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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years

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“you make me so angry sometimes”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He snickers, “Y’like it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“S’a little rude.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Seriously. What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t see it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So which am I?” She widens her eyes.

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

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

He laughs. “Thanks,” he drawls out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re late!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do not,” she warned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ve got it,” Y/N says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s my job to touch you, Harry.”

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

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

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

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

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

He nods again, muttering “Fair, fair.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He pauses again and she continues to work silently.

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

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

“Pardon?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop that,” She muttered.

“Stop what?” He smiles wider.

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

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

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

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

She rolls her eyes, “Whatever, dude.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She tilts her head at the last part. He talked about her to his wife. Did he really count her as that close of a friend? She was just a makeup artist and he was a producer… She glances at Harry and he gives away nothing. His jaw looks extra prominent and she knows it’s because he’s clenching it. He did that when he was focused or angry, remembering it bulging on the first day they met and how clenched it had been then.

“Unclench your jaw,” she mutters, “It’s not good for you.”

Harry hums and unclenches it.

He stretches his neck by rolling his head around his shoulders and she glances at the movement. His skin is still beautifully sun-kissed and his pores look so soft, only his moles change the texture of his skin. She loves his moles though, they make him especially unique in her eyes. Not that he needed anything else to set him apart from the crowd. Still, she loved them. His collarbone is prominent as he sits there shirtless and she wishes she could reach out and brush at it. But she gets back to work, knowing the only time she’s gonna be brushing near that part of him is when she’s covering dates in those dips behind his collarbones.

“Y’know, I could just drive you to Nick’s tonight,” Harry says, putting his book down and taking off his glasses. He rubs at his eye with his free hand.

“You’re blind and British, how do I know you can even drive yourself?” She asks sillily, pointing to his glasses.

He shakes his head, “I’m serious, Y/N. Aren’t you staying in the same area as me?”

He asks because they had relocated to Palm Springs a little while ago and everyone had gotten rentals and it was hard to remember where everyone was holed up when they weren’t on set.

“Yeah, think so. But you don’t need to pick me up. I have a car.”

“Nonsense. I’ve been to his place before, don’t want you to have to deal with directions, that’s just silly.”

“I guess...” she resigns relatively easily. She had never hung out with Harry off the set or Nick for that matter. It felt surreal, but she knew the right answer was usually just say yes in these situations. So that’s what she says. “Yes, that’d be great, thank you,” she confirms and watches as Harry’s eyes glimmer softly before turning back to his book. A triumphant soft smirk rests on his face.

The words die out between the two of them as she works on. He hums along to the music and continues reading his book. When she’s done with his tattoo coverage and his face makeup, she sends him off to hair and the rest of his day. He gives a flirty wink as he walks out the door and she rolls her eyes in response. She tidies up her kit and then goes to do some other makeup work.

When she wasn’t working with Harry, she was assigned to some of the minor characters and doing their makeup. They were always her second concern, especially now that she did Harry’s makeup as well as his tattoos. As she works on them, she can feel her mind drifting to Harry. Harry and how they were friends now. She was pretty sure, right? They were friends. He had never really said a mean thing to her if she really thought about it. It was her… She had been rude and mean-spirited and he had just taken it. He rarely had even thrown it back at her. He was so good to her and patient and she realized that he had proven to her that he was good. He was better than good, he was kind and loving. Considerate. Wonderful. All of those positive superlatives, Harry filled them. And she had the audacity to be mean to him.

She paused the brush that was adding blush to an actresses cheek.

Lisa, the actress, looks at Y/N confusedly, “What’s wrong?”

Y/N twitches her head, refocusing on her task at hand. The realization of her pausing her work becomes clear as she looks between her hand and the cheek that has not enough blush on it. “Oh,” she breathes. “...I just realized that I was terrible to someone who doesn’t have a mean bone in their body.”

Lisa nods, “Apologize.”

“Yeah, I mean...We’ve kind of moved past the phase where we don’t get along. Like now we’re friends, but the realization just really hit me.” She sighs, picking up where she left off on Lisa’s makeup. “I’ll make sure to apologize next time I see them.”

Lisa smiles.

At the end of the day, Y/N realizes she left her tattoo coverage kit in Harry’s room after their touch-up session halfway through the day. She had run off to help with a makeup emergency for a tiny cut on a minor character’s face and forgotten to go back and grab her things. Another roll of her eyes and a huff of breath and then she’s walking back to Trailer 6, a place that seemed like a home away from home now. She knocks, patiently waiting at the bottom of the steps.

Harry swings open the door and props it with his hip. He’s got a toothbrush held in his mouth, slowly scrubbing back and forth with his left hand. His costume is somewhat taken off, he’s still got the pants on with suspenders hanging down, his chest was completely bare and he looked funny with some of his tattoos only being half covered based on what parts of his skin had been showing today. Her work. His skin looked half silky smooth and half tattooed like usual.

His naked skin seemingly left her breathless because as her eyes returned to Harry’s face, she breathed a soft, “Hi.”

“Hey,” a smirk twists onto his face. “Forget something?”

“Yes,” she nods, coming back to her senses and entering the trailer at Harry’s gesture.

She begins to pack up the kit that had been left haphazardly strewn around on his counter. “I’m sorry I left a mess like this, I got called over to something else and forgot.”

“Don’t worry darling,” Harry grins at his joke.

She looks up from her work and sees Harry in the reflection of the mirror. He’s wiping off the makeup from his chest and his beautiful tattoos reemerge as entire images.

She laughs humorlessly, “It gets less funny each time you use that.”

“That’s not true,” he looks at her through the mirror now, his green eyes trained on her face, “Everyone else still thinks it’s hilarious.”

“They’re humoring you and your fragile ego,” she winks and watches as Harry’s smirk twitches from his perfect face.

“You’ve got a very mean disposition, you know that?” He asks.

He finishes his chest and moves to remove the makeup from his left arm, glancing at the mirror every so often to check himself and to flicker his eyes over Y/N’s face.

She genuinely laughs at that, but scolds herself internally for being mean when she had planned to apologize the next time she saw Harry. This was the next time so why was she doing this instead?

“Rewrite sweet disposition for me?” Her voice honeyed. Clearly stubborn and terrible at saying sorry...maybe her and Harry were a better match than she realized.

Harry twists his lips as he slips on his t-shirt he was wearing today.

“Pick you up at 6:30?” He says as his head pops out from beneath the rainbow striped sweatshirt he slipped on top of the shirt. His chestnut hair had been toweled out and was flopping over his forehead slightly.

She sighs and zips close the kit, standing from the seat she had taken at his counter and turning to face him now.

“6:30 is perfect. Thanks again for doing this. I just can’t believe Nick Kroll is inviting me over for dinner!” She smiles, shifting to lean against the counter as she waits for Harry to finish up. She didn’t have to but for some reason she felt like she was in no rush.

“Are you serious?” He’s moved on to changing his pants now and he’s slipping on black sweatpants.

“Yeah…” She blinks and her eyes widen as Harry appraises her expression.

He straightens up after fixing a cuff on the pants and he can’t tell if she’s being genuine or sarcastic. It was always so hard to tell with her.

“I mean, Nick Kroll is like a huge celebrity and I know in the entertainment business you’re not supposed to get starstruck but when I was in college my sister thought he was weirdly hot and my friends and I would shit talk him. I don’t know, it’s just kind of surreal to be having dinner at his place. Like I’ve watched him on tv and now I’ll be eating with him...so weird.”

He shakes his head, beginning on his dirty vans now. A small laugh escapes his mouth and he glances between her and his shoe, scratching his head quickly. “I still can’t tell… It feels like you’re fucking with me right now.”

“I’m not!” She insists, her hands coming out in front of her in a confused fashion. “I used to watch that guy’s tv show then he’s my boss now he’s inviting me over for food? It’s a lot to process.”

“How come it’s not surreal to be having dinner with me then?” He asks semi-joking, a hint of offense tinged within it. It’s visible only in his knitted brow and twisted lip.

“Careful there, sailor. Venturing into some dangerously self-absorbed waters.” Her eyes light up, a quick raise of her brows accompany the shine, and she decides now is her time to head out. Especially as she thinks about getting ready for this soiree tonight. She needed to shower and pick out an outfit with less than two hours to prepare.

Harry sputters at her response and fumbles with his pink shoelace. “That’s not...that is - You’re being unfair. My question is valid.”

She shrugs her shoulders and skirts Harry’s attempt at grabbing at her arm to stop her from leaving. “Okay, Mr. Big Man On Campus. I promise you you’re the most popular boy in school.”

She blows him a kiss and walks out the door as he attempts to get her to come back by calling her name a few times and slightly shouting “C’mon! I wasn’t being insecure. That was a reasonable ask…”

He sighs and shakes his head again. Every interaction would end with one of them either rolling their eyes or shaking their head and usually a sigh on both of their lips. It was exhausting, but exhilarating too.

20 minutes later, Harry receives a text from Y/N: “You’re still picking me up right :))) ?”

He’s in his car, getting ready to finally leave after getting held up with last minute schedule changes that he had to be informed about by some PA that he had forgotten the name of. His lip quirks to the right and he closes his eyes for a second enjoying seeing her name on his phone screen for a moment.

He types back: “Of courseeee”.

“Fab.” She sends back, immediately followed by: “Fanks BMOC ;)”

A full smile rolls onto Harry’s face after he swipes his tongue over his lower lip. “Yeah, yeah, save it for the next guy” he types out quickly before throwing his phone gently beside him and driving back to his apartment. She made him feel young, not that he wasn’t young, but generally his friends didn’t text like she did.

At 6:28, she receives a text from Harry Styles - his name in her phone. A name she had never expected to see in her phone unless her Spotify was on shuffle. Yet, instead, his name popped up under messages and it read “Here!” followed by a quick “I think” and then a phone call coming through from the apparently anxious man himself.

“Hello Harry.” Her tone even. She throws little items into her purse, making sure everything she needs is there.

“Could you peek out your window? I’m not quite sure I’m at the right place and people are staring…” nerves laced in his rushed tone.

She ambles to the window and opens up the shade she had closed to change. Below her, she sees a sleek black Range Rover with a slightly disarrayed hairdo and big dark glasses peeking below the windshield. She ignored the instinct to retch at the sight of the Range Rover and peered at the lamp lit sight below her. It was definitely Harry, but she searched for the prying eyes he was worried about and saw none. Well, maybe a few, but it wasn’t a lot.

“I see you, I’ll be right out, dude. Just deep breaths, it’s mostly crew staying here right now so they’re just seeing that it’s you, another guy they work with. They won’t come up for pictures...I would hope.”

She hangs up with no farewell, snatches her purse from its place on the bed and races out the door. Harry smiles anxiously at her when she stands next to the passenger’s door and he unlocks it. She bites her lip and raises her brows, waiting to hear if anything terrible happened in the minute and a half it took her to come downstairs and out to the car.

“Hi,” he exhales.

A smirk crawls onto her features and her eyes sparkle with a bit of a childish glee that normally she didn’t exhibit as she glances at him. “Hi.” She says quietly. “Alright big boy?”

“‘M fine.” He huffs but balks at her smile that she maintains while she stares at him. “What?”

“Just happy to see you, I guess,” her smile returns after speaking and Harry glances between her face and the windshield in front of him.

He can’t tell if she’s being serious or not once again. But he fears that conversation of her either ridiculing him for thinking she is serious or being offended that he still can’t tell. Instead, he will keep his mouth shut. For the most part.

“Happy to see you, too,” his lips create a closed mouth smile quickly before turning out of the parking lot.

She watches him. Their first time together outside of work. And they were friends. She needed to get used to simply thinking that. He picked her up to take her to dinner with her other friend and his wife. This was normal life, just with big names behind those terms of relation. Jesus, she always said it didn’t bother her to be around celebrities so why did she think about it so damn much?

She twitches her head and refocuses on Harry and his driving. His jaw is clenched again and she wants to reach out and sooth it herself. Instead she starts to open her mouth to correct him, but stops herself from that as well. They weren’t at work and it didn’t feel like something just a friend would say right now. She refocuses on the view of his eyes that are barely visible while he regards the road. His large eyes that she had grown acquainted to are surveying what he’s doing, every so often drifting to the right side of the road to check out the lane beside him. But then, always back to right in front of him, leaving a crescent of green visible to her.

“Can feel you staring at me…” His voice sounds like it’s rolled around in gravel after the long work day. It makes her wonder if he’s supposed to have a vocal rest when he’s not at work, but then again it’s the weekend now so maybe it was fine. Maybe she should ask him. Or maybe she should stop worrying so much about him.

“Have I got something on my face?” His low register bumps her from her racing thoughts. He doesn’t take his eyes off the road, but she can see he’s widened his eyes in wonder.

“No! Of course not, I just was...making sure you weren’t going to crash us or something.” She grasps at straws, desperate to not be caught by Harry.

A low chuckle bubbles from his chest and he spares a small glance over at her bundled up in his passenger seat. She matches his gaze with something of distrust hidden behind her eyes. She hopes to convey that she’s being silly and when Harry turns back to look at the road unassumingly, she feels like she has won. The harmonies of the beginning of a Queen song take over the silence, Harry’s spindly fingers thrumming against the wheel.

They arrive at the Kroll’s Palm Springs residence at 6:50. 10 minutes early and the two twiddle their thumbs for a few minutes, trying to pass the time and not intrude earlier than they were supposed to. She appreciated that Harry liked to be timely but not early, similar to how she was.

“So what is the fascination with Range Rovers?” She queries, leaning against the door’s armrest. The back of her head touches against the semi-tinted window.

Harry shifts in his seat, seat belt no longer constricting him and no road requiring his attention as they sit in the driveway. He rushes a hand through his hair and lets a single strand of hair fall over his prominent forehead.

“Dunno,” he shrugs his shoulders and allows a hand to fall onto the steering wheel absentmindedly. “I don’t really prefer them anymore, but when I’m in LA and doing work, it makes things easier. My other cars are a little flashier...have more privacy in this.”

“Yet the effect is similar,” she muses.

Her head tilts to take in Harry’s appearance, sharp black silky button-up and dark green plaid slacks, and she rubs a hand over her jaw. His eyes flicker to the movement and attempt to really take it in, even in the dim glow of the lamp light outside barely peeking into the dark interior of the car.

“Effect?”

“Y’know…” She arches her brow at him. He feigns innocence or possibly the expression is genuine. She’s begun to realize Harry was as genuine as they came, but she just didn’t think he was that unaware. An assumption that was likely correct, but even Harry liked to pretend he was a completely unassuming individual.

“Forget it,” she finishes when he gives no indication that he knows what she is hinting at. She doesn’t want to get into it with him again. Especially when he plays at this game where he has no idea what she’s talking about. It made her feel like she was crazy for thinking he made these calculated decisions to get his desired outcomes.

They move on, neither of them quite sure what the other was getting at in that conversation. The two of them walk into the house a minute before their expected arrival time side by side and are greeted happily with Nick and his wife. They’re ushered in and Y/N is happily received by the happy couple.

“So, Y/N, how’s it been for you working with these two? I know they can be more than a handful - especially together,” Nick’s wife, Lily, asks after a sip of wine.

The group of four had been eating for a while with Nick and Harry bantering for quite a bit at the beginning about whether or not Harry would be willing to hand feed Nick. The answer was settled at “another time”.

Harry seems to have a very specific habit of watching whoever is speaking - no matter what. So after Lily has finished speaking, his gaze flickers to Y/N, the person his brain expects to speak next. He watches her attentively as she wipes her mouth on her napkin before speaking.

Her hair was styled differently tonight than it usually was on set, she had it down rather than up in a ponytail or braids. He hadn’t had time to really look at her when they had been in the car, his mind occupied with stress and exhaustion that he refocused into driving and deep breathing. Now, in the comfort of a trusted friend’s home, he was far more relaxed and able to truly take in her appearance, which he couldn’t help but think was beautiful. He’d have to tell her that at some point. That he thought she was beautiful. Not that he didn’t see her on set and think she was beautiful...he just hadn’t really thought about it before. She was his wily makeup artist who was critical of him most times, but occasionally sweet, who had an amazing taste in music and good aesthetic style. The beauty part of it all, he guessed wasn’t something integral to their relationship before.

But now he was sitting beside her at the Kroll’s nice dining table and she had her hair splayed in front and behind her shoulders with one side tucked behind her ear and her outfit fit her impeccably. The top she had on had capped sleeves that cinched with buttons at her delicate wrists and a severe drop to create a small sweetheart neckline just above the curve of her breasts. It was silky and shiny, a blush pink that complemented the high waisted dark grey slacks that flared over shiny black boots that he wasn’t sure where they ended beneath the pants.

“Well,” she starts, chuckling under her breath when she meets Harry’s stare, “Harry and I spend a lot of time together, covering up all his tattoos, and he yaps a lot. So, it’s actually pretty refreshing when Nick comes in, because Harry’s then talking half the normal amount.”

He huffs a scoff, while Lily and Nick laugh happily. Nick interjects an “ouch” for the bite she just took out of Harry, but she thought it was fine, he can take it.

Harry thought to himself that if she can serve it, then she can definitely take it. His eyes remain on her as he opens his mouth to speak, but then look at Lily when words actually come out. “Well, Y/N, she thinks she can read people really well, but it’s actually quite the opposite. She had me completely wrong when we first met, so I talk now in hopes that she’ll really understand me.”

His head tilts to her when he mentions her name, but otherwise doesn’t glance her way away again. He scrunches his nose at the end of his comment, implying he converses with her out of pity.

It’s her turn to scoff and stare at him unamused. Nick and Lily share a look, unsure of what was going on, they had concocted this dinner date idea in hopes to set the two up but the way this conversation was going, they seemed to be pushing each other further and further away from one another.

“That’s simply not true,” she says curtly and takes a sip of her quickly emptying wine glass.

“Which part?”

“Almost all of it, I’d say,” her eyes glaring back at him, fiery with a disdain he hadn’t seen in awhile. “You’re proving my original perception of you with every passing second,” she adds.

“Care to elaborate exactly what the original perception of me was for the class,” his eyes are wide and wild, any extra adoration he had started to feel towards her slipping away just as quickly as it had come, like a wave along the beach.

“You know, so why don’t you?”

“I want to hear you say it,” he grits out the command.

She shifts in her seat, glancing at Nick and Lily who are watching on and she has a feeling she won’t be getting an invitation again anytime soon. Lily gives her a semi-reassuring smile like she was sorry to have asked the question at all, but Y/N knows this is kind of her fault, not that she would ever admit that. Her comment could have been taken innocuously, but Harry’s pride wouldn’t let it slide. Like she said, she should have known better, the weeks of friendship were flying out the window and she was helping them along.

“And what if I don’t?”

“Have fun calling an uber at this time of night,” he shrugs, malice dripping in his tone.

She truly was taken aback at this. A slight sound of shock leaving her mouth. Harry was many things, impatient and anxious usually, but downright cruel with her, she had yet to see it. Arrogant and pompous, definitely, but this wickedness that was starting to creep from the shadows worried her. But the little fiery demon within her wasn’t going anywhere either - yet she might back down to save herself some money and hassle.

“Fine,” she raises her brows in a challenge to him and restates her original take on him - possibly adding a bit extra malice in her phrasing, “You are a shell of a man, held up by the people around you, creating the illusion of a completely genuine and down to earth rocker who dabbles in acting, philanthropy and all around goodness. No one’s ever had a bad experience because no one’s ever truly met you. Not the real you.” She takes a deep breath as she shakes her head in disbelief now, a sarcastic laugh leaving her mouth, “And I thought, I really thought, that I had been wrong. Because these past months you really fooled me with your sweet smile and deep eyes. But when it comes down to it, you tricked me just like everyone else.”

Harry stares at her blankly and she shakes her head once more, feeling foolish. For thinking Harry was someone he wasn’t. For thinking the past few months had been real. For thinking that tonight would go off without a hitch. And the shit part of it was that she had really hoped that all of it was true. She wanted this to be her life, but her instincts had been right. Beware of the picture perfect because it always is just a mirage of deceit and lies.

“All I’ve got to say is you’re a damn good actor Harry, so at least you’ve got that going for you.” Then she pushes back from the table and stands, turning to Nick and Lily. “I really am so sorry, I understand that you probably want me to leave, so I’ll just be going,” her voice faltering at the end, she wasn’t as strong as she liked to pretend and she was pretty sure she just ruined her chances of working again in Hollywood. You’d have to be an idiot to be an enemy of Harry Styles and she feels like she just became his first.

“No!” Nick says quickly, standing too, “I think things just escalated really quickly and some things were said that both of you didn’t mean. Um...just, let’s take a few minutes to cool off. Harry could you and Lily deal with the dishes and I’m going to talk with Y/N alone.”

Everyone nods and Y/N follows Nick down a hallway, a little confused but following after he beckons her with his hand. They go out a side door and end up on a porch in the backyard. He stoops down and opens a little sitting mailbox she didn’t see and pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He places one between his teeth and then offers one to her. She accepts, not usually a regular smoker, but right now seemed like a fair time to indulge in the bad habit. She needed to calm her rapidly beating heart.

He lights the cigarette for her when he sees her shaking hands and then in turn lights his own. They stand on the porch beside each other and stare out into the dark night sky.

“Well, this wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go,” Nick starts, after a few exhales of smoke.

“No,” she laughs nervously, her foot toeing at the wooden slate on the porch. “I shouldn’t have tried to make a joke.”

“No one’s to blame,” Nick says quickly, glancing at her, “You and Harry...you both have really strong personalities and I don’t think either of you are used to being challenged.”

She nods along, she definitely had to agree after the argument they had both willingly gotten into in front of other people.

“I think that can be a really good thing, challenging each other, because then you two can both grow. But what happened in there was more of a battle to the death rather than a friendly spar.”

“Yeah,” she exhales, flicking at the burning cigarette between her fingers, “I don’t know why he gets under my skin sometimes in a way I’ve never dealt with and it’s kind of uncomfortable so I lash out, I guess.”

Nick stays quiet, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“Ugh,” she groans, “I wish I hadn’t done that. We were doing so well, it’s like I don’t even really know what I’m saying, it’s like I can’t handle a friendly spar, I always end up going in for the kill - as you put it.”

She rubs at her face with her free hand and then takes a drag herself. Nick bites at his lower lip, trying to think of a solution.

“Y’know? Lily and I had concocted this plan to try and set you and Harry up tonight,” he says slowly, revealing the plan that had clearly been taken off the table as they just needed to attempt to salvage cordiality.

“Really?!” She’s in complete disbelief and slight dismay that the plan was seemingly ruined.

“Well,” he sputters, “When the two of you aren’t throwing verbal fireballs at each other, you’re actually quite sweet to one another. Those fond little glances you hope no one sees, well he does that too, and you both fail miserably because I see it all the time. I’m sure plenty of people do too.”

“Oh,” she states, visibly deflating. She looks to the ashtray conveniently on a table behind her and presses out the rest of the cigarette. “Should probably talk to him, huh?”

Nick nods, stamping out his nub of a cigarette as well. They go back inside and into the kitchen where Lily and Harry have plated dessert. Harry looks a little sheepish, likely having a similar conversation with Lily and she wouldn’t be surprised if her expression looks similar, if not a bit more flushed from the outdoor chill.

Lily murmurs that she and Nick are going to eat their dessert in the living room, a fair bit away from the kitchen and the two now deflated counterparts nod and then stare at each other, knowing what they need to do.

“Can we talk?” Harry rasps out, his voice even lower as he speaks softly, a mere foot away from her in the kitchen.

She nods, but moves further from him to lean against the counter and tuck her hands behind her. She’s lost her appetite and doesn’t want Harry to see her shaking digits.

He’s ducked his head and a stray curl falls over his forehead, laying there softly. He doesn’t move to fix it, just stares at his feet until she begins to talk. He can’t not look at her face when she speaks.

“So…” She slowly starts, not enjoying the tension in the room. Her eyes can’t meet his though, his stare dark and unnerving like usual, but almost painfully so now. “I can start.” She kicks at the tiling on the floor like she had done outside as well, trying to not think about the eyes trained on her right now. “I’m sorry I lashed out on you, Harry. I didn’t mean what I said, it was just a heat of the moment response.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Harry says immediately once she finishes speaking, “I shouldn’t have gotten upset over a silly joke and brought up a sensitive subject. Then it escalated…”

“Yeah, I really liked the friendship we’ve garnered these past few months and I just can’t believe I almost ruined everything - including my career…” she squeaks at the end and tears start to roll from her eyes. “Oh god,” she is hit with the gravity of all that she almost ruined as Harry stares at her again. “I’m so sorry, Harry, I really am. Do you forgive me? I don’t think I could stand it if you didn’t.”

She stands there and feels sobs wrack through her and her hands go to cover her face out of embarrassment. She had caused a scene and now she was making another one. In front of Harry.

In an instant his arms are wrapped around her frame and he’s hushing her cries. They had never hugged before, but now seemed like as good a time as ever. His arms were strong around her and she pressed her face into his chest, not caring at all about how she looked or whether this was worse than getting in a fight and running off.

“Of course I forgive you,” he says and then begins repeating her name over and over, trying to soothe her. He definitely had been hurt by her words, but it seemed like she was more upset about the whole situation than he was and he didn’t think bringing up what specifically had hurt him would help her frame of mind.

She settles after some time, her whimpers and tears subsiding after being rocked into a more peaceful mindset with the help of Harry’s calming voice and reassuring embrace.

“I really am sorry,” she whispers again.

Harry pulls his neck back and his head off the top of her head to look at her face. It was tear stained and her eyes were glassy, lips slightly puffy. He gave her a soft tight-lipped smile. “No more apologies,” he states sternly and then softens again at the slight quiver in her lip. He pulls from her a little more, leaving her at arm's length, with his hands still attached to her hips, fingers slipping over the plaid fabric. “I meant to tell you this earlier, before things…” he stares at her face again and she holds it this time, “You look beautiful tonight.”

She scoffs and her eyes immediately drop to her feet, “Definitely not anymore.” She doesn’t believe Harry.

“‘M serious,” he insists. His right index finger goes to rest beneath her chin and brings her face up to look back at him.

“Sure,” she says, still not convinced but not sure how else to respond. She feels herself warming at all the positive attention he’s pouring into her.

His gaze won’t falter from her face, he’s intent upon making her understand him. He whispers her name, “Accept the compliment.”

“You’re stubborn,” she notes.

“So are you,” he counters quickly.

“Fine, thank you,” she sighs when he won’t stop giving her that look of his. That look that makes her want to melt into the ground because it feels like she’s the only person in the world. “Though you looked especially good tonight, too,” she adds, her hands rubbing over his shoulders softly.

“Thank you,” Harry states lowly, the words only traveling to her ears. His hands fiddle with the sides of her top, thinking about the night and where they were now. Her eyes were red from crying and overall she looked tired beyond her years. “Do you want me to take you home?”

“That’d be nice.”

They make a quiet farewell to Nick and Lily, as well as apologies from both her and Harry. They don’t speak in the car and the music plays loud enough for it to not seem unreasonable for them to be silent. Harry’s hands don’t tap against the steering wheel, they sit in their spots stoically doing their job and nothing more. She watches the window, legs crossed and hands clasped in her lap. She’s thankful for the music because she knows that even though they had talked, it wasn’t enough. What she had said was hurtful and one apology wasn’t enough for how she had behaved. She didn’t think her and Harry would be the same after tonight, but the silence made it possible for her to pretend none of it had happened.

Just as Harry’s car is pulling up the apartment complex that is far darker now, the harsh splatter of rain begins to fall on the pavement and the sleek black car the two are still sat in.

“Oh,” she comments offhandedly, just responding to what she had noticed.

The rain grows louder when Harry parks and then turns off the car. He glances at her for the first time since they got into the car. She registers the look out of the corner of her eye, her face still looking out at the rain. She loved the rain, but there wasn’t always a lot in Southern California, especially not in Palm Springs. It seemed that tonight was different.

“Well,” Harry breaks his silence, she thinks that’s her cue to leave and unbuckles her seatbelt, but he continues. “This certainly wasn’t how I expected this night to go.”

She stops moving, her hand hovering over the handle of the door. She sits back and settles into the seat, feeling her teeth bite into the plush of her bottom lip.

“That’s what people keep saying,” her eyes remain on the rain hitting the front of the car, the splatters of seemingly black liquid that form when the clear rain touches the onyx hood of the car.

“Huh?” Harry grows perplexed at the rather wistful tone of her and how she won’t look at him again. He was still hurt, but he had hoped them talking in the kitchen had straightened some things out. During the car ride he hadn’t wanted to talk, but it didn’t mean he was still angry with her. Just confused, and growing further confused by the second.

“Oh,” she repeats, “Didn’t Lily say? Her and Nick concocted that dinner in hopes to set us up.”

Harry hums, knowing that because Nick had left out a little part of that plan. That he had been a part of it. He had been talking with Nick about getting to know her better outside of work and how Nick had thought it’d be a good idea to have dinner so he had told Lily and they set it up like a casual dinner party. Harry didn’t know how to respond because her knowing that he was in on the plan might just make matters worse. He really didn’t think things could get much worse, but it seemed that they always managed to make it happen so in the end he decided to keep his mouth shut.

“I don’t know if we’d ever be able to work out differences out for that,” she decides to continue, when Harry stays quiet. She scans the interior of the car and watches Harry for the briefest moment before going back to looking out the window. “Nick said that we challenge each other to grow, but all I see us do is hurt each other.”

Her voice is just above the rain pattering outside the car and Harry thinks it sounds almost melodic if it weren’t for the sadness laced in every word.

“I disagree,” he states before wetting his lips.

“Of course you do,” she laughs in spite of herself.

“Even after all these months together and you still don’t get it. I like you.”

“You don’t like me, I don’t know how you could ever like me,” she shakes her head. “We just...we get under each other’s skin. You can make me so angry sometimes and I know I make you angry too. And when we’re not angry, we’re focussed on something that doesn’t have to do with ourselves.”

“I don’t think what you feel for me is anger,” Harry insists, “Just because something feels burning and fiery, frustrating even, doesn’t mean it’s anger.”

His body shifts closer to the center divide and she turns to face him finally. His eyes are extra dark in this lighting, which is barely there from a streetlamp a ways off. She longs for the comfort of his light green eyes, the soft pale glow of the moss that seems to have been trapped within his iris. Maybe for that reason she unknowingly leans closer to him.

“Then what is it?” She whispers, eyes blinking slowly as her breathing grows strained.

“Passion.”

Immediately, her head is tilting to meet his lips. Her mind knows one thing, she needs to be kissing Harry right now. And then she is. His left hand goes to cup her cheek as his lips attach themselves to hers. His soft lips press to hers in a long searing kiss. They stay there for a moment, pressing all of that passion and frustration into the kiss.

She presses impatiently forward, her lips starting to move more, wanting to kiss him deeper. Harry obliges, parting his lips and kissing her more vigorously. He licks into her open mouth and smiles at the sound she makes in appreciation for his actions.

She’s shifted to have herself kneeling on the leather seat and she’s leaning over the console. One of her hands finds purchase on Harry’s thigh and grasps tightly, her other at the back of his neck, pressing him closer if it were possible.

His chest is pressing against hers as he pulls her closer. He kisses her and his fingertips rub softly at the apple of her cheek. Eventually they run behind the shell of her ear and trail down her neck.

Eventually, she pulls away and stares at Harry. She watches as his eyes flutter open gently. His soft eyelashes dust his cheeks before moving away, allowing his eyes to peer at her in the dark.

Her breathing feels a little irregular after the kissing and she’s sure she is heaving her chest slightly, likely mirroring Harry’s chest as well.

“So, where to now?” She inquires, lips quirked up at her suggestion.

Harry giggles and scratches his nose against his index finger.

Harry doesn’t stay the night, he walks her up to her apartment door though. He kisses her chastley in front of her door and wraps an arm around her waist as he does so. He bids her a goodnight and a promise of seeing her soon.

They don’t see each other for a month. Both of them had been so blissful after the endorphins of kissing their person that they had forgotten that filming had wrapped. They weren’t set to work for a month. Harry texted her the next morning informing her that he’d be in England until filming resumed. She was still going to be in California, filming was moving back to Los Angeles, so she’d be back in her place there. Her family knew she was working, so they had sent her presents ahead to her place instead. Angie, her only true friend in the area, was spending her time with her actual family and Y/N didn’t want to intrude.

So the holidays were going to be spent alone. Those four weeks alone passed surprisingly quickly. She practiced techniques on herself, bought a tiny Christmas tree like the one in A Charlie Brown Christmas, watched A Charlie Brown Christmas and just about every other holiday movie possible. She fell in love with young Hugh Grant and Colin Firth for the thousandth time. She sang carols to herself and decorated her place with decorations from Target. She jammed out to the new Miley Cyrus album and held dance parties for herself in the house. She baked cookies and even attempted a trifle after watching a Great British Bake Off episode. She did and she did all in hopes that her mind wouldn’t wander to the guy who hadn’t called.

Harry texted occasionally, but it was infrequent at best. He was a busy person, she knew that. She knew who he was. And she didn’t want her mind to have enough time to feel sorry for herself. For her to think that she was just somebody to pass the time with while at work, because if she stopped doing things that’s where her mind would wander. Why did her mind spiral like it did? She had no idea, she’d always been like that.

His absence, their separation, made her question if her own feelings were even true. She wondered if when she saw him he would act as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t said their relationship was passionate and she had kissed him until she couldn’t breath.

Too much time alone, she needed some fresh air. On January 2nd, after an uneventful night at home and a lackluster countdown washed down with cheap champagne, she decided to go and walk around near her place. There was a coffee shop that wasn’t extremely expensive that she also liked that she figured she would get coffee from. After a brisk walk, she walked through the store's doors and ordered an iced green tea. As she waited, she watched the other customers around her, wishing to see a friendly face, someone she knew. And seconds later, she was met with half of that wish. Someone she knew, not necessarily a friendly face.

“Autumn.” She states with a grimace when someone taps her on the shoulder and she spins around.

“Y/N? It is you!” Autumn, one of the PA’s from Don’t Worry Darling who was especially in Harry’s business, exclaims overly happy as per usual.

Y/N bites the inside of her cheek and gives a tight lipped smile, trying her best to be cordial.

“How’s your holiday been!” Autumn asks.

“Great. You?”

“So great!” She’s quick to lean closer and say in a hushed tone, “But I miss working on set, especially getting to see that Harry everyday. He’s just so gorgeous.”

A breath gets stuck in Y/N’s chest at the mention of Harry’s name. Her brows can’t help but raise a bit at Autumn’s comment. Even lowering her voice didn’t make it feel alright to talk about Harry like this. He was her friend after all.

“Sure.” Y/N nods abruptly, realizing Autumn wants some recognition of what she’s just said. Y/N’s eyes glance around the room, hoping for an out like her drink is ready or something - no such luck.

“I mean,” Autumn keeps talking, of course, “You’re so lucky. You get to see him shirtless, like what? Everyday practically? Don’t tell me you don’t miss that just a little bit!”

“I miss working,” Y/N says, avoiding what Autumn is trying to get her to say. “And Harry’s my friend, could you maybe not talk about him like that with me?”

Autumn’s eyes widened in shock, her lips parted dumbfounded by her co-worker's response. Y/N’s name is called for her drink and she’s thankful for the serendipitous nature of that sound getting her out of the awkward situation she had just been in.

When she gets back to her apartment, she surprisingly has a text from Harry himself. She’s always telling everyone; speak of the devil and he will appear, in one way or another. It’s a Happy New Year well wish followed by a separate text asking how she was.

It was sent a minute ago so she decides to try and give him a call. She preferred talking on the phone over texting.

It rings a few times and then, again surprisingly, he picks up.

“‘Lo?” His voice is nice and deep and sounding extra British after his weeks surrounded by family and such.

“Harry,” she sighs contentedly.

“Happy to hear your voice,” he says her name and she can tell he’s smiling just like she is, from ear to ear.

She bites at her lip, hearing him say her name.

“I’m well, thanks,” she says after a moment of happy silence.

“What?” Harry laughs, confused.

“You texted asking me how I was and I called to respond.”

“Got it,” Harry chuckles, and she hears him shuffling around, likely sitting down on something.

“How are you?” She continues.

“Good, starting to wind down for the day,” he lists off the things he’s been doing over the past few days. Some of it work related, some of it family activities. All of it fun, he insists. “What did you do today?” He finishes, knowing she was an avid activity doer based off of the snaps she had sent him over the past few weeks.

“Tidied my place, went to the coffee shop and got iced tea…” she tries to think and then she gasps, “Oh! And I saw Autumn, one of the Don’t Worry Darling PA’s -”

“The one who’s obsessed with me?”

“Exactly!” She laughs, “And I may have kind of told her off… accidentally.”

“Accidentally told her off?” Harry repeats, incredulous. “How’d you do that?”

“Well,” she doesn’t want to tell him the rest, but there’s also a tiny part of her that really does, “She was gushing about you, which, ew. And then she asked if I missed seeing you shirtless everyday.”

“Well do you miss seeing me shirtless?” Harry smirks.

“Oh shut up!” She’s quick to reply.

“So you do?”

“If I really wanted to see you shirtless, all I’d have to do is type in “Harry Styles sh” and it would come up,” she rolls her eyes even though she knows he can’t see them. “Wouldn’t even need the whole word. Guaranteed.”

“Uh-huh?” Harry questions still, “If you want me to send you shirtless pictures that the rest of the world hasn’t seen, Y/N, all you have to do is ask.”

“I do not want you to send me shirtless pictures of yourself!” She exclaims. She feels like jumping out of a window right now. This conversation had escalated so quickly and she felt herself flushing, maybe even perspiring a little bit. And she also knew that she also would probably like it if he sent her shirtless pictures, which made this whole thing worse.

“Offer stands,” he says, smug as he normally was, happy he got to banter with her again. It had been dull without her, if he was honest with himself. “If you ever find yourself in need, just send a cheeky text and I’ll whip one out for you, no matter where I am or what I’m doing.”

“See this sounds like you’re saying something sincere, but really you’re just telling me you’ll send me nudes at any time.”

“No one said anything about nudes!”

“Shirtless, nude, sounds like you’re getting too caught up in the details, hon.”

“No!” He protests, “You’re the one who’s supposed to be flustered right now, not me!”

“Aww, you’re flustered,” She coos.

Harry groans. “Whatever. I’ll be back on the 8th, be ready to go out on the 9th. I’m taking you on a proper date.”

“How do you know I’m going to say yes?” She bite her lip again, she’s really sweating now. She couldn’t believe he had just asked her out on a date out of nowhere. Out of them just joking about nudes. Maybe she didn’t know Harry as well as she thought.

“Because you called me,” he says confidently.

“I call everyone.”

“But I don’t offer shirtless pictures to everyone.”

“That has nothing to do with me saying yes to this date.”

“Or does it?”

She laughs at his words, at how his voice still manages to convey every facial expression and quirk of his lips. She knows there’s a smile on his lips as he stares in the distance, imagining her face just as she is his.

“Yes.” She smiles.

“Yes!” He repeats happily.

She hears him stand up and spin around possibly and she chuckles slightly, amused at the silly man across the world who had seemed to have stolen her heart.

“See you soon, Harry.”

“Not soon enough.”

On the Saturday of their date, Harry insists on picking her up. He meets her at her door and winks at her after pulling away from their short hug. He laces his hand in hers and she follows behind him as he all but drags her to his car that is downstairs. He seems giddy. His hair has grown out in the month he’s been gone and she knows they’ll cut it when filming resumes. He’s wearing Gucci flared blue jeans - she knows from the big logo on the bottom left pant leg - a ‘Waiting for Sunset’ graphic tee beneath a black cardigan with little animals and items knitted in it. And of course, his dirty ass vans. She had hoped that maybe Christmas would bring him a fresh pair from someone, but it seemed there was no such luck.

Either way, he looked good and upon scanning his outfit, she was pleased that she had dressed correctly for the occasion, knowing one of the sins of Los Angeles was being improperly dressed wherever you might go. Harry had said casual, but casual can always mean so many different things. She got it right with light wash high-waisted levi’s, a brown cream rib-knit long sleeve that buttoned like it could be a cardigan, and some fun chunky boots that added some height to her normal stature. She had contemplated between this and possibly twenty other tops and a few other bottoms. Landing on this felt right, plus it didn’t clash with Harry, the color of her shoes actually matched the color of the snake on the cardigan.

They both compliment each other on the way out to his car and she giggles when he stops and twirls her around. He says he didn’t get a “proper look” before for him to compliment her adequately. After the twirl, he nods and starts them off again, complimenting the specific pieces of her clothes and says she looks beautiful again. His giddiness was contagious.

“No Range tonight,” she muses when Harry stops them in front of a Mercedes-Benz cream convertible, top up.

“Not working,” he replies, unlocking the car with the key into the passenger’s side door handle.

She smiles and slides into the car and watches him jog around to his side and unlock it as well.

“Tonight is going to be fantastic,” he says, leaning over the console and kissing her cheek, just beside her lips.

And when he pulls away with that smug smile of his, she knows he kissed her there on purpose. But the little tease only makes her smile more. He was good at this. And he was right.

The night was fantastic. As was every night after. And she learned that Harry was so much more than anything she ever thought. She counted herself lucky to be loved by a man like him.

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

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sunshineseung · 3 years

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Overdue // Bang Chan

🍄 | genre: smut (18+ !!! minors DNI) ☁️ | pairing: Stray Kids Bang Chan x gender neutral!reader 🌿 | wc: 2.1k 🌸 | includes: public sex (library/restroom), sub!chan, dom!reader, anal vibrator, handjob (giving), orgasm control, cum swallowing, praise, degradation, humiliation, practically no aftercare... sorry chan

☀️ | synopsis: Of all the people to have a crush on you, it had to be the sweetest, most innocent boy in your class, didn’t it? Channie’s always so adorable and kind. There’s no way you’d ever be able to ruin him... unless he gave you the chance, of course.

Everyone knows Chan has a crush on you. He doesn’t hide it nearly as well as he thinks. He’s usually the cutest, bubbliest boy on the planet, but around you he’s super quiet and shy. Although that might seem like a detriment to his chances with you, his meekness only makes him hotter, or at least in your perverted eyes.

There’s something primal inside you. You see this adorable, sheepish man and there’s a demon in your brain that tells you to ruin him. From what you hear from other people, Chan is very inexperienced, which makes you want him more. You don’t want to scare him away with your despicably naughty thoughts, and yet there’s something in his eyes that gleams when you look at him, and you know he feels it too. In your head, his innocence is all a façade, and you’re the only one that he wants to put him in his place.

There’s no time for that now. Finals are coming up and you have to study. The crowded library has students and strangers at every table, some with friends and others, like you, alone. Lucky for you, Chan is sitting alone across the room perfectly in your line of sight. His presence makes studying easier just because whenever you want to take a break, you can look at his pretty face.

Chan’s eyes catch onto yours as you look at him with the primal hunger you assume he’s fearful of. His breath hitches, not expecting to meet your gaze, especially when you look so demented. He looks back down at his textbook, rolling his finger over the page while biting his lip, although you can’t tell if it’s an anxiety lip bite or a horny lip bite.

Chan meekly walks over to where you’re sitting while his eyes are aimed down the floor. His arm reaches out to you, handing you a small remote controller with no prominent markings to hint at what it’s for.

“What’s this?” Your voice is a soft whisper as you lean towards Chan to make sure he hears you. He bites his lip and walks away, sitting back behind the desk as if nothing happened. His nose is buried in his book again before you have time to fathom what’s going on.

Shrugging, you put the controller on your leg before going back to your book, reading through a few pages before you catch a glimpse of the mysterious controller in your peripheral vision. The ambiguity of the situation is giving you a headache, and Chan’s shyness isn’t helping at all. You know you won’t get an answer from walking up to him and asking, so you take the remote in your hand after setting down your book.

The remote has two arrows: one facing up, and another facing down. The only logo on the control says a brand name you’ve never heard of. Your thumb hovers over the topmost arrow as you internally argue with yourself whether or not you should press the button. As you apply pressure to the button, you look at Chan. If this tiny machine controls any sort of explosive, someone’s in for a surprise.

He shakes. He bites his lip and he shakes. That’s it? What is this?!

You press the button again, making Chan cover his face with his sweater paws. Another press and you hear his knee hit the bottom of the table causing the surface to bounce. His hands run through his hair before he puts them in his lap, looking directly at you as you hold the remote with a puzzled look on your face. His face is a bright shade of pink. You’re still having trouble connecting the dots.

Chan points down, signaling for you to press the down arrow on the remote. You press down the button three times, undoing the damage you had done with the three other presses. Chan sighs and begins to walk over to your seat again. The only difference between last time and this time is that there was an evident bulge in his tight pants.

Chan kneels next to your seat, lowing his head since he can’t look you in the eye after seeing how you were eyeing his junk. “You know what that remote’s for?”

His voice is so soft and gentle that it makes your heart flutter. Despite his... problem, you can’t help but find him painfully adorable. Not wanting to speak too loudly, you just shake your head and look down at him.

“Will you follow me to the bathroom?” Wordlessly, you nod, him taking your wrist in his hand and practically dragging you to the public restrooms that were across the room. You don’t mind being behind him, though. He has a nice ass! He pulls you into a stall, his back against the door. “Promise not to tell anyone?”

“Chan, just tell me what this fucking remote is for.” You hold up the remote, pressing the up button right in front of his face. Chan bites his lip as you hear a light buzz from down below. The cogs are turning in your head as Chan just stares at you.

“It’s to control a vibrator,” he whines, “so if you could turn it down so I could talk-”

“Well why would I do that?” You turn it up, pressing the up arrow four times before seeing Chan writhe and almost fall to his knees, his legs shaking as he cups his erection in his pants. “Tell me baby, why’d you give me of all people this remote?”

“Y-you’re hot, and you’re c-cool... and I like you.” Chan pulls you into a hug, his arms tightly around your waist as you hug his shoulders. His head is right on your shoulder, nuzzling into you while the vibrator continues to, well, vibrate. “Please fuck me, Y/n.”

“Pull your pants down, big boy. Let me see where this vibrator is, yeah?” He nods at your command, backing up off of you and undoing his pants before dropping them to the floor. His underwear is just plain white briefs, but you can see his cock pressed against his tight underwear, a nearly perfect outline of his tip visible to you. He pulls his sweatshirt down, covering his bulge as you eye it. “Hey, no need to be shy! Do you want to stop?”

“No! No! It’s just embarrassing.” Fuck, he looks adorable. “I didn’t expect to get this far, heh.” Chan’s little laugh is so cute, and you can feel your cheeks heat up. He sighs and pulls his underwear down, his cock popping out, fully hard and already dripping with precum. “You want to see th-the vibrator?” He turns around, hands against the stall wall as he bends over. You can see the vibrating plug in his ass, his legs shaking as he feels more venerable than ever. “Is this good?”

You don’t respond. Rather, you grope Chan’s ass, spreading his cheeks apart to see the outer part of the vibrator in all it’s glory. You can see the power button on the end, but there’s no way you’re pressing that right now. One of your hands leaves his ass and goes to his cock, stroking from the base to the tip like you’re milking him for his cum. His body gets a chill when your finger runs over his slit. He wants to moan out so bad, but being in a library bathroom, that might not be the best idea right now.

You turn up the vibrator more, testing it’s limits. Already on the 6th highest setting, you want to see how far you have to take it before he cums. Chan’s breathing is erratic and heavy as you continue to jerk him off. He looks so weak in this position, but you want to make eye contact.

“Sit on the seat, baby boy.” You back away from him and turn off the vibrator from the remote, all of the pleasure leaving his body at once. Although he wouldn’t dare tell you, he was getting close until you stopped. He whines loudly, a little too loud, and right after you shut the lid to the toilet, he sits down and spreads his legs for you to get between. The vibrator feels even deeper in his ass now just from sitting. “Good boy~”

“This feels so dirty.” Chan’s eyes wonder everywhere but your face. He’s too embarrassed to even look at you right now. On the other hand, you’re staring directly at his lips, his bottom lip slightly red from his teeth. As filthy as this is, you’re too aroused to care.

“You’re the slut that wore a vibrator to the fucking library.” You lean up to his face, putting your hand on his chin to practically force him to look into your eyes. Tears well as his embarrassment fills his body, legs shaking just from the dominating look in your gaze. Chan could melt just from your aura. It’s astounding to him, how drawn he is to you despite your disinterest in him. “Don’t you have any shame, Channie~?”

“Please turn up the vibrator.” Chan’s cock is visibly throbbing between his legs, the leaky tip begging to be touched by someone who knows what Chan wants better than Chan himself, you. You laugh like a villain in a cartoon and turn up the vibrator, going up to the 6th highest setting just like before. He immediately raises his hips off the seat before you push him back down by his shoulders, your lips finally connecting with his.

With your hands snaking down his body, Chan’s mind is clouded with this overwhelming sense of neediness and wordlessness. There isn’t a thought in this man’s head aside from his cock and how slutty it feels to get a handy in a bathroom stall. Speaking of which, how did you get your hand there that fast? And why does it feel so good?

Chan moans loudly, “G-gonna cum.”

“Already?” You sigh, your hand relentlessly stroking him while you spit on his dick for more lubrication since his precum isn’t enough. “Dumb boy can’t think of anything other than cumming. Just hold it for me, alright? Or else this is all the action you’re getting from me.”

No, no, no! He can’t ruin this. He’s waited what feels like millennia to finally be touched by you. Chan takes a deep breath and tried to control himself, part of his sanity returning to him for a brief moment before you amp up the vibe, still firmly resting in his tight little ass. Chan screws his eyes shut, certain that if he were to look you in the eyes in this moment, he’d blow his load.

“Fuck, you’re so cute, baby.” You’re basically drooling over the sight before you of the innocent Bang Chan letting you corrupt him. It feels way too good to be his first, like you’re guilty of a crime you don’t regret committing. “Good boy, such a good boy.”

Chan’s whimpers get louder to the point you have to shush him and remind him this is a public restroom. Despite nodding as if he understand, his sounds just get louder.

“You ready to cum now, cutie?” At your question, Chan hums a soft yes and continues his melody of whines. “Well, we wouldn’t want to make a mess, would we?”

You get on your knees and between his legs, your soft lips wrapping around the head of his cock as you continue to jerk him off. Chan’s eyes shoot open, the visual of your mouth on his cock overwhelming him, not to mention the increasing intensity of the vibrator thanks to your generosity with the remote control. Unable to hold it in any longer, he cums down your throat, the thick ropes filling your mouth with their bitter-salty taste. The taste doesn’t matter to you, though. You’re just happy to swallow.

As Chan catches his breath, you get off of your knees and rub off any dirt from your pants. “Give me your phone.”

“Huh?”

“Give me your phone, Bang Chan.”

“Alright...”

Chan reaches in his pocket to pull out his phone and hand it to you, not before unlocking it of course. You go into his contacts and add your phone number. “Text me sometime, okay? I’d like to play with you again, baby boy.”

“S-sure.” Chan awkwardly stands up before realizing his pants are around his ankles still. He pulls them up as you step out of the crowded stall, walking back into the library. There’s still plenty of people here, and they all stare at you as you go back to your seat.

Chan certainly didn’t help in easing their suspicions, his curly hair matted to his forehead from sweat and his pants laughably crooked.

Maybe next time you should teach him how to clean up after sex.

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agustdakasuga · 4 years

Text

Between The Bloodshed | Chapter 5

Genre: Mafia!AU, Angst, Romance, Fluff

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Doctor!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: Being a freelance doctor, this was just supposed to be any other job, helping a private client and taking care of him through his recovery. But you were not expecting to get caught in something so much darker that would change your life entirely.

The boys decided to try and do something ‘normal’ to take your mind off whatever happened. All they can hope is to silently convince you to stay with them and not leave.

Warning: This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. It may contain depictions of violence, blood shed/ gore and mentions of abuse. Please read at your own discretion.

After that whole fiasco, you were sent to your room to rest. Instead of sleeping, you laid sprawled out on the ground, turning ever so often to watch Kookie hop around, wiggling his nose at you.

“Kookie.” You called. The rabbit’s ears twitched slightly, maybe a signal that it was listening to you, even if it wasn’t facing you.

“What’s going to happen to you if I leave?” You groaned. If you left the family, you could only laugh at what kind of ‘bunny-sitting’ arrangement you would have with Jungkook. Maybe you have him on weekdays while Jungkook has him on weekends or the opposite.

“(y/n)?”

“Hey, Hoseok.” You lifted a hand.

“Are you... okay?” Hoseok tilted his head as he bent down slightly. You gave him a thumbs up, making him chuckle.

“I’m going out to run some errands with the maknaes. Would you like to come along? Just to get some fresh air or something.” Hoseok invited with a hum. You thought about it.

“Give me 10 minutes.” You said.

“Take as long as you need. We’ll be at the foyer.” Hoseok laughed and closed the door. You pushed yourself to stand up. The first thing you did was put Kookie in his cage and make sure he had everything he needed while you were away. After that, you went to wash your face and change into some outing clothes, a sweater with a skater skirt and white Doc Martens.

“I always feel underdressed when you guys dress all fancy.” You sighed as you came down.

“You’re fine.” Jungkook patted your shoulder. Jimin nodded in agreement, reaching out to pat your head. The 5 of you headed out. They all decided to drive their own cars this time.

“Wanna ride with me?” Jimin asked as he put his sunglasses on. (Imagine 2019 Grammys Jimin)

“If you treasure your life, don’t.” Taehyung said from behind you. Jimin glared at his best friend, kicking his shin.

“Kookie would want you to sit with me.” Jungkook nudged your side. Now you were the one glaring at him, knowing that he was only using Kookie to try and trick you into riding in his car. Hoseok scoffed with a roll of his eyes. You decided to sit in Taehyung’s car.

“Uhh...” He blinked in shock.

“Tough luck, fellas.” Taehyung shrugged as he jogged over to the driver’s side, slipping in. You were already belted in, typing away on your phone. Taehyung clicked his tongue, putting his seatbelt on.

“Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” You replied. Taehyung raised his eyebrows, starting the engine. It roared to life.

“What errands we running?” You asked.

“We’ve got some stuff to pick up at the mall. Yoongi hyung wanted us to grab some groceries for a barbecue dinner.” He informed, not taking his eyes off the road. You nodded with a soft hum. Another revving engine made you turn your head out the window. Jimin was on your left and Jungkook was on your right, both purposefully revving their engines as a challenge.

“Hang on.” Taehyung mumbled. Your hands could only grip your seatbelt as Jimin gave Taehyung a teasing wave, his car inching forward. Jungkook straight up gave the finger.

“It’s a race they want.” Taehyung gripped the steering wheel. The car lurched forward, revving loudly.

“This is how dumb people die.” You scowled.

“Live a little.” Taehyung smirked. That was when you realised that Hoseok wasn’t involved in this little race. Maybe he was the only mature one to not participate in such dangerous-

“No one is crazy enough to challenge Hobi hyung. It only leads to humiliation.” Taehyung replied, as if he heard your thoughts out loud.

“We’re here.” Taehyung pulled into the parking lot.

“Rematch!” Jungkook growled as he came out. Taehyung stuck his tongue out at the youngest. Jimin rolled his eyes, slinging an arm around your shoulders to leave the two. Hoseok was already there, waiting.

“Took you long enough.” He scoffed.

“Told you.” Taehyung whispered as he walked past you. You shook your head before following them. This wasn’t some ordinary mall, it was a higher end mall with only luxury item shops. You’ve only been here twice, with your parents. The first place you visited was the Gucci store.

“Good afternoon, sirs and madam.” The staff bowed deeply as the manager stepped out to greet the 4 boys. You blinked, standing there quietly. The entire store had been cleared out.

“Please, take your time to peruse while I prepare your items.” The manager bowed as he disappeared. Jimin and Taehyung headed to the shelf.

“You look lost.” Jungkook snickered.

“When Hoseok said you guys were running errands, I wasn’t exactly picturing this.” You shrugged, sitting down on one of the armchairs. Jungkook sat in the other chair next to yours, typing away on his phone.

“Mr Kim, Mr Jung.” The manager came back. Taehyung and Hoseok went to the counter to inspect their items while Jungkook continued to sit with you and Jimin browsed the shelves, carrying the different bags. He looked at himself in the mirror. Jimin was good looking no matter what he carried. He seemed conflicted on which bag to buy.

“We can come back for it later, hyung.” Jungkook yawned. Hoseok and Taehyung handed their cards to the manager and it was time to move on.

“Did you guys bring me on this errand run just to prove that you have money?” You raised an eyebrow with crossed arms when you arrived outside a Louis Vuitton store.

“That wasn’t our intention, (y/n).” Hoseok said, frowning slightly.

“I’m kidding, Hobi.” You chuckled.

“Hobi?”

“Oh... my bad. Taehyung was calling you that while talking to me and it just came out.” You rubbed the back of your neck as you walked in through the double doors of the store with him.

“No, I like it. Call me Hobi.” He grinned. You laughed but nodded your head. Once again, the store had been cleared out for the group. The staff treated the boys like they were royalty, offering champagne, an assortment of sweets and escorting them to the private viewing room.

“Ring this up for me.” Jungkook handed the manager a duffel bag that he spotted on the way to the room. The manager, with gloved hands, received it with a bow.

“I’ve never seen anyone shop like this.” You commented.

“Don’t you always work with rich clients?” Jimin asked as the 5 of you took your seats.

“Yeah but they’re mostly really old and bedridden or kids that don’t know their right foot from their left.” You face palmed. The boys laughed, all of them sipping their champagne, except for Taehyung who opted for some fancy tea instead. You watched as they had their own items, disappearing into the changing rooms to try them on.

“Excuse me?” Someone tapped your shoulder. You turned around to see one of the female store clerks.

“Can I ask who you are? The 7 members have been coming here for a while and this is the first time I see someone with them.” She asked. You frowned slightly, giving her a weird look.

“Does it matter... who I am?” You tilted your head.

“I mean, you obviously don’t look to be on the same level as them... So I was just wondering.”

“Well, you’re right, I’m not on the same level as them. I’m actually above them.” You smiled innocently. She blinked at you before stifling a laugh, as if you cracked a joke.

“Are you just an employee?” She giggled.

“She’s right, you know? She actually has the power to kill us if she wanted to.” Someone slung their arm around your shoulders. The girl’s eyes widened as she came face to face with Jimin. But this time, instead of a smile, Jimin had a stoic look on his face. The girl grew flustered.

“If I killed you, I wouldn’t get paid. So I rather continue just baby sitting all of you.” You rolled your eyes. Jimin threw his head back in laughter.

“I...I...” The girl stuttered.

“Manager-nim, I thought we had a rule that if you wanted us to keep coming back here, no one else is to talk to us except you. ” Jimin turned to the manager with a raised eyebrow.

“Is your staff that naive to think that Dr. (y/l/n) is not part of the family when she literally walked in with us?” Jimin chuckled. The manager’s eyes widened.

“I’m so very sorry, Mr Park!” He gave a deep bow.

“It’s not me that you should be apologising to.” Jimin said. The manager turned to you and bowed deeply, pushing his staff’s head down to bow to you as well. You gave Jimin a side glance.

“Doc!” You heard Jungkook call you and turned to leave Jimin with the manager. As you left, you saw Jimin whisper something into the manager’s ear. But you shook your head, not wanting to be any more involved in that. Jungkook saw you and waved, showing you his outfit. It was a very nice denim jacket with the LV logos on it.

“It’s nice.” You nodded.

“Just... nice?” Jungkook scrunched his nose. You shrugged.

“Wow, tough crowd, Kook.” Hoseok chuckled at the maknae, adjusting his blazer as he stared at himself in the mirror. Jungkook scowled at the elder’s comment but pouted at you.

“You look handsome, Jungkook.” You coaxed. Finally, he smiled in triumph and headed back into the changing room.

“Anything caught your eye yet?” Taehyung asked as he stepped out, his new clothes folded neatly over his arm. You shook your head, never being one to enjoy shopping in high end shops. You were fine with middle range clothes.

“Have you guys ever thrift shopped?” You thought out loud.

“Of course! We weren’t always rich, you know?” Jimin chuckled. You facepalmed, obviously not getting your message across to them. After they paid for their things, you followed them out. The employee from before was no where in sight.

“I promise nothing like that will ever happen again, Mr Park.” The manager gave another deep bow to the boys as he walked you out.

“I’ll hold you to that.” Jimin smiled as he put his sunglasses on. For some reason, Jimin’s words had an air of sinister to it, sending a shiver down your spine. You cast him a glance.

“Hmm?” He tilted his head.

“Nothing.” You shook your head and continued walking with them.

“We’re almost done. This is the last store.” Jungkook stretched his arms. Balenciaga. He walked in and just like the first two, the staff all bowed, only the manager speaking to the boys while the others didn’t even dare to meet their eye. You sat with Taehyung, watching him play games on his phone while the others did their thing.

“When are we going grocery shopping?” You asked.

“Excited, are we?” Taehyung chuckled, not looking up from his phone screen. His tongue stuck out from the corner of his lip in concentration.

“No, I just wanna get this done. You guys are super boring. I’d rather stare at the wall than continue to do this for the rest of the day.” You rolled your eyes. You heard a small gasp from behind you.

“Did you hear what she just said to Mr Kim?”

“You surprise people outside the family too.” Taehyung commented, a hint that he heard the employees behind you.

“You’re just ordinary people. I don’t give special treatment out, no matter what societal or financial status.” You crossed your arms with a scoff.

“That’s why we like you.” He chuckled. You saw Jungkook bringing 3 boxes of shoes to the cashier counter. He leaned against the marble counter as the manager grabbed his other items from the back room. Jungkook met eyes with you, winking flirtatiously. You shook your head, turning away.

RINGGGGGG

“I told you guys to be back by 5!”

“Hyung, we’re almost done. After this, we’re heading to the grocery store.” Hoseok sighed. You snickered, hearing the angry Yoongi on the other line.

“You guys are never on time! I should have sent someone else to go get the ingredients instead of you.”

“Alright, alright. Calm down, hyung. We’ll be quick, I promise. I’ll even buy you your favourite lamb skewers, okay?” Hoseok coaxed. Yoongi just seemed to hang up on him.

“We needa go, guys. Yoongi hyung is not pleased that we’re late.” Hoseok informed the 3 younger ones. You all rushed out of there, throwing the shopping into the cars and speeding to the nearest supermarket. You split up into 2 teams to try and get as many things as possible, in the fastest time. Jungkook and Jimin followed you to the meat counter.

“Can we get lamb skewers too?” Jimin ordered. Jungkook stacked the beef and prawns in the cart.

“This is a lot of food.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll finish it.” Jungkook waved you off. After Jimin got a few trays of lamb skewers, you got some ramen and rice to eat with the meat. Hoseok and Taehyung got the drinks, some tools for grilling and vegetables.

“Ice cream?” Jungkook offered. You nodded, taking one as you all paid. While waiting for the cashier to scan everything, you opened your ice cream.

“Do you have a girlfriend? You’re very good looking.” The cashier asked Jimin, who was waiting to pay.

“I do.” Jimin nodded without hesitation, pointing to you, who’s back was turned to him. The cashier nodded awkwardly, turning to Jungkook instead, who was innocently eating his ice cream as he picked up some of the bagged items at the end of the cashier.

“My wife would not like you staring at me.” Jungkook said cooly. Following Jungkook’s stare, the cashier saw his eyes on you, who was trying your best to ignore an overly animated Taehyung.

“You two keep staring. If you needed help, you could just ask.” You walked over.

“Nope, we’re good. Enjoy your ice cream.” Jungkook patted your head while you glared at him. Jimin snickered, paying for the groceries.

“Don’t make her angry, Kook.” Jimin chided. The cashier’s eyes widened as she looked at you and the boys. Jimin grew annoyed, snapping his fingers at her. She jumped, quickly swiping Jimin’s card and handing over the receipt.

“Let’s not waste more time.” Taehyung said. As the cars approached the mansion, the boys had the staff waiting for them.

“Get everything out and bring them to our rooms.” The boys said. The staff bowed, bringing things in. You were going to help them but Jin came out, escorting you back into the house with his hands on your shoulders. Yoongi was in the backyard, barking orders at Namjoon, who was trying to set up the grill for the food.

“Don’t be too hard on him, Yoongles.” You teased with a shake of your head.

“You guys are late.” Yoongi hissed.

“Not my fault. I was merely a follower.” You shrugged and yet, watched in amusement as Yoongi just stood there, continuing to get frustrated with Namjoon until Jin stepped in.

“Aren’t you going to wash up?” Namjoon asked.

“In a little bit. This is way too amusing to miss.” You giggled to yourself. Namjoon chuckled along, patting your head softly.

“Well, I’m going to see how the younger ones are doing.” Namjoon said and left. You decided to head in as well, going to your room to change into something more comfortable. You took Kookie with out, feeding him and taking him down to the backyard with you.

“Leave us.” You heard Taehyung say to someone.

“But sir-”

“Didn’t you hear what we said? You have a lot of nerve even coming here after what happened. If I find him before you do, it’ll not only be his death.” Taehyung barked and there was a scurrying of footsteps.

“(y/n)?” Someone called and you jumped, immediately acting like you had just walked over.

“Sorry, had to feed Kookie.” You explained as you forced your best smile. Taehyung looked over at you, giving you a small smile.

“I’m hungry!” He stretched his arms. The others were already outside, helping to grill the meats and set up the rest of the things. You placed Kookie on the grass.

“Jungkook, go cook the ramen.” Namjoon said. You followed Jungkook to help, even if he refused. As you cooked ramen with Jungkook, the staff left the kitchen immediately, keeping their heads down. You chopped some spring onions for Jungkook as he started opening all the ramen packs. When you were down, you hopped onto the counter to sit.

“Does it still hurt?” Jungkook asked. You tilted your head in confusion.

“Your wrist.” He clarified with a clear of his throat, the tips of his ears turning red in embarrassment.

“It’s fine, it’ll heal in a few days.” You shrugged. Jungkook opened his mouth to say something when your phone rang, cutting the conversation short. You excused yourself to answer the phone.

“Mum... You know that I- Oh, hey dad. Yes, I know. Okay.” Jungkook heard you sigh as you spoke on the phone.

“This Friday? Well, you know I’m working. I’ll have to ask them for a night off... Yes. But if I go, promise no setting me up with one of your colleagues’ sons again, that goes for you too, mum.” You tried to sound like you were joking but you were serious.

“I’ll see you on Friday then.” You hummed and hung up.

“Sorry about that.” You said as Jungkook turned around to stir the ramen. He shook his head, putting the lid on the pot and turning the flame off.

“Let’s bring this out.” He instructed. You grabbed the portable gas stove and walked out to the backyard with Jungkook. The others were seated, except Jin and Hoseok, who were still cooking.

“Ramen!” Jimin cheered as you placed the stove down. Jungkook placed the pot over it.

“Let’s eat.” Hoseok placed the plates of meat down.

“Drink?” Namjoon offered you a beer. You nodded, taking the opened amber bottle from him. This dinner felt strangely domestic. Every other dinner was prepared and served by the staff of the house in that professional, stuffy dining room. Now, the staff were not around and everything was prepared and cooked by your bunch.

“Let’s eat.” Jin said and everything dug in. You made your lettuce wraps with meat dipped in sauce and kimchi.

“The beef is good.” You said, putting a wrap on your plate. Yoongi wordlessly placed a few places of beef onto your plate for you before continuing to eat his own food.

“Aww, thank you Yoongles.” You placed a hand over your chest. He rolled his eyes. The rest of the evening was spent under the night sky, just like having a normal dinner with your not so normal clients.

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worstloki · 4 years

Note

I’m a fashion designer, and for whatever reason, I decided to analyze Loki’s TVA outfit.

First of all, the main color is beige. That is a stupid choice for a prison uniform of any kind. The whole point behind the black and white stripes stereotype is that they’re hard to hide, so if a prisoner escaped, they would be easy to track down. Same principle with the orange jumpsuits.

But this thing is beige. And even worse, there’s a grayish-blue undershirt looking thing beneath it. Beige is everywhere in nature. It’s so easy to blend in, and it’s also light enough that if you get some dirt on it, you have instant camouflage. Pretty much if the TVA isn’t in space or the North Pole, Loki could easily blend in with his surroundings. Same with the gray-blue undershirt- lends itself immediately to MORE camouflage. The only possible hang-up is the bright red-orange logo on the back and lining on the sleeves of the beige shirt and the lapels of the gray-blue shirt. But those wouldn’t be too hard to disguise- all Loki has to do is roll up the beige shirt’s sleeves a little bit, and tuck the gray-blue one under the beige one. The logo on the back is pretty much the only thing that would be hard to hide.

Also, the thing is short-sleeved. Not always a problem, but in this case, Loki is super pale. If he escaped from the TVA, wherever that is, all he has to do is get a little dirt on his arms and face, and he’ll be almost invisible.

I can’t see the pants too well, but they look to be the same beige, which is dumb for the same reasons. The shoes, though, look white. Literally the easiest color to get dirty, making it the easiest color to hide. (And also- you have a beige shirt, beige pants, and a gray-blue undershirt. Where the heck does white come in? The TVA would be way better off making the shoes that bright red-orange- but even if they did that, Loki can just...take them off. Speaking of that red-orange: yikes. Just yikes.)

In conclusion, the TVA is massively stupid, and not just because the outfit is hideous. It’s a prison uniform, so obviously fashion isn’t their main goal here. But it’s also pretty much the dumbest possible color scheme/design for a prison uniform.

Thank you, I can now complain about the outfit knowing it is

officially

atrocious :)

#thank you for this insight Mx. Anon #I don’t need to be a fashion designer to know the outfit actually is terrible #including the prisoner outfit #all of time in their hands but not enough to come up with a decent looking fit #it’s so sad

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scaryscarecrows · 3 years

Text

I'd Crawl on Broken Glass to be the One That Laughs Last

Gotham’s gone straight to Hell in a handbasket. Scarecrow’s dead, which is no loss, but Bruce is missing, Arkham blew up for reasons unknown, and the Arkham Knight’s Militia is still in control. Oh, sure, there’s a fair chunk of them in lockup, but they’ve been getting steadily more riled as the days wear on (three days since the Asylum, their boss has to be dead, who’s in charge now?), and the tanks are still running patrols, the bombs are still in the road, and there are checkpoints and watchtowers everywhere.

Jim thinks they’re waiting for something. There’s been no assault, not like he thought there might be. The street thugs and any uncaptured Rogues are still allowed to run wild, though the watchtowers have been spotted taking shots at something big flying around out there. Honestly, they’re even leaving the police alone, for the most part...but they will still shoot at the cars if they get too close. It’s like they’re on babysitting duty or something until the Knight gets back. It’s unsettling.

He’s out doing a little exploration-he doubts they’ve killed Batman, or they’d be gone, but Bruce still isn’t around-when something drops onto the roof of his car. He hits the brakes, tires screeching, and narrowly avoids sliding into a tank crossing the road.

Breathe.

Jim has no time to go for his gun before the driver’s side door gets ripped open by what Jim can only describe as the Hulk. The man outside is only a little smaller than Bane*. There’s a rocket launcher on his back and Jim’s sure he’s not the one that landed on the car, because the car would be a pancake.

He’s proven right a second later when the polar opposite of the giant jumps down. That said, this guy might be tiny, but he moves like he knows half a dozen ways to kill you. The cherry on the disaster sundae? Both of them are wearing army fatigues.

Militia. Shit.

“Boys,” he says, already planning on how to get that rocket launcher from the big one, “don’t be stupid.”

The little one doesn’t say anything. The big one laughs and before Jim can move, he’s been pulled out of the car.

“Boss wants to see ya.”

So they have a boss. Who. Who is it? One of their own? Riddler? Penguin? Goddamn Deathstroke? Who is his new problem?

“No.”

“Sorry.” The man does sound mostly sorry. “Not really askin’. C’mon.”

Jim tries to slam his elbow into the man’s collarbone. He doesn’t even really get to move before the little guy grabs his arm and wrenches it behind his back. Not hard enough to dislocate it, but hard enough to be a warning.

“We don’t want to have to hurt you, Commissioner,” the big man says. “We’re just picking you up.”

“Go to Hell.”

A gun presses against his back. Fine. He’ll go. But he won’t like it.

* * *

He’s disarmed, bundled into an APC, and blindfolded. After way too many sharp turns and double-backs, he’s...somewhere in the underside of the city. He’s thinking over near Drescher.

Wherever it is, he’s pulled out of the APC, taken inside somewhere, and handed off to new hands. When the blindfold comes off, his kidnappers are nowhere to be seen.

The men in charge of him now (and only for now, give him time…) are less...unnerving...than the other two. One is wearing the white uniform of a medic, and the other is having a snack. Cashews? Cashews.

The medic is a man on a mission. Jim doesn’t even manage to get out a, ‘you’ll be sorry’ before the man’s turning on his heel, jaw working furiously, and snapping, “Come on.”

“Where are we going.”

“Boss wants to see you, won’t listen to reason. This way.”

He stalks off and the snacker chuckles.

“Cashew?”

“No.”

“Suit yourself.” They follow the medic down a crumbling hallway. “They didn’t scare you too much, did they?”

“What’s with the good-cop-bad-cop routine?” he demands. “Is your friend up there gonna come back and threaten to carve my face off?”

The man just laughs.

“Probably, but he does that to everyone.”

“Sometime today!”

Huh.

Jim thinks they might be in the old mall. Scarecrow had been driving that way when something had happened, and, well, if Jim were going to have an evil base of operations, this would be a good one. Lot of ways in and out, nobody ever comes down here anymore-too dangerous-and it’s big, big enough to hold tanks and soldiers and whatever else these boys have. When they round a corner, he sees a familiar logo and decides that yes, that’s where they are. Hm.

They round another corner and end up in the back of the building. Jim’s not sure what this was, but there’s a corridor lined with doors. The medic stops in front of one and turns, hands clasped behind his back.

“Twenty minutes and no more,” he snarls at Jim. “You’re lucky you get that many minutes. You try anything, you might live to regret it. Might. You tire him out, out you go, I don’t care if it’s been two minutes. Don’t touch shit, don’t knock shit down, don’t--”

“I think he’s got the picture,” his other escort soothes. “Don’t terrorize him.”

“Humph. With the amount of work I had to put in to keep his dumb ass alive, I’m entitled to terrorize people.”

“Still.”

“And I’ll tell you something else. You lay a finger, one solitary finger on him, you so much as breathe too hard--”

“There won’t be anything left to bury,” the other man says, smiles with all his teeth. “Here you go, Commissioner.”

“Twenty. Minutes.”

And then he’s shoved into a room with--and good God, how--the Arkham Knight.

The Knight is lying in bed. He looks the worse for wear, but Jim can’t quite muster up pity for him. This...this is his fault. Gotham, Bruce, Barbara…

He swallows down the rage. Not because it’s the right thing to do, but because the Knight’s not alone. Jim supposes they wouldn’t just leave him unattended, not with those injuries, but still.

The Knight doesn’t seem to notice Jim. He’s certainly not looking at him. He’s looking at the laptop the other man has. Right now, at this exact second, he looks like a sick kid, wan and tired, eyes fluttering like he’s fighting to stay awake. But he’s not. Robin or not, he’s...the Knight’s not that boy anymore. Robin wouldn’t have done this, any of this. Robin’s dead.

“Sir.” The other man here isn’t wearing a uniform, he’s wearing jeans and a raggedy flannel that hangs open over some sort of band shirt. But his bearing is still that of a soldier’s, and the rifle leaning against the wall by his chair is top-of-the-line. “Gordon’s here.”

“Hrm?”

“Remember? You wanted to see him.” The Knight blinks a few times, heavy and confused, and tries to lever himself up before his companion reaches over to pin his shoulder. “Don’t do that.”

More confused silence. Now that he’s moved his head, Jim can see his pupils are blown wide. That’s not a surprise. He’s pretty sure he was in Arkham when it came down, and he hadn’t looked well before that.

Serves him right, he thinks, remembering the cuts on Barbara’s cheeks and chin. Serves the bastard right.

He keeps his mouth shut. The laptop has been closed and set aside, and the rifle is now in its owner’s lap. It’s casual enough, but the threat’s there all the same: you’ll go through me to get to him.

He wonders, a bit, what drives these men. He doesn’t really care, but he wonders a little all the same. Even the ones in the cells have been resolute that ‘the boss’ will get them out, that he’s got everything in hand, just you wait and see.

...in their defense, Jim had thought he had to be dead, and yet here he is. So.

“S’right,” the Knight finally breathes. He sounds terrible, and Jim suddenly matches the purple swelling on his throat to handprints. That scares him. Not out of pity or sympathy, but because what little he’s seen of the man says he can handle himself. Whoever did that… “S’right.”

“You up for it?”

He’d better be. Jim was kidnapped off the street for this.

“Yes.” Good. “Glad to see you’re unharmed.”

No thanks to you, Jim doesn’t snap, resolutely ignores the memory of the Knight holding up his hands and telling Scarecrow, voice painfully earnest, to take him and let Jim and his men and Robin leave in one piece. He settles for a curt nod, can’t quite muster up a, wish I could say the same.

The Knight pulls in a painful-sounding breath and drops his head to the side.

“Bring up the footage for Commissioner Gordon, would you?”

“Yessir.” The laptop returns, balanced delicately over the rifle. Jim doesn’t know if he wants to know what’s going on. “Hang on...give it a sec to load…”

The Knight moves and visibly bites back a wince, but the new angle means that Jim can see the full extent of the bruising on his neck.

“There we go--you okay, boss?”

“Ribs,” he breathes. “They don’t like it when people zipline into them.”

What.

“Need me to call--”

“No.” He swallows hard and beckons Jim closer. “M’fine. Just sore. And stiff.” He clears his throat, grimacing. “You worry too much.”

“I worry exactly the right amount.”

“M’just not used to being still this long--”

“Deal,” his friend says sharply. The Knight just grins, but that annoys the other guy. “Did you miss the flatline bit?”

“Technically?”

“I--never mind.” He makes an irritated noise in the back of his throat. “Never mind...okay, all set.”

He turns the laptop around and Jim hesitates before perching on the very edge of the bed. Nothing terrible happens to him.

“This is footage from my helmet. How it kept going after that level of trauma, I’ll never know, but my IT department managed to recover it remotely.”

The footage picks up in a dark area, abandoned sewer network or something, probably, and it’s glitchy and stuttery.

Bruce has been caught on camera before, but not like this. This is...savage, animalistic. He comes out of nowhere, dodging gunfire and seemingly oblivious to the shouts of surprise, and moves in via a flying kick to the camera itself, which goes white and static-y for a second. A few of them come up behind him and suffer backhands and powerful kicks for their troubles, and then Bruce fills up the frame, shoulders positioned like he’s got his arms out and...and...

He looks at the Knight, looks at the bruises around his neck, and looks back at the screen in time to see Bruce going down and being dragged backwards.

“He do this to you?”

The look the man gives him is so reminiscent of the little boy Jim remembers that it makes his head spin. It screams, I know you’re not really that stupid...right?

“Well, I didn’t do it to myself.”

“--okay, sir, I’m just gonna…”

The helmet moves and Jim spots the medic from earlier before it gets set on the ground, facing Bruce. Bruce is chained to a pipe, seemingly unconscious.

“Don’t talk, just nod. Can you breathe okay?”

There’s an obvious cut--they don’t want to share it all, apparently--and then Bruce stirs and starts...giggling. Jim knows that giggle.

“What the hell.”

The Knight shudders and burrows under his blankets.

“It’s complicated. We’re reasonably sure he’s been eliminated, or at the very least contained, but--” A hand moves, presumably indicating himself. “I made it out. He might have, too.”

His friend closes his laptop and sets it aside.

“We’ve got teams sweeping Arkham’s grounds to the best of our ability,” he says. “Unfortunately, we are not a rescue team and as such are not fully equipped to handle the more unstable areas. That said, given the police department’s...track record...we would very much prefer that your men stay out of our way until we either find the individual formerly known as the Batman, or definitively confirm his demise. We’re hoping that at the very least, any injuries he may have sustained slowed him down, but we can’t prove that, given the lack of video footage for the incident.”

“It’s our understanding that Batman has, at least for the time being, lost his fight against the effects of J.” The Knight swallows. “Of Joker’s blood. I attempted to contain him--”

“Contain, my ass,” his friend grumbles. The Knight ignores him.

“I attempted to contain him,” he says again, “via...ah…”

“He blew up the goddamn asylum with himself and Batman inside,” comes the sharp interjection. “In case you managed to miss that.”

Jim had not managed to miss that, thank you very much.

“I noticed,” he says dryly. The Knight huffs a painful-sounding laugh and falls silent.

There’s. There’s a lot Jim wants to say. The Knight was Robin, and Joker killed him (and made sure they all knew it, that tape, good God, he’d sent it to everyone and Jim remembers Dove bursting into tears when she tried to tell him), but he’s not dead now, and look at what he’s done.

Much as he’d like to demand answers--or at least bring half of that up--he won’t. He doubts the man with the laptop will react well; now that he really looks, the man’s tense, clearly poised to move if he has to.

Jim can probably take him. He absolutely can’t take the others that will come at the commotion.

There’s a small dinging sound, and silence, and then an urgent, “Sir. Sir.”

“Hrm?”

“We got something.”

The Knight blinks a few times before half-surging up and demanding, “Let’s go, let’s go, then, help me up--”

“Chair or Trent?”

“Neither--”

“Chair or Trent.”

“Chair,” he grumbles after a second. “But I can walk on my own--”

“Yeah, but if the doc sees you, he’ll be mad. Here it is.”

Jim moves, semi-prepared to offer to help but not really wanting to, but they must have a system, because the Knight’s in the chair with a blanket in short order.

“I feel like a cheap Bond villain,” he’s complaining now. “One that rolls down a ramp into an electrified pool or something.”

“Maybe next time, you’ll consider your life choices, sir.”

“They weren’t supposed to come back to haunt me!”

“I know, sir.”

“Christ...what do we have.”

Should he…? Sure, apparently.

What a day. He needs a drink. A good strong one.

“My understanding is it’s better seen than explained, sir. No body, I don’t think.”

“Fantastic...the bastard’ll survive anything.”

Jim privately thinks the same applies to him, but he doesn’t share that thought. He doubts it will go over well.

The computer room isn’t crammed full of people. There’s one guy on the monitors and another one-one of the ones from before, actually, the one with the cashews-lounging in a chair next to him, drinking a Coke.

“What’s going on, you said something turned up--” He doesn’t quite hide a shiver, but when the other people in the room zero in on him, he shakes his head and insists, “M’fine.”

“Boss, I can link this to a laptop if you’re s’posed to be in bed--”

“M’fine. Pull up the footage.”

“You’re not gonna like it,” monitor-guy says, spinning around and wheeling over to make room. “Looks like he got out, same as you.”

“Seriously?”

“Would I joke when it mattered, sir? Here, look. See this?” He makes the screen bigger. “That look familiar to you?”

It certainly looks familiar to Jim. Bruce’s cowl is difficult to mistake, and there it is, crumpled in the rubble. It’s singed, and one of the ears is broken, but it is Bruce’s cowl.

“Damn,” the Knight breathes, and...Jim doesn’t like admitting it, not after tonight, but...he looks so young. A scared little boy, that’s all. “That’s not good.”

“What do we do, sir?”

“We don’t even know for sure if he’s out.” The Knight’s friend leans over the chair to get a better look at the monitor. “Maybe he tried getting out and died, we don’t--”

“I made it out,” the Knight says quietly.

There’s a wave of annoyed grumbling that includes at least one, ‘self-sacrificing dumbass’ and a, ‘in spite of your best efforts’. Jim has to wonder about that one. He can’t muster up that much sympathy, but he does wonder.

The Knight just sighs and adjusts his blanket around his shoulders.

“Fair. Anyways, seeing as I found a way out, it’s not unlikely that he’s done the same, barring the. The possibility of an instant death. I suspect we wound up in a pocket, though, so.”

“You didn’t notice anything on your way out?” Jim demands. “Was he right with you?”

“I was--”

“Concussed and bleeding to death,” a new voice snaps. “And in no shape to be walking, let alone note-taking. What the hell are you doing out of bed?”

“Briefing the--”

“Literally anybody else can do that.” The angry voice belongs to the medic from before. “You don’t seem to understand what ‘flatline’ means, sir, or maybe you’ve just got a death wish, but tough fucking titty, said the kitty, you’re not dying on my watch. Say bye-bye to the commissioner, you’re going back to bed and staying there or on God, I’ll put you in a coma and keep you there until you don’t have so much as a bruise. Do I make myself clear?”

Jim expects argument. None of the Robins ever let Batman boss them around to that extent, and he knows damn well that if he’d backtalked his superiors like that, he’d be in, frankly, deep shit. But the Knight just sighs.

“He’s been here long enough, anyway.” Long enough for what? “Keep your men out of our way, Commissioner. No offense, but Batman existed for a reason. You can’t handle him.”

Jim bristles.

“Can’t handle--”

“You know it’s true,” he snaps, and straightens up, turns to the man with the cashews. “Call everyone back.” All of a sudden that’s no longer a little boy playing Soldiers. That’s the man that crippled Gotham within hours. “I want everyone off the streets and back at base, now. Do not engage under any circumstances.”

“Yessir.”

“Get into the street cameras,” he continues. “If a rat comes out of a sewer, I want to see it. I want whatever drones we have left out and searching, but leave the car alone. That hasn’t worked so far and I’m not losing more--”

He must breathe wrong, because he suddenly starts coughing, harsh, violent whoops from down in his chest.

“Get him back to bed,” the medic orders once the coughs cease. “Or he’ll be Snow White and believe you me, nobody is getting in here to kiss him awake.”

“Jones--”

“We can handle this, sir. We’ll let you know if something comes up.”

“But--”

“You trained us for this, remember? We’re professionals.”

The Knight falls silent, one hand still pressed against his ribs, and finally melts back into his chair.

“Fine,” he says at last. “Bye, commish.”

He doesn’t recognize the men that take him back. The streets are empty, though, barring the patrolling drones, and they make it back to the GCPD unscathed.

Unfortunately, Jim returns to, quite frankly, a disaster. The officers on duty are tied up, and the militia cells are empty. Not a man left. He’s just freeing Cash when the broadcast screen crackles and the Knight appears on it, face serious.

“I mean it, Commissioner,” he says. “Keep out of the way, or I’ll put you in a cell instead.”

“You--”

“Tell Bullock hey for me, would ya?” He leans forward. “Stay safe.”

Click.

THE END

*I’m figuring Bane is bigger than the Giant Mooks because his boss fight consists of you jumping on him to slash his Venom tubes AND because he can and will run you over, while Giant Mooks of any affiliation are not rideable and don’t run.

#fic #jason todd #arkhamverse #jim gordon #the squad #laughing batman timeline #happy birthday jason!#i still love you even if canon doesn't #(also friendly reminder that jay is a TACTICIAN)#(gotham didn't invade itself)#(he might be hurt and loopy but fuck with him at your peril)

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tsuki-xoxo · 4 years

Note

okayy so hc idea!! how about bakugo, todoroki , and any other characters you want to do having their gf ask them to pick an outfit for her for a mayb a date or just to play dress up?? like she wants to see if they would dress her up like a total badass, street style, etc. OKAY LOVE YOU GREY MWAH 🥰🥰

Pick n Choose

Pairing: Bakugo Katsuki x Reader, Todoroki Shoto x Reader

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: I hope this is to your liking Avery 🥺🥺 (btw sorry this came out later than I expected, tumblr was trying to throw these damn hands smhh)

Today, you and Bakugo were supposed to go on a 'wing it' date. Basically, you guys would just head out together and spontaneously decide what to do. So, that meant a lot of walking in the center of Musutafu, Japan.

Bakugo was already dressed in casual clothes, aiming for comfortability over style, but he still looked like a five-course meal. Dressed with some loose cargo pants and a black tee with a random logo... you could stare all day— SIMP!!

Anyways, back to the regularly scheduled program:

He was splayed out on your bed scrolling through his phone waiting oh so patiently for you to get ready

"Hurry the fuck up, dumbass, shouldn't take you two hours to get dressed."

Pouting, you cross your arms over your chest and give your best puppy dog eyes (you lil brat) "can you please choose for me, babe."

Damn you. You know that your boyfriend considers your beautiful glossy eyes to be your best quality and just look at him like that—

His cheeks begin to glow a furious shade of red when he realizes the corner of your lips are twitching into a soft smile as he's caught staring. He just can't help but be memorized by your beauty.

He grumbles under his breath as he tries to hide his blush from behind his phone before it slips out of his hand and right hooks his nose, but we won't talk about that.

He begrudgingly gets up from the bed and searches through your closet, all while he mutters profanities under his breath.

For someone as emotionally constipated as he is, he subconsciously, or consciously chose an outfit that resembled his own. Don't you dare tease him about it though, he'll burn your clothes out of embarrassment.

He's a total geek for street style because it feels the most casual and comfortable to him.

Once you're dressed and ready to go, you catch your boyfriend's scarlet eyes following you, giving you ‘The Look™️.’

His eyes gradually move down your figure, and he gives you his signature smug ass smirk before looking away as he shoves his hands in his pockets. Leaving you a flustered mess.

You and Todoroki started dating recently, and as an upcoming date, he was taking you out to the festival.

As you both were relaxing in your dorm room, you couldn’t help but stare at your closet door, biting your lip as nerves swam through you.

You honestly had no idea what to wear, and you were this close to calling it quits and faking a stomach bug— you don’t do so well under stress.

Todoroki notices your slumping figure right away. “Are you alright?” he asks, his bangs brushing his forehead as he tilts his head.

One glance at his heterochromatic eyes had you throwing your plan out and moving to plan b, straight up telling him how you felt.

You know it’s not that serious, but you’ve never been to a festival before. What do people even wear there? Not only that, though, you just started dating the boy you’ve been crushing on for who knows how long. What were you even supposed to do on a date as an official couple?

“(Y/N)?”

“I don’t know what to wear,” you pout. “I know it sounds dumb...”

He sighed, a sideways smile on his face as he gently ruffled the top of your head. “Would you like me to choose for you?”

Your smile was so bright and blinding, you found your worries melting away as he made his way into your closest.

He soon came out with your favorite plain white oversized sweater and a jean skirt, reminding you of the soft girl aesthetics that have been trending lately.

Once you’re dressed, you throw on a couple of clips in your hair, finishing the look. Turning to face him, you ask, “good?” shyly presenting yourself.

In which he responds by blatantly staring, his blue and grey eyes moving up and down your figure as a faint blush covers his cheeks. “Very much adequate.” He said as if it were an objective fact he simply observed, and you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed at his bluntness.

“R-really?” You giggled, bashfully looking away before you became a flustered mess with the newfound butterflies that danced in your stomach.

#asks with grey #bnha bakugo katsuki #mha bakugo katsuki #bnha todoroki shoto #mha todoroki shoto #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha requests #bakugou x reader #todoroki x reader #bnha headcannons

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unfilteredaj · 3 years

Text

A night out (Rorschach x Reader)

(A/N- This is probably SO OUT OF CHARACTER and it's kind of dumb but I love Rorschach and wanted to write a self-indulgent ficlet)

(Warnings: EXTREMELY corny and self indulgent fluff, Cursing, mention of being followed/a stalker... nothing really that bad tbh.)

---

Rorschach wandered the streets of New York, the crisp chill of the night clearing his head more and more each second. Even though his friends had all been more than welcoming of his couch-surfing, he needed some time away from them. Time without the pressure of a case to solve.

His little bubble of quiet was burst by something odd, to say the least. A girl he'd briefly noticed a minute or two earlier strolled up to him, giving a wave and an excited "Hey!"

She threw her arms around his neck as if he were an old friend. She was wearing a small backpack over a hoodie with a band logo on it and looked no older than her early 20s.

Rorschach froze, confused. He obviously didn't know this girl.

"I am so sorry to just barge up like this but I'm pretty sure I'm being followed. Please just walk me to a bar or something." She whispered, sounding frantic. He looked around, seeing a suspicious looking guy a few hundred feet behind them. Rorschach nodded, playing his part and hugging the girl back. She looped her arm with his as they walked.

…

"What were you even doing out so late? Especially alone?” He asked after a few minutes.

"I dunno. I wanted to see the city at night, I guess. It was kinda dumb to go alone." She laughed, her tension melting. Her giggling strangely reminded Rorschach of the jingling sound her many bracelets and rings made. She un-looped her arm from his, thrusting her hand out for a handshake.

"I'm (Y/N). Thanks for helping me back there."

He returned her handshake, her fiery enthusiasm annoying and a little endearing at the same time.

"Just call me Rorschach." He said gruffly.

She flashed a toothy grin at him. "Pleasure to meet you. So.. where are we going?"

Rorschach shrugged. He didn't really have a destination. "You said to walk you to a bar..."

She groaned dramatically. "That would be so boring, though! A moody, mysterious stranger is far more interesting than a bar. I can't leave now. No way! You're stuck with me. Lets walk and talk a bit more.”

"Fine."

Rorschach let her lead, his own boredom convincing him to stick with this strange woman.

....

"Hey what's with that sign? It pretty neat, and the world IS burning... but why carry it around?" The girl asked after a few minutes of casual conversation that mostly consisted of her talking a lot and Rorschach giving small replies.

He shrugged. "Why deny the truth in the face of Armageddon?" He said rhetorically.

She chuckled, tilting her head at him. She broke into another grin. "Can I hold it?"

Rorschach looked deep in thought for a second, but before he'd thought about it for too long, she grabbed the sign anyway.

He huffed in annoyance and she just stuck her tongue out at him. But he didn't take it back. He instead watched as she twirled it around a few times and admired it.

"You are so weird. I like it!" She said matter-of-factly, handing it back.

Rorschach just rolled his eyes. He propped the sign in the opening of an alley, letting the girl take his hand and drag him along.

"How do you know someone's not gonna steal that thing? Or what if you don't remember where you left it?' She said

"I'll remember, trust me. Everyone knows it's mine."

He noted that she hadn't let go of his hand. He didn't think it meant much, and he didn't really mind, so he didn't pull away. She hummed absent-mindedly as she looked through random store windows.

A few minutes later, they came across an empty park, and the girl let go of his hand, making a beeline for the swings.

She sat, gesturing for him to follow. Under the soft glow of the park lights he could see her more clearly. Her face was flushed, her cheeks a bright pinkish-red from the cold.

“So what’s your story? Do you live here? In the city, I mean?”

Her question seemed innocent enough, but Rorschach knew the whole story seemed more sad than it actually was.

“Yeah. Somethin’ like that.”

The girl laughed again…. She was impossibly bubbly. But paired with her unassumingly pretty face, it suited her.

“And you?” Rorschach gave her an opportunity to talk more…listening was easier for him anyway.

“Oh! I’m just visiting for the winter. But…I kind of want to stay longer. There’s so much beneath the surface here… so much to see and do. So many interesting people.” She nudged him.

“Interesting isn’t the word I’d use. More like dangerous. Someone like you…this city will tear you apart if you’re in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

"....Do you really think the world is ending?" She asked after a long pause.

Rorschach shrugged. "Dunno. Probably. There's so much filth... Bad people doing fucked up stuff..."

"But there are still some good people.... You seem like a good enough guy. I mean, we've been hanging out alone for almost an hour now and you haven't tried anything suspicious. I knew my sixth sense was right."

Her eyes had the same glimmer as a kid telling a friend a secret.

"Sixth sense?" Rorschach asked, his interest piqued.

"Oh, You're suddenly curious for once?" She teased. "I have this sense about people. Like you, for instance. I can tell you're a loner. You think being alone is less complicated. You seem smart, and I think you're a good guy even though you're a bit rough around the edges."

He smiled a little at her observation. It felt strange, but good. He honestly couldn't remember the last time he'd relaxed like this.

Snow started to fall, a thick veil of white quickly covering the park.

(Y/N) tilted her head back to catch snowflakes on her tongue.

"Let's go get hot cocoa!" She exclaimed, pulling Rorschach from his swing.

"Ok..."

She gripped his hand like an excited kid, pulling him into the nearest 24 hour diner.

....

She giggled as she reached across the table, gently brushing snow from his hair.

"Why?" he muttered, cringing a little.

"Sorry." Her voice retreated with her hand. The red in her cheeks had lifted to a slight pink, but now her cheeks blazed again.

"I'm not really... good with people..." He said. His face showed no shame or remorse. This was just a fact.

"I get it. But.. why help me earlier? Why let me drag you around town all night?" She asked

He stared a her blankly for a long while. Just when she thought he wasn't going to say anything, he answered.

"You needed someone....Maybe I did too." He shrugged, mostly talking to himself.

The Waitress brought them their drinks, And they gladly accepted the warmth.

“I can’t believe you didn’t get hot cocoa! Black coffee is for Cops and School teachers running on empty.” The girl laughed.

“You like me. Why?” Rorschach said suddenly.

“Hmm… I dunno. Helping me lose that guy was the first thing…” She Began. “but you seem so confident in yourself. Like you aren’t bothered by anything. But you have these walls up to keep the world out. You seem like someone who needs help coming out of your shell. And besides, don't think you mind the company, or you’d have dropped me off at a bar an hour and a half ago.”

“I don’t have many friends. I’m not friendly or outgoing. I’m kind of a recluse most of the time. But that doesn't bother you. You’re like a tornado of post-teen energy. I can’t really look away at this point.” Rorschach admitted. And it was true. For some reason, she intrigued him.

“You’re adorable. So angsty. Like a ginger Bruce Wayne… just without all of the annoying ‘rich boy’ machismo.” The girl smirked into her mug of cocoa.

It was a strangely fitting assessment, little did she know.

“Adorable?” He looked at his companion as if she’s just spoken another language.

“Oh for sure! It’s funny though. You've got this... weirdly charming look to you.” Her analysis sounded lighthearted and informal, but something in her eyes told Rorschach that it was genuine.

He guessed if he were someone else he’d like her too. She was nice, in an energetic, ditzy sort of way. And he did find her pretty. Before he could reply, (Y/N) had her face pressed against the glass of the window beside her, admiring the snow.

He took the opportunity to change the subject.

"You like the Snow?" He noted.

"I love it. I'm from the south... We never get to see it." She said longingly.

"Maybe if you stay in the city you could see it more often." Rorschach muttered.

Her eyes were practically stars when she turned to smile at him.

"You think I should stay? But I thought you said it was dangerous."

"That was when you didn't know anyone here. You know someone now."

He sipped his coffee, his eyes flicking away from hers for a few long seconds.

“It’s getting kind of late. Whaddaya say, handsome… walk me home?” She said hopefully.

“…Ok.”

They payed for their drinks, and ventured back out onto the icy sidewalk.

(Y/N) grabbed Rorschach’s hand again as they walked. And, once again, he didn’t protest.

She yawned, leaning against him a bit.

“I’ve had the best time. I’m glad I saw you earlier.” She grinned.

“Letting you drag me around town isn’t the worst night I’ve had…” he replied.

A few minutes later, they arrived at an apartment building.

“Well…this is me. Thanks for the nice night.”

She fished a sharpie out of her backpack, grabbing his hand and scribbling her number on it.

“If you ever find yourself bored and want some company, let me know.” She said.

“I will.” He said, his hand suddenly feeling cold when she let go.

After a few seconds of tense silence, she finally balled her fists into the fabric of his coat, bringing him down for a kiss.

It was quick, and sweet… the same as the night they’d just had.

“Take it easy, Rorschach. And call me.”

With that, she gave a small wave as she disappeared inside.

“What the fuck…”

Rorschach repeated the question to himself dozens of times on the way back to Nite Owl’s apartment.

#sorry if it’s super bad #but I FINALLY finished a oneshot #for ONCE.#so I’m proud #rorschach #watchmen

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statticscribbles · 4 years

Text

I and Love and You

Summary: Sweet Pea/Reader Request: Sweet Pea finds his first love in you, but due to your parents you know you can’t be with someone from the Southside

“Hey Y/N you doing okay?” You nod to Betty not taking your eyes off of the book you’re reading. “Y/N.” You look up nodding once more. “Yes, I’m fine.” You repeat what you’ve said the last five times she asked. “You don’t sound fine.” “I am. Just a cold.” “Toni said she heard you crying the the locker room and-“You shut your book standing and walking past her. “Y/N!” You can hear Sweet Pea shout out as you walk by and you bite down the urge to run. You slide into the girls locker room, hands white knuckled on your book. You take a couple of shaky breaths before turning to see Cheryl standing watching you.

“You know this is hurting everyone right? We can all see it. Why’d you lie about everything?” You step back as Cheryl walks forward. “I didn’t lie I-“ “You lied, everyone knows you’d never cheat on him, that you two were going to be that sickening couple that are high school sweethearts; that get married and live happily ever after; so what’s going on.” She narrows her eyes and you avert yours. “He’s from the Southside.” You mumble and Cheryl arches an eyebrow. “You actually give a shit about that dumb imaginary line?” You shake your head. “No; my parents do.” You don’t say anything else. Cheryl pulls you into a hug. “You should tell everyone that. You know Sweet Pea actually came to me, to ask me to talk to you. He’s a mess; he thinks you hate him.” “I don’t.”

“Everyone knows that, but he’s starting to believe it.” “Cheryl, I can’t; if my parents see me talking to him they’ll flip.” “It won’t be him, we’ll be there, if a Southsider happens to show up at La Bonne Nuit well what can you do.” She smiles and you return it unease already building in your stomach.

————————————————————————————— You’re relieved your parents buy the lie, Veronica wanted to have a Vixen’s get together and Betty needed you to cover it for the Blue and Gold. You let them drop you off, the Vixen’s gathered in pop’s before going down; you can tell Veronica and Cheryl are going overboard to appear like they’re counting and checking everyone as your parents drive off. “Okay we clear?” Veronica nods as Reggie opens the door. You relax as the door closes and you can hear everyone else’s voices talking. You follow Reggie down nervously waiting for everyone to turn to you.You can see Cheryl and Toni turn first, but Sweet Pea is the first to move towards you. “Hey Y/N.” ‘Hey Sweet Pea.” “Cheryl told me that-“ “I’m sorry about everything. I still think it’s best for us, to not be an us.” Sweet Pea swallows and steps back. “Don’t; I’m; I’m sorry.” Sweet Pea nods stepping forward as you do, meeting half way to hug you. “I love you.” “I know, I love you still.” You respond and Sweet Pea sighs relaxing. “Can we just, try again. Please.” “Of course.” You smile nervous as your phone lights up. You scowl at your mother’s text.

“I’m going home. I’ll see you at school. Bye.” You leave before they respond returning home to your parents questioning. “No I just went out with Cheryl and the rest of the vixen’s, and then those Southsider’s showed up so I came home, like you told me to.” You want to choke on the pride your mother has in her eyes. You hope they don’t catch onto the lie, but you know they will. You’re not surprised when your mother comes in two hours later sitting on the edge of your bed, it’s where she sits when she’s angry.

“Sweetheart, do you want to tell me why there’s a picture of the vixen party up online, with you, wearing a Serpent jacket.” You swallow shrugging. “Someone left it, we thought it would be funny to try it on.” “Is that what you’re going with?” She glares and you nod. “It’s the truth.” She glares as she leaves but you don’t hear her talking to your aunt on the phone like when she found out you and Sweet Pea were dating. You’d heard the midnight conversations, the arrangements for you to move out to your aunt’s all the way across the country. ————————————————————————————–

You make it to school exhausted from worrying most of the night, you meet Cheryl and Sweet Pea at the front. “We took down the photo and-“ “Damage is done. Apparently I’m going to be grounded for a year when I get back home after today.” You sigh rubbing your eyes and yawning. Cheryl offers an apologetic smile and you shrug curling into Sweet Pea’s side. “I meant what I said about trying again.” You mumble into his shoulder and he smiles kissing your forehead. “Don’t worry, I’ll wait for you the entire year if you need. I’m sure your parents won’t keep you on lockdown for a full year over a jacket.” “You don’t know them.” You laugh hollowly and kiss Sweet Pea before you rush off to class.

You sit with everyone at lunch slowly explaining what you think will be the terms of your grounding. You can tell they’re already scheming ways to get around it. “Guys, I love all of you, but I don’t think my parents will let me go anywhere without a chaperone. Seriously.” You laugh when they joke about becoming bodyguards for you.

————————————————————————————-

“Hey mom I’m home I have a lot of homework to do so-“ You trail off watching your aunt sipping tea on the couch. “Hey, I thought I was grounded, are you here for a visit?” You question and your aunt smiles. “Yes, just a visit. You mother needed consoling after that stunt you pulled, wearing a Serpent jacket, the nerve of you putting that filth on.” She huffs and you sit on the edge of the arm chair.

“Well she’s all packed and-Oh! Y/N there you are sweetheart, come on.” “Where are we going?” “To visit some of your aunt’s friends, didn’t she tell you?” You shake your head and you father smiles nudging you towards the door. “Come on, we don’t want to be late, they’re making dinner now.” You nod following your father as he stows your bags in the trunk. “What’s that for?” “Your room.” He states as he buckles his seat belt.

“My room where? Mom said we weren’t moving, just that I was grounded and-“ You panic as the doors lock. “Dad?” “Hush dear, it’s the only place we can make sure you’re away from those horrible Serpents.” You sit silent, shaking as they pull up to a stone building. You don’t move even when they open the doors for you. “Y/N don’t be stubborn, come on, these people are very nice.” “Hello dear, my name is Sister Woodhouse; I’ll be looking after you while you stay here.” You frown as you read the carved stone above the doorway. ———————————————————————————-

“Why would they send her to the sisters; I mean we can go visit whenever..” Betty and Jughead share look and turn to Sweet Pea. “You guys were safe, when you know you-“ “Yes we were.” Sweet Pea rolls his eyes. “Oh my god, what if Y/N’s gay” Fangs states. “Fangs, why would she be dating me if she was into girls.” “It’s always good to have options.” Toni laughs smiling. “Either way, we should still be able to use that tunnel right?” ‘Well yeah, but we don’t know where she is; I don’t know if we can search the entire place before they catch us.” “Half of us go in the front? The other through the tunnel?” Jughead nods breaking the group into halves and giving everyone positions. ———————————————————————————

You like the art class they have you sit in, you’re not entirely sure why everyone draws the same thing, the odd shaped skull faced creature.The sister’s don’t mind your art, you wonder if they send the drawings of snakes home to your parents.you can hear shouting, and running, you wonder which one of the others is trying to escape, you shrink against your seat, hiding behind your easel, they’ll punish you if you try to leave again.

“Y/N?” Don’t respond, it’s a recording like last time you assure yourself. The sisters are trying to see if you’ll escape again. You peek over the edge of your easel watching the Serpent logo flashing as the figure leaves. “Wait.” You stumble forward. You’re trying your best to follow the jacket, you manage to grab onto the leather tugging back feeling their arms around you; you can hear the sisters shouting, and can feel the arms around you move. “Don’t leave.” You can’t help but ask. “We have to, come on, we have like five minutes before he rest of them show up; it’s not that far to the tunnel to get you out.”

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#sweet pea x reader #sweet pea x you #sweet pea x y/n #sweet pea imagine #sweet pea reader insert #jordan connor #jordan connor imagine #jordon connor reader insert #stattic

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 4 years

Text

Daddy Cant Save You Now, Princess

Summary- 3.8k Robert (Mr.Softee x Y/N) Robert Pronge is a Hitman for hire, and his target, well it's you. He's supposed to kill you, dispose of the body, earn the payout. But he's got a better idea for you. Written for @jtargaryen18 30 Days of Chris challenge.

Warnings- Triggers, abuse/torture, Non Con, Oral, Male Receiving, Erratic behaviours, launguage, Listen this whole thing is just dark and evil. He wasn't a good person, you will find nothing good in this fic.

The man stood over your body, his foot giving your unconscious body a rather hard nudge against the ribs and nothing. He had knocked you out cold. Robert had no trouble weaseling his way into your apartment. His guise as a repairman worked, you so trusting and innocent opened the door to him. The sweetest smile on your face when he told you that your father sent him to repair the sink. You gave him a funny look as if you knew him before opening the door further to let him in. Silly little cunt.

“Of course, I was just telling Daddy that it kept clogging up.” You would flash that soft pink smile of yours that made his cock twitch, and well fuck if it hadn't been a while. His son's whore of a mother had cut him off a while ago. And he didn't feel like shelling out the cash for a hooker. Especially one he had to 'restrain' himself with. Robert made the decision a couple days ago you wouldn't die. Bodies are always just disappearing all the time, would be easy enough to say you were cut up, disposed of all over the fucking place. Well... Wouldn't Daddy shell out a fortune for his little girl, the course would he give you back? Fuck no. You were his. Till your body was no longer satisfying. Or used up.

“Yes, Daddy sent me.” Robert took on a menacing look, cold, killer, his hands itching to wrap around your sweet bird-like neck to feel how brittle you were. Normally it wasn't his style, but you sweetheart made him feel feral. You made it so easy, a rag from his pocket over your face when he locked you in his hold. Once you collapsed in your arms, he took a dragging breath of your hair, and shuddered while rubbing himself against your ass. You were gonna be fun.

And now you were unconscious, for the time being. Robert got you dragged out, how fucking easy was that? Not really. Thankfully you had a fire escape out the back of your apartment, and with some maneuvering, he backed his Mr.Softee Ice Cream truck up to it. It was good and dark when he brought you down the escape, stuffing you in the back like someone might toss in a rug they were pissed off at. Your body thunked against the metal of the floor of the van, and he paid no mind to it. Minor, oh so minor for what he wanted to inflict on you.

When you were waking up on a cement floor, you groaned. A weird taste in your mouth had you smacking your lips, and your tailbone was sore like you had fallen. “What is going on?” you question yourself, rubbing the back of your head as you twist to a sit. And you come face to face with the man who you let in your apartment, his face was literally inches away, you could have rubbed noses with him. Huge wire rim glasses frame his face, and his heavy hair hung around his face framing it. His breath hot and sour, you yelp and try to pull away, but he grabs a fistful of hair, twisting it viciously to keep you from being able to move. “Well look at the Princess, finally awake. Enjoy your beauty sleep Doll? Cause you look like fucking shit.” He laughed darkly, pulling himself to a stand, and dragging you up to, not very graciously, you swore you lost half your hair, making you cry.

“Who are you? What do you want? Daddy will-"

Robert's other hand popped you in the face, mimicking in a high pitched sweet voice. “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy. Come save me Daddy.” he sneered in a way you could have sworn the man had fangs, so deviously looking at you as you struggled, which did nothing to loosen his hold. “Oh please. Daddy ain't seeing you ever again Princess. So you might as well give that up. You're my little fuck toy now. Should have learned not to let people into your apartment.” He yanked on your head again, sending you sprawling forward onto a dirty mattress in the corner of the room. Your face planted in it, muffling a cry and making you inhale against the unimaginable dirty fabric. It was brown spotted with what you feared to be blood, and you rolled quickly to see him shucking clothes, talking to himself.

“Break her in, yes sir. Ain't had my dick sucked in some time, but right now I want to see what she's got under that skirt of hers. Oh Mr.Softee, you've earned this.” And that's when it clicked, the ice cream truck across the street you visited the other day, standing in line till you got to the window, and out popped the driver's head, long hair resting just over his shoulder and huge sunglasses covering half his face.

“Whaddya want sweet thing?” He grinned, his teeth slightly off yellow, like that of a smoker. It was slightly off-putting, but he seemed nice none the less.

“Do you have any of those rocket pops?” You asked with some excitement, all this well it brought you back to Summers on the beach. Right down to the ice cream truck. The familiar logo on the side of the creemee with a face, arms, and legs. An oddball cartoon character of an ice cream cone.

“Sure we do sweetheart, give me just a second.” And he disappeared, you played with your coins, feeling like it was taking a bit longer then it should, a line forming behind you when he came back to the window, the all familiar red, white, and blue ice looking extra cold, extra tasty on this hot day, licking your lips with expectation as you held up your change to him.

“No no, a pretty thing like you, Nah. My freebie of the day.” He pulled down his sunglasses enough to wink at you, and a shiver ran up your spine as you gave a little wave while leaving. Was that the ice cream or the man that caused that.

Robert smirked as you walked away, crossing the street with a sweet little away to your hips under your flowing skirt, the way you would bring that popsicle up to your lips to suck on the ice. Cursing with an appreciative groan thinking of those pretty pink lips sucking his cock in just the same way, the next person in line spoke up. “Are you giving away free ice cream today Mister?”

Robert immediately snapped his eyes to the kid looking hopeful. “What? Fuck no, what the hell do I look like a charity? If you ain't got money, git outta here brat.”

You blanched hearing him, and look wildly around the room, for any way out. Scrambling across the mattress and pulling yourself to a stand, you bolt to a steel door, grabbing at the meat locker style handle and yanking on it. There's a menacing laugh behind you, followed by snorts as you look over your shoulder to see Robert in just a pair of boxers descending on you. You bolt to the right, looking for windows. Maybe you can crawl out a window, and you balk at the wall when you see, all of them, boarded up except for ones ten plus feet up, letting in the morning light. “Where you going, Princess? My little sweet treat? Awww, you think you get to just say no to me? You get to leave? Your such a stupid little cunt bitch.” His voice taunting. You whipped around to face him, on your toes as you shifted towards another door, one that looked regular. He grinned when he saw your plan.

“Do it, Princess, if you can get out that door, I will let you go.” He winked at her, this was the face of the devil, and you spit at him when he lunged, racing to the door, wrenching it open you fall into a closet-sized bathroom, screaming in fear and frustration when he now really does have you cornered, laughing shrilly as he yanks you out, and stuns you with a blow to the head. Not enough to make you pass out like before, but stunning you enough so when he yanked you into his chest, licking the side of your face like you were an ice cream cone, you didn't try to stop him.

“Oh fucking hell Princess, that was good. GOOD. I love it when you bitches do that. Think I'm fucking stupid or something.” This time your heart is sinking and bile is rising in your stomach making you gag. Robert rolls his eyes as you stumble along. Your mind process all he's saying, what is going on. He's had other victims in here before, other women locked in this room. Where he's god and your nothing. This time you try tearing at his hand. “Let me go! LET ME GO!” Your screaming now as loud as he could, and he whips you around to face him, again your face gets it, hard enough to whip your face back and forth and he pinched your cheek in a hold, snarling at you. “Fucking keep it up, and I'm gonna shove something so far down your throat, your fucking little voice will break, Ya Hear Me? Disrespecting little cunt, probably the pussy won't even be worth this effort.”

Shoving you down, he was just as quickly over the top of you, catching your hands and twisting you till you were on your stomach, screaming and calling him every name you could think of in the book. It wasn't many, you were proper good girl cause your daddy expected it, and Robert, will he found that fucking stupidly cute. His cute little dumb Princess. “Please! Daddy will pay anything you ask for, just give me back to him!”

Robert leaned over you, your hands pinned at your back, and his knee shoved hard between your thighs to rub against your core. It hurt how hard he was pressing against you, crashing down on your back so dragging in the air was damn near impossible, pushing your face back into the mattress, he gave a fucking little giggle of delight, you shuddering when his hair dragged across your face you twisted to the side so you could breathe. “Daddy is gonna pay my employer. Everything he asks for, cause he's already got the news.” He ripped your panties off and hiked that skirt up over your ass. Robert pinched it with his free hand, making you arch to get away, but he yanked your hips back up for his access. “His little princess pride and joy is Dead. Killed and disposed of, never to be seen again. Gotta protect your sisters, right? Oh, he's coming up with the money right now to keep your other little snot-nosed brat siblings safe. Your fucking dad has more kids then fucking brain cells.”

Tears fell, and fell and fell as he fucked you right there on that dirty mattress, taunting you the whole time, whipping you around, covering you in bruises and bite marks. They fell when he rolled away, satisfied he 'broke in his new toy' as he called you, and they fell as he got his coat and left you all alone with nothing more than a sore body, dirty mattress, and a single chair table set. This was now your life, your entire existence.

The time he left you alone, you searched the entire room high and low. Trying to pry the boards off the windows that were close to the ground, but when you chipped away at one, heavy bars were blocking anyway out, and you looked, nothing but a desolate lot facing some train tracks. Which you studied for hours. Not a soul passed through, not a train whizzed by. You pulled back and looked around the room again, to find nothing but the giant steel door. Your only way to escape. You stomp over to it, and wrench on the handle, yank and tear at it till your nails are bloodied stubs of what they used to be. Your feet try kicking at it in frustration, crying out when your toes smash against it, and you fall in front of it, sobbing.

A couple of days later he returns, a paper bag in his hand. He whistles as he comes in, shoving the door to lock behind him and looks at you sitting on the corner of the mattress, staring off at nothing, then snapping back at him. “You came back... I didn't think you would.” He snorted as if you were being ridiculous and rolled his eyes with an exaggeration. “Fucking drama queen much Princess? Course I'm coming back. Fucking stupid as you look.” He set the bag down, and you didn't dare move, dare approach him. He yanks out some bags of gas station chips, beef jerky, snack cakes, and a few bottles of water, dumping them on the table. As well as a bottle of soap. “I expect you to stay clean" He tossed the bottle at you that bounced on the mattress. “I ain't fucking no dirty whore. Did that enough with my son's mother.”

He chortles as if amused and you kick the bottle away from you. “Fuck you.” That made him snap ramrod straight, peering over his glasses at you. “What. Did. You. Just. Say?”

“You heard me perfectly clear, Fuck off you fucking dick.”

“Oh your gonna wish you ain't never said that.” and before you could even try to get away, he straddled you onto the mattress, shoving your hands under his knees, he rolled forward to put all his weight into your wrists, making you cry out and screaming even louder. “I told you before, I like my bitches loud. Keep screaming, gives me a fucking hard on.” And he was right, staring you right in your face was a tent in his uniformed pants. wrenching your mouth to open with the use of pressure against your jaw, and using his teeth, he pried the bottle top off.

“Think you can talk with a filthy mouth princess? Gotta clean out all that shit you be spewing with soap.” And he tipped that bottle, squeezing the blue soap to fall into your mouth, slipping to the back of your throat, and tossing the bottle aside, he used the heel of his hand to snap your jaw shut and covered your mouth and nose. “SWALLOW IT!” You start gagging underneath him, tears brimming and falling, heaving as if you were going to puke. Last second he released you, and you rolled spitting up the blue bubbles soap, already starting to get activated.

Of course that wasn't the end of it, he taught you all sorts of things he enjoyed that night. Making you choke on his cock, making you gag and lungs burn like they couldn't breathe, waiting until you were starting to turn red and fought to pull off him to take that breath of air. “You ain't never sucked cock before? all bitches need to know how to handle dick in the mouth.” He shoved you back on him, and you were praying he would finish soon. Tearing you apart from the inside out, leaving you broken again.

After he's sitting on the edge of the mattress, yanking on his pants and grunting as he got up, twisting to look at his back “aww shit, Princess you did mark me fucking up. Just blame it on a whore when the wife asks. Not that she fucking cares.” You try to move, but it just hurts, all of you hurts. He leans down and pops his hand against your cheek and you open your mouth to protest, him grasping your chin to keep your mouth open for a lewd kiss. “Mmmhh, you taste all squeaky clean. Too bad we know your not. See you soon Princess, foods on the table. Better make it last, might be a few days.”

And with that he left, your second time with Robert was just as horrifying as the first. After several hours you nibbled on the cakes and sipped on the bottle of water, grimacing whenever you felt the soap taste in your mouth. You could feel yourself breaking just a bit more with each second passing. You tried to convince yourself that your Dad would save you, he just had to. But you knew deep down he would just take you as a lost cause. He still had your other siblings to worry about.

Your life became routine. He would come for a night or a day, fuck you in all brutal manners, some times afterward he would shove you away from him when he was done, usually along the lines of “Get off me you filthy cunt. Don't you ever clean yourself up? Not even worth the effort fucking you good and proper anymore.” Other times he would have you lay your head on his chest, and he would be... kind and gentle. Talk about his latest hit with his partner Richard. It would make you grimace in horror how he described the use of the poisons when they would freeze the bodies, packing the ice cream he would sell to innocent little kids and there stupid dumb ass parents. Bodies kept the cones more solid he claimed. How you envied those people. They got to have a painless existence with him. Nothing more then shells gone from this world.

You hated them more then you should, and you always felt guilty for it.

The only other constant thing was the gas station food. You would give anything for a piece of fruit, a sandwich, anything that was real. Not beef jerky, and chips. He even limited the bottles of water when he caught you drinking the dirty tap out of desperation. That day when he was shoving shit on the table, he seemed to be fine, even pulling out a hair clipping kit and yanking the chair out to sit down. “Get over here, you any good with cutting hair? I need it shaved off, fucking all gone.” He plopped in the chair. “Come on Y/N, ain't got all fucking day.” Maybe, just maybe if you are good, you can ask him for a favor. You put on your sweetest smile, the one you knew he liked and approached him. Looking down in his lap, was a cocked pistol. He caught you looking at him. “You know, in case you decide to do some stupid shit.”

You sheer off his matted hair, trim it up best you could with what he gave you, and underneath it all, there was not a bad looking man. You were taken aback at feeling that way looking at him, but you were. His hand came up to brush through the bristles, and yanked you in his lap, grinding you against his erect cock. “Good Girl Princess, look at you finally learning to not be a little brat and be good for once.”

“Really Robert?” You bite your lip, and you see his eyes flashing at you, his hand hiking up your skirt and rubbing at your bare pussy, working to make you slick for him. It was distracting, but you wouldn't forget, couldn't forget, and he claimed you were a good girl after all. “would I fucking say it if I didn't mean it? Why do you say this stupid shit?”

He kept fingering you, so far gentlest he's ever treated you and you contemplated waiting, but he was smart and sensed your hesitation. “You should probably just tell me, what the hell is it?” He twisted his wrist and hit that spot he once in a while would have you falling apart for him. “Oh...I... wondered if maybe, you could...” You panted and fisted your hands in his shirt. “would bring me an apple?”

“Your kidding, you want a God damn apple?” Robert's lips curled up, and you knew you made a mistake. He wrenched his fingers out of you and shoved you off his lap to the floor, wincing as you tried to get away from his boots. He managed to plant one, right on your ass to send you skittering across the floor. “I work my ass off to keep you taken cared of up here, your daddy has given up on you. And you aren’t even fucking grateful! I bring you food and company.” He ripping into the bags, and you're crawling across the floor, clutching at his leg. “Please! No, I'm sorry Robert! I appreciate it, all of it!”

“Too late, if I wasn't too tired I would do worst.” He spitting in everything, smooshing it all together and breaking it. “You can eat the soggy crumbs, remember who gives them to you when you eat my spit, Princess. All a cunt bitch like you deserves. Get on the mattress, face down ass up. All your fucking good for.”

At this point you don't have any fight left in you, you do as he tells you, and as he's pounding you from behind, hand fisted in your hair to keep your head tipped back so he could lean over easier and spat in your face, he's having you tell him 'Thank you' over and over, how bad you were, how worthless you were, how loving and kind he was. He jizzed all over your back when he was finished. “Think about what you are worth to me Princess, cause one of these days I might not come back.”

You just stare at him while laying on your side, watching him dress, nodding to him. “Yes Robert, I understand.”

“Do you? Do you fucking understand?” He leaned over and spit in your face one last time to drive his point home before he grabbed his jacket. “Cause I don't have time for you to be a cunty bitch all the damn time. Somedays I'm tired. Tired of the attitude Princess.” He strides towards the door. “See you in a couple of days. If I feel like it.”

A couple of days passed and you don't see him. You figure he must still be mad at you, and punishing you in another sick twisted way. More days pass and madness starts to set in. Another fear, was he serious this time? You pass your days prying off the wooden boards, praying someone will pass, but no one ever does. This is a warehouse, no one comes to look at warehouses, they are the eyesores of the city.

More days pass, your food is gone, your resulting in drinking as much water as possible to keep your hunger pains from making you feel sicker than you already do. Panic, cold and sharp has started to set in. His thread rattling in your brain. Think about what you're worth to me Princess, cause of these days I might not come back. Had you pushed him that far? You cried while banging on that door, listening, praying someone would hear you. And each day there was nothing but silence.

How much longer could you last?

#Iceman #Mr.Softee #Non con #violence #Trigger Warnings #Dark Character #Chris Evans #amber writes #sweater writes #30daysofchris2020

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closedafterdark · 4 years

Text

Part Timer

Dreamcatcher Minji x Male Reader

6644 words

categories: smut, oral, creampie, employee minji

Read on AFF

Note: Brief mention of Dreamcatcher members from nsfwtwicecatcher’s stories.

Life works in mysterious ways.

Walking into a convenience store can be quite the stimulating experience.

The familiar tune of the doorbell being rung upon entering. The relieving rush of air conditioning. Thousands of plastic packages covered in bright colors ranging from simple descriptions of the item with cutesy cartoon animal characters to promotional shots of the model approving of the product.

It can be hard to navigate the refrigerated section of triangle kimbap with various fillings or the hundreds of bottles of tea in assorted flavors.

From wanting to expand lunch options, picking out the best snack for a quick break from life, or finally finding that specific ramen flavor that brought back fond memories, convenience stores have something for everyone.

Convenience stores were especially popular with the younger demographic. The affordability of the products meant a high school student's allowance or a college student's frugality can both stretch their money significantly. Most stores took advantage of this, often doing promotional deals such as buy one, get one or multiples of a product for a discounted amount.

"That'll be 9,000 won please" the cashier says after scanning two red Marlboro boxes.

You were patiently waiting your turn, a cup of ramen and banana milk in your arms.

Once the person in front of you pays for their cigarettes after complaining why the tobacco tax was so high, you place the items down next to the cash register.

"That'll be 2,000 won please"

Fumbling around your pockets, you realize you were out of money. You were completely broke after paying this month's rent and your friends wanting to celebrate one of your oldest friends getting promoted in their corporate job. You had enough money to pay with cash but remembered you had an app that contained store credits.

As you hand the cashier your phone, you look up. She wore a blue, orange and green tri-colored vest that replicated the colors outside the store. Her nametag was neatly placed on the left side, the GS-25 logo clearly visible. Underneath the vest was a white crewneck sweater with Mickey Mouse imprinted across.

Her smile was very inviting, making you question how she was able to keep such a cheerful expression for long periods of time. Her makeup less face complimented her dark, chestnut hair that was playfully teased to give a slightly wavy look. You felt quite shabby seeing how beautiful she was even in such a simple outfit. You had thrown on a pair of joggers and wore the same Mickey Mouse shirt you wore to bed last night, the shirt creased from you tossing back and forth trying to fall asleep from the summer heat.

"Oh, you like Mickey too?" She says as she hands back your phone after scanning the QR code, getting your attention.

"Huh? Oh yeah, I have a lot of these kinda shirts at home"

"Really? So do I. Mickey's my favorite" she said, her warm smile washing away whatever embarrassed feelings you had previously.

"Kim Jiyoo" you said, reading the name tag on her vest.

"That's me" Jiyoo replies, her eyes shining brightly at the delight of her name being called. "My real name is actually Minji, but my family and friends have been calling me Jiyoo forever that I've gotten used to it"

"I see. Well thank you for the items, Miss Jiyoo Minji" you reply, smiling at her.

"Please, either Jiyoo or Minji is fine" she giggles. "I haven't seen your face before"

"Yeah, I just moved to the neighborhood yesterday" you explain. "Finally living on my own"

"Really? I'm so jealous. I still have to live at home with my parents and brother" Minji pouted, puffing her cheeks at you with a cute sad reaction.

"Hey, stay positive! I'm sure you'll be able to move out soon!"

"Really? You think so?"

"Ahem"

You and Minji turn around and see an extremely large line has formed behind you, almost reaching the entrance. This store was extremely popular, you're sure having a beautiful woman as the employee made it that way.

You apologize to the customers and bow.

"Thank you again, Minji" you say, quickly grabbing your things and beginning to leave.

"Wait, I didn't catch your name!" Minji yells, tilting her head to see where you were.

"I'll drop by again tomorrow!" You yell, briefly being seen again by the door before leaving. Minji wanted to talk more, but was pleased to know you would be returning the next day. She smiled brightly at the customers and quickly got them in and out of the store.

And drop by the next day you did. Everyday for the entire month in fact. Some nights were slower than others, which allowed you and Minji to really get to know each other. Most of the time you didn't really need to buy anything, but dropped by anyways because you looked forward to your daily conversations with her. Minji would complain to you about the rude customers she had to deal with or how her and a group of friends had aspirations to be famous one day.

"What are you guys calling yourselves again?" You asked, slurping up noodles Minji made for you both.

"Dreamcatcher! We want fans to dream of us" Minji replies with her mouth full of ramen.

"That's the stupidest name I've ever heard! I preferred the first one you gave. What was it called? Minx?" You laughed at her, probably not the smartest thing to do. Minji pouted and hit your shoulder before replying.

"Ugh gross! I guarantee you this is what'll happen if we were named Minx. We'll debut with a cute concept. Two years will go by with steady growth but still no traction. We disband and go our separate ways" Minji yells, pointing her chopsticks at you in anger.

"So, tell me about these friends of yours" you ask, taking a rather large chug of water.

"Hmm, what's there to say? I'm the oldest out of all 7 of us. We all have day jobs so it's hard to find time to meet. Here's a photo of some of them" Minji replies as she scrolls through her phone, handing you it as you see three women: one towering over the other two as they smile brightly, posing in business like clothing.

"The giant's name is Kim Yoohyun. We call her the silver puppy. Kim Bora's the busty one you see there. That bitch really needs to cover her tits. Anyways, the small bean on the right is Lee Gahyun, an intern. Yoo and Bora have been with the company for several years now. Gahyun was about to be fired due to slacking on the job, but she and Bora managed to entice their coworker into letting her stay"

"Enticed how? And wow, Yoohyun has an ass on her" you say, scrolling through Minji's phone and finding a photo of her friend posing for the camera.

"Give me that!" Minji says, yanking her phone from you.

"Let's just say the girls have an... interesting relationship with Bora's coworker"

"Noona!"

The two of you see a younger man approach your table. He looked like a carbon copy of Minji, just taller. And a guy.

"Taehyun, what are you doing here?"

"Mom asked me to ask you for some money. “Oh, hey hyung”

Minji takes some money out of her wallet, but retracts it when Taehyun reaches for it.

"What is this for?"

"She wants to buy pastries from the baker that just opened up"

"Are you sure? Ah, mom has her own money. Why does she keep asking me for some”

"Yes" Taehyun replies, snatching the money from her hand before running. Thanks noona!"

"Ah, that kid. I already know he's gonna spend it at the pc bang. Sorry about my dumb brother. Like I was saying, Bora and her coworker are pretty much senior members at the company. All the responsibility for zero increase in pay. When it came to intern evaluations to see who was going to be cut, her coworker convinced Bora that Gahyun would be their intern after some… interesting evaluations”

"So they slept with him?"

"Yoo was the first one, being his personal secretary and all. She said he dropped a pen one day during a business call and when she went to pick it up under his desk, she saw what he was hiding under his slacks so she sucked him off. Bora’s encounter with him happened when they worked late one night and got caught in a storm, so they ended up getting a hotel room for the night. Even though he's had turns with Gahyun and Bora, I really think him and puppy will end up together. She already spends half of the week at his place anyways and goes on and on about how great in bed he is"

"Well, I now know about your friends that I've never met before's sex life quite clearly. Anyway, even though it’s bad, I like that option about you guys disbanding and going your separate ways. It means you and I will get to date" you tease.

"Oh yeah? And what makes you so sure I'll date you?"

"Oh come on, Minji. It's so obvious you're into me. You look like an adorable puppy waiting for me at the exact same time everyday"

"Psh. As if! I look forward to when my shift ends. You just help time pass faster" Minji puffs her cheeks and pouts. It was one of your favorite reactions from her. You pinch her cheek and she blushes in embarrassment from your briefly intimate interaction.

"Don't worry, I like you too"

Minji looks up at you, her eyes beaming with excitement.

"You do?"

"Of course I do. I don't come here everyday just because of the snacks. Although, I am looking at a snack right now" you wink at her.

You lean forward. Minji's eyes widen like a deer in headlights. Unsure of what was going to happen, she closes her eyes and puckers her lips in anticipation. Smirking, you decided to tease her.

"You really should brush your hair sometime. You look less cute than usual" you softly say, as your face is mere centimeters from hers.

She opens her eyes and sees how close you two are. Her surprised expression soon changes to embarrassment.

"Why did you pucker your lips? Think I was going to kiss you?"

Smack.

You catch Minji off guard by giving her a delicate kiss on the lips. She touches it right away, unsure of what just happened.

"Why don't I work here? You did say your family wants a part timer to help out. Plus, we'll get to see each other more. Dating in the workplace can be cute. Like the silver puppy and her boss. Wait, you’re eating again? Where does it all go?”

“Food isn’t the only thing I eat”

Your newfound confessions blossomed into a tender relationship. The honeymoon phase was always wholesome. You two wanted to be around each other, often staying up late on the phone or sending cute gifs. Minji was a lovable girlfriend, pouting whenever you teased her.

There were cameras everywhere, so you two had to be discreet when it came to kissing. Minji showed you where the blind spots were, both of you using it to your advantage to sneak in quick pecks or longer smooches. As your relationship went on, both of you became more daring.

Your hand might as well have been super glued to Minji's butt from the amount of times you would smack it during your shifts. She in turn would reciprocate, slapping your butt or squeezing your crotch when she knew no customers were around. The first form of physical intimacy occurred when Minji called you into the employee area one day to help her get a box from a high shelf.

"Thank you for the help, baby. I didn't realize how high the extra cups were placed" Minji turns around and smiles at you.

You don't reply, instead choosing to pull her into your embrace. She looks up at you, anticipating what your next move would be.

"You make me happy, Kim Minji" you tell her running your hand through her long brown locks before pecking her lips. Minji takes initiative and puts her hand behind your head, pulling you in for another kiss. She starts off slow, nibbling at your lower lip. This elicits surprise from you. You've given each other pecks or simple kisses, but never fully made out. You had both just started dating and you didn't want to do anything to make Minji feel like you were going to take advantage of her.

Minji continues to take charge, inserting her tongue into your mouth. Your eyes eventually close, giving into the temptation. You both were supposed to be working, but here you both were, sucking on each other's faces in the employee room. Minji finally releases her mouth from yours when she began to feel dizzy from the lack of oxygen. You were no better, beads of perspiration forming on your forehead as your chest heaves from oxygen finally flowing into your body.

Minji smiles at you, a seemingly innocent one. But her cheerful expression soon shows a certain twinkle in her eyes. You knew that expression all too well. It was the same one she made whenever she talked about her group member's escapades. Minji already wanted you both to take the next step and be intimate, but you kept declining. The truth was, Minji was your first ever girlfriend. You didn't want to disappoint her. Although she has squeezed your crotch several times, you allowed it since she respected your wishes and never overstepped the boundaries you set. Also, you would end up going home and releasing that sexual frustration with your hand anyways. But this time, you knew what was gonna happen.

"I know we agreed to not having sex yet, but there are ... other ways to be pleasured" Minji said, her words dripping with pure seduction as she got down on her knees.

"And it all starts by doing this"

"B-baby, we're at work. We c-can't do this"

"I need you" Minji murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear. "I want you" she had already unzipped your vest and removed your shirt. She gives your crotch a firm squeeze before reaching for the button on your jeans. As she unzips your pants, Minji shows you her beautiful eye smile. It melts your heart, you wonder how someone so sweet can be committing such sin.

Minji peppers your stomach with kisses, each leaving a thin string of saliva. Your boxers did a poor job at hiding what was underneath. Normally, your erections would go away after quickly. But today, you seemed to be consistently hard. It definitely didn't help that Minji would grope you every chance she could. And so, with a new toy to be played with seemingly in front of her, she grabs onto the elastic edge before swiftly pulling it down. Your agonizingly hard cock hits Minji's nostrils. She giggles, licking her lips at what is now presented in front of her.

"I'll make this quick babe. But not too quick. Don't want you bursting right away" she says, wrapping her delicate hand around your shaft. She could feel you pulsing in her grip, one that was loose enough that it left you wanting more. She begins with careful, sliding strokes, each one sending spikes of unrestrained pleasure throughout your body, increasing her tempo slightly at the end of each stroke, all while never breaking eye contact with you. The lewdness of it all, your girlfriend asserting herself as the dominant one in your relationship. She mixes things up by swirling her hand around your tip a few times, forming her fingers into a loose representation of a claw and captures your head, raking it a few times. You moan, continuing to run your fingers through her hair, hoping she would take the hint. Even though she coerced you into this situation, there was no turning back now. It has to happen.

“You’re so hard already” she moans, lubricating her lips once more with anticipation.

She doesn’t even give you time to breathe as she slowly opens her mouth, sinking her head as she draws closer and closer to you. She releases her grip on you, choosing to caress both of your hips for support until her lips finally connect with your head. The warm and soft flesh connecting with yours instantly makes you feel lost in their tight hold. Minji gets to work right away, her lips forming an air tight seal around you as they glide back and forth. Each suck is punctuated by the smack of skin on skin as she begins to take you entirely in her mouth. Your fingers that were previously running through her hair now grip the back of her head, pressing it each time. Minji goes deeper, putting her full effort into pleasuring you, her head bobbing back and forth rapidly. Occasional muffled gags are released as your shaft reaches the back of her throat. The little signs she showed of having a gag complex are soon proven to be temporary as once she has warmed up enough, Minji begins to be able to keep you inside her mouth for longer stretches. As her pace quickens, she teases you by showing a few tricks such as licking up and down your shaft, starting from the base until she reaches the tip, and taking both of your balls in her mouth at once.

“You’re close”

These were the first words either of you have said since Mini began, communicating like cavemen through grunts and body language. This was the first intimate experience for you both but it feels like Minji knows your own body better than you do. You wonder if she’s had practice before or if her group members told her about the signs that a man is about to orgasm. Compared to when you first started, your knees were getting weak from the pleasure. Your muscles were painfully tight from not wanting to burst right away. Minji releases your sack from her mouth, a popping sound that sounds like a symphony for your ears as she teased you by sucking each ball individually several times. She returns to using her hand, stroking you fast and hard. Minji lines up your seemingly ready to burst shaft with her tongue, using it as a runway for your fast approaching release. She looks up at you, her eyes practically pleading, begging for you to ejaculate in her mouth.

“Please, babe?” She pleads. “Please give me your come?”

Those were your activation words. It sends you over the edge and your release comes hard, weakening your knees even more that you thought you were gonna collapse. You grip onto Minji’s head for support as she takes you inside her mouth one final time. The thick white fluid escapes from you, gushing out at a high burst of speed. You felt the initial few hit the back of her throat. Once the initial rush of dopamine subsides, you loosen your hold on her, letting her know your orgasm is finished. Minji laps up the remaining few squirts, stroking you a few times to make sure that you’re completely empty. With one final kiss on your tip, she flashes her signature eye smile at you before standing up.

“Thanks for the afternoon snack, babe. Hope I didn’t make you see black or white”

You were sweating profusely, none of your previous orgasms had been that intense. Minji giggles, kissing you one final time before staring at the mirror and fixing her appearance to at least be somewhat presentable.

“I love you honey. Now let’s finish this shift shall we? I take it you’re ready for us to finally have sex. Make sure you’re ready for me tonight. I’ll make sure you scream” Minji blows you one last kiss before opening the door and greeting a customer who was ready to purchase food.

You were still feeling the aftereffects from Minji’s blowjob throughout your shift. If you didn’t know any better, it seemed like she didn’t even do it from how she was acting normally around customers. You were distracted, getting jumpy from customers asking you to scan their items or yelling at you for handing them the wrong carton of cigarettes. Once Minji locks up the store, she puts her keys away before interlocking her fingers with yours. The walk home was peaceful, no dogs barking and very few cars passing by. Minji was in a very cheerful mood, singing songs about flowers and summer love.

The two of you enter your apartment and Minji heads over to your room. She’s stayed over several times, and by doing so unofficially lives with you as many of her belongings and intimates are sprawled throughout your home. As you place the dinner order, Minji comes out, wearing a simple outfit that consists of pajama shorts that end ever so slightly below her bottom and a white crop top with Slytherin embroidered on it. An appropriate shirt to be wearing considering what she did to you at the store earlier. She removed her contacts and is now wearing giant circle lens glasses. After dinner, the two of you are sitting on the couch watching a rerun of some movie you forgot the name of. Minji was sitting on your lap, your right arm embracing her legs.

“Babe, we’re supposed to be watching the movie. Why is your dick poking my ass?”

You respond by sliding your hand down Minji’s crotch, not surprised at the lack of undergarments. You take two fingers and thrust them inside her core.

“Do you know how horny you made me today? It was all I could think about at work” you snarl, increasing the pace of your thrusts inside her.

“A-ah!” Minji’s juices lubricated your fingers, making the squelching sounds loud as you continued to finger her. “Faster, keep going”

You pull out your fingers just as Minji was about to climax, ruining her orgasm.

“Babe! What the fuck, I was about to come!”

“I just can’t do it. Babe, the reason why I’ve been prolonging sex was not to torture you” you sighed deeply. “It was cause I was embarrassed for you to find out I’m still a virgin”

“Is that what all this is about? Babe. You’re my boyfriend, I love you. I don’t care if you’re a virgin. It would be more meaningful because it’s you. I’m proud of you, that takes a lot of courage to say. But if we’re being honest… I am too”

“What?” You were so surprised, Minji seemed like an expert.

“I’ve pretty much done everything except penetration. Most guys just wanted to get in my pants without us getting to know one another. I compromised by telling them I’d give them head whenever they wanted. But with you, I’m okay with giving my first time to. I mean it”

Minji gives you another powerful kiss, reaffirming her love for you. You inserted your tongue this time, wanting to thank her for this morning.

“Looks like you kept your promise about being ready to go right now after my present for you this afternoon” your girlfriend says, speaking in a more husky tone. Minji began grinding on your lap. Moving her butt up and down, causing you to reach inside her shirt and grab her breasts, hungrily massaging them. It thrilled you knowing she was not wearing a bra, her nipples hard enough that they could pierce steel.

Minji guides you to the bedroom, turning around so that you’re facing each other. She begins her assault and kisses you, the two of you begin running your hands through each other’s body. Your clothes are instantly removed, being deemed unnecessary as both of your bodies increase in temperature: you almost tear off Minji’s shorts revealing her smooth, milky legs. She returns the favor by ripping the buttons off your shirt, her hands running through your chest and stomach with wanton vigor. She pulls your pajama pants down to your ankles as the two of you return to the fierce dance your mouths were participating in.

"Ah, babe. There's a bag near the nightstand. I got a little present for you"

You part yourself from Minji just enough to reach the pink colored bag on your nightstand. You take a peek inside and are greeted with a can of whipped cream. Under different circumstances, you would've wondered why there wasn't any ice cream. You hand them to Minji, smiling.

"Just thought you wanted a small snack before the main course" she said, shaking the can of whipped cream. She playfully applies two swirls on her breasts. They weren't the biggest breasts, but you loved them no matter what. But especially when they contained a sweet treat on them.

You instantly capture one, Minji's back arching in pleasure as the artificially sweetened substance fills your taste buds. It soon melts away revealing the real treat: chocolate syrup covered nipples. You make sure to not leave the other breast, devouring both mounds leaving only the syrup behind. Minji's moans echo throughout the bedroom, her skin's temperature being raised from the feeling of the cold whipped cream melting from your touch. You take the time to appreciate her naked body, giving her breasts as many kisses as you could.

You take the canister of whipped cream and without instruction, apply a generous amount on her clit.

"I've never done this before but it only seems right to repay you" you say, your voice trembling.

Warm colorless liquid was already beginning to slowly leak out of Minji. It seems like she was already aroused from having stuff eaten off her body. You dive in, lapping up the liquid from her center before gradually moving up, reaching the bright white prize. Minji is unable to control herself, her body squirming as she grips the back of your head and pushes you deeper. You move your hands up until they find her breasts, gently massaging them before pinching her nipples softly. The feeling you were giving her of eating her out along with playing her nipples was earth shattering. Obviously you were inexperienced, but with advice from Minji to form letters of the alphabet with your mouth, her initial giggles were soon replaced with moans, wanting you to not stop. You wanted her to orgasm, before diving into the main course.

The ever so slight musk scent was intoxicating. Minji chose to keep herself cleanly waxed, not a trace of hair in sight. You wanted to build her up, tease her for her agonizing blowjob earlier. But you show restraint, not giving in to your desires.

"Oh, fuck. Keep eating my pussy babe. Please"

You oblige, continuing your oral assault on her womanhood. You place your hands on her hips, causing them to involuntarily buck into your face. Your tongue darts in and out of her right hole. She wraps her thighs around your neck, forcing you to go deeper. It doesn't take very long until the muscles of her walls tighten, signaling her climax. Just as Minji is about to reach euphoria, you pull away for the second time tonight. Minji is rightfully pissed, her second orgasm of the night is ruined just as it was about to arrive.

"Why the fuck did you stop?" She angrily demands.

You choose to hold your throbbing cock in your hand. Minji sees this, her anger subsiding as she knows her erotic moans to your actions brought you back to life. Minji almost lost consciousness from the pleasure, trying to maintain focus as you both about to lose your virginities.

"B-be gentle, okay?" She whimpers.

You nod, giving her a reassuring kiss. You hold her left leg up, giving you a much easier access to the treasure that awaited you.

You make sure to prepare her for it, rubbing your tip against her lips several times. It was now or never. You guide your cock into her. She grimaces in pain as you finally enter her, her walls are extremely tight as inch by inch sinks inside. You're about three fourths of the way in as you give Minji another kiss to calm her down and hopefully relieve some of the initial pain. She wraps both of her arms around her neck, nodding at you to continue. At last, you fully enter Minji. Her walls are painfully tight, you weren't sure how you were able to fit.

Once you give her adequate time to get used to your cock, you start fucking. The first thrust causes her to whimper. She whines during the second one, but by the third thrust Minji's feelings of pain are replaced with pleasure. She loses all sense of self control, becoming a gasping, moaning mess as your hard cock increases in tempo and moves in and out of her. Both your breaths are heavy, you lock eyes with one another. You were both lost in the heat of passion. Her pussy is welcoming, extremely soft and complying to your rapid movements.

Before long, Minji has become fully accustomed to your dick, clawing at your back. Whispering in your ear to fuck her like you mean it. She's begging you for more, finding small bursts of energy to kiss you with what little oxygen is flowing through her body. Your bodies are extremely hot and sweaty at this point. You gently knead her soft, delicate mounds once again.

You were constantly out of breath yourself, your exhales devolving into monotone grunts. Minji's pussy continues to constrict your cock as the bed frame creaks from the two of you’s actions. You take note of your girlfriend's face: doe looking eyes, cheeks that were cute enough to pinch, luscious pink lips and the cutest nose you wanted to boop.

"Babe, why don't we try a different position? Yoo's always telling me about how good it feels to be fucked from behind"

Minji turns around and shakes her cute bottom at you. You spank it, the sound echoing throughout your room. You give each cheek four firm slaps before positioning yourself inside her once again.

"Oh, fuck. You feel even bigger than before"

Minji unconsciously tightens her vaginal muscles and you are provided with an utterly wonderful feeling.

“Holy fuck” you grunt. “Do it again baby” you beg as you thrust into her again.

She listens to you, clenching her muscles even harder. Minji is rewarded with cries of pleasure.

Your hand returns to her bottom, palming each tenderly before giving a loud spank. Minji decides to take control and impales herself onto your shaft, your bodies grinding against each other.

“A-ah, oh my god” Minji groans as her eyes roll to the back of her head. It seems you have found Minji’s sensitive spot. Having located it, control returns to you as you penetrate her cave and continue hitting her weakness. Minji’s stomach began getting heavier, she knew what was fast approaching. You could tell what it was from her body language. Minji tries desperately to grip onto your thighs, but it was no avail. You abuse her sensitive area as hard as you can, feeling her freshly manicured nails scratch your thighs, her body trembling in pleasure as the orgasm finally hits.

“Babe!” Your name escapes her lips in a hybrid scream/whisper repeatedly. You continue thrusting into her, albeit at a much slower pace due to how sensitive she was.

“You came so much, baby” you say, leaning forward to kiss her back.

“B-babe, stop. I wanna ride you now” she says, turning her head slightly. From her tone, it wasn’t a demand; but rather a request. Who were you to deny your girlfriend the pleasure she is seeking.

“Oh my godddd” Minji mutters as she impales herself onto your shaft. She doesn’t bother giving herself time to adjust to your size. Her mind is clouded at this point, only wanting pleasure and nothing else. You close your eyes, throwing your head back as her warm, velvety walls close tightly around you. Minji notices how much her pussy has an effect on you: your eyebrows furrow, you grit your teeth slightly, your Adam’s apple moving forward slightly as you gulp saliva.

Minji places her hands squarely on your chest, using them as support as she rocks her body back and forth. She could feel every ridge and pulsing vein rubbing against her walls. Now she realizes what Yoohyun meant when she said there is nothing that can replicate the feeling of having an actual dick inside you.

“Am I a slut babe?” Minji asks you. You were taken aback hearing her say such a thing about herself. “Because if it means I get fucked like this when we have sex, I want to be a slut. A whore who only wants your cock!”

Minji’s scream leaves her mouth suddenly as your dick hits her sensitive spot once more. It’s as if your mushroom headed looking tip has made it to her cervix. She grimaces slightly from the pain, but it makes her go crazy. Her toes curl in pleasure, digging themselves into the small crevice between your thighs and the bedsheets. With every downwards thrust into her body, Minji’s bottom is still tender from the spankings you gave her earlier.

Your hands roam her body and find their way up top. Minji’s legs were starting to give out, she lowers her body which allows you to capture her perky left nipple into your mouth. Using your tongue, you flick it. To add even more pleasure, you occasionally throw in a few soft bites. You cup each breast in your hand, squeezing them. To make things even worse for her already sensitive nipples, you blow cold air over them. Minji’s skin reacts, goosebumps littering her pale breasts.

Minji orgasms again, her walls painfully constricting you as the sudden flood of her nectar drenches your shaft. She captures your lips, wanting you to be happy of the pleasure you were giving her. Her orgasm was strong, but not strong enough to push you out of her. As such, trails of her liquid begin to leak out and coat your balls.

Her breathing is erratic, the back to back orgasms she endured caused her chest to heave. You find her nipples once more, tasting them. “Mmm, babe” her body was still sensitive. She tried pulling you away from her embrace, but you don’t care. You continue on with your oral assault, alternating between each breast.

Minji is kissing you senseless, and you take the chance of her being momentarily distracted to push yourself inside her once again. “Oooh” she moaned in pleasure. Her back has returned to the bed. You grab her thighs, pushing each apart momentarily before wrapping them around your waist. Minji embraces you as you thrust, her bottom syncing with yours.

“Babe… please keep fucking me. Don’t stop. Please, please, please. Don’t… stop… ahhhh!” Minji moans while trying to catch her breath. She was desperate. Gone was the aggressive woman who teased you about you both not having done the deed yet. All Minji wanted now was to come, and to make you come as well.

The room sounds like a symphony of moans, wet flesh slapping against one another and the consummation of a relationship being taken to the next level. Minji wraps her arms around your neck, her breasts pressed up against your own chest. Despite being the one to initiate things, there was a slight tint of red on her face as she could hear the lewd sounds your lower bodies were making.

You continue to thrust inside Minji. You were tired, but you had held back from being intimate with a woman for far too long. You savored Minji’s body, her lovely moans following each of your thrusts. Her breasts jiggled up and down from your swift movement.

“I’m gonna come” she manages to squeak out. You were so focused on fucking her you temporarily lost the ability to speak, grunting in order to acknowledge her. “I can’t hold it… aaahhhh…” Minji trembles, her body squirms as she clenches her walls around your shaft. Her flesh filled cave spasm along with his continuous thrusts.

“Aaahhh… yes, harder! Harder!”

You wanted to ask Minji where she wanted you to release. As you were about to do so, she lets out a loud scream. Your orgasm was fastly approaching.

“I’m coming baby!”

Minji’s thighs that were locked onto your waist pull you down. With one final powerful thrust, you reach the deepest part of her pussy. You emit a loud groan as your cock throbs erratically in her tight, velvety walls painting the inside with burning hot semen. You lose track of time in that moment, releasing sperm into her awaiting womb. It flows quickly and continuously, spreading all throughout her insides.

“Ohhhh my god” Minji’s body squirms in pleasure. Your orgasm triggers another one from her as well. With a quick kiss on her lips and one final thrust, you pull out, watching your bodies detach. Minji’s pussy is bright red, the poor victim of your sexual hunger. You watch as the slimy, white liquid oozes out of her. You hum in satisfaction, wiping off the sweat from your brows and caressing her face. As both of you struggle to catch your breaths, you lean down and give her a long, loving kiss.

Minji motions you to bring your cock near her mouth. Using the little strength she has left, she places a hand on your thigh as she is now face to face with your shaft. Your tip was bright red, glistening from the mixture of your love. She giggles as she sees her freshly released pussy juices and your sperm lathering your cock. She licks her lips with excitement before diving in. She wraps her left hand around your shaft, kissing the slit on your tip affectionately before putting it in her mouth. She makes eye contact with you, happy to see you clenching your teeth, trying to restrain yourself from grabbing her head and facefucking her.

Using the tips Yoohyun gave her, Minji swirls her tongue around your tip. She slowly draws a circle with her tongue around the slit. You groan in satisfaction, Minji couldn’t be happier at knowing she was pleasuring her boyfriend. Her pussy is tingling, slowly leaking out onto the bed sheets. Taking you in her mouth once more, she slips your cock in between her lips. Before going further into her mouth, her lips grip onto your shaft like a magnet. Once inside, Minji flattens her tongue below your tip. She sways it back and forth, left and right to tease you. She finds out she loves being in control just as much as she loves you taking control. Minji takes you all the way down her throat one last time before releasing her mouth’s hold on you with a loud pop. Her delicate hand cups your balls and with just enough grip, squeezes them. They were still heavy, even after how much you released. Minji knew they contained wonderful treats for her. The night was still young, and she was going to make sure she was going to empty you out. She takes her index finger and gently rakes your sack, you groan at the act being done to your sensitive area.

“Oh babe, I didn’t tell you. My parents ordered a bed for the breakroom at the store. We’re gonna have to break it in, you know? But before that… we have to change the sheets. And maybe continue this in the shower?”

#kpop smut #kpop fanfic #dreamcatcher smut #jiu smut #kim minji #male reader #reader insert

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