#but for me at my gig my bra cost too much to just get ditched after wearing it one time

[pjisskullourful]

Omg yes and y/n leaves hickeys on his lower abdomen right above and around his cock and she loves that the next shows outfit it low low rise and everyone is gonna see the hickeys

i love this idea so much tht i took a lil stab at writing it while im lying in bed. but i an so tired that i didnt get much further than 400words

hope yall like what i got sofar& i hope i'll have the energy to work on it again soon

its not proofread, im literally struggling to keep my eyes open, dont judge me

definitely accepting title suggestions

This wasn't the first time you had watched a Måneskin concert, in the six months that you had been dating Damiano you had seen a bunch of their live shows.

But you were still surprised by how the crowd responded to him. He could keep them so consistently excited, they were captivated by every move, screaming with complete abandon. From your spot backstage, you could see some signs being held up, and most of them were explicit in nature. Then the bras went flying at him, launched through the air to land at his feet, unprompted. How much had those bras cost?

It was a strange notion to think that yours wasn't the only bra he would touch or remove tonight. This intimate act was offered so freely to him and by a large number of people (you imagined there were more pieces of lingerie that hadn't been thrown hard enough to make it to the stage). They were willing to part with their possessions for a shot at intimacy with him.

Everyone wants to fuck him. This wasn't a brand new concept to you. But tonight the knowledge came with some extra weight. Your fingers curled into your palms until you could feel the nails pressing on the skin as you wondered what they were doing to him in their fantasies.

You had the rest of the gig to move away from this jealousy. Eventually you could keep your eyes off of the crowd, instead watching for the fun little subtleties in his performance. You kept reminding yourself that you were the only one who got to have him. But simply thinking it didn't feel good enough after a while, you needed to act.

You were upon him as soon as he got off stage, coming into this private area, covered in so much sweat that his bare torso glistened. Usually you greeted him with a bottle of water, but that wasn't going to cut it tonight. You threw your arms around him, feeling like you had been waiting days to kiss him. He didn't resist, his arms moving around you as he kissed you back. He didn't prioritise catching his breath, just letting you enjoy his mouth. The activity of so many people backstage carried on without any input from either of you.

“It was a good show?” He asked, stealing more kisses in the quick pauses between words. “Did you have fun?”

You nodded, dragging your fingers over his scalp. “Uh-huh. But the real fun is just starting.”

[who-is-olivia]

Track 6. Only Angel

Harry Styles x OC

Olivia has to perform in the Victoria Secret Fashion Show but struggles to deal with her mental health. [3.7k]

Genre: fluff, angst

Warnings: nudity, sexual language, mental health struggles

December 2014

  They hadn't been on speaking terms.

  Two years ago, Olivia had a breakdown and decided to go back to her hometown in Brazil, right when One Direction was set to perform on Madison Square Garden. They split up to give her room to recover and it was working... until Taylor came into the picture.

  Harry never regretted the choices he made, he knew he would be miserable with Taylor knowing that Oli was just around the corner. So he broke up with her on the day they were set to travel to the Caribbean. It was very harsh on her so it’s understandable she wouldn’t take it nicely.

  Now, Oli and Frank have to perform on the Victoria Secret Fashion Show right after Taylor.  It’s an honor, Olivia will introduce two Brazilian models wearing a special bra thing, she’s gonna be wearing a beautiful lingerie piece, but she can’t control her nerves efficiently enough to enjoy the opportunity.

  This is the last rehearsal before the big performance, they mark the steps along with the sound check and the last costume fitting all at the same time. Frank’s standing around with his guitar waiting for the production’s queue to dismount while Oli leans over Nadine’s phone to watch a short news outlet on Twitter hyping the show tomorrow.

“... but the supermodels are not the highlight of the show, instead is someone who won’t even walk the stage: Harry Styles is the talk of the town as tomorrow both his ex and his current girlfriend will take the stage one after the other. Who do you think will deliver the best performance? Comment down below and don’t forget to subscribe-“

“This is bullshit” Oli shakes her shoulder trying to seem unfazed but secretly crumbling in anxiety.

“Total bullshit, I’m sorry you had to watch this-“ Nadine revolts.

“No, it’s fine, I’m just gonna get my stuff-“

“Hey, do they have extra wings?” Frank asks from the other end of the stage.

“I don’t think so, why?”

“I was dying to wear wings” he grunts and Oli rolls her eyes.

“You can wear mine after I walk the stage” Candice winks at him teasingly.

“Frank, we have bigger fish to fry” she walks up to him, leaving the girls to themselves. “We should call this off”

“Wha-Why?!”

“Because it’s drawing too much negative attention, I don’t need that at this point” she fiddles with her fingers, desperate for a cigarette.

“Oli, this is huge for the us, we can’t bail out”

“Frankie, please”

“No bug, I’m sorry” he pats her shoulder and walks away. From the corner of her eye she notices someone familiar approaching.

“Hey there, crazy!” Zayn nods.

“Holy shit, what are you doing here?” she jumps down the stage and lands in his hug. Apart from Harry, Zayn is the only 1D member she’s got to befriend. Nothing against the other boys, they all speak to each other, but he’s her actual friend. Doesn’t hurt that she got to work a lot with his girlfriend’s band recently.

“Harry told me you’d be here, I thought I’d give you a ride”

“Perfect! Let me get my things-“

“What about Frank?”

“He’ll find a place to sleep tonight” she chuckles.

  Since the show’s in London, she at least gets the comfort of staying at Harry’s place. Although they share a nice flat in New York, he needs a place in London due to the label and also to see his family. To ease their expenses, he bought a smaller place that she hasn't seen yet. Harry feels quite lonely in it, and having the expectation of her visit did nothing for his internal peace.

  On the way there, she and Zayn share a couple smokes and make small talk, planning a few tattoos while she’s in town. Soon enough they arrive and there he is, waiting to open her door for her.

“Hey love” he smiles, pulling her out of the car and into his loving embrace. At the very sight of him a huge weight is lifted from her shoulders. “Thanks mate, appreciate it”

“No worry, we’ll catch up later, eh?”

“I’ll text you, bye Zayn!”

  As he drives down the lane, Harry walks with an arm around her waist up to the flat where her things are already in place. With that out of the way, they head straight to the shower.

  He presses her naked body against the wall, her wet chest against his as their lips clash in a sensuous patient kiss. His small pecks fall to her jaw and down her neck as his wet hair tickles her, distracting her from the pleasure he’s giving.

“Haz?”

“Hm?” he hums in her sweet spot.

“Do you think I should do the gig?”

Harry stops kissing her, bringing his gaze back to her and sighing worriedly. “What could possibly make you not do it?”

“Everyone keeps speculating about the performance, they keep comparing me to Taylor and I’m just...” she cracks, hiding her face on his wet neck. Harry strokes the back of her head and shushes her tenderly, trying to get a glimpse of her.

“If you don’t wanna do it, don’t do it love. You can tell everyone you’re feeling sick and just stay here with me”  

“Yeah, but it would be amazing for Frank and I and it’s been really amazing to meet all the models and spending some time with Nadine...”

“Nadine’s great”

“She’s the fucking best” he relaxes at the sight of her smile.

“Whatever you wanna do, I’ll have your back, alright?” she nods and he leans in to kiss her playfully.

  They dry up and head to the bed, exhausted. Before she arrived, he was craving for her, desperately. He would remember their times together and twitch in his pants at the thought of it, always keeping in mind that she was x days away from coming home and putting away his misery. But having her in his arms so fragile, so unprepared, it felt wrong and he had to stop. What he feels for her is not only physical and he can’t let her emotional needs unattended.

  Oli falls asleep curled up to his side, one of her legs straddled around his waist, breathing calmly on his chest. He takes a little longer to doze off just watching her peaceful sleep, the lovely way her parted lips blow against his shirt and her eyelids twitch while she’s having a dream. Her hair is wrapped in a light pink silk sheet, soaked in coconut oil, and he can’t resist burying his nose on it and taking in the sweet scent. He loves her so much it burns, and seeing her anguish feels like walking with a knife craved in his heart, he wishes he could make it all go away... so he tries something stupid.

  At approximately 2:00am, he calls Frank.

“Aren’t you calling a bit late?” he growls on the other end of the line.

“Hey, I’m sorry, there’s just something that’s not letting me sleep”

“Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”

“Probably can, I just wanted to clear my head about this” he excuses, feeling like he’s already drawing towards the unwanted results with this call. “You and Oli have to perform tomorrow at all costs?”

“Look man... I know she’s stressed out, all that bad press is getting under her skin but after we ditched Fiona and Gina we haven't been selling, at all, and we need the show if we want to stay signed for another year”

“Yeah, but aren’t you scared she’ll just... lose it?”

“I am, I still feel guilty about her breakdown... but that’s the job, she loves it, the good and the bad. Trust me, she’ll be amazing tomorrow, you won’t tell the difference between her and an angel”

“I bet I won’t... night, Frank” he hangs up. Frank is a level-headed guy, he must have thought this through already and taken the most logical conclusion but deep down it doesn’t feel right. Anyways, Harry quits his crusade to spare her and returns to the bedroom, settling in her arms again.

  But their domestic bliss is cut short by the day’s schedule. At 11:00am sharp she’s already getting her nails done and her braids fixed at Harry’s while he chats with everyone who’s busy. However, he notices Olivia is dead silent – which is very unusual.

“Guys” he calls after the nails and hair are done, “can I steal her for a second?”

“Sure... don’t mess her up!”

“I promise” he leads them to the door and shuts it, turning to where she has her head hidden behind her knees. “Love, please don’t let it get in your head”

“Too bad” she leans on her freshly manicured hands and he can see tears on the corner of her eyes.

That’s the last drop. “Hey, look at me” he tips her chin so she looks at him reluctantly. “You can both do great, it’s not a race, no matter what the bloody papers say”

“I know”

“Do you?”

She sighs, dropping her head on his palm. “No”

“Then you have to believe me, just do your best” he soothes, stroking her hair, “and if you can’t, your 50% is already bloody incredible-“

“Haz! Shut up” she laughs sadly, wiping the little droplets from her eyelids. To have her at least smiling is enough.

“I love you, alright?” she nods, “Trust me on this one, you’ll be fucking amazing”

  They both get pampered and ready to the red carpet, as usual arriving in grand fashion. He leaves the car first then opens the door to help her out, making a huge scene as she gets up on her heels and throws her thin Havana twists out of her face gently, which is quite a spectacle to the paparazzi. Once she feels the luxurious climate, her attitude shifts and she immediately grows more confident. She welcomes Harry’s arm around her waist and supports her wrist on his shoulder, staring at the cameras with a focused glance. He can feel it, her posture changes, she looks powerful, he can’t hide his gobsmacked grin at showing the world how intimidating and formidable is the woman who literally owns his heart and soul.

  Once the photographs are over, they walk to the dressing room together.

“Mr. Styles, you can’t go in” a producer holds him back.

Olivia frowns at her. “What?”

“This area is just for performers and models, you can’t go in”

“Can’t he come to my dressing room?”

“I’m sorry, it’s not allowed-“

“It’s ok” he interrupts, knowing pretty well it’s what he set up to surprise her later on. When she steps back, he takes Oli by the hand and hugs her tightly, pulling her close enough so he can whisper in her ear. “No matter how many people step on that stage tonight, you’re the only one I see, alright?”

She smirks. “You better...”

“You’re the sexiest, most talented person I know, you’re gonna be amazing”

“I hope so” she leans into him, cupping his cheek in a passionate kiss that catches him completely off-guard.

“I’ll be on the front row” he says a bit out of breath before letting her go.

  Once she turns towards her dressing room, she sees her standing there: tall, slim, fair, blonde, piercing blue eyes following her every step. Not willing to make another scene, she salutes her with two fingers in a friendly gesture, and in reply she smiles politely. Their interaction ends there.

  On her dressing room, Frank is already dressing up and strangely giggly.

“Candice is giving me her wings after the first run!” he cheers, making it really hard for the stylist to work on his outfit.

“You’re winning already then” she mocks, pulling her dress straps down and asking for Frank’s help to unzip the rest. She’s not used with the rest of the backup band so she awkwardly slides to one of the changing booths. “Where is Morgan? The show’s about to start”

  While she waits for their agent, she quickly puts on the black combo of hot pants, torn t-shirt, up the knee boots and a boa. At some point she hears something above the noise of the backup band tuning their instruments and everyone shuts up.

  The show starts.

  Taylor is the first one to perform, walking down the catwalk with some of the biggest models in the industry. They run to the side stage to watch them but the producers don’t let anyone get on the way of the running models, so she has to watch on the TV’s spread across the backstage. Taylor’s presentation is straight up perfect, she moves like fucking royalty and interacts naturally with all the models – she looks so good she might as well be mistaken for one. Oli’s legs begin to shake as the song hits the second chorus.

  Fortunately, there are two other performers watching, and they come to greet her.

“Hey Oli” Andrew is the first, thank god for a familiar face. They used to hang out after rehearsals, he’s a giant dork who’s also not used to fame. Also, his poems make her cry all the time.

“Andy! I’m passing out!”

“Wow, hang on” he holds her by the shoulders.

“I can’t follow up, everyone’s talking about it-“

“Hey, what you’re talking about? You rehearsed this, you’re gonna walk down that stage and be fucking incredible” he talks her down in that convoluted Irish accent of his.

  From the front row, Harry nervously watches top models in tiny clothes pass one after the other, trying to focus on anything else but Taylor on that moment. Every line she sings feels like she’s spitting on him. A show that lasts minutes feels like hours, and when it finally ends it’s time for Olivia.

“Holy shit” she breaths out raggedly.

“Do you want some water?” Ariana asks.

“Where’s Frank?” Oli pleads, seeing black dots on her peripheral vision.  

Frank, who had been talking to some of the models, promptly excuses himself. “You ok?” she barely hears through her thumping ears.

“I’m having a panic attack...”

“Hey, let me handle this” she hears her voice distantly, as if she’s drowning on her heartbeat. “Come with me” Taylor helps her up and takes her to one of the bathrooms, just the two of them.

  She pulls her hair out of her face and shoves it over one shoulder, helping her lean over the sink in case she feels like throwing up. She then wets her hand and throws some cold water on the back of her neck.

“Breath in, hold, then breath out, just like me” she insists. Olivia closes her eyes, breathes in, holds, then breathes out, time and time again until she can grasp her surroundings. Slowly, the thumping on her ears recedes and she can actually feel herself again. “Better?”

“Yeah...”, she takes one last deep breath, “thank you”

“Don’t worry, I’ve been there” she dries her hand on a paper towel.

Oli sighs heavily, “I don’t know if I can pull this off”

“Of course you can” Taylor counters, “Just think: you’ll be on stage with your brother, singing a song you already sang a hundred times, your fans will love it, the models will love it... and Harry’s on the front row, he’ll love it anyway”

She hesitates before starting, “I’m sorry about what happened between you”

“Don’t... I’m actually glad it’s over” Taylor looks down and nods her head, trying to figure out her next words. “Sure, I didn’t like the way it ended but I was just so anxious around him, I feel like I can breath now, it’s so funny... when I was with him I was always so nervous, afraid to say the wrong thing or do the wrong thing, like you were just then” she points to the door, “but you’re... effortless together. I wish I had something like that in my life”

“Hey” she looks up at her, “these things just... happen, I can’t explain it. Just do your thing and wait for someone to show up who happens to like you just like this. It might take a while but it’s worth it”

Taylor smiles, pulling her in for a tight hug. Olivia relaxes on her shoulder, welcoming all the energy she lets out. “I think you should go out there and rock that stage” she whispers encouragingly. “It doesn’t matter what people will say tomorrow, we know what’s up, they never will”

Olivia nods, taking a bit of distance. “Thank you so much” she squeezes Taylor’s hands.

“You’re welcome... now let’s go”

  The show-runner asks for the audience to be patient as they’re having a few technical difficulties and Harry is this close to invading the backstage and checking on Oli. His knee bops up and down frantically, looking at Liam beside him for guidance. At the first sign of applause, his eyes shoot up at the stage and there she is. Frank’s guitar riff fills the room as they walk in, him leading the way with his tall angel wings, sunglasses and skirt, his guitar wailing as if calling for Olivia to join. Then she does, parading to the beat until she reaches Frank.

“How’re you feeling tonight?!” she calls before getting her queue.

  He couldn’t look away even if his eyes were gauged off. His breathing increases, his body responding to the feast upon the stage. Two Brazilian models pass in front of her, he doesn’t look away. The entire cast of the show walks up but still, he doesn’t look away. The way her vocals reach all the way to the back of the venue makes the hairs on the back of his neck rise. She looks so powerful yet so ingenue, as if the way her hips swing is completely pure.

  But there’s nothing pure about her. The way she dances with Frank’s guitar solo, the way she smiles and bops with the models, how her braids barely cover her bare ass cheeks, it’s too much. All he can think about is ripping that lingerie with his teeth and let her encircle him with that boa, he wants to be at her mercy.

  At some point, their gazes meet and he feels a bit love drunk, lost in her beauty. She walks to the edge of the stage closest to him and blows him a kiss and he catches it in the air, keeping it on his internal pocket and winking back at her. He wants her to kiss him, he wants her to lose all decorum and just disgrace him right then and there.  

  But just as it began it ended. As she takes a bow and walks out with one of the models, Harry applauds on his feet. She smiles proudly, holding Frank on a side hug and bowing once again. She did it! It was amazing, sexy, vibrant... and Harry can’t wait to see her, not another ten seconds.

  She’s welcomed in the backstage with thunderous applause. After all, she did it! She was super scared but soldiered on and now that’ll live in history as one of her best performances ever. As soon as the clapping dies, she walks up to Taylor and hugs her tightly.

“Thank you for everything” she whispers through a smile.

“You were a-mazing!” Taylor cheers getting some distance between them and then hitching. Oli follows her gaze and finds Harry standing awkwardly in the middle of the commotion.

“Haz? I thought you couldn’t get in”

“Yeah, don’t say it too loud” he mocks, pulling a flower bouquet from behind his back. Olivia chuckles amusedly and runs to his embrace, leaving a very uncomfortable Taylor standing empty-handed.

“You were something else tonight” he whispers to her and hands her the flowers. Sensing the eyes around them, she restricts her displays of affection to a small kiss on his cheek. “How about we skip the after-party and just grab a bite with the band?”

“Sure, I just wanna watch Andy’s then we can go”

“Alright” he nods and his gaze accidentally catches Taylor’s. It would be extremely impolite to ignore her after looking her straight in the eyes so, for education’s sake, he walks up to her. “Ms. Swift”

“Mr. Styles” she replies with the same cocky attitude.

“It’s nice to see you”

“You too” they exchange a kiss in the cheek and part ways. Once Harry’s got his back towards her, Olivia and Taylor exchange a knowing wink.

  Before they watch Andrew’s performance, Oli and Harry head to her and Frank’s empty dressing room. As she walks in first to get the flowers on a pot, Harry locks the door behind him and moves to hug her waist. She closes her eyes in delight, feeling his desperate lips already trace her shoulder up to the crook of her neck.

“You looked really fucking sexy in that stage” he mumbles, taking gentle hold of her neck.

“I could tell, you were giving me bedroom eyes from the moment I stepped in” she mocks, stroking the hand that holds her on a choke-hold before turning inside his grasp and kissing him teasingly, making him dangle on the edge of sanity. He presses his parted lips on her but she pulls away slightly, licking a single strip of his bottom lip before bitting it lightly and kissing him back.

“Can’t wait ‘til bedroom love”

“Yeah? What a shame” she pushes him away playfully, “I’m not doing anything here with a zillion people outside”

“Fuck’s sake” he dramatically flops down into the sofa, “you’re killing me, honestly”

“Dead men can’t talk!” she replies, changing into her party dress and overcoat.

  Harry keeps groaning on the sofa, calling out for her until she’s ready. She leans over the back of the sofa and hugs his shoulders, he holds on to her arms for reassurance. Looking down, she notices he’s a bit too excited to go out in public, so she has an epiphany...

“... you got that James Dean daydream look in you eyes” she sings.

“Oh, fuck you-“

“And I’ve got that red lip classic thing that you like”

“Oli, don’t” he whimpers through a struggled laugh.

“We never go out of Style... es” with that one improv, he loses it, laughing his life away. She pecks his sweet cheeks over and over, leaving several dark-brown stains on his fair skin. “Come on, you’re good to go”

“Thanks, angel”

She narrows her eyes, hand hovering over the lock before grinning arrogantly, “I like that”

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