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#some people will tell you that buying things won't make you happy

thekeeperof-thefandoms · 15 hours

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HAZBIN CHARACTERS IF YOU GOT A CAT

This is a follow up to my aninal lover post.

Alastor

Confused as to where you got an actual cat in Hell.

At least it's not a dog.

Will say he doesn't like cats and complain about it getting fur everywhere but constantly has the cat near him while he's boradcasting, idly petting it.

If the cat is a menace and knocks things over a lot, especially while he's broadcasting he's using his shadows to restrain it or throw it out.

He literally makes a shadow cage for it sometimes when it has zoomies and attacks his feet.

Is annoyed with you for laughing and calling it "baby jail".

The cat better be useful and actually hunt the pests around the hotel.

He's feeding it flesh as a treat guys. Just accept it.

Charlie

OMG YOU HAVE A CAT!!! AN ACTUAL CAT!

She wants your cat and Kiki to be best friends.

Buys all of the cat toys. Expensive multi level cat trees. She cooks for it.

If it's not a cuddler, she's willing to suffer dozens of scratches just to hold it.

Has dozens of nicknames for your cat and spoils it all the time with treats.

Vox

Prefers dogs probably, but won't complain about the cat because it's more practical for people who are as busy as you all are.

He's mildly annoyed by all the cat hair everywhere, especially if it gets in his wiring or joints. Is also annoyed because he generates heat and hums from his mechanical parts, so the little shit literally won't leave him alone. It's hard to be an intimidating Overlord when there's a ball of floof on your lap/chest, and it purrs really loud to match your humming.

He swears he doesn't enjoy it, and you can hear him scolding the cat like it's a child whenever it does something, it shouldn't. Also has a kennel/cat carrier made to put the child, he means cat, in timeout. Threatens to feed it to his sharks while he watches it bap the tank glass for hours.

Buys it little ties and suits with his colors and logo on it since the damn thing wants to be with him at all times. If the child (cat) wants to come to meetings it's gonna dress the part. The cat is literally your child with him he just refuses to acknowledge it.

Valentino

Let's go with him not being the type of guy to shoot a pet for being annoying.

At first, Valentino doesn't like it because he just isn't an animal person. Like I said before he likes the idea of them more than actually having one. He does get annoyed with cat hair on everything and the little shit knocking things over.

However, let's say this cat is very sweet and snuggly. I think overtime he'd get used to it and begin to enjoy petting it and snuggling it. Maybe you, him, and the cat, all cuddled up to watch a movie. It helps him relax, especially if the cat is purring. He's also the type to dress it up and take photos with it.

Overall, I definitely think it's still more your pet than his, but he doesn’t hate it, and it does help him a lot, and he enjoys seeing you happy.

Lucifer

Cat dad. Immediately commits to that being your first child together. Like Charlie he will suffer unholy amounts of scratches to pet and cuddle it. Buys it fancy clothes and collars. Cooks homemade food for it. That's how I view it going down no matter where or how you acquired the cat.

However,

Honestly, he's probably the only one where you suggest outright getting a pet and pick out the cat together. You didn't even know an actual normal cat was an option for a pet in Hell, but he surprises you by taking you to some fancy ass place where high ranking demons have collected things from the mortal world and sell them. Running an actual high class, well documented, and strictly maintained cat breeding business, is a cat demon, and you two spend days meeting different litters of kittens and interacting with them in various scenarios to get a feel for their personality.

You guys definitely get a snuggler, because Lucifer really needs as much extra love as he can get. He excitedly tells Charlie she and Kiki are big siblings now and posts dozens of pictures on day one of owning it. You guys have a family portrait with the cat, Charlie, Vaggie, Razzle, and Kiki.

Refers to it as his child when speaking and calls himself dad and you mom (regardless of gender. You're mom)

Alternatively, he's mom and you're the father. He thinks gender norms are bullshit anyway. He can be a mom, he can shapeshift. (Also ya know, he apparently birthed Charlie).

Charlie loves her new feline sibling and brings Kiki and Razzle over to play all the time. It helps her spend more time with her dad too.

Angel Dust

He's a pet mom too! Will bring Fat Nuggets with him to play with your cat.

You guys dress them up and do photo shoots with your cats. Angel has an entire social media account now dedicated just to your cat and Fat Nuggets and eventually the other Hotel Pets.

He likes that both your cat and Nuggets can tell when he's had a bad day, and therefore you can tell. He likes that you can just sit with him in quiet solidarity, or play music, or a podcast, or just talk shit to distract him. He loves Cherri, but her method of getting through stuff is kind of exhausting for him sometimes.

Your voice, a kitty purring (if only it was Husk), Nuggets nuzzling his floof, that's kind of all he needs right now.

Husk

He and the cat just stare at each other, sometimes for hours, just staring. The cat will make little chirps, and he'll do it back if he's not thinking about it.

If the cat hisses at him he hisses back.

Skippity baps. The cat started it, he swears, and he just bapped it back.

Both of them high and catnip with zoomies. So much shit gets knocked down. Alastor strictly forbids Husk to ever get near the stuff again afterwards.

Alternatively, he, Kiki, and your cat, sprawled in a patch of sunlight, and all purring as they doze.

#hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #vox x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel husk

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soldat-buck · 18 hours

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holy shit you guys, look, there's more.

bg3 culinary headcanons: Absolute Edition

- Minthara: would accidentally fit in as the Addams Family home chef (and be angry about it). Gomez would praise her assassination attempts which flusters her (internally) because she's cooking with the normal amount of poisonous mushroom and not an attempted murder amount (and also she would hate loud, in-your-face-chaotic Gomez SO MUCH. if she wanted him dead, he would be dead, do not insult her assassinating abilities). makes the coolest Halloween party food until you realize it's not fun, spooky-mimicry decoration, those are real black widows on those cupcakes (what? they're venom and merlot flavored) (she used cricket flour, too). you don't know where she gets the "red" for her red velvet cakes, but you *do* know that ignorance is bliss and this is a pretty bitchin' birthday cake, so don't think too hard and just eat it

- Dark Urge (pre-game/embrace): slaughterhouse nightmare aesthetic - chef's apron is leather and something more appropriate for blacksmithing, there are way too many cleavers around (why in the blue fuck is there a meat hook over a drain in the floor?). some people watch tv when they cook. some listen to music, podcasts, or nothing. Durge listens to the Toy Box killer kidnapping tape (not to be mixed up with the (not safe for LIFE) Tool Box killers torture tape. that one is for relaxing baths). watches Dahmer documentaries for culinary inspiration. Hannibal Lecter would find most Durge dishes tasteless and over the top.

- Ketheric: listen, he didn't want me to tell you this [so you did NOT hear it from me], but he actually doesn't eat. he has a symbiotic relationship with the bacteria and fungus that keep his body animated and undying (they're why his blood is black). he consumes rotten things to keep his corpse puppet fungus happy and the corpse puppet fungus allows him to keep his consciousness/sentience and keep serving Myrkul. Myrkul's cool with it, as long as his bidding continues to get done

- Orin: Martha Stewart would have a nervous breakdown upon entering Orin's kitchen. the average person would consider Orin's cooking to be a hate crime. if someone doesn't vomit uncontrollably upon first sight, she considers it an insult (she grew up with a gross misunderstanding of what a Roman vomitorium is). her spaghetti and meatballs is wrapping a handful of uncooked noodles in unseasoned ground meat (she neither knows nor cares whether it's fish or chicken or cow. meat is meat), then baking it in a casserole dish sprinkled with still-condensed tomato soup from a can. Midwestern casserole cooking brought to you by Hell. doesn't use salt because she finds it too spicy. she has an entire pantry section for savory jello

- Gortash: culinary techbro. kitchen is spilling over with unitasker gadgets ("and THIS contraption evenly distributes heat for the perfect boiled egg! what do you mean 'what else does it do'. it boils eggs perfectly i already told you, why the fuck weren't you listening"), and the most stupid, overengineered 'smart' devices ("no no no, you don't understand, this is so helpful. the fork connects to the plate to measure the temperature of the food, and then the plate changes color to warn me if it's too hot, and then i don't burn my tongue, because i really hate that"). despite all of the pricey kitchen shit that he keeps buying, he's skilled at making exactly one dish: microwaved Totino's pizza rolls

(i'm sorry if Gortash is out of character; my brain replaced his voice with John Oliver's and won't put the original back)

if you want more bg3 culinary headcanons, there's also: the Companion Edition

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misc-obeyme · 1 day

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If the bros worked in a nightclub, what roles would they have, along with their stage names? Oh, and today is my birthday! I just wanted to share it with you🥳💕

Happy birthday, anon!!

Um, so I might not be the best person to ask about nightclub related things... I haven't been to many of them. I am an introverted homebody lol.

I'm not sure what you mean by roles? Like what kinda jobs they'd have if they worked at a nightclub?

Because if that's what you mean, then I can tell you what I think they'd all do! And I'm gonna say that Asmo just came up with stage names for all of them because he felt like it, no matter what they end up doing.

Asmo is absolutely on stage. No question about it. Whether he's singing or pole dancing or doing drag or whatever, that guy's the center of attention! Stage name: I kinda think he'd go for the single name. It's just straight up ASMODEUS. Probably stylized all in caps like that, too.

Beel is the bouncer. Not working the door, but watching things on the inside. Big and quiet and can easily pick up rowdy demons and toss them outside without a second look. Stage name: I kinda think Asmo could talk him into doing pole dancing. Because you know, it's super athletic and requires a lot of strength. I kinda feel like it'd end up being something about his muscles. Mr. Buffington perhaps. LOL. I dunno how serious these stage names are. Beel would probably be like uhhhh I'm just Beel.

Mammon is the finance guy. Most of the time, he's just crunching numbers, but when the club is in action, he's out on the dance floor, just kinda bringing some ambiance with his enthusiastic personality. Yeah, he might be trying to get people to buy the most expensive drinks, but he's also having the time of his life so nobody minds. Stage name: I like the idea that Mammon regularly gets into his dame outfit. Either straight up calls himself Goldie or something like... Lady Grimm. LOL!

Satan is bar tending. I don't know why, but I just think he'd be good at it. And he's probably the most competent one to be handling all that booze anyway. Lucifer would probably do a good job, but he can't be trusted around the Demonus. Stage name: because Asmo makes him wear cat ears all the time, he's obviously going to be something like Kitty Meow Meow. Anyone who actually calls him this gets decked.

Levi is handling all the tech. Stage lights? Fog machine? Audio equipment? This guy is on it! Hides most of the time and plays video games when he's not needed. Hates being out in the main area so hides in vip lounges all the time. Stage name: Lord of Shadows! Asmo can come up with whatever cutesy thing he wants, but Levi won't go by anything else. It doesn't matter because he would never actually be on stage so Asmo lets it be.

Belphie helps out with bar tending. He's too sleepy to partake of too much alcohol, it'd just make him sleepier. But he's smart and he's good at keeping an eye out for creepers trying to roofie drinks. He looks like he's not paying attention, but he notices everything. Subtly lets Beel know when there's a creeper that needs to be escorted out. Stage name: because I like the idea that Belphie will also sometimes do the dame thing and then he just goes by Belle - simple, elegant, and Asmo approved.

Lucifer oversees everything. He's the manager, of course. Makes sure everybody else is doing what they're supposed to. Hires extra muscles for Beel when needed. Only has the best demons working the door. Books musical gigs when Asmo's not performing. Keeps himself away from the alcohol and the Anti Lucifer League lol. Stage name: only on rare occasions does Lucifer do anything that would require a stage name and then he goes by Morningstar. Asmo's so awestruck he wouldn't even dream of protesting.

OKAY well I did my best lol. I'm sorry if this isn't really what you were looking for! You can always send me another ask with more detail on what exactly you're thinking of. But yeah, my knowledge of this stuff is lacking in general.

Either way, I hope you had a fabulous birthday, anon!

#can you tell I almost never go to nightclubs #probably #I think it's pretty obvious lol #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me brothers #anon asks #misc answers

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lovecolibri · 15 days

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My gifts from Uncle Visa have arrived! 😍😍😍 The RueHob mug is GORGEOUS!

#dimension 20 #a court of fey and flowers #ACOFAF #a starstruck odyssey #ASO #dropout #some people will tell you that buying things won't make you happy #those people are idiots

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undreaming-fanfiction · 2 months

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I love a good florist Steve, but what I love even more is a good but naturally bitchy florist Steve.

He'd have his own flower shop and years of dating experience behind his belt. He is not just a good boyfriend, he is THE good boyfriend. Going to his shop isn't just to buy a bouquet of flowers, oh no. It's a whole relationship coaching thing, he teaches husbands to do better, gives courage to teenagers asking their crushes out, gives advice regarding flower language to elderly ladies who just want to be slightly passive-aggressive...you know, the normal thing.

He has a catalogue with flower pictures to help people who have no idea what the flowers are called, they just know they were orange and didn't easily wilt.

He shows a local teenager the cheaper but still fancy options and throws in a bunch of free flowers that aren't really up to his standards. "Okay, you say she likes pink flowers. Does she like things to be a bit more decorated or does she prefer simplicity? You don't know? Okay, can you describe what she normally wears? No, I'm not being creepy, but you can sometimes tell the person's preferences from their clothes. Now answer or leave dateless."

He chats with the elderly ladies of Hawkins when they ask for a flower to gift to their fellow church ladies when they host their meetings. He cackles when he hears some of their orders. "Oh wow, Ethel, a yellow hyacinth? Would you like a gift card with that, something like sorry you're such a jealous hag? No? Of course I know the meaning, it's my job."

"Are you expeting her to say yes to the date with that atrocity on your face? Yes, I know it's a moustache. But it's also an atrocity. Shave it and thank me later. Now, would you like a ribbon for that bouquet?"

And most of all, he grills the unlucky conservative men in Hawkins who come to him for flowers for their wives without any idea what they like. "I see, so you want something pretty. What does your wife like? Flowers? Well, that's not specific. What kind of dresses does she wear? Expensive? Can you tell me anything about your wife's personality? ...nagging. No, I can't just mix something together, unlike you, I take pride in gift giving. Okay. I don't think this is a shop for you. Yes, that's what I'm saying, I won't play a part in your wife's disappointment. Oh sure, go take your money elsewhere, but I can give you this advice for free - you married a unique human being, so treat her like one. And if you really want a happy marriage - maybe come back when you learn something about her as a person. No need for that language, have a good day, sir."

For those that are more receptive, he goes through their partners' personalities and hobbies, suggesting date options and absolutely roasting the bad ones. "A football match. When your girlfriend hates sports. I don't care if it's your boys playing, you can try telling her that this is important to you and you'll take her out another time, but if you try to pass this as a date, you'll be single before you say "sorry". A date is for you as a pair, not for you only."

But the best thing his shop brings him is Eddie Munson, who sneaks in, absolutely ready to be roasted, and asks for a bouquet of bright colorful flowers for his best friend Chrissy. "She just got divorced from her asshole husband and I want to show her that she can have nice things. Platonically. But she deserves so much more. Uh...she really loves warm colors, so maybe yellows and oranges? What are they called...gerberas! She likes gerberas! And she likes things to be a bit messy and imperfect, so maybe some leaves there as well? A green ribbon would be nice."

And Steve just beams at him as he gets to work and says "Oh wow. Whoever your partner is, they are so lucky if you remember all of these things even for your friends. Makes a guy jealous."

Eddie just wiggles his eyebrows at Steve and mutters, "that position's sadly open. Has been for a while. Interested?" and he almost faints against the counter when Steve turns around.

Eddie is ready to run.

But Steve just fluffs his hair, reapplies his lipgloss and asks: "Where do I apply?"

#steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #steddie drabble #steddie au #florist steve harrington

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iceunhie · 8 months

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voicelines about you: as their lover !

featuring: imbibitor lunae, jing yuan, gepard. (+ jingliu and kafka)

notes: headcanons! some might be ooc HELP. i couldn't resist writing for hsr man… also jingliu and kafka sneak bc mmm i love morally questionable women 🤩. gn!reader. reader is not trailblazer. some fluff, some angst (?) kinda. reblogs are very much appreciated!

Imbibitor Lunae (Danheng IL)

About [Name]: They're one of the few people who's never condemned me for Danfeng's sins, nor ever tried to get me to own up to them. Their presence is very comforting to me. My lover? *coughs* Y-yes, they are.

About [Name]: Selfies Aside from March, [Name] always seems to ask me to take photos with their camera. Hm? No, I don't really mind. If it makes them feel happy, then that's enough reason for me to agree.

About [Name]: Photo Albums [Name] made an Express photo album with March yesterday. Yeah, pictures of our adventures and memories, according to them. It's in the Data Bank, so just ask me if you want to take a look at it.

Gepard Landau

About [Name]: [Name] is the most amazing individual I've met. Their determination and their will to pursue their goals to the fullest… I'm proud to call them my lover. Oh, ah… Was that too forward?

About [Name]: Lending a Hand Oftentimes, Serval asks [Name] to help her carry some things for her workshop. Although the times I get to personally help out are rare due to my duties, I still make it a point to support them by asking the Silvermane Guards to keep an eye out for them and help carry my sister's things for them if it's too heavy. Of course. They're always my top priority.

About Serval: Nagging Every time Serval stops by my post, it usually means [Name]'s run into some difficulties, which I try to help them out in. While her telling me about my lover's state is greatly appreciated, she always nags and teases me being a fool for them and… *sigh* No, it's alright, really. I'm thankful that my sister cares about [Name] and goes out of her way to talk to them for me. Still, I do hope her nagging would decrease next time.

Jing Yuan

About [Name]: Hm? [Name]? Yes, they're indeed my lover. Hehe, now that you've brought them up, I should go look for them. I'm afraid I've grown so used to the feeling of laying my head on their lap that no other pillow can suffice. Ah, what a predicament…

About [Name]: Spending Time Together While I do enjoy dozing off, [Name] makes a point to let me rest at a more appropriate place, instead of at the Seat of The Divine Foresight, buried under a mountain of paperwork. Oftentimes, I do as they say, but when I'm not and just craving their presence… Heh, now that's another matter entirely.

(BONUS! - Yanqing's Voiceline) About [Name]: Oh, [Name]? They always give me some extra allowance for buying swords, buying me sweets and food I like… Of course I won't say no to that! Sometimes, them being with me when I'm being scolded by the General for my expenses helps a lot. Probably because they're the only one the General can't say no to.

Jingliu

About [Name]: ….Do you really think you have the right to know about them? This is a warning. Try to ask again and perhaps you'll be faced with the end of my blade as my answer.

About [Name]: Soothed The whispers of the marastruck, succumbing to the Abundance… They are the only one able to calm the storm of my thoughts. For that, I am grateful for their patience and their kindness.

(BONUS 2! - Jing Yuan's Voiceline) About Name: While Master's current state is one of irreparable damage, at the very least… She has someone to hold onto while she grapples with the curse of mara. Even if I don't quite believe she's the Jingliu I knew from before, I know that her feelings for [Name] are sincere. I just hope she doesn't end up hurting them in the process.

Kafka

About [Name]: Aha, now thats a question I didn't expect to hear from you. My lover? Yes, [Name] is that to me. I very much enjoy their love and affection, you know. Even if it isn't on the script, I'd still mention them. Quite romantic of me, no?

About [Name]: Trophy They always, always chide me about me ruining my velvet coats when we finish up a script. What's wrong with a little blood? I keep most of them as trophies. There's one I'm especially fond of, too. They think it's rather embarassing that I keep the coat from the time they got injured on the job. Although the stains have long since turnt black, there's still a faint scent of iron in it. Hm? What do I mean by that? Heh, let's just say I don't take any harm coming to [Name] lightly. While they call it a reminder of their lack of caution, I'd rather call it a little show of my affection~

About [Name]: Destiny's Course Elio refused to tell me about what my future with them would be, saying that the path in that choice is quite difficult to discern, and I think it's for the best. I suppose if [Name] decided to leave the Stellaron Hunters, hm, would locking them up till they can't leave me anymore suffice….? Haha, just kidding. I wouldn't let them leave in the first place.

#dan heng #hsr x reader #hsr x gender neutral reader #dan heng x reader #gepard landau #gepard x you #hsr gepard #gepard x reader #gepard x gender neutral reader #hsr kafka #kafka honkai star rail #kafka x reader #jingliu x reader #jing yuan #jing yuan hsr #jing yuan x reader #imbibitor lunae #mhie's spirals

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sanjisboyfie · 4 months

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golden retriever boyfriend ! itadori yuji

yuji x male reader

-> very short but i wanted to show smoe love to this cutie wootie patootie.

- oh my fucking god. the absolute sweetest boyfriend i fear. this guy literally praises the ground that you walk on and is at your beck and call as if you were a deity and he is your servant. your day is just him constantly asking if he can do anything for you to make you happier, usually the response is just his company, which he blushes and playfully smacks you for.

"honey, do you wanna go to the store to buy some more snacks before we binge watch?" yuji asked, a wide grin on his face, "gojo-sensei forgot to take back his wallet he leant me from my last mission, so we can splurge and he won't even notice!"

you laughed at his eagerness, but shook your head. instead, you opened your arms up for him to cuddle himself into and said, "i just want to spend some time with you, i missed you,"

without wasting another second, yuji jumped into your arms and peppered kisses all over your neck, jaw, and face, "i missed you even moreee!! let's turn on your show already, then," yuji contentedly closed his eyes, breathing in your scent as his cheek was pressed against your chest.

he was in heaven.

- constantly thinking of you. he's always seeing things on the street that remind him of you, always wondering if you'd like something he picked out for you from a street vendor, will constantly be talking nobara and megumi's ear off about, "oh, [name] really likes that restaurant! should i buy him something to go?" "haha, me and [name] watched that movie last night and he really liked the main character's best friend, even though i liked the main character more!" "nobara, do you think [name] is more handsome wearing a bracelet or necklace? huh? well, i think he lookes handsome either way, but i don't have money for both so i need someone unbiased to choose."

they think they've heard enough, but they very clearly haven't since yuji always goes above and beyond in talking about you.

you're there to hear the praises he sings for you 50% of the time, but the other 50%...poor nobara and megumi because they gotta deal with his yappin ass. he never shuts up in general (he's just a bby) but when he gets on a tangent talking about you ... it's like this guy doesn't need to breathe.

he's just so happy and content with the relationship you guys have he can't help but make it known to everyone around!!! another thing is he could care less if it annoys the fuck out of everyone around him, he just nods his head at their annoyance and then goes, "well, anyway, haha, as i was saying before i was interuppted!"

literally inumaki probably has had to restraint himself from telling yuji to "shut the fuck up" because he just wouldn't shut up.

- yuji likes to make it obvious to you how loyal of a boyfriend he is. he barely glances at other people on the street if he's with you. he has actual hearts in his eyes when he even sees you in his periphereals, if you are right in front of him, dear lord save him.

the two of you were walking down the street to the conveince store. your pinkies were linked together as yuji listened to you talk about your day and the training you had to do. at one point you were complaining about gojo's antics as an irresponsible teacher and yuji couldn't help but think how adorable that annoyed look on your face was.

the pout on your lips, even you rolling your eyes was so attractive to him. he was enthralled by your story and, of course, you, he didn't even realize that he walked right into the clear glass door of the store.

as he face planted staight into the wall, you immediately are fussing over if he is alright. he turns to you with a grin, nodding his head to show he was fine. but the smallest drop of blood coming from his nose said otherwise.

and as you fretted over his very minor injury, he couldn't help but sigh in content as he thought you tending to him was the most heartwarming thing he has ever experienced.

"you'd be a great nurse, [name]," he says, not minding the subtle glare you threw at him, "your hands are so soft and gentle-"

"they're about to smack you if you don't shut up," you gruffly replied, but yuji wasn't deterred at all in singing your praises even more.

"you're so kind to me," he says with a dreamy look in his eyes.

once again, you sighed heavily at your boyfriend's attitude, pinching his ear, "quit it, yuji! what if you actually got hurt, you're lucky it was just a rush of blood. you need to be more focused, especially if we're gonna be out there fighting curses,"

yuji, unfortunately, doesn't take any of your warnings seriously. as he presses his cheek to the palm of his hand, he just stares at you lovingly, "what do you think? should we buy you a cute little nurse outfit and i can be your sick patient? you'd look so handsome in scrubs!"

another pinch to his ear, "yuji! are you even listening?!"

- has this really adorable habit of just getting lost in whatever you're saying and blinking owlishly at you with a very cute smile on his face. it's a really adorable sight, but when you're actually trying to tell him something, he's just looking at you like ":3" and not at all listening to what you're saying.

"gojo-sensei said to be extra careful because the blades were just sharpened, alright?" you advised, looking at the myriad of cursed tools that you were going to be training with. "hm, what do you think suits your fighting style more, babe?"

yuji only tightened his grip around your waist, burying his face into your neck as he was just too focused on your body against his to even begin formulating an answer to your question. even though it was a fairly easy question to answer.

"itadori yuji," you warn, sensing that he was spacing out once again.

"noooo," he whines, squeezing you tight, "'m your baby, not itadori yuji," he complains, exaggerating his name as if it were the worst sound in the world.

"well, you're going to stay itadori yuji until you answer my question," you say, wondering why you had to disclipline your boyfriend as if he were your child. you soften up though when you hear him whine once again, burying his head deeper into your neck.

ruffling his hair as a way of comforting him, ultimately caving in to his whines and attitude, you softly say, "baby, can you just help me out really quick?"

"kisses after i do?"

"of course,"

yuji is grinning like a fool and is suddenly very intrigued in the conversation on what curse tool works best with his fighting style.

GIVE ME ITADORI YUJI AS MY BOYFRIEND and id treat him like a king, thats all im saying. he deserves so much love, please.

#jjk male reader #itadori yuji male reader #itadori male reader #yuji male reader #yuji x male reader #itadori x male reader #golden retriever boyfriend #itadori fluff headcanons #yuji fluff headcanons #jjk headcanons #jjk x male reader #jujutsu kaisen male reader #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #male reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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angelltheninth · 1 year

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hsr men with insecure reader?🥹how would they show you are more than enough,maybe a bit of suggestive 🤭love your writing!

I used to be really insecure before, and I'm sure a lot of people are too, hopefully this will make everyone feel more loved.

Pairing: Dan Heng, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Luocha, Sampo, Welt x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, comfort, slightly suggestive, kissing, insecurity, cuddles, public display of affection, protectiveness, jealousy, playful biting

A/N: Some comfort for you all this time around.

Dan Heng isn't the best with words of comfort but he will always make you feel like the most special, no the only, woman in the room when you're out with him. He's always got his full attention on you weather you be talking, asking him to dance, or just needing him to hold your hand when you feel overwhelmed by the attention the two of you are getting. Although you're sure that its mostly due to him not you, still all these eyes on you, on him, they make you want to prove yourself somehow. He knows this, he notices how you tense up when someone approaches him and he makes sure to let them know that he's already taken by this beautiful woman by his side.

Gepard can't stop talking you up to his friends and even his team. He thinks you're amazing. You could be doing the most mundane thing and he'll take a picture of it and smile over it the entire day. Always makes sure to kiss you when you feel proud of something, his hands cupping your face so gently because all he wants to do is care for you for the rest of his days, he wants you to know that he might be a protector and a knight to the people, but to you he's simply your boyfriend who will stop at nothing to show you how special you are to him and how happy he is to have you in his life and that he wants you to always, always be a part of it because you make it brighter.

Jing Yuan shuts down any and all feelings of insecurity before they get the chance to make you feel like you're not good enough for him. It doesn't matter if he's the general. If you value his opinion so much and hold him in such high regard then won't you trust him when he says that you're everything he could have wanted and so much more? Perhaps a little demonstration is in order. Grabbing you by the wrist he pulls you against him and carries you to the couch where he props you on his lap, bearing his neck and telling you to mark him. He never lets anyone do this, but you, he will gladly be marked by you, be yours for all to see.

Luocha knows that this isn't something he can just cure like he does with illness and injuries. This is something that he needs to show you, that you're more than worthy of being his lover. Whenever you walk into town he makes sure to hold your hand, fingers intertwined and to always insist on a single room with one bed so there's no confusion about you being a couple. Both of you are well aware of the looks you draw to yourselves and the fact that sometimes people can be blind to the signs, so in every town he makes sure to go to a stand and buy you something, a necklace, an earing or a bracelet, a matching set, one for you and one for him, showing you belong to each other.

Sampo can get insecure too but he always plays it off pretty easily as him being playfully jealous of the guys always looking your way. However if he sees that you're the one who's getting down he will try to cheer you up, he won't be too overbearing but he will leave little notes in places around the house, like a secret message for you to discover, to find and that will lead you to him. Congratulations, he is your prize, you have him now, and always from now on. Yeah it was a little silly but you had fun right? He can tell by the big smile on your face, he wants to protect that smile with everything that he's got and make sure no one disturbs your happiness.

Welt hates it when he sees you feeling insecure around passengers. Some of them can be a little flirty but he has no interest in anyone on this train other then you. Now, he can't quite put his job on hold right now but he can very quickly let you know what you mean to him, if you can stay silent that is. He doesn't mind waiting until you get home though, he'll just have to wear your lipstick mark on his neck for the rest of his shift. A little unprofessional of him yes, and will most likely get him a scolding but its a small price to pay for seeing your smile again.

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beegalactica · 4 months

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The real 'glow-up' is all mental.

With it being the prime season for the 'how to glow up' guides to make their rounds in the media we consume, it is always worth reminding yourself that the only way you are going to 'glow up' on the outside is if you 'glow up' on the inside.

I personally get annoyed with the whole glowing-up phenomenon because it perpetuates this idea that there is some kind of 'end goal' in life and once you reach it, everything will be perfect. In a world where the idea of what it means to be attractive, intelligent, successful, or desirable in any way is constantly changing, there is only one constant: YOU.

You are a lifelong investment, and you are worth every penny, second, and ounce of effort you put into yourself.

Let's go over some of my glow-up tips and habits for you this year and examine how much of your levelling-up will really need to take place in your head.

Invest in your hygiene. This doesn't mean buying the most expensive skincare and having a 30-step routine, this means brushing your teeth every day, taking showers regularly and looking after your hair. Of course, we all want to achieve that 'clean girl aesthetic' but to me, simple hygiene is the best way to send a message to your body and mind that you care. Nothing says "I love you just the way you are" to your body like taking the time to clean it, care for it and pay attention to what it needs.

Invest in your surroundings. Now I know, making your bed every morning can be an unnecessary waste of time, especially if you're just going to end up getting back into it at night, but I like to think that my surroundings reflect my mental state, so if my room is a mess, best believe my mind is a mess too.

Invest in your interests. Start a hobby, pick up a new skill, try to find a book that interests you, or even start a Tumblr blog 😉😉! This year, I am focusing on really cultivating myself and becoming an interesting person who has things to talk about with people, instead of mindless gossip or resulting in self-deprecation to entertain others.

Invest in your happiness. Do what makes you happy. Distance yourself from those who seek to pull you down, to prop themselves up. You are worth so much more than that. Sometimes, those people are in our households, and the only way to cope is to know what makes us feel good and chase that happiness. Know that whatever issue you are facing shall pass and you will feel good again.

There is a common belief among people who may struggle with their self-image that once they fix this, or change that, everything will be perfect, but as someone who has had that mentality, it won't. If you want to lose 10kg for example, but hate your current body, waking up skinny tomorrow won't fix that voice in your head that tells you that you're still not good enough. If you love yourself as you are, and acknowledge that exercising is a form of self-love, and it doesn't take away from it, that mental glow-up will begin to manifest itself physically.

What's the point of others complimenting you daily if you don't believe it or can't accept it because you don't think of yourself the way that they do?

Trust me when I say this, my biggest milestone on my 'glow up journey' was not losing x amount of weight, but looking at myself in the mirror, first thing in the morning with no make-up or styling, and still being able to say "Damn, I'm so beautiful." And I can confidently tell you that to reach this point, I didn't set the intention of losing weight and trying to become more beautiful, I set the intention of loving and accepting myself the way that I am and all the actions that followed after stemmed from this love that I have. I didn't feel the need to exercise because I wanted to be skinny, but because I knew that it was what my body needed, and I loved my body so much that I was willing to do that for her.

It's easy to get wrapped up in so many things and lose sight of yourself, but when that phone is off and you're all alone, disconnected from the rest of the world, what do you say to yourself?

P.S. If you're reading this thank you all for the love on my first post! Opening Tumblr every day to new notifications has created this sort of excitement and extreme joy that I didn't even know was possible! Stay safe and take care of yourself 💗💓

#lifeblr #girlblogging #girlblogger #it girl #that girl #becoming that girl #glow up #it girl energy #clean girl #glow up tips #self improvement #self development #how to glow up #self care #self love

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klausysworld · 5 months

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(This is based on that cam girl idea I had except I ended up making more boring than I initially thought so I might make another or something? I dunno, either way I hope everyone likes it cuz it’s still cute)

Something special

Klaus was no stranger to sex. Over a thousand years he had tried damn near everything and knew just how to pleasure both himself and others. He found it both amusing and inspiring how humans invented new things to satisfy their needs and often tested them out. Webcaming sites were one of his favourites.

Having an eager, gorgeous girl on his screen teasing him for hours and moaning softly. It helped that he had a lot of money, it mean he had private chat rooms and calls with a lot of these girls. There, when it was only him, they would begin to lose more clothing. Some were happy to be completely naked for everyone to see but the ones who were out for money only did it for the right amount. They were his favourites, knowing that they got excited when he joined the live because he would offer what they needed.

He hadn't been on for a good while while he was busy with his curse and hybrids but once he had the time, he decided to log back on. He scrolled for a little while to find someone who peaked his interest. Klaus was careful with who he picked, he didn't want to have loads of girls waiting for him, he needed them to feel special and wanted.

But after a little while, he found her. Y/n, or at least that was her name on here. With a slight smile, he joined. She was in her panties and an oversized baby-pink jumper that went just over her thighs and swallowed her pretty body. Her hair was down and she was simply eating her dinner, gammon egg and fries. The wall behind her was white and he could see the end of her bed at the edge of the screen. She smiled at the camera as she dipped her fry in her egg and took it into her mouth, chewing slowly before swallowing it down.

He watched the comments, and then her, studying how she reacted to different requests and compliments. Some people were asking for her to take off the jumper, some were asking her to lick her knife and others were asking to have a private or members only stream. She hummed softly as she took a sip of her drink, which was a tall glass of milk making Klaus smirk.

She shifted to sit up in her knees, her thighs parted but the jumper making it impossible to see between them. A good few people send her money, most a maximum of $50 but he could tell that she was happy with that. She let out a soft laugh at one of the comments, "mm it's just milk, I'm sorry" she smiled and as though it were contagious, so did Klaus.

For the next few nights he just watched her. The most she would let anyone see of her was her thighs or sometimes a little cleavage but she wasn't explicit at all. He began to wonder how much it would take to have her take her panties off. So, out of curiosity, he asked.

He watched as her face went pink and she fiddled with the edge of her t-shirt. "You're very forward..." she glanced at the accounts name "Nik" she murmured softly and he grinned.

A hundred?

He questioned with a sly smile and she nibbled her lip and ignored him making him hum lowly to himself.

Two hundred?

He asked, his eyes narrowing slightly in determination. When she still didn't answer him and instead began talking to a different one of her...fans I suppose, he decided to send her some money. $500 to be exact. Her eyes went wide and she seemingly shrank into herself. "I- um..." her face reddened and she paused for a moment before the steam ended. He then received a private message

I can refund you

was all it said and he frowned

Why would I want a refund? It's for you, sweetheart.

he replied with a click of his tongue, watching the three dots dance across his laptop screen.

I won't do what you want for it. You can have it back.

she was scared and he knew that but he didn't want her to be.

That's alright, love. You can keep it anyways. Maybe buy yourself something and wear it in your next show.

he offered, hoping she would accept. As soon as she did, he was in.

If you're sure? I'm very sure. Well then thank you, Nik ❤️

he smiled at his screen and went offline for the rest of the night. He began to picture how her body would look beneath her baggy clothes, he imagined her sexy little figure crawling towards him on his screen and her lips whispering his name like she had before.

The thought stuck with him even in sleep and followed him all the next day and onwards.

It took a good couple of weeks to fully gain her attention. Then he was on every day, sending in money and flattering her. He was happy to do so though, besides she had been more confident and a little more seductive with her behaviour. She still never took her clothes off, especially not for everyone but when he went into a members only room with her and a few others she would be in only her underwear. No shirt or jumper to hide her soft skin.

And after persistency, he managed to have a one-on-one session. He had his camera off to begin with but when she shyly asked if she could see him, he didn't want to deny her sweet voice. Her expression was somewhat relaxed when she saw him, he wondered what other kinds of people would manage to get her like this.

He smiled and hummed as he allowed her to look him over for a moment. "Better than expected sweetheart?" he purred and she shrugged sheepishly.

"Well yeah honestly" she laughed and so did he. Most of the men she went one-on-one ended up being either old and alone, young and horny or married and telling her she needed to be quiet because his wife was in the next room over or that he was on break at work. Still, she never hung up, they were paying her after all. Some of them were there purely to talk and of course others were much more direct about what they wanted.

Nik had been a bit of a mystery to her. Sometimes he was asking to see her panties and the next he was just wondering about her day or what things she had in her room like the teddy bears on her bed which she didn't mean to have in the shot.

So she was curious as to how this first personal interaction would go.

Klaus was mostly proud that he had gotten this far but also somewhat excited, after realising that Y/n had become his release for his stress after a long day in Mystic Falls, he began to feel a little something for her. He just knew if she were here that she'd be terrified, she was far too lovely for war and pain. If Klaus were honest, he didn't really understand why she was on this kind of platform, she really didn't seem the type but he assumed it was for the money or perhaps she wasn't as innocent as she made him and the others believe but he didn't think that was the case.

Either way, he had been looking forward to this evening for a while. "Well I'm glad I haven't disappointed" he chuckled and she smiled. She sat back against her fluffy pink beanbag so the camera could see her top half. His eyes traced the pattern on her white lace bra, a little jewel handing for the bottom. Her hair looked freshly done and he could tell that she put in much more effort for her spenders.

"Don't worry about disappointing me, I can promise that you won't" she told him, her voice smooth like silk as his tongue wetted his lips and he straightened up. He was sat in bed, his laptop on his lap over the covers and a bottle of lube on his bedside table just incase.

They began just talking about simple things, she asked him questions and he answered to an extent and vice versa.

But as the night grew older, he began to ask if he was allowed to have a better look at her. She agreed easily and stood up for him, giving a 360 of her body. He groaned softly and damn near begged for her to take her panties off and by the end of the call she did. Her thighs squeezed together but he could see her smooth little mound. She sat back in her beanbag on her side so the curve of her ass was on display for his eyes and occasionally when she shifted, he would catch a glimpse of her glistening cunt.

After a good while she had to go and thanked him for everything he had said to her and given her. He smiled back and thanked her in return "Perhaps next time we'll get rid of that pretty bra of yours too?" he teased and she blushed.

And next time, he did. He had her completely naked, lead on her front and eating some chips while they spoke. Klaus could imagine her tender breasts spilling out of his hands as she told him some innocent story without realising his attention being elsewhere as she leaned up on her elbows allowing him to see her pebbled nipples. Once he let out a groan, she popped her head up and realised. He could see something dim in her eyes and it made him feel some sort of guilt? But she brushed whatever it was away and smiled, asking if he wanted her to help him feel better.

After that he began to push further and further each time, becoming aware that when she trusted him enough, she would do just about. anything.

Her manicured nails would squeeze at her budded nipples while he gave slow strokes to his hardened cock, occasionally cupping his balls to tease himself.

Her legs would part for him to get that view he had longed for, his mouth watering and cock beginning to twitch with the need to bury inside her and yet he feared that he never would.

Often it was one-sided, Klaus would get off while she spoke delicious words to fuel his desire and showed off her body. But after a while he began to request that she showed him how she played with herself. He asked if she ever thought about any of her spenders when she was alone at night and if she would ever let any of them, more importantly him actually meet her. Touch her, fuck her. God he wanted to, he needed to.

Seeing her little fingers curl inside her tight little cunt was becoming addictive. It got even better when he would send her the money over and a link of the toys he wanted her to play with for him.

Sometimes she would bring her toys out in some of her normal streams, she would have her vibrating panties on while she spoke to her fans, grinding against a teddy and biting at her own lip to keep quieter than she would be normally.

Klaus and Y/n had become somewhat emotionally involved without telling the other of their true feelings. They both assumed the other was their for physical things. Y/n especially thought Klaus could care less about her. Especially when he suddenly stopped turning up. Never joining her performances or even coming online. She assumed he must've gotten bored or something?

She didn't know that he was in New Orleans, in and out of wars and living in a house full of bloodsucking creatures, night howlers and magic practisers.

And he didn't know that she was also in New Orleans, working in a little coffee shop out of the way. Not until he found himself inside it after a very long night. He didn't want to go home and stayed out, wondering until the sun rose and shops began to open. That was when he stepped inside and his eyes found hers.

Recognition flashed through both of them and he could hear her heart pounding as she stepped back quickly, tripping on her foot as her breathing escalated and a whispered chant of "nonono" slipped past her lips. On instinct he rushed forward to follow her, shoving past the little gate that let the employees go behind the counter. Other staff yelled at him but he just focused on following her breathing.

He got to a small room which a couple coats hung up and some bags, then he heard a slam and lifted his head to see a window smack closed.

Hurriedly he went back out through the front and sped round where she must’ve climbed out, he could faintly hear the quick patter of footsteps and chased it. His breathing was almost as fast as hers as he turned corners with pace and ran straight into someone. He apologised with a grunt and looked up only to find himself surrounded by people once again as the day was beginning in the busy city.

He let out a frustrated groan and spun around, checking through the crowds as much as he could. “For fucks sake” he growled, storming through the people until eventually finding his way home.

After that day he went back to that coffee shop every day until he eventually compelled one of the other workers only to find out she quit on the same day she saw him there. He compelled every person in the building until one of them told him that they knew where she shopped.

He then continued to hang around the shopping centre for hours like a full on stalker.

Eventually he spotted her, and he did not waste a single second before he was directly behind her “Y/n?” He whispered and she physically jumped as his hand came in contact with her shoulder. She smacked his hand off her, wide eyes staring at him and he knew she was ready to run so he moved forward. Hands either side of her head against the shelves of the supermarket.

Her breathing was laboured and fear rolled off of her. “What do you want?” She whispered, her voice a little more breathy under the circumstances but still mellifluous.

“I- I don’t know” he whispered back, becoming a little confused. What did he want from her? As if realising the situation a little better he moved his hands away from her. What the hell was he doing?

He had caged the poor girl, scared her and for what? To look at her? He could do that online though he was certain she would have blocked his access by now. He didn’t even think to log back on.

His jaw clenched and he took in the anxious expression painting her face. Had someone found her before? Did she think he was here to hurt her?

“I’m sorry” he murmured, taking a hesitant step back “I didn’t know you were here, I just saw you and- I don’t know…I just wanted to…see you? Or talk to you? I don’t-“ he could feel his mouth going dry as he stared at her

“How did you know I’d be in here?” She asked, afraid and a guilty look spread through him.

“Well…okay that makes it look worse” he laughed uneasily. “I just…I missed you” he whispered and she studied his face

“It’s not like it’s hard for you to see me” she whisper yelled and he sighed

“Well I know that but I couldn’t come on there anymore” he mumbled knowing that a number of beings would’ve been able to hear it.

“Right, you’re married or something. Look I don’t care okay? I’m not gonna tell anyone. I don’t even know if your name is Nik” she promised. “I won’t say anything and you won’t say anything…right?” She asked, a twinkle of desperation glistening in her eyes.

His expression softened slightly and he backed away slightly so she wasn’t trapped. “I’m not, married- but I won’t do or say anything. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you” he told her, still confused with what he himself was thinking and doing.

She watched as he left, bumping into someone by mistake as he left. She wasn’t sure whether she should be more afraid or at ease. She leaned more towards the first one.

She began to look over her shoulder whenever she was out, she moved apartments and changed her loyalties when it came to shopping.

And yet still, even with Klaus also trying to avoid her and leave her be, they managed to collide.

Walking straight into each other in the middle of town. His hand had lurched forward to catch her from falling and they both looked to the other prepared to look annoyed before both going silent and wide-eyed. After a second he let go of her and they both muttered an apology, what was worse was that he was with Rebekah and Hope. As soon as Y/n saw the child she turned moved past him, gaining speed as she went. Rebekah could tell something was wrong as her brother went to follow the girl only to sigh and turn back to Hope.

“Secret lover?” She teased but he didn’t look amused so she kept it to herself though she had Hope shared a look.

Klaus however only appeared troubled. He found himself making a new account to watch his girl once again but she’d been inactive for a little while, people asking for her to come back. He hoped he wasn’t the cause but part of him knew he was. He’d spooked her.

But after a while she came back and he watched, send in some cash and eventually he was on a one on one session again. He apologised for how he’d come across and promised he never had ill intentions. After a little time they fell back into pattern and their confidences grew when asking and doing things.

And when he saw her working in an art store selling paints and other mediums as well as helping out with some galleries nearby, he decided to actually talk to her comfortably.

He asked if she’d consider going to dinner with him and gave her his actual number. After a good week she agreed and he had in a fancy restaurant. He could practically smell her nerves but tried his best to soothe her, promising everything was okay and safe. She told him she did the camming for two reasons, for the money but also for herself because she enjoyed it and it made her feel good about herself. They both agreed that if their relationship progressed that it wouldn’t stop her from doing what she wanted just like she wouldn’t stop him from his….job that he made up.

In fact he asked if she’d ever let him join her. She had laughed and shook her head but several dates later when he had her pressed against the same bed that he’d watched her touch herself in months earlier, and was sucking pink marks into his skin, he asked again. And with convincing, she agreed.

God he couldn’t wait to have people know she was taken, he knew it would take a little while but he wanted to make all those people watch as he fucked her senseless. Show them how a real man could treat her instead of those toys.

Not that he didn’t enjoy using them with her, whether it was steaming or in their personal time. He kept her hidden from his family and she didn’t want to ask about it, a little worried for the answer after that time she saw the little girl and blonde women but she had fallen in love with him and it frightened her to think that any of this wasn’t real for him.

For her, she was safe. She was with someone who respected and knew about what she did and would pleasure her not only privately but willingly be apart of her…show.

And for him, she was someone who didn’t see him as a monster or a freak. She wasn’t caught up in any of his family drama or causing any. Everything was nice…for a while.

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devvelle · 1 year

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All Mine

Genre: fluff

Characters: dorm leaders (Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, and Malleus) x gn!reader

Scenario: what makes your boyfriend jealous and what he does about it <3

Notes: none!

Riddle Rosehearts ; when you're having fun with someone else.

Even as your boyfriend, Riddle can’t do things with you that would go against the dorm rules or hurt his image—which you totally understand. But when he sees you laughing with someone else, doing things he can't partake in... it makes him really jealous.

Eventually, once it gets to him, he really won't want you hanging out with those people anymore.

He knows they probably aren’t being bad influences, but he will act like they are. He'll give them unimpressed stares when you're not looking, and if they're in his dorm he’ll use his unique magic against them to keep them away from you.

When you two are in private, he'll try let loose more. It’ll feel unnatural for him, but he wants to have fun with you, too. He’s afraid you’ll get bored of him.

If you play along for his sake and try to bring him out of his shell, he'll appreciate it. He might even be honest about his feelings once he’s comfortable telling you the truth.

But if you tell him that he doesn’t need to change for you, he'll get really shy. He'll deny feeling jealous, but reassurance of your love would mean a lot to him in the moment.

Ultimately, he just wants to be the one making you smile the most.

“As long as you’re sure you’re happy… Yes, I love you too.”

Leona Kingscholar ; when he sees others trying to take care of you.

Leona is a gentleman. Maybe everyone else has trouble believing so, but he's incredibly attentive once you're together. He escorts you places, buys you things you need, and comforts you when need be.

But if he happens to see someone else trying to do any of that for you, he will not be happy. He sees it as disrespectful, like they're trying to tell him he isn't doing a good enough job. To make it worse, you’re too kind to refuse these gestures from others, which sets his jealousy off.

With his temper, you will know immediately. Leona doesn't like to play games. He will tell you what’s bothering him and ask why you’re entertaining that behavior when he's right there. If you can’t give him an answer, he’ll stick himself to you like glue and won’t let anyone else near you for the day.

Assigns Ruggie to the very important task of keeping tabs on you afterward. Gives him specific instructions to monitor your conversations; if you’re talking to anyone for too long or if they try to do something for you, Ruggie is to interrupt and say you’ve been summoned by Leona.

Mandatory cuddles and telling him you love him is your punishment. He hates feeling jealous.

"You know what you signed up for with me. Now, come here. You’re mine."

Azul Ashengrotto ; when he becomes aware of the options you have.

Seeing how popular you are among the student body makes Azul particularly jealous.

You’re friends with so many others within the walls of Night Raven College; dozens of boys with promising futures make up your circle, including several princes, and all are just one call away from coming to your aid should you ask. So it’s a bit hard for him to not feel jealous when they don't seem to back off even after you announce your relationship.

He’ll wait it out at first, but if they don’t leave you alone he’ll be really ticked off. However, Azul is aware that he isn’t particularly intimidating and can’t fight.

So what does he do? He shows you off instead, to prove to them that you're his.

If he wasn't using Magicam before, now he's posting you every day. He's posting pictures of you with new jewelry he's bought you and images of you cuddled up to him at night, even linking sweet love songs to them.

When he checks his views and finds the individuals that triggered his jealousy, his satisfaction in through the roof. Don’t question his smirk.

If, for some reason, flaunting you on social media isn’t enough, then Azul might have Floyd give your friends a scare. Nothing serious, just enough to make them delete your number and change their routes to class to avoid you. You wont even notice since Azul is now escorting you to class on his arm.

"Do you not want me to show you off? I don't see a problem with reminding everyone who you chose."

Kalim Al-Asim ; when you might be taken away.

Kalim trusts you so much, so he just doesn’t get jealous. Your relationship is so healthy and communication between you is great.

The only time he'd maybe feel jealousy would be if someone planted the idea in his head. Like if Jamil makes a joke about you and someone you're with looking quite close, Kalim might start questioning the situation.

However, he'd be more concerned for your safety than jealous. He'd approach you and drag you away in a rush with an innocent excuse to the other individual. After all, if they're trying to charm you while knowing you’re in a relationship, they have to be bad news.

He'd talk to you about it immediately, though, before any of his thoughts spiral and before you can think he’s overreacting.

Would go heavier on the PDA to remind you he trusts and cares for you. To some extent, he might be thinking he can gross that person out this way so they’ll get the hint and give it up.

Kalim is just too sweet of a guy to feel jealous honestly. There’s not much else to say. He’ll make you feel so safe.

"Just wanted to make sure you were okay! I think we should steer clear of them for now, yeah?"

Vil Schoenheit ; when you don't see what he sees.

Vil gets annoyed easily, definitely. But it would either take something truly concerning or the involvement of someone he deems a threat to make him feel jealousy.

He often acts like he knows what's best for you, so he tells you to stay away from certain classmates. Especially the ones that he sees being a bit too kind to you.

If you dismiss Vil’s concerns and the individuals get bolder with you to spite him, he’ll be pissed. Honestly, if he didn’t have contractual obligations and a reputation to maintain, he might resort to threats.

If it goes on for long enough, he’ll start feeling jealous.

The result is a super petty Vil.

If you want to spend time with him, he'll redirect you to one of those friends. He'll ask you why you want his attention now, when you clearly preferred theirs yesterday.

Though it’s hard for him to turn you away when all he wants is to hug and kiss you, his mind turns it into a silly game to find out if you love him most of all. This keeps him in a cycle of pettiness and insecurity.

Still, he doesn't want to neglect you. He wants you to see his perspective, so once he’s had enough of going without you, he’ll explain why he feels his worries are justified.

Once you exchange apologies, he’ll return all the love he withheld.

"Now do you understand? I'm only trying to protect you from ill intentions."

Idia Shroud ; when he can't be the one that's with you.

Get jealous very often, but keeps it to himself.

Idia knows you have to hang out with others a lot because of his boundaries. He doesn’t always feel comfortable enough to go out, so you ask your other friends for company to avoid pressuring him.

Still, it doesn’t make him feel great that there is always someone jumping at the chance to be with you.

When he gets notifs that you posted to Magicam only to see you looking happy with someone else, his jealousy escalates quickly.

Unfortunately, Idia isn't very good at communication especially when it comes to his feelings. So he will give you space instead, and let you enjoy yourself to prevent ruining your day with his doubts.

He will continue lurking your profiles for the next few days, but he won't like anything or reply to your messages. He'll self-isolate until you come to him, whether it be hours or days later.

When you do come see him in person to ask what’s wrong, you'll be stuck with him a while. He won’t admit to feeling jealous, but it’ll be clear from his questions that he wants to be sure you still want to be with him.

Lots of quality time will fix his mood. He might prefer the quiet of his room to the noisy outside world, but he makes it very clear that you’re always welcome to disturb him. He’d much prefer that to seeing you with other people.

"We can go somewhere together soon, so don't ask anyone else anymore! B-but for now, could you spend the night?"

Malleus Draconia ; when you give away your time with him.

Malleus loves to have alone time with you. He's very grateful that you always reserve time in your day just for him.

But on the occasion that someone seeks to interrupt this time, and you don't turn them away or happen to cancel on Mal entirely for them, that’s when he’d get jealous.

He'd dismiss himself from the situation to let you take care of your business, but he would actually just be hiding nearby and listening.

If the person seems to be taking up your time for reasons that Malleus himself finds unworthy, he won't hesitate to use a bit of magic to make that person suddenly leave you alone, as if possessed.

He’ll return to you pouty and distracted. He’ll initiate lots of physical touch, and might even suggest going to his dorm room while he milks all your affection.

He doesn’t hide feelings of jealousy because he’s learned your instinct is to coddle him when he makes it obvious. Your giggles and half-hearted apologies in response to his melodramatic words of worry make him fall deeper in love.

When he’s jealous, Malleus doesn’t care for words of reassurance as much as he does actions. He is quite secure in your relationship, but he will never get tired of seeing how comfortable you are with him. He loves knowing that you won’t ever run away.

"Now that they're out of the way, I do wish you'd learn to say no. I am quite selfish when it comes to my time with you."

a/n: Okay so I tried to get Riddle's Halloween card but I could NOT get any SSR until freaking pity. Then that last key set gave me both Jack and Ruggie's Dorm Uniform SSRs instead of Riddle 😭 I thought, "Wow, Leona really sent his underclassmen after me?" And that gave me the idea for jealousy hcs…

Hope u all enjoy, holiday prompts will probably be coming soon! kisses <3

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thekeeperof-thefandoms · 19 days

Text

Hazbin Hotel characters react to your stims

(I'm doing my personal favorite characters, so if there are others you wanna see, ask me. They may also be slightly OOC.)

Vox

You can't convince me this man doesn't also have ADHD. He's just spent decades masking it, as well as most of himself, to present a perfect image. Probably heard the term as it got more well known but didn't really connect the dots until meeting you.

He fidgets a lot, tapping his claws, bouncing his legs, can't sit in a fucking chair properly.

Doesn't realize he's overstimulated and burnt out from multi tasking dozens of screens until you point it out.

Once he's aware of it you help him manage his work better so he can be less stimulated and tense. You buy him proper fidget toys to mess with and he makes himself some top of the line bass boosted sound canceling headphones. He gives you a pair, too. When you're both alone, you look up songs with loaded bass in 8d just to watch each other twitch and involuntarily move your head with the sound.

That's about the extent of the conscious level of unmasking he'll do though. He gets self conscious.

But, he adores the fact you're comfortable enough to stim around him. Or in public. He can and will violently end people for even giving you dirty looks for stimming in public.

If you show excitement and joy over being around someone through happy noms he will literally get heart eyes. Just be careful where you bite him because it may lead to something else.

He's happy to let you stim, which means tricking him into doing it more.

He remembers and sub consciously absorbs your echolalias or any word replacements you use. If you do a lot of call and response vocals he learns them. (Call and response is basically when you memorize a sound with two people. One calls the other responds. You can just say both parts yourself ((I do)) but it's more satisfying with someone else).

If you do happy flappies this man will short circuit. (He will laugh if you accidentally smack yourself though).

If you squeal and kick you may give him a heart attack. He thought you were hurt or something. He gets used to it eventually but it still startles him.

Vox is also a chatter box so you two can info dump about special interests to each other for hours. Neither one of you expects the other to remember details, but the fact you don't tell each other to shut up and are content to do your own thing while listening to your partner/friend gush is enough.

He has long since forced himself into strict routines so if you struggle to get tasks started or get distracted in the middle of them he's understanding but stern. Tends to cause more harm than good because he talks down to you unintentionally.

If you're a visual/hands on learner he also gets frustrated with you for wasting hours trying to figure it out yourself and getting yourself upset instead of just letting him do it for you. You get into a lot of fights about it at first. He gets better when he sees it genuinely prevents you from enjoying things or trying new things and that you just kinda default to defeated and helpless. He didn't mean to make you feel dumb, he just doesn't understand why you wouldn't want help. Until the tables turn and as he's getting worked up over something he can't figure out and you just stare at him.

He finally snaps at you what the hell you're doing and you smirk "need help? Why don't I just do it for you and you watch? Come on, you've been struggling for an hour, stop being so stubborn and just let me do it. I'll show you later, it's not hard." You feed his own lines back at him and his stomach drops.

"Oh....that feels...mmmm. Nope! Don't like that. Ok. Won't happen again, doll."

Realistically if you work with him and you make mouth noises a lot (bird whistles, tongue clicks, humming, random shrieks) he will get annoyed. It's distracting him and sometimes you don't realize you're doing it and mess up anything he tries to record. The first few times he snaps at you and it causes problems (hello rejection sensitive dysphoria) but eventually he learns how to better talk to you/communicate without accidentally convincing you he hates you.

Alastor

Probably on the spectrum himself, but it also could just be his anti-social habits. Either way he finds you entertaining and your bouts of sporadic energy and gremlin like behavior don't phase him. He's been dealing with Niffty for years.

If you sing or hum a lot to get work done, or listen to music he's all for it. But if you're the type of ADHD where work fast music=horny and bass he'll insist you wear headphones. If you're content to listen to swing (he'll compromise with electroswing) or jazz, he'll play the radio for you.

He doesn’t even care if you're a good singer or not, he just likes seeing you get into it. Will show off by singing it better than you though.

If you're someone who picks your fingers or skin, he'll slap your hands. You bleeding is making him hungry and distracting him. He'll find you something else to do with your hands. Same with nail biting.

He tends to pull his hair when stressed so if you stim with your hair he gets it and unless it's harmful (eating/pulling) he'll leave it, but if you're like him he's either cutting your hair short or braiding it.

Will die before admitting it but thinks you flapping, hopping, clapping, squealing is the most adorable thing ever. Also, laughs at you if you smack yourself, though.

Doesn't understand your memes so half your echolalia go over his head and he just kinda stares at you.

Scolds you for not sitting in the chair properly.

Smiles, nods, and occasionally says "that's nice dear" when you info dump. It's not that he doesn't care, he just can't listen to something he's not interested in for that long.

Mouth noises make his eye twitch but so long as they don't interrupt him, he won't scold you.

He understands you're not dumb but he also doesn't have the patience to help your or wait for you to get things done so he does them for you and tells you stop pouting when you get upset with him.

He likes you enough to not reject your touch and enjoys being in your space, but please refrain from happy biting the cannibal. He will bite back and it's less cute when he does.

Lucifer

The original AUDHD. You two chatter for hours about special interests.

He makes you stim toys.

You two do the adhd laugh so hard over dumb shit you gotta hold onto and smack each other thing. You both wind up on the floor.

Literally would never talk down to you or trigger your RSD. He's spent centuries feeling like he's constantly annoying, dumb, and struggling to time manage and do tasks.

Is equally fed up with people offering to do things for him because he can do it he just needs help getting started. The more you ask if he wants you to do it or when he's gonna do it the harder it is. So you two just sorta hobble together a system for getting shit done.

It's not perfect but if it gets outta hand he can just snap his fingers and fix it.

He happy flaps with his hands and wings and constantly knocks you or other shit over. It embarrasses him but you're in love. You two sometimes hold hands to do the happy bounce squeal, shaking each other.

He initiates happy bites more than you do. Honestly you both start looking like chew toys.

You two echolali all the time and share new ones you find. If you ever can't find each other, just shout one of your current vocal stims and he'll respond.

Literally, the definition of choas couple.

#hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel vox #vox x reader #alastor x reader #lucifer x reader

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moonchildstyles · 7 months

Text

épanouissement

élan final part: there was no place like home, even if the people there tried to wreck it

wordcount: 22k+

—————

"You think this is going to make it stop?"

Harry slammed the boot of the car closed, their bags packed away with the sun low on the horizon. He didn't seem particularly optimistic when he gave (Y/N) a curt nod, but she couldn't blame him.

"'S the best I can think of right now," he murmured, "They at least won't know where you are or where to send anything. We jus' need to get through until we can make it back to New York, then we'll have more options."

She could tell Harry was still frustrated with the fact they couldn't fly back home at the moment, her father being the very obvious roadblock. That had been his first iteration of this plan; that they leave Paris behind and get back to the high-rises where she had the rest of her letters stowed away. Harry wanted to file something, go public with this kind of information and make it known that she wasn't safe—do anything to get this person off of her back if there was nothing that could be legally done with only the letters as evidence. But, to get back would require either her father's jet, or her very public return—two things that would rattle his cage and cause something she wasn't willing to deal with on top of everything else.

That was how they made it here: bags packed, and car heading out of Paris for the time being.

This had been Plan C (right behind A, that consisted of Harry hunting down this person and ending this mess in a rage, and B, heading home and gaining proper protection from authorities or otherwise). Searching through vacation listings in rural villages bordering Paris, Harry had found something far enough away he could buy her privacy while waiting for the chance to make it back to New York. It had been decided he would rent the cottage under his much less recognizable name and they would hide amongst the fields before an opportunity for something more concrete presented itself.

(Y/N) had never lived in a small town before, the mansion upstate with her parents having been the least populated area she'd resided in, but that had nothing on the tiny village Harry had pinpointed. His reasoning came from the fact that it would be incredibly hard to blend in while out there, no crowds around to slip into and no real reason anyone should be carrying around a professional camera. At the very least, it would provide a challenge for someone who was so used to herding (Y/N) into crowds and peeping through windows to get a glimpse.

It didn't take much convincing for her to go along with the getaway plan, Harry having urgently pitched it to her with his own duffle bag already half packed by the time he shared the details. She had enough time to pack her essentials (and maybe some non-essentials that came in the form of the bouquet of roses Harry brought her, now dried and preserved carefully in her bag), sleep on the idea, then they were off. Though she knew the purpose and was actually kind of excited to actually get away for the first time in her life, it was an odd feeling to see the structures and people of Paris pass outside of the window, growing smaller in the rearview the further Harry drove them out.

Her only hope was that no one was following them, thwarting their plan before it had even sprung into motion. This person was no stranger to camping around her home and spotting her as soon as she appeared. (Y/N) just had to trust Harry; he wouldn't have suggested this upheaval if he didn't believe the outcome would be the one he wanted, ending with her safe and happy as he had told her time and time again that was all he wanted.

Looking at him from the corner of her eye, the shine of Paris passing by the window in whizzing blurs behind him, she saw him with that new filter that had lingered since the night they kissed. Everything was just a little bit softer, a little hazier. Even with the sharp set in his jaw and the thinned line of his lips, she knew if she plucked just a hair closer she would see the ridges of his mouth that had been pressed against hers, the tip of his nose that brushes against her cheek, the sun-dappled stubble that had grazed her chin and was soft under her hands when he deepened the seal of their lips. She no longer only knew what he looked like, she knew what he felt like.

Though, they hadn't kissed since, instead leaving a blurred line between them. Harry no longer seemed to hold many reservations about that professional line that had developed, those grazes of his hand over hers or the way he hovered around her in the kitchen were no longer reserved for only the times that he was leading her through packed situations or acting as the security he was hired on as. He no longer shied away from her the same way he had before, the buffer of space having dissipated. He had even stolen a bite of her dinner right off her fork the night before, sharing a glass of wine where he pressed his lips into the same space she had supped from just before.

There was a level of intimacy they now shared, even if they hadn't touched the limits of the barrier since.

Even now, (Y/N) knew that if she peeled his hand away from the steering wheel, pressed her palm against his and laced their fingers together, Harry wouldn't hesitate to reciprocate that hold.

But, she wasn't sure how to do it.

She'd never been shy around a man before, not since she was a teenager. No attraction was ever serious enough for her to feel as if she were silly for acting the way she did or looking the way she did. She didn't lack confidence when it came to those she wanted, but Harry was different. He made her flustered and shy, sheepish and fluttering under the skin and she didn't know how to feel about that.

He made her feel like she needed to journal about him, add the night in the kitchen to her diary so she would never forget about the way his voice wrapped around the words sweet girl and how he promised he cared for her.

Even spying him now, the lines of his profile being haloed with the buttery light of the fringes of the city, (Y/N) felt her heart skip in her chest.

It was worth it to be flustered by him.

—————

After over an hour of golden fields and rose tinted air, the paved road making way for a gravel trail, the cottage of Harry's choice came into view.

Along the way, (Y/N) had been enamored with the scenery outside, spotting farms with grazing animals, swaying stalks of lavender, and the neighbourhoods growing smaller and smaller, actual neighbours getting few and far between. If Paris smelled like butter and wine, this rural area smelled of lavender and fresh linen. (Y/N) wanted to bask in the sunlight pouring over the land.

While Paris was one of her great loves, a place she was happy she could show Harry, this was exciting to her. The idea of experiencing this place for the first time with him at her side was enough to have her tummy fluttering into delicately ribboned knots. A new first together, she thought.

Just like the photos online showed, the cottage was small, showcasing just enough space for what the listing entailed. The frame was built with tan cobblestones, sandy shades emulating the wheat fields they passed on the way, warm and sunny. A small chimney was stationed on the side of the house, white trim outlining the windows and coloring the door. From where they were pulling in, she could see just the corner of the back porch. Bushes of deep greens and wine red roses were blooming against the buttery backdrop, standing low next to the croppings of lavender. Up the small chimney, ivy vines traced the brickwork, tiny white blooms fluttering in the wind. It was like a storybook, (Y/N) thought.

"This is beautiful, Harry," she whispered in awe, eyes the size of her heart as she took in the whole place.

"I saw the roses and figured this would be the place for us," he told her, his voice low though she could still hear the tinge of pride.

There was that fluster in her chest, the sheepish feeling that had her skin warming. For us, he said.

Pulling her gaze from the home, (Y/N) watched from the passenger seat as Harry pulled them into the tiny gravel drive. Her lips curled into a soft smile.

"I love it."

As soon as Harry had them parked in the drive safely, (Y/N)'s jittery excitement couldn't be contained. She was excited to check out their designated safe house, skipping out of the car and heading towards the storybook porch, saddled by bushels of lavender and roses. Harry hung back, grabbing their bags from the boot.

"(Y/N)," he called, his voice carrying over the lavender-scented breeze, "Before y'go in, there's only one bedroom."

Stopping in her tracks, (Y/N) turned on her heel. For a split second she thought about what it would be like to share a bed with him, to feel his arms wrapped around her waist and head nestled in her shoulder the way he always did when he held her. She saw that in the morning often, but she wondered if it would be different to wake up next to him, to see the mess of curls on his head and the bleary blinks of his eyes. She didn't hate the idea at all.

Staying put, she canted her head as she looked at him, hoping she was playing it cool. "Oh?"

He nodded his head, pushing the trunk closed with a fist full of two duffle bags (both hers). "I was planning on sleeping on the couch, but I want to tell y'before y'saw."

Harry caught up with her as she stood in her spot, shifting her weight with her bottom lip tucked between her teeth. "Are you sure?"

Meeting her eyes, the flecks of gold in his irises shimmering like stars in this light, he remained resolute. "'M sure. I jus' want you to be comfortable."

There's a part of her that wanted to argue that she would be more than comfortable with sharing the single bed with him, sleeping with the window open and sharing body heat under the linen. Though, that part of her didn't have a chance before Harry was forging ahead and unlocking the front door.

He went inside first, leaving (Y/N) to follow after with a view of his broad shoulders. He dropped the bags quietly in the tiny tiled space in front of the door, already peering around the cottage.

"Wait here for me," he murmured, getting that set in his gaze she remembered from the first time he had toured her apartment.

Kicking off her shoes, she stayed put while he cased the space, checking for any and everything. From where she was, no cameras could be found, or any open windows or cracked doors. Nonetheless, those closed windows were now locked, the closed doors were blown open, and every corner was double checked for any kind of camera that could be hiding in plain sight.

"Is everything okay?" she asked after Harry disappeared into the main bedroom.

Wandering out a moment later, he gave her an absent nod, his gaze stuck to the ceiling as if one of the dust motes in the air would suddenly start recording their conversation. "I think 's alright, jus' let me know if y'notice anything weird, please."

"Got it! Thank you," she beamed, feeling a bit too excited to start traipsing around the place. She hadn't felt like this since Francesca offered her a spot on her family's annual Switzerland trip and she saw the levels of the cabin they owned.

Taking in the small common area that would double as Harry's bedroom, she was endeared by the small television propped on the vintage wooden stand pressed against the wall. She could imagine sitting with Harry before bed, trying to watch an episode of Julia Childs and figuring out what exactly it was that she said before dropping the duck into the pan. It was cozy and small, complete with an overstuffed couch, a crocheted doily across the back and an uneven coffee table. There was a small space designated as the dining area just behind the couch, looking into the kitchen that was tucked away from the serenity of the living room. A huge pantry was the back wall of the kitchen, space left for any and everything (Y/N) could imagine.

There was another small hallway past the kitchen that led to the bathroom as well as what would be (Y/N)'s bedroom. A large window had been molded into the wall of the bedroom, giving a view into the back garden, complete with the small porch on the backside of the house. On the bed was a fresh pile of linen to be stretched across the mattress, fluffy pillows at the head. Inside the bathroom hung an ornate mirror, complete with a golden frame and a clawfoot bathtub. An even smaller short has been tucked into the corner, the tile matching the sunny, buttery tones throughout the cottage.

Everywhere she went smelled like powdery fresh linen, rosewater and lulling lavender. She'd never been so far away from a bustling city to experience something like this. The space was cozy and secluded, warm and inviting. She felt like she was sitting in a fairytale—this home fit for Beauty And The Beast. Bread should be baking somewhere, a pristine rose encased in glass.

She had thought Paris was the best place to be exiled, but even the city couldn't compare to this. Though she didn't have much to compare it to (thankfully) she figured this had to be the best of the best when it came to safe houses.

The best part? Checking her phone, she found she had limited service when not connected to Wi-Fi. Though it was small, that detail made it that much harder for someone to get into contact with her.

"Like it?" she heard Harry ask from where he sauntered through the doorway, his expression easy and warm as he gazed at her.

"I love it," she answered through a beaming smile, grazing her hand over the fresh linens waiting on her bed, "Thank you." Watching the spring back of the sheets against her hand, the fluff of the pillows waiting to cushion her head, she tried again, "Are you sure about the couch? Really sure?"

The bed was big enough for the both of them, she wanted to tell him. She wouldn't mind.

It was the half of a heartbeat's worth of lag before he answered her that had (Y/N) looking up to intently watch him. But, he was a master of a stoic face, giving nothing away as per usual. "'M sure, really," he cemented, "It'll make it easier for me to be right there in case anything happens, anyway. This looks like the kind of best y'could get lost in if you're not careful."

(Y/N) made a point not to think too hard about his words before she was relenting with a soft okay. Glancing out the window that made up a third of the wall, she fixed her eyes to the blossoming roses.

"Should we go check out the garden? Maybe there's vegetables we can use to make something."

The roses couldn't hold a candle to the way Harry's lips bloomed into a smile, complete with dimples and bright eyes the color of healthy, thornless stems. He held a hand towards her, "Yeah, c'mon."

This place was perfect, she decided, slipping her hand in his and allowing Harry to parade her through their temporary home. Just the flowers and Harry.

—————

Sitting on the overstuffed couch that doubled as Harry's bed, (Y/N) had her legs curled up underneath her and the T.V. in front of her showing an animated movie in French. Harry was at her side, legs spread with his arm laid across the back of the furniture, eyes squinted as he tried to decipher what exactly was playing on screen.

"What did they jus' say?" he asked, his question muttered as he craned his neck forward as if that would make him understand any better.

(Y/N) let out a soft breath of laughter, her eyes on the movie with a small rat skittering through the sewers, cookbook in tow. "We just finished watching this in English, you know what they said."

"I don't know what"—he added a jumble of letters accented in French, essentially speaking gibberish to prove his point—"means," he pointed out, shaking his head.

A peal of boisterous laughter left her lips over his half-hearted attempt, rolling into his chest with her eyes squeezing closed.

"You're not even trying anymore," she laughed, settling into Harry's side as he curled around her.

She fit against him like a puzzle piece, her head on his shoulder and his arm falling from around the couch to cocoon around her. Despite no more than a single kiss being shared between them, this intimacy, the comfortable touching and casual affection, had been the level they had reached, the outcome of that night in the kitchen.

"Do you really want to know what they're saying?" she asked, a touch breathless once her laughing settled down.

"I do, yeah," he murmured, his nose grazing the top of her head as he dropped his chin. He spoke to her like he was sharing a secret, something only for her to hear, and not a quiet request for translation.

(Y/N) translated for him, sharing the English version of whatever string of gibberish he had let out. Her voice was low, matching the volume of his own.

"How do you say it the right way—in French?" he asked after a beat, his tone lulled into something softer.

A small smile curled her lips. She loved it when he asked her to do something like this, to share the language with him. Bubbling it off, she shared the flourish of the sentence that he had already heard on screen just moments before.

A beat passed, Harry's arm around her tucking her into the cove his body was making around hers. "What did they say now?"

And the game began.

Despite the way he was asking about the movie, looking for translations and the French flourish to be slowed down for him in her voice, it wasn't about the script or the plot anymore. This was one of his favorite games to play with her, and (Y/N) indulged him every time. She liked reciting the lines for him, having him repeat them back at times if he wasn't too eager to fire off another excuse for her to speak French to him. More than once, he pulled away from her just enough to watch her speak, see the way her mouth formed around the words and the accent trolling off of her tongue.

"Have you learned how to say anything since I started helping you?" (Y/N) teased, her smile easy as she gazed up at him with her head resting on his shoulder.

His gaze lingered over her features, the tip of his tongue peaking out to wet his lips. "I know a few things," he said, decidedly more serious than her own tone.

"Like what?" she pressed through her soft-lipped smile.

Harry started off easy, reciting off words that he'd garnered from his time in the kitchen with her. "Tomate, carotte, ail, soupe, poireau," he listed off, counting on his fingers with each one, even as (Y/N)'s laughter rose.

Of course he would remember all of the food related words she'd taught him—he always paid a lot more attention when she was making him dinner.

Twisting on the cushions, (Y/N) turned to face him, her side now pressed against the back of the couch with Harry's arm around her with his hand settling on her hip. He watched on as she bubbled with laughter, her features bright and laugh filling the small cottage.

"That's all you know?" she giggled.

"I know a little more," Harry promised, looking a little smug before his gaze started tracing over the planes of her face. As her laughter died down, she wished she knew what he was thinking as he looked at her. She wondered what he saw in moments like these. "I know rose," he started, his words drawling and lingering a little more this time, "Pétale. Magnifique."

He went on to describe another color when he locked eyes with her, his gaze shifting over her skin and hair, more descriptors following after. Everything was said with a lingering flourish, as if they were more than just colors and little words he'd picked up, but more like a poem he was reciting. She watched as his raspberry lips wrapped around every word, even if he fumbled the pronunciation just a hair. More and more gentle, tender expressions left his lips, his eyes warming and deep as he looked at her the whole time.

"Douce," he finished with, his eyes lingering on the shape of her mouth. The room suddenly felt charged the longer he gazed at her, (Y/N) warming under his eyes.

"I never taught you those," she murmured, smiling with a cant to her head, trying her best to keep her head straight.

"I know," he answered on a soft exhale, his attention obviously taken elsewhere.

"Where'd you learn it then?"

"Myself."

"Yeah?" she asked, the corners of her lips lifting that much more, "When did you do that?"

She could only ever recall him reciting things she had taught him, never anything like this. Though it wasn't that complicated, some of the words he'd shown off with, it was more than he'd come to the country with and she was proud of him for learning any at all when he easily could have relied on her for translation the whole time.

Harry shrugged casually, though the silence suggested anything but. The audio of the movie had become nothing more than white noise, a vague French song in the background of this scene.

"I—Um—I wanted..." he started, words fumbling and distracted. The full of his bottom lip became trapped between his teeth, a slight pause before he regained himself with a clearing grumble of his throat. Harry looked at her through his lashes, "I want to know how to describe you if I ever needed help to find you."

"So you learned sweet and gorgeous?"

(Y/N) wanted to tease him, give him an easy smile and laugh with him, but her voice stuck in her throat. There wasn't anything to tease him about, anything that could cut through the breathless tension. He was admitting to thinking she was pretty, and that was enough to stutter her lungs.

"Isn't that you?" he deadpanned, with genuine intensity sitting in his eyes.

The heart shape of his lips fell into a soft gape as he gazed at her. The hold he had on her hip tightened that much more. If not for the fact that she was hyper-aware of everything him, she doubted she wouldn't have noticed the minute way his breathing hitched, his throat slightly bobbing.

Maybe she needed to give it a second thought, allow a moment of pause, but (Y/N) didn't hesitate before she was reaching across and pressing her lips to Harry's. Only a beat of lag came from him; his neck stiffened under her hands she had looped around to connect at his nape, the fingers on her hip flexing. It didn't take long for him to lose himself in the kiss, melting against her and tipping his head to reciprocate.

Slotting his lips against hers, he cradled her top lip between his two and kissed her with everything that had been waiting since the last time they had a moment like this. He was able to curl himself around her, cupping her hip and using the bar of his arm to tuck her against his chest. (Y/N) kept her hands locked around his neck, fingers twiddling with the baby hairs fringing his hairline.

Deepening the kiss, she tipped her head, the tip of his nose brushing the apple of her cheek. His chest pressing against hers as he pulled in a deep breath, the warm fanning across her skin when they broke away for a heartbeat. Harry followed her, sealing his lips against hers once more, shifting that much closer to her on the couch. His hand on her hip skated up her side, creasing and bunching her shirt up her side as he came to rest his palm on the ladder of her ribs. His grip strengthened there, matching the intensity of his kiss as he slid the tip of his tongue across the seam of her lips, hugging her to his chest with her arms bundled between. She clung to his shirt, fisting the fabric as if he could slip away if she wasn't careful.

"Harry," she whispered, pulling away. She just wanted him to open his eyes; she wanted to see him again, remember that this was the man she was kissing, the same one she met in her father's office.

Drawing away just enough to match her gaze, she watched intently as he opened his eyes with a flutter of his lashes. His pupils were dilated, his eyes increasingly dark compared to the mossy jade that typically made up his iris. His lips were kiss-swollen and cheeks rosy with a heated flush.

She had done this to him, the quiet rise and fall of his chest, the way he couldn't seem to look away from her for even a split second.

The thought had her throwing herself back into the kiss, her hands around the back of his neck shifting until she was cradling his jawline in her palms. The stubble covering the skin prickled against her palms, the soft skin of his cheeks moving with every heavy kiss he planted upon her lips. Harry's free hand that had been carefully resting on his thigh abandoned post, coming up to cup the side of her throat, his thumb circling the hinge of her jaw. He held her steady as he pushed against her, giving and giving and giving while her soft mouth cushioned the full of his kissing.

"C'mere," he murmured against her lips, his voice a heated breath fanning across.

With that, he used his arm he had wrapped around her, holding her hip, to pull her to his lap. He helped position her atop him, her thighs splitting to fit his hips between, her feet folding underneath to hook under his thighs. His own legs were still spread, with sifting heavy and hard bulging in his lap. Both of his hands came to cup her bottom, keeping her steady on his lap with his fingertips digging into the plush skin there.

(Y/N)'s fingertips curled in the baby hairs bordering his hairline, her brows coming to a furrow as she rested heavily on his hard cock. His hands on her ass held her flush against him, until he seemed to grow restless and started using his leverage to roll her hips against his in slow grinds.

There wasn't anything urgent in the way he moved her, gripping her and lifting her until she slid down the bulge in a lingering stroke. It was indulgent. It matched the lingering kisses, the heavy breaths in the air, the way (Y/N) couldn't seem to have him close enough and Harry couldn't taste her enough.

While their first kiss had been entirely romantic and revealing, backlit by the Eiffel Tower and scented with confessions of adoration, this was different. She had been missing him before she had even kissed him. Now, combined with every moment she had wished she had him after that night in her kitchen, it was all coming together and fueling this moment.

She couldn't help the small, breathy moan she let out against his mouth, Harry's fingers flexing against the plushness of her bottom. He pulled away then, though his lips never left her skin. He turned to messy, streaking kisses splayed over her cheek, down her jaw, and over the column of her throat.

"Feel good?" he asked, his voice a smear against her skin.

(Y/N) threw her head back, feeling his cock twitch between her legs. God, she had never been more grateful for the thin fabric of her sleep-shorts and the fact it seemed Harry didn't like to wear any boxers under his sweats.

"Uh-huh," she breathed, her neck stretching under his lips with more space for him to make his mark.

Harry did just that, his teeth scraping against her skin with a sharp nip, her body tensing against his. (Y/N) was melting, melting, melt—

Until something outside seemingly crashed on the ground, a clattering noise ringing across the patio out back.

(Y/N) startled in her skin, clinging to Harry in a different way with her chest rapidly rising and falling against his. Her eyes were wide, the vignette that clouded her vision and sunk her deeper into this moment with him dissipated in an instant. Harry held her for a moment, seemingly startled himself, until he sprung into action.

"Wait here," he murmured, twisting her off his lap and settling her into the couch cushion.

He didn't look back when her hands dropped from him, her body curling in on itself as he disappeared. She knew he had gone through the kitchen, reaching for something in a cabinet before the backdoor was thrown open and Harry stomped outside.

She wished she could get a glance of him somehow, shakily rising to her knees. She looked over the back of the couch, hoping to spot him through the small trio of windows that lined the back wall of the dining area.

They both had the same suspect in mind, she was sure of that. And, by the direction the last photos she had looked at began taking, her admirer—stalker, she reminded herself—was starting to turn on Harry. She didn't want him getting hurt.

There was no telling how long he'd been outside with the way time seemed to stand still then. (Y/N) knelt there, waiting, watching, worrying her lip between her teeth and finding anything to worry her hands with.

It could have been hours by the time the back door opened once more, Harry stomping through and reappearing. This time, she saw him with a gun in his hand, something she'd never seen him with but figured he would have had given the nature of his job. He took a moment to leave it on the dining table, the barrel facing away from her before he turned to face (Y/N).

His eyes were wild, hair a mess.

"What was it?" (Y/N) asked, even her whisper feeling too loud for this moment.

Harry shook his head, seemingly decompressing when she shuttered his eyes and took in a deep breath. The sharp set to his shoulders didn't deplete, but the lines beside his eyes finally relaxed. He ambled towards her on slow feet, his demeanor defeated despite being her saving grace in that moment.

"Some animals got into a fight in the garden," he told her. He stopped to stand in front of her, placing his hands on either side of her where she still knelt with her own fingers digging into the backing cushion of the couch. He looked down at her with hooded eyes, coming down from the skyrocketing adrenaline that had pumped through both of them. "'M sorry."

"For what?" she pressed, dumbfounding that he would be apologizing then. It wasn't as if he made the noise that spooked the life out of her.

He rolled his neck, his eyes dropping down to the curve of her throat. "I didn't mean to interrupt," he explained, his choice of words careful as they fell from his mouth, "I jus'..."

"No, don't be sorry," she insisted, a furrow to her brow as she laid her hand atop his. Though she felt a bit shy thinking about what exactly had been interrupted, she didn't want him to hold any guilt for something that was far from his fault. "I don't blame you, or anything. We're hiding for a reason, even if it's been really easy to forget these last couple of weeks. You still technically have a job to do instead of just watching movies with me and doing the dishes while I nap."

She was trying her hand at being light-hearted, hoping to alleviate the fatigue that had entered his system. She wanted him to smile again.

Unfortunately, all he did was shake his head again. The man she had been snuggling and kissing on the couch was out of commission for the time being it seemed.

"I need to be paying more attention," he told her, his tone resolute as if he had failed her. He stepped away then. "'M going to see if I can find any temporary security cameras I can put up outside."

With that, the conversation was seemingly over while he rifled through his duffle bag for his laptop.

Reality was sinking in against once more, the rose petals falling around her.

This wasn't a vacation, she had to remember, a lusty getaway with a dreamy man. There was a reason—a good and important reason—that they had to flee the way they did.

—————

"Are you going to bed?" (Y/N) asked, meeting Harry's eyes from where he stood in the doorway of her bathroom. He had lent against the jamb, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched her through the mirror.

"Yeah," he said after a beat, seemingly coming alive from where he was watching her twist her damp hair into a braid. "Jus' wanted to come say goodnight."

Harry had been decidedly quiet after the clatter from outside, a distance having been put up between them despite the intimacy they shared just moments before it had been shattered. (Y/N) hadn't expected him to visit her after the sun went down, assuming she would have to wait until the morning to see him again and hope he was less in his head after a night's rest.

The fact he came to see her at all, waited until she was out of the shower and readying herself for bed, brought a wide grin to her face.

Turning on her heel, she met his eyes head-on, no longer having to go through the mirror. "Goodnight," she murmured through her smile, "I'll see you in the morning for breakfast?"

Harry's eyes lingered over her. Her skin was especially soft and warm after her shower, scented with Miss Dior and the rose petals that seemed to follow every room in the cottage. The high points of her face were coated in a dewy shine from her moisturizer, her hair soft from her conditioner. A set of silky pajamas slid over her freshly exfoliated skin, softening Harry's phantom hold she pretended she hadn't been thinking about all afternoon.

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, "I'll see you in the morning. Goodnight, (Y/N)."

Expecting him to head out to the living room to sleep then, (Y/N) was surprised when he did the opposite. Harry reached out and settled a heavy hand on her waist, pulling her to him with a gentle tug. Dipping down, he pressed his lips to hers in a tender kiss. Everything was innocent, nothing heated or deepened. He kept his hand on her waist and lips sealed her hers for a breath before he fell away. The tip of his nose skimmed hers before he pulled back completely.

He looked at her with flushed cheeks and wide eyes, as if he couldn't believe he'd done the same thing.

(Y/N) only looked up at him with a wide smile touching her lips, reaching her hand out to clasp his for a moment. That disbelief in his eyes melted then, knowing that she wanted that kiss as much as he did.

"I'll see you in the morning."

Harry squeezed her hand in his before giving her a quiet nod, dimples in his cheeks.

Her eyes were on him until he left her room, though he was on her mind for the rest of the night.

—————

"Yeah, I'm fine. We just decided to leave the city for a bit. I realized I'd never been anywhere but Paris, and Harry was able to find this cute little cottage available for a few weeks so we took it."

(Y/N) prattled with the crocheted doily on the dining table, tugging at the edges and slipping her fingers through the knit, with her phone pressed to her ear. Francesca had called as soon as she read the text (Y/N) had sent, apologizing for the delay in getting back to her here weeks with her spotty service so far from the city. Fran had plenty of questions, too many for a text she decided.

"How far from the city is it that you barely have service?" Francesca pressed, the mortification easily detectable in her voice. (Y/N) couldn't blame her, the lack of consistent bars on her phone was rough the first few days, but the WiFi was good enough to stream movies and that was all she could ask for.

"Pretty far," (Y/N) mused, tiptoeing around the details for no other reason than she liked the level of anonymity she was gaining from this spur of the moment flee. Telling Fran seems like it would ruin the illusion.

Looking up, (Y/N) saw Harry quietly smiling to himself as he stirred the roasted tomato soup he had going on the stove. She had watched him prep for a half an hour, carefully slicing and sautéing ingredients he plucked from the garden along with the few he picked from the Farmer's Market he went to earlier in the week. That was how he was landed with dinner duty for the night, Harry having claimed he picked out the perfect things for a grilled cheese and soup—and he wanted to show her.

She smiled too, watching him stir, stir, stir just like she taught him was important. (While it may not have been as vital as she made it out to be when she had him as her sous chef, it was cute thinking he had clung onto that and used it for his own meals).

"Everyone's been worried about you," Fran shared, her words coming out on a sigh, "There's even been blogs trying to claim you died or something, all because there hasn't been anything posted about you since that date with that guy. And, because you haven't posted anything since before the Gala."

(Y/N)'s smile stretched at the new information. If there was nothing new for over three weeks to be shared about her, not even off-hand pap pictures or a blurry fan photo, there was no way anyone could know where she was. Her stalker wasn't the patient kind, if they'd found her already, there would be no way they'd keep it a secret to her or the press.

"Well, I'm not," (Y/N) joked, "There's no reason to worry or anything, though, seriously. I'm really happy."

From where Harry stood at the stove, that smile on his face widened, a deep dimple on his cheek.

"I'm sure you are with your bodyguard," Francesca laughed, her bright voice rising over the phone, "But, are you coming home soon? I miss you—New York is boring without you."

"I don't know," (Y/N) answered, dropping her eyes to her twiddling hands, "I haven't really talked to my father or anything about coming back, so... But you'll be the first to know when I know."

Honestly, (Y/N) didn't think she was ready to return to the city. While she knew this was temporary—the cottage, Harry's doting, everything so tranquil about this space—until they could make it back to the city and do something productive to end this stalker's obsession with her, she still couldn't help the way she was falling in love with it. Everything was easier here; lavender followed her like rose petals and even the sunshine seemed to have this clean smell. Even with the noise that rattled the cottage, that had been the one isolated incident that had put them on their twos, everything else solidly safe.

All (Y/N) did all day was ease into herself and into Harry—into the person she was when she was with him. Even he had begun loosening up; his job was still incredibly serious to him (he really did end up going out and grabbing these small security cameras he could access through his phone, the gadgets set up outside of the cottage to catch anyone approaching), but the slow-pace of the countryside was getting to him, she could tell.

Kisses were even shared freely between them now, less of a production of built up tension and more of a gift they could give—a reminder the other was there and was thinking of them.

She didn't want that to change if they were to stray from this cottage.

"Well, you need to come back soon," Fran started, the sounds of a pout in her voice, "Besides, I heard Dami—Oh, shit, I'm late for a nail appointment. I have to go!"

(Y/N) couldn't help the laugh that bubbled to her lips at Francesca's sudden plans. She couldn't remember many times she was ever on time for any kind of appointment.

"Okay, text me later, then," (Y/N) said.

"For sure, for sure" Francesca bubbled, "I'll talk to you soon, love you!"

"Love you, too. Bye, Fran."

Francesca barely said her own goodbyes before she hung up, leaving (Y/N) shaking her head as she pulled her phone from her face. Looking up, she saw Harry looking to her with a soft smile on his face, his features molded into soft curves.

"Everything alright?" he asked, his eyes following her as she stood from the dining table and joined him in the kitchen.

Peeking inside the pot, seeing all the herbs and spicing floating through the soup, (Y/N) took in a deep breath. "Needy," she joked, reveling in the small laugh Harry let out for her, though his stirring never ceased, "She just misses me, she said. People are starting to think I'm dead apparently, since I haven't posted anything and there haven't been any more pictures coming out of me."

"Yeah?" he pressed, brows raised as he looked at her. Now he stopped stirring the wooden spoon, his direct attention on her.

"Yeah," she smiled, excited to share the news, "I think we're doing good. I don't think anyone knows where we are; we're doing good."

Pride found a home on Harry's features then. "We're doing good, yeah," he affirmed, smile growing on his lips.

Everything felt good in that moment.

For the first time in a while—years, even—there wasn't the threat of eyes on her that (Y/N) had learned to live with. She didn't have the urge to look over her shoulder and catch someone in the act with a camera in her face. Here, she was able to indulge in the small moments with Harry: watching him cook a simple dinner, watching movies she hadn't seen in years, going over a week without wearing a single spot of makeup on her skin.

Just as (Y/N) snatched a bit of cheese Harry had left over on his cutting board, a firm hand wrapped around her waist tugging her to a firm chest. Harry's familiar lips were pressed to hers in a breath, soft and giving. (Y/N) couldn't help the smile that formed against his mouth.

Pulling away (Y/N) gave him that same smile he felt, letting him see it for real. She would never not see a model when she looked at him, feeling that much more lucky to be with him here, knowing he cared about her.

"Ready for dinner?" he muttered, his voice dancing through his quiet, dimpled smile.

A teasing edge entered her lips. "What are we having?"

Her smile only widened when Harry answered her with gummy French words, nothing at all like she had taught him to say just a few hours prior.

"Almost," she laughed, biting back her smile with her bottom lip between her teeth.

"Yeah? You'll have to teach me again," Harry cemented just before he pressed another kiss to her lips.

—————

Harry looked at the grocery list in his hand with intensity, his brows in a furrow.

"This is everything we need?" he asked looking at (Y/N) through his lashes.

"Mhm," she hummed, running through what she had written down one more time in her head, "But, if you find anything that looks really good, just grab it and we'll make something with it. Please."

"Okay," he sighed, sounding unsure despite the fact the trip to the farmer's market was his idea.

He got this way, mood shifting, every time he had to head out without her since coming to the cottage. It wasn't his favorite thing to leave her behind, numerous worst case scenarios floating around his head when he had to, but it was an even worse option to take her along. Having her seen out and about would defeat the whole purpose of running to the countryside. It wasn't something either of them were willing to sacrifice.

Nonetheless, it didn't make it easier for him.

"You'll be fast, H," she reminded him, reaching out to lay her palm on his forearm, "I'll be okay."

"I know," he answered automatically, though (Y/N) could see the gears turning, his head spinning just under the surface of his stoic calm.

Stretching to her tiptoes, she pressed a small kiss to his cheek, right where his dimple would dent if he were smiling. "Come home soon, okay?"

This time, when his eyes met hers, she could still see the intensity though it was dulled by something soft and dazed. "Okay," he murmured, his answer simple.

"Then go," (Y/N) prompted him with a small smile, standing back to usher him towards the door before he could change his mind, "The faster you leave, the faster you can come back to me."

Harry didn't leave until he pressed a grazing kiss to the tip of her nose, then he was out the door with another promise to come home within the next hour. She sent him off from the front door, waving to him as he backed out of the drive and entered the main stretch of road towards the village center.

She hoped he found some roses to bring home with him.

—————

Tucked into bed, bright moonlight shone through (Y/N)'s bedroom. Looking through the windows, she had never seen so many stars in the sky. How could so many of them exist and her never actually seeing more than a handful at a time?

(Y/N)'s breath caught when she heard her door knob rattle, the sound aggressive compared to the tranquility of the night. Harry wouldn't do something like that, would he?

She didn't have to question anymore who it could be when the door slammed open a moment later. A faceless man barged in, heading directly towards her bed with rough hands reaching out towards her.

Though she wanted to scream, to feel her throat burn with the breadth of her voice, nothing came out. Her light linen bedding was too heavy for her to move, clinging to her body and tying her down. She could do nothing as the man approached, her being his only target.

Where's Harry? That was all she could think about. Where was he? Was he okay? He never would have let anything like this happen to her if he could stop it. Horror wretched through her body at the thought of him giving himself to be gravely injured in an attempt to save her. Her eyes burned with tears.

Where is he, where is he, where is he—

The man's rough hand closed around her throat.

Shooting awake, (Y/N) was drenched in sweat. Her breathing was heavy, her eyes burning from tears she had shed in her sleep. No moonlight snuck through her windows like in her dream, the only light coming from the small night light plugged into the wall.

She sat with her head in her hands as she came down, willing the nightmare out of her mind. She was so tired, wanting nothing more than to return to sleep and wake up at a real hour, but she knew she couldn't do that yet. If she returned to dream land now, she would have to spend another terrifying time with the faceless man until she woke up like this again.

Her mind was chugging along, running too fast for her slow sense-of-self to keep up. The only clear thought was the same one she had during her dream:

Where's Harry?

That feeling she had as a little girl when she would wake up from a nightmare and just wanted someone—a nanny, her mother, anyone who might care—to coddle and coax her down returned in that moment. She wanted Harry.

He could protect her, she knew that. He'd said he cared about her. He always told her to grab him if she needed him, no matter what it was that was setting her. He'd be there for her, he promised.

It was on those juvenile instincts that (Y/N) climbed out of bed and padded towards the living room. She sniffled as she opened her creaky door, peering out to find Harry asleep with the television on, scrunched onto the couch. A loose blanket was draped over his form, a pillow tucked under his head as he slept on his side, his hair a mess of loose curls.

There was a part of her that didn't want to wake him, that already felt a bit guilty over the idea of pulling him from his sleep when he didn't really have any responsibility to care for her when she was like this. That was why she hesitated for just a moment before crossing the room. She needed him, she thought, remembering the faceless man in her dream that had struck a fear in her that felt something close to primal. Harry always told her to get him if she needed him; he cared about her. He wanted her to be happy, not like she was now with teary eyes and a sniffly nose.

"Harry?" she asked, standing awkwardly off to the side of the couch, still a tad nervous over waking him at such a rough hour. When he didn't stir, she tried again, raising her voice just a hair.

At that, Harry startled awake, his eyes fluttering open in urgent blinks. When his gaze focused around the room, he took her in with her watery eyes and unsure stance before him.

"(Y/N)? What's wrong?" he grumbled, forcing himself awake through bleary eyes.

At his question, (Y/N) felt a bit silly. He most likely imagined something serious, like a new letter, someone having found the cottage, anything of real danger, when in reality she just had a bad dream and didn't want to be alone.

"Are you okay?" he pressed, urgent now that she wasn't answering him. He moved to get off the couch before she stopped him, panicking some.

"Yes, yes, I'm okay, sorry," she rushed out, flustered, "I just... I had a bad dream and..."

She didn't finish her thought, rolling her lips between her teeth instead.

Though she wasn't sure he was entirely awake still, Harry didn't hesitate before he was settling back into the couch and scooting back as far as he could before opening up the blanket. "C'mere."

(Y/N) stood still, eyes following the cave he'd made with the blanket draped over his arm to welcome her in.

"'S okay, (Y/N)," Harry murmured, patting his free hand on the space beside him, "C'mere."

Her heart jumped in her throat as she gave into his direction. While this had been what she had asked for—hoped for—she didn't really think about the reality of getting just that.

With the way Harry had crammed himself against the back of the couch, there was just enough space for her to slip in beside him, her arms bundled between them. There was no part of them that wasn't touching, the warmth of shared body heating intensifying when Harry laid his arm around her waist, blanket fluttering down. He helped her settle into him, his ankle hooking around hers, hand flat on her back to keep her steady on the sliver of cushion, and his other arm laid out with his bicep as her pillow. He curled her into him, becoming that furled rose once more, the protector of his worried bumblebee.

He placed a hand on the back of her head, tucking her under his chin with her forehead resting on his throat. (Y/N) breathed into the hold, melting against him and welcoming the cage of his arms.

Now, nothing could get her.

"What happened, sweet girl? Your dream really this bad?" he murmured, voice giving away the fact that he was clearly much closer to sleep than he was giving off.

(Y/N) snuggled closer to him, enjoying the way she could feel his voice in his chest as much as she heard it with her ears. She nodded against him. "It scared me," she sniffled, "I don't want to go back to sleep in case it starts again."

His hand on her back moved in a soothing circuit, fingers spread out wide. "What happened?"

The details of the dream were still too sharp for comfort, none of that fuzziness that usually followed after waking. "It was the stalker," she told him, aware of the way Harry's arms locked around her that much tighter, "I don't know how I knew it was them, but it was. He found the cottage while we were sleeping and he did something to you I think. Then he came into my room and I woke up when he started choking me."

Harry nosed at the top of her head, a frown apparent on his lips. "(Y/N)," he crooned, "That's terrible. Were y'thinking about them a lot today?"

"I don't think so," she answered, voice small. "I don't know why I had a dream like that."

"'S alright," he soothed, voice fanning through her hair, "'M happy y'came and got me—I don't want you to deal with this stuff by yourself."

(Y/N) allowed her eyes to flutter closed as she laid in his arms. It was nice knowing he wasn't upset with her after she scared him awake.

"Y'don't want to fall asleep again?" he asked after a moment, scratching his nails gently over her back, her t-shirt softening his touch that much more.

"Not yet," she shook her head. It was all still too fresh. If she fell asleep again, would she see that faceless man again? Would he chase her through the cottage this time? Force her to see whatever he'd done to get Harry out of the way. "Definitely, not yet," she repeated, her voice thick over the reminder of her fear.

"Okay, okay," he crooned, "We won't go back to sleep, yet then. We'll stay up and talk a little, instead. Do you think that'll help?"

"Yes, please."

Petting his fingers through her hair, Harry sighed. "Good, good," he murmured, the sleep still thick in his voice. Nonetheless, that didn't keep him from saying, "I don't think you've ever told me how you met Francesca."

The abrupt change in topic was perfect for what (Y/N) needed, pushing her mind in the complete opposite direction of what had transpired in her dreams.

"I met her at private school, when I was, like, thirteen," she shared, fondly looking back on the days of her youth with her best friend. "We met on orientation day, moving into the same dorm."

"Dorm?"

"Yeah," (Y/N) confirmed, "It was also a kind of boarding school my father picked for me after he and my mom filed for divorce. But, anyway, we were in adjoined rooms, sharing a kitchen. I was definitely shyer than her, but after we found out we had almost the exact same classes, we started hanging out in the kitchen and doing our homework together all the time. She's been my best friend ever since.

"We did pretty much everything together when we were younger. I spent a lot of summers with her, and her mom invited me to go on trips during the holidays with them." She thought back to the amount of time she spent at Francesca's when her parents were dealing with their divorce, fighting over the prenuptial agreement and who got what assets. Those summer-long sleepovers were some of her favorite memories. "Did you know that she had a bodyguard when we were sixteen?"

"She did?" Harry mused, his fingers still working through her hair.

"Mhm," she hummed, "His name was Barry. During the school year, photographers started showing up at our school trying to get pictures when we were outside for gym class, or lunch, or whatever they could catch of us. I remember Fran telling her mom how much it scared her because they would yell at us or say whatever they could to get us to react. The school was able to get them off the property after a while, but when we were out for the summer, her mom hired Barry to look out for us so that didn't happen again."

"You were sixteen when this started?" Harry pressed, his voice decidedly tender, carefully breaching the subject.

"Yeah. But it only got really bad after I turned eighteen," she shared, thinking back to the way paparazzi changed when she became of age. Rules no longer seemed to apply when it came to how close they came to her or how rowdy they got in order to get a reaction. That didn't matter though, she reminded herself. It was too long ago to care about, anymore. "Barry was really nice, though. He didn't talk a lot when I was around, but Fran really liked him."

She was sure Harry wasn't impressed with the backstory of her tabloid fame, resenting the age of which her entire life changed. She couldn't blame him. Nonetheless, he stayed composed with only a deep breath inflating his chest, his hold on her staying strong.

"That's good, 'm happy he was good to you," he told her, his hand rubbing her back, "I didn't know that y'knew Francesca for so long. She's a good friend to you, isn't she?"

"The best," (Y/N) answered, smiling against Harry's throat, "I love Emma, Toriana, and Kita, and all, but Fran's been there through everything. Her and Sully are the only reasons I haven't actually lost my mind the way everyone thinks I have."

"Sully's good to you, too, isn't he?" Harry started, steering her to more happy thoughts, "You're close with his family aren't you?"

"A little, yeah. I've met his wife a few times, and I give his daughter a lot of clothes and everything."

"You gave her a prom dress, right?"

"I did, yeah." (Y/N) smiled. She still needed to get pictures from Sully of her in the Dior gown she passed on. "She's so sweet. She goes to a private school upstate, and Sully told me one time that she felt like she didn't fit in because all of the other girls had all these fancy clothes, so I started buying a bunch of stuff I hope she liked and then told him I was giving them away so she could have them if she wanted. From what I hear, she absolutely loves them."

"You did that with her prom dress?"

As much as (Y/N) tried to fight it, Harry's lulling questions were so soothing to her. The rumble of his chest and the soft way he handled her, petting her hair and rubbing her back, she was getting more and more sleepy as they went, her lips looser and stories more and more personal.

It was easy to share with him like this.

"No, her prom dress was one of my favorite Diors I had when I was sixteen. I only wore it for one night for a school event, then never again. I loved it, so I figured she would love it too."

"That's very kind of you, (Y/N)," he told her after a beat, the praise being spoken against her hair with the tip of his nose skimming her scalp. "I'm sure she really appreciates it."

"I hope so—it was vintage," (Y/N) laughed, feeling Harry smile against her hair. Her hands that were bundled between their chests twisted until she was fisting his shirt in her hands, the planes of his chest smooth under the fabric. "Who else do you want to know about?"

"I'll listen to anything y'want to tell me," he crooned, unashamed over being caught in his pointed game of misdirection and distracted. "As long as you're not too tired, 'm here to listen."

If she was being honest, (Y/N) knew she could go back to sleep and slip into a new dream no problem at this point. She barely remembered her nightmare, the only details she could recall being ones that she had shared out loud with Harry. Everything else was a fuzzy blur.

But, she didn't want to sleep yet.

She was telling him things she hadn't really told anyone, for no other reason than there was no one there to listen. She couldn't really share to Sully and Fran the retelling of her favorite memories with them, or how much she loved them without crying. Harry was the first person to genuinely ask her these things and care about what she had to say. It was a comforting thought; that she wasn't alone.

She wanted to tell him everything. She wanted him to know exactly who she was.

Starting with the reason they even know each other in the first place, she decided.

"That whole thing with Damien Moore didn't happen the way the magazines said," she started, unsure of where exactly she was starting this story, but knowing she wanted to share it. "He's the son of one of my father's investors, and even though he's a few years younger than me, our dads always wanted us to be together for some reason. I only really met him a couple of years ago, and he seemed way more okay with the idea of being set up than I was, but I couldn't reject him or anything because he'd tell my father.

"I started seeing him more earlier this year, but nothing ever happened, of course. But, with the pictures and all, his dad had made us reservations at this restaurant but I told Damien I wouldn't be able to stay long because I was meeting Fran later to go out in the Upper West Side." (Y/N) wanted to roll her eyes at the memory of Damien's reaction, not regretting a single thing about the way she handled him. "He got really upset then, saying I would embarrass him if I left and he started saying terrible things about Fran—like, how I shouldn't be friends with a slut like her, and she was tainting my reputation, and I shouldn't be friends with someone like her since I was better than that. Just stupid stuff. Obviously, I got mad and that was why I threw my drink on him."

(Y/N) paused. "I'd do it again, too."

A breathy laugh fanned across the top of (Y/N)'s head, Harry's smile apparent through the strands of hair he nosed at.

"I don't blame you," he murmured, "I'd do the same thing." He held her closely then, mulling over the silence that filled the room, the only light coming from the flashing television with whatever French program he had tuned into. "You're a good person, (Y/N)," he crooned, pressing a hard kiss to the top of her head, ensuring she felt it even as she teetered closer to sleep, "'M happy I got a chance to know you."

Snuggling closer to him, (Y/N) couldn't help her own quiet smile from plucking at her lips. She pressed a small kiss to the column of his throat, reveling in the warmth.

"Thank you for wanting to know me."

—————

Adjusting the clip in her hair, (Y/N) paused where she stood in the back garden of the cottage. The sun had been shining brightly since it broke over the horizon, only small puffs of clouds drifting through the blue sky. It had been her idea to prance through the space, taking advantage of the sunshine and celebrate the fact that they'd been able to evade prying eyes for so long.

And, she wanted Harry to pick some vegetables to be used for dinner tonight.

With him on his hands and knees, grabbing vegetables and tending to the garden as best he could, (Y/N) was free to play around and enjoy the space around the cottage. While she knew it was in her best interest, not being able to really leave the place at all in hopes of avoiding anyone catching sight of her or posting about her online had made her stir crazy. Any time she could spend outside with Harry was time she savored.

Brushing baby hairs out of her face, she smiled as she took in the sprawling wild roses that sprung up around the backside of the cottage, growing past the bordering lavender. It reminded her of the small hedge maze at the country club back home, though the blooms were much freer and untamed. The toes of her white sneakers were now dirtied as she traipsed around the blooms, her skin warmed and sparkling with a sheen of sweat.

A butterfly with gorgeous purple and orange designs spanning across her wings floated through the garden, (Y/N)'s attention stolen by the creature. She'd never seen anything like it back home. She didn't even know butterflies could be purple outside of nail art photos she found on Pinterest.

Flapping its wings, it came close to landing around (Y/N), not even scaring when she reached a hand out as if she could coax it into settling on her finger. It was a bit silly, the way she had the urge to chase it, but she couldn't really find it in her to care about looking juvenile.

When the butterfly finally did land on a thick green leaf, (Y/N) paused, slowing her steps before lunging out with her hands cupped into a makeshift net. She wasn't sure what she would do with it if she managed to catch it, but she at least wanted to touch it, pretend to be a princess for a moment with a little companion.

It came as no surprise when the butterfly flapped away before she came too close, though (Y/N) was suddenly determined to make a new friend. She didn't stop with her lunge, instead giving into that urge to chase and following after the insect. She had her eyes in the sky, watching as the sun shimmered over the purple glazed wings, showing off the intricate patterns nature had given the butterfly.

Reaching her hands up, (Y/N) thought she had bounded around the edge of the wild roses, but learned the hard way that she definitely hadn't.

With only a small linen skirt covering the top half of her thighs, her bare legs were left to the punishment of the thorny rose bushes. The sting of the barbs only came after she had sunk a few steps deep into the bushes, the pain registering after a lag. She yelped at the feeling, her shoelaces even growing stuck amongst the spiny greenery.

She froze in place, unsure of how to make it out of this mess without further injuring her legs.

In an instant, after most likely hearing the cry she gave out, Harry was rounding the side of the cottage, brows furrowed and jaw tensed.

"(Y/N)," he sighed, deflating a bit when he realized what exactly she had gotten herself stuck in, "What happened, sweet girl?"

He stepped towards her, his own arms sparkling with sweat and hands dirty from digging through the garden. Though he had a small hair clip fastened to the edge of his shirt, he left his curls to run wild, a few loose ones falling over his forehead. His skin looked especially tan under the sun, freckles dotting his skin with his tattoos deep and dark across his muscles.

"I was chasing her," she explained, feeling a bit silly now that she had to say it out loud as he pointed at the shimmering butterfly flying high in the sky.

"Yeah?" Harry laughed, his pink lips stretching into a smile, "And that got y'stuck in the roses?"

"I thought I could catch her," (Y/N) offered, looking down towards her legs, "But, now I think I'm bleeding."

Just then, it seemed to register to Harry that the flowers she got herself wrapped up in her roses, complete with thorns.

"Shit," he murmured, reaching a dirt smudged hand out to her, "I didn't even realize, (Y/N), 'm sorry. C'mere."

Taking his hand, she braced herself for the feeling of more paper-cut like slices being made over her legs. She hissed as she tried to step out of the bush, Harry's grip on her hand steadying.

"'M sorry, 'm sorry, 'm sorry," he recited as her face twisted at the feel of the thorns scratching at her legs, catching on her skirt and tennis shoes.

"It's okay," she assured him, stepping both feet onto the solid grass with a rough kick of her foot to dislodge it from the thorns.

Harry steadied her with his hands on her biceps, standing far enough away that he could assess the damage on her legs. Looking down, (Y/N) saw the tiny scratches littering her legs. Some were nothing more than a raised red line, the skin unbroken, while others were deep with blood running in small rivers down her skin. There were even small droplets that had marred the hem of her previously creamy white skirt.

"Oh, (Y/N)," Harry crooned, his eyes rounding out as he looked at the mess she'd made, "Let's get y'cleaned up."

Leading her back inside the cottage, they passed the pile of vegetables Harry had to have abandoned in his effort to get to her as soon as possible. While she wanted to feel guilt over distracting him over something so trivial and completely her fault, when she saw the stretch of his shoulders in front of her, arms bare from his sleeveless top, she let those thoughts dissipate. His attention wasn't something she was going to regret catching.

"Is there any kind of band aids here?" Harry mused, taking her through the kitchen with his steps slowing.

"Maybe in my bathroom? I'm not sure—I never really looked." And, she wasn't currently looking either. She'd never seen the small palm tree inked on the back of his arm before. It was cute.

Diligent as ever, Harry led her through to her bedroom. He deposited her on the edge of her bed, mumbling for her to wait right there for him before he was heading towards the bathroom in search of anything to clean her up. With her hands in her lap, one of them with the phantom of Harry's touch warm against her palm, she heard him rifle through the cabinets.

Soon enough, after hearing the sink run and all the cabinets dropping closed at least twice, he emerged with a small navy blue bag, the flap top opened with Harry's scrutinizing eyes going through the contents. "There isn't much," he mused, "but I can get you cleaned up and the worst ones wrapped up."

"Thank you," (Y/N) smiled sheepishly, feeling every bit the child that gave into the urge to chase bugs around the garden, "Sorry."

"Don't be," Harry countered immediately, "I would have chased her too if I hadn't been busy." Kneeling at her feet, he laid the kit at his side, with his now dirt-free fingers pushing through the supplies. He plucked out a roll of individual alcohol wipes, ripping open the first in the pack with a concentrated set in his features. "I didn't even know butterflies could be purple."

"Me neither," (Y/N) chirped, goosebumps rising over her skin at the feel of the cold wipe gliding across. A slight burn lingered after he swiped over her cuts, the pad growing marred with drops of blood. "I thought I had gotten away from the roses before I started after her."

"Jus' gotta be more careful, that's all," he told her, his voice a small mutter as he concentrated. He worked over her calves, getting the small droplets that had worked down her skin and cleaning the barely there grazes. His hands were gentle as he worked over her skin, holding her steady with glances of his skin over hers. Moving up her legs, he slowly parted them as he made his way up towards her thighs where snags now appeared in the fabric of her skirt with crimson spots marring the creamy white.

Harry stopped at the inside of her knees. He looked up at her with hooded eyes, fluttering lashes framing the forest of his irises. (Y/N) was brought back to the day of the 132 Gala, Harry helping her into her shoes, but not before explicitly asking for permission. He handled her much like that day with lingering holds and soft hands, completely unhurried as he steadied her and appraised her like a diamond.

She watched as he ran his tongue over his lips. "Is it alright if I go higher?" he murmured, gaze intense on hers. His hands were stopped on her knees, not going an inch higher.

(Y/N) nodded. "It's okay."

It wasn't until he helped her spread her legs, her skirt tightening across the plush skin, that she realized she might have given the wrong answer. Under her skirt was nothing more than a soft pair of panties, the fabric a shiny blush with a white rosette stitched to the waistband. With the way Harry was going to have to push and prod around the hem of her skirt, wiping at the highest cuts, there was no way he wouldn't notice.

She must not have hidden her nerves well with the way Harry's hand placed just above her knee squeezed the plush of her thigh. He blinked up at her, brows raised. "Y'alright?" he asked, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, "Am I hurting you?"

"No, no," she shook her head, her mind running for an excuse, "I just didn't realize I had some so high up."

Harry frowned at her words, focusing his attention on the graze sliced across the top of her thigh. "I know, I'm sorry, sweet girl. I'll get y'cleaned up quick."

True to his word, Harry resumed his work. Pushing up her skirt that much more, he cleaned the highest of her cuts while his other hand kept her spread legs steady. The pad of his thumb circled the inside of her knee, a distracting touch. That would be perfect, (Y/N) thought, if his touch wasn't the exact thing she needed a distraction from.

"Last one," he murmured, pulling out a clean alcohol wipe as he tackled the biggest of the cuts on her thigh, a swipe of blood marring the soft skin on the inside. This sting was more noticeable than the rest, (Y/N) rolling her lips between her teeth to keep from pouting like a child at the stinging feeling. Once all cleaned, Harry leant forward, pressing a delicate kiss to the skin just below the graze. "There," he declared, "Jus' need to bandage the worst of them, then you're all done."

(Y/N) wanted to be paying attention, truly. She was grateful to Harry tending to her superficial wounds and being so kind, but her brain was too busy running miles away into fantasy land.

He'd kissed her thigh like it was nothing. He kissed her thigh like he didn't know it would get her squirming in her spot, goosebumps to pop over her skin, and her head to get a little foggy. She hadn't forgotten the second time he had kissed her, the way they clung to one another on the couch, her body in his lap and his cock hard under her core. He couldn't just touch her so sweetly, reaching up under her skirt and holding her thighs open without (Y/N) inching closer and closer to losing her mind.

She couldn't remember the last time a man she actually liked had touched her like this, someone who had intentions of staying for longer than a night and who knew her for more than what the tabloids said. Maybe that was why she had to fist her hands in her lap to keep from reaching for him, tensing her thighs to keep from squirming, and averting her gaze from his to keep from pouncing on him.

It only took a moment of rifling through the ill-equipped first aid bag before she felt his hands back on her skin. Tiny bandages had been pulled from the package, a single found pinched between Harry's fingers.

"Gotta stay still for me, (Y/N)," he murmured, concentrating on a cut just above her knee.

"Sorry," she rushed, trying her best to keep from clenching her thighs and squirming in her spot. With the warmth she felt between her legs, this was proving to be a harder task than she anticipated.

When she still couldn't seem to stay still, Harry slipped his free hand underneath her thigh, his palm pressed to the back with his fingertips denting the plush skin. "I don't want to mess up, (Y/N)," he reminded her, voice a tad firm, "Stay still, then I promise I'll be fast."

"I can't!" she blurted out, already regretting the outburst as soon as the air left her lungs.

Harry stopped what he was doing, looking at her with raised brows and wide eyes. His grip on her loosened though his hand stayed right where it was, warmed underneath her thigh.

"Why not?" he gently prodded, concern dripping from his tone.

There was no articulate way to describe what was going through her mind. She wasn't even sure if she wanted to share with him what exactly had brought her to this state, but she wasn't sure if she was really going to have a choice against the unwavering eye contact he was giving her. It was the same way he looked at her when he told her he cared about her, just wanted her happy. How could she deny the truth to eyes like that?

"You," she decided on, zipping her lips as soon as the syllable was out.

Pausing, Harry processed her answer. "Me? Y'can't stay still because of me, but you're also not hurting?"

(Y/N) gave him a short nod.

A pinch appeared between his brows. "I don't think I understand."

How he couldn't understand his effect on her was beyond (Y/N)'s comprehension. He was sitting between her legs on his knees, with her skirt pushed precariously up her thighs and his hands gently caressing swaths of her skin, and he didn't understand? Would she have to pull her skirt up entirely and show off what exactly his touch did to her?

Suddenly, his expression fell the longer (Y/N) stayed quiet. His hand under her thigh wiggled away, cutting contact with her skin.

"(Y/N)," he started, his voice soft and apologetic, "I thought y'promised me you'd always tell me if something was making you uncomfortable."

"No, no, no—that's not it!" she bubbled off, reaching out to take his hand and placing it back on her thigh. "You're not making me uncomfortable at all. I like how you're touching me." Her skin burned as she processed her own panicked words. "I think I like it too much considering you're only cleaning me up after I hurt myself."

Realization seemed to dawn on him then. His gaze dropped to his hand on her thigh, practicing that touch she praised with a flex of his fingers against her skin. She gave way under his grip, soft dents appearing under his fingertips. With all of her scrapes freshened up, he was left with a view of clean skin before him, a canvas for him to paint his hands across.

"Want me to keep touching you?" he asked, voice decidedly lower than she last heard.

She worried her bottom lip between her teeth. She couldn't remember the last time someone made her nervous the way Harry did. How did she say yes without saying yes?

"O-Only if you want to." That was fine enough, she thought.

Harry kept his eyes on his hand as it slowly slid up the expanse of her thigh. "I want to," he cemented, "I think I have an idea of how to make y'feel better. Y'jus' tell me if you change your mind."

(Y/N)'s mouth ran dry at his words, drawing her hands from her lap to lay at her sides as he placed both his hands high up her thighs. With the way he spread her legs before, he was able to easily fit between them. His fingertips disappeared underneath the hem of her skirt, his eyes on her as if awaiting any kind of objection to his touch. When none came, he continued up until she felt him nudge the waistline of her panties.

Her breath caught in her throat, hands fisting the bedding on either side of her.

"This okay?" he murmured.

"Uh-huh."

Hooking his fingertips underneath the band of her underwear, he dragged down the small article over the length of her legs. There was a moment of lag as he tugged, the seat of her panties sticking to her folds. (Y/N) wanted to be mortified when she saw just how sodden the center was, full of her reaction to the most gentle of touches. But, that thought went out of her head when she saw the way Harry gazed at the moisture, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

He helped her shuck the underwear from her legs before he bunched her skirt at her waist, leaving nothing in the way of his view. The warmth of his palms pressed against the inside of her thighs, keeping her legs spread wide open for him. The broad of his shoulders were the perfect wedge he helped her drape her calves over, blinking his eyes up to match her own as if he awaited her objection.

When none came, he pressed a delicate kiss to the inside of her knee. (Y/N)'s hands clenched in the bedding at her sides. The tip of his nose skimmed over her skin in a fleeting pass, following after his lips as he grazed up the inside of her thigh. She could feel her insides twisting at the feel of his breath fanned over her skin, enough to take her own breath away. He had her already and he'd barely touched her in more than a few light grazes and fleeting touches.

Harry dragged his lips up the inside of her thigh, smearing kiss after kiss until he reached the very highest point before her pussy. (Y/N) could feel herself clench just at the fact he was so close. He lingered there, his eyes hooded with his spit-slicked lips parting just enough for his teeth to glance over the soft skin.

"Wh-Why'd you stop?" (Y/N) pressed, her thoughts coming out of her mouth before she had even made the decision to speak.

She could feel him smiling against the sensitive spot, his teeth giving a sharp nip before he pulled away. He looked at her with hooded eyes, fanned lashes and dilated pupils. "Want me to keep going, sweet girl?"

His voice was a rumble against her. Maybe she was imagining it, but she swore she could feel the depth of his voice fanning over her core, wetness dripping down.

With her bottom lip worried between her teeth, she nodded her head. Baby hairs fluttered around her face, the messy updo she did with her clip not holding as well as she needed, though she didn't really find it in herself to care. As long as it didn't take away from her view in front of her, she didn't care about anything else.

The smile he gave her was a lopsided curl she was so familiar with. "I'm gonna make you happy, love," he murmured, hooking his hands underneath her thighs until they fit just under the curve of her ass, "Don't worry."

Dipping his head down, (Y/N) could feel the ghost of his touch settle over her core, his breath fanning over her silken skin. She couldn't take her eyes away, especially not when he placed a tentative kiss just above her slit. She shuddered at the touch, the graze not nearly enough but still eliciting a zip through her spine.

Glancing up at her through his lashes, Harry was spurred on by whatever he saw on her face—whether that be the dazed eyes, the gaped lips, or the warm skin, she wasn't sure. He planted a harder kiss to the same spot, his chin pressed against her folds. He gauged her reaction, squeezing his hands underneath her thighs as he dipped lower over her core.

The first graze of his lips over her clit was enough to have a small hitch hinder (Y/N)'s breath. He didn't do anything more than a quick peck over the bud, but it was enough to have her toes curling in her tennis shoes.

Parting his lips, he took her clit between them, kissing and licking at the peak. She almost crumbled then, feeling her throat run dry while her core grew even wetter. She practically strangled the bedding in her hands, the linen stretching around the length of her nails.

His hands around her thighs clenched, keeping them open as his fingertips dented the plush skin. He snaked his tongue out and laved a stripe up through her folds. (Y/N) fell into stunned silence, nothing leaving her mouth as her lungs were stunted, giving Harry his turn to moan against her folds. He spread her wetness around with his tongue, wet sounds filling the sunshine filled cottage.

Harry no longer had his eyes flitting to her face, his lids fluttering to a close as he sunk himself into the moment with her. Instead, he focused solely on pushing his tongue through her folds, skimming her entrance, and ensuring his face was tucked tight against her center. She could feel the mush of his nose against her clit, his chin growing slick with every wag of his head against her. He kissed and licked and sucked on her pussy, taking everything there was to be offered.

(Y/N)'s breathing came out in heavy pants, lingering and hot, as she could focus on nothing more than his touch and the way he explored her body. Every press of his nose against her clit or sucking kiss he gave to her folds was enough to have her head spinning, her balance shifting as if she were only a second away from falling back onto the mattress. But she couldn't do that, she had to pointedly remind herself, because she wanted to see him. She wanted to see Harry as he worked on her, hair in swirling curls with sunlight pouring through to highlight him in gold. She wanted to see the way his brows furrowed and cheeks hollowed when he sucked on her clit or gave a particularly heavy kiss to her hole. She wanted to see him enjoy her.

His hair was a mess on the top of his head from tending to the garden, anyway, but the way he threw himself between her thighs was enough agitation to have those curls dropping over his forehead. He didn't pay them any mind, instead drawing away just enough to give her a handful of long licks through her folds. (Y/N)'s thighs clenched at the pressure of his heavy tongue over her cunt, heavy wet sounds being compounded by the absent moans Harry let out as he tasted her.

Unraveling her hand from the sheets, (Y/N) racked her nails through his hair, keeping the strands out of his face and out of her view of him. She didn't want to miss a single detail; she didn't want to miss the flush that came to his nose with the tip sodden, the rosy glow that blushed his cheeks, the way he couldn't seem to get enough of her even when she could feel his panting breaths for more air.

At the feel of her hand going through his curls, Harry fluttered his eyes open for the first time since sinking between her thighs. He saw her through dazed eyes. Whatever he gauged from her expression, he must have liked it if his lips curled into a smile, his tongue liking up her slit.

Her feet dangling over his back pressed into his shoulder blades, keeping him close as he started kissing over her clit in harsh presses once more. He was much too proud of himself, she could see, but she couldn't blame him. He had barely started and she was already short of breath, whimpering, and scratching at his hair. Even the bouquet of roses on the bedside table seemed to want a closer look, petals falling from the buds down to the floor at his feet.

"H-Harry," she cried, her grip in his hair tightening when his tongue dared to press against her entrance.

"'M here, sweet girl, 'm here," he mumbled, his voice thick and heady.

He barely had enough time to get his words out before he was prodding at her hole once more. He watched her reaction as he did so, hesitating for only a second when he saw her lashes flutter through her blink. As soon as he had her eyes on him once more, he pushed through, slipping his tongue inside.

Pressing deep, she could feel the length of his tongue against her walls, slick and heavy as he tasted her like wine. His nose was smushed against her clit, nudging and circling with every shift and tilt of his head.

Her brain was jumbled, (Y/N) throwing her head back on instinct. "Oh mon Dieu," she slurred, slipping into French as a reflex.

Harry stuttered in his movements only to let out a loud moan against her, the sound vibrating through her core. He resumed his efforts tenfold when he recovered.

This was enough, (Y/N) thought. The pressure against her clit, the tight hold on her thighs, the way his tongue wriggled inside her pressing and licking one her most sensitive spots. He was taking all of her, touching, worshipping, coveting every bit of her that he could get his hands on.

Her heels dug into his back, thighs unable to close around his head through she did still try. She kept him close, her hole pulsing around his tongue in an effort to keep him near.

"I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum," (Y/N) whimpered, feeling desperate as she teetered the edge.

Harry blinked up at her, eyes dark and vignetted with thick lashes. He didn't ease up at her declaration, continuing to give her more and more.

The final straw came in the form of him shaking his head, his tongue deep inside her with his nose nudging against her clit. (Y/N)'s eyes rolled to the back of her head, her hand in his hair tugging at the roots, and her feet digging into the plains of his back.

Her eyes watered at the intense rush sinking through her form, unable to remember a time she could ever recall feeling this much with anyone. She fought to keep her eyes on him as she came, her stomach tight and unyielding and more wetness seeped around his tongue. Harry took it all in stride, luxuriating in the feel like a devout follower taking whatever their deity would give.

(Y/N) came down in a mess of sparkling skin and rouge hairs, her bottom lashes clumping with the moisture from unshed tears. Her system was shot, fingers cramping as she uncurled them from his hair.

Harry took his time to separate from her, dragging his tongue through her sodden folds with his own wet face glimmering in the light. (Y/N) jumped at the overstimulation that came from his absent lick, Harry huffing out a small laugh at her reaction. He backed away just enough, looking at the mess he made on her with her cum and his saliva having been spread over her lips and towards the inside of her thighs. His own breathing was heavy as he took her all in, eyes distant and dark.

"Harry?" (Y/N) murmured, her voice small and shaky as she found her footing in the real world.

Brought back to reality, he blinked up at her, that bleary film clearing from his gaze. He took her in wit his expression going smug. "Yeah? Y'alright?"

She bit back a smile as she brought her hand back through his hair, only to push him away. "You're the worst," she laughed, not meaning a single word of what she said. "Come here."

Using the hem of his shirt, Harry wiped his face as he stood to the full of his height. (Y/N)'s shaky legs stayed wide open for him, even as he adjusted her skirt to fall over her thighs. The open space allowed him to plant himself atop her as he pushed her to lay flat on her back with his hands on either side of her head, palms flat and pressing into the mattress. He hovered above her, his gaze clearing despite the fact she could feel his own arousal pressing against her hip. He was observing her again, taking in each of her features and the minute expression and twitches muscle gave.

"Really, this time," he started, voice a quiet secret between the two of them, "Are y'alright? I made you happy?"

Looping her arms around his neck, (Y/N) didn't try to hide the smile that crossed her features and squinted her eyes. "You did," she beamed, "Really happy."

"Good," he settled, using one of his hands to cup her cheek before leaning down and pressing an affectionate kiss to her lips.

He lingered there, resting his forehead against hers as he slipped his fingertips into the soft strands at her hairline. He basked in the afterglow with her, remaining until (Y/N) no longer heard the sound of her heartbeat in her ears.

"'M gonna clean you up, okay?" he said, planting one more kiss on the bridge of her nose before he started backing away from her.

"Wait," (Y/N) bubbled before he could make it too far away.

Stopping where he stood, he looked to her with raised brows. (Y/N) felt his eyes on her as she reached for one of the short-stemmed roses that had been sitting on the bedside table, the bloom ripe and full. The greenery was clear of all thorns, making it perfect for the job she had in mind.

With Harry just close enough, she was able to reach and place the rose behind his ear, nestling it amongst the curls. The petals caressed his temple, velveteen soft and deep red against his tanned skin.

Harry gave her a soft-lipped smile.

"That's what y'needed to stop me for?" he asked, bringing his hand up to brush his fingers over the petals.

"I've always wanted to do that," she smiled, gazing affectionately up at him.

Harry only shook his head with a fond smile on his lips, dimples and all. He kept the rose in his hair for the rest of the day.

—————

(Y/N) swore she could feel her blood running ice cold as she looked at the photo laying on the coffee table.

She was still dressed in her pajamas, breakfast nothing more than prepped ingredients on the kitchen counter. The time hadn't even blinked passed nine-thirty.

Harry was already sweeping through the space, his phone pressed to his ear as he argued with whoever was on the other line. (Y/N) thought it was her father, but she couldn't remember. Harry had said something about arranging a way to fly back to New York as soon as possible, but she hadn't heard a single syllable of the details.

She couldn't think about anything other than the photo in front of her.

Having been taken through a window, in perfect detail, was a photo of Harry laying atop (Y/N) with his lips sealed against hers. She was laid under him in her linen skirt, hair a mess, with her eyes closed in gentle bliss. Harry's sleeveless shirt showed all of his muscles, including the sheen of sweat that had collected over his skin.

The photo had to have been taken days ago, right after Harry had been on his knees between her legs. The worst of her fear came from the fact that she couldn't rule out the possibility that whoever had taken this also had photos of what happened just before this kiss.

Slashed across the top in stark red ink was a declaration labeling (Y/N) a BITCH.

The whole thing was unhinged and terrifying.

Neither of them noticed anyone outside, and there was no telling just how long they'd been found out.

She wanted to cry the longer she looked at it.

This person took a special moment from her, shrouded it in something evil and degrading.

Harry paced about the cottage, her duffle bag in hand as he repacked everything in sight. His features were severe as he spoke in rushed commands, his voice having no give compared to the way he spoke to her.

"I do not care," he muttered, "She's not staying here. We're coming back to the city now, and you're going to help us."

With that, he hung up the call. He didn't slow down as he bundled each of her belongings into her bags, his own already stashed away.

"Harry?" (Y/N) whispered, her voice just a note away from breaking.

"Yes?" he asserted, zipping up her bag without looking at her.

(Y/N) didn't know what to say, she just wanted him. She was scared, her lip quivering as tears pricked her eyes. She didn't want to look at the photo anymore, didn't want to analyze what someone could be thinking to the degree that made them think that this was okay.

He finally slowed when she didn't answer him. He took in a deep breath before looking at her, eyes softening the second he took in her appearance.

"(Y/N)," he sighed, crossing the room in large strides until he was lowering to one knee. "'S going to be alright, okay? I promise you." Harry took her hands in his, his grip tight and absolute.

Her fingers were stiff as she reciprocated his hold, trying her best to keep from shaking. "Why would someone do this?" she cried to him, eyes burning with tears, "Th-That picture—We—"

"I know, I know," he soothed her, his thumbs running circles over the backs of her hands. She could tell he was putting exponential amounts of effort into keeping his cool. "We're going home today, okay? Then we're going to do something about this. I don't know how, but we're going to make this stop, okay? No one's going to keep doing this to you."

Tears fled down her cheeks then. She shook her head, her expression crumpling. "Th-They did it to you, too," (Y/N) sobbed, "They're taking stuff from you now, too."

Harry didn't hesitate to bundle her against his chest, taking her form where she was sitting on the couch and into his arms. She cried into his neck, mourning the privacy she had curated with him and the fact that she couldn't protect him nearly as well as he could for her. It was scary enough to have someone taking terribly personal pictures of her, but it was now her fault that she had dragged Harry in, with no way out.

If that person had photos of them in the middle of the act, Harry's life could be ruined. Her stalker was obviously angry enough at the both of them now to do something worse than just following her around and invading privacy.

"Don't worry about me," he crooned to her, nosing at the top of her head, "'M going to be okay, 'm only worried about you."

"B-But—"

"Don't," he stopped her, his voice firm with his ever-soft hold, "'M going to be okay, (Y/N). You are the only person that can be hurt in this, and 'm not going to let that happen. But, we have to go, okay?"

He pulled away just enough to look at her, cry-swollen eyes and tear-stained cheeks. Her view of him was blurry and refracted. She clung to him even harder.

"I don't want to be here anymore," she breathed, trying to clear her gaze against the mounting tears.

Harry dipped his head down and pressed a harsh kiss to her cheek, nose skimming her skin. "I've got you, sweet girl," he promised, "'M going to take you home and we'll make you safe."

(Y/N) clung to him, ignoring everything else in the room. She knew there was a photo degrading her, her father angry on the other side of the world, and a cottage that she really hoped she could still look on fondly after this.

"I've got you, (Y/N)."

And, she believed him.

—————

The flight back to New York had been a tearful one, but since touching down on the tarmac, Harry hadn't left (Y/N)'s side for anything. He had taken up residence in her apartment, sleeping at her side when either of them managed to find the peace to do as much. He cooked with her, supported her, and calmed her in the night now that there was a real threat lingering around them.

Harry had been shocked to see the amount of letters she had been hoarding, majority without the seal having been even picked at. There was only a thin amount of composure that kept him together when he leafed through the pages, glossy photos that even (Y/N) hadn't peeked at hinging his jaw tighter with each picture. The letters were the worst. Harry had to lock himself in the guest room as he read them, unwilling to share his reaction to the disgusting things this person dared to type out about her, only coming out when he had calmed and was able to think rationally.

"We have to do something—there has to be something we can do with these. There's so many," he had told her after, his shoulders tightly set with his arms heavy across his chest.

(Y/N) had sat across from him, hands pathetically limp in her lap.

"I don't know if there's much we can do," she had murmured, her brows knitted into a worried stitch, "I looked into it once. Since I don't know who's sending them and they've never tried to hurt me, there's not a lot that anyone will do."

She remembered the way his hands had formed into fists under his arms, as she spoke, heavy and white-knuckled. His knee bounced as his unfocused eyes blinked off in the distance.

"We can file something at least, right?"

(Y/N) gave a small nod, remembering the limited options she had researched way back in the beginning. "A police report. It won't do much, but it stays on record in case something more... serious happens."

His jaw seemingly hinged tighter at her quiet words.

"Then that's what we're going to do," he decided. The gears in his head kept turning, an absent nod bobbing Harry's head. "Reports like that are public," he mused, a plan coming together as he spoke aloud, "Someone will pick up on it, some magazine or whoever will post about it—they love stuff like this. That might be enough to scare this person off, knowing you're doing something about it now."

Rolling her lips between her teeth, (Y/N) found herself stuck on the word public. "Will the pictures be out there, too?"

Flashing his gaze up to her, he matched her eyes intensely. He knew what photos she had in mind.

"No. I'll make sure they're not."

She didn't doubt that Harry would keep his word. When he was cemented in an idea, he was too stubborn to let up.

"You think this will scare them?"

"I can't be sure," he admitted, "But, I think it's something. Obviously, ignoring them isn't working, so maybe letting them know that you're not going to let it happen anymore will make them reconsider."

While she felt more comfortable ignoring this person—this problem—, she knew he was right. Despite not feeding into whatever delusion they had, it wasn't enough to make them move on. There had to be some kind of pushback.

Slowly nodding her head, (Y/N) let go of her lingering hesitations. "Okay," she breathed, "How do we do this?"

Harry rolled his neck. "I think we need every bit of evidence we have, and we take it to someone who can help. From there, they'll tell us what we can do, 'm sure."

"Okay," she repeated, "I have more letters at my father's house."

"Yeah? Where?"

(Y/N) shrugged. "Somewhere in my bedroom. We should probably get those too, right?"

"Probably," Harry agreed, though she was sure he was just as hesitant as she about running into her father.

Even though he was well aware of the fact she was back in the city considering the jet had been chartered to get her home, her father hadn't reached out to her at all. She didn't remember exactly what had been going on between he and Harry when they were on the phone together back at the cottage, only vaguely remembering the way Harry had shouted at him and hung up. He knew she was back here, knew that something severe enough happened that she had to flee Paris, but not even a text had been sent.

He didn't even care enough to be angry at her.

"But, we'll go together, okay?" Harry had murmured to her, taking her out of her head. (Y/N) remembered the way he leant across the dining table to reach out for her, cupping her cheek and running his thumb along the height of her cheekbone. "I'll be there. We won't even talk to him, if you don't want to."

"I don't want to," (Y/N) answered immediately.

Harry breathed out a laugh at her automatic response.

"That's what we'll do."

It was days later that they ended up at the front door of her father's mansion. Sully was going to be waiting in the drive, car running, promising that as soon as (Y/N) was ready to leave, there would be no lag on his end. Harry was at her side, his hand clasped in hers while she shakily input the door code to twist the locks.

Her father was given no heads up to her visit, hoping he would be out for the afternoon anyway. She worried if he knew that she was coming to snoop for more letters that he would do something with them, or somehow convince her that going through with Harry's plan was the wrong thing to do. She didn't want to risk either outcome, instead barging through the mansion with her heels clacking over the marble floor up to her room.

Harry was her silent pillar of support, following after her the whole way. He stood back and watched as she took them to her teenage bedroom, unearthing the hidden compartment under her bed that her friends used to use to hide alcohol. Instead of tiny bottles of liquor, under the floorboard were now letters addressed to her with no return label. These were the few she had ever read before she retired the act, their seals broken with photos (Y/N) remembered as if she had seen them only yesterday.

There were only a handful that were here before they started showing at her apartment, whoever had been stalking her finally realizing that she didn't live with her father like they had assumed.

"Okay," (Y/N) started, fishing out the last of the envelopes, "I think that's all of the—"

"What are you doing?!"

That was her father's voice that boomed through the room, causing (Y/N) to jump where she was kneeling on the floor.

Turning to face him, her heart in her throat, she saw Harry had sprung into action, stepping between the two of them as her shield.

"We were jus' about to leave," Harry said, voice resolute and unwavering, "Right, (Y/N)?"

That was her cue to collect her things and scurry away before her father could get any more involved.

"Right," she peeped, grabbing her purse and the letters before standing to her feet.

She didn't dare look at her father as she came to stand at Harry's side, allowing him to take the lead and get her out of here before her father's next words had her panicking in her tracks.

"Are those the letters?"

She had hoped he hadn't seen them.

"Ignore him," Harry whispered to her, tossing an arm over her shoulder as they brushed past him and out of her bedroom.

"(Y/N)! Do not ignore me, are those the letters I told you to forget about?! Why are you taking them?!" Her father chased after them, his anger rising the longer he garnered no reaction. "What are you doing with them?! You can't take them from my house!"

Despite it being his very own advice he was going against, Harry couldn't seem to stand by any longer when it came to the way her father treated her. Reaching the landing of the staircase, Harry turned to face her father head-on as he followed, going toe-to-toe with him. Her father stumbled back.

"We're actually going to do something about it," Harry grumbled back, his words biting and sharp, "They're hers, and we're taking them. We'll make sure to mention that you insisted that she never share them either—maybe add you in for some kind of coverup if it comes to it."

Though she could see her father trying to stay hardened, keep from showing Harry that anything he said was getting to him, but she saw the signs. Color leached from his face, his lips thinning just enough. His fingers twitched.

"You don't need to report this, (Y/N)," he called, switching tactics and speaking around Harry. "I don't know what he's been telling you, but you don't need to worry about this. You're going to regret overreacting like this."

She could see Harry gearing up for a grating response, but she beat him to it.

"No, I'm not," she cemented, her voice nowhere near as concrete as Harry's no matter how hard she tried, "Th-This isn't some fan, or admirer, or whatever you called it before. This person is stalking me, and taking private pictures of me, and saying terrible things. I want this to stop, I don't care if you don't like it.'

Her father gritted his teeth where he stood behind the barricade that was Harry. A beat passed before he eyed both she and her bodyguard—a man on his payroll. "Come to my office."

He turned swiftly, leaving them behind as he scaled the stairs. Harry turned to her with a neutral expression, thinly veiling the chattering anger the interaction had left in him. "We don't have to," he reminded her, "We can leave now."

While the smartest part of her knew Harry was presenting her with the best choice, to take the letters and leave while he was stupid enough to turn his back on them, there was another part of her that was intrigued by his reaction. Her father was a calculating man when it came to everything but her. With his daughter, he was always reactionary before rational. The invitation to his office was something that her curiosity urged her not to ignore.

There was no way he had any real part in this, right? Harry threatening to add him into the conspiracy was nothing more than a rage-fueled bluff, so why did he seem so rattled by the idea?

"I-I think we need to see what he has to say," (Y/N) murmured.

"You're sure?" Harry pressed, face staying neutral.

She swallowed. "No, but I feel like I have to know what he wants to say."

Harry rolled his lips between his teeth before giving her a curt nod. "Okay," he told her, reaching his hand out for hers, "I trust you—if you think we need to hear this, then we'll go. But, if things change, 'm taking you out right away."

(Y/N) didn't hesitate to agree to the conditions, taking his hand. There was a huge chance she was wrong about this, that this was nothing more than the little girl inside of her pining for her daddy's affection and hoped that doing what he asked would earn her just that. She needed Harry to be there to take the lead if things went south.

The trail to his office seemed longer than ever. The door was left wide pen with her father already seated at his desk, hands clasped and eyes calculating and cold. She took a seat across from him while Harry stayed on his feet at her side.

"What do I have to give you to leave those letters behind and do nothing with the others I know you have?" her father opened, his voice detached.

"What?" she deadpanned in response, her grip tightening on the letters.

"What do you want?" he pressed once more, enunciating every word as if that was the problem with this situation, "If you leave the letters here, and don't make any kind of report or talk to any press, I will give you whatever you want. Name your price."

Silence filled the room like a heavy blanket, (Y/N) just barely able to keep her mouth from falling open in shock.

"Are you kidding me? Are you actually joking right now, or are you seriously asking me this?" That complete detachment she had felt for years had thinned, allowing every bit of bubbling rage she had kept siphoned away to rise to the surface.

"(Y/N)," he snapped, "Now is not the time for an attitude. I want to know what it will take to get you to stop obsessing ove—"

"I'm obsessed? Me? You have to be fucking joking." She almost wanted to laugh. This was a terrible comedy, too dark for her liking. "I have someone following me around, taking pictures of me all the time—even when my boyfriend is going down on me. You can't think for a single second about anything other than yourself and how you look to your idiot country club friends and investors. But, I'm the one that's obsessed? Because I'm tired of being taken advantage of? Because I feel like I deserve privacy and the opportunity to think for myself?"

It was satisfying watching the way he flinched at her words, most notably so when she spat out the fact that there were photos of her in a compromising position with Harry. At her side, Harry's hands were clenched into fists.

"You don't understand," he pushed once recovering, "Let it go, (Y/N)."

"No!" she shouted, feeling her skin heat, "I'm not letting this go!" She was tired of him condescending her and thinking for her despite the fact she was a grown woman who never even depended on him as a child.

Her father visibly began to boil over, his jaw clenching and nose flaring as he looked at her. "(Y/N)," he hissed, "You need to think. There are people who will be very upset if you keep pursuing this, a—"

"That's really what this is all about?! You're protecting your image? Over me?! You're a fucking coward, I—"

Her father slammed his fist into the top of his desk, the sound reverberating through the room before he shouted: "That's not what this is about, (Y/N)! I could lose a lot if you report Damien, an—"

"Damien?" (Y/N) blanched. From the corner of her eye, she could see Harry's patience thinning. This conversation had flown south enough that he could pull her at any second. But, she couldn't leave now, not when her father brought up Damien Moore out of thin air. "What do you mean if I report Damien?"

The outburst seemed to catch up with him then, his breathing going heavy with his eyes wide. "I misspoke," he tried to recover, suddenly backtracking, "I didn't mean to say his name—"

"Yes, you did," While her father was an idiot, he was very calculating when it came to his thought process. He never did things by accident. "Why did you bring up Damien?"

Everyone knew the answer to her question. She just wanted to hear him say it.

"(Y/N)," he started, his eyes closing with his jaw rotating.

"You knew it was him this whole time?" she pressed, her voice decidedly smaller than the shouting from before. "You've been covering for him. That's why you never wanted me to say anything."

Her father didn't say a word, not even a blink in her direction.

The longer (Y/N) looked at him the less and less he looked like the man that she used to follow around in hopes of catching his attention. He didn't look like the man she idolized when she was a child. She didn't recognize him anymore.

"You left me scared for years all so you could keep his dad's money," she continued, the gravity of the situation sinking into her bones. Her eyes burned as she looked at him. "I hate you."

That seemed to snap her father back into reality, his eyes sharp when he matched hers. "Watch your mouth," he spat, standing from behind his desk, "You do not get to disrespect me in my home, you litt—"

Harry stepped in immediately. He effectively cut her father's view of her, his hand harshly landing on the older man's shoulder before pushing him to sit back down once more.

"Sit," Harry commanded as if speaking to a dog.

Her father flustered at the interference, taken aback that anyone would have the audacity to do anything to keep him from degrading her.

"I don't know who you think you are, but sleeping with my daughter doesn't me—"

"You don't get to talk to him," (Y/N) shot off, cutting off her father.

More than anything, he couldn't seem to wrap his head around the fact that either of them were daring to talk back to him, to stop him in his tracks.

"I could ruin you, you know," (Y/N) started, gaining the full of her father's attention, "I have more on you than anyone else—I could go to the press and you would be over."

"No one would believe you."

"Maybe not, but people love a story. The crazier the better, right? It would be everywhere." (Y/N) steeled her grip on the letters. "I could end you and Damien so fast. You would have nothing."

She watched the way her father seemed to realize the fact that he truly held no power in any of this. (Y/N) had all the cards and he was going to bend to her will, whether he liked it or not.

"What do you want, then? My offer still stands: leave the letters and keep your mouth shut, and whatever you want is yours."

"I don't want anything from you. I just want this to stop, I want him to stop taking pictures of me—or hiring people to, or whatever it is that he does."

"I can do that," was her father's swift response, "I'll make it all stop. You have to leave the letters and promise that you won't say a single word to anyone."

"We're not promising anything," Harry piped up, taking the words out of his (Y/N)'s mouth. She wasn't in the mood to compromise for anything.

Her father's anger peeked out once more then. "Why should I do anything for you, then?"

"Because I said so."

That had his steely gaze shifting to land on her, hard and unforgiving.

That was exactly the same thing that he used to tell (Y/N) when she would question him. She was the one giving orders now and there was no room left to argue. He would listen because she said so, and there was no other option she was going to accept.

The standoff between them continued with unwavering eye contact until her father glanced at the letters in her hand. He crumbled then. She held everything this time.

"Fine," he spat. "I trust that you're going to do the right thing, (Y/N). Just as I am."

"Right," she settled, unwilling to give any more energy to this man.

She stood from her seat, gently placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. His eyes were still blazing when they met hers.

"Let's go," she told him.

That was all it took for Harry to disconnect himself from the interaction, taking his hand in hers and following her lead out of the office.

No words were shared or glances cast backwards as they made their way out of the mansion (Y/N) used to live in. Outside, Sully waited just as he promised he would.

Harry opened the backdoor for her, helping her slide in first before he followed closely behind.

"Back to your apartment, Ms. (Y/N)?" Sully asked, already pulling out of the driveway.

"Yes, please," Harry answered for her, helping her buckle into her seat before silence rained down in the cab.

Until (Y/N) started sobbing.

One moment she was running on adrenaline and disbelief and anger, the next she was crumbling in her seat with tears pouring down her cheeks and her hands shaking. The letters fell into a mess on the floor, but she couldn't care at that moment.

All she knew was that her father knew for years who was terrorizing her, and covered for him. Her father cared more about money and his reputation than he cared about her, his only child.

She felt as if she was in mourning—for who, she wasn't sure, but something died back at that house that she was never going to get back.

Harry silently wrapped his arm around her, tucking her against his chest as she sobbed in heartbreaking puffs. He nosed at her hair, offering nothing more than his presence.

She cried until she fell asleep in the back seat.

—————

"Y'should be proud of yourself, you know."

Harry's murmured words blended in with the noise of the city happening stories below them. Laid under the duvet at her side, he shared her pillow with her as he ran his fingers over the curve of her side in a soothing motion. (Y/N)'s eyes were still swollen from the afternoon she spent off and on crying, takeout containers thrown away in the trash with hers barely touched.

(Y/N) hiccuped, feeling her lip begin to quiver. "I know I didn't do anything wrong, but I still feel guilty."

His observant gaze softened. "That's because you're a good person," he crooned, sincerity dripping from his words, "Even though you expected the worst from him, it's never easy learning something so terrible form someone you're supposed to trust."

"M-Maybe I shouldn't have yelled at him, or—"

"No, don't do that," Harry cut her off, his grip on her side pulsing, "Today happened the exact way it was supposed to. You needed to say those things to him to make him understand. You were never going to be in the wrong for anything that happened today, (Y/N). He did this to himself."

"I just want to forget any of it happened," she whispered, wiggling closer before Harry pulled her into his chest.

He held her, her head under his chin as a fresh wave of tears bubbled in her eyes. She was going to be okay, she knew that, but she never imagined cutting her father off and telling him the things that had been on her mind for years would affect her like this.

"I know," Harry cooed, petting his hand down her hair with his chest rumbling a lullaby, "But 's going to be okay. I jus' want you to know 'm proud of you, and think the absolute world of how strong y'are. No one gives you enough credit."

With every bit of armor shedded from her heart, Harry's words sunk deep.

Once again, he was there for her when she needed him the most. He never shied from taking care of her, putting back her jagged pieces, and standing by to let her have her own choice. While she knew it was the bare minimum, Harry never made her feel crazy or stupid, or anything but completely herself. The second he learned the kind of person she was, he never looked back.

She squeezed herself harder against him. Maybe today was the day for finally saying things that were on her mind.

"I love you."

Her words were smeared against his neck, but she was sure he still heard her with the way his soothing hand through her hair paused.

"What did you say?"

Swallowing, (Y/N) strengthened her resolve. She meant what she said, even if it was scary to admit.

"I love you," she repeated, voice clearer.

Harry pulled her away from his chest then, fitting a hand on the side ochre jaw to tip her head up to face him. His ever observant gaze traced over each of her features, softening until there was nothing left of his irises but melted jade pools. Even in the dark she could still see the freckles dusting the bridge of his nose.

"(Y/N)," he sighed, his thumb running along the soft skin of her cheek. "You mean that?"

She gave him a small nod, a light smile setting on her lips. "I'm all about telling the truth today, remember?"

He didn't budge at her attempt to joke, staying ever serious. His lips parted, a soft puff of air fanning across her features.

"I love you, too."

Before she had a chance to respond, Harry was pushing his lips against hers in a searing kiss. It was messy and unorganized, but there was nothing urgent behind it. It was nothing more than an expression of devotion, filled with everything that simmered beyond what they could find the words for.

"I love you, too," Harry repeated, pulling away just enough to smear the words across her mouth, "So much, sweet girl. Best thing that ever happened to me."

(Y/N) couldn't contain the smile that took her features at his words.

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, mon amour."

He couldn't wait before he brought her in for another kiss.

—————

"I'm so happy you're home," Francesca said, squeezing (Y/N) tighter, "I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Really soon," (Y/N) cemented, feeling just the same to be reunited with her best friend. While she wasn't able to catch her up on everything that she had learned since making it back to New York, (Y/N) didn't plan on keeping it a secret for very long—especially not since she and Harry already decided they were going to file a police report anyway. Her father's word be damned.

"Text me when you get home," Fran smiled, pulling away.

"I will," (Y/N) promised, inching towards the waiting SUV, "Love you."

"Love you, too!"

With that, the door to Sully's car was pushed open from the inside by a hand with a tattooed cross. (Y/N) gave a single wave back to Fran who made her way towards her own car. Her mother was taking her to another gallery opening, pitching that this was going to be the one to finally cause Francesca to realize her dreams. No wonder her friend was dragging her feet.

Climbing into her own car, (Y/N) was greeted with the relieving sight of Harry waiting for her, his arm stretched across the top of the seat for her to fit right underneath.

"Hi," she greeted, feeling lighter to be with him again. It was odd not having him follow her everywhere all the time, anymore. Though he was still her bodyguard in spirit, especially with the unfinished business that was Damien Moore and the potential retaliation that could come, they were learning to relax some of that paranoia. Francesca was a safe boundary to test that with.

"Hi, love," he crooned, pulling her in next to him.

As soon as (Y/N) was buckled in at his side, Sully started off in the opposite direction of the apartment. There was a farmer's market Harry had found outside of the city that he wanted to bring her to (not quite as rustic as the ones in Paris, but they should be alright, he promised). Sully eyed them from the rearview mirror.

"Francesca's doing okay?" Harry asked, his hand on her shoulder squeezing the cuff.

"Yeah," (Y/N) smiled, "She's happy we're home now. Her mom's taking her to a gallery opening tonight."

"Not excited about that then," Harry laughed, remembering those details (Y/N) had shared about her friends all that time ago.

"Definitely not," (Y/N) shook her head, "I almost told her I'd go with her, but I figured my plans were a little more important."

"I'd hope so," he murmured, dropping his head to press a quick kiss to her cheek.

(Y/N)'s easy laughter blinked through the car, Harry's smile extending.

"Mr. Harry?" Sully called from the driver's seat, taking advantage of the lull in conversation.

"Yes, sir?"

Sully's blue eyes glimmered in the reflection of the mirror, the corners creasing that much more with a smile (Y/N) couldn't see. "I take it that you'll be staying with us longer than initially expected?"

A memory sparked to the front of (Y/N)'s mind, months prior before she knew Harry and Harry knew her. Sully had asked how long Harry would be with them, shadowing (Y/N) and monitoring her movements. Harry had put an expiration date on the arrangement, citing the end would come when she could convince her father she was a grownup.

This time, Harry gave an easy smile, full of dimples and white teeth.

"Yes, sir. I'll be staying for a while."

—————

épanouissement is an untranslatable French word that describes the flourishing and blooming of a person growing into a new and more beautiful stage of life

and thats the end of bodyguard h! I had a lot of fun w this one exploring a different kind of female character than im used to and getting to do the writing process a little differnt! thank u so much for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and if theres any ideas for anything thar you want to see next please sent them in!

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gemini-sensei · 5 months

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Baby | Hawk Moskowitz x Teen Mom!Reader

Chubby!Reader - Blurb - based off of this POST

I'm still uncertain about writing Johnny, so I hope this is alright. @sensei-venus <3

It was an average day for Johnny; wake up, eat breakfast, teach karate, then buy groceries before going home. It wasn't supposed to be a long trip, just getting the essentials and something for the night, including a pack of Coors. He planned to be in and out of the store in five minutes. However, the last thing he expected to find inside was his student who had ditched class that day.

Hawk was a great student; he took every lesson and perfected it flawlessly. He was a great fighter, a champion even. Before that, he was a nerd, a rule follower, a nice kid, and some part of that old Hawk still lived somewhere inside of him. So it wasn't within his character to suddenly miss training for any reason.

So when Johnny saw the tall mohawk down an aisle, he wanted to know what was up. But someone blocked his path and the kid was gone before he could walk up to him. He looked for him for a little bit but it was as if he disappeared into thin air. He gave up after just a couple of minutes so he could go home and started making his way to the coolers, telling himself he'd deal with Hawk tomorrow - tear into him for missing an important lesson.

As he walked through the aisles, a child started crying and Johnny rolled his eyes. He asked himself why people brought kids to places like the grocery store when they and everyone else weren't going to enjoy it. The crying grated on his ears and he thought it was about time he got out of there.

The beer coolers were only a few feet away from the dairy section and by the time he got there, the crying had stopped. As he made his way to the Coors section, he heard a familiar voice carry over the aisle. However, it was strange and like he'd never heard it before; bubbly and kid-like.

"What do you think she'll like, this one?" the voice asked in a baby-ish tone. "I think so."

Johnny couldn't help but peek around the corner to see what was going on. He was flabbergasted to see Hawk - the most recent ATV champion and one of the toughest kids he knew - holding a chubby baby on his hip as he looked at yogurt. The baby held onto his shirt collar while chewing on her other hand with her gums. Hawk put whatever kind of yogurt he'd picked out into a shopping cart and smiled at the baby.

"Mission accomplished," he said, as if the baby understood him. She laughed anyway.

Hawk turned and took the shopping cart with one hand, holding the baby girl on his hip. He carried on down the aisle, turning the corner.

"What the Hell?" Johnny asked himself.

He couldn't help following behind, momentarily forgetting his beer. When he reached the end of the aisle, he peeked around the corner to see where Hawk had gone with the baby, seeing them looking at a little display of toy cars. The bubbly baby girl reached out and tried to grab one of the packaged toys, to which Hawk grabbed it and handed it to her.

"You want this one? I'm sure Mama won't mind if you get one," he said. She squealed happily, shaking the toy in the air with a tight grip. He nodded along as if agreeing with her happy screams. "Yeah, that's lots of fun, isn't it?"

He set her down in the shopping cart now that she had something to entertain herself with. Not two seconds later, a girl around his age came up to the cart and placed some cereal boxes inside. Then she smiled at the baby and Hawk before giving him a kiss on the cheek. He put his arm around her thick waist and pulled her into his side, returning the kiss on the cheek. Johnny could just barely see the baby between them, but she watched them with big, enamored eyes.

It was at that moment that Johnny realized that the baby looked like the girl and that she was the girl's mother. And if that was the baby's "Mama", did that mean Hawk was the baby's father? How the Hell did that happen?

When did that happen?

How had he kept all of this to himself?

As the couple moved on through the store, Johnny had seen enough and ducted back between the shelves. He slowly moved himself back to the beer coolers, body on autopilot as he took a deep dive into what he had just witnessed. He grabbed his Coors and then carried himself to the checkout line. He hated self-checkout and wished someone would come around to do this for him as he scanned barcodes whilst he tried to piece together how Hawk of all people had had a baby with someone, gone to school, gone to karate practice, and won the All Valley. It was mind-boggling to him.

It was another day of training. Everyone was going through their stretches to start the day off right. Everyone except for Hawk, who wasn't there at all. It was another day of training without Hawk.

Johnny was a little peeved until he remembered what he had witnessed. But instead of letting it be, he walked over to Hawk's closest friends while they were stretching and chatting about whatever.

"Hey, did any of you know Hawk has a kid?" he asked. Not even a hello.

"What?!" "-are you talking about?" "Are you drunk?"

He glared as they all talked over each other, not appreciating their attitudes and questions. Though it answered his. "Oookay. So none of you knew about that?"

"What are you even talking about?" Miguel asked, giving him a questionable look. If anyone were going to know about a Baby Hawk, it was going to be him and Demetri first and foremost. "Hawk doesn't have a kid."

"Affirmative," Demetri said.

"I saw him just yesterday with a kid on him, talking all that baby talk crap," Johnny said. He crossed his arms over his chest, firm in his belief given what he'd seen. "His girlfriend even looks like she popped a kid out, ya know. All wide and still has the baby fat."

Sam's jaw dropped. "That's no way to talk about Hawk's girlfriend-"

"That we have no idea about," Robby interjected.

"That's just rude," Sam finished.

Johnny looked at her weirdly. "What? She isn't here?"

"That doesn't matter," Miguel clarified, then quickly moved on to the next - and more pressing - topic of conversation. "Hawk has a girlfriend?"

"Yeah, and a baby," Johnny said, becoming tired of running in these circles. He'd said what he said, told them the truth. Why wasn't that enough for them? "I saw what I saw, man. Hawk is with this... chubby" he cut a look at Sam and she didn't look totally annoyed by him, "chick, and they were all over each other and they had that baby. The baby looked just like her too."

"That doesn't necessarily mean that's her baby," Tory said, rolling her eyes and walking away. "This is literally too dumb for me to keep listening to."

"Yeah, maybe that's her sibling or something," Miguel suggested. He looked at Johnny. "Are you sure you're not jumping to any conclusions?"

"No way," Johnny told him. He racked his brain to make sure he hadn't overlooked anything, only to remember the cutesy talk between Hawk and his girlfriend that he'd overheard. "He called her 'hot mama' and shit like that, so I'm sure. I know it. That's his little family or whatever."

Demetri was unconvinced. "Not possible. If I was an uncle. I'd know it."

Sam crossed her arms over her chest, shaking her head. "I don't know. Hawk has been pretty secretive lately."

"And he's missing a lot of training without telling us why," Robby added.

"But before all of that started, everything was normal," Miguel said. He was also unconvinced, sure that his best friend would tell him about something so life-changing. "If he got someone pregnant, he'd wanna be there with her. Nine months and then some is a long time to even hide something like that, ya know?"

The group of teens stood divided and Johnny was proud of it for some reason. He was just happy to be right, leaving the teens to mull over the situation he had brought to them, sure of himself that he'd made the right call. They were ready to text Hawk and ask questions but before one of them could retrieve their phone, Daniel came out and started the class by calling everyone together.

It was a strange day after that. No one could focus, their thoughts all on Hawk and the unknown girlfriend and baby Johnny have brought their attention too. Except for Tory, who didn't let it bother her because, as she said, it was too dumb to pay attention to.

to be continued?

#mom reader #domestic blurb #hawk moskowitz x reader #hawk moskowitz x chubby reader #hawk moskowitz #eli hawk moskowitz #eli moskowitz x reader #eli moskowitz x chubby reader #eli moskowitz imagine #eli moskowitz #johnny lawrence #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

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slasher-male-wife · 7 months

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How horror characters spend their Halloween with you

I wrote about this last Halloween and I wanted to make a better version of it with more characters this time. I am such a slut for Halloween and just autumn in general.

Includes: Asa Emory, Michael Myers, Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham, The Sinclair brothers and Severen

Warnings: Murder and violence mentions, Hannibal being a little mean, blood talk in Severen's part (he's a little weirdo)

Asa Emory

He honestly thinks Halloween is a children's holiday. He never even bothered to get Halloween candy before he met you. If you're really Halloween obsessed he'll consider letting you put up decorations that he approves of. It's not cheap Halloween, Christian girl autumn or classic Halloween, its a secret fourth thing.

I can see him favoring vintage Halloween decorations over the newer ones. But he does like the insect and bug themed things you bring home. He wants the Halloween bug decorations to be casual enough to keep out year round.

He doesn't go to Halloween parties and if you bring him to one he's not dressing up. He'd say he's dressed up as an 'entomologist' or if you know his identity as the collector 'a homicidal maniac'.

He probably doesn't like horror movies because he's one of those people who think all horror movies are bad. But if he happens to see a new way he can torture someone he'll happily sit through a saw movie to see how else he can torment people.

He honestly won't eat any candy but as an 'experiment' he'll see how much you can eat before you get sick. Speaking of candy if you want to get up and answer the door to hand out candy you can do that but he's not joining you. If you're going to be out or you don't want to be disturbed he'll be happy to leave out a bowl.

Michael Myers

He's obviously going to be busy with killing people so for a majority of Halloween you'll be on your own. But he will be watching you the rest of the month as you put up decorations and buy candy.

He'll also be sneaking candy from the bags you buy. It might be smart to buy two bags just for Michael to eat on his own. If he's feeling generous he'll share some with you.

He gets some kind of weird enjoyment in seeing if you dress up and what you dress up as. Enjoyment in a Michael Myers kind of way. He likes more classic costumes and ones that have a good amount of effort put into them. He also thinks that he sexy Halloween costumes are just silly.

I feel like if you let him Michael would enjoy picking out your Halloween costume. Like you give him a pen and paper and he picks out what costume you wear, he would love that. I feel like he'd choose something funny to him, like the sheet ghost.

He'll get home in the early morning of November first and if you're still awake he'll spend time with you after washing up. If you're watching horror movies that's even better for him. He'll sit on the couch and watch them with you. Or if he's feeling affectionate he'll even lay down and have you lay on top of him while you watch.

Hannibal Lecter

He's European and to my knowledge Halloween isn't that big of a thing in Europe. He's familiar with Halloween and stuff but he doesn't really celebrate it. If you're really into Halloween he's happy to listen to you tell him all about it.

He's not really in a neighborhood to give out candy in and he also doesn't eat anything that isn't a 14 course meal so if you want Halloween candy you'll have to get it on your own. Even then he'll probably just silently judge you for it.

He's not much of a decorator for holidays, especially Halloween because of how 'cheap' and 'ugly' the decor is. If you try to put up stuff he doesn't like he'll throw it away or if it gets bad enough, tell you to stop putting things up. It all depends on the decorations though.

I can see him making an excuse to throw a dinner party for Halloween. But without costumes or any Halloween themeing and it's just a dinner party on Halloween. If you're someone who likes to spend Halloween watching Horror movies or going to parties Hannibal is fine with that. He won't join you at the parties and he might try to get you to not go but he's happy to watch Horror movies with you.

I can see him trying to cook stuff with pumpkin in it. But I strongly believe that he wouldn't let anyone carve pumpkins in his house. You've seen his clear suit while he kills people and how clean his house and office always is so I doubt he'd enjoy carving a pumpkin and how messy it can get.

Will Graham

Because of his upbringing he never really got to enjoy a traditional Halloween as a child and I feel like he rarely went to Halloween parties, so he's not a big Halloween kind of guy.

If you're putting up decorations you'll have to keep the dogs in mind. I think Will trains then well and that they're well behaved in general but you can never be too careful. I also think he'd find decorating a little pointless since he lives far away from everyone else.

He doesn't buy candy because there's no trick or treaters to give candy to, also again, his dogs. So you can buy candy for the two of you to share but I feel like you'd end up eating more than him.

Because Will is kind of prone to nightmares he wouldn't be super interested in watching horror movies, or spooky kid movies. But I do think he'd be open to the idea of reading scary stories together.

If Halloween is important to you he'll treat it as kind of important too, because he loves you. I don't see him doing costumes, but I do think he'd be willing to put the dogs in costumes for pictures and stuff like that.

Bo Sinclair

He never really got to enjoy Halloween as a child because he had to take care of Vincent and Lester. I also feel like his parents just didn't really like Halloween in general so they didn't celebrate it. This has led into his adult life where he doesn't celebrate Halloween.

He works like a majority of the time. I feel like he'll wake up at any hour of the night to go deal with victims. So trying to convince him to take off Halloween will take a lot of convincing. But he'll eventually understand and take the night off to spend with you.

I feel like he'd rather give up on the town than wear a costume. He'd be like Asa and just wear his normal clothes and say he's something. Like he'd wear his coveralls and say he's 'a mechanic' for Halloween.

He never bought candy before for Halloween but if you buy candy, he's probably stealing a lot of it, if not the whole bag. There's no trick or treaters so he'll happily watch horror movies with you and eat an entire bag of Halloween candy.

Speaking of horror movies he'll complain about watching horror movies until you throw in something like there's nudity in the movies, then he's more willing to watch the movies with you.

Vincent Sinclair

He thinks Halloween is a good time to incorporate more horror elements into his art as if he doesn't already do that. I can see him enjoying the idea of sketching or painting you in different Halloween costumes. They'll probably come from victims but he doesn't think it's a big deal.

He'd love to carve pumpkins with you but he'd be one of those people who takes it really seriously and probably makes some kind of masterpiece on the pumpkin. He'll probably just bribe Lester to get them for you because Bo would say no.

I don't think he has the biggest sweet tooth so he'll probably not be eating much candy, but that won't stop him from bribing Lester to get you some if you want candy. I can see him decorating the House of Wax for Halloween, complete with wax candy.

He'd be open to watching horror movies with you, but I seem him only really enjoying like art house or psychological horror movies, like ones with commentary or just ones that are really odd in a good way. He'll watch more cheesy and silly horror movies but he won't really like them.

I can see Vincent taking Halloween as an opportunity to kill people in more creative ways. Like the classic poisoning candy. I think he'd get more creative with it too, like using fake cobwebs to strangle someone to death.

Lester Sinclair

I feel like Bo and Vincent let Lester have some kind of Halloween. Their parents tried to keep them from celebrating Halloween but the twins scraped up some kind of pocket money to buy candy they could share with him.

Despite him not celebrating Halloween as a child I feel like Lester likes Halloween in a normal way. He likes Halloween and the aesthetics of Halloween. He has decorations but he doesn't usually put them up, but if you want them up he'll put them up for you.

He'll probably have to work on Halloween because he works almost every day. But he'll make sure to get Halloween night off so he can spend it with you watching Halloween movies and doing fun Halloween activities.

Like Will he'd love to dress Jonesy up in a dog costume and take pictures of her. He wouldn't dress up but if you wear a costume he'd be all over it no matter what you're wearing.

Depending on how long you've been with him he might take you to a haunted house outside of town if you're interested in haunted houses. He'd only do this if you've been with him for a very long time. He'd keep a close eye on you while you're out of the house, but he still wants to make sure you're having a good time.

Severen

He's very into Halloween. Even though he lives in cars and motels he still finds fun ways to celebrate Halloween. I feel like he'd binge blood from people dressed as vampires for Halloween.

He's weirdly into blood. Like he'll get his hands purposely covered in blood just so he can rub the blood all over you because he thinks you look hot when you're covered in blood. So on Halloween he'll get really messy with it. I feel like his costume would just be his normal outfit covered in blood. Also he might make out with you while his mouth is filled with blood.

He totally crashes Halloween parties and drinks himself super sick. I feel like vampires have a high alcohol tolerance but they have worse hang overs. But he thinks it's worth it to drink himself sick at a Halloween party with you.

If Halloween parties aren't your thing he's happy to just sneak into a movie theater and watch some horror movies. He'd especially enjoy if you get scared or squirmy and hold onto him while you watch the movies.

He knows you can't have Halloween without candy so he'll either steal candy from kids (unless you tell him not to) or he'll steal some from a store. He can eat a ton of candy before he gets sick and if you can't eat as much as him he'll tease you about it (but he really does care).

#asa emory #asa emory x reader #michael myers x reader #michael myers x you #michael myers x y/n #hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter x you #hannibal lecter x reader #will graham #will graham x reader #will graham x you #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader #severen near dark #severen x reader #slasher x reader #slasher x y/n #slasher fanfiction

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alicerosejensen · 1 year

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Just headcanons where Leon is almost Sugar Daddy and just a guy who really wants love and care

I try not to deviate from the canon. Leon is even more likely here as an overly caring partner who does not mind the money for his S/O.

Warning: age difference

- The first thing you need to know is that Leon should have feelings for you so that he becomes someone like your patron.

- Among other things, he is well versed in people and wants you to be not indifferent to him, and not see him only as a bag of money.

- He needs your affection.

- He will buy you anything you want, in fact, despite the fact that he gets good money for his work, Leon doesn't spend much of it (apart from alcohol and leather jackets, and I'm sure he has a motorbike), so spending money on you is even a joy for him. No extra questions, you can not tell him anything at all, but just look at some thing in the store, go crazy with the price and leave, so that the next moment Leon grabs your hand and pays for everything that you put your beautiful eye.

- Leon is not embarrassed by your age difference, in fact, sometimes he even laughs at your jokes about being an old man. And no, he is not offended, he just does not have much time to learn about modern trends, fashion and other things, but he will listen to you with pleasure.

- Buys you flowers, or arranges home delivery.

- Leon is a complex and private person. He will never discuss his problems with you, and if you start asking him about it, he will gently push you away, but nevertheless, if you have problems, he will solve everything without hesitation. He took care of you, so this is another duty of his.

- Leon is a very gentle lover, but dominant. In bed with him there will be no particular rudeness and, first of all, he will strive to deliver pleasure to you. No spanking, no biting (I'm sure he has a trigger on them at all), insulting a partner. Only strokes, passionate kisses, perhaps hickeys, praise and teasing. Leon won't mind trying anything new with you, but if it's something that hurts you or him (whether it's short term or not) then he'll immediately refuse. And still, he will insist that you have a stop word.

- He has a lot of psychological traumas including ptsd, so getting back to the topic of sex, Leon wants tenderness in return from you. He likes the warmth of your body and the calm rhythm of your heart calms him. Not immediately, but he will ask you to go to bed with him without clothes so that he can enjoy your warmth and sleep a little peacefully. Leon will be happy if you do not refuse such a strange request. And yes, he loves to be a little spoon, but in moments of weakness, this is vital for him.

- For the fact that you help to survive these constant flashbacks, Leon tries to compensate you with his love and trips to expensive places. If you want, he will gladly take you somewhere for the weekend. Alpine skiing, expensive restaurants and an expensive hotel with a red "do not disturb" sign on the door of the room.

- Usually he is not jealous, but the thought of you leaving for someone else scares him. He has little experience in relationships, so he prefers to ask about what you want and he gives it to you. Do not be shy, just tell him about it, for you he will give you everything.

- From the above, he does not accept any betrayals: neither spiritual, nor even more so physical. It will hurt him too much, so you should not give him a reason to doubt loyalty. He is not paranoid in this regard and will not go crazy with rage just because you are just chatting with a friend you knows from school / college / university / work, but if he notices flirting on your part, then ... no good.

- You are only his girl, he likes to mention it and think about it, but he is also completely your man. No third parties. (sorry Ada he needs a healthy relationship)

- He's not paranoid out of jealousy, but he's paranoid out of your safety. He must make sure that your seat belt is fastened; hold his hand when crossing the road; God forbid you cut yourself or break something. His alarm sensor will simply overwhelm and break to hell.

- He loves to give you lace underwear.

- And glad when you seduce him.

- He will rarely call you by your first name (maybe if only something serious or at the very beginning of a relationship), mostly it will be cute nicknames.

-Don't ask about his work. Even when you are already in a long-term relationship, he still won't tell you much. Unless he works for the government and that's all.

- Leon doesn't want you to work either. He wants you to always wait for him with hugs when he comes home, he will probably even persuade you to leave the job where you are currently working, because he can fully provide for you. However, if you are burning with the ideas of creating a career, he will not interfere with this. Everything for your happiness.

- He likes quiet evenings. Like family with food and TV. In fact, he can play a console with you and probably beat you in some kind of shooter, but he will smile funny when, after successful headshots, you say that you should be taken to the special forces right now.

- Leon loves hugs more than sex.

- You are his spoiled sugar girl, and in this context, he calls you sugar because you are sweet.

#leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #reader #leon kennedy resident evil #leon kennedy headcanons #resident evil headcanons #headcanon

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