Begin Again, Ts

begin again, ts

If I ask nicely who will rb this telling me what is the last song u listened to 🥺

I Hate You, Too

Authors Note:

NSFW

I got an enemies to lovers request from a reader just over two weeks ago, and shocker, it’s took me this long to write it. The brief was pretty open, just an enemies to lovers trope that featured smut, so that’s my take it on this. This is the first smut I’ve written for Harry and my first smut in a long, long time.

As always, reblogs, likes, feedback is appreciated and encouraged !!

Lots of love, G xo

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Warnings: Smut, please only read if you are 18+

Contains: A friends birthday night out, confrontation with Harry, heavy petting in the back of the taxi, smut when you get back home

Word Count: 12.1k

MASTERLIST

***

“Nah, I don’t think I can make it,” Y/N said her hands wrapping round her steaming coffee cup.

“I haven’t even told you when it is, babe” Sarah replied with an unamused look on her face and a quirk in her eyebrow.

“Look I love you, but a night out, just isn’t really my thing just now,” Y/N took a mouthful of her latte and sat back in the warm leather chair of the coffee shop they were meeting up in.

“Well, that’s a lie, you love a night out more than anyone else I know,” Sarah chuckled at her friends lie. She was right as well, Y/N loved a night out. “Look, it’s my birthday, it’s just dinner and drinks. Plus, I don’t get to see you that often anymore either,” Sarah said a small pout playing at her lips, she knew if she played her cards right and pouted and put the puppy dog eyes on at the right moment, Y/N would be a goner and agree to come.

“You’re seeing me now,” Y/N said pointedly.

“Y/N…” Sarah sighed.

“No, I know, I’m sorry. Do you not have any other free night we could do something, just us?” Y/N asked.

“This is my only properly free night; I just want my best friend there.” Then she done it, Sarah deployed the puppy dog eyes and laid the pout on thick.

“Ugh, get that look wiped off your face, Sarah,” Y/N groaned, squeezing her eyes shut as to not see her best friend’s sad look. “Y’know I fall for it every time,” she said grumbling.

“Is it working now?” asked Sarah, a teasing lilt to her voice. “Come on, you know you’ll have a good time, loads of people are going, friends I know for a fact, you’ve not seen in ages, just come.”

“Fuck’s sake, Sarah, fine. I’ll be there,” she huffed out. “Just text me the details or something. Who is all coming anyway?” Y/N mused.

“Oh, I’ve asked a lot, we got someone to watch the baby, so Mitch will be there, Charlotte’s coming, we’ve not seen her for ages.” Sarah grinned excitedly, clearly looking forward to her celebration more now that Y/N had agreed to come.

“Is he coming?” Y/N probed; a tone of distaste evident in her voice.

“Who?” the brunette woman asked nonchalantly. She knew exactly who.

“The prize knobhead himself, will Mr Styles, be gracing us with his presence?” Y/N muttered.

“He’s not a knob-” Sarah started.

“Well, he seems like it, the way he treats and acts around me,” she shot back.

Sarah rolled her eyes at her Y/N’s obvious contempt at her other friend. “Anyway, I’m not sure, he’s invited, and I asked him but…”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure he’s far too busy and important,” Y/N said sarcastically picking her mug back up to take a sip, not before muttering a quick “dickhead” into the steaming liquid.

“That’s not fair Y/N/N, you know he works a lot, he can’t help it,” Sarah sighed.

“Look, all I’m saying, if he was that bothered about going, he’d be able to make sure he was. I’m sure he’s got some say in his schedule,” Y/N said, really struggling to keep her aversion to the man at bay now.

Sarah gulped down the remainder of her own coffee before starting, “what even is the situation between you two, anyway?”

“I don’t even know, I was nothing but nice when we first met, but he comes across as a prick and treats me like shit, I’m hardly the type of woman who’s going to roll over and take it am I?” Y/N said with a quirk in her brow

“Hmm,” Sarah considered, seemingly deep in thought as Y/N finished her drink. “He probably won’t even make it, so it’ll be fine, we’ll have fun, promise me you’ll be there?” Sarah said collecting her bag and sliding her arms through her jacket sleeves as they mutually agreed they were done with their catch-up through some unspoken telepathy.

“Twist my arm why don’t you, Jones,” Y/N laughed, gathering her own bag, “I’ll be there, of course I will, just text me the details,” she said before wrapping her arms around Sarah in a parting hug before stepping out in the warm air of August in London.

Y/N was running late as the spindly heels she was wearing clip clopped up the front step of the townhouse that ‘sketch’ London was housed in. She greeted the doorman with her signature radiant smile, indicating she was with the Jones party already seated in ‘The Gallery’. Y/N was actually, very excited for the evening, she loved a night out, she loved sketch and The Gallery had recently been redesigned by an artist she really admired and was so looking forward to seeing it. The doorman led her through to the formerly pink room, which was now a mixture of sunshine and honeyed yellows and golds. Letting her eyes dart around the room, she found Sarah sat in one of the massive booths with a pink foil birthday hat sat jauntily atop her head.

“Y/N/N” she squealed when she saw her best friend flit through the throngs of people around the dining room, there were a couple of other tables near the booth that also houses Sarah’s guests.

“Happy Birthday Miss Jones,” Y/N sang as she shuffled into the booth next to her, wrapping her in a quick hug and pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Sorry I’m late, meeting ran late, had to get ready, traffic, the usual,” she rhymed off while peeling off the leather jacket she had donned.

“Don’t be daft, haven’t even ordered yet, thanks for coming though,” Sarah said sincerely with a smile to her best friend.

“I said I’d be here,” Y/N playfully nudged Sarah by her shoulder as her eyes cast around the table, catching eyes with Charlotte at the bottom of the table and sending her and her boyfriend a wave with the twinkling of her fingers.

“Ordered you a drink though with the last round though, should be on its way in a sec,” said Sarah as she adjusted her party hat that was slipping farther and farther back her head, snapping the elastic back into place under her chin.

“You’re a star, Sarah,” Y/N responded while reaching across her best friend to greet Mitch in a quick hug and greeting.

“Y’should know though…” Sarah began, a slight note of apprehension evident in her voice.

“Ah finally decided to show up then, princess,” a mocking voice said from behind Y/N making her snap her head round and up to be met with the smuggest face she’d ever seen.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Y/N groaned glancing back over at Sarah who gave her a quick apologetic look before diving into a conversation with Mitch and one of their friends, deciding she was better staying out of it.

“Happy to see me, Y/N/N?” Harry smirked down at her, placing down the black tray of drinks he had been toting back with him on the table, people in the immediate vicinity grabbing their respective drinks off the tray, leaving two margaritas on the tray.

“Don’t call me that,” she gritted out.

“Ah, sorry, I’ll stick to princess then.” he took his time to glance down at her taking in her all-black outfit, “did you not get the memo this was a birthday party and not a funeral Y/N?” he mused.

“Oh, get fucked, why are you bothered what I’m wearing, hm?” she narrowed her eyes at him.

“I’m not, just feel you’re bringing the mood down, but you would do that anyway in any outfit, wouldn’t you?” he said, scrutinising her. “Move anyway, you’re in my seat,” Harry grumbled.

“Has it got your name on it?” Y/N asked as she looked around her seat, looking for a name tag, mocking him.

“I was sat there before y’came in,” Harry edged closer to her.

“And you weren’t sat in it when I did come in, so go cry about it to someone else, I’m sitting here,” Y/N shot back.

“Hey,” Mitch voiced up from further along the booth, “the pair of you drop it and Harry, sit down,” he was definitely using his ‘Dad’ voice on the pair. Harry had no choice to sit down in the vacant seat next to Y/N on the edge of the booth, as the group’s server arrived and began taking their orders for dinner.

“Twat,” Y/N uttered under her breath.

“Bitch,” Harry whispered to himself.

***

Dinner passed, relatively drama free. Relatively. Besides the few times that Harry’s elbow managed to catch Y/N’s just as she was about to take a bite of her food, knocking her hand away from her mouth, and the once or twice Y/N accidentally flicked Harry in the face with the ends of her hair as she whipped her head round to talk to someone. Maybe the few times Harry kept moving Y/N’s drink further away from her immediate grasp on the table when she wasn’t looking so she would look up puzzled, eyes searching for her glass and Harry could let out a slow drawl of “lost somethin’?” There was zero issue when her sharp heel impaled his foot through the black Vans he donned as she readjusted her seating position, his face forming into a grimace as he let out an irritated huff after the third time she had done so. No, it was drama free, for the most part. Y/N was actually having a good night, catching up with friends and making new ones of Sarah’s that she was meeting for the first time. Once she had managed to tune out his voice that seemed to have a point to make in every conversation she was having.

The copious number of cocktails getting delivered to the table had really loosened Y/N up over the evening, and her annoyance at Harry’s presence was barely thought about now as the meal had finished. They had both slipped into separate conversations and were no longer paying attention to each other or trying to rile each other up. Y/N wasn’t sure who was even ordering her drink of choice any longer, it just kept showing up just as she emptied the previous glass. While deep in conversation across the table with Charlotte, discussing new projects they were both working on, Y/N went to take a swig out her glass to realise it was empty for the first time all night, pouting at the empty glass and licking the remnants of the salt rim from her lips she decided it was time she got her own refill. Gesturing to Charlotte that she would return in a few minutes to continue their conversation. She dug around next to her on the velvet clad bench she was sat on for her handbag, coming across the chain strap. Sliding it onto her shoulder she turned round to the birthday girl, “D’you want another drink, gorgeous?” leaning into her ear so she would hear you over the chatter and music.

“Oh, I’ll have one of whatever you’re having, since you’re offering,” Sarah grinned at Y/N then giving her a sloppily placed kiss to the cheek.

“Okay drunky, I’ll be back in a few,” Y/N giggled, standing up where she sat, wriggling her trousers back up her waist before turning to exit the booth. Only to see, that stupid, smug smile looking up at her.

“Not going to offer to get me a drink, darling?” Harry asked, his eyes roaming up her body before settling on her face, he took a sip from his glass, finishing his own drink, baring his teeth in a hiss as he felt the burn of alcohol slide down his throat.

“Fat chance of that, move, I need out,” Y/N said watching as Harry’s arm stretched round the back of the booth, resting on the back where she was just sat.

“Aw come on, that’s not very nice,” he complained, a fake pout settling on his face.

“I never claimed to be nice, now move,” she glared down at him.

“Say please,” he smirked.

“How does fuck off sound instead?” Y/N was getting more irritated by the second, and Harry knew exactly how to push her buttons.

“No drink, no exit,” he shrugged his shoulders letting out a breathy laugh as Y/N narrowed her eyes at him.

“Fine,” she glanced down to see his hand still resting against the seat back where she stood. She dropped her bag back down onto the bench of the booth as Harry smirked, thinking he had won. She smiled softly before clutching his hand in hers, before swinging her leg over his lap, her left foot landing on the floor on the opposite side of him. She was straddling him, and Y/N could see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as his eyes widened in shock and the smirk dropped from his lips at her risqué behaviour. She lingered for not even a second before popping her other leg over his lap, so she had exited the booth over the top of him. Letting go of his hand, she leant across him grabbing the chain strap of her bag in her hand. Her eyes flickered to his as she slowly stood back up, her teeth sinking into her lower lip before uttering a quiet, “thanks for the boost, Harry,” letting out an airy laugh as she turned on her heel and sauntered over to the bar. Y/N could almost feel Harry’s eye boring into the back of her head.

***

“Can I get two ‘Fantasmargaritas’ please?” Y/N smiled at, the very handsome, bartender.

“You’ve been here before, if you know our speciality” the bartender said as he began making the two drinks a soft smile gracing the man’s lips.

“Oh yeah, I tend to frequent the places I get my favourite margarita,” she praised sliding onto a bar stool at the end of the bar, “and the bar staff aren’t too bad either,” Y/N chuckled.

The bartender eyes snapped up at the woman’s bold comment before a genuine smile graced his face.

“Y/N, I should’ve known it was you with a comment like that,” he laughed putting the cocktail shaker down, wiping his hands down on his apron before coming round the end of the bar to pull her into a hug.

“Lennon,” Y/N sang, squeezing him as she hugged him back. “How have y’been?” she probed leaning on the bar top as Lennon stepped back round behind it to keep making her drinks.

“Between Uni and here? I’m living the dream, Y/N/N,” he laughed as he began shaking the cocktail vigorously.

“You’re doing your master’s now, right? How is it? I keep saying I’m going to go do mine, but I just don’t think I’ve got it in me,” she sighed.

“Well, I’ve only threatened to drop out about three times so, take from that what you will,” he snickered.

“Oh, so better than undergraduate then? Considering you were dropping out of that every other week,” Y/N teased him as he let out a loud laugh.

“Nah, it could be worse, who are y’here with anyway?” Lennon asked his eyes scanning the length of the bar to look for any other person his friend could be with.

“We’re the birthday group in the middle, pink foil hat? That’s us.” she smiled pointing over her shoulder with her thumb.

“Ah, the group with Mr. Styles,” Lennon said knowingly, pouring the first margarita in a glass over ice before filling up the shaker to repeat the process.

“Not you as well,” Y/N let out a huff in annoyance at Harry being dragged into another conversation.

“Hey, we were all told he was here and to be on our best behaviour, that’s all I’m saying,” he looked up as Y/N took a long drink from her freshly made drink.

“See, this is the issue, y’hear he’s here and suddenly everyone is acting different and bending over backwards,” she began to rant before calming down with another sip of the drink.

“So, I take it you’re not a fan?” Lennon snorted as he passed the other drink over to Y/N.

“He’s a twat.” Y/N said firmly.

“He seems keen on you then,” Lennon countered as he cleaned up the mess he’d made from making the drinks.

“What’s that supposed to mean,” Y/N quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Just that he’s not taken his eyes off of you the entire time we’ve been talking,” Lennon said lowly, looking past her head, clocking Harry. Y/N swivelled in her seat, to look over her shoulder, as nonchalantly as possible, to see that, indeed, Harry was staring the interaction between Y/N and Lennon down. When he caught her looking, he kept his eyes on hers and his lips ticked into that signature smirk. Y/N spun back round to see Lennon laughing at her noise of disgust and her eyeroll. “What’s even the matter between you two?” Lennon looked at her with a puzzled expression as he began mixing a few other drinks for other customers.

“He’s just never been that nice of a person to me, and I’m not going to be nice to a wanker that doesn’t deserve it,” Y/N sighed taking another sip from her drink.

“Y’ever thought you maybe weren’t that great to him either when you met?” Lennon suggested tentatively.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Y/N’s jaw fell open at his accusing.

“Look, I know you, y’can be a bit… guarded, shall we call it, and he was taking Sarah away from you-”

“I’m really happy for Sarah and the opportunities he’s given her,” Y/N shot back.

“I’m not saying you’re not, you two were attached at the hip and to go from that to hardly seeing each other, ever thought y’blamed him for that?” Lennon proposed slinging his towel over his shoulder. Y/N sat quietly for a few moments, trying to let what Lennon said sink in, he’s not wrong, in fairness. She knows she can be a tough cookie to crack on first meeting, could she have been nicer, she pondered.

“No, fuck that, and even if it’s true that doesn’t give him any excuse to act like a knob and continue being a complete and utter dickhead-”

“Y/N” Lennon cut her off suddenly and she soon found out why when she felt a presence over her shoulder and arm land on the seat back.

“Who’s a dickhead?” that slow drawl Y/N was accustomed to hearing questioned.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Y/N muttered her back arching away from his arm across the back of her stool. Lennon’s eyes flickered between the two before settling on Harry.

“What can I get you, mate?”

“Reposado on the rocks, top shelf,” Harry replied, his eyes still stuck on the side of Y/N’s head as Lennon walked down the bar to grab the top shelf bottle of tequila.

“So, you disappear for a few minutes, and I find you flirting with the bar staff, hm?” Harry said still with a shit-eating grin stuck to his face.

“I wasn’t flirting,” Y/N shot back.

“Sure looked like it,” Harry shrugged moving to lean on the bar top and stare her down.

“What does it matter to you if I was?” Y/N demanded, an unimpressed look settling on her features.

“It doesn’t matter to me, I was just… curious,” Harry began, his eyes quickly taking her in, she was perched on the stool, one knee crossed over the other, her tall heels peeking out the bottom of her wide legged black dress trousers which had a gold pinstripe through them. She had a black graphic tee with a print that Harry didn’t recognise tucked into the waistband, the shirt was just low cut enough his eyes could linger across her decolletage, where her gold chain sat pretty.

“Curious?” Y/N asked leaning forward in her seat towards him, seemingly drawn in.

“Wanted to see how you flirt, if you’re going for the bar staff you must be getting desperate,” Harry teased.

“Go to hell, Harry,” she spat out at him before calling over to Lennon, “how much do I owe you,” she asked trying to dig out her wallet from her bag as quickly as she could so she could get away from Harry as soon as possible.

“Oh uh- let me check,” Lennon said, sensing the tension between the two patrons of the bar, turning round to check the price on the register.

“I’ll get it,” Harry voiced his hand pulling out his own wallet.

“I can pay for my own drinks, Harry,” Y/N fired back.

“I didn’t say you couldn’t, I’m just saying I’ll get these, I’ve got the rest of them all night,” Harry muttered, the last bit under his breath.

“What?” Y/N asked, realising that someone had to be paying for the cocktails that kept appearing for her at the table during dinner, she just didn’t expect it to be Harry.

“Nothing,” Harry murmured, pulling a few notes out his wallet.

“Uh, I’m going to take this to Sarah, Lennon it was nice seeing you,” Y/N finished her own margarita before lifting the full glass to take back to the table.

“Yeah, you too Y/N, I’ll call you, yeah, we’ll have a proper chat,” he smiled at her.

“Mhm, yeah, please do call. I think I need to go get some air,” Y/N slid off the stool and turned walking back to the table to take Sarah her drink. Her head swimming, thinking about the absolute mindfuck that is Harry Styles.

She walked back to the table, leaning into the booth to catch Sarah’s attention.

“Oh hi, Y/N/N, thought you got lost,” Sarah smiled up, her eyes heavy as she was a bit more intoxicated that when Y/N had last seen her.

“Nah, not lost, ran into a friend and then, um,” she paused not knowing what to say, “here’s your drink Jonesy,” she said changing the subject, placing the glass down in front of her.

“Ahh, thank you, my gorgeous, favourite, best friend,” Sarah bubbled, taking Y/N’s hand, and placing a kiss to it.

“You’re welcome, silly, listen I’m just going to step out for a bit of air,” Y/N smiled at Sarah who pouted in return. She had good reason to pout too, Y/N had this habit of ‘stepping out for air’ and failing to return, she’d just decide she was over it and go home without saying anything. “Promise I’ll be back, look, I’m even leaving my jacket, y’know I love that jacket,” Y/N pointed down at the crumpled jacket sat on the bench next to Sarah. Y/N straightened Sarah’s party hat on top of her head after it had slipped down the back again before turning round and making her way to the exit. She had to walk past the bar on her way out the room and tried to keep her eyes on the floor, but she just couldn’t help it. They flashed up to connect with Harry’s own green ones as she left. He seemed to be in a conversation with Adam and Lennon behind the bar, although Harry was seemingly not that interested because as soon as Y/N’s eyes were on him he clocked her. Y/N heard him utter a “keep the change mate,” as he left a few notes on the bar top as she exited the gallery and went out onto the street. The street was surprisingly quiet considering the time of night, which Y/N was grateful for as she leant against the wrought-iron railing of sketch and looked towards the sky inhaling deep breaths of the cool summer air.

She was confused to say the least. He didn’t get to do that to her, he didn’t get to act like he hated her then pay for her all evening without telling, what even was that? She tipped her head back further trying to find stars but was left bitterly disappointed, as always, when the London smog and light pollution kept them from her.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he stood next to her now, as she kept her eyes trained on the sky, refusing to look at him.

“I have a lot of thoughts, don’t think you would want to hear half of them,” Y/N laughed dryly.

“Try me,” Harry persisted.

“Hm,” Y/N let silence fall between them, pulling her gaze from the sky to the reflection in the windows of the building across the street. She saw herself, arms folded across her chest, one ankle crossed over the other, and the taller figure next to her, leant against the railing with his head tilted so he could see her in his eyeline, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at him just yet.

“You don’t like me,” Harry mumbled.

“Where did you get that idea?” Y/N asked sarcastically, still watching their reflection, “you don’t like me either,” she finished. Harry didn’t respond to that, just let the silence hang between them.

“Why did you even come out here?” Y/N demanded, her voice raising now, annoyed at Harry’s silence, “if you’re not going to say anything.”

“I just wanted to see if you wer-” Harry began before his voice died in his throat.

“What? See if I was okay, that’s rich, I can look after myself,” she shot him down, beginning to seethe at him lingering over her.

“Y’know what Y/N, you don’t get to act like you’re the only pissed off one here,” Harry’s own voice raising a few decibels.

“What the hell have you got to be pissed about? Y’bought me a few drinks, that I didn’t know about, and I didn’t fall to your feet, if it’s that big a deal Harry I’ll send you the money for them, god forbid I owe you anything,” Y/N scoffed at him, finally turning her body round to look at him, she was sure her eyes were blazing by now as she took him in, his jaw set.

“See, this is what I mean, it’s not a big deal, I don’t want y’to pay for them and I certainly never asked you to fall to my feet. You make out I expect everyone to worship me, and never once, have I said that. Not once, Y/N.” Harry rebuffed, running a hand through his hair.

“Everyone changes when you’re around Harry, whether you notice it or not, everyone changes their behaviour because you’re there, y’just don’t like it because I don’t, I treat you exactly how you treat me,” Y/N said, her voice calming ever so slightly, the calm before the storm some would say.

“Oh yeah, and how is it I treat you Y/N?” Harry fumed.

“Like shit,” Y/N said lowly getting closer to Harry’s face to make sure he heard her, before stepping back again, her head turning back round to see the reflection. “You treat me like shit, Harry.”

“How? When have I ever treated you badly?” Harry asked, seemingly genuinely interested.

“You called me desperate not even twenty minutes ago, I wouldn’t exactly call that friendly banter,” she hissed out at him. “That’s not the first time either.”

“I don’t mean that shit, Y/N,” Harry cringed at the memory, he had said she was desperate and probably more than once.

“Well, that’s sort of hard to believe when you keep saying it. You’re a grade A arsehole Harry, we don’t like each other, let’s call it a day at that.” Y/N was ready to be done with the conversation, argument, row, whatever the pair were having get in a taxi and go, she could always pick up her jacket from the restaurant in the morning.

“Nah, you don’t get to walk off and say that I’m the only arsehole in this situation,” Harry began taking another step towards her as they stared each other down. “You’ve never liked me, when we first met, I tried so fucking hard with you, Y/N, but you wouldn’t let me, I invited you to shows, I asked about what you did, I did everything I was supposed to. You’re the one who decided not to open up, you’re the one that shut me down before even giving me a fucking chance.” Harry’s voice was getting louder again.

“Keep your voice down,” Y/N hissed at him.

“No, I won’t, not until you tell me why, why you decided from the get-go that I wasn’t good enough for Miss Y/L/N, hmm?” Harry’s eyes narrowed at her.

“You’re a twat,” Y/N muttered.

“Yeah, you’ve said, now why?” Harry pushed.

“Because…” Y/N’s voice shrank, barely audible as a car engine cut above it as it drove down the street.

“Because what, Y/N? Come on y’know I haven’t got all night, seeing as you seem so concerned about my busy schedule, eh?” Harry’s words, dripping in sarcasm and Y/N was, honestly, quite over the condescending tone, so she lost it.

“Because I’m fucking jealous, alright!” Y/N almost shouted, a baffled look crossing Harry’s face but before he could interject, she kept going. “I’m jealous of your relationship with Sarah, feel like y’took her from me, and now she’s got you, and Mitch, and all these incredible opportunities, and I’m so fucking happy for her because she deserves it more than anybody I know, deserves it more than you,” she said giving him a pointed look, “but I’m jealous, because she doesn’t need me anymore okay, you took her from me and now she doesn’t need me. That’s why I can’t stand you.”

“You’re mental, y’know that?” Harry questioned.

“Oh, fuck off, Harry,” Y/N began to walk away.

“No, you’re not walking away, Y/N,” Harry grabbed her forearm pulling her back to him. “Of course, Sarah needs you, you’re her best friend, she was going to cancel this whole thing tonight if you told her y’werent coming, she’s been thinking for weeks you would tell her no, she done all of this just so you could spend time together.” Harry said sincerely. “As for the jealousy thing, that’s just fucking ridiculous, I’ve been jealous of you the entire time,” he scoffed.

“Jealous of me?” Y/N almost screeched, “now I know you’ve lost it,” rolling her eyes at him.

“Of course, I’m bloody jealous, everyone automatically likes you for you, no one puts on a front as you put it, just to be mates with you, why d’you think I tried so hard to be your friend,” Harry barked, they were still almost shouting at each other in the street at this point, surely still too worked up to realise their voices were so loud.

“I don’t think calling me desperate is a way to be my friend,” Y/N refuted as they got in each other’s faces.

“Well, I don’t think calling me a prick and arrogant to every person y’meet is a way to be mine, god you’re fucking aggravating” he spat, keeping his darkened eyes on hers.

“Who said I wanted to be your friend, anyway” Y/N bellowed, arms crossing, defences going back up after she came clean about why she had a disdain towards him.

“What did you want to be then?” his signature smirk played at the corner of his lips.

“You make it easy to want to slap that stupid smirk off your face,” Y/N chastised, stepping back, leaning against the railing again as Harry stepped to stand in front of her, her arm came up to stop his approach, hand landing on his solid chest.

Harry’s eyes glanced down to see her hand against his chest, “Y/N,” he said his voice dropping down lowly as his own hand came up to clutch at the wrist of her hand that was pressing into him. Her eyes stayed on his.

“I’m going to kiss you,” his voice warned, stepping closer as he pulled her hand away from his chest, keeping a grip on her wrist.

“You’re not serious?” Y/N mumbled, her tongue darting out to wet her lips on instinct.

“As a heart attack,” his lips were on hers, in a lingering kiss before he pulled back, his eyes searching hers before a breathy laugh came from his nose seeing her jaw dropped open in surprise.

“So bloody aggravating…” he almost groaned, ready to turn around and walk away from the infuriating girl but before he got the chance to step backwards, Y/N had ripped her arm from his grip and threw it around his neck, pulling him into her body and into another searing kiss. Their lips moved feverishly against each other as Harry stood closer to her, crowding over her, his hands coming to rest on either side of her body gripping the railing. She left one hand at the nape of his neck and the other gripped his bicep through the blue checked jacket he was wearing. Harry’s tongue slipped through his lips and traced her bottom lip, at Y/N’s gasp, he took it as his go ahead as he licked into her mouth, his tongue caressing hers as their lips still worked each other. Y/N’s hands carded up into the back of Harry’s hair as she gave a light tug to his roots. Breaking the kiss, as Y/N’s bag slipped down off her shoulder down the arm that was clutching onto Harry’s bicep, to rest in the bend of her elbow. Harry’s own hand came up to hold her jaw, his fingers resting under her earlobe, his thumb caressing her cheek as he placed kissed down the opposite side of cheek and jaw, before trailing down her neck, sucking lightly at the skin as he went.

“H-Harry, more, need more,” Y’N uttered her hips ticking forward to press her entire body against his. He came up for air before pressing another kiss to her lips.

“Demanding little thing, aren’t you?” He smirked against her lips, his knee splitting her legs open so his thigh could rest in between hers.

“You really are a prick,” Y/N groaned pulling at his hair again.

“You still live in Camden?” He whispered pressing another kiss under her earlobe. Y/N nodded her head as best she could given her predicament. “C’mon Y/N/N, let’s go,” he went to stick his hand out to hail a taxi that was making its way down the street.

“I said don’t call me that, you don’t get nickname privilege just for a kiss” she gritted out before grabbing his hand to stop him hailing the car. “I need to go get my jacket and say bye to Sarah,” she said trying to untangle herself from him.

“Just text Sarah,” he moaned trying to intertwine their fingers, “I’ll get you a new bloody jacket, let’s just go, wanna find out what does get me nickname privileges.”

“Don’t be a twat, this is why people like me, cause I’m nice and say goodbye, try it sometime, you could learn something,” Y/N said knocking him away from the sucking mark he was trying to leave on her neck, “and I’m getting my own jacket, y’can’t jus’ throw money at it, that’s what makes you seem like a knob,” Y/N snorted walking back to the entrance of ‘sketch’ before calling to him over her shoulder, “call a car, I won’t be long.” She strut back in, swinging her hips just a little more to rile him up.

“You’re a bitch,” he called after her.

“I know, you’ve said” Y/N winked at him as she walked back into sketch.

***

“Y/N/N!!!” Sarah was wobbling on her feet by the time that Y/N reached her back at the table as she was doing some sort of two step to the music playing. “Hiya gorgeous, listen, I’m feeling a little worse for wear after being outside,” she absolutely was not, if anything, her time outside with Harry had sobered her up massively. “I think I’m going to grab my things and head home, okay?” Y/N said her hands holding onto Sarah’s to keep her best friend steady.

“Are you sure you can’t stay?” Sarah’s pout started to form

“Nah, honestly, I’ve got a meeting tomorrow too,” she didn’t, “need to try and sober up for that so I can get through that without the need to be sick,” Y/N giggled to try and convince Sarah of her little white lie.

“D’you need me to call you a ride, or I’ll get Mitch to do it,” Sarah clutched onto Y/N’s arm to hold herself steady.

“What am I doing?” Mitch piped up from behind Sarah taking a grip of his girlfriend so Y/N could let her go to slide her jacket on.

“Nothing, s’fine, I’ve already ordered a car it’s on its way, promise I’m fine,” Y/N smiled at them both.

“As long as you’re sure,” Sarah said with a blissed-out smile, her hand coming up to clumsily rumple Y/N’s hair.

“Perfectly sure,” Y/N laughed at Sarah clutching her hand that she picked off the top of her head, “I’ll call you tomorrow, yeah?” she said sliding her bag back up on her shoulder.

“Thank you so so much for coming, Y/N/N, wouldn’t have even done this if you couldn’t make it,” Sarah threw herself into Y/N’s arms in a tight embrace as Y/N suddenly felt overcome with love for her best friend.

“Ah, you’re turning me to mush. I love you Jones, so much,” Y/N said wistfully, giving the brunette a squeeze before untangling herself to make her leave. Just as she was about to walk back past the bar to exit, she heard a call from behind her.

“Y/N! You haven’t seen Harry, have you? I’ve not seen him since he was at the bar with you, and that was a while ago,” Mitch called across the room as Sarah looked up at her partner with a puzzled look in her eye.

“Uh-uh n-no I’ve not seen him, sorry Mitchy, I’ll uh- see you guys soon,” Y/N stammered out as Mitch quirked an eyebrow at her, seemingly sceptical of her answer. Giving herself a shake, she gave the group a quick wave before making a dash to leave again.

She finally made it out onto the street, not after bumping into Lennon in the doorway who was having a smoke, Y/N tried to rush through the customary ‘it was so nice seeing you’ and the ‘we’ll catch up soon,’ before Lennon was placing a quick kiss to the cheek as she dashed out.

She looked at the railing where she had left Harry to find it void of any other people, looking up the street to see it deserted too. Surely, he hadn’t left. She spun on her heel to face the opposite end of the street to see the maddening man with his tousled hair leaning against an idling car a few paces down, with the rear passenger seat propped open.

“Didn’t think I’d leave, did you?” Harry questioned as Y/N set off towards him.

“Wouldn’t put it past you,” Y/N stopped in front of him speaking bluntly.

“Well, that’s a nice surprise for you that I stayed then, eh? Your chariot awaits,” he winked holding out his hand in offering to help her into the car. She glanced down at his manicured hand before ignoring it completely, tossing her bag into the backseat and following in after it – without his assistance.

“My chariot,” Y/N snorted turning to see him sliding in the car next to her. “a private hire town car, y’sure know how to treat ‘em, Styles.”

“Hey if I don’t get nickname privileges neither do you,” he muttered slamming the door shut.

“Styles is hardly a nickname when it’s your actual name,” Y/N retorted as the driver took off on the quarter of an hour journey.

“Shut up and c’mere, yeah?” Harry hushed her grabbing her hand that laid on the bench between them. Y/N leaned over her lips ghosting over his, but never quite meeting, no matter how much Harry tilted his head trying to slot them together.

“Can’t even wait 15 minutes to kiss me, think you’re the desperate one, Harry,” she whispered her breath fanning across his face before she pulled away and sitting back in her seat, a glimmer of mischief in her eye as Harry kept his hand in hers.

“You’re a-“

“I’m a bitch, should think of some new names to call me, Harry, that one’s getting old,” her eyes were sparkling now as she continued to push at his buttons.

“You’re the devil,” he kept his eyes on her as she bit her lip seductively, whether she meant it that way or not, it was certainly seducing Harry.

“Well, you know what they say, treat them mean, keep them keen,” she laughed airily.

“Oh, I’m definitely keen,” Harry’s voice was thick with lust as he took their hands that were intertwined, lifting their tangled fingers to his knee, before dragging them up his thigh and resting her hand over the growing hardness in his trousers, leaving his own hand over the top of hers. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as her eyes cast down to where her hand lay resting, back up to his own gaze. If she could see herself, she knew her eyes would be dark with want, the sparkle of mischief being taken over completely by her desire for him. “Cat got your tongue, Y/N?” Harry breathed, leaning over his nose running the length of her jaw from her ear lobe up to the corner of her mouth where he placed another kiss. Harry was chuckling wickedly at Y/N’s seemingly shocked reaction to his boldness. Her eyes flickered from where their hands remained unmoving, and her teeth sank into her bottom lip before her eyes came up to focus on Harry’s bright green eyes. She ticked forward, leaning in closer to him before uttering lowly, “no, but it’s certainly got yours.” With that, the hand that was resting on Harry’s ever pressing erection, twitched, as she took a hold of him through the fabric of his trousers and squeezed lightly, cutting off Harry’s mocking laughter, his breath catching in his throat as he fought to keep his hips from jerking up into Y/N’s grip.

Breathing heavily through his nose, he kept his gaze on hers, “how long left mate?” he called over to the driver, his voice raspy with need and before he even heard their driver’s response, he surged forward to connect their lips again, his free hand coming up to tangle in her hair on the back of her head.

***

She took his hand this time. As the car stopped outside Y/N’s flat and Harry slid out the backseat he held his hand out and this time she actually took it to hoist herself out the car, while adjusting the low-cut t-shirt - that was showing just a bit more than she was comfortable with for a public street – that had become displaced with the pairs heavy petting in the backseat.

“Don’t do that on my account, I’ll get to see a lot more in a few minutes,” Harry grinned his eyes dipping down to try and catch an eyeful.

“You’ll see fuck all, if you keep talking to me like that,” Y/N started taking her hand back before slapping him in the chest and taking her bag out of his other hand that he had grabbed on his way out the car, stalking towards the front door. Harry’s hurried footsteps chased Y/N up to the front door and he gripped her hips from behind, pressing himself into her.

“Don’t be like that,” he almost whimpered out. She paid him no mind as she rifled through her bag looking for the bundle of keys, not even as he took his hand and pulled her hair away from her neck and began pressing long, sucking kisses to her neck, occasionally grazing her skin with his teeth which made Y/N shudder. She managed to open the building door and spun around gripping his hand to lead him in. “Hope you can keep your hands to yourself long enough to get upstairs,” she said keeping their hands intertwined as she led him to the stairs.

“Which floor?” Harry asked lowly pulling her into his chest before she started up the steps to stop her.

“Third,” Y/N breathed.

“Better give me somethin’ to tide me over then, babe,” he disconnected their hands wrapping his own round the small of her back, pressing her into him as he sealed their lips together. His tongue split through his lips and traced her own bottom one begging for entrance which she gladly gave him, their tongues meshing. Harry stood over the top of her as he kept her in place against his body, Y/N needed to get some power back in the dynamic they were in, so pushed up on her toes, her teeth lightly nipped into Harry’s bottom lip, pulling it back and letting it pop back into place as she unlocked his hands from her back and began up the stairs at high speed to gain some ground on him. The sound of her heels hitting the steps, echoing in the quiet building.

She made it to her front door before he caught up with her, turning the key in the lock quickly entering the flat and spinning on her heel to face out her front door. Harry approached with looking wild-eyed as he took her in, holding the door so he couldn’t enter. He placed one hand on the door frame and leant in to try and capture her lips in his again, but she turned her head, so he caught her cheek.

“What is it now?” he grumbled, brows furrowing.

“Say sorry,” that glint of mischief was back in Y/N’s eye.

“Huh?”

“Say sorry, or y’can forget about whatever we were going to do,” her tone was playful, Y/N knew herself, even if he told her to do one with her request for an apology, she would probably let him and let him do whatever he pleased with her, she was too far gone for him now. Though she wanted to see how far she could push him.

“Y/N, babe…” he started, give him his due, he did look sincere, although that could be the insane pressure, he was feeling, building in his underwear that was forcing him to give in and give her anything she wanted. “I am sorry, truly.”

“Hmm, for what?” she tilted her head at him, questioning, although Harry swore, she opened the door slightly further.

“For calling you desperate…”

“And?”

“And for being rude and generally, jus’ being a prick to you,” he said, a small smile gracing his lips.

“Hmm,” Y/N pondered over his words.

“What else d’you want me to say Y/N, fuck’s sake, you really are the most infuriating woman I’ve ever met,” and at that Y/N pulled him into the flat by his shirt, shutting the door and locking it behind him before planting her lips back on his.

“You’re insufferable Harry and the biggest arseho-” Y/N began but she cut herself off with her own moan as Harry pushed her back into the wall of the flat’s entryway, his mouth beginning to suck and leave bruising marks across her neck.

“Yeah? Tell me how you really feel baby, tell me y’hate me, come on,” Harry grunted as he shucked her leather jacket from her shoulders letting it land on the laminate flooring, pressing his hips forward so she could feel his cock against her thigh.

“I do, I do hate you,” Y/N panted her hand coming up to weave her fingers through his thick hair keeping his lips to her neck.

“The feelings mutual, princess,” he growled into her throat before coming up to nip at her earlobe. Harry split her legs open with his knee and brought his thigh to the apex of her own, much like he had done outside sketch but this time he didn’t have to hold back. He brought his hands to the plush of Y/N’s hips and encouraged her to rock herself back on his thigh, he could feel her heat radiating, even through their layers of clothing. A high whine escaped Y/N’s throat as she tipped her head back against the wall and her eyes screwing shut as she continued to grind herself down on him, Harry pulled away from her neck, watching her writhe in a fit of pleasure. “Look at you,” he moaned, he was getting off just watching her, “you can’t get enough, y’like a bitch in heat,” his tone was mocking but he has never been so turned on. Y/N pushed at his chest at his comment, before pulling off his own jacket and letting it fall to the floor with hers.

“Bedroom,” she spoke pulling herself from his thigh making her way down the hall to the closed door at the end.

“That was expensive, Y/N,” Harry chastised, looking down at his crumpled heap of a jacket.

“Oh, go fucking cry about it,” Y/N rolled her eyes and when Harry started along the hall to her, she quickly tugged her t-shirt from the waistband of her trousers and pulled it up and over her head, leaving her in her heels, trousers and revealing her black bra to him where he could see her pert nipples pressing against the sheer fabric.

Entering her bedroom, Harry toed off the vans he was wearing at the door and pushed her back into her bed, hovering over her, hands on either side of her head. Y/N’s own hands gravitated to the waistband of his trousers, popping the button of the brown fabric, before grabbing at the fabric of the white Christopher Kane ‘Sex’ t-shirt he was wearing before pulling it up and over his head.

“Interesting choice of shirt,” she heaved out as Harry was licking and sucking his way to her breast, teasing her nipple through the mesh fabric.

“Call it a manifestation or somethin’” he replied, teeth grazing at one nipple while his hand cupped her other breast. Y/N could feel his length against her own pelvis and couldn’t help but buck her hips up looking for a bit of friction, the movement caused a groan to emit from low in Harry’s throat his eyes flickering up to watch her with his mouth still wrapped round her nipple through her bra. She couldn’t help it, she needed him closer, wrapping her legs around his waist pulling him tight against her, the heels of her shoes accidentally pressing into his ass.

“Eh ow?” Harry complained, pulling away from her breasts.

“Get a shift on and take them off then we won’t have a problem, will we?” Y/N retorted pulling her legs up to her chest, so he had access to remove her shoes.

“Won’t have a problem,” he grumbled under his breath, mocking what she said as he caught her by the ankle, her trouser leg rolling up to her knee as he placed a kiss where the shoe ended on her ankle. His nimble fingers quickly unlaced them before he gripped the spindly heel and tugged. Only for the shoe not to budge. He tried again to no avail. His brow furrowed he looked up to Y/N to see her lips pressed together trying not to laugh.

“There’s a zip on the back,” she snickered.

“How long were you going to keep that a secret, huh?” Harry complained finally tossing both shoes over his shoulder.

“Just wanted to see you struggle,” she giggled, reaching behind her back to remove her own bra pulling it from her arms, Harry’s eyes widening at her boldness.

“Is that how it is?” he gripped the waistband of her trousers and pulled her up into a seated position with her legs on either side of his, voice taunting her.

“Fuck you,” she spat at him.

“No, no Y/N, that’s what I’m trying to do to you,” he said softly, popping the fastening of her trousers and dragging the zipper down. She lifted her hips to aid him peeling them from her legs before he laid her back down on the swathes of blankets and her duvet. He began placing kisses down her body, stopping to dip his tongue into her clavicle, swirling it around each of her breasts and sucking each nipple into his mouth for just a second as Y/N’s back arched further into his mouth. Meanwhile, his hand was playing with the elastic of her underwear, lifting it, and letting it snap back in sharp bites against her skin. Her hips wiggled at each nip against them. Before he trailed too far down her body with his mouth, she stopped him.

“Wait, wait, stop,” she panted, and Harry’s gaze shot to hers, his head coming back up to level with hers immediately, eyes flickering all over her face checking he wasn’t pushing too far or doing something she didn’t want. “No, it’s fine, you’re fine, perfect in fact. Jus’ want these off first,” she reassured him before pushing at his trousers with shaking hands.

“Christ, Y/N, you scared me for a second, that I can do,” he went to help her draw his fly down before he paused, and that teasing lilt came back to his voice, “say please, baby.”

Y/N’s eyes blinked repeatedly, trying to take in what he said, she wanted him that was for sure. “Pl-please, Harry, please,” she almost whined, her hands gripping around his neck pulling him close, nuzzling into his neck. That’s the thing about Y/N she took no shit in her day-to-day life, but get her worked up enough in the bedroom, she would become almost docile. Almost.

“Yeah, I can do that. I’ve got you, promise, I’ve got you,” Harry groaned as he helped her push his trousers down past his hips and he kicked his legs free, a contented hum left her throat at the feeling of his bare legs against her own, finally. She could feel his hardened erection even more now as he ground himself into her, only separated by the thin fabric of each of their underwear. It was a series of pants and moans from there on out, from the pair of them.

Harry worked his way back down her body, gripping her underwear in his hands, he glanced back up at her, “can I?” and with a quick nod of her head he was sliding them down her legs, leaving his head resting on her thigh as he drank in the site of her, exposed to him. Her scent thick, folds glistening as a sign he had her worked up, she was pulling him in and before Harry could stop himself, his tongue was painting a wide strip up the length of her. Y/N’s hands flew to his hair, gripping it in fistfuls as his tongue went to work, dipping into where she wept for him before running back up and circling her sensitive clit, she wriggled and squirmed in response, hips bucking every time his tongue lingered directly on her clit.

“So fucking wet, aren’t you?” Harry groaned into her, his hips ticking into the mattress to relieve some of the tension that was building in his own crotch. “Keep still, Y/N,” he warned as she jerked up to his mouth again, and God love her, she did try to keep still, but she did say she was almost submissive in bed, Y/N still wanted to try and put up at least a little bit of a fight. She couldn’t help but try and grind her pussy against his mouth and with a quick nip to her hip he pulled away from her, his chin glistening in her arousal.

“I said, keep still,” his voice was low as he watched her with darkened eyes, as she tried to catch her breath from teetering on the edge that he pulled her back from.

“Or what?” Y/N challenged him, some of that control she liked coming back to her.

“I’ll stop,” he said, although he didn’t sound that convinced.

“I’d like to see you try, come on Harry, you know you’re just as desperate as you say I am.” She was straight up mocking him now, “maybe I’ll go back to the bar, or I’ll call Lennon, I’m sure he would sort me out, if I asked.”

With that, Harry was growling and diving back down to her mound, biting at the creases of her thighs in the process. “Not a fucking chance, this cunt is mine tonight,” he grumbled against her, licking and sucking with more determination and Y/N was approaching the edge quicker than ever. “Would that bartender make you feel like this, would he make you this wet, Y/N?”

“No- no Harry, you, jus’ you,” Y/N moaned loudly, her fingers carding through his hair, needing it to keep her tethered to reality. “Harry, I’m so- can I, can I co-come?” she was stuttering over her words as her legs began to shake over his shoulders.

He pulled his face from her, but let his fingers keep working at her to keep her close to her orgasm, his eyes gleamed wickedly in the soft glow of the bedroom lamps. “Oh no, you can’t come, baby, but thank you for asking.”

“Harry,” she whined out, her hands now going into her own hair, pulling at her roots to stop her from exploding.

“Hold it, Y/N, not until I say, y’won’t have to wait long, promise,” he was watching as his middle and ring finger worked in and out of her, the cool metal of his rings making her hiss when it collided with her hot flesh. He dipped his head back down, his tongue focusing on her clit, rolling it with the wet muscle, grazing with his teeth and he would garner the highest moans from her with quick flicks from his tongue. He kept his eyes on her face, seeing her teeth sinking into her lip every so often, her hands still pulling at her own hair.

“Hands on me,” he moaned against her, and her hands came down, her nails scratching into his scalp, Harry thrived on the slight bite of pain and was moaning lowly as he continued to rut his hips against the soft bedding, needing the friction against his painfully hard cock.

“Look at me,” he grunted as Y/N blinked down at him, her eyes almost looked panicked as she was hanging on the edge, right where Harry wanted her, on a knife edge.

“Come,” he demanded, “now, Y/N, let go babe.” That’s all she needed to hear as her orgasm bubbled over, shattering through her body as it quivered in release and a squeal leaving her lips as Harry worked her through it. “That’s it, fuck, good girl, I’ve got you. Can feel y’squeezing,” he groaned his fingers still curling inside trying to prolong her earth-shattering orgasm as long as he could until her own fingers wrapped round his wrist to stop his movements as she became overstimulated. He pulled his fingers from her before sucking them into his own mouth, moaning at her taste as he lapped them up as Y/N watched through her thick lashes as she caught her breath. He bent down, taking her into a searing kiss, his tongue licking into her mouth so she could get a taste of herself. She gripped his shoulders, Harry thought just because she was into the kiss, but was mistaken when she pulled him harshly and flipped them over, so his back hit her mattress with a puff of his breath leaving his throat at the collision.

“What’re yo-” he started trying to sit up, but Y/N kept his shoulders pressed down on the bed.

“Shh, it’s my turn,” and she went to work, suckling on his earlobe before trailing down his neck, letting her nails scratch lightly against his torso, leaving trails of goosebumps in their path.

“Y/N,” he whimpered, she could feel the muscles of his abdomen rippling under her touch as her hand kept trailing down, he was still in his black briefs, and she could see the dampened spot that held the head of his cock pressed against them. She wanted them off, wanted to see him in all his glory, although she’d never let him hear that.

“What is it, Harry?” her tongue licked over his nipple before her teeth sank lightly into his pec. “Can’t keep still baby? Just remember, unlike you, I can stop, I could walk away and leave you right now, sweating, and needy,” she teased him, kisses dipping lower as her fingers began to skate under the thick band of his briefs. In a moment of boldness, her hand slipped completely into his underwear, and she gripped him, squeezing lightly and Harry let out a low, slow rumble at the sensation of finally having her hand on him. Y/N knew he was big from all their heavy petting and grinding, but now she had a grip of him she just had to see for herself. Scooting down her bed on her knees letting her free hand grip his underwear to pull them off, Harry raised his hips to help her long as she peeled them down his legs. His rock-hard length coming up to slap against his stomach, leaving a speckle of precum in its place. Harry watched her, his ego inflating as her eyes took in his impressive size.

“Look at you, you get off on thinking you have control,” his own hand came down to wrap around his dick, pumping slowly as she watched, thighs squeezing together, “but I know you, Y/N, you want to get your hands on me, to touch, to suck, to taste, to please me,” he taunted, thumbing over his head and slit pulling the oozing precum down to glide his hand easier. Y/N couldn’t take it anymore, and she swatted his hand off himself and wrapped her own back around, leaning over him. Harry’s breath caught as he watched her. She looked up at him, through her lashes as she opened her mouth letting a glob of spit fall and land on the crown of him as her hand began to stroke faster, her wrist twisting every time she got to the head and squeezing at his base. Harry could feel his muscles constricting in his abdomen and had to focus on not bursting as she began to kitten-lick his cock, tonguing up the ooze that was coming from his slit as she moaned at the taste.

“C’mon Y/N, be a good girl and put me in,” he tormented her, although the jeering tone dissipated relatively quickly when she nipped his thigh with her nails, and he hissed at the sharp pain.

“Get fucked, I’ll do what I want,” she complained as she squeezed his base and ran her tongue along the protruding vein on the underside of his shaft. She put him in her mouth, anyway, hollowing her cheeks and sucking his head intensely. He crumbled under the warm feeling of her mouth wrapping around him and began whimpering profusely and she began bobbing her head.

“Please, Y/N, take more, know y’can, please,” and if Harry thought she got off on the control he’d be glad to know she got off on his begging even more. She moaned and the vibrations shot through Harry, and he just couldn’t stop himself from his hips jerking as she choked around him, before having to pull off, saliva running down her chin and his cock. “Fuck m’sorry doll,” his hands scraping her hair back off her face.

“No s’fine, I can, I can do it, I like it,” she mumbled out before taking him back in her mouth working back down him slowly as not to accidentally gag herself. She got him to the back of her throat easier this time without Harry bucking up, as he kept her hair in his hands so he could watch. As she swallowed around him, a string of curses left his lips as he babbled praises at her. Y/N was thriving and trailed her free hand up his thighs to gently cup his balls. Harry was close, and with one roll and squeeze of her hand on his balls he was pulling her off him by her hair.

“Need you to stop or I’ll explode an’ I need to be inside you before I come, I need to,” he heaved out, trying to control himself.

She giggled at him as she lay down beside him, wiping her spit covered mouth on the back of her hand, “have at it then, Styles.” Grinning, Harry raised back up to his knees, leaning over her and kissing her deeply.

“D’you have a condom? I have, but it’s in my jacket on your bloody hall floor,” he said against her cheek as he peppered kisses there as she carded her fingers through his soft hair.

“Mm, top drawer, y’really need to get over the coat on the floor thing, cry-baby,” she joked as he rifled into the closest bedside table drawer, Y/N not really paying attention as she placed her own kisses on the patches of his warm skin closest to her.

“Don’t think this is a condom,” he held up a scanty piece of lace, Y/N realised was her underwear, looking to see Harry had been going through the wrong bedside cabinet.

“Wrong cabinet, arsehole,” she made a grab for her underwear and Harry pulled them from her grasp, looking joyfully down at the red lace between his fingertips.

“Can I keep these? Souvenir or reward or somethin’” he asked.

“Harry,” she warned as her hips ticked up, nudging his cock to try and get him back on track.

“Right, yeah, sorry,” this time leaning across the bed into the top drawer of the opposite bedside table, returning with a square foil package, leaving the bundled underwear behind. Feeling around the foil packet, he squeezed the condom down to the bottom before instructing Y/N to bite down on the material as he tore the package open by her teeth. Rolling it down his length, he sat with his tip at her entrance as she wriggled her hips down trying to get him to slip inside.

“Come on, Harry. Fuck me like you hate me,” she said as a parting shot as he gripped her hips and pushed in, Y/N’s back-arching at the stretch as Harry groaned in pleasure at her warm wet walls engulfing him. Once he was completely sheathed inside her, he paused, waiting for her to give him the go ahead. Her hand came up to cup his cheek, nails scratching at the skin before nodding, eyes rolling back slightly at the pressure she was feeling.

“Move, move, y’can move, please,” she choked out as Harry pulled out to slam back into her soft grunts leaving his throat. As their hips knocked together at a pace that Y/N was sure was going to bruise her, the room was filled with the scent of sex and sweat and their combined moans.

“Come on, Y/N, tell me you hate me,” he grunted out, hand trailing across her torso, tweaking at her nipple causing her to gasp and keen under his touch.

“I hate y-you,” she stammered out with her short breaths as her nails dug into his back at a particularly hard thrust.

“Yeah? Why, tell me why,” he moaned clutching behind her knee pushing it back into the bed so he could reach deeper inside her, a particularly loud moan escaped from the woman under him as he hit her g-spot repeatedly with his deeper thrusts, “there it is, there’s your spot,” he grunted, being purposeful with every thrust to hit it.

“I hate you for being rude,” she rushed out clutching onto his bicep of the arm that was keeping her knee pushed back, her toes flexing by his head. “I hate y’for calling me desperate,” she breathed out before folding for him and revealing how she really felt about that particular insult of his, “even though I am desperate, but just for you, desperate for you, Harry,” she choked out catching his eyes, her mouth falling open, there wasn’t even noise coming from her any longer, he was pounding into her so hard it she was focused on just getting oxygen in and out her lungs.

“Yeah?” he asked as she nodded pathetically, Harry’s thrusts slowing but still hitting deep and hard. “I know, y’desperate for me, can feel your needy cunt weeping for me,” his thumb came down to press into her clit, slipping around on the wetness that was pooling there. “I hate y’too, Y/N,” he grunted out, “I hate the way you wind me up, every. fucking. chance. you get,” he punctuated each word with a sharp thrust as Y/N’s hips ground down to meet his thrusts. “I hate the way that it’s the thought of you that’s got me off, ever since I bloody met you,” he was rubbing tight circles into her clit now trying to get her to a point where they could careen off the edge together. “I hate the way, we should’ve fucked months ago and avoided all the fucking arguments and rows,” he panted out.

“Fuck, Harry, m’so close, I can feel you everywhere,” Y/N’s moans were uncontrollable now as she took his hand off her knee and pressed it to her lower stomach to stimulate her that way too as she hooked her thighs over his hips.

“I know, baby, I know, come on, fucking come for me, drench me, I wanna feel it,” his thumb would not let up on her clit as he pushed further on her stomach, and with that, the scale tipped. Her whole body seized as she came, squeezing his cock in a vice as he continued to thrust to chase his own high and work Y/N through hers. Y/N’s back arched as she let go, a loud long moan escaping her. Blinking her eyes open she caught Harry’s gaze as he began to go slack-jawed about to meet his own end.

“Come, want you to come, baby. Need to see you come, Harry,” she begged as she began to recover from her second orgasm, her words were Harry’s undoing as he slammed into her once more, both hands gripping her hips to keep her still as he spilled into the condom that Y/N could still feel the warmth of him seep through the latex barrier.

“Shit,” Harry breathed out, falling into her neck, where he placed soft kisses to her sweaty skin as she stroked his fingers through his hair.

“You okay?” she questioned into the quiet once they had caught their breath.

“Peachy… you?” he sighed out, raising his head from her neck to look at her.

“Me? Yeah, I’m fine, great in fact,” she said, though Harry wasn’t convinced as he pulled out with a hiss, quickly disposing of the condom before laying down to face her.

“Hey, m’serious, what’s up?” he questioned tucking her hair back that had fallen into her face as she flipped to lay facing him too.

“I don’t know, that was… weird, right? We don’t do stuff like that, we don’t like each other,” she stammered out while also, subconsciously, leaning into Harry’s touch that lingered on her face.

“It’s only weird if we make it weird,” Harry stated simply as he drank her in, her skin glowing and eyes sparkling in post-orgasmic bliss, although she was still lost in thought, as she contemplated his words.

“I lied though,” Harry said softly as her eyes snapped up to his as he kept her gaze, “I don’t hate you, not even a little bit,” he breathed out, a small airy laugh following his admission, who would have thought he just need to have sex with Y/N to reveal how he truly felt.

“You piss me off, sometimes… a lot of the time actually” Y/N whispered into the dark as Harry laughed quietly at her remark, “but, I don’t hate you either, not at all,” she smiled softly at him before Harry wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his chest, kissing her deeply.

Breaking away from the kiss, Harry looked into her eyes, “do I get nickname privileges now?”

Out in the hall, Y/N’s phone vibrated in her handbag, that had been cast aside with the jackets on the floor, with a text from her brunette best friend.

Sarah Jones: Me and Mitch home safe, thank youu soo much for coming Y/N/N.. enjoy your night with Harry xoxo

this was so cute oh my god

blush

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

—————

Harry Lambert wants to message you!

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

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

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

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

That's how she knew him.

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

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

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

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

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

—————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————

"Is that them right there?"

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

That was Harry Styles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I was just—I mean... He was—"

"Oh my god, do you like him?"

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

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

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

Interesting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do y'want to?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————

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

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

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

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

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

—————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"(Y/N)!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"'M not busy."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do you mind if I...?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Of course."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He wanted to be pretty.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Y'brought a fairy costume?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She swallowed around the sudden dryness in her throat.

"Of course, I will."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I think I could clear my schedule."

—————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————

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

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

And she got to do it all over again tomorrow.

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

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

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

Harry Styles

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

Happy Halloween love!

She couldn't wait to see him tomorrow either.

—————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is a client, this is—

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

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

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

—————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hi."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Right?

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

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

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

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

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

—————

"(Y/N)!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Mhm."

—————

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

—————

"Did I get it?"

"No, it's still there."

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

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

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

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

"You don't want to keep it?"

"(Y/N)."

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

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

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

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

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

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

He looked beautiful.

"Did y'get it?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Four minutes, now.

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

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

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

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

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

Two minutes, now.

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

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

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

One minute.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She saw Harry.

"Goodnight, H."

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

Harry Styles:)

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

—————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sue!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hey, you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Flowers."

—————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Y'waited."

Now it was her turn to have that attention.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Wel—"

"Than—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Okay," was her lame response.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Next time, he had said.

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

—————

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

dying

CEO!Harry Styles x reader*

Warnings: smut, wet dream, unprotected sex, somnophilia, clit stimulation, dirty talk, degradation, praise kink, daddy kink, overstimulation, squirting, creampie, fingering, cockwarming, choking

Harry was asleep, having the best slumber of his life before he had to go back to work with a plethora of annoying, incompetent employees. Suddenly, he’s awoken by the sound of something rubbing his flaccid cock. He lets out a soft moan, thrusting his pelvis toward the feeling. As his cock hardens, he starts to open his eyes.

Once Harry cracks his eyes open, the first thing he sees is the back of YN’s head. Confused, he looks down to where his cock is still being stimulated.

“Fuck”

He looks down and sees his wife’s bare ass grinding on his cock. After a few seconds of him becoming fully awake, he hears her soft moans and calls of his name. He smiles and leans over her, ready to confront, only to find that her eyes are closed and her breathing is slow and even. Those are both very clear indicators that she’s still asleep. He looks at the clock, seeing that he has a few more hours until he has to be ready for work.

Harry smirks, ready to take advantage of the opportunity. He starts kissing down her neck, smiling smugly when he gets a high pitched moan out of her. He ducks his head down and sucks softly on her sweet spot, and she moans even louder, shifting her body slightly toward him.

He decides to take the opportunity and reach down, dragging a finger through her dripping folds, his cock getting impossibly harder at the feeling of her wetness. Dragging his finger up slowly, he starts to gently rub around her clit. her hips bucking at the sensation. She stirs, but only slightly, and he grabs his painfully hard cock, the angry red tip leaking precum down his thick shaft. He strokes a few times, rubbing over the head gently, hissing at the sensitivity.

Harry angles his cock downward, running his shaft through her slit, and YN moans when his head catches her clit lightly. It takes everything in him not to blow his load all over her lower lips right then. After a few seconds, Harry can finally proceed. He slowly slides his cock into her, whining softly as he bottoms out. He rubs her clit, making sure there’s no discomfort. Harry is surprised YN hasn’t awoken yet, but that changes very soon. The second he slowly pulls out and thrusts back into her tight hole and instantly catching her g-spot, her eyes are shooting open and she’s moaning out loud, bucking her hips slowly.

“Have a good dream?” Harry says teasingly, gradually picking up the pace on her clit.

“You have-FUCK- no idea”, she says, breath hitching.

Harry can feel her clenching around him and smirks. “Is my baby gonna cum? Are you gonna cum all over daddy’s cock? Make a mess on me?” and she nods her head, shamelessly moaning with her eyes screwed shut. “Yes daddy, please let me cum” she whines desperately.

“Go on, baby. Cum all over daddy’s cock like a good little slut”, he says, speeding up his hand and adding a little more pressure. On his command, YN instantly grips the sheets, hips stilling and legs shaking, screaming loudly. Harry feels something drip onto his hand and groans, cock twitching.

“Fuck, baby. You squirted for me. Did that feel good?” He says changing the speed and force of his thrusts, turning brutal. YN can only babble wordlessly, nodding her head and reaching behind her to stop his intrusion, sensitive from her first orgasm not a minute earlier.

“Aw, is my dumb little baby too sensitive? Is my cock too much for your tiny little hole?” He coos with faux sympathy, laughing rudely when she nods her head frantically. He only slams into her g-spot harder, feeling her clench around him again. He moans into her ear, his cock twitching wildly.

“Fuck, baby. i’m gonna cum. I’m gonna fill your tight little hole with my cum, you’ll be so full that you can feel me for days. I cant wait to see you swell with my load. Do you want that baby?” She can only nod, the pleasure too much for her. She clenches around him tightly, her cunt squeezing his cock.

“Awww poor baby. Are you gonna cum again for daddy? Cmon sweet girl. Soak my cock one more time for daddy” he encourages, rubbing her clit harder and bringing his free hand up to tweak her nipples.

All she can do is shake her head, trying to get away and whining, “Daddy please no. Cant, it’s too sensitive” But all he does is move his hand upward to come around her neck, squeezing the sides just enough that she feels floaty, her hand coming up to grip his wrist.

“You can and you fucking will. The only way you can get my cum is if you squeeze that pretty little cunt around me. You know that, baby. Don’t you want me to make you a mommy?” he asks sweetly.

“Yes, please daddy. Please make me a mommy” she begs, shaking all over. He kisses her neck gently, coaxing her orgasm out of her.

“Cmon baby, you can do it. Daddy’s got you. Let it go for me, sweet girl. Let it all out for Daddy” he coos gently into her ear, slowing down his thrusts. At that she whines loudly, squirting heavily on his cock and all over the bed. The feeling and the sound triggers his orgasm, and he buries himself to the hilt, head in her neck, and moans loudly while emptying his load into her.

As they catch their breaths, he peppers soft kisses all over her neck, knowing that was a lot for her. As her breathing evens out once again, he can see her drifting back to sleep, so he tries to pull his cock from her. She jolts awake and whines, pulling him back into her. “No, Daddy. Please stay inside” she says, on the verge of tears.

“Of course, baby. Whatever you need” not even two minutes later, they’re both asleep, as close as ever.

~

Two hours later, Harry is up and ready for his day. He hops in his Range Rover and starts his drive to work. On the way, he gets a call from his wife, asking him about his schedule. She was very pleased to know he only had one morning meeting and a few documents to sign. YN starts her day, formulating her plan while she showers. She uses his favorite soap of hers and uses a body scrub. After her shower, she moisturizes her body and puts on her best lingerie set, and decides on a low cut bodycon dress and some black strappy heels. She throws on a light wash blue jean jacket and grabs the keys to her white range rover, almost identical to her husband’s black one. She goes to the grocery store, getting some snacks and his favorite wine, and then goes to grab Chinese food, his favorite. As she arrives to his office, she she realizes she definitely needs help carrying these things up so she calls Harry’s best friend and business partner, Niall. Niall happily obliges, knowing that if Harry’s happy, then everyone’s happy. Entering the building and making small talk, heads turn their way because everyone knows that Niall’s temper is just as bad as Harry’s.

~

When Niall and YN get out the elevator, they see Jasmine sitting at the desk on her phone. When she hears the elevator ding, she quickly unbuttons the top of her blouse and smiles, but her smile quickly drops when she sees YN carrying a bag of food and Niall next to her with wine and grocery bags.

“Oh hello, do you have an appointment with Mr. Styles? Are you his client or something?” she asks, turning back to the computer to see if she’d missed it.

“No actually, this is a surprise visit for Harry” YN says with a sweet smile. Jasmine’s smile turns into a scowl at the use of his first name. “Oh, are you a friend?” she asks rudely.

“Something like that”, YN says with a smile as Niall laughs. “I didn’t know anyone was in the office or I would have gotten you some food as well” YN says.

Jasmine smiles at her but can’t help but be insecure at the beautiful woman. “Oh no, I’ve already eaten. Thank you,” she says with a genuine smile. “Also, I believe Mr. Styles locked his office. Would you like to sit out on one of the sofas until he returns?”

“No thank you, I have a key” YN says and Jasmine’s heart speeds up. Why does this woman have a key to his office? She doesn’t have time to ask because she and Niall are already in and closing the door. From the window she can see them setting food and wine up, but she only sees 2 plates and cups. Is Niall not staying? As Niall leaves, Jasmine deflates even more. She can see YN relaxing and waiting for Harry to come back up. One thing she knows is Harry hates surprises in his office from the day she relaxed in his office a week ago.

When she hears the elevator ding once again, she smirks, thinking of his reaction when he sees someone in his office. She can’t wait to see this.

“Hi, Mr. Styles, how was the meeting?” she asks annoyingly.

“Hello” he says and keeps walking. He stops when he hears a voice from his office, ready to pounce. “WHO THE FUCK IS IN MY OFFICE?!” he yells, storming over. Jasmine smirks in victory, but it immediately drops when she sees Harry stop scowling and a huge smile spread on his face. He rushes into the office, slamming the door open as YN stands out of the chair she was sitting in. She sees Harry grab her and kiss her hard, YN’s hand coming up to grip his hair tightly. She hears a moan as Harry bites her lip, tugging gently. Jasmine’s jaw drops in shock and she leans backwards. As if that wasn’t bad enough, YN giggles and Harry walks away toward the door. When Harry comes out, he stands in front of Jasmine’s desk. “You might want to go on lunch for a little bit, Jasmine” he says and she almost choked on her breath.

“Yes, sir. What time should I come back?” she asks, on the verge of tears. “Give me an hour” he says, turning back to his wife. She smirks, closing the blinds. Harry turns back to Jasmine. “Actually, make that 2” he says with a groan. Jasmine quickly gathers her belongings and practically sprints toward the elevator. As she waits, she hears a giggle and then a high pitched moan, and she sighs wishing the elevator would hurry up.

~

When Jasmine returns to the office 2 hours later, she feels a lot better than when she left. She can only hope they are done. She doesn’t hear anything, so she knocks on his door. When she doesn’t get a reply, she pushes the door open gently. “Mr. Styles?” she says with a smile. When she opens the door, she is shocked to see Mr. Styles with YN pinned against the office window, one hand over her mouth and the other furiously rubbing her clit. When Harry hears the door, he doesn’t stop, but turns and yells at her to get out. Jasmine backpedaled quickly and ran out sitting at her desk. Before she can find her headphones, she hears a loud groan from Harry, and a scream from YN telling him to fill her up. Jasmine gags, shoving her headphones in and blasting music. She sees a shadow go past her, and she looks up to see Harry and YN heading to the elevator, clothed. She sees them making out while waiting for the elevator. Jasmine internally screams when he hears them exchange ‘I love you’s. When Harry walks back toward his office, she was fed up and she speaks up. “Don’t you think your wife would frown upon that, Mr. Styles?” she asks boldly. Harry stops and turns to her abruptly, scaring Jasmine. “How about you mind your fucking business before I fire you. And for the record, that is my wife. Don’t let her hear you say that or you’ll surely be out the door before you can blink” he says and strolls back into his office. Jasmine is heartbroken. THAT’S his wife? She’s certainly no competition. That doesn’t mean she can’t try.

Símbolos;

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 ✃ ✄   ˗ˏ𖥸ˎ˗   ⚝ ☽ ❅ ❊ ✱ ⛥ ⛤ ⌇ ⛀ 

 ⚚ ࿊ ✣ ❛ ❜    .ᨘ۫.ꪶ   ᢁ ▋ ⊏ ⋆ ㋞ ◝◜ ㅤ ྀ ㅤ ꤬ ⃕龘⃢ 

 ᭣᭫៹ ↯ ⇢ ⇠ ⇣ ⇡ ⇾ ⇽ ༓ ᠅ ྉ ☪ ˚̩̥̩̥.   ് ൫ ∷   ᭄     ⭚ ⎆ ꩻ ⿻ .⃗₊   ִֶָ   °.ཻུ۪›› ╭   ╮ ༼   ༽ ⚐ ☙ ❧ ༶ ✤ ↚ ↛ ↞ ↟ ↠ ↡ ↢ ↤ ↥ ↦ ↧ ⇠ ⇡ ⇢ ⇣ ⇶ ➝ ➞ ➚ ➛ ⚬ ⁝ ✕ ✘ ،، ᨳ᭬   ꪶ ꫂ̽ ƒ֦٤ ᯢ ᠂⸱ེ̀.    ⃝༘⃕     .ᨘ۫.ꪶ 𖧷̷۪۪ᰰ   ⟅*(⸙͎ 

 ")

 °. ੭*

˚·*‘‘ 

 ༻

-˚˖ ੭*⠤

❲“...❀

ෞ  ˚‧⁺.* ೃೀ ◌¨̮͚ *•  ◌ ≈ ✰ ₊ೆ ̖́‧♡ ೃ ♡  ❁ཻུ۪۪⸙͎ ੈ˚

✩ ｡ﾟ☆° ｡→ ༄ ‧₊˚ 「 」 ⇢ ๑ ◞♡° ⸙͎  ˀˀ ♡⃕   ◡̈ ꒰  ✗ ⌝ ⌞ ⌟ ↳ ↲ ۪۫❁ཻུ۪۪ ⎧ ୧ ⋅ ..⃗. ┊ೃ ╰► ꒱ ➛૪' ↴ ❱ ✿•˖* ℘

(͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)〔〕ミ↝↬⇄ﾐ〈〉↯ →｡✰彡 ⚘ ✎ ➥【】↰ ↯↧↡⇊❝❞❛❜❬❭꒰࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ 

❍｡๑⌦⌫ϟ ೃ°    ೀ° °•ೃ     ೃ༄  ッ ୭̥ ⌇ ━━ ੈ﹌🥀

〻〼 〾 ⅌ ⌸ ⌲ ⌯ ⌮ ␥ ␦ ⎴ ⎗ ⎕ ⎓ ⌑ ␥ㅤ

『』《》【】﹂﹃﹄ 

 ✃ 

 ✁ 

 ¦⇨⇒↯↰↧⇲⇱ 

 ↱↰↷↺↻↶↵↴↳➣➢≈﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌    ﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

.°୭̥ ❝ -` ✧ ´- ❝ .°୭̥ ─ ◌°.( ⁰̴̷̷ ˙̮ ⁰̴̷̷ ).°◌

╯ ❲ ❳ ∞ ‹ ∅ ┊ ➹ ੈ‧₊˚ ↱ ︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶•ೃ ๑

. . . .‿‿‿๑❀๑‿‿‿ . . . .

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏❍

❊ೃ➥ •๑•ิ.•ั๑¨̮ ❁ೃ

———————————————

ೃ ╲ ╱ Ꮠ‧⁺. ☈ ❁ ⸙͎۪۫ ⊰ .⃗ ₊˚✧ ୭̥*✧ ཻུ۪۪` ⃟  ❀ ፧  ੈ✩ރ፧ °↳ ׂׂ ⌧ × 

 ⚘݄⿴݃*₊˚ ෆ 

 ,.⸼۰ ۪۪۫۫ ❬“= ” ヾ،، ·₊̣̇. ❵

〔〕ミ↝↬⇄ﾐ〈〉↯ →｡✰彡 ⚘ ✎ ➥【】↰ ↯↧↡⇊❝❞❛❜❬❭꒰࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

ᝰ♡୧꒳ 

 - ̗̀ ❲ 「 ፝֯֟⋆⁺˖⸙̭❛◌*̥₊

❁『』➳ ❃ ✞ ❦ ❝ ❞ ˗ ˏˋ ˎˊ -┊ ↬ •° ✿ .•° ❀ ♡)

— ¦↻↺༼ ༽✦✧★❆❈➤➣➢❏ ☪ ೃ °➫┇┋ 

 ⸙ ✃ ❍ ✎✐彡.。 .:*・↳↰↱↲ ༄◦✦◦✰✯✵，________ ⌇❐⚘༉‧₊˚ ✧┃│█▓▒░░▒▓█▕ ◕ ➟ • ⊹ ✧ ─ ❜❛ ⇜ ⇝ ↭ ๛ ✯ ❖ → ← 

 ❝ ❞ ☓ ✓〘 〙✾ ✑ 🏷 ↶ ↷ ⎌ ❲ ❳ ⌦ ⌫ ❁ཻུ۪۪⸙͎ ₊˚.༄ ࿐*:･ﾟ ↯✰❜ೃ∗᯽ꕤ「」⇲⇱↵⚀⚁⚂⚃⚄⚅·➧︴﹝﹞ （ ）〔 〕 ₀ ₁ ₂ ₃ ₄ ₅ ₆ ₇ ₈ ₉ ﹀♢ ꒰ ꒱ ˑ 𖥸 ミ ❪ ❫ ➘ 。➯✧✧ ♯ இ  ╱ ╲ ﹋ ㅤ :･ﾟ ﾉ ː͡➘₊̣̇ ✧* ੈ 

 ꕀ 𖠳 ⌲ ⌂ ⁝ ༘ ⃗ ◌ ⊰ ⊱ ❒ ❑ ≡ - ̗̀ ̖́- ◠ ﹙ ೖ୭ ˒ ⁺ ೃ࿔　˚ ༘✧　ⴰ༢ ୧ ◌₊˚⋆ ┌ ┐└ ┘﹫ ✆ ➚ ➙ ◊ ～ ੈ ೀ ✰*ૢ✧ ཻུ۪۪⸙ ❬ ❍̥͙̊ ࿔ ˖۪⸙͎ ំஂ ︹ ⿻ ⬚ ヾ≈ ෞ ╰ ╯ ╭ ╮ ୭̥≈ ⁾ ꜜ ଽ ◜ ◝ ⇽ ⇾ ❏ ¨̮ ༊ ꧁꧂ ‧⁺ ✎ᝰ ﹆•:◦✩ ✼　｡ﾟ･　☆　° ｡ㅤ→ ༄ ‧₊˚ 「 」 ⇢ ๑ ◞♡° ⸙͎  ˀˀ ♡⃕   ◡̈ ꒰ ⌦ ✗ ⌜ ⌝ ⌞ ⌟ ↳ ❝ ❞ ➤ ↲ ۪۫❁ཻུ۪۪ ⎧ ୧ ⋅ ..⃗. ┊ೃ ╰► ꒱ ➛ ↴ ❱ ✿•˖* ℘ ﹋﹋ ❛ ╯ ❲ ❳ ∞ ‹ ∅ ┊ ➹   ੈ♡‧₊˚  ↱ ᵕ̈  ↷ ೃ ╲ ╱ 彡 ✥ ❥ Ꮠ ➜ ᎒ ☈ ❁ ⸙͎۪۫ ⊰ 「❀」 . .⃗  ༉‧₊˚✧   . ˚ ⚘ ˏ`୭̥*ೃ *ૢ✧ ཻུ۪۪⸙͎ ೫`   ⃟ ཹ։❀ ፧  ੈ✩‧₊  ૪'ރ፧ ࿐ °↳ ׂׂૢ༘  ۵`⌧ ≡ ⸙ ↺彡*ૢ✧;; ↳♡↣❁۪۪ ❥ ➼  

 ﹀ೃ* ᬄ ღ ༾    ꙰  ≈  - ̗̀ ゞ •| ⊱✿⊰ |• ╰─►⸙͎ — ≡

︶︶︶︶︶  ﹀ㅤ |. . ° • . .✩ ✼　｡ﾟ･　☆　° ｡ㅤ→ ༄ ‧₊˚ 「 」 ⇢ ๑ ◞♡° ⸙͎  ˀˀ ♡⃕   ◡̈ ꒰ ✗ ⌜ ⌝ ⌞ ⌟ ↳ ❝ ❞ ➤ ↲ ۪۫❁ཻུ۪۪ ⎧ ୧ ⋅ ..⃗. ೃ ╰► ꒱ ➛ ↴ ❱ ✿•˖* ℘  ❛ ╯ ❲ ❳ ∞ ‹ ∅ ➹   ੈ ‧₊˚  ↱ ᵕ̈  ↷  彡 ✥ ❥ Ꮠ ➜ ᎒ ☈ ❁ ⸙͎۪۫ ⊰ 「❀」 . .⃗  ༉‧₊˚✧   . ˚ ⚘ ˏ`୭̥*ೃ *ૢ✧ ཻུ۪۪⸙͎ ೫`   ⃟ ཹ։❀ ፧  ੈ✩‧₊  'ރ፧  ° ₍   ₎  ꜜ  ͙  ⋰ ⋱ ⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒ 🌙

↳ ׂׂૢ༘  ۵`⌧.⛇♯݊     - ̗̀ ː͡₊ˀ  〜   

 ᥴˀ⸼᮫͓ͯ̽❳；   . ⸙. ͎۪۫     Oº°‘¨       ፝֯֟    ت   →× — ⁶  ︸ 〞 ꜜ ͎    ╰   ╯    ╱╳╲   ⸗  =͟͟͞͞:   〣  ꞋꞌꞋꞌ  ҂  ˘˘˘  ⸝⸝  ￤ ꜥꜤ  ﹆ ꜛ ꜜ  ⸃⸃  ⸼  ꞈ  ⸗   ⭏  ▾   ꭛   ˖  ︴ ↻  ⇁  ﹏   ゛ ⇢  ﾞ    ⁾⁾  ⭞  ଽ  ୭̥  ➶  ↻  ✘  ┈  ₊̇°˟̫ː  ៸៸   ｡  ٬٬  ␣   ❪  ￣  ҩ  ✕      ͝    ۫ ۪۪۪۫    ”  ᵎ 〇  ,,  ㅤᅌ  ❫  ٠ِ٘ٓ  ℮  

   ❬ ❭  ❨  ❩  ⸂ ᵎ , ⃕    ➘  α  ❴   ⟨  ⟩  ︵─┊-˚̩̥̩̥)❫❪(،ﷻෆ∞ೃ❅≡〈〔＜ㄑ(ㄥ=三=＝《 ￣￣￣（丶／＼.˙˙．〝！？冫人｜!i＾iゝ〔〔〕〉 ⵢ◞⃕   ◡̈ ꒰   ⌜ ⌝ ⌞ ⌟  ཻུ۪۪۪۫  ⎧ ..⃗.  ꒱ Ꮠ ⊰ .⃗  ༉‧  ⃟     ﹫ ˚◦⸵ ˬ̽.  ̽ ⸽⋆≿⁞ꜜ₊̣﹏﹃﹄「」₊｡ﾟ➶︾  〃  ･﹢   ̼ ⌁⌔⌕ ⌮┊┈┄┆︱︳ ﹋﹉ ﹊﹍﹎‿︵  〄␣₎⁾₍⁽“˘︵︶⌫⌦ 

 ␍ ␎ ℭ ℮℻⊹ ◜ ◝ ◞ ◟ ◠ ◡ ˙˙˙   ̼   ͝  ︴╯ ❲ ❳ ∞ ‹ ∅ ┊ ➹  ੈ‧₊˚  ↱ ᵕ̈  ↷ ೃ ╲ ╱ Ꮠ ➜ ᎒ ☈ ❁ ⸙͎۪۫ ⊰

.⃗  ₊˚✧ ୭̥*✧ ཻུ۪۪`   ⃟   ❀ ፧  ੈ✩ރ፧  °↳  ׂׂ  ⌧ × 

   ⚘݄⿴݃*₊˚ ෆ  

 ,.⸼۰ ۪۪۫۫ ❬“= ” ヾ،،   ·₊̣̇. ❵

Estetica (titulos)

+°•′ - texto ;;

☇ tᥱxto❜ 

 ˀ

ꜥꜤ topic ❛.⌇

ෞ * ೃೀ ◌¨̮͚ *• ≈ ✰ ₊ೆ ̖́‧♡ ೃ ♡ ❁ཻུ۪۪₊ೆ ̖́‧♡✩ ﾟ☆° ｡「 ፝֯֟⋆⁺˖⸙̭❛◌*̥₊ 「 」 ⇢ ๑ ◞♡ ⸙͎ ˀˀ ♡⃕ ◡̈ ꒰ ✗ ⌜ ⌝ ↳ ↲ ۪۫❁ཻུ۪۪ ⎧ ୧ ⋅ ..⃗. ┊ೃ ╰► ꒱ ➛૪' ↴ ❱ * ℘▲꒰⇄‹3 ⇱ ↸ ↺ ⇲ » « ღ 『』〖〗【】∞ ╰╮❪ ❫┋『 』 ᘛᘚ ✩⎙⸙͎೫ˑ ˑ ˑ Ꜥ꧖ 「」『』↰ ↱ ↲ ↴↳ ♡୧꒳ - ̗̀ ❲ 「 ፝֯֟⋆⁺˖⸙̭❛◌*̥₊ 『』➳ ✞ ❦ ❝ ❞ ˗ ˏˋ ˎˊ -┊ ↬ ♡ — ¦↻↺༼ ༽✦✧★❆❈➤➣➢❏ ☪ ➫┇┋ :dizzy: ⸙ ✃ ✎✐彡*・↳↰↱↲ ༄◦✦◦✰✯✵，________ ⌇❐⚘༉‧₊˚ ✧┃│█▓▒░░▒▓█▕ ➟ • ⊹ ✧ ─ ❜❛ ⇜ ⇝ ↭ ๛ ✯ → ← ❝ ❞ ☓ ✓〘 〙✾ ✑ 🏷 ↶ ↷ ⎌ ❲ ❳ ⌦ ⌫ ❁ཻུ۪۪⸙͎ ₊˚.༄ ࿐*:･ﾟ ↯✰❜ೃ∗ 「」⇲⇱↵⚀⚁⚂⚃⚄⚅·➧︴﹝﹞ （ ）〔 〕 ₀ ₁ ₂ ₃ ₄ ₅ ₆ ₇ ₈ ₉ ﹀♢ ꒰ ꒱ ˑ ミ ❪ ❫ ➘ ➯✧✧ ♯ இ ╱ ╲ ﹋ ㅤ ﾉ ː͡➘₊̣̇ ✧* ੈ ꕀ ⌲ ⌂ ⁝ ༘ ⊰ ⊱ ❒ ❑ ≡ - ̗̀ ̖́- ◠ ﹙ ೖ୭ ˒ ⁺ ೃ࿔　˚ ༘✧　ⴰ༢ ୧ ◌₊˚⋆ ┌ ┐└ ┘﹫ ✆ ➚ ➙ ◊ ～ ੈ ೀ ✰*ૢ✧ ཻུ۪۪⸙ ❬ ❍̥͙̊ ࿔ ˖۪⸙͎ ំஂ ︹ ⿻ ⬚ ヾ≈ ෞ ╰ ╯ ╭ ╮ ୭̥≈ ⁾ ꜜ ଽ ◜ ◝ ⇽ ⇾ ❏ ¨̮ ༊ ꧁꧂ ‧⁺ ✎ ﹆•:◦✩ ✼　｡ﾟ･　☆　ㅤ→ ༄ ‧₊˚ 「 」 ⇢ ๑ ◞♡° ⸙͎ ˀˀ ♡⃕ ◡̈ ꒰ ⌦ ✗ ⌜ ⌝ ⌞ ⌟ ↳ ❝ ❞ ➤ ↲ ۪۫❁ཻུ۪۪ ⎧ ୧ ⋅ ..⃗. ┊ೃ ╰► ꒱ ➛ ↴ ❱ •˖* ℘ ﹋﹋ ❛ ╯ ❲ ❳ ∞ ‹ ∅ ┊ ➹ ੈ♡‧₊˚ ↱ ᵕ̈ ↷ ೃ ╲ ╱ 彡 ✥ ❥ Ꮠ ➜ ᎒ ☈ ⸙͎۪۫ ⊰ . .⃗ ༉‧₊˚✧ ⚘ ˏ`୭̥*ೃ *ૢ✧ ཻུ۪۪⸙͎ ೫` ཹ։ ፧ ੈ✩‧₊ ૪'ރ፧ ࿐ °↳ ׂׂૢ༘ ۵`⌧ ≡ ⸙ ↺彡*ૢ✧;; ↳♡↣❁۪۪ ❥ ➼ ﹀ೃ* ღ ༾ ꙰ ≈ - ̗̀ ゞ •| |• ╰─►⸙͎ — ≡

ᨒ ᰔ ◖ ࣪˖ 𝙨𝗈𝗳𝘁 ◠ 𝗄𝗂𝗍𝘁𝗲𝗻 ⭑ ࣪ 𐀔 ˖ •᷄ࡇ•᷅ α𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗅 ﹅ ฅ 𖤩 𝗆𝗒 ⊹ 𝗯𝗮𝗯𝘆 ᵎ ‹𝟹 ♥︎ 𖦹 ━ 𝗆𝗒 ૪ 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 ᦒ ა ˊᯅˋ ᰔ ⋒ 𝗽𝘂𝗽𝗉𝗒 ◠ ★ •᷄‎ࡇ•᷅ ฅ 🜸 ﹕𝘀𝘂𝗴𝗮𝗿 ! ‹𝟹 𝘀. 𖦹 ᘏ ᰍ 𝗆𝗒 ⊹ 𝗱𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗒 ⭑ ࣪ ᨈ 𖥻 ♥︎ ،، 𝗯𝘂𝗻𝗇𝗒 ˃ ⤙ ˂ ◗ ¡ 𝙮. 𖧧 ᨊ ꐑ ⭑ ɞ 𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗻𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌 ! 𖤩 ᰔ 𝗆𝗒 ૪ 𝘁𝗲𝗱𝖽𝗒 ¡ ✶ ‹ ↁ 𓄼 ฅ 𝖲. ◗ 🜸 ﹕𖥻 𝘀𝘄𝗲𝗲𝘁𝗍𝗂𝖾 𓂃 ‹𝟹 •᷄‎ࡇ•᷅ ᨈ ᘏ ⭑ 𝗵𖦹𝗻𝖾𝗒𓂃 ◞ 𖠵 𝙩𝙖𝙚𝕙𝕪 🏁  𖣯 . .⛓️ 𖦹𝙢𝙤𝕔𝕙𝕚 𖥻 ◍࣪  𓂃 𓐆𝙨𝙬𝙚𝖾𝗍 🥽 𓄧  ☕  𝗰𝗼𝕗𝕗𝕖  ⩩ . . 𓂅 ꞈ 𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙮 :: 𝗴𝗴𝕦𝕜 ˕ 𖥻

ᨒ ᰔ ◖ ࣪˖ 𝙨𝗈𝗳𝘁 ◠ 𝗄𝗂𝗍𝘁𝗲𝗻 ⭑ ࣪ 𐀔 ˖ •᷄ࡇ•᷅ α𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗅 ﹅ ฅ 𖤩 𝗆𝗒 ⊹ 𝗯𝗮𝗯𝘆 ᵎ ‹𝟹 ♥︎ 𖦹 ━ 𝗆𝗒 ૪ 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 ᦒ ა ˊᯅˋ ᰔ ⋒ 𝗽𝘂𝗽𝗉𝗒 ◠ ★ •᷄‎ࡇ•᷅ ฅ 🜸 ﹕𝘀𝘂𝗴𝗮𝗿 ! ‹𝟹 𝘀. 𖦹 ᘏ ᰍ 𝗆𝗒 ⊹ 𝗱𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗒 ⭑ ࣪ ᨈ 𖥻 ♥︎ ،، 𝗯𝘂𝗻𝗇𝗒 ˃ ⤙ ˂ ◗ ¡ 𝙮. 𖧧 ᨊ ꐑ ⭑ ɞ 𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗻𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌 ! 𖤩 ᰔ 𝗆𝗒 ૪ 𝘁𝗲𝗱𝖽𝗒 ¡ ✶ ‹ ↁ 𓄼 ฅ 𝖲. ◗ 🜸 ﹕𖥻 𝘀𝘄𝗲𝗲𝘁𝗍𝗂𝖾 𓂃 ‹𝟹 •᷄‎ࡇ•᷅ ᨈ ᘏ ⭑ 𝗵𖦹𝗻𝖾𝗒𓂃 ◞ 𖠵 𝙩𝙖𝙚𝕙𝕪 🏁  𖣯 . .⛓️ 𖦹𝙢𝙤𝕔𝕙𝕚 𖥻 ◍࣪  𓂃 𓐆𝙨𝙬𝙚𝖾𝗍 🥽 𓄧  ☕  𝗰𝗼𝕗𝕗𝕖  ⩩ . . 𓂅 ꞈ 𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙮 :: 𝗴𝗴𝕦𝕜 ˕ 𖥻

¡!🌻 [ 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾 ] 𖦹´ - 🖇️𖥻 [ 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾 ] - ☦︎༘🥢 ❝ [ 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾 ] ❞ - ﾐ☁︎ ❝ 🍓 - [ 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾 ] - 🍯⊰❞ 𝒏𝐚𝐦𝐞 - ៸៸🎐꒰꒱❜ 𝒏𝐚𝑚ℰ - ⩩☁️› 𝓎𝕠𝒖𝐫 𝙣ᗩ𝘮𝔢 - ⎙  » 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾 - 🍃˚ ༘  ❝ 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾 « 🍒 - |🀄| -՞ ɴᴀᴍᴇ ✹ ִֶָ ꐑꐑ ( ur name ) ⛸️𖦆 ꧇ 𖦆 🎀 ֺ ( ur name ) ▸ . 𖧧 ࣪ ★ . ꜝꜞ ᳝ ࣪ ( ur name ) ☁️ׂ ʬʬ 🥛 ˖ ࣪ ‹ ( ur name ) 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ ꗃ ⋆ ࣪ . ( ur name ) 🍳 . ‹𝟥 ᐢ..ᐢ ࣪˖ ( ur name ) ✹ 🐇 ִֶָ ࣪ 𑊢 ꜝꜞ ᳝ ࣪ % ( ur name ) › ࣪ ˖ ⌕ 𓈊 🍄 𒀭(𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞) 𖤩 🌱૮₍ ˃̵͈᷄ . ˂̵͈᷅ ₎ა 𖣯 ✹ 🌷(𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞) ꏍ ！

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

──・──・・✧ ・・──・──

୨・┈﹕✦﹕﹕✦﹕┈・୧

╴╴╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴⊹˚ ╴╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴

✿﹕ ︵︵✧₊︵︵ꕤ₊˚︵ ૮꒰˵• ᵜ •˵꒱ა ﹕ɞ

꒦ˎˊ˗ ︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶ ꒦꒷꒦₊˚

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

: ・ෆ・┈・┈・ᕱ⑅ᕱ・┈・┈・ෆ・ :

₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

✧:･ﾟ( ̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:̲̅]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅ ) ･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ( ̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:̲̅]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅ ) ･ﾟ✧

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

✦ ₊˚⌇ ₊˚꒷︶︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒦ ♡₊˚ ❜︵ ⋆｡˚ ⊹˚.⋆ ₊ ✧꒷₊˚

﹕‧₊˚⌒⌒﹕┊₊꒷︶︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒦‧₊˚⊹︰

﹒✿﹐◖🎬🍙﹒﹟[text]

﹢🥞🍳﹒ [text]！★﹏★

ʬ❀﹔🍓🍰 ﹒ [text] ᶻᶻz

⇅ ♪﹒🧩🌼﹑[text]ꜝꜝ✩﹒

૮₍ ´• ˕ •` ₎ა

            :ᕱ⠀⑅⠀𓂃⠀ヾ⠀✦⠀𓄼⠀২⠀୨⠀⋆⠀𓂅⠀

⬪⠀ꕤ⠀ՙ⠀╰╮⠀♡̶⠀৲⠀ৎ⠀⬪˙ 𓈒⠀⌕⠀⊹

࿔⠀៸⠀﹆⠀﹟⠀𓏲⠀@⠀+⠀𖧧⠀،⠀⠀ഒ

﹅⠀ ִֶָ ⠀◐⠀≀⠀⁺⠀˒⠀७⠀٫⠀frᨒ⠀⸼⠀જ⠀◞

.

ᐢ..ᐢ⠀ᘒ⠀∞⠀𖦹⠀⌗⠀★⠀♥︎⠀⭒⠀ʚ⠀𓍢⠀﹫⠀ᖘ⠀﹠⠀੭⠀◪⠀❪❫⠀𓏲⠀❪❫⠀𑁯໋⠀I！

⊹  ⿻   ७  ᘏ⑅ᘏ  ٫  ⌕  ˇ ✧  ଡ ﹠ ｡  ،  ？ 𖤐  ⌗  % ！ ᴖ ᴈ ᴖ   >ヮ<   ᕱ ⑅ ᕱ   𓏲 i ഒ  ⧉  ✰   ◡̈  ⋆  ٠  

˃̵ᴗ˂̵  ─  ৎ୭  𖧧  ⊹ ‹3  ꒷꒦   ₍ᐢ‥ᐢ₎  𖦹   ᭢   𓂅   •᷄ࡇ•᷅   ५  ⍝ ˘ ᵜ ˘ ⍝   ∿  ♡  ఇ  ‹𝟹  ໑  ૮⍝• ᴥ •⍝ა  ❤︎  ৫

ᵔᴗᵔ  ៸៸   ˘ᵕ˘ ପ ‹   ·   ≀ ૮₍ • ᴥ • ₎ა  ꕤ  #  ๑・ ꈊ ⍝ ˒  ・  ⍈  ∞  ꞈ⠀𓈒   ♡̶  𓂃  𝆯 𓍯  𓏲  𔓘  ᭡ 𓂅  ꊥꊥ  ᯽  ◷  ﹆  ·  જ  ◐  ﹅   ᵕ̈   ♡̷̷  ५   ☺︎  ☹︎  ⸒   ⎙  ›   ㅎㅅㅎ  ₍ᐢᕱ⠀⑅⠀𓂃⠀ヾ⠀✦⠀𓄼⠀২⠀୨⠀⋆⠀𓂅⠀

⬪⠀ꕤ⠀ՙ⠀╰╮⠀♡̶⠀৲⠀ৎ⠀⬪˙ 𓈒⠀⌕⠀⊹

࿔⠀៸⠀﹆⠀﹟⠀𓏲⠀@⠀+⠀𖧧⠀،⠀⠀ഒ

﹅⠀ ִֶָ ⠀◐⠀≀⠀⁺⠀˒⠀७⠀٫⠀frᨒ⠀⸼⠀જ⠀◞

ᐢ..ᐢ⠀ᘒ⠀∞⠀𖦹⠀⌗⠀★⠀♥︎⠀⭒⠀ʚ⠀𓍢⠀﹫⠀ᖘ⠀﹠⠀੭⠀◪⠀❪❫⠀𓏲⠀❪❫⠀𑁯໋⠀I！

⊹  ⿻   ७  ᘏ⑅ᘏ  ٫  ⌕  ˇ ✧  ଡ ﹠ ｡  ،  ？ 𖤐  ⌗  % ！ ᴖ ᴈ ᴖ   >ヮ<   ᕱ ⑅ ᕱ   𓏲 i ഒ  ⧉  ✰   ◡̈  ⋆  ٠  

˃̵ᴗ˂̵  ─  ৎ୭  𖧧  ⊹ ‹3  ꒷꒦   ₍ᐢ‥ᐢ₎  𖦹   ᭢   𓂅   •᷄ࡇ•᷅   ५  ⍝ ˘ ᵜ ˘ ⍝   ∿  ♡  ఇ  ‹𝟹  ໑  ૮⍝• ᴥ •⍝ა  ❤︎  ৫

ᕱ⠀⑅⠀𓂃⠀ヾ⠀✦⠀𓄼⠀২⠀୨⠀⋆⠀𓂅⠀

⬪⠀ꕤ⠀ՙ⠀╰╮⠀♡̶⠀৲⠀ৎ⠀⬪˙ 𓈒⠀⌕⠀⊹

࿔⠀៸⠀﹆⠀﹟⠀𓏲⠀@⠀+⠀𖧧⠀،⠀⠀ഒ

﹅⠀ ִֶָ ⠀◐⠀≀⠀⁺⠀˒⠀७⠀٫⠀frᨒ⠀⸼⠀જ⠀◞

ᐢ..ᐢ⠀ᘒ⠀∞⠀𖦹⠀⌗⠀★⠀♥︎⠀⭒⠀ʚ⠀𓍢⠀﹫⠀ᖘ⠀﹠⠀੭⠀◪⠀❪❫⠀𓏲⠀❪❫⠀𑁯໋⠀I！

⊹  ⿻   ७  ᘏ⑅ᘏ  ٫  ⌕  ˇ ✧  ଡ ﹠ ｡  ،  ？ 𖤐  ⌗  % ！ ᴖ ᴈ ᴖ   >ヮ<   ᕱ ⑅ ᕱ   𓏲 i ഒ  ⧉  ✰   ◡̈  ⋆  ٠  

˃̵ᴗ˂̵  ─  ৎ୭  𖧧  ⊹ ‹3  ꒷꒦   ₍ᐢ‥ᐢ₎  𖦹   ᭢   𓂅   •᷄ࡇ•᷅   ५  ⍝ ˘ ᵜ ˘ ⍝   ∿  ♡  ఇ  ‹𝟹  ໑  ૮⍝• ᴥ •⍝ა  ❤︎  ৫

ᵔᴗᵔ  ៸៸   ˘ᵕ˘ ପ ‹   ·   ≀ ૮₍ • ᴥ • ₎ა  ꕤ  #  ๑・ ꈊ ⍝ ˒  ・  ⍈  ∞  ꞈ⠀𓈒   ♡̶  𓂃  𝆯 𓍯  𓏲  𔓘  ᭡ 𓂅  ꊥꊥ  ᯽  ◷  ﹆  ·  જ  ◐  ﹅   ᵕ̈   ♡̷̷  ५   ☺︎  ☹︎  ⸒   ⎙  ›   ㅎㅅㅎ  ₍ᐢʔ 𓏲·˚🦴🧠 𖦆 ͙ ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ⑅₎ ⊹ 𖡼 ָ࣪ ˖ 𓏲࣪ 🥛🩰 𓄹𓈒  ˖ ࣪ ꒷ ꐑꐑ  !  ‣ 𒀭 ˓  𖣠 ، 🌷🐰🦷˖  ▹ . › 𖦹 ! ✦ ˖  ٠ 🛁  ›  ✸  🧠🥛˖ ۫ ˖ ࣪ 𒀭◞ ฅ ࣪ ˖ 🐰🛁🩰 ∘  ،  🐰🌷🚎  ࣪  .   ·  𖣠 ˖ 𖥨៹ ─╌ ˖ ࣪ ٬  🎀💭 ࣪  . `  ✸  ⌁ ▹ 🧠🦷🥛 ꞌꞋꞌ ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ ˖ ࣪⭑ ❙❘❙❚❙❘❙❙❚❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘❙❙❚❙❘❙❙❙❚ 〃𒄬 🜲  ❜  ࣪🔌 ִֶָ  ،،̲ ✶ 📰  ◗. ` 🏴 ⌁ ⚔  𖥔 🏳 ࣪  ˖ ⁽⁾｡i ni ni ni

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚    ๋࣭ ⭑ ⸱៰ ͘ ࣭⸰ 𖥔 ͙ࣳ   𓂃  ࣪៙͘⸳⭑ࣶࣸ  ଘ ֺ✦⸼࣪⸳ 𓂃

❛❛♡ ࣭͘ ⭑ุ  𝁼  ✷  𝅄  ✦  ⸱࣭   𓄹  ⭑   ֩  ⸳  𝁼   ★  ͘ ⴰ  ⸰ֺ⭑« ✇   ุ๋ ⸱ 𓄰 ⩩ ៰࣪ ࣭ ﹟🔌🕋 ꒱⸰ֺ ࣭⭑𓄹 ⸒࣪ ▍▎█▍▎▌▍▎█▌▎ █▎▌▏ 𓄰﹟૰ ࣶ 𝃛 𖥔 ֙

𝅄 ャﾞ𒀭𖤩 ˖˚ 𖠿 ‣  ִֶָ  ، 𖤘 𖠗  ֶָ 🧠 ʾʾ  ۫  ♥︎.⭒ ۫   ׅ 🎀  𝅄  𓈈 𐑺ִ

𖥻𝆬 🏩❕ 𝅄᠂ ⭒ ֢  ꜥ 🥛 ⋅ 🧠  ⩇ ʿ  𓄹  𖠗 🎀 ۫  𔓘 𝗈︩︪

. ૮(ˊ ᵔ ˋ)ა .  𖣯 ⋆   ˖ ࣪ ! 𓈈𓂃⬫ ׂ ׅ 🎂 𓂃 ૮₍ ៸៸ ᵜ ก ₎ა ֶָ  ׁ  ❁̶ (●´⌓`●) ᘒ  ˖˙‹𝟯 ▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀

⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝ ƚ

૮₍⇀‸↼‶₎ა   ૮₍꜆꜄ ˃ ³ ˂ ₎ა  ꒰ ૮₍ ⑅ ᐢ..ᐢ   ₎ა ꒱

𓈒 ࣪૮₍ ๑ • ᵜ ก ๑ ₎ა࣪ 𓈒    ⊹ヾ(◍・ꈊ・◍)ﾉ

𓈒 ૮₍ ´• ˕ •` ₎ა 𓈒 ⊹      ۫ 🐁 ִֶָ ࣪𓂅: ૮ ˊ͈ . ˋ͈ ა

(๑•́ ᎔ ก̀๑)   ˃̵ᴗ˂̵   ૮₍ ´ ꒳ `₎ა   ૮ ˊ͈ . ˋ͈ ა ૮₍ ˃̵ࡇ˂̵ ₎ა  ૮꒰˵• ﻌ •˵꒱ა  ꒰ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ꒱   ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎

૮ / / / ⍝ა    ₍ᵔ·͈༝·͈ᵔ₎   ᐢ. ֑ .ᐢ   ૮ ・ﻌ・ა   (๑´`๑)♡

૮₍｡ •᎔• ｡₎ა   ꒰ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ꒱   ִֶָ ࣪𓂅: ૮₍´˶• . • ⑅ ₎ა

૮ • ﻌ - ა⁩   ₍ᐡ｡っ ̫-｡ᐡ₎   ૮⍝• ᴥ •⍝ა

૮₍ ˶• ˔ ต ₎ა  ૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა  ૮₍ ´˶• ᴥ •˶` ₎ა

૮₍ ⑅ • ᵜ • ⑅ ₎ა  ૮₍｡´ᴖ ˔ ᴖ`｡₎ა  ૮₍๑•ˑก₎ა

૮₍ ´• ˕ •` ₎ა  ૮₍ ˵ • ꤮ ก ˵ ₎︎ა  (◍•ᴗ•◍)

૮₍ 𝁽ܫ𝁽 ₎ა  ૮ – ﻌ–ა   ૮₍ • ᴥ • ₎ა  ( ◠·◠)ა

૮₍´｡ᵔ ꈊ ᵔ｡`₎ა  ૮₍ • ᴥ • ₎ა  ₍ᵔ•ᴗ•ᵔ₎

( ⪖⩊⪕ ) ｡◕‿◕｡ 。.:☆:･'(⌒―⌒)))

(⌒▽⌒)☆ (´｡• ⩊ •｡`) (o＾▽＾o)

(★w★)/ (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.) (-‿-)

ʘ‿ʘ (✷‿✷) (◔‿◔)

(◕ᴗ◕✿) (ʘᴗʘ✿) (•ᴗ•)

( ╹▽╹ ) (≧▽≦) (☆▽☆)

(>___<) (｡>^<) ˃ᴗ˂ (＞. O)

(>M<) (≧3≦) (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

(≡^∇^≡) (≧∇≦)/ (☆^O^☆)

^⩌^* ˃ - ˂ ♡( ◡‿◡ ) (# >o<)

ャ ˖  ! 𑁍 ୨ ࣪  ˓ 🥛 ★ ﹆ׂׂ ˖ ◗    ᥫ᭡   ˖ ࣪ ‹ 𖥔 ࣪ ˖ ぅ  ་    ᳝   ◝     𖥻 ぅ.   ֺ  ָ   ֙⋆    ་    ᳝   ◝     𖥻   ̨𖥔 ִ ་  ، ˖ ࣪◞ せ ルゲ ⚠︎ ☻ ☺︎︎ ☹︎   ▹  𖥔 ࣪  📼  # ⋆ ⨾ ⊹ ǂ  ⵓ ꒷꒦ ぬ ָ࣪ を あ  ✶ ໑ 𓄼 › ✶ ♥︎  ❛ ˖࣪ 𓄹࣪ 𖠌  ✶ ָ࣪  ˖ Ꮺ ≛ ، .𖤩˖࣪ ✦ ₊˚.◗ 𓏲 ࣪₊ 𓍼˖ ᰍ ` ▸  ៸៸ 🐭 . ★﹟や ˖⁩𖦹︎ 𓄹᮫ֺ໋  ៹

˖ ۫♡ ♥︎ (๑•̀ᗢ•́๑) ❛˖ 🔪،͟، 𓂅𓄹࣪ ،، 𒀭 ʿʿ ⋆ ᳝ ֺ を ˎˊ ˗🎱 ✶་  Ꮺָ࣪ ‣ 𖥨 𖤣𖥧 𓂃𑁍 ▸ ⋆ ⭒𓁿 𓆰 ⋆ ꉂ   ՙ ،̲،̲    ٪  𓂅 𖠌 𓄹 ࣪ ˖ ⸼ 𖦹 ᪥ ❁ ˖࣪ ∿ 𐀔 𓇚 𔘓 𐇵 𖡼 ଘ 𐀔 ᵎᵎ ˖ ࣪ ،̲،̲ ⊹  ִֶָ 𖧷 ᖚ ✦  𓅦 ៹ ꒺  ┈  ❟ ꥟ ❟ ❛❛ ❜❜ ،، 📃 ✽ ،،̲ ‹› ✱ ๑ˎˊ˗ 𖧧 ❛ં ⩩ ⌔ 𖣠 𖥕﹫ ✯ ✪ ⊹ ₊ ࣪𓏲 ͎🥛₊˚✧ ᝰ 𖤐 ꒰ % 🧂 ✦ ◗𓍼 ˖⋆⑅˚₊ 𓍯 ꗃ  ⌗ 🏷️ ·  *  ʕ•̫͡•ʔ  ★ᰍ  ҂  ꒦꒷꒦ ☁︎ ꙳໋͙ な! ☆★

🛒ヤ ✶ 🔩⌗ ! ʾ ૪ ࣪˖ オ ˖˙ ៹  ╲˚ׂᨘ ‣ 𖡄  ،،̲ ‹3 冬 ㆆ •

🥛🧂🥋⛸️🏐🎹🎳🕌📡📹🛠️🧻🔪⚙️🔩⛏️🧴🛁🚿🏷️📃🔗📋📰🔒🔓🃏🏳️🏁🎌📼🎞️🎬🎮🛹🦴☕🎓🦨🐩🕸️🎱🕹️🖲️🎙️🔬🔭

﹫♥︎mini symbols pack﹟

⌕ 𖦥 𓂅 ꗃ  ⿻ ⬪ 𖦹 🂱 ˒ 𖥦 𓎆

੭ ꞈ ❍ ✧﹟❐ ⎗ 𓊘 ⍝ 𖤘

∿ ∞ ७ 〄 ◐ ★︎ ๑  ִֶָ  ⋄ ⍉

𖧧 ᝬ 𓂃 𓏲 ໑ 𔘓 ➱ ⊹ ⭑꩜

っ 𐇯 𓈈 ᔾ  ⩩ 𓍢 ҂ ⌗ ﹏ 𖣰

𖥻 𓍯 ☼𝆬   𐚱 ◠ 𖣦 ៸៸ ✦ ৎ

ζ 𖣆 ᘎ 仌 ≀ 𓈒𓏸 𓄼 ৎ୭ ५ ◌

१ ㄷ 𝅓 困 ១ ꒟ ᪤╰╮𓇢 ャ

Hi it

𓆪 ▦ 𓍼 ⟠ 𓇣 ߸ ⎓ ⌯ ⪧ ␥ ∩

𖠌 𖣂 𖡡 𖥨 ᭡ ▭ ༤ ᨓ 𖠵 ｷ

◖ 𖠳 𖣂 ꧔ 𑁯 𖤣𖥧 ᨒ 𐂴 ৫ ⧉

ꕤ 〜 ⌒ ៚ ᘒ ᦔ ೨ ﹅ 🜸

ꏍ ᨌ ﹌ 𔗫﹫𝆹𝅥 ༴⥤𖤠 ༅ ⟆ ༢

𓃠 𓃺 ଓ ↷ ୨୧ ⌑ ︙ ເ ᚹ

𐛻 𐇲 𔕚 𖣖 ﹇ ▥ 〨 ❛ ᠅ 〃

𖣻 ᘏ ⑅ 𖣓 ⸼ 𖡂 🂦 𓎆 𖤘 𔕔 𓋲 ꒷

𖤐 ଘ ？𔓘 ⤓ 𖠚̸ 𖧡 ◍̶ ꒻ ∗ ﹠

❥ ⎙ ⸙ ✎ 𖧷 જ ꕀ

キラ ❥ ℋ ꩜ 𖦹 𐇵 ☁︎ ャ ©️

ʿ ،، ٬٬ ៸៸ › ‹‹ ᎓ ：˖ ⠀ ݁ . ⠀  ◖

⨟   ✦ ﹫ ｡。 ₊ ≀⌇⸾ ﹔ ݁ 𖦆

𑁍  ؛  ៸ ▸  𖥦 ꞋꞌꞋꞌ ︐ ╰ ╯

‣  ִֶ  ٪ % ᵎᵎ   ▀▄ ▀▄▀▄ ▀  𓏲࣪ ˚.꒷

𖤐⤸₊˚ ִֶָ ❜ 𑁍 ࣪˖ 𓂃 . ࣪ ˖ ∿ 𑁍 ˓

⊹ ָ࣪ ˓˓ ˒˒ ، ˖ ࣪𑁍 ˖ ՚༹ ˙˖ 𖥔 ،،̲ ﹕ ،  ݃˓...

𖠵 ❟ ⊹ ⵢ 𓄹𓈒 ⨾ ⌁ ᯽ ◜ ◞ 𑁍 ࣪˖

♡ ≀ ٬٬ 𖥔 𔘓 𐀔 ╱ ✦ 𓍼  ִֶָ

𖨂 ᪥ ✧ 𓏲࣪ essa꒦﹫ :¨·.·¨: ¸ ˖ ֶ ִָ ٬ֶ

. ִָ ˑ ⊹ ٬ ✦ · 𒀭   ♡︎   ♥︎   𖡩   ˀ  

ᵎ   ✦   𔒌   ʾ   ໑   ▸    ִֶָ   𖥔   ࣪   ˖

.   𓄹   𓈒   𓍢   𐇵   ﹆   ☼   𓏲   ✿  

˖   𖥻   𓎆   ⏉   ੭   ꒳​   。   ❤︎   𖦹  

ଘ   ⤹   ꩜   ៹    ִֶָ    ᨳ   ⊹   𖧵   ⩩  

៹   𖤣     ࡘ   ޱ   ៳   Ꞌ   ꞌ   ◿   ◸  

ㅤ࿆   ␦   𓂆   𓂇   𓂈   𓂉   𓂀   𓂐  

𓆉   𓅂 𖤣𖥧𖡼 𓎩𓌉 𖠚❛ ꪶ  𓏲࣪ ❁ 𓂃٠     ᭡    ꕤ   𓈀   っ  𓊘  𓄹    ⦂    ᘏ   𔘓   𓈈   𓂃   𖠿    ཿ    ࿀   ᎔   ᎓     ᜴   ᜵   ᝪ   ៚  ៳   ᠀   ᠉    ᤳ    ᨓ    ᭝   ᱺ   ᳃    ◯   ◦  ◡  ◠   ⋆    ۬۟۬     ⑅    ꠴   ੭   જ   ꞈ    ⸝    ˴   ›    ≡    ࿔   ／   ଓ    ઇ   ઉ   ᧙   ᥐ   ៸   ૪   ೨   ␥   ■   ♧   ◇   ◈   ﹫   ꧔   ੭   જꞈ        ⸝      ≡    ࿔    ଓ    ઇ        ᧙    ᥐ   ៸   ໒    ː    ՞   ᵎ    ࿂  ﹆  ᰍ   ִ𖧧   𖤠   𓄹   𓈀   𖦥   ﹅   ⸯⸯ   ンㅤꞋꞌꞋꞌ   ⛸ㅤィ   %   𓂃  ㇁  ◒   ！  ンㅤ╮⟆      ﹏   ！  𝅓   𓂃𓈒   ﹑  ζ  ㅤ﹏   ⨾ㅤ 𓈈ㅤ❨   ᨓ   ⎓   °   ？  𓈒ㅤ▱   𓂅   𓂃   ⨾   ᘒ   ◟  ζ   𓍢   ◖   ᨓ   𓄹ㅤ𓏲   ╰╮   ⸯⸯ    ꞋꞌꞋꞌ   ﹪  ໑  ・ꗃ    ᘒㅤꞈ    キ   "   𓄹   ✦  ⠂   ˒  ‹𝟹   ꜝꜝ   ʚ   ⌕    ׅ ࣪𓏲ּ ֶָ

ᕱ⠀⑅⠀𓂃⠀ヾ⠀✦⠀𓄼⠀২⠀୨⠀⋆⠀𓂅⠀

⬪⠀ꕤ⠀ՙ⠀╰╮⠀♡̶⠀৲⠀ৎ⠀⬪˙ 𓈒⠀⌕⠀⊹

            :ᕱ⠀⑅⠀𓂃⠀ヾ⠀✦⠀𓄼⠀২⠀୨⠀⋆⠀𓂅⠀

⬪⠀ꕤ⠀ՙ⠀╰╮⠀♡̶⠀৲⠀ৎ⠀⬪˙ 𓈒⠀⌕⠀⊹

࿔⠀៸⠀﹆⠀﹟⠀𓏲⠀@⠀+⠀𖧧⠀،⠀⠀ഒ

﹅⠀ ִֶָ ⠀◐⠀≀⠀⁺⠀˒⠀७⠀٫⠀frᨒ⠀⸼⠀જ⠀◞

.

ᐢ..ᐢ⠀ᘒ⠀∞⠀𖦹⠀⌗⠀★⠀♥︎⠀⭒⠀ʚ⠀𓍢⠀﹫⠀ᖘ⠀﹠⠀੭⠀◪⠀❪❫⠀𓏲⠀❪❫⠀𑁯໋⠀I！

⊹  ⿻   ७  ᘏ⑅ᘏ  ٫  ⌕  ˇ ✧  ଡ ﹠ ｡  ،  ？ 𖤐  ⌗  % ！ ᴖ ᴈ ᴖ   >ヮ<   ᕱ ⑅ ᕱ   𓏲 i ഒ  ⧉  ✰   ◡̈  ⋆  ٠  

˃̵ᴗ˂̵  ─  ৎ୭  𖧧  ⊹ ‹3  ꒷꒦   ₍ᐢ‥ᐢ₎  𖦹   ᭢   𓂅   •᷄ࡇ•᷅   ५  ⍝ ˘ ᵜ ˘ ⍝   ∿  ♡  ఇ  ‹𝟹  ໑  ૮⍝• ᴥ •⍝ა  ❤︎  ৫

ᵔᴗᵔ  ៸៸   ˘ᵕ˘ ପ ‹   ·   ≀ ૮₍ • ᴥ • ₎ა  ꕤ  #  ๑・ ꈊ ⍝ ˒  ・  ⍈  ∞  ꞈ⠀𓈒   ♡̶  𓂃  𝆯 𓍯  𓏲  𔓘  ᭡ 𓂅  ꊥꊥ  ᯽  ◷  ﹆  ·  જ  ◐  ﹅   ᵕ̈   ♡̷̷  ५   ☺︎  ☹︎  ⸒   ⎙  ›   ㅎㅅㅎ  ₍ᐢᕱ⠀⑅⠀𓂃⠀ヾ⠀✦⠀𓄼⠀২⠀୨⠀⋆⠀𓂅⠀

⬪⠀ꕤ⠀ՙ⠀╰╮⠀♡̶⠀৲⠀ৎ⠀⬪˙ 𓈒⠀⌕⠀⊹

࿔⠀៸⠀﹆⠀﹟⠀𓏲⠀@⠀+⠀𖧧⠀،⠀⠀ഒ

﹅⠀ ִֶָ ⠀◐⠀≀⠀⁺⠀˒⠀७⠀٫⠀frᨒ⠀⸼⠀જ⠀◞

ᐢ..ᐢ⠀ᘒ⠀∞⠀𖦹⠀⌗⠀★⠀♥︎⠀⭒⠀ʚ⠀𓍢⠀﹫⠀ᖘ⠀﹠⠀੭⠀◪⠀❪❫⠀𓏲⠀❪❫⠀𑁯໋⠀I！

⊹  ⿻   ७  ᘏ⑅ᘏ  ٫  ⌕  ˇ ✧  ଡ ﹠ ｡  ،  ？ 𖤐  ⌗  % ！ ᴖ ᴈ ᴖ   >ヮ<   ᕱ ⑅ ᕱ   𓏲 i ഒ  ⧉  ✰   ◡̈  ⋆  ٠  

˃̵ᴗ˂̵  ─  ৎ୭  𖧧  ⊹ ‹3  ꒷꒦   ₍ᐢ‥ᐢ₎  𖦹   ᭢   𓂅   •᷄ࡇ•᷅   ५  ⍝ ˘ ᵜ ˘ ⍝   ∿  ♡  ఇ  ‹𝟹  ໑  ૮⍝• ᴥ •⍝ა  ❤︎  ৫

ᕱ⠀⑅⠀𓂃⠀ヾ⠀✦⠀𓄼⠀২⠀୨⠀⋆⠀𓂅⠀

⬪⠀ꕤ⠀ՙ⠀╰╮⠀♡̶⠀৲⠀ৎ⠀⬪˙ 𓈒⠀⌕⠀⊹

࿔⠀៸⠀﹆⠀﹟⠀𓏲⠀@⠀+⠀𖧧⠀،⠀⠀ഒ

﹅⠀ ִֶָ ⠀◐⠀≀⠀⁺⠀˒⠀७⠀٫⠀frᨒ⠀⸼⠀જ⠀◞

ᐢ..ᐢ⠀ᘒ⠀∞⠀𖦹⠀⌗⠀★⠀♥︎⠀⭒⠀ʚ⠀𓍢⠀﹫⠀ᖘ⠀﹠⠀੭⠀◪⠀❪❫⠀𓏲⠀❪❫⠀𑁯໋⠀I！

⊹  ⿻   ७  ᘏ⑅ᘏ  ٫  ⌕  ˇ ✧  ଡ ﹠ ｡  ،  ？ 𖤐  ⌗  % ！ ᴖ ᴈ ᴖ   >ヮ<   ᕱ ⑅ ᕱ   𓏲 i ഒ  ⧉  ✰   ◡̈  ⋆  ٠  

˃̵ᴗ˂̵  ─  ৎ୭  𖧧  ⊹ ‹3  ꒷꒦   ₍ᐢ‥ᐢ₎  𖦹   ᭢   𓂅   •᷄ࡇ•᷅   ५  ⍝ ˘ ᵜ ˘ ⍝   ∿  ♡  ఇ  ‹𝟹  ໑  ૮⍝• ᴥ •⍝ა  ❤︎  ৫

ᵔᴗᵔ  ៸៸   ˘ᵕ˘ ପ ‹   ·   ≀ ૮₍ • ᴥ • ₎ა  ꕤ  #  ๑・ ꈊ ⍝ ˒  ・  ⍈  ∞  ꞈ⠀𓈒   ♡̶  𓂃  𝆯 𓍯  𓏲  𔓘  ᭡ 𓂅  ꊥꊥ  ᯽  ◷  ﹆  ·  જ  ◐  ﹅   ᵕ̈   ♡̷̷  ५   ☺︎  ☹︎  ⸒   ⎙  ›   ㅎㅅㅎ  ₍ᐢʔ 𓏲·˚🦴🧠 𖦆 ͙ ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ⑅₎ ⊹ 𖡼 ָ࣪ ˖ 𓏲࣪ 🥛🩰 𓄹𓈒  ˖ ࣪ ꒷ ꐑꐑ  !  ‣ 𒀭 ˓  𖣠 ، 🌷🐰🦷˖  ▹ . › 𖦹 ! ✦ ˖  ٠ 🛁  ›  ✸  🧠🥛˖ ۫ ˖ ࣪ 𒀭◞ ฅ ࣪ ˖ 🐰🛁🩰 ∘  ،  🐰🌷🚎  ࣪  .   ·  𖣠 ˖ 𖥨៹ ─╌ ˖ ࣪ ٬  🎀💭 ࣪  . `  ✸  ⌁ ▹ 🧠🦷🥛 ꞌꞋꞌ ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ ˖ ࣪⭑ ❙❘❙❚❙❘❙❙❚❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘❙❙❚❙❘❙❙❙❚ 〃𒄬 🜲  ❜  ࣪🔌 ִֶָ  ،،̲ ✶ 📰  ◗. ` 🏴 ⌁ ⚔  𖥔 🏳 ࣪  ˖ ⁽⁾｡i ni ni ni

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚    ๋࣭ ⭑ ⸱៰ ͘ ࣭⸰ 𖥔 ͙ࣳ   𓂃  ࣪៙͘⸳⭑ࣶࣸ  ଘ ֺ✦⸼࣪⸳ 𓂃

❛❛♡ ࣭͘ ⭑ุ  𝁼  ✷  𝅄  ✦  ⸱࣭   𓄹  ⭑   ֩  ⸳  𝁼   ★  ͘ ⴰ  ⸰ֺ⭑« ✇   ุ๋ ⸱ 𓄰 ⩩ ៰࣪ ࣭ ﹟🔌🕋 ꒱⸰ֺ ࣭⭑𓄹 ⸒࣪ ▍▎█▍▎▌▍▎█▌▎ █▎▌▏ 𓄰﹟૰ ࣶ 𝃛 𖥔 ֙

𝅄 ャﾞ𒀭𖤩 ˖˚ 𖠿 ‣  ִֶָ  ، 𖤘 𖠗  ֶָ 🧠 ʾʾ  ۫  ♥︎.⭒ ۫   ׅ 🎀  𝅄  𓈈 𐑺ִ

𖥻𝆬 🏩❕ 𝅄᠂ ⭒ ֢  ꜥ 🥛 ⋅ 🧠  ⩇ ʿ  𓄹  𖠗 🎀 ۫  𔓘 𝗈︩︪

. ૮(ˊ ᵔ ˋ)ა .  𖣯 ⋆   ˖ ࣪ ! 𓈈𓂃⬫ ׂ ׅ 🎂 𓂃 ૮₍ ៸៸ ᵜ ก ₎ა ֶָ  ׁ  ❁̶ (●´⌓`●) ᘒ  ˖˙‹𝟯 ▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀

⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝ ƚ

૮₍⇀‸↼‶₎ა   ૮₍꜆꜄ ˃ ³ ˂ ₎ა  ꒰ ૮₍ ⑅ ᐢ..ᐢ   ₎ა ꒱

𓈒 ࣪૮₍ ๑ • ᵜ ก ๑ ₎ა࣪ 𓈒    ⊹ヾ(◍・ꈊ・◍)ﾉ

𓈒 ૮₍ ´• ˕ •` ₎ა 𓈒 ⊹      ۫ 🐁 ִֶָ ࣪𓂅: ૮ ˊ͈ . ˋ͈ ა

(๑•́ ᎔ ก̀๑)   ˃̵ᴗ˂̵   ૮₍ ´ ꒳ `₎ა   ૮ ˊ͈ . ˋ͈ ა ૮₍ ˃̵ࡇ˂̵ ₎ა  ૮꒰˵• ﻌ •˵꒱ა  ꒰ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ꒱   ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎

૮ / / / ⍝ა    ₍ᵔ·͈༝·͈ᵔ₎   ᐢ. ֑ .ᐢ   ૮ ・ﻌ・ა   (๑´`๑)♡

૮₍｡ •᎔• ｡₎ა   ꒰ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ꒱   ִֶָ ࣪𓂅: ૮₍´˶• . • ⑅ ₎ა

૮ • ﻌ - ა⁩   ₍ᐡ｡っ ̫-｡ᐡ₎   ૮⍝• ᴥ •⍝ა

૮₍ ˶• ˔ ต ₎ა  ૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა  ૮₍ ´˶• ᴥ •˶` ₎ა

૮₍ ⑅ • ᵜ • ⑅ ₎ა  ૮₍｡´ᴖ ˔ ᴖ`｡₎ა  ૮₍๑•ˑก₎ა

૮₍ ´• ˕ •` ₎ა  ૮₍ ˵ • ꤮ ก ˵ ₎︎ა  (◍•ᴗ•◍)

૮₍ 𝁽ܫ𝁽 ₎ა  ૮ – ﻌ–ა   ૮₍ • ᴥ • ₎ა  ( ◠·◠)ა

૮₍´｡ᵔ ꈊ ᵔ｡`₎ა  ૮₍ • ᴥ • ₎ა  ₍ᵔ•ᴗ•ᵔ₎

( ⪖⩊⪕ ) ｡◕‿◕｡ 。.:☆:･'(⌒―⌒)))

(⌒▽⌒)☆ (´｡• ⩊ •｡`) (o＾▽＾o)

(★w★)/ (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.) (-‿-)

ʘ‿ʘ (✷‿✷) (◔‿◔)

(◕ᴗ◕✿) (ʘᴗʘ✿) (•ᴗ•)

( ╹▽╹ ) (≧▽≦) (☆▽☆)

(>___<) (｡>^<) ˃ᴗ˂ (＞. O)

(>M<) (≧3≦) (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

(≡^∇^≡) (≧∇≦)/ (☆^O^☆)

^⩌^* ˃ - ˂ ♡( ◡‿◡ ) (# >o<)

ャ ˖  ! 𑁍 ୨ ࣪  ˓ 🥛 ★ ﹆ׂׂ ˖ ◗    ᥫ᭡   ˖ ࣪ ‹ 𖥔 ࣪ ˖ ぅ  ་    ᳝   ◝     𖥻 ぅ.   ֺ  ָ   ֙⋆    ་    ᳝   ◝     𖥻   ̨𖥔 ִ ་  ، ˖ ࣪◞ せ ルゲ ⚠︎ ☻ ☺︎︎ ☹︎   ▹  𖥔 ࣪  📼  # ⋆ ⨾ ⊹ ǂ  ⵓ ꒷꒦ ぬ ָ࣪ を あ  ✶ ໑ 𓄼 › ✶ ♥︎  ❛ ˖࣪ 𓄹࣪ 𖠌  ✶ ָ࣪  ˖ Ꮺ ≛ ، .𖤩˖࣪ ✦ ₊˚.◗ 𓏲 ࣪₊ 𓍼˖ ᰍ ` ▸  ៸៸ 🐭 . ★﹟や ˖⁩𖦹︎ 𓄹᮫ֺ໋  ៹

˖ ۫♡ ♥︎ (๑•̀ᗢ•́๑) ❛˖ 🔪،͟، 𓂅𓄹࣪ ،، 𒀭 ʿʿ ⋆ ᳝ ֺ を ˎˊ ˗🎱 ✶་  Ꮺָ࣪ ‣ 𖥨 𖤣𖥧 𓂃𑁍 ▸ ⋆ ⭒𓁿 𓆰 ⋆ ꉂ   ՙ ،̲،̲    ٪  𓂅 𖠌 𓄹 ࣪ ˖ ⸼ 𖦹 ᪥ ❁ ˖࣪ ∿ 𐀔 𓇚 𔘓 𐇵 𖡼 ଘ 𐀔 ᵎᵎ ˖ ࣪ ،̲،̲ ⊹  ִֶָ 𖧷 ᖚ ✦  𓅦 ៹ ꒺  ┈  ❟ ꥟ ❟ ❛❛ ❜❜ ،، 📃 ✽ ،،̲ ‹› ✱ ๑ˎˊ˗ 𖧧 ❛ં ⩩ ⌔ 𖣠 𖥕﹫ ✯ ✪ ⊹ ₊ ࣪𓏲 ͎🥛₊˚✧ ᝰ 𖤐 ꒰ % 🧂 ✦ ◗𓍼 ˖⋆⑅˚₊ 𓍯 ꗃ  ⌗ 🏷️ ·  *  ʕ•̫͡•ʔ  ★ᰍ  ҂  ꒦꒷꒦ ☁︎ ꙳໋͙ な! ☆★

🛒ヤ ✶ 🔩⌗ ! ʾ ૪ ࣪˖ オ ˖˙ ៹  ╲˚ׂᨘ ‣ 𖡄  ،،̲ ‹3 冬 ㆆ •

🥛🧂🥋⛸️🏐🎹🎳🕌📡📹🛠️🧻🔪⚙️🔩⛏️🧴🛁🚿🏷️📃🔗📋📰🔒🔓🃏🏳️🏁🎌📼🎞️🎬🎮🛹🦴☕🎓🦨🐩🕸️🎱🕹️🖲️🎙️🔬🔭

﹫♥︎mini symbols pack﹟

⌕ 𖦥 𓂅 ꗃ  ⿻ ⬪ 𖦹 🂱 ˒ 𖥦 𓎆

੭ ꞈ ❍ ✧﹟❐ ⎗ 𓊘 ⍝ 𖤘

∿ ∞ ७ 〄 ◐ ★︎ ๑  ִֶָ  ⋄ ⍉

𖧧 ᝬ 𓂃 𓏲 ໑ 𔘓 ➱ ⊹ ⭑꩜

っ 𐇯 𓈈 ᔾ  ⩩ 𓍢 ҂ ⌗ ﹏ 𖣰

𖥻 𓍯 ☼𝆬   𐚱 ◠ 𖣦 ៸៸ ✦ ৎ

ζ 𖣆 ᘎ 仌 ≀ 𓈒𓏸 𓄼 ৎ୭ ५ ◌

१ ㄷ 𝅓 困 ១ ꒟ ᪤╰╮𓇢 ャ

Hi it

𓆪 ▦ 𓍼 ⟠ 𓇣 ߸ ⎓ ⌯ ⪧ ␥ ∩

𖠌 𖣂 𖡡 𖥨 ᭡ ▭ ༤ ᨓ 𖠵 ｷ

◖ 𖠳 𖣂 ꧔ 𑁯 𖤣𖥧 ᨒ 𐂴 ৫ ⧉

ꕤ 〜 ⌒ ៚ ᘒ ᦔ ೨ ﹅ 🜸

ꏍ ᨌ ﹌ 𔗫﹫𝆹𝅥 ༴⥤𖤠 ༅ ⟆ ༢

𓃠 𓃺 ଓ ↷ ୨୧ ⌑ ︙ ເ ᚹ

𐛻 𐇲 𔕚 𖣖 ﹇ ▥ 〨 ❛ ᠅ 〃

𖣻 ᘏ ⑅ 𖣓 ⸼ 𖡂 🂦 𓎆 𖤘 𔕔 𓋲 ꒷

𖤐 ଘ ？𔓘 ⤓ 𖠚̸ 𖧡 ◍̶ ꒻ ∗ ﹠

❥ ⎙ ⸙ ✎ 𖧷 જ ꕀ

キラ ❥ ℋ ꩜ 𖦹 𐇵 ☁︎ ャ ©️

ʿ ،، ٬٬ ៸៸ › ‹‹ ᎓ ：˖ ⠀ ݁ . ⠀  ◖

⨟   ✦ ﹫ ｡。 ₊ ≀⌇⸾ ﹔ ݁ 𖦆

𑁍  ؛  ៸ ▸  𖥦 ꞋꞌꞋꞌ ︐ ╰ ╯

‣  ִֶ  ٪ % ᵎᵎ   ▀▄ ▀▄▀▄ ▀  𓏲࣪ ˚.꒷

𖤐⤸₊˚ ִֶָ ❜ 𑁍 ࣪˖ 𓂃 . ࣪ ˖ ∿ 𑁍 ˓

⊹ ָ࣪ ˓˓ ˒˒ ، ˖ ࣪𑁍 ˖ ՚༹ ˙˖ 𖥔 ،،̲ ﹕ ،  ݃˓...

𖠵 ❟ ⊹ ⵢ 𓄹𓈒 ⨾ ⌁ ᯽ ◜ ◞ 𑁍 ࣪˖

♡ ≀ ٬٬ 𖥔 𔘓 𐀔 ╱ ✦ 𓍼  ִֶָ

𖨂 ᪥ ✧ 𓏲࣪ essa꒦﹫ :¨·.·¨: ¸ ˖ ֶ ִָ ٬ֶ

. ִָ ˑ ⊹ ٬ ✦ · 𒀭   ♡︎   ♥︎   𖡩   ˀ  

ᵎ   ✦   𔒌   ʾ   ໑   ▸    ִֶָ   𖥔   ࣪   ˖

.   𓄹   𓈒   𓍢   𐇵   ﹆   ☼   𓏲   ✿  

˖   𖥻   𓎆   ⏉   ੭   ꒳​   。   ❤︎   𖦹  

ଘ   ⤹   ꩜   ៹    ִֶָ    ᨳ   ⊹   𖧵   ⩩  

៹   𖤣     ࡘ   ޱ   ៳   Ꞌ   ꞌ   ◿   ◸  

ㅤ࿆   ␦   𓂆   𓂇   𓂈   𓂉   𓂀   𓂐  

𓆉   𓅂 𖤣𖥧𖡼 𓎩𓌉 𖠚❛ ꪶ  𓏲࣪ ❁ 𓂃٠     ᭡    ꕤ   𓈀   っ  𓊘  𓄹    ⦂    ᘏ   𔘓   𓈈   𓂃   𖠿    ཿ    ࿀   ᎔   ᎓     ᜴   ᜵   ᝪ   ៚  ៳   ᠀   ᠉    ᤳ    ᨓ    ᭝   ᱺ   ᳃    ◯   ◦  ◡  ◠   ⋆    ۬۟۬     ⑅    ꠴   ੭   જ   ꞈ    ⸝    ˴   ›    ≡    ࿔   ／   ଓ    ઇ   ઉ   ᧙   ᥐ   ៸   ૪   ೨   ␥   ■   ♧   ◇   ◈   ﹫   ꧔   ੭   જꞈ        ⸝      ≡    ࿔    ଓ    ઇ        ᧙    ᥐ   ៸   ໒    ː    ՞   ᵎ    ࿂  ﹆  ᰍ   ִ𖧧   𖤠   𓄹   𓈀   𖦥   ﹅   ⸯⸯ   ンㅤꞋꞌꞋꞌ   ⛸ㅤィ   %   𓂃  ㇁  ◒   ！  ンㅤ╮⟆      ﹏   ！  𝅓   𓂃𓈒   ﹑  ζ  ㅤ﹏   ⨾ㅤ 𓈈ㅤ❨   ᨓ   ⎓   °   ？  𓈒ㅤ▱   𓂅   𓂃   ⨾   ᘒ   ◟  ζ   𓍢   ◖   ᨓ   𓄹ㅤ𓏲   ╰╮   ⸯⸯ    ꞋꞌꞋꞌ   ﹪  ໑  ・ꗃ    ᘒㅤꞈ    キ   "   𓄹   ✦  ⠂   ˒  ‹𝟹   ꜝꜝ   ʚ   ⌕    ׅ ࣪𓏲ּ ֶָ

ᕱ⠀⑅⠀𓂃⠀ヾ⠀✦⠀𓄼⠀২⠀୨⠀⋆⠀𓂅⠀

⬪⠀ꕤ⠀ՙ⠀╰╮⠀♡̶⠀৲⠀ৎ⠀⬪˙ 𓈒⠀⌕⠀⊹

࿔⠀៸⠀﹆⠀﹟⠀𓏲⠀@⠀+⠀𖧧⠀،⠀⠀ഒ

        𓍯 𓂃𓏲࣪ ˖࣪ 𓂅 Ꮺ ָ࣪ ۰ 𖣠 ✦ ،،

        ˖ ࣪ 𒀭 ִֶָ  ˖࣪ᝰ ָ࣪ ۰ ⸂ぬ  ࣪˖⁩ 🧈 ▾

          ☹︎˖࣪  ⚠︎ᵎ  ִֶָ𓂃✶ ˖ ࣪ 𖥔 ،،̲

        𔘓 ٪ ˖ ࣪ 𓂃𒄬 ࣪˖ ›⋆ Ꮺ ָ࣪ ۰

         ♥︎ 𐀔ʾʾ. ▭ ⌕ ʾ › ゲ! ⸃⸃

          ꩜ ៸៸ ᯽ ៸៸ ⊹ ִֶָ𓏲࣪  . ❜

      𓆩 𓆪  ʾ ִֶָ%˓ ᵎ ҂ ࣪˖﹫𓂃⌁. ࣪˖

        ★ ⋆◗ ૪ 𖤩˖࣪ ◖ ִֶָ ໑ ָ࣪ ¡

          ꗃ : ˖ ۫◖𓂃⌁.˖ ࣪ ャﾞ

      ✦%˖ ࣪ ꒷⁩ ࣪˖ ⌕ ャ! ❛𒀭̠𓂃

        ≛ ָ࣪ 𖥔. ، 𓄹𓈒 ◟⊹! 𓏲˖࣪ ꉂ

    𓏲˖🏴‍☠️ﻬ  𓂅 ⋆ ࣪ 🕷 ! 国 ! 🏴‍☠️ ˖ ࣪

    𓂃𑁍 ࣪˖ › ﹙⚠︎ᵎ﹚🕷️─┈ ✦️️ʾ ִֶָ𖧧.

    ⋆૪ ִֶָ ࣪𖥻✸۫˖ 𓍯۫˖ 🇦🇱𖥔  ָ࣪ ˖╲ʾ ִ 𖤐 👾 ִ ͙▸

          ぬ ָ࣪  ฅ 💡🩰 𖦆 ִ ͙▸𓏲˖࣪ ꉂ

             ،، › ࣪˖ ⌕ 📃𖦹 ! ﹫

♡. °⊹ 𝘌𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴 ¡!

(ᵔ๑ᵕ̳ ᴥ ᵕ̳๑)         ₍ᵔᵕ̳ᴥᵕ̳ᵔ₎っ♡       ゞ₍ᵔ๑・ᴥ・ᵔ₎ 

ヾ(˛˛˛・︿・˛˛˛)ﾉﾞ  ｡◍ ʕ=・ᴥ・=ʔ    ٩(๑•́ ₃ •̀๑)ﾉﾞ

(๑•ᴗ•๑)    ♡ ꒰˘ᵌ˘꒱♡     ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡)    ʕ๑•́ᴥ•̀๑ʔ 

ʕ； •`ᴥ•´ʔ      є(•⌔•)э       ˏ₍•ɞ•₎ˎ         (ಥ‿ಥ)ﾉﾞ

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭*     (͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)    

♡. °⊹ 𝘌𝘮𝘰𝘫𝘪𝘴 ¡!

🌷  🍄  🐣  🖇  ☁️  🧺  🥨  🍪  🧸  🧚‍♀️  🌿  🍓

🧶  ⚘  🎨  🐚  🍃  🌾  🌼  🍒  🍚  🍡  🍨  🧁

🍶  ✨  🌈  🌫  ✉  🧷  🐾  🐦  🐥  🕊  🐳  🐋

🦋  🐞  🐝  💐  🌱  🍎  🥑  🥐  🍥  🍦  🥡  🍩

🍫  🥛  🥤  📎  🖇  ⛓  💕  💫  🐰  🐇  🌺  🍊

🍋  🍣  🍰  🐻  🐢  🥀  🌸  🍑  🥝  🥥  🍙  🍜

🍯  🍬  🎠  🎢  🎡  🌁  📺  🎬  📒  🖌  📝  🗒

⚖  🏹   💭  💌  🍐  🍉  🍞  🥞  🍟  🧀  🍭  🎪

♡. °⊹ 𝘚𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘴 ¡!

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

———————————————————

· · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ·

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒

╭──────♡──────╮

╰──────♡──────╯

-  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -

──⊙────────

↻     ◃◁  II  ▷▹     ⇄

─◡─◡─◡─◡─◡─◡─◡─┄

╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴╴

ㅤ

║▌│█║▌│ █║▌│█│║▌║

¹³ ⁴ ⁵ ⁶ ⁷ ⁸ ³⁵ ⁶² ⁷ ² ¹³ ⁴ ⁵ ⁶ ⁷

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ° . ·   . ✧ °  . ੭

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ㅤ

─────────────────────

━ ━━━━ ━━━━ ━

┄┄┄『 . • ㅤㅤ❝ ✿ ❞ㅤㅤ • . 』┄┄┄

❛━━━━━━━ ••• ━━━━━━━❜

╰───────╮ ▽ ╭───────╯

‧ ‧ ‧ ✿‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧❀‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧♡‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧❀‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧✿ ‧ ‧ ‧

ㅤ

°•✧･ ✿ ･✧•°┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┓

┗┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅°•✧･ ✿ ･✧•°

✷◎்۫۫❃۬◦۪۪̥┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┓

┗┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅

♡. °⊹ 𝘊𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘴 ¡!

㸑 㼖 䃻 䉷 䕾 䚕 䚕 䙰 䝄 䝄 壪 廳 廳 廳 廳 戅 壪 廳 戅 戆 攮 斸 曯 欖 靍 靎 顳 顴 飌 飍 飝 馫 驤 驥 驦 驧 麷 繼 繩  ⻯ ⻲ ⻱ ⻩ ⻨ ⻪ ⻲⻡⻘⿕⿆ ㌫

♡. °⊹ 𝘍𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘴 ¡!

↛ ↝ ↠ ⇝  ↣ ↦ ↬ ⇀  ⇁ ⇉ ⇏

this series was so good omfg i cant even express how i feel rn

There was very little Y/N could take from Anne’s brief testimony. At this point from the judgment of character alone Y/N had long since abandoned the idea that he could have killed his wife. The part of her that is immersed in the world of stories, dark literature, and mystery, tells her that she’s naive to trust him so wholly. That certitude like this would personify, walk with her hand-in-hand off the ship on a wooden plank, and there she’d find her naivety with a sword to her throat, telling her to jump. 

Y/N could be intuitive when she wanted to be. When she truly opened up her heart to a situation and saw it for what it was, and despite quite a few attempts of trying to make the accusation of murder make sense, she simply couldn’t. That didn’t mean she didn’t want to hear it straight from his mouth though. Just because she had made up her mind about the idea of him killing her, didn’t mean she knew the details that led to that judgment from the town. Who heard when about what and why; there was no way to know other than the two ideas she’d come up with: 

1. Break into the police department and look through classified records. 

2. Ask Harry. 

She thinks she’d try her luck fighting off a policeman first. 

or

Y/N’s questions are answered and Harry’s been through a lot, hasn’t he?

(TW: mentions of murder, suicide, abuse, alcohol/drug use)

part 1

part 2

part 3

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