#worst of all i dont have a good shirt to wear underneath these so i haven't had a chance to even wear them yet | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

littlemisslipbalm · 4 years ago

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“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.

#harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #enemies to lovers #dwd!harry #idk I always feel like theres more I need to put in here but idk #pls leave feedback and reblog

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waiting-for-motivation · 4 years ago

Text

the night we met

summary: On his hunt for his brothers, Crosshair has to face his love who helped the Bad Batch. His orders are explicit. He has to kill (Y/n).

pairing: Crosshair x Reader

warnings: all the angst you can imagine, major character death, blood

words: 875

a/n: dont ask what I was thinking sorry not sorry

MASTERLIST REQUEST RULES

“You follow them! I will take care of her!“

The command is harsh and rough. His voice has changed. Once it became softer when he was close to her but right now it seems to harden. In the past he would have taken off his helmet to show her a smile but right now Crosshair looks more like a clanker.

“Cross! You are not yourself. Let me help you“, (Y/n) screams over the purring of the rain. The elite squad troopers leave their leader behind and soon disappear behind the line of trees to hunt down the Bad Batch.

A quick glance tells Crosshair that his past friend has only one weapon - a small knife he got her to defend herself. But the memory of this present is fogged. Just like every other memory with his beloved cyar‘ika as well as his brothers.

“Come back to me“, (Y/n) whispers as she takes a step forward to be closer to the one she loves. The modulator of Crosshairs helmet absorbs it over the falling droplets of rain. His heart aches, but his head tells him another story. He has direct orders from Tarkin.

Kill Clone Force 99 and whoever decides to help these deserters.

“Cross. Please“, (Y/n) breaths as her secret boyfriend raises his rifle. The barrel of the blaster stares at her merciless. Crosshair moves one finger to the trigger but hesitates. He remembers her. He remembers every moment he ever shared with her. He can almost see her the night they met, with a flower in her hair and the pretties smile on her lips. He remembers (Y/n).

The blaster falls to the muddy ground. Crosshair reaches for his love but stops the second he realizes his hands are shaking. His hands never shake. That is why he is the sniper. Why are his hands shaking? Why is he disobeying orders? Good soldiers follow orders.

“Everything is alright. I‘m here. No one is going to hurt you“, (Y/n) says softly and places both her hands on the cold as well as wet cheeks of Crosshairs helmet. One of his hands grabs the fabric of her shirt tightly. The snipers breathing evens because of his cyar‘ikas words. She always knew what to say to calm him.

Carefully (Y/n) removes the helmet from Crosshairs head and smiles at him. His expression shows her pain. Rain mixes with tears. The dark gray helmet meets the ground next to the discarded rifle with a thud.

“I have no control over my thoughts nor my actions“, Cross explains with a desperate voice and nestles his cheek against the hand placed there. Her skin is as soft as he remembers.

“Focus on me“, (Y/n) demands and moves a little closer to her beloved clone. Their eyes meet and Crosshair takes her in. The rain drenched her clothes as well as hair. Still she looks gorgeous and makes his heart falter. She is his cyar‘ika.

“I remember you. I remember the night we met“, Crosshair tells (Y/n) with a hidden smile on his lips. His brown eyes shine at the memory. “You were wearing a dress, a pretty dress. I was drunk and flirted with you but instead of pushing me away you helped me find my brothers. I never told you that I fell in love with you right away. I love you cyar‘ika!“

Both smile at each other with tears streaming over their cheeks. (Y/n) moves as close as possible to Crosshair and finally presses her lips against his, followed by sweet nothings and professions of love. The kiss is wet because of the rain and their tears but bears so much affection.

“We can fix this. Your brothers...“, (Y/n) starts to promise after their lips part. And then everything changes. Crosshair takes his hands off her and even takes a step backwards with something shinny in his hands. (Y/n)s belt is lighter.

“My brothers are traitors“, Crosshair hisses in a harsh tone and frowns at the one he loves. How dare she betray him like that?

Then the clone remembers his orders. And good soldiers follow orders, so he rams the knife into (Y/n)s stomach. She takes a shaky breath and stares at her beloved sniper. But not with hate. With love and under understanding.

“Not your fault, Cross“, (Y/n) whispers. Before her injured body can touch the muddy ground, Crosshair catches her. Realization hits him. He hurt his cyar‘ika.

“Please. Stay with me. You are all that I have left“, Crosshair says. In despair, he presses both his hands to the stomach wound, but it has no use. Blood paints his gloves. The rain puddle underneath (Y/n) turns red. But the worst is the blood coming out of (Y/n)s mouth, painting her lips red.

“Remember, Cross, I always loved you“, she tells the sniper as she takes her last breath and her right hand falls from Crosshairs cheek. Now she feels cold in his grasp, so he presses her closer to himself, hiding his face in her neck.

“Take me back to the night we met, cyar‘ika!“, Crosshair speaks in a whisper which is followed by a bloodcurdling scream.

taglist: @lightning-wolffe @gwenebear @skippyhopperwisdom @jojos-trooper

#crosshair #crosshair x reader #crosshair angst #bad batch #bad batch x reader #bad batch angst #clones x reader

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warrior-angel · 3 years ago

Text

Blood shot

Summary: Someone who knows the lie will also Know the truth. Sam doesn't wanna watch you destroy yourself so you find another way to change his mind but is it really his mind you're changing?

Author: @warrior-angel

Word Count: 3K

Character: Sam Winchester X Reader, little bit of Dean. Alex (OMC)

Warnings: 18+ Smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it guys) Blood!, Age gap ( Reader is 19, Sam is about 36) choking, fluff, language.

Note: I have never written smut and I have no clue how to work with warnings, so please bare with me.

➳ All mistakes are my own!

The first time it happened you were drunk, the guy was right there and he was overing telling you it would make you feel good and in that moment you just wanted to forget your day so you said yes, you drank it. The rush of it lasted for days and the next weekend you were back at the same bar asking for another hit. A shot every week turned into every day and you couldn't go without The rush, the blood pumping through your veins, it all made you feel stronger than you ever thought was possible.

You never thought you would lose yourself to an addiction but here you were. It's a Friday night and you are standing in the back alley of a bar having sneaked away from your dad and your uncle so you could meet your friend who was once again late. You didn't like admitting it but these Friday night meet ups scared you, your dad or your uncle could come looking for you and they couldn't know, nobody could know because even though it felt good you knew it was wrong.

It took for what felt like hours before you finally saw a shadow walking into your direction. He lifted his face and you signed with relief seeing Alex his face, the bastard was smiling from ear to ear while you were panicking over getting caught

“Hey there princess,”

“You're late” you tell him annoyed by it taking so long, you hadn't had your shot yet and you were starting to get on edge.

“Someone is cranky, you should take a shot. I heard it's calming.” he says trying to be funny which you didn't appreciate.

you reached in your pocket and took out the flask and held it out to him.

He nodded his head and took out his pocket knife before lifting up his sleeve and cutting into the flesh. You followed every action carefully, focusing on the crimson red drops that fell to the ground. “Don't worry sweetheart there's more than enough” he tells you, holding his arm out towards the flask which you opened as fast as you could.

you let the drops fall, licking your lips as your eyes take in every drop until the flask is completely filled to the brim.

Once it's full he pulls back, rubbing the soreness from the cut away and showing the wound was almost completely healed.

“Thanks,” you mumble, closing the flask.

“You know what” he says, making your eyes turn up to him. “i’m late and i’m in a good mood, i'll let you take shot if you want”

“what?” you asked, taken back by his words, you hadn't taken a shot straight from the source since the first time he offered months ago.

“You look like you could use it,”

“I want to believe me i just don't" you tell him hesitant "nevermind”

“you don't trust me?” he asks and you raise an eyebrow. “you know what they say, don't trust your demons.” he flashes his black eyes and you shake your head.

“Very funny Alex, you know that if i wanted to i could kill you, or maybe torture suits you better you seem to like it bloody,”

he takes a step closer to you, the pocket knife in his hand and his eyes growing darker.

“don't tease me sweetheart,” he says, sending you a wink before handing you the knife.

“Why don't you take a shot from the best vein,” he tells you, using his free hand he reaches for the collar of his shirt and pushes it aside showing the big veins on his neck. you lick your lips and look into his eyes. Taking the knife from his hand you lift it to make a small cut, letting the blood trickle down as you stuff the knife back into his pocket.

“Do your worst princess,” you lean forward, licking up the line of blood that was rolling down before settling over the open wound taking in every little drop that he's giving you.

“Y/n?” The back door of the club opens and you push Alex away, licking your lips to catch any of the leftover blood before looking your uncle straight in the eyes.

Alex gives you a quick goodbye before putting on his hood and running as far away from you and your uncle as he can, leaving you to deal with the awkward situation.

“So this is why you leave me and your dad every Friday night, you’ve got a secret boyfriend?”

“What? No, he isn't my boyfriend. we were just.” you look up at him trying to figure out what to say but coming up blank. You turn your eyes towards the ground and stuff your hands in your pockets cursing underneath your breath when you hear your ring collide with the metal of the flask.

“got something to show me?” Sam asks and you shake your head. Before he can say anything the back door opens again and your dad comes out looking over the two of you. “Great, you found her, ready to go home?” he asks and you nod “yep, lets go” you walk past him straight towards the Impala thankful that your dad walked out before sam could get ahold of the flask.

The second your dad drove into the bunker's garage and cut the engine you were out giving both your uncle and your dad a quick goodnight before rushing towards your bedroom.

closing the door you let yourself drop against the wood while you try to calm down the pounding in your chest. You had gotten too close to getting caught and you didn't like it. the high from the blood had faded and you were on edge again making your head spin.

You shook off your jacket and threw it on the bed, sitting yourself down beside it and taking out the flask. If you took one little shot just to calm the pounding in your head you would be good, you might not even need another shot tomorrow. Twisting open the lid you set your lips on the rim and swallow the thick liquid.

A loud knock on your door made your eyes snap up. you lick your lips trying to get rid of the evidence while closing the flask. The second you twist it closed and you lift your head your uncle's eyes are on you, This time you knew you were screwed.

“I can explain!” you tell him not knowing what else to say. “You know I was younger once, right? i didn't wait until twenty one to drink either.” he tells you making a nervous smile escape. he thought you were drinking alcohol.

He walks over and sits down beside you making our heart beat rise again.

“You know you can talk to me right?”

“i-i know” you stutter making him smile.

“You got lipstick all over your chin.” he tells you, making your eyes widen, you didn't wear any makeup.

Sam reches up and you back away “don't!” you tell him but he’s already wiping making the stain on your chin worse.

he leans back looking at the crimson red on his fingers and then back up at you.

“is that blood?” he asks looking into your eyes but you stay quiet. he looks towards the flask before setting his eyes back on you and you can see he already knows what's going on.

“what's inside the flask Y/n”

“Please, let me explain.” you say underneath your breath.

He stands up from the bed and shakes his head, Running his hand through his hair trying to make sense of the situation.

“you're drinking demon blood?” you dare to look into his eyes seeing the disappointment and the rage that is stuck in them.

“Please dont tell dad,” you beg and his jaw clenches. “I know it's bad, I do,” you tell him as you stand up from the bed. “It makes me feel stronger, it helps me focus. I need it Uncle Sam, please.”

“No, you don't,” he tells you, “This feeling, that rush, it's not worth it.”

You shake your head, your mind spinning not knowing what else to do than begging hoping he will change his mind. “i can help you y/n, let me help you” he begs and you shake your head even more.

“I have been better than i've ever been, please uncle Sam you know what it's like right, the rush, that feeling?” you ask, begging him to understand the situation. “I know it's wrong, I know I shouldn't want it but it feels so good.”

“and what about when that rush ends huh? what about when you don't have anything left and your body is begging for more, how does that feel?” Sam asks, looking at you.

“I have it under control,” you tell him knowing that if you run out you can call Alex for a refill. “yeah?" He asks, stepping closer to you "tell me how's the headache going, the nose bleeds or how do you deal with your heightened senses?”

“How did you..”

“I’ve been there Y/n, i know what you're going through”

“Than do it with me” you say it before you can think about it.

“What? No!” he says, stepping away from you again. “You know how it works, you know what to do about the fire that runs through your body, you know what to do about the tension.”

He's pacing back and forth behind your bed, his eyes going to the flask on the bed and you can see he’s thinking about it. You just have to point him in the right direction, if you can't change his mind you just have to come up with something else, and sex always sales.

“You told me that you always felt guilty for being with a demon, you don't have to with me.” you say reaching for the flask on the bed.

“Don’t!” he warns.

“Tell me that you never think about and I'll drop it.” he looks up at you and you can see his wall is cracking, you just had to find the right way to break it.

“Alex told me the sex is great after you drank the blood, is that true?” his eyes turn away from you and you know you got him right where you want .

“It is, isn't it?.” you push the flask in your pocket and take another step closer, You were blind, he was hot so you coundt help but feel a fire in you're stomach at the idea of fucking him while high on blood.

You slowly lift one of your hands and let your fingers brush over your skin. Closing your eyes you bite your lip as you let your fingers brush the soft skin from your neck down the fally of your breast stopping at the low cut of your shirt and opening your eyes to see Sam's are already on you, his eyes darkened and his breathing heavier. “Do you like that uncle Sam, the idea of fucking me while were both high on blood?” you step past him and lock your door before turning around, Sam his eyes still on your body.

“The things you could do to me. I’ve thought about it you know, my uncle fucking my little pussy, Shit i’m getting wet just thinking about it”

Sam closes his eyes and for a few seconds you think you might have gone too far but when he opens them again his pupils are almost completely black and before you could about what's happening you were shoved against the door, your back hitting the hardwood with a tud taking the breath away from your lungs.

“You think you can seduce me into letting you destroy yourself?” he asks “You’re desperate for that rush right, you want that feeling?” you nod your head hoping he will let you have another shot but instead he leans down “let your uncle show you how to get that,”

Within seconds he pulls your body flush against his and you can feel how hard he is through the layers of clothes sending a shiver down your spine.

He reaches down until his hand is in your pocket and he's taking out the flask.

“You trust me baby?” You swallow the lump in your throat not knowing what he wants you to do but you nod anyway.

He throws the flask onto the chair beside your door before attacking your lips with his own.

your fingers tuck at the strands of hair making his grip on your hips tighten as you swallow his groans.

His body is flush against yours and you feel your entire body heat up as his hands move back from your hips towards you ass squeezing the flesh in his big hands.

His lips moved from your own down to nip at your jaw before moving to your neck, pressing kisses into your skin, arm wet sweeps of tongue moving over your skin until his teeth sank into that perfect spot just below your ear making sure to leave a mark that you somehow had to explain to your dad in the morning.

He pulled his lips away from you but stayed close. He swallowed and let out deep breaths, his eyes roaming your body before setting his eyes back on yours and for the first time in your live you didn't see think of him as big uncle Sammy who would protect you, You wanted him to destroy you for everybody else and show you all the things he could do with his hands and his mouth.

He bit your lower lip, making you gasp and taking that opportunity to slip his tongue over yours. Hands go down to the hem of your shirt and the second you both pull apart for air he’s taking the fabric off your body.

His lips crashing back into yours as he hoists you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as your arms wrap around his neck. Turning around he walked you towards the edge of the bed before dropping you both down on it, you landed on your back with a soft grunt, bouncing a few times. He leaned on his arm, his fingers going into your hair and slightly pulling on the strands. “Sam,” you gasp not knowing what you're asking for.

A wide grin spreads on his face before he's claiming your lips again and moving his hand to your back to unclasp your bra, taking it off and throwing it somewhere in your room. he slowly lowers his mouth, placing a few kisses on your jaw and going down to your neck creating a path of wet kisses down your body until he reaches your breasts. he sucks on your nipple rolling it between his teeth making you arch your back “oh, shit...” You moan only making Sam's grin wider as he makes his way down your body stopping at the top of your jeans.

“Such a fucking tease,” You breath out making his grin widden even more. “Aren't we greedy,”

“You promised me a rush, right now you only make me want to take another shot,” You say trying to look at how far you can push him, truth was you could care less for the metal flask that was across the room, Sam was giving you something much better but you still wanted to see what would happen if you tipped him over the edge.

He presses himself hard against your clothed cunt, making a desperate moan escape your lips. “What do you really want, Y/N?” He whispered against your lips. You fist your hands in his shirt wanting to get rid of the fabric and letting a groan leave your mouth when he doesn't let you. “Use your words baby”

“ i want these damn clothes of,” He smiled innocently, but you could tell he liked having you wrapped around his finger. he pulled away from you sitting back on his knees and stripped of his shirt exposing his toned chest and you couldn't stop yourself from reaching out and letting yours hands roam over his body.

He reaches for the hem of your own jeans and pulls them down swiftly, throwing them on the ground next to your bed before taking his place between your legs kissing his way down towards your covered heat that was dripping from the excitement he was giving you.

His hands move easily over your skin until his fingers dig into your panties. instead of pulling them down he tugs on fabric until it tears. Your eyes are stuck, his face taking in the way he licks his lips at the sight of your pussy.

pushing his hair away from his face. He looks up at you with his hazel eyes locking on your before leaning in.

“S—Sam...” For the first time you feel the rush that the blood usually gives you, that feeling coursing through your veins and not because you're high on blood but because of him. The feeling of his tongue on you makes you forget every single shot you had taken in the last few months.

Your back arches as you let out a breathy moan. He pushes you back with his hands until you’re laying flat on the bed. Using one of his free hands he slowly pushes a finger into you, drawing a loud gasp from deep inside you. You feel your climax building, sweat breaking out over your entire body but right before you tip over he pulls away making you wine at the loss of touch.

he moves back up kissing you fiercely as he grinded his hard covered cock against you

“Y/N, Dammit…”” he growled, tangling his fingers in your hair. “You feel how hard you make me?

At the sounds of his words you boldy moved your hand down to his Jeans making quick work of opening it and letting your hand sneak under the waistband of his boxers, wrapping your hand around his hard cock. He pushed his head into your neck, groaning into your skin as you worked your hands on him,

"I’ve you keep doing that, I won't be able to stop." he warns giving you the opportunity to back away if you wanted

“Then don't.”

That's all it takes him before he’s moving to strip away the last items of clothes. When he pulled down his boxers, you couldn’t stop a gasp from escaping seeing how long, thick, and hard he was and he smiled when he caught you staring, he slowly made his way back over you keeping the teasing going only making you want him more.

“What do you want?” Sam asked, “I’ll do whatever you want..” he told you hesitantly knowing that there was still the risk that you would ask him to get high on blood with you. “All you have to do is ask…”

You hesitated for a moment, unsure what to say but knowing that you craved him more than you did the blood.

“I want you Sam,” you breathed out and you could see his eyes darken “i want you to fuck me hard”

he runs his hands up your legs giving you a sense of security before he pushes all the way in, a sweet mixture of pain and pleasure escaping your lips as his big cock stretched you out and made you feel fuller than you had ever felt.

“Fuck, you’re tight.” he groaned, keeping a slow pace

“Don't hold back Sam,” .

“I-i can’t i will absolutely ruin you,”

“Do it,” you moan, wanting him to give you everything he has, “Ruin me uncle Sam, make me yours.”

He pulled back and slammed forward again, knocking the wind out of your lungs, thrusting hard and picking up the pace until he was fucking into you like a wild animal.

loud grunts leave his mouth and you reach out trying to hold onto him. taking both of your hands in one of his own he holds them over your head as his other arm wraps around your throat giving you the biggest rush you had ever felt.

"Fuck, Sam!" you cry out throwing your head back, eyes closing shut.

"Is this what you want?" He asks thrusting harder, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside of you “Me using you,'' He says trusting harder only making you moan loader “Fuck baby, you dont deserve this, not after the shit you pulled.” he says coming to an abrubt stop making you wine at the loss. "You shouldn't be given a good time"

“I don’t care if I deserve it or not.” you grunt, placing youre hands over his own tightening the grib he has on your throat cutting of more of youre air “Fuck me Sammy.”

His hips snap rapidly into you fluids dripping all over your thighs as he loses control, taking you however he wants. You're pussy clenching around his cock, making an animalistic growl come from deep within him.

“Oh, fuck…” his hand moved away from youre throat his hips snapping into you as he was desperatly trying to reach his own high. He was pushing harder and fucking you into the matrass as he led out the most amazing dirty and loud sounds making her own high come rushing in faster than she had ever thought possible.

“Sam. fuck, Sam i’m gonna cum,”

“Let go for me. Come for me baby. do it” you're whole body tenses up as your orgasm washes over youre, black dots covering your vision as Sam kept pounding into you like there was no tomorrow

there was no other thing for you to do than surrender yourself complete to him as he fucked you harder than anybody has ever done. “Fuck! Sam please come inside me.”

you start begging for it, completely letting go of your pride as you want nothing more than him to give all he’s got. “Please Uncle Sam!”

“Oh, Baby….Fuck.. Y/n,” With a last groan his thrusts turned sloppier as he buried himself deep inside of you. placing a chaste kiss on your lips he pulls out and lets his body drop on the bed next to you.

“Fuck.” you whispers taking in all that just happened, his arms touching yours pulling you out of your thoughts to look at him.

“Are you alright?” he asks and you shake your head slowly, eyes being stuck on the ceiling. “I just seduced my uncle into fucking me after trying to get him to drink demon blood,” you mumble, taking in all the shitty things you had done.

“Baby, I wanted this, I have wanted it for a long time.” your eyes snap back towards him "What does that mean,” you whisper not knowing what to think or what to do.

“It means that I don't regret this happening" You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. His arm folded out and you cuddled into his side laying your head on his chest listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“I don't want the blood anymore,” you tell him honestly and he moves a little below you making you look up at him “i liked the rush it gave me, the rush you just gave me.”

Smoothing your hand over his chest you lay your head back down smiling at the feeling of being close to Sam.

“I love you,” you mumble, the arm Sam had wrapped around you tightens as the other one comes up to move the hair from your face as he leans down enough to place a small kiss on your forehead. “I love you too baby."

#Sam Winchester Smut #Sam winchester #Supernatural #Smut #Sam Winchester x Reader

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nagito-kissmaeda · 4 years ago

Note

I really don't know if requests are open so I'm sorry if I didn't noticed they're closed 💔 However if they are open could you please write Nagito with female s/o that lost bet to Hiyoko and running around island in maid dress?

ミ☆ Sorry this took me so long! Also it got very nasty and i hope that is okay lol. I can’t help myself when it comes to Nagito. Word count: 2024 Contains: NSFW, fem reader, they/them pronouns, explict sexual content, voyeurism ミ☆ Please send me a DM or an ask if you’d like me to write something for you!

This is humiliating.

The Jabberwock island sun is burning down hot as always, you can feel the skin of your bare arms already starting to burn and your legs are getting sweaty under the thick thigh high socks. This outfit was not designed for this weather, but clearly Hiyoko Saionji cared very little about that fact.

She is walking beside you, snickering behind a hand. The six inch heels she has forced you into makes her seem even shorter than usual.

You sigh, “How much longer?”

“I told you! One whole lap of the islands!” She taps a finger to her chin, feigning thoughtfulness, “We’re about...halfway done.”

You huff and cross your arms. You don't usually wear heels, your feet are already starting to ache, and the unpaved path on central island makes it even harder for you to walk, “Can I at least take the shoes off?”

Saionji scoffs, “Uh, obviously not. The heels are essential. You think i'm just gonna let you run around in sneakers? What would even be the fucking point?”

“Yeah, yeah, Okay. I get it.”

To be fair, this was all your fault. After waking up from the Neo World Program, you and the rest of your classmates found that the island was a mess and had spent the past few months slowly making it livable. It must have been rotten luck that got you paired with Saionji to clean out the back room in the diner on the second island. Apparently the waitresses who worked there before the island was abandoned used to wear sexy maid costumes, and there happened to be one in your size. Saionji had said something about a bet, that if you were game enough to walk around in the maid costume, she would take on your cleaning duties for the next three days. It was a bad idea, you really should have said no.

There's a gust of wind and your short skirt flutters around your thighs. You clench your jaw and try your best to keep your panties from showing. Saionji laughs again.

“Remember when we bumped into Hanamura earlier and he said that he thought you looked-”

“Shut up, Saionji.” You hiss, walking a little faster as you cross the bridge over to the first island, “Withstanding your ridicule was not part of the deal.”

“Yeah, but it wasn't not not part of the deal.” She sticks her tongue out.

The heels are so loud on the wooden slats of the bridge, and it takes a decent amount of effort to stop yourself from getting stuck in one of the gaps and tripping. You can tell Saionji thinks it is very funny how hard you need to focus on your own feet.

“Okay.” She says as you step out onto the island, “One loop here, and then back to the second island. You might actually manage it if you dont trip and break a leg on the way back,”

You shoot her a glare, “Was that a threat?”

She shrugs, “Just saying you should watch where you walk” She playfully taps your shin with the side of her foot, you manage not to stumble, but it was still a dirty move.

Before you are able to call her out for her nasty trick, Saionji laughs again and nods her head in the direction of the cabins. You’ve just made your way in through the front gate, and are about to head down to the restaurant, “Look who was lucky enough to leave his cottage right as were walking past.”

Saionji’s intonation on the word lucky makes your stomach twist and turn. You’re too afraid to follow her line of sight, swallowing nervously and looking down at the ground, “Hey, uh, i think I’m calling it here. You win.”

You move to walk away, buy Saionji grabs you by the wrist, “What are you chickening out for? I didn't realise you were such a loser.”

“Saionji” You warn, glaring down at her, “You better let me go or else i will-”

“Ah, hello!” Komaeda interrupts. You freeze, heart racing at the sound of his voice. This is literally the worst thing that could have possibly happened. Your cheeks are burning “How lucky it is that I get to see the both of...ah…” His voice slowly trails off as he notices what you are wearing. It's with a newfound desperation that you struggle to escape Saionji’s grip, but she holds fast.

“Hey, Weirdo.” Saionji jeers, her hand still tight around your wrist, “Do you like this cute outfit I found?”

“Oh...I...uh…”

You let your eyes slip up to his face. Komaeda has his hair up in a ponytail and his cheeks are burning red as he stares down at the length of bare thigh peeking out from the top of your stockings. You can hear the sound of your heart beating in your ears.

You like Komaeda. As in, you really like Komaeda.

Seeing him getting all flustered is doing strange things to your stomach, but you are still frozen with embarrassment.

“I think he likes it~” Saionji taunts, smirking up at you.

His eyes are combing over you, his lower lip pulled in between his teeth. There's warmth between your thighs, your fingernails are digging into your palms. You barely even notice as you start getting bolder, gently brushing the hemline of your skirt with your hand, tugging it a little further up your thigh. Komaeda’s throat bobs.

“Did...did Saionji make you do this?” He asks.

You nod, still feeling too overwhelmed to actually say anything. He must see the way you are looking at him, the way his blush runs all the way down to his collarbones, the way you want desperately to see more of his skin. His eyes meet yours questioning, but hungry.

“You look…” he heaves a shaky breath, eyes quickly flitting over to Saionji like he is trying to remind himself that she is still there, “...good.”

You grip onto the fabric of your skirt to stop your hands from shaking, “Thank you. Um-” you look down at your toes for a moment, “Hanamura got kind of weird about it, but i'm uh…” you look back up at Komaeda, his eyes are perfect and green, “I’m glad that you like it…”

He’s just staring at you now, and you hope that he understands the meaning of your words. That maybe this whole embarrassing ordeal is worth it if he finds you attractive. You want him so badly, you want him to want you so badly. The way his eyes roam over your body makes you quiver with something. Nerves? Excitement?

“What the fuck is happening right now?”

You and Komaeda are suddenly pulled from a trance and forced to look back down at Saionji. She’s staring up at you with a mix of horror and confusion.

You feel a bolt of arousal shoot down to your center when Komaeda turns to her and says, “Would you mind leaving us alone, Saionji-san?”

Saionji blinks, “Huh? We’ve still got to walk all the way back to the second island or they lose the bet! I'm not going anywhere in case she cheats!”

“Bet’s off.” You say, pulling your wrist from her grasp and taking a step closer to Komaeda. God, even with the heels on he is still taller than you, “You should really go.”

Saionji barks a laugh, “Fine, but you better not complain when you have cleaning duty all next week.”

He is very subtle about it, but you feel the cool touch of Komaeda’s fingers on your bare thigh, he stares at Saionji over your shoulder and is much less polite when he says, “Saionji, leave.”

You don't turn around, but you hear the sound of sandals clattering on wood as she dashes out of the hotel area. The second she is out of view, Komaeda grabs you by the shoulders and pins you up against the wall of the closet cottage (Souda’s? It really doesn't matter) breathing so heavily that you can see his shoulders shaking.

“I’m...I’m so sorry...I” He back pedals, letting his arms fall to the sides, “I don't know what came over me, I'm such garbage i-”

Fuck it, you think. Grabbing the front of his coat and tugging his lips up against yours. It takes him a moment to recognise what is even happening, but the second he does, his large hands grab tight on either side of your waist and he kisses you back in a fervor. You can feel him moan against your lips, and it’s too much for you. So you spin him around until he is the one with his back up against the wall, jamming your knee in between his legs and shoving one hand up under his shirt. His skin is smooth, you can feel his ribs under your fingers. He whimpers under your lips when your tongue enters his mouth, tangling with his, and one of his hands creeps down to the short hemline of your skirt, slipping his fingers up underneath. You hear him choke on a moan when he finds that your stockings are being held up by a garter-belt.

“You’re killing me.” He hisses against your mouth.

You lift up the knee between his legs and grind it against his crotch. He makes the cutest little noise, hips wriggling against the pressure of your knee until he is basically fucking himself on it. You moan at the sight of him, cheeks red, hair mussed, writhing against you desperately.

“That’s a good boy.” You whisper in his ear, pressing a kiss to the side of his throat, “Does that feel nice?”

“Hng-I….I…” he throws his head backward until it collides with the wall, “What about..ahhAH...what about you?”

Watching him like this is getting you wet enough as it is, you smirk and suck gently on his pulse point, “What about me? I want to watch you cum, sweetheart. That’s what i want.”

His green eyes are blown wide when they meet yours, he swallows, “Out….outside?”

“Yeah, baby.” You press your knee up even harder and relish in the choked sound he makes, “Right here.”

You aren't sure what it is about the maid costume that gives you this confidence, but you feel powerful. Watching Komaeda moan and drool as he grinds furiously against your stocking-clad knee is only making you feel sexier.

The hand you have under his shirt sneaks upward even further, he squeaks when you rub one of his nipples between your thumb and forefinger, “You think you can cum for me, sweetheart?”

He nods furiously, hips quivering as you continue biting and sucking your way down his throat and over his shoulder. You can feel him growing more desperate, you can feel his pressing his throbbing cock harder and harder against the unyielding pressure of your knee. His mouth is hung open, drool is dripping down his chin and he is flushed all the way down to his chest. You moan just from the mere sight of him, your sex clenching with desire, but that would have to wait. You wanted to watch him come undone.

“I…I’m” he whines, writhing and panting against you, “I’m so close…”

“You’re going to cum?”

Komaeda makes a noise of affirmation, but it mostly just sounds like a moan. You grin and push your knee up even higher, leaning in to lick up the shell of his ear.

“Go on, then.” You whisper, “Cum for me, pretty boy,”

A moan rips through him. So loud that anyone nearby must have heard it. His hips quiver and shake against you, grinding and wriggling and then finally coming to a stop. He looks godlike, his hair fucked five ways to hell and his eyes glazed over with arousal. A shaky giggle escapes his mouth, and then he licks his lips.

“Okay. Your turn”

You don't resist when he grabs you by the hand and pulls you to his cottage. Maybe Saionji actually helped you out for once, even if she didn't mean it.

#komaeda x reader #/request #nagito x reader #komaeda nagito #nagito komaeda #danganronpa #danganronpa x reader #sdr2 #iamjustsimpingheredontmindme

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ukiyo-jaem · 5 years ago

Text

my timer didn't go off to post this at 0:00 i am so sorry~~

warnings: smut (it's tasteful), mean parents (??) that's about it. it's got fluff in here. NOT PROOFREAD

words: 4.1k (there's a plot, trust me)

domestic!mark lee ugh a fan favorite~

I listened to Fool for You by Zayn while writing so...yeah. alrighty, let's go~~

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

Fool For You

summer breezes and fresh flowers. the first big stretch when you first wake up that has you reeling back into the euphoric feeling of your warm sheets. taking a bite of your favorite dessert that reminds you of home. that scent that carries you away to your childhood of good memories and make-believe scenarios; where the worst disaster was your parents calling you in for dinner.

that's what it felt like to be in his presence.

the late night summer dates with Mark were what felt like true heaven. the nights where both of you would stay up till the early dawn holding each other so closely. the stickiness of one's skin from the morning humidity was beauty in his eyes. your natural form where no one could take you away from him.

"no matter how much i say that i love you, i will always love you more than that."

his words held so much depth when he spoke to you. he treated you like his queen and he truly was your king. he was the love of your wildest dreams. but he was way better...because he was real.

both of your families condemned this love and thought of it as useless and a waste of time. yet, it was all the time for both of you. you didn't need anyone else except mark and mark alone.

but every knife has it's point...and you've both been reaching it slowly but surely. the calls to one's family becoming longer and less loud.

"i don't want to go to dinner with your family though." your words were heartbreaking to his ears but he had made his decision. "i know. please. i know you hate them-" "i could never hate anyone, mark. it pains me but i'd never let it turn into hate" you said and his shoulders dropped. "you're so strong. just one night and i will never ask you to go near them." his eyes pleaded from where he was laying on the bed. your body positioned at the end of the comfy and warm bed.

your mind was lost in thought until you felt his hand grab yours. "pretty please?" he pouted and you groaned laying down. "that's so not cool to pout." you said turning towards him. "but i know it works." he comes closer to lay soft kisses all over your face, ending with a meaningful kiss on your lips.

"fine." you breathed after he finished his moment of passion. "and that is why you're the best." he grabbed your body and pulled you on top of him.

"we have to leave soon." you complained and he groaned. "you wanted me to go so bad and now you're gonna make us late." you said straddling his waist. "yeah yeah yeah." he held your waist and sat up.

you rolled off as he puckered his lips, leaving your boyfriend waiting. "what are you gonna wear, handsome?" you opened the closet. "nice shirt. blazer. pants." he listed off the most vaguest items. "well duh but what color?" you looked at your dresses. "black." he said and you wanted to bang your head on the closet door.

"okay tomorrow we're going shopping and i'm making you add some more color into your wardrobe." you said taking his blazer and dress shirt down. "yes dear." he dragged out.

"i'm going to go get dressed and do makeup." you waved him off and disappeared into the bathroom.

makeup was simple as you were left alone. yet, once you were starting your hair, mark thought it was an amazing idea to come in and try to dance the time away.

music had been playing for the past 20 minutes through the household speakers. it was a usual occurrence and a well loved routine. say you won't let go by james arthur had been sweeping through the house for the past couple of minutes.

his arms wrapped around your waist and his cheek rested against your shoulder.

"you look as beautiful as ever, and i swear that everyday you get better. you make me feel this way some how-" his soft voice carrying you away from the daily task.

"im gonna love you till my lungs run out, i promise till death to us part like in our vows-" his hands gripped yours, twirling you around in the small bathroom, ending up with you both pressed up chest to chest, slow dancing on the tiled floor.

"dont cry." he pouted as he saw your eyes fill with tears. He gently wiped them before they could fall. "then don't be so freaking cute." you pouted and his smile stretched across his face. "ugh you're so cute." he kissed your cheek ever so gently as to not mess up your makeup.

"and you're looking as dashing as ever." you brushed your hands over his dress shirt, the first few buttons still unbuttoned, his silver chain still laying on his exposed collar bones.

"want me to do your hair?" you asked and he didn't hesitate to sit on the toilet lid and wait patiently.

he always seemed so relaxed with your fingers running through his hair; the requests at 3 am after he awakes from an unpleasant dream never making you angry.

his hair was so soft and fun to play with. but with a little touch of magic and hair product, he would transform into his model-like man.

you finished up and let him go relax in the bedroom.

your dress hugged your body so nicely and flattered every curve you thought you never possessed. when paired with the jewelery mark had gotten you for your guys' anniversary, a goddess was being put together in human form.

"ready?" you asked walking back to the room to get your shoes. a whistle made you scoff lightly at the behavior. "ready to come home already and have you all to myself." mark sighed but you walked over to put your phone in your hand-purse along with extra lipstick and perfume.

he started to look nervous about the whole situation. "relax. i'm here for you and you alone. if you want to leave as soon as we get there? we'll just go to a different restaurant." you put a hand on his chest comfortably. "you got this." he smiled as you knew all his emotions at once.

"now let's go. i'm hungry." you kissed his cheek quickly and wiped away the mark of your lip color.

both of you walked hand in hand out of the house and to his car where he nervously drived you both to the restaurant.

"here we are." was all he said as he parked facing the restaurant. inside the window sat his parents and brother. his brother was with his own partner as they all laughed. mark knew he didn't have to worry about his brother not accepting his love. it was all his parents.

"let's go. try to look happy. they're your parents." you defended them. something he never understood about you. when facing backlash from his parents, you just let it go and never returned the hate. you were so loving while they did nothing but try to bring you down.

"but they're raging assholes to you." he turned towards you and you shrugged, wiping something on his cheek away and keeping your hand on the side of his face.

"and that's fine. but you're their baby. they just want the best for you. they'll never be happy with anyone." you tried to put it into perspective but it never helped.

he took your hand off his face and held it tightly. "tell me you want to leave. and we're gone." he said and you laughed lightly. "fine." you agreed and his smile made everything feel better.

"let's get this over with." he exited and ran to get your door like the gentleman he was.

he hooked your arm in his and lead you both towards the entrance.

"try to make memories. they're your parents. they love you." you reminded and he rolled his eyes. "yes, dear." he opened the door for you and didn't let you enter without a quick and cheeky smack to your ass. he acted innocent as he lead you to the round table.

"Oh, Markie!" his mom called drawing all attention to both of your presences. his parents hugged and pinched his cheeks as you greeted his brother and his brother's partner. "you look amazing tonight, y/n." his brother's partner smiled. "oh thank you so much. you look even better though! are those Cartier earrings?!" you rejoiced at their exquisite tastes.

"Only the best for them." Mark's brother smiled and you coo'd at the pure love.

"Here sit next to me." The 2 seats were next to Mark's father and Mark's brother's partner.

You gladly accepted the seat and Mark sat down not long after you. "We already ordered for you guys not knowing when you would show up, I apologize." Mr. Lee smiled at Mark. "Oh that's alright. What's on the menu tonight?" Mark asked, his hand finding yours underneath the white dining cloth. "Well I thought with all your work that we'd treat us all to steak." His mother smiled and you could hear a sigh come from the girl next to you.

"But I haven't seen y/n's figure in a while so I made the exception for a plain salad for you." Mrs. Lee forcibly smiled at you. Mark's hand squeezed a little harder than normal. "Oh thank you for the consideration and accomodations, Mrs. Lee," Her eyes squinted as what seemed like spite. "and might i add that you look amazing tonight." your genuine sincerity broke almost everyone's hearts at the table. "oh why thank you but i'm not one for meaningless small talk." she took a sip from her dark red wine.

"it's alright. i completely understand." you smiled and and she rolled her eyes. "of course you do." she muttered and turned towards her youngest son. "so, mark, what is new at the company?" her eyes held eagerness for conversation, something you'd wish to see atleast once.

"don't listen to the old bat." the beautiful woman said that sat next to you. "it's her baby. nothing is ever good enough for him." she rolled her eyes. "i know. i understand where her heart is." your fingers toying with the dainty necklace resting on your collarbones.

"you can have some of my meal when it comes. i didn't know what they were going to pull so i made sure to eat a burger before i came." you both giggled at the matter as someone cleared their throat. you both looked up to see Mr. Lee sending daggers towards your direction.

"i apologize." you said straightening yourself up in your seat. "what was so funny?" he asked sternly. "we were actually talking about her new line coming out in a couple weeks. something with one of the models. you know how that is." she swooped to your defense. "by the way, how is it coming?" she asked, takin a sip of the ice water infront of her.

"it's..uh..going very well actually. i have some investors coming to my fashion show to see if they'd be interested in investing. if they invest then i would be able to organize shows in other parts of the world. milan, london, paris, beijing, new york, tokyo-" "but are you going to go back to school for business or just dilly-dally until something goes wrong?" Mrs. Lee asked quickly.

"well my father and mother are both ceo's of their company so they help guide me in what i have trouble with." you smiled. mark's hand has become steel as he hasn't let go yet. the waiters brought out the food one by one with a small and plain side salad being placed infront of your body.

mark stared at the bare plate in front of you and wanted to hurl at that being the only food you were going to eat tonight.

"i'm fine." you leaned over to whisper in his ear. "eat so they don't ask you questions." you nudged his elbow.

"sharing food is prohibited." Mr. Lee cut everyone off. "we're not." mark muttered defeated. you swallowed your pride and ate a leaf at a time to try and curb your actual hunger.

mark ate a couple bites but you could tell he was taking his anger out with chewing; jaw clenching was one of his tell-tale signs of anger...and this steak didn't look like tough meat.

"markie. we went to church this past week and there is this lovely graduate student new in the congregation." his mother called as she ate her own food. you could see most of the people almost choke on their food but you remained steady in eating.

inside though, your tears were building up behind a wall that you would try to make stand till tonight when you were truly alone.

"yeah?" he asked, not knowing what else to say.

"yes. and she's not seeing anyone right now. her parents agreed to an arranged marriage if you weren't opposing." the killer was that mark didn't say anything. yet, you could hear his knuckles pop as he gripped his steak knife.

the wall was slowly crumbling as you suddenly felt full of the plain watery vegetable. you put your fork down and could only stare at your lap where a napkin laid.

"say something, dude." his brother coughed weakly.

"hell no." mark bursted and everyone could see him try to reel in his words again.

"excuse me?!" Mr. Lee bellowed, causing other dining patrons to look over.

"I'm not going to marry anyone except the love of my life." mark steamed, dropping his utensils.

"you don't know who that is yet, mark. you can't screw around with marriage and get it wrong. especially waste it on a-" mark interrupted his mother, "a what, mom?" he asked and she suddenly lost her words.

silence fell over the table as your napkin had a single ring of wetness appear suddenly. "oh no, not here. not here, sweetie," the gracious lady beside you got up "come on, we're leaving." she said to her husband and lead you out of the restaurant quickly.

as soon as you were out of eye sight, you immediately broke down in ugly tears. "don't listen to them. you are absolutely gorgeous and are a match-made-in-heaven for mark." she rubbed your back sweetly.

"you are so nice to them for no reason. you will be more of a better person than they will ever be-" "we should go. it's gonna get ugly really quickly." Mark's brother nudged you both.

you looked in to see mark and his father standing neck to neck. then as quickly as it started, it ended with mark being the bigger man and leaving. yet, a tearful mr. and mrs. lee following him at a distance.

he wasted no time in taking you in his arms and holding you as you tried your best to cover your cries. "we're going to go before dad follows. i'll stop by tomorrow and check in on you guys. get out of here before dad goes crazy." Mark's brother shouted from his car window.

mark took your hand and dragged you to the car. he put you in and got out of there as quickly as he could.

he was as angry as you had ever seen him. you didn't try to touch him or do anything on the silent ride home. yet, his hand quickly grabbed yours.

"i should have never brought you to them. im so stupid." he groaned as he hit his wheel. "no you're not." you fought with him and he didn't have the heart to go against you.

"you are the best thing that's ever happened to me." he said, a glaze setting into his eyes that you had never seen before.

"and i could never imagine life without you." he swallowed hard and you stayed there in shocked silence.

"you make me better." tears started to roll down his cheeks as he pulled into the driveway.

"please don't cry." yet your empathetic heart made your eyes spill. you both looked at eachother and laughed at the messed up states.

"then you stop crying." he defended and you looked to you lap again. he got out of his side and trailed to yours quickly.

"im gonna show you how much i love you." he said and this sparkle in his eye gleamed so brightly, everyone would've thought he was crazy.

"okay." was all you could respond with, a small smile gracing your perfect face.

he grabbed your legs and carried you all the way to the door. he crossed the doorway and it felt different. it felt more hot and flustered and more passionate.

he closed the door and immediately had you against it. the kisses were hot and filled with lust. yet, you could tell he was getting flustered and trying to rush things. the feeling of two hands on his face made him take a breath of fresh air. "let's just take it slower tonight." you whispered but he heard you loud and clear.

he picked your legs up and put them around his waist, taking his blazer off and throwing it somewhere in the living room. you dress hugged you so perfectly but you wouldn't be needing it anymore tonight.

he navigated the house as if it were you; the back of his hand. your back was now pressed to a cool matress. his hands were rough yet slow as he pulled the black fabric off of your body. his shirt was eventually off and nothing was left between your torsos besides skin.

the moonlight cascading through the window reflected off his chain and it was no longer the soft and loving without a care mark you were used to.

he was going to make you feel his love for you. from the way his fingers played with your clothed core slowly to the heavy breathing between kisses made the night air intoxicating.

his lips were against your neck making imprints of red and purple that were sure to last for a week. both of you rocked against each other in such a rhythm that would have the ocean asking for lessons on harmony.

he picked you up and situated your body at the top of the bed where he wasted no time in shimmying the dress off of your hips so he was met with nothing but you in your panties.

those were long gone as he grabbed and ripped.

"spit." he held his hand out. you obeyed and he wasted no time in running his hand up and down your already wet core.

the kisses were rushed and heated yet you both remembered to slow down as he trailed slowly down your body, kissing every part he could see and praise.

"so beautiful." he whispered, licking a bold stripe up your pussy. you gasped and tried to readjust yourself yet his strong grip on your thighs kept you ground. his arms were hooked around you upper thighs as his hands held your hips and waist down to the bed.

his dark eyes still held that shimmer in them that made you even weaker in the knees.

he wasted none of his time with teasing and gave you exactly what you wanted. "please don't stop." your hands getting lost in his hair.

his hips grinded into the mattress steadily. "im so close already." you whined as he continued his relentless pleasure. "let go for me, baby." he pleaded and if drove you so close to the edge. it made him even more excited as you were blissed out.

it was the perfect time to take advantage of your love, yet, he was going to take care and love you till both of you couldn't.

he took off the confines of his pants and met you at the top of the bed, where you were still completely gone in the euphoric wonderland he pleasured himself to sending you into.

he was slow at first but quickly got lost in this intimate feeling of being so close to you and feeling you in a way no one could relate to.

"faster." you whined but he slowed down. "no, babygirl. we're going to do this right." he cleared the hair from your face and quickly pressed your lips together in a heated kiss.

your leg now over his shoulder as he slowly pounded into you. the knot in his and your stomach felt so much more different and pleasure filled.

your fucked out moans were like angels singing in his ears as your jewelery shined in the moonlight. both of you got sloppier as you were so close to climaxing.

"please cum in me." you begged, grabbing his hand and interlacing your fingers.

he dropped your leg and got closer, sharing a kiss that left both of you breathless. then the explosion. it was as if a bomb of stars had gone off behind your eyelids as you could only feel your back arch with the unexplained feeling of being... full.

both of you laid breathless and sweaty as you tried to regain your composure and drift down to reality.

mark laid on your chest, listening to your heartbeat as he could feel his own match yours.

once he felt your fingers start to dance through his hair, he knew that he needed to be like this forever. he needed you and only you. he couldn't miss this opportunity on his soul mate coming to him from the beginning.

his arms hooked around your body as reality was hitting.

"i love you, y/n." he said and he could hear your heart begin to beat faster.

"not as much as i could ever love you." you pinky traced up his nose bridge as he slowly drifted into sleep holding the one he cares about most...so close.

~~~~~~

"mmmmm steak." he watched as your eyes lit up at the treat in front of you. "it wasn't even enjoyable yesterday. it's amazing today though." mark's brother admitted from right next to him.

his brother and his partner came over to check up and brought take-out steaks to treat everyone with. just a relaxing night at home with everyone he truly loves and can feel the love from.

he watched your happiness and was automatically taken away~

"she's nothing to you!" his mom yelled as you were lead away from the scene.

"she's everything FOR me." mark retaliated. "but we just want what's best for you." his dad pleaded. "but happiness is all I need. why can't you see that and how she makes me the most happy." mark was at his wits ends.

he needed you and was going to have you as long as you both were breathing.

"it's only going to be a problem in the end that we have to clean up." Mrs. Lee had tears coming down her face.

a brief silence plagued the table. "so are you going to show up to the wedding or no?" he asked and if pure shock could kill someone, his parents would have been 6 feet under.

"no." spoken of disbelief.

"i will not bless the marriage!" his father screamed and stood up, causing mark to chest up to his own father. "you don't need to. I am going to marry that girl out there whether it kills me or not." mark pointed to your crying being not even 100 feet away.

"you're a fool if you believe you actually love her. you're young. you don't know what love is!" Mr. Lee had Mark's collar in his hands.

yet mark broke his grip and straightened his collar.

"then I guess I'm a fool for her and her love." and with that he left to comfort you and try to rebuild you diminished character.

~~~

"earth to Handsome." he was shocked back to reality by your smile and everyone's concerned faces. "i thought you stopped breathing or something." his brother laughed as he saw you clutch your chest and laugh lightly.

"scared us there for a minute." his brother's partner laughed along with you.

"so what was so nice going on in la-la land?" you asked taking a bit from your steak. mark shrugged, taking a sip from his wine glass.

"just...thinking." he smiled.

"well don't do that again. you scared me, you fool." you laughed.

he didn't want to admit that he had been daydreaming of you walking down the aisle in the most beautiful of dresses; something that still could never compare to your beauty. but that will be for a later confession at a later date. one where you'd know his secret: there's an engagement ring with your name on it hiding in his dress shoes in his closet. waiting for the right time in the near future.

he could only smile at your cute expression in the moment.

"then i guess i'm a fool for you."

-fin-

**these are all my opinions on how i read the boys and how i watch them interact with others. this is my own personal opinions and are in no way facts unless cited to proof. thank you®

#mark lee bestest boy #nct mark #mark #mark lee #mark lee smut #nct smut #nct fluff #nct angst #nct 127 hard hours #nct 127 smut #nct 127 #mark smut #mark lee angst #mark angst #nct 127 angst

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chemiste · 4 years ago

Text

Voicemail. ~part 2~

a/n : you want it? go get it! heres the second part to voicemail!! I’m thinking a 3rd and final part for this??? if y’all want it tell me! ALSO I’ve linked what the reader is wearing and maybe what others are too so if you see a link thats what it is. also wanted to say thank you so much for the support on this one shot!! i would put those big eye emojis but im typing on a laptop and i dont think O.O is the same....

first part!!!! go read

mah masterlist

“Next on the red carpet is singer/song writer Y/N L/N, wow look at that beautiful dress!! This year at the Grammys she is up for 3 awards, Song of the Year, Best Dance Recording, and Best Solo Pop Artist!”

The interviewer exclaimed excitedly from her podium along side the paparazzi wall. It had been a week since the songs were let out for the world and so there was definitely an electricity in the air at the awards ceremony.

“All you fans are probably watching for the most anticipated performances of tonight! Harry Styles will be singing one of his new songs from his album FineLine! Twitter is going ballistic from the recently leaked songs about is break up with L/N, we all know the cameras will be on her tonight whenever he’s mentioned! Oh look, here she comes now!”

You walked over in your beautiful award dress, safe to say you were the best dress star there. Your hair was done up and the red long dress seemed to flow around you effortlessly as you walked.

“Hello Diane, it’s lovely to see you again.”

You said in a polite voice, smiling to her and the camera, she handed you an extra mic, ready to drown you with questions.

“I’m going to cut to the chase— did you listen to the songs?”

Wow, this lady’s cut throat I’ll give her that.

“Oh yes! I’ve listened to all the albums nominated this year and I’m so excited.”

“Oh I was talking about—“

“I’m so incredibly grateful for the nominations, I put my blood, sweat, and tears into this album and I’m glad the fans love it as much as I do.”

You could see the Diane deflate a little, understanding you’d keep dodging questions about Harry until it was over so she moved on.

“Yes, you’re nominated for Best Dance Recording, the music video for your song Clouds was crazy! How long did it take you to figure out how to dance while flying?!”

You laughed, thinking back to the many rehearsals of choreography on the ground and then being connected to cables and hoisted into the air to perform it.

“A girl never tells her secrets,” you said with a wink.

“Well speaking of flying in a music video, I know one performance tonight will be—“

Cheers and hysteric screaming filled the fan area as someone came on to the carpet.

“Is that? Oh look, Harry Styles enters the stage in a—, my goodness! You and him are matching!”

You couldn’t believe it.

Harry was decked out in a full red suit, hair beautifully fluffed and glimmering in the light. He had red heels that looked like Dorthy’s slippers.

And he had the faintest amount of red lipstick on, making him look like an ethereal being in red.

“Wow, we really are matching.”

You mumbled to yourself, half forgetting you were being filmed.

You turned back to the camera the moment you remembered, making your face emotionless so hopefully the interviewer wouldn’t pick up on your thoughts at the moment.

You quickly thanked her and slipped off into the sea of celebrities, hearing his voice ‘hello love! So happy you could come’ to the fans hoping he would give them a signature.

You entered the award room, looking for your assigned seat. Luckily you were strangely one of the only people in there aside from a few techies working on the stage lights.

“Lady Gaga, Taylor Swift, Selena Gomez, Billie Elish, Kahild… Harry….”

You gasped, basically scoffing at what you saw next.

“Y/N L/N? Are you fucking kidding me?!”

You started to breathe a little faster, “Oh god, I don’t think I can do a whole ceremony next to him, after the whole thing online… and not responding to his texts.”

It’s true, when he had texted you that morning, it took you 5 hours and a shot of tequila to actually open his messages.