be strong right now. It pained him how much you were hurting and how oblivious he was. He took your hands in his, you still unable to look at him.

 “I’m so sorry it took me this long to be there for you.”

You shook your head, looking at him. “Don’t do that to yourself, please, it’s not your fault Bucky. You’re the reason it’s not worse.” You turned around and crossed your arms. “ I’m sorry, Bucky, I didn’t know how to tell you. They’re ugly, they’re disgusting. I’m disgusting. Who’s so fucked up that they have to slice open their skin to make themselves feel better? I hate myself more than anyone I’ve ever known. How pathetic is that?” 

“Y/n, can you look at me?”

Trying to blink back tears, you met his gaze again, his eyes glassy. “Your fight is our fight. None of this is your fault, don’t apologize for how you had to fight on your own. I’m here now, okay?” His hand ghosted over your scars. “These scars right here are your battle scars. They tell your story of how strong you are. Never be afraid or ashamed of that, okay?” 

You looked down, still embarrassed. 

“Hey, y/n. It’s okay.”

Before you could respond, Bucky took off his own shirt, something he had never done in front of you. Your eyes found the scars where metal met skin, most of them faded but had obviously been deep. You reached your hand out to trace over his scars.

“When they gave me this arm and they were starting to tortue me I would scratch at it. Whenever I had been out of cryo for long enough I would start to remember and claw at it too, before they wiped me again. I thought I was a monster.”

You shook your head. “No, Bucky that wasn’t your fault, you didn’t ask for Hydra to do all those things to you.”

“You didn’t ask for your mental struggles either. So why are you ashamed?”

“You didn’t ask for the metal arm, you wanted to get rid of it. It wasn’t in your control. This, what I do, I choose to do it every time. It doesn’t feel like a choice but I still pick up the knife.”

“But I bet if you could you would choose to put it down, yeah?” he brushed a piece of hair out of your eyes. “It’s okay y/n. Don’t be ashamed of how you helped yourself survive.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head and pulled you into another hug. “Don’t apologize for letting me be a part of your story.”

[jadegrey711]

Achey Thighs

Henry Cavill x Fem!Reader

A/N: For some reason i randomly find myself writing about Henry Cavill yet again. This guy really needs to be in more movies specifically romance movies lol. So this little story is based solely on true events, the true events being that i recently tired to workout and fucking killed my legs with lunges lol. Also the source for this gif can be found in the tags

*NOT MY GIF. Source is in the Tags*

Summary: Reader decides to workout with Henry and whilst doing some lunges she overexcerts herself and her muscles ache like crazy the next day. She assures Henry that she’s fine but he sees her limping and tells her the best thing to do is to rub it out.

If you like my stories you can check out my sideblog @jadegreywriting​ to see all of them and my masterlist without filtering through my main blog.

I own all rights to this story and do not give permission for my stories to be published, translated or reposted anywhere else. The only places I have published my stories is here on Tumblr and on my AO3 account (LadyAuthor711) 

This story is for 18+ ONLY. It contains sexual themes that are not suited for younger audiences so if you’re under 18 my blog and this story is not for you. Please make sure to read at your own discretion and remember that you are solely responsible for your content intake. 

It was a new year so that meant it was time for a new you. You had to admit that during quarantine you had gotten extremely lazy; Henry did too for a bit at the very beginning. And you had to admit that having him home all the time to cook for the both of you, along with lying about and messing around anytime you wanted was pure bliss. However, as soon as production was able to ramp up again;  he was right back to his early morning routines. So, you decided that you weren’t going to be a lazy lout anymore and decided to join him in his routine one day. 

You heard the alarm buzz and gasped awake, feeling a hint of drool on the pillow. “I’m awake. I’m awake.” You muttered and twisted in bed to find Henry already sitting up and smiling down at you. 

“Babe. Are you sure you want to do this with me? I mean it’s four in the morning, this is not your usual prowling hours.” he chuckled. 

“No.” you said sitting up in bed. “I said I wanted to do this with you and I meant it.” You stated before, gruffly getting out of bed, hearing Henry’s chuckles behind you. 

“Alright then. I’ll see you downstairs in ten to fifteen minutes yeah? Make sure you bundle up. It's cold out there.”

You let out an involuntary shiver at the thought of going outside this early in the morning. 

*****

Well that wasn’t too bad of a way to spend the morning. 

You knew that Henry purposely went easy on you this morning, knowing full well that his training and morning routines don’t consist of power walking, but it made you smile to think that he did it for you. Plus, even though it was freezing outside the walk itself was wonderful; being able to take in the early morning before the world was awake, with you and Henry chatting as you walked. Towards the end of the walk and as you neared closer back to the house, Henry noticed you were starting to shiver and wrapped a strong arm around you and brought you close to him. 

You immediately let out a low moan of appreciation as you felt his heat radiate into your cold skin. “God, you’re still so warm, even after being out here for an hour!” You smiled, snuggling closer into him. 

He let out a small chuckle, tugging you tighter to him. “Don’t worry this next part won’t be nearly as cold.” he smiled. 

“What are we doing?” You asked tentatively. 

“I thought we could work on some strength training together. I know you said you wanted to get in better shape.” he paused, a smile coming to his lips. “Although I personally think you are perfect as you are.” He smiled again before placing a quick kiss to your lips, causing your cheeks to heat. “However, I thought that strength training would be a good place to start and of course it won’t be something insane.” 

“Okay, that sounds like fun. Then after that are you going to bench me?” You chuckled as he opened the door. 

“Oh hell yes. That’s the only reason for me to stay in shape. So I can pick you up and throw you over my shoulders any time I please.” He said before his hands shot out to your hips and you let out a squeal of delight; as he stole you away into the house to begin your first day of strength training.

*******

“Fuck.” You groaned as you slowly got up from the couch, trying not to wince too loud as you made your way upstairs for another ibuprofen. You knew those lunges were a bad idea, you’d never been able to do them right and in consequence you’d always gotten hurt. 

However, this time you didn’t think you’d actually hurt yourself you were just this out of shape.

As you grabbed the bottle of ibuprofen, you heard Henry coming up the stairs. 

“Babe? Are you still sore?” 

“Yeah!” You shouted back from the bathroom, and a moment later Henry was standing there leaning on the bathroom door frame. 

“How bad does it hurt?” He asked, concern etching his face. He came up behind you and began rubbing your shoulders. 

You smiled. “My thighs don’t necessarily hurt, their just sore like fucking crazy.” 

Henry nodded and thought for a moment. “You’re not used to this kind of training but I’ll get you there.” He smiled. “But, I have an idea that I’m sure will help you out. Go lay down baby and I’ll be there in a second.” He said kissing your head. 

“Okay.” you nodded and tried so hard not to limp away but it was useless. You let out a loud groan as you sat on the bed, your legs outstretched in front of you as you waited for Henry to come out of the bathroom.

When he came out of the bathroom and into the bedroom he had your bottle of Aveeno lotion. You cocked an eyebrow at him. 

“What do you think you’re going to be doing with that?” 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” He smirked. “I know you’re sore, and it doesn’t matter how much ibuprofen you take right now the only way to really help with that soreness is to rub it out.” 

“Alright.” You said, and bit your bottom lip. “I’m liking this much better already. So you’re going to massage me? And it’s not even our anniversary!” You giggled and Henry let out a loud laugh. 

“Are you going to let me help you or are you gonna give me shit the entire time?” 

“Giving you shit is my born prerogative.” You chuckled, then got up onto your knees and reached out for him and pulled him into your embrace so you could kiss him. 

Henry slowly pulled away. “Alright, you’ve had your fun, now lay down and take off your pants.” He smirked.

“Oh! Now we’re cooking with fire!” you giggled.  

“Y/N.” He said, his face showing that he means business now. 

“Alright!” You giggled and started to take off your leggings, until you were laying on the bed in only Henry’s oversized shirt. 

“Good. Now tell me where is it sore the most? On the back of your thighs? The front? Does your calves hurt at all?” he asked his face filled with seriousness. 

“It’s the front of my thighs that hurt the most.” You said as you positioned yourself so you were laying completely flat on the bed the only thing that was elevated was your head. 

“Alright. Henry said simply, and then proceeded to climb on the bed and position himself so he was between your legs. He guided your legs so they were wrapped behind his back, and you laid open to him. 

“Henry. What are you doing?” You asked confused but intrigued just the same.

He lightly shushed you and grabbed the lotion bottle and rubbed some into his hands before he brought those strong hands down on your aching thighs.

You let out a soft hiss. But his hands didn’t waver as they continued to softly rub your thighs. He started out by using the tips of his fingers, so his touch was soft at first. Then as he continued working on your sore muscles he started using the palm of his hands. So he could work the deeper knots in the muscle. 

You let out a small sigh, as you felt your aching muscles ease under his touch, but you also felt something else as his strong hands worked you. You felt your arousal growing, watching him there between your thighs, his hands alleviating your pain but also bringing you pleasure as you watch them glide up and down your skin. His face a mask of shere concentration as he massaged you, only to look up at your face every now and again and each time he did, you could see his own arousal growing in his eyes. 

His hands moved a bit lower than they needed to, grinding them into your hips before coming back up your thighs and stopping at your knees; repeating the same motions. 

“How does this feel?” He asked, and it came out breathy. This had to be affecting him as much as it was affecting you. 

“It feels really good baby.” You purred, knowing now that you were a puddle in his hands now. 

“How good?” He licked his lips, then you felt his hands trace the inside of your thighs and before he could touch you where you needed him to, his hands went back up again. 

“Henry.” You gasped, feeling just how drenched you were for him and those hands of his right now. 

“Tell me how good it feels, Y/N.” He said, his voice holding a tone of command. His hands went back down to where they almost brushed your mound. 

“It feels so good, baby.” You purred and arched your hips up to him, letting him know exactly what you want. 

“Oh yeah?” he teased. 

“Yes.” You hissed. “Henry please, touch me.” You pleaded and to your sweet relief felt his fingers brush your pussy lips, separating them as he traced down your folds. 

“You’re so wet for me Y/N.”

You couldn’t think coherently with Henry’s fingers tracing your folds with him in between your thighs so you just nodded, feeling like you were going to explode if he didn’t properly touch you soon. 

“Such a good girl.” He purred as he put down your legs so he could lean over you and kiss you deeply. You let out a low moan as you finally got what you wanted and you felt Henry’s finger slide into, and started crooking it in a come hither motion. Adding gas to the already roaring fire inside you. 

“You know how much I love you Y/N.” he said against your neck, sucking your skin knowing that it’ll leave a mark there. 

You moaned and grabbed onto his curly locks as he pushed another finger inside of you, and you could feel that familiar climb in your lower belly as you knew you were about to reach your climax. 

“So good.” he purred in your ear and you felt yourself go over the edge and grip tightly onto his fingers as your climax raked over you. 

“God, I love you so much Henry.” You moaned somewhat unintelligently. Henry didn’t seem to mind at all as he slipped his fingers out of you and fell to the bed next to you. 

“Well that’s not at all where i intended that to go.” He laughed and you laughed with him. 

“You started it! Telling me to take off my pants then putting yourself between my legs!” you laughed. 

“Okay, maybe I did mean for it to go there.” he laughed. “So, does this mean that we’re doing this every time we work out?