#and even then they won't have the tiny details in place

[georgeclarkesgf]

Hiiiiii ❤️❤️

Would you be up for writing any George Clarke fics about labour or birth???

here you go lovely <3

if you had to describe your labour in three words they would be long, painful and frustrating.

baby girl clarkey had clearly found your uterus an enjoyable place to live the past nine months. you were nine days overdue when your water broke and throughout labour, she seemed to be refusing to descend. in an attempt to lessen the pain and quicken the process, the midwife recommended a birthing ball. you nodded, hoping gravity would do its job. you were also grateful for anything that would provide you with some relief. george carefully guided you to sit on the ball since he wanted to be useful in any way he could. a tired smile was thrown his way and he felt like crying seeing how much pain you were in.

"i'm so incredibly proud of you my love. it won't be long till we get to meet our babygirl," he presses a lingering kiss to your forehead and moves behind you to redo your hair, "i hope she looks like you."

"why?" you questioned, sensing the start of yet another contraction.

"cause you're beautiful."

"you're so cheesy." george's jaw dropped, pretending to be offended.

he started massaging your back as you concentrated on breathing through another contraction. the midwife kept checking your progress and her heartbeat and after what seemed like days, she finally said the words you were so excited and yet so scared to hear.

"alright y/n, it's time to push. let's have this baby." you turned to look at george, a terrified expression on your face.

"baby, you can do this. everyone knows it." he gave you a reassuring smile.

the midwife and george went to help you up off the ball to the bed before you stopped them, "wait, i want george there. on the bed i mean. behind me."

in a matter of seconds, he was on the bed after getting the midwife's nod of approval and removing his shoes and jumper. before the need to push hit, you got comfortable, laying against george's chest. screaming, crying, and lots of encouraging words filled the next few minutes. you gripped george's hands tightly as each contraction came and pushed hard until the sound you had been waiting months to hear filled the room.

your beautiful baby girl's cry.

she was placed on your chest, and a rush of overwhelming love and relief flooded over you. tears filled your eyes as you took in every detail of her. her tiny fingers and toes. her nose which she definitely got from you. everything about her was perfect. george, who was also crying, kissed your shoulder and stroked his baby girl's cheek.

"she's so perfect," he whispered, "i'm so, so, so proud of you. i love you."

BONUS

(i was gonna just end it there but i wanted to include telling the boys so have this)

you were in love with her, and both of you were enjoying and starting to adjust to life as a family of three, even if it had only been a few hours. labour had exhausted you but you seemed too overwhelmed with emotions to be able to sleep. you also hadn't had time to since both your families had arrived, wanting to meet the newest addition and check up on you both.

"george?" he hummed in acknowledgment, still enamored with his baby girl.

"you wanna facetime chris and them lot?" his head popped up at the question, moving from the side of the cot to sit by you on the bed.

"you sure? i don't want it to be too much. and i was quite enjoying our baby bubble." he brushed a piece of hair from your face, scanning your face for any sort of hesitance.

"me too," you agreed, "but i think they'll notice something's off when you don't go to the flat to watch the match tonight."

"well, i was still gonna go," he had a cheeky smirk on his face, watching for your reaction, to which you raise your eyebrows, "i'm joking. yea okay, let's facetime them."

george grabbed his phone and face timed chris, knowing the rest of the group will already be there for the match. the phone rang for a few seconds before he answered.

"alright mate?" chris asked, before realising george wasn't on his way like he thought he would be, "where are you? we're all waiting for you."

"uh, i actually won't make it tonight. something's come up. who's there anyway?" shouts of disappointment came from the other end of the phone and you couldn't help but quietly laugh.

"literally everyone. mr television, mr hill, chip, will, cal. you know the rest, do i have to name everyone? it's the boys." george cringed at that, knowing chris only says it to wind him up.

"chris, just shut up. can you put the phone somewhere please, i need everyone to be able to see me," you both watched as the phone was placed on the table and everyone filtered into shot one by one, "also, can someone please record this on their camera if they have it with them?"

you grabbed george's hand, knowing he was nervous, and nodded at him as though to ask if he was ready since you could hear some of the boys asking what was going on. he passed the phone to you, earning more looks of confusion before chip spoke up.

"y/n, we love you but what's with the teasing. we have a game to watch." you rolled your eyes, feeling the bed dip from george having just brought over your baby girl.

you couldn't contain your smile, "we have a surprise." you turned the camera to george, who was cradling your daughter in his arms.

the other end of the phone was silent for a few moments before they erupted into cheers.

"will, you owe me fifty quid." cal cheered, turning to him with a hand out expectantly.

"hang on a minute, you guys were betting on when i'd give birth?" you gasped as they all nodded their heads.

"you were nine days past your due date y/n. it was only a matter of time." will confirmed, handing cal his money.

"congratulations though guys, she's gorgeous. does she have a name yet?" arthur tv asked, as they all quieted down waiting.

you glanced at george, who nodded, knowing you had your heart set on a name, "yea. this is isla."

questions came one after the other from the boys, but george knew you were tired and isla needed to be fed. dad mode was evidently activated.

"guys calm down. we'll answer the questions when we see you but for now, you have a match to watch and we have a baby to feed. we just wanted you to know she was here." you all said goodbye to each other before the call ended, allowing you to go back to your own little bubble.

"we did it." you whispered, staring at the tiny little girl who somehow looked even smaller in george's arms.

"we did."

[becaexists]

The temptation to write a new fic just about the volta siblings

[fagtainsparklez]

SPARKLEZ!

You wouldn't believe the things I've seen. Or maybe you would. What do I know?

Worlds upon worlds of wonder have embraced my many selves. I'm living a thousand lives at once. And those are just the lives I'm aware of. For instance, in a place called Middle Earth I am reborn a beautiful elf queen. And under the ice shield of a moon called Europa I am a strand of plankton. And in a world we both know well, I'm a bunch of little girls who look just like me, and maybe other things too... Anyway, my umbrella consciousness has reformed for just a moment; my caretaker, in his mercy, has allowed me to show you these things.

But you definitely won't believe the most amazing thing I've seen. Lately I've been looking through a window... A window into bygone years. A man sits in front of a screen, speaking his soul to the world while playing a game. I think I know who he is!

I see this man forming friendships with those who also speak to the world. I know who they are too. They project themselves as tiny box figures into a world made of boxes. It's so much less detailed than the world where the man and his friends sit. I would not have known Ruxomar and it's sister dimensions to be so childlike in appearance except by this contrast!

The days go on as the friends play. The boxlike world is ruled by two gods. Of course I know who they are. The man is faced with a choice between the two. His life is riddled with choices! And like the stubborn idealist he is, he carves out a middle path. He'll take neither god. He'll have a goddess all to his own.

He created me.

A man named Jordan Maron created the goddess Ianite in a world beyond worlds. And Jordan Maron looks just like you. He is one of your countless alternate selves. He looks so much less boxy! I think that if I did not already know you and Spark so well, I would call him my favorite version.

Now I grasp the truth I have been seeking all my life. I have see what is above gods. It is ____________.

My umbrella consciousness won't hold much longer. Let me say a few choice words before the final goodbye between this version of you and this version of me. Thank you for choosing to create me. I believe that had the other you not made that choice in that far off world, none of my present selves would exist. In a strange sense, you are my god. Thank you for believing in your creation enough to make it real. Thank you for continuing to love me and make choices for my wellbeing. I hope another you loves another me in another world soon.

If Jordan looks out the window one of these days, he might be able to see me.

Not even creeping. Just fyi.

Forever Your Lady

[ohrudi]

Fix: Sims need less Space

TL;DR

with this mod, your sims need half of the space for all interactions, which vastly improves routing in small spaces

each package file requires a different expansion pack. The requred expansion is part of the filename.

Installation: just put all the files in your packages-folder, the usual way, merging is no problem

Conflicts: highly unlikely, see below for detail

compatible with all my other mods

compatible with Interaction on sloped terrain enabler by nikel23

compatible with simler90's Gameplay Core Mod (Update 198 and above, since 28th Apr 2024)

also here's my other BIG routing fix for pets

Download

ModTheSims | Simblr | SimFileShare

Hey Simmers, Rudi has a big mod-achievement for you today: it's time for my tenth and biggest mod yet

Just recently I play tested my new awesome house, that's cramped up with clutter and plants all the way up to the roof, just to realize, that my Sims are walking in the garden to interact with each other, cause many of the spaces are too tight. But no more! With this mod, those issues will forever be a sorrow of the past.

Explanation - how the mod works This mod reduces the space that sims need for doing things, similar to my other mods. It does this by overwriting the jig size for each sim interaction. A jig is an invisible object that’s auto placed on the ground, while e.g. two sims are talking to each other. Other sims will walk around the other sims talking, cause the jig (placed under the sims talking) obstructs the routing-way for other sims. By default all jigs are quite big, in most cases even way bigger than they need to be. But if you reduce the jig size by a mod, than those interactions are possible even in tiny over-cluttered rooms.

Now these mods do the same for all sim interactions.

How to install

Installation: just put all the files in your packages-folder, the usual way, nothing special required, you can merge them as well

each file requires a different expansion pack

the required expansion pack is part of the filename

if you don't have the expansion pack, it's just doing nothing, but it won't cause any other problems

Recommended Mods, that further improve routing

Pets need less Space by OhRudi

Guitar needs less Space for playing by OhRudi

Bass needs less Space for playing by OhRudi

Interaction on sloped terrain enabler by nikel23

NRaas GoHere by Twallan

Route Fix v9 by Twoftmama (Login required)

List of all altered Interactions

Interactions altered for Basegame

HelpWithHomework

HomeworkSolo

Insect

performer

playInSand

RabbitHoleDoor

SimSittingOnFloor

Sleeping

SocialBabyToddler

SocialOnePerson

SocialTwoPerson_0_35Unit

SocialTwoPerson_1_25Unit

SocialTwoPerson_1_68Unit

SocialTwoPerson_1Unit

SocialTwoPerson_3Unit

SocialTwoPerson_3UnitFight

SocialTwoPerson

TeachToWalk

ThrowingGamePaired

throwPotionAt

Toy

ToyToddler

WorkOut

Interactions altered for World Adventures Expansion

Spar

Interactions altered for Ambitions Expansion

MeteorImpact

MinerExclusion

Interactions altered for Late Night Expansion

barBrawl

cameraVideoMedium

CelebPhotoSocialTwoPerson

socialClubDance

SocialTwoPersonElboWest

soloClubDance

Interactions altered for Generations Expansion

daycareProblems_1pt25_r2_c0

elderCaneIdle

flamingBag

pillowFightA2a

pillowFightA2cC2a

pillowFightC2c

tellTale

watchingStars

Interactions altered for Showtime Expansion

CrowdMonsterSittingPlace

CrowdMonsterStandingPlace

kitFrontStage_Sing

kitPerformer_solicit

KitPerformerForTips

KitPerformer

LevitateMagicianSoloForTips

LevitateMagicianSolo

MeditateSolo

ShowFloorBenchPlacement

singAGramFxPack_perform

singer_playForTips

Interactions altered for Supernatural Expansion

castSpell

castSpellDuel

playFetchWerewolf

playTagWerewolfFairy

practiceSpell

Interactions altered for Seasons Expansion

alienConsumeMeteor

ballFightLarge

ballFightSmall

cloudRay

poolLounger

rake

simFreezing

skatingPondSpinCouple

skatingPondSpinSingle

skatingSpinCouple

skatingSpinSingle

Slowdance

Sparkler

umbrellaUpgrade

vehicleUFO_invasion

vehicleUFO

Interactions altered for University Expansion

computerLaptop_floor

flyingDisc

graffitiArt

groupScience

improvedProtesting

kickyBag_dual

kickyBag_solo

Interactions altered for Island Paradise Expansion

adultSandcastle

BoatBackUpLarge

BoatBackUpSmall

houseboatPortal

kraken

lifeguardFakeInjury

lifeguardFakeInjuryRouting

lifeguardRescueWater

lifeguardRescueWaterRouting

mermDehydrate

playingInOcean

SeaLife

sharkAttack

sharkAttackSurface

simPlaceInWater

sweep

UnderwaterSocial

Interactions altered for Into The Future Expansion

computerHologram

dewFightLarge

dewFightSmall

harpLaser

jetpackFlyAround

jetpackLandFail

jetpackTakeOff

MeteorImpactEP11

moonBounce

performComedyShow

Technical Details

this mod edits the all jigs from all expansion packs and base game

Conflicts: only if you have a mod installed who's editing exactly this resource as well, but I assume that's highly unlikely

use delphys dashboard to check for conflicts

I dearly hope your pets enjoy their new freedom. :luff:

Additional Credits: A BIG THANK YOU to my lovely Beta-Testers: @maysmile3213516, @SimC, @murfee, @echoweaver, @CardinalSims, @Sazandora123, @vaddish, @nahyutarightsactivist and @Shadez S3PE S3OC @you-will-never-find-me-anymore for letting me use her Bonehilda for my awesome profile picture

AND to this awesome and still alive community of simmers

Happy Simming <3

made by @OhRudi

[frogchiro]

Ok so about cow!reader and soap i wanted to get into bit more detail

Bull!Soap is mounting cow!reader all day because he could smell her hea was getting close he was following her around all day and kept messing with her until farmer!price had to step in and took reader away

Bull!Soap is so cheeky!! He has no shame at all and may seem like a bit of an airhead, more muscles than brains but he's stupidly brave and cunning in his own way, an example of this is when he managed to break through into your pasture one sunny day😭

How he did it no one really knows but all Soap cares about is finding you!! He could smell you from far away, your sweet scent tinged with a more heavy note-you were near your heat! A perfect time for him to finally get to you and breed you so that way Price won't take you away from him since you will be a mated pair with a baby, it's a genius plan!!

When he finally finds you he swears he hears angels singing; you're laid out like a meal on the soft grass, the sun giving your soft skin and fluffy coat an etheral glow as you lay calm and happy among tiny white flowers and only move when you hear Johnny call out to you and you moo softly back.

You shift a bit from your position and prop yourself up on your elbow as you watch the large bull approach you, his heady musky scent making your pussy clench and ache and you curse softly; Soap's your friend but your incoming heat is clouding your mind and the quick thought of being mounted by one of the strong bulls here on the farm comes and goes in the blink of an eye and leaves you flustered, your tail lashing behind you.

Soaps smirks at your form, much more twitchy and fidgety than before and from then on it's game on for him. For the rest of the day he'll be flexing and preening before you, showing off like crazy and scenting you even more, releasing as much of his musky scent as possible to push you over the edge and get you into heat, he's so so ready to mate :(( He'll be nuzzling against you insistently, desperately wanting you to present yourself and smell like him, draping himself over your back and trying to hump you, listening to your whines and soft moos as he tries to fit the tip of his cock inside your aching cunt but in his desperate state he always misses making his cock slide over your swollen lower lips and smearing his seed all over you.

By afternoon you basically won't be able to get him off of you, being on the brink of your heat clouding your head and almost sending Soap into an early rut but he still can't seem to get inside you :(( Your hole just seems too tight and slippery with slick making his cock slide over it and only just managing to hump you, your poor pussy and lower tummy covered with his seed but none of it inside you where he wants :((

Just when Soap was starting to get angry with impatience and desperation, his need to breed overtaking any rational thought he was suddenly pulled back roughly by his horns by and even angrier Price who was basically fuming. How the fuck did this even happen? How did Soap manage to get into your pasture in the first place?? But Price guessed it didn't really matter at that point, his main priority was getting you safely to your private pen/stable to get you safe and comfortable with your heat and send Soap back into his shared barn with the other bulls and punish him to hell and back. He'll have to do a pussy inspection on you now too to make sure Soap didn't stuff you full with his seed but that's more of a pleasure for John than a chore <3

[rizsu]

“later,” he said—no, he promised. later he promised to apologize. later he promised it'll be alright. later gojo promised to talk it out yet again meaningless promises are meant to be broken. like a jigsaw puzzle piece to its board, they fit in well. no one cares about promises that were spat out to ease the fuel, is what he thinks. at the end of the day, if it's not important it'll end up passing like a leaf floating through the wind. to bother and not be bothered: the rules by which gojo carries on his life.

he bothers with the quests that are deemed important and alarming to him. if such fails to pass this, they will be discarded—much like the “argument” that took place last night. he doesn't recall anything that happened. other than meeting heads with the couch, there really isn't any details from the prior night that sticks out to him.

much to his disappointment, there's the prickling feeling that he did something wrong and has yet to make ends meet for it. did i fuck up somewhere? he wonders. a pout and furrowed eyebrows welcome themselves as he takes his precious time trying to figure out what or who he wronged.

he's yet to find the answer. not bothering with it any longer, he pops two painkillers dry and makes his way to your shared bedroom, unaware of you who's been in a horrible mood ever since. scratching the back of his head, he walks around confused. in his front view is you, who looks stressed even though you're asleep. the dried trails of tears deepen his confusion. just how hungover was i? he questions, oblivious to the blunt fact that it's him who caused it all.

“hey,” gojo whispers, softly shaking your body to jerk you awake. it doesn't work, so he continues until you're conscious. as soon as he sees movement from you, he stops, placing his hand stationary on your hip. watching you twist and turn, he's caught by surprise when you flick his hand away. are you mad? upset? sick? he has no knowledge of what or why you're like this.

“baby? did i do something? what's wrong?” throwing questions at you, his face contorts into confusion and worry. what's going on with you? why won't you communicate? he has many questions that only fuel your anger. does he really not remember? was it truly just like a fly buzzing around his food? is he really that self-centered? no—you know he's not but was your so called “argument” that useless to him? unbelievable.

you try your best to ignore him, really, but his bothersome behavior will either make him see his deity or see the life of being single once again. your tolerance level lowers each time you hear his voice. at this moment, you truly dislike this man. whoever wants to call you sensitive can kiss your ass. you rightfully have every right to seethe with dislike towards gojo.

“can you STOP?!” emerging from under the covers, you look at gojo. oh, how sweet he looks. so sweet yet so rotten.

taken back, gojo raises his hands in defense. if you don't at least hint to him what happened, he's going to go insane.

“what demon possessed you today?” “fuck you.”

you give no more than two words and a middle finger to him. you're too salty at the truth—the truth of him not remembering anything. not even what happened moments before he fell asleep. you're kind of sad, honestly. you love him a lot and it does hurt.

“do you not recall..?” it's your turn to question him. with the softest voice possible, you look at him, eyes wavering to observe his reaction. you hope he at least lies. the truth hurts and you're definitely not in the mood to accept it.

“... recall what?”

oh, alright. you knew he was drunk, but not that drunk. can't blame him but that's exactly what you're going to do. he just cannot act so innocently. he can't. who does that?! not anyone with a sense shame, that's for sure—but who is gojo satoru to feel such tiny things?

sighing, you turn your back to him, making sure to cover your entire body with the duvet. the longer you acknowledge him, the faster your violent tendecies will take over. although you're disturbed, you still have to speak to him, it's a habit, unfortunately, “do not bother me, gojo.”

offended and shocked being his two most dominant emotions today, he raises an eyebrow, ready to drop another question as if it's a pop-up quiz, “what do you mean by that?”

—

minutes and hours pass by and gojo's still hosting that offended expression. really, it's the only emotion he's been feeling ever since he graced the house with his presence. today might just be the day he buries himself in search for eternal rest. when it comes to others' problems, he will be there as if he's a superhero, but his? oh, his new name might just be master deflector three thousand. gojo has a complex—it's not a god complex, rather, it's a how-do-i-face-my-emotional-demons complex. he masks everything with a joke and confidence but never permit that to steer you away from who he truly is. not a god, just gojo satoru.

gojo's alone now, sinking into his thoughts as he remembers how you left earlier. another argument occurred and just like last night, he mirrored his actions—though completely unknown to him, you clearly remember it all. the same nonchalant way he waved you off, the way he oozed of attitude as he rolled his eyes, the same way his voice dominated when he finally reaches his limit.

sipping on his glass, he pokes his inner cheek with his tongue, salty at the scene replaying in his mind. unable to contain your violent tendecies, your eyes took over as tears overflowed from the rims. you didn't shout, didn't hit, didn't throw anything—just took a deep breathe in and walked away with a sour smile.

gojo's eyes trailed your figure, watching your figure disappear without care. like always, he believes it'll be alright. he's sure that all you need is space and you'll come back. gojo believes in a simple apology being the bandaid to the injury, which is why his eyes bulged when you came into view with a bag or two.

gojo's body immediately dashed to yours from his position almost leaving a cartoonish dust trail behind him. his hand grips against yours, pulling your body closer to his. clenching his jaw, he questions—no, demands, “where are you going?”

a stuttering breath escapes from you, too exhausted to have anything else to say, you give him an acceptable answer, “away from you, obviously.”

his grip tightens, the same feeling from the moment he woke up swirls arounds. his stomach feels like a bottomless pit, the sick feeling just never ends. annoyed at your constant deflecting, the tone of his voice changes but he never raises the volume.

“fucking stop it and tell me.”

no response. he doesn't get the response he wants, but he does receive you wriggling your arm out from his grip. holding your arm to your chest, it stings as his fingerprints disappear within a blink. gojo hates it. he hates the look of disgust in your eyes. he despises what's happening. he despises that something happened before all this and he can't, for the love of him, remember anything.

uncomfortable silence dominates. you're avoiding every attempt of eye contact and gojo's eyes scan your features. she's uncomfortable, he thinks. his heart may as well shatter into separated atoms. his eyes dull in color, slowly backing away from you as he turns his back to you again. dumping his body on the couch, he rests his head on his palm, waving you off with simple words, “go if you want, leave as you wish. i'm done.”

oh okay, a bitter taste envelops your cells, he's done. loosely holding your bags, you drag your feet to the door, looking back at him for one more, one more chance to confirm if you should leave or not. his slumped figure gives you all the confirmation you need. with that, you leave. taking two steps out, you speak with a low voice, praying that he'll hear it.

“bye-bye, satoru.”

gojo raises two fingers, showing you that he heard you well. waiting for the door to click, he leans his head back on the couch, finally allowing himself to succumb to his feelings. every negative emotion and its synonym engulfs him, feeding off of his body and draining him clean of any optimism. is it over? he doesn't know. he hopes it's not. never did he ever want to let you slip through that door but what could he have done? it was more than evident that you were uncomfortable with him. he just can't be selfish and keep you.

maybe he's malfunctioning but there's very much little beads of tears forming in his eyes. it's been a rather long day so why not let it out? comforting in the feeling of the liquid sliding down the sides of his face, he forces back any vocal sound of his cries. he'll rather sink into silence than to do anything else.

[moonchildstyles]

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!

[bythepen98]

Doodles || Tomarry || Childhood friends/Growing Up Together au

(Ignore the not-so-time-period-accurate outfits)

Think of this as a timetravel au where Harry accidentally gets sent back to the past in Wool's orphanage at a young enough age where he barely notices the changes caused by the time displacement and thus grows up nonethewiser to his destiny as the Chosen One. Even when, objectively, his life at the orphanage could be considered worse considering the growing lack of food, his environment's state of decay and overall unrest happening outside the orphanage's walls, something about his situation felt right(?).

He'd always felt disconnected and out of place based on the few memories he still had from living with the Dursleys but now, it felt like he was home in a way. Like something finally clicked in his brain, his soul.

His instant connection to Tom helped cement that fact. It wasn't easy at first because the pull they felt when they first met was so strong that it scared Harry shtless and Tom, already half-full of resentment by this point, was horrified feeling anything to anyone that wasn't disgust. In the end, it didn't take long for them to meet halfway since they were still children and curiosity at the connection lured them in like candy; Harry wanted a special friend of his own and Tom convinced himself that Harry was worth his time because there was no way anyone ordinary could elicit such a soul deep response from him.

Tom has a mean streak and is more bloodthirsty than his charming facade would show but is honest about it with Harry. Although he doesn't have much to his name, Tom is serious about his self-imposed role as Harry's provider, giving him gifts (from the money he steals) during his birthdays and keeping him as warm and well fed as possible (by bullying the other kids into surrendering their share).

Sometimes, Tom....worries.....that his methods would eventually drive Harry - who has such an inherent goodness in him, so often kind to people who don't deserve it - away but what he fails to understand is that Harry's love and loyalty to the first friend he's ever made trumps any kindness he has for others. He'll never like needless violence and won't react if he was being targeted but all bets are off if he even a catches a whiff of plots against Tom. If he has to help hide a body or two in the future so that they won't be separated by something as inconvenient as jail or the law, then that's nobody's business but his own.

P.S. This Harry will probably go to Hufflepuff instead of Slytherin like in other fics. It just feels right. Probably should've drawn him wearing a yellow tie but only just got the idea as I'm typing this. Tom would rather eat slugs than go to the Hufflepuff common room but he's more than willing to entertain Harry at the Slytherin common room at every available chance. They have their own seat there and everything.

P.P.S. They also co adopt a tiny(??) baby snake when they realize they can both speak parseltongue and bring him along to hogwarts. Imagine being parents at the big old age of 10 to a possibly magical snake that may or may not grow past nagini-level size.

P.P.P.S. Future power couple in the making. Didn't think that far ahead whether I wanted Tom to go the political route or Dark Lord Voldemort style minus the horcruxes. Don't ask for me the details, just know that with Harry's help, Tom finds a way to prolong their lives without the consequences that come with using horcruxes. They may or may not discover that Harry is in fact a horcrux of Tom already but will never get the answer as to how it happened. Harry worries but Tom just chocks it up as the universe's way of paying him back for his shtty pre-Harry childhood. Ironically the type to believe in soulmates and destiny while Harry is a bit more skeptical on that front.

Alternatively, they could also decide not to do anything too significant -politically- at all and instead retire to the country side while doing research on as many branches of magic as they can. A bit laughable because of Tom's world altering ambitions and Harry's indulgent, enabling behavior but at the same time, anything's possible.

[harunayuuka2060]

Grandma MC: Please excuse my grandchildren. They are only worried. *chuckles*

Eirian: *smiles softly at her* It's fine with me. Don't worry.

Ace and Deuce: Tch.

Malleus: I don't like this man. This date is over.

Vil: We're going to end it if he does something inappropriate. For now, let's observe.

Rook: Oui! Let's give Monsieur a chance.

Ruggie: I don't understand why Grim gets to be with Granny though. What's he gonna do there? Annoy her suitor?

Ace: Huh? That's why he's there? Dude, the guy already won him over!

*Grim eating the snacks brought by Eirian*

Leona: Is there any surprise to that?

Grandma MC: Anyway, I think we should need to start this conversation. *smiles at him*

Eirian: Yes. As you are already aware of, I'm here to win your heart and with your permission, to be my wife.

Grandma MC: How sweet of you and you seem to be a kind gentleman. However, why would you be interested to an old woman like me?

Grandma MC: I'm sure you have a lot of women chasing after you. *chuckles*

Eirian: Indeed there are. Though I am not and will never be interested to any of them except you.

Eirian: You have captured my heart, my lady. And my feelings have never changed even after fifty years have passed.

Ruggie: Fif—

Ruggie and Ace: FIFTY YEARS?!!

Vil, Rook, and Riddle: *who already knew about the details so they were not shocked but were amused to see others' reaction*

Malleus: *dumbfounded*

Leona: Damn. That was such a long time ago.

Grandma MC: Oh dear... Why would you wait that long?

Azul: *nods* Yeah. I agree. That is a no-brainer.

Kalim: Come on! It's true love!

Jamil: Kalim, can you imagine Granny getting married to a young man who looks like our age? It doesn't matter if he's old, he still looks young.

Kalim: But... Can't he make her younger?

Jamil and Azul: ...

Azul: With all due respect, shut your mouth.

Kalim: Eh?

Jamil: If someone hears you— *sigh*— Just don't speak for the time being, Kalim.

Eirian: I can wait for you even for a thousand years— No. An eternity. The only reason I didn't pursue was because you were married.

Grandma MC: ...

Grandma MC: But I don't remember ever meeting you.

Grandma MC: To be honest, I thought it was my first time arriving here in Twisted Wonderland.

Eirian: *sad frowns* It seems your memories had been erased. Though I can assure you that we had met. I have evidences and the fact that you used to call me 'Rian'.

Grandma MC: My... Well, it does suit you. I'm glad I had given you a beautiful nickname. *chuckles*

Eirian: *blushes*

Ace: *yells* GRANNY!!!! YOU'RE MAKING HIM FALL IN LOVE!

Ace: STOP BEING NICE!

Vil: *kicks him* Who gave you the permission to yell at Granny?

Epel: Yeah! Yell at the guy! Not her!

Rook: Himeringo, that isn't good too.

Malleus: ...

Malleus: I'm ending this date now.

Riddle and Vil: Not yet!

Leona: So who are we really watching over here? You're all a mess.

Eirian and Grandma MC: *have talked for a few hours; mostly Granny listening to him of how they had met*

Eirian: It remained a mystery to me how you had arrived to the underworld and how it became possible for you to befriend the creatures living there.

Eirian: Normally, a human would run away in fear, but you... *smiling* You had held them in your arms like they were adorable and tiny.

Grandma MC: Well, they do sound adorable so I do not see the problem. *chuckles softly*

Eirian: ...

Eirian: *pulls out something from his pocket*

*It was the Sundrop Flower*

Eirian: My lady, I have a present for you.

Grandma MC: What a lovely flower...

Eirian: This flower can bring back your youth.

Eirian: *smiles reassuringly* Don't worry. I won't be asking you to answer me now.

Eirian: I'm giving this to you so you will be able to travel some places here in Twisted Wonderland.

Grandma MC: Why, how kind of you. I shall treasure this gift. *smiles*

Eirian: ...

Eirian: *hugs her*

Epel, Ace, Ruggie, and Deuce: GET YOUR HANDS OFF GRANNY!!!!

Malleus: *ready to cause havoc*

Grandma MC: *chuckles* You must leave now. My grandchildren are angry.

Eirian: I'll see you again.

Riddle: You all are embarrassing.

Leona: Except me. I was totally cool back there.

Vil: What is that flower, Granny?

Grandma MC: Oh, it is a gift from Rian. *smiles*

Idia: Isn't that the Sundrop Flower? Rumored to bring back youth?

Kalim: Bring back youth?

Idia: Yes. But they disappeared from existence years ago.

Azul: Does that mean...

The boys: ...

The boys: USE IT, GRANNY! WE WANT TO SEE!

Grim: Mryah! What's with you all?!

[changisworld]

“you know you want to”

Stepbrother!Jeongin x fem reader

Summary: You & your stepbrother Jeongin have never gotten along, always snitching on one another & purposely annoying each other. When your parents have gone to sleep & you are tiptoeing down the stairs to sneak out of the basement window to get to a college party that you're strict dad won't allow, what are you gonna do when Jeongin catches you?

Word count:4,288

18+ MDNI, smut warnings under the cut

©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.

main masterlist here

SMUT WARNINGS: DUB CON, manipulation/blackmail, Oral (F rec),squirting, unprotected sex, pull out method, edging (F rec), fingering (F rec), finger sucking, Hair pulling, tiny bit of spit??, neck kisses, dirty talk

-> Alcohol is mentioned but not ever consumed.

-> your dad & Jeongins mom are both titled as your parents just to save confusion but you are only related to your father, you & Jeongin aren't blood related.

** Jeongin & reader have a pre established relationship, 80% of this is just smut but depending on how well this does, I'll make a multiple part mini series in a LOOOTT more detail :3**

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

You've just hung up facetime with your friend, Jennie after even further planning on what you're wearing to the party at her boyfriends house later tonight. You've got clothes thrown all over your floor from digging & taking all items worth wearing out of their places before showing them to the camera, getting her opinion on each piece & even having her call dibs on wearing a certain something.

You sigh before you swing open your bedroom door to go downstairs to go make yourself something to eat before you begin to get ready, but you're not happy with the sight in front of you, that being your step brother, Jeongin, giving you his cheeky smile, hair drooping down his forehead.

"What the fuck are you doing standing in my doorway, weirdo, move." you groan, pushing his shoulder but not with much strength behind it, letting him chuckle.

"Where ya going? Does your dad n my mom know, hmm?" he teases, following right beside you as you begin walking down the stairs, looking at the side of your face as you scoff.

"Are you eavesdropping on my conversations? Fuck off Jeongin, I'm not going anywhere, I need to study, so do you for that fact so leave me alone n go get busy." You walk into the kitchen, the guy skipping & humming as he follows you, leaning on the counter top as he watches you pour some cereal into a bowl but before you're able to get to the fridge, he stands in front of it.

" 'studying' my ass y/n, & I have been studying so shut up. You're a really bad liar, you know that right?" he smirks as he turns around to open the fridge & give you the milk.. well, lack thereof. "I drank some earlier n haven't told mom to get more, whoopsies." He walks out of the kitchen happy as a rainbow as you groan & throw the empty milk carton on the floor, yelling at Jeongin as you hear him running up the stairs.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

You have your music playing quietly so your parents don't awaken as you're doing your makeup, humming along to the song as you finish applying a pretty blue/silverish shimmer shade across the inner part of your eyelids, making them stand out. You finish doing your hair & go through the few outfit options you managed to choose between the other thirty at the beginning of the day & you end up holding each of them up to your chest to get a better idea now that you are mostly ready & your mind settles on a blue denim miniskirt along with a black strappy gemstone top.

You put it on & take a few pictures that you'll probably post later before packing your 'escape bag'. You put some sweat pants over your skirt & a hoodie over your top before putting your black clutch & your alcohol wrapped in a shirt to stop the clanking noise in a backpack before you pick up your shoes, turning off your bedroom lights & extremely slowly closing your bedroom door, making sure to be as quiet as possible.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

You hold your breath as you begin tiptoeing down the long hallway, not being able to lightly sigh as you get past your parents silent bedroom, hearing your dad snoring inside, knowing the first part of the difficulty is over with.

You can hear Jeongins TV's low volume further down the hall & you feel a pit in your stomach growing, knowing he is still awake. You pause your steps for a minute, hearing no further movements or rustling coming from behind his door, so you progress.

You get past his door & you can't help but feel a cold sweat on the back of your neck, 'no matter how much I do this shit it never gets easier' you think to yourself. You get to the bottom of the stairs eventually & walk past all other rooms until you get to the door that leads to the basement.

You open the small cabinet next to the door & get the key before putting it in the door & turning it. You turn the door knob but it's now locked.. & your parents never leave it unlocked. Your stomach butterflies return as you use the key again, the door now being able to open.

You don't have much time to think about it however, as your light brown haired stepbrother appears from the basement. "Told you you are bad at lying, what you doing so late?" he whispers, letting out an overdramatic sigh as he grabs your wrist to snatch the key out of your hand, ushering you away from the doorframe as he slowly closes the door, not looking away from you.

"Jeongin, cmon. Just move." you whisper back, attitude in you voice as he somehow leads you into the living room, you still walking backwards. "N why would I, you lied to me, broke my huge heart." he remarks as he leans over your shoulder to try take your bag off your shoulder. You go back & forth, pulling & tugging on it before he overpowers you & now has the backpack in his hands. You are quick to try snatch it back but he pushes you onto the soft sofa behind you. "Ah,ah, ahhh, don't be stupid y/n, might wake 'em up. Why you got shoes in your hands n not wearing them, you really are odd at times."

You give up & throw the shoes onto the carpeted flooring, knowing you're probably not going anywhere tonight. He pulls out everything in your bag, holding it up to the window, letting the moonlight shine onto your alcohol in order to read it, just to tease you further since he knew what would be in your bag before even getting his hands on it.

He pulls out your clutch bag & an eyebrow raises before looking back at you again, your arms crossed as you frown up at him, the reflection of the moon showing his defined cheekbones that little bit extra. "You have this bag, inside a bag, while looking as if you've just got out of prison.. wha'cha underneath?" He questions, stepping towards you before sitting next to you.

You scoff at his words but he doesn't look away from you, noticing you have perfume on too. You both sit in silence for a second but before you have time to react, Jeongin is grabbing at your hoodie & somehow gets it over your head, the top you are wearing underneath now on show. He scoffs as he looks at you & you push him. "You're genuinely psychotic Jeongin, you caught me for fuck sake, do you really need to go this far? I'm not gonna go anywhere anymore, just give over." you whisper yell at him, irritation in your voice.

He looks into your eyes, his dimples appearing on his cheeks as he quietly chuckles. "I didn't say you couldn't go y/n." he says nonchalantly as he leans fully into the couch, turning his head to look at you. "So.. you're not gonna snitch if I go? bull.shit." you remark but your tone still raises, sounding more hopeful than you were a few minutes ago.

"Well I mean, If I got something in return, I wouldn't" he replies, sitting up again to match your posture, leaning forward a bit, which you notice, but choose to not say anything. "Seriously? What is it you're after? Money? I'll deep clean your car for you? I'll write that stupid essay you keep putting off for you? I'll give you Jennie's number?" you ramble, still making sure to keep your tone down but Jeognin 'shooshes' you anyway. "You're so loud, learn to whisper." He jokes before he shuffles over so his right leg is touching your left one now as he leans in to your ear.

"Like this, & what if I know what I want, but it's not anything you mentioned?" his breath tickles your neck as he whispers which makes you twitch subconsciously. "Just tell me Jeongin, I have places to be, do you wanna come with or something? Is that what this is? Coulda just said you have no friends to invite you out." you whisper back, getting fed up. Jeongin lets out a sigh into your ear before moving away, as you both make eye contact again, Jeongin puts his hand on the back of your head & lean you both in & he kisses you.

Your eyes shoot as wide as plates as his lips move against yours despite yours not doing the same way. You push him by the shoulders & wiggle your head free from the hand against the back of your teeth & you just stare at him, not saying much. Jeongin looks back at you, breathing a bit heavier due to the nerves. You both sit in silence for a minute, a million thoughts racing through your head but that is interrupted as Jeongin throws himself back at you, locking lips with you again.

You flop backwards on the couch as Jeongin puts more of his body weight on you, him holding himself up by putting his arm on the arm of the couch right above your head as he keeps his lips locked with yours & to his surprise & yours, you both realise your lips are moving along with his this time.

"Jeongin what the fuck, we can't be doing this this is just fucked up. Get off." you say in a more serious voice, your hands moving to cross over your chest, trying to create distance between you both despite you could just push him. "Stop acting so innocent y/n, you just kissed me back n besides we aren't blood related, we have only known each other for what, five years? Don't act as if you don't want this." he smirks as he speaks, pushing the bit of hair that is resting weirdly on your face back into its place.

"Jeongin, If you get off me now I won't tel-" You don't finish your sentence as he cuts you off by kissing you again, & you can't help but take a bit of pleasure in how soft his lips are, a light taste of his cherry lip balm transferring onto your own.

Jeongin starts to nibble on your bottom lip every few seconds as his tongue also starts to poke at where your own one is & he eventually worms his tongue inside your mouth, humming as he tastes it.

This continues for a minute or so before he breaks it off, spit coating both of your lips & your bottom lip a bit swollen & reddened from his teeth attacking it as he begins a trail of kisses down your jawline & landing on your neck, biting at it, making you hold back a whimper.

"Jeongin, plea-" "shhh y/n, just enjoy it, I'll make this wayyy better than going out, promise." he snaps back, interrupting you as he wiggles his way down further, kissing your collarbone & chest as he begins to shimmy your sweatpants down with his free hand & you have no idea why but you help him by raising your hips, letting them slide off your pretty legs.

He looks down after giving one last kiss to your collarbones after feeling a rough fabric that is no longer hidden by the joggers. "Ahh, you really did dress up hmm? Atleast the pretty outfit isn't gonna go to waste since someone's seen it now. Were you planning on fucking someone y/nnie?" he questions as his long fingers trace over your denim skirt, making you flinch & squirm.

"Jeongin what if someone catches us, you're being stupid." you respond, avoiding his question completely, your voice now soft despite your voice never being above a whisper at all. Jeongin rolls his eyes as he reaches down that little bit further & lands a quick flick to your covered core, making you jolt, eyebrows furrowing as you look back up at him. "Just be quiet n we will be fine, answer my question." he puts his hand up to your face & squishes your cheeks as he makes you look fully at him, both of you making eye contact as his other hand is now playing with the skin on the inside of your thigh, making your hips move on their own, seeking more. "No,Jeongin, I wasn't." he hums at your reply as he shuffles down so he is no face level with your lower stomach as he gives it a few kisses before undoing the button on your miniskirt before also removing hat item of clothing, Now being only left in your thong & black top despite Jeongin still wearing his grey sweatpants & white tank top.

"That's what I wanted to hear but for some reason, I don't believe it y/nnieee, nobody would dress like this & sneak out if you weren't after cock." Your cheeks are as red as cherries as he suddenly sits up on his knees long enough to take his shirt off to show his chiselled, defined, gorgeous abs which you have to try force yourself to look away to try save whatever self preservation you're trying to convince yourself you still have.

Jeongin resumes his place on your lower tummy as one hand is now playing with the hem of your sparkly top as his other hand begins to play with your covered cunt, which unsurprisingly has a small wet patch which is now transferring onto his fingers, despite you trying your hardest to not be turned on from the current situation. "Someone's enjoying this more than they're letting on, No need to be completely mute jagi, just remember who's upstairs." he says, more to himself than anything but you huff at his words anyway, embarrassment radiating through your body, partially from his words, & partially from how turned on you actually are.

He continues lightly dragging his long fingers along your folds, causing your panties to be dampened even more as his other hands fingers dig their way under your shirts fabric & grabs onto your nipple which makes you arch your back on instinct. He begins to lightly pull on your nipple, flicking it with his thumb as he continues kissing your lower stomach, his soft hair tickling it.

His kisses get lower & lower until his lips hit the hem of your panties & you don't put up a fight as he now discards that too. He moves his hand from your left nipple as he wraps his arms around your legs as he is now face level with your dripping core. "Be good n keep your legs open for me, mkay? Stay quiet f'me." He says in a low tone, voice sounding flushed out despite it being you being touched, not him. You have no words that even come to mind to create a response, you just sigh as you cross your arms over your eyes, trying to not focus on your step brothers breath hitting your naked heat.

Jeongin takes this as enough of an answer & licks a long, slow strip up your entire core, which in return makes you hiss at the contact. He wastes no time in digging into your cunt like a man starved as he uses two fingers to spread your folds as he begins slurping on it before switching & nibbling on your swollen button, making you bite down on your lip painfully to hold back as much noise as possible.

He snakes his arm up your frame until he taps two fingers against your lips & you immediately open your lips, letting his fingers now rest on your tongue as you begin sucking on them, using them to help swallow your moans. The room has slurping & hisses filling the room, a mix of your own juice & also his own spit dripping down past your cunt & his chin onto the couch below.

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, much to your dismay as but that is short lived as he worms his now spit covered fingers into your pussy & begins scissoring them & he lets out a quiet groan as he has now gotten a feeling of your wet walls as you instantly clench down on his long fingers which you're convinced are grazing your cervix. He wriggles his fingers around slightly until he finds your G-spot before attacking it with them & you begin squirming around as much as you can with heavy breaths despite his arms still being wrapped around your legs, preventing you from moving freely.

He keeps suckling & slurping on your clit as he is finger fucking you & you begin clenching down a lot more than you were a minute ago. "Jeo- g'na cum- plea-" Your words die in your throat as he struggles but manages to pull himself completely away from your cunt, watching you with a smirk as your eyes are watery, stress & agitation on your face from feeling your orgasm drifting away from your lower stomach as your own juice drips down his chin, giving it a shine that you can make out now that your eyes have adjusted to the dark.

"You really think I'd let you cum on my fingers when I don't know how much you can take, hunny? You can cum on my dick this time, just till I see how well you can take me." He gives you a kiss on your thighs before now using this chance to take his sweatpants & also boxers, leaving him now completely nude as his words sink in & you can't help but think & hope this happens again..?

He helps flip you around before bending you over the arm of the couch, your pretty ass on show for him. He spreads your legs enough so he can fit between them before letting spit drip from his lips, landing directly on his cock as he pumps it in his hand. You turn your head to at least get a look of what exactly you are getting yourself into & you almost regret that choice because you genuinely have no idea how the fuck you're going to be able to handle it. His cock is longer than it is thick but it curves upwards which you now both know will be your G-spots best friend within the following minutes.

Jeongin realises your reaction & can't help but chuckle. "You scared you won't be able to take it y/n? where's that cocky, bitchy personality now disappeared to hmm?" he questions, cockiness in his voice as he begins running his leaky cock head along your folds, making him hold back a groan. "Just, ugh, just put it in Jeongin, Don't be a dick." you try to say with venom, but just ends up sounding needy, which Jeongin laughs at. "Say please & I'll happily give you it." he replies, leaning forward to kiss your shoulder, eyes looking at the side of your flushed out face.

You take a deep breath but don't budge & Jeongin isn't happy with that so he sits back up on his knees as he wraps his long hand into your hair before pulling your hair so now you're looking at him upside down, your back arching. "Say. Please." he repeats, voice sounding way more serious the second time around. Your eyes water from the burn on your scalp but you can't deny how needy you actually are & before you can think for a moment, you're throwing your ego out of the window. "Jeongin, p-please just put it in, want it., want your cock." you murmur, trying to be aware of where you both currently are.. completely naked. He is happy with this & lets go of your hair, making you flop forwards as he lines himself fully up with you, before finally sliding inside.

Your legs almost give out from just the pleasure of him filling you out alone but you somehow keep yourself up. You both let out a whine, his being louder since he hasn't got the edge of the couch to smother his face in to shut himself up. He oh so kindly lets you adjust for around thirty seconds, you both sitting in silence other than the heavy breaths & the sound of the living room clock ticking away in the backround.

"So tight, holy shit y/n. Gonna move now, alright.?" He asks but doesn't actually give you any time to respond before he is withdrawing his hips before returning to where they just were, then repeating it.

He picks up his pace, his hips connecting with your ass as his hands find their place on your hips, helping you now meet his thrusts. You are muffling your whines & squeals by biting down onto the fabric of the couch, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your gummy walls are being ruined by the fluffy haired man behind you.

You find the strength to lift your head up off the couch to mutter out a few incoherent words Jeongins fucked out brain can't completely understand, He keeps chasing his own release, throwing his head towards the ceiling & panting until he feels you clenching so tight he thinks his cock can turn purple.

"Gonna cum for m-me y/n? Squeezing me so tight, g-gonna kill me. You're s-so fucking wet." Your moans encourages him to pick up the pace even more than he already is, his great stamina being something he is thankful for in this moment. He admires the squelching noises coming from your cunt & he thinks he can honestly melt from pleasure. "Jeon-in f-fuck, t-too-so big." you whine, trying to keep as quiet as possible but can't help the noises you're letting out, his cock pushing your cervix into a completely new place inside you.

"Yeah? Taking it so well for m-me, so beau-hot." He cuts himself off, trying to not say such nice words, since that is the imaginary line he is trying to draw for himself, despite not wanting to.

Your legs begin to shake again & you try to warn Jeongin you're about to cum, but it's no use since you're so fucked out you're convinced your brain has completely melted. You feel it bubble up & then over as your orgasm sprays out of your pussy & lands onto your own thighs, Jeongins cock, trimmed pubes & also the couch beneath you.

Jeongin watches this & he tries to hold out until you at least start to come off your orgasm so it isn't completely ruined before he pulls out as his own orgasm is only a second away & pumps his cock at an extreme pace before his own orgasm shoots out of him, landing onto your ass & back, a few drops landing on the one item of clothing that somehow didn't come off.

Your legs have already given out & you are now just awkwardly arched on the edge of the sofa, trying to catch your breath back. Jeongin pants & pushes his now wet with sweat hair out of his pretty face before he stands up on his own shaky legs & puts his hands on your legs gently before pulling you, so you're now laying fully flat on your back.

You both don't exchange words but Jeongin takes it upon himself to grab his tank top to wipe his orgasm off of you, which you appreciate deep down. "I'll get you some water, I would say sit tight but you can't move anyways dick's too good huh." he teases as he is still panting, kissing leaning down to kiss your lower back. You just 'tut' at his words.

He returns with three glasses, you can see one has a dark liquid in it & you think the other two are water. "Why the third glass, the hell is that.?" you mumble, only now actually returning fully to earth. "Well you squirted all over the damn couch in case you didn't realise & it's one in the morning, I can't be fucked to clean that n I know you can't, just gonna pour cola on the spot since our parents drank vodka coke earlier, they'll probably just believe it." He pants out before chugging his own cup of water then remembering to give you your own drink. You let out a giggle as you force yourself to sit up enough so you can drink the water that you didn't realise how much you actually needed a drink until you take a sip then you suddenly have the driest mouth on earth.

He helps you gather your clothes (after letting you whisper yell at him for getting cum on your shirt) & he helps you tiptoe up stairs along with him. "We never speak of this again Jeongin, I swear to god." you whisper outside his bedroom door, his TV still playing from earlier. "mhmm, If you say so, sleep well." he snarkily replies before closing his own bedroom door, before taking his phone off his desk & going onto the message app.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

Jeongin: It actually worked lmaoo

Jennie: Told ya, u just needed to test her limits lol

Jeongin: ahaha, was worth the risk, thx jen

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

Jeongin can't help but blush slightly as he shuts his phone off & just looks around his clean bedroom, realising what he did & how easy it was, which he is definitely keeping in mind.

[gamma-radio]

I hate when people play phone audio out loud in public spaces. The screechy quality of phone speakers, the disregard for literally anyone's auditory comfort, my poor autistic ears — I rage mode.

I know I'm not alone, so I am going to share my flawless embarrassment-free technique to get them to stop.

1) Carry a pair of earbuds on you. Not required, but it helps give you the confidence to actually confront them

2) walk up to them and be as nice as possible, no matter how mad you are. However, do not explain yourself or apologize, just make a simple request: "Hi, would you mind using earbuds for that?" (You're not asking them to stop, just change their method)

3a) 90% of the time they will shamefully put their phone away, and because you were so nice, they aren't even mad at you!! Then you can thank them for being so thoughtful, and maybe compliment their shirt or something! Everybody loves compliments.

3b) Alternatively, they might say, "I don't have earbuds." Normally, this would put you in an awkward situation, but You aren't normal. You are Prepared.

OFFER THE EARBUDS: "That's okay," you say, "you can borrow mine!" dazzling smile, you are so nice and thoughtful, what a great guy you are

Don't worry about losing your earbuds (or if you don't actually have earbuds), because they won't accept your offer. THEN they will put their phone away of their own free will. You never even had to ask.

If you want a detailed explanation of why this works (for the autistic besties, I see u):

People don't like it when you tell them what to do, especially if that request is to stop doing their activity in any shape or form. It pisses them off, and rightfully so! No one wants to be controlled.

That's why this method is so good: you never asked them to stop their activity, you asked them to make a small change to how they are doing the activity, which is far less obtrusive.

This works for lots of things, and lots of people. Imagine being a kid, goofing around, and someone says, "Stop doing that." Upsetting! Compared to: "Would you mind being quieter?" Because really, the issue is not that you are goofing around, the issue is that you are being loud and disruptive about it.

Same goes for the stranger on their phone in public. It's totally fine that they're watching a video, the problem is that they're being disruptive, and chances are they know that being disruptive is rude.

The second half of why this works is offering the earbuds.

When you ask them to change how they're doing their activity, you are placing a burden on them. If they have a pair already, it is a very tiny burden. If they don't have a pair, it is suddenly an insurmountable burden, and that's very uncomfortable. In fact, it's so uncomfortable that by making the request, you might become the bad guy in the situation (according to them) even if you're being nice, and even if they're in the wrong.

That's why you offer the earbuds. Now you are actively helping them by alleviating the burden. You are being kind and thoughtful instead of demanding!

Sure, they might think you're a little weird, because it's not part of the social script, but they've got no ground to be mad at you.

Which brings up the last point: offering to lend your earbuds isn't part of the social script. It's surprising, and so their default reaction is to avoid that path: they will decline your offer. So, you don't have to worry about a stranger wearing your earbuds with their gross stranger ears.

So that's the whole idea behind the method. Confrontation that is respectful and thoughtful of their autonomy and your comfort all at the same time. ~social engineering for good~

[just-some-trans-nobody]

Orc boyfriend head canons

Warnings: mentions of sex, swearing, mentions of war, mentions of hunting, brief mention of blood.

Minors Don't Interact!

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Big scary orc boyfriend whose taken down dire wolves with his bare hands terrified by a little mouse. His tiny human lover has to catch the mouse and put it outside while he freaks out.

He'll give you all the kisses in the world after that praising you for being so brave.

May or may not give thanks by burying his face between your legs for a few hours.

He likes bring you back his trophys of war and hunting, he knows he doesn't have anything to prove but he still likes showing off to you.

Loves rubbing his tusks against you while cuddling in bed. Heart eyes and smitten if you kiss his tusks.

Would die on the spot if he saw you wearing only pelts from animals he killed. Run back to that bed or else your getting railed on the closest surface he can find.

Is ok with doing you in front of all his friends but if your not comfortable with it he won't push the topic at all. He respects your choices

Will try to take you hunting though, mostly so he can show off but it's also a bonding experience for him.

Likes picking you up and puting you on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes with his hand on your ass. He'll walk around your home and even outside if you let him.

He thinks putting a bear pelt down in front of the fire place with a couple of bottles of mead is the most romantic thing in the world and will pull this move any time he feels romantical or if you need a night of pampering.

He also thinks battling side to side covered in your enemy's blood is just as romantic.

Lord this man is bad at reading, he's more a himbo type. Sit on his lap and read out loud to him he will absolutely love it. His arms will wrap around you holding you close as you read to him. Better yet let him use your lap as a pillow while you read to him.

If you have hair long enough please let him brush and braid it he loves it. Do the same to him he finds it intimate and rather romantic.

Oh boy oh boy ask him about his scars and his tattoos, he'll spend hours telling you about them in great details.

In his mind your alredy married but if you explain to him you want a wedding he will be more than happy to listen to how you would want it and try to get as close to that as possible. He's going to go all out for the wedding sex too.

He has a tattoo in honor of you. May have more than one.

Would be so happy if you got a tattoo that had to do with him but wouldn't be disappointed if you didn't.

If you have any pets he treats them like their your children.

Will bread you in hopes of having your kids even if it's impossible for number of reason's. Still fun to pretend.

[navstuffs]

two weeks

Pairing: leon kennedy x gn!reader

Summary: "give me two weeks, you won't recognize her."

Warnings: songfic, SMUT SO MINORS DNI, sort sub!leon, confident reader

Author's Notes: if you know this song, you already know what's coming ;) this fanfic is also an ode to my queen fka twigs (so you can imagine the pressure i felt writing this lol). leon is also very lucky with me; first sade and now fka twigs? he is a lucky motherfucker man. enjoy your reading!

my leon's masterlist

"I know it hurts, you know I'd quench that thirst

(I can treat you better than her)

You say you're lonely, I say you'll think about it"

Like most things in your life, it doesn't start the "right" way. Yes, there is a date, but never a proper second or maybe third date, then a kiss. And at a particular stage of life, you didn't think you could seduce or date anyone. Even more so, your partner and friend Leon S. Kennedy. You had lost your touch or never really had one. And he was clearly in love with somebody else.

You had to hear about it occasionally if you decided to join him to drink. It bothered you more than it should, but you could do nothing about it.

And Leon Kennedy had the tendency to only "flirt" as a joke, anyway. 

The smiles, the flirty smiles in your direction. They started here and there, just a tiny detail you didn't think much of, figuring it was just Leon being Leon. Then, the flirting. As if you could call it flirting, the man straight invited you to dinner after you two almost died in the hands of a B.O.W.

Leon's priceless face, when you accept it, makes everything almost all worth it.

"Higher than a motherfucker, dreaming of you as my lover

Flying like a streamer, thinking of new ways to do each other"

Leon is unsure during dinner. You watch his eyes wander around the restaurant, never looking straight at your face. The menu has confusing names with food you have never heard of. Leon had chosen a fancy place he clearly never went, and also somewhere he wasn't comfortable. 

Later, after eating what you think was a snail with a weird tomato, you question why he brought you here. Leon mumbles he never thought you would accept it.

"Why?"

"I guess because you know...my situation."

"I know it hurts, you know I'd put you first

(I can fuck you better than her)"

Ada Wong? Oh, you knew their situation pretty well. You have heard more than once, actually: she and Leon seem to be connected to each other with a certain tension that never seems to die down over the years. This doesn't frighten you; you never ran away from a challenge. You preferred the harder ones anyway.

You wouldn't be stealing Leon from her since he was never his. And even if he was, it didn't matter.

"It doesn't really matter," You conclude, finishing your drink.

"Why not?"

"Because you could be mine at the end. We can't risk that."

The smile Leon gives you is all the answer you need.

"Feel your body closing, I can rip it open

Suck me up, I'm healing for the shit you're dealing"

You are bad, Leon realizes, really bad. It is the way you make him feel pleasure, the way look at him, fierce and daring, as if he is the only one for you. It makes him feel special, unique, like Ada never could. Not because she didn't want to but.

"Hey, eyes on me, Leon."

Your authoritative voice calls him back, and Leon feels a chill. He had only seen you concentrated like this during missions. Looking deadly and calm, Leon Kennedy is your target now. Leon shouldn't have invited you to his apartment, but he was curious. Curious to see how further you could actually go.

How you would make him yours.

It could be enough, Leon thinks, his hand pushing your head down into his hard cock. He likes to watch you suffocate and how good your lips are around his dick, your mouth wet and slippery, perfect for him.

After falling into bed, exhausted, Leon confesses, his face hidden by his sweaty hair.

"This...could work."

You smirk back. You could work with that.

"Smoke on your skin to get those pretty eyes rolling

My thighs are apart for when you're ready to breathe in"

You don't call Leon the next day. Or the other. He calls you on Monday night after a full day of behaving like nothing happened during the weekend as if you two remained just good co-workers.

He comes by your house, and you imagine he will want to finish everything. It would be typical of Leon to get afraid if someone got too close. Leon would apologize and argue it was all a mistake. His kiss as soon as you open the door silences your internal doubts. Leon Kennedy is there, and he wants you.

You take him to your bedroom, clothes falling on the way, and you ignore the little emotion you have when he looks so vulnerable under your palms. You suck him again because Leon Kennedy asks for it. It seems someone has gotten addicted to your mouth. 

"So good. Fuck."

You let him moan and tremble in your bed. A bed that you often imagined you would, one day, have Leon for yourself, just for you. His moans fill up the room, and you suspect you will never be able to sleep again without thinking about it.

"Suck me up, I'm healing for the shit you're dealing

High motherfucker, get your mouth open, you know you're mine"

You are at his house now, almost two weeks since this started. Leon has you under him, back against the mattress, legs spread apart. You look a mess, and he loves it. His hands rub your chest, giving your nipple a good squeeze, focusing on moving his hips against you. The way you liked. Oh yeah, Leon Kennedy, in less than two freaking weeks, knows precisely where to hit.

"Shit." He groans, his mouth open with his eyes semi-closed.

He looks sinful. If there was ever some God of sex around or a demon, Leon would be one of his forms used to seduce people. And he is trembling, shaking, panting because of you.

"Leon."

You must remind him to bring himself back and stop teasing you. He looks at you, and his blue eyes darken.

"What do you want? What do you need? You gotta tell me."

Oh, Leon, you think smiling. Still naive about whom exactly was in control there. He forgets sometimes you are as trained as he is. Taking him by surprise, you shift positions, sitting on top of him. Leon's dick goes further inside you, making you both groan.

"You forget Leon, I don't have much patience."

You watch as Leon Kennedy simply collapses in front of your eyes. It had been like this every night you had been together, Leon's expression changing to pure bliss. You think it was nice seeing him like this as you gently grab his face.

"Come on, you know what to do by now."

Leon licks his lips, moaning your name. He raises his hips up with ease, starting to meet your thrusts. You smile, victorious. After you both cum, bodies trembling, you can feel Leon examining your face as his warm hand rubs your cheek gently.

"We could do this if you still want me."

It is adorable how unsure he is still with himself, although his dick was buried deep inside you. As if you hadn't been banging your brains like crazy those last two weeks. But it is the first time he has been truly open.

You lick your lips, whispering.

"I know you aren't mine yet, but..."

"I want to be."

You look into his eyes, looking for any trace of insecurity from Leon. There was none, just the heavy stare of his confession. Leon reminded you of a younger version of himself, one you saw in a picture, his big blue eyes anxious and his face watching you. You knew you were in danger territory now: Leon was letting you in. 

"We could do this" Your voice sounds vulnerable and different from earlier. More emotional "It will be slow. We will take our time. No rush."

"Yes."

Leon Kennedy opens a smile that has you hide your face on his neck. You want more, much more, but for now, this is enough.

[enkas-illusion]

Double Trouble

Fandom / Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen / Gojo Satoru x f!reader

Rating: SFW

Genre/Theme: Established relationship; non-sorcery au

Content warning: fluff, suggestive, no smut, language.

Summary: Boyfriend!Satoru with a twin and they're exact copies of each other, down to their mannerism so they often switch places just to test how long it takes for you to figure out you're talking to the other one.

Author's Note: The one where he isn’t the only Honoured one. I hope you enjoy this one shot. Thank you for reading! 

~ Eren’s Birdie

Song Dedication: Say Yes by Loco, Punch

Satoru Gojo was everything you could've asked for in a partner. He was kind, funny, intelligent, sexy, and had better emotional maturity than most men despite being somewhat of a nihilist in his own way – perfect was the word to describe him.

The only problem was that he was a bit too much to handle at times, or dare one say, a bit *too many, – meaning his mother gave birth to him and thought ‘he's perfect!’ so she popped another xerox copy 2 minutes later.

And thus were born Satoru and Soichiro, the most identical twins in the history of twins. The two not only shared the same face but had gained quite some notoriety among friends and family for sharing the same brain cell as well. 

While you had no reason to complain about their flawless personalities, they'd taken a liking to mess with you each time they got together. One would think they'd go easy with the pranks if it's someone they love, right? Wrong! It meant the shit you had to endure was way worse than any other normal friend would have to.

On one such instance, Soichiro tagged along with Satoru after work and it wasn't until halfway through dinner that your instinct went off and you figured out it was the twin who was sitting next to you instead of your boyfriend as usual. Later that night, you'd warned Satoru about it, presenting a solid argument even he couldn't resist.

“You know I almost grabbed his thigh under the table tonight!”

“No, you didn't,” Satoru scoffed.

“Okay, maybe not. But it’s highly likely that I could've! Ummm… what if one day you return home and I greet you in some skimpy lingerie but instead of you, it’s your brother who sees me, all titties out???” You were grasping at straws really.

“Will you do that!?” His ears perked up.

“Not the point, Toru…”

“Hmm… okay fine, I won't let it get that far,” he assured you. 

“But you'll still continue to tease me?” You huffed and he nodded his head, smiling innocently. You rolled your eyes at him, complaining about how he was the ‘worst’ while he simply gave you a bear hug and a few kisses to make it up to you.

~~~

So, even after being with Satoru for more than a year, you still did not know how to distinguish between the two. The only people to do so in a split-second were his parents. You had once sat the twins down to compare their faces for any tiny details you might’ve missed but you came up short regardless. 

You could only tell the difference by instinct, after having a conversation with them – maybe you were more delusional than you'd like to admit but to you, Satoru's voice held a lot of love each time he called your name.

In an attempt to distinguish the two, you thought you'd successfully managed to get Satoru to dye his hair black with temporary colour last time you went to their family house, only to find out Soichiro had done the same and was waiting for you, waving his arm at you in the driveway with a victorious grin.

So when you don't find the twin greeting you like a devil inviting you to hell this time, you turn to your boyfriend who's undoing his seatbelt.

“Listen to me, Satoru,” you grab his collar to turn him to look at you as you speak in a serious tone, “Please don't fuck with me this time. One of these days, I might really embarrass myself due to your games.”

“I'm betting on it baby,” he grins as he gives you a quick peck before swiftly making his way out of the car to avoid your scolding. You were going to stay at his parents’ country house for a weekend and you could already tell it was going to be a long weekend.

You sigh as you grab your bag and he opens the door for you before pulling the bag out of your hand and holding his hand out for you. It's impossible to be annoyed at Satoru for long when he pulls shit like this.

When you enter the house, Satoru excuses himself to find his father and you make your way to the backyard garden where you guess his mother might be. You smile to yourself when your guess is right.

“How can I help?” You smile, making his mother turn to look at you. She gently puts the shovel down next to the plants she's depotting.

“Hello dear, you've arrived just in time… would you mind bringing the remaining pots? They’re near the window in the reading room,” she instructs and you nod as you make your way back inside.

You walk the long corridor before you reach your destination, making your way to the window where the pots were placed. You lift two in each hand, holding them with care, trying not to drop them or stain your t-shirt. 

“Need some help?” you hear a voice and turn around to see the other twin at the door. The only reason you can tell it's Soichiro is because he's wearing a grey t-shirt and black sweatpants as opposed to your boyfriend who was wearing a purple hoodie and coal grey pants. 

“Hey Sochi, could you pick the last one?” You motion your head in the direction of the last pot, “Gotta move it to the garden.”

He nods before picking up the pot and walking with you, back to the backyard garden. 

“Did you arrive before us? I didn't see your car in the driveway,” you make conversation along the way.

“My car's out for servicing. I arrived with the mothership yesterday when she was in town shopping,” he explains.

“Hmm…” you nod as you stop near the area where the soil has been rooted out of the ground, “here.” 

You motion to him to keep the pot down and he obeys as he leans down to place them there gently. You're busy looking around to find Mrs. Gojo when you hear him speak, “Anything else, princes–”

Your eyes widen as your head snaps back to look at him.

“SATORU!” you gasp at the nickname that accidentally slips out of your boyfriend's name, making you realise it's not his twin.

“Soichiro! Leave my poor girl alone,” the other blondie walks out wearing the exact same clothes. You look between the two as you stare in disbelief, not being able to tell who's who.

You're about to speak when you hear their mom's voice as she moves closer to you, pressing an arm gently around your shoulder, “Satoru… I'd expect you of all people to be nice to her,” shaking her head at the twin standing next to you.

You were right! The twin next to you is Satoru!

“No, it's okay! The best way to deal with them is to avoid both of them the entire weekend,” you give your boyfriend the fakest smile you can muster up as you walk hand in hand with his mother to fulfil your gardening duties.

As it's the only exact identical matching outfit the twins have, they don't mind wearing it all weekend. As the day progresses, you find yourself working your brain full time to notice any difference you can find, but the guys are relentless to the point where even their sleeves are rolled to the exact same length.

And of course, the whole day is spent the way you’d dreaded and almost predicted it’d be like. Later when you’re out on the porch having coffee and watching the sunset with your boyfriend, you notice Satoru has an insect bite on the side of his wrist.

“Toru?” you question, wanting to make sure you have the right twin next to you.

“Hmm?” he peels his eyes away from the pretty sunset to look at you. 

“Kiss me?” you ask softly.

“Wha– is this a test?” He raises an eyebrow.

“You know what, nevermind… I just felt like it cause this is the first time we’ve been alone all d–” your words are cut off by his lips capturing yours. You smile into the kiss as Satoru cups your face, caressing your cheek.

Satoru check completed! You make a mental note to observe his wrist for the mark each time you interact with the twins.

After dinner when everyone's lazing around in the living room and watching whatever reality tv show is playing in the background, you excuse yourself to go to the washroom. Roaming around, you end up in Satoru's old bedroom. It's endearing seeing how you can still find pieces of his current personality, likes, hobbies and interests in bits, plastered everywhere around his room.

You find yourself craving some alone time with your boyfriend all of a sudden so you pull your phone out to text him to come up to his room. You only have to wait a few minutes before you hear a knock on the door.

“It's open,” you say as you place the book that you were holding back on the shelf. With a big grin, you extend your arm out to him and he takes it.

“Hello, darling,” he says in a playful tone and your eyes briefly glance at his wrist. No mark. It's Soichiro. He pulls you into a hug and pats your head.

Fine. If your boyfriend still wants to mess with you even when you’re needy for him, he's gonna get his payback. You decide at that moment – this switcharoo bullshit stops today.

You smile innocently at Soichiro as you pull away, your hands travel up to his chest to push him back till he falls on the bed.

You hop on top of him to straddle him but are careful enough to not actually make any sort of inappropriate contact, hovering above without closing the gap between your bodies. You simply wanted to push him enough to get him uncomfortable and to confess.

You can see the nervousness on his face as he clears his throat to come up with an excuse to get out of this situation without making it awkward, “T-the door’s open, let me–”

“It’s just us Toru… I doubt anyone’s gonna bother coming up to find us anyway,” you purr as you lean your body forward, placing your palms on the sides of his head to support your weight. You start feeling anxious too, you need him to break soon or you’d have to abandon the act, so you persist and whisper in his ear, “You look so sexy, I’ve been wanting to feel you inside me all day, Satoru.”

You cringe internally at your own words. But in that moment, you can see his face get paler than it usually is and you want to laugh at how nervous he looks when he hits his limit at your lewd comments.

“Wait, I’m no–” Soichiro pushes you by the shoulders as he begins in panic, another voice interrupts, pushing the half-open door forcefully, “Baby, wait!”

You feel a large arm hook around your waist to pull you away. As you stumble to your feet, breaking free from his hold, you turn around to see an annoyed Satoru, knitting his eyebrows as he looks at you. He looks more annoyed at himself than at you.

“Satoru?” you question as you bring up a hand to his cheek.

“Yes, baby?” he asks in that loving tone you’re so used to as he wraps his arms around your waist tighter.

You smile as you caress his cheek, trying hard to hold in your laughter, “What… A… Dumbass!”

You burst out laughing as you break free from his embrace and he stares at you in disbelief. You look from him to Soichiro, who’s already stood up from the bed as you hold your stomach, hurting from laughing so much, “That should teach you both!”

“Well then, I’m gonna go watch tv with the only two sensible people in this house,” you wave the baffled twins goodbye and turn around to leave the room. The very next second, you’re taken by surprise when you feel a hand grab your wrist to keep you from moving.

You turn around to see that your boyfriend seems… mad at you?

“Sochi, do you mind? I wanna talk to her alone,” Satoru motions his brother to leave the room.

“Yikes, just keep it quiet,” the twin chuckles in embarrassment as he walks out hastily. You hear the door close behind you before footsteps recede down the hallway.

You look at Satoru, expecting him to speak up. But your boyfriend simply grabs both of your wrists before twisting them behind your back and closes the distance between your bodies.

“Waitttt… is this Toru or Sochi? It is impossible to tell!” your words are dry and sarcastic as you giggle at him.

“Baby, I don’t think you’re in a position to be laughing at me right now,” he towers over you, his grip on your waists tightening.

“But here we are! I told you not to mess with me,” you chuckle as you try to wriggle your wrists out of his grip.

“And I’ve warned you not to press my buttons… or do I need to remind you again?” he grunts as he flips you around, walking you to the bed till your knees hit the edge of the bed, making you stumble on the mattress with him behind you. He brings a hand to the back of your head to press your face down into the mattress and you take this opportunity to try to hold him. He tsks at your movement before moving away from your completely.

You flip your body around to lie on your back and see what’s going on, only to find him rummaging through his closet. When Satoru turns around to walk back towards the bed, you notice two ties in his hands. 

This isn’t how you’d expected your little prank to turn out but you definitely weren’t complaining. However, just as Satoru straddles you, grabbing your wrists, his phone buzzes in his pocket.

“What?” he groans into the speaker.

“Mum’s calling you both downstairs,” you hear Soichiro’s voice on the other end.

You press your lips together to keep yourself from laughing as Satoru groans once again before cutting the call with a ‘be right there’.

“I think god sent a guardian angel disguised as your mom for me,” you chuckle as you sit up, making your way out from under him.

“You’re lucky,” Satoru grabs your jaw, “but don’t get ahead of yourself, guardian angel can't save you past her bedtime.”

You poke your tongue out to tease him, breaking free and springing out of the bed, mumbling a ‘whatever’, walking out towards the living room. 

As you make your way back down the hall, you hear your boyfriend’s footsteps behind you. You smile to yourself as you begin to brew different ideas of riling him up further throughout the night.

~fin~

[barblaz-arts]

sorry, I'm super obsessed with the pokémon AU, and I know you're done with it and probably won't even notice this ask, or care about it, but I have very little self control to stop myself posting my stupid thoughts so:

I just noticed that in this picture Enid is wearing one of wenesday's (pin/clip/something)s on her hat, and wednesday has let Enid dye the tip of her hair pink, and oh my gosh, I'm just so obsessed.

Thank you for noticing that! I'm not sure most people did. But yeh that tiny detail was the very reason why I had Wednesday and Enid have that thing with giving brooches or dyeing tails(or a pigTAIL in Wednesday's case badumtss) of their pokemon in the first place. It's meant to have happened probably after they've beaten all the gym leaders before going up against the Elite 4 and the champions.

[howabhwmwn]

Since this scene won't leave me alone I've decided to make it everybody else's problem too.

Let's look at cinematography!

All these extreme close-ups clearly showing how focused Howard is on his task, showing it's important to him. Look at how many seconds they actually use just to show Howard making Cheryl a Latte. Compare that to the way he makes his tea later on, while talking to Cheryl, no focus on him, or the tea or anything. Because that's not important. Giving Cheryl something nice that he spend time on is, though.

Enter Cheryl. Look at how they move into an extreme wide shot almost immediately (there is one medium shot to establish where Howard is, but that's for orientation for the viewer). Suddenly, the scene feels a lot less personal - it's cold. (the music cuts here too, leaving us in complete uncomfortable silence)

I'm completely insane about the literal wall between Howard and Cheryl.

Then, Cheryl walks around Howard to the far end of the table, putting as much space between them as possible. Quite the good way of showing how removed they are from each other, but watch this:

While talking, they are still in Medium Wide Shots, not on the screen together. Look at how far away they are from the camera, and on different sides of it. This makes the distance between them seem even more huge. I can't explain how much I'm obsessed with these two shots. They're so far removed from the other, they really put care into this scene, in how much space between Howard and Cheryl is.

Howard then walks over to Cheryl (or rather the camera), and places the Latte on the table, but he still stays on his side of the camera. Look at how it's a Detail Shot, a close-up now! Which makes us recall the care he put into it, the effort, the focus. The warm beautiful scene with the nice music.

In the next shot you can also see how far he is still away from Cheryl. He didn't even place the cup in front of her:

Even when it goes back to Cheryl's side of the camera, we only see Howard in her shot for a very short time. He places down the Latte, and immediately gets out of her shot, almost like he can't be close to her. Because he can't, physically, emotionally, their relationship isn't like this anymore.

She waits until he is at his place of the side of the camera before she moves, not mentioning the cup, or the art on it (except a short 'thanks') which Howard obviously made to get some kind of reaction. A conversation starter, a smile, anything. Look at his face when she just abandons it. Sure, physically, she's closer to him now, but at this moment, he is the cup of Latte that she just abandoned, because he put so much focus in it. It's a sign of his care for her.

He makes tea for himself here, and it's completely different from how he made her Latte. I'm losing my mind with how he makes it so carelessly while the Latte he put so much care in gets abandoned this carelessly.

Cheryl does not have time for a Latte. Howard probably thought making it would keep her with him a bit longer, and they could talk a bit. Maybe get a nice morning conversation that resembles at least a tiny bit the talks they had when their relationship wasn't this faded. But his hope gets destroyed, just as the art on the Latte gets destroyed.

She brings the cup back to where it belongs to, near Howard, basically returning this chance to talk, his care and focus, back to him, because she doesn't want it. And then she flees his side again, just as he put the distance between them earlier. Never staying too close to each other.

She declines his suggestion to go to the fundraiser together. He turns away, gets farther away from her. Even while they are back in one shot together, they're so far away. So much distance. Then, close-up on Howard's sad sad face. :( It's over. But then he realizes he can keep the conversation going: Jimmy. He needs to tell her about Jimmy!

And while he reveals this thing about his life, something real, something personal, finally there is a close-up of them both. This is normal for the viewer. This is how dialogues are usually shot. Can it be that Cheryl cares? Finally, they will have a real conversation. Maybe she will even show that she cares about Howard, is scared for him, will ask him if he is okay?!

No. She dismisses it. Removes the tiny bit of her that was in his side of the camera and leaves him alone in his shot.

She goes, and we get an almost identical shot to the first one. A wall between them. Nothing changed.

Howard gets left behind in this extreme wide shot. Alone. A tiny blue dot in a huge crème coloured house where he has no place anymore.