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#thank you for letting me scream in your dms all the time. whether it's about our pirate boys or your writing or cancellation hell™️

b1mbodoll · 5 months

Note

Matthe hcs? Or literally any zb1 I BEG

pairings: seok matthew, kim taerae x f! reader

warnings: size kink + breath play + strength kink + impact play + oral + dacryphilia + degradation + sadist! taerae + ruined orgasms + omorashi

💌: chose matt n taerae bc the brain rot has been awful :D also thank u to my beloved lil bella (@bubbleseo) for letting me use an idea we talked abt in dm’s !!! be sure to follow her i <3 her writing ‘nd she has the best thoughts ever ૮꒰。• ༝•꒱ ა ♡ ૮꒰•༝ •。꒱ა

˚ʚ seok matthew ɞ˚

❤︎₊ ⊹ matthew’s strength kink ties into his size kink. he loves how easily he can toss you around because he’s just so much stronger than you <3 he’s hunky and beefy and absolutely ripped, using his strength to his advantage by slapping you across the face when you get a little too mouthy for his taste, eyes watering and cheek stinging. despite the pain you clench your thighs, squirming a little and moaning each time he hits you, becoming more and more desperate to feel his cock inside of you and filling you up

❤︎₊ ⊹ he’s a fan of breath play as well. wraps a strong arm around you, tucked beneath your chin and flexes, restricting your oxygen intake and making you claw at his bicep. you’re never able to make him stop though, forced to gasp and struggle for breath until he decides you’ve had enough, your cunt dripping and chest heaving when he lets you go. matthew’s kind of a meanie, but only sometimes! like when you go down on him, deepthroating his cock ‘nd gagging around him, knowing how much he likes hearing you struggle to take him. if you try pulling off before makin’ him cum he just lays a heavy hand on the back of your head, using his strength to force his length down your throat. he pinches your nose and uses you like a cocksleeve until he blows his load and his cum floods your mouth, not bothering to check whether you’re conscious or not.

❤︎₊ ⊹ while he does enjoy titles like sir or daddy, he prefers hearing you moan his name while he’s fucking you. he likes knowing that he’s the one making you feel good and every little whimper or mewl of “matty please” and breathy moan of his full name makes him crazy, bucking his hips wildly to draw more cries from you and grunting when your hands find their way to his biceps, digging your nails into them and making him hiss, cock twitching inside of you because he loves the pain and little reminders of you littered all over his body

˚ʚ kim taerae ɞ˚

❤︎₊ ⊹ taerae is such a sweetheart but there’s something about him that screams sadist to me. he gets off on your pain and humiliation, cock impossibly hard when you start to cry as he degrades you, calling you his dumb little breeding bitch and slamming his cock into you harshly. each thrust is powerful, the fat tip of his dick kissing your cervix every he pushes his length deep inside and ripping squeals from you.

❤︎₊ ⊹ he likes making you feel so good it hurts, forcing you to cum for him over and over until you’re shaking and tears are streaming down your cheeks. it doesn’t matter how much you beg him to stop because you’re a toy for his pleasure and if he wants to use you until you’re nothin’ but a cockdrunk dummy then that’s what he’s gonna do <3 but if you struggle or push him away, taerae gets even meaner. he’ll bury his face between your thighs and lap at your cunt, wrapping his lips around your clit and bringing you closer to the edge, pulling away right before your orgasm hits to slap your sore pussy, sobs and wails like music to his ears.

❤︎₊ ⊹ there’s nothing he loves more than dumping his piss inside your messy little cunt :( he fucks you from behind, each thrust calculated and powerful, making you sigh and whine softly. you’re so dumb for thinkin’ he’s nice enough to fuck you without an ulterior motive, and it shows when your pussy clenches around him as your orgasm washes over you, pushing yourself back onto him and focusing on making him cum. he lets you enjoy yourself for a bit until the pressure on his bladder is too much to bear and he’s draping himself over you before letting go. his piss is warm and you can feel the steady stream splash inside of you, moaning loudly at the feeling. “you’re so fucking nasty,” he spits, teeth clenched as his hips stutter, pelvis wet with cum and piss. “aren’t you ashamed? can’t believe my princess enjoys bein’ used like this.” taerae’s words have your lip wobbling, eyes squeezed shut as you try not to cry but he doesn’t stop, he won’t until you’re sobbing so hard your body shakes. “this is what you were made for, isn’t that right?” you nod in reply, cunt clenching around him and milking his cock until you’re so full his piss leaks out of you, pooling on the bedsheets below.

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nebulousbrainsoup · 7 months

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ORION!!! i wasn’t sure if i should do this over text or just fome into ur ask box but!!! i hope you’re enjoying heartbreaker so far!! with all of the teasers and the first chapter out please let me know your thoughts hehe i’m intrigued to know how you think this is going to play out <3

(also thank u sm for reading & ur feedback 🥹)

solar!!! honestly either works; my dms are always open for my lovely moots <33 i'm enjoying heartbreaker soso much!! we're three teasers and a chapter in and there's already so much drama i'm hooked. my brain is going absolutely wild with theories, but none of them are solid enough for me to confidently say "this is how i think things will go" just yet. i will absolutely scream about them under the cut for you tho mwah <33 also sorry this took me so long it's midterm szn

(contains spoilers for heartbreaker; go check it out!)

OKAY SO i have two primary theories

first, that y/n is going to end up using jisung to get back at yeonjun some way (whether this is intentional or not, i have not decided) by either leading him on or actually cheating on jun with ji. it would absolutely break my heart but i'm a sucker for angst!!

the other is that jisung is going to be the beacon for y/n to finally leave their toxic ass bf!!! which would be ideal. i do think there would be a bit of back & forth tho just to make it hurt a lil more, but that might just be bc again, i'm addicted to angst ^^;

but i truly do not know bc things are already so messy in the best way!! i can't wait to see what you do with this i'm so excited hehet~ <33

(also ur so welcome i love screaming about fics all the time so <3)

#neb.inbox!#neb.moot <3 #solar 🌅#nebulous rambles #heartbreaker #han jisung #neb.rec

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onenavi · 9 months

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INTRODUCTION: hi friends! my name is mama ari, or ari for short . . . and i gained this lovely title because i am a stay at home mother to two beautiful girls ! i spend (if not all) of my time with my kids, and then spend my evenings doing hobbies like gaming or writing! --- -- and if you'd ever like to chat via discord, i'll happily share it with mutuals!

HIGHLY SELECTIVE: to summarize, i'm shy as heck. i follow blogs from fandoms i am super familiar with, & follow mutuals of my good friends ! with becoming a parent, i have lost my ability to converse like an adult (but if anyone else speaks fluent toddler/baby, PLEASE hit me up because i'm dying for mom friends!) --- -- so i apologize if i'm awkward to timid to ooc convos !

ACTIVITY: as mentioned above, i am a full time parent that is looking after two babies, my concentration is basically at 0 by the time bed-time comes around . . . so i'm really sorry if i've left our threads on hold for a bit, but hope you understand that throughout the day i think about my blog & threads whilst being baby trapped !

DNI & DRAMA: i don't have a dni. as mentioned above, i'm a mom to two kids, and my time on the internet writing is solely for positive enjoyment. if my dash becomes a place where i'm uncomfortable and frustrated with what i see, i make my space (whether it be soft or hard blocking) & continue enjoying my hobby with a smaller following. if we were mutuals and i soft block, i mean no harm to you --- i just wanted to do what was best for me, and my mental well-being.

TAGGING / TRIGGERS: any triggering content will be tagged 2 ways, and will look like such: insect tw & insect / , if i frequently reblog something that is triggering to you that has not been tagged i ask that you PLEASE message me. i want my posts to not cause anyone discomfort or distress, and i want to be accommodable however i can. as for personal triggers: I HAVE A SEVERE PHOBIA OF TEETH IMAGRY/BLOODY TEETH. this also follows with extractions, loose teeth - just everything that has to do with the bones in your mouth. so please, if you can, tags your aesthetics or posts containing focuses on teeth, thank you 🥲🤍

FORMATTING: for purely aesthetic purposes, i use a spacing generator, coloured text & use small font. if you have poor eye sight or would rather keep my threads/responses simpler — please do not feel hesitant to message me! i am so happy to accommodate my writing partners, and i want us to have a great experience writing together.

NSFW: although aerith is 22 years old throughout the remake & original game, i am not comfortable writing smut/nsfw content. while some images i reblog could be suggestive, this is not an open invitation to send me suggestive/vulgar asks or themed threads. if this changes i will make a huge edit here — though as of now, let's keep nsfw off this blog.

DUPLICATES: aerith gainsborough has been a woman crush of mine for years, i admire aerith so much and will always follow any aerith/multi with her as a muse to encourage my fellow ff7 flower girl writers. (for the comfort of others, i do not follow first, but i promise you if you follow me i am following back and RUNNING to your dm's to scream.)

MAINS/AFFILIATES & SHIPPING: i do practice mains on this blog and are very open & welcoming to establishing more mains with various characters! i think my exceptions are the same as others: we chat regularly, we are threading, etc. 𓆩♡𓆪 as for shipping, i do not romantically ship aerith/sephiroth, aerith/hojo, or aerith/(any)turks. while i am excited to explore dynamics & relationships (that arent romantic) with these characters listed above, i am just not comfortable with the idea of these ships. but i am VERY open to aerith/cloud, aerith/zack, aerith/tifa. ♡ oh and this blog is multi-ship hehe.

#╭・🌿・𓂃❨˖₊⊹ 𝖱𝖴𝖫𝖤𝖲 .#UPDATED: MARCH 26 '24

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moonchildstyles · 2 years

Text

blush

y/n is a makeup artist and she doesn't think she's ever had a better halloween

wordcount: 26.5k+

—————

Harry Lambert wants to message you!

The notification pinged at the top of (Y/N)'s phone, the familiar Instagram icon shining in a rainbow gradient. It wasn't too odd that someone was requesting to DM her professional page, but it was the name that caught her eye. She knew she recognized it, whether it be through the chatter in the beauty world or simply someone she used to know, she couldn't put her finger on it. That's what made her open this request amid the couple of dozen from strangers that still went unanswered.

Hello! I'm a personal stylist and I have a client with a couple of important events scheduled on October 30th and 31st and we were looking for a makeup artist for the looks we had planned. I came across your work and from what I've seen, I think you'd be perfect for what we're looking for! If you're interested, let me know and we can talk about details!

If not for the familiar name (and shining blue checkmark), (Y/N) would have written off the message completely. The lack of details made her suspicious, but it was easy enough to swipe to his profile and snoop on the legitimacy of his claim. A quick scroll of his feed showcased editorial-like photographs, some in subdued filters while others were vivid and surreal, but each one showcased bold makeup looks accompanying Gucci-esque, avant-garde style choices made by the man himself. While the pictures were beautiful, she didn't spot anything recognizable that would explain why she knew his name.

Until she found a photo of Harry Styles draped in a Gucci suit at the Brits.

That's how she knew him.

Scrolling further, she found the now iconic leather suit Harry Styles wore to the Grammy's, green feather boa and all posted to the feed. Now that she knew what to look for, the further and further down she looked at Harry Lambert's posts, more and more of Mr. Styles could be found on his page. It all made sense now, how she had heard this name before.

His name had been printed in Vogue, GQ, Cosmo, Allure literally anywhere that paid any attention to fashion and how Harry Styles was setting trends and shifting the view of what clothing represented in terms of individuality and self-expression. Each one mentioned Harry Lambert, the same person that was in her DM's currently, and his eccentric styling choices.

And he wanted her to be a part of 'upcoming events' for a client of his.

Swiping away from the profile, (Y/N) opened up the awaiting message. Underneath Mr. Lambert's username, a small green dot resided, indicating he was online.

Thank you so much for reaching out! I'm definitely interested!! What type of event is this for?

—————

It was raining when (Y/N) stepped out of LaGuardia airport, the holding area for waiting Ubers crowded with both tourists and true New Yorkers ready to hit the road. The difference was easy to spot in the way she and her assistant, Vera, fit in much better with the brightly dressed tourists that held wonder in their eyes over what the city less than ten miles away held, while the people returning home looked ready to scream if one more tourist said anything about the Statue of Liberty.

New York was a definite change to the L.A. area that typically drove (Y/N)'s portfolio.

Nonetheless, she couldn't be more excited to be here. After getting more details from Mr. Lambert about what kind of event he was wanting her assistance on, she had an out of body experience when he revealed it was for a pair of Harry Styles concerts scheduled for the Halloween weekend, affectionately dubbed 'Harryween'. But, (Y/N) remained as professional as she could while asking for more information and eventually passing along her professional number so they could speak over the phone.

Since the event was so far out at the time, there were only so many details to be shared concerning what kind of costumes Mr. Styles was going to wear along with the preferred makeup that he wanted to go along with the looks. It was then she learned that not only was she being called in to serve Mr. Styles, but the rest of his band of six other musicians, making it a two person job with Vera needing to tag along. Most of the remaining information given was time and place with a few mockups of what the costumes were to look like when they were finally finished (the Dorothy plan was her personal favorite). But that had been months ago, just before Harry Styles embarked on his Love On Tour run around America.

Today, Mr. Styles and his team were to be in New York for a few days, readying for a pair of shows at Madison Square Garden before going on the road again (only to return a week later for another show at the same venue, then return again at the end of the month for Harryween). When corresponding with Mr. Lambert, they decided this would be a good time for her to come out, meet with them, and get an idea of what she was getting herself into. The costumes had been finalized only days prior to their scheduled meeting, the garments being shipped out from Alessandro Michele himself, Gucci labels stitched inside every custom piece, making it much easier to get a clear idea of how Mr. Styles wanted his face painted.

She had been floored when they offered to fly her out—not only once, but twice for both the meeting and the shows themselves!—and put her up in a hotel for the time being, especially when she mentioned she would be needing another person's help, but it was as if the extra cost didn't even register. Mr. Lambert had only sent back a 'Perfect!!' accompanied by a grinning emoji, the idea of another body being added to the mix never swaying him.

That was how she found herself with shaky hands wrapped around the handle of her suitcase, with native Californian Vera beside her shivering from the chilled drizzle raining from the sky.

"This is why I never wanted to come to New York—even for fashion week," Vera chattered next to her, huddled close as if layers of clothing she put between herself and the forty degree weather weren't enough.

"You'll be fine," (Y/N) laughed, stepping out of the way as a man who looked too preoccupied with the phone in his hand to be courteous of those around him raced towards his waiting Uber, "We'll be inside most of the time anyway, then we'll be home again by Friday, where it'll be seventy-five degrees and sunny for you."

Vera grumbled something about it not being soon enough under her breath, something (Y/N) ignored in favor of checking on her phone for the status of her ride. After finding they still had another five minutes of waiting (and Vera's complaining) before their driver would be here, another text from Mr. Lambert came through.

I hope you had a good flight and welcome to love on tour! Let me know when you and Vera are settled and Harry and I will come by and meet you both! x

The fact he welcomed her as if she were a real part of this production drew a glowing smile on (Y/N)'s features. Since being asked to be apart of the project, (Y/N) went out of her way to learn more about what she was now playing a small role in. She kept up with each show, noting the evolving uniform Mr. Styles wore on stage and the absolute showmanship that went into every, single concert. It was an honor to be a part of something that was so clearly impactful for everyone involved, especially Mr. Styles himself and the thousands of adoring fans that flooded the venues every night.

Sending him back a quick message, (Y/N) suddenly felt light on her feet again as if the six hour flight didn't happen and she wasn't completely thrown off by the new timezone they entered. She was about to meet two of her newest idols and officially join a production that had wiggled its way into her heart the more she learned about it. There was no room for low energy when her brain was already racing with what kind of looks she was going to have the privilege of painting onto Mr. Styles' face.

"I think that's us," (Y/N) peeped through her smile, spotting what looked like it could be the 2009 Nissan Altima that was tasked with picking them up (she had to Google what those even looked like when she received what make and model to be looking out for).

Vera jumped at the opportunity to sit in a warm car as if she'd been in the rain for longer than the seven minutes they spent on the corner. She all but dragged (Y/N) to the car, popping her head through the rolled down window and double checking their driver's name before stashing their luggage in the trunk.

"Finally," she sighed, sinking into the faux leather seat, warm air pulsing right in her face.

"Are you not even a little excited to be here?" (Y/N) questioned, tone light and teasing despite the fact she was now getting a little worried Vera wasn't as happy as she was.

"You know I am," she said, rolling her head on the rest behind it, "this is an insane opportunity, and we get to work with Harry fucking Styles. Of course, I'm excited, I just don't like the cold and I'm always heavily reminded of that the second I step out of California."

"Well, just pretend like you don't know its cold out when you meet them. I don't want either of them to think we don't want to be here," (Y/N) directed, grabbing for her phone to double check the room reservation for their hotel.

Vera agreed with a sigh, keening like a cat under the warm air blowing through the cab, leaving (Y/N) to look out in wonder at the slowly approaching city.

—————

"Is that them right there?"

(Y/N)'s followed the discreet point of Vera's finger, finding a pair of men huddled in a corner of the hotel lobby. One was clearly Mr. Lambert with his head of bleach blonde cropped hair, beaded necklaces around his neck and nails a brightly colored pink as he gesticulated around his words. The other was much more quietly dressed, only a pair of black athletic shorts (in this kind of weather, she had to assume there was something a little insane about that choice) and a heavy, baggy hoodie with the word Pleasing scrawled over it in white ink. A faded blue hat concealed what she was sure was a wave of iconic brown curls underneath, the blue of the cap matching the checkerboard pattern on his dirty Vans.

That was Harry Styles.

A folder full of blank face charts as well as a few marked with her ideas began to shake against her chest, her hands a little unsteady now that he was right in front of her. For the brief moment she had left before Vera would undoubtedly tug her towards them, (Y/N) allowed herself to feel all the nerves and anticipation she wanted now that she was going to meet someone she had become enamored with in the last months. She'd never met anyone as important as him—as widely known and loved as Harry Styles himself—while working in California, despite the promises that had been made that L.A. was the land of stars that were just aching for a so-called 'glam squad'. And, she definitely never met anyone who just seeing photos of made her heart bubble.

But, once those seconds passed, that reprieve she was offered just before Vera's grip tightened on her elbow, she reminded herself that this was her client.

Until the moment the curtains dropped on October thirty-first, and his show was over, he was going to be her client. He wasn't going to be Harry Styles, the man who's Instagram she shamelessly stalked since the day she was offered the job, the man who's tour she was more than up to date with, and who's discography was no doubt going to be in the top slots of her year end streaming stats. He was going to be Mr. Styles, a kind and well-paying client who wanted the best of her services for two very important events in his career.

Though the smallest part of her brain continued to rattle as she heard Vera whisper I think it is before resolutely tugging (Y/N) to the concealed corner of their hotel lobby, she took in a deep breath and boxed away all of her nerves and excitement as best she could. That box was then shoved to the furthest corner of her mind, only to be unpacked when she was safely by herself and could properly freak out.

Mr. Lambert noticed them first, falling silent as he whipped his head in their direction. A bright smile and a wave greeted them, clearly recognizing (Y/N). Mr. Styles was quick to find who his colleague was distracted by, his own tanned face breaking into a soft-lipped smile, dimples in his cheeks, once she caught sight of the two girls approaching.

"(Y/N), love," Mr. Lambert beamed when they drew close enough, reaching out towards her as if they were old friends, "How was the flight?"

Vera's hand on her arm slipped away as Mr. Lambert drew (Y/N) in for a friendly hug, careful of the folder tucked into her chest. Some of the tension glittering in her spine dwindled at the warm welcome, a quick reminder that as much as she admired them, in that moment, she was a colleague to them.

"It was really good—long, but we made it," she smiled, drawing away to allow him to see the matching smile on her face, "Thank you for asking, Mr. Lambert."

His features pinched at her words, brows drawing together in displeasure, "Don't have to call me that—I'd prefer if you didn't actually. Making me sound old. Harry is just fine, darling."

She resisted the urge to apologize, reminding herself she was a colleague and not someone she trying to impress into being her friend. Instead, she nodded her head and said, "Okay, Harry."

At the sound of her words, the man beside them perked up. "Hm?" he hummed, responding to the call of his name.

"She was talking to me, Sue—not everything's about you, you know," Harry (Lambert, that is. She realized this was going to be hard to keep straight) teased, eyes narrowed towards Harry (Styles).

"You're so mean to me," he grumbled in response, a sly smile coloring his features as he bumped Harry L. with his shoulder. Directing his attention to (Y/N), Mr. Styles stuck his hand out for her to shake, "(Y/N), right?"

"That's me," she beamed, resisting the urge to rock on the balls of her feet like a schoolgirl in puppy love, "It's nice to finally meet you, Mr. Styles."

All the stories about him and the relentless eye contact he favored, (Y/N) found to be true in that moment. None of the photographs or videos did the color of his eyes justice, the green of his iris floating like a lilypad in his sclera. It was grounding, anchoring her to the moment, at the same time his attention took her somewhere else entirely.

"Th-This," she stuttered, gesturing to her left where Vera was patiently waiting, though (Y/N) was sure there were thousands of teasing remarks in her head waiting to bubble up the second they were alone, "is Vera. She's going to be helping out with the rest of the band and everything else for the shows."

Mr. Styles was the first to greet her with a warm smile on his face, reaching a tan hand out to shake. (Y/N) listened to his muttered greeting, the words a quiet rumble in their concealed corner before Mr. Lambert offered a brief hug as a welcome gesture. She took a step back as Vera bubbled her thanks for the opportunities and excitement for being here, completely disregarding the sour mood she had landed in New York with.

"There's a little cafe here at the hotel," Mr. Lambert said, addressing the group of them, "and I was thinking we could sit down and discuss ideas there. H has to get to soundcheck in a couple of hours, but I think that should be enough time to get some plans made, right?"

Mr. Styles—H—nodded his head, his eyes flitting over to (Y/N), "Need to be out of here by two-thirty at the latest, I think. Is that enough time for you?"

(Y/N) perked up at his attention, clutching her face charts tighter to her chest, "Yeah, that's fine! I brought a couple of ideas already, so we'll have somewhere to start, hopefully."

Mr. Lambert chattered off a perky Perfect! before peering down the lobby, searching for the directions for the so-called cafe. He herded them in the right direction, Mr. Styles falling in step beside his stylist, asking him something about the final touches on the night's outfit. Vera was quick to grab for (Y/N)'s elbow, her eyes wide with a sly smile curling on her lips.

"What was that back there?" she whispered, grip pulsing on (Y/N)'s arm as if that would extract more information from her, "I've never seen you get all stuttery like that around clients."

"I was just—I mean... He was—"

"Oh my god, do you like him?"

(Y/N)'s feet stuttered, her toe catching on the expensive marble printed tile under her feet, "Vera, be quiet! I was just really looking forward to this and it took me off guard that he was right there, you know?"

Vera let out a disbelieving hum as the entrance to the cafe came into view. "Sure," she smiled with a shake of her head.

The cafe was cute, (Y/N) decided when they stepped into the Parisian-esque set up that went with the French vibed hotel. The hostess came in the form of a barista behind a pastry counter, machines for any kind of coffee to be dreamt up gleaming behind the set up. Others dressed in the same cranberry hues of the uniform scuttled around the almost-empty cafe, the only occupied tables coming in the form of one clearly hungover woman nursing a black coffee, and the other housing someone talking loudly on a Zoom call with the volume all the way up. Apparently, they were planning a family reunion, but Aunt Beatrice was still pissed that Gwenyth didn't ask her to cater her wedding.

Interesting.

A sign by the entrance instructed guest to seat themselves and order at the counter when ready. Mr. Lambert walked in like he knew the place well, picking one of the tables in the corner of the set up, furthest from the entrance and from the Zoom call as they could be. (And, (Y/N) figured, away from prying eyes that might notice that this was literally Harry Styles and possibly leak his location as well as ask for photographs).

"This alright?" he asked, turning to Mr. Styles.

Tugging on his hat as if to lower it over his features, Harry nodded, sinking into one of the seats tucked into the corner of the boothed side of the table. He offered a small smile with raised brows as (Y/N) approached with Vera on her arm, a silent question of if they were alright with the placement as well.

"This is perfect! (Y/N), you first," Vera chirped, cutting (Y/N) off before she could even fathom responding.

Though it was gentle, Vera still shoved her towards the seat across from Mr. Styles, making it clear what she thought of (Y/N)'s excuse of being nothing more than excited at the business opportunity of working with him. He only gave her a soft smile as she settled in across from him, (Y/N) taking in a breath before dropping her eyes to the folder she laid on the table in front of her.

"I'm going to go up and order really quick, did anyone want anything?" Mr. Lambert asked as he stood at the end of the table, his bag tucked under his arm as he gestured behind him with a jerk of his thumb.

Vera didn't even finish dropping into her seat beside (Y/N) when she heard the words. She immediately popped up, offering to go along with him to order for both she and (Y/N).

"Croissant and chai latte, right?" she smiled at (Y/N). All that was missing was the sly wink she knew she would have given if not for the man sitting on the other side of the table. (Y/N) gave a still nod, feeling her blood pressure rise knowing that she was about to be alone with Harry Styles.

She distantly heard Mr. Lambert verify Harry's order—a plain black coffee—before their companions left to the front counter. (Y/N) had always prided herself on how easy she was able to pick up small talk and form a true conversation out of the topics; the beauty industry forced a lot of close contact with clients right up in her face, it would be odd and uncomfortable if she didn't find any minuscule topic to blabber about while blending eyeshadow. But in that moment, she'd never been more blank-minded, no matter the goldmine of topics carved into her brain that pertained to Harry Styles himself and all of the wonderful things she had learned about him in her research process.

But, only a beat passed before she heard the same rumbling voice from earlier pipe up from right across from her, drawing (Y/N)'s eyes away from the pastry counter their friends were browsing.

"Thank y'for coming out, by the way. I jus' realized I never properly thanked you," Harry smiled, dimples deep in his cheeks.

"Of course," she beamed, hiding her restless fingers under the table where she fiddled with her polished nails, "This is really an amazing opportunity to work with you and be a part of your tour, so thank you, Mr. Styles."

He waved off her formality, "Don't need to call me that. Jus' call me H, please."

(Y/N) remembered reading that most of his friends called him by that moniker. Though she was sure she was getting way too ahead of herself, her heart still skipped a beat at the implication.

"He and I had been looking for someone to come do the makeup for tonight for a few weeks before I found your page," he continued, having no idea how her nervous system was buzzing under her skin. The eye contact she was sure she was going to have to train herself to get used to, especially when he was in her makeup chair, returned. Lillypad green bright against his dark, curling lashes. "I love your work, especially the editorial things I've seen on your website. I was so happy to hear that y'were interested in helping us out and willing to travel cross-country for this. 'M really excited to work with you, so, really, thank y'for being here, (Y/N)."

So, it had been him that had found her page and liked it so much that he passed it along to his stylist to message her. Now, if she was concerned about her heartrate before, she worried she was going to have to have Vera call 911 after this.

There was something about the idea of him searching through his Instagram and passing on much more established and well-known artists before finding her page. He took the time to pursue her feed before clicking the link in her bio to see more examples of her art. And he liked what he found. Though she was sure they were not at all on the same level, the fact that there could be even a small amount of admiration on his end for the things she put into the world the same way she admired everything about his decade-long career was enough to make her want to scream into her pillow in her suite upstairs.

"Of course, H. There's no where else I'd rather be."

His grin widened at the emphasis on his nickname, a beat passing as his eyes dropped to his phone he had laying face down on the table. "Has Lambert shown y'any pictures of the costumes yet? We jus' got them in a couple days ago."

She perked up at the mention of the outfits she'd been eager to see the final product of since she was shown those mock-ups so long ago. "No, he hasn't. I didn't know you got them in already," she bubbled off, "Do you love them?"

"I do, yeah," he responded, reaching for his phone before unlocking it with a swipe, "They're everything I pictured when I talked to Alessandro about them."

At the casual mention of the creative director of Gucci, (Y/N)'s smile widened. How cool must it be to be friends with people like him.

Harry swiveled his phone around to show her the photo displayed on the screen. A yellow, velour covered mannequin was set in the center of the picture with a blue gingham dress draped over the form. This was the Dorothy outfit they had proposed, she realized. The idea had come a long way from the mockup she had seen.

The details were extraordinary, adding to the overall look with things she wouldn't have even thought to add. From what she could decipher through the pixels, it looked like there were glittering strawberries printed over the fabric, breaking up the baby blue pattern of the gingham that was quintessential to Dorothy glam. White detailing was placed all throughout the costume to the white, puffy, bloomers under the dress and the open collar at the top. Crystalline buttons were placed down the front, stopping at the high waist of the dress where a bow was stationed to be right under Harry's chest when he put it on.

"That's so cute," she praised, jaw dropped and eyes wide as she directed her attention to him behind his phone, "The little strawberries are everything."

"Yeah?" Harry smiled proudly, angling the phone just enough for the both of them to see as he leant across the table, "Those were m'idea." He swiped his finger across the screen, pulling up a photo of a pair of boots with red crystal detailing. "I've got these shoes to go with it, and a pair of red tights 'm going to wear under it all. I don't have a picture of the bow, but I got one made from the extra fabric to put in m'hair and then I think Lambert is having one of his assistants put together a basic for me to carry m'Toto dog in, too."

(Y/N) pictured all the details as best she could, finding the entire look come together. Now that she had more information, all she wanted to do was break out her face charts and improve upon the ideas she'd had prior to coming out to New York.

They were going to need more blush, that was for sure.

Just as more praises were to fall from her lips, Vera and Mr. Lambert returned to their table with careful hands full of pastries and coffee. "Are you showing her the costumes, H?" he asked, setting a vegan spinach quiche and black coffee in front of H.

"Yeah," Harry smiled, angling the phone to show Mr. Lambert, "Was jus' telling her about the bag you and the girls are putting together for m'Toto puppy."

"Oh!" he sounded as he fell into his chair across from Vera, "Don't let me forget to ask Claudia how that's coming along before we get to the venue."

H only nodded his head before mumbling that he would set a reminder right then. Vera slid a croissant and the latte in front of (Y/N) in the silence, a heart having been created in the foam of her chai latte.

"Toto?" she asked, settling in at (Y/N)'s side, "Like the Wizard of Oz?"

"Exactly!" Mr. Lambert smiled over the rim of his coffee cup, "Night one is going to be Wizard of Oz themed with H being Dorothy and the rest of the band dressed as the other characters. Night two we're doing an Italian, glamorous take on clowns, right?"

"Mhm," H nodded, showing the other side of the table another set of photographs from his camera roll, "'S not scary or anything like that. We're going for more ruffles than murderous tendencies, I'd say."

Vera lent in close to (Y/N)'s side in search of a view of Harry's phone. On the screen was the same velour mannequin from the Dorothy pictures, now donned in a white, fluffy mass of lace and organza with tulle accents. It was a suit this time, full paints and a blouse with a black moon and stars stitched across the chest. At the neck there was a full collar piece, lace and sparkles and more ruffles tying the look together with a pair of flat lace up sneakers that matched the cream of the costume.

During the same conversation Mr. Lambert had introduced the Dorothy idea to her, he had mentioned they still had the other set of costumes in the works, nothing too concrete other than Harry wanted something completely different than what people were expecting (she remembers a Rocky Horror Picture Show set up being tossed out there before never hearing of it again). This was definitely not what she was expecting would have come together, but she loved it. It was different, but still so delicate that it seemed perfectly Harry and perfect for the Love on Tour she'd been an avid follower of.

"Is the whole thing lace?" (Y/N) asked, flicking her gaze to Harry.

"Most of the top is, yeah," he explained, nodding his head as he took his phone back, "But the pants are made of more satin than anything else. Figured that half needed to be a little less see-through."

(Y/N) had to make a choice not to think so hard about that comment. Not when it was already hard enough to remember he was a client.

A lopsided smile curled his lips, only a single dimple denting his cheek as he locked his phone and set it to the side. Tracing his eyes between the two women before him, Harry reached for the fork beside his slice of quiche, "Do y'have a favorite between the two?"

Though the mannequin had nothing on Harry's physique (there was no way the shoulders were as broad as the man before her), just the idea of the Dorothy dress stretching across the width of his body was enough to earn it first place in her eyes. And the strawberries were adorable.

"I think the Wizard of Oz set is perfect," (Y/N) shared, absently reaching for her latte to warm her fidgeting palms, "There's so much we can do with that. I have a few face charts already made up, but now seeing the costume, I feel like we could do a little more."

"You've got face charts already done up?" Mr. Lambert questioned, picking at the flaky layers of his own croissant, "What do you have?"

Though she was nervous to share her ideas with people she admired, (Y/N) had never been more excited to pull out these face charts. She just wanted to make everything perfect for these shows and for Harry.

Especially for H. She wasn't going to let him down.

—————

The soft sound of a the default iPhone alarm interrupted (Y/N) as she explained the diffused blush shape she wanted to go with for the clown costuming. The table fell silent as all eyes were directed to H's orange cased phone, the alarm he had set to not only remind Mr. Lambert to contact his assistant, but to act as a warning for the last five minutes of time they had left before he needed to head to the venue, started going off in the cafe.

"Don't forget to text Claudia," H absently muttered to his stylist as he reached for his phone, snoozing the alarm before giving his attention back to (Y/N) and the notes she had scribbled on the face chart. He gave her an apologetic smile, "Sorry to cut this short, I've got to get back soon."

"It's okay, I totally understand," she smiled, reaching for the completed face charts scattered over their table, "We still got a lot done."

Not only was both of Harry's looks in the final stages (Mr. Lambert wanted a breakdown of the exact wear time of the shades she was thinking before giving full approval) but Vera and Mr. Lambert had finished up more than half of the band's looks with (Y/N) popping in every now and then with her own expertise or suggestion. If Vera's plan had been to have (Y/N) work almost completely alone with H, she had succeeded, and (Y/N) was in no position to lie and say she was mad about it.

The entire meeting had gone like a dream once (Y/N) settled, falling into the work that fulfilled her. Nothing was more exciting than having a client add their own twists and flare to the look (within reason, of course, something that Beverly Hills housewives trying to look thirty years younger didn't realize). Harry was excited about each of the things she offered, and even pushed it further with a request for more of the bright red blush to be applied to the apples of his cheeks when dressed as Dorothy, and his band to have dramatic swipes of color applied to their faces for the jester costumes.

She was sad that it was cut short just as they were working on his own paint for the second Harryween show.

"Are y'coming to the show tonight?" Harry asked, handing her one of the face charts that had drifted to his side of the table. His multi-colored nails shown in the low lights of the cafe, but (Y/N) couldn't even try to decipher what shades he had used when their fingertips brushed as she took the page from him.

His skin was undeniably warm against her's, fingertips soft though tough enough to be strumming his guitar every night. The contact lasted for something of a second, but felt as if she had chugged down another chai latte, this one infused with a shot of espresso and the same red glitter that accented his Dorothy costume.

(Y/N) hadn't even been aware that her response was lagging until Vera elbowed her, "Are we?"

"Going to the show? I-I don't think so," (Y/N) stuttered, occupying her hands with the shuffling of her face charts.

"Do y'want to?

Eyes widening at his words, (Y/N) drew her attention from the folder to match the unfailing eye contact she was slowly getting used to. "Hm?"

"Did y'want to come to the show tonight? I know the guy playing, so I think I could pull some strings," he smiled, a lopsided curve with an amused glimmer in his green eyes.

"Harry, that's so—Thank you," (Y/N) sputtered, her heart rising to her throat at idea of getting to go to one of the shows she'd only seen videos of before. The ass speech only got funnier the more she heard it. "Vera can come with me, right?"

"Of course, yeah," Harry nodded, his smile wide on his raspberry lips. With another glance at his phone, his grin shrunk the smallest bits at the edges, "We've really got to go, but I'll see you tonight, right? If 'm not able to, I'll have Lambert send y'the details on where to go and everything, yeah?"

(Y/N) didn't even attempt to hold back her smile as they rose to their feet in the now empty cafe (the family reunion guy left about an hour earlier, thank goodness). "Yeah, that's perfect," she breathed, nudging Vera gently with the point of her elbow.

"Yeah, thank you, H," Vera bubbled off, heeding (Y/N)'s cue.

With the smile that H gave them before being herded to the lobby with the help of Mr. Lambert, (Y/N) felt like she was floating as she followed after them. Short goodbyes were shared at the entrance of the hotel, Mr. Lambert doling out hugs to the girls while H kept quiet with a shake of their hands though his hold lingered on (Y/N)'s.

As she watched them leave through the glass doors out to the New York sidewalk, all (Y/N) could think about was what she was going to wear tonight.

—————

With the lights down and fans screaming all around her, (Y/N) almost completely missed the sound of the Bukowski poem being recited through the loud speakers.

The band she would be working with closely at the end of the month filtered on stage, taking their respective spots before the beginning of Golden ticked through the arena.

It was then that a panel in the middle of the round opened up and revealed Harry dressed in an all black suit, chest left bare with the sleeves of his jacket decked out in feathers. A dimpled grin morphed his features into something almost god-like in the stage lighting, a guitar in his hands as he sauntered to one of the four microphones set up.

He was more than what she had seen in videos, completely transfixing before he even opened his mouth and even more enchanting when he finally did. Confidence radiated from each of his movements. He knew what he was doing and he was going to give this entire arena the show of their lives.

God, (Y/N) couldn't wait for October thirtieth.

—————

(Y/N) could only laugh at Vera's complaining as they stepped out of the Uber, rounding to the trunk where their kits were housed.

"How did it only get colder from the last time we were here?!" Vera whined, making a show of tugging out her case as if it weighed one thousand pounds and not ten.

"Because its almost winter, maybe?" (Y/N) quipped, aware of the string of fans dressed to the nines walking past them with prying gazes.

Despite Vera's complaints about the weather, it seemed she was the only one put off by the chill in the air. In honor of the 'fancy dress' code for the event, fans were decked out in costumes with no other purpose than to look as glamorous or spooky as possible for Harryween.

Many renditions of Harry Styles himself passed by, people dressed in high-waisted trousers and billowing blouses, leather suits with feather boas, or simply something seventies inspired with leathers and glitter draped over their forms. Others had taken cues from his music and videos, dressing as some of the girls from the Watermelon Sugar video, or even the fish from the Adore You shoot. More than one flower-powered hippie and glamorous zombie crossed their paths, trails of flowers and feathers were left on the sidewalk of the arena where everyone was lining out front for their pit tickets (Y/N) was sure they fought hard for.

Looking at the professional, all black outfit that adorned her form, (Y/N) wished she had followed her instinct and just worn the costume she brought along. Everyone looked so wonderful and she was sad she wasn't a part of the vision for the night.

Following the same directions given the first time they were at this venue, (Y/N) and Vera were escorted through a back entrance through the arena to where Harry and the band were awaiting their call time to get ready.

The Garden was celebrating the occasion with Halloween decorations posted through out the halls, more than one sign decreeing to "Trick or Treat People with Kindness" catching her attention.

"Have you talked to him at all since we left?" Vera whispered, her voice concealed from the sound of her heels clacking against the concrete floor.

"Who?" (Y/N) peeped, keeping her eyes trained on the security guard guiding them through the twisting hallways.

"Harry," Vera said, her inflection practically saying duh.

(Y/N) shrugged, "A little, yeah. Mostly right after we'd left he just asked how the show was and how the flight home went, but I haven't heard much from him since. Why?"

Vera only hummed in response, the same sly smile on her features that she always got now when Harry was brought up. (Y/N) hadn't been able to live down the moment when Vera caught her going through his photographer's Instagram in search of photos from the tour she hadn't seen yet.

Though it felt like they had walked miles in circles, the security guard finally led them to the main stage area. The last time she had seen this place, it was packed with people yelling, screaming, and singing at the top of their lungs while Harry Styles' presence filled in every inch of the limited free space left between patrons. Now, it was completely empty, a traditionally styled stage positioned on the other end of the arena replacing the trailing catwalks and the round he spent his time on the last time she was here.

In the middle of it all were three people, one that she recognized easily in a navy blue baby-tee with a smiley face printed on the chest, while the other two were still a mystery so far away. After thanking the security guard, he made his quick exit, a crackling coming from the handheld radio hooked into one of his belt loops before he disappeared down the stretch of hallways.

The static sound drew the attention of the three others, a bright smile gleaming on a familiar face once he realized who was here.

"(Y/N)!"

It took everything in her not to melt at the excitement he displayed at seeing her again. It was hard not to get infatuated with someone like Harry, and to have even a fraction of that reciprocated made her want to scream until her lungs were sore and she had no voice left.

"Harry!" she shouted back, closing the distance between them with her kit banging into her side from her hurried steps.

Once she drew closer, there were actually three others stood by instead of the two (Y/N) had previously counted. Cuddled in the arms of the woman she now recognized to be Harry's drummer was a baby boy with slippers in the shape of fish on his little feet, his attention placed on the man standing behind her that (Y/N) knew was Mitch, the guitarist she'd familiarized herself with through countless videos.

"I've been waiting for you," Harry smiled, pulling her in for a gentle hug now that she was close enough. He was careful of the makeup kit tucked into her side, his arms a loose band around her shoulders as (Y/N) wrapped hers around his waist.

In her research, she had found so many frantic and yearning tweets from fans saying they wish they could receive a Harry hug, swearing they knew he was the best and warmest hugger. She could adamantly confirm all of their suspicions now.

Though the contact was short, Harry moving to give Vera her own greeting, (Y/N) swore she could still feel the ghost of his hold around her form.

"(Y/N)," Harry started, giving her a smile before gesturing to the woman with the baby cuddled to her chest, "This is Sarah, she's the drummer in m'band."

Now that she had a name for the face, (Y/N) knew exactly who this was. It took everything in her not to make a joke about Harry actually being a part of Sarah's band. Instead, she reached a hand out for Sarah to shake, a bright smile on her face.

"Nice to meet you," she greeted, eyes falling to the baby boy on her chest that had his mom's nose. She remembered her being pregnant at the Grammy's—and what a warrior she was in a leather outfit while heavily pregnant playing the drums.

"You're the makeup artist for the next couple days, right?" Sarah smiled, bouncing her baby boy higher on her chest before reaching out a free hand to shake (Y/N)'s offered one.

"Yeah, that's me. My friend, Vera,"—(Y/N) pointed to her left, where Vera was being the ever polite character that she presented in front of clients—"is also going to be helping me with everything. Its the Wizard of Oz tonight, right?"

Sarah hummed, absently fixing one of the fish-shaped slippers on her son's feet, "Mhm, and I wonder who decided I was going to be the Wicked Witch." A pointed glance was shot in Harry's direction, playful anger laced over her features.

"That wasn't even m'idea, why are y'mad at me!?" Harry whined, dimples in his cheeks at her teasing.

"You're just upset that people come to these shows to see me, not you," Sarah pushed, shaking her head, ponytail bouncing behind her.

"Anyway," Harry sighed, rolling his eyes though his expression only softened when they landed on the baby boy falling asleep in his mother's arms, "That's Mitch, standing behind Sarah and not helping defend his best friend when he knows the truth."

The quiet man with the long dark hair practically hiding behind Sarah, quirked a short smile. Moving his eyes away from the dark hair sprouting from the baby's head, he gave a shrug in Harry's direction. "She's holding my baby, that takes priority."

Before Harry could whine some more, (Y/N) took it upon herself to reach around Sarah and properly introduce herself. "Nice to meet you, Mitch. You're the cowardly lion tonight, right?"

"Yeah," Mitch sighed, his shoulders deflating as he no doubt remembered the full fur suit he was expected to wear on stage tonight. If it were her, (Y/N) was halfway certain she would have dropped out of the band when she found out that detail; stage lights were not kind to layers.

Before much else could be said, a voice shouted out Harry's name coming from one of the tunnels flanking the stage. Once his attention was caught, the man shouting for Harry continued, "Doors open in an hour—everyone needs to clear out!"

Harry shouted back his agreement, a thumbs up tossed in the direction of the tunnel before he moved his attention back to (Y/N). "Are y'ready for me?" he asked, eyes dropping to the makeup kit at her side.

"Not yet," she said, now worrying about the time despite the fact she had more than enough time to get everything done, "I still need to set up and get everything ready." Looking to Vera over her shoulder, she found her giving a quiet nod in agreement. They didn't even know where the dressing rooms were.

"I can show y'where to go," Harry offered, eyes bright with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

Her heart stuttered at his proposal, already feeling her mouth go dry having the full of his attention and the beacon of his eyes directed on her. "If you're busy, I don't want t—"

"'M not busy."

Harry's words popped the bubble holding the butterflies in her tummy at bay, their wings now fluttering up towards her heart. From the corner of her eye, she swore she saw Mitch give Harry a look with raised brows and a flickering smile.

"I—Okay," (Y/N) agreed, her voice quiet.

A large smile bloomed over Harry's face, stealing the full of her attention before Mitch's voice piped up in the quiet of the empty arena. "Vera, right?" he called over (Y/N)'s shoulder. She figured he received a nod from her assistant as he continued, "Sarah and I can show you where the band is getting ready, if you want."

"Perfect! Thank you," Vera bubbled, sounding a little too happy to abandon (Y/N).

With their baby boy in tow, Mitch and Sarah tossed (Y/N) a short wave and a cordial It was nice to meet you! before leading Vera towards one of the winding tunnels. Looking to Harry, he met her eyes with his own hopeful green pair, a soft smile curled into his raspberry colored lips.

"C'mon," he murmured to her, beckoning her with a wave of his hand as he started down one of the winding halls in the opposite of where Vera was led.

(Y/N) practically tripped over herself to get in line with him, her kit banging against her side as they walked. Their steps echoed over the concrete flooring, her boots substantially louder than the soft padding of Harry's Vans.

"How was the flight?" he asked, his voice breaking up the sound go their feet and the beating of (Y/N)'s erratic heart in her chest.

As simple as the question was, one she would typically assume was a half-assed attempt at small talk by one of her clients, it took one look at his face to know he truly wanted to know her answer. After being away from him for so long, the impact of his eye contact was like new.

Harry listened intently to each of her answers as they walked, actually seeming to care about the bland, wilted salad she splurged on during the flight and the book she had brought along that she was still iffy on whether she liked it or not. If not for the fact he had to ensure they didn't walk into any walls or take a wrong turn, she knew he would have stitched his gaze to her.

"After you," he mumbled, opening the door to his dressing room for her.

A shy smile took (Y/N)'s features as she stepped over the threshold. The set up of the room was simple: a large vanity spanned one wall, soft focus lighting lining the top of the mirror, with a single couch lining the back wall facing the mirror. A plain white garment bag hung from a single rack off to the side, an index card taped to the front spelling out in bold, black letters HARRYWEEN NIGHT 1. If not for the small personal touches dotting the room, (Y/N) would have assumed there wasn't a show to be had in only a few hours.

A warm scented candle was placed in the middle of the vanity space, a peach colored lighter set up beside it in wait. The loose knit of a chunky blanket hung over the back of the couch, bright colors making up the patches of yarn knotted together. The things most notably Harry came in the form of a bottle of cologne on the vanity, a stack of books, two tall on the nondescript side table by the couch with a journal tucked under it all. (Y/N) even spotted a clear plastic case with a tube of toothpaste and a pink toothbrush tucked away.

"Do you mind if I...?"

The sound of Harry's question stole her attention. Whipping her head in his direction, (Y/N) found him with his raised brows, the door shut behind him as he reached for the peach tinted lighter beside the candle.

"No, no, go for it," she bubbled off once she realized what he was asking.

A soft smile touched the corners of his mouth as he grabbed for the black votive that housed the candle described as Autumn Mist. "Y'can set up wherever y'want, don't have to wait for me," Harry said, flicking his eyes from her as the lighter in his hand sparked up.

"Right," she breathed through a smile as if just remembering what exactly she was here to do.

She was aware of Harry settling the candle in his home at the back center of the tabletop before he sat down in the single chair propped in front of the mirrors. Willing her eyes to keep to her hands instead of drifting to the mirror where she knew she would find Harry was one of the hardest things (Y/N) thinks she'd ever done. The heat of his eyes on her hands, his gaze tracing over her profile only made it that much more tricky.

"Can I help with anything?" Harry asked, breaking through the quiet of the room.

The brush cup in (Y/N)'s hand rattled as she jumped, the click of her nails pinging against the iridescent plastic. "Oh, um," she stuttered, eyes trailing over the spread of her kit, "You could sort these brushes if you want? The small ones to the empty side of the cup with the bigger ones being left for later."

He practically bounced in his seat at the opportunity to help, reaching for the brush cup in her hand. His eyes dropped to her hands as she passed the two halves off, gaze brightening even further at what he saw.

"Our nails match!" he bubbled, setting down the empty half of his project to show her the gleaming red paint on his fingernails.

The nerves that had tainted (Y/N) the second they were set to be alone began to dissipate at the innocent excitement on Harry's face. Fanning out her own fingers she placed them by Harry's, the matching candy apple color sparkling under the vanity lights. "They do, yeah," she smiled, "What color did you use?"

Harry's smile turned secretive as he gave a final wiggle of his fingers before returning to his task, "'M not allowed to say; 's not out yet."

"Oh?"

(Y/N) didn't want to come off as the wild fan she knew she turned into during those months of research before today, but if it had anything to do with the Pleasing brand she had read rumors about she might scream a little.

"'S for something 'm announcing in a few weeks," he explained further, his red painted nails plucking eyeshadow brushes from the bundle in the cup, "I've already got in trouble for telling a few people because I got too excited, so 'm really not allowed to say anything. Sorry."

"Don't be sorry," (Y/N) assured, buzzing at the fact she knew something would be happening in a month, even if she didn't have any details, "Whatever it is, I'm sure it'll be really good."

"Thank you," he beamed, looking up at her from the growing pile of brushes in his hands, "When y'see what it is, will y'tell me what y'think?"

Essentially, he was asking to hear from her again weeks after their professional relationship was set to come to an end. Luckily, (Y/N) was busy rifling through the blush compacts she brought along, knowing that if she were busy doing the job she pawned off on Harry, it would have been too obvious how heavy her hands were shaking.

"Of course."

They fell into a quiet rhythm, Harry sorting through the brushes with a determined pout on his lips. (Y/N) did her best to bite back the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

He was so cute. And to think she was so taken with him in photos alone.

"So," she started, having the products she planned on using for tonight placed in perfect order, "We have a little bit of time before we really have to start if you wanted to wait? Anything else you wanted to do before I stick lashes on your eyes, you can do now."

"You brought the lashes?!" Harry practically bounced in his seat, eyes bright and wide as he looked up at her, "I didn't think Lambert told you!"

An aerated laugh fell from her lips, leaning against the counter with her hip popped into the surface. "I only brought some half lashes, nothing big, but I have a few options for you to pick from."

"Can we put them on now? I want to see what I look like with them on."

Nothing was more endearing than the enthusiasm he was sharing over the application. "We can if you want," she repeated, "But I don't want to put it on too early if you have other things to do. You still have a while 'til the show starts, right?"

"Yeah, but I want to take pictures and everything, too. I jus' wanna make sure 'm all pretty so we have enough time for that, too."

He wanted to be pretty.

"Alright," she smiled, "We can do that."

Harry's grin only grew at her agreement, his hands falling to his lap. "Thank you."

(Y/N) bit back her smile as she rifled through her prep products, a crystalline moisturizer being her first pick. "The lashes will probably be the last thing we put on, so, if you want to look through the ones I brought and pick your favorite, you can do that while I do the rest," (Y/N) offered, nodding her head towards the lash case she brought along as she scooped out dollop of the face cream.

An Oh! sounded from Harry before he reached for the pink plastic case, trying his hardest to keep his face angled upwards for (Y/N). A platinum dusting of what the brand called 'stardust' was laced through the moisturizer, painting his skin in a dewy glow she hoped would shine on the high points of his face during the show. Her fingertips gently massages the product into his skin, gently tracing his features with the pads of her fingers. He ooh'd and aw'd in gentle tones as he looked over the small strips (Y/N) brought along, his natural lashes brushing her hands as he flicked his gaze over the products.

"Did you see the line outside?" (Y/N) asked, settling into artist mode and finding the realms of conversation to fill the silence, "I don't think I've seen so many feather boas in one spot before."

His features lit up at the mention of his adoring fans. "Yeah? I haven't had a chance to peek out, yet. What's it look like out there?"

"Well," she started with a breathy laugh, reaching for a gentle lip mask to condition his pout before the lipstick, "There's actually several versions of you running around outside, and almost everyone has either some form of those bunnies on them or a feather boa. I'd hate to be apart of the crew that has to clean all that up."

"They're dressed up like me?" he questioned with a smile to his tone as (Y/N) brushed the mask over his lips.

"Mhm," she hummed, concentrating on his skin, "You at the Grammy's, the cover of your album, and from pretty much every music video you've done."

"Wow," Harry breathed, his awe quiet in the space between them.

"Right?" (Y/N) prompted, her own smile creeping on her face as she watched the tip of his nose and points of his cheekbones turn red with blush, "Other than that, I saw lots of hippies and lots of people dressed up with all the flower power. And a couple of zombies"

With his skin completely prepped and glowing in wait for the cosmetics stacked behind her, (Y/N) drew away to get a look at the canvas she was working with for the next couple of days. Glancing over his features, she only had one thought: she was one lucky artist to have a muse like him.

"You know," Harry started, his hands with the lash case clutched between his fingers falling to his lap, "I was worried no one was going to dress up. For the first time, I'd be the only one in costume when usually its the other way around."

(Y/N) shook her head, reaching for the light brow gel she wanted to start with while the skin prep sunk into his pores. "I feel like you should know by now, they would never do that to you—your fans. Plus, it'd be hard not to show up in costume to something called a 'Fancy Dress Party."

Harry's gaze flittered over her form as (Y/N) took a spoolie to his brows, brushing through the hairs and righting the fibers into a soft arch over his eyes. "You didn't dress up."

His tone was anything but accusing—if anything, it was curious—but (Y/N) couldn't help but feel like she'd been caught in the act. She shrugged, keeping her eyes on the gentle slope of his brows. "I wanted to dress up, but I was worried I would look a little silly walking in here dressed like a fairy when I'm supposed to be working."

"Y'brought a fairy costume?"

"It's currently stuffed at the bottom of my suitcase, but yes," (Y/N) smiled, taking the applicator brushed in the brunette tinted gel to his brows.

"Y'should've worn it. Could've been our second Glinda for the night."

The idea that he would have brought her into their little group for the night made (Y/N)'s cheeks warm along with the smile stretched across them. "Yeah?"

"Mhm," he hummed, gazing up at her from where she stood above him, "Would've fit right in."

"Maybe, I'll wear it tomorrow then," (Y/N) smiled, making one more swipe of the tinted gel though his brows before backing off.

The slope of his brows were now darkened and tamed, framing his smiling face as he looked up at her. As they discussed, she didn't have much to apply in terms of face makeup. With the strain of the show and the fact that Harry himself didn't want to have to worry about much, there wasn't a lot to apply outside of the blush and light powder to be dusted over his skin.

"What's next?" Harry asked as she plucked through the sorted brushes for one in particular.

With the large puff of a brush in one hand and a sheer face powder in the other, (Y/N) tipped the compact to show her client. "Just a little bit of face powder before I do your blush and everything. It helps everything go on smoothly."

Harry hummed at the information, most likely used to this step in the routine. His eyes fluttered closed as (Y/N) dragged the brush lightly over his skin, a satin sheen blending over the glow she already applied to his skin. The bristles tickled his nose as she dusted the tip, Harry scrunching up the feature as he huffed out a laugh.

"Sorry," she whispered, giving one last stroke of product over the center of his face before pulling away.

"'S okay," he placated her, blinking his eyes open as he heard the clink of the discarded brush handle, "I jus' never get used to that feeling."

(Y/N) assured him she would do her best to be careful from now on as she reached for a shimmering highlight powder. With a tapered brush in hand, she gently nudged his chin to the side, giving her an angled look at his cheekbone.

"Is this the blush?" Harry asked, his voice a bit muffled as he did his best to keep from moving his face.

"Not yet," she mumbled, concentrated on the subtle highlighting she wanted on the high points of his face, "Just doing a tiny bit of highlighting so there's dimension when we do the blush."

"Oh," he sounded, taking the moment to get a look at how his makeup was coming along when (Y/N) nudged his chin in the other direction, "Looks nice. I like it."

Her lips curled at the praise, a quiet thank you whispered between them as she tapped some of the glimmering gel around the C-shape of his eye. The vanity lights caught the highlight perfectly, the product melting into the warmth of his skin and the prep she had massaged into his pores beforehand.

"Gotta get your nose really quick," she warned, beckoning him to face her before tapping her ring finger into the gel.

She added the shine to the very tip of his nose, matching what was already applied to his cheekbones and the round of his chin. His skin was warm under her finger, the tip grazing over the ball of his nose before trailing along the straight angle of the bridge. Though (Y/N)'s eye was carefully concentrated on the blend of the product into his skin, from the peripheral of her gaze, she noticed the way Harry's own eyes were struggling to follow her finger. The farther up she went on his nose, the more his eyes crossed.

"What are you doing?" (Y/N) laughed out, backing up some.

A boyish smile took Harry's features, his lips curling to showcase dimples in his cheeks with just the faintest glimpse at white teeth. "I was jus' trying to watch."

"You're going to give yourself a headache if you keep trying to watch me like that," (Y/N) gently scolded, though her chastising lost all grit with the smile on her lips.

Harry only shrugged at her words, keeping his face tilted upwards as if she were the sun, awaiting whatever what next in her line up. (Y/N) sighed, the sound coming out more contented than bothered, as she reached for a detailing brush from her cup.

"Close your eyes," she directed, poking the bristles into the creamy product. Harry did just that, his features going soft as his eyes fluttered closed. She delicately painted the shimmering gel in the corners of his eyes, the sparkles catching the light. When he opened his eyes, it would give the effect of a more opened and awake eye shape, giving him the large, innocent set that Judy Garland had in the original Wizard of Oz.

While she was at it, she highlighted the bone under his brow, lifting his eyes and adding to the subtle dimension she was sculpting.

"There," she whispered when she finished, setting the highlight compact to the side with that brush joining the dirty pile.

Once he had the clearance, Harry eagerly looked in the mirror. "That's pretty," he smiled, bringing his finger up to gently point at the inner corner of his eye, "I like that bit a lot. Makes m'eyes look big."

"Good, that's what I was going for." (Y/N) felt proud of herself; no matter how minimal this makeup was, she was happy she was pulling it off to his liking. "Now its time for the blush," she said, reaching for the bright red blush compact he had specifically chosen the last time she was in New York, "You still like this color right?"

Harry perked up at the sound of the blush, his posture straightening as he peeked at the pressed powder waiting for him. "This is the same red we found?"

"Mhm," (Y/N) hummed, absently grabbing for the brush she planned on stamping the color on with before she would defuse the plots, "But I brought a couple more in case you weren't sure, anymore."

"No, no," Harry shook his head, gleaming bright eyes gazing up at her with excitement in his irises, "I like this one still. It matches m'dress."

With the brush in hand, (Y/N) tapped the bristles in the bright red powder, careful to start with a light dusting before working her way up. "Did you pick the lashes you wanted?" (Y/N) asked, distracting him from trying to watch her do this part of his makeup as well. She was scared to see how he would try to maneuver his eyes to see his cheeks.

"I liked the ones on the top the best, the longer ones," he murmured, keeping from moving his mouth too much as she stippled the blush over his cheekbones.

"Okay," she mumbled, the words coming out a little lazy as she was concentrated on the distribution of the bright color, "Did you want help putting on the mascara or did you want to do that part?"

A beat passed as (Y/N) switched sides, copying the same technique she'd used on the opposite cheek. "I think I want y'to help me. 'M scared I'll poke m'eye out if I try."

"I can do that for you," she smiled, stepping back to check the symmetry of the placement. The bright blush was placed perfectly over his cheekbones, an oval shape stretching over his cheek that emulated the shape she gave his highlight. Exactly like she pictured it.

Taking a much larger brush, she dipped into the excess powder she tapped out on the back of her hand before blending out the splotches placed on his cheek. Swirling her brush, the shade lightened as she worked, some of the bristles catching on the stray hairs of his beard line. The shade lightened into soft pinks around the edges as she blended out the blush, the shape matching that of a face chart she had pored over for weeks.

"I love that," (Y/N) said, leaning back once she finished the blending of the blush, "That looks perfect, I think."

"Yeah?" Harry bubbled, flicking his gaze from hers only to look at himself in the mirror as he angled his head in different directions. "It is perfect," he awed, "'S jus' like we planned."

Pride puffed her chest as he seemed to love it all as much as she did. All that was left was the finishing touches of the lashes.

(Y/N) told him as much, prepping him for the wand that was going to up close and personal in a moment. Rooting through her supplies she found the disposable mascara wands she brought along, and the tube of sensitive mascara she opted to use on him. He wasn't exactly used to products being so close to his eyes—there'd only been one photoshoot before this where he was in something more extensive than some face powder, he'd told her— so she needed to go easy on him. The lashes tucked away in the case would make up for the length she was forfeiting with this gentle formula.

"Okay," she said, bringing the saturated wand to his eye, "I just want you to blink into the spoolie. If I'm too close to your eye or if something hurts, let me know."

Harry murmured an okay, his knees knocking into her's as he adjusted his position. He cautiously did as she instructed, carefully blinking his lashes into the wand dipped in product, though she could tell he was worried something was going to go awry even with her help.

"Careful," she whispered when he flinched as she swiped at the baby lashes in the inner corner, "I don't want to poke you."

He didn't say anything in response, instead (Y/N) felt his hand reach out and grab at her thigh as if to steady himself. His hands were free of the rings she knew he favored, feeling nothing but the reach of his long fingers to wrap around the full of her leg and warm her skin with his palm. It was her turn to feel a bit shaky now at the gentle contact. Taking in a deep breath, she made a point to concentrate on her hand now that there was something very distracting tugging at the back of her mind.

Even when she took a step back, rewetting her applicator with a new coat of mascara for the other eye, Harry never lessened his hold on her. If anything, it tightened some when she lent in again, repeating her earlier instructions, as if she wasn't struggling to screw her head on straight under his touch.

"Okay," she peeped when she finished, reluctantly stepping back to discard of the used spoolie, "all done."

An easy smile stretched over Harry's face, as if he wasn't buzzing under his skin like (Y/N) was. "Not as bad as I thought it would be," he concluded, bringing his hand up to rub his fingers along the line of his jaw, "Only got scared once."

"Yeah," (Y/N) agreed, making a point to continue rifling around for her lash glue as if it wasn't floating on top, "You did really good, Harry."

She could practically feel his smile on her back while she applied short strips of glue to his chosen lashes. He was definitely one for praise, that was for sure.

"While we let the glue get tacky on your lashes, wanna do your lipstick?" (Y/N) suggested reaching for the tray of lip colors she'd brought.

The eager nod of Harry's head brought his curls swooping down his forehead and gazing the tip of his nose. "What colors did y'bring?"

(Y/N) presented the tray to him, several tubes in sparkling packaging calling out to him to peek through. "I was thinking something soft like a rose color because your cheeks are so bright, but its up to you."

He hummed at her input, rooting through the tubes and peeking at the names stamped on the bottom. Finally he pulled the cap off of one in matte pink packaging, from a drug store brand she adored. Twisting it up, the bullet was a soft pink that went on sheer and glossy, the shade one of the ones in the top three of her choices.

"This one good? I think a red would be too much, even if I think they're pretty." Harry looked up at her with the tube in his hand, seeking approval with the raise of his brows.

"That's what I would have picked," (Y/N) smiled, already taking the lipstick from his hand before plucking around for a lip brush, "I don't know why I'm here, you've got all the great ideas it looks like."

Harry laughed as she dipped the brush in the slope of the lipstick, "I could never do all of this, especially not the eyelashes. I would've hated to see what I would look like if y'weren't here, (Y/N). Even if y'aren't dressed up like one, you're still like m'fairy tonight."

Something in her heart shook at the sound of being called his anything.

This was a client, this was a client, this was a client.

The words rang through her head like a mantra as she swooped the lipstick over the soft pout of his lips. Maybe he was nothing more than a natural flirt—she'd read enough stories about him to know how easy it was for others to become so entranced by him—, but, god, was he getting to her. She didn't know what she was going to do once these two nights were over.

After she requested him to roll his lips together, the sheer rose color smoothing over his mouth, she reached for the short lashes waited behind them.

"Ready?" she asked, one of the lashes carefully pinched between a set of tweezers.

"Should I close m'eyes?" he asked, looking entirely too gorgeous with his face made up.

"Not yet, I want to place them first, then I'll let you know," (Y/N) explained, settling in the same position as when he had grabbed for her leg.

With his eyes bright and open, (Y/N) struggled to keep from falling into the lillypad green. The placement of the lashes was going to make or break this entire look, and she didn't want to let Harry down since he was so excited about this part in specific. His eyes watched each of her movements as she lined the strip along his lash line, the fibers blending in with his natural lashes. It took only minor adjustments to pinch his lashes together and ensure the glue was going to hold before she moved onto the other eye.

"All done," (Y/N) whispered once she finished adjusting the set of lashes now gracing his eyelids. Luckily for him and for his ability of sight, he hadn't grabbed for her again; if he had (Y/N) worried she might have poked him right in the eye with her tweezers.

"How do I look? Am I Judy Garland yet?" Harry teased, sitting up straight in the chair though he kept his gaze trained on her.

"I'd say close to, yeah," she smiled, the curl crooked as she laced her fingers together behind her back in anticipation of his reaction, "Take a look."

Whipping his head towards the mirror, Harry took in the full of his glamorized appearance. The subtle highlight caught the light perfectly, opening his eyes with the gentle flare of the lashes wisping out from the corner. He twisted his head in different angles, and wiggled his nose in hopes of catching the small details of the makeup they had planned together. The lashes seemed to be his favorite part with the way he couldn't stop blinking and fluttering his eyes, the tickling against his brow bone eliciting a breathy laugh.

"You're so good at this, you know?" Harry complimented, taking his gaze from from his reflection, "I knew y'were good from what I saw on your Instagram and everything, but it's so cool to see y'actually do it. Thank y'for coming out to help me, it really means a lot. I definitely couldn't have done this without you."

Biting back the grin that tugged at her lips, (Y/N) dropped her gaze to the collection of brushes that would need to be cleaned before being reintroduced to her kit. "I'm sure you would have managed just fine, but I'm happy you like how it turned out. Thank you."

"I don't think I would have, (Y/N)," he pressed, sinking into his chair as if to take her all in as he spoke, "I know for sure I would have poked m'eye out with those tweezers if I was in charge. If I was left by myself, I don't think there would have been a show tonight unless everyone came with me to the emergency room and watched me sing as every eyelash was pulled out of m'eye."

Her laugh filled the air in large strokes at his words. "Now you're just being dramatic," she said, shaking her head, "Is anyone coming to do your hair or are you going to be in the ER with a hairbrush attached to your scalp?"

Dimples appeared in his cheeks at her teasing though he tried to feign offense, "I've recently been granted hairbrushing privileges, you know—I don't have to have supervision anymore, so your jokes can't hurt me," he countered, a snooty raise to his brow as if he was only proving how high and mighty he was, "But, someone is supposed to come and help me put the bow in m'hair before we take photos."

(Y/N) continued cleaning up her kit though she knew she was being slower than usual, "I'd better go see if Vera needs any help then, so everyone's ready on time."

"Oh, you're not going to stay with me?"

His simple question was enough to make (Y/N)'s hands stutter as she plucked the lip brush from its discarded position on the side of the vanity.

"I can come back if you want, but I left a lot of work to Vera. I don't want to leave her high and dry and make your show run late because we didn't get everyone in makeup on time."

"You'll come back though to see my outfit and everything?"

She swallowed around the sudden dryness in her throat.

"Of course, I will."

From the corner of her eye, (Y/N) spotted a similarly red polished hand reach out to help her in packing away her things, plucking brushes up while she organized her compacts and products. Harry gently bumped his hip against hers, smiling down at her with his grin tinted a rosy pink.

"Will y'stay for the show, then, too?" he asked, voice quiet between the two of them. The length of his lashes reached as far as the stray hairs dotting his brow bone, the shimmer in the corner of his eyes almost as bright as the light in his irises.

"Am I allowed to? I feel like you're not supposed to be giving out backstage passes and tickets to everyone you meet." (Y/N) smiled although she knew she was deflecting. He was asking her once against to extend her time with him, and it was making her feel a little crazy.

Her mantra from earlier struck through her skull—he's a client.

"You're not jus' anyone," he countered, his smile going lopsided as he gazed at her, "I want y'to be there, see the show and everything." She watched as he dropped his eyes to his hands as he reached for the brush cup he had started the night with. "But if y'have other plans or anything, 's alright. I jus' wanted y'to know you're more than welcome to stay—that I would really like it if y'did."

He's a client, he's a client, he's a client—Harry Styles is a client.

"I think I could clear my schedule."

—————

There was something different about this show compared to the last one (Y/N) had the privilege of attending.

If the anticipation had just about been tangible in the air the last time she was in this room, this time around it bordered on electric. She and Vera were tucked away in a careful corner of the venue, close enough to catch the details of the stage but far enough away that they weren't encroaching on any of the fans' space who had waited outside all day for this. Orville Peck (who she'd just barely met when he was running around backstage before his set) had finished just barely a half hour beforehand, giving the crowd more than enough time to get riled up at the fact Harry was next.

It was when the lights went down that the mood in the room shifted. For a split second, it was as if the entire arena took in a collective gasp before screams rang out, visible tears springing into the eyes of some of those around them at what was happening in mere seconds.

Just like the first time, the band filtered though first, taking their places at their respective instruments in full costume just before the notes of Harold Arlen's We're Off to See the Wizard blared through the arena. Then, it was Harry's turn.

(Y/N) was granted a preview of the look when she had made her way back to his dressing room after helping with the band. The time in-between leaving him and helping Vera had been utilized to get him in full costume with bright red knitted tights covering his legs and the blue gingham dress draped over his form. The sparkling boots he had excitedly showed her pictures of earlier that month were one of his favorite parts he said, the illusion of the heel though it was nothing more than one of his signature boots had made him want to prance around he told her.

But, under the lights it was like she was looking at him for the first time.

The stretch she had imagined the costume to go through seemed amplified under the lights, his shoulders broad and squared under the delicate fabric. The dots of the embroidered strawberries glimmered under the stage lights, matching the bow on the top of his head that secured the curling sprout of his hair upwards. He skipped along the stage confidently, knowing that not only this arena was watching him so intently, but in the coming days there would no doubt be articles and photographs detailing every moment of his presence on the stage tonight—showing the world what he did. The only thing that might have outshined the smile on his face and the glimmer of his highlight was the pair ruby slippers on his feet.

All the while, he was holding the picnic basket with his Toto dog cradled inside.

The crowd of adoring fans screamed and cheered at a decibel that (Y/N) hadn't known existed until that moment. The screams lasted longer than she knew anyone could push their lungs to do, Harry's grin never lessening as he traded his picnic basket for his guitar. Charles Bukowski's poem rang through as he swaggered up to the mic jus before the opening notes of Golden shook through the venue. If at all possible, the cheers only seemed to grow louder. She'd heard rumors and seen videos of The Garden's floor physically shaking when he played this venue, even getting a taste of that when she was here last. These last two minutes alone proved she was going to get a much bigger picture of that tonight.

This was definitely going to be the kind of night that got the floor shaking, she was sure of it.

—————

It was one a.m. when (Y/N) finally snuggled under the white down blankets in her hotel room. Vera had long passed out, barely taking the time to wipe her makeup off and remove her lashes before faceplanting on her bed.

The night's show was still rattling through her bones as she sunk into the mattress, the screaming of the guitar in Kiwi pumping through her veins. When they left the venue, she and Vera had laughed at how unsteady the stable ground felt after becoming used to the shaking of the floor at Madison Square Garden.

And she got to do it all over again tomorrow.

Just as she was drifting off, her work phone pinged from where it was charging on the night stand.

If not for the contact going to her professional number, she would have ignored the notification, but it was never a good thing when a client reached out to her in the middle of the night.

Through bleary eyes, she swiped open the message only for her eyes to widen and heart to flutter.

Harry Styles

Thank you so much for coming tonight and staying for the show!!! I can't wait to see you tomorrow:)

Happy Halloween love!

She couldn't wait to see him tomorrow either.

—————

The trek down the hallways at Madison Square Garden were now familiar as (Y/N) traced her way to Harry's dressing room.

Her heels clicked against the floor as she took the sharp left she remembered almost missing every time, even when she was escorted to the room, aware of the trails of glitter all over the concrete. She had no doubt there was a fresh trail being left behind her.

The sight of the bright white piece of paper stuck to the door with Harry's name boldly printed across the page brought a smile to her face. Though she was well aware that this was the last night she had any excuse to see him again, she vowed to do her best to not think that far ahead. She was going to have fun with him tonight, and take her time while she had it with him.

Giving a light knock on the door, she shuffled in her costume. She knew she was a bit early, her and Vera being the only ones dressed up until the venue filled and Harry and the band were put in their own costumes, but she hoped he wouldn't think she was silly coming so put together.

"(Y/N)!" she heard Harry cheer as he opened the door, his grin growing as wide as his eyes when he caught sight of her.

"Hi, H," she smiled, absently tugging at the shoulder strap of her kit, "How are you?"

He beckoned her inside with his eyes stitched to her form, his smile keeping stuck to his lips. "'M good, love, 'm really good,"

Before she had much of a chance to set up her kit in the now familiar room, Harry opened his arms wide to her. A sliver of his hips were revealed from the movement of his arms, showing the black laurel tattoos that would soon be covered by the costume hanging in the white garment bag. His body looked soft under the white t-shirt though she knew (from music videos she only felt a little bad about viewing more than a handful of times) that he was solid.

(Y/N) didn't hesitate before taking him up on his invitation for a hug. She walked into his arms with a case of bashfulness following after her, her arms going around his middle while he wrapped his own across her shoulders. She settled with her cheek lightly against his chest, very aware of the makeup on her face.

If this were with anyone else—anyone other than Harry—this would have felt forced and a little rushed considering this was the third time they were meeting up. But, maybe it was the text from the night before or the way he seemed to look at her with a certain degree of tenderness in his gaze, but (Y/N) felt comfortable in his hold.

"How are you?" he asked her, audible smile in his voice before he drew away. His hands lingered over her form as he moved them to settle on her arms, his eyes trailing down her body with his eyes taking in the details of her costume, "Y'look wonderful—like Tinkerbell, but all pretty in red like Cupid."

A bright smile took place on her features as she offered a shy shrug. "It just gave me an excuse to finally wear these boots," she told him, kicking out her foot between them that was clad in a bright red, patent leather boot that matched that of her fairy costume.

(Y/N) was very aware of Harry's gaze that marched down her form, taking in the little, red satin dress draped over her form. Gold glitter rained down over the fabric, concentrated the most in the choppy cut of the hem that emulated that of Tinkerbell. Her hair was pulled back with a shimmering tie covered in butterflies, allowing the dewy makeup she applied to her face to be seen. Glimpses of gold highlighted her skin, and down her neck while traces of red blush and diffused red shadow were applied to her face. All the while, a pair of glimmering gold fairy wings were pinned to her back.

By the time his gaze finally returned to hers, (Y/N) was almost sure that there was no more air in her lungs. The smile he gave her was lopsided as he spoke, "Well, I like it a lot. Gonna give me a run for my money, that's for sure."

She wasn't going to survive him if he kept this up.

"Thank you, Harry," she murmured, feeling her cheeks heat.

Something of a familiarity settled over them as Harry guided her to the vanity, offering to help her unpack her things as he asked her how she liked the show the night before. (Y/N) lagged a bit as she tried to catch up with him, feeling the after effects of his attention as she tried to screw her head on straight under the feel of his gaze. Through her praising of the show the night before—a very welcome distraction as she got to focus on something else—she could feel his eyes on her all the while. If he wasn't careful, she was going to have shaking hands while trying to do his makeup and that wasn't going to be helpful for anyone.

"Ready for me?" he asked as he sunk into the chair, the spread of (Y/N)'s products out on the vanity.

(Y/N) gave a nod of her head, leaning against the counter in an act of nonchalance she wasn't actually feeling. "But," she countered, "we don't have a whole lot to do for tonight's look if you wanted to give it some time. Unless, you were taking pictures again soon, anyway."

Harry seemed to contemplate her words, puckering his lips to the side as his eyes flicked to the products splayed along the counter. After a moment, he looked up at her with a gentle question in his eyes, "Do you have anything y'needed to do?"

"Other than helping you, no," she smiled, tapping her red polished nails on the vanity as if to punctuate her words.

A smile that tugged on the shy side took his features. "Do y'want to sit with me for a little then? Jus' hang out for a while before we have to get to work?"

Though (Y/N) had become at least somewhat accustomed to the fact that this was Harry Styles she was working with, the blinding edge of the novelty having worn off some (not all the way, this was still a very huge deal to her), in that moment she became heart-stoppingly aware of who had just asked her to hang out.

In the back of her mind, the mantra she had basically tattooed on the inside of her skull tried to poke through and erase the sound of Harry's voice.

This is a client, this is—

But, as she gazed at him, the raspberry color of his lips curled into a smile and the green eyes she had gotten an unobstructed view into the night before looking right at her, she couldn't find that mantra reason enough to say no. No matter if her heart was about to grow wings that matched the mesh ones on her back, she was going to make the most of this night with him.

(Y/N) answered in the form of taking the seat beside him, folding her hands in her lap though her attention never strayed from him. "How are you liking that book you started?"

The smile that took over his face was worth every bit of reality that would follow her home on the plane after this night was over.

—————

"Okay, you need to hold still, and let me finish this, H."

(Y/N) knew her stern facade was nothing but a crumbling tower with the strength of her words. Since sitting down and starting his makeup, Harry had been nothing but a pest, teasing and poking at her with an endearing smile on his face that made it a little too hard to be mad at him. She held a pair of tweezers in her hand, the final droplet shaped pearl pinched between the arms as she raised a less than intimidating brow at him. If he wanted the placement of this embellishment to to match the others, he was going to need to stop poking at her and quit his laughing.

"Okay, okay," Harry relented in a breathless tone, even going so far as to close his eyes to not be tempted to run astray again.

She was surprised at his quick compliance, noting the way that every time she had told him to stop crossing his eyes to watch her highlight his nose or to quit playing an all too flirty game of footsie with her as she tried to perfect the diamond-shaped pink blush over his face, that he couldn't seem to help himself and kept playing with her. Even as she applied the first three, he hadn't been this easy to listen; he had been trying his luck the whole time as if he wanted to see how close she could flinch at his eye before there was an unfortunate accident. What she wasn't surprised about, was the way he almost immediately crumbled as soon as she got close to him with the pearl, his mouth breaking out into a grin with his shoulders bouncing in quiet laugher.

"Harry," she scolded, her call of his name sounding a little too sweet through her smile.

"Sorry, 'm sorry," he laughed, blinking his eyes open to look up at her, "I promise I tried."

From the quirk at the side of his lips and the amusement in his eyes, (Y/N) doubted he tried all that hard.

(Y/N) made a show of heaving out a sigh as she grabbed for another dab of glue to dot on the apple of his cheek, the previous bit having dried after he took too much of their time pestering her. "Just hold still for five seconds, then you can go back to being annoying, I promise," (Y/N) mumbled as she dotted the paste on his skin.

"Hey," he whined, dragging out the syllables.

"Shhh," (Y/N) hushed him again, her smile only growing when she saw his dimples trying to peek out behind the offended facade he was putting on, "Let me do this."

Before he could say much else, most likely another distractingly teasing comment that was going to make her heart flutter in her chest and her blood sing in her veins, she laid an anchoring hand on his cheek. She was careful of the products they had already applied to his skin, specifically the dewy highlight on his cheeks and the diffused blush spanning up as far as the peaks of his brow bone, as she cupped his jaw in her palm. The intention was to help him keep still, but with his warm skin under her hand, (Y/N) knew this was going to be a much bigger distraction than his prodding if she wasn't careful.

Harry settled almost immediately at her touch, like he wasn't exactly expecting the extra warmth of her hand on his face. His shoulders seemed to fall into a gentle, relaxed slope though his mouth kept that darling curl to it.

Not allowing herself to focus too much on what had suddenly appeared between them, a palpable tension she wasn't in the right frame of mind to unpack at the current moment, she took advantage of his stillness and finally pressed the pearl into his cheek. Using the tip of her finger from her free hand, she adjusted the placement and righted the point of the droplet, her nail grazing against his skin.

She would always tell herself that she diverted her gaze from the point of that pearl to double check that it was matching up with the others on his face, specifically the one situated above his eye, but (Y/N) knew what she was doing when she immediately matched his own gaze. Harry was found intently watching her, the green of his eyes seemingly brighter now that she was giving him the same attention back (or it was the juxtaposition against the baby pink blush, but (Y/N) was going to take each of those romantic thoughts as she could).

For a moment, the makeup application she had been worrying about for months was forgotten. This was a stilled moment she couldn't have planned or worried for.

"Hi," he breathed, his small smile felt under her palm as the corners of his lips curled.

Maybe it was the glitter she had distributed underneath her eyes that vignetted her vision, but (Y/N) swore in that moment, stars had gravitated towards him and made him the center of the universe for one split second.

"Hi."

A heavy knock on the door almost made (Y/N) jump out of her skin where she stood. Her hand on his cheek fell as if it were doing something scandalous as the girl she recognized to be Mr. Lambert's assistant, Claudia came through the door only a moment later. Her bright smile gave nothing away as her gaze flitted over the two of them, (Y/N) probably a little too close now that all of the embellishments were stuck to his skin.

"Hi! I just finished lacing your shoes, so I thought I'd bring them by before you get dressed," Claudia explained, sweeping through the room towards the floating rack with the single garment bag hung up, "Sorry it took me so long, Lambert suddenly decided today was the best day to organize all of the suspenders we brought."

When Harry tried to speak, at first only a croak came out. Clearing his throat, he hesitantly took his eyes from (Y/N)'s form and looked to Claudia. "'S alright, thank y'for doing that."

"Sure!" she smiled, moving towards the door before stopping at the threshold, "How much longer do you think you'll be?"

Harry didn't hesitate to direct his attention back to (Y/N), his bottom lip coming to rest between his teeth. "Um," she stuttered, words not making a lot of sense in her head at the moment, "We just need to do his lips and then he should be ready."

"Perfect!" Claudia beamed, "Everybody else is getting dressed and ready, so whenever you're set we can take a few photos before you go on!"

"Okay, we'll be out soon then. Thank you, Clauds." The nickname was punctuated with a dimple sweet smile from Harry just before Claudia disappeared out of the dressing room.

Now alone, (Y/N) let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

Why she felt so guilty, like she had been caught red-handed, she didn't know. Nothing had even happened, she argued with herself as she turned to rummage through the tubes of lipstick she lugged along for tonight's show, all she had done was adjust his makeup and he said hi to her. That was it.

Nothing scandalous, nothing unprofessional, nothing that she wouldn't have done with any other client.

Right?

"You're staying for the show again, right?" Harry spoke from behind her.

"Yeah, if that was alright," she answered, distracting her restless fingers with the help of the lip brush was she dipping into the pink lipstick pinched between her fingers.

"Of course 's alright," Harry countered as (Y/N) turned to face him, brush loaded with the pink lipstain, "I want y'there."

Tentatively leaning into his space again, (Y/N) was grateful for the fact he wouldn't be able to feel the heat flooding behind her cheeks. "I'll definitely be saying then, H," she murmured, starting to work on the flushed pink hue that he wanted painted over his lips.

All the while, she felt a pair of bright green eyes framed by pearls watching her.

—————

"(Y/N)!"

In the middle of Kiwi being blasted through the venue, the floor shaking beneath her feet, the sound of Vera's voice with her hand on her shoulder pulled (Y/N) from the Harry-centric dimension she had been transported to for the last hour and a half.

Whipping her head in the direction of her friend—who was happily dressed up as a sexy witch—(Y/N) found Vera being prompted by Harry's manager, Jeff, to get her attention. She'd only met Jeff for a few minutes here and there, particularly when photos were being taken and he took peeks at the shoot before being whisked off elsewhere.

(Y/N) switched spots with Vera, skirting around her friend to allow her to see the end of the show while she was pulled to the edge of the pit. "Is everything okay?" was her first question, the words shouted in his ear over the noise of the music and the crowd.

"Yeah," he answered, a nod of his head as he split his attention between this conversation and the man on stage, "H just wanted me to pull you to come backstage before the end of the show. He said he had something he wanted to ask you."

"Oh?" She reared back, a furrow to her brows.

Jeff only shrugged, "He just asked me to grab you right before he went on for encore."

"Okay," she relented, this not being the best place to extract information given that the sound of Elin's bass was rattling through her bones, "Let me grab Vera, I'll be right back."

All it took was for (Y/N) to share that Harry had something he wanted to ask her that Vera was practically taking the lead and tugging her along. Jeff escorted the two of them down the familiar roads to the backstage area, hidden in one of the tunnels of the venue and out of sight of the concert-goers though there was still a sliver of a view of Harry onstage.

The timing was serendipitous as Harry could be seen finishing his rounds, blowing kisses and sharing his thanks to everyone who came out for the show all around the stage. The lights went down just as the final crashes of Kiwi came to an end, leaving Harry to run off stage and join the back where his friends awaited him.

Adrenaline radiated off of him in waves, hair slick with sweat while his eyes shone with something she had only seen from her spot off to the side of the pit section. A broad smile was embedded on his lips. Harry bounced on his feet as he greeted those who had waited for him, asking how the show was, though he barely waited for an answer before bubbling off to another individual. When he caught sight of (Y/N), his energy seemed to explode between the two of them.

His smiling lips formed the syllables of her name before he bounded towards her, arms open. (Y/N) let out a small ooph as he scooped her into his arms, the wind being knocked out of her lungs at the force of his embrace.

"Hi," he greeted her, voice surprisingly soft given the energy haloing his form, "'M so happy you're here, thank y'for staying." If she hadn't been prepared for the hug, her surprise only grew when she felt a pink-stained kiss be planted on her cheek. Harry only tightened his arms around her as he settled into her neck, the mouth she felt the ghost of on her cheek now buried against her throat.

"I'm happy I'm here, too," she laughed, standing on the tips of her toes to accommodate the squeeze of his arms around her middle.

It took a minute for him to unpeel himself from around her, his adrenaline finally leveling out instead of coming in the erratic spikes that followed him off stage. He kept a loose arm around the small of her back, just under the wings she was itching to rip off her back.

"We—uh—We're, like the band and I and everyone, are going out for dinner after we get cleaned up and everything to celebrate. Would y'want to come with us?" Never once did his gaze flit anywhere away from her, the trademark Harry Styles eye contact being doled out tenfold with all of the glittering energy warping his halo.

There was no way she was going to be able to say no to that, now was she?

"Vera can come, too, right?" (Y/N) peeped, feeling the eyes of her friend lingering on their interaction in between conversation with the members of Harry's band.

At the mention of another's name, Harry seemed to remember there were more than just them in the catacombs of The Garden. He looked over his shoulder to where Vera and Elin were giggling away about something that was too hushed for them to hear.

"Of course, yeah," he nodded, his hand on her waist tightening, "That means you're coming?"

"I just need to get changed and everything, but I'll definitely be there."

(Y/N) should have expected the joyous embrace that Harry pulled her into at her words. Another delicate kiss was pressed to her cheek, the pink prints surely sticking to her skin. "I'll text y'the address then, yeah?"

"Okay," (Y/N) agreed, tightening her own arms around his middle to reciprocate his hug, "Thank you for inviting me."

"I couldn't have done this without you, you know that," he countered almost immediately.

Before much else could be said, Jeff tapped on Harry's shoulder, pulling him from the interaction. "We need to get you all cleared out before people start flooding out, c'mon."

"Right, right," Harry nodded, coming back to reality before unwrapping himself from around (Y/N).

They shared quiet goodbyes, Harry and the band of them tracing the steps back to their dressing rooms. More than once Harry turned around with a wave and heart-fluttering smile directed at (Y/N).

"So, we're going to dinner after this?" Vera asked, her presence closer than (Y/N) remembered.

"Mhm."

—————

Back at her hotel, (Y/N) couldn't bring herself to wipe away the kiss prints on her cheeks as she dressed down for dinner. She was going to keep those.

—————

"Did I get it?"

"No, it's still there."

"...Now, did I get it?"

"No, you're rubbing the wrong side of your face, what are you doing?"

Harry let out a frustrated huff as he looked at his still clean hands, the so-called glitter that was marring his cheek somehow still evading him. All the while, (Y/N) couldn't help the amusement from seeping into her tone and tugging at her features. She did try to be somewhat polite, hiding her smile behind her hand when she didn't think he was looking.

"Would y'jus' get it, please?" Harry requested though his words were annoyed enough (Y/N) could argue that they felt like a demand.

"You don't want to keep it?"

"(Y/N)."

At his tone, she relented with a sigh of Fine before playfully rolling her eyes. Truth be told, she kind of liked the look of him with the glitter, especially since she knew it was from her.

When he had hugged her back at the arena, smushing his face into her shoulder and kissing her cheek, some of the golden glitter that was sprayed over her own face transferred onto his skin and stuck there just like she wished she could. Even after he had wiped at his face, removing the makeup she applied for the show, the holographic specks remained stuck to his skin. It wasn't until appetizers had been brought to the table and everyone was one round of drinks in that (Y/N) finally revealed the secret of the glitter stuck in his stubble and underneath his eye.

"Come here," (Y/N) mumbled begrudgingly, twisting in her chair to sit with her legs over the side to face Harry completely. She scooted to the very edge, leaning into the familiar space around someone who was no longer her client as of three hours ago.

Harry lent towards her, stretching his neck out and offering the cheek with glitter smeared over his pores. (Y/N) took his face in her hands, palms gentle and warm around the cut of his jaw and the soft of his cheek. She did her best to pluck the specks off, though she knew better than most people that once you had glitter anywhere in your vicinity, it was going to be with you for at least another year, if not longer.

Though she was sure her efforts were going to be futile in the face of the glitter, at least she could take her time and finally admire the man she had in front of her.

She couldn't be more grateful for the late night policies of many of these New York City spots, and the low lights they utilized at this time of night. Harry was something of a god on stage, but under the faux candlelights and the neon bleeding in through the large windows on the face of the restaurant, he looked more prince than god. The tiniest of imperfections made their way to the surface, complete with a set of faint bags under his eyes (she couldn't imagine how exhausted he was after these two shows, let alone a whole schedule of concerts for the last two months), traces of his pink lipstain clinging to the ribs of his lips, and the blemishes that (Y/N) could imagine would pop up during a strenuous schedule like his.

He looked beautiful.

"Did y'get it?"

Harry's rumbling voice brought her back to her senses, noticing now only a single speck of sparkle remained on his skin.

"There's one I can't get, it just moves somewhere else, but I got the rest," she murmured, reluctantly leaning back into her own space.

Harry wiped a heavy hand over his face as if double checking her work though his fingers lingered over the same patches she touched. "Thank you," he said with a lopsided smile, a single dimple denting his cheek, "Should've had y'there to help me take everything off; would've done a much better job, 'm sure."

Wiggling her glitter colored fingers to show him the mess he missed, (Y/N) agreed, "Definitely could've done a better job than you."

With his eyes widening in shock, Harry let out a huff of a laugh. "I missed that much? And no one told me? They let me walk five blocks with glitter on half of m'face." He gestured around them to the others situated at their table.

The Love on Tour band along with Jeff, Orville Peck, Madison Cunningham, and Jenny Lewis with a few other members of the crew were seated all around. She and Vera had been the last to arrive, the walk from their hotel being a little bit longer than what she figured Harry's crew had to work with, but (Y/N) didn't mind, especially when it allowed Harry to properly introduce her to everyone around them. All the while her heart was operating on a rate of what felt like three-hundred beats per minute when she felt his hand on the small of her back as she lent over the table to shake hands with his colleagues.

But, her favorite thing about being late, was that Harry had saved the seat beside himself just for her.

Vera had made Elin and Ny her best friends for the night, while (Y/N) was happily sucked into the world of Harry Styles and the way he captivated her attention without even having to try.

Sweeping her eyes around the table, (Y/N) gave a shrug. "I doubt you're the weirdest thing to be roaming the streets of New York on Halloween Night, so I wouldn't worry."

That brought a laugh out of Harry's throat, his smile bright and dimples deep. "You're probably right," he said, sinking into his chair with his gaze lingering over her face, "It could be worse. I could be dressed completely normal, but with a face full of fairy makeup. Now, that would definitely be the weirdest thing to find out there."

(Y/N)'s jaw dropped in faux-offense, knowing exactly the kind of rib he was trying to poke at on her. It wasn't her fault she hadn't wanted to wash off her makeup just yet—if anything, it was his! Once she looked into the hotel mirror, dressed down in a heavy green sweater and a pair of leggings that had seen better days, (Y/N) couldn't find it in herself to part with the pink kiss marks dotting her cheek from a certain pair of lips she was dreading to forget.

Reiterating words she had told him countless times through the same smile when she was attempting to get him ready today, she told him, "You're so annoying, I can't believe I helped you!"

It wasn't until she made a point to wipe her glitter covered hand down the sleeve of his tan cardigan that (Y/N) realized she still hadn't moved into her original position, her legs still hanging over the side of the chair with her body angled completely towards Harry.

Harry caught her arm, his hand wrapping around her forearm in a grip strong enough to keep her from pulling much farther away. (Y/N) did her best to keep her breathing in check and the playful expression on her face as he lent closer, his own smile crooked and eyes sly and teasing, "'M only teasing, love, no need to get all worked up. You know y'look gorgeous—that's the only reason y'would catch anyone staring at y'tonight."

(Y/N) floundered for something to say, anything to fill the air between them, but in that moment her tongue felt dry and her throat was clogged with her heart. He was flirting with her, right?

Just then, Orville called across the table to Harry, asking him to settle a debate he had started up with Pauli. Harry only lagged a second behind, his hand reluctantly falling from around (Y/N)'s arm with his eyes lingering on her face before he turned towards his friends.

(Y/N) felt lucky in that moment to be on the end of the table, able to see everyone around her and their preoccupied positions while she had her momentary freakout. The warmth of Harry's palm remained around her arm, a ghost of his touch that seared into her skin with a soothing kind of heat.

From across the table, she caught Vera's eye. Her friend only raised a brow at her, a silent question asking if she was alright.

(Y/N) could only shrug. She wasn't going to be sure until her heart slowed down, and even then, with Harry right beside her, she knew she would be in limbo for the rest of the night.

—————

"Are y'sure y'can't stay?"

(Y/N) had to fight off the lovestruck giggle that bubbled through her chest at Harry's words. If she hadn't been already in a little too deep going into this project, tonight solidified the longtime crush she knew she was going to be carrying for him.

Even with all of his friends and colleagues around him, Harry's attention never strayed too far from (Y/N). When he was pulled into separate conversations, he even made a point to tug her along and ask her opinion or try to make her laugh. He was the same person in her makeup chair the whole night, just as funny and smart, though it seemed there was something more running under his words now. When she spoke, she swore she caught his gaze more than once slipping to her mouth.

But, all good things must come to an end, even the Halloween project that had taken roots in her mind for the last three months.

Though, in that moment, with Harry pleading for her to stay, bright green eyes framed by thick lashes she knew well, she wondered if there was any way for Halloween to last another day (or month even, she wasn't picky).

As much as she wanted to stay in her spot, stake her claim on this chair and never leave, (Y/N) remembered Vera waiting for her back at the hotel, having left an hour earlier when Sarah and Mitch declared it was time for them to go back to their baby. They had a booking in the morning for a pair of Real Housewives that (Y/N) had even been the one to remind Vera about, though now it seemed she was the one that needed the warning to go to bed and get some rest.

Reluctantly, (Y/N) nodded her head at Harry, her lips curving into a frown. "Vera and I have a booking with some Real Housewives in the morning, and I already know its going to be a mess, even without me staying out late."

Harry perked up at the sound of the franchise she was to work with, a murky memory she had read months back about him being a fan of the show resurfacing in her mind. Though, it seemed the mention of the television show didn't do much for brightening up his demeanor.

"Alright," he sighed, readying himself to stand from his seat at the table, "Could I walk y'out, then? I don't want y'to wait alone for a taxi."

A smile blossomed on (Y/N)'s features. Any time with him, no matter how short, was going to earn an automatic and bright agreement from her.

She nodded her head with a quiet sure, escaping her lips. By the time they were both standing, (Y/N) telling the remaining group at the table that she was leaving for the night and that she appreciated getting to work with them and how nice it was to meet everyone, Harry was barely informing anyone of his whereabouts. Only a half-hearted be right back! was called over his shoulder as he followed (Y/N) out.

"So, where to next?" (Y/N) asked as they stepped into the night air of New York, the neon lights around them shining brighter than the moon.

"Uhm," Harry hummed, reaching up to run his fingers over the side of his jaw, "Milwaukee, I think."

"Oh," (Y/N) sounded, requesting an Uber on her phone before tucking her arms around her middle, "Then back here again, right? Only get a couple weeks away at a time before you come crawling back."

Harry let out a laugh, shaking his head, "I do have another show here but not until—"

"Oh, my god," (Y/N) laughed, the sound loud in the middle of the night though it had nothing on the traffic bustling just a few blocks away, "I wasn't even being serious. You really have another show here?"

"It was a last minute addition!" Harry defended, leaning against the brick of the building though his body never shifted away from her, "I didn't even know until a couple of weeks ago."

"That's what they all say," (Y/N) countered airily, turning her nose up as if she knew something he didn't.

"And y'call me annoying," he teased, nudging his foot against hers in a gentle prod.

A beat of silence passed, (Y/N) aware of the fact that her Uber was only five minutes away and then that would be the end of the Cinderella magic that allowed her to become so close to Harry over the last few days. She let out a sigh at the thought.

Four minutes, now.

"I really liked working with you, you know," Harry said, his voice a quiet rumble between them. He gazed at her through his lashes when she flicked her own eyes in his direction. "'M touring for the rest of the month, but after that—uh—I... I would really like to see y'again."

Time could have stopped in that moment for all that (Y/N) was aware. He wasn't saying what she thought he was saying, right?

(Y/N) tried her best to rein herself in, tugging back on the frantic butterflies that threatened to invade her stomach and crowd her lungs. "Of course," she started, words stilted, "Whenever you need a makeup artist or any advice, just let me know and I'll be there."

Harry's lips curled into a crooked smile at her words, dimple deep in his cheek. "I'll definitely be doing that," Harry murmured, amusement tinting his tone, "But, I was really hoping I could see you, again. Without having to sit in your chair and have things glued to m'face, anyway."

Those butterflies that were verging on rabid were too much for (Y/N) to contain any longer. He was to see her again, outside of the professional relationship they had forged as he sat in her makeup chair. He wanted what they had found on the couch of his dressing room and in the chairs they vacated in the restaurant behind them. He wanted what was encased between them the second he jumped off stage tonight and wrapped her in his arms.

Two minutes, now.

"I'd like that, too," (Y/N) peeped, using her shaky hands to pull up her contact book on her personal phone. "I know you already have my work number, but—um—if you want, this is my personal phone. You could put your number in, or—um—we could keep talking through my wor—"

Harry cut her off with a soft laugh, reaching his hand out for her offered device. "This is alright, don't worry."

(Y/N) watched as he typed away at her phone, his number subsequently being added to her contact list.

One minute.

Giving her phone back, Harry didn't hesitate before pushing off of the bricks and bringing her into a hug. (Y/N) reacted in affected movements, her brain struggling to keep up with the amount that's happened in the last five minutes. She settled with her arms wrapped around his middle, cheek against his chest, while Harry's had landed around the width of her shoulders, his own head dipping to rest in her neck.

"Text me when you're back at the hotel safe, yeah?" he whispered to her, arms tightening a minute amount around her form.

"Yeah, okay," she smiled, the lovestruck giggle she had tamped down before now making its way out against his chest, "I will."

It was the sound of a car coming up to the curb, idling only a few feet away that had Harry peeling himself from her form. (Y/N) allowed herself the privilege of his body under her hands as her touch lingered around his waist, she looked up to find him already smiling at her.

"C'mon," he said, voice quiet as he placed his hand on the small of her back.

(Y/N) happily followed after him as he ducked down to talk to the Uber driver as if he wasn't Harry Styles out in the middle of the city after a sold out show at Madison Square Garden. He verified the name of the driver, double checking all of the information for (Y/N) before he finally tugged her along.

Opening the back passenger door for her, Harry molded another soft smile onto his features. "Goodnight, (Y/N)."

With a neon blue sign radiating from behind him, (Y/N) saw remnants of the god that took his time on stage and shared with the world what a rockstar looked like in the modern age. But, more than anything else, she saw the man she had met in her makeup chair that made her heart race without all of the swagger that he turned on for his fans.

She saw Harry.

"Goodnight, H."

As her Uber started off towards the hotel, (Y/N) pulled up the newly added contact to her phone.

Harry Styles:)

God, she couldn't wait to see him again.

—————

Pulling up to the studio, (Y/N) felt an excitement rattling in her bones she hadn't felt in months.

She and Harry had been keeping loose contact since the final night of Harryween, messages incoming around Harry's busy schedule. Though the initial plan had been to meet up once he was finished with tour—his last show being in New York which (Y/N) made a point to tease him over—the hectic agenda of a rockstar proved too much for Harry to make concrete plans around. Though (Y/N) had been disappointed having to push off seeing him again so many times, the fact that he was trying and had kept the possibility of meeting up again alive, was enough for her to be happy.

But that contentedness had nothing on the moment when a text came through from Harry asking if she would be free to help him on set at a photoshoot for a magazine he was booked to be on the cover of. He had declined the makeup artist the magazine had offered, telling them that he knew someone in the area he really wanted to work with again. It wasn't exactly the date she had imagined they would go on when they finally had a chance to see each other, but if this was the best way for him to commit to plans with her, aside from planning out a dinner three months from now when his schedule was set to clear a little more, she wasn't going to turn it down.

That was how she found herself at a studio she had been to only a handful of times, readying herself for what Harry described to be an editorial photoshoot to go along with the roll out of a couple of upcoming projects he was the face of. They had discussed the pair of looks he was wanting to showcase, her kit stocked full of the items he had requested along with the book he had been telling her he wanted to borrow from her whenever he had the chance.

Walking in, she joined the rest of the crew that was readying for the arrival of Harry Styles, a PA instructing her to a corner of the set where a pair of vanities were set up for her to take over. She saw the familiar face of Harry Lambert working away at what was the makeshift wardrobe department by the single bathroom that was sure to act as Harry's changing room. After shooting Mr. Lambert a small wave when she caught his eye, she took stock of the room around her as she unpacked her kit.

A large white sheet was draped along the center of the back wall, the beginning bones of the backdrop for the photoshoot. Wardrobe was stocked full of different outfits hung on the limited rack space, polaroids of different looks taped to the back wall for Mr. Lambert to reference as they picked through the ensembles for the photos. PA's and other crew ran around the space with props, clothes, camera equipment and more as they built the set to be ready for Harry Styles, the man of the next few hours until The Shot was secured for the cover and the main spread that was going to be all about him was filled with an archive of photographs.

(Y/N) couldn't help her heart from racing as she realized just how soon she was finally going to get a chance to see Harry again.

She had kept up with his tour after Halloween, noting the way his charisma and showmanship never waned even in the last few concerts of the tour. Even when his new brand was being presented to the world, he never once faltered or seemed overwhelmed at his shows, seemingly glowing with all the praise being offered towards the Pleasing products she had heard rumors about since the beginning of last year. Her admiration for him as a performer only grew.

Seeing the photos of him, chest often times bared with curls framing his face and softening his features as he sang love songs and created an atmosphere full of self-love and acceptance definitely didn't hurt either. The messages she would receive in the middle of the night when she knew he was coming off stage or early in the morning on what she assumed was a day off of his, allowed her heart to keep simmering for him even in his absence.

With her back turned towards the set, (Y/N) pulled out the loose and gelled glitters she brought along, a few options of each for Harry to pick through for the shoot. Her concentration was placed on a mix of iridescent, star-shaped glitters she had mapped out could be tapped underneath Harry's eyes if he picked them, when she heard Mr. Lambert's voice ring out through the studio.

"Sue!"

A deep, familiar voice she'd only heard in videos for the last months answered back, "Susan!"

Whipping her head around, (Y/N) found Harry trailing in through the maze of PAs and set designers with greetings falling from his lips to every individual that had a moment to speak to him. He was bright spot amidst all the bustle going on around him, a sunny yellow, crocheted hat on the top of his head to crown him the sunflower king of the day. The same baby tee he had been wearing the day she helped him dress up as Dorothy adorned his torso, the smiley face on his chest a beacon. Artfully faded and ripped jeans fell over his legs before they made way for a well-loved pair of Vans he wore almost everywhere according to pap pictures and fan sightings, pink shoelaces bright against the plain white (or brown at this point) canvas. Once he made it to wardrobe, Harry wrapped his friend in a warm hug, his grin wide.

He was a lot earlier than she would expect the talent of a photoshoot to be. Maybe it was her years working in the L.A. beauty scene, but (Y/N) was much more used to these important people showing up just in time to get dressed and in makeup before being hurried to set, never this early and this welcoming to strangers on set. But, the glimpses that she got into Harry's demeanor over that Halloween weekend showed her that she shouldn't be all that surprised anyway. He was never anything less than extremely kind and sweet to everyone he met, even during interactions that lasted less than a handful of seconds.

Of course, he would be the one to show up over an hour early to his call time. Of course, he would be the one to say hello to the flustered PA who's kindness and willingness to work was being taken advantage of by the photographer. Of course, he would be the one who was different.

Unable to keep her lips from curling into a smile, (Y/N) only allowed her eyes to linger over the Harrys for a second longer before turning back to her station. He would come to her when he was ready, that's what she told herself, and being caught staring at him wasn't going to be the most welcoming introduction after months of not seeing one another.

It was only when she tugged out the face charts she made up for him, that there was a shift behind her. Something about the air changed the only way it does when someone with a presence approached. (Y/N) knew exactly who it was.

"Hey, you."

A bright smile made its way onto her face, (Y/N) spinning on her toes to see the owner of the greeting voice.

"Harry!" she beamed, finding him standing behind her with his curls peeking out from underneath his sunflower stitched hat. The wide grin she had spotted from across the room was now directed at her, dimples deep in his cheeks with the white of his teeth bright against his California tan.

"How are you?" he asked, his voice a quiet rumble between them. He looked her over with the familiar warmth of his gaze, eyes taking in the full of her form as he opened his arms in invitation to her.

"I'm good," she sighed, stepping into his arms with a contented smile on her face as her cheek met his chest, "How are you? It's been so long."

"It has been, yeah," he mumbled into her shoulder, his arms tight around the width of her body, "'M good, 'm really good. Thank y'for coming."

(Y/N) pulled back just far enough to look up at his face, his hat tamping down his curls to frame the height of his cheekbones with the brim creating something of a shade of privacy for just a moment. "Of course," she whispered, "I've been really excited to see you again."

The smile that bloomed across Harry's lips was something (Y/N) had never seen in any photos or read about in any profiles on him. "Me too."

For a moment (Y/N) forgot about the chaos running around them, the noise of the impending shoot becoming nothing more than a dull murmur in the peripheral of her mind. This moment alone was well worth the wait since New York.

Though she could have stayed in his arms for the duration of the shoot, Harry being one of the best huggers she'd ever met, she knew that probably wasn't the most professional look while being on the job. So, it was her who drew away first, her shoes scuffing the floor as she shuffled back towards the vanity.

"You're early," she said, resisting the urge to busy her fingers with the glitter-gel pot at her left.

"Am I?" Harry asked with a lilt to his tone, as if he'd heard that statement a hundred times before.

"I didn't think your call time was for another hour," (Y/N) explained, her eyes following him as he moved to lean against the vanity beside her, "I was just surprised to see you here already, that's all."

The intense eye contact she'd forgotten in his absence made it's debut for the day, the green of his eyes something she wasn't able to forget even if she'd tried. Harry shrugged at her, his gaze never leaving her own, "I was excited about this one, what can I say?"

Maybe she was reading a little too far into it, getting too excited to be back in the presence of someone she harbored a puppy's crush on, but she couldn't help but feel like he was telling her that she was a part of why he was excited.

"Nothing wrong with that," she smiled, "What's all this for anyway? Something special coming soon?"

At that, Harry's grin grew sly and crooked, his eyes finally falling from her own to catch sight of his overworked Vans. "'M not allowed to say," he mumbled, an apologetic roundedness to his features, "'S something new I've been excited about, yeah, but 'm not supposed to say anything else about it until the article comes out. I've already been in trouble a handful of times with my manager because I've been a bad secret keeper about this one, can't do it again."

"Not even a little hint?" (Y/N) pried, feeling a sense of deja-vu. It seemed he struggled to keep secrets like this, which only endeared him further to her. Besides, she was only teasing as she hadn't wanted him to get in trouble or anything... but it would be kind of fun to be in on a big Harry Styles reveal.

Harry feigned thought, puckering his lips to the side as he seemingly rolled the idea around his head. "Maybe," he settled on, ducking his chin to offer his serious proposal, "If y'make me really pretty for today's shoot, I might give y'a hint. Maybe."

Letting out a hum of thought to play along with his game, (Y/N) faux-considered his offer. "I'll see what I can do," she finished, a smile creeping on her features when she noticed the familiar red painted on Harry's nails.

Though her own were a bright shade of white now, that candy apple red brought back a slew of giddy memories.

It was then that Harry caught sight of the various glittered set out on her vanity, the closest one with a myriad of stars and moons mixed in being the one that held his attention. "What's this for?" he asked, reaching for the jar like a curious puppy with a bone.

"Well," (Y/N) twisted in her spot, gesturing for Harry to take a seat in her chair, "I had a few ideas if you wanted to look at the charts I brought..."

—————

(Y/N) watched as Harry, now with his hair mussed to perfection with the curls creating the perfect spirals and waves he was known for, dressed to the nines in a lemon yellow crop top and a pair trousers made of black mesh with bright butterflies embroidered over where it mattered most, posed in front of the camera. His hands were decked out in his iconic range of rings, the most garish of his collection making their presence known. A jade beaded necklace clung close to his throat, working against the bright yellow of his top, matching the faux-earrings cuffed around his ears. Behind him, the white sheet that made up the background had been transformed into something of a fantastical dreamland; faux plants and shrubbery was formed around him though it was clear Harry was the star and the fluttering butterfly figurines were there for nothing other to enhance the world he was to pull them into.

His makeup was left minimal for the first round of shots, nothing much farther than glowy skin prep (alá the Pleasing illuminating serum (Y/N) had been way too excited about adding to both her professional and private collections) and a brush through his brows and curl to his lashes. Harry was very excited with the various face charts she showed him, the glitter being the main focal point he was giddy over, but told her the vision for a few of the shots were for his skin to be clean and easy while the clothing they had picked would steal the show.

He was a natural, that much she could tell from the last few sets of photographs. While he definitely made the stage his home, modeling and being in front of a camera like this was something she thought might be a vacation home for him—something different to performing, but fulfilling in its own way. The photographer didn't offer much more than for Harry to look one way or another, change his footing, or ask for help from hair or makeup (she really was only needed when another coat of glossy lip treatment was to be applied to his mouth). The rest was up to the man in front of the camera as he moved with a goofy smile in between takes before turning on the serious charm when needed.

After she had finished what turned out to be only a ten minute makeup application (after just over an hour of them talking as Harry sat in her chair), Harry had requested she stick with him as he had his hair fixed. Though he was more than happy to chat with her, offering insights to what he did after tour finished (other than finishing the book he borrowed from her, which he told her he wasn't super in love with the alternating plot lines but he thought the writing was very beautiful) and what he was planning next (still no hints about this new project, though (Y/N) tried), he seemed much more inclined to ask about her. Every conversation was turned around into a question for her, what she thought about this film that had been rumored around L.A. to have begun private castings for, what her holidays had been like, and what she planned on doing after this (a very boring answer she had offered, but Harry didn't seem particularly disappointed by it).

He'd tugged her along for everything, keeping her close when he was trying to figure out what the first look of the day should be, spilling funny faces to her when he didn't think the hairdresser was looking, and incrementally asking her what she thought of specific stylistic choices despite Mr. Lambert being right there. Nonetheless, she felt honored to be glued his side, his name falling from her lips when he wanted attention.

That's how she was roped into following after him when an outfit change was called for, the photographer asking for the quick set change in the mean time. As an arsenal of flowery fake plants with mossy additions and dreamy light filters were being rushed to the set, Harry was corralled off to wardrobe, a look over his shoulder towards (Y/N) telling her that she was meant to come along.

"Is it time for the glitter yet?" she called as he disappeared into the bathroom with a garment bag, the door cracked just enough to hear her words.

Popping his head out of the doorway, (Y/N) was greeted with a heavenly smile and a hint of his bare shoulder, tattoos included. "It is," he decided, the beam of his smile almost matching hers.

"Flowers?" Her question referred to the pot he seemed particularly drawn to, a mix of pink and purple, cosmetic grade, flower-shaped glitters distributed among finely milled iridescent and green sparkles.

The dimples in Harry's cheeks were deep and calling for someone to poke at the depth.

"Flowers."

—————

(Y/N) had never been more proud of her work than what she had done today, she decided as she packed up her kit.

She'd never been a part of anything like this shoot before, even taking the handful of editorial style gigs she'd worked on in the past into account. Not only were the changing concepts attention grabbing and something that would fit right into a dream. She could see the editing now, how the hazy lighting and filters that had accompanied much of the second half of shots were going to add to the magic that would happen in the photographer's dark room and make Harry the unofficial fae king he had been crowned.

But, her favorite part was how in love Harry was with the glittered look they had crafted.

After he changed into an outfit consisting of more tulle and silk than (Y/N) had seen in her life, all the fabrics dyed a sage green with faded bleached spots that held a tint of pink in the middle, it was her job to add the glitter they had agreed on and run by both Harry Lambert the creative director. The carefully placed fragments were dotted around his eyes—cuddled in the inner tear ducts, and stamped under his eyes before the fine sparkles were added in artful strokes that were dominating the internet and television at the moment. When she finished and he finally got a look in the mirror, his irises sparkled more than the glitter she dusted along his skin.

"I love it," he had told her, the words floating out on a breath.

That praise alone was what had her smiling brightly through the remainder of the shoot, through the small touchups she made between shots, and the elongated time she was taking to pack up her kit.

When the final shot had been taken, the photographer yelling out "This is the one, Harry! This is your cover!", Harry had been almost immediately hustled back to her chair with the help of PA's tasked to take down the set before the sunset. As (Y/N) did her job of removing the glitter from his face, plucking the flowers from around his eyes, she remembered the way he looked at her as she praised his work in front of the camera and how amazing she was sure the whole thing was going to turn out. After throwing the final makeup wipe away, this one streaked with the product she had threaded through his brows and the finest of glitter that shone green in the light, Harry stopped her with a gentle hand on her leg. His touch was familiar.

"Wait for me, yeah? I need to say bye to a few people, but I want to talk to y'before y'leave."

She hadn't hesitated before saying yes, smile tugging at her glossed lips.

For the last half hour, (Y/N) distracted herself with helping other's tear down their stations before taking her time to clean up her own area before some unfortunate assistant would be tasked with breaking down the vanity table to be carted away for whoever was set to use this place next. At some point during these distractions, she heard he sound of Harry's voice pattering through the chaos. He was doing just what he'd said when he asked her to wait: thanking and saying goodbye to almost everyone on the crew. He even stopped and helped Mr. Lambert pack away his things, taking some of the heavier totes and crates off of Claudia's hands with a muttering of I'll take that, don't worry.

"Y'waited."

Now it was her turn to have that attention.

His voice held an edge of wonder, like he wasn't sure she was going to really follow up with her promise of sticking around for him. (Y/N) looked at him over her shoulder, hands busy righting the stack of face charts she brought along, a bright smile on her face. He was back in his street clothes, the bucket hat just barely containing the perfectly coiffed curls framing his face. (Y/N) could only spot one single remaining fleck of glitter, just to the right of his eye as if it were nothing more than a beauty mark.

"Of course, I did," she said, raising her brows, "Did you do everything you needed to?"

"Almost," he answered, the word quiet and slow.

It was then that he jumped in, helping to put away the final remaining products that she'd left laid out on her table. Just as she was going to slip the strap of her kit over her shoulder, Harry's gentle hand stopped her, red painted nails standing out starkly against the white blouse draped over her torso.

"I'll take that for you, yeah?"

(Y/N) dazed response came in the form of a quiet, "Yeah, okay."

Harry's smile was crooked on his features as he walked out with her, finally goodbyes called out over his shoulder to which the PA's and helpers shouted out their own send offs to "Mr. Styles." He only let out a small laugh at their reactions.

Entering the parking lot, the sun was low in the sky but hadn't yet touched the horizon. The pavement was bathed in orange tones, ranging from sherbert pink and bright coral to a blazing orange that was half the sun's fault, and half thanks to the smog that clouded L.A.. All that was missing was flakes of gold to rain from the sky like snow. Golden hour, she recognized.

When she noticed Harry give her a questioning glance, brows raised, she pointed across the lot. "I'm over there," she said, happy to have him walk her all the way out. That's what she got for coming at her actual call time, and not twenty minutes earlier to get a closer spot.

Harry's face twisted into a grin at her words. "We're neighbors, then. I parked right beside you."

"Really?" she asked, her voice titling at the end in curiosity, "I would have thought you'd pick a spot closer. You're the star and everything, it'd be well deserved."

Harry shrugged, shaking his head as the brim of his hat flounced at the motion. "I don't like to take those spots since 'm probably the only person that jus' has to bring themselves. I have nothing to carry back and forth like everyone else."

Of course, he thought like that. Because, as she realized earlier, Harry was different.

"This is you, I'm assuming?" (Y/N) asked once they made it to the pair of slots towards the edge of the lot. She couldn't hide how impressed she was from leaking into her tone when she caught sight of the bright yellow, vintage, convertible parked beside her Honda she couldn't even remember the year of.

He shrugged, though his pleased smile was a little too hard to hide. "I like to take it out when the weather's nice."

"I don't blame you," she laughed, unlocking her car. She led Harry to her passenger seat, the side closest to his own car, opening the door for him to store her kit for the drive home. Once he was cleared and out of the way, (Y/N) moved to close the door behind him, a smile on her lips though it was a bit bittersweet now. From her spot edging closer to his car, she saw him backlit with the help of the golden sun acting like the halo that should have been placed on his head during the shoot. Though she decided she'd never seen anything more breathtaking in that moment, she sunk at the fact she didn't know when she would get to see him again. If at all.

"Wel—"

"Than—"

(Y/N) cut herself off at the same moment Harry had, an apology tumbling from her lips that only ended up crashing into Harry's once again. With a laugh, she waved her hands between them as she shook her head. "You first," she determined.

"I—uh—," he started, a breathy laugh interrupting his words as he passed his knuckle under the tip of his nose, "I was jus' going to say that I really like working with you, (Y/N). I don't... We waited too long to see each other again, I think."

When his gazed matched her own, (Y/N) couldn't stop the flutter that tugged at her heart. Here they were again, making plans that she was going to yearn over for the next months. She wouldn't have it any other way. Harry was worth the wait.

"Me too," she smiled, twisting her fingers into a heap, "I really look forward to these kinds of projects with you. We have a lot of fun, I feel like. But, I understand you're busy and don't always have the say in bringing me along, so I understand why we don't see each other more often."

Harry shook his head, making the distracted movement of trying to run his hand through his hair despite the hat on his head. He let out a laugh that melted into (Y/N)'s when his fingers became entangled in the crocheted fabric, opting to just pull the piece off and tuck it in his back pocket.

"'M busy, yeah," he said, a set appearing in his jaw when he looked at her through the frame of his lashes, "But I don't—'M not too busy for you."

(Y/N) heart appeared in her throat in that moment, the beats of the chambers felt against he delicate skin of her neck with her blood rushing past her ears in a way that drowned out everything but Harry.

"If 's alright with you," Harry continued, his hands coming to tug on the cropped hem of his top, "I want to see y'outside of work things, too. I think it might be fun seeing y'without glitter ending up on m'face."

A giddy smile took (Y/N)'s features, something of a lovestruck giggle came out at his joke. "That's alright with me," she settled on, "Definitely." Her smiled bright before it was directed at the pavement under their feet. She hoped the break in eye contact would allow for her brain to click back into place, though she knew that was a long-shot when she knew Harry Styles was right there and had effectively just asked her on a date.

"Yeah?" he smiled, his voice floating out on a breathless sigh.

(Y/N) couldn't find it in herself to manage any other kind of response other than her smile widening on her features as she nodded her head. "Yeah." How she was going to be able to drive home through L.A. traffic with these clouds stuffed in her head, she didn't know. "I'll text you later then, right? We can plan something."

Though he nodded his head, Harry didn't look ready to leave. She was proven right when he took a careful step in her direction. "There was one more thing I wanted to do before I left today, if that's alright with you," his tone was quiet between them, though the set of his features solidified into something serious.

"Okay," was her lame response.

With (Y/N)'s back now against the yellow convertible that suddenly looked too small for someone of his height, especially with the way he seemed to grow taller with each careful step he took closer to her. The careful hands she had felt just barely grazing her own when passing off products or on the two occasions he had settled on his palm on her thigh when she was working on him, returned to catch on the curve of her waist. His touch was just barely more than a ghost's graze, a light patch of warmth blooming under his palm.

"I feel like I should've done this back in New York," he mumbled, eyes trained on her features, memorizing every twitch and tic of her muscles. "Tell me if y'don't want this, and I'll stop. I'll wait for you."

If he was asking what she thought he was asking...

With his gentle grip on her waist, Harry lent down, dipping his head to be level with her own. A second passed, a moment for (Y/N) to stop him if she didn't want this, before her mind had all but vanished at the feel of Harry's lips against her own.

The clouds she had been worried would alter her driving skills didn't stand a change against he warm sunlight that poured out of Harry at the tender contact. They evaporated in a moment, leaving her clear minded, nothing else to concentrate on but the feel of his kiss.

(Y/N)'s restless hands moved to settled on the center of Harry's chest, something she had wanted to do since she saw him in his Wizard of Oz costume. The same chest that stretched the fabric of the outfit was now under her hand, the faint thudding of his heart underneath the layer of muscle giving away just how giddy he was for this moment like her.

Drawing away for just a second only to return with another innocent kiss to her lips, (Y/N) smiled at the contact. This felt like the end to a first date. Nothing was implied with their kissing, nothing other than the fact they liked each other with a promise of a next time slipped in there. Harry offered her one more soft-lipped kiss before effectively pulling away.

This time it was (Y/N) that lent up to her tip-toes, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

The grin on his face was something she wished people made face charts of. His curls were wild and unruly now that they were freed from the confines of his hat, the gel unable to hold any longer as the strands draped around his face in a way that acted as if they could curtain this moment and create a sliver of privacy.

(Y/N) even swore there was a blush on his cheeks, natural and rose-hued across his skin.

Taking a shuffled step back, the space causing reluctant hands to fall to their sides, Harry shook his head with dimples deep in his cheeks. "I've got to go to a meeting tonight over dinner, but could I call y'after? We can talk about... next time."

The mention of the next time could have knocked (Y/N) off her feet—and almost did, with the way she stumbled a bit as she moved to get out of the way of Harry's car. He only let out an endeared laugh around a bid to be careful at her stuttering feet, making (Y/N) feel a little less embarrassed.

"Yeah, yeah," she sighed, carefully rounding the front of her car though she couldn't find it in her to pull her eyes from him, "Call me whenever, I'll pick up."

He waited for her to pull open the driver's side door before speaking again. "Bye, love. Get home safe."

(Y/N) all but melted into her front seat at the sound of the endearment wrapped in his voice. "Bye, Harry."

The drive home was just as traffic filled as (Y/N) expected but there was nothing that could wipe the smile off her face.

Next time, he had said.

Now, she had to figure out how to tell Vera without getting ear-splitting screams of joy in response.

—————

ahhhhh!!! this is like the perfect combination of all my love for makeup and for harry jsut coming together and I just loved this idea so much like getting to put all the pretty stuff on his face:( I really hope everyone liked this and thank u so much for reading! sorry for any mistakes and if theres any ideas or requests you have of your own please send them in!

2K notes · View notes

eijishimas · 3 years

Text

caught red handed.

18+ nsfw content. minors dni. all characters are aged up.

masterlist.

content warnings: f!reader, college!au, masturbation, mentions of alcohol, voyeurism, daddy kink, bit of a handjob, bit of oral (m!receiving), filming, slight degradation, creampie, one (1) instance of bakugou slapping your pussy.

notes: happy belated birthday to my bestie, @rekiri . you deserve the world and so much more, you’re sweet and hilarious and i fucking love talking to you, whether we’re joking or being more serious. i know you told me not to, but i really wanted to write something for you as a gift (because ya girl is a bit of a broke bitch). ik it’s not eren, kiri, or reki, but i hope you like this piece regardless. i love you, even if you annoy me to death, you whore /j. this one’s for you <3

wc: 2.6k | inspo (nsfw link): xxx

Everyone knew college was stressful. Deadlines nearly every single week, assignments and essays, not to mention attending classes brought a whole new wave of anxieties for students every single day. Sometimes that stress was either doubled or relieved by having a partner for a project or two. Luckily for you, you and your old high school classmate Katsuki Bakugou were paired up for a project for one of your Quirk Law classes. It was a research project, one that required a forty slide presentation. You were headed on your way to Katsuki’s dorm today to work on it at the time you agreed upon: 5pm. Then you two would study together for upcoming midterms. It was all planned out down to a tee. So at around 3:50pm, Katsuki knew he had time. He figured he needed a break from his Rescue Tactics Indoors II class, otherwise his brain would begin oozing from his ears.

Pushing aside his overpriced textbook, he rolled his shoulders back, hearing the cracks of his stiff muscles while he stretched at his desk. He let out a sigh, propping his chin up on the palm of his hand as he scrolled mindlessly through his socials. Mina had posted a Throwback Thursday post, an old one of him and you back in your freshman year of college. His nose twitched in annoyance as he recalled the parties, more specifically Denki Kaminari’s birthday party, where he had gotten so drunk that the walls melted and bent before him. Katsuki’s expression changed however, as he swiped through the collection of photos to stumble across an image of you and him. Have you always worn dresses that tight? You practically had your ass out from how short your garment had been cut, tits threatening to spill out of your low hanging neckline. Not only that, but Katsuki had an arm slung around your shoulder. His smile was stretched wide due in part to the alcohol in his system, but also because you were standing next to him. You were laughing at something Mina had said behind the camera, your hand tossed against the slightly unbuttoned shirt Katsuki had worn that night. Your fingers had brushed against his toned chest and he scoffed at the thought. Slowly but surely, memories of that party flooded back to Katsuki in waves.

They were mostly recounts from Kirishima and Mina, but apparently you two had made out in front of everyone that night. He swiped left again, swallowing dryly as he saw just that. Your manicured fingers were wrapped tight around his party shirt, tongues in a deadly dance of want and desperation for each other. Katsuki’s eyes grew as he noticed that the photo hadn’t cut out the part where he had been kneading your ass through that skimpy dress of yours. Immediately, Katsuki went to Mina’s dms demanding to take down the photo. And she did, thank god, but not without sending Katsuki more than ten photos of you and him making out at the party. He clenched his jaw, anger and a low desire plaguing his conscience. Glancing to the top left corner of his phone, he noted the time. 4:10pm.

He had time.

Saving the photos to his gallery, he pushed his chair away from his desk to have some fucking breathing room. His eyes flitted down to his sweats and as he expected, there was a tent forming. He groaned, wiping the sweat from his palms off on his pant leg before languidly beginning to palm himself through his clothes. His breaths quickened, chest stuttering as he looked to his phone displaying the photos of you and him. There’s a faint recollection in the back of his head of how you taste. Like cherries from your glossy lips, like vodka from the shots you took off of Denki earlier that evening, how you moaned into his mouth the night you had drunkenly kissed.

Katsuki tugged the waistband of his sweats down, allowing his previously constrained cock to breathe. It slapped against his stomach, heavy and leaking. Shit, he didn’t remember being this horny at the beginning of this. Spitting into his palm, he lubed up his dick as best as he could on short notice. His eyelids drooped as he swiped through the pictures like a filmstrip, a montage of all the best moments he had with you at that party. You grinding on his lap, you whispering dirty ideas you wanted to do with him later, you, you, you…

Katsuki squeezed his aching shaft, fisting his cock as precum dribbled down his slippery head. His face was an uncanny shade of crimson, a testament to how horny he was all for a few old pictures of the two of you. “Y/n.” He swore he barely recognized his voice from how breathless and needy it was. He continued to pump his cock, the only thoughts replaying in his mind were perverted fantasies of you bouncing on his dick hard enough to hear the slap of your ass cheeks against his abs.

Tapping the screen of his phone twice to zoom in, he admired your curves with pursed lips. Fuck, you really were gorgeous. Everything about you radiated a sinful nature he could never put his tongue on. You were tempting him, licking flames up his body with such intensity that made him shiver. He cursed, thumb drifting over his slit as he hissed. Fuck you for being as ravishing as you were that night, fuck you for making him feel so goddamn needy for your-

“Bakugou, I was about to text you but I remembered you were studying today, so I figured it would be okay if I came a bit...” your words trailed off. You blinked rapidly in an attempt to process the scene unfolding before you. Katsuki Bakugou, holding his dick in his hand, face on fire with a deep blush, his other free hand secure around his phone with- was that a picture of you from your freshman year of college? There was a beat of silence, Katsuki’s uneven breathing the only sound in the room aside from the low drawl of the ceiling fan over both of your heads. You gaped at him, tongue darting out to wet your lips upon realizing his hand hadn’t stopped moving. If anything, you saw his hand flex around his cock, further tightening his grip as you stood right in front of him.

“What the fuck-”

“What?” he beat you to the punch, his lips twitching into a devilish smile, “Don’t like what you see?” His confidence knocked the air out of you, your bewildered attitude showing true on your features. Your body feels warm, searing beneath his gaze. “Excuse me?” you squeaked out, overcome with both curiosity and a hint of lust for the ash blond.

“Are you gonna fucking help me or not?” His pride was refusing him to be flustered, not when he was this feverish for you. He needed the upper hand, he needed control over this situation. And it seemed by how you were shifting your weight from side to side, that it was happening just as he wanted. Who were you to refuse such an offer from Katsuki Bakugou?

And that’s how you ended up here, nestled between thick, muscled thighs with your hand wrapped around his throbbing cock. He had you spit over his dick, his entire shaft gleaming in all its glory as it stood to attention in your grasp. The flash of his camera burned your eyes as you suckled on his crown, hand continuously jerking his cock while he ravenously watched you through the screen. The guttural groan that escaped him was nothing short of music to your ears, your thighs tensing as the coils of heat continued to build and knot between your legs.

“Mm. Keep going like that, take it. All the way in now, like a good little slut,” Katsuki instructed, his voice slicing through the heavy atmosphere of desire. The words make you whimper, enveloping his sensitive head in vibrations while you lick around his slit. A large hand cupped your face, forcing you to make eye contact with the ash blond behind the camera. His black tank top truly had no confines over him, since it was tight enough to see the outlines of his pecs and ripped torso. Katsuki sure worked hard to maintain his appearance, but you knew he had the strength to back those muscles up. The thought of him completely dominating you, holding you with strong arms and pinning you down with his body made your pussy even more wet with your slick than it already was. Even from how you were on your knees, Katsuki possessed an unspoken will over you. You wanted to please him, make him feel good, make him have no good reason not to give you everything he had to offer.

You took your lips off of his head with a little ‘pop’, eyes wide and expectant as a string of drool connected your bottom lip to the tip of his cock. Bakugou’s smile grew, making sure your face was completely in frame and in focus. “Dirty girl,” he hummed, thumb tracing the apple of your cheek before guiding your lips toward his twitching cock. You slowly kissed the vein on the side of it, mumbling out four words:

“Your dirty girl, daddy.”

The moment the words left your mouth, Katsuki let out a low, gravelly moan. It was as if a switch inside him had flipped. Without warning, he’s pulling you off the floor and sitting you down in his desk chair instead. He’s a bit rough, his vision clouded by the sheer want to fuck you until you were screaming his name, until his name was the only word your pretty little brain could recall. He abandoned his phone and instead had his hands drop to the armrests of his desk chair, encasing your body as he towered over you. Your skirt was immediately shucked up your waist and Katsuki’s hands went to work on your panties. He ripped them off completely, tossing them aside without a care as to where they went. He gazed down at you with fervour, licking his lips at the sight of your dripping cunt.

“Who’s pussy is this?” he coaxes with a grin, teeth shining. His hand slipped between your thighs, his index and middle finger tracing up and down your slit. Goosebumps erupted across your skin, your thighs instinctively closing around his hand. Your face bloomed with warmth, eyes darting away from his cocky demeanour, “Baku—”

Your body jolted as a firm smack was delivered to your sensitive pussy, a wet, lewd sound meeting your ears as he did. It made a high pitched, whiny moan be pulled out from your throat.

Fuck.

“Try again,” he ordered, tone demanding and almost condescending. His lips ghosted yours yet he never had any intention of moving close enough to seal the gap between the two of you. You whimpered, eyes meeting the dark red irises that were staring straight through you.

“‘S yours, daddy.”

“Now that’s a good fuckin’ girl.”

His lips found yours, teeth tugging at your bottom lip hard enough to make the warmth in your stomach double. The liquid heat had been building ever since you walked in, and you were fairly certain that you weren’t going to last much longer.

He hooked your knees over his elbows, biceps flexing as the muscles in his arms supported your full weight. He picked you up with such ease, your arms flying around his neck as you squeal, gasping at how little effort that took him. He was a pro-hero in training, of course he had practiced lifting people up no matter their body type or size. Either way, it didn’t matter to him. He thought you looked rather angelic clinging onto him regardless. He wasn’t even breaking a sweat with his hands spreading your cheeks, grunting as he adjusted you in his arms. He slid slowly into your slick cunt inch by suffocating inch, your walls fluttering and enclosing around his throbbing cock. Katsuki’s breathing was unsteady, eyes watching your expression intently in hopes that this new position would give you as much pleasure as it was giving him. His ego was running rapant from how you were holding onto him for dear life. You were practically shaking in his grasp, mouth open in an ‘o’ shape as all you could do was gape at how deep he reaches within you. You were keening, eyes hazed with lust and nails digging crescents into his shoulder blades hard enough to make him hiss.

When you finally catch your breath and adjust to his size, you give him a curt nod as an indication for him to start moving. Slowly, he lifted you up off his cock until his head kissed your entrance before allowing gravity to do most of the work. This position had his cock nudging your cervix and it made the knot in the pit of your stomach squeeze further, threatening to snap with every loud smack of his balls echoing through his dorm room. He pistoned into you like that, reaching deeper to rearrange your insides. It was like your entire body was being engulfed with pleasure and fire. He took in your face, how it scrunched in pleasure, hair sticking to your face as you mumble out how much you want to cum, how much you need to cum.

“Fuckin’ tight just for daddy, hah?” he cooed to you, “You wanna cum all over my cock like a little slut? You were watching me from the door jerking off for you. Dirty fuckin’ girl. Who’s making you feel good? Say it. Spit it out.”

“You!” you moaned, your head feeling light from the way the veins on the side of his cock rubbed your walls, “You, daddy. Please let me cum. I w- wanna cum!”

“I can’t hear you,” Katsuki rumbled, eyes steeled before you unmoving and unwilling to give you permission just yet. “Please!” you begged, “I’m a dirty girl. I’m your dirty girl, daddy! Please let me cum!” You were too engrossed in your pleasure to have any semblance of shame. Katsuki grinned. That’s what he wanted to hear. He let out a tiny ‘tch’ before uttering out, “Then cum, slut.”

Without another word, you let out a final wanton moan, gushing around him as the liquid heat finally expels from your body. Your orgasm hits you in waves, your body quivering with each new sensation as you hold Katsuki’s cock within your cunt. Your nails leave angry red marks along Katsuki’s shoulders, ultimately sending him hurtling towards his own release.

Cum dripped down his twitching cock, your chest heaving as your legs feel like jelly. Tingles shot down your spine as Katsuki pumped rope after rope of his sticky cum well enough to paint your inner walls white. He helped you ride out your high, delivering harsh bitemarks to your neck to leave a mural of hickeys claiming you as his. The smile he gives you is cocky, prideful, and arrogant. He placed you back down on his desk chair, your thighs still going through the aftershocks of your high. Reaching for his phone, he tapped the app icon for his camera. He knelt down, chuckling as your fingers slid between your legs to spread your lower lips for him. His cum seeped out past your slit, leaking down to your puckered asshole.

“There we go. Aren’t you daddy’s good girl, hm?”

Tiredly, you nodded.

“‘M daddy’s good girl.”

all works © eijishimas 2021. do not reuse, modify, or repost.

tags:

@lonleyweeb77 @cynthus-no @lonelyheart-cluband @smhhyung @stoopidnekobish @kiridarling @kirislilrock @baku-deku1 @hajisuu @damnitcrowley @foruthemoon @peaxhcringe @justanotheruselessextra @izukuuarchive @katsuki-kitten @shokoarashi sorry i couldn’t tag all of you!

want to be on the taglist? see here.

#bnhacity #bnha smut #mha smut #bnha x reader smut #mha x reader smut #katsuki bakugou smut #katsuki bakugo smut #bakugou smut #bakugo smut #bakugo x reader smut #bakugou x reader smut #katsuki bakugou x reader smut #katsuki bakugo x reader smut #eijishimas.oneshots

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nojey · 3 years

Text

unnoticed

quackity / alex x streamer!reader

genre: fluff -> angst pronouns: they / them word count: 2.1k warning(s): cursing, suggestive jokes

synopsis: you had known alex since you started streaming but none of your viewers knew. you started getting closer and eventually you started streaming together but your viewers didn’t like that.

“(y/n)!” alex screamed into his phone after you answered the facetime call. “yes, my love?!” you screamed back. alex giggled and asked, “do you want to stream sometime soon? i mean like, we’ve known each other for a few months and we haven’t streamed together, i know you’re a fairly new streamer but i even asked dream if you could come onto the smp, and i have something planned- well karl and sapnap helped me plan it- but that’s not the point, the point is-” he rambled. “alex? are you asking me on a minecraft date?” you asked. “no! well, maybe, okay yeah. i’m asking you on a minecraft date.” he confirmed. “i’d love to go on a minecraft date with you, alex.” you said, blushing a bit.

truth is, you’ve had a crush on alex for a few months. when he first slid into your dms you didn’t really expect it, but it turned out to start a beautiful friendship. you always flirted with alex in hopes that he’d notice, but it never seemed like he did. he never retaliated back but little did you know, he was just too shy to.

“uh- okay great! tomorrow, at 3pm your time, stream it. we’re going to have a lot of fun. wear pajamas, or you know- just be comfortable okay?” he rushed. you laughed a bit and said, “yes alex, of course. bye now,” then smiled and hung up.

you immediately went tot twitter and started a thread: @(y/s/n): this weeks stream schedule (times are pst): @(y/s/n): tomorrow @ 3pm: minecraft date w/ someone i haven’t streamed with yet ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ↳ @ quackity: i wonder who this might be hmMmMMmm @(y/s/n): tuesday @ 1pm: i somehow got invited to an among us lobby w/ corpse, sykkuno, valkyrae, disguised toast, quarterjade, masayoshi, peterparktv, jacksepticeye, and ludwig ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ @(y/s/n): wednesday @ 1pm: if things don’t go well w/ person on monday- looking for a mc boyfriend! ↳ @ quackity: WELL THAT’S RUDE TO ASSUME THAT THINGS WONT GO WELL (Y/N) @(y/s/n): thursday @ 3pm: chitchat w/ nihachu !! @(y/s/n): friday @ 2pm: pummel party w/ ??

as soon as you tweeted all them out, you looked at replies and saw that quackity had replied to both monday and wednesday schedules. giggling to yourself, you replied back to him.

@(y/s/n): @ quackity way to make it obvious alex, if you wanna date me just say it (¬_¬) @(y/s/n): @ quackity how can you assume that it will go well alex (Ő-Ő) ↳ @ quackity: i just know (y/n)!!! truST ME!!!!

laughing once more, you plugged your phone into the charger and went to bed, excited for what alex had planned for you two tomorrow.

getting ready for the minecraft date was very nerve wracking. the only thing you could think about was whether alex considered this a real date or not. deep inside you hoped that this was a real one.

the ringing from your phone disrupted your thought. looking down on the screen you saw that the one person you were thinking of was calling you.

“hello?” you answered. “hi, (y/n), are you ready?” alex asked. “uh, yeah, i just- i just need to start my stream and introduce what we’re doing.” “okay, um- i’m going to send you a link to the dream smp discord server. join it and join vc 4.” he replied. “for sure, see you then.” you smiled. “see you.” he said and hung up.

“fuck,” you said and wiped your hands onto your pants. you definitely weren’t ready but still, joined the discord server and joined vc 4 then deafened. you set up your stream and hit go live.

“hey everyone! as you may know, if you follow my twitter, today i’m going on a minecraft date! uh no, no one knows who it is yet, but i have a feeling a LOT of you already know who it is.” you said, reading chat and wiggling your eyebrows.

“okay, i’m going to join the server and then share my screen when he’s standing in front of me.” you started playing some music so your viewers didn’t get bored while they waited for you to start.

once you were logged into the smp you privately messaged alex and asked him where he was. before he could answer you turned around to look at the walls you were surrounded by and screamed out after seeing quackity’s naked body behind you.

“chat, i’m okay, just got scared. um anyways, yeah.” you said and showed your screen, revealing the man himself. “quackity!” you screamed into your mic. “jesus christ, (y/n) we can save screaming my name for later.” he said in a suggestive voice. you then started punching him and after each punch you said, “stop. saying. suggestive. comments. we haven’t even started the date yet!” “okay, okay, okay! i’m literally going to die, (y/n) stop!!” he yelled out. you kept hitting him to see if he was lying but after the second punch quackity was slain by (y/mc/n) showed up in the chat.

ranboo: i see that the date is going well

you started laughing uncontrollably while alex was silent. “(y/n),” he said in a more serious voice. you hummed as he continued his sentence. “why did you kill me?” “i wanted to know if you were lying. was that a canon life? i think that should be a canon life.” you laughed. “no it wasn’t a fucking canon life. (y/n) you’re not even an official member of the smp!” he said. “i could be,” you said wiggling your eyebrows and crouching up and down. “anyways. follow me, i’m bringing you to where we’re having our date.” so you followed him and when you reached your destination you were at party park with karl and sapnap standing in front of you.

“hello boys. what are you doing here on our date. is this an amusement park date, quackity? i didn’t take you for that type of guy. it’s kind of cheesy.” you rambled. “no! this isn’t where our date is happening. jeez, have a little more faith in me (y/n).” he said, moving his minecraft character to look at you slowly and creepily. “well there wasn’t much to begin with,” you said, chuckling a bit. you heard karl and sapnap giggling to what you had said. “hey! take that back!” quackity said, punching your minecraft character. you audibly gasped and turned to look at karl and sapnap again. “you guys saw that right? he just hit me.” you said, faking shock. they both quickly nodded their heads. “i can’t believe you would hit me on our first date.” you said, turning to look at him this time. “you literally killed me!” he yelled out.

so this went on for about 30 more minutes till quackity explained to you that your date would pretty much be a minecraft manhunt with quackity, sapnap, and karl hunting you but you had to find something instead of defeating the enderdragon. if they killed you and they won, you owed alex a real date. no stream, just them.

“you’re going to hunt me for our first date?” you asked in disbelief. quackity then nodded his head up and down in a very fast motion. “mm cool,” you said as you punched him and ran away in a different direction.

it had been about 45 minutes and you killed karl and sapnap twice, but quackity had not been seen the whole time. but as you were running away from sapnap, quackity appeared in front of you and you faked trying to kill him, letting him just kill you because you wanted to go on that second date with him.

(y/mc/n) was slain by quackity ranboo: date still going really well, looks like you guys are really hitting it off!

“awe man, looks like i have to go on another date with quackity!” you said. sarcastically faking the disappointment. reading your chat for the first time this stream, it wasn’t your usual happy messages. instead they were filled with negativity.

i don’t see why quackity wants to go on a date with them why did dream let them on the smp?? there are so many other content creators who deserve to be on the smp way more than they do they’re so fucking annoying begging for attention much?

so you grew quiet and just listened to quackity end off his stream while you ended yours without saying anything. but once he finished saying goodbye to his stream, you immediately said bye to him.

“i’m gonna go now alex, thank you for the minecraft date. text me the details for the next. bye.” you rushed.

alex found it really weird that you had just left like that, you guys almost always stayed on call after he finished streaming for at least 3 hours just talking. but he let it slide, hoping it wasn’t something he had done.

you went onto twitter to update about your streaming schedule. @(y/s/n): looks like my stream schedule may be moving around because i’m going on a second date with @ quackity!

alex quickly went to go reply to it but gazed over the replies to your tweet and wasn’t very happy with them. you don’t deserve to go on another date with him you’re literally just using him for clout what an attention whore leave him alone already!

knowing that you barely ever got hate, he quickly called you instead. thinking very hard about what he was about to do. looking at your phone you saw that alex was facetiming you, you wiped your face from the tears that had fallen and sniffled, hoping you didn’t sound too congested.

“hello?” you said. “hey um, i have to tell you something.” he replied. the serious tone of his voice got you very nervous. was he about to confirm everything your chat had told you or even the tweets you just read? “i really like you, (y/n).” he said. you looked at your phone in surprise and he continued. “and i really don’t know if you feel the same way about me but i read the replies to your tweet and i know that you’re a pretty new streamer and i just don’t want you to already be getting hate because of me, you don’t deserve that. you’re an amazing person and i just, i don’t want to be the reason you’re getting hate. so i think it’d be best if we just laid off talking to each other for now.” “i like you too, alex.” you whispered. “but i respect your decision. goodbye for now?” you said, offering a smile to the screen he was displayed on. it looked like he was just as shocked as you when he told you how he felt. “uh, yeah. goodbye for now. don’t be a stranger (y/n).” you smiled once more and hung up.

as soon as you hung up you started crying again. you really liked alex, but maybe you didn’t show that well enough, because if you did, maybe you guys would’ve been together at this point.

the next day, you streamed normally with a faked high energy that nobody seemed to notice, this time not paying attention to your chat. deep inside you really just wanted to curl into a ball and sleep all your stresses away. it really sucked to find out the guy you’ve had a crush on liked you back but he decided to end whatever you guys had going on.

but your chat couldn’t know so you kept a fake facade on, hoping no one asked about him.

though to alex, it looked like you were so unbothered by him pretty much ending your friendship. he started slightly believing the tweets that mentioned how you were just using him for clout. but after really thinking about it, he realized, why would you have been friends with him months before, without any of your fans knowing if you really were just using him. so he scolded himself and went about his day.

you were ending your stream with a big smile, as soon as you hit that end streaming button that smile was gone. you changed into a hoodie and curled into your bed. you just looked up at your ceiling and started crying, you pretty much lost the guy you really liked. your feelings being unnoticed by the public eye.

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bestiesenpai · 3 years

Text

youtuber Sukuna

I beg you to read the shitposts I made about this, they are delicious. You don’t have to of course but...if you loved me you would :) s/n = screen name, and I hope you chuckle at Sukunas screen name

Content warning: uhmhm lowkey incel shit(mean internet comments and whatnot)

part two --- part 3

Name: Sukuna. Age: 25. Height: 6 foot 5 inches. Occupation: toxic Youtuber, fitness trainer and hot guy.

Sukuna wasn’t exactly known for being kind. He wasn’t nice to others, rarely having anything good to say about anyone, and he’d made a successful Youtube career out of it. First starting as a fitness trainer at his gym, through encouragement from his clients and the notion of a quick cash grab, he started Youtube.

He didn’t care about it and that reflected in the quality of his videos and editing. He didn’t have consistent uploads, just filming and posting videos whenever he wanted, analytics be fucked. But somehow, that worked out for him, and he quickly found himself with over two million subscribers just frothing at the mouth for his next video.

And those subscribers were some of the worst people. Sukuna didn’t care about fostering a safe space online for others, not in the slightest. His comment sections were atrocious, both on his Youtube and his Instagram. It was full of toxic men one-upping each other constantly and dragging on each other for not being able to work out as much as Sukuna did.

Sukuna was a large part of why his fanbase were so toxic. He himself often made bad comments about others, whether fellow creators or people that happened to appear in the backgrounds of his videos, and on more than one occasion he’d been ‘cancelled’. None of that mattered though, all he cared about was shitting on other people and making money.

Sometimes he played video games and posted it, but not too often. Sukuna often stated he wasn’t so much of a fucking lonely loser that he’d play video games all the time, and so the gaming videos he did post were few and far between. He played angry shooter games and GTA, mindless button clicking he could get lost in for a few hours for a video.

Laying in bed one night after uploading his most recent video, one where he rages at 12 year olds on GTA online, Sukuna was just scrolling through his phone mindlessly. After he uploads video game content, like clockwork, he gets recommendations for gaming channels. He only watches a few of them, mostly leaving mean comments saying what losers they are, but one catches his eye.

He’s never been recommended this kind of video before. The thumbnail is light and bright with some pink aesthetic lights in the back. But the most enticing thing is the person in the middle, cute pink cat ear headphones on and a bright smile.

“Let’s see…” Sukuna mumbles to himself, mindlessly clicking the video. He hasn’t even read the title, he only clicked it because they were cute, and here he is nearly blinded by the bright setup they have.

“Hi everyone, it’s (Y/N) here and I’m really excited today! We’re going to be playing this new game I found!” Sukuna is immediately enraptured by the sound of your voice, watching how your face changes as you talk. His eyes drift off to the decor behind you, cute plushies and healthy plants, and some twinkling fairy lights. There’s books as well, and your chair is one of those ergonomic gamer chairs he has as well but in pink.

Sukuna watches the video dumbly, totally in the dark about whatever you’re doing, but loving it all the same. All he knows is that he likes the sound of your voice, and when you laugh and smile at a funny part in the game, it makes a light flush come to his cheeks.

It only takes one video for Sukuna to spiral into more of your content. He watches a video on your gaming setup, and he’s surprised that so much technology can come in pink. He watches a video on how you edit, a few of you cooking in your kitchen, and even a few vlog videos.

He quickly subscribes to your channel, and when you plug your social media, he immediately goes there. Pulling up your Instagram, he stares at your profile picture and almost audibly coos at you for being cute.

Your profile is just as cute as your videos are and Sukuna barely remembers to follow you before he’s going through your whole feed, liking every picture he sees. Sometimes he leaves comments, only one word though, ‘cute’. He’s never liked something so outright cute before, it wasn’t who he was and it definitely didn’t fit with his brand.

Falling asleep after following you on every platform, Sukuna wakes up thinking about you as well. And he also wakes up to hundreds of comments from all his accounts, bombarding him with questions and screenshots from last night.

‘SUKUNA WHY WOULD YOU LIKE THIS SHIT?!’

‘OMG Sukuna liked (Y/N)s posts!!’

‘Sukuna is so gross and toxic, you better stay away from (Y/N)!’

‘SUKUNA YOU GAY NOW’

‘EW why the fuck do you like this bitch?’

There were hundreds of comments that he waded through. Most were from his fans, expressing disgust at how many photos of yours he’d liked and wondering why he, Sukuna, most heterosexual alpha male on the planet, would like a pretty in pink Youtuber who had bubbly intros and whined when their animal crossing villagers wanted to move away.

Other comments were from your fans, some in awe that he would like you considering how much he said he hated overly cute things. Other fans expressed concern, worried what this might mean for their favorite Youtuber. Did Sukuna want to cause problems, potentially hurting you? He did have a reputation of bullying others, so this wasn’t far fetched.

Checking your Instagram, you didn’t make any comment about it. There wasn’t any update or anything, but on his end he was being tagged in endless Twitter threads with screenshots of him liking your posts and commenting under them.

“For fucks sake.” He grunted, clenching his phone in his hands. The amount of notifications he was getting were starting to upset him and he nearly threw his phone to get them to stop.

Ignoring his phone for the rest of the day, Sukuna went to the gym like he always did and trained with his clients. Some of them brought it up to him, asking him if he had a mind break last night and forgot what he was doing. Sending them harsh glares, Sukuna refused to talk about it.

“Oh my fucking god.” Sukuna nearly wailed when he got home, finally checking his phone. His name and yours had begun trending, and the hashtag #protect(Y/N) was also. Muttering angrily under his breath, Sukuna turned on Instagram live.

“Okay what the fuck!” He shouted, seeing the live become instantly flooded with people all screaming about you and him. “You’re all fucking annoying, you know that?” Glaring harshly at the camera, he read some of the comments that went by.

‘WHY’D YOU LIKE (Y/N)S POSTS FROM 2017’

‘Are you two secretly dating??’

‘COLLAB!’

“Who gives a shit why I liked their stuff, you’re a fucking weirdo for keeping track of me. And we aren’t secretly dating, dipshits.” Rolling his eyes, Sukuna scoffed as more comments came in begging for a collaboration. “And think about it you morons, why would we collab? Our shit is too fucking different, what would we even film about?”

Sukuna stayed on Instagram live for nearly an hour answering questions asking about you. Every time he had to answer that you weren’t secretly dating, he got a little more annoyed. Not at the comments themselves but at the fact that it was true; you didn’t even know he existed.

Ending the live in a huff, Sukuna didn’t feel any better than before, and it was made even worse by the fact that everything he said was being relayed to Twitter, and you were tagged in every tweet.

“These idiots!” Staring at his phone, Sukuna couldn’t believe what he was seeing. On your Instagram stories, you’d posted a q&a for your followers, and nearly all of the comments were about Sukuna.

“Hi everyone! No, me and Sukuna aren’t dating!” You said, laughing a little to ease how uncomfortable you were. “To be honest, I’ve never even heard of him before! As you know, my content is very...different from his, so our circles don’t exactly intersect. But I’m always happy to have new followers and potential friends!”

“Fuck me.” Sukuna groaned, cringing at how uncomfortable you looked having to address the sudden onslaught of questions. For once he wished he’d actually given a shit about his online presence, so that maybe one day your circles could intersect. He knew he scared you, he scared a lot of people, and this was just proof.

“Uh, Sukuna if you see this, hi it’s nice to meet you!” You said in the next slide, puffing out your cheeks and waving cutely at the camera. It made Sukuna blush, and he hated it. “Thank you for following me and liking my content! I was very surprised that you found me!”

“Of course I did, idiot, you’re fucking cute.” He muttered under his breath.

“I know a lot of people are asking for us to do a video together and I know our content is really different, so don’t feel pressured to respond or anything, but the offer is open! If you’d like, we can collab on something.”

“On what?” He asked like you were there.

“I cook sometimes, and I know you cook too! Maybe we can make a cooking video? You can teach me how to make healthy food or something!” Sukuna could tell a fake laugh when he heard one, and you definitely had one right now. “Anyways, thank you! Bye Sukuna!” But hearing you say his name cutely like that made him not care.

He nearly responded right away, accepting the collab offer now that you’d spoken about it, but he didn’t want to seem desperate. He watched through the rest of your Instagram stories, going back and replaying the parts where you talked about him over and over and his heart clenched every time when you said his name.

In the dead of night, Sukuna DM’s you after watching your latest video and leaving the simple comment ‘check your DM’s’.

“Fuck, what should I say?” He’s suddenly stumped as he looks at the keyboard. Typing and retyping a message, in the end all he can say is hi. He doesn’t expect a reply, ever, but when he gets a vibration on his phone two seconds later he jumps to read it.

(S/N): hi Sukuna! :)

(cursedgod): hey

Real fucking smart, repeating what he just said.

(S/N): is there something you wanted to talk to me about?

(S/N): I hope you haven’t been annoyed at all the notifications you’ve been getting!

(cursedgod): No it’s okay

(cursedgod): we can collab if you want

Good Sukuna, good. Play it cool, don’t let them know that your fingers are actually trembling because you’re nervous.

(S/N): do you want to?? I don’t want to pressure you! I know we’re pretty different haha

(cursedgod): yeah, let's do it. Cooking?

(S/N): sure!

Looking around his home, he was suddenly assaulted with the fact that he didn’t have any furniture. He barely had a proper bedroom, just a mattress on a bare frame and a dresser. His lounge room was the same with his computer setup in one corner and then nothing else. There was only a couch, a mounted TV and a fold out table and chairs for his dining room.

(cursedgod): I know a studio kitchen we can use, I’ll send you the address

Thank god he’d done promo work for a brand in a studio one day, otherwise he’d be fucked.

(S/N): awesome! I’m free next Saturday!

And just like that, it was a date. Well, a meeting. Sukuna knew it wasn’t a date, but his heart still thumped like it was one. Confirming the time, he ended the conversation with a curt goodbye and obsessed about it throughout the night.

When the day to meet you came, Sukuna nearly ran late trying to pick out his clothes. He’d never cared about looking good or presenting himself well in front of others, whatever version of him he turned up in was what they got. But for you, he wanted to try a little harder.

Waiting outside the studio space, Sukuna rubbed his hands together nervously. You’d messaged a day or two ago offering to put the video on your channel since it probably wouldn’t fit his aesthetic, so he didn’t have to bring his shitty camera equipment.

“S-sukuna?” Snapping his head up, Sukunas mouth fell open looking at your curious face a few feet away, an Uber driving off behind you. You were even cuter in person, just his fucking luck. How was he expected to act like a normal person when his recent obsession was here looking better than he could have imagined.

“Hi.” What comes out is a grunt, not the smooth word he’d hoped. He can see you eyeing him up, taking in all the thick and corded muscles of his body. It made his chest puff out a little, he worked hard for this physique and to have you so openly looking at him made him happy.

“It’s nice to meet you!” Sticking your hand out, you smiled politely at him.

“Same.” Shaking your hand with a firm grip, Sukuna could feel the difference in your palms. Yours was soft and nicely moisturized and he had callouses everywhere and a few cuts and scrapes.

Opening the door for you, Sukuna led you to the studio space he’d rented out. It was a clean and modern kitchen, not unlike his own, but it had appliances and looked actually lived in. Helping you set up a few camera angles, Sukuna felt a pang of nerves hit him in the stomach.

“Sukuna, can we take a picture together?” You asked before starting, and Sukunas brow furrowed deeply. Why would you want to take a picture with him? His expression must have scared you, because you quickly backtracked. “F-for promo for this video, on Instagram and stuff!”

“Sure.” God, did he feel bad or what. He shouldn’t have made that face at you, now you wouldn’t look him in the eye. Crouching down to get the right angle for you, Sukuna watched you pick a cute animal filter.

“Just do what I do.” Throwing up a peace sign, you cutely tilted your head from side to side and smiled. Sukuna tried to do the same but he looked awkward, and most of all he was blushing pretty bad.

You snapped a multitude of pictures, some at different angles and some with different filters, and in all of them Sukuna was blushing at least a little. He managed to smile more as it went on, even laughing at one of the filters.

“Thanks! I’m going to post these really quick and then we can get started!” Giving him a brief smile, you turned back to your phone and set about editing some of the pictures. Looking over your shoulder, Sukuna could see that he looked like a blushing high schooler meeting their idol for the first time and not a grown man.

Once the photos were posted and you tagged him in everything, it was time to start. Setting up your marks on the floor, you took a generous drink of water and cleared your throat.

“Are you ready for the intro? I’ll start it and introduce you, okay?” You’d actually prepared a script for yourself, and showed Sukuna as well.

“Okay.” Stepping in front of the camera, Sukuna bristled at feeling you so close to him. Your arm brushed his casually as you were fixing your shirt, and Sukuna was glad he’d worn his most expensive cologne for this.

“Hi everyone, welcome to today's video! As you know, I’m (Y/N), and today we have a special guest today!” Throwing your arms in the air, you motioned to Sukuna.

“Hi.” He nodded, barely cracking a smile. He could feel you looking at him like you wanted to say something, but he didn’t look.

“So, many people have been asking for us to do a collaboration and it’s finally here!” Clapping your hands lightly, you rocked on your heels and nudged his shoulder with yours. “Do you want to tell them what we’ll be doing today?”

“Uh-” The playful nudge you’d given him was enough to make Sukuna short circuit. “I-I-” He suddenly couldn’t remember how to speak. “Rice?”

“Let’s try that again.” You laughed. “Do you want to tell them what we’ll be doing today?” This time, you didn’t nudge him with your shoulder.

“We’re gonna…” the words were on the tip of his tongue, they wanted to come out and be spoken but he couldn’t do it.

“It’s okay, it’s okay!” Nodding reassuringly, you took a deep breath in and out, and Sukuna shakily copied. “One more try?” When he looked at you, Sukuna expected to see a hint of annoyance in your face, but there was none. You were just smiling softly at him, waiting for his answer.

“Yeah. I’ll uh, I’ll get it next time.” Stepping away from the camera, Sukuna took a drink of water and cleared his throat. Cracking the bones in his neck, he took a deep breath and came back. “Let’s do it.” No more fucking embarrassments.

“Do you want to tell them what we’ll be doing today?” You asked for the third time, slightly swaying your body side to side this time.

“We’re gonna make katsudon today.” Finally, the words he wanted to say came out.

“That’s right! As you can see, Sukuna is really fit!” You immediately hopped in, giving his arm a brief squeeze. “And he knows how to make a ton of healthy meals!”

“Mhmm.”

“So I asked if he could help teach me, and all of you at home, how to make it!” Smiling at the camera, you waited a few seconds before relaxing and turning it off. “Did you like that? We can refilm it if you want.”

“No, it’s okay.” Running a hand through his hair, he pointed to the bag of rice he’d brought. “Let’s get started on this shit.”

Taking fifteen minutes to film the two of you filling up the rice cooker, when it was over, you set about getting aesthetic shots of the other ingredients. Sukuna tried to seem casual off to the side on his phone, but he was really watching you.

Getting started on chopping the ingredients, Sukuna somehow managed to say the things he was supposed to without stuttering too badly. He was amazed that you could make the things he was doing sound so interesting, your narration as you held the camera and tried to do things yourself was impressive to the man that barely knew anything about cameras.

“Sukuna, I need help cutting the meat.” You whined, tapping the meat on the cutting board with a knife. “I don’t remember how you showed me.”

“Here.” Without thinking, Sukuan grabbed your hand with the knife in it and moved it for you. “You just have to move your wrist more, it’s not that hard.” Doing it a few times, when Sukuna felt your chest expand with air against his, that’s when he realized how close the two of you were. “S-sorry.” Immediately jumping back, he stared at the floor.

“Thanks!” Giving him a smile, you kept at it.

“I’ll fry the meat.” Stepping in as soon as you were done, Sukuna already had the hot oil ready. He was eager to cook and do something with his hands instead of - what he felt like - was awkwardly watching you off to the side.

“Okay!” Grabbing the camera, you focused on the pan. “You’re really good at this, Sukuna!”

“T-thanks.” Staring directly at the pan, Sukuna didn’t look away. Even with the hot oil popping up from the pan a few times and burning his fingers, he didn’t flinch at all.

“Ow!” But you did. Your hand had gotten too close, and when Sukuna flipped the meat, some of the oil had gotten on your hand.

“Shit.” Abandoning the pan, Sukuna was ready to drag you over to the sink for some cool water.

“I-it’s okay, it was only a little.” Shaking your stinging hand, you point to the food. “But I think the meat might burn.”

“Shit!”

Narrowly avoiding disaster with the meat, when it came time to cook the eggs, you made a joke about how you liked your eggs in the morning and Sukuna burnt them almost immediately. While not an overtly sexual comment, the implications of the words still affected him.

Somehow, he managed to make the dish come together and while his plated dish didn’t come out the best, yours looked at least halfway decent with overcooked meat and burnt eggs. The only things not messed up were the rice and vegetables, and even then Sukuna was surprised.

“We did it everyone, we made katsudon!” Holding up the bowls, you smiled big and nudged Sukunas shoulder again. “You saw we had a few mishaps along the way, but that’s okay, that’s what made it fun.”

“Yeah, it was fun.” Sukuna chuckled. Despite him being more nervous than he’d ever thought possible, he had fun cooking alongside you.

“Sukuna, will you try mine? I made it super pretty and everything.” Holding your dish up to him, Sukuna wasn’t expecting you to do that. Now he felt bad that his looked so ugly and like a teenaged boy made it; he almost said no.

Eating yours though, somehow it tasted better than he was expecting. It must have been how you prepared it, and the fact that you cared so much about the presentation. Eating it in silence, he let you eat in peace as well for a few minutes and compliment the food to the camera.

“Alright, that’s the end of the video!” Putting your bowl down, you turned to Sukuna. “I had so much fun today, thanks for filming this with me.” Now was his chance to make everything better. Putting his bowl down and bolstering himself with confidence, Sukuna threw his arm over your shoulder and pulled you close to him.

“Thank you (Y/N), I really did enjoy today. I hope we can film again soon!” He squeezed your shoulder and smiled really big at not only you but the camera as well. He knew he was blushing, he knew that even the tip of his nose was a nice rosy shade, but he didn’t care. If people teased him for it, then so be it. But he wanted you to know how he truly felt.

“R-really? You want to?” You asked, looking up at Sukuna from your place smooshed against his body.

“Really.”

“Aww, well you heard it here first everyone! Sukuna wants to shoot another video with me!” Clapping your hands a few times, you waved at the camera. “Okay, bye everyone!”

“Bye.” Sukuna waved too, waiting a few seconds before letting you go and turning off the camera.

“Sukuna, did you really mean it? You want to film another video with me?” You were in utter disbelief. All this time, he’d just seemed very standoffish, if not a little awkward around you. You were happy to film this video with him, he had way more followers than you and it would help boost both your channels, and to hear him say that just made it even better.

“Yeah, I was serious.” Sukuna spoke around stuffing his mouth with the food he still had left. He was more hungry than he thought, the nerves doing a good job of twisting his stomach during the video. Now that it’s over, he can finally relax.

“That makes me really happy.” Eating the rest of your food as well, you leant against the counter. “This is gonna sound kind of mean, but I was really scared to film with you today. I thought you were going to be really mean.”

“Shit, you did?” He grimaced, letting out a sigh. “Sorry I had you worried.” He could already imagine the comments you would get from his fans.

“It’s okay! You’re actually way nicer in person, I was surprised!”

“That’s good.”

“And you’re really buff, you have muscles in places I didn’t even know were possible!” You laughed bashfully at that comment, and avoided looking at him when he stared at you in shock. “I couldn’t help but notice…”

Were you checking him out? Had you been checking him out this whole time and he didn’t even realize? He had seen you eyeing him up when you first met, but were you looking at him like that at other times as well? Now he’d really have to watch your video to see if it was true.

“Thanks, it’s my job.” Could he have said that any lamer? “My job outside of all this, I mean. I’m a trainer at this fancy gym downtown.”

“Oh, I’ve seen some of your videos at your gym! I know which one you’re talking about.”

“You do? You’ve seen my videos?” If he wasn’t surprised before, he was now.

“Yeah, you know I had to do a little research beforehand.” You nodded, beginning to clean up the dishes around you. “And I know you’ve already watched almost all of my videos, so it only seemed fair.”

Did you have to bring that up? Now Sukuna was embarrassed again.

“Y-yeah, I did.” Clearing his throat, Sukuna helped gather the dishes. He took up washing them, another task he could do to get his mind off you. As you took down the camera equipment, he nearly broke several dishes and utensils from scrubbing too hard.

“I’ll call you an Uber.” He said when all was said and done and you were back at the front of the building.

“You don’t have to, it’s okay.”

“No, I want to.” Quickly calling you a ride, Sukuna fiddled with his phone a little more. “Uh, could I- could I-” His voice kept leaving him, and he had to cough a few times. “Can I get your number? I really liked your camera shit and I want to improve mine.” Okay, it wasn’t a total lie. He did like your setup and wanted to make his just as good, but he really wanted your number to potentially talk to you more about things outside of Youtube.

“Sure! Go ahead and type it in.” You were quick to give him your phone, a cute pink phone case on the back of it. Typing it in, he can’t help but notice the little devil emoji you add by his name. He wants to ask, but your ride is already pulling up.

“Bye!” Setting all your camera gear inside the car, you turn and wave goodbye.

“See ya.” Just as you’re about to close the car door, Sukuna gets a burst of confidence. “Text me when you get home, okay?”

“Okay!” And off you go. Sukuna watches the car drive off until he can’t see it anymore. He takes his time getting to his own place, eagerly awaiting your message with every step. But even when you do message him, all he can do is send a thumbs up back and nothing else.

It’s about two and a half days after that that you text him again, letting him know you’re done editing and that you’re going to post the video soon. It wasn’t a very long video to begin with, so the editing was simple enough. Sukuna replied with what appeared to be a lackluster ‘can’t wait’, but on the inside he was shaking. He’d already screenshot all the pictures the two of you took together and added them to a folder.

“Here we go.” As soon as the video went live, Sukuna watched it. He was mortified as soon as it started at the blush so evident on his cheeks, and how it stayed throughout the whole thing. He groaned at the part where he helped you cut up the meat, he almost wishes you’d cut it out. Every little detail that made him embarrassed was there, every little nuance of his actions you’d managed to capture and make it cute.

(Y/N): How do you like it??

You texted him after twenty minutes, eager to hear his thoughts.

(Sukuna): it’s good, good editing and stuff

(Y/N): yay! I’m going to read comments in a few hours, you should too! I bet people will be really shocked!

(Sukuna): yeah no doubt

Oh, he was definitely going to read the comments. Whereas you were going to wait for a fair few to come in before commenting, Sukuna frequently refreshed the page and read the new ones as they came in. You were right, a lot of people were surprised, but he also saw a lot of his fans as well.

‘Ew Sukuna really cooked for that bitch? They can’t do it themselves?’

‘Yeah, why do they have to rely on him? Useless as fuck lol’

‘Sukuna only did this to get laid, (Y/N) looks like an easy fuck’

All of those comments, and many more, made his blood boil. Usually, he wouldn’t care at all about the comments, letting them fester in his comment section and spiral out of control. But for you, it was different.

‘Fuck off and die you pieces of shit. Leave (Y/N) alone or say it to my fucking face’

Sukuna sent that message, along with a variety of other threats, to all the people that insulted you. He didn’t care that this wasn’t his channel and that you would deal with it in whatever way you wanted to. He needed to defend you against the unwanted audience he’d brought you.

Luckily, after seeing Sukunas messages, all of his fans backed off. They knew how serious he was about his threats and there were many rumors that he actually did go and beat people up who said things he didn’t like. No one wanted to be on the receiving end of his torment.

With Sukunas name attached to the video and his heavy presence in the comment section, the video easily went viral. It was easily the most viewed video on your channel, getting on the trending pages of several different platforms.

(Sukuna): hey

It’s nearly a week after the first video that Sukuna messages you, and the hype is still going strong, and your follower count grows greatly from it.

(Y/N): hi! What’s up?

(Sukuna): do you want to film a video for my channel now? We can play a game, I have a few

(Y/N): sure that sounds fun!

Oh how wrong you were. The game Sukuna chose was a scary game, a shooter game with scary zombies and a lot of possible jumpscares. He doesn’t tell you either, so on the night of filming - he insisted on it being nighttime to get the full scary effect - you were caught off guard.

“I don’t know about this.” You whined once you saw the title. The two of you were video calling alongside playing the game together, and Sukuna’s eyes flicked to your figure on the screen.

“It’ll be okay, I’ll carry you, don’t worry.” He had started filming as soon as he’d set up the game, and you were filming yourself as well for him.

“You promise it won’t be too scary?”

“If it’s too scary just close your eyes and I’ll protect you.” Smiling softly at you, he started up the game. The beginning was fine, just a quick introduction to the game, but as soon as things started to get moving, you were scared.

“Sukuna a zombie is eating me!” You screamed, frantically pushing buttons in an attempt to get it off.

“It’s okay!” He quickly got rid of it, and made sure to stay close to your character as the story progressed.

“(Y/N) stay by me, there’s about to be a whole lot of them.”

“Close your eyes there’s about to be a jump scare here.”

“Don’t worry about getting that item, I’ll grab it for you!”

Sukuna nearly forgot he was being filmed, saying sweet things to you to help encourage you and make sure you weren’t overwhelmed. There were many parts where you screamed in fright and Sukuna was there to coo at you and tell you it was okay. He made sure that your character never died, making sure to keep you close until the end of the game.

“Sukuna, that was so hard!” Squishing your cheeks in your hands, you looked at him through your phone.

“It was fun though, wasn’t it? I had fun with you.” Completely abandoning the game, he stared down at his phone with a soft smile on his face.

“Yeah, when there weren’t so many zombies.” You stuck your tongue out at him, and it made him laugh. Leaning his head into his hand, Sukuna grinned when you yawned.

“Aw, are you tired? Better go to sleep soon.” His voice dropped to a lower volume, like you were right next to him.

“I will.” You yawned again and it made Sukuna yawn as well.

“Get off the phone and go to bed, you’re making me tired too.”

“Fine.” Whining out the word, you waved sleepily. “Goodnight Sukuna, I’ll send you the video files in the morning, okay?”

“Night.” Waving back, Sukuna waited until you hung up to turn his stuff off as well.

In the morning, Sukuna was ready to edit. What usually took him a week to edit out of laziness, he took only a day to edit this video with you together. Rewatching the footage, he nearly gagged at seeing how soft his face got when he looked at you, and most of those parts were left in because he couldn’t stand to watch them and fix them.

(Sukuna): videos up

The next day, he messaged you. Once again Sukuna patrolled the comments, swiftly deleting any that said even a hint of a bad thing about you. There was less this time, what with Sukuna adding a warning at the beginning of the video threatening anyone that talked down at you.

This video, like the first, went viral. But for a much different reason. Since Sukuna was emotionally unable to deal with how sappy he was and edit those parts out, everyone got to see how soft he was for you. If the comments weren’t mean, they were screaming about how you and Sukuna must be dating now, because why else would he look at you and talk to you like that?

And much to Sukuna’s dismay, there were also fancam edits of you two together. Any clippable moment of him being sweet on you in the videos you’d made together along with the photos you’d posted on Instagram were edited together and posted on Twitter. You both were tagged in every single one, making sure Sukuna saw all the videos of you and him together. He saved all of them too, delighting in the way you looked with him with all those pretty filters.

By the end of the day, people were trying to put a ship name together for the two of you and he’s seen you repost a few fancams with cute messages of thanks as well. Seeing you receptive to the fans screaming about the two of you made him happy, even if he was still too nervous to text you about anything outside of Youtube.

As more comments came in, people on Twitter were begging him to do a vlog with you. You had quite a few on your channel, going to cafes or filming what your day or week was like. Sukuna had watched them all and was jealous of every single person that appeared alongside you.

(Y/N): hey I’m doing a live on Instagram if you want to join me! I know people really like us together lol it’ll be great for views

(Sukuna): sure

Did you want him to join now? He’d just gotten out of the shower and thrown on a pair of sweats, he wasn’t exactly decent. But he didn’t want to waste time getting ready only for you to end the live.

“Hi Sukuna!” You smiled and waved when he appeared on the screen.

“Hey.” He waved back, not caring about the angle he was holding the camera in. He saw hearts begin to fill up the screen and comments started to fly by, almost all in caps about the fact he was shirtless talking to you.

“Guys, don’t be weird! Who cares that Sukuna is shirtless?” You tried to stop them, but it was clear you were flustered as well. You weren’t looking at him, peeking at him through the screen a few times.

“God you’re all thirsty as fuck.” Sukuna finally looked at himself on the screen. He was shirtless and in bed, hair slightly damp and tousled on his pillow. Reading a few comments, he shot up. “Of course I’m wearing pants, you nasty fuck!” Storming out of bed, he stood in front of the only mirror in his house that wasn’t in the bathroom and turned the camera around. “See, look!”

“Oh.” Gasping softly, you were glad Sukuna didn’t notice you screenshot the live. Clad in only gray sweatpants, Sukuna’s freshly cleaned skin gleamed in the light of his bedroom and every single muscle and edge of his body was on display.

“There, told you I wasn’t fucking naked.” Rolling his eyes, he flopped back down on the bed. None of the comments had gotten any better, all of them talking about how hot he was and how you were so lucky to know him in real life.

“L-let's talk about something else.” You stammered, not showing your face on camera for a few minutes. Sukuna laughed at the comments teasing you for being embarrassed, agreeing with some of them under his breath.

“So, what the fuck are you all doing here?” Sukuna posed the question at the chat, but at you as well.

“Well before you came everyone was talking about you...and you know how everyone has been begging for us to vlog?” You started off slowly, peeking an eye at his face.

“Yeah?”

“I wanted to call you to ask how you felt about that?” How he felt? Why did you want to know?

“You couldn’t have texted me that?” That wasn’t necessarily what he wanted to say, but it made you chuckle, so it was okay.

“No! I wanted to ask so everyone could know!”

“I don’t mind it.” If you wanted to vlog with him, he would do it in a heartbeat.

“So…” Worrying your lip, you looked off camera for a few seconds before looking directly at Sukuna. “Would you like to be in a vlog with me, at a cafe? It’s outside the city, kind of far, but we can rent a car or-”

“Yes.” Sukuna interrupted, nodding his head quickly. “I’ll come. We don’t have to rent a car, I’ll drive.”

“Really?” The comments were just as shocked as you were. Sukuna never filmed anywhere but his home and the gym, this would be a monumental occasion.

“Did you want me to say no?”

“No!” You screamed immediately, nearly dropping your phone. “I just- I wasn’t expecting you to say yes!”

“Well I did.” Sukuna bit his lip, running a hand through his hair and flexing his arm. “So I guess it’s a date, huh?” His normal asshole confidence was back now that you were appearing through a screen and not right next to him. A surprised sound came from the back of your throat, and you nearly dropped the phone again.

“Y-yeah! A date!” It felt good to have you flustered for once and not Sukuna. Laughing heartily at you, Sukuna smirked at the comments.

“Was that all you wanted to ask me or was there something more?”

“No, that was it!”

“Alright.” Licking his lip and letting his tongue hang out of his mouth a little, Sukuna watched you bite your lip as well. “Well I’m gonna go, I got stuff to do, but I’ll text you later (Y/N).” Dropping his voice as he said goodbye, Sukuna left the livestream.

“Holy fuck.” As soon as his phone was off, Sukuna let out a breath he’d been holding in. His heart was pounding hard despite how confident he was in his actions. Flirting was nothing new to him, but with you it felt different and like he’d never done it before in his life.

He watched the rest of your livestream while he finished getting ready for bed, laughing at the comments still teasing you about getting flustered with him. The notifications for Twitter were going off as well, and he knew for sure that there were new fancams for him to check out later.

(Y/N): Sukuna!! You’re so embarrassing!

Texting him after your stream, your cheeks were still burning at the memory.

(Sukuna): hey, you said it would be good for views and it was

(Y/N): I know…

(Y/N): did you really mean it, about coming with me?

(Sukuna): of course. If I didn’t want to I would have said no

(Y/N): that’s good lol!

There was a lull in conversation, and Sukuna nearly fell asleep waiting for you to either text him again or for him to figure out what to say next.

(Y/N): so, a date huh? Are you going to bring me flowers?

Now he was awake. He didn’t expect you to bring that up again, and his eyes flew open. Sukuna’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, mind going blank on what to say.

(Y/N): lol just kidding! I know you only said that for the stream! I’ll text you later about the details, I’m about to knock out

(Y/N): goodnight :)

Well shit. Now he definitely wanted it to be a date.

#jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen scenarios

974 notes · View notes

captainlevisteacup · 3 years

Note

Oooh, an idea has struck. The brothers reacting to Dom Male!MC reuniting with his childhood bestfriend in the Devildom, only their bestfriend is now a high ranking/powerful incubus who has a fuck ton of influence & money. (Not nearly as powerful as any of the brothers or Diavolo, of course, but you get the point)

And while normally a simple childhood friend wouldn’t be enough to bother the brothers, DM!MC’s Femboy CH!Bestfriend is the optimum of gorgeous, with a lithe & toned body and an “innocent” charm to him.

Spoiler Alert, CH!Bestfriend has been in love with DM!MC since they were kids (though it was just puppy love back then) and is determined to never let him get away from him again, resulting in him being extra clingy and needy.

Another Spoiler Alert, DM!MC’s childhood bestfriend may or may not be a mix of a “Worship” & “Self Sacrifice” Yandere.. (Look up “The Dere Types Wiki” if your confused)

You have some very interesting ideas😂 im so sorry this took so long, I didn't want to post it until I was back up to my full working capacity after getting injured and after breaking up with someone😁

Anyways, without further ado, here ya go😘

The Brother's Reactions to M! MC'S Yandere Childhood Incubus! Friend

Warnings: Violence, Language, Blood, VERY SLIGHT sexual themes, some non-consentual touching in Levi's section, brief mention of drugging in Beel's

Lucifer

At first, didn't think twice of MC having a childhood friend

But when he heard the word incubus

He got the smile on his face

You know the one

Lucifer "innocently" is around whenever the incubus is around

Its starts off small

Little poisoned glances from the incubus here and there

But eventually it escalated and turned into him putting a possessive arm around MC's waist

Lucifer snapped

The second the Incubus was alone, Lucifer followed him down an alley

Slammed that fucker against the wall and held him there by the throat

The incubus started laughing, even when Lucifer tightened his grip

"You'll never get rid of me. I have connections to everyone, Fallen Angel. I've loved him since before you even knew he existed, and a prissy peacock like you isnt gonna stop me from making him mine, even if I have to drug and kidnap him"

Lucifer only smiled and released him

The incubus smirked, daintily dusting off his lithe figure

Thinking he won, he shouldered his way past Lucifer

Only to stop short in horror

Deep growls greeted him

Lucifer didn't even bother hiding the screams of the incubus as Cerberus ripped into him

After a while, he signaled Cerberus to stop

As the incubus lies on the ground whimpering, Lucifer calmly says:

"Now that I've shown you just what I'm willing to do to protect MC, I'll make you a deal. MC cares about you, as a FRIEND. But his heart belongs to me and me alone, and mine belongs to him. If you can understand and respect that, I'll allow you near him. But one wrong word, one wrong placement of a hand, and I won't hesitate to finish you off myself. And believe me," he says with a dark chuckle "I won't be as gentle as Cerberus."

Mammon

This man immediately is on high alert

Someone trying to take what's HIS?

The incubus makes him more greedy than ever

Decides not to leave MC's side for a second

Even when he's sleeping

When Mammon can't help the incu-bitch (his nickname for the childhood friend) being around, he acts sort of like a child, which makes him look like a dick in comparison to the incubus's calm and innocent facade

Mammon tries to tell MC there's something up, but he just chalks it up to Mammon being Mammon

One day, MC randomly receives news from the human world that his mother contracted something contagious and was placed in ICU

The incu-bitch was, of course, right there when MC started tearing up, letting him cry into his shoulder

Mammon sees this and starts to protest

This leads MC to snap and tell Mammon he's being a child

Mammon leaves them be and thinks hard

Comes to the conclusion that maybe MC is right, and he begrudgingly decides to apologize to the incubus

As he approaches him, Mammon catches a glimpse of the Incubus's *expensive* phone

Unable to resist, he throws a coin against the wall in the opposite direction.

When he turns to look at the noise, Mammon snatches the phone and yeets off to his room

When he gets there, he opens the phone- no lock- and is startled by what he sees

A fake texting app, along with the messages telling MC his mother was sick

Mammon was about to run to find MC, when he heard a slight chuckle

Looking up, he saw the incubus...holding a knife

"You just couldn't stay away, could you? You've been a pain in the ass ever since I got here. But no matter, once MC sees how *cruel* you are to his defenseless childhood friend, he'll want nothing to do with you. And he'll be mine to fuck and own as I please."

Mammon gritted his teeth and ground out "Making MC think his mother was gravely ill just to get close to him when he's vulnerable? You're disgusting. I actually care about MC, and I respect them more than you ever will."

The incubus snorted, and raised the knife.

"Oi! What do ya think you're doing with that?" Mammon yelled

He raised the knife....and slashed it across his own arm

He then threw the knife towards Mammon, threw himself to the ground, and yelled out in pain

Suddenly, MC burst into the room

Mammon sputtered out a panicked explanation, but MC cut him off with a stare

He kneeled down next to his friend, who reached up with a bloody hand to cup MC'S face

MC put his hand over the incubus's....and sharply bent it backwards

He leaned down and whispered into his ear: "I heard everything, you little shit. Now, get the FUCK out of my house and away from my boyfriend, and don't even THINK of defiling my life with your presence ever again"

After he left, Mammon cautiously said "boyfriend, huh..?"

"Shut up mammon"

Levi

Oh, this won't do

Immediately feels threatened and triggered

He is the avatar of Envy, after all

His response?

Prove to MC nobody can know him as well as he can

He does this every single time the incubus is near

"MC, I got you your favorite drink!"

"MC, I ordered you some food. Don't worry, I already know what you like"

Flinches whenever the incu-bitch touches MC. It literally makes him cringe

His suspicions are confirmed when the incubus shoots Levi a malicious glance next time he touches MC

Levi snaps

Challenges the incubus to a video game duel

He surprisingly accepts

He cheats like hell and beats Levi

Levi goes into his demon form and rages

But MC thinks he's just being a sore loser

He tells Levi to back off and to go cool down

Once Levi storms off, the incu-bitch thanks MC for standing up for him

Then, he promptly tries to make a move on MC

He reaches out a hand to unbutton MC'S shirt

MC slaps his hand away, but not before noticing writing on the Incubus's hand

Before he can pull away, MC snatches his hand and sees cheat codes written on them

Gets super upset and tries to get up to apologize to Levi

The incubus pulls him back down by his wrist and pins them to the couch

"MC, don't you realize? You're all I want, all I need. I WORSHIP you, MC. And you're going to be mine. Nobody else can have you. And you're going to love me, whether you realize it right now or not. You'll learn with time to need me just as desperately as I need you"

Starts to take off MC'S clothes in spite of their fighting and protests, the incubus shushing him

"Shhhh, I know you don't see it, but this will make you see."

Levi slams open the door, tail lashing and face white with rage

"Get your normie hands the fuck off of my human. Now."

The incubus nopes the fuck out. He may be a high ranking incubus, but he still isn't as strong as one of the seven demon brothers.

Levi holds MC tightly as they fumble over an apology

"Shhh MC, its okay. I'm here now. Let's watch some anime and calm down together, yea?"

Satan

Do I even have to explain this one?

Is hostile as soon as MC even MENTIONS a childhood male friend, let alone an INCUBUS

Honestly, the Incubus is a bit scared of Satan

But, he decides he wants MC more than he fears Satan

So, he swallows his fear and patronizes Satan in tiny, unremarkable ways

Ways that would only be noticed by Satan

A stray hand here and there that lingers a LITTLE too long

Wiping a crumb from MC'S lips during a meal

Tucking a stray hair behind MC'S ear

Every last one of these actions makes his blood boil

It gets so bad that Satan is just in a perpetual state of rage, never leaving his demon form

Satan starts passive aggressively insulting the incubus's intelligence

"Oh, you mean you don't know how disestablishmentarianism impacted the overall congruence of Midwest society? Thats odd, its fairly simple. Practically common sense."

Is shocked when MC got livid at him, because he was being condescending for seemingly no reason

Starts to get angry at MC

"Can't you see? He's trying to turn you against me. Just LISTEN, DAMNIT!" He says as he grabs MC'S shoulders

The incubus barges in and shoves Satan away from MC

"Are you ok, MC? Did he hurt you?"

The amount of white hot rage in the room was tangible

He can't do it anymore

Slams the incubus against the wall

Knocks him to the ground

But when he falls down

A bunch of photos fall out of his jacket

Not normal photos

Horrifying ones

One of MC while he showers

One of MC sleeping

One of MC changing

Even one of MC and Satan having a steamy moment

MC goes still...and then SLAPS the shit out of the incubus.

He wordlessly turns to Satan, eyes pleading

"It would be my pleasure, MC" *evil grin*

Cue Satan dragging the incubus off by his hair

Asmo

P A S S I V E A G R E S S I V E

He sees this lovely incubus with NEARLY perfect hair, a lithe and toned body, and a seemingly innocent attitude, and he just wants him gone

He's been with plenty of Incubi, so he knows what they're like

Because of this, he doesn't want this one anywhere NEAR his darling MC

Comes up with a plan to use all his fashion design connections to outdress the incubus

He knows they're vain by nature, so he comes to the conclusion that this is the best course of action

But there's a problem

"Is that a statement piece from Priya Lacroix? She hasn't even released her collection yet"

Asmo.exe is not responding

He knows that HE is the only one Priya would ever give an early release to

So why does THE INCUBUS have her statement piece?

And WHERE is his phone?

Complains to MC, but MC doesn't take him seriously because he's too busy catching up with his friend

Asmo gets jealous and storms off to do a stress relieving skin routine

As MC and the incubus hang out, the incubus's phone goes off

Only...the ringtone is sinful indulgence

Mammon storms into the room

"AHA! I FOUND YA ASMO, YOU ANNOYING LITTLE- huh?"

"I/N? Why do you have Asmo's phone?"

"MC, you have to understand, I just want you to realize I'm the only right one for you. You NEED to realize you can't be with anyone else. Because you're mine, MC. You always have been."

Screeching could be heard in the distance, then footsteps quickly getting closer and closer

"THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY" Asmo yells as he slams open the door

"As if MC would choose a crusty, obsessive, STEALING, lying, probably STD having Incubus like you over me! Now give me my phone back and get out of here. And while you're at it, take off that Priya piece. There's a reason I'm the only one allowed early access."

Beel

Honestly doesn't think that much of it at first

He thinks its nice MC reunited with one of his childhood friends, and an Incubus at that

But when he meets the friend, something just feels off

He gets a weird sensation, and its not hunger

Its like his senses are on red alert

The incubus was nice enough to Beel, seemingly charming and genuine

But Beel couldn't help but feel rubbed the wrong way, with a sensation similar to seaweed against legs in the ocean

He doesn't want to mention this to MC, because he's convinced he's just overreacting

He feels a little sad that MC is too busy for him, but he does his best to give them time together

One night, he had made some food in the kitchen and decided to bring MC and I/N some

When he neared the door, he almost dropped the plate

He heard a loud thud, and MC saying "Hey, I said no, okay?"

He gently opened the door and looked at MC, who immediately forced a smile to his face

"Hey MC, I brought you guys some food. Is everything ok?"

"Thanks Beel, that's sweet of you. Everything's fine, I promise"

Beel relaxed a bit, although he still knew something was off.

The incubus excused himself to use the restroom, encouraging MC to eat without him

Beel and MC sat down, and Beel scarfed down his portion

Chuckling, MC offered his plate to Beel, who gladly accepted

The incubus opened the door shortly after with an expectant look on his face, as well as rope and a gag in his hands

Upon laying eyes on MC, a shocked expression came onto his face as his eyes darted between MC and the empty plate

"How are you still conscious?" He blurted

Confusion flashed across MC'S face. "What do you mean, I/N?"

"You drugged it, didn't you?" Beel spoke up.

"I thought it tasted odd," Beel continued "but I never would have guessed you would actually drug MC. I'm guessing you couldn't handle that MC rejected your advances, so you drugged the food while MC was distracted talking to me. Am I right?"

The incubus chuckled. "Guess I was wrong about you. You are more of a threat than you seem. Heh, I guess you're not just a talking stomach after all."

A loud smack could be heard shortly thereafter.

But the devastating blow didn't come from Beel

It came from an enraged MC

"Trying to drug me I could keep my cool over. If thats all you did I would have just told you to stay the hell away from me. But the SECOND you spoke to Beel like that, you signed your own death warrant."

Before he could react, MC summoned the brothers one by one, Beel explaining the situation.

"Well, MC, perfect timing as always. I was just beginning to get bored" Satan drawled

*screams*

Belphie

It takes a yandere to know one

Belphie doesn't want to alarm MC though, so he decides to outmaneuver the incubus without him noticing

It starts small, with I/N reaching out to put an arm over MC'S shoulder, and Belphie's arm already being there

Eventually, they start glaring daggers at each other the second MC looks away

After a while, Belphie decides to up the ante

Religiously falls asleep on MC when I/N is trying to spend time with him

Goads the incubus so much that he corners Belphie when he snaps and can't take any more

"Listen, I know exactly what you're doing. But if you think that YOU can take him away from me, you're sorely mistaken. MC is mine whether he likes it or not. And if it turns out to be the latter, well, let's just say he won't have much of a choice in the matter, nor will you have any control over it. Got that?"

Belphie does the one thing he knows will get the outcome he had painstakingly built up to the past couple weeks: he laughs

"Ah, you have a good sense of humor, know that? Funny stuff. All kidding aside, MC already belongs to me. So your child's play isn't gonna cut it. Got THAT?"

With a choked cry of fury, the incubus pulls out a knife and stabs Belphie

Belphie, having planned this, falls to the floor just as the door opens to reveal a shocked MC.

"BELPHIE! Shit, please be okay! What the FUCK is wrong with you, I/N?"

The stunned Incubus could only stammer out a couple words

"I- he...was gonna...tried to take what was mine. Tried to take you..."

MC laughed bitterly and shoved him to the floor.

"I don't know what sick world you're living in, but I belong to Belphie. I love him. And I hate YOU. Now I'll leave you be so you can deal with THAT. Ta ta." He says as he scoops up Belphie and heads out the door

"Deal with what?" I/N nervously asks after him, backing up warily

The incubus stops when his back hits something hard.

Gulping, he looks up...

"Hello, I/N, I'm Beel."

"Nice to...meet you? I imagine you're one of the brothers?" He replies shakily

Beel smiles. The light doesn't reach his eyes.

"Yes, I'm one of the brothers. You see, I'm Belphie's twin."

Across the house, Belphie smiles at the faint screams, MC curled up next to him after patching him up.

He succeeded in protecting what was his. He deserves a good nap. Holding MC tighter, he goes back to sleep.

#obey me #obey me headcanons #beel obey me #leviathanobeyme #lucifer obey me #mammon obey me #yandere #yandere belphie #asmo obey me #obey me asks

227 notes · View notes

deniigi · 3 years

Note

my supervisor fucked me over with all my other coworkers present. can I request a one shot from you to cheer me up featuring Sammy?

Did I give y’all the fic about the hotpot?

Well if I didn’t, I’m giving it to you now.

Title: hotpot

Summary: Ganke checks the comments for the Blindspot comic daily and there’s this one asshole anon who keeps talking shit about BT.

The Blindspot comic went live in the fall and Ganke couldn’t stop checking the hit count every five seconds. All night there had only been ten hits.

He told himself not to be disappointed. The only person who really mattered had read and loved the comic.

Miles said that BT had even forced everyone on the team to read an abridged version of Journey to the West, and had gone as far as to make a quiz to determine everyone’s character.

Miles refused to disclose who he’d gotten.

BT had clearly rigged the game to make himself Sun Wukong and Ganke was proud of him.

That kind of enthusiasm was exactly what he’d been hoping for, anything else now was just icing on the cake.

Even though it would be cool if it wasn’t just BT reading his own comics.

That would be pretty cool, right? Like. If people online all started reading BT’s comic. That would be sort of amazing.

Kind of excellent.

Definitely worthy of an A+ and double pats on the back.

Right?

The hit counter didn’t think so. But hey, five more people had opened the page since last night. That was something, wasn’t it?

MM: dude why not just ask Sam to tweet out the link?

How dare you, Miles Morales.

How dare you waltz into this place with logical thought.

GL: I can’t do that. That’s like. Idk. Inflating the views.

MM: okay yeah explain to me how appealing to the person in control of the largest part of his own fandom is inflating the views

GL: I see your logic and I’m banishing it

MM: I’m messaging him

GL: DON’T

MM: too late

MM: he says ‘gimme link’

GL: asdksjsjdks

@blindspot: hi I know y’all can’t get enough of me to the point of asking shockingly invasive questions and for you I say good news! Some amazing folks have gone through the trouble of making a Blindspot comic. it’s good guys check it out [link]

It helped.

A lot.

It helped a lot.

People, on the whole, had great things to say. The panels were screenshotted and tagged and sent all over social media and even though Miles was pretending to be chill and aloof about the whole thing, Ganke could imagine him smiling big and bright and white at his phone non-stop.

Mom and Auntie saw a few of the bits on Twitter and tittered over them in the kitchen like pigeons.

The pride rose like a wave. Ganke kept waiting for the crash.

It came two days later in the form of a comment that read ‘Christ, look at all this fuss. BT is fine. I hate his brother.’

It felt like someone punching the wind out of Ganke’s lungs.

He took comfort in the handful of people who leapt in to shout down the commenter. They emphasized that if the anonymous commenter didn’t like the story or the characters, then they didn’t have to read it and they, especially, didn’t have to say anything about it.

Ganke appreciated those guys. He got the feeling that a lot of the people on there knew that the whole thing had been done but a couple of kids.

Not that Anon cared.

Anon replied to all these comments ‘No, I’m gonna keep reading, thanks. Anyways, the brother is lame. The smart part is cool, but why’s it always gotta be a guy?’

The part that haunted Ganke even after he’d shut his laptop and had gone to stick his head out the window for some big breaths of cleansing air was that Anon was kind of right.

GL: should we have made Guotin’s brother a sister?

MM: no

GL: why not?

MM: cause BT’s always wanted a brother

Oh.

Okay. Then it was fine?

MM: yeah man ignore them. it’s chill.

GL: k thanks my ego is huge and fragile

MM: trust me I know

Asshole. Fine, moving right along.

It didn’t stop. Anon commented on every page. Every. Single. Page.

Ganke didn’t know what to do or say. On the one hand, clearly this person was dedicated and deeply engaged with the comic, on the other hand, they needed a Rude Alert button. Ganke wondered if Ned could code one for them and them only.

The latest of their fury was directed at the big reveal in the second issue—BT’s face.

Having now met Sam, BT, Blindspot, Ganke’s whole image of him had changed.

He was not conventionally attractive as far as like, K-Pop idols and famous Chinese dudes went. His eyes were puffy and narrow and his face was round everywhere but the jaw. He leaned more towards ‘cute’ than ‘sexy,’ which Ganke sort of loved about him.

He was friendly. Stressed and grumpy and feisty as hell, yeah, but first and foremost friendly.

Miles claimed that he called it his ‘number one asset in employability.’ Which was wild because hello, Blindspot.

Obviously, BT couldn’t help his face. But Miles and Ganke could help Guotin’s.

Ganke had sent Miles about fifteen different images of Chinese celebrities and had told him to do his worst. They’d reviewed the final few drafts and had picked one that was most like a young Chen Kun. His face was more oval-shaped than BT’s. His chin and lips were slimmer but more defined. He was pretty, but not so pretty as to be called ‘feminine,’ which Ganke thought was a solid compromise between ‘handsome as sin’ and ‘looks like he’s got a quirky sense of humor.’

Anon hated him.

Anon thought that he looked like an idol, and they were not here for it.

They told ‘the artist’ to give him a mole or something, anything to make him look ‘less pristine. God, I can smell him from here and he smells like Dior and staph habitat.’

Ganke had to look up what a staph infection was. He regretted it. He asked Miles if they should censor Anon.

Miles said ‘mmmmm, idk it’s not like they aren’t saying anything that isn’t true.’

Ganke resented that. Clearly this was defamation of BT. This person hated him and was taking their feeling out on the comic.

MM: I mean yeah but it’s not like they’re talking about the comic, man. They’re talking about the style and like, thinking about it, a mole or smth to help you tell him apart from other folks would kind of be helpful. Like, especially if we ever put him in a crowd, you know?

HHHHHH.

Fine.

Anon could stay. But they were on thin ice.

It was hard not to be bitter about Anon’s comments, especially when they arrived daily, as though Anon knew exactly what they were doing and which page they’d left off at. They couldn’t possibly be reading the comic one page at a time, this was intentional.

Ganke’s jaw hurt from all the tooth grinding he’d endured as of late.

This latest one read ‘yo, has BT ever mentioned fighting with a sword? I don’t recall him mentioning. Someone should take that thing away from him before someone loses an eye—or maybe even two.’

That felt like a pointed jibe.

That turned the churning irritation in Ganke’s gut into something much, much colder.

Did Anon know about BT’s black and blue eyes? How could they know? Was it a coincidence? It seemed to be more than a coincidence.

The pile of critiques was growing bigger and bigger, and now that Ganke thought about it, they all seemed to take issue with things that didn’t match the real Blindspot’s personality.

It was as if they knew him.

GL: miles did you read the new comment from AnonTheAsshole?

MM: lol yeah

GL: tell me if I’m talking out my ass or whatever but like

GL: you don’t think they could be Muse, could they?

Silence.

MM: oh no

Yeah. Fuck.

MM: chances are low.

GL: they know so much tho??

MM: might be stalker? Maybe someone who’s over-invested in BT’s social media pages?

GL: maybe.

MM: hold on let me ask Spidey to screen it

GL: does he know Muse?

MM: no, but he’s paranoid and he’ll get Wade to be paranoid with him, and then they can decide whether its worth giving to DD for verification. He knows Muse.

Ganke’s head was spinning. His fingers shook with guilt and the thought of Muse’s pale body hunched over a secret, cracked cell phone in a high security prison who knew where.

In Ganke’s head, he smiled wider and wider, until the skin on his cheeks cracked. He dug out scraps of paper and redrew Blindspot—Sam—with gaping holes for eyes and a screaming mouth and he drew dismembered corpses in black lakes and he laughed.

He just kept laughing.

MM: hey ganke

MM: it’s going to be okay. It’s just a comic. I’m sure AnonTheAsshole is a stalker. They’re not threatening anyone.

MM: Sam can deal with a stalker. And we can too, okay?

There was a reason that Miles was a hero. Ganke wiped at his eyes and swallowed.

GL: okay. Thanks for doing that.

MM: 👍🏾

It took a few hours because Spidey and Deadpool had lives outside of being Spidey and Deadpool, but not so long that Ganke ran out of nails to chew.

Miles messaged him back and said that Spidey had read through everything and ‘escalated it.’ This meant that whatever he’d seen had caused him enough concern to take it to DP.

Miles said that he’d get back to Ganke with DP’s verdict as soon as he had it. In the meantime, he’d run the comments by the other Spideypeople and they thought that it most likely wasn’t malevolent but was maybe something to keep an eye on in the meantime. He tacked onto all, somewhat stiltedly, that he had a weird feeling all of the sudden. The pink Spidey’s tone had changed. She’d shut down and gone cagey, which allegedly wasn’t like her at all. Then she’d told the taller guy to DM her and they’d vanished from the chat. Miles wasn’t sure what was going on there or if maybe they knew something about stuff going on that he didn’t, but he wasn’t super comfortable with it.

GL: crossing my fingers its nothing?

MM: same man, same.

DP escalated it.

Ganke couldn’t stay still in his room. There was no comfortable place to sit or stand or lay. There was nothing to do that would make him stop thinking about everything.

MM: It’s gonna be fine, man, DD always knows what to do.

Miles kept saying that for every step of the way, and yet here they were. Double escalated. Ganke wasn’t so sure he even knew what was happening anymore.

That was scary. Miles was supposed to be part of the in-crowd.

MM: Wade doesn’t think it’s anything that can’t be nipped in the bud.

That was easy for a contract assassin to say, wasn’t it?

MM: he says that you and I are fine. Doesn’t see any links there. Waiting on DD for confirmation of tone.

Hurry up, Daredevil. Your apprentice’s life might be about to take a nosedive into a heap of trash.

Two hours. One text.

MM: >:/

Ganke couldn’t contain the bubble of laughter.

GL: good news?

MM: [image]

He opened it.

SC: HANNAH YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE. STOP BEING A BITCH ON MAIN

HC: You can’t tell me what to do

SC: I CAN

HC: Mom he’s being MEAN

SC: Mom she’s scaring children online

HC: I scare children everywhere I go why are these ones special???

SC: Because I said so

HC: that doesn’t fucking work Samuel you’re not her

SC: I am your older brother

SC: your ELDEST brother

HC: YOU AINT SHIT

SC: THEY DON’T COUNT

SC: HALFSIES COUNT

What.

MM: so.

MM: she’s not Muse.

MM: Red’s laughing his ass off at all of us for taking this to a level three

GL: wait I don’t understand

MM: Hannah is Sam’s little sister. She’s found a new hobby in our website.

Blindspot’s little sister was reading the comic??? Holy shit.

GL: she hates him?

MM: no I’ve been informed that they would literally commit murder for each other but this is how they express love.

No way. Siblings were wild.

GL: so we’re good?

MM: [image]

SC: apologize 🔪

HC: eat my ass

SC: apologize or else

HC: or else what? You gonna come in here and sit on me? Huh? Huh????

SC: I know your email password. All 3 you cycle through. What was his name? Uuuuuuuuuh Jing?

HC: you fucking bastard

SC: Hi Jing, it’s me, Hannah. I’ve been in mad crush with you since sophomore year. Please notice me senpai 😖

HC: Die

SC: kill me

HC: I will.

The giggles that came this time were a mix of relief and genuine intrigue. This lady read the comic every day. She took the time to scroll through pictures of her brother being an absolute lunatic and fighting with a huge monkey. Then she hopped into that comment box and took him—not Miles, not Ganke, specifically Blindspot--down a peg.

She must miss him a lot. Ganke wondered if this was her way of keeping him in her thoughts.

MM: I don’t think we’re getting a sorry, man. DD says Sam’s been at this all morning and has been tricked into apologizing himself twice

GL: so you’re saying that she’s an evil genius

MM: idk but she’s def Sam’s main nemesis. I always thought that older siblings got like, rights or something over younger ones, but idk anymore. Angel says this is normal.

GL: do you think she misses him?

Miles took a long time to respond.

MM: yeah

Yeah, Ganke thought so, too.

GL: should we change Guo tin’s brother’s name to ‘hamish?’

MM: ASDLDSDSFKdsjf

MM: one moment.

MM: sam says yes. Hannah says that she thinks our comic is shit and we need to draw everything uglier

GL: she’s kind of funny

MM: 👀perhaps she would like to be a consultant?

GL: 👀👀👀👀

MM: brb asking

MM: sam says no. Hannah says she’s got better things to do than proofread comics on the internet. She’s also not sorry. She wants that to be clear. DD says that the conversation has moved from English to Chinese and to maybe duck and cover for now. He says all is good tho. Thanks for checking in.

MM: Muse doesn’t use punctuation and talks in riddles, so if we get any of that, we’re supposed to send it to DP right away.

Oh, nice. That was a relief.

MM: oh

MM: sam wants to put us in a chat. Can I give him your number?

Uh, only if he wanted Ganke to hyperventilate.

GL: sure

[GL has been added to a Secure Chat]

It was a page of characters and emojis that were somehow more menacing than Ganke had ever seen them before. Miles popped a little waving hand into the fray, as though testing the waters, but the characters just carried on scrawling around it.

Ganke wasn’t quite sure what to do.

GL: hi? Are y’all okay?

There was finally a pause. Then a few shorter lines of characters. And then finally, Blindspot switched from Chinese to English.

SC: yes we’re FINE. We’re GREAT. Aren’t we, sibling from hell?

HC: who’re you? Why are you in our family chat? This is a family only zone, can’t you read?

SC: God Hannah he’s Korean don’t be a dick

HC: I can’t not be I learned it from you

SC: fair but pretend in the face of company

HC: okay fine. Hello losers.

MM: adksadfadsdfldfsldf

MM: hi

GL: hi?

SC: go on

HC: UGH

HC: fine

HC: I didn’t mean to shit talk your creation. Only my brother.

SC: also a sin, we’ll get to that later

HC: no one cares about you Samuel, stop spreading lies

SC: you first. We both know this is no lie, my white dad cares about me a whole lot

HC: well we can’t all have white dads now can we

SC: don’t be jealous

MM: lol you really call Matt your white dad??

HC: who is this person and how do they know our mutual parent’s name?

SC: this is not a mutual parent situation how many times have we been through this. He’s mine. Get your own.

MM: hi! 👋🏾I’m Bitsy! Spidey no. 4

GL: I’m his friend. He draws the comic. I write it.

HC: oh. nerd children x2

HC: anyways yeah Matt is our dad

SC: ffs

MM: he’s sort of dadly ig.

HC: ?? oho

SC: mind your face. Think about your face. Think about how much you like your face.

HC: little spider, did you not hear?

SC: kay everyone out. We’re done here

MM: hear what?

HC: lol Sammy you didn’t tell them about how Matthew Mcconaughey adopted you in all ways but paperwork?

Ganke held his phone away from his face as far as it would go.

MM: …wait are you for real?

SC: no. okay out.

HC: awwww Sammy so shy now. What are you embarrassed about? It’s cute.

SC: Hannah literally shut up I’m not playing

HC: damn okay sorry

MM: can I be honest?

SC: no

MM: I’m going to be anyways: I think we all sorta knew.

SC: …

HC: right?

SC: what does that even mean?

MM: idk, it just felt right, you know? You two are always fussing at each other and red lost his shit that time you got shot. He doesn’t treat you the way he treats the rest of us and we’re his teammates. He doesn’t even treat spidey like he treats you. So like, yeah. It fits.

MM: I’m really happy for you guys.

MM: is there a reason it’s a secret?

Ganke eased himself back down onto the mattress. This was real. This was like, actual, real information. Something that he and like, four other people in the world now knew.

He kind of wanted to forget it. It didn’t feel right to know.

SC: I dunno.

HC: if sam has an honest emotion towards anything he has to calculate its weight so he can make space for it in his collection of satellites.

MM: wh

SC: you’re so not funny.

HC: it’s called emotional repression, darling. It’s all the rage in this family.

MM: oh

MM: so that’s why you and Red get on so well

SC: HHHHHHH

HC: HA

SC: okay but listen his is different, I’ve only seen him cry at his wedding. I cry at least 4 times a week. Obviously under the bed, but that can’t be emotional repression. That’s expression. That’s clearly expression

HC: I can make the old man cry watch me

SC: please don’t I’ll die

MM: awwwww

SC: shut up it doesn’t even matter.

MM: AWWWWWW

SC: LEAVE ALREADY

MM: no I like it here. I want to hear you talk about how much you love your white dad

SC: I don’t. He loves me. I’m fine with this because it results in food, shelter, and continued employment.

HC: uh huh

SC: I’m using him

HC: yeah because you’re like the most manipulative person I know.

SC: thank you

HC: /sarcasm

SC: I know I ignored it.

MM: so wait why do you actually pretend like you hate him tho?

SC: wh

SC: what the fuck am I supposed to do? Just go on up for a cuddle? Have you met Matt? The second someone starts crying, he finds trash to take out to the bins. Hell no. Life is easier for everyone if I stab him with a stick and he kicks my ass in training. It’s fine.

HC: Sam is learning how to be a Manly Man. This is step one.

SC: I’m plenty manly

HC: you’re what mom imagined as manly

SC: which is perfect. That’s all I need.

HC: mama’s boy

SC: must suck to suck, no one’s kid.

Wow. Ganke had never been more glad that he didn’t have a sister.

GL: That’s kind of cool, though.

GL: that you and DD are close like that I mean.

GL: Its different from all the other mentor/mentee superheroes we see who like, sort of hate each other.

SC: wh

SC: OH. you mean Peter and Kate. Peter doesn’t actually hate Stark, fyi. And Kate calls Hawkeye the Old bi-weekly to make sure he’s still breathing. It’s actually pretty normal.

MM: he doesn’t mean like that Sam. I mean, like those guys don’t associate with their Olds now that they’re grown up and stuff, but you and DD stick together. It’s like you’re family.

MM: and that’s super cool. Idk if Spidey would ever consider me family. I don’t think he wants that for us.

SC: I?

SC: oh shit

HC: CLARITY ON THIS FINE DAY. What was your name again, tiny spider?

MM: miles

HC: PRAISE BE TO MILES

HC: AN EMOTION WAS HAD

SC: get fucked

HC: An epiphany was obtained!

SC: would you shut up

HC: Something has finally permeated that non-porous, two-inch thick skull of my esteemed eldest brother

SC: I’m your only brother

HC: you’re not

SC: they don’t fucking count

HC: now will you FINALLY invite our mutual dad to hotpot?

SC: Hannah he doesn’t want to come to hot pot we’ve talked about this. it’s too spicy for him.

HC: I’ll make it 1/3 less spicy

SC: that’s still too spicy

HC: I’ll make it 2/5 less spicy

SC: 3/5

HC: listen

HC: I have all this fucking equipment that SOMEONE left here callously

MM: what’s hotpot?

SC: 👀

HC: 👀

GL: 👀

SC: well fuck

HC: EYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

GL: have we never taken you with us for hotpot???

MM: no?? is this the sticks?

HC: can be. Where do you live?

SC: Hannah no

HC: Hannah yes. We’ll make one here. You’ll make one there.

SC: do you know how much shit I’ll have to buy? Where are we gonna put it?

HC: this wouldn’t be a problem if you’d taken your goddamn inheritance with you to SF

SC: HHHHHH

MM: you guys are actually being serious?

HC: I am. I am here all on my lonesome. Abandoned by my only kin. I require enrichment.

SC: try doing your fucking homework

HC: did anyone hear something?

MM: lololololol I like you

HC: 😊

SC: wh

SC: oh no. No no no.

SC: you two don’t get to be friends

HC: come here bb pspspspspspsps

MM: I’m here

HC: got ‘im. Let’s have hotpot. Sammy send me resippy. We’ll do it together over video so I don’t fuck it up.

SC: I’ve got to go. This has been traumatizing.

HC: byeeeeeeeeeeee

HC: is he gone? Hell yeah, he’s gone.

HC: hey thanks for making that comic thing. It’s hella rad. He loves it. Mom used to call him Monkey when he was little.

GL: omg aw

HC: ikr? P cute. He misses her a lot so I think it brought back good memories. Anyways, I’m actually going to make hotpot. Come over and have some with me, it’s more fun with more people.

MM: you’re not joking

HC: nope, it’s been ages since your whole team has gotten together, right? Ask them to do it. I’m a shit cook, but Sam’ll show us how not to screw it up. And he’s playin’, he’s totally down to hang out with us. We never had more than three people. It’ll be new. Exciting. Enriching even.

MM: are you secretly a nice person, Hannah?

HC: the fuck do you mean ‘secret’??? I’m a delight.

MM: Okay I’ll ask the team and my mom

MM: ganke?

HC: 👀

That—

Sounded kind of nice?

GL: I’ll ask my mom.

HC: nice. You can tell them that it’s a friends dinner or whatever. Idc. I promise I’m not going to kidnap and murder you. I’ve got like, class and work and shit. I don’t have time for that.

MM: 👍🏾

GL: 👍🏼

HC: great here I’ll message you my number. This is legit our sibs chat so Sam’ll freak if you’re still here when he gets back.

MM: thank you! And sorry for thinking you were muse!!

GL: yeah that too

HC: lol np ttyl

That…had really just happened, hadn’t it?

Ganke needed to sit down even though he was already sitting down.

GL: they’re so nice???

MM: ikr?

GL: are you actually going to ask your mom?

MM: Im gonna ask BT if its cool first. Then yeah. Why not? Our team really hasn’t gotten together in a minute. Everyone’s been super busy. It would be a nice change of pace, and if everyone brings smth then Hannah doesn’t have to pay for anything.

MM: ah, Sam says it’s okay. He says sorry his sister is weird and that he’ll make sure she doesn’t poison us.

GL: I kind of love her

MM: same

MM: okay will check in with the others. Talk to you later.

GL: yeah see you later

Damn, at this rate, Ganke’s family was going to triple in size, and all thanks to a comic.

Before he left for downstairs, he made a note to make Guo tin’s brother snarkier.

#fic #inimitable verse #blindspot #samuel chung #miles morales #ganke lee

189 notes · View notes

thatslikely · 3 years

Text

Fireball - F.W.

Fireball- Fred Weasley x fem!reader (unspecified house)

Warnings: food and allusions to sex

Word Count: 3k

A/N: did I go overboard? yes. do I want to go to an amusement park with Freddie? yes.

Just a reminder: Y/N is Your Name and Y/L/N is Your Last Name

Taglist: @amourtentiaa @probably-peeves @anchoeritic @theweasleytwinsgirl @horrorxweasley

if you wanted to be added, send me a dm or ask!

“Sweetheart, have you got everything all packed up? I hope you didn’t accidentally pack any Canary Creams this time!” Fred jested from the room across the hall of the Burrow as you eagerly stuffed various waterproof jackets, sticky bottles of sunscreen that smelled pungently of hot summer afternoons spent loitering by the lake, and stacks of Muggle ‘cash’ into a small backpack.

“I think so. And do you really have to bring up that one time every time I’m in charge of snacks?” Zipping up the pockets of the sack, you gave it a satisfactory pat.

“Don’t worry, I thought you still looked cute, even as a bright yellow birdie.” You were helpless to stop your eyes from rolling in your skull with a sarcastic grumble.

As Fred sauntered over to you, arms extended and ready to give you a bear hug, you extolled, “are you excited? Your first time at an amusement park!” His muscular arms tightly wrapped around yours’; so tightly, in fact, that you lifted off the ground, still wrapped his playful yet loving embrace like a familiar blanket of comfort. The shirt handsomely draped over his figure smelled like home; of the common room after the crackling fireplace ceased, the deserted aisles of a fluorescent convenient store at midnight, burnt popcorn kernels smoking from the microwave.

“Of course I’m excited, Y/N. You’ve only blabbered about this place since the beginning of time. It better live up to the stories you’ve told!” he said cheerfully into your ear, his warm breath fanning your face, causing electric shocks of thrill to pang every one of your nerves.

“Today’s gonna be so much fun!” Your chest fluttered as Fred gently set you down like a prized china doll, throwing the stuffed backpack over his broad shoulders.

“I hope the fun carries over into tonight, too.” Fred painted a devilishly handsome suggestive smirk on his features, barely fighting off the urge to buckle your knees with his signature wink.

“Oh shove off, Freddie!” you giggled as you friskily swatted your boyfriend’s bicep. “Let’s just focus on the park for now, we can worry about that later.”

His intoxicating lips pressed a small peck to your forehead before he asked, “You ready to go have the best day ever with your impossibly amazing, handsome, clever, boyfriend?”

“Yes, Fred,” you smiled as he unsheathed his spiky-handled wand, “yes!”

With a quick, pickle-jar-lid pop! you and Fred were instantly engrossed in the eye of a large crowd of joyous Muggle families scurrying around in circles reminiscent of the windy spirals of a cyclone. Most grinning adults had a tiny, chubby hand gripped in their palm, and most of the bubbly kids had a drippy strawberry popsicle in theirs’.

The familiar plaza surrounding you flooded your heart with comfort and security. Wheeled food stands with bright, enthusiastic neon signs formed street-like pathways; the distant screams from speedy roller coaster riders melded with the thematic music echoing from speakers.

“We’re here!” you squealed, running over to a stand to grab a neatly labeled map of the park, despite knowing its layout like the back of your hand. Fred had been prone to getting lost before, especially in non-magical places, such as malls or airports (We have a lost boy named Fred Weasley, lost at gate thirty-six, and he’s looking for his, er- significant other, Y/N Y/L/N. He’s sixteen years old, quite tall, and has bright red hair, impossible to miss. Please come pick him up at the travel counter, thank you). You were tempted to tease him as you handed him the map, but considering the high possibility he had some sort of prank secretly stashed on his person, you wouldn’t dare risk it.

Fred uttered a “whoa,” as he took in his surroundings with enchanted, curious umber eyes, “this place is absolutely wicked.” His gaze then downturned, scanning the map, intently awaiting the vibrant, printed graphics to spring to life like pamphlets in the Wizarding World do.

“The map’s not going to start moving, if that’s what you’re waiting for, silly,” you teased, pointing to your location on the detailed unfolded brochure.

“Pfft, I knew that.” His insincere arrogance didn’t help to conceal the slight pink tone that heated his cheeks at all. Pure-blood wizards were truly an enigma.

You ignored his unsuccessful cover-up with an expression that screamed, ‘yeah, right’, as you explained to him (a bit condescendingly) like a schoolchild, “we’re right here, at the entrance. There’s a list of the rides, bathrooms, shops, and places to eat off to the side.”

The blazing sun overhead coated your surroundings with tepid, dandelion-hued light, and the relaxed summer breeze softly ruffled your flowy strands of hair, as well as Fred’s. He quickly combed through his fiery mane with his fingers, a smirk quirking his lips at the promise of so many exciting things to do and see.

“We’re gonna start off with my favorite ride ever: The Fireball.”

Fred dropped his jaw to respond, but you wasted no time maneuvering to the beloved orange scream-producer. You hastily snatched his large hand before weaving him through the cluster of people, scuttling towards a looming bright, tiger-orange arc towering above everything in the distance: the peak of the Fireball. The Fireball was the single best roller coaster ever constructed: its seats were comfortable and secure, its extensive track was fluid and fast, and the excellently paired loops and corkscrews were enough to spark terror in even the bravest riders.

You had been savoring the thrill of the beloved flame-colored coaster for as long as your crown had finally surpassed the minimum-height indicating green line on the sign before its intimidating crimson gates so many years ago.

Tears streamed horizontally across your face, a painful, open-mouthed smile etched onto your features. Screamed giggles echoed from your toothy mouth as you firmly gripped the bar in front of you, letting the rapid twists and turns of the coaster envelop you wholly. By the time the track had slowed and looped back to the station, your head was spinning, allowing you to barely think, let alone walk. Your hair was fluffed out like a bird’s nest but you couldn’t care less. All you knew was, you had to ride Fireball again.

No other coaster could even dream to compete with the beast of an attraction; it drew you in like a magnet, and hadn’t let you go since. Every other ride just felt inexplicably off in a way that even the most eloquent weren’t capable of articulating. And you finally got to share your favorite coaster with the person you undoubtedly love the most: Fred.

“Freddie, are you ready to go on the best roller coaster of all time? It’ll blow your mind!” you excitedly asked, pulling him towards the coaster’s spaghetti-twisted track. The look of pure bliss that exuded from your body was so, so difficult to say no to. There was something so child-like about your pupil’s vivacious glow; it reminded him of the days so long ago when his biggest stressor was whether he should pull a prank on an unsuspecting Ron or Percy next.

But an equally childish emotion struck his heart: fear. Fred Weasley feared nothing. A furious Umbridge, maniacal Dark Wizards, and even speedy rogue Bludgers wouldn’t even make him flinch. A roller coaster however, was different. Whether it was the sketchy-looking track held together by metal bolts, the loopty-loop that he would surely fall out of, or the fact that it was made by hands, not magic, inexplicable waves of nervousness flooded his body, causing his heart to boom faster and louder in his chest and his palms to condensate with sweat.

“Hey, uh, angel, it’s actually getting pretty hot, don’t ya think? Why don’t we go have some ice cream first, my treat?” Fred nervously asked, an unshakable stutter in his words. He delved into his pocket, revealing fistfull of bills and coins, eagerly looking for an ice cream stand. “I hope you know where the ice cream is?”

“‘Course I do, Freddie. The best cones are this way, follow me.” You giddily guided the lanky ginger through twists and turns, passing a multitude of fun (and tamer) rides Fred had never seen before. At long last, the two of you reached a small, dark and light blue-striped stand with a snowman holding a cone of strawberry deliciousness hung out front. The best ice cream in the whole park.

While the prospect of romantically sharing a cone of ice cream with Fred sounded tooth-rottingly sweet, the both of you were a tad too stubborn to be willing to share a single frozen treat. He did generously give you a lick of his drippy strawberry cone, however, and you relented to his pitiful puppy-dog eyes and quivering lip, letting him have a bite of yours’.

The ice cream almost instantaneously sent Fred back to summers at the Burrow when he was still equally adorable, but a far cry from who he was now. He was short, only an inch or two taller than Ron, his grin was crooked, and the bridge of his nose was dotted with bright orange freckles. Every cherished summer afternoon was spent slashing in the creek, throwing mud pies at Percy, digging up worms in the dirt, and daring Ron to bite into a cattail to see what it tasted like (that didn’t end well).

Once the delicious cream safely resided in your stomachs, you eagerly asked if the vermillion-haired boy across from you was ready to go on the ride of his life. When he responded with an inscrutable expression, the trips of his ears pricking with nervousness, you added persuasively, “c’mon Freddie, the line’s gonna get long if we wait much longer. The park’s filling up fast.”

“Hey! I have an idea. Instead of waiting in a boring line that’ll take forever,” -he exaggerated each syllable- “I could try to win you a prize at one of those booths over there. How does a giant teddy sound?” The grin on his face was impossible to renounce.

“Only if I get to play too. We’ll see whether you’re gonna be the one lugging around a huge stuffed bear!”

Fred yanked you to the nearest carnival game like an eager golden retriever, which evidently was a vibrant water gun race. The object of the game was to position your water gun to hit the target perfectly, and whoever held the jet until the quota was filled won.

Fred slapped a few bills onto the counter proudly, and the Muggle worker eyed him confusedly, before handing back a stack of greens to Fred. “It’s only five to play, sir.”

Fred took the vacant stool to the right to you, eyes glued on the prize: a large, bubble-gum pink teddy bear. Before he could even learn how to play, the bell rang, and water spewed out of the guns in front of you. Easily, you lined up the stream to the orange target before you, causing varicolored lights to flash and spiral., clashing the darkening sky above. Fred, however, wasn’t so lucky; he accidentally drenched the less-than-happy carny’s clownish uniform. The dripping employee sharply handed you the teddy before grumbling for the both of you to leave, preferably immediately.

“Ha! I won!” you boasted, rubbing the plushie in Fred’s amused face as you walked hand-in-hand past coasters and rides. He chucked before grabbing it from your hands, offering, “I’ll hold your prize for you, Miss Champion-water-gunner.”

“Okay, let’s go ride a coaster! I’m sure you know which one I wanna ride by now.” However, Fred was still nervous as ever. He’d never admit it, so naturally, he came up with every possible excuse.

“I- erm, why don’t we go ride that spinny one over there?”

“The carousel? That’s a toddler’s ride!”

“If I want to ride a horse-y, I will ride a horse-y!” Fred swooped you up in his arms, carrying you to the roped-off queue bridal-style while you flailed your arms, your face reddening with embarrassment.

In the blink of an eye, you found yourself seated on a jewel-embellished caramel horse, one of your hands gripped onto the golden pole lifting your pony up and down in a galloping motion. Your other hand was intertwined with Fred’s, who was perched on a mahogany horse draped in orange and green carpets and tassels beside you. Astonishment swam in his cocoa pools; his toe tapped in the stirrup to the old-fashioned circus music playing, he fiddled with the plastic emeralds of the horse’s bit, and he gave you the most innocent, heart-melting grin you’ve ever seen.

Once the bejeweled horses’ hopping halted, and the melodic recording of the march slowly faded, the sun crept below the horizon, granting the prussian blue air a chilly nip; it looked as if a Monet painting were suspended above the millions of flashing cabochon bulbs.

“Freddie, it's getting dark. We have time for probably one more ride,” you said, not failing to note the lively glow drain from Fred’s rosy cheeks and faint saffron freckles.“What’s wrong?”

“I uhh… I didn’t want to tell you this before, but…” -he scratched the nape of his neck with furrowed brows- “I’m scared of roller coasters.” Fred cracked a nervous side-mouthed smile. “Something about it just… I feel like I’m gonna fall out!”

“Oh, Freddie, I had no idea,” you said apologetically, resting your hand on his flanneled shoulder. The coruscating glow of the kaleidoscopic lights highlighted the fearful darting of his pupils.

“I wanna ride Fireball, it looks sick, but I’m more scared than I’d care to admit.”

“Here it’s okay, we can go on a smaller coaster if you want. Rocket’s always a classic, too,” you suggested, gesturing towards a short, blue and silver arch suffused in colorful carnival irradiance.

“No, I need to face my fear! Let’s go ride Fireball, darling. No buts!” Fred ushered you towards the Fireball, despite not having a clue about where it’s spaghetti bowl of track was grounded.

“It’s just like riding a broom! More safe, actually.” Fred lifted the chains of the queue for the both of you to mischievously slip under; you were pleasantly surprised to see the line was relatively short.

“Oh by the way, you better not tell anyone that I, Fred Weasley, star Quidditch player and most popular student, actually can get scared, or expect a foul prank in your future.” Fred embraced you with a hug from behind, not shy of showing some more risque displays of affection to the other teenaged riders to cement the unwavering fact that you were his, and only his.

“Well someone doesn’t seem so nervous anymore,” you teased, poking his chiseled chest playfully.

“What can I say? You’re too distracting.”

You gave him a sarcastic simper as you pulled him by the collar closer and closer to the loading station which was packed with workers and thrill-seekers alike. Fred continued to stay tricksy, a permanent smug smirk upturning his lips as his hands stayed glued to your body, in one place or another.

At long last, the mechanical locking of lap bars and revving of coaster-cars stiffened the slightly cocky Weasley (his nervous form reminded you oddly enough of a breadstick). You gave him more compassionate touches of affection, combing your fingers through his messy hair and tracing small circles on his back, humming.

When the menacing silver gates opened, allowing the two of you to climb inside the fire-truck red carts, Fred looked as if he would explode at any given moment. You grabbed his large, defined hand, your thumb soothingly rubbing vertical strokes on his metacarpal. Fred’s knees were nearly level with your chest once he was securely seated; the lap bar was generous with your wiggle room, but you didn’t mind, as long as Fred felt safe.

Fred’s hand’s grip was tight on yours’; you could feel his heart pump through each of his branchy veins rapidly. He asked seconds before the train was off to slowly climb the first daunting hill, “promise me you won’t let go?”

“I’ll never let you go, promise.”

The next approximately two minutes of ride time were a fantastic blur, just as magical as anything the Wizarding World had to offer. Streaks of golden lights shone around snippets of swirling orange tracks that subjected your body to addicting G force. Your weightless figure flew up and down serpent-esque hills and valleys, you were firmly pressed into your seat, hair hanging down in a flame shape on loopty-loops, and on corkscrews you swear your insides were rearranged.

As promised, you didn’t let go of Fred, in fact the opposite. On the first steep drop, he mustered the courage to hold your intertwined fingers above his head as he emitted a bellowing scream of raw pleasure. He submitted to the following expertly engineered twists and turns, letting his lanky body swish and fly at the mercy of the ride. It felt like a fierce match of Quidditch to him, except for the fact that his eyes were scrunched closed with joy, not open and alert for Bludgers.

Once Fireball came to an impossibly speedy ending, reality smacked you like a bus. As you got up from your seat to exit the dock, your legs wobbled and shook due to the copious amounts of adrenaline coursing through your veins. You concernedly surveyed Fred, who graciously supported you out of the station.

You peeled your awe tingling lips open to ask how he felt, and almost physically, he uttered a single, “wicked!”

“How could I have been ever scared of that? I feel like my bones are shaking inside of me!” he managed to exuberantly smile. He swished his arms back and forth pure joy flooding through him, prickling at his every nerve.

“I’m so glad you had fun, Freddie.”

“Thanks for helping me, y’know, have fun, let loose. I feel alive in a way I never have before, it’s insane!”

“I think we may be able to squeeze in one more ride. Wanna go for round 2?”

Fred pressed a rough, passionate kiss to your unsuspecting lips, his electric taste overwhelming you, coating every inch of yourself with red-hot desire, a new and welcome sensation that would linger for weeks.

“You know it.”

137 notes · View notes

dying-suffering-french-stalkers · 3 years

Note

For the ship game: prime numbers for Lupin x Jigen!

HERE YOU GO GHOST, THIS WAS FIVE PAGES IN A GOOGLE DOC AND TOOK ME SEVERAL HOURS

Under a cut, allegedly, though mobile has been known to just IGNORE THAT. Sorry in advance if this gets goofed for anyone.

2) Who is always horny and will have sex at any time, in any place?

Lupin, obviously (and canonically). Just the horniest man you ever did see. Jigen knows what he wants and when he wants it, but he has difficulty keeping up with Don Juan Triumphant over there. Lupin is also far less picky about locations and times than Jigen is. Jigen still has a FEW standards, thank you, and also a stronger sense of self-preservation. Lupin sometimes tries to start shit in public or during a heist and Jigen is like “I REALLY, REALLY APPRECIATE THE SENTIMENT BUT CAN WE NOT.” The closest to public anything Jigen will put up with is bar bathroom/back-alley hookups, and he doesn’t really tend to do that with Lupin or Goemon since they have secondary locations far more suited to such activity (or at least the damn Fiat, if nothing else). That said, Jigen is a spiteful bastard and gets a huge kick out of riling Lupin up over the walkie-talkie during jobs. He is more than happy to get jumped by his boss after they make it out and secure the loot.

3) Who is more into taking showers/baths together? Who tries to make it relaxing and who tries to make it sexy time?

Honestly, while I can totally see Lupin and Jigen doing this with their other partners, I have a harder time imagining the two of them doing this together and I’m not sure why. I feel like these two on their own both like the privacy bathing gives them, whether it’s to clean wounds or decompress from a job.

On the occasions when they do bathe together, I feel like it’s an unspoken kind of thing, where the other person quietly slips in the tub/shower with them and they just don’t bother protesting. I think Lupin is more likely to join Jigen in his bathing, but if Jigen is sleepy enough or lonely enough he might do the same. There is a lot of mutual appreciation of scars. They’ve definitely smoked in the tub before (Intricate Rituals™). Lupin is probably more likely to get handsy, because Lupin, but two can play that game if Jigen is feeling it, and also Jigen gives Lupin a run for his money in the staring department. No hat to hide behind now.

Lupin has also 100% done the whole “Hey Jigen, do you know if—stop screaming, it’s me—do you know if we have any more instant dashi? Goemon’s gonna slice up the sofa if I ruin soba night again.”

5) Who sleeps on the couch when they get into a fight?

Jigen, but to be fair, he canonically sleeps on the couch most nights (possibly to keep an eye on the door, possibly because he knows that place, at least, is always “acceptable” for him to occupy). It’s an odd night if you don’t see Jigen out there with a glass and a bottle of scotch and an old movie on TV. The main difference is that if he and Lupin have been fighting, he won’t bother with the formality of a glass and the TV will be playing far louder or not at all.

7) [A] Who said “I love you” first? And [B] who ends their arguments in a fight with “Because I love you”?

I hate to take the coward’s way out here, but I think the answers are A) either one - depends on the headcanon/fic/version of the characters I’m feeling that day, and B) both.

For A, they’re both the sort of people to show their love—true love/affection, not just flirtation/infatuation, LUPIN—in action, not words. Lupin is a man of many words to a fault, generous with his verbal and physical affection, so Lupin has to find a way to make sure Jigen knows he means it and how he means it. He may rightly fear that Jigen won’t believe him (or else believe him but take it platonically) if he says “I love you” to his face, so first he’ll show him through every little action he can. Jigen is a man of few words to a fault, so saying personal stuff like that out loud is both a last resort and the point of no return. Getting him to say it at all, unambiguously, and while sober is like pulling teeth. Once one of them finally spits it out, though, I think the other is quick to reciprocate (again, if they manage to say it clearly and under good circumstances and not ambiguously/while drunk or wounded/etc. They’re both idiots and selective cowards so this is a big if). The mutual relief is palpable and immediately followed by sex, because they’re both (horny) idiots and selective cowards who do not want to talk about Emotions and Personal Things any more than strictly necessary.

For B, ohhhh man, if it isn’t that same emotional avoidance coming to bite them in the asses! Looks like talking about deep emotions is strictly necessary after all! You know it’s a Big Important Argument for them if this is what it comes to. This is going to tie in somewhat to the answers for 11, 17, and 23, so stay tuned. “Because I love you” coming from either of them should give the other pause, but if they are angry enough, they’re both quite likely to storm off after that declaration anyway. They’ll come back and have a real discussion later, but the shock or frustration of that arresting declaration dropped in the middle of an argument is something neither of them are great at dealing with. Hearing that from Jigen might be enough to stop Lupin in his tracks, but Lupin might also be so dead-set on something that he’ll steamroll right over it even if he knows he’ll regret it later. Hearing that from Lupin probably only makes Jigen angrier because of his awful self-esteem (see answers 11 and 23), and even if he’s been working on that, his instinct will be to snarl “Yeah, right” and storm out the door. I like to think that one day they are able to get to the heart of the argument sooner (because this is almost always it) and work on the behaviors that worry the other so much, but alas, they are a mess.

11) Who makes fun of the other for having a crush on them, and who has to remind them that they are in a relationship?

Once again, either of them depending on the day.

As you mentioned in your JiGoe post, Jigen says it partly because he thinks it’s funny (“You have a crush on me, Boss? Fuckin’ embarrassing”) but also because he’s fishing for validation. His self-esteem/confidence in anything outside his shooting skills is shit and he still can’t quite believe that Lupin isn’t lying/he hasn’t conned Lupin into something. This is rather overestimating his conning skills and underestimating his many good qualities, but, well, genuine, lasting affection is kinda new for him. Much to Jigen’s annoyance, Lupin figures out exactly what Jigen’s up to after the first few times and answers him seriously (and positively) instead of continuing the “joke”. Lupin loses patience for this particular tactic over time but I like to think that Jigen finally begins believing in the affection, too, so it comes up less and less and one day Jigen might actually play the quip straight without the self-deprecation. Ideally he would just take the damn compliment, but it’s LupJig and banter is one of their love languages.

When Lupin says it, he typically is playing the quip straight and fondly giving Jigen shit for showing an Emotion and motherFUCKER I just realized Jigen could probably be considered a tsundere. I hate this. ANYWAY. Jigen then immediately snarks back that yes, Lupin, considering we’ve been travelling the world together and actively fucking for X years, it’d be damn awkward if I didn’t by now.

13) Who initiates duets? and who is the better singer?

Lupin absolutely initiates duets, or rather, he tries to; whether or not Jigen actually chimes in is another matter entirely. Lupin is also the better singer by far (when he’s sober). He loves singing along to pop and rock in the car (“This is the reason God invented America!”).

Much as it would please me personally to give Jigen a smooth operatic baritone, there’s no way in hell he sounds good after smoking a pack a day for twenty-something years. I think Jigen can carry a tune and he’s a decent hummer and whistler, but his singing voice isn’t spectacular.

Lupin occasionally succeeds in getting Jigen to join him in car karaoke, though as in all things, Lupin is much louder and more impassioned. Jigen frequently hums along under his breath, though, and Lupin loves hearing Jigen’s a cappella renditions of classical music (complete with hand motions).

When Queen starts becoming popular, car singalongs become much more involved because it’s MY silly headcanon and You Are Not Immune To Queen. Jigen cried the first time he heard “Bohemian Rhapsody” and he will kill Lupin if he ever tells Goemon or, God forbid, Fujiko. When the four of them are in the car it’s a full-on Wayne’s World headbanging party. (Pops is the drunk guy they pick up along the way. Also, seeing Payless Shoe Source in this clip dealt me psychic damage.)

Lupin and Jigen (and Goemon) are the living embodiment of the drunk friends singing “Sweet Caroline” post, and Jigen is specifically this version of “Sweet Caroline”.

17) Who is more protective?

THAT IS THE QUESTION, HUH, GHOST? Jigen’s job and, to a certain degree, raison d’être is protecting Lupin, but (to cheat slightly and quote your own DM to me), if you think Lupin won’t raze everything to the ground to keep Jigen (and the others) safe, you don’t know him at all. They are this meme to the deepest of faults. They are both so desperately afraid of losing what they have (and in Lupin’s case, this is tinged with a bonus, even more concerning “what is his”) that they will go full self-sacrificing, scorched-earth policy. This is, in fact, my favorite reason for Lupin to do the worst thing he does: fake his own death to protect his partners. Lupin never stops to think that maybe, JUST MAYBE, he should trust his partners to fake grief and keep the secret long enough for whoever’s on their tail to give up or let their guard slip. Lupin is willing to hurt them in an effort to protect them, so in that way, I suppose Lupin is the “most” “protective”. Jigen’s self-abasement to the point of unhesitating and perhaps even hasty sacrifice is painful, too, but Jigen would never dare go to the same level of deception (except in Goodbye, Partner, apparently? But 1) I haven’t watched it yet and 2) while awful, I still feel like fake betrayal pales in comparison to very convincingly (AND MAYBE REPEATEDLY) faked death).

19) Who drives and who has the window seat?

They split driving duties, but Lupin genuinely loves driving and Jigen is more than happy to prop his feet on the Fiat’s dashboard and smoke or sleep the hours away.

23) Who thinks they are not good enough for the other’s love? and who’s more afraid of losing the other? Who thinks they keep messing up, only for the other to tell them they don’t need to worry?

HERE WE GO AGAIN!!! I think the answer to all of these is ultimately Jigen, but that’s not to say Lupin doesn’t share the exact same worries.

Jigen has a very difficult time believing that his partners’ love is genuine, and since Lupin is the one he knew first, that’s where it first manifests. Jigen has had very, very few good romantic connections in his life (if any). He doesn’t know what Lupin could possibly see in an older, prickly hired killer with a drinking problem and a head full of demons. He’s willing to believe that Lupin keeps him around for his skills, for protection, and for sex, sure, but anything past that? Doubtful. This ties into the other two parts of the question: Jigen is afraid that if he fails in his sharpshooting or his protection, he will be cut out of the gang, or worse, Lupin will end up dead because Jigen slipped up. As mentioned in question 17, Jigen cannot bear to lose Lupin and he would never forgive himself if he believed it was somehow his fault. Accordingly, Jigen takes “failure” that exceeds his usual margin of error very seriously in the early days. Later, he is better about this, but the worst-case scenario still stands.

Lupin, on the other hand, has had plenty of romantic connections, some good, some bad, though it is perhaps telling that Fujiko is his longest romantic relationship other than Jigen. He is afraid that if he doesn’t put on the world’s greatest show at all times, no one will give a rat’s ass about some scrawny grandson of an old French thief (or the perhaps unwanted/disliked son of a ruthless crime lord, because I love that fanon for Lupin the Second). He must live up to and indeed surpass the previous Lupins, he must shower his partners in money and adventure, he must always, always come out on top no matter how south the plan goes, or else what is the point of him? It takes time for him to turn his persona off for more than a few seconds, to let the quieter, sometimes contemplative side that slips through the cracks come to rest out in the open. Years down the road, Jigen finally gets up the courage and the words to tell Lupin that he would love him no matter what he did or where he went, even if that was nothing and nowhere. And again, see question 17 re: losing Jigen.

29) Who does some crazy stunt to try and impress the other and who ends up driving them to the emergency room after it backfires?

Lupin is by far the most guilty of this. He’s constantly pulling dumb shit, whether that be for World-Renowned Gentleman Thief reasons or just He May Be Stupid reasons. Case in point: the tunnel scene in The First, after which Jigen was duly impressed. Fortunately for Lupin, Lady Luck must be head over heels for him because the bastard keeps surviving, but sometimes even she can’t save him from medical consequences. Jigen bulk-ordered “Stupid Hurts” band-aids specifically for Lupin. Jigen’s bad choices are more likely to literally backfire on him, but Goemon more than makes up for Jigen’s slack in the Crazy Stunt department.

#I CARE THEY #hope this is comprehensible bc i honestly cannot tell #i have many thoughts on these two human disasters #lupin iii #jigen #asks #the-golden-ghost #long post #meta #I GUESS #can you believe i wrote five pages of meta about 1970s comedy anime characters? fucking hell. i love this fandom.#ship meme

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woozisnoots · 3 years

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Hello alex! Maybe I'm to early for having a emergency request but I haven't really going anywhere outside my house beside buy groceries and I haven't socialize properly in months (maybe there is a bunch of people can relate). It's stressing and make me mentally exhausted for months 😭😭😭 can I request something like joshua fluff or wonwoo fluff that can comfort us? And I get it if you can't do it since I think I'm to early for asking. Anyway hope you have a nice day ❣️

no ofc it’s not too early! pls, i want to do this for you guys 🥺💓 these are meant to be small so i ended up doing both. i hope you enjoy and if you ever need someone to talk to, my inbox and dms are always open!

𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙦𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙩𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧!

° pairing: joshua x reader, wonwoo x reader ° genre: fluff! ° word count: 1214 ° warnings: none! ° tagging: @jaeyoonurl bc she has a thing for j*shua hong

masterlist!

— joshua

in the scenario that you and joshua are living together in a small apartment complex, he does the slightest bit to annoy you whether it be intentional or not

like he’ll either make you stay in bed with him longer than usual so you’d be late to a zoom class / meeting

or he’d purposefully flick you behind the ear while you’re cooking which causes you to accidentally pour more than just a pinch of salt on your eggs

since josh owns that little projector that has slides of all the different constellations, he would turn it on right before you guys go to sleep as you lay next to each other on the bed and just stare at the stars from your ceiling

he loves making jewelry to pass the time while you guys watch netflix together. and wants nothing more than receiving an accessory that you made yourself

“joshua hong, please!” you fling your arms up to reach for the object now in joshua’s hands, much to your avail. “it’s literally so ugly. i beg you, please don’t wear it!” the little jump you add doing nothing but exhaust your energy.

you knew it was bad idea, you should have trusted your gut the minute joshua left to get the groceries. forty-five minutes was just not enough time for you to possibly make a small thank you gift for you boyfriend. a token to say, ‘this is what three years has gotten us.’

“but you gave it to me!” joshua refutes back. you let your guard down, breathing rapidly in order to catch your breath from the unnecessary movement of having to keep up with him. he, on the other hand, took this as an opportunity to run, sprint away from your wrath and make a clean line for the bathroom before shutting the door to securely lock it in place.

joshua hears your wallowed out screams coming from the other side and softly chuckles under his breath, wondering when you’ll ever get used to his childish antics at times. he safely unravels his hands to reveal the tiny object. and he can’t help but smile wide, ear to ear, and think, ‘so that’s why i felt something pointy.’

you’ve given up at this point. by now, he’s probably already seen your gift and for all you know, everything is doomed. your hand laid flat on top of the door, deciding whether to shrivel in front of him now or wait until he confronts you first. yet, he’s able to make that decision for you as he abruptly opens the door causing you to fall forward straight into his arms.

“why, hello gorgeous,” you watch from underneath him, the corner of his lip rising up to form a cheeky smirk. you squint your eyes menacing at the thought that he could possibly be wearing the horrid gift you made. tilting your head to the side, you open one eye to catch a glimpse of green hanging from joshua’s left ear. he turns his head just slighty so you could get a better look. “you’ve really out done yourself, if i had anything to say about it. though i have to say, i didn’t think you’d go for the cute food aesthetic. i thought you hated avocados.”

blood immediately rushes towards your cheeks and hide your face from joshua’s vision but he was too quick. using his brute strength, he pulls your weight so you’re standing in front of the mirror, back facing him. your mind spirals as you feel joshua tuck strands of your hair behind your ear. “awe lookie, i knew you’d be wearing the other one,” he says before deliverying a small peck to your cheek, leaving you a scrambled mess. “what a perfect anniversary gift.”

— wonwoo

spending time with wonwoo during quarantine would be rather quiet and simple, but that doesn’t mean your time spent together is boring

having little to nothing to do all day makes you realize how much renovations you guys can do around your home

your morning conversations over breakfast would be about different home décor that you found on amazon and you would end up having such a fun time talking about it because you guys turn them into little debates over if the items are actually necessary

that being said, wonwoo would be so willing to buy anything that would fill your guys’ boredom. and yes, that would include getting two separate desks, possibly four computer screens, two headsets, two light up keyboards for the heck of it, and of course: two very comfortable gamer chairs

no, he would not let you win at any games for freebies — you gotta earn that shit

out of all the days of the week, nothing was ever reserved for sundays. truly, every day was a free day — lounging around, doing chores, testing new cooking hacks to see if they actually worked. but sundays especially were just extra... boring. the very end of the week with absurd nothing to do. which has led you to spend this sunday morning in front of your dual computer screens with your boyfriend joining you on the other side of the desk.

“damn it!” you exclaim, lightly slamming the keys on your keyboard due to this endless frustration boiling inside of you since you’ve started playing. “how do i keep losing... it’s club penguin for fucks sake!”

your hands collect your face with pure dread and exhaustion, wondering how your supreme logic failed you during card jitsu. you hear a hearty chuckle coming from wonwoo sitting across from you. “the cards are just in my favor, sweetheart.” he eyes you as he takes the warm cup of coffee to his lips to take a sip. “how about, best two out of three to see who has to make breakfast?” the huskiness of his voice growing deeper with each word, leaving you in trace for just a moment.

you ponder at the bet, looking back between the screen showcasing your pink penguin and your beautiful barefaced boyfriend, ultimately coming to a decision. “what about. i watch you wipe out your penguin foes for the next few rounds and then we can make breakfast together,” you suggest instead, your mind thinking far beyond your apparently lousy deck of cards.

“fine by me,” wonwoo shrugged, adjusting himself comfortably to his seat. you silently admire him from where you are, noticing how notably meticulous he was being when he’s focused. wonwoo’s eyes captures yours but gives you a puzzled look. “are you not gonna come over here?” he quietly asks.

the simple question makes your head drop, feeling embarrassed as you try hard not to show him how flustered he made you. regardless, your legs move without you having to think it over. and instead of sitting on the small space that he left for you on his chair, you move his arm aside to face him before straddling your legs and sitting on his lap.

wonwoo, completely unfazed, takes his free arm not holding his mouse and tugs you in closer to his chest so you can lay your head on his shoulder. for the remainder of your morning, your eyes slowly start to droop to the sound of penguin screams and victory.

#caratwritersclub #seventeen fluff #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo fluff #joshua hong #joshua fluff #seventeen scenario #seventeen #wonwoo scenario #joshua scenario #wonwoo x reader #joshua x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfic #😚.anon #💓.asks

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ivydoomkitty · 3 years

Photo

As this year draws to a close, I, like many, struggled and hurt through it all. 2020 has been one of the roughest years of my life. I lost a ton of work, found out about my grandparents dementia and alzheimers, had one cat (Pinky) diagnosed with stage 1 cancer, another (Baby) with kidney and liver disease, and my closest and oldest one, my friend and soul mate, Isis, died in my arms. There was tons of other personal stuff that I won't even go into. I had friends lose their loved ones to covid, and get covid. Like many, my depression and anxiety hit an all time low, and each day was a constant battle. I don't think I've ever felt more alienated or alone than I have this year. To say it was a shit year and one of the worst in my life, is putting it mildly. Through all the bad, though, there was some good. I learned. I grew. I struggled through it, but I grew. Growth is never meant to be pleasant. Some of the hardest lessons learned hurt the most. And I learned. And I bled. I cried. I screamed. I learned. I made it to through the fire. I burned myself, but I made it through. 2020 taught us to hold the ones we love close and never let go. It taught us empathy on a global scale, just as much as on an individual scale. It made us check in on our friends and families more, and made us realize that mental health is a very serious issue and should definitely be normalized. It taught us to appreciate and savor each moment with those we spend it with, because we don't know when it will be our or their last. I'm thankful for every single wonderful human in my life that made me feel valued and that I mattered. Whether it be a comment on my feed, text, dm, phone call, anything. All of it mattered. Thank you. As much as I hate what you've done 2020, I also thank you for making me put the ones I care for first, as well as for my fellow man. Much love to you all and may your 2021 be brighter and filled with happiness, laughter, and love. Hold your humans and furbabies close. See you on the other side. Xoxo, Ivy https://www.instagram.com/p/CJfJiT-nXPi/?igshid=xcc4qse5shvo

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thisnoodlewritesao3 · 3 years

Note

Hellooo! First of all, congrats for hitting 100!! 🎉 I wanted to join your event,

1. Ushijima

2. If you and your soulmate possess the same item, it’ll glow

3. Fluff

Thank you so much, and have an amazing day/ night!

-🥡

ahhhh, I hope you like it. It took me some to figure out the solid idea for this but I think I ended up with something good. Let me know if you like it! Also, thank you to @satan-ruler-of-hells and @pies-writes-and-more for helping me come up with the idea and Beta reading this!

Thank you for joining the event, I really appreciate it.

----

You won’t ever be sure what prompted you to walk around the campus late after school had finished, but you were doing it nonetheless. There were so many places you had yet to see; sometimes you’d forget how big of a school Shiratorizawa actually was, and then you’d glance out of your dorm window and remember. Still, it was almost calming, like a tension eased away from you at the near silence. So many places to search, never enough time in the world. Between classes and studying, you rarely had time like this to yourself - you savoured these moments like a starved man.

Even if life was stressful, you were thankful you’d managed to make it into Shiratorizawa. You weren't on a fancy sports scholarship - not at all - you had passed the entrance exam. You recalled the day that you got the news, that you’d been accepted, that you’d passed the exam and had accomplished what so many hadn’t been able to do.

Every single dream had become a reality in a matter of seconds; your life was changed and you were on a journey to be who you were meant to be - endless possibilities and open-ended decisions.

Of course you couldn’t just congratulate yourself, you wouldn’t have been able to come this far without the help of your friends and-

You’re ripped from your thoughts with the power of everything unholy. Something smacking you in the side of the head and forcing you to see stars. The force knocking you onto the ground; the world seemed to retort into noise and chaos. Some laughter, a couple of screams and cries, a teasing, “you killed her, Goshiki!”

So many footsteps that made your head pound.

Blurry vision and a rush of - completely warranted - rage; you felt just about ready to murder. As you pushed yourself to sit up, there was a set of arms around your waist, making sure you didn’t tumble backwards again.

Just ahead of you lay a volleyball, and when you turned your head to the side, you could see a boy with black hair and a basic bowl cut shaking. Tears pricked in his eyes. They watched you carefully as you managed to get to your feet, wobbly stepping towards the ball, fully intent on murdering the boy.

“Are you okay?” The boy who had helped you - with ashy blond hair - asked. But you didn’t care whether or not you were okay, because his small friend was about to be not okay. Not even a little.

“Who hit me?” You asked. But you already knew the answer, you just needed to confirm.

“I-I-I-I’m so sorry!” The boy cried out, bowing at you. You almost wanted to forgive him (keyword: almost), but you didn’t. Instead you picked up the volleyball, eyes locked onto his with a fury burning behind them; but something changed. The atmosphere changed. Their eyes all flittered between you and the ball in your hand, so you took a second to look at it.

The object in question was glowing.

Upon seeing it, you screamed and dropped it because that meant somewhere in the world, your soulmate was holding a volleyball. At the exact moment that you were. Sure, it was rare to experience something like this - even if everyone had a soulmate - but most people didn’t have a choice to be with their soulmate.

You should have felt elated - somewhere inside, you were - but right now, in this moment, you only felt pure rage.

And then something caught your eye, something that you shouldn’t have been able to see, not as clearly as you could anyway; the world seemed to focus on one of the volleyball players standing at the back of the gym. More so, the world focused on the glowing volleyball in his hand.

On instinct, you dropped the one you were holding. The ball stopped glowing, but so did his. You were shocked. Confused. At such a loss for words as you tentatively reach it, picking it up. Noting the way his started glowing again the moment you touched it.

You continued this process for a short while, everyone watched you curiously. You picked it up, then dropped it.

Pick it up, drop it.

Up, drop.

Your breath picked up. It hadn’t sunk in just yet what had really happened. That you’re soulmate was standing just a small ways away.

You picked up the ball, swallowing hard as you passed it to one of his teammates. So it doesn’t glow for anyone else, and it’s definitely you, and you aren’t imagining things. You take it from his hand, once again, it lights up.

Only one person takes notice of this interaction and he grins wildly, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Let’s go meet your soulmate,” he cooes.

Each step towards him was difficult and easy at the same time. For the second time, Shiratorizawa had changed your life, set you on a new path and direction. One that held your soulmate by your side. You didn’t know how to react and, clearly, neither did he. You both stared at one another.

The boy who had hit you - you’d come to learn his name is Goshiki - started apologising harder than before, practically on his hands and knees. Your soulmate - better known as Ushijima Wakatoshi - looked disappointed at the boy, asking him how he’d ever expect to be the ace if he couldn’t control where the ball was going.

When you got a moment alone, you talked about yourselves. He told you that he planned on being a professional volleyball player, and you can only agree that he’d be good (even if you’ve never actually seen him play); he congratulates you for making it past the entrance exam, but you hadn’t told him, which meant he already knew about you. You almost felt bad not knowing anything about him, but he didn’t seem to mind - apparently, he preferred it, this way you could get to know each other. And you agreed, because you had things to talk about. It was sweet.

You hadn’t expected to fall for him so quickly - maybe it was the soulmate situation - but there was something else about him that made your heart swoon beyond your imagination.

As he grew in the world of volleyball, you were by his side. You decided to be an author, because the amount of times you moved around made it worth it, and you had a thousand ideas riddling your mind. You stuck by his side when he moved to Poland, giving him a small piece of Japan to come back to every day.

You were some of the lucky ones, and you’d forever be grateful for that.

----

General Taglist:

@pies-writes-and-more @satan-ruler-of-hells @dekuspet @samkysnks

If you want to be added to the taglist, then send me a DM or an ask

#haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #hq ushijima #hq #🥡noodles.anons #thisnoodlewrites

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ultimatetornshipper · 3 years

Text

Daminette December Day 7

@daminette-december2019-2020

((Note: If you’re a confused little muffin who saw our ship in the top 100 list and you want to know what in the ever loving fuck we are, feel free to dm me or mention me in a post or even to send an ask. do be warned tho that if u send me hate i will block and report u (and not just to tumblr, to everyone I know who is part of this fandom). our little sub fandom is not a toxic space and no one is allowed to make it one or there will be a fucking war))

And we’re back to our anxiety induced in denial Damian. I love this kid. Tho I do wanna make him slightly more… how do I say this… like cold? I dunno maybe I can bring that in with other people and his interactions. I just wanna write him with his proper grammar and what not and like lbh this boi is already a simp for Mari. But I don’t wanna let things happen too quickly, y’know?

Anyway, maybe I should make the theme of this chapter the fact that he has absolutely no chill. Lmao, I think that’s hilarious ngl. Also I’m just gonna pretend certain things existed back then for the sake of my sanity I can’t keep coming up with words that make sense for explaining what a thing is without saying the actual word because it didn’t exist yet. The hologram in that one chapter was hard enough bruh

Ok here we go, thanks for reading! I hope u enjoy it

Princes and Pedestals

Chapter 7 – Chill

Damian rolled the ring between his fingers as the morning light filtered through his windows. She’d put the choice in his hands, it was a kind thing to do, smart too. It made sense, if this role was as important as she made it sound it needed someone who could commit to it.

The miraculous was the kind of black that seemed to stretch on forever. It had a bright green paw print on it. He hadn’t put it on yet but from what he could gather it’s kwami would appear as soon as he put it on.

He'd be one of the leaders of an entire Order. He had no idea how big it was. His mother had raised him to lead but that was an entirely different organization. How would Marinette react to that? Could he handle the responsibility?

These thoughts had been plaguing him from the moment he picked up the ring.

But that wasn’t what got to him the most. She was just so… good. She had even agreed to move her entire court to Gotham for his sake. To uproot her entire life and move everyone involved just so that he could stay with his family.

There had to be a catch.

There always is.

He sighed, overthinking everything wasn’t going to help him make this decision.

There was only one thing he could do.

He put on the ring and a bright light caught him off guard. A small floating cat like being appeared in front of him.

“Kid?” he kept his eyes closed as though he didn’t want to see who was in front of him, his voice breaking slightly.

Slowly, the kwami – Plagg if he remembered correctly - opened his eyes. Damian stared at him as disappointment flitted across the creature’s face.

He lifted his brow and asked, “Hope to see someone else, Plagg?”

He chuckled slightly, sadness lacing the sound, “My previous holder, thought maybe I'd get the chance to say goodbye this time,”

Damian frowned, “What do you mean?”

Plagg frowned, “You don’t know about my previous holder? Who gave you my miraculous?”

“Marinette did,” he said, simply, “She actually just gave me the chance to consider the offer of the position, I have the rest of the day to get to know you and make my decision,”

Plagg seemed to consider what he said, he then sat down on the bed in front of Damian. He explained the basics of the miraculous to him, the phrases he needed to use as well as what those phrases would do. The things he’d need as well as what behaviors he might pick up.

“Purring?” Damian said in a disbelieving voice, “You’re telling me I might start purring in my civilian form?”

Plagg cackled, “Yeah, don’t worry it’s not that bad,”

“Tt, what exactly is the purpose of it? In fact what exactly is my purpose? It seems like she has the leadership thing under control,”

Plagg seemed to sober up at the question, he flew up right in front of Damian’s face and looked him in the eyes, “Her job is to lead and look after her court,” his look sharpened and he narrowed his eyes, “Your job is to look after her, your job is to protect her, your job is to see her. Your purpose is to make hers as easy as possible. Don’t get me wrong, you’ll have other official responsibilities and you will rule alongside her, but your real job? Your purpose? You have to help her remember that she’s only human and that that’s okay,”

Damian stared at Plagg, the kwami stared back. It couldn’t be that simple, could it? There had to be something. Some kind of catch.

Before he could grill the kwami, Dick burst into his room.

Damian could see his brother’s clear panic and immediately stood. Dick’s eyes found his, “She’s gone,”

Damian felt himself spiral, memories flew through his mind. All the times he or any of his siblings had been taken. Cass didn’t speak for a month after the last incident. Jason’s “secret" panic attacks had increased tremendously. Tim stayed up for nights on end, only sleeping when he passed out. Damian sparred for hours and hours, hating the feeling of being useless.

His father and Dick weren’t in Gotham at the time and Selina was helping Harley with one of her ‘projects’.

When they got Steph back after a week, she was so shook up that she kept waking up screaming from nightmares for months.

They all blamed themselves.

“Her kwami showed us a letter she left but someone could’ve faked it to buy time, they’re searching the village,” Jason said, coming into his room, holding a piece of parchment.

Damian barely registered the way Plagg seemed to study his reactions. They needed to find her, it was already afternoon, who knows how far gone she could be?

They spent hours scouring the castle. Before he knew it the moon was rising and they were all gathered in the living room, going over possibilities.

“I’m going to go get Alfred and Bruce, this has been going on long enough, it’s time to call in back up. It’s already passed nightfall and she’s not back yet,” Dick walked out of the room, barely two seconds passed before he shouted something to them, “Guys I found her!”

They were out quicker than a lightning bolt. He ignored his siblings as they all flocked around her. He took her in.

She was wearing a cloak, which Jason quickly took and gave to a passing maid. She wore one of her black dresses. Her hair was in a braid.

But the cloak was dirty, the dress had tears and the braid was messy.

But it was her eyes that got him. The blue irises looked like someone had taken every drop of sadness in the world and left it in them. They were red rimmed and puffy and there were black bags under them.

She’d been crying and she hadn’t slept. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out.

Somewhere along the line, they moved back into the living room. Cass was sitting next to Marinette on the couch and the others were arguing.

Damian couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She was here. She was safe. She wasn’t taken.

Cass tapped his arm, he turned to look at her and she started signing. (a/n ok yeah I know that sign language might not have existed but do I really care?)

Get her out of here, she’s tired, Cass signed.

Damian nodded and after asking her permission and scolding his siblings, he escorted her to her room.

Plagg whispered something to her that he couldn’t hear.

Then she apologized for scaring him and he explained his thought process. She explained that he would’ve been able to know via their miraculous whether she was in trouble or not. He made a mental note to ask Plagg more about that.

When they got to her room he opened her door. She was about to go in but he grabbed her hand, stopping her. She looked at him expectantly. He searched her gaze, he had so much he wanted to ask her, why she’d been crying was at the top of that list.

But she looked so tired, and Damian just couldn’t get himself to form the words. Instead he bid her goodnight and went back to the living room where his siblings were waiting.

All eyes turned to him when he entered. He didn’t know what to say. Instead of thinking his words through he blurted out the first thing he thought.

“She didn’t flinch when our eyes met,” he said. They all stared at him for a few seconds. Usually they would’ve laughed at his bluntness, Damian is certain, but there was something about the haunted look on her face that sapped all humor out of the situation.

Jason was crouched in front of the fire. Stephanie sat on one of the chairs while Dick leaned against its armrest. Damian was next to Cassandra on the couch and the five of them sat in silence.

Millions of questions danced through the air, the answers all just out of reach.

Little did they know that they weren’t the only ones with questions.

Outside, three pairs of eyes were watching the oblivious siblings closely.

Damian felt a chill go down his spine and turned towards the window. He walked over and stared out into the forest, he didn’t see anyone but the uneasy feeling wouldn’t leave him.

He closed the curtains.

The smallest of the three chuckled slightly, “She got herself a paranoid one, huh?”

“We need to head back,” the only guy out of the three said to the others.

They nodded and followed him deeper into the forest.

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