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#I don’t know if he or a stylist picks out his outfits for interviews

therealcocoshady · 4 months

Text

Recovery - Chapter 14

Eminem x FemReader (Y/N) fanfiction

Summary : Em and Reader fly to NYC for a day.

Tags : Little bit of angst, FLUFF 🥰

CW : -

In the following week, you and Marshall hung out together as much as possible, whether it was to watch a movie, have dinner or simply hang out at the studio with everyone. Except for the two of you, as well as Talia and Jamal, no one knew about your argument. The others simply figured out that you were busy with uni, which was great, because you didn’t really want anyone to be involved in any type of drama. Being back as a team was great, and you were elated to have your best friend back. You were also ecstatic to go to New York with him. You had never been there and you couldn’t wait to discover the city. After all, when they visit the US, most people from Europe go to California or New York. If you were completely honest, the reason you had ended up in Michigan in the first place was because of the partnership between your former university in France and MSU, as well as the fact that Detroit was actually a cheaper place to live. And then, you stayed because you fell in love with the place and met amazing people. Ever since you had moved to Detroit, you hadn’t visited a lot of places. You were either on a budget or too busy. So when Marshall offered for you to fly to NYC with him and it matched your schedule, you saw it as an amazing opportunity. Plus, you were going to spend some time, just the two of you… and Paul.

When Marshall told you that Paul was going to be there, you were a bit disappointed. Of course, you understood that it was his role as manager to be there whenever Marshall was going on a work trip or giving interviews, but his presence made you feel a bit uncomfortable. Ever since the pictures of the two of you exiting the party had been published in the press, Paul had made no secret of his disapproval of your presence in Marshall’s life. You got along with everyone else, from beatmakers to sound engineers, but the manager was something else. It seemed like he hated you and it was making you a little sad. Marshall shrugged it off though. The day before, you were in his closet, picking his outfits for the photoshoot when you decided to talk to him about it.

Are you sure that me coming to New York is a great idea ? You asked.

You don’t want to come anymore ? He asked back.

No, of course I do, you said. But is Paul ok with me being there ?

I don’t know. I didn’t ask for his opinion, he shrugged.

He hates me, you sighed.

No, he doesn’t, he chuckled. I mean, it’s Paul, he’s an ass, sometimes. It’ll be fine, though. He’s just going to be there for the interview and then, he’s having meetings of his own. He won’t even be there when we fly back.

So it’ll be just us, then ?

Pretty much. You, me and… well, security, he said.

On the next day, when you boarded the private jet for the flight, Paul was already seated. He greeted you curtly.

Are we sure it’s a good idea for her to be here ? He asked Marshall without so much as a look at you.

Yeah, Marshall replied. I need her opinion on outfits for the shoot and she’s never been to NYC, so it works out pretty well.

Are we working here, or are we turning into a travel agency ? Paul sighed. Seriously, Marshall, we could have worked with a stylist…

Just relax, Marshall shrugged as he rolled his eyes. It’s no big deal.

To you, maybe, Paul groaned. But I swear, if I have to deal with anything she does…

Marshall didn’t even bother replying. He just sighed and sat next to you during the flight, as you both watched a movie on your iPad. Shortly before you landed, Paul decided to talk to Marshall about the day’s events, still ignoring you.

So, the photoshoot will last about two hours and then the interview, he recalled.

Good, Marshall said. This afternoon, I’m taking you to cool places, Y/N. You’re going to like New-York !

Actually, Paul said, I know you wanted your afternoon and evening free, but you’re doing a radio interview in the afternoon…

Are you fucking serious ? Marshall groaned. That wasn’t planned. I’m not doing this. I made plans with Y/N already.

Well, here’s the thing… They sort of announced your presence on the show already… But Y/N doesn’t mind. Do you, Y/N ?

So, now, he was talking to you when he was trying to convince Marshall ? Great. It took you a lot of effort not to give him the biggest side-eye.

It’s fine, you said with a forced smile. I’ll enjoy the city on my own.

Are you sure ? Marshall asked.

Of course. You have work to do, it’s ok, you replied.

Plus, it’s probably for the best, Paul said. If the two of you were to be spotted together…

Whatever, Marshall said as he rolled his eyes.

You landed and got to the suite the magazine rented for the day, where the photoshoot and interview would take place. As you unpacked and organized the outfits that Marshall would wear, you heard him talk to Paul.

So, are we taking questions about your relationship with Y/N for the interview ? Paul asked.

You already know the answer, Marshall sighed.

I’m merely asking to protect you, Marshall, the manager explained. It’s my job.

I know, Marshall said. But my personal life, my daughters, my ex, my friends outside of the industry and any rumored girlfriends… It’s not something I’m discussing. We’ve decided on that nearly fifteen years ago, I don’t see why it would change now.

Because the two of you were spotted together, Paul recalled, that’s why. You should know this could change everything. And as manager, I have to remind you that it’s all about the control we have over that type of thing. Plus, obviously, with everything that happened recently… people are certainly wondering.

Why the fuck would they even care ? Marshall groaned. I make music, I’m not a fucking reality show celebrity…

Fine, the manager said. Lucky for us, things seem to be dying down. Let’s hope this stays this way. No offense, but I have enough work as it is.

Once they were done with their conversation, Marshall came to find you and took a look at the outfit you had chosen in his wardrobe.

So, what did I pack with utter blind trust in you ? He mused.

Three different outfits. One is more typical of what you usually wear for photoshoots, the two others are a little more “you”, you explained.

Meaning ?

Meaning you’ll look like Eminem in at least one of them, don’t worry, you said with a wink. Do you trust me ?

I guess, he chuckled. They send us the pictures before publication beforehand anyway, so I’ll pick the pictures I like the most.

I wonder if this is why you never smile on pictures, you chuckled. Is it because you ban them from publication ?

No it’s not, he said with a grin. I mean, people can catch me laughing on camera and stuff, I don’t really mind that much. But most of the time, it’s because I’m not really at ease. And I’m not really myself either, you know ?

Not really yourself ? You asked with a raised eyebrow.

Well, if my daughters take a picture of me, I might smile, but if it’s someone I don’t know and it’s for the media… They’re taking Eminem’s picture. Not mine, he shrugged.

Well, the two other outfits I have planned are definitely “Marshall-coded”, you chuckled. Is that ok ?

I guess, he said with a smile.

The team from the magazine started to arrive and set up things for the shoot. You let him change into the first outfit. It was a simple, classic one. Black jeans, black sneakers, white tee-shirt and Saint Laurent jacket, accesorized with silver chains that were on the daintier side, as well as a ring, a nice statement Rolex watch and a bracelet. When he came out of the room, he looked a bit perplexed.

You didn’t pack any hat, he pointed out. For any of the outfits.

That’s intentional, you said with a smirk.

Why ? He asked.

Because you’re getting the picture taken. The point is for people to see your face, you chuckled.

What if I don’t like my face ? He chuckled.

Well that’s your opinion, but your opinion is wrong, you replied with a smile. I like your face.

Do you ? He asked as he furrowed his eyebrows.

Of course.

His look softened a bit and he kissed your cheek before sitting in the makeup chair. It seemed like he knew everyone already. From what you gathered, he was used to working with this particular team of people whenever he was doing something with this magazine. He politely greeted everyone and even made small talk, though he seemed more distant. You could tell he was putting on a persona, but probably wasn’t too comfortable. You chuckled as you saw his annoyed look when the makeup artist applied makeup on his face. He noticed and instantly flipped you with a smirk. You silently watched from the side as he went in front of the camera and posed as the photographer directed. He looked good, for sure, but the whole thing felt unnatural. The person in front of you wasn’t Marshall. It was Eminem. And although it was his job, you weren’t sure you liked it too much. After all, you had never been an Eminem fan. The reason you appreciated the music was the man behind it, the real person you had befriended. You shook your head and smiled as he posed in what you assumed to be a stereotypical rapper fashion : not a smile in sight, dark expression, serious demeanor… When the set was done, he walked to you.

I see you making fun of me, lady, he smirked.

I would never, you said innocently.

What’s wrong ? He asked.

Who said there was anything wrong ? You mused.

I know your pretty little face, he chuckled. You can’t lie to me.

Mmmh… I’m just not used to seeing you like this, you said with a smile. But, yeah, you definitely look like a rapper. Almost like it’s your job !

Come on and tell me what outfit is next, he said as he grabbed your hand and led you to the bedroom.

The second outfit consisted of the same jeans, different sneakers, another white tee-shirt (slightly less fitted) as well as his Detroit Lions jacket, with no accessories, except for a watch. You thought it would be cool for the outfit to make a nod to his passion for football. In the months you’d known him, he’d spent countless hours trying to convince you to learn more about football, though you always replied that “actual” football was soccer and that the US version didn’t make any sense. It was more simple, more him.

I like it, he said as soon as he got dressed.

I like it too. The blue really brings out your eyes, you replied. Especially when you’re not wearing a hat.

You really hate my hats, don’t you ? He sighed.

I like them, you shrugged. I just like being able to look at your face…

The comment made him smile and he gently stroked your cheek.

You’re the boss, after all, he said with a wink.

Am I ? You asked cockily. I like the idea of being the boss…

Only for today, he replied as he rolled his eyes. And only for the outfits.

Too bad I can’t voice my opinion on makeup, you whispered.

What’s with the makeup ?

It’s too much, you chuckled. It’s going to clog your pores… You can’t see your actual skin underneath those layers !

Wait until they airbrush my face on Photoshop, he grinned.

That would be a heinous crime, you said with a smile.

Gotta hide those lines, he said with a wink.

I like the lines, you said softly as you stroked his cheeks, trying to get rid of some excess of makeup that made his skin look a bit cakey.

Do you ? He asked.

Yup, you whispered. I really do. They’re part of your face.

He chuckled and planted a kiss on your cheek before going back on set. For the whole duration, you looked at each other and you tried to get him to relax by making faces whenever the crew wasn’t looking. His look had softened a bit, although he still looked serious. You believed in miracles, but it would probably take a little more than that to get him to smile. You were leaning against the wall, watching him work, when the makeup artist settled next to you.

Hard not to stare, right ? She chuckled.

Mmmh ? You asked, as you weren’t really paying attention.

I’m just saying… The man is really attractive, she said. I’m Jenny, by the way. I’m in charge of makeup.

Hi, you said. I’m Y/N. I’m in charge of the clothes.

Are you his personal stylist ?

Just filling in, you chuckled.

Anyway, you did a great job, she complimented. He looks really good.

Thanks, you said, your eyes still focusing on Marshall.

You’re going to think I’m crazy but… You look just like that girl in the magazines. The one he was spotted with, a few weeks earlier, Jenny said.

Do I ? You asked as you feigned surprise. I wouldn’t be caught dead in that outfit, you added with a grin.

Anyway… She’s a pretty lucky girl… I mean, I’d definitely sell a kidney to be in her place.

You chuckled softly. You were indeed lucky. Sure, there was little truth to the story in the news, but you were definitely in luck to have Marshall in your life. However, you found yourself to be a little frustrated : ever since the two of you had rekindled your friendship, neither of you had made a move. Sure, you hugged all the time, sometimes held hands, and were overall really close. But he hadn’t mentioned the two of you “hanging out more” again. When you weren’t speaking, you mostly missed the friendship, but now that he was back in your life, you weren’t really against the idea of his kisses and his hands all over your body. In fact, you were all for it, and the memories kept you warm at night.

When he was done with the second set of pictures, he went to change and your heart skipped a beat when he emerged from the room. This final outfit was the most basic, but it was your favorite. He was wearing black jeans that were a bit washed out and a gray hoodie, matching shoes and no accessories. You had chosen these clothes because these were the exact ones he wore the day you met. You remembered thinking he was attractive when you first saw him, but somehow, he seemed even hotter. Everything in this outfit screamed “Marshall” in your opinion : no brands, comfy, nothing flashy, but still fitting to his style. The gray color definitely brought out his nice complexion and his eyes. He smiled as soon as he spotted you.

What do you think, boss ? He asked.

You look great, you said as you couldn’t smile from ear to ear. That’s my favorite look, right here.

Is it ? He mused.

Yeah… Definitely. Also, that’s what you were wearing when we met, you added.

Really ? He said with a smile. And you like it ?

Definitely ! You replied. I think it’s the look I associate with you the most. Simple and understated, but the sneakers give an edge.

I don’t remember my outfit of that day, he chuckled. But I do remember yours. I thought you were really pretty.

You chuckled and blushed lightly, not really knowing what to say. You were nervously playing with your sobriety pendant when you had an idea. You took it off and placed it on him.

I think the outfit is complete now, you said with a smile.

He chuckled and placed a kiss on your cheek before going back on set. Jenny touched up his makeup before going back to you while he posed.

You’ve done such a great job with these outfits, she said. You know, I’ve worked with him a few times, but I think it’s the first time I’ve seen him this relaxed.

I’m glad, you said softly.

How is it to work for him ? She asked. Must be pretty exciting…

It is, you chuckled. Not to make you jealous, but he is pretty great.

God, you’re lucky, she said dreamily.

You glanced at Marshall and noticed he was looking at you. The look on his face was soft and he was playing with the pendant in between takes. You couldn’t help but smile at him. That’s when it hit you : you were in love with Marshall Mathers. You would have expected such a realization to make you panic, but it was the contrary. You were almost overcome with joy and emotion. After all, you were lucky enough to have fallen in love with someone who had become your best friend in the past few months. And you knew for a fact that he found you attractive. In that instant, you knew you had to tell him. Oddly enough, you were more confident than ever. Last time, he had been the one to make a move by suggesting that you hung out more, so maybe the universe was letting you know that it was your turn.

The shoot ended and Marshall walked up to you as the crew was packing their stuff, except for the journalist who was patiently waiting for the interview. You both went to the room so that you could start packing the clothes and he could get changed. He sat on the bed as he watched you pack.

You did a great job with the outfits, he said.

Really ? You asked with the biggest smile.

Yeah. I like them. I felt confident, he chuckled. Doesn’t happen too much. Especially when I’m not wearing anything on my head.

I like it better that way, you said softly.

What’s wrong with Kangol ?

Nothing. Come to think of it, they might be the best thing you’ve worn on your head, except for beanies…, you said. I liked your beanie era. But the durags…?

I know, he chuckled. But, back then, it was pretty stylish…

You’ll have to find someone else to convince, Mathers, you grinned. Aren’t you changing clothes ?

Nope. Apparently, I look good in those, so…

You giggled and let him take off the makeup before doing the interview. You thought about the best way to confess your feelings to him. You didn’t want to be cheesy and corny and overdo it, but you wanted to do it in the right conditions. You figured you’d wait for a moment when the two of you would be alone. When the interview was done, people vacated the room and you were left with Paul and Marshall. The plan was to have something to eat delivered in the suite for lunch and then, they would head to the radio station while you went out shopping, waiting for Marshall to be done.

You did a good job with the interview, Marshall, Paul said. Especially dodging the questions on your personal life.

Let’s hope it goes just as well on the radio show this afternoon, Marshall shrugged. It’s going to be live, so I can’t really make a mistake on this one.

I already laid down the ground rules, Paul explained. I think you should be fine. So, I arranged what you asked for, for tonight and afterwards, you have your flight back to Detroit at 10 PM..

Are we staying that late ? You asked.

Yup, Marshall said with a grin. I have plans for us ! I think you’re going to like it.

Any clues ?

It’s not funny if you guess before we get there, he chuckled.

Now, you were definitely curious. You ate and everyone went on their way. You had a couple of hours to spare before meeting with Marshall back at the suite, so you decided to go visit the city, maybe find a couple of cool libraries and cafés. You were ecstatic to discover NYC. You had grown up watching Friends and you had always dreamed of visiting the city one day, maybe even living there. You were like the typical tourist : you took pictures of every cool building or anything remotely interesting that you saw. You also posted a few pictures on your Instagram page, that you had made public again since the rumors had seemed to die down. You would have loved to have Marshall with you, but you decided to make the most of it anyway : if he were around, you’d have security following you and it would be a whole thing. At least, if you were alone, you could just explore in peace. In true bookworm fashion, you entered the first cool-looking bookstore you saw and ended up spending way too much time there, as well as a big chunk of your paycheck. Obviously, you were a sucker for books, in whatever kind or form they came in. You didn’t even see the time, only being reminded of it when your phone buzzed. It was Marshall calling to tell you he was running a little late because of an impromptu selfie-taking session with fans waiting outside of the radio station. You told him it was ok, as you had lost track of time and weren’t too close to the hotel.

I’ll pick you up with the car, he said. Don’t move, just text me the address of the bookstore.

It was a blessing in disguise : you had been so reckless in your spending on books that there was no way you’d be able to carry that to the hotel. When you got to the car, your arms were full of books, almost causing you to stumble.

Thank God we’re not flying commercial, Marshall grinned. Otherwise, you’d spend a fortune on checked luggage.

I may have gotten a little carried away, you confessed. But this library was so cool ! There were pride flags everywhere, and they have such a great selection on intersectional feminism, like this book on bi-representation in TV shows, as well as this one on body positive issues, and there’s another one on gender identity in the era of social media…

You went on to blab about your purchases for a minute, causing him to chuckle.

Sorry, you said as you realized you probably got carried away. That’s not really interesting…

You’re so adorable, he said with a smile. You’re such a cute social justice warrior ! Stevie would love you !

Your youngest ? You asked.

Yeah. She’s really interested in stuff about gender identity. Came out as genderfluid a while ago, actually, he explained.

Oh. Are “she/her” her preferred pronouns ?

Anything works, he said. To be honest, it’s making life a little easier for me. I think I'd be stupid enough to make mistakes, so…

It’s great that you’re supportive, you said with a smile.

Not gonna lie, I didn’t even know what non-binary and genderfluid meant before she came out to me, he chuckled. But I’m glad she felt comfortable enough to do so. I love her so much, you know ?

This comment made your heart melt. He was definitely too sweet when it came to talking about his kids.

Well, you can definitely recommend these books to her, then, you said with a smile. You’d score some feminist points with her.

I could use that, he chuckled.

You’re also welcome to borrow them from me, if you want to do some light reading, you added.

That’s light reading ? He scoffed. Yeah… Thanks but uh… I’ll stick to comic books ! I’m not a big reader, you know ? But if I ever have to fill in a gap in a wall or prop up some furniture, I’ll definitely borrow them !

You chuckled and nudged him with your elbow.

Anyway, I think my girls would really love you ! He said.

You’ll have to introduce us, then ! So, where are you taking me ? You asked.

Bergdorf Goodman, he said with a smile. We’re going shopping !

Aren’t you afraid you’ll be disturbed by fans if you’re in such a public place ?

We’re getting the VIP suite, he said with a grin. No one will bother us.

You opened your mouth but no sound came out. When you thought about living your TV show fantasy in NYC, that wasn’t what came to mind… But you liked shopping and looking at nice clothes as much as the next girl, so you were all for it. When you went to the VIP shopping suite, you were like a kid in a Candy shop. You were offered drinks and a sales assistant came to see Marshall immediately.

What do you need today, Mr Mathers ? She asked in a sweet voice.

Ask the boss, he chuckled. She’s the one in charge of my closet.

Really ? You asked giddily.

You did a good job styling me for the photoshoot, he said. Plus, last time I checked, our deal still stands, so you might as well choose what I buy, if you’re going to raid my closet…

You squealed and chose the pieces you wanted the sales assistant to buy from the iPad she presented you with. You were thoroughly enjoying this shopping experience. It was unlike any other. Even when you went shopping with Cassie, it hadn’t been that fancy. Marshall tried on a few things and picked the ones he liked the most. You tried to get him to wear a little more color, but he was a bit reluctant. He also ended up picking a few pairs of sneakers to add to his collection.

Now, my turn ? He asked with a devilish grin.

What do you mean your turn ? You chuckled.

You pushed me out of my comfort zone, I’m doing the same, he said with a smirk. I’m getting you to try on some stuff.

Oh really ? You asked. Are you turning me into a rapper ?

I could, he said with a laugh. You like my closet. You’d love it.

I’m a girl, you pointed out.

So ? Gender is a social construct and clothing has no gender, he grinned. What ? Am I too feminist for you now ?

Don’t get cocky, Mathers, you joked. I’d like to see you in a dress…

Well, I’ll have you know that I have worn a few in some music videos, he said with a smirk. I played my own characters.

You did ?! You exclamed.

He used the iPad to get on YouTube and show you excerpts from music videos. He was, indeed, wearing dresses, as well as wigs and makeup. You were a bit shocked.

You’re basically a drag queen, you shrieked. That’s so awesome !!! You need to do that again !

I don’t know about that, he chuckled. I got over it, you know ? Plus, with the beard, it’s just not the same.

I’d like to see that, though, you grinned. Look at you, deconstructing gender !

He chuckled and looked proud of himself. It seemed to remind him of fun times. However, he did not lose track of his goal and picked items for you to try on. A far cry from your usual style, definitely more street-wear. On the rack that the sales assistant brought for you, you spotted a jacket similar to the one you had borrowed from him, that you loved so much.

They have a women’s version, he said with a smile. I thought you might enjoy it.

Oh my God, you said. It’s so beautiful !!!

Try it on, he said.

It fit like a glove. It was absolutely gorgeous. The fit was better than the one you got from him, seeing as it was tailored for a woman’s body.

What do you think ? He asked.

I love it, you shrieked.

Good, he chuckled. Now, try the rest.

He had picked out some great clothes, namely jeans, hoodies, chains and, of course, Jordan sneakers. He had you dressed from head to toe in a typical Eminem outfit. You were feeling a bit ridiculous, but you did enjoy the jacket and the sneakers.

I’m getting those for you, he said.

You’re not, you replied as you shook your head.

Come on ! Let me have fun ! He pleaded.

It’s too much, Marshall.

Please ? He asked. That’ll be your salary. If I’d hired a stylist, I would have paid them.

You already got me on the flight, you pointed out.

Whatever. I’m getting these for you or you’re going back to Michigan on foot, carrying those huge books by yourself, he said.

Fine. Thank you. You’re the best, you said before hugging him.

You ended up spending quite a bit of time in the store, but you had a lot of fun. You also ended up treating yourself to a nice handbag, to congratulate yourself for remaining sober for a whole month. It was fancy and definitely one of your biggest purchases ever, but you felt like it and could easily afford it, since you were saving a lot of money on rent thanks to Talia and Jamal’s refusal to let you contribute. When you exited the store, your chauffeur was waiting to take you to another destination.

Where are we going now ? You asked giddily, having the time of your life.

I would have loved to take you to some touristic places, but I’m afraid it’s going to be complicated if we don’t want to be bothered, he said. But I’m taking you to a really iconic monument in New York.

After a bit of driving, the car parked in front of the Empire State Building. You were a bit flabbergasted.

Isn’t this place supposed to be highly touristic ? You wondered. Plus, it’s nighttime, so it’s probably closed…

Well, yeah… Except that I know someone who knows someone and I got us dinner in a private room on the highest floor, he chuckled. That way, you will be able to admire the city !

You immediately jumped in his arms.

You’re the best. Seriously, you have no idea… I always dreamed of coming here, when I was a teen and completely broke ! I could cry right now, you said.

Don’t, he chuckled. Let’s go !

You entered the building, escorted by security, and took the elevator to the highest floor. A nice table was waiting for the two of you. The view was absolutely mesmerizing. The city lights were glowing. It was like a dream come true. You jumped in his arms and he made you twirl. You couldn’t believe you were feeling like such a princess. If it wasn’t for the presence of waiters and security, you would have made your move and kissed him. Instead, you just hugged him.

You’re the greatest, you whispered.

Happy one month sober, he chuckled. I’m so proud of you, Y/N.

A waitress came and handed you flutes. You were about to refuse when Marshall stopped you.

It’s sparkling non-alcoholic wine. And it’s from France, he explained with a smile. Shortly after we met, I remember you telling me you missed French wines, so…

You’re amazing !

He kissed your temple and you toasted to your sobriety. In that moment, you felt good in his presence, and you couldn’t help but think that this man was single-handedly ruining any other men’s chances of ever impressing you. He was just the best at making gestures. You also had a nice dinner and enjoyed the view a little more before going to the airport and boarding the plane. You were both tired on the flight home, and you were about to fall asleep in your seats when the aircraft began shaking. Marshall immediately took you in his arms and you held each other as the captain informed you that it was turbulence. You knew they might not be a big deal, according to the science behind it, but your brain was freaking out. Neither Marshall nor the security people seemed too relaxed either, mind you. Eventually, though, you landed and you couldn’t be happier to be home. As you exited the plane, Marshall got a phone call and you waited for him on the tarmac. He came to you about ten minutes later.

Is there anything wrong ? You asked as you were wondering why someone would call at almost midnight.

Oh, that was nothing, he said. It was Nicole, she just got off her shift.

Nicole…? You asked, not really knowing who he was referring to.

Yeah, the nurse you met in the ER the other day, he said. I mean, you probably don’t remember, with the painkillers and stuff…

No, no, I know who she is, you said, still not really getting it. Is there anything wrong ?

No, nothing, he said. She was calling me to confirm our date night tomorrow.

You looked at him in shock. At that moment, you felt something break inside of you. The plane might not have crashed to the ground, but your heart definitely had.

#eminem #marshall mathers #slim shady #eminem fanfiction #eminem x reader #eminem fluff #eminem imagine #marshall mathers x reader #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers headcanons #recovery fanfiction

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headfullofpresley · 1 year

Text

𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞

Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader

Word count: 4K

Summary: After doing Vogue's “Life in Looks” and reminiscing on your life with Elvis and Caroline, your late husband makes sure you and your daughter know he's still around.

Warning(s): life after losing a spouse, lil bit angsty, inaccurate timelines etc, doesn't follow timelines of other fics including Caroline, set in the late 90s bc i felt like it (just pretend life in looks is on tv or smth lol), reminiscing about a deceased spouse, flashback, bit of spiritual stuff (i still wanted him to be in this lol ☻), Elvis' death is not described here or whatsoever.

A/N: so, i usually never write about elvis not being among us anymore but ofc... i got carried away. the ending is kinda silly, but i thought it was cute. this was requested by my dear @rosepresley and even though it turned out a little different, i hope you'll still enjoy it, love! <3

masterlist

While your husband was known to the world as The King and many other titles, to you he was just Elvis.

Even though the anniversary of his death ticked on twenty years now and you had given the loss a place, there wasn’t a day that you didn’t think about him or didn’t miss him.

Caroline was only nine when her father passed and even though nobody would ever forget him, you and your now twenty nine year old daughter worked hard to keep his legacy alive.

While still living at Graceland, which felt a lot emptier without your husband there, you’d make sure events would be held on the property which fans could be a part of – the Christmas lights ceremony during the holidays, sometimes even small concerts held for charities right in your front yard. At times, fans would still linger outside the gates–mostly on the day he had passed or during his birthday week–and you could spend hours out there talking to them.

While you weren’t always happy with the lack of privacy when being out with Elvis or having fans outside your house in the dead of the night, you felt like you owed the attention to them now. You were aware that you didn’t, but these were the people that loved when you talked about the man they looked up to – probably more than anyone.

Aside from that, you were still being asked for interviews and press as well. You loved talking about Elvis and your life with him, but you were still careful as to who exactly you told those stories to – you had declined enough interviews and TV specials in the past, as did Caroline, because you were both aware how the media could twist your words and make up their own story which they knew would sell better.

When Vogue asked you for their ‘Life in Looks’ series, you were doubtful at first. This meant you’d have to talk more so about yourself rather than Elvis, but Caroline reminded you how much you loved fashion and Vogue in particular. You had a trusty subscription of the magazine, getting most of your inspiration from it when it came to your sense of style. Your daughter always assured you that it would be okay for you to talk about yourself rather than about Daddy only and you knew she was right.

Despite your entire life having revolved, and still revolving, around Elvis, you were still your own person.

He would want you to do this, especially since he made big fashion statements himself back in the day and he loved dressing you up and picking out your outfits for you.

“Just pretend we’re not here, mrs. Presley. Take all the time you need,” one of the editors smiled at you as she stood besides the camera, another girl with a Vogue lanyard around her neck placing a big white photobook in front of you. “We’ve included fifteen looks for the day but we have more pictures at hand, so if you don’t feel comfortable telling about some, we can change them up a little,”

You smiled brightly, nodding your head as you let one of the stylists fix a lock of your hair, making sure it laid perfectly over your shoulder. You knew what to do because you weren’t foreign to the concept and had seen other people doing it, but you couldn’t help but be a little nervous.

Caroline stood on the side, putting her thumbs up as she smiled brightly – ever the supportive daughter.

You chuckled softly and shot her a wink, crossing your legs under the table you were sat at as you looked at the camera. As you got the cue they were rolling, you planted a bright smile on your face, manicured nails tracing the corners of the book in front of you.

“Hi Vogue, I’m Y/N Presley and this is my Life in Looks,” you told the camera happily, although making sure not to overdo your enthusiasm.

You continued on as you were told to do, knowing that they could cut and edit the taping it was meant to be shown to the public.

You opened the book, your smile growing a little as the first picture was of you being taken out on your first date with Elvis – he wasn’t shown in the picture, because this was mostly about you and the outfit you were wearing in the picture.

“The hair,” you pointed out, laughing softly as you tapped your nail against your very extravagant hairdo. It was all high and teased, and very out there. “This was in 1960, during our first date at the fair. He rented out the place like he usually did and I remember the air being so humid, even at night, I was not having a good time with this much hair,” you chuckled, remembering how you’d complain to Elvis how you wished you would’ve kept your hair down.

He assured you you looked gorgeous, even with the sheen of sweat on your forehead. You had known Elvis since before he served in the army, so you weren’t ashamed when he pointed it out. Before he became the love of your life, he was your best friend first.

“This little dress came out of my very own closet. I don’t even think it was a brand, but I was obsessed,” you giggled, looking at the camera. Sneakily catching Caroline’s eye, a smirk tugged at your lips. “She doesn’t like me saying this, but Caroline wore this dress on the first date she went on,” you whispered and your daughter gasped soundlessly, muffling a chuckle in the palm of her hand.

You smiled happily as you turned the page, talking the viewers through a few more pictures that were taken of you at the airport and so on, reminiscing happily about the day it was taken and about what you were wearing. Even though this interview was specifically cathered to you, you still talked about Elvis during pretty much every picture but you didn’t care – and neither did the crew.

This man had been your entire life. The only man you had ever been with. How could you not talk about him?

Your heart skipped a beat as you turned the page and looked right at a wedding picture of you and Elvis.

“Oh, this was such a big day for us. Our wedding day,” you smiled lovingly at the camera before looking back down, your finger tracing Elvis’ face in the picture. The camera above your head made sure to catch it. “Charlie Hodge, who as you all might know worked for Elvis, went with me to go dress shopping because people would recognize me going into stores and then they’d find out there would be a wedding,” you laughed softly, looking at the camera as you placed your hands neatly on the table underneath the book. “I put on a little disguise and me and Charlie pretended to be the ones getting married – nobody recognized us,”

Caroline’s cheeks were aching with how big she was smiling, her hands clutched firmly against her chest. She always loved hearing you talk about your life with her father before the time she was born and she could see how much you were enjoying it.

“I picked this dress because it was very lightweight and feminine, and it matched perfectly with Elvis’ suit,” you looked at the picture again, smiling fondly at the smiling face of your husband in the picture before turning the page once more.

After talking about your honeymoon for a little bit, Caroline knew what was coming and she giggled softly as she watched you pout at the camera, tapping the picture of you and Elvis while holding little baby Caroline in your arms. It was taken only a few hours after you had given birth, but dressed in a pink dress and your hair teased to perfection, it looked far from a woman who had nearly broke her husband’s hand hours before.

“Look at that face, that’s a happy dad,” you grinned as you pointed out Elvis’ face, who was smiling cutely as he looked at Caroline in your arms while you sat on the bed. “He couldn’t believe he had a child and you can clearly see that on his face. I think a lot of men are like this, but he was afraid to hold her – terrified. I was never allowed to leave his side when she’d be in his arms because he was so scared that he’d drop her,” you laughed, the memories flashing before your eyes.

“El, you won’t hurt her, I promise you,” you laughed as you sat on your knees on the bed, baby Caroline sleeping safe and sound in your arms, Elvis propped up against the headboard of the bed.

He was in his underwear, wanting to try the method of holding his baby girl against his bare chest because he read in one of your parenting books that it’d help to steady the bond between child and father.

You had forgotten about the books long ago, because as soon as you held Caroline in your arms for the first time, motherhood came natural to you. Elvis would read them every night in bed, because he wanted to make sure to become the picture perfect father.

You didn’t give him time to back out of it, moving closer to him on your knees in a slow pace as you handed Caroline to him, making sure to put her in a supported position. He placed a gentle hand under her head, his other on her tiny back as she laid comfortably in his arms, pressed against his chest.

The room was just the right temperature but you could see that the baby who was only wearing a diaper immediately enjoyed the warmth radiating off Elvis’ chest when their skins touched. She bawled her tiny hands into fists before sprawling her little fingers, her eyes slowly fluttering open.

“Stay with me, honey,” he told you with a soft hint of panic on his tongue, making sure you wouldn’t leave his side as he held Caroline.

You laughed softly and nodded, sinking further in the mattress as you mimicked his position and sat next to him. You smiled down at your daughter as her eyes found Elvis’, a goofy smile spreading across her face.

“She likes this,” you told him, gently leaning your head against his upper arm, your fingertips ghosting over Caroline’s forehead. “I think the rhythm of your heart calms her down,” you pointed out in a whisper, you and Elvis watching as the little girl in his arms stared up at her father, her tiny chest heaving up and down slowly.

“She’s so pretty,” he whispered lowly, afraid the vibrations of his voice if he spoke any louder would scare his daughter. Moving his arm a little lower so she rested on just one arm, he brought his other hand to her face, feather light fingertip trailing down her nose. “Your nose,”

You chuckled softly at the way Caroline’s smile widened because of his touches, her toothless gums on full display. Elvis laughed softly, turning to press a kiss on the top of your head.

“Can you believe we made… this?”

“Hmmhmm. Because she has your mouth,” you laughed softly, kissing his shoulder. “I bet she’ll be just as stubborn as you,”

He feigned a gasp, shoulders shaking a little as he laughed – he was about to comment that she’d definitely get the stubborness from you, but as Caroline giggled right along with the two of you, all he could do was stare at her with fond eyes.

Slowly but surely, Elvis allowed you to do your own thing whenever he’d hold her. His favorite spot was always in the bed, because that way he was absolutely sure nothing could happen to her.

Nothing ever did happen to her whenever he was holding her though, whenever in or out the bed, and to you he was a damn good father.

A natural, like you – but he never believed those words no matter how many times you’d tell him.

Caroline watched you proudly the entire time, talking about your life with her and her father, and how your own sense of style had changed throughout the years. Although Elvis loved picking out things for you to wear, you developed a big interest in fashion and design as you got older and he loved whenever you’d wear something that you designed yourself.

Your style was similar to his – the two of you always matched perfectly, looking sophisticated but still out there, turning heads. The two of you were always comfortable around each other, but not so comfortable it would turn sloppy.

There were never days where you would be lounging around the house in pajamas for an entire day. Elvis loved to dress up on any occasion, even when not leaving the house, and so did you.

On Christmas and New Year’s Eve, you’d both go all out, putting on your best fits because that’s when you felt most confident. And to the both of you, that was one of the best feelings in the world.

There weren’t much pictures of you and Elvis with Caroline when she was young because that’s something both you and your husband wanted to keep private. You did allow the crew to put a picture of Caroline’s 6th birthday in the book in front of you, because it was one of your favorites – you actually had it framed on your bedside table.

“See, this is Care’s 6th birthday and even though it was only a child’s birthday party, we were dressed like we were going to the fanciest place in town,” you told the camera, laughing softly. Elvis was in all black except for the white collar that was popped up, velvet trench coat adorning his frame. You and Caroline wore matching dresses – white ruffled poet shirts underneath a hand beaded mid length shift dress, the pattern on it throwing you right back into the 70s because of the small flowers on it. “But that was just.. our style. And Elvis loved dressing up Caroline – he loved it when she matched with us, no matter what the occasion was,”

You shot a sneaky wink Caroline’s way, who was soundlessly gasping for a breath of air as she felt a lump forming in her throat. She loved talking about Elvis as much as you did and she was able to without breaking down because it had been so many years, but the love she felt for her father was unexplainable.

Untouchable.

Their bond had always been extremely strong and even after his passing, that never faded. If anything, it only heightened. As she grew older, she was able to understand him better and see him through different eyes and while Caroline realised her father wasn’t perfect, the amount of love she carried toward him would always be there and it would always be hers.

She smiled at you, blowing you a kiss which made your smile widen – you continued on like nothing happened as you spoke to the camera, hoping your voice wasn’t giving away the thickness you felt forming in your throat.

While you could honestly speak about your husband for hours, the interview had to come to an end and you were kind of glad it did. All you wanted to do now was fly back to Memphis and spend time in the home that belonged to you and your husband. You were still professional though, talking a little with the crew and thanking everyone before you left the building.

The flight from New York to Memphis was five hours, but on the private plane time flew by fast, which you were thankful for. Despite Caroline not living at Graceland anymore, she decided to stay the night because she could see how emotional today had made you.

“Do you regret doing the interview? Was it too much?” Caroline asked softly as she laid in your bed, looking at you with a soft smile when you slipped under the covers in Elvis’ spot. You hadn’t slept on your own side since the day he passed.

“No, not at all. I love Vogue and I feel honored they asked me,” you smiled as you sat against the headboard, Caroline turning on her side to plant her head in the palm of her hand. “Seeing all the pictures just brought back a lot of memories, more than I thought they would,”

Your daughter smiled, reaching out her hand to you. You slipped your hand in hers, sighing deeply.

“Good ones I hope?”

“Ofcourse. Always good ones,” you told her with a nod of your head, kissing the back of her hand before squeezing it. “Your father and I had our lows as well, but even those memories are dear to me. He really was one of a kind, Care,”

The blonde next to you crawled closer to you, sitting up against the bed as well as she released your hand and linked her arm through yours instead, putting her head on your shoulder.

“He really was,” she whispered, looking at the wedding ring that still sat prettily on your hand. “Do you think he’s watching us?”

“Knowing your father, he’s probably right here with us right now,” you laughed softly, looking at Caroline as she raised her head to look at you with wide eyes.

“What? What do you mean right now?”

The slight panic in her eyes made you laugh harder, shrugging your shoulders as you looked around the room.

“I feel him around me all the time. I’ve gotten used to the feeling of… being watched,” you grinned playfully at her and she whined at the spine-chilling tone in your voice which you used on purpose.

It was true, though. You felt his presence all the time and you had gotten used to it – even though he couldn’t answer you or talk back, you spoke to him all the time when you’d be alone in the house. Before he passed, he promised he’d always be around and you believed him.

“Nooo, you’re joking,” Caroline laughed as she threw a pillow your way, which made you giggle as you caught it and threw it back at her. “I mean I’ve dreamt about him before, but you’re totally fucking with me right now. Dad’s probably too busy stealing the show up there,” your daughter joked as she put the pillow back in place, the light on the bedside table flickering right that second.

She widened her eyes as she immediately crawled over to you, almost planting herself on your lap, which made you only laugh harder.

You were about to tell her to calm down and that she shouldn’t be scared, but a loud bang that rumbled from downstairs actually got Caroline jumping in your lap this time, her arms firmly wrapped around your neck. Now that was something you never heard before and even though you were surprised, you couldn’t stop laughing at your daughter’s actions.

“Let’s go downstairs,” you told her with a giggle as you pushed her off, getting up from the bed. Picking up your robe, you put it on as Caroline shook her head. She wanted to decline and stay in bed, but she also didn’t want to be left alone right now so as you left the room, she quickly run after you.

“Mom, what if it’s actually someone in the house? I’m not dressed to fight!” she whispered harshly as she looked at the dress shirt she stole out of Elvis’ side of your wardrobe, her hands planted firmly on your shoulders while the both of you tiptoed down the stairs.

You laughed softly, easily finding your way through the house in the dark. “No one is here, Care,” you chuckled as you flicked on some lights in the dining room, knowing that Graceland’s security system was tight and nobody was able to come in unless you allowed them to.

The both of you didn’t see anything out of the ordinary at first, until Caroline pointed out the slightly ajar door of one of the cabinets that stood against the wall. You recognized the photobook that laid on the floor, obviously having fallen out of the cabinet.

Or more so, as if someone deliberately put it there.

You walked over to it, picking it up and opening it on the first page which immediately brought a smile to your face. “This was taken on Christmas Eve, you were just one year old,” you told Caroline as you put the book on the table, sitting down. Caroline had seen it already, she had seen all family photo’s, but she loved looking at them.

Her fear faded as she sat down next to you, smiling as the two of you happily turned pages to look at the pictures of all the Christmasses spend together. It was like a warm blanket was wrapped around you and you knew Caroline felt the same, because she had completely forgotten about the light that flickered or the worries of someone breaking into the house.

You wrapped your arm around her shoulder, kissing her temple as she smiled at the picture of her and her father in the snow, along with the snowman they build together. Bright smiles and flushed cheeks – the sight of it warmed your heart.

“Your father will always be here,” you whispered to her as you softly leaned your head against hers, rubbing her arm. “He’s gonna be there with you every step along the way, no matter what you do or where you go. Don’t you ever forget it,”

She sniffed softly, nodding her head as she turned to you to hug you tightly, your hand drawing soothing circles on her back. “I know,” she sighed, laughing softly through her tears. “As long as he doesn’t make the light flicker again, I’m okay with it,”

You laughed as you pulled back a little to look at her, cupping her face to wipe her tears away with your thumbs. “He knows you’ll probably flee your house in the middle of the night so I’m sure he won’t,”

She chuckled as she nodded, rushing a hand through her hair as you let her go.

“And he’s right. If that would’ve happened to me if I was at my place, I’d probably run onto the streets screaming,”

You bet she wouldn’t, but you still laughed at her words. You were sure Elvis would let her know he was with her in other ways, but you wouldn’t mind at all if he made the lights in your room flicker or whatsoever.

It gave you comfort knowing he was still there, popping in whenever he pleased.

After drinking some tea and looking at some more pictures, you and Caroline decided to go back upstairs and sleep away the rush of emotions the both of you went through today.

You fluffed your pillow a little, laying down after you turned the light on your side off. Caroline sighed happily, reaching for the light on her side – once again, it flickered before she had the chance to turn it off.

“Seriously, Dad?” she deadpanned, moving closer to you again instead of turning the light off like she planned to.

You laughed, shaking your head in amusement as you reached over to the lamp, switching it off.

“Give the girl a break, El,” you chuckled, laying back down. Caroline was immediately pressed against your side, pulling the blankets up to her chin.

Just like when she was a little girl, you played with her hair to make her drift off into a slumber. While she could be a tough one with a big mouth, you didn’t care that she still liked to be babied a little at twenty nine years old.

She would always be your and Elvis’ little girl and that was your most beautiful achievement.

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sluttyten · 2 years

Text

Backstage

Yesterday <- || -> Kinktober Masterlist

Day Twenty-Eight: 69 or Oral Sex w/ Renjun

Words: 1,712

There’s something to be said for dating an idol when you too are an idol. Getting to see him all dolled up, feeling himself on stage, knowing that you’ll get to take him apart in all the way that his fans want to do to him.

Renjun is that for you.

Your group members and staff have no clue, by some miracle. You’re good at keeping secrets, but you would think that when you’re sitting in your waiting room, watching the TV that shows NCT Dream performing on stage at that moment, that they would maybe notice how intently you’re watching Renjun.

You would think that they would notice you mention Renjun at least a time or two during interviews when asked about other groups. You would think too that they would have picked up on you having a secret boyfriend when hickeys are uncovered and the makeup unnies have to cover them up for you with makeup.

But no one ever says a thing.

Then there are times like tonight, during one of these ceremonies and big concerts that come towards the end of the year, as your group lines up on the side of the stage to go out next, that you wonder how they can all be so blind.

NCT Dream is performing right now. And you are watching Renjun dance on stage, rolling his hips, giving a little thrust here, lifting his shirt to reveal his belly and the barely visible mark that you left the other night when you were last together.

You have to go on stage in a moment, but right now all you can think of is sucking your boyfriend’s dick. Just running your hands up beneath his shirt, dragging your bejeweled nails down over his belly, tugging his pants down so you can get at his dick, sucking until Renjun cums down your throat.

When his group files off the stage, wiping away sweat, accepting handheld fans from their manager, they walk right by you. Your group members bow respectfully toward the boys, the boys bowing right back. But Renjun looks at you, a warm smile, a sweeping gaze over your figure, a small wink.

God, you want him.

It’s been two days since you were last together, but you miss him. You’re at the point in your life where you just want to be with your boyfriend, like you don’t need to live in a dorm with six other girls. You want an apartment with your boyfriend, to eat dinner with him, to do laundry together, to fall asleep and wake up beside him in bed. You want to be able to have sex without trying to sneak around or plan ahead.

The girl behind you gives you a nudge, and then you’re walking out on stage, forced to push down all of those wants and desires and that horny urge that rests heavy in your core.

As you step out onto the stage you tug lightly at the hem of the short plaid pink skirt you’re wearing. All of the other girls are wearing them too in various colors. Your tops are all different, but your shirt is a cropped off the shoulder top that basically only covers your boobs.

You know that Renjun will be watching you from backstage. That he’ll be thinking about you. It’s something he’s told you before, mixed in with a complaint about how revealing all the stage outfits your stylist puts you in are.

“You just look so sexy on stage. Your fanbase has so many guys,” Renjun had complained as he touched all the bare skin that your fans can see when you’re on stage. “I know they all sit there, imagining fucking you.”

“And how do you know that?” You’d asked him, squirming as his touches turned to tickles.

“Because that’s all I think about when you’re on stage,” Renjun had spoken the words against your skin.

Tonight, you’re sure it’s no different than usual. The tight top, short skirt, the knee-high socks, your pigtails. It’ll speak to the schoolgirl roleplay that he’d mentioned before.

You get on stage, performing your heart out with your group, soaking up the screams and cheers and the voices singing along.

When you leave the stage, exhilarated by the performance, you all rush back to the waiting room, ready to change into your outfits for the final stage of the night where all the different groups come out to celebrate together.

You’re passing by the waiting room of the group that’s performing right now, when someone’s hand reaches out of the doorway and pulls you inside.

Renjun.

The door snaps shut behind you.

“We have about fifteen minutes I would guess,” he says quickly, already pulling you deeper into the room. “They’ve got one of the longer performance times of the night, and I think we need that, don’t we?”

You’re a bit confused until Renjun lies down on the sofa, pulling you down with him. “I watched your performance, and how many times do I have to tell you that if you’re going to dress like this on stage, I’m going to feel provoked? Now, I need you to sit on my face like I’ve been imagining for the last ten minutes, please.”

You take only a few seconds to slip your safety shorts off from beneath your skirt, letting them dangle from one ankle as you climb onto the sofa, straddling Renjun’s head as you sink down. He happily reaches up, hands on your thighs, pulling you down so he can lick along your pussy.

You lower yourself over him, quickly unfastening his belt, the button, sliding down the zipper, reaching into your boyfriend’s pants and getting his cock out.

Renjun moans against you when you take him between your lips, your hand covering what your lips don’t.

You’re both aware of the clock ticking on the wall, counting down the seconds you have to get each other off before you’re discovered by the returning other group or staff members for the group. Luckily, you’ve had practice with quickies--fucking fast in the van before his manager can come find you, blowing him in the stall at the radio station when they guested on your radio show.

Renjun’s hands run over your thighs and your bare belly, fingertips dipping up beneath your short top to touch your tits while he buries his face against you, licking and sucking, fucking his tongue inside your pussy. He rocks his hips off the sofa into the heat of your mouth, and you reach down to fondle his balls through his pants, swirling your tongue around his tip.

It’s exhilarating doing this here, in a place that’s really only semi-private.

You grind down on Renjun’s tongue, he’s really reaching the place that you need him to be, unraveling that hot knot of arousal that’s been tightening in your belly since you watched him on stage earlier.

When he reaches a hand up to squeeze your ass, slapping it lightly right as he licks along the length of your pussy, ending it with a sweet flick of his tongue and then his lips closing around you clit to suck at it, you finally lose it. Your orgasm quakes through you.

Renjun follows immediately after, feeling you cumming right on his face. His cum hits the back of your throat, and you gag as you try swallowing it all, happy to take everything he gives you, especially since you’re riding out your orgasm on his face at the same time, probably messing up his makeup.

He keeps licking you out until you pull your mouth off of his cock, and you drag yourself away from his mouth. “Oh my God,” you sigh, twisting around to lay down on his chest with your face in front of his now. His lip makeup is messed up a little bit, but not enough that anyone’s really going to notice. Probably. “If we weren’t hurrying, I think I would let you keep going.”

“Later,” Renjun promises, lifting his head to press a kiss against your lips. “I’m seeing you later, I don’t care if I have to break you out of your dorm.”

You laugh, dragging him in for a last kiss. “I’d love to see that, Renjun.”

He smiles up at you as you pull yourself away completely now, standing up beside the sofa. Renjun tucks his cock away and follows you into standing up. He checks his reflection in a nearby mirror, and you help him wipe at the smudged lip makeup until it looks better.

“Later,” he promises again as he walks toward the door. “I mean it.”

“I believe you.” You blow a kiss, and Renjun just smiles brightly as he turns and slips quickly out the door.

You wait a couple minutes, and right as you’re about to step out too, the door opens and staff and group members of this other group begin to flood inside. They freeze and look at you, standing there in the middle of their waiting room, your cheeks looking a little flushed.

It’s just luck that you’re good friends with one of the girls in this group, and you think quick and begin cheering for her and congratulating her group on such a good performance. You hug her, tell her again how good she did, and you start to walk out of the room when she grabs your arm and walks with you to the hallway.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you,” she whispers, “Or why you were actually in there, but I thought I’d let you know that you’ve got a little something right here.” She taps the corner of her mouth.

Your hand flies to your mouth, and with your face feeling very hot with embarrassment, you wipe at a tiny bit of Renjun’s cum that you’d missed. “Thanks. Listen, I--” you start, but then you see your manager walking down the hall towards you, probably coming to look for you after you’ve been missing for fifteen minutes. Quickly, you tell your friend, “I’ll tell you later.”

You wipe at the rest of your mouth and chin, hoping you didn’t miss anything else, and you hurry away to meet your manager.

#renjun smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #renjun #nct #nct dream #nct fic

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hologramcowboy · 2 years

Note

Good Morning America Review

Outfit: 9/10

While this outfit isn’t my cup of tea, it’s better than anything he’s worn in a while. The colors actually work with his complexion, it’s appropriate for the occasion, and it does look like something Jensen would have picked for himself in his pre stylist days. I did take a point off for the sneakers (they make me think of Ellen Degeneres) and because when he sits down his pants are a bit too short and with the white socks + white sneakers combo it’s just not a good look.

The host of the show makes it obvious that she is reading off a teleprompter when she’s introducing Jensen. Right off the bat she is setting the tone of the interview as uninteresting and unimportant, which is super unprofessional of her. A big part of being a good talk show host is treating every guest as though they are the most interesting person in the world and as though you personally follow their career with great interest. Immediately we know she does know who Jensen is, nor does she care. Some unpaid intern gave her a file about him, she skimmed through it and called it good. Another big part of being a good talk show host is being so charismatic that it rubs off on your guests. You put people at ease, make them forget about the cameras and the audience. You have to be able to turn even the most unpersonable guest into someone who can charm and capture the attention of your audience. Jensen needs all the help he can get in this department (we know talk shows aren’t a place he shines), and she provided none. Anyone can ask questions, not everyone can be an interviewer. I’m going to try to go easy on Jensen given that this lady isn’t giving him much to work with.

Jensen was clearly very nervous, he was stuttering from the very beginning. Not quite making eye contact, closing his eyes for a smidge too long between blinks. This interview is all business, no fluffy family or personal life talk. Lackluster answers about The Boys, can’t really talk about the show behind his own character which tells me that he doesn’t actually care about it beyond his own role/paycheck. When he talks about Soldier Boy it’s the same canned responses about toxic masculinity and being a bad person. He doesn’t give any real depth to the character. Once you’ve heard Jensen give one interview about The Boys, you’ve heard them all.

Interestingly enough she asked about The Winchesters, and it’s clear that Jensen wished she didn’t. Jensen says that fans really wanted more from the Supernatural universe. That’s true, though this wasn’t the story anyone wanted because it’s one that was already told. Jensen stumbled over talking about the premise of the prequel, she took pity on him and referred to it as what fans need to complete the puzzle. Jensen said “I think so, we’re just expanding. We’ll see where we go from there.” He clearly has no clue what’s going on with the project and what they’re going to do to get themselves out of the hole they’ve dug themselves into.

The interview ends kind of abruptly, the whole thing was kind of a waste of four minutes. I kept waiting for them to get to the point or for it to get interesting and it never did. GMM has their comment section on so I took a peek to see what others were saying. Mostly AAs singing Jensen’s praises, but people who don’t know him noticed that between the rigid, formulaic way GMM conducts interviews and the interviewer’s lack of interest and charm this just wasn’t a good interview.

This review is so spot on.

Reference: X Part II of III Part I: X

#jensen critical

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rottingflowrs · 4 months

Text

omg omg omg shut up because 141! hard rock band brain rot.

navigation ／ masterlist

pairing: 141! × afab!reader ( mention of female anatomy)

(Vocalist! ghost, Guitarist!Gaz, Bassist!Price, Drummer!Soap )

warnings / contains: mentions of female anatomy,brief thigh riding , cockwarming ,use of pet names like doll , dollie , make up , a chipped tooth , me not knowing the architectural design of tour buses , my writing lmao.(let me know if there's something I need to add)

a/n: might build this into a series if anyone is interested.I have written after a long long time so I might be a little rusty but I enjoyed doing this :p

(slightly NSFW)

you being their favourite groupie.

lots of good luck kisses before they go on stage

Going on all their tours with them

You’re their favourite little dolly to dress up to show off

They buy you expensive makeup (totally not because they’re gonna want to use it too )

Sitting in their lap before a show and doing their makeup for them

They watch you with adoration as you concentrate on getting the eyeliner right, sticking a bit of your tongue out of habit.

Makeup artists? Personal stylists? psssh no that is what you’re job. you’ll do it for them won’t you, dollie?

Sitting on their laps removing all their make-up after the show. Gently rubbing the cotton pad on their eyes removing copious amounts of eyeliner and glittery eyeshadow

They don’t rub off the lipstick stains on their cheeks before they go on stage. Love it when you mark them up with different shades of lipstick.

OMFG THEIR LIPS HAVE A LITTLE GLITTER ON THEM FROM YOUR LIP GLOSS AFTER A QUICK PRE-SHOW MAKE-OUT SESH.

Simon has you pick out all his outfits for him, he's a private man and isn't on social media. He doesn't know what is in he needs your help to decide what he looks good in. He doesn’t understand how colour pallets work, what do you mean he’s cool-toned? Maybe you should help dress him too while you’re at it since you’re such a smartie :>

Gaz using the excuse of teaching you how to play the guitar to spend more time with you. Sweeps you away from the other when the tour bus is at a halt. Finger brushes up against yours as he gently guides your finger across the stringed instrument as you sit in between his arms, your back against his chest. Gently humming as he teaches you a simple tune his chest vibrating against your back. The gentle rumbling of his chest as he’s humming putting you to sleep. Mumbling how you need to be rewarded later for being such a fast learner, you learned so many cords in one day now all you need to do is relax dollie he’ll take care of the rest.

Price brings you up in EVERY interview. He is absolutely whipped. Loves doing all the domestic bullshit with you. Cooks with you in a dinky small kitchen in the tour bus, dances with you, sings for you. Eats your baking failures without a complaint despite you telling him not to .no doll these cookies aren’t too hard to chew. Ends up with a chipped tooth asks and asks you to kiss him after to make it all better.

Soap setting you down on his lap to teach you the drums, holding your wrists gently to guide your hands. Slowly shifting you to one of his thighs.Bouncing you on his thigh out of the excuse of getting your attention but you can practically feel him smirking from behind you. He knows what he’s doing.

NSFW

THEY ARE INSATIABLE

Always have to be around you. Touching some part of you.Hugging you.Hand at your lower back.Head resting on your shoulder.

They love marking you up it’s only fair. You get to mark them with your lipstick stains, and sure the marks they give you don’t come off with makeup remover or water but you look good with them. makes you look even prettier dollie

Take turns fucking you in the recording studio to see who can make you moan the prettiest. Make you sit down and hear it and decide which one sounded the best. They definitely get super competitive.

Use your whines and moans in the background of their songs RAHHHHHHHH

Soap needs a quickie before every show .omfg doing it in the wings.omfg, I’m weak. Him grunting and grumbling I’m your ear about how much he needs you because you’re his favourite thing his good luck charm. He needs to perform well for his fans and only you can ensure that

Gaz insists you join him for every post-concert shower because only you can get him all clean. He has you lather him up and takes his sweet time gliding his hands slowly across your body He needs to make sure you’re properly clean can’t have his dollie get all dirty now, can he? Pins you to the wall, steam all around you both as he fucks you in the tour bus shower. Makes sure the others hear you screaming his name. Gets you all dirty and now has to take his sweet time cleaning you again only to get you all dirty immediately after.

Price having you cockwarm him after the show because he gets just so tierd D: and he just needs his little dollie close to him. Has you sit there for hours, chest to chest resting his head on your shoulder muttering sweet nothings into your ear .loves when you pepper kisses all across his face

Ghost getting all riled up and full of energy after the show and he needs to exhaust himself or he won't be able to sleep :( so he fucks you in his bunk while the others are asleep not caring about all the noise he’s making (not that the others mind the view)

send an ask

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natsbaby · 3 years

Text

My Favorite Part [18+]

Pairing: Scarlett Johansson x Interviewer!Reader

Summary: You’re interviewing Scarlett in a press junket for an upcoming movie, only to be caught in a very gay moment

Warnings: very suggestive with sexual themes so please read if you’re 18 and above!!! You’re responsible for what you read online 💖

Word Count: ~800? Tbh i didn’t check HAHAHA

A/N: there’s this interview i think where she talks about her favorite body part being her lips and i think this is a very important piece of information HAHAHA this is unedited so sorry for any mistakes but i hope you enjoy!!

“Okay Y/N, you got everything?”

“Yes I know, read the question cards and make sure I don’t say anything stupid or that would embarrass the actor” you say in a bore tone to your friend as you go flip through his question cards without reading.

You’ve been working with a small company who does interviews such as press junkies and red carpet interviews. Your friend, Jake, found out that one of the actors in the film is his all time favorite and asked you to step in for him. He didn’t tell you who it is though, all you know is that she’s a she and she’s pretty. You don’t know ANYTHING about the film which is the reason why you’re not interested until he said she’s pretty.

He chuckles as he pinches your cheek playfully “have I ever told you that you’re like a baby sister to me and that I love you?”

“Only when you wanna meet your favorite celebrity” you say in a teasing tone, chuckling as he laughs.

“You’ll so great! See it’s your turn already” he says as he hears your name being called. “Good luck!”

You sigh as you walk through the door and sit down as the tech people do their tech checks and adjustments. A makeup stylist comes to you to touch up on your makeup as you read the questions for the first time. Before you got to finish the last 3 cards, you hear the door open. You look up as you push your glasses up higher, stopping halfway as your eyes widen.

Scarlett comes in wearing a light blue top with denim jeans and heels, decked out on jewelry with all her piercings. You feel your heart skip a beat at her relaxed yet professional looking outfit. You blink as she walks towards you, sitting on the chair provided in front of you. You blink again and shake your head to pull yourself together.

“Hi! I’m Y/N and ill be your interviewer for today” you start with a smile, offering your hand for a shake. She greets you back with a smile, taking your hand for a shake.

Your warm hand cools down with her cold hand, blushing a little at the contact. You clear your throat as you fix yourself on your seat, the camera letting you know you could start. You go through the interview without much problems until you’ve reached the last part of the interview which is a speed round.

“Alright Scarlett! As part of the show’s tradition, we always end every interview with a speed round so just pick between this or what! You ready?” You smile at her and she gives you a grin as if she’s ready to enter battle. You chuckle as you look down at the cards. You were about to say the first one until you actually read it for the first time, making your jaw drop. You quickly flip through to see a pattern and you sigh, realizing it all has a common theme. Sex. You internally pray to God, hoping not to die early from this experience before saying fuck it and start.

“Top or bottom?” Scarlett looks at you in shock before chuckling. “I see, so that’s what you guys wanna hear” she teases you with a mischievous glint in her eyes, causing you to blush.

“Not my cards, but the audience needs to know Scarlett” you start as you lean forward a bit, looking down from her lips and slowly meeting her eyes. “Unless you’re scared?”

She gasps at the accusation making the people behind the camera laugh. “Oh you’re on, top”

You smirk slightly to yourself now knowing Scarlett’s a top, flipping to the next card.

“Lights on or lights off?”

“Lights off”

“Sex or chocolate?”

“What can I say? I like something sweet and indulgent” she smirks as you choke on your own spit a little, making you laugh in response

“Touché. Younger or older?

“Younger but to a limit” her eyes twinkle in mischief as you look at her for a few seconds before blushing a little. “Hopefully that limit means legal right?”

She laughs out loud at your side comment, making you grin in response. “Lap dance or strip tease?”

“I’m a woman of taste so of course i’d never say no to a lap dance”

“Private or public?”

“Private of course” she starts as she laughs “but, I would never say no to a public appearance” she smirks, leaning back to her seat while crossing her arms over her chest and her legs as the people behind the camera say “ohhhhhh”

“we do mean either staying at home or going out right?” She teases and gasps “you dirty dirty people!” Everyone in the room laughs, loving the atmosphere you and Scarlett managed to create together. You chuckle as you go through the last set of questions. “Lets do something innocent for once”

“Dunkin or Starbucks?”

“Starbucks because I’m classy”

“Wings or ribs?”

“Hmm wings, you can never go wrong with those”

“Favorite part of your body?”

“I gotta say my lips” you gasp as Scarlett grins, licking her lips in a sensual manner making you blush furiously. You’re about to say the last one, which you admit you’re the most curious with, until you hear the camera man saying you have to wrap up as your time limit is almost over. Your shoulders slump a little at the thought of ending this fun experience, but you bring back your professional facade as you wrap everything up.

“It seems like we gotta cut this a little short, but thank you so much Scarlett for the fun! Any last words about your movie before we go?”

You see Scarlett’s face fall a little before quickly bringing back her professional mask as she does her normal spiel on the movie. The camera man yells cut as you both stand up to shake your hands one last time, Scarlett pulling your hand down to bring you in closer to her. She leans into you, bring her mouth close to your ear and your heart starts to beat really fast as you feel her warm breathe against your ear.

“Come baby, my hotel room number is 1265A, meet me there at 5 pm. Gonna show you what these lips can do”

#scarlett johansson x reader #scarlett johansson #scarlett johansson imagines #celebrity oneshots #gosh i love her

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thealtoduck · 3 years

Text

Being from District 1 and being in the 75th Hunger Games with Finnick…

Finnick Odair x Male reader

Warnings: It’s the goddamn hunger games so people dying and lots of violence, talk about two people hooking up.

(A/N: This is based on the movie because i didn’t feel like re-reading the book before writing this)

Growing up in District 1 had it’s advantages because unlike most districts yours has a good relationship with the capital and you are illegally trained for the hunger games so you get an advantage.

…buuuut there is a disadvantage, you are taught the games are just that GAMES and ignore the parts where you might end up traumatised or worse dead.

And that is how you ended up in the games, you volunteered but mostly because you were taught that the games are a good thing and because your parents pressured you into it.

However you ended up winning but not without some mental scars.

You took your winnings and moved into the victors village but without your parents not ever wanting to speak to them again.

You lived peacefully for a while until you didn’t because the capitol decided that for the third quarter quell the tributes would be reaped from the victors of each district.

When you saw that you may or may not have had a nervous brakedown.

Then came the day of the reaping, you told yourself that you were not likely to be picked since District 1 had several other Male victors.

”As for the male tribute… Y/N L/N”

But then you were picked anyway… *cries*

So alongside Cashmere you headed for the Capitol in one of their fancy trains.

You had been allowed to chose your mentors, Cashmere had chosen her brother Gloss. You had picked Augustus Braun, Panem’s favorite son, (he was a character created for promo photos for the movies, the guy who ”plays” him is really hot). He had been your mentor during the year you won so he knew how to work with you and plus he is nice :).

When you arrived at the trainstation there were a huge crowd waiting for you. Augustus advised you to try to appear sad but still wave to the capitol citizens and treat them kindly so they might sympathize with the fact that your back in the games.

You met up with your prep team and they made you strip naked so that they could look you over and make you look presentable.

After they finished they got you into your outfit for the tribute parade.

(A/N: Your outfit is whatever the male version of this would look like)

You were walking towards the chariots for the parade when you heard a catcall whistle and you knew immediately who it was.

You turned around and were met with a almost naked Finnick Odair a familiar sight as you had hooked up the year before while being mentors for the tributes.

”Hello Finnick” you said in a voice implying that you were not in the mood for his flirting.

He caught the hint and the two of you had a normal conversation. You asked how Annie and Mags were doing as you were rather fond of both of them.

He said they were doing fine considering the cicumstances. The two of you talked for a while but eventually Finnick went to try to make Katniss Everdeen uncomfortable for fun.

You climbed in to the chariot and helped Cashmere get up as she was wearing 8 inch stilettos.

After the tribute parade you are escorted to the training center with the rest of your group.

The next day training began, you went directly for the throwing knives which was your preferred weapon.

Then you were approached by Peeta Mellark, last years winner, he asked you to show him how to throw knives. You agreed to show him and you gave him some tips and tricks that you used. He then showed you how to do some simple camouflage.

You liked Peeta he was the kind of person that was hard not to like, unlike his district partner.

You and Cashmere invited Katniss to the place where they showed you how to make hammocks and it was noticable that she was a bit suspicious to be talking to career tributes.

The training days passed by and you did well on your private session but now it was time for the interviews.

When you got out on the stage you threw your arms around Caesar Flickerman as if he was your lover, which in turn got you a ”Awww” from the audience.

You turned on the waterworks, you talked about how much you will miss the capitol citizens for treating you like family and that you regret not reconciling with your parents after a fight you had before you left and not getting to say goodbye to them. It was all lies though but it was enough to fool the audience.

The audience gave you a standing ovation while you joined Cashmere standing in a line above the stage.

The rest of the tributes gave their interviews (Johanna’s was your favorite) and then Peeta during his interview told Caesar that Katniss was pregnant and all hell broke lose.

That evening you were visited by Haymitch and he told you that Peeta had wanted you as an ally and about the rebellion and about their plan to get Katniss out of the arena.

You agreed to the plan.

Before you went in to the arena you said goodbye to your escort, prep team, stylist, Gloss and Augustus.

You also said goodbye Cashmere since you knew you were on different sides in the arena and you said a silent prayer that you wouldn’t have to be the one to kill her.

You were then taken aboard the hovercraft and flown to the arena. You were then escorted to the small elevator thing that takes you the podiums in the arena.

You stood in the elevator waiting anxiously for the game to start. You also realised that you didn’t know who your other allies would be other than Katniss and Peeta.

The podium then started rising until you were inside the arena. Your eyes were blinded by the sunlight and you looked around and saw that the podioum was surrounded by water.

You saw that there were rocky spokes connected to the island where the cornucopia was located.

Then you heard a voice saying ”Let the 75th Hunger Games begin, May the odds be ever in your favor” a voice started counting down from 10 and you prepared yourself to dive in.

A canon went of as the starting signal for the games and you dove right in to the water and swam to one of the rocky spokes and climbed up on it.

You saw someone else had climbed up on it behind you but didn’t care to find out who so you tried to run but they had roughly grabbed a hold of your arm and were trying to drag you back.

You turned around and saw the male tribute from district 9. Without thinking further about it you clenched your fist and punched him in the nose. He let go of you and you started running towards the cornucopia.

You looked around and realised that you were now at a disadvantage from only being held back for a few seconds.

You reached the cornucopia and tried to sneak around it to see who was there but Finnick suddenly appeared around the corner and pointed his trident at you for a second but brought it down as soon as you made eye contact.

”Come on” he said and led you to the weapons. You picked up vest with a bunch of throwing knives attached to it and put it on.

You had put it on just in time as the man from 9 had reached the cornucopia as well. His nose was bleeding from your punch. You got a knife from the vest took aim and threw a knife at his throat, you hit just as intended.

You got an extra leg holster with throwing knives and a regular knife incase needed for close combat.

Finnick told you to stay by the supplies to guard them with Katniss while he looks for Peeta. You nodded at him as he ran off.

Katniss and you stood guard for a while until Finnick returned saying Mags had found him. You and Katniss followed him as he led you out on one of the spokes leading out from the cornucopia.

You saw movement in the water as Peeta was wrestling with a tribute trying to drown him. Finnick dived in to help Peeta, you turned to the cornucopia to check so no one would sneak up behind you.

Soon enough Peeta and Finnick were out of the water and the 5 of you made your way in to the jungle.

You all ran through the difficult jungle terrain except Mags who was carried on Finnick’s back.

After getting far enough from the cornucopia you all kneeled down for a quick rest. You heard more canons going off meaning more people had died.

”I guess were not holding hands anymore” Finnick said with a quick laugh. ”You think that’s funny?” Katniss asked with obvious hostility in her voice. You made quick eye contact with Peeta basically saying ”Fuck, they are going to be fighting”.

”Every time that canon goes of it’s music to my ears, i don’t care about any of them” Finnick answered. ”Good to hear” Katniss said pulling out a machete from her quiver. ”Wanna face the career pack alone? What would Haymitch say?” Finnick asked teasingly.

”Haymitch isn’t here” Katniss stated and there was silence for a moment until Peeta said ”Let’s keep moving” and you all got up and continued moving through the jungle.

Peeta walked in front using the machete to cut plants and vines out of the way, Finnick was behind him carrying Mags, you were behind Finnick and Katniss was behind you.

You noticed Katniss stopping behind you as you turned to see if anything was wrong she yelled ”Peeta! NO!” and right behind you there was a bang and you were knocked to the ground by Peeta flying backwards.

You sat up and saw Katniss crawling over to Peeta repeating his name slowly as he lay motionless on the ground. You then heard her say in a panicy voice ”He’s not breathing”, Finnick ran over to him and started doing mouth to mouth resuscitation. You crawled over to see what was happening.

After a while he woke up again and you all started to move slowly but Katniss was now in the lead, she threw small rocks at the barrier so that you could navigate how close you were to it.

Katniss told the 4 of you to wait while she climbed up a tree to see your location and if she could find fresh water. When she got down she told you that you were on the edge of the arena and that she couldn’t find any water.

Finnick suggested that you should set up camp and sleep, he said he could take first watch to guard the others to which Katniss disagreed which in turn made Finnick upset since he literally saved Peeta.

Honestly you were tired of both of them so you rolled your eyes and walked away to find somewhere decent to sleep.

You found a spot close to Mags where you laid down and shut your eyes but that didn’t last long as you heard the anthem playing and you looked up and saw the faces of the fallen tributes.

When you saw the face of the man from district 9 you felt ashamed. You wondered if he had a lover or children at home who had to watch him bleed to death from a knife to the throat.

You turned around so you lay on your other side and your y/c/e met with Mags kind eyes and she gave you a small smile as if she had read you mind which you returned shyly.

(A/N: I had to stop a second just for some Mags appreciation because she’s one of my favorite characters in the hunger games universe.)

You closed your eyes again trying to sleep but you then heard something hit the ground you sat up and looked to Katniss and Finnick who had gone to inspect the noise.

It turned out to be a sponsor gift, you stood up and walked over to them. Katniss held a small silvery thing. ”What is it?” Finnick asked. ”It’s from Haymitch…… I think it’s a spile” Katniss answered.

”A what?” Both you and Finnick asked as Katniss stood up and found a tree and started banging on the spile with a rock hitting it in to the tree.

You all waited for a moment but soon water started trickling down from the spile. Katniss caught some in her mouth and told the others to get some, first Peeta got some, then Finnick and the you.

You were on you knees infront of the spile, you got a mouthful of water. Finnick walked up beside you with a small smile and said ”As much as i like seeing you on your knees, can you move over a little? I need some more water for Mags”. You laughed a little and moved aside.

”Seems like someone has gotten his wittiness back” you said and Finnick gave a small laugh and started filling a leaf he had shaped like a bowl for Mags.

After that you went to your previous resting place and laid down to sleep again. You were woken up at some point by what sounded like a gong and the sound of lightning but you managed to get back to sleep.

You were woken up by the sound of Katniss screaming, you quickly got up and pulled out your close combat knife. You saw no one but Katniss, she was laying on the ground whimpering and there was a closing in behind her.

”Run! Run! The fog is poisonus” she yelled you helped Mags get up as Finnick crouched down to get her up on his back. When she was safely up you started running following Katniss and Peeta.

You passed Katniss and Peeta as being quick was sort of your specialty.

It was hard to know where to go as almost everywhere you turned the fog seemed to be coming closer. You heard falling behind you and saw that Katniss had fallen over but Peeta had helped her up. Then a little bit after that Peeta fell over and Katniss helped him up, you turned around to come to their aid but you heard Finnick screaming and saw him falling over.

You ran to Finnick to help him get up but by the time you got there he was already up and he had gotten Mags back up on his back. You grabbed him by the arm and helped him away from the fog. You and Finnick saw that Peeta had fallen over once again from exposure to the fog.

You and Finnick ran to him and Katniss. ”I can’t carry him, Peeta please” she said with tear stained eyes. You tried to help carry Peeta but it was no use you weren’t strong enough.

Behind you heard Finnick saying ”Mags? Mags?” You turned around and saw Mags walking right into the fog (like the boss she is).

(R.I.P Queen, both the actress and character)

”MAGS!” Finnick screamed and the came the sound of canon. You grabbed Finnick by the arm and Katniss told him that we need to leave.

Finnick helped pick up Peeta as you picked up Peeta’s machete and started cutting away plants that were in the way. The others staggerd away from the fog, you ran to Katniss side to try help her keep up.

You feel the fog touching you back as immense pain shoot through you whole body and then the 4 of you fell… not because the fog though but because there was a huge drop that you hadn’t noticed.

When you land you just lay on the ground twitching and flinching from the pain.

After a while you hear Katniss saying ”The water, the water helps”. You tried to get up but you body was like on lockdown. You hear them helping Finnick into the water, Finnick tries to let out a scream but gets water in his mouth.

Peeta comes to you and drags you up into a sitting positon saying ”Come on” as if he’s talking to a child but it was strangely comforting. He then pulls you into the pond making you let out a scream from a sudden sharp pain but the pain slowly starts to fade away.

The group takes a little brake now to rest and you can’t help but to whisper a little ”thank you” to Mags.

You then hear Katniss saying to Finnick ”I’m sorry about Mags”. Finnick answered by saying ”She was never gonna make it….so”.

Finnick then turned his attention to something behind Katniss, you turned around and saw some sort of monkey like creature staring at you, whatever they were they didn’t look friendly so you pulled out your combat knife in one hand and a throwing one in the other.

All 4 of you stood in the little pond surrounded by the mutts, you were all waiting for one to attack. ”Get to the beach” Katniss said and turned towards a path that lead towards the cornucopia but the mutts started looking more aggressive.

One tried to jump at Katniss but was cut down by Peeta which made more start to attack.

You weren’t really that well equipped to deal with animals but you tried your best. A mutt tried to jump at you but you kicked it in the face and threw a knife at it.

Another one ran towards you so threw a knife at it’s arm making it shriek in pain and you ran over and stabbed it with the combat knife.

”We need to get to the beach” Peeta said as he and Katniss started moving in the beaches directon, you started following him and Katniss and made sure Finnick was keeping up.

You made you way through the difficult terrain while trying to avoid the mutts. You did your best to hit then with your knives but the didn’t pack enough of a punch to kill them unless they were hit in sensitive areas.

You were tackled by a mutt which made you fall to the ground. It crawled onto you about to maul your face off but you stabbed it in the stomach and twisted the knife.

You threw it’s dead body off of you and got up, you saw Katniss and Peeta carrying someones body to the beach, you turned your head back and saw Finnick fending of the mutts. Your mind raced for a second if Finnick is there and Peeta and Katniss are fine the who’s body was that.

You ran over to Finnick who was slowly making his way to the beach backwards with the mutts following him, only held back by his trident. You stood by his side swinging your blade at any mutt that comes to near you two.

Finnick then whispered to you ”At my signal grab my hand”, you nodded.

”Now” he said and you grabbed his hand and the two of you started sprinting towards the beach while the mutts chased yoy, when you got near enough you and Finnick dove on to the beach sand.

You and Finnick quickly got up and pointed your weapons at the mutts that where now on the edge of the jungle where the beach began. You then heard a canon going off and the mutts then started making their way into the jungle once more.

You put you knife in the holster at your leg and then turned to Finnick. You threw your arms around him in a hug, Finnick put his big arms around and you leaned you head against the older males shoulder.

It was hard putting a label on yours and Finnick’s relationship. You had met during part of your victory tour in district 4, you were attending a dinner in your honor.

You had excused yourself to go to the public bathroom during the dinner. You had no need to actually use the bathroom. You just needed to get away from the people who had celebrated the fact that you had killed people.

You started having a bit of a nervous breakdown in the bathroom, you were crying, splashing water in your face trying to calm down but you felt like you needed to scream.

One of the toilet stalls had opened and Finnick steped out. He went to the sink to wash his hands and while doing so he noticed your red eyes and trembling hands and he asked if you were okay.

And you spilled everything to him and told him how you were feeling, he put an arm around you, he told you he somtimes felt like that as well and told you how he usually copes with it.

He had told you that if you didn’t want to finish the dinner he could go out and tell everyone you weren’t feeling well and have you escorted back to the train.

But you said you wanted to try to get through the dinner as long as he was there to help you. He agreed to be there with you and you managed to get through the whole thing.

After that Finnick was basically your bestie and you guys would come to each other for emotional support.

And last year during the 74th hunger games while you both were in the capitol, you had been hanging out at his apartment the capitol give the victors while they visit for the games.

While hanging out things got a bit steamy between the two of you and you ended up hooking up, the day after the two of you kinda acted like it never happened and things got a bit awkward between you and him.

But being back in to the arena had stirred up feelings for him you had buried. While in the arena most people will latch onto whatever makes them feel safe and Finnick made you feel safe.

You finally let go of Finnick and you noticed a hover craft picking up the body Peeta and Katniss had taken in to the water. Finnick told you he was gonna go try to catch some fish food, you nodded at this and walked over to Katniss and Peeta.

”Who body was it they picked up?” you asked. ”The female morphling” Peeta answered in a saddend voice. You sat down in the sand, the 4 of you had almost died 3 times (+ 1 for Peeta) in less than 24 hours and it was exhausting.

Finnick had managed to catch a fish and found some oysters that you were now eating. Peeta found a pearl and gave it to Katniss.

You then heard a scream coming from the jungle, ”That’s new” Peeta said and you heard a thundering noise.

Out of the jungle came a huge wave of water and you heard a canon going off. The wave was so big it washed up on the beach.

You then saw a hover craft lifting away the body.

After it had flown away you heard Katniss say ”Someone is hear”. You immediately looked in the direction Katniss had been looking and saw another tribute on the beach and two other tributes emerging from the jungle, you backed up slowly.

”Johanna?” Finnick whispered and ran out of hiding towards Johanna shouting her name, ”Finnick!” she yelled back and the two embraced each other. You made your way towards them and waved Johanna.

Johanna told the 4 of you how she, Wiress, Beetee and Blight, her district partner, had been wandering the jungle when it had started raining blood on them to the point where they could barely see and were choking on it. Then blight had hit the forcefield and passed away.

Wiress was stumbling around murmering the words ”Tick-tock” to herself, Wiress tried to get Johanna’s attention but she ignored her.

”What’s wrong with her?” Katniss asked referring to Wiress. ”She’s in shock, dehydration isn’t helping” Beetee answered and the asked ”You have fresh water?”

”We can get some” Katniss answered as Johanna had started getting fed up with Wiress saying ”Tick-Tock” to her. ”Listen stop it!” Johanna said loudly while grabbing a hold of Wiress.

”Hey! Get of her” Katniss yelled as Wiress fell to the ground. Katniss stromed passed you and started fighting with Johanna. ”Hey!, what are you doing” Johanna asked as Katniss got up in her face but before things could escalate Peeta and Finnick had pulled them apart.

You got the spile and hit it in to a tree so that the others could get freshwater. You took a big leaf and shaped it like a bowl and got some water for Beetee who was working with some sort of wire. Katniss and Wiress then came excitedly and said that the arena was a clock with different obstacles every hour.

You all decided to go to the cornucopia to stock up on weapons, you had decided to get something more lethal than just knives just in case something comes up.

Katniss was trying to go through what happens during every hour that we know off. When you arrived at the Cornucopia you refilled your knife supply and picked up a nice sword. The others were drawing up a map of the zones and the drew the threats we knew about tsunami, lightning, blood rain, fog and mutts.

Then came a loud gasp from Wiress who was being stabbed in the back by the male tribute from district 10 (you know since your here instaed of Gloss). Katniss was quick to shoot an arrow hitting him right in the chest killing him almost instantly.

Another figure had appeared it was Cashmere she had a knife in her hand. She was on her way to attack Katniss but Johanna pushed her out of the way and plunged her axe right in Cashmere’s chest.

Right as she hit the ground there came clang of metal against metal and you saw Brutus attacking Finnick and Peeta. Enobaria then suddenly appears and throws a knife at Finnick cutting his arm. You quickly draw a knife throwing at Enobaria cutting her shoulder.

Enobaria and Brutus start running away from the cornucopia. You, Katniss and Johanna run to follow them but as you do the island the cornucopia is located on starts spining and you all fall to the ground.

You take out a knife in one hand and stab it in to the ground to try to keep you from sliding of the island, you manage to get a good grip with your hand as well.

You hear struggling behind you and see Johanna struggling to keep a hold of Katniss’ hand, she lost her grip and Katniss fell into the raging water.

The island then stopped spining and Katniss climbed up on one of the spokes and started coughing up water. Johanna and Peeta checked that she was okay.

She was fine and your group left the island and went back to the beach, you all sat down on the beach to stratergize. Other than the group there was 3 people left in the games Chaff, Brutus and Enobaria.

They were all outnumbred so they probably won’t try to attack us. Johanna suggested that we hunt them down but then you heard a scream ”Ahhh!!! Katniss,Help me!!!” which made Katniss scream in return ”Prim!!! Prim!!!” as she ran into the jungle.

You all ran to follow her Finnick was in front you were right behind him but then you hit something almost like when you run in to a glass door, it was an invisible forcefield. ”Y/n!Are you okay?” You heard Peeta saying as you sat up.

”Yeah” you said as he helped you up. You tried to touch the forcefield, it was as solid as a brick wall. Soon Katniss and Finnick came running back with a bunch of birds following them but they couldn’t get through the forcefield and were stuck on the other side.

You had to wait an hour until the birds flow away and the forcefield disappeared. You ran over to Finnick to check on him. ”Are you okay? You asked putting a hand on his shoulder. ”Yeah, i’m fine” he said weakly.

You the heard Johanna say something about ”Riots in the damn capitol” she then yelled ”Hey! How does that sound Snow! What if we.. What if we set your backyard on fire?! You know you can’t put everybody in here!!!”. You were all looking at Johanna speechless at her open disrespect of President Snow.

”What?… they can’t hurt me, there’s no one left that i love” Johanna said and walked away to get Katniss some water. That left you feeling bad for Johanna, sure she may be a bit rude at times but she’s nowhere near as bad as some people make her out to be.

You helped Finnick stand up and your group made their way back to the beach once more. Finnick went and sat down in the shallow part of the water. You were torn whether you should go to him or not, maybe he wanted to be alone.

But then you remembered how he had been there for you during your victory tour, so you went out into the water and sat down beside him. ”Did you hear her?” You asked referring to Annie.

Finnick gave you a small nod. You didn’t know what more to say, but you didn’t need to cause Finnick started speaking ”I also heard you”. You gave him a questioning look ”Really?”

”Yeah, even though in knew you were there right infront of me, it was still torture to have to hear you screaming my name for help, I had to open my eyes just to check that you were okay” Finnick said turning his attention from the water to you. You grabbed his hand gently and said ”I’m okay, thanks to you”. You and Finnick’s heads were leaning close to eachother but then came a shout ”Finnick!” ”Y/n” it was Johanna she waved for you to come over.

You and Finnick got up and walked over to the others and the group made a plan to use the wire Beetee had gotten to hopefully electrecute the careers.

A few hours went by and the sun started to go down. You were sitting in the wet sand watching Finnick swinging around his trident lightly. Then you heard the noise of something hitting the ground near you, you turned around.

A little bit inside the jungle you saw a silver capsule, you went into the junge and got it. You opened it and knew immediately what it was. You turned to the others and yelled at them to come over. You showed them that you had gotten bread from district 1.

You gave everyone their fair share of the bread, ”District 1 is known for using cinnamon and huckleberries in their bread” you informed them though the only one who actually seemed to care what your district used in their bread was Peeta.

Then it was time to leave to go to the lightning tree and once again you were making your way through the thick jungle terrain.

Then you heard the anthem playing and you looked up in the sky to see the pictures of the fallen tributes. You felt a bit sad when you saw Cashmere up there and realised even if you got out of the arena Gloss would kill you.

But it felt worse seeing Wiress and Mags up there. They had both been very kind people and they shouldn’t have been in here in the first place. You felt something inside you almost as if it was catching fire (A/N:😉) a new hatred for the capitol.

You continued moving until you reached the lightning tree and Beetee started doing his thing and wrapping the tree with the bronze colored wire. He then told you, Katniss and Johanna to go with the spool of wire to the beach, throw it into the water and go to the tree in the 2 o’clock sector.

”I’m gonna go with them as a guard” Peeta said probably not wanting to leave Katniss. ”Nonono, your staying here to protect me… and the tree”. Beetee opposed. ”No i need to go with her” Peeta said stubbornly.

”There are two careers out there, i need two guards” Beetee said. ”Finnick can protect just fine on his own” Peeta said and you and Finnick gave eachother a knowing look. Then Katniss butted in saying ”Yeah, why can’t Finnick, Y/n and Johanna stay with you and Peet and I will take the chord”.

”You all agreed to keep me alive till midnight, correct?” Beetee asked in a annoyed tone. ”It’s his plan we all agreed to it” Johanna said clearly starting to get annoyed as well. ”Is there a problem here?” Finnick asked. ”Excellent question” Beetee said as you were all staring down Peeta and Katniss.

”No, there’s no problem” Katniss said in a defeated manner and walked over to Peeta and gave him a kiss. After they finished you said ”Good idea” and walked over to Finnick and kissed him, you could feel him kiss back and put his arms around your waist.

After you pulled away you said with a weak smile ”You know just incase we never see eachother again”. ”Alright, let’s go” Johanna said. You walked over to her and put an arm around her shoulder saying jokingly ”Incase your feeling left out i can give you a quick kiss too”, Johanna only rolled her eyes but let out a small chuckle.

You, Johanna and Katniss made your way to the beach once more the same way you came. After a while of walking Johanna said ”Come on, i wanna put as much distance between me and this beach as possible, frying is not how i wanna go” but then came another sound from the spool it had stopped putting out wire.

”There’s something…” Katniss said and looked in the direction the wire came from but saw nothing then something pulled the wire and cut it off. Katniss immediately threw aside the spool and pulled out an arrow but Johanna grabbed the spool and hit her over the head with it.

You were kinda lost on what to do but Johanna got you to kneel down beside her and took your combat knife and started cutting up Katniss’ arm open, then it dawned on you the arm with the tracker, the plan to get Katniss out was set into motion.

You grabbed Katniss arm so that she wouldn’t try to fight it, Johanna smeared blood on Katniss’ throat to make her look like she was dying. ”Stay down” she whispered to Katniss and sat up and threw her axe against Brutus and Enobaria who were on their way. ”Come on” Johanna said to you and you followed her as you ran with careers chasing you.

It was hard to keep up with Johanna in this terrain. You then felt a sudden sharp pain in your side and saw that you had gotten a cut that was now bleeding, you guessed that Enobaria must have thrown a knife. You looked up to see where Johanna had gone but she must not have noticed you slowing down because you couldn’t see her.

You turned around and saw that only Enobaria was on your trail now. You drew your sword just in time to deflect another knife coming your way, she drew her sword as well.

The sound of clashing swords came as she made a slash at you which you blocked. You went back and forward with her for a while slashing, stabbing, cutting but neither managed to kill the other.

Enobaria then made stab at your hand cutting it open so that blood started spilling out, you tried to fight with one hand but she easily disarmed you. You turned around and started running since there wasn’t much else you could do.

You managed to put some fair distance between you and her, not enough to get rid of her but enough so you could draw a knife and throw it at the hand she kept her sword in which caused her to drop it but that didn’t stop her as she drew a knife from her vest.

You did the same bracing yourself for her. The two of you pounced at eachother like tigers, colliding in the air and laying on the ground wrestling for dominance, she had gotten on top of you and tried to stab you but you grabbed the hand she kept her knife in and used your other hand to grab her hair.

You pulled it with all your strength and managed to roll over so that you were on top of her, you held her down and punched her across the face. She still managed to grab you and roll you over so she was on top of you again and she the showed you her fang like teeth.

She was starting to lean down probably about to rip your throat out with her bare teeth but something had distracted her, you seized your moment and noticed you were right beside a steep slope. So with all the power in your body you grabbed a hold of her and threw her off of you and down the slope.

You got up quickly and looked at what had distracted her and saw that it was a blue glowing wire pointing right up into the sky or what used to be the sky but was now just a gray dome.

Your brain put some kind of scenario together that this was part of the plan so you started making you way towards the source of the glowing wire but it was hard you were still bleeding and you were exhausted from your fight with Enobaria.

You staggerd towards the lightning tree but your body couldn’t take anymore and you collapsed, you looked up at the gray dome and saw that it was starting to fall apart. That made you smile and you thought to yourself ”Thank you, Mockingjay” and then it faded to black.

(A/N: Don’t worry you didn’t die at the end, but please give this a like or reblog it took like a lot of time write and i really tried my best, there might be some grammatical errors in there but deal with it)

#finnick odair x male reader #finnick odair x male!reader #the hunger games x male reader #the huger games x male!reader #finnick odair #x male reader #x male!reader #x male reader smut #the hunger games #male reader #male!reader

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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years

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“Harry’s stylist, right?”

Summary: Harry and his personal stylist are great collaborators, on screen and off. She helps his visions come to life and in turn they’ve become close friends. As she helps him to bring his fashion dreams come to life during the Fine Line era, will some other dreams come to life as well?

Harry and his stylist go from colleagues to friends to lovers because they’ve been in love with each other from the jump

this fit is very important to this part lmaooo - I literally have no idea what to call this lol, anyway I've been sitting on this for forever and I wanted to get something out for yall and i love this story there will be a part 2 when i get to a writing mood. I love this story bc its my literal dream - anyway!! pls enjoy and reblog and lmk what you think :)

Word Count: 14k | Warnings: swearing, drinking, tame for now, should be smut eventually - aka slow burn (what else would you expect from me at this point i guess)

part 2

“Hey, H, I just had a question about one of the SNL outfits? Do you have a sec?”

Harry looked up from his phone and raised his brows at his stylist, Y/N.

Y/N had worked with Harry previously. In photoshoots for Another Man magazine and his most recent Gucci campaign. As well as some other random times, such as one-off award show looks and specific appearances. However, this past summer Harry had hired Y/N to work fulltime for him, exclusively. He had told her that he was planning on releasing his second album in the winter and he wanted someone there to help him plan his clothes for music videos, award season, interview appearances, as well as tour outfits.

Y/N stood just inside the doorway of the room, leaning her back against the wall, looking expectantly at him. Her eyes were wide and her lips were pursed. She was dressed simply in a white satin skirt and a matching cropped button-up, they both had cream flowers embroidered on, paired with horsebit slim Gucci mules. Her style was eclectic, but she had definitely noticed an increase of Gucci in her wardrobe since starting her employment with Harry.

Y/N’s passion in life was fashion and clothes and she constantly worried that one of Harry’s outfits wouldn’t deliver as much as she wanted it to. He was quick to tell her not to worry so much though, as long as they both were happy with it, how could anyone else not love it. Plus, he’d always add, it didn’t really matter what anyone else thought. But as more and more events began to crop up, Y/N’s worry over her work grew. She had only been the head stylist for Harry on projects that were still underwraps - except for Lights Up which had been released a couple weeks ago now.

The first project she ever worked on with Harry as his full-time personal stylist was the Lights Up music video. She had never worked so closely with one person for so long on just one project. Harry was insistent in vision and came in the first day filled with ideas, what he imagined for the video's concept and how he wanted to incorporate clothes. She had been happy to make his dreams become reality.

The two of them spent hours at his house for weeks, pouring over every detail of every outfit he planned to wear. They both wanted it to be perfect. And eventually, it all came together, exactly how they had planned. All of the garments for the video took up two entire garment racks. Y/N had made Harry pose in every single outfit for polaroids that she dated and then put into a lookbook she started for him. She had told him she planned to document every outfit she styled for him and Harry had been so excited. The outfits he wore in the video were received with praise when it was finally released, and Harry and Y/N were overjoyed. There was already a party for its release, but they both were especially happy that night. Throughout the evening, Harry and Y/N would gravitate to one another and fall into side conversations about the outfits and what people had been saying. Even if Harry said it didn’t matter, he and Y/N both knew, at the end of the day, they loved when people were happy with their work.

“Sure,” he bounced to his feet, but Y/N made a hand motion telling him that he could stay seated. He settled back down as she crossed over and sat beside him on his couch.

She was at his house in London today planning his next few appearances that were promotion for the upcoming album, Saturday Night Live was next. Harry had been taking a break from their work until she had come in.

It wasn’t unusual for Y/N to be at his house, they had been working together for months now. First, it had been for his outfits in his music videos that were filmed in late summer and early fall, like Lights up, but also a few other ones. Now, it was clothing for promo appearances, interviews, and listening parties. Next, it would be tour outfits, which she had already started planning, but officially, they hadn’t started discussions yet. Harry had helped her to get a flat closer to his house in London just for her to be able to head over and help with the planning or fitting of his outfits more easily. She also was constantly traveling with him to his appearances, making sure outfits were perfect right before whatever show it was or making last minute adjustments in case either of them decided something wasn’t right.

While Harry was a big guy, his waist was far trimmer than a usual man built to his size, this meant she had to take in a lot of his trousers at the waist. As well, with his shirts and coats, she’d have to take them in or out depending on how Harry wanted the fit to be - either perfectly tight or perfectly oversized. He was particular, but she appreciated his drive for fashion and how he cared for his appearance. Before performances, she often had to take things in or out based on any body fluctuation that had occurred since the initial fitting.

She was looking at her sketchpad that held all of her notes on his clothes - which was different from the lookbook of polaroids - including patches of the actual colors and little Harry figures dressed in what he was going to wear. Right now, she had the pad opened to a page titled “SNL Opener - November 16, 2019”.

“So I was thinking with your opening monologue outfit, it might look better to have a different colored blazer? A matching yellow would be great, but if you did more of a toned down - maybe light tan or beige - blazer with gold embellishments, you’d elevate it to look sophisticated and stylish, rather than just stylish. It’d be exactly like the runway look - which I know you sometimes don’t like, but I think it’s what looks best.”

She ran her finger between two swatches of what she thought would be the better blazer color and the one Harry had originally wanted. He wet his lips and gazed at the page as he thought about what she said. Normally, she liked monochrome on him, but she thought the deep blue underneath a completely yellow suit might wash him out on the stage.

“Yeah,” he pointed to the top beige swatch, “I think I do like this better.” He paused and turned his head to Y/N, looking in her eyes before asking, “Is that all?”

“Er...no,” Y/N ran a hand over her unstyled hair, slightly fluffed by her constant musing of it. She often fiddled with it while she worked, better than biting nails she always said when confronted about her tick. After a sigh Y/N continued, “I was just on the phone with Jane from Gucci and she said that for Look 57 they could only send your technical size, for some reason they can’t custom make it. Meaning, I’ll have to tailor the whole thing to you when it arrives. Is that alright? Or do you want to choose something else?”

She flipped to a page that said “SNL WS.” Harry followed her hands and nodded realizing she was talking about the Gucci suit he wanted to wear for Watermelon Sugar. It was a watermelon’s inside red. When he had found out the suit came in that color, he had danced around the dining table for what Y/N had felt like was an hour, humming the tune of Watermelon Sugar excitedly. Finally, she had coaxed him to sit back down and get back to their other work, which was still picking out clothes.

“No, that’s fine,” Harry shook his head and used his thumb to scratch under his lips absentmindedly, “It really needs to be that color.”

She nodded, she knew what his answer was going to be, but she also knew he still liked to make the final decision.

“Alright, we’ll just have to meet for longer when everything arrives, to tailor that one. Then the rest of them should just be making sure the fit is perfect.”

She rose up from her seat and patted Harry’s shoulder, leaving him to his thoughts, as she went back to finish up the calls with Jane and the designers.

He caught her hand in his before she completely walked away, “Thank you, Y/N.” He was so grateful he had hired someone who was as driven as he was and understood his fashion sense and wanted to help enhance what he was thinking, rather than someone trying to control him or just going along with whatever he said. Neither would be productive or helpful, thankfully Y/N loved her job and cared to do things right.

She grinned before exiting, “H, you’re going to be this century’s style icon if it’s the last thing I do.” He laughed as she walked out of the room, leaning back on the couch to continue his lurking on Instagram.

One week later

“I’m here, H! I come bearing Gucci and more!” Y/N said as she shuffled through Harry’s front door, she held a deconstructed rack and a garment bag filled with heavy suits and things. Inside were Harry’s four most important outfits for SNL, some other garments for SNL, and some clothes they had talked about for his upcoming listening sessions later in the month. Y/N needed to check the fit on all of them and begin tailoring the Watermelon Sugar suit. The key Harry had given to Y/N, previously, had let her in, but she assumed he was home. He said he’d be.

When Y/N rounded the corner she found another empty room. Confused, she set down her large items and went to search for Harry. Y/N literally needed him to be here for this part. It was the only real time she actually needed to see him in person - but that was beside the point.

“H?”

She wandered through the different rooms of his home. Normally, Y/N didn’t go into the other rooms, she was always mainly in his lounge area, the dining room, and a little casual office room he had - sometimes the kitchen for water, his bedroom once. Still not finding him, she decided to venture to the furthest door, Harry’s bedroom, she remembered.

Harry groaned at the sound of a knock on his door, he rolled over in his bed. After a few moments of hearing nothing else than his groan, Y/N felt like she had to go in and check on him.

“H, it’s 12:30 and we agreed we’d meet at noon. Are you feeling alright?”

Y/N moved into the room and found a shirtless Harry surrounded by rumpled sheets, clutching at a pillow. He groaned into his pillow again in response. Her legs bent at the edge of the bed and she reached out to smooth some of his chestnut hair out of his face, “What’s wrong?”

He moved his head to allow his eyes to look at her, “‘M so tired, don’t know why. My stomach kind of hurts too…” Y/N looked at him quizzically, before running her hand over his tan forehead once more, this time checking for a fever. “You don’t have a fever. When did you go to sleep? Have you eaten anything today?” With her help, Harry moved into a seated position, head tilted back against the bedpost. He sat silent for a moment before blowing air out of his mouth. “Went to sleep kind of late for me, I guess...Haven’t eaten.”

“Ok, you’re just tired from staying up late, you old man, and you might be a little dehydrated and hungry. Listen, I’ll go make you some food if you get up and prepare yourself for the day. We need to get all your clothes fitted so that I can fix anything before next week.” Y/N was always good at getting Harry back on track when he got distracted - or even out of the station, when he wasn’t in the mood to work on something. She slid from her perch on the bed and walked to almost the edge of the room before Harry called her back.

“Can you pick out my clothes for me?” His soft, tired voice whined. “So hard...and you’ve got the best eye. Pleaseeee,” he pleaded softly.

Rolling her eyes, Y/N sighed and made her way back into his room. Crossing to the door that led to his walk-in closet, she set to work. As silly as he was being, she could never pass up on a chance to pick out an outfit for Harry.

“You’re literally going to be changing the entire time, H, you could have just thrown on sweats,” she called back to him once inside the smaller room. He repeated how she always picked the right thing, even for just around the house. Again, Y/N rolled her eyes at Harry, but she also couldn’t hide the warm smile on her face that was due to his compliment.

She couldn’t believe how dramatic Harry could be sometimes. Right now, he was a lesser form of hungover and he was acting like his life was ending. Y/N had made a note a while ago to never agree to a meeting on the day after any partying. She learned the hard way one particularly terrible Sunday. She had come round his house at a similar time, noon-ish and found Harry dead asleep, backwards in his bed. When she had roused him, his only responses were grumbles and groans. She had to not only pick out his clothes, but also help dress him. Then, after providing water and aspirin, she moved all their work into his bedroom so they could work from there. Harry had proved to be a baby when it came to hangovers. But, she hadn’t realized he could get like this even without being truly hungover.

After settling on his live aid t-shirt, that Y/N was eternally jealous of, located at the front of his drawer and his favorite corduroy trousers, she walked out and threw them in the direction of his toned, but slumped body. “I will not get you boxers, that is most definitely not in my job description, Boss.” Y/N sent a pointed look in his direction, moving to finally leave the room. While he was technically her boss as her employer, their work relationship was extremely collaborative and it never felt like he was in control of her, she just liked to give him shit for being a drama queen.

“Guess I’ll be going commando. How’s that going to work with me changing in front of you a bunch of times?” He teased right back, taking the clothes you had thrown at him and giving them a onceover. His teasing signalled that he was already feeling better.

Y/N shook her head and walked out of the room, “For the love of God, Harry, please put on underwear before you come out and continuously strip in front of me!”

The words he shouted after that were muffled, but they were something along the lines of how the human body is beautiful and shouldn’t be covered up. Unbelievable. As she set to work on making both of them some lunch, she finally heard Harry begin moving around. They had a lot of work to do as it was and whenever Harry was in a mood, whether it be a good mood or a bad mood, they always seemed to have a hard time focusing.

One night, that could be seen as the poster child for Harry and Y/N’s procrastination, was during the planning for the Adore You music video. Harry was in a super good mood that day and he had brought that energy to their meeting at his house. Y/N was supposed to be fitting him for the various outfits, but Harry, in his mania, ordered an overzealous amount of Chinese food. It took her and Harry hours to even make a dent in the food. And while they passed the time with eating, Harry and Y/N got further and further from their tasks, opting for conversations that included more fun topics than work. They had gossipped about some of the other people they worked with, Harry had begged for “the tea” about some of his other staffers and Y/N was happy to oblige. As much as Y/N would hate to admit it, she loved when they got off of work subjects and talked about how their day’s had been and what has been on their nerves lately. It was a nice way to decompress, it was like hanging out with a friend, except it wasn’t, not really.

Harry shuffled into the kitchen wearing what Y/N had picked out for him. Her smile grew knowing that he hadn’t changed what she’d picked. His confidence in her and her abilities never failed to feel like the biggest compliment.

“Go sit at the dining table, I’ve made us some little sandwiches and then we can decide the order we want to go through the outfits in.”

Before following Y/N’s orders, Harry continued his shuffling around, first to the cabinet for a glass, then to the fridge for water. At the end of the table, she set the plates between the head of the table’s spot and the one to its left. Harry took the side spot, so Y/N was on the end. After a bite of his food, Harry moaned loudly in contentment. This caused an amused look on Y/N’s face, there had been nothing special in his house so she had just made what was possible. This meant that Harry’s satisfaction was a little over the top.

“You’re acting like you haven’t eaten in a week. What did you do last night that got you in such a twist?” Y/N asked as she took a sip of her own glass of water. Harry nibbled at his lower lip after swallowing, trying to understand why he was particularly tired today.

“I guess I forgot to eat properly yesterday and then I went out running. And I stayed up late on the phone with,” he paused, eyes flashing to Y/N and then away again, “someone for SNL.”

Y/N hummed at his words before going back to her own eating. She didn’t understand why he hesitated about telling her he’d been on the phone last night, it especially irked her that he wouldn’t even say with whom. Professionally, it wasn’t really her business, but Harry was never secretive with her. Plus, it seemed to be work related so why was he being so flighty about it.

Moving forward, Harry peppier from eating and simply moving around, the pair set to work. They decided on trying on everything else first and then saving the Watermelon Sugar suit to the end. The other three main pieces for the night fit perfectly, Y/N had to only do minor reworks of certain areas.

“H, I need you to hold still…” Y/N interrupted Harry’s ramblings as she was crouched beside him.

She had to take up the hem on the pant legs so right now she was trying to pin them in the place she and Harry had agreed upon, without messing with the pleats.

“Sorry,” He mumbled, straightening out his back to stand taller.

He stayed quiet for a bit until Y/N popped back up, she looked at her notebook for reference on what she still had to tailor.

“Okay, next, the pants crotch is looking pretty fitted, so I assume you want it taken down a bit,” Y/N said as she got back into her crouching position. “Look in the mirror and tell me where you think letting it out looks best, I don’t have the best vantage point when I’m up this close…” she trailed off, placing her measuring tape directly on top of Harry’s crotch and running it down his leg a ways.

Once done with her first attempt at where she thought was best to let the pants out, she turned her eyes to the mirror that showed Harry in his suit with Y/N on her knees before him. Harry cleared his throat as he looked in the mirror, seeing Y/N with her eyes wide in anticipation in the position she was in made him want to run and hide. Her hands were extremely close to his dick, but it was literally her job, he knew he had to shake the thoughts that were running through his mind.

“Maybe just a bit further up actually, as much as I like the high waist with dropped crotch, I want this suit to have that specifically tailored look,” his hands motioned for Y/N to bring the drop up a ways.

Her hands then brought the measuring tape up, once again grazing over his area. Again, Y/N looked at Harry through the mirror for approval, and this time he gave it and she placed a single pin in the place where the pants would be let out to.

Standing up, Y/N hoped Harry didn’t notice the blush gracing her face. She was a stylist and used to being around naked bodies as well as touching around a man’s crotch when working. But Harry in this suit must have been magic, because she had felt extremely vulnerable on her knees in front of him in it. She had felt flushed the minute he hadn’t liked what she had done initially and she hated that she felt that way for some reason. Beginning to work on the sleeves of the suit set her at ease, Y/N was thankful to no longer be kneeling or in such close proximity to what was under Harry’s pants.

“Anything on your mind of late?” Harry broke the silence.

Y/N hummed with a pin stuck between her lips, folding up the suit jacket’s right sleeve. Plucking it from her mouth after a few silent moments, she said, “Not really, haven’t had time to do much else lately. Always thinking about you,” Y/N flushed as she realized what she had just said. “I mean, thinking about you like about your clothes and when they’re going to arrive and what I need to do about them, not you personally, sorry that came out wrong,” her blush intensified as she rapidly fumbled through her last sentence.

“Ow!”

“Oh my god!”

While Y/N had gotten flustered with her words, she managed to stick the pin she was using straight into Harry’s flesh. She immediately removed the pin from where it had stuck him.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry, H, we’ve got to get this off. I need to make sure you’re not bleeding onto the suit.”

Y/N rushed around to Harry's backside and began slipping off his suit jacket as Harry chuckled and began to unbutton the shirt as carefully as possible.

“‘S alright, Y/N, if there’s any blood on the shirt it’ll blend in, blood is practically the same color.” She glared at him through the mirror and Harry continued to laugh, “That is not funny, H, I shouldn’t have stuck you in the first place.”

“No, no,” Harry hushed Y/N as she began to slip off his shirt from one side to the other, taking off the sleeve on the side she hadn’t poked, “you’ve got so much on your plate with all the planning for the upcoming events. Then you worked yourself up over a little slip.” As Y/N carefully unbuttoned the cuff of the sleeve to try and slip off the shirt with the least amount of blood on it as possible, Harry finished with, “I wouldn’t mind if you were just thinking about me, though, an’ not the clothes.”

This time, Y/N was very in control, not willing to let herself slip up a second time today. She didn’t know how to respond to what Harry had just admitted. It wasn’t like this hasn't happened before. Both of them were guilty of making little comments that made it sound like they were interested in each other in a way that was a little different than professional or friendly. But every time the other person always had the responsibility to shut the idea down or completely blow past what their counter had just said.

“Harry…” She began, it was soft and pleading, like she was saying she couldn’t entertain that idea. Examining his forearm, after pulling the shirt completely away and resting it on a nearby chair, she saw a little spot of blood protruding from the pin prick she had caused. “Where do you keep your bandages?” Y/N decided that it was best to brush past Harry’s words this time and went off to find his first aid kit. Harry stood there, shirtless, staring at the blood on his arm. It really wasn’t a lot and it wouldn’t have done anything to the suit, but Y/N was always so careful and never wanted to ruin any of Harry’s clothes.

On her return, Y/N came upon a shirtless Harry perched on the edge of the table, with one arm crossed and his other - that was bleeding - being held slightly away from his body, as if Harry was afraid to touch it. His posture was slumped so Y/N could see his spine curving beneath his tanned honey-soft skin and his shoulder blades slightly flexed. While most of Harry’s body was covered in tattoos, she noticed how the closest tattoo to his back was the small line drawing of a guitar on the back of his left shoulder. Other than that his smooth back was bare. Y/N found it interesting that Harry had never chosen to ink his back. She jogged lightly back into the room and Harry’s head turned to watch her approach. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth as he regarded her. She noticed he was being particularly quiet, but she had no idea why. Maybe he was still tired.

Y/N set to work on finding the correct tissue, neosporin, and bandage for Harry’s small wound. As she worked on fixing up her mistake, Harry’s eyes followed her movements. Green eyes flickering between her hands on his arm and her own eyes focusing on her task.

“After this, I actually can just head home and finish the rest of the work,” Y/N said as she unpackaged the bandage, “I already know where I need to take in the suit sleeves and the shirt’s sleeves were looking fine. So, I can get out of your hair and you can get to sleep early tonight.” She placed the nude toned bandage over Harry’s arm, she was a little sad to find he didn’t own fun bandages. That was something that she expected from Harry, but she resigned that maybe she didn’t know everything about Harry.

Before Harry could speak, Y/N continued, “Don’t rehearsals for the show start tomorrow? When are you flying to New York?” She ran her hand over the bandage, smoothing it in place. Her hand lingered there as her eyes looked up and met Harry’s. Harry twitched his arm away from Y/N’s touch and scratched his nose slightly.

“Yeah, I’m flying out tomorrow morning. When are you set to fly out?”

“Friday. I’ll get in before the final dress rehearsal and then I’ll be there for the show.” Y/N stepped back and began to rehang the suit jacket and shirt that they had discarded in her haste to not get blood on them.

Then Y/N stood there staring at Harry. He looked at her slightly confused by her doing nothing when she said she was leaving. “Pants, H.” She said finally when she realized he had forgotten he was still wearing the suit pants. “Oh! Sorry,” Harry exclaimed as he began to unbutton and remove the pants he was wearing. He handed her the pants and she exchanged them with his live-aid t shirt. He took it graciously before slipping it on and disguising his toned body beneath it. Then he took his pants from earlier and fully redressed himself.

“Damn!” Y/N said and Harry’s head flipped to watch her as she began to put all of the clothing back in their garment bags and take down the rack.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just pinched myself with the rack, I’m all left feet today.”

“Here,” Harry chuckled as he walked over to help Y/N, “let me help you with all this. Just in the boot of your car, yeah?” Y/N nodded and smiled in appreciation for Harry. He grabbed her keys laying on the table and then took the rack and a garment bag. Even if things sometimes got tense between them, for whatever reason, he was always quick to move past it and be thoughtful and kind in the best ways for Y/N. After shaking her hand out, she grabbed the last garment bags and followed Harry out to her car. Harry shut the back of her car softly and turned to face Y/N, she stood beside her car door, ever so slightly leaning against it. He walked to her side and smiled.

“I’ll see you in a week,” he said before wrapping his arms around Y/N’s much smaller frame. His body was radiating heat and it felt good against Y/N in the crisp night air of London. She pressed into his hold and wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed him hard. “Less than...Can’t wait to see you make an absolute fool of yourself out there.” Harry protested her tease with a small, “Hey!” but mostly focused on his hands on her back and the way her hair felt especially soft under his chin. Finally, Y/N pulled away, “Kidding! You’ll be amazing and you’ll look killer while doing it.” She winked before opening her car door and driving off. Harry was left with the lingering scent of her perfume and shampoo mingling in his nose.

It was the Saturday night, November 16th, 2019.

Harry and Y/N were in his dressing room before the show started. His outfits for the night were lined up, except for his opener one that Y/N had just dressed him in. His first change would be for Light’s Up, then a couple skit outfits that had to be moved elsewhere for quick changes, then the Watermelon Sugar suit, and then finally his end of the show casual look. The opener looked incredible, it’s fit was impeccable and Y/N knew people were going to love it.

She stepped back from Harry to give his whole body a once over, the SNL hairstylist had just blown out his hair and given him a sort of middle part. It definitely looked good and paired with the suit - Y/N could already tell it was going to be a hit by all accounts. Harry grinned back at her, doing a little dance to show just how much he was loving his clothes and how excited he was.

Grabbing the lint roller, Y/N gave the lapels of his suit jacket a once over and then moved it slightly out of the way to roll the big collar of Harry’s shirt and the bits of the body of the shirt that were showing underneath the jacket. Basically, Y/N was lint rolling over Harry’s clothed abs. Apparently, that was a ticklish area for Harry because he began to squirm and giggle under the tool’s touch.

“Seriously, H?”

She smiled as she said it, so excited for Harry that she couldn’t be mad at his relestness.

“Can’t help it. ‘M so giddy. Plus, I’m a wee bit ticklish.”

Y/N gave him a single laugh before removing the lint roller and smoothing over the shirt against his stomach and then over the lapels when she put the jacket back in place. She adjusted the Gucci reader’s she was wearing today, that were more for decoration than anything, but she liked to pretend they made her see better.

“You look smashing, Mr. Styles. Absolutely gorgeous, if I do say so myself.”

“Are you talking to me or the suit?” Harry asked as he flipped to look in the full length mirror in the dressing room.

“Can’t it be both?”

“Sure,” Harry said, he noticed the clock and realized it was his time to get in places. He leaned down and placed a small kiss on Y/N’s cheek, “It’s my time, thank you, Y/N.” She blushed at his words and actions. As he walked out the door, she called after him, “Break a leg, H!” He sent a final air kiss in her direction before completely disappearing.

She looked at the clothes hanging on the rack in the room and palmed over the fabric. Checking the lapels and brushing the lint roller over the, she finally stepped back and was happy with how they looked. When the show was just about to start, she flitted to the part of backstage where she could watch Harry perform. She giggled along to his monologue and grinned whole-heartedly when the crowd would roar with approval. Y/N had heard all of the jokes already because of the dress rehearsal yesterday, but it didn’t matter. Harry was killing it. She also took time to appreciate how good Harry looked in his suit on stage. In front of the lights and all the people, his suit shined brightly with the pops of blue and yellow and the oversized grey-iege jacket. His soft chestnut hair billowed perfectly to frame his forehead as he sipped from the faux martini. Y/N bit her lip to stifle her laugh. The fact that Harry, her boss and friend, was up on the Saturday Night Live stage with pink and blue nails sipping from a faux martini, it was perfect.

When Harry came back for his first performance change Y/N was right there waiting for him.

“Hi, that was really good,” she smiled up at him as he began to take off his coat.

He smiled brightly back at her as he exhaled a hefty breath, “You think so?”

“Yes! C’mon, everyone loved it. You delivered it all perfectly…” she took over undoing the buttons on the shirt because Harry was moving too slowly. “I’m in a man band now…” Y/N mumbled under her breath before chuckling.

“Did you just imitate my accent?” Harry said, now pulling off his sleeves.

Y/N moved around his back to take the shirt to hang and grab his Lights Up outfit. They worked like a well-oiled machine together, constantly taking over roles to get things done more efficiently, but never stepping on each other’s toes.

“Nope,” she winked before handing him the black sequin jumpsuit and exchanging it for his yellow pants. After rehanging the pants and bringing over Harry’s different set of boots, Y/N said, “Y’know, I’d have to say that your hair is giving your suit a run for its money.” She placed the shoes on the table beside Harry and began to fix into the place different parts of the jumpsuit, moving to zip up the back and then coming to the front to smooth it.

“What do you mean?” Harry looked in the mirror and delicately touched the edges of his hair, considering Y/N’s statement.

“No one ever really sees it how it is, nicely blown out but not too much product so it falls to frame your face. What’d you tell the hair person you wanted?” Y/N stepped back to allow Harry to change his boots from one Gucci pair to another, like he did with most of his wardrobe.

“Just told them to make me look mature. You think it looks good?” He looked up at Y/N when he asked the question.

“Think it looks sexy, that’s what I’m saying, no one’s gonna be able to focus on your clothes with how good your hair looks.”

“Ah,” he deftly runs his hands down his suit as he looks in the mirror.

Y/N just stares at Harry, checking him over one more time. She wasn’t lying about his hair, it was sexy and she wanted to run her hands through it to feel how soft it was. In a complete friend way of course.

“I like it…”

“It looks like you just rolled out of bed, but the bed was made of angel feathers.”

Harry laughed at Y/N’s description. He shifted his body to face her more and moved closer to her in the process.

“Alright, you should probably get back out there,” Y/N closes the gap between them and adjusts the chain of his jade and silver crosses and brushes over his broad shoulders.

They’re professional touches, but her movements hold an undercurrent of intimacy that neither of them realize. If anyone had been looking on, they would see how Y/N’s fingers delicately caressed Harry’s skin right before she cradled the pendants to move them in place. They would also see Harry instinctively lean forward into her touch and breathe slightly deeper to take in her scent. When she brushes over his shoulders, he straightens up at the touch and shows he’s ready to get back out there. It’s as if she prepared him to go.

Harry sings Lights Up and the crowd loves it. Sarah kills her drumming and Mitch eats up lead guitar. The backup singers bring out a different tone to the song. It is all around an amazing performance.

As Y/N clapped along with the crowd from backstage, Aidy Bryant approaches her.

“You’re Harry’s stylist, right?”

Y/N turns her head at the woman next to her, “Yeah?”

Aidy smiles, eyes slightly gleaming, “Well, you’re wonderful at your job.” As Y/N is about to thank her, Aidy continues, “And Harry knows that too, he talked about you all week. We all thought you were his girlfriend at first.”

Y/N laughed lightly and had to keep herself from letting her jaw drop at Aidy’s words. She even choked a bit on her own spit and had to cough slightly before even being able to think of a response, “Well, um, yeah...no, H, Harry is just my employer and...friend. No dating, we just get along well. Which is important since we spend a lot of time together - for work of course!”

Aidy smiled sweetly at Y/N, “Yeah, Harry explained that when Beck asked him how long you’d been together. At first he had said a couple months and then said ‘wait, Y/N is just my stylist, we’ve been working together for a couple months’ and then we all felt really dumb.”

“Don’t feel dumb,” Y/N reassured her, unsure why she was actually continuing this conversation, “He loves to talk about clothes and that’s where I fit in to his life, so I’m sure my name would come up a fair bit. Was that it?”

“Yeah I guess, but-” Aidy began to say more, but Y/N cut her off.

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry, but Harry’s finished and I’ve got to go help him change for his next song.”

Aidy was left in Y/N’s wake, chuckling to herself, fully reassured about the reason that they had all thought Harry had been dating Y/N. Because they already acted like a couple. And they were both helplessly in love with one another and neither of them knew.

The rest of the show went off without a hitch. Harry continued to wow the crowd and Y/N sent him off from his dressing room always looking fabulous. Just as he was about to walk back on stage for his final farewell, Y/N noticed a tiny string on his trousers zipper. Unable to stop Harry and unable to grab at the string without looking odd, she had to let him walk on stage with it. It wasn’t actually a big deal, but Y/N sighed in annoyance because she knew that string was going to bug her for the rest of the night.

“Treat People With Kindness!” Harry finishes off his farewell.

Applause begins to sound and the cast is out front hugging and chatting, while Y/N is watching from the side still fixated on the string on Harry’s pants, now simply dangling. Finally, they begin to clear the stage because it’s time for the after party. Y/N knew there was no stealing Harry away to fix the problem that was now fixated in her mind. Every cast and crew member was trying to talk to him, congratulating him, hugging him, anything to spend time with the incredible man. Y/N couldn’t blame them, but she also wanted to be able to go some place quiet and debrief with Harry about his outfits. She wanted to look up what people were saying about his clothes and discuss the critiques with Harry. She also wanted to start discussing what was coming next with Harry. But most of all, she just wanted to hang out with Harry.

What Y/N wanted wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, which she knew, but it still only grew her annoyance with that string. If only she could get it off of him, maybe then her mind would be able to relax a little.

She meandered backstage, resigned she wouldn’t be talking to Harry for a while. There she went to find the band’s dressing room, knowing she would find Mitch or Sarah who she’d be happy to talk to. They weren’t ones for the spotlight and no one ever really seemed to want to brownnose with them at events like this. Y/N had met them a few times.

The first was when Harry had asked Y/N to meet him in the studio in mid July, Mitch and Sarah had both been there helping Harry finish up something for the album. Y/N never asked what, she liked music quite a bit, but when it came to the technical part of it, it went completely over her head. Harry had introduced them both and they seemed lovely. After that, she had seen them around for an event or two of Harry’s. It wasn’t much, but it was more than any of the other people around right now.

Just as she was about to knock on the door it swung open, revealing Harry’s entire backing band. “Hey,” Y/N said sheepishly, “Harry’s being fawned over by the masses and I don’t actually know anyone else here. Is it alright if I hang out with you all at this after party? I doubt there’s going to be anyone really dying to meet the stylist.”

She smoothed her own clothes as she spoke. Y/N wanted to look professional tonight because sometimes when she was dressed in more fun or “young” clothes she got mistaken for someone who had snuck in. The only thing that got people to not question her authority to be where she was, was a card that read ‘staff’ that she would clip onto whatever she was wearing at places like this. Tonight, she chose a pair of purple plaid pants, a sleek lilac tank underneath a cream knit shawl, and cream Gucci mules. Ever since Harry took an interest in Y/N’s pearl necklace, she had largely stopped wearing hers because she hoped never to be photographed matching with him. However, she had known the pearls would have completed the look, even putting them on in her hotel room, twisting a pearl in her hand as she looked in the mirror, and then taking the necklace off again and settling on a different silver necklace instead. The ‘staff’ card was clipped to her pants pocket tonight.

“Of course!” Sarah said as the band began to file out of the room, “You might want to take your tag off now, though, you’re done working for the night.”

Her laughter rang sweetly through Y/N’s ears and she smiled back before removing her identifying card. She hated the piece of plastic and was glad to take it off, it never went with her outfits, but she had gotten tired of taking out her business card every time someone asked what she was doing. Y/N was sure that during the tour she’d be fine without it, but as Harry’s show appearances were beginning to ramp up she knew it would be helpful to have.

“Thanks...you all were amazing out there tonight. Second time on the SNL stage right?”

The group of you began to walk in the direction of where the after party was being held. Mitch piped up, “Thanks. Yeah, I love their box stage setup, it’s pretty cool.” Y/N was happy that she had people who were easy to talk to so that she wouldn’t be alone tonight.

Arriving in the room of the party, they were all quick to grab the alcohol that was being provided at the pop up bar. Y/N wasn’t normally a fan of drinking at events like these, mainly because she was not usually invited to this part of the night and when she was she wanted to be alert. But she figured there wasn’t much else to do so she took a hearty sip of the champagne. It was a little sweet, her face scrunched.

“Too sweet?” Mitch questioned when he saw Y/N’s face.

“Just a little for my taste.”

“Harry’s not going to be drinking tonight then. So particular about his alcohol,” Mitch continued.

Y/N laughed, “Well I’m glad, then I don’t have to deal with him being a baby about his hangover tomorrow.”

Mitch quirked an eyebrow at Y/N’s statement. Sarah and the others in the band had dispersed to mingle with the SNL party goers, leaving Mitch and Y/N to their conversation.

Realizing what she said could be seen as slightly weird out of context, Y/N quickly started again, “because I’m supposed to go shopping with Harry tomorrow. He wanted to go to Gucci and a couple other stores here before flying to LA. I’m going back to London until the listening parties, so we need to figure out the finishing touches for those and..” Y/N trailed off trying to remember which looks weren’t completed yet for the next few shows, Mitch waited patiently, “a few of the suits for the Late Late Show. He’s not happy with one of them so we might switch it. But anyway, you know how he is with a hangover. Proper child.”

Mitch threw his head back in laughter at Y/N’s serious look that she gave him. “Yeah, he can be...a lot. I meant to tell you, Harry looked great tonight. All of the clothes were fantastic,” Mitch added.

He was kind and Y/N appreciated him sticking with her. The two of them had rested themselves against a wall near the bar, sipping their champagne and enjoying each other’s company.

“Thank you.”

Mitch opened his mouth to say something else, but Heidi Gardener, another SNL member interrupted.

“Y/N, right!?”

Y/N and Mitch both turn to her, equally taken aback by the sudden burst of energy from this person they didn’t really know. Y/N nodded.

“Oh my gosh! You have to tell me where you got the jacket Harry is wearing!”

Heidi even goes as far to point in Harry’s direction. Y/N knows what she’s talking about, but her eyes still wander to where she pointed. Harry stood in a clump of people, surrounded by Ben Winston, James Corden, and the Gerbers who had all come to watch. She sighed as she watched his eyes shine as he laughed with a smile on his face. She hoped that by now the string had fallen off his pants by now, if not she was going to kick herself later.

“Oh, it’s Bode,” Y/N’s eyes coming back to meet Heidi’s happy face, “but it’s custom made from a vintage blanket. There’s only two that exist.”

Y/N and Mitch watched as Heidi’s face dropped.

“And I’m pretty sure the designer owns the other one,” Y/N added, “Sorry.”

Heidi smiles and jokes, “Know any ways I could possibly get Harry to give me his?”

“He loves that coat. I have no idea what you could possibly do to convince him he didn’t need it anymore.”

“Sex, probably,” Mitch says under his breath.

Heidi doesn’t catch it as she walks back off and Y/N turns to swat him with her free hand.

“What? He always gives away his clothes to girl’s he has crushes on.” Y/N rolls her eyes at Mitch’s words.

“Probably best if you don’t inform the masses about that,” a new voice says.

Unbeknownst to Mitch and Y/N, Harry had broken away from his entourage to steal a few minutes with his two friends, his best friends if he was being honest. They laugh together as he wraps his arms around their shoulders and pulls them both into his chest. Y/N feels the warmth radiating from Harry’s body as she snuggles into his side. Her hand wraps under his jacket and around his waist to squeeze right about his hip bone. His face is gleaming with a small sheen of sweat, but his smile is so big she barely notices his perspiration as he looks down at her.

“Heard you were talkin’ shit?”

Mitch quips, “Us? Never.”

Harry scoffs, “Come off it!”

When he releases Y/N and Mitch from his grasp, Mitch straightens up while Y/N’s eyes immediately go down to Harry’s crotch. She’s not paying attention to their conversation as she tries to make out in the dim light whether the string is gone or not. The men realize she’s not listening and they both follow her gaze.

Confused, Harry asks, “Y/N, any particular reason you’re staring at my dick?”

Her head shoots up, eyes wide and cheeks flushed from embarrassment.

“I wasn’t!”

Mitch laughs and decides he wants another glass of champagne right then, mumbling something about how that was his cue. Harry smiles, knowing she wasn’t doing what he had said, but still intrigued to know what was going on in her mind.

“You had a string right on your zipper and it’s been bugging me since you went out for your outro. This is the first time I’ve seen you on your own and I couldn't exactly go up to you in a random crowd and grab at your crotch. But now I can’t see in this light…” Y/N bit at her lower lip and furrowed her brow still trying to see if the string was there.

“Have you really been thinking about it this whole time?” Harry asked, slightly concerned.

“Yes...I know it doesn’t matter, but I just want your clothes to look perfect.”

Harry takes a deep breath as he makes a small smile at Y/N. Then he brushes over the front of his pants, hoping he removes the string if it's still attached to him. “There, I’m sure it’s gone now. I’m sorry you had to worry about that. Just know everyone I’ve talked to has been raving about the clothes.” He placed his ring-clad hand on Y/N’s upper arm and squeezed it.

“You did an amazing job,” Y/N said.

Harry pulls her into his chest one more time. This time without Mitch so both of Harry’s arms go around her shoulders and both of hers go around his slender waist. Again her hands disappear under his coat and thumb over his warm white t-shirt, her face resting on his chest right next to the word ‘Sex’. His arms tighten around her back as they rest there for a while. Y/N always has to make herself pull away, knowing that Harry will stay there for as long as he can - in anyone’s embrace - and remembering they’re in a public setting, she didn’t want anyone to assume things, even if she had already been made aware that people had.

“We’ll debrief more later tonight, yeah? The champagne is terrible so I won’t be drinking,” Harry said.

Y/N laughed under her breath as she smiled at his words. Mitch and her knew Harry too well. She nodded about getting together later, “Alright. Get back to your fan club.” Harry narrowed her eyes at her words, not sure if she was trying to sound sarcastic or not.

Hey, I’m back at the hotel. Just let me know when you want to debrief :) x

Y/N texted Harry the minute she got back to the hotel, she had no idea if he had left before her or was still at the after party. All she knew was that it was late and she was starting to get tired. Still, it was important for them to talk about their plans for tomorrow and she also really wanted to just be with him alone. Whenever they would debrief after big events Harry and Y/N would laugh at all the outrageous stuff they had seen go on throughout the night.

When she was still a freelance stylist she had helped Harry to plan his Camp outfit at the Met Gala. That night, they never even went to bed and had to debrief about the clothes the next afternoon over tea at the Palace. Both her and Harry were recovering from their exhaustion and nursing equally terrible hangovers. But there they were, sitting in the center of the dining area of the hotel, being served some of the nicest tea and sandwiches Y/N had ever had. It was amazing. Y/N had never felt that rich in her life before and Harry had told her the craziest stories about the most famous people in attendance. It was almost unbelievable what these people would reveal to Harry and Y/N was happy to listen to all of it, promising to never tell anyone else. That outing was probably the first time Harry realized he really liked Y/N and wanted to work more closely with her.

While tonight wasn’t quite as wild as the Met Gala had been, Y/N was still excited to hear any funny stories Harry might have in addition to their clothing talk. They really hadn’t had much time to chat since she had gotten to New York yesterday so it would be nice to just be alone together. Even if Y/N chalked their debriefs up to ‘shop talk’, she was always very excited for them.

As she reached her hotel room door, her phone buzzed with a message from Harry.

I’m still out, but should be heading back soon. Up to you if you want to wait up or we can just debrief in the morning while we shop. x H

Y/N sighed at the message, she wanted to wait up and debrief before tomorrow, if not for alone time with Harry but professionally for being able to plan out their shopping tomorrow. Where Harry was carefree, Y/N was meticulous and planned out. She liked to have fun, but she knew when she had to get her work done, even when Harry was off in his own mind. Their work styles mostly coincided, Harry could be serious and focused, too, but often when he was surrounded by all his famous friends he had a hard time saying ‘no’ to whatever came up. So Y/N knew that Harry’s definition of ‘soon’ could range from actually soon to almost dawn. She really hoped he actually meant soon, so she shot him a text saying:

Just knock on my room and if I open it we can debrief lol x

Harry smiled down at his phone when Y/N’s text came through, slightly chuckling before double tapping and placing a heart reaction of her text. Then he was pulled into the limo that one of his friend’s had gotten them and was handed a flute of champagne.

Back at the hotel, Y/N threw her phone on the bed and decided to change and simply settle in for the night. If Harry made it back, he made it back and if he didn’t she’d wake up well rested.

Maybe thirty minutes into scrolling on her phone, Y/N heard a rough knock on her door. She was actually quite surprised that Harry had indeed been back soon. Rising from her snuggled place in the bed, she shifted around her night clothes and padded to her door. There stood, rather hung, a slightly disheveled Harry. His hair was whipped into disaster, something was smudged on his face, and she noticed a stain on his t-shirt that hadn’t been there the last time she’d been with him.

He slurred her name as he stumbled through the doorway. Y/N closed her eyes and sighed in exasperation. She was in awe that somehow Harry hadn’t gotten off his ass in the past hour and a half.

“What happened to not drinking tonight?”

She walked beside him and helped shove him into a sitting position on her bed. He flapped his arms, chaotically trying to get his plaid jacket off. Throwing her phone in the direction of her pillow, she moved to help Harry with his jacket. After quite a bit of strugglings, Y/N finally got the Bode jacket off of him successfully and threw it onto the nearby chair. Sighing, she settled beside him.

“So, Harry, care to explain?”

“Hi, Y/N…” He swayed slightly, attempting to face Y/N more. She threw out a hand to his shoulder, gripping him tightly to try and steady him.

“We went in this limousine, and they had champagne - good champagne - and I drank a bottle or so pretty quickly.”

“Or so? Oh Harry...I mean you’re free to make your own choices, but I don’t know if this was one of your best.”

“Wasn’t...wasn’t my idea. I was planning on just going back to the hotel. Then James convinced me to come out for a bit. Then the champagne was looking good so I went for it.”

“Like I said, you can make your own choices,” she patted his arm and went to the en suite bathroom to wet a washcloth to clean off his face.

“So, is it champagne on your shirt or am I going to have to go through hell to get the stain out?” She called.

Harry groaned and leaned back on the bed, fingering at the crisp white sheets. “Champagne,” he finally muttered as Y/N reappeared into the dim room, only the outside world and the light in the bathroom lighting this area.

“And on the face?”

She climbed onto the bed and kneeled beside Harry’s prone body, beginning to swipe at the smudge on his face. He tilted his head to face her, bringing the cheek with the dirt to lay facing perfectly up. His jawline showed perfectly and she felt the strength that laid beneath the skin she was washing.

His eyes flitted up to her face, trying to stop the spins he was currently experiencing. He hadn’t thought he was that drunk until he had been required to find his way up to their floor on his own.

“Lipstick?”

She sighed, running the washcloth over his cheek once more, and tried to push the image of some woman (or man who wore lipstick, she guessed) with her lips all over Harry’s face. She didn’t want to know who it was or why it was. It was too hard, especially after the day of people asking her about Harry and her relationship and insinuating things about him and his romantic life. She just liked to keep the words Harry and romance apart as much as possible, it made her life easier that way.

“It was only from-”

“It’s ok, Harry, I don’t need to know who you were…” She stopped herself, not even wanting to say ‘kissing’ or ‘snogging’ or even worse ‘shagging’. Adults were human beings and they could do a lot in an hour and a half. And again, she didn’t want to know.

“You keep doing that. Are you mad at me?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Calling me Harry, not ‘H’. Is it because you’re mad at me?”

“No,” she sighed, shifting to sit more casually, “No, I’m not mad at you. I just wasn’t expecting you to show up at my door like this. I try not to worry about you, but then when you show up like this, it kind of affirms I had reason to be concerned.”

She took a hand and smoothed over Harry’s tousled hair, he rolled his head back to face the ceiling. “Like I said, you’re an adult, capable of making his own decisions. And, I am just your stylist. I’m just glad you made it up here and knocked on my door. Probably would have given someone else a fright.”

He laughed, starting to sober up as the spinning in the room stopped. Her hands on his face and hair were soothing and sobering.

“Thank you for caring about me, love. And going beyond being just my stylist, you’re my friend Y/N.”

His eyes flickered shut and Y/N stared at his soothed features. His words were still slurred and she was sure the use of love was just his britishness slipping through his drunken state. The part about being more than a stylist, she tried to push it away, telling herself not to read more into it than her heart would like to. Even though he said she was a friend as well as a stylist and not anything more, it still sent so much joy through her body. He didn’t just see her as a work colleague and he had said it. But in his inebriated state, Y/N didn’t want to take everything he said as gospel.

She moved him up the bed with a little bit of his sleepy self’s help into a more comfortable position. It was pretty late now and she wasn’t going to kick him out. It would have been rude and unkind and that were two things Y/N rarely was. She went and grabbed the extra blanket from the cabinet and draped it over Harry’s large body for extra warmth since he refused to get under the covers. She also slipped off his boots and stained shirt per his request before getting into the other side of the bed and falling asleep.

She awoke to a shifting body beside her and she sat up confused as to who it could be. Quickly, Harry showing up drunk at her door came flooding back and she turned to look at the groaning Harry beside her. His arm was thrown over his face as he moaned, just waking up as well and experiencing the first bits of his hangover. This was going to be a long day.

“Hullo,” his voice was especially low, groggy and hoarse from the night before. He peaked over at her from behind the crook of his elbow. His eyelids barely open and his eyelashes weighing them down so much so that she could barely see his sleepy jade eyes.

“Good morning, H. Have a nice rest?” Y/N sat up and began to ready herself for the day, rummaging through her suitcase for an outfit and moving about the room.

Harry’s arms went to his sides as he worked to sit up, eyes following her figure as she moved around, seemingly not groggy very much unlike him. “Erm...I’m sorry for showing up pissed.”

“S’fine, H. Just glad you didn’t end up in a ditch or someone’s bed - someone’s that you might regret…” She barely regards him, throwing a single glance his way before shuffling to the bathroom to change. She knows they’ll be photographed today, it’s almost inevitable right now. Everyone knows Harry is in New York and people are buzzing to see him after his performance last night. She slips on the 70s inspired dress, the v-neck and long sleeves settling perfectly on her frame, it hugs her curves and lands around mid-thigh. Rolling on the bold mustard yellow tights and strapping up the brown leather mary jane heels, she looks herself over in the mirror. She then tries to tame her hair and do the rest of her routine, knowing she needed to get on with the day, shopping first and flying home second. Making sure Harry was okay was also on that list, but she couldn’t pretend like she wasn’t a little disappointed in him after last night.

When she returns, Harry is sitting with his legs hanging off the edge of the bed, head hanging as he’s hunched over himself. “C’mon, you gotta get going, kid. Lots to do today.” She’s pacing over to Harry’s deflated figure to pick him up and prompt him to get moving. When she arrives by his side his head lifts and his now more awake eyes stare up at her.

“I’m sorry for yesterday, really. I mean it.”

“I told you already. It’s fine.”

“It’s not - or it wasn’t. You called me ‘Harry’ last night. I don’t think I’ve heard you call me that to my face since we started working together. I took your answer last night because I was swimming in it, but now, thinking about it. I know you were upset.”

She huffs, taking a seat beside Harry on the bed, choosing to not look at him, slightly confused why she had been so upset and why he was pushing it. “Ok, yeah I was annoyed, but I was also genuinely worried. I didn’t know you could physically get that drunk in that small amount of time. And then you show up at my door with somebody else’s…” Y/N falters, catching her slip up and deciding to fix her gaze on her shoes and their intricate design built into the leather.

“You’re upset that I had lipstick on me?” He’s trying to meet Y/N’s gaze, but her eyes are really interested in her shoes. His tone is confused, he’s trying to understand what’s going on in her mind.

She scoffs, risking a glance to Harry but then returns quickly back to her dress this time. “Please...it was just inconvenient for me, okay? Thought we were going to debrief and stayed up late for you. Then I had to take care of you after you hung out with your famous pals and I had barely even seen you all day. Felt a bit used.”

Harry shifted in the bed, turning to face her by tucking one leg beneath him. He places a hand on hers that was placed on the end of her dress. Her eyes finally meet with his and she feels her breath slightly catch in her throat. His eyes are piercing, his gaze intense, maybe even a tinge of anger. “Y/N, I would never have come to your room if I even had an inkling that this would be how you’d interpret it . Even though I was drunk, I wanted to see you, that’s why I came up here, because I wanted to be with my friend, one of my best friends, not because I just needed some pushover to care for me.”

She sighs, feeling icky still about the whole situation. She sometimes found herself in fights that she never intended, she wished she hadn’t said anything at all. But she also knew that wasn’t healthy either. Flipping her hand, she intertwines her fingers with Harry’s and smiles for the first time that morning. His expression softens at it. “Look, I’m sorry too, H. It honestly wasn’t that big of a deal, but I appreciate that you’re such a great guy and boss to want to truly apologize and make sure I’m comfortable and happy… Oh, and I promise I’ll never call you anything but H from here on out - unless you tell me otherwise.”

He cackles unabashedly at her words, before suddenly clutching at his temple with his free hand. “Fuckin’ hangover,” he mumbles. She smiles and stands up, beginning to throw his shirt and shoes from the end of the bed at him, “You need to get ready. Go pop some advil or whatever. My flights at 5 so we haven’t got all day, H.”

“There she is,” Harry grins, beginning to put back on the stained ‘Sex’ shirt.

As he hustles out of the room, shoes in hand, she calls to him one last request, “When you’re in fresh clothes make sure you bring me that stained shirt. Gonna have to spot clean it when I’m back in London!”

“Of course! And we’ll debrief as we shop, yeah?”

“Yes!”

The two of them were shouting to each other as the door continued to close on them. Chuckling to herself, she begins to pack up her room, knowing she had to check out before they left. Her spirits already lifted, she doesn’t even notice as she throws Harry’s forgotten Bode jacket into her suitcase with some other items that had been on her chair. She wouldn’t notice it until she was back in London unpacking from the trip.

Shutting the case, she springs back up from her crouched position and walks to look in the full length mirror again. Her fingers run the length of her dress, leafing over the slightly darker brown embroidered flowers that were woven into the tan fabric. She squints as she turns sideways and pops a heel up behind her. It looks good, but something is missing. Rummaging through her carry-on she pulls out her old butterfly bandana she used as a head scarf and begins to fix it into place on her head. Placing large sunglasses on the bridge of her nose, she feels like the look is complete and gives herself some poses in the mirror; a peace sign, an air kiss, a Marilyn Monroe. She laughs at herself.

A knock on the door shakes her from her childish fun. Straightening up, Y/N saunters over to the door, swinging it open with ease. “H?”

“You ready?” Harry stands in a fresh pair of Marni trousers paired with a striped orange and mauve Marni sweater. He, like Y/N, had this thing about wearing the brand you planned to shop at. He didn’t always stick to his rule, but he usually didn’t like to wear Gucci when he shopped at Gucci.

“Yeah, just need to check out and drop my baggage at the front to be held for later.” Y/N slips through the door and notes how his outfit compliments hers. She wouldn’t mention it, but it's something to think about since he had known what she was wearing. She wasn’t sure why she noticed things like that, if asked, her answer would probably be that it was the stylist in her, just her job.

Stepping out of a black town car on the side street next to Gucci to go in the side entrance would never get old for Y/N. She had never really enjoyed the idea of fame, but from a young age she had known she wanted to be able to afford the finer things in life. Going into the Gucci store now, especially with Harry, was like going to the candy store once you’re a grown up and can buy whatever you want rather than what your parents will allow you to.

Today, Harry and Y/N didn’t have as much time as they would usually like to spend in the store, but they were just happy to be doing what they loved. Y/N had been ecstatic to find out Harry found shopping to be an essential part of his life and that he liked to do his outfit shopping in person rather than online. Trying on clothes and picking out things you liked just was so much more fulfilling when you were in the physical store. Then make that all happen with Harry Styles as the buyer, then it was a real party. The stores liked to pull out their Champagne and clear the store to allow him privacy, specifically when it was for clothes for projects under wraps. In the beginning of her employment, it was only ever Harry who would do the trying on of clothes, but as the two of them got acquainted and comfortable with each other, she found herself trying things Harry would pick out for her. At first, she would veto some items saying they were too expensive for her, but eventually she learned that her new salary covered whatever it was. She had always enjoyed designer labels and choosing to be a stylist meant she had nice clothes, but only working for Harry had caused her closet to double in size and triple in value.

“So we are looking for some trousers today,” she tells the worker at the store, reminding them of what she had already called ahead about. The employee nods and proceeds to lead them into the room where they had laid out an assortment of pants for Harry to pick from.

“What do you think of these?” Harry walks out and strikes a pose, popping one of his hips to the side and his hands on his hips. The pants strain around his thighs, but fit practically perfectly everywhere else. His slim waist is perfectly encircled by the fabric and he’s decided the sweater he was wearing didn’t match them and he’d rather go shirtless. This choice technically should allow her to solely focus on the pants, but it actually makes her focus that much more diverted. She makes a spinning motion with her pointer finger as she purses her lips. He takes a quick spin and the boot cut slightly flares with his movement. The pants are a dark brown with a single plaid crossing in a lighter brown. They are only lightly flared, which she prefered to the extreme flare that some of Harry’s suits had. She narrows her eyes at the pants to keep her gaze from shifting to the taut muscles of Harry’s arms and torso or the dark ink that licked over his skin in the beautiful designs of his choice.

“They’re nice,” she pulls up a picture of the top part of the outfit he was planning on wearing, “Do you think they match with this though?” Harry walks over to her seated position and bends to look at her phone. His skin radiates heat and the smell of his cologne and she sniffles slightly with her sensitive nose. His eyes flicker to her face when he notices her little noise, but returns to looking at the phone when she doesn’t spare him a glance. She felt his gaze on her, but couldn’t bring herself to look from the phone. She knew his proximity would make it even harder for her to keep her eyes off his naked torso. The expensive smell of Harry mixed with the expensive smell of the store was a lot to handle.

“Yeah...no. You think they’re not right,” she widens her eyes at Harry’s words when he pulls away. He turns to the mirror in the open dressing room and fiddles with the waistline of the pants. “I agree,” he finishes before stalking back into the room and shutting the heavy velvet curtain that worked as the door to it.

He tries on five more pairs of trousers and finally settles on two pairs for the two different listening parties. A heavier, wool-tweed pair that was dark brown and then a lighter brown tweed pair. He was still in the lighter pants as he stared into the mirror. He beckoned to Y/N, and she quickly set down the flute of Champagne she had been sipping at lazily as he admired himself.

“Is it possible for you to take it in a bit more,” he says in a hushed tone to her, not wanting the workers to overhear. They were helpful but if they overheard they would wait for the store to tailor the trousers and he preferred for Y/N to do it. He rubs at the waistline again and she moves closer, her hands going to his sides. Her fingertips graze the naked skin above the trousers and Harry shivers at the coldness of the new touch. She ghosts softly over the waistline herself and smooths the fabric until she’s pinching a small amount on each side. She hums, pulling back from Harry and looking at the fit of them now, examining whether that makes them look better.

Then she nods and smiles up at Harry, “Ever the slender waist,” he grins right back as she admires him. She knew how much he liked praise and she was happy to give it to him, especially when he was so deserving. “I’d say size down, but then your thighs and bum might strain the fabric too much.” His face turns to a smirk as she blushes at her words. She releases the fabric and takes a hand to pat Harry’s smooth chest before walking back to her seat on the lovely couch.

“You sure you don’t want to try anything on, Y/N? Saw some killer boots when we walked in that screamed you.” Harry calls from behind the curtain, presumably getting redressed. Her laugh comes through the curtain slightly muffled, yet still a sweet melody in Harry’s ears.

“Definitely not now, we’re leaving any minute. Plus, I’ve got plenty of Gucci boots, don’t even show me them or I’ll be tempted.”

His laughter rings through the curtains, loud and unrestrained. She smiles to herself, unable to discourage the pleasure that weaves through her at the sound. His presence in all the different ways she experienced it was instantly comforting.

When she arrives back to her London flat, she practically flops on her couch once she’s inside the door. Her luggage forgotten at the door, as she shrugs off her coat. It was around 7 am because she had chosen to take the red eye for some reason. She groaned as she thought about the day ahead of her. Even though Harry was halfway across the globe, she still had plenty of work to do. She had to finalize the outfits for the listening parties now that they had the pants to complete the looks. Then she had to start thinking about Harry’s December appearances. She had sent ahead his Late Late outfits that he had needed in Los Angeles for the pre-filming, but she still had to deal with the outfits for the live part of the show.

Today, she was set to go pick up the other pieces needed for the listening parties as well as items for the Graham Norton Show and Jingle Ball. She was most excited for her travels because that meant looking at brand new clothes that were perfect and gorgeous. She also knew she needed to spot clean Harry’s shirt, which didn’t spark as much joy in her tired mind.

The idea of the shirt staining with alcohol was what brought her out of her snuggling with her comfy couch. Sure, it couldn’t get that bad, but still she was a worrier and it would pain her if the iconic shirt got ruined. She padded back over to her luggage, now without her jacket or shoes. Her major suitcase got flipped on its side and she began to unzip it. It came open easily seeing as it was stuffed with her clothes and various items. She had to rummage a minute for Harry’s shirt that seemed to have run away inside the bag. Finally, the large white shirt made itself known and she grasped it happily.

As she looked over the stain near the collar of the shirt, her eyes traveled to a piece of fabric peeking out of her suitcase. It was a familiar blue, cream and white. A specific fabric she would never misplace, would never not recognize. Harry’s plaid Bode jacket. It was iconic and she loved it, but why did she have it in her suitcase. She definitely didn’t mean to have it, it’s genuinely just one of Harry’s jackets so it wouldn’t make sense for her to bring it back with the show's wardrobe. She tries to think back to yesterday, when she was still in New York. Thinking about why she would have it, she places the memories of Harry coming to her room, taking off his coat, and accidentally leaving it in her room all fit together. She must have just absentmindedly placed it in her suitcase without even realizing. She’s sure Harry wouldn’t mind, she’d shoot him a text, though, to tell him she had it. So he wouldn’t worry about whether he’d lost it or not.

When she gets ready for the day, she finds herself being drawn to blue and cream. Her outfit is understated and she just knows the jacket would finish the look. She loved that jacket and now that she had it, would it be a big deal if she wore it out. She figured it was fine. After she grabbed her purse, keys, and other essentials, she slipped on the coat. Harry was very broad shouldered and it hung oversized on her. She loved the look and snapped a selfie in the mirror before she headed out. While it felt a little narcissistic to constantly take photos of herself, she felt like as a stylist it was important to document her looks just as much as she documented her clients.

What she didn’t think about is just how much the rest of the world liked to document her client and those who were seen with her client. She didn’t think about how she had just been seen with Harry yesterday. That thought didn’t even cross her mind as she walked around the streets of London picking up her work. As she saw some photographers out and about (whom she assumed were for famous celebrities, not her). How it might seem with her wearing the Bode jacket Harry had worn on SNL two nights ago. The Bode jacket that there were only two of.

None of it crossed her mind. Not until it was the end of the day and she had a whole slew of texts from Harry’s manager. A few from Harry, and others but the other fifteen were solely from Jeff. She was a bad texter so as she walked into her flat and finally looked at her phone after putting down all of her garment bags her eyes went wide.

Please tell me you’re not out in London right now!

What are you wearing??

That cannot be Harry’s jacket Y/N

Seriously?

Please call me.

CALL ME. NOW.

- All from Jeff.

She grimaced. The others from her friends including Harry would have to be ignored right now. Even if Harry was her boss, Jeff was who she had to deal with when it came to public appearances and it didn’t seem like she could get around this one. Normally, she never had to deal with him, but it seems today wasn’t normal.

part 2

5K notes · View notes

marie-hoe · 3 years

Text

Don’t Ruin the Sofa

42 and 54 for poly evanstan please?

“Don’t ruin the sofa.” “Guess I’ll have to cum inside you then

“I think you forgot to lock the door, that means anyone could walk right in and see you like this.”

Words: 1166

Warnings: Smut, 18+, oral, unprotected sex, public, Seb in that Kimmel outfit, and Chris in those goddamn teal pants

Masterlist

“Baby, you look so good in that shirt,” you whispered to Seb as he sat in the makeup chair backstage for one of his interviews.

He chuckled as you walked back to the couch, sitting down as you watched your men prepare to discuss their new movie together.

Sebastian was wearing this delectable dark floral shirt with a blazer over it while Chris was wearing these devilish teal velvet pants, and together, they were making you lose your mind.

The makeup and hair stylists finished up, wishing the men well on their way out and you sighed softly, at least now you could clench your thighs together and allow your mind to roam in peace.

“You guys look really good,” you said boldly, interrupting their conversation. Sebastian laughed again, knowing you were saying it louder because you were needy, and Chris looked at you over his shoulder.

“You look good too, bubba,” he said with a smile as he stood up, tucking his shirt in before walking to the door. “‘M gonna go find my assistant to pick up dinner, any suggestions?”

Sebastian shook his head softly, legs propping up on the counter in front of him as you mumbled under your breath, “you.”

Chris smiled a tight lipped smile as he blushed, hearing your comment. He opened the door to walk out of it before pointing a finger at you and instructing Seb to, “take care of that before I do.”

Sebastian smirked at you through the mirror, but you rolled your eyes at Chris’ demand. You stood to your feet, feeling a pool of slick slide out as your thighs were no longer pressed tightly together, and you walked over to Sebastian.

He sat up in the director’s chair they used for makeup and hair, legs perched on the counter in front of him as he watched you intently, head tilted to the side. You placed a hand on his knees, tapping them as you looked at him pleadingly, his face plastered with a shit-eating smirk as he placed his feet on the rungs of the seat.

You moved yourself between his legs, hands pressed to his black slack covered thighs as they ran up closer to his crotch. He watched you steadily, body not reacting outwardly at your actions as you leaned up and kissed his lips.

Sebastian was usually one to take over a kiss, dominate it to put you in your place; however, this time, he simply kissed you back sweetly. You pouted at him, hands now fully grasping his slight bulge as he smiled at you, hand tucking your hair behind you ear.

“What is it baby? You need your pussy to be filled in the greenroom?” He taunted, eyes looking into yours with a glimmer of arrogance. You nodded slowly, fingers pulling the zipper down on his trousers before he stopped you. He grabbed your hand, pulling it away from him as he pushed you back and laid you on the couch.

You laid down eagerly, legs wrapping around his waist as you pulled the bottom of your dress up, exposing your bottom half to him. He chuckled, finger slipping passed your panties and into your slick before bringing it to your lips, “So wet... and just from our outfits, huh?”

You mewled as you hummed a response, tongue licking your essence off his finger as he tsked, shaking his head disapprovingly. “such a dumb slut our doll is.”

He brought himself to his knees, leveling his face with your pussy as he kissed the panties separating you from him, nudging his nose up to hit your clit. You moaned softly, hips grinding down into him as he moved your panties to the side and left a chaste kiss where you needed it most.

The door opened, revealing Chris in those damned velvet pants. You gasped, legs trying to close around Sebastian’s head to cover yourself, but he simply pushed them back open, not caring who could walk in to see you.

“I think you forgot to lock the door,” Chris said disapprovingly before realization hit him that it was excruciatingly hot. “That means anyone could walk right in and see you like that,” he finished, stalking his way closer to you as he began unzipping his fly.

You moaned as you opened your mouth for Chris, ready to be filled, and Sebastian laughed at you once more, mockingly adding, “Such a needy slut. She’s dripping because of our clothes, baby.”

Chris smiled, chuckling at you softly as your lips wrapped around his head, doe eyes looking up at him. “Such a needy cock slut, our baby girl is,” he said, practically echoing Sebastian’s earlier words.

Sebastian agreed, bringing his cock to your entrance before pushing his length inside you, groaning as he bottomed out and checked his watch. “Got 5 minutes, baby girl.”

“Don’t ruin the sofa; it’s not ours,” you mumbled against Chris’ cock before sticking it in your mouth.

Chris moaned as your tongue swirled around his cock, hand working on the length that wouldn’t fit as Sebastian chuckled. “Guess that means we’ll have to cum inside you then.”

Chris groaned, nodding at Seb’s words as he grabbed a handful of Sebastian’s hair and pulled him in to a harsh, dominated kiss. Sebastian snapped his hips into yours, thumb rubbing harshly into your clit, sole focus on making you cum on him.

You ground your hips downward, meeting his thrusts as you took Chris’ length into your throat, hand grabbing his balls tightly as he groaned and bucked his hips deeper.

You moaned against him, gagging as drool left the sides of your mouth, and he bucked into you one more time, seed spurting down your throat. Sebastian groaned at the sight, grabbing Chris to kiss him again, this time his tongue dominating Chris’.

After a few more thrusts of Seb’s hips, your mouth now swollen and slightly salty, you whined as you came, orgasm washing over you as you watched your lovers’ tongues intrude the other’s mouth. Sebastian groaned into Chris’ mouth, swallowing the sounds he made, as he felt your pussy let loose your fluids.

He pulled you by your hips down on his cock, holding you there while his cock grazed your cervix slightly, seed spurting inside your warm walls.

Chris leaned down and kissed your lips, tasting the aftertaste of his cum, as he stuffed his soft cock in his pants. “You gonna make it through the interview?” He laughed at you.

Sebastian chuckled, grabbing a napkin from the table and wiped the mess he made up as it came out of you. “She’ll be back here, so she can get herself worked up for us for when we go home,” he said with a wink as he pulled his zipper back up.

You grinned softly, pulling your dress back down as you flattened their hair back down and rearranged their shirts where they belonged. “Can’t help how hot my boyfriends are.”

——

tags: @harrysthiccthighss

#poly!evanstan #chris evans #sebastian stan #poly!evanstan smut #evanstan smut #chris evans smut #sebastian stan smut #chris evens x reader x sebastian stan #evanstan x reader #500 celebration #smut week #written by marie

509 notes · View notes

deceasedlxver · 3 years

Note

General boyfriend hc with Kou??👀👀

ofc bestie 😎

KOU MUKAMI BOYFRIEND HEADCANONS:

right off the bat, kou is the type of boyfriend who is your lover AND your best friend

y'all would gossip like a middle school girl group, constantly up to date with what's going on around the school or what's happening in the idol world and you'll even be talking about the demon world on occasions

"have you heard that karlheinz had THREE whole wives, gurl? i freaking know right! what an f-boy 🤚🏻🤚🏽"

and this man will also help you with very simple 'girly' things (even if you're not a girl or don't identify as one) he'll pick out your outfit, help you do your hair, ask to do your make up, teach you techniques he learned as an idol from his professional stylists and all that

i also 100% reckon you two would get your nails done together and get matching nails. like if you get your nails done a certain colour (let's just say pink) i think he would do it the exact same except i don't foresee him getting fake long nails, i think he'd just get them painted

OOF also him writing songs and performing songs for you??? even if his idol company doesn't agree for him to release it. he'll probably make a secret mix tape and give it to you as a present (he'll obviously want something in return for his generosity though)

i imagine you guys having a secret morse-code as well: when he is performing on stage or doing interviews he'll probably hold his hand up a certain way to show that he knows you're watching or he'll say a specific word which means "i love you mneko-chan"

kou is an idol and i don't think your relationship would be exclusive, but it's really for your own safety. the fan girls can get crazy sometimes and even though he's a vampire and 'they don't feel guilt' i do think he would feel very bad if anyone were to happen to you even if it's just minor, like bullying or name-calling

he tries to keep you out of his idol life as much as possible for that reason but he still somehow wants you invested in the things he does

kou does tend to switch up very easily but i do think he's much easier to manage than any of the sakamaki brothers. he has been through a lot and hasn't seeked out any guidance but he can be an amazing boyfriend in general.

he'll spoil you and joke around with you. you'd be that couple who annoys everyone (especially subaru) with how cute and lovey dovey you can be. you'll probably always quote memes and have the STUPIDEST inside jokes that make no sense to anyone else but you two and although he has his issues he'd be such a goofy ass cute ass boyfriend

the only way i can see you guys not working out is if you're someone who doesn't appreciate his effort of if you literally hate the idea of cats. man is a pussy love after all lol

i uSED TO THINK KOU WASN'T MY FAVOURITE BUT I THINK YOU JUST CHANGED MY MIND ANON 😭

let me know if you want it re-done uwu

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pingutats · 3 years

Note

For the “ways to say i love you” prompts, 43 please!

thank you for the request! from this list, prompt 43: "I picked these for you."

warnings: none! this is just fluff!

word count: 1.8k

. . . . .

This is definitely Harry’s domain.

Y/N hugs her shoulders as she stands in her bedroom-turned-dressing-room, staring at the rack of expensive clothes that have been left for her. Through the door, she can hear the noise of the crew bustling around her living room. This house has, of course, been the site of many Harry-hosted parties that had packed in a lot more people than there are present here today — despite that, this smaller group is threatening to become overwhelming for her.

She’s doing this for Harry. A couple of months ago, he was approached by AnOther Magazine to do a big feature with them — a kind of sequel to the one that he did when they were still called Another Man — and he’s been pouring his heart and soul into it since then. It feels like every single day, he’s been off chatting with a writer or meeting with the creative director. He dragged boxes out of storage to rifle through for mementos of his life as a solo artist last week. Y/N knows that some of their friends have been interviewed to talk about Harry. She’s pretty sure Stevie Nicks is one of them.

The centrepiece, though, is a photoshoot more intimate than he’s ever shared before. In the same way that the shoot set in his hometown years ago illustrated where he came from before he rocketed to stardom, this one will reveal who he is underneath all the make-up and glamour of fame.

Harry as he exists in private: in his home, with his girl, sharing this image of himself for the very first time.

Y/N was apprehensive at first — hell, Harry was too — but they’ve discussed it at length. He’s always been a private man, but his ethos is that honesty is integral to his art. He sings in detail about her in his music and puts that into the world with minimal censoring. This magazine feature, at its core, is just another artistic venture. He doesn’t want to hold back. When she understood it like that, it was easy for her to agree.

Her conviction that this is an important thing to do for Harry doesn’t stop the nerves, though. She’s never been a model, or even remotely a figure of interest beyond her connection to Harry. It’s his limelight that she’s stepping into. She can’t help but feel nervous about it.

The first outfit she’s wearing is a boldly patterned dress, custom-made by Gucci at Harry’s request. This isn’t the first time she’s wearing something this expensive (there are no compromises on fashion when you’re with Harry) but it still makes her feel like a fish out of water. She holds the hanger at arms-length for a moment, vaguely anxious that she might have put on weight since the fitting and it won’t fit her anymore, then carefully slips it off. She steps into it gingerly and shrugs it over her shoulders, then reaches behind her to pull the zip up as far as she can reach. She stands in front of the mirror and looks at her reflection, frowning.

Her make-up, which was done earlier, is colourful and dramatic. The point of this home shoot is to show the dichotomy between Harry’s celebrity persona and his private life, illustrated through the elaborate costuming inside their relatively normal home. She doesn’t recognise herself in it.

There’s a knock at the door, startling her out of her thoughts. She whips around, back straightening. “What is it?”

“Can I come in?” It’s Harry’s voice, and just those four short words in his gentle tone are enough to dissolve some of her anxiety.

She takes a deep breath, steadying herself into a calmer headspace. “Yeah,” she answers.

He opens the door discreetly and slips inside, careful not to reveal her to the people in the living room while she’s not properly dressed. She appreciates his caution. Although he’s apparently comfortable enough to walk around near-strangers half-naked—he’s only wearing his boxers right now—she definitely isn’t.

“Everything alright, darling?” he asks. Every step that brings him closer puts her more at ease. She’s always been an anxious person, but he’s like a drug to her. From the very first time they met, he’s been the person she feels most natural with. They just work. Things feel right with him.

She smiles at him. It’s a weak stretch of her lips, but a smile nonetheless. “Yeah. Can you zip me up, please?”

“Of course.”

She turns back around to face the mirror and reaches behind her head to pull her hair out of his way. His fingers are warm against bare skin of her back, finding the zipper and dragging it up, his knuckles brushing against her skin more than is probably necessary. He fixes the way the straps sit over her shoulders with the same attention to detail that she’s seen his stylists give for him a hundred times before. His lip is tucked between his teeth as he does so, glancing from the mirror back to her, his face the image of concentration.

Finally satisfied, he takes a step back and rakes his gaze up and down her figure. “Y’look gorgeous.”

She shrugs, staring at herself. “Thanks, H.”

“I mean it.” He plants a kiss on her cheek, holding her by the waist as they look at each other through their reflections. “Pretty dress for a pretty girl.”

Heat rises in her face and she drops her gaze to the floor. “Now you’re doing too much.”

He shakes his head. “‘M not. Promise I’m not.”

She hums, appraising their reflection with a frown. Even in his underwear, Harry is Harry, and she… She feels like she’s playing dress up in someone else’s wardrobe, dipping her toes into someone else’s life. Harry is at ease in a place like this but she certainly isn’t.

Harry seems to sense this. “Something the matter?” he asks her gently.

“No, just —“ she wrings her hands in front of her, searching for the words. “I don’t feel like me.”

He furrows his brow. “I know what you mean. ’S weird when you do all this—” he flutters his hand around the room, at the rack of clothes and towards the door where they can hear someone giving directions to shift the couch slightly to the left “—just to get a photo done. And I know you’re not used to it.” He squeezes her waist gently. “But you look beautiful. Just like you always do.”

She can’t suppress a small smile at that, bumping her head against Harry’s shoulder with a quietly mouthed, “Thank you.”

He turns his head to kiss her hair, then releases his grip on her waist and moves over to the rack of clothes. “But did y’see…” He bends down to pick up a plastic container marked Look 1 from the shelf at the bottom. He opens it up to reveal various pieces of jewellery inside, and delicately picks out a couple pieces with nimble fingers. “I picked these for you.”

They’re her earrings. More specifically, they’re the earrings that he gave her for their first anniversary. A couple of dangling pearls—he’d bought them during his obsession with the gems. They’re a sweet memento of that time of their lives, of the honeymoon phase that felt like it lasted forever, that never really fizzled out even to this day. They’re her favourites.

She realises her mouth has dropped open. “When did you sneak those in?” she asks.

He shrugs, smirking. “I have my ways. I’m sneaky.” He returns to his previous position standing behind her, nudging her hair behind her ear with his knuckles. “May I?”

She nods, trying not to shiver as his fingers brush against her ears.

“There we go,” he says, stepping back. “Is that a bit better?”

The girl in the mirror looks familiar now. Despite the make-up and the dress, she can see herself. The same face, framed by the same earrings, that has accompanied Harry through all sorts of days and nights. Today is just another one of those things. Something they’re doing, together, and isn’t that all she wants, for them to do everything together?

Being with Harry is a dream she never wants to wake up from. They’ve built a paradise together and now they get to share a tiny part of it with the world—not for the world to share in it, but to see just how beautiful it is.

There’s a little part of Y/N that hopes it makes the rest of the world jealous. They should be, she thinks.

“It’s perfect, H,” she tells him, glancing over her shoulder so she looks at his real face, not just his reflection. “Honestly. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me.” He looks proud of himself—his eyes are shining and his dimples are on display as he looks her up and down once more. “It’s all you.”

Y/N mirrors him, her gaze travelling down his body. She bites her lip.

Harry seems to remember suddenly that he’s only in his underwear—his hands fly to cover his thinly-clothed privates and he looks at her, his mouth open in a sly grin. “This is not the time,” he scolds, his shoulders shaking as he suppresses laughter.

Y/N rolls her eyes, grabbing him by the shoulder and pushing him to turn around. “Go get dressed, you dork.”

. . . . .

The suit that Harry wears is made out of the same material as Y/N’s dress, bright and bold colours. The photographer is accomodating of her nerves as he has them sit on the couch. The window is wide open to allow the natural light to illuminate their faces, and the Y/N can feel the warmth of the sun on her face. The sky is a brilliant blue. It’s a perfect day.

“Okay, look this way,” the photographer tells her, drawing her attention from the window to the camera. “A little closer, Harry.”

Harry shifts over, his thigh pressing against hers. His hand comes to rest on her knee, then lifts suddenly as if he’s remembered something. “Hang on a minute,” he says to the photographer, holding up a finger.

He twists around to face Y/N and carefully sweeps her hair back over her shoulder, tucking it behind her ear to ensure the pearl earring is on clear display. She smiles at him, which he returns in a quick unspoken exchange of gratitude and care.

“Alright,” Harry says, settling back to face the photographer. His hand finds Y/N’s and he squeezes it. “We’re good.”

The camera clicks and the flash goes off. Their hands remain joined on Harry’s lap.

. . . . .

hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, a reblog & any kind of message would be really appreciated. i'm open to any requests, from the prompt list linked above or from your own imagination, which you can send here. all my other writing is linked on my masterlist. have a lovely day!

#harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #fic

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hashtagartistlife · 3 years

Photo

IR hunger games AU

pt 4/???

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4

bonus comics under the cut + some more exposition

bonus cut 1:

bonus cut 2:

Recap of the story so far: yuzu gets picked as tribute for the hunger games. Ichigo manages to volunteer in her place. Rukia gets drawn to replace yuzu, and ichiruki end up being the tributes for district 12.

Ichiruki then meet urahara, their mentor, on the train to the capitol. On this train they may or may not have a conversation regarding the fact that Rukia saved Ichigo’s life as kids, and that they have consequently been dancing around each other for years now. I reserve the right to add more to this section later. Either way, they are awkward at best and frosty at worst as they enter the capitol.

At the capitol, they meet their stylists, uryuu and orihime. They are new stylists, who only graduated last year. This is their first official stylist job. This in itself is not that surprising, as district 12 was unpopular and often stuck with the inexperienced or not-quite-so-talented stylists. However, though uryuu and orihime are inexperienced, they are the furthest thing from untalented or unpopular - since they had been students, they have been somewhat of a rising star in the styling community. So, everyone is surprised when they both (separately) apply for the district 12 styling job, because they really could have had their pick.

Ishihime were both born and raised in the capitol, but their childhoods were far from the lavish, glamorous lifestyle commonly associated with capitol citizens. If the capitol had a caste system (which they do — it’s just unspoken, is all), they would be on the bottom rung — orihime grew up under her brother in as close to poverty as what you can get in the capitol, dreaming of the glitz and glamour of the upper crust life. Ryuuken, meanwhile, is very rich, but for whatever reasons uryuu ran away from home young and has been surviving on his own since. The fact that they both clawed their way up the ranks to become hunger game stylists out of pure talent and tenacity was a novelty for everyone, and contributed to their rising stardom.

Ishihime hadn’t met prior to their appointment as district 12 stylists, but they HAD heard of the other— it was a pleasant surprise to both of them that the other had also applied for the job. Though they only meet on the job, they click instantly and develop an easy working partnership to create a sensation with ichigo and rukia’s opening ceremony outfits. The outfits had a fire + ice theme, based on the fact that district 12 was a mining district (coal > fire, diamonds > ice).

Orihime applied to the district 12 job because of Ichigo— she saw him volunteering for his sister on TV and maybe fell a little bit in love with him, with the idea of him— how romantic, how heroic of him, how noble to be able to volunteer for his sister like that— the same age as her, and so handsome, too, she wants to be by his side, she wants to help him, she wants to make sure he looks his best at the games so that he can maximise his chances of returning to his sister… as stated previously Orihime grew up entrenched in the capitol mindset so she is not yet aware of how fucked up the whole system is. Uryuu, meanwhile, nobody is particularly sure why he applied for the job… he said something trite about wanting to use his skills where it’s most needed, how he likes a challenge, but orihime wonders if that’s really all there is to it— outwardly, he’s the picture perfect new graduate, enthusiastic, happy, proud of his job— but there are moments when they are being applauded for their latest creations when she thinks his expression goes a little sour… it’s always fleeting and gone so fast that she can never be sure however

Ichiruki, meanwhile, are the talk of the town. What with their stunning entrance at the opening ceremony and rukia’s public confession, all they have to do now is ride this wave of popularity all the way through the games for an easy win— unfortunately, they are both terribly bad at knowing how to manipulate this situation to their advantage. They both understand the gist of urahara’s plan — act like they’re falling in love— but neither of them understand WHY or HOW this will work. Why would the audience be invested in their falling in love? What exactly do they want to see? HOW do they act like they’re falling in love? (and, in Rukia’s case— how much of it should be pretend, how much of it is real?)

Enter Rangiku, the previous district 12 stylist. She and gin grew up in one of the districts, both hating the games and the capitol, until one day at 14 yrs old, gin said to her ‘i’m gonna make it so that you don’t have to be afraid of your name being called at the reapings no more’, volunteered as tribute, won the games, and promptly disappeared from her life.

Years later, rangiku sees gin on tv as the new host of the hunger games. She’s stunned and infuriated— she thought they both hates the capitol for what they did to the districts and now he’s WORKING for them? What the hell is he thinking? So rangiku packs up and moves to the capitol— her plan is to try to see him, to talk things out, surely there must be some kind of misunderstanding— but gin is all rich and famous now, and very heavily guarded, and she’s a nobody. There’s no way anyone will let her within ten feet of gin at all— so, rangiku decides she’s going to have to join the circus to talk to its head clown, and becomes a stylist.

Unfortunately, even as a stylist, she can’t get a word to him edgewise— and she’s starting to suspect that maybe it’s not that she can’t get to him, but that gin is actively avoiding her. She COULD climb the ranks until he can no longer avoid her— she is very good at this stylist gig, much to her surprise— but she doesn’t have the heart to do the backstabbing and bribing necessary for that. She is constantly warring between ‘I cannot pour my talent into something this morally bankrupt’ and ‘but maybe if I do my best, I’ll give my district’s kids a fighting chance’.

Eventually, by the time ichiruki step up, rangiku is so sick of having to dress kids up nicely for slaughter that she hands in her resignation, gives up on gin, and is getting ready to move back home to her district. That is, until she sees what an absolute record-breaker ichiruki are becoming, and start to hope again— that maybe, this year things will be different. That maybe, they will be different. That maybe, at least one of ‘her kids’ won’t go home in a coffin this year, will instead require outfits for a victory tour instead— a victory tour that is accompanied by their stylists… and the host.

So, rangiku comes back in an unofficial capacity to help ichiruki refine their act a bit more. But with less than one month left till the games commence, will what they come up with be enough to carry them through the entire games? And, even if it does— what will happen if at the end of it all, the two people who remain are ichigo and rukia— when only one person gets to return home alive?

Very unrelated point, but: ichigo apologised to rukia for grabbing her wrist post-tribute interview. Just wanted to clarify it is NOT alright to grab at people under any circumstances— ichigo did it in the heat of the moment, but when everything was cleared up he apologised for it. Had to mention this somewhere because it bothered me so much while drawing this installment— Ichigo you have NO room to be scolding the reporter for grabbing rukia, you did it not too long ago yourself! Having said that, that’s probably why he’s being very touchy about this— it was something that had been a sore point for him too very recently.

To be continued!

#bleach #ichiruki #bleach fanart #artist life #bleach art life #kurosaki ichigo #kuchiki rukia #hunger games au

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mcwriting · 3 years

Text

it's just part of the job

This is a once shot based on a request by @laurentrvn! I really loved the idea and tried to stick as closely to the prompt given, so I hope you enjoy!

Ship: Tom Holland x Reader

Word Count: 1248

Warnings: can't think of any, it's pure fluff

You were exhausted, to be frank.

It was just past 2 a.m. in yours and Tom's London home as he prepared for a late night TV interview based in Los Angeles.

The show was taping his part at 8 p.m. their time, which converted to 3 a.m. yours during the summer months.

Normally it wouldn't have been that big of a deal.

You were so proud of Tom for his upcoming film, but you were actually in the middle of shooting your own movie in the city, something you'd been busy doing all day long.

Crazy hours are just part of the job, though.

The interview wouldn't be long, so you'd agreed to stay up with your boyfriend and make sure he was well styled so he wouldn't have to call other people to the house in those early morning hours.

Thankfully, you were going to have a two-day work break anyways as your film's scripts went through some minor rewrites.

Because of the ridiculous hour, your stomach had decided that 2 a.m. was the perfect time for a snack, so while Tom dressed you had decided to scrounge around the kitchen until you found something good.

You brewed some tea in the meanwhile, both you and Tom deciding that this wasn't an ideal time for coffee, especially considering you hadn't slept in at least 20 hours.

You walked into the bedroom, a small tray in hand with the tea and snacks stacked carefully.

"Hey I got some fruit and some cookies but let me know if- woooow..." you said, brows raised once you saw Tom's outfit in the reflection of his full-length mirror.

He'd chosen to dress in a shirt you loved, a button up with thick vertical stripes tucked into some grey slacks, an outfit which was reminiscent of 70s fashion.

You had to laugh at the fact that he was even wearing pants, though. Unfortunately he'd learned the hard way what it was like to forgo pants on a zoom meeting, so he swore to wear them for any video call from now own.

Who knew, he might even be asked about it in his interview tonight after his boxers had previously gone viral.

Tom turned and smiled at your pleased reaction, walking towards you. After you set the tray down, he snaked an arm around your waist and planted one kiss on your forehead and another to your lips.

"Think I look good, eh?"

"I'm loving the fit, but we need to put a little makeup on you," you said, shimmying from his grip and disappearing into the bathroom to find the foundation his stylist had explicitly told him to use tonight.

When you returned, he was indulging in a chocolate chip cookie, the crumbs all over his mouth.

"While you finish that, I'm going to start on your forehead," you explained as you began dabbing a beauty blender along his hairline. After a few minutes, he had an even layer painted over his face and neck.

"Am I done now? I'm supposed to log onto the call soon," he pouted.

"Almost, I just need to swipe on a little blush and neutral eyeshadow and you'll be all set," you answered, focused on picking out a blush color that would look natural on camera.

"I don't even get why I need makeup. They're going to be seeing me from my shitty computer camera and office lights. I mean look at you. You're not wearing makeup and you look great!"

You paused brushing a light rouge over one cheek to give him a half lidded look.

"Nice try, but we both know I look like I was run over with a truck," you joked.

It's not like you were even trying to sound self-deprecating, it's just that you had been awake far too long after having done a physically taxing shoot all day.

The second you'd gotten home, you'd showered and gotten rid of any trace of makeup, leaving you bare faced with damp hair that wet the collar of your old t-shirt.

"Well I think you look beautiful," Tom reiterated, kissing your forehead again as you went to grab eyeshadow.

You hummed in response and quickly brushed a light tan color over his eyelids to complete his look.

"Okay, all done. You did a good job on you hair," you commented, still instinctively reaching up to reposition a curl.

"Well that's perfect, because I need to get logged on. Why don't you relax and I'll come get you when I'm done, yeah?"

You nodded and let him go, watching him head across the hall as you sat at your vanity, sipping on the tea you'd made for yourself.

Though it took almost 30 minutes of sound checking and ensuring a good connection, Tom's interview had only lasted about 10 minutes.

When asked about the time in London, he'd only had one answer:

"It's just part of the job"

As expected, he'd had to show off his pants and make sure everyone knew he was wearing them despite the wee morning hour. Also unsurprisingly, he'd been asked where y/n was, explaining her taxing day and praising her for helping him get ready.

Once he closed up his laptop, he got up and turned out the office light. He then untucked and unbuttoned his shirt, ready to put on some comfy clothes and get in bed.

"Hey I'm don-" he paused and stopped in the doorway, grinning.

In the 40 or so minutes since he'd left you, you'd fallen asleep with your head down on the vanity, a half-eaten cookie in hand and your hair splayed all around the desk.

"Darling, are you awake?" he asked in a whisper, his hand gently placed over your shoulder, to make sure that you weren't just resting your head.

When he got no response, he knew you were actually asleep.

Tom quickly removed his unbuttoned shirt and exchanged his slacks for sweatpants. He also haphazardly took a makeup wipe to his face, knowing that leaving makeup on his face would cause it to break out.

Once he was cleaned up, he came back into the room to take care of you, starting by removing the cookie from your hand and placing it back on the tray.

He sat you up, your head rolling backwards until his hand could catch it. Thankfully you hadn't scooted the seat forward at all, so all he had to do was hook an arm below your knees and the other around your back.

He stood with a little huff, your dead weight no match for his strength.

Though you were asleep, your head instinctively turned into his chest as he transferred you a few feet and laid you gently on the bed where he had folded back the covers.

The missing warmth of his skin awoke you as he shuffled to the other side of the bed, so you stretched and yawned.

"Sorry that I woke you love, I was trying to be gentle," he whispered, sliding onto the mattress as you rolled to face him, still exhausted.

"It's okay. How did it go?"

"Amazing of course," he punctuated the statement with a forehead kiss. "He asked what you were up to."

"Hmm. What did you say?" you asked, cozying up to Tom.

"I told him you were out partying while I worked all day, as usual," he joked.

You snorted, not having the energy to fully laugh at his joke.

"It's just part of the job," you retorted. You were starting to slip away again.

"G'night, Tom. Love you," you slurred hazily.

"Good night, darling. I love you, too."

A/N: Ugh this was so cute are you kidding me??? Pretty much all the credit goes to @laurentrvn like I said before. I was given pretty much the backbone of this fic and just filled in the missing pieces, so I hope it's what you were imagining with this!

Thanks for reading!

Permanent Tag List

Send a message or ask if you’d like to be added to my permanent or series taglists so I can verify you’ve been added!

@jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @agentnataliahofferson, @spider-babe, @justafangirlduh

#it's just part of the job #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot

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blu-joons · 3 years

Text

You Have History With A Member When You Start Working At BigHit ~ BTS Reaction

Jin:

Your body stopped when you saw who you’d been assigned to for the day, watching slowly as Jin’s head turned when he heard that the manager had arrived. “Oh,” he stuttered, frowning as he met your eyes.

“Are you sure there’s no one else?” You asked your boss.

“We’ll be fine,” Jin interrupted before he could respond, “it’s just a day, that’s all.”

“We’re professional, that’s it,” you snapped as your boss walked away, leading Jungkook down to the car park to drive to set.

He frowned, following a few paces behind you. “It’s been a while since I saw you Y/N, you look well,” he spoke up as you walked outside. “You can’t ignore me for the whole day.”

“You managed to ignore for weeks after our date, maybe I’ll take a leaf out of your book,” you huffed, “I don’t need to listen to any of your compliments anymore.”

Jin sighed, climbing into the car beside you, “if you want to pretend that we’re nothing today, that’s fine. But it won’t change what happened between us.”

“I’m your manager for a day as sick cover,” you reminded him, “after today, I don’t want to ever see or hear from you again Seokjin.”

“Alright, if that’s what you want.”

Yoongi:

He sighed as you continued to move around him as you fixed his hair for the photoshoot, keeping your lips tightly shut throughout so you didn’t have to speak to him. “We could use this time to talk about what happened.”

“Why would I want to talk about it?” You retaliated.

“You work here now, we’ll see a lot of each other,” he responded, “clearing the air could be good.”

“I’m here to do my job, trust me, if I knew I’d be working with you, I’d have gone,” you frowned, roughly brushing through his hair.

His head shook gently, “I know what I did was wrong, I’ve learnt a lot since then. I don’t want to be your boyfriend again, but I at least want to be civil with you.”

“For the sake of everyone else around us, I’ll say hello, but don’t ever expect more than that from me,” you warned him, fixing a few strands of hair.

Yoongi smiled, taking whatever he could get from you. “You’ve always held a place in my heart Y/N, nothing will ever change that for me.”

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you cheated on me,” you whispered, “I can forgive, but I can’t forget what you did.”

“I’d never expect you to either.”

Hoseok:

His eyes lit up as he looked over the outfit, you’d styled for him for the interview with the other members. His hands straightened out the shirt before looking back at you. “You always did know exactly what I liked.”

“Oh, do you two already know each other?” Your boss asked.

“Many years ago,” Hobi whispered, “but we just ended up on different paths.”

“You were my best friend,” you clarified, handing him a pair of shoes, “and then came fame, and you just forgot all about me.”

Your boss quickly walked away as she noticed the tension. “I never wanted to forget you,” Hobi smiled, “I just became too busy to spend any time with you anymore.”

“Just admit you found better friends and decided that you didn’t need me anymore,” you pleaded, “I don’t want to be here and have you play with me again.”

Hobi frowned, resting his hand against your arm. “We were friends for years Y/N, maybe this is someone’s way of trying to bring us back together.”

“I need time Hobi,” you admitted, “I’ve not seen you for years and now here you are. Maybe one day we’ll get back to our old place.”

“I’ll give you time, I promise.”

Namjoon:

You finished your routine one last time to show to TXT tomorrow, turning the stereo off just as the studio door opened. “Sorry, we’re booked in here now,” a voice spoke, feeling a shiver run down your spine as you recognised it.

“I’m just going,” you huffed, quickly picking up your things and hiding your face.

“I know it’s you,” Namjoon yelled out, “you can’t walk away from me and pretend Y/N.”

“I have nothing to say to you,” you frowned, revealing your face to him. “You were the one that told me I wouldn’t make it.”

He frowned, ruffling through his fringe. “You know I never meant it like that. I’m glad that you proved me wrong though, how long have you been working here?”

“A few months, long enough to be able to avoid you,” you snapped back at him, “I’ve always turned down the opportunities to work with you.”

Namjoon continued to sigh as the guilt ate away at him. “Don’t restrict your own career because of me, we can still be professional with this Y/N.”

“If you want to be professional, please just let me do my job. The studio’s all yours now,” you spoke, walking towards the door.

“Y/N, I really am proud of you.”

Jimin:

As soon as you heard the words BTS you stepped back from the row of trainees, trying desperately to hide your face. Their eyes looked around the room as they walked in, his eyes falling straight onto you. “Y/N,” he muttered.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” Namjoon sighed, walking around to shake hands.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” one of the trainees, smiled as the members followed behind him.

“What are you doing here?” A voice asked as Jimin walked straight over to you, moving you aware from the group. “You’re a trainee?”

You scoffed gently, “don’t sound so surprised. Just because you managed to achieve your dreams before I did, didn’t mean I wasn’t going to get here eventually.”

“I never thought you’d come here knowing I was here, that’s all,” he sighed, “I thought you’d join SM seeing as they offered you a contract too.”

Your head shook, feeling everyone’s eyes staring across at you. “I’m focussed on my dreams now Jimin, I’m not here to have my heart broken again.”

“I don’t want to break your heart, if you’ll let me, I’ll be your biggest fan. I always did support you,” he tried to comfort, “I never stopped.”

“Let’s see how today goes first.”

Taehyung:

He sat in the cafeteria as the team of stylists walked in, for weeks he’d had his eye on the group, feeling like a face was familiar. He stood up to get a drink, purposely colliding with the group, and the stylist at the back. “I knew it was you.”

“Don’t,” you frowned, quickly taking a step away from him.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he pointed out, refusing to move too far away from your side.

“Can you blame me?” You whispered, trying to keep things private, “you’re the last person I want to see now that I’m here.”

His eyes widened, “you’re here permanently? You could never ignore me forever Y/N, in the end we’d probably end up working together. Everyone knows each other here.”

“I would have found a way,” you tried to argue, “I’ve got dinner with my team right now, I don’t have the time to waste talking to you about why I’m here.”

Taehyung sighed once again, “can we find a convenient time to talk about things like adults? I want to put this past the both of us.”

“You never even said sorry Tae,” you frowned, catching up to your team, “that would have been a good start, but you never did.”

“You know I’m sorry, I mean it.”

Jungkook:

You gripped the steering wheel tighter as you watched all of the BTS boys walk out of the building, knowing they were heading straight for your car. You remained silent as they got in, hearing a “hello,” come from their leader.

“Hi,” you whispered back, unaware of Jungkook’s reaction behind you.

“You alright?” Taehyung asked, noticing the expression on Jungkook’s face.

“Yeah,” he stuttered, trying to peer through the gap and have a look at who was driving. “I thought I forgot something, but I found it.”

You knew he was looking in your direction, keeping your eyes firmly on the road. “Are you the new driver that they’ve bought in, or are you another temp?”

“I’m permanent,” you responded to the leader, hearing a familiar sigh come from the back of the car. “You guys do your thing; I’ll concentrate on the road.”

Jungkook glanced across once again, “how can you expect me to concentrate when you’re here Y/N?” He questioned, recognising the sound of your voice.

“That’s for you to figure out,” you sighed, not wanting to cause a scene around his friends, “you’re the reason we are the way that we are.”

“The way you are? What happened Kook?”

---

Masterlist

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geminisholland · 3 years

Text

i’m covered in you Tom Holland x actress!reader

a/n: whew i had fun with this!! i loved writing this so much! also, if you like star wars and want to give my other blog some love @makerkenobi i would appreciate that!! references to my fave song, ivy by miss swift

requests are open

warnings: cussing, angst, and a whole lotta fluff

word count: 2174

join my taglist!

bold and italics are text messages

italics are song lyrics

The hours spent on set between you and Tom had inevitably created a close bond for the two of you. There were many sleepless nights together, running scenes for hours on end before the director finally shot one they liked. You were each other’s rock during the whole process, Tom made a point to come over to your trailer before a particularly difficult scene, and provide support. You were newer to acting, and Tom helped guide you and give you advice during filming. It was safe to say that Tom was your best friend, and you were his. However, playing lovers on screen and having that chemistry was difficult for you to ignore. You knew that deep down, you had feelings for Tom, you just decided from the very beginning that you couldn’t pursue him. You wanted to make sure you established yourself as a professional, which you are.

You were professional for the entire filming process, never having a night where you drank too much and kissed him. Never. You were quite proud of that, because there were many opportunities where you could have. Tom was hard to read, anyways. You never knew how he was feeling, one minute he’d talk about some girl he likes, and the next he’s going on about how he just wants to stay single right now.

The press tour for this movie was coming along in just a few days, and you were doing your best to prepare. Mentally, that is. The press tour was going to have a lot of bonding time. Interviewers asking you questions every day, all day. Sitting next to Tom for hours on end just talking about each other and the movie. Being only a hotel room away from him. Celebrating the movie coming out with trips down to the hotel bar at midnight, you knew this was dangerous.

A ding from your phone made you snap out of your daze, as you picked it up to look at it.

Tom: Are you excited for the press tour or whattt

You: haha yesss i’m so excited & also kinda nervous?? idk why

Tom: I have that affect on people

You: shut up

You: it’s effect btw

Tom: No it isn’t

You: uhhh... yes it is dumbass

Tom: Shut up

Tom: I’ll see you in a few days in the best city ever

You: you’re only saying it’s the best city because it’s your city

Tom: Ya that’s why it’s the best

You: you’re so annoying i’ll see you soon

With that, you locked your phone, and resumed packing. You really only needed to pack pajamas and workout clothes, because all your outfits for the press tour were being brought in by your stylist. You really couldn’t complain about any of this, you got to play dress up for a month or so, hang out with Tom, and talk about a movie you’re really proud of. Oh, and also travel across the world. That part was pretty cool.

You flew into London a day early so you would have time to adjust to the time difference. Tom was kind enough to invite you to stay the night at his house before the two of you left for hotel rooms every night.

When you arrived, you were extremely tied, and didn’t have the energy to hang out with Tom’s entire family, and his roommates.

“Hey everyone,” You said as you walked into his house. Tom was behind you, carrying one of your bags.

“It’s so heavy,” He groaned out, and you rolled your eyes at him. He was never very subtle about what was on his mind.

“Hey y/n!” Harry called out. “We missed you!”

You looked around the room to see just about everyone that Tom knows sitting in his living room. You weren’t expecting to be met with at least ten people, right after you got off of a ten hour flight.

“Oh... hey!” You let out, your eyes were wide with shock. You were really tired, but didn’t want to be rude. “How is everyone?”

You made your way around, saying hello to everyone, as Tom put away your luggage in the guest room. He came downstairs, and you turned around to look at him. He had the biggest smile on his face, he loved seeing you with everyone. Of course, you had already met and hung out with his family and friends, but you were special to him; which means you getting along with his family and friends was really important to him.

“Hey, Tom,” You said. “Can we talk real quick?”

“Of course, darling,” He responded. You grabbed his arm, leading him out to the backyard so you could talk in private.

“That was really nice of you to have everyone here,” You acknowledged. You looked up at him as he flashed you a grin. He was overflowing with excitement, it had been a few months since you last saw each other in person.

“Everyone missed you,” He explained. “Myself included.”

“I missed you too, Tom.” You looked up at him, your arms were still interlocked together as you stood on the gravel, overlooking his backyard.

“I don’t want to be rude,” You started. He furrowed his brows as you continued, “But I’m really exhausted, and I think I need to just take a little nap. Can everyone come back for dinner?”

“Oh, of course!” He exclaimed. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t even thinking- I was just so excited you were coming, and everyone else was too I ju-“

“Tom, it’s okay,” You smiled at him. He relaxed as your eyes met. “I’m really appreciative, Thank you for doing this. I just need some sleep right now.”

“Of course,” He nodded. The two of you went back inside, and Tom had asked everyone to come back later to give you some time to unwind. You walked into the guest room he had made for you, and laid down on the bed, not bothering to get under the covers as you drifted off to sleep.

Having dinner with everyone later was extremely fun, and you were feeling like yourself again. The entire stay at Tom’s house was incredible, the two of you messed around a lot, but at the end of the day he was really a great friend. The morning you two were getting ready to leave for the press tour, he brought up tea to your room. It was the little things, you thought.

That day consisted of driving to the hotel, getting ready for interviews, and talking a lot about the movie. The two of you ended up in the hotel bar later that night, starting off the press tour by getting drunk. There were multiple days of this; you went from England, to France, to Germany, Spain, everywhere. You and Tom were having so much fun, all you did was talk in interviews, eat good food, sightsee, and get drunk. It was magical, actually. But everything changed when you went to Italy.

“We have Y/N Y/L/N and Tom Holland here, promoting their new movie,” The interviewer spoke into the camera. You and Tom sat beside each other, smiling as they continued to talk and ask questions.

“Was this movie more difficult to film, Tom? Because of how dark it is?” She asked, and Tom nodded his head.

“Oh, definitely,” He began. “I had a hard time with scenes, but luckily I have an amazing costar who helped me out with them.” He placed his hand on your shoulder as he looked over at you.

“And you, y/n?” She started. “It was also difficult?”

You nodded your head, “It’s definitely something I’ve never done before.” All three of you laughed before you continued. “Yeah, it was very difficult, actually. I’m very lucky Tom was there, there were a lot of tears- on and off screen!”

The three of you let out a laugh again, and Tom took his hand off your shoulder, and it fell onto your lower back. You gave him a quick look before the interviewer continued to ask questions.

“Because this movie is so dark, I thought it would be fun to ask some fun, lighthearted questions!”

You and Tom nodded, and she started to begin.

“What are you favorite colors?”

“Blue,” You let out.

“Green,” Tom responded.

The questions kept coming, and you and Tom were having a lot of fun with them. It was something different, and you liked that. Then, she asked the question that changed everything.

“What song reminds you of the other person?” She asked. You and Tom looked at each other, thrown off by what was just asked.

“Uhh,” Tom started. “I think I’d have to say Mr. Blue Sky by Electric Light Orchestra.”

You laughed, knowing why he said this.

“We had a lot of dance parties in the hair and makeup trailer to this song,” Tom answered. You nodded your head.

“And you, y/n, what song reminds you of Tom?”

You hesitated, you knew what song he reminded you of, you just were scared to say it out loud.

“Umm,” You drifted off. Tom stared at you, waiting for your answer. “I don’t know why, but my brain is saying ‘Ivy’ by Taylor Swift.”

You and Tom looked at each other, he looked confused; raising an eyebrow to indicate his confusion. The interviewer cleared her throat, then changed the subject. You spent the whole interview on edge, Tom kept giving you the side eye, and you knew you were going to have a conversation about it after.

Except after wasn’t until much later, you had at least three more interviews to do that day. When this interview ended, you didn’t have any time to chat with him. Your makeup artists rushed over to do touch-ups before the next interviewer walked in.

You were in agony, you wanted so badly to talk to him about this, but the two of you had no time alone. You were doing your best to not look at him, you couldn’t make eye contact right now.

Finally, you wrapped up the interviews for the day, and you and Tom started heading to your hotel rooms.

“What was that?” He asked, breaking the awkward silence as you walked back to you rooms.

“What was what?” You played dumb, but still looked at the ground.

“Look at me,” He demanded. You looked up at him, he was taller than you, and you were already in a vulnerable position. “You told me that ‘Ivy’ was a song that made you feel like you were in love, do you not remember that? You said that when we were filming.”

“I remember.”

“Then what the fuck was that?”

You breathed in, your heart was racing and you started to sweat. You were growing anxious. You looked behind him to see your hotel room number, you were hoping you could escape this. Maybe this wasn’t healthy, you thought. Running away from your problems. You just couldn’t handle him saying anything other than that he feels the same for you. You tried to move forward, but he blocked you.

“Don’t run away from me,” He growled out.

“Fine,” You said. “What do you want me to say?”

“What you meant,” Tom responded. He started to back up, so he was against the wall right next to your hotel door. You stood across from him, on the other side of the door.

“What I meant,” You were stalling. He stared at you, waiting for you to response.

You couldn’t look away, though.

So yeah, it’s a fire, it’s a goddamn blaze in the dark and you started it. You started it.

Your eyes met each other, and you started to moved your way closer to him. He started walking towards you, your bodies inches apart.

So yeah, it’s a war, it’s the goddamn fight of my life and you started it. You started it.

You would do anything for him, anything. He breathed out, and you felt his breath on your face.

“I love you,” You whispered. You nodded your head, looking down at the ground. You couldn’t even look him in the face. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at him. He had a smile on his face.

“Oh, y/n, I love you too,” He said. You laughed, but was abruptly cut off by him smashing his lips into yours. You brought one hand to his neck, the other to your back pocket, trying to find the hotel room key. You stumbled, Tom was closing in on you. There was no space left between your bodies, and you were on fire. His hands were in your hair, and he was pushing you up against the wall. You giggled, you were struggling to put the key into the slot of the door, but Tom ripped it out of your hands and shoved it in the slot. He opened the door, then picked you up, taking you into your hotel room.

Now I’m covered in you.

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