#so shes getting these love letters from a secret admirer and the whole thing is told by gossip girl

[moonchildstyles]

ephemere

élan part three: when the night comes crashing down harry is the only one there for y/n.

wordcount: 22k+

cw: descriptions of a panic attack, unwanted advances against our y/n (nothing too intense), and her dad is veryyyy mean in this one

—————

"Good morning!" Dom—(Y/N)'s stylist, and the most important person of the day—sung as he swept through her apartment, a team of people following behind, "We have so much to do today, are you ready?" 

(Y/N) sleepily shut the door behind the last person that trickled in. "Yeah," she yawned, forcing herself to keep her eyes open after the lingering blink she gave. 

Today was early enough already with the fact Harry had come over an hour prior, and now her apartment was full of half a dozen others that were way too happy for the early hour. (To be fair, it was just before ten a.m., but she didn't love to get up any earlier than that when it wasn't a pilates day). 

Tonight was finally the night of the 132 Gala. She'd prepped as much as she could this week—an esthetician visit the other day, waxing studio visit the day before, a touch-up and trial run appointment with her hair stylist earlier in the week—but so much of the process had to be left to the day of. 

"Just yeah?" Dom teased, imitating her sleepy voice, "I thought you'd be excited to see me today." 

"I am, I am," (Y/N) argued, trudging towards him with her sleep shorts rustling against her thighs, "I didn't sleep well last night, but I promise I'm excited. Just a little tired." 

She wasn't lying about her late night, the small hours of the morning having been the only time she managed to sleep. A letter had been sent to her apartment the night before, plaguing her mind a little too deeply. 

It had only been a matter of time, she knew when she saw the official publications posting about her secret rendezvous with Harry at the country club. (Her favorite was the subline on one article, saying that (Y/N) was insisting he was only a bodyguard but how could she resist a body like that? As invasive as it was, it was still rather clever). Now that less real drama was circulating about her, rumors had taken the helm and that seemed to draw her admirer out much more often; less concrete answers seemed to draw them out. They seemed to feel a need to rewrite them to fit a specific mold they had for her, one (Y/N) never really understood the parameters of. It gave her a spike of anxiety in the pit of her stomach now whenever she picked up her mail, worrying that something too heavy to be friendly would be slipped between the bills and other pieces. 

"Well," Dom chirped, clapping his hands together, "We'll just have to make sure no one can tell!" 

With that, the day turned into a bit of a whirlwind. Many of these big events deteriorated into such, too much going on for (Y/N) to properly focus on one thing at a time. 

At least there was a photographer Dom brought along to take photos of the whole process. One more person running around her apartment. 

Her hair was the first thing to be started on, the one thing that was going to take the longest. Ensuring everything was perfect, a wash was made to start the day, plenty of products and serums applied before everything was dried and brushed. The natural texture of her strands was altered, her stylist wrapping them around hot and heavy curlers. Earlier in the week at the trial, extensions were added to her hair, adding to the weight on the top of her head. Though she loved the look it would achieve in the end, everything looking effortlessly glamorous with big curls and draping strands, she almost erupted into a migraine from the tension. 

At least once the rollers were in, though, she caught a break from her hair stylist. Done was all the tugging and pulling from the various hot tools and hairbrushes, now she could just sit there and concentrate on ensuring her scalp didn't throb before she had a chance to feel pretty. 

While the curlers cooled enough to truly curl her hair, her nail tech pulled up a seat beside her. Carlotta was her usual warm self, pleasantly chatting with (Y/N) until a light silence settled between them. Applying and filing her nails were comforting motions, knowing that her set was coming together. It didn't take long for the paint to come out, sparkling pearls to be added to the pastel pink French manicure to match that of her dress. Her fingernails looked every bit like the princess set they had been calling it before Carlotta made her exit for the day, her job done in one go compared to the others that would stick around for final touches.

After a quick break for snacks, her hair was ready to be unraveled and her makeup ready to be applied. The photographer began her closeups then, the camera shuttering as her hair fell in large curls around her face, her makeup artist prepping her skin. Dom periodically checked in, ensuring things were going according to their plan all the while he was coordinating garments and creating problems just to fix them a moment later. Around her, members of the glam team began to pull out their phones, their own cameras trained around the space to document their own experience getting her ready. 

(Y/N) sat quietly in the middle of it all, eyes closing when instructed, head tilting when needed, body still in her silken robe. 

For hours on end, Harry was like a statue in the corner of the room—silent and stoic. When things began to get hectic, Dom tried to kick him out, only for Harry to ignore the attempts and stay right where he was. He wouldn't be going anywhere no matter how hard Dom tried. 

—————

"Everyone out! She needs to get dressed! Everyone out!" 

(Y/N) could see Dom was moments away from ripping his hair out, the time making him more than stressed. Styling her hair took longer than expected, draining an additional half an hour from their prep time. Dom timed things meticulously, the schedule written down to the minute to leave her to be on the carpet at a fashionable time—not too early, not too late. This was going to through everything off, and Dom was already feeling it. 

The second her hair was finally pinned into place, a layer of hairspray going across the strands to keep anything from moving in any direction, he pulled her into her bedroom where she was to be dressed. Everyone was to be shooed out of her space then, Dom directing them with an agitated tone. 

On their way out of the previously quiet room, (Y/N) slipped away from Dom and offered her thanks, hoping they didn't take her stylist's tone too personally. They would still be needed for finishing touches, and she didn't want them stepping out on account of her stylist. Especially since she loved them for their regular services, anyway. 

Quietly padding back to her bedroom before Dom became more agitated, Harry became her ghost once more. 

"I'll wait outside here for you, okay?" Harry murmured, looking at her with a clear gaze as he stopped in the threshold of her bedroom. 

"You don't have to," she told him, lingering in the doorway. She could promise she would be on her best behavior if he needed her to. 

Harry shook his head, a curl falling over his forehead. "I'll be here." 

With that, she was pulled into her bedroom with the help of Dom's assistant, her grip much more delicate than that of the stylist. 

The process of squeezing her into her garments began then. Shapewear and the proper undergarments pulled over her body, her form smoothing with rounded curves. (Y/N) held her breath with every swath of fabric wrapped around her body, more and more of the look piecing together the closer they got. 

"Careful," Dom told her, helping her step into the molten pearl of the Vivienne Westwood dress of her dreams. His assistant held the gown with utmost care, ensuring there was no way there could be a rogue crease or an unwanted footstep on the hem. 

(Y/N) stayed stagnant, allowing them to zip her into the corset. Dom took over as his assistant began to shoot photos, documenting the way the tight corset adhered to her body. The top was tighter than the original fitting, alterations stiffening the boning and pushing her breasts up high on her chest. Her cleavage was deeper than she ever thought it could be, the swells pushed up and almost spilling over the neckline. The body makeup her artist applied sparkled in the lighting, highlighting the soft parts of her body in a sunny glow. The draping of pearls as her sleeves dripped down her biceps, strategically broken strands having been added during alterations to allow another string to hang down the length of her arms. The high slit was just as scandalous as she remembered, a breeze settling over her bare skin. 

She felt gorgeous. 

Glancing in the mirror bolted to the wall across from her, she saw the vision come together. Her hair was perfect, bouncy and full, tickling her collarbones with soft brushes. Her dress glimmered like molten pearl on her body, clinging to every curve and edge. Her makeup glittered in the gentle light, delicate sparkles on her eyelids with soft pinks airbrushed across her cheeks and lips. Everything was dewy and light—she looked like a cross between a celestial body and a mermaid inhabiting the waters of a moonlit lagoon. 

There was a level of giddiness rising in her knowing that there were going to be countless photos of herself dressed this way. For the first time in a really long time, she looked forward to the torrent of cameras and flashes that would be pointed her way on the Gala carpet. 

That serenity didn't last for very long, though, before Dom found another detail to begin to worry over. 

"Where is the purse?" he muttered, voice sharp as he rifled through the bag he brought along with him. 

"The purse?" his assistant, chirped, stepping back once the proper photographer had rejoined them, his camera flashing to catch (Y/N) in a candid moment. 

"Her purse. The purse. The one (Y/N) is supposed to be carrying on the carpet in less than an hour." Dom was seething now. 

"It's not in there?" 

"If it was, I'd have it already," Dom snapped back, his arms almost elbow deep into his endless bag of everything.

The level of chaos in her apartment ratcheted up a notch in that moment. Now was not the time for something like that to go wrong. Not when—as Dom listed out—finishing adjustments to her makeup needed to be made, final touches to her hair, and someone needed to help her put her shoes on so she didn't bend and crease the dress. Not to mention the photoshoot Dom planned on having (Y/N) partake in before she left for the event, photos to be taken for his portfolio. 

"Dom—I can—" 

(Y/N) was quickly cut off as he shook his head, his long hair flying around his face. "No, you are not doing anything! Where is everyone?! We don't have time for this."

His assistant scuttled away then, gathering each of the members of her prep group to accomplish each of the things Dom was beginning to fret over. 

"Henry—Harris—Whatever your name is, can you please help instead of just standing around?!" Dom shouted through the now cracked door of (Y/N)'s bedroom. 

A beat passed before everyone—including Harry—stepped into her room. Carlotta had an extra file in hand, her hair stylist a comb and a bottle of hair spray in his apron pocket, and makeup artist with a gloss in hand. Harry held nothing but a raised brow over the way Dom spoke to him. 

Each of the artists and techs descended upon her then, each quietly assessing what needed to be perfected before they were off. (Y/N) didn't have a chance to see what Dom was commissioning Harry to help with before she had to blink her eyes shut, her makeup artist fluffing a brush of glitter on her eyelids. 

"Find her bag, and someone put her shoes on, please! We won't have time for pictures if we keep this up!" Dom rattled off, "The event is almost over at this point! Where the fuck is her bag?" 

As much as (Y/N) loved Dom, it was moments like these she wondered if the stress of preparing for events was worth it. 

Murmured voices of his assistant and a deep voice (Y/N) thought could be Harry, adding to the chatter of the room. The sound of her door creaking happened before the dull roar finally settled. 

"(Y/N)?" 

Chancing a blink of her eyes open, (Y/N) saw Harry standing before her, just behind her makeup artist, with the box of her Manolo Blahniks in hand. 

He met her gaze over the shoulder of the artist swiping more gloss over her lips, his eyes dropping imperceptibly down to her mouth before ringing back up once more. 

Before he had a chance to say anything, Dom traipsed back in, his cheeks decidedly redder than before. "Help her with her shoes, we need to go!" he shouted, Harry not even bothering to look back. 

He was hesitating—waiting for her permission. There was an unspoken line they'd put in the sand, one that kept each other at arm's length; (Y/N)'s aloofness, and Harry's professionalism the key administers. He wouldn't come any closer if she didn't want him to.

"It's okay," she told him, her makeup artist pausing as her lips moved.

With that, box in hand, Harry wormed his way in-between the various artists and stylists warmed around her. Bending to one knee, he knelt before her with the pristine white box just off to the side. She could feel his eyes on her when he made the first touch, a hand on her ankle. Unwilling to disturb the makeup artist tending to her face, and the stylist primping her hair, (Y/N) wasn't able to meet his eyes despite feeling them trace her face.

The photographer's camera shuttered at a rapid rate, but (Y/N) knew these photos were going to be the kind that stayed in the archive with her. 

His thumb grazed the bone in her ankle as she shifted her weight, helping him slip the first cream colored pump onto her foot. The custom pump had a ring of pearls that were to be attached around her ankle. (Y/N) could feel the brush of Harry's fingers over her skin as he latched the stones around her leg, his touch decidedly more gentle than she could have expected from someone who's entire job centered around the rough use of them. 

"Let me go grab a setting spray, hold on," her makeup artist murmured, dropping her hands from where they were separating her fluffed lashes and diffusing the color on her eyelids. With that, the woman scurried away, leaving (Y/N) the freedom to finally shift her eyes. 

Glancing down, she saw Harry on his knees, a furrow in his brow as he concentrated on helping her balance on the teetering heels. It was like he knew she was watching with the way he peeked up, the fan of his lashes a frame around the green of his eyes. His hand faltered for a split second when she met his gaze. 

The rest of the noise melted away for that moment, (Y/N) only taking in just how delicate the shoes looked in comparison to Harry, how gently he was treating her. How pretty he was. She wondered if Dom had ever considered taking Harry on, prepping him for this event instead; he'd fit right in with the models and celebrities that would be on the carpet. 

Despite her eyes following his movements, (Y/N) hadn't been paying attention when he had finished slipping her shoe on, the pearls latched around her ankle. She teetered where she stood, a slight gasp leaving her lips. 

In an instant, Harry was there, standing to the full of his height in front of her. He steadied her, his grip on her arms firm in his hold but gentle in his touch. 

"Alright?" he asked, gaze skipping down her features for just a moment. 

(Y/N) almost thought he sounded breathless. 

"Yeah," she answered, the word low between the two of them as if there weren't a handful of others around. "Thank you." 

Harry only nodded, his hands lingering for a split second longer before they fell away from where he had them on her biceps. 

In the back of her mind, she could hear the way the photographer seemed to be capturing every second of the interaction. Camera flashes and the lens shuttering added to the chaos. 

The same time Harry was backing away, her makeup artist returned with a glimmering bottle in hand. She was flustered, immediately stepping back into place in front of (Y/N), leaving only a sliver of a view of Harry over her shoulder. 

(Y/N) had her eyes glued to him as he approached the entrance to her bedroom, his previous post having been just outside. She saw as he lingered, his head down as he shifted his weight as if he wasn't sure if he wanted to step forward or step back. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. 

"Close your eyes for me," her artist instructed. 

Hesitating before doing so, (Y/N) just barely caught the way Harry seemed to look back at her. 

A loud commotion burst into the room then, (Y/N) flinching where she stood with her eyes closed.

"I found the purse!" 

It took a moment for Dom's voice to register. (Y/N) had completely forgotten about the purse.

—————

(Y/N)'s fingers skipped over the pearls dripping down her arms, keeping her gaze forward as they rushed through the New York streets. Beside her, Harry had changed into an all black suit while she was commandeered for photographs at Dom's request. He kept his gaze solely stretched out the window. He hadn't looked at her since that moment in her bedroom, the space between them on the bench seat just a hair larger. 

"When would you like me to come for you?" Sully asked, breaking (Y/N) from her over-analysis of how many inches of space was supposed between two people in a working relationship that had also shared a somewhat intimate moment just an hour earlier. At least, (Y/N) thought it was intimate. 

She recrossed her legs, shifting in her seat. "Um, I'm not sure," she murmured, noting the way Harry didn't break his staring contest with the window even at this disturbance, "I don't want to say too long, but Francesca will probably want to go to an afterparty." 

"Okay, just give me a call about thirty minutes before you're ready. I'll make it as soon as possible, but you know how these places can be." 

A smile stretched across her glossy lips as she nodded her head. "Got it. Thank you." 

She wondered if Harry knew how many shades of green were in his eyes, if he saw the same tiny blonde hairs threaded through his dark curls that she did. She wondered if he knew how gorgeous he was. She hoped he didn't know that she was still thinking about the way he looked up at her when he was on his knees before.

Despite the sun having set and sunk below the horizon, the city was still bright outside the windows. (Y/N) wondered how many of the other vehicles passing around them were also heading to the Gala. 

Peering through the front windscreen, the gallery came into view. The large building that was usually splashed in black and white with 132 on the front in primary colors, had been transformed to allow a tent to be set up up front, shielding the public from the massive red carpet laid out underneath. From here, she could spot the overflow of people, bright lights shining from under the white tent. At least a fourth of that light had to be from the crowd of photographers and publications that had made it inside the event. 

Coming to a smooth stop in front of the event, Sully put them in park but didn't make any move to usher her out. From the curb, she could see those set up along the carpet, ready for interviews or photos. She could even see Francesca towards the end, nearest to the entrance. 

Her fiddling with the pearls of her dress resumed, anxiety spiking. Her crossed leg swung. 

For the first time since leaving her apartment, Harry turned to look at her. His eyes stayed fixed to her face, not daring to skate anywhere else on her body. 

"Ready?" 

A faux-natural smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Mhm," she hummed, glancing at Sully through the rearview. It was too crowded for him to help her out of the car as usual, she knew that. She would have to settle for a smile through the rearview to settle her through the night. "See you soon?" 

"See you soon, sweetheart," he confirmed, his eyes gentle as he met them through the glass. 

With that, Harry took his leave first, scooting out of the car with her small purse in tow before reaching back inside to offer her a helping hand out. It felt like a movie the way she could hear the snapping of cameras and dull roar from the event. The shadows around him lengthened, backlit by the fluorescent bulbs. 

Rubbing her glossy lips together, she put her hand in his and followed him out onto the sidewalk. 

Harry was dropped into his element then second they were faced with the budding crowd waiting to be herded onto the carpet. He had to have been familiar with events like these as he let go of her hand only to place his palm on her upper back, ushering her through the bodies. It was a form of a greenroom that was waiting at the entrance of the carpet, another tent with event coordinators ensuring pacing out the carpet. He didn't let her stop even as some familiar faces gave her small greetings. 

Dipping his head down, (Y/N) could feel the tip of his nose brush the draping strands of hair by her ear. "'M going to stay a step behind you the whole time, okay? If at any point you want to be done, jus' look at me and we'll go. I'll be with you." 

Drawing away just enough to match his gaze, there was that earnest intensity she'd seen only once before at the pilates studio. 

"Okay," she said, giving her head a minute no, unwilling to remove her gaze from his. 

With one final push towards the head of the line, (Y/N) could spot the event coordinators clustered around the entrance, earpieces in and tablets at their chests. She watched as they ushered someone onto the carpet—a model she remembered from a trip to Milan, but couldn't place his name—cameras flashing the second he made it to the first pose point. 

Harry's hand was a warm weight on her back, grounding her as she forced herself not to pick at her nails or fiddle with her dress as she attempted to sike herself up for her own upcoming turn. From the corner of her eye, she saw one of the familiar coordinators perk up when he spotted her, one of the ones that had been assisting the event for the last handful of years. The coordinator—Monty—brought the lapel of his blazer to his mouth, muttering something into the covert microphone, before (Y/N) felt extra eyes on her. 

With a bright smile on his face, Monty pushed their way through the clusters of people, stopping right by she and Harry. 

"Ms. (Y/N), how are you this evening? You look gorgeous," Monty greeted her, his eyes obviously shifting from her gown to the petite pearl bag in Harry's hands. His brow raised just that much more at the sight. 

"Thank you so much, Monty," she bubbled, knowing the version of herself he would be expecting and slipping into that role, "How are you? Busy, I'm sure." 

"You have no idea," he exaggerated, the words ending with a boisterous laugh (Y/N) joined in on. "Are you ready to walk?" 

"As ready as I can be," (Y/N) offered, shaking her head as she gestured down to her shoes, "Didn't get a chance to break in my shoes at all, and you know how the Vivienne corsets can be." 

"We'll get you through as fast as possible, then," Monty laughed, smiling a little too bright, "You know, when we got your RSVP, we made sure to stock the bar extra just for you." 

It was meant to be a joke, she knew that, a rib at the way she was apparently always drunk whenever she went out. She was sure it was supposed to be something meant to entice her into being that much more excited to get the carpet over. Nonetheless, she couldn't help the way she wanted to roll her eyes and huff a sigh. 

Still, she laughed along, leaning forward as if she were doubling over in laughter. The photographers ate it up. "You know me so well," she told Monty, taking in a deep breath, "Thank you." 

Casting a look towards the carpet, Monty double checked his tablet before he looked at her with a mild smile. "Ready to go?" 

Following his gaze, the patrons in front of her had dwindled down to none, leaving her the next on the chopping block.

Feeling a tad bit stiff after the last interaction, (Y/N) still nodded her head. "Of course." 

Harry was a silent pillar beside her as they followed after Monty. She wished she knew what he was thinking. 

A beat passed, Monty waiting for a cue, then he looked to (Y/N) with that practiced smile. "Go ahead, Ms. (Y/N). I'll see you in there." 

(Y/N) waved her goodbye, stepping carefully into the mouth of the event, the carpet shifting under her feet into something luxurious and soft. At her back, Harry stepped up.

"I'll be right behind you," he murmured, a quiet reminder, before the chaos erupted. 

No doubt the media recognized who was at her back, cameras fluttering with flashes burning her gaze. She smiled effortlessly, stopping to pose and look in whatever direction she was called. She stood out against the stark white and deep black of the carpet, the attendees meant to be the color in the gallery for the night. Around her, others were posted up giving their own poses to the cameras facing them, some having brought friends or dates to chat with in between. 

(Y/N) hoped she would see Francesca or Emma soon. 

Traipsing through the carpet, (Y/N) stopped and pose at ever juncture instructed, blowing kisses and showing off her gown at every stop. As nervous as she was to have so many eyes on her—many wanting some kind of slip up to be able to report on—it couldn't knock how excited she was to have herself immortalized in a look like this. That couldn't take away how pretty she felt. 

Harry was a silent soldier behind her, never wavering as the hall had shouting photographers, shuttering cameras, and chatter from the various attendees. He followed her carefully, a delicate pink bag hanging from his hands that were clasped at his front. He stayed far enough away to ensure every shot only captured her, but close enough she could turn to face him and give him whatever signal was needed to get out of there. 

Going down the carpet, (Y/N) grew used to the feel of eyes all over her, beginning to revel in the way her body and look was being appreciated by the attendees. While she didn't love the sound of her name being shouted across the carpet, she didn't mind when it meant she was going to be posing for a photo that she would be happy to see floating around the internet. 

Scaling the plush staircase trailing further down the carpet, the mass of the photographers thinned leaving only a few here and there to snap the final photos before guests were led into the gallery, with a few publications waiting for a moment to catch an interview. Scanning the few, (Y/N) tried to spot the one interview she was scheduled to make for the night. 

Catching sight of a bright blonde head of hair, (Y/N) inched towards her hoping the woman was who she thought it was. It took a moment for the interviewer to turn around, the strands of ultra straight blonde hair fanned around her familiar face. Relief hit (Y/N), then—she didn't have to stand in the middle of everything hoping someone noticed her and gave direction.

"Hi, (Y/N), how are you?" The interviewer, Gwen, greeted her with a bright smile, leaning over to give her a light hug around their immaculate gowns. 

Noting the camera that was definitely still recording, (Y/N) ensured her own tabloid smile was fixed to her face, her voice pitched and pleasant. "I'm doing well, thank you! You look amazing, Gwen," (Y/N) bubbled, stepping back to admire the embellishments on the gown. 

She wasn't surprised, really. Gwen was the yearly reporter for the major fashion magazine that sponsored half of the attendees at the event. They were one of the few legitimate publications that printed stories about her and reached out for articles about her looks or to be featured in segments on their website—even if there were hate comments flooded on her features. 

Starting off like the rest of the interviews that had been conducted that night, Gwen asked who she was wearing and rattled off questions about the inspiration behind her gown. (Y/N) answered pleasantly, attributing everything to the collaborative effort with her stylist and the handful of others that helped her prep for the night. Standing just off camera, Harry stayed back but she could feel his eyes on her as she spoke with Gwen. 

More than once did Gwen's eyes shift from where (Y/N) stood, peeking over her shoulder to find her bodyguard. (Y/N) hated to think what she might be assuming at that moment, the kinds of questions that might be swirling. Tomorrow, when all of the analyses of this moment were circulated through the public, she was sure people would assume that there was something more going on in the moment, that Harry was doing something just off screen that would somehow confirm that he was her affair partner and secret boyfriend. 

"But, yeah, we wanted something classic for the hair, but it definitely took a lot more time to get there than it looks," (Y/N) ended, brushing those stray strands out of her face. 

Waiting for the next question to come, (Y/N) saw the way Gwen tossed a glance towards the producer that was standing behind the camera. Something was exchanged in that look.

Keeping the energy up, Gwen turned back to (Y/N) with her practiced smile. "While I have you here, (Y/N), we do have to ask," she said, lowering her head with a glint in her eye as if she were just a girl friend gossiping over brunch, "We see you've brought a guest with you tonight, can you share with us who that is?" 

She was definitely fishing, trying to glean something out of the interaction. Even magazines like this couldn't be completely free from rumors and gossip, she guessed. 

Staying in character, bubbly and bright, (Y/N) looked behind her with a giggle. (Another scene that was going to be overanalyzed, edited and clipped to show the "truth"). Waving to him to step forward, she hoped Harry would play along for just a couple of minutes. Hesitant, Harry took a careful step forward, inching into the view of the camera with her purse swinging in his grip. 

"This is Harry," she bubbled off, gesturing to him as he gave a reserved smile to the camera before tipping his head down so as to not garner any more attention, "I know he's been pictured with me a lot recently, but he's just my bodyguard. I think there's been a few different stories floating around, but that's the truth."

Gwen paused for a second, certainly rattled by the soft denial she was given for details. In an attempt to recover from the fishing, she joked, "And, is that your purse or his he's got?" 

"His, but he let me borrow it for the night," (Y/N) played along, hoping Harry wouldn't mind taking ownership over the mini beaded bag in his grip. 

Gwen joined in her laughter, sounding a little more than exaggerated with the way she reached out to grab (Y/N)'s arm as if to steady herself. 

"Well," she started once recovering, "it was so much fun talking with you, (Y/N). We'll see you inside." 

"I'll see you inside, Gwen," (Y/N) reciprocated, giving another small hug as a goodbye. 

"Hopefully, we'll both be at the same afterparty—I'd love a chance to see you let loose," Gwen laughed.

"Right," (Y/N) answered with a peal of laughter, stepping out with a wave as Gwen's next interviewee was set to step up to the plate. 

Taking in a deep breath and shaking out her hands, (Y/N) was grateful to be out of view of any cameras. Only a stitch remained off the carpet before she would be ushered into the event, but there was a moment of reprieve in this moment.

Close behind, Harry stepped up beside her, his eyes clear when he matched hers. "Alright?" 

"Yeah," she breathed, fluttering her lashes with a shake of her head to get the stray hairs from her updo out of her face, "I didn't expect anyone to ask about that. Sorry." 

"'S okay," he murmured, scanning over her features, "Want to wait a second before we go in?"

(Y/N) nodded her head with a mumbled yeah. Harry didn't push her as she lingered in that space in-between, allowing her space as she calmed her rattled nerves. It wasn't until she heard the sound of others approaching, more people to clock her with her shaking hands and stressed demeanor, that she decided she was ready to move on. 

"Let's go," she murmured, eyes downcast as she spared a few more moments before she was to be on again. 

"Y'sure?" Harry checked, reaching his hand out to hover between her shoulder blades. All he needed was the reaffirming nod from her before he was helping to usher her inside. 

The hosts of the event were the first to greet her as they stepped into the gallery, familiar faces (Y/N) had seen year after year. Harry's hand on her back was warm and weighty, keeping her on track as he took the blame to usher her through the interactions as soon as she received their seating tickets and were wished a good evening. She was grateful for him getting her through, still feeling a little bit too exposed after that interview. 

Entering into the gallery space that had been renovated for the event to feature round dinner tables and a stage for the hosts and donors to be honored for the night. Matching the carpet out front, everything was left as black and white, the guests being the splashes of color as if they were the artworks for the night. The decor came in the same monotone hues only the cocktails and drinks breaking up the greys on the table. 

"Did they seat you with me?" (Y/N) asked, passing Harry his ticket for the night. 

Giving the paper a small glance, Harry kept most of his attention on getting her through the clusters of people standing about. "Think so," he murmured, a furrow on his brow. 

Peering over the large curls on her head, Harry guided her through, finding their table. Lucky for her, despite being a bit later than she had scheduled, her father and his associates hadn't arrived yet. That allowed her to peek at the seating chart, lips thinning when she saw she'd be at her father's side through the night. 

"Can I have my bag?" (Y/N) asked, looking at Harry just a step behind her. He didn't hesitate to pass off her tiny purse. Still embarrassed by what happened on the carpet and thinking about the dull way he confirmed he'd been seated next to her, (Y/N) bit at her bottom lip before turning towards him. "It's okay if you don't want to stay tonight. I know this stuff is really boring, so if you'd rather—" 

"No. We've been over this," Harry said, his voice stern as he matched her gaze, "Wherever you are, I am." 

While she knew this was all a part of his job—his following of her, his determination—there was something that bubbled behind her ribs. Even if there was no other reason he would spend time with her, at least there was someone always at her side; she wasn't going to be alone in these moments as long as Harry was there. 

"Okay," she nodded, biting back a smile. Peeking over his shoulder, (Y/N) spotted Emma and Francesca settled around their own table, chatting away while others breezed past their table with small greetings. "I think I'm going to go talk to my friends before my dad gets here, but you can go get a drink or something if you want. If anyone asks for any payment or anything, just say it's on me." 

While she knew there was a high possibility that he wasn't going to take her up on the offer, he only nodded at her before she was sending off towards the girls. 

Growing closer to their court, (Y/N) could see Stavros at Emma's side, with Francesca thankfully alone—it was always a good day when she didn't bring some billionaire or to come hang out in hopes of commandeering his yacht for the weekend. They had leaned close together, chatting over the table while Stavros absently stroked his hand up and down Emma's arm, his gaze shimmering as he gazed at her profile. 

Franny was the first to spot her approach, her gaze lifting and posture straightening. "(Y/N)!" she cheered, Emma turning in her seat with a matching smile, "You finally made it!" 

"You look gorgeous," Emma gushed, her own glimmering dress surely a Stavros original.

"Thank you," (Y/N) smiled, taking a free chair at Emma's side to slip into the conversation, "You guys look so pretty, too." 

At that, Emma couldn't seem to help herself before launching into the origin story of her dress, introducing Stavros and his genius mind as the one behind her high couture sheath dress. Francesca had clearly already heard this tale, her gaze checked out as she pulled her phone from her purse. 

"Did you bring anyone, (Y/N)?" Emma pressed, no doubt having already seen Harry at her table and fishing for more information. 

Shaking her head, (Y/N) felt the ends of her hair tickling her collarbones. "No, just Harry." 

"Just Harry?" 

A smile spread across her cheeks at Emma's prodding. "Just Harry," she parroted, unwavering despite Emma's tease. Turning to Francesca, (Y/N) shifted the conversation, "Has your mom called again since she visited?" 

It only took a roll of Fran's eyes to tell (Y/N) everything she needed to know. "It's not if she's called, it's how many times." 

With that Francesca started on the epic that was the amount of phone calls, FaceTimes, and voicemails left on her phone with her mom still insistent that being a gallery owner is all her daughter could ever want. Following along and allowing her laughter to flow freely, (Y/N) slipped into herself as she sat with her friends. Seeing the event photographer fluttering about the tables, she was grateful that this moment could be forever immortalized—a time she felt like herself with her best friends. 

Unfortunately, also from her peripheral, she could spot her father and his friends having seated themselves at their table. His showmanship in terms of his boisterous laughter that had to be at a volume just higher than the rest of the crowd was what gave him away. Harry was also seated though he was decidedly less interested in the conversation than the rest of the table, his gaze shifting to where she sat more often than not. 

(Y/N) couldn't help but to scoot in further to her borrowed table, despite knowing that she was only pushing off the inevitable. She was going to have to speak to her father anyway, especially with her place setting residing next to him. Nonetheless, she preferred to put it off as long as possible. She was having a good time at this point, no reason to cut it short.

Being spared only a handful more minutes, (Y/N) knew she couldn't steal this spot forever when she saw one of the hosts start making rounds before edging towards the stage. She was sure the rightful owner of this spot was waiting for her to leave, anyway.

Finding a pause in the conversation, she began to stand with a careful hand ensuring the slit in her dress didn't open too wide. "I'd better go sit down, guys. I think everything's starting soon."

Francesca gave her a pout. "You'll come see us after dinner?" 

"Of course; you think I'm going to stay over there all night?" 

Both Fran and Emma let out a laugh, Stavros awkwardly joining in despite most likely needing a translation of what she said from his girlfriend. 

Sharing quiet goodbyes, (Y/N) pasted a smile on her face as she made her way back to her own table. At some point she must not have caught, Harry had gotten up and was now returning with a couple of glasses of water in his hands. She watched as he placed them beside their individual plates then took the spot beside her father. A pinch took her brow. 

Their table was full of exclusively her father's friends: two men she recognized from the country club, one of their wives, and Harry. The rearrangement would leave her to sit between Harry and the man's wife, a step removed from her father. Not that she was complaining, though. 

Without missing a step, (Y/N) approached the round table with her hands folded in front of her, tiny bag on her wrist. The sound of her heels clacking over the floor was muffled under the dull roar of the chattering ballroom. 

Silently, she took her rearranged spot. Scooting in, no one acknowledged her, her father instead holding court as usual. At least here, he was one of many important fish, so she didn't have to deal with people fawning over his facade. 

Peering at the name cards she had spotted before, (Y/N) saw her's and Harry's cards had been swapped. Harry had been stationed at the table the whole time, she couldn't imagine anyone had a moment—even her father—to move the places around without him noticing.

Eventually, just as she was about to pull out her phone and do anything to entertain herself, she heard her name come from her father's mouth. "You look nice, sweetie" he complimented, his investor meeting smile lighting up his features. 

"Thank you," she answered, her own features arranged in a practiced expression, "You look nice, too." 

Just like that, he moved on, replacing his attention to now land on Harry. It was a replay of the day at the country club, another round of praises being offered to her "handler" and all the amazing work he's done for (Y/N). Tuning it all out, she instead focused on the ice in her water glass, smiling when she heard a laugh around the table and zoning out otherwise. 

It wasn't until there was another joke made at (Y/N)'s expense, that she was brought back to the surface with a discreet brush of a hand against her knee. Blinking back into the moment, she saw Harry looking at her, ignoring whatever else was going on.

"Alright?" he murmured, eyes flittering about her features, "Do y'want me to get you a drink?" 

The beginnings of a smile touched at the corner of her lips, her mouth going lopsided with her lipgloss glittering in the light. "I'm okay, but thank you," she muttered. 

If she was being honest, she was on the brighter side of okay in that second. It was nice seeing someone ignore her dad for once and offer her some attention. 

Harry only gave her a quiet nod before seamlessly slipping back into the conversation. Her attention followed him, watching the way he interacted very differently than only a couple weeks prior at the country club. 

He was stiff in where he sat, features closer to a flat mask than the more languid expressions she was used to seeing him give her father. His jaw was tight, his forearms coming to rest on the lip of the table, his hands an inflexible bundle over the fine china of his plate. He was taking up space, shoulders broad and eyes solid. Following his line of sight, she saw him fixed on the man sitting at her father's other side. 

(Y/N) only recognized him from the country club, specifically during her last visit a couple of weeks back. He wasn't notable by any means, but he was one of the couple that spared her a lingering glance even when her father was promoting Harry to the rest of the table. 

Maybe, he was the reason Harry was in such a rotten mood when he met her in the maze. One of the few times she wished she had stuck around her father's drinking table, if only to know why Harry was insistent on shooting this man daggers. 

"Right, Harry?" her father jested, most likely looking for Harry's confirmation to a deprecating joke at (Y/N)'s expense. 

Blinking in the direction of the man, Harry barely spared a glance to her father. 

"Right," he deadpanned. 

It was the expression on her father's face, obviously thrown off by the lack of enthusiasm on Harry's part, that had her hiding her smile behind a sip from her glass of ice water.

Perhaps this dinner wouldn't be so bad.

—————

With dinner plates cleared and trays of mini desserts being distributed throughout the room, (Y/N) took her first chance at escape. 

Others had started milling about, socializing with drinks in hand before the afterparties that would no doubt last well into the night. It was easy to slip within the masses, the wife of one of her father's friends being one of the only that could have spotted her disappearance. The men at the table were too distracted to even acknowledge her mumbled excusal to go to the restroom—including Harry, even if half of his attention was still placed on the sharp looks he was giving to the man across from him.

Emma and Francesca happily welcomed her back to their table, a couple of other girls they occasionally clubbed with also having pulled up a chair. From where she sat, she could still spot her father's table, his back facing her. She was able to relax then, feeling comfortable around her friends, even when she spotted the photographer from earlier meandering through the tables once more with the camera to his eye. 

They bubbled over the surprise performance over dinner, an impromptu concert from one of the celebrities in attendance, with (Y/N) hoping they ended up at the same afterparty as her so she could get a chance to ask who designed her gown. Francesca shared the person she now had her eyes on, a man she recognized from touring galleries with her mom who was now seated only a few tables away. He was an artist, she decided, way more romantic than any guy with a yacht. Emma and Stavros were very much ready to head to the afterparties with the way they could barely finish a sentence before sealing their lips together. 

"I'm going to go get a drink, do you guys want anything?" (Y/N) asked, standing from her spot with her tiny purse hanging from her wrist. 

Chatters of denial spread over the table, many of the girls having their own drinks or refraining until the afterparties. (Y/N) shot them a smile before turning on her heel and making her way towards the bar. 

The bartender was busy lacing together elaborate themed cocktails for the string of other patrons waiting, leaving (Y/N) to lean against the counter, arms folded on the bartop. She watched the show, enthralled with the mixing of ingredients while in wait. 

Suddenly, she felt a hand touch the small of her back, the boning of her corset stiffening against her skin. (Y/N) jumped where she stood, her breath coming up short. Turning to face whoever spooked her, she recoiled when she saw it was the man that Harry had been shooting daggers at across the table. 

He didn't even look at her as he flagged down the bartender, raising his voice to call across the long bar. (Y/N) stood there, her brain a little too muddled as she watched him speak over her to order a duo of drinks. 

All of her father's friends sucked, but never once has any of them so blatantly disrespected her in public like this. He couldn't wait a few more minutes to get his whiskey and gin and tonic? 

(Y/N) started to pull away then, shaking off his hand as she slunk away from his hovering body. He didn't let her get very far, his hand flexing on her back as he stepped along with her. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he said, a megawatt smile on his face, "I saw you standing here alone and figured it was my chance to finally talk to you." 

"Oh," she sounded, unsure of what to say. More than anything at the moment, she was now annoyed that there was another order before hers, just wanting her cranberry juice-heavy cosmo in her hand. 

"I'm Barron," he told her, dipping his head down as if it was loud enough he needed to whisper in her ear. 

"Nice to meet you," she smiled, her expression practiced, "I'm (Y/N)." 

"I know," he flirted. (Y/N) swore her eye could have twitched.

Just in time, the bartender reached over with a whiskey on the rocks and a crystalline gin and tonic. "Here you are, sir," the bartender smiled, placing both drinks on coasters in front of Barron.

Thankfully, he removed his hand from her back to lean across the bar, relaying the tab information, his voice a little too boastful when spelling out his last name. (Y/N) felt she could breathe easier almost as soon as his hand left her form. Now was her chance: order her drink, and get back to her girls as soon as possible. 

Instead, she saw as the bartender stepped away, relaying back to his previous customers as Barron passed the gin and tonic towards (Y/N). "Here you go, sweetheart." 

Though she was startled, (Y/N) kept her practiced smile on as she stepped back just enough. "No, thank you. I was actu—" 

"I insist," he cut her off, speaking above her with another push of the drink and coaster towards her. His hand returned to her back, caging her in with her front still against the bar. This time, he pressed his palm against the bare skin of her back, his fingers dipping low underneath the scoop of her corset. Unpleasant goosebumps erupted over her skin. "Your dad said you would need someone to keep an eye on you tonight, and I can see your bodyguard is a little busy at the moment. I can take care of this for you instead." 

Her jaw felt tight. Peering over his shoulder, she was able to spot Harry sat with his back facing the bar, just as she left him with her father. 

"Well," she started, chest expanding as she pulled in a deep breath, "Thank you for the drink. My friends are waiting for me, but it was nice to actually meet you." 

Expecting his hand to fall from her, (Y/N) attempted to make her exit. Instead she was offered a stronger grip, his arm a bar across her back. "At least let me talk to you," he laughed, as if he couldn't believe she was trying to slip away, "I got you a drink, I think that's only fair, right?" 

"Oh, I mean," she floundered, reciprocating with a polite laugh, "I should probably get back, though. After I got a drink we were planning on leaving for some afterparties, so." 

He barked out a laugh, bringing his whiskey to his lips as he took in a deep sip. The ice clinked within the glass as she shook his head. "You know, your dad did say you were a bit feisty, but I didn't think you'd be like this." 

Shifting her weight, (Y/N) would have done next to anything to crawl away from this moment. She didn't like the idea of him asking about her to her father; she dreaded to think what kind of stories were told or publications discussed that could have brought up the topic of her being "feisty". 

From the corner of her eye, she spotted the photographer meandering close by. All it would take was a slight struggle, a slight raising of voices, and that camera would no doubt be up to his eye with a high definition photo of the moment splashed across the internet by the end of the night. That wasn't even taking into account the amount of cell phones around the room that could be trained in their direction in a moment's notice. 

As annoying as this man was and how much she was itching to leave her skin over his touch, fighting him further wasn't going to be worth the scene it would cause. Especially not with her father right there; it would be too easy for this man—his friend—to turn this whole thing around on her without any argument from her father. 

All she could do was hope Francesca or any of the other girls noticed she was missing for longer than it could possibly take to grab a drink. 

"Come sit with me," Barron commanded, urging her to roll underneath his arm so he could guide her to a nearby table with vacant chairs. Swallowing, (Y/N) followed along, her smile tight. "Don't forget your drink." 

Her smile grew that much tighter over his words. 

The chilled glass was slick against her palm. 

Barron pushed her into a seat, his hand finally leaving her skin and leaving an overly hot point on her body. Sinking into her chair, (Y/N) tried to create as much space as she could between them, even with the way he leant across the space to enter her bubble. Her hand clenched around the gin and tonic glass. 

"See, not so bad, is it?" Barron teased, taking another sip of his quickly draining glass. 

"Right," (Y/N) let out a humorless laugh, "So, how do you know my dad?" 

This was a trick she learned to get these men off her back. They loved nothing more than to talk about themselves and the things they thought deemed them important. Barron seemed all too excited to talk about his business prowess that led him to her father's "inner circle", surely exaggerating the amount of acquisitions he headed to get him where he was. 

"But, I can't lie," he said, lowering his voice and smirking at her, "I told him I wanted to meet you a month ago, and we've started talking a lot more since. He told me you were having some troubles, and I had a feeling I might be able to help you." 

Reaching across, Barron settled his too warm hand on her knee, his fingertips denting into the soft flesh of her thigh. 

(Y/N) felt her chest tighten at the touch, the way he looked at her over the rim of his glass, as if he were doing her a favor. She was sure he thought she should be grateful to feel his hand on her skin, like this was the first step to getting her through her troubles. 

Her grip around her glass tightened. 

What was she supposed to do now?

She felt trapped. He scooted closer to her over the floor, his hand sliding over her thigh. He even stuck his foot out, playing footsie as if she looked open to flirting. 

Swallowing, she let out a strained laugh, bringing her glass to her lips for no other reason than to buy herself a moment's reprieve. 

She couldn't decipher what would be worse: staying in this situation or causing a scene that would no doubt have her father locking her down in a remote cabin for the winter? 

With the amount of cameras in the room, if she flipped the way her bubbling anxiety urged her to, there was no doubt the last vestiges of her reputation would be burned to the ground. Everything was bad enough already, but there would be no recovery from a documented outburst like the one she could feel brewing. 

A forced laugh fell from her lips, "I guess you could say that." Glancing through the room, she tried to spot Harry. Maybe, he had miraculously turned around and could see what was happening. If she caught his eye, he could put a stop to this. 

He told her all she needed was to look at him, and he would be right there. He could take her away from this. He told her—promised her.

Suddenly, she felt that overly-hot hand that had been on her leg pinch her chin. Barron redirected her strayed attention, forcing her to look right at his smug face. 

"Eyes on me when I'm speaking, babygirl. It's respectful." 

If not for the fact she was close to having an anxiety attack, (Y/N) could only imagine the amount of rage she would feel at his condescending words. 

Instead, all she could feel was his hand too close to her throat, the absolute view of his eyes he was forcing on her. Her skin felt too hot, though she swore goosebumps were rising. Her stomach churned, the corset feeling way too tight around her lungs. 

"Sorry," she swallowed, almost choking around the word though she could tell he didn't even notice. 

In as casual of a way as she could muster, she pushed his hand off of her chin, disguising it as a move to flip her hair over her shoulder. Barron instead settles his hand on her shoulder, fingering the pearls draping over her skin. 

"Good," he said, seemingly pleased with her feigned obedience, "I want to hear about you, though." 

"What do you want to know?" she forced out through a high smile. 

Her heart jumped into her throat, clogging her airways with every brush of his fingers over her skin. She was on the verge of a panic attack. 

One of the only times she ever would have wanted a bodyguard and he's not even here. If her father could shut up for two seconds, Harry could have done the job he was hired for. 

Instead, (Y/N) was left with a pit in her stomach, something that she swore could eat through her dress and absorb her as if it were nothing. How was she supposed to breathe when her organs had to make way for the blackhole in her stomach? How was she supposed to think clearly when her instincts urged her to move along, with nothing else managing to make an impression on her brain? 

This man was pushing her too far. He was touching her too much, looking at her too closely, talking too loudly. 

She needed him to stop. She could barely feel her hands, her toes, her lips. No amount of air in her lungs was enough. 

(Y/N) hadn't even realized Barron was talking until his voice was cut off. A decidedly gentler hand settled on her opposing shoulder. 

"There you are!" Francesca greeted, bending down to (Y/N)'s level with her eyes widening just enough when she made eye contact, "I'm about to head to the bathroom, could you come with me?" 

Without a second thought, (Y/N) released her chokehold grip on the gin and tonic, looking Barron in the eye as she took in the first semi-normal breath in the last handful of minutes. "Sorry, I'll be right back." 

Francesca took (Y/N)'s hand in her own, scurrying to the bathroom in record time. Stepping over the tile floor of the single stall restroom, (Y/N) felt a tingle in her hands, her gaze unable to focus while Francesca locked the door behind them. 

"Hey, what's going on?" Fran questioned, stepping behind her with a cautious hand on her shoulder. "Are you okay?" 

All it took was a flutter of (Y/N)'s lashes and a stuttered breath before everything she was holding back spilled over. A whimper sliced from her throat, her vision blurring. 

"(Y/N)?" 

Spinning on her heel, she couldn't help the way she braced herself against her best friend, Francesca collecting her into a hug as if she might collapse at a moment's notice. 

"I-I don't know," (Y/N) cried, tears slipping down her cheeks, "I—Fran—I'm—Thank you." 

Nothing falling from her lips made much sense, everything too mushy and half-baked as she sputtered. She didn't know how to articulate how uncomfortable Barron was making her feel; how much she wanted to crawl out of her skin, how she felt trapped, how she knew what he did wasn't all that bad—even compared to her own experiences—but she swore she hadn't felt so unsafe since that night with Damien Moore. How was she supposed to get all of that out between gasping breaths and tingling lips? 

Francesca was her pillar at the moment, keeping (Y/N) upright as she held her. "Okay, it's okay," she tried to soothe her, despite her own voice wavering, "I didn't even know, (Y/N). I'm sorry. I would have helped you sooner, if I had." 

"It's okay, it's okay," (Y/N) parroted, sniffling, "I-I think my dad told him to talk to me." 

Francesca muttered something under her breath, which sounded a lot like a string of curse words though (Y/N) hoped it was actually a hex against her father. 

After tightening her hug, Francesca began to pull away from (Y/N)'s melting form. "I'm going to be right back," she told her earnestly, "I'm going to grab my bag and call my driver, and we're going to leave, okay? Your dad isn't even going to know." 

"Okay, okay," (Y/N) repeated in a broken voice, nodding her head, "Thank you." 

Francesca left with a concerned look over her shoulder. 

Circling the drain, (Y/N) couldn't stop pacing around the bathroom, the clack of her heels echoing in her ears. Her mind was running way too fast to keep up. There was no focus she could give to anything when she swore her corset was strangling her. The spots that Barron's slimy hands touched her dirty, gross and sticky in a way only the longest shower could hope to erase. Her head was too muddy, swimming too far away, for anything to make sense.

Striking through it all, she remembered her father was out there. 

God, she was going to be in so much trouble. There was no way she could talk herself out of this one, and with how fragile she felt at the moment, she couldn't imagine making it through a scolding of his like she usually did. Not like this. 

What if he blamed Harry, even? What if Harry was roped into her orbit of trouble, being blamed for the fact she had a breakdown in one of the most inconvenient places? Her father would no doubt reject the fact that he was the reason behind Harry's distraction.

The idea made (Y/N) crumble that much more. These were her problems, and now Harry might be held accountable for the fact she couldn't suck it up over a couple of lingering touches and condescending words. As if she didn't know how to handle it already. 

Memories of this man's hands on her body—along with a quick montage of others in his place before, including Damien Moore—were a thick ocean in (Y/N)'s head. The illusions were only cut with the scolds of her father, lists of things she'd done wrong and could never recover from. 

Through the depths, she could hear distant voices. They were having a muffled argument on the other side of the door, that much she could collect. Every other detail was lost at sea, (Y/N) too busy crumbling by the sink with her breathing too short to be good for her health. 

Suddenly, the voices were much closer, a firm tone telling their partner that "I need to see her, let me in!" She knew she recognized that voice, that firm tone and grumbling accent. (Y/N) knew who was on the other side of the door, but nothing could properly register in her head. 

The door burst open a second later (or it could have been a handful of minutes, time wasn't real in the moment to her). Both Harry and Francesca tumbled through, Harry's brow furrowed and eyes hard while Fran's were boiling in anger. 

"(Y/N), I tried to tell him to—" 

Francesca's voice filtered through the bathroom, though (Y/N) only saw the way Harry assessed the situation. His cool demeanor never wavered as he catalogued the crumbling mess that made her up. The only thing that gave away the fact that this was out of the norm of his routine was the furrow to his brows and determination setting his jaw. 

Taking broad steps over the tile, Harry met her by the sink, his hands gathering hers from where they were fumbling and picking at her middle. 

"Hey, hey," he murmured, his voice somehow louder to her than Francesca's in the background of the moment, "Why aren't y'breathing, (Y/N)? What's going on?" 

"I-I want to leave, Harry, I don't want to be here anymore," she rushed out, her tongue tripping over itself with salty tears traced the shape of her lips. "I don't w-want him to touch me again, I want to go home." 

A tick appeared in Harry's jaw. "Okay," he nodded, features composed as he slipped his hands out from hers to settle them on the curve of her waist. Before (Y/N) could have any kind of reaction to the touch, Harry was lifting her to sit on the edge of the sink, the slit in her dress splitting to reveal one full leg with the other still draped in the silken material. "Before we can do that, I need you to breathe with me. Okay?" 

"I-I can't," she whined, the tenor of her voice echoing in the otherwise silent room. From the corner of her eye, she could see the silhouette of Francesca paces away, quietly watching on. 

"Okay," Harry soothed, his hands taking hers once more, "But I need you to try. We can't go anywhere until you try." 

The idea that she would have to stay here even a moment longer made (Y/N) choke up even more. How could he ask her to do the impossible like this? She just wanted to leave and Harry was making her stay here, pressuring her to breathe as if he thought she could actually manage that. 

"Harry," she cried, her voice broken. 

He shook his head, a stray curl falling from his tousled head of hair. "Just for a minute, yeah? Then we'll leave, I promise." 

When he didn't dare to break the eye contact he was making with her, (Y/N) couldn't do anything but nod her head to his wishes.

"Copy me," he instructed, taking in a deep through his nose, holding, then exhaling through his nose. When he didn't see (Y/N) doing the same, he repeated, "Gotta copy me, (Y/N)." A pulse of his hands around hers gained her attention. 

"Okay," she peeped, nodding with jerky movements. 

Another round of structured breathing came from Harry, his chest expanding with his perfect lips forming an "o" when exhaling. (Y/N) copied him as best she could, her chest straining against her corset and her lips feeling sticky with tears when she blew out. Harry stuck with her even when her lungs stuttered and she sobbed through the exercise. It wasn't until she was able to make five full breaths in a row that Harry relented in his pressing. 

"Feel a little better?" he asked, eyes searching her face. 

(Y/N) took stock of her state, noting the tingling in her fingers and toes had relented, leaving only the aches of a panic lingering in her body. Her head felt a little bloated and her chest tight, but she was doing world's better than she was only a handful of minutes earlier—even if that wasn't a necessarily hard bar to cross. 

She nodded. 

Using his gentle grip on her hands, Harry guided her off the counter, steadying her back onto her heels. (Y/N) had her eyes on her feet, watching the sparkling of her shoes against the immaculate tile of the floor. She really, really, really hoped tonight wouldn't ruin these shoes for her. 

Stepping back into (Y/N)'s line of sight, Francesca looked just as concerned as when she had left the first time. Her purse was now in hand with her phone clutched between her fingers. "Let's go back to my place, okay? I can make sure my driver can be here in five minutes, then we'll leave and we don't have to talk to anyone else." 

Francesca reached out a friendly hand, intending to take her from Harry's hold and back to her like they planned before he tumbled into the bathroom. (Y/N) didn't even realize that she was shying away from her best friend until she felt Harry's hand settle on the top of her back with his arm curling around her. 

"Fran—I—," she floundered, unsure of where her voice went but not trying to find it, "I want to stay with him, I'm sorry." 

Though (Y/N) expected hurt to touch Fran's features, she instead only saw a look of surprise raise her brows and widen her eyes. "That's okay," Francesca reassured her, "Don't be sorry. Just text me when you get home, okay?" 

"Okay," (Y/N) nodded, her hair tickling her bare skin.

Taking a tentative step forward, Francesca held her arms out. "Can I hug you before you leave?" 

(Y/N) didn't say anything before she collected her friend in a clumsy hug, cheek against her shoulder with their hair creating a mess. 

"I'm sorry, Fran," (Y/N) repeated in a hoarse whisper.

"Why are you sorry, don't be sorry," Francesca reminded her, "I just want you to feel safe, that's all." Pulling away, Fran matched her gaze, a soft smile falling on her mocha lined lips. "You look so hot tonight, so you better still post pics." 

It was the way Francesca looked at her so earnestly as if what she was saying was just as important as solidifying her plans to make it home, that had (Y/N) spilling with a huff of laughter. "I will," she sniffled, her cry-swollen mouth, "Love you." 

"Love you, too." 

Francesca parted with her after another squeezing hug, (Y/N) turning to find Harry with his eyes on the ground waiting for her. He peeked at her through the fan of his lashes, noticing her eye on him once more. 

"Ready?" 

All it took was (Y/N) nodding her head before she was reaching for Harry once more, allowing him to take her under his arm and bundle her to his side. 

"We're going to have to fast, okay?" he murmured to her as he pushed the door to the bathroom open, Francesca lingering in the restroom. 

"Okay," (Y/N) repeated, staying still as he peered around the secluded hallway in search of anyone else lurking around the space. 

Once he determined everything was clear, he started her in the direction of the ballroom. (Y/N) stiffened under his arm. Her father was out there. So was Barron. And over a hundred cell phone cameras and a trained photographer with a high quality camera for moments just like these. 

"I know," he crooned to her, the tip of his nose brushing her hair from where she had her eyes trained on the ground, "But 's the only way to get out. There's a back way, we jus' need to get through by the bar, then we'll be alone again. I promise." 

As much as she wanted to stop in her tracks, hide a little while longer, she allowed Harry to guide her steps down the hall. If this was the only way out, she was going to have to endure. 

The dull roar of the Gala filled every space in her body the second they stepped back under the chandelier light of the ballroom. (Y/N) kept her head down, hoping that if she caught anyone's eye, she could at least spare herself the humility of them catching her ruined makeup and swollen eyes. She clutched Harry's hand cupped around her waist. Her anchor. 

Harry guided them through the space, dodging most of the crowd as he took a swift turn, (Y/N) doing her best to stay steady on her feet. His steps didn't falter once. Until they did. 

(Y/N) stopped in her tracks when Harry skidded to a stop, something in their path that she was trying not to panic over. She kept her eyes trained on the pearly hue of her shoes as if she could pinpoint every hue that glimmered off of the expensive fabric.

"Harry, what's going on?" 

Almost jumping out of her skin, (Y/N) whipped her head up to find her father and Barron standing in their way. Her father spoke through gritted teeth, Barron's cheeks too red and eyes too glazed as he didn't even try to hide the way his gaze clung to her form. It's as if he forgot everything that led up to her fleeing from him and now returning with ruined mascara. 

(Y/N) flinched back on instinct. His eyes were almost as bad as his touch. 

Harry was a firm cage around her, keeping her steady as he ignored her father. He dismissed them as he tried to get around them, finding a path between a pair of tables. Her breathing caught in her throat when she saw her father try to reach for her, his hand like a wolven claw meant to drag her away. 

In a moment, Harry had twirled her away, putting her out of range while he acted as a solid wall between them to her. 

"Do not touch her," he gritted out, an undertone to his voice she'd never heard before. He was looking her father right in the eye as he spat out his command, taking him on without a wavering second. 

Her father, taken aback, almost stumbled on his feet. "Excuse me?" he let out. 

Ignoring him once more, Harry shot a sharp look at Barron. The man recoiled as if he had been struck. 

Harry didn't linger a second longer as he took through the tables, getting them back on track as soon as possible. (Y/N) could feel eyes on her, no doubt cameras following suit. This was a moment publication and gossip blogs would rather die than leave out. Tomorrow was going to be a shitshow with the notifications that would blow up her phone, but she couldn't find it in her to care at the moment. 

She only focused on Harry, keeping up with him and keeping her hand in his on her waist. 

Eventually, they stepped into the back hallway. (Y/N) recognized it from the times she'd visited 132 during a regular exhibition; it was the best way to sneak in and out when she didn't want to be spotted. 

Pushing open the heavy door after the hallway forked off into two different directions, Harry pulled (Y/N) into the fresh night air. Though the sky was clear, not a single star could be seen above their heads, the lights too bright to see anything in the heavens. The alley behind the gallery was big enough to allow protected trucks full of art pieces large enough to be considered murals to make through, the space clean enough. Cigarette butts were on the ground, and a dumpster resided on the other side. Still it was enough to please that of the higher clientele that visited the 132 Gallery, though (Y/N) wasn't sure she would care if she were stepping through piles of garbage at the moment. 

She was out. The gallery, her father, Barron, the cameras were all behind her. 

That knowledge alone allowed her lungs to open just a hair more, the rush of oxygen almost choking her. 

"Sully's on his way, okay?" Harry told her, his grip on her lessening now that they were alone, "I told him it was an emergency and he said he'd make it as soon as possible." 

"Okay," she gasped, nodding her head as best she could through her muddied mind. 

"Yeah," she breathed out, her lungs shaky but nothing like before. She just needed to think about every intake, which was a feat in its own, but whatever helped. 

A beat passed, Harry surely keeping track of her breathing. "Thought we stopped crying?" he murmured after a moment, closing in around her with his hands settling on her biceps.

Raising her hand to her cheek, (Y/N) swiped away a stream of tears she hadn't even been aware were leaking out. 

"Me too," she whispered, her voice watery with a pinch to her brows. 

Through the vignette of her tear-clumped lashes, (Y/N) could see the barely there smile on his features. "You've got all that pretty makeup on, remember? Can't keep crying like that when Sully gets here," he crooned, his voice more gentle than she ever thought he could manage. 

He thought her makeup looked pretty. Maybe he wasn't saying that she looked pretty, but it was still enough to loosen her muscles just enough. 

A watery smile fixed itself on her lips. "Yeah," she let out, the word floating on a delicate huff of laughter. 

From behind Harry, a bright beam of light outlined his silhouette. The sound of tires popping over the pavement and the purring rumble of a car engine filled the alleyway. Harry looked over his shoulder, leaving (Y/N) with only a view of the cut and hinge of his jaw, looping curls on the back of his neck. 

The car stopped beside them, Harry not wasting a second before he was gathering (Y/N) in his arms and pulling her into the back of the SUV. She was first in, with Harry following behind her over the leather bench seat. 

(Y/N) couldn't look at Sully when she settled, avoiding the reflection of his gaze in the rearview mirror she was sure that was pointed in her direction. As soon as the pair of them were buckled in—Harry having done hers—Sully was off. They were seamlessly incorporated into the city's traffic, the route back to her apartment, one he knew well and (Y/N) hoped he could quick work of. 

Harry, having forgone the usual buffer he placed between them, shifted in his seat with his thigh pressed against hers. In the back of her mind, (Y/N) knew this should feel like it was too much for her, that she should be shying away from his touch after the gross feeling Barron left her with, but she didn't feel that instinct to revolt. Instead, he was like an anchor, the steadying pillar that followed her about and ensured there was no way she could drift away from shore. 

"Alright?" he whispered, ducking down to peek into her line of sight, "Almost back home." 

She nodded, her brain feeling numb though she was sure there were still tears dripping off her cheeks. Now that the initial wave of panic passed, exhaustion was moving in. She would find out soon if there was going to be an aftershock, a tremor that would wrack through her when the night rushed back to her clear mind. 

Sinking into her seat, (Y/N) tossed her watery gaze out the window. Only a couple of hours prior she was in this same spot, though with perfected makeup and her skin buzzing from anticipation and excitement. Now she only buzzed with the feeling of oxygen reentering her bloodstream. 

God, she couldn't wait to get out of her clothes, and get the pins out of her hair. 

No longer caring, she got a head start and began shakily unraveling her shoes from her feet. Her fingertips fumbled over the latch on the string of pearls around her ankles, but it didn't take long for her to kick off her pumps and curl her knees to her chest. Harry silently reached down and took the Manolo's from the floor, his fingers hooked in the top straps.

When (Y/N)'s building came into view, Sully rolled to a stop just outside the entrance. (Y/N) finally chanced a look at the rearview mirror, her driver's soft eyes matching hers through the glass. 

"Thank you," she peeped, voice broken. 

Sully simply smiled and nodded at her. 

Behind her, Harry urged her out onto the sidewalk with a careful hand on her back. She didn't think twice about her bare feet landing on the burgundy carpet rolled out on the sidewalk before her building, keeping her mind focused on getting up to her apartment. Harry lingered for a moment, the rumble of his voice saying something to Sully, before he was joining her. 

"C'mon," he murmured, grabbing her hand in his. 

Much like he had at the Gala, Harry directed her through the lobby, her hand in one of his with her shoes in the other. He didn't let her linger on what the doormen could be thinking, seeing her with tear stained cheeks and bare feet with her designer gown. He took her straight to the elevator and input the code to her floor. 

For the first time since landing in the bathroom with panic in her chest, (Y/N) noticed the small detail of elevator music. 

Following after him, Harry took her to her apartment, using the key she'd given him weeks ago to let them in. He let go of her hand once they crossed the threshold as he lingered back to lock the door behind them. Looking around her apartment, the rug under her feet, (Y/N) couldn't pinpoint what triggered her, but the sprinkling of tears leaving her eyes elevated to a full downpour.

Her breathing came out in a stuttered pace, a whimper swirling from her chest. There was that aftershock. 

Oh, how this night was derailed. 

In an instant, Harry is there. His arms looped around her, his instincts taking over as she was pulled to his chest. 

"Hey, hey," he crooned to her, "What's going on, what happened?" 

(Y/N) only shook her head against his black suit-covered shoulder. She didn't have a real answer to that, and wasn't interested in digging through the events of the night to give him a full picture at the moment. 

Instead, she focused on his hold. She could feel the bump of her heels on the small of her back, but that didn't keep him from keeping her in a grounding hold. Though he was touching her in the same places that Barron had—her back, her arms, her leg, her chin—Harry's touch didn't feel the same at all. She didn't recoil or expect a film to be left on her pores. 

She all but melted into him, her muscles liquifying like the tears from her eyes. Harry held her up without a second thought, just as he had the rest of the night. 

A pinch took knitted her brows together at the thought, her eyes squeezing shut as more tears fled from her ducts. 

Never did she picture herself needing him the way she did tonight. He was so calm and strong, keeping her from falling to pieces on the bathroom floor. (Y/N) loved Francesca with her whole heart and knew she owed her a phone call before the night was over, but she didn't think her best friend could have controlled the situation and her breakdown like Harry had. 

He stopped her father from touching her, Barron from talking to her. He knew the precise way to make it out with the least amount of disturbance possible. Even letting Sully know to pick them up as soon as possible wasn't something that had even crossed her mind, but that had to have been one of the first things he did when he realized her state. 

She hugged him tighter, her arms around his middle. 

Drawing away just enough to look down at her, Harry scanned her with sparkling green eyes. "Do y'need to breathe with me again?" he asked her, the suggestion gentle and quiet as if there were people around to overhear. 

"N-No," she said, shaking her head, "I just—... Can you stay with me f-for a second?" 

In response, Harry homed her back into his chest. "I've got you," his voice rumbled his chest under her cheek. 

Though it was more than clumsy with missteps and stilted movements, Harry led her to the staircase that ran up to her room. From there, he sat her on the bottom step, with him following closely after. She huddled up to him, Harry's arms curling around her as she sat with her dress splayed around her. 

She didn't know how long she sat there, one of Harry's hands on her shin with his thumb moving in a soothing circuit over the bone, her face in his neck, but no time seemed long enough. The only reason she even dared to begin to pull back was the itching feeling of her clothes wrapped around her body. 

"What do you need?" he asked instantly, ducking down into her space. From this view, she saw a collection of freckles across his nose, faint. 

Swallowing, (Y/N) felt her hair sticking to her wet cheeks, the chunks of desecrated mascara surely mixing with the strands on her skin. 

"I don't want to be in my dress anymore," she said, her voice as loud as she could manage without breaking. "It's too much." 

"Okay," he murmured, giving a small nod, "Okay. I'll help you up to your room, and then y'can change into your pajamas." 

The idea of him leaving her being in her bedroom had the lump in her throat thickening. She could barely keep her hands steady and he wanted her to be by herself?

"I-I can't do it by myself," she whimpered, too far gone to feel embarrassed about asking her bodyguard for help like this. 

"Y'need my help?" he pressed, looking for verification though his gaze didn't waver from her own. 

(Y/N) simply nodded her head. 

His lips thinned but he gave her a confirming dip of his chin before he started helping her stand. He kept his hand wrapped around hers as he pulled her up the steps, (Y/N) following pliantly into her bedroom. 

With a toss, Harry left her shoes in a heap somewhere in her room, but his attention was firmly laced on her. He kept her bedroom door open, the light from the hallway seeping through. 

"(Y/N)?" he voiced, his voice firm, "Can y'look at me?" 

Turning her gaze, she found him looking directly at her as his hand slipped away from hers. She almost wanted to reach for it back, unwilling to let go of that tether. 

"You're okay with me helping y'undress?" he prodded, reiterating the same question she thought she already answered at the bottom of the stairs, "I need you to tell me if you're sure. I'm not going to help unless y'mean it." 

"I-I can't do it by myself, please," she told him. Not once had she made it in or out of this dress by herself, and she couldn't fathom doing that now when her eyes were swollen with tears and her hands fighting off tremors. "I don't want to wear this anymore." 

he looked at her for a beat longer, gaze matching her own. Whatever he saw in there must have been enough for him to give her a small nod. "Okay. Tell me what to do." 

"Just get the zipper," she told him, facing her back towards him where the scooping line of her dress made it that much harder for her to reach the tiny mechanism. 

Silently, Harry stepped behind her, her hair already up and pulled away when she reached towards her. The hook at the top of the form was the first to go, his fingertips brushing the same swatch of skin Barron had violated. Taking the zipper down, every tooth that was pulled apart allowed her lungs to fill deeper with air. (Y/N)'s eyes fluttered closed at the feeling, her dress loosening around her shoulders. 

Pressing her hands to her chest, she kept the bodice of her dress up once Harry reached the bottom of the line. 

"Can y'breathe better?" Harry murmured behind her, his words fanning across her skin. His breath felt cool against her skin. 

"Uh-huh," she exhaled, her shoulders relaxing into a gentle slope, "Thank you." 

She heard him murmur a good in response though he hesitated where he stood. "Do y'need any more of m'help? Or do y'want to be alone now?" 

The idea of Harry leaving her, setting her to be alone in the dark of her room, the city skyline dusky out the window. She feared his hands were the only things keeping her from falling apart. 

"Help," she answered simply. 

Wordlessly, Harry assisted her in pulling down her dress, her back facing him as it became an ethereal puddle at her feet. Dom was going to kill her when he found out she let the gown touch the floor. 

The nude forms of her shapewear and barely there bra was all that was left on her body as she kicked away her dress, the corset now structureless and folded with pearls a mess around. 

(Y/N) didn't even think before she was pulling down her shapewear, the compression just another layer too much. 

"I—" Harry coughed from behind her, his voice cutting short, "I'm going to get y'some clothes." 

Her skin heated when she realized the way she had so carelessly began undressing in front of him. She was so used to having a team be there when she prepped and redressed from this, the shyness accompanying undressing and pulling layers off her body no longer lingered in moments like these. But, Harry wasn't a member of those teams, and this obviously wasn't the kind of thing he had anticipated when he obliged to stay and help her. She hoped she hadn't scarred him with the way she was almost completely nude in front of him. 

At the same time, she couldn't curb the urge to get these pieces off of her body. She wanted to be rid of the night, the touches, the layers of herself that fell victim to her father's pressures to stay perfect at all times. The sooner that could happen, the sooner she would feel like herself again. 

By the time Harry returned from her closet, an oversized shirt and a pair of her pilates shorts in hand, she was down to her thong with her hands holding up the push-up cups of her bra. She almost jumped out of her skin when she saw him move out of the corner of her eye, his steps faltering before he trained his gaze on the ground. 

"I'll leave these here for you," he mumbled, the set of clothing being dropped on the edge of her mattress. He brought his knuckle up to brush against the tip of his nose, "I'll be outside your door. Come find me when you're done." 

When the door shut behind him, (Y/N) was sealed away by herself. Her room became a vacuum, the air sucked out in a way that only felt calm. 

Left in only her underwear, she allowed her bra to drop to the floor as she fell back on her mattress. She stared up at the ceiling, her chest rising and falling with the light of the city filtering through her balcony in hazy beams. 

This is her apartment. She's in her bed. She was in her skin. Her clothing was waiting at the end of her bed. 

(Y/N) eyes fell closed as relief flooded through herself at the mantra. Everything around her was hers. No one could take any of this from her. This peace was hers to hold. 

Tomorrow she would be worried about the stories that would be spun, her father's reaction to everything that had transpired, what consequences would follow this breakdown. But that was for tomorrow. Tonight, she was going to relish the sense of safety, that for a second she worried she would never experience again (that panic in her tummy was rooted deep). 

She needed to text Francesca.

While she would have preferred to give her a call, there wasn't enough energy in her body for something like that. 

Instead, (Y/N) lethargically redressed into her pajamas. Her top slouched around her form, the neckline wide and sleeves draping. Her shorts were well worn and stretchy from the many pilates sessions they accompanied her to. Taking her phone after she was settled into her skin, she typed out a text to Francesca. 

    thank you for helping tonight. harry got me home a little bit ago so I'm alright. I love u so much fran thank you thank you thank you

The second she pressed send, the confirmation that the message was delivered popping up, (Y/N) dropped the device among the folds in her duvet to find Harry. 

Whipping the door open, she found Harry just outside her bedroom door. His suit jacket had been discarded somewhere in her apartment, his tie missing as well. Now he was left with the top couple of buttons undone of his shirt and his shirt sleeves now loose around his forearms. The tattoos she spotted the first day they met were back on display, roses and mermaids and bugs and script. 

That peace she found in her bedroom strengthened at the sight of him. 

"Y'alright?" Harry asked, his posture straightening from where he had leant against the wall. 

"Yeah," she murmured, stepping over the threshold, "I-I can breathe, finally." She swallowed, taking in the state of his messed hair and flush to his cheeks. She knew what the night looked like from her end, but she could only imagine the kind of trouble he went through. "I'm sorry." 

Harry shook his head, lips thinning at her apology. "Don't be sorry," he affirmed, reaching a careful hand out, "C'mon." 

Laying her palm in his, (Y/N) was ready to follow wherever Harry wanted to take her. She padded after him as he escorted her to her bathroom, the space littered with beauty products and a bay window showing off the light of the city through the frosted glass. 

"Let's get your makeup off and hair down, yeah?" he asked her, meeting her eyes through the glass of her mirror as he flicked on the overhead lights. 

"Yes, please," she nodded, her voice heavy with fatigue now that the come down was beginning to settle in. "I'll start with my makeup if you'll get my hair?" 

"Sounds like a plan," Harry murmured, a shadow of a smile touching the corners of his lips. 

A comforting silence settled in the air, Harry concentrating on breaking the hold of the can of hairspray that was used on her styled hair. A furrow appeared in his brow from where she spied him in the mirror. 

"Let me know if I hurt you," he mumbled, picking bobby pins out of her strands. He only worked with gentle hands, fingertips brushing her scalp. 

Now it was her turn to feel a curling grin tease the corners of her mouth. "Okay." 

Pulling her removal balm from her drawer, she spread the oil across her fingertips and began shedding the layers of ruined makeup from her skin. In the back of her mind, she wanted to care about Harry seeing her with raccoon eyes and greasy skin, but she was sure he'd already seen her much worse earlier in the night. Nothing could scare him away at this point, even if she knew it was more for job security than anything that had to do with her. Besides, she didn't mind showing him this part of herself; he was her safety net tonight. 

More and more of her strands broke free while (Y/N) peeled her lashes off, a damp cloth being used to get the removal balm off of her skin. Her pores and blemishes were on display once more, her skin breathing after being caked under powders and rivers of tears. Her scalp felt sore with every bobby pin Harry took out, a pile accruing on the counter. 

"Can I ask what happened back there?" Harry piped up, breaking the silence that had settled like a fog over the room. His usual deadpan tone softened into something malleable and soft, gentle to her ears. 

(Y/N)'s lips thinned at the question. She knew how to answer the question, but it was more of a matter of if she wanted to hear the answer after already living it. She bought herself time as she swiped her face with an extra cleansing water, her reusable cotton pad soft against her skin. 

From her view in the mirror, she saw as he kept his eyes trained on her hair, fingers tracing through the strands comb out the twirled mess made earlier in the night. 

"I know y'might not want to tell me because we aren't... friends, but even as someone who's meant to look after you, it would help to know just so I can protect you better next time," he mused, his voice gentle. 

"Franny didn't tell you?" 

A beat passed. "I want to hear it from you, (Y/N)." 

Harry kept her steady when her weight shifted on her feet. His hands in her hair dropped to settle on her biceps, his eyes returning hers in the mirror. She felt his eyes scanning over her face. Whatever he found there had his jaw hardening, his resolve strengthening from where he stood behind her. "You're not there anymore, (Y/N). It's all over, don't forget." 

She nodded her head, taking in a wavering breath through her nose. "Right, um," she started, her fingers fiddling with the sewn edge of her cotton pad, "It was that guy, at our table. The one sitting on my dad's other side. He found me at the bar when I was getting a drink, and he just didn't really listen. He bought me a drink and kept wanting to talk to me even when I was saying I wanted to go back to Emma and Francesca." 

With his hands resuming in her hair, Harry listened along. "Right," he murmured, his voice now holding an edge that had previously been melted away. She had a feeling he knew bits and pieces of this story, and it only made it that much harder to hear it from her mouth. 

"He kept touching me, and talking to me like I was stupid. It wasn't that bad, it just felt wrong—it made me feel gross." She swallowed around her dry throat, grateful for the lack of makeup on her face, her tears now welling over clean lashes. "I tried to leave, but I knew people were around and my dad would have been so mad if I made a scene. I tried to find you but I think my dad was talking to you so you couldn't see me, and the girls were busy, and there was a camera guy going around and taking photos. I couldn't... I let him keep touching me, but I was getting so nervous and it was all too much." 

With her hair finally down and free from the style it was put in, Harry noticed the shine of her tears falling down her cheeks once more. He didn't hesitate before he was spinning her around, looping his arms around her to collect her to his chest. 

"I know, I know," he murmured to her, her own hands curling in the fabric of his black shirt, "'S over now, though, right?"? 

"Right," she breathed, voice a bit hoarse.

His hand petted her hair, the strands fluffy now that the hairspray was broken but still holding the heat style she was given. She couldn't wait to wash her hair when she had the energy, already missing the natural texture. 

"Y'said it was the man sitting beside your dad? Barron?" 

"Mhm," (Y/N) whimpered at the sound of his name. "I guess my dad had told him I needed to be taken care of, and I think he told him other m-mean things about me." 

Her words dissolved into a string of sobs, Harry going tense against her. She couldn't help herself, sniffling and crying against his chest, her breathing coming in erratic puffs. She felt guilty, feeling him tense around her. She didn't mean to upset him. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she babbled, pulling away to look at him with a crinkling sniffle of her nose, "To-Tonight has been a lot. Thank you for helping me." 

(Y/N) attempted to unravel herself from his hold, only to be stopped by his arms caging around her middle. "It's okay, don't apologize to me," he told her earnestly, matching his gaze to her blurry one, "Thank you for telling me, but I want to make something very clear right now." 

Nodding, she looked up at him, watching as he ducked down into her space, crowding around her with intensity in his eyes. 

"If y'ever feel uncomfortable or like you're in danger, for whatever reason—I don't care if you think it's not that bad, or your father will be upset, or whatever reason you think is good enough to stay in that moment—you are going to leave." His words were a command hiding behind a gentle tone. He was unwavering in his stance, that much she could glean. "I don't care what you have to do, what kind of 'scene' y'have to make, come find me if 'm not right there. Whatever will make you feel safest, that's what I want you to do. Don't ever feel like you have to put up with anything that upsets you for whatever reason.

"You matter more than whatever cover story or photos someone could make up. Okay? Don't ever think it's the other way around." 

(Y/N) couldn't hold back the tears that fell down her cheeks, her skin stained and chin dripping with every drop.  Her father had never said or even made her feel like putting herself first was an option, that she was the one variable in these stories that deserved a bit of protection. There was even a brief period of time when she had a publicist, and he never said anything close to what was coming out of Harry's mouth. 

Everyone else around her had always shared the importance of what those around her thought, what could be said about her, the kind of stories that could be splashed across the pages. Her feelings, her safety, herself was always at the bottom of that list. 

"Okay?" Harry prodded, his hands on her back flexing with fingertips denting the planes of her back, "Do y'understand what 'm saying?" 

"I do," she choked out,  lips quivering. Even blurry through her tears, dressed in all black and exhaustion on his features, Harry was the most gorgeous person she'd ever seen. An angel in the frosty light of her bathroom. "Thank you." 

Harry only tugged her closer to his chest, cupping her back of her head where she snuggled in and allowed tears to run from her eyes. 

(Y/N) clung to him tighter. 

—————

Waking in her bed, duvet in folds around her with her pilates shorts chucked on the floor beside her discarded gown, (Y/N) blinked her stiff eyelids open. She couldn't be sure what time it was when she stalked to her bedroom, only remembering the ache in her muscles and stuffy nose. Harry had stayed with her all night, soothing her through the bouts of tears and being there when all she needed was to not be alone. 

Stretching out of her bed with her feet hitting the floor, she couldn't remember if Harry had stayed after she fell asleep. She was barely aware of her own body when she shed her shorts and flopped into her bed, too exhausted to even crawl under the covers. 

Stepping over her cold floor, (Y/N) crept out into the hallway, peering down the bend. Just barely, she could see a folded suit jacket and the first strands of curling brown hair from where she could spot the end of her couch. The closer she came to the living room, the closer she came to letting a smile settle on her features. 

How he could manage it, she didn't know, but it was very much in his character to sleep with his brows pinched and arms crossed over his chest. He didn't look like he was resting particularly well, his suit jacket acting as his pillow as he threw himself into an odd shape to lay on her couch.

He stayed. 

A heat bubbled under her skin at the thought. Despite the wringer she put him through the night before, he stayed here. Though she wasn't exactly sure how she would navigate the conversation that would have to occur when he woke, how she would handle knowing that he saw those most vulnerable parts of her, at least she knew she wasn't alone. 

Letting him stay where he was, (Y/N) silently moved past him to her kitchen. She could start to say thank you by making him breakfast, she decided. If anything, it might be a good enough distraction to push off the conversation a bit longer when he woke. 

She fell into her element as she pulled out the ingredients, feeling her muscles relax and joints loosen. Trying to be as quiet as she could so as to not disturb the sleeping beauty on her couch, she pulled the dish together as she went. Slices of toast were warming in a butter skimmed pan while she raided her spice rack. From her fridge she pulled eggs and chorizo, cheese and hashbrowns until she came up with a scramble. A rich and lemony hollandaise started on her stove, her apartment filling with toasted spices and the sizzling pop of the chorizo looking. She hoped he would appreciate the extra shred of manchego she stirred in.

With her mind running around the kitchen, timing and anticipating everything, she felt okay. She knew there had to be more than a handful of notifications on her phone, too many articles with her name tagged, and her father scheming her punishment, but, right now, she was content in living in this moment. She could wash her hair later, answer her phone calls, and explain to Dom that she didn't mean to let the Vivienne gown wrinkle on the floor. Before then, she would allow her only consequences to be the ache in her bones and the crust in the corners of her eyes. 

Adding the final seasonings and beginning to plate everything, (Y/N) shifted her attention to the other consequence laying on her couch. She really hoped he liked what she made. 

Adding the hollandaise over the hashbrown bowl, (Y/N) finished up with adding the slices of crusty toast to the rim of the bowl. She placed them on her rarely used dining table, hesitating at the chair beside where she determined Harry would sit before backtracking and placing her own serving in the seat across. 

Now was the hard part. 

Padding over the rug, she made her way to the couch, Harry's restless form still stiff where he laid. With the top buttons of his top undone, the tan skin of his chest was on display, the necklace she had noticed time and time again, the pendants finally on display. The faces of a duo of birds inked on his chest peeked out, matching the dark black of his outfit. He even fell asleep with his shoes on. 

He did all that work to make sure she was comfortable—getting her out of her dress, helping her take her hair down, reminding her to wash her makeup off—only to fall asleep with his suit jacket as a pillow and his event clothes wrapped too tight around him. 

Crouching beside him, she sat on her folded knees. His profile was on display this way, the line of his nose and curl of his lashes highlighted through the sunny window. 

Using a gentle hand, she cautiously settled her palm on his tensed shoulder. "Harry," she murmured. She gave a minute shake to his shoulder. 

Harry woke up with a start, his reaction much quicker and more drastic than she had expected. He sucked in a big breath, his eyes flying open as he sat up, his hands reaching behind to prop himself up. She could see the recognition settle over his features, his eyes frantically searching over her face with his mouth in a soft gape. 

"(Y/N)," he breathed out. 

Having sat back some when he startled, her hands in a bundle in her lap, she blinked up at him. "Sorry," she started, "I just... I made you breakfast, if you were hungry." 

Disoriented, he ran a heavy hand through his hair as he shifted where he sat. The suede cushions fluffed up, the fibers mimicking waves around him. "Yeah?" he asked, moving to sit properly with his feet on the ground and knees wide apart.

Still on her knees, she looked up at him, his hair a mess and chest heaving as he caught his stressed breath. She opened her mouth to say something, but every thought was ripped from her head when her front door was flung open. 

Whipping around, she almost jumped out of her skin when she saw her father stepping inside. His face was twisted in anger, wearing a suit too nice for this early in the morning, and his eyes as daggers trained right on her. 

He stomped over the threshold, coming towards where she was still folded on the floor. 

"Dad!" 

Ignoring her voice, she saw him finally take in the scene. For the first time he seemed to realize Harry was there. With (Y/N) on her knees in front of him. His clothes were a rumpled mess, the same ones from the night before. His chest rising and falling from his startled good morning, hair a stressed mess. 

(Y/N) could practically see his blood pressure rising through his body, his hair standing on end when he returned his gaze to hers. He was seething, taking his assumptions from the scene before him. 

"Are you fucking kidding me, (Y/N)?" he hissed, his hands practically shaking at his sides. He towered over her, even from where she sat feet away. "What do you think you're trying to do to him!?" 

Scrambling to stand up, she was already shaking her head in denial. This wasn't the kind of scolding she was going to be able to sit through. 

"What? I'm—No, that's not—" 

He shook his head, his jaw stiff. He seemed to bite his own tongue, stopping himself from saying anything more. "We will have to talk about that later," he cemented, "Because you need to tell me what the hell you were thinking last night." 

While she knew this was coming, she honestly expected more of a phone call. She thought he would be too angry to even look at her. He'd never been angry enough to burst into her home and yell at her there. He much preferred his home turf, where he controlled all the power. 

Swallowing, she tried to calm her racing heartbeat. "I know it looks bad, but I promise I didn't mean—" 

"I don't want excuses!" he shouted, cutting her off despite the fact he was the one that invited her to talk in the first place. "I'm tired of you embarrassing me every chance you get! I always knew you'd be crazy like your mother, but I didn't think it would be this fucking bad." 

(Y/N) recoiled at the mention of her mother. He rarely talked about her unless in punishment, but he hadn't said anything so blatantly evil about her. 

She didn't know what to say. This is why he never told her about the racing in her heart and the stress that filled her without permission. She didn't want him to think of her as crazy, something that needed to be medicated and put away. But, she supposed now, he didn't need to know that information to say that about her. 

Her father took a menacing step towards her, his expression that much more angry after her silence. 

In an instant, Harry was sliding between them, his back facing (Y/N) with his height obscuring her view of her father. "Sir," Harry started, a warning to his tone that had to come from years of dealing with pests. 

It was her father's turn to take a step back, (Y/N) just barely catching the way he rolled his eyes. Harry's interference only set him off further, it appeared. 

Speaking around the wall that was Harry, he yelled to (Y/N), "How am I supposed to trust him now, after I saw what you were trying to do to him. What did you do last night that convinced him that you needed protecting from me when you're the problem!" 

Harry took a step towards him, a hand out as if to soothe a vicious animal while barring him from coming any closer should he attempt. "Sir, I think it's best if you step outside for a moment." 

Ignoring Harry's plea, he only craned his neck to ensure (Y/N) could see him when he yelled again. "I always knew you'd end up a whore," her father seethed, "But you only seem to like it best when it's a way to get back at me." 

With that, Harry didn't hesitate before grabbing her father by the arms and twisting him away. He escorted him out the door of her apartment, pushing him over the threshold with a slam of the door behind them. 

Muffled shouts started on the other side of the door, her father's voice the one that was raised. She couldn't pick out individual words, but she figured that was probably for the best. She didn't need to hear any more of what he thought of her. 

Staving off a replay of last night's breakdown, she sunk to the floor, her legs a tangled puddle underneath her. Her hands shook in her lap, matching the cadence of her lungs as she fought to keep her breathing even. 

Suddenly, a loud bang against her door rang through her empty apartment. Tears filled her eyes. 

The blaring noise was compounded with a stretch of silence. The low timber of Harry's voice rose then, though his was layered with the typical composure he always had, even in the face of someone as unreasonable as her father. 

The silence gave too much room for her thoughts to grow, her head bloated and heavy. 

In an odd way, she was grateful he was as angry as he was. He was too upset, his vision too red, to say anything properly damaging. If he had been thinking any clearer, she worried she would have a plane ticket to Sweden in hand and all credit cards in her name shredded. 

While this morning was bad, it definitely could have been worse, she decided. 

She couldn't be sure how long she sat on the floor, waiting for whatever would emerge back into her apartment, but soon enough the doorknob twisted with the hinges gliding open. Harry was the only one to step inside, her father missing from the hallway when she glanced around. 

His cheeks were red, hair in an even sorrier state than before, but he kept that same calculated set to his irises. He didn't hesitate to crouch to her level, his brows pinching as he met (Y/N)'s eyes. 

"Are you okay?" he asked, intensity laced through his voice. 

(Y/N) nodded her head, stray hairs curtaining around her face. "Sorry about everything he said. I-I don't know where he—why he—" 

Harry shook his head, his jaw ticking. He dropped his gaze from hers as he shuttered them in a lingering blink. When he dared to glance up at her once more, he said, "No, don't apologize for him. I jus'... (Y/N), I think 's best if I go home, now." 

Instinctively, she wanted to question him. She wanted to investigate his reasoning and attempt to make him stay. He was her solid pillar, the buoy keeping her afloat. She worried what she would do without him for the first time in twenty-four hours. 

But, she couldn't blame him. Her father just accused her of trying to seduce him to wriggle into his head, with whatever else he shared behind that closed door. She could only imagine just how uncomfortable he was now in her presence, both his employer and client having varying breakdowns in front of him. 

"Okay," she settled, dropping her eyes to her hands. At least the tremor stopped. "Thank you for staying with me last night." 

Giving a curt nod, Harry stood to his full height. He moved silently around him, stoic as ever as he collected his suit jacket and cell phone. His footsteps seemingly echoed in the otherwise silence of her home. 

She wasn't even sure if he looked at her again before he slipped out the front door, leaving her alone. 

—————

Dad

    I have a flight scheduled to take you to Paris in a week. You can't be trusted here to stay out of trouble, even with Harry's help. You will be staying through to the winter, and I hope you take this time to reflect on what you've done and how you plan on fixing your attitude. 

     Harry will be accompanying you, but I expect you to keep your relationship strictly professional with him. Don't squander this time away, (Y/N).

     I will check in soon to ensure things are going well. 

(Y/N) felt heavy reading her father's string of texts. 

Today had been enough of an obstacle already, and now she had to plan to be out of the country well after Summer had ended. 

She didn't bother to type a response, only reacting to the top message with a thumbs up. 

Falling back on her bed, the mattress bouncing under her spine, she stared up at the ceiling. 

She was going to have to call Francesca. 

—————

"Is there anything I can grab for you, Ms. (Y/N)?" 

A pleasant smile curled over (Y/N)'s lips, the bags under her eyes shielded by the heavy pair of sunglasses perched on her nose. "No, thank you." 

The flight attendant scurried away at her dismissal, all too eager to practically sprint away. While this crew wasn't especially friendly with her, always seeming a little too scared of her, there was definitely a difference in how attentive they'd started for this flight. They'd no doubt seen the articles that had been swirling for the last week. 

She couldn't blame them, honestly. Reviewing the articles herself, she was painted as an out of touch socialite, a woman who flipped out after a perceived slight. There were photos of her speaking to Barron, the moment having been described as the final moments before the blowup. The drink clutched in her hand was blown out of proportion, insiders and onlookers dishing out how she'd been drinking the whole night despite those two sips of the gin and tonic being the only alcohol she partook in the entire Gala. 

The men around her were painted as heroes, including Harry. Her father and Barron were trying to talk her down from her drunken antics, urging her to calm and remind her of the cameras watching. Harry was doing the chivalrous thing and helping her out of the event before she stumbled around and humiliated herself more than she already had. Some sources even became so bold as to claim that the reason she snuck away to the bathroom for so long, others checking on her, was because of a drug problem she was hiding behind closed doors. 

All of it was her fault. She was being unreasonable, and rude. Untamable and embarrassing. Crazy, even. 

The webs were spun so well, including the official photographs along with blurry photographs posted by anonymous social media accounts. Every story looked worse than the last. 

Even knowing the truth, seeing those photos gave (Y/N) a deep sense of humiliation she couldn't shake. 

Seeing an outsider's perspective, the way she clung to Harry with messy hair and swollen eyes, crying over him and using him like some kind of shield. She couldn't believe he had stayed with her after the way she acted—and those were only the things that occurred in public. 

If that wasn't bad enough, after the fashion magazine's interview was posted along with the event's photos and stories, Harry was now having articles written about him. People were digging into his private life, hunting down any kind of hint of who he was, what he meant to (Y/N). Most likely, some were even hoping to get into contact with him and earn and exclusive. She couldn't blame him if he took someone up on the offer. 

It was all her fault. 

Maybe that was why this past week, she hadn't heard from him at all. To be fair, she hadn't gone anywhere, preferring to keep out of the public eye while the gossip circulated. Francesca met her at her apartment instead, helping her with everything; they packed a small bag to get her through her traveling, cried, bitched about her dad, and had a two day sleepover before (Y/N)'s exile began. She was the only one (Y/N) told, knowing it would get to the rest of the girls in a matter of time, only after she had disappeared for a good few weeks. 

That left (Y/N) with a small go-bag, a full wardrobe and duplicates of her favorite things already waiting at the French penthouse, sweats on her form and embarrassment too deep to coax Harry into interacting with her. 

She felt stiff where she sat, imagining what the stew crew was whispering about her just out of earshot, imagining what Harry was thinking about her as he refused to even glance at her despite the orientation of their chairs. She couldn't relax in her skin. She was too in her head to manage something like that. 

Though (Y/N) was happy to get out of New York, these circumstances were killing any joy she could tie to the change in scenery. Paris was one of her favorite places in the world, her penthouse securing a special spot in her heart, but her father wanted to turn it into a prison. he wanted to ruin another safe place for her. It sucked. 

And, the one person she was too embarrassed to even properly look at, was the one person accompanying her through it all. Her new roommate was the same guy that she was being accused of sleeping with out of anger at her father, out of her rampant sexual desire that kept her from staying with any one person for too long, or a cute decoration that was placed around her to give her clout. At least that's what the rumors swirling around were.

Heaving a sigh and crossing her legs, (Y/N) wanted to be surprised that Harry didn't even flinch in her direction, instead she felt just a sting of hurt behind her ribs. 

—————

"You know where the house is?" 

"Yes," Harry answered, his response curt as he shifted the car into drive. 

(Y/N) couldn't blame his short reply, she wasn't being particularly warm either. 

Instead, she silently settled into her seat, conflicted on how to feel. She'd never really travelled without a driver. Even if it wasn't Sully since he stayed in the city with his family, there was always someone else that took care of her wherever she went. This time, it appeared Harry would be in charge of that. 

Most likely at her father's request, she figured. Now there was no reason for her to be away from him for even ten minutes. Her babysitter extraordinaire. 

Shifting her gaze out the windscreen, she took in the emerging city. It had been a while since she was away from the lights and the skyscrapers, the crowds of tourists. While Paris wasn't quite as quant as the movies made it out to be, it was definitely different from that of New York. There was more breathing room. 

Her dad always thought it was too slow, too boring, a place to spend a single day in before moving on to something much newer and exciting. Maybe that was why it became one of her favorite places, her first request when she was old enough being that she could find a penthouse in Paris. She knew he wouldn't want to follow her here. 

Harry drove like an expert through the winding streets, a GPS screen hooked up to show him the way to her penthouse, though she doubted he needed it. He kept his gaze shifting through the cycle of peering out the window, checking his mirrors, and glancing in the rearview. He didn't waver in his routine, as if (Y/N) wasn't even there. 

The familiar lead up to the neighbourhood of Saint-Germain had (Y/N) sitting up. She couldn't wait to lock herself away in that top floor penthouse. 

Taking advantage of the free space not too far from the entrance to the building, Harry pulled in in one smooth motion. The click of the gear shifter settled them into park. He pulled the key after a beat, finally shooting her a fleeing glance. 

"I'll grab the bags and follow you," he directed, not waiting before he was pushing open his door and stepping out onto the street. 

She followed suit, pushing her sunglasses to the top of her head. 

Upon her first deep breath in, (Y/N) wondered if she had been away for long enough to convince herself the air really did smell like butter and wine the way poets always described.

There were still a good amount of tourists given the neighborhood's proximity to various landmarks, but this place was worlds different in comparison to the city. She hoped her father knew she was enjoying her punishment. 

Harry, with their bags in hand, waited for her to take the lead. She gave him a careful smile before she breezed past him, leading them to the entrance of her building. This place was much different than that in the city, no doorpeople around and only a small bank of two elevators beside the various mailboxes. 

Once in the lift, she entered them in to be taken to the top floor. Harry was a silent pillar beside her, his luggage and her duffle bag in hand. She swallowed around the silence. 

The top floor was all for her, the space being bought by her father by the time she was twenty. Knocking down the walls, the three separate apartments were turned into one big space that was gutted and turned into an immaculate penthouse. (Y/N) fought to keep as many of the original features as she could. 

Stepping inside the space, her efforts were rewarded with the sight of the off-white walls, texture embedded in the slabs. Wrought-iron fixtures were littered throughout, the original doors and biggest kitchen left as it was. Everything held the air of romance, the space a lot more intimate than small than what she had in New York. A trio of different balconies were stationed on the outside, those terraces offering views of the Eiffel Tower. 

It was lovely. That was the only way she could describe it. The kind of place that deserved to be draped in roses and lit exclusively in candlelight. Late nights and Burgundy wine with silk dresses. 

Harry followed her as she stepped towards a plane of French doors, the glass frosted to keep prying eyes out. "This is my room," she told him, voice detached, "But down that hall are a couple of spare bedrooms and bathrooms, so you can pick whatever one you want." 

Dropping her duffle on the floor, he gave her a single nod. "Okay." 

With that, he turned on his heel. She watched as he started down the hall, leaving her with a single syllable. 

She needed to say something. As distant as she was acting because of her embarrassment, she couldn't not acknowledge what happened. Every time she looked at him, she saw  those photos of her clinging and crying on him, her mascara a mess while he looked at her with sympathy. She saw the way he tended to her hair in the mirror, using his fingers to break the hold of the hairspray and gently pick out the bobby pins holding the style in. She saw him defending her against her father. 

"Harry?" she peeped, eyes fixed to his back. 

"Hm?" He stopped, looking at her over his shoulder. 

Taking a step towards him, her hands a fumbling mess behind her back, she swallowed. "I wanted to say thank you again for last week. Especially after everything. And for defending me," she started, her gaze dropping to the middle of his back, "I'm sorry I acted that way, and how I have been acting. I know I can be unreasonable, so it means a lot that you stayed with me and still came here with me. I hope this isn't too bad of a place to be exiled." 

She tried to go lighthearted, ending with a breathy laugh that didn't quite reach her eyes. 

Harry only looked at her with a pinched brow, his arm dropping the bag he had slung over his shoulder. "I... I don't think I understand." 

Clamming up, (Y/N) felt too exposed. She waved him off, shaking her head in hopes of dismissing all that she shared. "Don't worry about it," she said, "Just thank you for looking out for me, and I promise I'm going to make your job as easy as possible while we're here. Hopefully, I'll be able to get you home before the holidays." 

A silence settled between them. Harry didn't offer any kind of response, only his eyes following her. She shifted her weight where she stood, her fingers knotting behind her back. 

She inched towards her room, the space feeling too heavy as her words hung in the air. 

"I think I'm going to unpack and take a nap," she murmured, offering a barely there smile, "We can order food later if you want, but I don't plan on doing anything, so the rest of the day is yours." 

With that, she slipped between her open French doors, the warmth of her room enveloping her once she sealed the rest of the penthouse out. She didn't want to see if Harry was still standing there, watching her with eyes that were too observant. 

She took in a deep breath, shifting her gaze through her bedroom. Her eyes landed on the open drapes to her balcony. Outside, the Eiffel Tower shimmered.

—————

ephemere is the French words for a fleeting beauty; a summer love, a shooting star, greatness gone too soon

this part is def one of the longer ones of the series so thank you so much for getting through it! sorry for any mistakes and if you have any ideas or thoughts please send them in!

#writing #harry #harry styles #harry one shot #harry imagine #harry blurb #harry au #bodyguard harry #harry x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles au #bodyguard harry styles #love on tour #pleasing #harrys house #as it was #satellite

[henneseyhoe]

I JUST READ THE MELO SMUT🥵🥵so good can you do another one we’re he’s obsessed with the reader like he’s always posting her and showing her love or even like him being overly obsessed and a little dark

CLOSER.

Lamelo x BLACK!FEM!reader.

WARNINGS:!!SLIGHT CNC!!, daddy kink, stalking, mentions of blood and death, k!dnapping, mentions of mental health, kn!fe play(kinda), breeding if you squint, crying(as always), reader is a tad bit delusional, no protection(wrap it before you tap it)

Ps. I feel like being a perfectionist and overthinking fucked this up for me but I can’t keep holding this damn request hostage 😩 so I hope you still enjoy this, it’s LONG lmfao.

Pss. I thought I lost this request, whole time I just had to scroll down LMFAOOO

✮✮✮✮

“Damn, girl. This like the fiftieth love note you’ve gotten this month!” Karina exclaims, looking down at the stack of notes on Y/Ns counter, the girl adding one more from today into the pile. Truthfully, Karina had been sick of seeing them, disgusted by the amount she got weekly. “Girl, stop! It’s not…maybe fortieth” Karina makes a face, side eyeing Y/N with slight scornful expression. She was more than weirded out at the creepy gestures not moving her friend even a bit. Karina on the other hand, got goosebumps even looking at the letters. They were creepy to her, and every time she read one about this mysterious person confessing their love to her bestfriend, she grew more concerned for her wellbeing. “Like that makes a difference, Y/N. You don’t find this shit kinda..weird?” Y/N shrugs, not seeing the point in looking deeper than the notes themselves. A part inside of her liked the attention she got.

“No, not really. It’s kinda sweet!”

“Sweet?! this man, woman, thing, whatever the fuck! Has been writing to you for almost five months now and has not shown their face. You don’t think that’s creepy?”

“I dunno. Maybe they shy, Karina”

“Nuh-uh. I don’t trust it, I don’t like it. What if it’s your ex?” Y/N laughs, taking her jacket off and setting it on a coat hanger in her closet before heading to her kitchen to prepare a meal, Karina following closely behind her to continue her scolding.

“You are so dramatic, you know that? Me and Jason haven’t talked in so long, I doubt it. I haven’t even seen the nigga around”

“So? Nothing about me is dramatic, I’m telling you the truth. That’s more than a secret admirer, that’s a stalker”

Y/N shrugged her off, laughing once again, and further annoying Karina with her lack of urgency to get down to the bottom of the situation at hand. “Stalker? What is this, a lifetime movie?”

“No, it’s real life. that’s why I need you to stay ready for whatever, especially with that creepy ass message your ex sent you after your breakup”

Little did she know, her friend was right all along. It wasn’t her ex, but someone who was far more demented and delusional. Lamelo had been sending eerily specific love letters to Y/N’s house for months, but had been watching her for well over a year now. Almost as soon as he saw her, his last obsession became a buried memory, Y/N now being in the forefront of his mind and sticking there like double sided tape to itself. After some time, he knew her from top to bottom, back to front, and soon, inside and out. If it was up to him, she would have always been his, but he wasn’t the best with approaching women of Y/N’s caliber. She was smart, a college student studying computer science, and none of his silly mind games that’d usually trip up other girls he was interested in would work on her. He had to up his game, and so, he set his plan in motion until he got her in the right place to sink his teeth into her.

✮✮✮✮

“Be safe, okay?”

“Yes, Karina! I won’t get murdered or chopped up over my vacation week, I promise” Y/N joked, but Karina was dead serious, finding no humor in her mess. Y/N’s smile drops, and she becomes serious, mostly so Karina would leave her alone about those ‘silly little notes’. “Okay, I’m sorry. I’ll be safe” she reassured, both the girls finally saying their goodbyes with a loving hug and wave. Closing the door, Y/N sighs. Karina was her bestest friend in the world, but sometimes she could be overbearing. Y/N felt maybe she needed a bit of attention since her recent breakup. She craved it, really. It didn’t matter if the attention was physical or something with a little less contact, Y/N wanted it. But, It wouldn’t go farther than that, she didn’t need a rebound.

Walking into her kitchen where she just finished preparing dinner, she began making herself a plate of spaghetti and freshly toasted bread. The smell of the food made her stomach growl. She knew if she didn’t give Karina a plate of her own before she left, she’d complain that Y/N hogged all that good food to herself. Satisfied with the plate she made, she grabbed her a fork from the dishwasher and sat down at the dining table. Taking a generous amount of pasta on her fork, her mouth watered just as she was about to send her tastebuds to food-heaven.

Then, the doorbell rang.

The girl pauses, praying whoever the hell that was would go away on their own so she could finish eating.

Knock, knock, knock.

Damn. Her lights were on, they knew she was home. She sighs, her fork lowering back down to her plate. Swallowing the saliva that had accumulated in her mouth, she unsticks herself from her comfortable seat, grumpily making her way towards the front door. Oddly, she saw no one through the frosted glass frame placed in the middle of the door, so she was forced to open it up and see what was going on.

“Hello??” She called, aggravated by how she had to leave her hot dinner just to answer the door and be met with silence. Stepping out on her porch a little, her eyes scan her yard, though nothing but darkness surrounded. Shaking her head, Y/N slams the door shut and locks it. “Stupid ass kids knockin’ on my door. One day imma stick my foot up one of they asses” She rants, walking back to her little set up. Feeling happiness again, she takes that lovely bite of food and does a little dance in her seat.

As her eating progresses, she couldn’t help but to notice her vision blurring, creating two of everything around her. Her head began to spin, and her heartbeat could be heard in her ears mid bite. She had lost her appetite completely by now, currently only focusing on not throwing up all over her table.

‘Where’s my phone?’

She could have sworn she had set it right next to her plate, but it was no where to be found now, even in her corrupted vision. Holding her head in her free hand, she gags at the sudden smell that fills her nose. It was a faint smell, but noticeable. sweet smelling, almost. Ironic for the bitter moment. Her brain told her to stand, and she followed suit, but she couldn’t stop the weakening of her knees or how slowed her breathing was getting.

Her body hit the floor with a ‘THUD’, her limbs feeling completely weighted down, and her consciousness slipping from her as she laid on the cold tiled floor, unable to move.

✮✮✮✮

There she was. Finally where Lamelo wanted her to be. He was so jittery and giddy about his successes that he could scream, but he held off on that till he was alone. His letters, fake pages, dms, and Instagram likes had finally paid off. He had her all to himself, and finally, no one was in his way. Not her colleagues, not Karina, not even her ‘crazy ass’ ex. He had gotten rid of him as soon as tension rose in their relationship. Jason hadn’t seen REAL crazy till he met Lamelo, and he made sure he knew that before his last breath.

The first time Lamelo and Jason interacted was when he witnessed their first relationship fight, which was fairly petty, but Melo didn’t see it that way. He had left a reeeal lengthy note on Jason’s dorm door, describing in step by step detail about how he would gut him like a fish, cut him up into tiny pieces and send every single bit of him off to his ‘helpless whore of a mother’, as Melo described her as. Of course Jason was shaken up, rightfully so. But obviously not shaken up enough to back off.

After not talking to Y/N since the argument, Jason appeared on her porch with that same note, tearing her a new one. He thought Karina was playing jokes on him for arguing with her bestfriend and making her cry. He took his anger out on her, yelled up a storm, and burned up the letter in his hand with his lighter, leaving it on the poor girls porch to stomp out as tears flowed from her glossed brown eyes.

Lamelo took the whole thing as a challenge. Did he really think Karina was on his level of literacy? That note was too well typed for it to be her. So, him being the man he was, made his threats come to fruition. He easily beckoned Jason into close arm reach by teasing him on his campuses basketball court as Jason was doing solo drills. Lucky for Lamelo, he trained at night.

Walking himself into the low lit court, Lamelo began taunting him, which stretched over three whole minutes. Knowing the hot head would react with physical anger, Lamelo kept a guard, and as soon as Jason tried him, Lamelo revealed the bat he held behind his back, swiftly taking a mighty swing at the man’s left leg, hitting right below his knee. Jason couldn’t have possibly seen it coming.

“Right out the park!” Lamelo continued to tease with a wide smile as if blood wasn’t splattered on his shoes. Red spilled from the back of Jason’s knee from his bone completely breaking and stabbing its way through his muscles and skin. You could have heard the snap of the bone and the sound of him hitting the floor echo through the gym, a sound Melo wanted to hear, but Jason’s loud screaming ruined getting the full effect. “I guess this is the part where I run to base” Grabbing the man by his destroyed, bloodied leg, Lamelo drags Jason off of the court as he screams bloody murder.

Lamelo instantly began regretting not bringing anything else to knock him out with without killing him, but every mastermind had slip ups. a shame somebody is gonna hear his screams and probably have nightmares about it now though. Not that Lamelo cared about either parties wellbeing, he just didn’t wanna hear his or anyone else’s mouth.

Then, in Lamelo’s basement face down, Jason continues to cry like a baby while Lamelo took a much needed drink break for the sake of his sanity, or what was left of it.

“How the fuck am I supposed to play ball now!?” Jason heaves suddenly with a quiet sob leaving his dry lips, his coffee colored hands holding his thigh as the blood spilling slowed. “You genuinely thought you were gonna get that far?”

Before Jason had time to attempt to answer, two bullets were already lodged into his skull, one exiting from between his eyebrows and one through his left eye socket.

✮✮✮✮

His daydreaming was cut short by Y/N mixing in her seat. Her consciousness had finally came back, but confusion quickly filled that space in her mind that was once occupied by unconsciousness. She looks around, not recognizing anything around her. “Look who’s up” Melo leans up from his seat in front of her, peeling off the ghostface mask he wore just for dramatic purposes. Y/N’s eyebrows knit together. “I know whatchu thinking. Where am I? Who are you? I’ll tell you all that later. But, for right now, we’re gonna celebrate” He smiles, and tosses the mask, standing from the couch he sat on.

Walking over to a small bar, he pours an unknown drink into a glass. Y/N had no idea what was going on, nor did she really care to find out. She was too worried about all the guns and knives that were laid out on the floor next to his seat. Fear pumped up her body with adrenaline, her entire being tingling. She wanted to jump out of her seat, but her arms were tied behind her back, and her ankles were tied to the chair’s own legs.

“I wanna make a toast. To a new life, and new love” He held up his glass and drunk some of the mystery liquor. Waking over to her, he holds the glass to her lips. “Drink” he instructed, Y/N shaking her head and looking away. “Why not? You think I poisoned it or somethin’?” He takes his hand and grabs her jaw, forcing her to look at him. “I wouldn’t do that to myself, so drink” he insists.

Looking back at him, her eyes trace his features, stretching down his long, tatted arms. Creepy shit aside, she thought he was cute, but she had to stay focused. “If you don’t drink, imma just force you” Y/N didn’t budge, but Lamelo had no problem with setting her straight early on. Gripping the sides of her face to make her open her mouth, he tilts her head back roughly and pours the drink into her mouth. The liquid went down smoothly, but burned her throat like hell. She didn’t drink, she never did because she got drunk easily, and Lamelo knew that.

She jerks her head away with a strong gag, tears welling up in her eyes. “I dunno if you realized yet, but I’m the one in charge, I’m the one who ain’t tied up, I’m the one that could end you like *snap* that” he threatens with a snap, but it holds no weight to him. He wasn’t gonna kill this one, or at least he hoped he wouldn’t have to. “I know you’re a smart girl, so I know you can listen. I didn’t go through all those letters to find out you can’t follow simple instructions, pretty”

Her eyes were drawn to him, anger now flickering within them like a flame in a dark room. “Letters?…You were the one writing those fuckin’ letters?” She spoke through clenched teeth. Lamelo smiles. “Surpriiiise~” he sings, gulping down the rest of the alcohol before slamming the glass down on the floor. The glass shattered into pieces, making Y/N jump at the sound. Her breathing was ragged, and pressure built up behind her eyes like a dam waiting to be cracked open.

“You’re a sick person” She spoke with distress, shaking her head. Melo shrugs with no sympathy. If he had a dollar for every time someone said that to him, he’d be a Rockefeller. “Everybody sick, I just have no problem showing mine, unlike the rest of society”

“Jesus Christ” she muttered, her head hanging low in regret. Karina was right all along, and she didn’t listen. If she did, she wouldn’t be in this position, her life in the hands of a man she didn’t even know. “Don’t act so sad. You’re gonna love me…or at least learn to. again, you’re smart”

“I don’t wanna love you. I wanna go home”

“You are home. Don’t be stupid” He spat, waltzing by her and picking up a blade from the floor, inspecting in. Y/N tenses up, Lamelo immediately noticing. He side eyes her with a slight smirk, mischief infesting his energy. “You think imma cut you, Y/N?” She kept quiet, but he continued to pry. “You think imma scar that pretty frame you got? What about this beautiful face?” He walks over to her, using the knife to swipe a box braid out of her vision. Y/N sniffles, taking a deep breath.

“Let. Me. Go”

“Or what?” Lamelo challenged, getting close to her as Y/N gave him a look, one he couldn’t make out or tell if it was anger. “You can’t do shit, I made sure. I tied you real good. Your friend thinks you went on vacation, so if you aren’t answering tomorrow, that just means you made it safe and you’re having fun. Maybe found yourself a fun fling that’s distracting that pretty mind. Somebody you invited up to your room” he continues, the tip of his knife swiftly making a cut into her gown with a quick swipe, making the thin fabric fall from the top of her body, pooling into her lap.She wanted to cover her naked body, but the rope restraints stuns her movements.

“Would you take me back to your hotel room, Y/N? I would have been a great candidate” the sadistic nature of him alone had her terrified, he could have done anything to her. She began shedding tears. She was exposed now, realizing the gown wasn’t even something she remembered wearing or buying, so he had to have put it on her himself when she was knocked out.

If he pulls the rest off, she was for sure fucked, no pun intended. He stares with no shame, the tip of his tongue grazing his plump bottom lip.

‘Fuck’

She attempts clenching her thighs together to stop the tingling, but it never subsided, and her brown nipples getting as hard as pebbles helped nothing. She wanted to keep a guard up so badly for her own safety, but the wetness coating the lips between her legs was telling her to do something else.

He notices how her legs were trying to move and her hips slowly circled, unintentionally trying to find a specific position to stimulate her clit. She couldn’t help it, she just wanted the tingling to stop. “Lemme help you wit’ that, ma” Melo smirks, putting his hand right under her soaked pussy. She stops immediately and lifts her butt as much as she can, feeling the warmth of his hand under her. She shakes her head ‘no’, but he nods a ‘yes’ and keeps his hand placed, kneeling on one knee in front of her. “Go ‘head” He says. The approval he gave her lingered in her head as the tingling intensified, giving her no choice but to fall into temptation.

Y/N hesitantly lowers herself down and begins to move against his hand, swirling, bouncing, and grinding down at the speed she wanted as her hips stuttered backwards every time his finger tips would swipe over her clit. She let out a stifled moan and threw her head back, rocking her hips faster as she felt herself climb closer to her end. Lamelo only fed her urges by bringing his hand up higher every time she’d raise her hips when the feeling got too strong, aiming to stimulate her clit through even the strongest parts of her orgasm. His dick was as hard as an iron pole in his pants now. It almost painfully pressing up against the material, the tip leaking precum just practically begging to be set free so he could fuck something, and soon it’d get its turn. Y/N could just see it through her eyelashes, she couldn’t help but look, it was so obvious.

Lamelo slides his fingers between her wet folds, collecting her slick to keep her clit wet while she used him as she pleased. “Speed up” he instructed.

✮✮✮✮

Fifteen minutes had passed and she had already came twice in the palm of his hands. Her seat was sticky and her thighs were wet, but Lamelo’s hand and arm were wetter. He slid his hand from under her and took a taste of what he had craved for so long. All of the timeless nights he had spent looking through her bedroom window, watching her feel, fuck, and taste herself, wishing he was there to catch every drop.

Feeling defeated, Y/N’s head lulls backwards as she rests her eyes on the ceiling above her. There was no other sound but the ringing frequency in her ear and the huffing of her breath trying to slow itself. She could hear her own heartbeat slowing too, just until the sound of wood creaking above them drowned the sound out. She pauses, her eyes shooting wide.

‘Who could possibly be here? could they help?’

Was what she began thinking as all the color from Lamelo’s face seemingly drained, his breath now still. Suddenly he reaches for the knife he held earlier, grabbing it from the floor and clutching it in his hand. Just in case someone had creeped down the stairs to the basement and witnessed what had been going on, he had no problem getting rid of whoever was responsible for ruining their moment.

The walking upstairs prologued, the hot tears that filled her eyes starting to flood her flushed cheeks as he placed a finger over her lips, signaling her to shut up. The cold blade of his knife pressed against the skin of her throat, so hard that she could practically feel her pulse and she was holding her breath purposely, scared the blade would cut her precious soft skin if she moved even an inch, and he cared less.

As the footsteps went away, distancing from them, he moves his hand. He lets out a much needed breath of relief and licks his lips, a smile growing on his face. “Roommate. Thought we were goners there for a second. You did good though, ma” He praises, standing from his crouching position. “I think you deserve a treat because of that”

Positioning his knife under the rope that held her feet in place, he looks up at her with a warning look before cutting both of her legs free. He walks around the chair and does her hands next, giving Y/N the room to rub her aching joints, feeling relief. Only one thought ran through her mind just then, and though she was tired from the recent back to back orgasms, she knew she only had one chance to get it right. So, she stood like a lamb taking its first steps, and took a run for it.

‘Please, please, please’

She pleaded in her head over and over again as she ran though the large basement, hoping to find an exit. Just as she had spotted a door at the end of a dark stairway, light of freedom shining through the cracks, her body jerked backwards and spun in the opposite direction, the miss placement of her sore feet being the reason why she hit the floor. The taste of iron filled her mouth from the gash on the inside of her lip, her teeth accidentally biting down on it as she went down.

She thanked god that carpet covered the floor or else she would have definitely knocked a tooth loose, and maybe lost one. “Run pretty fast for someone who’s been tied up for hours” He flipped her over so easily, prying her legs open so he could kneel between them. He admired her entire body as he held both her wrists down above her head with just one hand so he could capture them in a pair of cuffs, making sure she had no fighting chance this time. She couldn’t believe his hand was big enough to hold down both, and even with her struggling, he didn’t budge once.

✮✮✮✮

The take down was rough, but when he fucked, it was nothing like she expected. He slid his shaft along her clit, the pink bud erect and sticking out from her hood. He couldn’t stop himself from jumping against her pussy with excitement, the tip of his dick slapping the bottom of her belly with every bounce. He pulls his hips back, the tip of him now resting against her dripping entrance, ready to ruin her for the next, if Lamelo didn’t get to him first. “Stop..” She mutters, but deep down, she was really anticipating the contact.

Her sexual organs were completely against her once again, fogging her mind with thoughts of him she didn’t want and didn’t expect to have. She was forced to sit there, pondering on how he felt and how deep he could go inside of her, but she no longer had to wonder as he pushed his hips back forward to give her a taste of what she would be stuck with for the rest of her days.

He sunk into her slowly, her walls gripping him as a welcome upon entrance. He practically had to force himself inside with a drawn out sigh as Y/N sucks in air, both of them exchanging looks into their eyes before looking down at where they connected. Her stomach involuntarily sucks in, showing the bulge of his dick every time he thrusted forward with skill into her. The feeling deep down was so indescribable, so good that she almost cracked a smile. She hadn’t even noticed how much he was stretching her out, she was too busy feeling every inch of him.

Her eyes rolls back and her toes curled as she brought her legs back further for him, Lamelo smiling at how he didn’t even have to tell her to do so. He was just proud that she was learning, but she had much more to get down pact.

“Good girl…” he rasps.

“It’s so fucking deep” She whispers, her voice slightly hoarse from her throat being dry. As his hips tempo changed, the chains connected to her wrists made jingling sounds, making music with the clapping of their thighs joining in the harsher he got. He couldn’t tell if his bodies reaction to her was cause he hadn’t had sex in a long time or if she was just that damn tight. Meanwhile, YN was Lost in clouds of her own, feeling the repetitive push of Lamelo’s tip knocking against her g-spot, her own cream starting to slip out of her and drip down to her ass.

“This pussy grippin’” Melo compliments, one of his hands moving downwards to grip at the girls throat, making her tear up once again.

“Yeah? You like it?” She spoke breathlessly, the man above her nodding and laying a singular kiss on her lips, making her swoon momentarily before going back to her struggling whimpers.

“Mhmm, fuck” He moans. He never moaned, but he guessed she was changing him too.

“Call me daddy”

“Daddy!”

“Yeah, what’s my name?”

“Daddy! Fuck!”

“You so fuckin’ pretty, mamas” he groans out, almost whimpering as his dick pushed inside her further and further. She felt like he was trying to make her cervix a home for his dick with how deep he was going. Y/N began to think how they had gone too far for her to ignore how she was enjoying every bit of this. No matter how much she tried to tell her pussy to stop cumming for him, she continued, making the carpet under her soaked with her honey. Hours ago she wished her hands were untied to beat his ass, but now she wished they were uncuffed so she could trace his tattoos while he dug her out.

He was hitting spots that not even her ex man was hitting.

Using her thighs for leverage, he begins to fuck her in a push-up position, ramming his long dick directly into her coven, her walls squeezing him almost like she was showing thanks without words. Her juices made it easier for him to fuck her with no limit, slipping and sliding into her with no trouble apart from how tight she was gripping.

He didn’t hold off to cum either, he had already came twice, but he had more to give her and she had no choice but to take it. He was convinced he could imprint on her, and it was a bonus if his seed grew inside of her after all this hard work he put in. She was gonna stay with him, and he was gonna make sure of it.

✮✮✮✮

#black fanfic writer #black fanfiction #black!reader #masterlist #black reader #black!oc #black!fem!reader #black actors #lamelo ball fanfiction #lamelo ball smut #lamelo ball #kinktober #halloween smut #halloween masterlist #halloween fanfic #halloween fic #blackwriters #black writer #black fanfic #fanfiction #actor smut #smut masterlist #smutty fanfiction #smutty #henneseyhoe

[trsrina]

not-so secret admirer h. yujin

your friends think you have a secret admirer but little did they know, all those anonymously given gifts left on your desk every morning are from none other than your secret boyfriend.

written in second person pov, gn reader, fluff, established relationship, high school au, requested !! mentions of food

“ha! it’s here again! i told you it wouldn’t be a one-time thing,” a paper bag labelled with the logo of the bakery near your school sits there on your desk with a mini heart-shaped letter clipped to it.

it was still quite early in the morning as the clock ticks half-past seven, most desks empty with the exception of a few school bags messily littered on the floor.

you smile unknowingly upon being embraced with the warm gift.

“open it! open it! this is so sweet! this whole secret admirer thing is straight out of a kdrama,” your friend jumps up and down excitedly by your side as she waits for you to unveil the gift.

“okay, okay, calm down. why are you even more giddy about this than me?” you chuckle as you delicately take the letter and hold it close to your chest as you read it secretively.

“hey! let me see it too,” she tries to peek at the handwritten letter as you hold it closely to your heart, scanning through every messily written word on the thin piece of paper.

it wrote, ‘good morning. i got this for you on my way to school. please eat it while it’s hot. i hope you like it xoxo,’ signed off with the single letter ‘h’.

the letter was snatched away from your hands before you could properly process it and soon, your ears were attacked with a dolphin-like squeal.

“oh my god, you lucky bastard! you bagged a green flag,” your friend pretended to be jealous of you as she pout and softly hit your shoulder, returning the heartfelt letter to you as you unwrapped the paper bag to be met with the sweet aroma of the strawberry flavoured dessert, warmth still radiating from the pastry, fresh out of the oven.

“he’s just a secret admirer. i haven’t technically ‘bagged’ him or anything. i mean i probably don’t even know him,” you playfully bumped your shoulder against hers.

however, while your friend was too busy in her little world fantasising about all the possibilities of your love life, you knowingly grin to yourself and internally gushed over the boy who just so seems to be the culprit.

“han yujin, what has gotten into you?” you murmured to yourself and shook your head as the morning bell rings.

after an eternity of sitting through your morning classes, lunch started and so, you and your mini friend group gathered at the halls to get lunch together at the cafeteria.

it consisted of a few friends you’ve made last year in your old class, now all having been separated in the new school year.

said friend group also included han yujin, the very boy who you fell for last summer and has since been secretly dating throughout the summer.

upon making eye contact with him as you all walk up to each other, your other friend from another class enthusiastically skipping up to you to sling an arm around your shoulders, the both of you bashfully offer a small smile to each other and hide the pink hue decorating your cheeks, looking down and avoiding eye contact.

with the rest of you friends walking up ahead and chattering away, passionately rambling on about how boring classes were, yujin sneakily took the place by your side and walked right next to you.

“hey, did you like the little gift i left for you this morning?”

you softly beamed at him, trying your best to hold back the grin peeking on your face, “thank you, yujin. i really liked it but you really don’t have to do this every day.”

“hmm, i’ll think about it,” his eyes finally looked into yours, lovestruck and just so in love, you were surprised your friends didn’t notice you two making heart eyes at each other yet.

mesmerised by the way his gaze lingered on you, you drifted away from the conversations of your friends.

you both sneaked glances at each other, looking into each others’ eyes for a millisecond before looking away. your hands did the same too, swinging by your sides and gently bumping into each other, the back of your hands touching for a millisecond and then pulling away only to do the same once again.

your newly blossomed relationship didn’t start long ago so you were both still quite shy.

setting down your plates on your table, yujin speed-walked over to your side and raced your friend to sit on your left, they only side-eyed him and snickered as they sat on your right instead, letting him have his way with a snarky smile on his face.

as soon as everyone was seated and started digging in, you felt warmth enveloping your left hand that was placed in your lap, a larger hand interlocking their fingers with yours, the intertwined hands resting on your thigh.

you almost spit out your rice upon feeling yujin boldly taking your hand in his and immediately turn your head to look him in the eye.

your wide eyed gaze meets his smiling ones, innocently grinning at you and holding in his giggles.

calming yourself down, you turn back to your previously neglected plate and continue digging in.

however, your heart still beats at 100 km/h and the pumping in your chest distracts you from the conversation of your friends.

“why is your face so red? are you alright?”

the look on your face resembles that of a deer caught in headlights, eyes shot wide open as you face the concerned gazes of your friends.

“i’m fine! it’s just a little hot in here, you know. um, let me just go get a cold drink from the vending machine real quick, bye,”

you untangle your hand from yujin’s in a rush and your chair screeches as you push it back to stand up, and you speed walk out of the cafeteria.

“it’s 2°C?” your friend questioned as you left.

reaching the vending machines area, you let out a sigh and lean on the wall near the vending machine, hand resting on your heart to feel your pacing heartbeat.

“what is wrong with you,” you speak to yourself in the empty area as your head hangs low with the lights of the vending machine reflecting off of you.

hearing footsteps nearing the area, you immediately regained your composure and tensed up.

“hey. are you okay?” it was yujin.

“yujin? why are you here? go back before they get suspicious.” your words were cut off when yujin walked closer to you, the proximity taking your breath away.

“relax. don’t worry about them for now. it kills me that i can’t be close to you when i haven’t seen you for so long.”

“it has only been a few hours, yujin,” you chuckled as he pouted at you. his hands grabbing yours.

your head tilted up to face him and his tipped down to get closer to you, lips simply hovering over each others’. “but i still miss you,” he mumbled.

you felt the air from his mouth when he spoke hit your lips, reminding you of the close proximity between the both of you. and so, yujin made a move and leaned in, eyes closed, your eyes closing too in response.

you could feel the warmth from his face transport to yours, his hand creeping up your arm to hold your chin, thumb gently grazing your flushed cheeks, you both leaned in closer and- clack!

your heads swiftly turned to the source of the sound, snapped out of your trance, only to be met with the surprised look of your friends, eyes wide open and jaws dropped, speechless at the sight of two of their friends having such an intimate moment.

the sound came from your friend dropping her belongings on the floor due to the shock and honestly, you could not blame her nor the rest of your friends for the dramatic reaction.

you and yujin exchanged awkward glances after taking a look at your frozen friends, yujin nodded his head at you as if giving you approval.

“um, well, surprise?”

i am so so sorry this took so long to write i hope you like it and this is my first work after my very long hiatus so hopefully my writing didn’t get too bad 😨

#— trsrina’s works 📰 #— trsrina’s zb1 works #— trsrina’s requests 📁 #zb1 reactions #zb1 fics #zb1 x reader #zb1 imagines #zb1 scenarios #zb1 fluff #zb1 headcanons #zerobaseone #zb1 #zerobaseone fluff #zerobaseone imagines #zerobaseone reactions #zerobaseone x reader #zerobaseone fics #han yujin #zerobaseone yujin #han yujin x reader #han yujin fluff #han yujin imagines

[adventuringblind]

Nothing Like The Picture

Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Genre: Fluff, some spice towards the end

Summary: She's seen his pictures growing up, talked to him through letters, but the real thing is much better.

Warnings: ramblings about how good-looking Danny Ric is and an age gap of sizable amounts (I'm not sorry)

Notes: A request from @poster66 that I fell in love with.

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

Growing up knowing you're going to be used as a pawn in a political game is certainly something that can drive even the sanest royals to madness. The thought of having your entire life planned out for you the moment you're born has to be exhausting.

It's not for her.

Maybe it's because it's all she's know from the second she was born. Or it's the stacks of letters that sit on her desk from before she could even read that make this whole thing feel endearing.

Daniel wrote to her before she was born. Mostly ramblings about what he'd been up to. It's like he's written her an autobiography, so they aren't strangers when it does come time for her to be married off to him.

The age-gap wasn't planned. Not when their parents entered into this agreement. Neither of them had been born when they'd been promised to each other.

So, Daniel wrote her letters and when she was old enough, she wrote back. He was elated to get her first letter. Enough to write back instantaneously despite not having done much since the last one.

They wrote about interests and activities. About how their studies were going and how much they disliked their tutors.

She'd sprint through the castle, almost falling down the steps in her rush to receive his letters. The growing feeling of butterflies in her stomach with each written word became all consuming.

Daniel's kind words of consolation, paragraphs of endearing affection and lines of encouragement when she fell into emotional turmoil. She'd go as far as to say he is her closest friend and confidant. She'd shared all her secrets with him. He'd shared some of his with her.

The canvas painting on the wall of Daniel and his family is her only clue as to what he looks like. Aside from his own personal description of himself. He has a 'charismatic smile and devilishly good looks.'

Daniel asks her often about what she wants in the future. He claims that she will be treated as his equal. It's only fair she gets to have her own interests and he'd like to make sure she has whatever she needs when she inevitably has to move.

He writes her often about horses and how much time he spends in the stables. Tucked up in his horse's pen writing her. He rides often, much to his parents' demise. Daniel promises to take her riding and show her all his favorite places to hide away.

She tells him about the hidden corner of the library where she hides herself to read and write. Nobody has yet to find the secret location. Sometimes she uses it to escape her mother's constant hovering and fathers' ridiculous wrath.

When the day comes for her to leave, she neatly tucks away every letter, so they remain safe during the journey. She sends one last message to Daniel expressing her enthusiasm for getting to see him in person.

It takes far too long to get there. She wonders in Daniel would've ridden his own horse. They'd certainly reach their destination faster that way.

After what feels like years of traveling, she's standing at the foot of the steps. Butterflies making it difficult to breathe. They rage around in her chest and stomach.

She gets sympathetic looks from her hand maiden. It's not that she's upset about being here. But the anxiety of finally seeing Daniel is messing up her thoughts.

She manages to coax herself into at least going up the stairs and inside out of the cold. Surely Daniel would not want an icicle for a wife.

She takes a moment to admire her new home, letting herself breathe and relax before she has to face the inevitable.

"Princess!" She whirls around on her feet and is indeed met with a large charismatic grin. He jogs up to her, the distance now standing between them oddly suffocating.

She gives up on restraining herself. It's only the two of them in the hall for the moment. Her arms wrap around his neck.

Just as she imagined, he smells utterly addictive. Strang arms hold her in place. He's too, which is an added bonus given how cold she is at the moment.

"You, are incredibly stunning." He smiles in her hair. It's a good thing he can't see her face because she can feel the heat of the blush. "I hope I meet your expectations and my descriptions did my physique justice."

"I've been staring at the same portrait for five years now. I can safely say that it didn't do you any justice."

"The painters always get my nose wrong!"

Daniel pulls away and cups her cheeks. For a moment, she thinks he might actually kiss her. Which - she won't lie - Is something she'd very much like to have happen. So much so, that she goes for it first.

Alas, Daniel foils her attempt. "Not here. I have plans for you later. We've been writing for years; you can be patient a little longer."

She whines at him, but when Daniel lays a kiss to her cheek and brushes his fingers against his skin, she knows she'll wait for him.

Thousands of years, if neccecary, if only to look at him in real life and not through a portrait.

#x reader #daniel ricciardo 3 #f1 fic #fanficion #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #racing #danny ric #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo #dr3 imagine #dr3 #dr3 x reader #redbull daniel #redbull racing #redbull #redbull f1 #alpha tauri #scuderia alphatauri #alphatauri #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 imagine #daniel ricciardo x y/n #daniel ricciardo x you #dr3 fluff #honey badger #red bull f1 #red bull racing

[hazelsmirrorball]

Teacher Things | Hazel Callahan

parings: Teacher! Hazel Callahan × Teacher! Reader, Summary: It's Halloween in Rockbridge elementary and Hazel decides it's a good idea to play secret admirer with one of the teachers. a/n: hi! I'm in love with this story. I decided to mix something that I've been thinking of doing for a while Abbott Elementary X bottoms. Hope you guys enjoy it as much as I did writing it! Also the bold letters mean that they are doing a private interview! warnings: English isn't my main language so excuse any mistake! Not proof read.

The bell rang loudly filling the halls mixing with the loud voices of the kids that were heading towards their classrooms. The teachers patiently waited outside the door greeting every single kid that entered. The hallways where different from their day to day. Miss L/n had stayed all night up decorating the halls to make them spooky for halloween.

"Hi! I'm principal PJ. I still don't know how I ended up ruling this school but might I say I love it here. I’m the literal queen of this school, everyone does what I say, it’s like I direct them or something. There’s a lot of perks of working at Rockbridge elementary,  Hot teachers, smart kids and the paycheck. Being a principal is the best, so I welcome you to my lovely kingdom. But enough about me, let’s talk about my untalented and ugly staff so you guys can see what I have to work with everyday. Look, there we have one of our annoying second grade teachers, Y/n. I'll leave you guys to it and let me say if you need more beauty shots, I'll be in my office" PJ said while tilting her crown down sending a kiss towards the camera. She turns to the left and the camera slowly follows her walking towards one of the students eating a lollipop. PJ quickly takes it out of her hand and eats it herself. She walks away leaving the kindergartener alone crying in the halls. 

"Hello!! I'm Y/n L/n. But around here everyone calls me Miss L/n. I've been teaching second grade here for about four years now and honestly it's a blast. I love the kids, I love the school, I love my coworkers, I love the classes, I love my mood ...Sorry l am rambling but in my defense it's one of the best holidays of the year. Halloween!  and this year is different because we got the opportunity to dress up this year. They also let me put the whole school in halloween decor. All the kids are so excited to wear their little costumes and eat candies. That’s why I had to step up my game. Guess what I am? No? Okay. Well I’m a bumblebee cause people say I’m sweet like honey and sometimes that is cloying, but that’s nobody's buzzness. Did you get the joke? Did you understand?  Because I am dressed as a bee? I know you got it, I see that smile on your lips, cameraman. Anyway, let me just get to the point, I teach second grade and around here we all love to have fun. Do you want a Frankenstein cupcake? I made them myself" She said with a huge grin stretching out her hand with a cupcake toward the cameramen while the kids in the background made cute cupcakes. Her face was covered in frosting and her costume was covered in glitter. 

Hazel Callahan, giggled as she excitedly greeted her first graders, exclaiming proudly “may the force be with you” as they entered the classroom, her Anakin Skywalker costume intact. She watched as her little students entered the classroom all giggly while holding onto buckets filled with candies she had personally requested them to bring so they could exchange with their classmates. When the last student entered, her eyes trailed towards the end of the hall where she could see Y/n L/n handing her kids a lollipop while they entered. Hazel stared at her in aw, as she did a dance battle with one of the kids that was dressed as a hip hop dancer. Y/n stinger got caught on the door making her fall back as all the kids from her class ran up to her to help her up. She shook them off by saving countless thank you’s. Y/n threw her head back laughing at her kids following the action as Hazel stayed in her place being starstruck by her beauty. She waited a few seconds to catch her eye and waved at her with a soft smile which Y/n happily returned. Being lost by the sudden interaction Hazel couldn’t feel the small child tugging on the bottom of her robes trying to get her attention. 

“Miss Hazel! You are staring at Miss L/n again” The child exclaimed quite loudly making Hazel jump up and panicked. She quickly crouched down to be at the same level as the kid. 

“Alex, what did we say about yelling?” Hazel said softly, trying to push back her flushed face. Alex looked down towards his shoes shaking his head. 

“That we shouldn’t do it. I’m sorry Miss Hazel. I was trying to get your attention because I needed to tell you something but you were looking at Miss L/n. I heard that in their class they are making cupcakes today. What are we going to do? It’s Halloween we should do something fun” Alex said, raising his head and grinning excitedly towards Hazel. Hazel mirrored her expression. 

“Well, I talked to Principal PJ as she said we could blow bombs outside. So after we exchange candies right after recess we can blow some things up” Hazel said resting her hands on his shoulder grinning. Alex quickly squealed in excitement jumping up and down. Hazel followed his actions moving side to side. “Wait, what did you need to tell me that was so urgent?” Hazel said quickly remembering what were his true intentions. 

“I actually don’t remember” Alex said, making a thinking face. 

"Miss Hazel!  Jeremy is kicking me again" a kid screamed from inside the classroom making Hazel quickly enter the room to detain the fiasco before it got worse. Jeremy was quite the fighter and she didn’t feel like cleaning up blood today. 

Hazel Callahan didn't expect to like being a teacher as much as she did but now after being a  teacher for about a year, she was starting to get the hang of things. She enjoyed the kids' presence, they made things actually fun for her and the best thing, aside from the kids, there was Y/n L/n. Having Y/n around made the teaching experience quite refreshing. She was around the same age as Hazel  but she had been teaching there for about four years just like her close friend and English teacher, Josie . Hazel had tried several times to get in their little group but it was quite hard for her to click with the teachers. It wasn’t that they were mean or anything, it was the fact that they didn’t take the rookie teacher seriously. Adding to the fact that Hazel wasn’t the best when getting social clues, for some people, it felt like they were talking to a child while they were talking to Hazel. 

“Miss Callahan, I wanted to inform you that the camera crew just got here today, so don't be surprised if they catch your fine ass. You look quite attractive with those robes." Principal PJ said, peeking her head through the door. Hazel turned around with a scared look on her face seeing PJ wiggle her eyebrows at her. Hazel’s hands dropped stopping the two kids that were originally fighting. 

"Excuse me?" Hazel asked, raising an eyebrow at PJ making her wink at Hazel. 

"I'm just playing but remember that they...Oh look they are here now! Here we have Miss Hazel Callahan. She teaches first grade and she's been working here for about a year, yet she can barely get a hold of her class but we are working on it. So enjoy your time with her. The hottest teacher in the school. Bye" She exclaimed while she left Hazel standing agape in the hallway with a camera crew filming straight at her. Hazel quickly took her glasses off, cleaning them on her robes nervously while the kids screamed as loud as they could in the back of the class, the kids once again starting their fight.

“First of all, I'm not the hottest teacher here, I'll leave that to Brittany and second of all I have perfect control of my kids. Didn’t you guys catch on camera me stopping the fight? " Hazel exclaimed defensively while putting on her glasses and looking at the camera clearly stressed. Her hair was now messy pointing to several directions as her breath was unsteady. 

"Miss Hazel! Help me, Jeremy is still pulling my hair now" a kid yelled from the back of the class quickly gaining Hazel’s attention. She quickly ran towards the back of the class and the camera crew quickly behind her. Hazel tried pulling Jeremy off one of the other kids but he wouldn't move.

"Jeremiah, let go!" Hazel said while falling desperately to get his attention. 

"I'm not letting go Haze! She bit me with her stupid vampire teeth" Jeremiah yelled still not letting go of his grip becoming stronger. 

"First, I told you even though you are stronger than me to call me Miss Hazel. Second of all, we said no bad words in the classroom and that included the word stupid.  Now let's just try to be in a loving mood, it's Halloween, don't you guys want to be in a loving mood?!" Hazel asked desperately, trying to convince the kids to let go of each other. All the kids around them were unphased by the interaction, exchanging candies while the fiasco unfolds.

"NO!" Both of the kids exclaim pushing Hazel down towards the floor. She closed her eyes in pain waiting for a few seconds for the floor to eat her alive. She let out a sigh, dragging herself to one of the classroom doors praying that someone, beside PJ or Y/n, would help her out. 

"How are you kids so strong?! Sylvie!  Sylvie please, please help me. Sylvie I know you can see me" Hazel exclaimed as she gripped on the side of the door from the floor. She reached forward holding her leg desperately not wanting her to move. Sylvie stopped dead in her tracks staring down at Hazel with pity. Her eyes were nearly covered in tears as she begged her to come and help. Sylvie looked towards the break room as she turned her back from it, taking a step into the classroom but not before quickly rolling her eyes at Hazel. Instantly the kids stopped fighting while the ones that were exchanging candies  sat down hiding their sweets.

"How?" Hazel mouthed to the camera while watching the kids stay like statues with Sylvie.

"I'm Sylvie. Please do not associate me with the principal or I will call the authorities against you. If it were my decision, I would have been principal and I would have said no to this little filming festival you have going around here. But since l am not principal, I have to answer your dumb questions.  I am the other second grade teacher here at Rockbridge elementary. The only person I don't get annoyed at in this school is possibly Hazel. She isn't the worst teacher in the world but she isn't the greatest. Kids here can be little shits but I have them under control. Hazel on the other hand doesn't. She lacks control and I truly believe she's one of the kids." Sylvie said to the camera while moving to the side to let into view a giggling Hazel Callahan exchanging her candies  with her students excitedly.

Meanwhile, Josie  and Annie walked together to the break lounge ready to eat their lunch and enjoy their break. Both of them worked on the second floor with the middle school kids and they were exhausted.

"Good evening, I'm Josie and I teach seventh grade english. I've been in this school for four years and quite frankly still don't know why I've stayed so long."

Annie sat down taking her food out of her neatly prepared lunch box while Josie took her mug to serve herself some coffee. Both of them took in the wonderful peace and quiet that surrounded the break lounge, something that it always lacked. But the peace and quiet was interrupted by the door slamming open and a visually alarmed Hazel  coming through, Sylvie following behind shortly after.

"I'm so done with those little pieces of sh.. You"  Hazel took a deep breath pointing at the cameramen. "Stop following me with those stupid cameras. You're making me seem like I'm a bad teacher” She said while her eyes twitched, making Josie hide a chuckle with a cough. She continued to drink her coffee attempting to calm herself.

"I don't think they're making you seem like a bad teacher, maybe you're just being one” Annie  responded while taking a bite of her sandwich making Josie  "cough" even louder.

"Annie.  I came to this school the same time Hazel Callahan did and it still surprises me that she is still here. There were fifty new teachers and surprisingly the only two left are Hazel Callahan  and me, I thought she was going to be the first one to leave, yet here she is, still struggling and still not getting the hang of it" Annie said to the camera while fixing the nonexistent wrinkles of her dress.

"Well, I have you know I am a great teacher! My students say it to me all the time when I get emotional. I bet you don’t even cry with your students. My students and I had a Halloween party, something that didn't even cross your mind to have today. We exchanged candies, had a dance party and watched movies. They love me. I love them. And all you did was bore you kids to death today, I suppose. What did you do? Make them read" Hazel responded angrily while looking at the peaceful Annie. 

"Actually, yes. We read about the history behind witches. Something you can actually do to learn since you come to school to learn not to party. But I guess you didn't get the memo since all you did was go to frat parties in college" She said taking another bite of her sandwich.

"Jokes on you I wasn't even in a frat. But I just know your kids wanted lollipops and by the way I gave my kids lollipops and none of them threw them at each other so I believe that's progress"Hazel said proudly while looking in the fridge giving her back to the teachers letting them see the back part of her robes covered in lollipops.

"Congrats! You are getting better, Callahan. I am really proud” Josie  applauded while placing her cup of coffee down.

“But I don't think you should get your kids hopes up with Halloween. You should show them the gory things that I showed mine today. Real, scary, halloween movies. When they’ll get older they will thank you for teaching them how to survive a psycho. ” Sylvie responded while sitting next to Annie.

"Aren't your kids seven?" Annie asked concerned, raising an eyebrow at Sylvie.

"And your point is, Anabelle?" Sylvie asked while taking a sip of her black coffee. 

“I already told you, my name isn't Annabelle, it's Annie" she said seriously while glaring at the woman.

"I will not stop spreading love in my classroom.I love Halloween and no one and I mean no one  loves 

Halloween more than me" Hazel exclaimed sitting down with her arms crossed. 

"Hellooo fellow teachers!" Y/n exclaimed throwing flower petals in the air while entering the break room. 

"I highly doubt it" Josie responded while looking at her best friend, dressed up in her vibrant yellow costume. She was holding onto a basket filled with sweets while her wings neatly placed on her back. Her hair wasn't styled as usual, instead it was pulled back in two braids with her antennas.

"Happy Halloween to you, and you, and you" She said, handing a beautifully devoted Halloween box to each of her coworkers.

Annie smiled softly, Josie whispered a thanks and Sylvie rolled her eyes, but deep down she loved it. Y/n headed towards Hazel giving her a bigger box than the rest. Hazel blushed hard, taking in the gift in her hand while Y/n placed down her things. 

"Thank you, Y/n. I appreciate it a lot" She said smiling softly but her smile got wider when she sat next to her.

"You're welcome Hazel! By the way, I love your wizard robes. A lot of my students dressed the same. It looks cute" she said, playing with the ends of Hazel’s robes. 

“Actually, Y/n. Hazel’s dressed as An...” Sylvie started but quickly got cut off by Hazel slamming her hand against the table. 

"Thank you, Y/n! I was trying really hard for that wizard look. I really like your bee costume. I know everyone was buzzing about it” She said excitedly while trying to hide her  blush. Y/n threw her head laughing hitting Hazel’s shoulder softly making Hazel blush more if it even was possible.  

"Thank you! I wanted to go all out today, I heard that the party was going to be the bomb.” Y/n said winking towards Hazel which made her grin excitedly. 

“You know about that?” Hazel asked confusedly, while taking her food out of her bag. 

“Yeah! My kids were telling me about some big plan you have after recess. I was so excited for the afternoon party I forgot to bring lunch" She smiled at her while opening a water bottle and looking down at her notes to fix anything that was incorrect for the party the school was throwing later today.

"Here, have my sandwich" Hazel exclaimed quickly, planting the sandwich next to her. She looked up from her paper shaking her head.

“Don't worry about it Hazel. You should eat, I can wait until later.” She responded by trying to hand it back at her but she shook her head.

"Have it, I'm not even hungry" Hazel said smiling softly while shrugging trying not to worry her.

"Thank you Hazel! I owe you one" Y/n said, taking a bite while Josie  looked at the camera suspiciously while drinking her coffee.

"What? I'm not hungry. My stomach is filled with brownies, candies and cupcakes. Plus the cupcake I had this morning, if Y/n’s hungry I wouldn't mind giving her my food!! Or anyone not necessarily her, I give my food to everyone that wants it, look. Here have this kiwi" Hazel exclaimed while taking out the kiwi she was previously eating and handing it in to a kid that was passing by. The kid stared at Hazel weirdly before continuing walking.

"So,what are you guys doing tonight? Anything special planned in this spooky evening" Hazel asked, trying to change the subject while they all peacefully ate. Everyone stayed quiet but Hazel anxiously taped her finger on the round table making Annie groan and speak up.

"Well, since you're being nosy, my boyfriend rented out a movie theater to watch movies tonight” Annie responded, closing her book. Y/n squealed, turning to her with a smile. "It was so romantic. What did you get?" Annie asked, directing herself to Y/n, but she simply shrugged.

“The kids gave me some beautifully made cupcakes, those that count?" She asked sitting next to her, Sylvie laughed making the two girls stare at her.

“It's sad that you want that to count," She said, taking another sip of her coffee.

“Don't listen to Sylvie, she's just jealous the kids didn't give her anything because they are scared of her” Annie said, rolling her eyes as Y/n fixed her posture awkwardly. 

"My kids love me, they know my second grade class is the superior one and they did get me sweets. I just don't like them" Sylvie responded, getting a bag of candy and throwing it on the table leaving Annie in shock.

"Well, maybe you'll get something later, the night is still young" Hazel said suspiciously while looking at the camera with a smirk. As if it were by cue a delivery man opens the door holding a big strawberry bouquet.

“Delivery for Y/n L/n” the delivery man said while reading the card. Y/n excitedly got up taking it in her hands and placing it down on the table picking the card to see from who it was. She quickly smiled at the delivery man saying thanks before he left. All the teachers looked at the bouquet waiting for her to say who it was from.

"From who is it?" Hazel  asked while standing next to her with a huge grin on her face.

"It says spooky berries  from a secret admirer, " she said, picky a strawberry eating it.

Josie, Annie and Sylvie stood outside in the hallways with the camera crew Filming them.

"It was Hazel" the trio said at the same time while rolling their eyes.

"This is beautiful! The person that got me this has to know me really well, I love chocolate covered strawberries. They are literally the best thing to ever exist on this planet"

" You see! I know her well!! I got her that gift and went all out! I'm proud of my hard work and the smile on her face is to die for. So ha! I win Halloween" Hazel exclaimed happily at the camera while grinning.

"Breaks over, I need my teachers in their classrooms so they can take the kids to that dumb party Y/n’s making" PJ said entering the lounge and getting herself some coffee.

"Nothing you can do will ruin my mood today PJ. So I will take that as a compliment" She responded, taking a picture of the strawberries.

"You got yourself that gift? That's sad, even for you L/n" PJ responded while taking a sip of the drink.

"Actually, it was a secret admirer" she responded, not even looking at her.

"Hazel, it was Hazel" PJ said, looking at the camera in the hallway while taking a bite of a strawberry she had taken from Y/n's gift.

"Also how are you guys enjoying the reality show we have going on here?" PJ asked, winking at the camera.

"I feel watched and stalked" Sylvie responded seriously.

"I didn't ask you. Hazel?" PJ turned her head towards Hazel who started to pick up her things so she could head back to her classroom. 

"This isn't a reality show PJ. it's a documentary for schools with poor funding so I don't think we should be proud of that” She said while standing up and putting her tote bag on her shoulder. 

"You know what I'm not proud of, the fact I haven't received my Valentine's Day gift yet" PJ said only for her to hear. Hazel shivers while looking at her with the same expression as before. "Now everyone chop chop. We don't have all day" she continued while applauding obnoxiously.

Everyone started leaving the teachers lounge leaving Hazel to herself to open the box Y/n had given her, she slowly opened the box and opened her eyes wide when she saw the gift.

"Oh, I've known about Hazels' crush ever since she started working here. But I love seeing the reactions she does when she thinks I don't know a thing about the little gestures she does for me. That's why I decided that I should give something back" Y/n said smiling to the camera holding the gift she had received from her. In the background you could see Hazel dancing excitedly and when Y/n turned around to look at her, She froze waving at her trying to act cool which Y/n responded with a smile while quickly turning to her classroom.

Hazel looked at her kids jumping up and down at the party and she smiled. She looked at the camera men and then down at her hand.

"I'm going on a date today" She said screaming while joining her kids in a dance battle.

Josie looked at Hazel and then at her best friend from the other side of the school gym and smiled softly at her.

"You asked her out, didn't you?" Josie asked, looking at Y/n.

"Yes, I think she’s cute." She responded while looking at the dancing Hazel. Both of them looked at how Hazel huddled up with the kids with a box shaped thing in her hands. 

“Wait, is that a bomb?” 

#imagines #hazel callahan imagine #hazel callahan reader insert #hazel x reader #hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #ruby cruz x reader #ruby cruz #kit tanthalos x reader #kit tanthalos #bottoms movie

[untilnextchapter]

Masterlist : Marvel

Marvel Cinematic Universe

* = Smut (Minors DNI) || 🦋 = Series || Beware of the TW please

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Do you love Bucky series? @justkending is the writer for you! Here are some of my favourites:

Finding Memories 🦋 (Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Reader, Waking up with little to no memory of her past, and being saved by a group of individuals who call themselves heroes, sends a long time captive for a whirlwind trying to find some form of grounding in this world she quickly learns runs on chaos. But she’s not the only one trying to figure out her forgotten backstory. Bucky Barnes, along with the other Avengers, can’t help but sense that there is a lot more to the whole situation than a diagnosis of amnesia. Her background slowly starts to come forward in pieces of her past and hidden information discovered. Who is she? And why was she in the room they were meant to destroy?)

The Number One Rule 🦋 (Bucky Barnes x Rogers!Reader, Y/N has always been seen as “Steve’s rambunctious sister.” However, she grew up, graduated, and moved to London to study abroad for 4 years and get her bachelor’s degree. The girl that returns looks nothing like the teenager that left. But don’t worry, the attitude is still there and stronger than ever. What’s to come of the two grown adults that used to push each other’s buttons, but now have a lot more in common than they’ve ever realized?)

The Slip Up 🦋 (Bucky Barnes x Single mom!Reader, After a last hurrah to graduating college with a future to be a family practitioner, a little slip up happens… Seven years down the road, just when things just now seem to be going smoothly, Y/N approaches that slip up from all those years ago. She’s not looking for anything right now. She is just where she wants to be in life. It seems the universe has a different idea though. One called James Barnes.)

So, my number one for smutty Bucky is the wonderful @sinner-as-saint. Here are a few of my favourites:

Capital Letters * 🦋 (Bucky AU x Fem!Reader, You were fortunate enough to work for who was considered to be one of the best, most admired and affluent authors of your time; Mr. James Buchanan Barnes. And soon, things weren’t so professional between you and the man…)

His Obsession * (Mob!Seb x Housekeeper!Reader, You work for the notorious mob boss. You’re at his house regularly; tidying up and cleaning and surprisingly you’re not scared of him like the rest of his staff are. Sure he is authoritative, and mean but he’s never disrespectful or inappropriate, nor does he bark orders at you like he does with the guys. And you were almost certain that he barely pays attention to you. Until one evening he confronts you about something. And what starts out heated, ends in a night neither of you will ever forget…)

Miscellaneous Authors:

Diner Girl || @ofstarsandvibranium (Fem!Reader, After coming across a small diner, he becomes enamoured with you, a waitress)

Set me free || @intrepidacious (Bucky x Nymph!Reader, Once upon a time, a soldier fell from a train. Thankfully, this time, he is found by gentle hands, and a beautiful voice keeps him safe from the cold)

Heal me, baby || @/intrepidacious (Bucky x Nurse!Reader, Your friendship starts with you cleaning up his wounds and Bucky paying to get the blood stains out of your couch. Something else starts, too)

Nightingale’s Song 🦋 || @thatfanficstuff (Barnes x OC, James Buchanan Barnes. Captain America’s best friend. Hydra’s secret weapon. A man lost in time who can’t remember his own name let alone those he held most dear. Florence Anna Charles. A nurse on the front in World War II. A mutant in a time they weren’t known. A woman who can heal with a touch that catches the attention of Hydra)

Lessons in Love || @violentdelightsandviolentends (Bucky x Fem!Reader, Bucky didn't believe in love at first sight. Then he met you.)

[Not Named] || @terry-perry (Dad!Buck x Fem!Reader, Can I request of Jack is clinging on Y/n like koala. Like when Bucky try to pry him off of her but he said “No! I’m staying with mommy and protect her!”)

Mood lighting || @frankieetaylorr (1930s!Bucky x Fem!wheelchair-user!Reader, You never understood why he always came to the dances your resident home threw but you were always so glad when he did)

TW: brief mention of abandonment

Secret Book Club || @starks-hero (40’s!Bucky x Reader, Bucky’s got a new book and he just can’t seem to put it down)

Instinct || @dilemmaontwolegs (FATWS!Bucky x Blind!Fem!Reader, After trying to stop a mugging before Bucky intervenes as reward is offered and so he tracks you down)

Fall into Winter * 🦋 [Ao3] || Miajah (Bucky x Reader, Mae was just doing her civic duty when she saved Iron Man, now she can't seem to get rid of him. Then there was the Winter Soldier and of course Captain America himself. A girl can't catch a break)

Running From the Past * 🦋 [Ao3] || @green-eyeddragonfanfiction (Buck x Mutant!Reader, Reader is a mutant who was experimented on by HYDRA. Due to her unique powers, she escapes without being seen when the Avengers attack the Hydra compound she’s been kept in for the last 5 years of her life. Her mutations and Hydra experiments allow her to blend in with her surroundings (like a chameleon/cuttlefish/octopus) and change her appearance in minor ways (such as hair, skin, and eye color), though the changes are only temporary. She’s now on the run, avoiding both Hydra and SHIELD)

Steve Rogers x Reader

You and Me Together 🦋 || @/ofstarsandvibranium (Single Parent Steve x Fem!Reader, After the death of his wife, Sharon, Steve Rogers is now the single parent of their daughter, Grace. Three years after his wife’s death, his friends convince him to go back into the dating game)

Not a Perfect Princess || @shmaptainwrites || (Steve x Princess!Reader, Reader meets one of the heros who saved her country and realizes around him she doesn’t have to be a perfect princess)

Making the Team || @heliads (Dad!Steve x Daughter!Reader, The reader is the daughter of natasha and steve, and she is nervous about for her first mission. Her mom and dad tell her that everything is gonna be great, and the mission is complete, but the reader is badly injured and her parents and Bruce takes care of her)

10 Years Time 🦋 || @/justkending (Steve x Stark!Daughter!Reader, As princess of Alberia, it is your duty to grow into a rightful young lady if you plan on ruling your family’s country. Of course, the only way your father can see this happening is sending you off to a boarding camp at the age of 14 for 10 years to learn what it means to grow into a Queen.That means leaving all your friends and family behind. One specific person, your best friend, you never want to say goodbye to. But 10 years later, you come back grown into a young lady, and find your best friend has grown into a knightly young man. How will you two adjust after 10 years apart? Will things be the same, or will all that’s happened in that span of time affect your relationship?)

Tony Stark x Reader

Dum-E || @mostly-marvel-musings (Tony x Fem!Reader, DUM-E has probably tried petting Tony's hair with his grabby claw when Tony falls asleep in the lab because he's seen you do it and noticed that Tony likes it)

Hot Chocolate and Hoodies || @deadlymistletoe (Tony x Fem!Reader, A dare involving a hoodie eventually leads to hidden feelings being revealed)

Maybe to annoy you || @specialagentlokitty (Tony Stark x Daughter!Reader, Tony's daughter and she has a crush on Steve, like everytime she sees him she blushes and Tony is a little annoyed)

Two Wicks, One Flame * 🦋 [Ao3] || AmberSnapeBlack (Tony x Soulmate!OC, Emma has had it rough her whole life. Her experiences have shaped her into who she is today, a twenty three year old bus girl with no self esteem or backbone. She hates the lime light...well she hates socializing at all. She has never paid her soul mark any mind. Most days, she forgets it even exists. That will change for her in a way she never anticipated. What comes with bearing the soul mark of the man who is the forefront of the Avengers? Who is almost always in lime light? Who is possibly, already taken? Does she want to know?)

Loki Laufeyson x Reader

Little Love || @/ofstarsandvibranium (Loki x Short!Reader, where the reader is super short)

Shatter This Glass And Set Me Free * 🦋 [Ao3] || @shiningloki || (Loki x OC, Loki hasn't seen the light of day in years. He has been locked away in Stark Tower, waiting for Odin to free him of his punishment after his attack on New York. He's angry, he's spiteful, but most of all, he's lonely. It is not until one day when a new face comes along Stark Tower that everything begins to change. She's different from the rest. She's trusting, she's curious, and she's willing to give Loki a chance at companionship that no one has ever offered him)

The Eyes of the Beholder 🦋 || @/starks-hero (Gorgon!Loki x Blind!Reader, Loki has spent years in solitude, hidden away in the mountains south of Athens. Having been cursed by the gods for his trickery, anyone that sets eyes on him shall turn to stone. But what happens when an unfortunate mortal wanders into his domain?)

TW: Descriptions of blood, violence and injury, angst

Dances and Daggers 🦋 [Ao3] || Cozy_The_Overlord (Loki x OC, The Summer Festival is upon Asgard, as is the tradition of the dagger ceremony, where each unmarried gentleman chooses a lady to bestow with the honor of carrying his dagger for the night. As Prince Thor's betrothed, Teki's only goal is to accept his dagger with grace and hope that her violent stepfather doesn't find fault with her in the process. But Prince Thor is unpredictable, and when he ignores his engagement on a whim Teki finds herself in a desperate situation. Luckily, Thor isn't the only prince in Asgard…)

Avengers x Reader

Not a burden || @/specialagentlokitty (Autistic!Child!Reader, Would you be comfortable writing something where Bucky and Steve (or maybe the whole Avengers team if you like that better) adopt the autistic reader after finding out her mother emotionally abused her?)

Some Things Never Sleep 🦋 [FF.Net] || MotomamiBizcochito (Avengers x OC, Emma Rogers, AKA The Viper Assassin, has been under Hydra's thumb for nine long years until the Avengers rescue her from a Hydra base after receiving anonymous intel from the Winter Soldier. She's thrown into a world of freedom which she's never known but with the help of her grandfather, Captain America, she slowly becomes accustomed to her new life until Tony Stark brings up the Sokovia Accords. Emma is caught in the middle of a war as she becomes intent on protecting the man she calls her father and siding with her grandfather. Not to mention she crosses paths with a certain webslinging nuisance that knows just how to push her buttons like no other...what Emma would give for the days she spent knife fighting with her father in Siberia)

I know it's a Spiderman x OC but it's because of this story I discovered MCU and Emma has a lot of relations with Avengers. A LOT of TW, check them all please

#untilnextchapter #untilnextchapter rec #marvel #marvel x reader #x reader #mcu fanfiction #mcu x reader #fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #tony stark x reader #tony stark #loki odinson x reader #loki x reader #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #loki laufesyon x reader #mcu imagine #recommendations masterlist #masterlist

[lilisouless]

Grishaverse love stories in a Bridgerton like Au

Most images are from Pinterest, if the original person where I got them wants me to take them down I will

Kanej

-They are lady Whistledown, meaning Inej gets the secrets and Kaz publishes them , probably in order to distract the town from radical groups

-Kaz gets a deal with noble man Per Haskell , he must help Inej marry a nobleman. Part of the share would go to Per Haskell and Inej wants the rest to travel and find her family that she lost after being kidnapped.

-Kaz tries to set her up with Lord Wylan Van eck , ignoring his own feelings due to lack of noble titles and the money she needs, while Inej believes this is simply because he prefers the monetary compensation than her and she needs the money anyway

Zoyalai

-Very similar to the books,Nikolai is the heir to the Ravka crown after the death of his brother Vasily. After losing her family in a mysterious fire, Lady Zoya has lost more of her property and she is no longer a candidate to be courted. The favors lean towards princess Ehri from Shu Han or Lady Alina who was just found to be a rich heiress.

-Despite her lack of richness, Lady Zoya has a high status as the King’s confidant , it’s famously beautiful and every man wishes to be the one to conquer her cold heart,Count Kirigin has his eyes in her

-Lady Zoya’s work is to advice the king about the his best option, Lady Alina seems the safest since Princess Ehri may have inner plans ,Zoya also must help him hide his status as a born bastard. This gets complications, in an attempt to hide King Nikolai’s visit to his real father, Zoya has to twist it and makes it believe she has an affair with the king, that the letters that she burned were love letters from each other (actually The queen and Magnus Opjer’s letters)

-Zoya needs a plan, Nikolai must still marry one of the candidates so she fakes an affair that will end up with the future king dumping her for one of the girls. If she is lucky,Count Kirigin won’t be too put off by this but she is not against the idea of becoming a spinster. Complications arise when in one of their affair fake outs, their flirting scales too much and becomes a real thing.

Malina

-As said above, Alina Starkov was a worker on an orphanage, she was losing hope in her childhood friend confessing to her. One day he is enlisted in the army ,Alina decides to confess to him instead but just as she is going to his place to say her goodbyes she is forcefully taken. She finds out she is a lost heiress and it’s taken to the palace to be a candidate for the king’s hand

-At the beginning she acts uneducated to not get chosen, but one day she gets the news that Mal is nowhere to be found,presumed dead,body not found.Alina spends months in mourning, acting normal in public,making friends with the company lady Genya but crying the whole night. She eventually tries to distract herself by doing something with her fortune and spends some on her old orphanage and it’s both admired and frowned upon for “acting like a normal not noble ,woman” . She becomes a dismissive public figure,some want her to marry the king,some fear her to be a radical

-One day she is having a secret walk in the stables and find someone: her friend Mal,a deserter now. Alina needs to keep hiding Mal,who poses as a servant and visits her at night with the excuse of guarding her door,they both need to find a way to elope

#netflix shadow and bone #six of crows #leigh bardugo #grishaverse #crooked kingdom #nikolai duology #the grisha trilogy #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #zoya nazyalensky #nikolai lantsov #alina starkov #malyen oretsev #kanej #zoyalai #malina

[sweetcherryharry]

Begin Again — 01

Synopsis: Harry and Y/N had a secret relationship for almost two years, until they broke up. A year later, she shows up to one of his Love On Tour shows.

(masterlist)

Y/N wasn’t really sure it was the right decision when she agreed to go to a Harry Styles concert a few months ago when one of her University friends suggested they go.

It wasn’t like she didn’t enjoy his music —not even close, it was the opposite—, she had been (and still is) a massive fan of his music for more than a decade, ever since his One Direction days. She adored him, always supporting him while in the band and when he went solo, that only increased.

But three years ago, her whole perspective on him changed. He was not only Harry Styles, one of the biggest pop stars in the world, one of the members of One Direction, but he became just Harry. Her Harry.

They’d met back in August 2019, when she was studying abroad in London. She had decided to take a semester somewhere else, wanting to live the whole exchange student experience in Europe. She was almost halfway through her career and decided it was the best time to go.

Oh, how things happen for a reason.

It was her third week living in London, and ever since the first day she arrived, she had her eyes set on a small café that was located just five minutes away from her small apartment. On her third day after arriving in the city, she decided to visit it.

She had fallen in love with it. It was a two-story local that had small tables, along with some sofas, meant for one to two people in each. The café was for people who wanted to study, get work done or simply read a book in peace.

Ever since her first visit, she’d go there around three or four times a week. She didn’t usually look around at the people in the café, but on this Thursday evening, as she roamed the place to look for the best seat, her eyes got stuck on a certain person.

She could identify that frame easily, after all, at the time, she had been his fan for around eight years, and she had seen numerous videos and pictures of the famous singer on the internet. 

Harry Styles was sitting down in a small booth at the corner of the café, a book in his hands. He wore a vintage Debbie Gibson Tour t-shirt, along with a pair of jeans and worn-off white vans.

For a second, her whole world stopped. She couldn’t believe the same man she had admired for so many years was now sitting down right in front of her, looking like any other person would.

But instead of walking up to him, she decided to leave him alone to read his book. He seemed focused, his eyebrows slightly furrowed as his green eyes skimmed through the printed letters.

And honestly, she was way too nervous to even be able to talk right now. 

So, she decided to sit at one of the tables that were beside the second-floor stairs —which she always preferred, as there were fewer people there—, and she pulled her laptop from her bag, ready to complete her school work.

Of course, she wasn’t going to let the opportunity to meet him get away, but she’d wait until he seemed more available, not really wanting to interrupt his time. Her plan was to get her nerves down, wait until he stood up from his place to leave, and then finally approach.

And she was happy she did follow her plan. Almost an hour later, from the corner of her eye, she saw the young man stand up from his seat, putting his book away in his tote bag. At that moment, they were the only two people on the second floor of the café, with only the background ambient music accompanying them.

It was now or never.

She stood up from her seat and took a deep breath, taking slow steps towards the famous singer. 

“Hi Harry, I’m sorry to interrupt,” Her soft voice made him turn around, and as soon as his green eyes made contact with hers, she felt her nerves increase by a million. “I just wanted to say hi, I’m Y/N.”

He smiled at her, “Hi, Y/N, nice to meet you.” He placed his palm towards her, and she placed her smaller one in his, softly shaking it in greeting. She couldn’t believe his skin was touching his, this felt surreal. “Are you from around here?”

He had to admit, he had noticed her earlier at the café. The whole hour she had been at the café, he had glanced at her from time to time, noticing the pretty girl who was focused on her work a few feet away from him.

“No, I’m an exchange student,” She could feel her heart beating hard against her chest, “I just arrived in London a few weeks ago.” 

He nodded, his smile never leaving his features, “Welcome to London, have you been enjoying yourself here?”

“Thank you,” She smiled at him, “And yeah, it’s been amazing so far. I definitely made a great decision when I chose this city to study abroad.” 

And without any of them noticing it, time went flying by that evening as they chatted with each other. What was supposed to just be a quick conversation —Y/N thanking him for his music and the love he has for his fans—, turned into a whole full conversation. 

After a few minutes, they even took a seat again. Harry had invited her to another coffee, and she agreed. She took her things from her original table, since she was moving his, and took a seat beside the brunette at the corner of the café.

Hours passed filled with laughter and good conversations, and they finally left when one of the employees told them they were closing for the day. Before they left though, Harry had asked for her number, enjoying her presence quite a bit, and she happily gave it to him.

He had texted her that same night, letting her know he truly enjoyed meeting her that evening, and that he looked forward to more coffee and chats. 

From then on, they started to meet from time to time at that same café, growing feelings for one another with each day, until eventually, they became (secret) boyfriend and girlfriend a few months later. 

It all felt like a daydream, both feeling their heads in the clouds… until it didn’t.

They broke up two years later, around December 2021. They were perfectly in love and smitten with each other, their relationship miraculously still a secret from the public—even though she went to almost all his shows in North America's Love on Tour leg that same year—, but as life returned to normal and his schedule got extremely busy as an actor and musician, along with having to fake a relationship with Olivia Wilde on his free days, their relationship got strained.

Ever since the messy breakup almost a year ago, Y/N and Harry had not seen each other. 

Of course, during the time being, she had listened to his new album “Harry’s House”, knowing in her gut most of the songs on the album were for her. But even with that knowledge and the emotions his lyrics caused in her, she still didn’t make a move to reach out to him about it, not even with a congratulatory text.

And now, as she stood in her green and black outfit outside the Kia Forum, which was extremely decorated with colors and pictures of her ex, she didn’t how to feel. 

A ton of emotions were running through her; happiness, sadness, pride, nerves, and many more. She was extremely proud of his accomplishments, she had seen the amount of effort he’d put into each thing he did, and for that, she wanted to cry with happiness for him.

But at the same time, she felt a heavy weight on her chest. The last time she went to one of his shows had been last November, on Long Island, New York, and those were one of the last few happy moments they had together. 

“Come on, let’s get a picture!” Natalie exclaimed, pulling both of her friends (Y/N and Maia) by their hands and to the front of the Kia Forum, where you could clearly see the ‘15 Nights Live’, ‘Kia Forum is Harry’s House’, and ‘Harry Styles’ Love on Tour’ huge banners.

After the three girls got a picture together —two of them clueless that one in the trio had dated the singer for almost two years— they made their way to get inside the arena.

Maia had been the one to get the tickets, exclaiming to the girls that it would be amazing to attend one of the shows in LA since it was close to home, and they were big fans of his. Y/N couldn’t say no, especially since both of her friends were so excited about it, so she agreed.

She was still a huge fan of his music —even knew every lyric from his entire discography— and she knew how amazing the crowd was during his shows, knowing she’d immensely enjoy the vibes, too. 

And even if she didn’t want to admit it, a deep, tiny part of herself wanted to see him again. It was an even better deal that she would get to see him from afar, to avoid the awkward conversations of how they’d been the past year.

“I have to confess something to you,” Maia said, stopping both girls in their tracks. She wore a nervous smile on her lips, and Y/N couldn’t decipher if it was something positive or negative,  “I didn’t get us seats as I said, I got us floor tickets. I found a great deal, and it’s going to be so much more fun!”

Natalie instantly started jumping up and down in excitement, causing Maia to laugh. Y/N, on the other hand, forced a smile on her lips, feigning happiness to be so close to the artist they were about to see live. 

On the inside, however, her nerves increased by a million. She knew how Harry loved to interact with the crowd, and he’d usually be very observant with his fans, even remembering faces that he glimpsed at shows. 

The possibility of him seeing her tonight in the crowd just increased a lot more, which was the last thing she wanted.

But she still kept her smile on her face and thanked her friend for the surprise.

The girls went inside the arena, and Y/N was happy that even though they were in the pit, they were closer to the back of it, already hundreds of girls and boys trying to squish themselves to the barricade in front of them. 

As the lights dimmed and the introduction to Daydreaming started to sound throughout the arena, Y/N swore her heart was going to fall out of her chest with how hard it was beating. Her hands started to sweat, and she felt butterflies in her stomach.

Fans’ screams rang through the Forum as a figure started to emerge from the center of the 360 stage, and it was when she finally saw Harry that her breath got caught in her throat. 

She knew how good he was on the stage, how he was born to be on it, singing and dancing his heart out. But as the first song played and he circled the stage with a huge smile on his face, she couldn’t help but feel extreme happiness and pride.

The songs went on and on, and before she noticed it, Y/N was now singing and dancing along with her friends, her worries vanishing through the air as she noticed that he hadn’t seen her in the crowd and that he probably won’t. 

The show was closer to the end, with only five songs remaining, and she was having the time of her life. She hadn’t enjoyed a show so much in so long, ever since the last Love on Tour one she had attended almost a year ago.

The beginning of Love of My Life started playing, and as she turned to look at Harry on stage, ready to sing the lyrics along with him and the crowd, she noticed his green eyes were already on her.

Their eyes locked with each other, and she swore she saw a million emotions cross his eyes in that second. A second that felt like a whole minute, like a whole eternity.

She was the first to break the eye contact, turning to look at Natalie who was standing at her right side, trying to distract herself from the heavy feeling on her chest. 

Only that instead of finding a clueless girl, she found Natalie with a huge smile on her lips as she looked at her. “Oh my god, Harry is looking at you!”

Y/N tried to shake it off, forcing a small laugh, “He’s been looking at all the fans! That’s what he usually does at shows.” 

She turned to look at him again, and surprisingly, he still had his eyes fixated on her, sending her nerves into a mess. Fans surrounding them were taking notice of how he was staring directly at a person in the crowd as he sang the first part of the song, and they started to turn around to find the mystery person.

Finally, as Y/N was starting to get more frustrated, it seemed like Harry snapped to reality, and tore his eyes away from her, acting like that whole thing never happened.

As the show went on, he’d glance at her from time to time, trying to be as discreet as possible. Yet, she noticed how his whole mood changed from that point on. His smiles and dance moves were now forced, and even though nobody in the crowd could notice how he wasn’t being himself, Y/N did.

She dated him for almost two years, after all. They lived together for the most part of it, sharing everything and anything with each other.

But he wasn’t the only one whose mood changed. Y/N wasn’t feeling herself, either. She had been dancing and screaming the lyrics earlier, enjoying the concert with her friends, but now she was forcing the smile on her lips, only singing the songs at a regular volume.

When the show ended and the lights were turned on, Y/N felt relieved. He had seen her, yes, but nothing more happened. She wasn’t sure what she thought would happen if he saw her, but it felt like now the worse had passed.

“The show was amazing! We definitely need to do this again.” Maia said as the three girls started to make their way to the exit. 

Y/N felt her phone vibrate twice in the pocket of her jeans, and at first, she was confused as to why it would, since she had ‘Do Not Disturb’ on. But as she took her phone in her hands, her eyes widened when she saw who had texted her. There was only one contact in the exceptions for the Do Not Disturb mode...

H: Heyy

H: Please stay where you are. A bodyguard will come to get you in a few minutes when the pit has emptied a little to bring you backstage. xx H

Well, fuck.

#harrystyles #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #harry imagine #harry #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles series #love on tour #harry x reader

[cosmicskittlez]

I bring to you 2 dating headcanons for each pairing in starlos poly posse

Starlo x Ed: -Sometimes Starlo asks Ed to carry him around during whatever missions they do, ranging from slinging him over Ed's shoulder to grabbing him by the scruff of his shirt -When Ed first moved in Starlo practically refused to just let him sleep in a hole in the ground but has since settled to allow it, so long as he's allowed to give the occasional sleep cuddles

Starlo x Moray:

-Moray was the first person in the posse to see Starlo without his hat, as they were the first he was able to get fully comfortable around

-At one point they both tried to do the kiss behind the hat thing and ended up bonking each other with their own hats, they still laugh about it and reenact it sometimes Starlo x Ace -Ace will never admit to this but the reason he sleeps in the hammock is so he can have a clear view of Starlo when he watches his westerns, seeing him sitting at the tv helps lull him to sleep -Starlo has always considered Ace his second in command even if he never outright says it, and on anyday he can't be acting sheriff he knows he can put his automatic trust in him Starlo x Mooch -Starlo is the only person to know Mooch hasn't come from the best backgrounds, growing up in a pretty poor part of New Home and often having to fend for herself. Starlo was one of few people who was willing to trust her despite her background -Mooch's new favorite thing to steal is kisses, and every time she distracts Starlo he falls for it every time. Moray x Ed -Anytime they work together be it on a mission or just cooking dinner they're perfectly in sync, able to work off of each other extraordinarily well and helping at just the right times. -Moray can get overheated pretty easily given they're a literal fish out of water so Ed acts as their shade, something he's more than ok with doing seeing as they can kiss much easier this way. Moray x Ace -They like to dance in the barn in their spare time, going from waltzes to tangoes with giggles in their steps -Moray doesn't get down in the dumps often, but anytime they do and Ace can tell. And by the end of the day Moray ends up with more love letters slipped into their pockets than they can carry

Moray x Mooch -They love to annoy each other on purpose, often making a game out of Mooch stealing Moray's rapier and Moray stealing it right back, seeing how many times in a day they can keep it going between them -Every now and then Mooch will forgo her stealing nature and instead buy something for Moray, something meaningful to them, knowing it'll be more worth it Ed x Mooch -Mooch likes to hide around in Ed's jacket and see how long she can go without being noticed. Ed can tell everytime from the first minute, but he pretends not to notice so he can hear her giggles -Mooch isn't the best cook but she likes to cook for Ed, making multiple smaller portions so can feed him and practice variety at the same time Ed x Ace -They don't open up to each other verbally often, but they more then make up for it with their actions. Ace acts as Ed's reminder to take breaks and to keep his temper and Ed helps Ace around when his stamina runs low -Ace likes to talk to Ed during the late hours of the night when they're both restless, talking about the past and future and the everything in between. Its much more casual than normal dates but they prefer it this way Mooch x Ace -Ace has a not so secret soft spot for Mooch and often admires her grit and positivity, and he more often than not helps her with her smaller thieverys -The first time Mooch kissed Ace he was flustered for the whole day, barely able to get out a word. The whole posses teases him for it but they always wish they were there to do it too

#undertale yellow #uty starlo #uty ed #uty ace #uty moray #uty mooch #the feisty five #listen theyre all dating at the same time you cant change my mind #uty poly posse

[strkyoo]

✦ 彡 OCTOBER PASSED ME BY

pairing ; various fem genshin characters x fem!reader — slight fluff to angst w/ no comfort ! 

warnings ; break-ups?, reader died in some part, a bit of desperation in some part too, light tw on the last part?? (talking abt deaths), gamon (gagal move on/failed to move on) yahaha — wc ; 0.9k

kyo’s note ; awal oktober is like “we fell in love in october” while akhir oktober is “october passed me by”‼️‼️ SO TRUE (im not ok) (i also got lazy at the end u could tell)

〉MASTERLIST〈

i keep the letters that you wrote in a secret place.

when you two were still together, you always bought things that reminded each of you of each other. plush toys, jewelry, matching outfits, and other items. letters are also included—she loves to exchange letters with you, especially when you’re away from each other.

but now, all the things you bought for her are all meaningless. without you by her side anymore, what does these things even mean to her? these things now had no value. the urge to break them and get those things out of her sight is just… too intense. yet, she can’t. she knew your last wish for her was to take care of the things you had bought for her. she hides them in a secret place, sometimes would look at them and gradually think about how these things used to make her smile like a fool. oh, how she missed this feeling— how she missed you.

YOIMIYA, FOCALORS, amber, xiangling, ganyu, KIRARA, LISA, NINGGUANG, keqing.

yeah, i got bitter when you got cold, and could you really blame me though?

you were a sweetheart in her eyes. someone so sweet, soft, kind, gentle. someone who impossibly can do a crime, someone who wouldn’t and won’t break her heart—someone as perfect as an angel.

at least, that’s what she thought before certain things happened between you and her.

here she is—looking at you like someone she utterly despises, despite the fact that she used to swear to the archons that she’ll cherish you and protect you forever. you got bitter from time to time, and she got cold and hurt as a result. well, things changed, right? and she still couldn’t help to miss your subtle smile that always made her forget about the weights around her shoulders.

ARLECCHINO, yelan, RAIDEN EI, shenhe, candice, DEHYA, KUKI SHINOBU.

you know this song is about you, who else could it be?

she wrote a poem about you, about how perfect you are. she sang for you, about how she couldn’t get enough of your love. she takes loads of photos of you, admiring how gorgeous you look from every angle. she would do anything for you. you are the love of her life after all.

but you left her alone. you left her side. words couldn’t express how much this hurt her internally. she couldn’t stop re-reading the poem she wrote about you, she couldn’t stop humming your favorite songs, she couldn’t stop looking at your angelic photos. she couldn’t let you go.

XINGYAN, CHARLOTTE, ayaka, nilou, yun jin, BARBARA.

you were the first to make me feel like i was me.

she never felt any feelings like this when she’s with you. it feels… weird. in a good way. how her eyes softened when she saw you, how her face would heat up, how her heart rate increased, how the mingling and odd ticklish feelings filled her stomach and how the overwhelming feelings slowly destroyed her in the most heavenly way. she can be herself around you, and that’s the only thing she wished to feel once in her life.

but that was the first and last time she would ever have that feeling. she couldn’t feel the same way anymore. she couldn’t love another person in the same way that she loves you. and this was the first and the last time that she would be able to feel love and pain in such a way.

CLORINDE, sucrose, LYNETTE, ROSARIA, eula, mona, KOKOMI, KUJOU SARA, collei, noelle.

i made you my whole world.

she imagined a lovely future for your relationship. she imagined how she’ll wake up right next to you in your shared bed, how she’ll start a lazy morning with you—spending the rest of her life with you by her side.

but fate said otherwise. and it was being really, really cruel. archons above, why would they take you apart from other people? she just can’t imagine a life without you. it’s impossible—it feels like she is losing the sun of her life—the hope of her life. she just wanted you and only you. oh what is she supposed to do without you?

yanfei, LUMINE, faruzan, mona, LAYLA, fischl.

always in the back of my mind, you’ll be my girl.

the combination of all the parts—she did everything and anything for you.

she keeps the things that remind her of you, she wrote poems about how perfect you were for her. you were the first who made her feel like herself—she made you her whole world. you were her everything, her other half… she just couldn’t let you go. she cherishes you dearly, even if death could separate you from her—she would gladly die with you.

NAVIA, YAE MIKO, la signora, jean, BEIDOU, HU TAO.

likes, comments & reblogs are appreciated ! ♡ 

— © strkyoo.

#✦ — kyo’s writing !! #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin impact x you #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #angst #angst no comfort #angst no happy ending #x reader #x fem reader #genshin x fem reader #genshin women x fem reader #genshin angst #i couldnt fit all characters on the tags ugrhrhr #genshin wlw #wlw

[bethanydelleman]

Jane fairfax anon here with another question 😭 I'm curious as to how secret engagements actually worked? I can understand for edward and lucy that they lived in the same house and were cousins, there must have been some moments when they were alone, just the two of them. But how did jane and frank manage it without attracting the notice of the Campbells and their other acquaintances? If they spent too much time with each other they would have attracted attention. Also, from Sense and Sensibility I understood that it was impossible to receive a letter without the whole household knowing about it. The only plausible explanation is that Jane sneaked out at night lmao but that doesn't really sit with her character? I'm curious about what you think, how do you think they managed to meet in private, often and enough to get into and arrange a secret engagement?

Hey! So quick correction first, Edward and Lucy are not cousins (Mrs. Jennings and Lucy are allegedly cousins, I wouldn't put it past Lucy to make that up). But yes, she would visit her uncle while Edward was at school and then when he was hanging out after graduating. They had a lot of time possibly alone.

On to Jane Fairfax! We actually have some clues as to how they met and fell in love. Firstly, the Campbells might know a lot more than they let on:

With regard to her not accompanying them to Ireland, her account to her aunt contained nothing but truth, though there might be some truths not told. It was her own choice to give the time of their absence to Highbury; to spend, perhaps, her last months of perfect liberty with those kind relations to whom she was so very dear: and the Campbells, whatever might be their motive or motives, whether single, or double, or treble, gave the arrangement their ready sanction, and said, that they depended more on a few months spent in her native air, for the recovery of her health, than on any thing else.

This is about Jane not accompanying the family to Ireland, where obviously it would be hard for her to meet with Frank. I will be bold enough to say that the Campbells probably have strong suspicions of an attachment, if not outright knowledge of the engagement. Maybe Frank was going to try and go with them but he was denied by his aunt?

Next, some hints, mostly dropped by Frank Churchill:

I met her frequently at Weymouth. I had known the Campbells a little in town; and at Weymouth we were very much in the same set.... I have been used to hear her’s admired; and I remember one proof of her being thought to play well:—a man [Mr. Dixon], a very musical man, and in love with another woman [Miss Campbell]—engaged to her—on the point of marriage—would yet never ask that other woman [Jane] to sit down to the instrument, if the lady in question could sit down instead—never seemed to like to hear one if he could hear the other.

Now this last statement from Frank gives Emma suspicions, but there is an easy second explanation. By having Jane play, Mr. Dixon could talk in confidence to Miss Campbell. But we know Frank can't stay away from the instrument, he was no doubt there, turning her music pages and singing duets. Also, sounds like they hung out at Weymouth a lot. We know they both danced and sang duets at Weymouth.

The early letter from Jane to her grandmother also gives me suspicions:

and as Jane used to be very often walking out with them—for Colonel and Mrs. Campbell were very particular about their daughter’s not walking out often with only Mr. Dixon, for which I do not at all blame them

So either Frank (who seems to have a lot of autonomy to travel within England) is meeting them during these walks in London or Miss Campbell is taking Jane to the post office. Sneaky sneaks!!!

I also suspect that it was Frank, not Mr. Dixon, who saved Jane from falling off the sailboat. This would be perfect actually because Emma's suspicions that Jane fell in love with Mr. Dixon also stem from this dramatic episode.

I do think it is a whirlwind engagement, but the key really seems to be Weymouth and I have strong suspicions that Miss Campbell was playing matchmaker.

#slutty slutty pianoforte page turning #question response #great question! #jane fairfax #frank churchill #jane austen #emma #secret engagement

[dollywony]

hi girly!! I absolutely loved your yandere miles fairchild fic and I was wondering if you could write another one?

maybe where the reader (female) is a dancer and has been getting letters in her dance bag from a mysterious secret admirer (being miles) who only signs his letters using M.F. or something like that. maybe the reader then gets freaked out because he starts threatening her saying that he knows where she lives and gets really specific on things that only she would know. then maybe when she is asleep in her apartment one night he finally goes to take action and takes her with him. maybe reader wakes up because miles is caressing her face (like he did with kate in the movie) and she wakes up and he confesses who he is and then takes her?

I know this is very specific, and if you can get to this great but if not then don't worry about it.

meant to be - m.f

pairing(s): miles x reader

summary: your secret admirer took the first step in confessing, but you wanted nothing to do with him.

a/n: hey babe ty for requesting!! 💕💕💐 + sorry 4 making you wait!! ☹️☹️

wc: 1.4k+

It's now eight at night and you're beyond tired. Dancing constantly nonstop exhausts your body, but you need something to take your mind off what was going on. The whole situation was creeping you out. The letters you would find after packing was the cherry on top in making you hurl. The one from yesterday was the worst so far.

To the angel of my dreams,

Y/n, you don’t know how much I wanted to fucking kill that man for even talking to you. To make matters worse, you basically threw yourself onto him even after he hurt you. Do you know how much that hurts? Seeing you being unloyal to me. Y/n i'm on my last straw. I know everything about you, yet you seem unfazed. Why is that? Is it because you don't believe me? Is It because you don't believe I'll do anything to you? Believe me doll, i dont want to but youre making it so fucking hard.

You live in apartment complex #127. The pin number is 6250. Don't even bother changing it love, it takes four days for your complaint to actually be dealt with. You know, I still have the paperclip you gave to me that day. It's my best possession.

You drive me crazy darling. Spritzing your miss dior perfume that you received from your sister on christmas daily. It's almost empty though, maybe I'll get you another one.

Your laugh, your emotions, fuck your everything is so worth every penny i hold to my name. You’ll be mine one way or another.

Yours devotedly and lovingly,

M.F

You didn’t even reread that letter, discarding it the moment you were done reading it. Who even was M.F? What did he want? More importantly how the did he know any fucking thing he shouldnt know about you?

It was hard to even try and pinpoint who M.F was. You were in school during the day and as soon as it finished, you would go to the studio. In the studio you would dance and dance until you felt as if your legs were going to break. By the time you would get home, you would instantly pass out. Sometimes it would range through ten to twelve.

Looking through your bag, you discovered the letter he left today. As you tore open the envelope you unfolded the paper.

You were confused. Why did the letter just say today? It was written horribly too, as if he was in a rush. Instead of his usual neat calligraphy, the word was contorted and out of line.

Did he mean he's going to do something today or did he mean today as if he was stopping all letters to you from today? You hoped it was the latter. Crumpling up the letter in your hand, you were wary that he would pop up anywhere. Who knows maybe he was following you right now. Maybe he was in the dance studio with you.

You felt uncomfortable. There was this weird, cold feeling that shot down your body. Your eyes looked at every crevice but you couldn’t find a hint of anyone hiding.

Sighing you finished packing your bag and got up to finally go home. You were tired. Tired of whoever M.F was. Tired of his sick, scary letters.

Getting out of the taxi, you were finally home. Walking up the stairs, you greeted mrs. Abbott next door. She was awfully sweet, always making the best cookies.

“Hi dearie!” She cheered, grinning widely at you. “Hi Mrs. Abbott, how are you?” You replied, sending the grin back. “Oh I'm doing quite well! How about you?” she questioned. “Oh I'm about to go to bed soon, have a goodnight!” you finished with a chuckle. “Alright sweetie! Have a good sleep!” you hear her say as you fumble to get your keys out.

Opening your door, you threw your bag down near your desk. Stumbling towards your bathroom, you couldn’t help but think why M.F had such an infatuation with you. It made your head hurt.

Stepping in your shower, you were quick to clean up. Wanting the day to finally be over, you were more than eager to help. Getting the covers over your body, you swiftly fell asleep unaware of the pair of eyes that emerged from underneath your bed.

Fast asleep, Miles crawled out from under your bed sighing. Seeing you sleep was even prettier up close. He thought, approaching your unconscious figure. Slowly sitting down on your bed trying not to wake you, he let his hand stroke your hair. Your hair was so pretty just like you.

Miles’s grin grew as he envisioned you in his bed as he protected you just like this. Well maybe he didn’t help you, but he felt like he was protecting you. Grabbing your hand, he interlocked it with his. Miles couldn't think of anything that made him happier than this.

Leaning in, he let loose of your hair going to caress your face. As his hand came in contact with your face, he felt euphoric. The feeling of your soft, delicate skin with his hand was so much and more for him. Miles closed his eyes and continued to caress. Being this close with you, even touching your skin made him ecstatic.

Waking up, you feel this sensation on your right cheek. Widening your eyes, you realized someone other than you was here. You see a boy with furious curls sitting next to you. He was rather good looking but that thought left your soul the moment you realized he was touching you.

“Fuck! Get off me!” You shrieked as you shoved the mysterious man off your bed. He grunts as he hits the floor. “Who are you?” You screeched, getting up to get your phone but he had grabbed your ankle making you fall face plant onto the floor.

“Not so fast Angel.” His voice, jagged and raspy, came out. “I need to tell you something.”

“What do you mean tell me something! You freak leave!” You wailed out, distressed from who this man was.

Ignoring your words, he stood up, grabbing you by your wrist and forcefully laid you down on your bed once again. Terrified, thoughts ran through your head trying to piece who this man was. Was he just your typical robber? Or was he here to kill you? Or worse. Was he M.F? Fuck what if he was? What would you even do?

Feeling the presence of the man above you snapped you out of your thoughts. “I know you’re worried. I know you’re scared. In fact, I know everything about you Y/n. You're so pretty and nice and kind.. Fuck. I love you. I love you Y/n.” he blabbered, holding eye contact with you.

“Who are you?” you questioned again, needing an answer right away. You were on edge. What if he was actually M.F? “Darling, i knew you were a bit stupid but this is rather severe.” he chuckled, dragging his finger along your cheek affectionately.

Just as you were going to ask him the question again, he cut you off. “Y/n have you ever wondered what M.F stood for?” he said, getting off you slowly walking around your room. Before you could even answer, he continued on. “M.F, it's rather peculiar you know? Why would he even know that much about you? It's creepy and weird.” Shaking your head in slight agreement, the man had a growing smile.

“Well Y/n, I am M.F. I am Miles Fairchild. I am the man who sends you creepy little letters. The very letters you throw out daily but it doesn’t matter. I know you’ll love me back. Reading my letters instead of instantly throwing them out was a sign that I knew. I knew you were the one. Y/n I love you so much.” The admiration was oozing from his mouth.

Not responding, Miles took this as a cue to step closer to you. “I’m really really sorry Y/n.” He said, shuffling around to take something out of his pocket. “You’re sorry for wh-“ you questioned but got cut off as miles hit the back of your neck, knocking you out.

“So sorry Angel, really.” Miles muttered as he dragged your body out to his car. Shutting his car door, he turned the radio on. Humming along with the tune of the song, he turned to your unconscious figure and smiled.

He was happy for once. He was sure he’d make you happy too.

#dollywony #iris blog #iri writes!! #miles fairchild #miles fairchild x reader #yandere #yandere miles fairchild x reader #the turning #finn wolfhard #finn wolfhard x reader

[gemini-sensei]

I’m sorry if this is incoherent I’m just having a lot of feelings about this

But what if Eli stops writing anonymous love letters for popular!reader when he becomes Hawk because he thinks it’s not cool or whatever

And what if popular!reader now gets a little disappointed every time that she opens her locker because she was expecting another letter from her secret admirer and they’ve stopped writing to her

And what if now that Eli is Hawk he finally feels brave enough to ask out popular!reader

But what if she has already fallen in love with the sweet and kind words of her secret admirer so she turns him down because she doesn’t know that HE’S THE SECRET ADMIRER

If she doesn’t say why she turns him down it could end angsty

If she does explain why she turns him down he could write her another letter but this time put his name on it or give it to her in person so that she finds out that he’s the one she’s in love with and they can make out now

No, it's perfect and I love it!

Eli making the change to Hawk is a big move. He basically rewrites himself and takes out anything that is deemed "uncool." Sappy love letters included. After all, they weren't getting him anywhere.

So he takes a better approach, getting himself ready to ask Reader out. He makes himself into a badass, one of the cool students at the dojo, one of the best. Nothing can go wrong with that, but he has to prove himself first, so he takes his training seriously.

In the meantime, Reader is disheartened when the letters stop coming. At first, she thought that perhaps her admirer was sick or out of town, something that would explain away the missing letters. But as the weeks drag on and no more come, she doesn't know what to make of it. She had really started to question who was behind the letters and trying to figure out who it was. She wanted to meet this person that was writing her such sweet words and telling her how amazing she was. Now they're just gone.

Though she has the previous letters, it feels like a lost cause to try and find him. After all, why would he stop sending the letters unless he didn't like her anymore?

She holds onto the letters because they're the most touching, sentimental thing anyone has ever done for her. However, they just make her fall for her secret admirer more. She can't help it, as if it were inevitable.

So when Hawk is finally confident enough to approach her, he has no idea what he's in for.

"Hey, Reader!" he calls out, stopping her from walking down the hall. She turns with a small smile, making his grin widen. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

"Sure, what's up?" she asks sweetly.

He feels his heart rate pick up, the thumping so loud in his ears that he's worried she might hear it. For a moment, he feels like the old Eli, but quickly composes himself. He takes a deep breath and smiles. "I was wondering if you wanted to do something this Friday. Maybe we could go to Golf n' Stuff?"

Reader continues to smile at him, but it falters some. She think highly of Hawk, knowing that he's grown a lot in the last few months. However, her heart belongs to another and she doesn't want to string him along. "Oh, man. I'm sorry, Hawk. I can't do that."

His brow furrows, confused and hurt. "Why not?"

"It wouldn't be fair to you," she explains vaguely. She opens her mouth to say more, explain that she likes someone else, but the words catch in her throat. She doesn't want to tell him about her secret admirer, wishing to keep it her littler secret. Only a few of her friends know how she feels about the whole situation. So she surmises to say, "I like someone else, but it's complicated."

"How complicated is it?"

She bites her lip. "It's... kinda silly, I guess. I don't know if he likes me or not."

"Well, if he can't be a man and ask you out, you deserve better than that. Who is-"

"It's no one," she cuts him off, cheeks burning. She's a little embarrassed, knowing that most people would be unsure about the whole thing; she was also worried she would be judged and seen as silly. "I mean, um... it's nothing, really. I'm sorry."

Flustered, she turns around and leave him in the dust. It's hard to explain and she doesn't know how, but fleaing doesn't feel much better either. She scurried away, not knowing how else to handle the situation.

Hawk watches her, heartbroken. This has been the moment he's been working toward for months, not to mention the years he spent crushing on Reader before that. The worst part of it all, he's angry because whoever she likes has made her doubt herself. She saw it on her face when she spoke about him.

He bows his head and walks away, shaking his head in disbelief. However, it's not because he got rejected. It's because he can't believe someone would leave her in limbo waiting for him to make a move, all while making her feel down and confused over the whole thing.

#popular!reader #eli hawk moskowitz x reader #eli hawk moskowitz #eli moskowitz headcanons #eli moskowitz imagine #eli moskowitz x reader #eli moskowitz x chubby reader #eli moskowitz #hawk moskowitz x chubby reader #hawk moskowitz x reader #hawk moskowitz #hawk moskowitz blurb #cobra kai blurb #angst blurbs #cobra kai #cobra kai headcanons #cobra kai x reader #cobra kai x chubby reader #cobra kai x plus size reader #chubby reader #plus size reader #gemini sensei

[ass-deep-in-demons]

never the same river

Fandom: A Song of Ice and Fire Pairing: Ned Stark x Catelyn Tully Stark Tropes: developing relationship, arranged marriage, fluff and spice, mutual pining, idiots in love, dirty talk Rating: T+ Words: 2k Summary: Ned learns Catelyn used to be fond of swimming. He has no idea what he's doing.

for @nedcatweek day 6 prompt: "I want you to feel at home" [AO3]

“It is beautiful here,” Catelyn said, looking around. Ned observed her as she dismounted and gave the reins away to one of their host, before they were left alone. The weather had reached this sweet spot on the cusp of high season, when it was warm, but not hot enough to become unbearable. Late though and tentative, summer had indeed come to the North. The ice floe on the river had long melted, the flowers were yet in bloom, but the trees had for some weeks now been clad in the most verdant foliage, making one forget that the Winter was, indeed, coming. (Because Winter was coming. Tomorrow, or in twenty years, it was always coming, Ned knew.)

The idea to come here had arisen in Ned’s mind during the cold months. He had to bear Catelyn’s nostalgic looks on Harvest Day, then her barely visible flinches and chills in response to the cold drafts in the castle during winter. Though she might hide it well, Catelyn did not feel at home.

“What are we to do now, my Lord?” Catelyn asked and looked at him. Would that he could find his words easily. Alas, he’d never been skillful in conveying his meaning. Why had he brought her here? What were they going to do now? He wasn’t sure himself.

He wanted her to feel more at home. The Sept that he’d commissioned for her two winters prior hadn’t been enough, if her wistful sighing and withering glances were anything to judge by. Ned blamed himself. If only he’d made her feel more welcome. He had tried to keep her company whenever he could, but he wasn’t sure if his quiet, brooding presence had been any help, or if it had only made things worse. (Because he’d been brooding, Gods help him. He knew he’d been.)

With the first vestiges of spring, Ser Brynden Tully had come to Winterfell, bearing greetings and letters from Lord Hoster. The Blackfish had stayed in their Castle a fortnight and spent most of those mornings observing little Robb at play, and most of the evenings trying to get Ned to drink with him. Ned had very good reasons to not over indulge (what with the secrets he carried), but he would indulge a little, on occasion. And so he had played the gracious host, indulged a little in the cups with his guest, and had used the opportunity to pry subtly about Catelyn’s life back in Riverrun. One of the memories shared by Brynden had struck him as a particularly happy one. It was that of young Catelyn and Lysa going swimming in the Red Fork River in the summer. So, Catelyn liked river swimming… This seemed to Ned an extravagant passtime, but what did he know? He was from the North; he did not understand southern customs, and therein lay the whole problem.

“I thought we could go swimming in the river,” he said simply. 

“... Swimming, my Lord?” she asked. Had he announced he was going to re-paint the walls of Castle Black bright crimson, her eyes could not have gotten any rounder. Taking her swimming had been his plan, ridiculous though it might now seem. The swift currents of White Knife, sure to be carrying the chill of northern glaciers even now, did not seem particularly enticing, he had to admit.

He regarded his Lady. She looked beautiful when surprised. To be precise, she looked beautiful at all times and all moods, to Ned at least. He would admire her quietly when she would glide through Winterfell, swishing about in her gowns, which she took to tailoring according to Northern fashion, but which retained the elegance and lightness of the worldly South. She would brighten his dour abode with her mere presence, but here, among nature, with the warm sun glinting in her teal eyes and setting her hair aflame? Catelyn Tully took his breath away.

“Perhaps the hot springs near your castle would serve better for that purpose, my Lord?” Catelyn asked, when he prolonged his silence. Her surprise had turned into visible amusement. “You know you can call for me whenever you want for company in the pools…”

Ned felt his ears turn red at the memory of their last time at the hot springs. He had noticed the cold did not serve his Lady well, and proposed they visit the caverns in the Godswoods, where the temperature in the pools was particularly high, so that she could warm herself and forget about the snowstorms that had been plaguing Winterfell. Catelyn had accepted this offer, but, instead of an endeavor towards the betterment of her health, she thought it primarily an effort to introduce some variety to their marital duties. And so their hot spring experience quickly turned… steamy. 

Not that their bedroom needed any more steam. Ned would visit Catelyn’s chambers regularly, although never without her prior invitation. And she would invite him often. Every other night, in fact, whenever she was not through her menses. Ned knew this was what Maester Luwin advised her in order to quicken again, as Catelyn was bent on giving him another son.

Thing was, Catelyn had already given him one perfect son. Whenever Ned even looked at little Robb, he could not help but wonder. He had never thought he would ever get to be this happy. Not after… After… More still, she had given him another child, a sweet little babe, a daughter. Sansa favored her mother, and that made her beautiful to Ned’s eyes. Still, his Lady wanted to bear him another son, and it didn’t seem likely she’d give up before achieving that goal.

He could not help but feel guilty. Was it because of Jon? Was it that because Jon existed, she felt like one legitimate son wasn’t enough? Oh, he did feel guilty, after Jon, unworthy of those constant invitations to her bedchamber of wonders. For all his guilt, he’d never suggested that one heir was enough, though. He wondered if he maybe should, for her peace of mind, but then their nighttime activities would likely cease, and he just couldn't give her up. Wretched as he was, he came to rely completely on the reprieve that her touch offered. He would not show it, but most days he lusted after her, he awaited her signal impatiently like a man starved. It took a lot of effort on his part to not lose himself utterly with her, to not bite her soft, creamy skin, to not yank her lush red hair, not to take her a little too eagerly. She seemed so delicate, so refined. Ladylike.

He had earned the nickname the Quiet Wolf, because in his boyhood he’d been perceived as calm, in contrast to Brandon. Ah, Brandon… How his brother would now mock him, if he could see him so… lovesick. Ned had always been the sensible one. The reserved one. But not with Catelyn, he wasn’t. Not after having tasted her. Sometimes he thought one look of her eyes alone could make the wolfblood in him awaken. The wolfblood that he had used to doubt he had a drop of, but that he could now feel cursing through his veins whenever she lay under him. He restrained himself, fearful of offending her and losing her good graces, losing the privilege of sharing her bed, that he had nearly forfeited when he had brought Jon in. So he tried to remain calm during their couplings. Calm, gentle. Attentive to her whims and needs. He made sure she had her pleasure too, because Gods knew he had his aplenty with her.

“What is the true purpose of this outing, my Lord?” Catelyn asked, snapping him out of his musings. She was getting impatient, Ned knew. No wonder - they had spent the entire morning on horseback to get here, on his urging, and he’d kept her in the dark as to their destination. “Why have you brought me here?”

Ned sighed.

“Ser Brynden has told me you were fond of the river as a child,” he said. He could not bear to look her in the eye, so he instead looked at the murmuring crystalline waters. “I wanted you to feel more at home…”

Catelyn’s expression darkened visibly, at that. This was, apparently, the wrong thing to say, though for the love of the Old Gods, Ned could not figure out why.

“You do not get it, do you?” she grumbled, and he could tell she was bitter. He said nothing, as was his way, and let her speak. “I’ve lived here for four summers already! Winterfell is my home! Would that you saw it. Would that my welcome here was warmer.”

“What do you mean?” Ned was alarmed by her outburst. “Have I not seen to your comforts, my Lady? Has anyone in the Castle mistreated you?” Whoever had wronged her, Ned would not let them get away with it.

Catelyn sighed and shook her head, dejected.

“The truth is, I do find the North so very… cold,” she said quietly. “And not for all the snow and winter winds… I know I am unlike the women around here. Not as… hardy. The glances I sometimes get... I am a foreigner in everyone’s eyes. And, worse still, in your eyes…” She looked so sad that Ned’s very heart clenched painfully. “Sometimes I feel like I shall never belong.”

“No,” Ned rushed to appease her. He took her hand in his, hoping she’d turn around, hoping she’d look at him. “Of course your place is here! You are my Lady. My wife!”

“That I am…” She uttered a mirthless chuckle. “And you are ever so dutiful a husband. So stern, so focused, when you come to my chambers.”

“Have I been amiss with my attentions towards you?” Her comment, offhand as it was, stung deeply. He prided himself on doing his very best whenever they lay together.

“I do not deny that you are.. attentive,” she whispered. “Yet I always wonder if you even want to be there. With me.” The vulnerability in her voice rendered him near speechless. He hated himself for making her feel this way, for letting it come to this. 

“Wherever else would I be?” he asked, genuinely bewildered by the very concept.

“You tell me,” said Catelyn and finally regaled him with a look. Though her words were quiet and her face ablush, thunder and lightning danced in her eyes.

Ned was frustrated. He was well aware of his many social shortcomings, and of how much Jon’s presence had soured things between them, but he had been trying his very best to be a good husband to her. He’d made many attempts at conveying how much she meant to him, but all of his efforts had failed, it seemed. He felt his temper rise, for the first time perhaps where she was involved.

“Then what would you have me do, my Lady?” he asked, not trying overly hard to smooth his speech this time. “Would you want me to grab you by your beautiful, downright sinful hair and take you roughly against the wall? Would that convince you of my commitment?”

This was, shockingly, somehow the right thing to say. Catelyn’s entire face brightened momentarily and it made something in Ned’s stomach stir in anticipation.

“You would want me like that?” she asked, breathless. Contrary to Ned’s every prediction, she did not look appalled nor frightened by the idea of them coupling roughly.

“I have… thought about it,” he admitted carefully. Her expression softened further, so he allowed himself to reveal even more. “In truth, I have been thinking of little else for many months now…”

“And you like my hair?” she asked.

Ned did like her hair, Gods help him, and he liked how her voice vibrated with excitement. He’d suddenly got many more ideas on how to make his wife feel more at home…

This is my contribution to NedCat Week 2024. Thrilled to be part of it and in awe of all the awesome writers making it happen <3

[my fanfiction masterpost]

#ned stark #catelyn stark #catelyn tully stark #nedcat #nedcatweek2024 #nedcat week 2024 #ned x cat #ned stark x catelyn stark #asoiaf #asoiaf fanfiction #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfiction #got fanfiction #eddard stark #[song of ice and fire] #ass deep in demons

[kokorosfanfics]

Hi! I was wondering if you were able to do some fluff of a character that you would like to do! And can it be gender neutral?

Awesome, I've been requested to write literally anything I want as long as it's fluff. -Mod Kokoro

Beloved of The Supreme Leader. Kokichi Ouma x Reader!

Every day when you came into class, you were always met with something on your desk. Always some kind of gift. Sometimes you found chocolates and candies, other times you found poetry and letters, or occasionally flowers. Sometimes you'd find cute accessories and trinkets. It was obvious someone had a crush on you. But there was the mystery. Who was it?

Today, you came into class like any other day. There it was, a lovely gift box sitting on your desk. It was just waiting for you to open it.

"Wooooow S/O. Someone must reeeeeeaaally like you!" Your best friend, Kokichi Ouma said.

"Gee, really? What was your first clue?" You joked as you went to see what your secret admirer gave you this time.

Kokichi sat right next to you in class. You'd spend most of class time goofing off, hardly ever doing actual work. It was nice, actually. Just two best friends living their lives joyfully without a care in the world. Who could ask for more?

Well. There was something. You secretly wished you were more than just friends with Kokichi. The truth was, you had fallen for him. But you had no idea how he felt about you. You didn't want to risk potentially making things awkward, so you always kept quiet. Secretly, you hoped the secret admirer was Kokichi all along.

"Come oooooon S/O! Let's see what he got you." Kokichi enthusiastically awaited for you to open it.

"Alright, alright." You giggled as you began to slowly unwrap it.

Kokichi bit his lip in anticipation, but you didn't catch it.

"S/O. I've been sending you gifts for quite sometime now. I feel confident now that I am ready to tell you to your face how I feel about you. After school ends, I want to meet by the roof on the side closest to the sun. See you soon."

"Soooo what's it say?" Your best friend asked.

"It says he wants to meet today on the roof after class today!" You exclaimed.

"Are you gonna meet him?"

"Heck yeah I'm gonna meet him! I've been wanting to who this is since this first started!" You jumped in excitement. You'd finally get to meet your secret admirer! You could barely contain your excitement.

"Usually his letters aren't in boxes. Is there something else in there perhaps?" He asked.

"You're right, there probably is." You looked again inside the box. Kokichi was right. Inside was a heart necklace. It was silver, but with the right side of the heart shining in a beautiful purple.

"Wow!" You breathed in amazement. After sliding it around your neck, you turned to face your best friend.

"How do I look?" You asked excitedly.

"Nee heehee! I think it's lovely. You look cute wearing that." He told you. Was that a slight tint of pink on his cheeks?

Eventually, the rest of your classmates came in. Class was about to start, so you both sat down as you waited. You were in the back row closest by the window. The two of you had a whole corner to yourselves that the class liked to call "The Clown Corner."

An hour had already passed, and your phone buzzed. You pulled it out to find a text from Kokichi.

Kokichi: So who do you think your admirer is?

S/O: I'm not sure, but I have a hunch.

Kokichi: Tell meeee!

S/O: I don't wanna say just yet in case I jinx it.

Kokichi: Do you already like somebody?

S/O: Perhaps. But I won't say who.

Kokichi: I can't believe my greatest friend doesn't trust me! :(

S/O: I don't want you to tease me!

Kokichi: What, me? Teasing you? I could never!

S/O: Like how you never tease Kiibo for being a robot?

Kokichi: Touche.

Kokichi: So anyways, I need to start something before I die of boredom from this class.

All of the sudden, a piece of lead hit Tenko in the back of her head.

"Ouch! Who did that?" She turned behind her to see Kaito, absentmindedly doing his work.

"You degenerate male! You have some nerve throwing lead at me! HIYAAAAAAAH!" She karate chopped him so hard he fell out of his seat.

"HEY! WHAT WAS THAT FOR?" He shouted.

"GRRRR YOU KNOW WHAT THAT WAS FOR!"

"I LITERALLY DID NOT DO ANYTHING TO YOU!" Kaito yelled.

"YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO YELL AT ME! I'LL THROW YOU OUT THE WINDOW SO FAST!"

"OH YEAH? THROW ME! I DARE YOU!"

"Mkay, you know what kids? Step out." Your teacher made them leave the class with him.

You pulled out your phone.

S/O: LMAO that was so you, wasn't it?

Kokichi: I can't believe I'm being accused! We all knew it was Kaito."

S/O: Yeah that's a lie.

Kokichi: Yup it was.

S/O: Was framing Kaito a bonus?

Kokichi: It certainly was.

You and Kokichi giggled to each other. You knew he and Kaito butted heads often, so you could feel the satisfaction he got from Kaito getting into trouble.

The door opened, and in stepped Tenko. She strutted to her seat with pride, and Kaito could be heard cussing from afar. Your teacher had a grouchy look on his face.

"Nyeh? Tenko where's Kaito?" Himiko asked.

"Pfft! That degenerate male got sent to the principals office." She flipped her hair.

Kokichi laughed even harder. He put a hand over his mouth, trying to keep his composure as best as he could. You did the same. Tears of laughter began to prick your eyes.

The school day drew to an end. You felt excitement rush through you. Soon, you'd be meeting your secret admirer face to face.

'Please be Kokichi. Please, PLEASE be Kokichi.' You thought to yourself. You had a gut feeling it was him. Or was that just wishful thinking? Just you hoping it was him. Could it be?

The bell rung to dismiss class.

"Well. I suppose your off to meet him now, huh?" Kokichi asked. Why was he grinning so much?

"Yup! I gotta get there quick!"

"I'll help you pack your stuff."

"Aww, thanks 'Kichi!"

Kokichi helped you finish organizing your supplies.

"Well. I'm off now. See ya!" You waved as you ran out to the roof.

"See you soon, S/O. Very soon." You didn't hear him say this.

Finally. You're here now. You looked around, it seems you were the only one here. You bit your lip in anticipation. He'd be here very soon. You began to breathe in and out slowly, hoping to calm your nerves. Your eyes closed shut, hoping and praying that when you opened them it would be Kokichi in front of you. You loved him so much, was it even possible to love anyone else at this point?

You heard footsteps approaching. Familiar footsteps. Slowly coming up behind you. He was here. It was only a matter of seconds now. The mystery was unfolding.

"Nee heehee! Hey S/O." You immediately zipped around, stunned.

It was him?

"K-Kokichi?" You gasped. Were you dreaming.

"Yup. It's me."

It was him.

"You're..... You're my secret admirer."

"That's right!" He winked.

It was him all along.

You were shocked. Stunned.

He took your hands in yours. He looked up at you with a warm smile. He was blushing. You'd never seen him blush so hard in his life.

"Everything I am about to say is the honest truth. Please don't think I am lying or that this was an elaborate prank, alright?" He sounded nervous. He began to sweat.

You nodded, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

"S/O. You've touched my life in a way I can't describe. I enjoy everything I do with you. It doesn't matter what we're doing, I just enjoy it. I enjoy it, because it's with you. I love you. I love you S/O. I love everything about you. I can't think of anyone or anything else I love more. I adore you, I crave your time and attention. I want your love, your affection. And I want to love you and hold you and be with you. I wanna be yours. So." He breathed in.

"Be mine?" He was as red as a tomato now. You felt his hands tremble while holding yours.

You couldn't believe what you heard. He truly felt that way about you. He wanted you just as much as you wanted him. You couldn't help crying tears of joys.

You leaned in and kissed him right on the lips. He was caught off guard, but he kissed back gently. You shared a sweet and loving kiss as the sun set in the distance, it's beautiful orange shone on you.

You pulled back, foreheads pressed together.

"Yes. I love you too, Kokichi. More than anything! So yes, I'll be with you."

Now Kokichi began to tear up. He smiled so genuinely. He was happy beyond words!

He then kissed you again, on the lips. You shared another kiss together on the roof.

"Nee heehee! I'm glad."

You noticed on his neck. He wore a matching necklace to the one he gave you. The left side had the purple on his, though.

"Aww, that's cute. The necklaces are matching." You smiled.

"I figured it was perfect for us." He winked.

The two of you left school hand in hand together, beaming with joy.

You finally had everything you wanted.

#danganronpa #kokichi #kokichi oma #kokichi ouma #kokichi oma imagine #kokichi oma x reader #kokichi ouma x reader #drv3

[capseycartwright]

there’s gold in the dirt i never took the time to see

comfort was a word that eddie had always struggled with. he’d spent his life uncomfortable - fighting a war he didn’t believe in, trying to be the man his father wanted him to be, the husband he’d promised to be for shannon, be the best father he could be for christopher, and it sort of felt like he was failing at it all.

so - eddie ran, to los angeles and to his grandmother, and he meets evan buckley and that’s sort of where the real story begins.

a season two rewrite with a twist.

ao3 link

here is the secret fic aka a love letter for u @hoediaz - hope you enjoy!!

Comfort was a word that Eddie had always struggled with.

It was something that seemed to come so easily to the people around him – his grandmother would declare that she was more comfortable in the kitchen, comfortable feeding her family, his mom would declare she was most comfortable in El Paso, his sisters comfortable in their own skin in a way that didn’t need to be explained with words.

Shannon was comfortable in who she was, and Eddie figured that was half the reason he’d been endeared with her in the first place – he’d admired the way she was so sure of who she was, so certain of who – and what – she wanted to be in life. Eddie had hoped that she might rub off on him, he supposed, that Shannon might finally be the one to teach Eddie how to feel at home in his own body.

It couldn’t have been further from the truth, really.

Eddie had loved Shannon – really, he had, and in some ways, he always would – but that love had never brought him comfort. It had brought him Christopher, yes, and for that, Eddie would always owe everything to his ex-wife, but it hadn’t brought him any personal comfort, really.

Maybe –

Maybe Eddie was just one of those people who was destined to never feel comfortable.

He wasn’t sure if that was a thing, really, but he liked to think that it was – it made him feel less alone in not feeling as though his body quite belonged to himself.

Joining the military probably hadn’t helped with that sense of ownership, Eddie thought dryly – because if there was ever an advertisement for the quickest way to lose all ownership and control of your body and your whole sense of self, it was to sign five years of your life over to the United States Army.

(Eddie worried, sometimes, in the quiet of the long, dark nights he found himself away, if he was ever going to get back the pieces of himself that had been left behind in Afghanistan. He wasn’t sure if it was possible to heal from half a world away, and he wasn’t convinced of the possibility of healing at all, and so he worried that he would never find peace in his own body when it’s remains were shattered across the desert of Afghanistan and the familiar streets of El Paso and everywhere that Eddie had been in-between, broken pieces he needed to find the strength to collect and put back together all by himself.)

You were supposed to go home, to seek comfort, Eddie knew. On his final days on base in Germany, his hand in a splint and a bullet hole in his shoulder, the nurse on duty had told him that he should look forward to going home, to be with his family – and that he’d find comfort in being with his loved ones. Christopher, sure – because his little boy was sunshine incarnate and he soothed Eddie’s soul like nothing else in the world ever could – but all that had waited for him in El Paso was a crumbling marriage, disappointed parents, and a note from the woman he’d thought was the love of his life telling him that she couldn’t do it anymore.

He wouldn’t call any of that comfort.

So –

Eddie ran.

read the rest on ao3

#911 fox #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #911fic #in which i ramble #in which lorna writes fic