hi idk what this is but i had this image of doing harry’s make up in my head and had to write it out. i haven’t written in forever so it’s a little rough. feedback is always welcome and appreciated!
Your eyes scan Harry’s face as you dust the brush along his left cheek bone, highlighting one of his best features with iridescent shimmering powder that shifts from a soft pink to a lavender every time the light hits it differently. He keeps his eyes on you, an amused smirk playing on his lips as you catch sight of his hands moving toward your hips out of your peripheral.
“Harry-“ his name is laced with a playful warning as you move on to his right cheek, the fan brush tickling his skin.
“Angel,” he hums, amused as you lock eyes with him, the brush stilling in your hand, “wouldn’t you be more comfortable..” he trails off as his fingers curl around your hips and pull you closer, leaving you no choice but to sit in his lap, “there, that’s better.”
You roll your eyes, gripping his chin and tilting his head so you can properly see what you’re doing, “you’re ridiculous,” you mutter, unable to hide your amusement.
He hums, tongue sneaking out to lick his lips, “you love me,” he says, watching you shift in his lap, reaching for the rest of his make up sitting on the table, swapping the pallet and brush for a liquid eyeliner, “never had someone else put tha’ on for me.”
“First time for everything,” you chirp, amused at the hesitation on his face, “c’mon rockstar, you don’t think I’ll poke your eye out do you?”
“O’course not,” he mumbles, his hands instinctively finding your thighs as you adjust your position so you’re straddling him, “just weird in’nt?”
You chuckle softly as you direct his head back slightly, “I’ve done other people’s liner before, besides I’m just doing a bit right?”
“Dunno princess, was thinkin’ ‘bout going full wing this time,” he says, hands wandering up your thighs as you shake the liner pen to prime it, “it’d look good yeah?”
“You could go out in full drag makeup and everyone’d love it,” you murmur, your thumb brushing his bottom lip as your fingers sit curled under his chin to hold his head in place.
He puckers his lips in response to the touch and you roll your eyes playfully before fulfilling his request and pressing a kiss there, his fingers flexing against your thighs, “nope,” you break the kiss before his lips are able to send you into a complete fog of want, “you have an arena of people waiting to hear you sing, we don’t have time for that.”
He smirks, his hands sliding up your thighs to your hips, “you know shagging you before a show has always produced my best performances,” he hums, leaning forward and brushing his lips to your neck, “can’t deny it.”
You chew on your bottom lip as he presses another kiss to your skin, inching closer to the spot he knows will have you melting in his lap. You let out a huff as you slide your hand into his hair, his happy little hum quickly melting into a groan when you pull his head back gently, his eyes finding yours, “the same happens when you go on stage knowing I’m here,” you pause, leaning in so your lips brush his ear when you speak next, “wet, waiting for you.”
He slaps your ass in response to that, a yelp of surprise leaving your lips as the sting radiates through your cheek, “two can play that game angel,” he says, his smirk growing as he watches your throat flex with your gulp, knowing your arousal is hitting hard right about now, “c’mon, you gonna finish making me pretty?”
You grumble under your breath making a point to rub yourself against his growing erection as you adjust your position, fingers leaving his hair to find his chin once again, “this won’t work unless you stay still,” you warn, raising your eyebrow at him when you feel his fingers sliding down your thighs and slowly back up, “that includes your hands.”
His hands still just above your knees as a slow smirk pulls at his lips, “whatever you say,” he says, closing his eyes before you have the chance to instruct him to do so, “work your magic.”
You uncap with pen and hold his chin steady, angling his head so you can easily glide the tip along his eyelid, the shimmery eyeshadow you put on him early sparkling in the light, “wing?” You ask and he hums in response, his thumbs rubbing along the inseam of your jeans. You take your time on his other eye, careful to match the wings on either side before you lean back slightly and cap the pen, “all done rockstar.”
He opens his eyes and leans around you to get a look in the mirror, turning his head left and right, “think I migh’ hav’ya do my make up every show,” he says, eyes glancing at the clock that sits on the table before focusing on you, “an’ look at tha’- still have time to shag.”
You chuckle as he leans in, pressing your hand against his chest as you lean back slightly, “you have a one track mind,” you tease as his hands slide up to your hips, tugging you closer so he can press his lips to your neck, “you’re gonna ruin your make up.”
“Got you to fix me up don’t I?” He murmurs, leaving a trail of kisses down your neck, teeth sinking into your collarbone gently before he stands, easily carrying you to the couch.
