#{Don't make me go on a block spree-

[hells-sirenqueen]

{Yeaaah..the Lilith hate is getting a bit much. I'm gonna need to start to blocking tags on here. May end up censoring art that some of my mutuals post but if it keeps hate for Lilith (like threatening hate that people have desires to unalive the character) yeaah..that's gonna be a no for me fam. I get enough drama via rp from random @s by Adams who hate Lilith or Lucifers who hate their "ex wife". I'd rather not deal with that bs.

I've been meaning to write a post for my own hcs with why Lilith left Eden and her being traumatized by her former relationship with Adam but ain't no one want to see that shit.

Just know if there is any actual hate towards my muse, I'm not afraid to use the block button.

[aethiriarts]

I'm just gonna start blocking bitches who post spoilers untagged left and right cause if I see one more Shadow Gens spoiler (EVEN IN THE FORM OF FANART) I'm gonna GHhghghghGHGHGHGHFHRERARRRRGGEGGARRRRER

[troublcmakcrs]

//i respect literally no one on tumblr except my mutuals on this blog specifically i'm so serious

[the-whispers-of-death]

Am I tempted to just make my entire blog MDNI? Yes.

Did I already have this temptation and decide to make a sideblog that has now been neglected? Yes.

Is the sideblog being neglected the reason why I'm considering making my main blog MDNI? Yes.

[somelazyassartist]

.

[moonchildstyles]

élan

élan part one: harry is a bodyguard by trade and y/n would do anything just to be left alone

wordcount: 18.5k+

cw: her dad is really mean tbh!! pls skip parts w him if you are senstive to that kind of thing!

—————

(Y/N) fought to keep her eyes focused in the dark of her father's office. The longer she sat there, listening to the shout of his voice, the easier it was to block it out as she waited for it to be over. She stopped listening when he went off on his tangent about how terrible she was (he loved to use the word selfish and anything he could think of to diminish her intelligence). He wasn't very creative anymore, these berating sessions feeling like a necessary task as opposed to a hurtful punishment these days. 

At least the interior designer he brought in last month had moved everything around, leaving his bookshelf behind his desk. This way, she could look over his shoulder and read the titles of his books. She was almost certain he hadn't read a single volume though he most likely told everyone that followed him in, that he had paged through each book more than once. 

"Are you even listening, (Y/N)?"

Perking up at the sound of her name, she nodded on instinct. "Mhm," she hummed absently. 

"What did I just say?" He was unimpressed—disbelieving. 

(Y/N) stayed silent. 

A heavy sigh fell from her father's lips. His eyes dimmed fro the angry fire she'd spotted before, leveling to disappointed embers the longer he looked at her. 

"This is what I mean, (Y/N)," he continued, harshly spitting out her name, "You don't care. Never have you thought about the consequences to your actions. You're too selfish to think of anyone but yourself!" The blaze sparked up once more as he flicked his gaze to the glossy tabloid splayed across his desk. "Can you even comprehend what this"—he gritted out the word, tapping his finger against the photo—"means for me? My investors are going to have my ass only Monday because you don't know how to control yourself for five minutes." 

She squirmed in her spot. Her gaze stayed locked on the tabloid cover. She was pictured with bitter features, her brows twisted in anger and eyes were ablaze. Her hand was outstretched as she dumped a full glass of rosé on Damien Moore's perfect, blonde head. Several angles were posted, documenting her gaped lips as she spat out venomous words while Damien looked on with seemingly innocent, wide blue eyes. The last in the series showed her walking out with the wine dripping down his features as he looked on in shock. A bold headline said: "Whore-mones or Another Drunken Rage?" 

(Y/N) swallowed as she took the scene in. 

Perfectly manicured nails clashed in her lap, the edges of her acrylics being worn dull from the restless ministrations. 

"Do you want me to fail?" her father prodded, unsatisfied with her silence. 

"It's not what it looks like—," she floundered, unable to keep her feelings out of it after looking at those photos, "He—Damien—" 

"It does not matter what happened, (Y/N)! This is what it looks like and that is what people are going to believe and what they are going to care about!" He seethed as he looked at her, (Y/N) unsurprised. "You're going to make us lose everything if you keep this up, do you understand that? Your apartment, everything you have in Paris, your stupid shopping sprees—you'll actually have to work if you want any of that. Did you think of any of that?" 

His harsh words slipped around her, filling every breath of air she pulled into her lungs. Any fight she had, any want to defend herself or give any kind of explanation, left her in an instant. "No," she answered, resigned. 

"I didn't fucking think so. You never think, anyway." 

(Y/N) just looked over his shoulder. Her gaze didn't shift even as his voice continued on, droning with insults and degrading remarks. 

She hadn't even known she was being photographed that day. There wasn't a single flash or shutter of a camera. The restaurant had even gone out of their way to assure them that no one would be able to slip inside without a reservation or loiter along the sidewalk in wait. 

But, inside sources and photographers always found a way, she supposed. Especially since it wasn't just her, it was her and Damien Moore on something that looked like it could have been a date. Of course paparazzi were going to find a way to get a photo of them together—anything to help fuel the rumors filling gossip pages and social media. 

This particularly source even went so far as to claim they were close enough to overhear the argument that sparked the thrown wine. Supposedly, (Y/N) had been seeing someone behind Damien's back (something that was impossible given the fact she had Damien weren't even talking like that, let alone in an exclusive relationship), and when he confronted her she blew up. She was so hopped up on her "whore-mones" as the headline so eloquently put it, and the obviously unfinished glass of wine, that she just had to throw the drink in his face. 

Because of course it was (Y/N)'s fault. Never could it have anything to do with Damien. He was the sterling Yale grad that came from the perfect family, while she was the "party girl" with divorced parents and a wild past. It was always going to be her fault, because that was more interesting than checking your sources. 

At least, that's what the "journalists" and "sources" said. 

It came with the territory, her dad had told her when she was freshly sixteen and photographers started waiting outside her private school. If you wanted to make the kind of money he made and be important in this world, there was going to be consequences, that's what he'd said when he saw the first photos of her and her friends having lunch on the quad. She was a pretty girl, anyway, of course there were going to be photos taken of her. She might as well take advantage of it instead of whining. 

She became a tabloid bunny before she had even turned eighteen, with every misstep documented on the internet and whatever publication bought the photos as exclusives. Because of that, this lashing was nothing to her. She'd "poorly reflected the family image" enough time to let her dad's words roll off of her. 

Her father was going to probably send her to the home in Malibu or whatever vacation rental was farthest from New York until he could stomach seeing her again. She'd happily take whatever location; it wasn't like she wanted to see him either. 

"(Y/N), we can't keep doing this." Finally focusing her gaze, she saw her father sitting with his eyes sealed closed, his thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose. "I can't keep doing this." 

As much as she was numb to moments like these, it was when his anger melted away and she was left with a disappointed father that she felt cracks appear in her walls. The little girl inside still ached to see her daddy so upset with her; so disappointed he couldn't even look at her. 

"I'm sorry," she offered, something genuine lying beneath the deadpan tone. 

"I'm sure you are," he sighed, "But, that's not enough anymore." 

Rolling her lips between her teeth, lipgloss smearing across her pout, she stayed quiet.

"At this point, it's like you need a babysitter again. You can't be left by yourself and expected to behave." 

Not this again, she wanted to grumble. Her last "babysitter" was nothing more than an uppity handler that cared more about PR rather than her actual well being. 

Beginning to shake her head, (Y/N) tried to politely decline before he steamrolled over her. 

"I'm going to have to hire someone, whether you want it or not. A bodyguard, a handler, or something, just to follow you around and keep you out of trouble." 

Her lashes fluttered as her eyes widened at his plan. Her last handler didn't do more than text her throughout the day and meet with her once a week. He wanted someone on her back all the time?

"Don't you think that's a little extreme?" 

He still wouldn't look at her as he spoke, "Since you keep acting like a child, that's how I'm going to have to treat you." 

A slight panic sparked in the pit of her stomach. If she couldn't have her freedom, then what was any of this for? None of this—putting up with her father, allowing him to jerk her around, take his berating—was fucking worth it, then. 

"Dad, seriously," she tried again, her hands beginning to shake, "Those pictures aren't what it looks like, I promise." 

"And the others?" he asked sharply, whipping his gaze to match hers intently, "The one with you and Francesca sneaking out of a club at three in the morning when you were nineteen? The one of you screaming at Terra at her birthday party? Or, of course, the clips of you showing off your underwear while getting out of some random man's car?" 

(Y/N) shut down at the mention of her most famous and well photographed mistakes. He never bothered to get her side of the story to those photos either, he just liked to bring them up to taunt her. He'd rather believe an "insider" over his daughter. It didn't matter that she was his family. It only mattered what his investors thought, or the men at the country club, or whoever he was trying to cozy up to for his benefit. Every attempt to clear her name was thrown out; not even when she showed him that one of these insiders had found her home address and started sending her letters. Not even when she told him she was beginning to get scared did he even pretend to care. 

"That's what I thought," her father continued after she left them in silence, "Now, I'm going to have to hire someone to ensure you don't keep causing trouble, and you are going to respect them. If you want any chance of me letting this go, you're going to respect them more than you apparently respect me." 

She stayed quiet. There wasn't anything she could add to this. 

"Is there anything you want to say?" he pressed. A faux offer of debate. 

(Y/N) only shook her head. 

"Fine," he spat out, "Then go to bed. I don't want to see you for the rest of the night."

She was up and out of her seat immediately, not wasting a single second before her Dior heels were rapidly clacking over the cherrywood floors of her father's office. Her eyes were on the ground, watching the transition between the wood to the sparkling marble throughout the rest of the flawless Upstate mansion. Everything was high-end and fine, perfect and unburdened. It was full of everything her dad wanted her to be but she could never manage to be as well behaved as a lamp or as quiet as a Persian rug. 

Trailing through the labyrinth of staircases and sealed doors, (Y/N) beelined to her childhood room. It was left exactly how it had been when she moved out at nineteen. It had way too much gold and hidden compartments her friends made to hide liquor for their slumber parties. Her bed was too big with a mattress that was too stiff and sheets too starchy from disuse. 

Her dad never bothered to clear it out or even change a single piece of furniture—not because he cared or wanted her to have a space in his life, but because he didn't think of her enough to even remember this was here. 

Shedding her Chanel sweater and dropping her skirt to puddle at her feet, (Y/N) dressed down to her undergarments before stealing an oversized shirt from a film festival she and Francesca had been invited to at seventeen. The fabric was soft and worn as it fell to the middle of her thighs, the fit slouching and stretched just like it was all those years ago. 

That was all the comfort she could find as she slipped into bed, the sheets dragging across her bare legs. With her head cushioned by an overstuffed pillow, (Y/N) shuttered her eyes as she laid of on her back. Taking in deep breaths, she did her best to keep herself from shedding any tears. 

There wasn't a single reason she should cry over her father. There was nothing there for her to be upset over; none of his words sliced the way he thought they did, that father-daughter bond having been severed when she was way too young. Her efforts were better utilized trying to figure out how to get out of this whole thing. 

Aside from the fact she didn't want a handler—or whatever this babysitter's official title would be—following her around, she needed her freedom. Having the space away from her father's world was the only thing keeping her sane, even if she was barely hanging on. 

She'd been suffocated enough of her life, she needed to find a way to get this pair of strangling hands off of her neck sooner rather than later.

—————

"He literally arranged a flight for me to meet him in Greece, but he only ever messages me after ten like I'm a booty call or something."

Francesca's babbling complaints were some of her favorite things. It was fun hearing what the biggest problems in her life were, as if it was really such a bad thing to have a billionaire entertaining a romance with you. Even if it only occurred after ten p.m.

"Isn't there a time difference between here and Greece?" (Y/N) asked, the Prada and Dior bags in the crook of her elbow brushing against each other as she raised her hand to flick a strand of hair off of her shoulder. Summer was beginning to fall over the city, that much she could tell from the humid breeze twirling around them. 

"I mean sure, but that's not the point," Fran argued, breathing out a frustrated sigh, "It's like he doesn't think I'll ghost him if he starts annoying me. He's not the only one with a yacht, you know." 

"I know, bu—" 

(Y/N) was cut off by the sound of her phone vibrating in her bag, the device rattling against her lipgloss tube. Francesca paused her story, watching as (Y/N) pulled her phone out of her bag. Clocking the name on the screen, she had to keep from rolling her eyes. There had already been a photographer taking photos of them through the windows of Prada and she wasn't sure if they'd followed, but a picture of her rolling her eyes before answering the phone would surely be spun into something sensational.

"Hold on, it's my dad," she mumbled before pressing the phone to her ear. 

Without waiting for a greeting, her father brightened through the receiver with a call of her name. "(Y/N)! Are you still out with Francesca?" She could hear his smile through the phone. The investor meeting must have gone better than he thought. 

"Yeah," she answered absently, "We just finished lunch and shopping. I think we're going to go back to my apartment before we go out tonight. Why?" 

"Would you be able to come home this afternoon, instead? There's someone I want you to meet."

The lax in her muscles evaporated at his words. Though it was posed as a question, she knew there was only one answer he would accept. It was never a good thing when he wanted her to meet someone, but it was a required thing she'd learned. More often than not, he wanted her to meet an investor's son, or some man he drank too much with at the country club. 

Cautiously, she asked, "Who is it?" 

"It's a surprise," he beamed over the phone, "Drop off your things and I'll have one of the drivers come to pick you up." 

"I mean, I think Franny actually made reservations at—" 

This time around, her father's voice had a curt edge underneath the faux sweetness he started the call with. "I think you're going to have to tell Francesca that you need to reschedule, sweetie," he said, voice too pleasant, "I need you to come home tonight." 

Swallowing around her dry throat, (Y/N) resigned herself to the change in the day's plans. "Okay, dad," she muttered. 

"See you soon, honey! Love you!" 

(Y/N) didn't bother to reciprocate his performance, instead just hanging up. He wouldn't shout at her over the dropped call if someone else was present anyway, might as well take advantage she decided.

Beside him, Francesca looked at her with a matching pout. "You have to go home, huh?" 

"Yeah," (Y/N) breathed, dropping her phone back into her purse as they crossed the busy intersection, "My dad wants me to meet one of his friends or something." 

Francesca affectionately bumped against Y/N's shoulder as the car taking them back to her apartment came into view. "Well, if you don't like this one, send me his number and I'll take him off your hands. Just make sure he also has a yacht in Greece." 

Though her features stretched into a smile with a bubbling laugh, (Y/N) wasn't too impressed with Francesca's comment. While she was the best friend (Y/N) had ever had, the only person that knew much about what happened at home and why she would do next to anything to avoid her father, Francesca didn't get it. She supported (Y/N) and didn't mind being the listening ear and the shoulder to lean on, but she never really understood why certain things bothered (Y/N). Everything was very light-hearted in Franny's eyes—there was never a reason not to be receptive if a rich man wanted to buy her a drink or a company wanted to use her likeness without permission. Everything was an opportunity, not a crossed boundary. 

"I doubt he will," (Y/N) played along, setting her shopping bags at her feet after climbing into the black car, "But I'll make sure to put in a good word for you in case he has one in Florence." 

Francesca's laugh filled the cab of the car though (Y/N) was already back home with her father, trying to navigate her way out of whatever he planned. 

—————

"Thank you, Sully," (Y/N) chirped as her driver helped her step out of the car. 

"My pleasure, Ms. (Y/N)," he offered, waiting for her to steady herself over the gravel of her father's long driveway, "Also, I wanted to say thank you again for the clothing you passed on to my daughter. She loved her prom dress and is already asking her mom if she can get it preserved so she can keep it forever. Thank you for taking the time and picking some things out for her—it made her night." 

"Of course," she bubbled, allowing Sully to escort her to the front door of the mansion, "I'm so happy she liked any of it! Let me know if she needs anything else for graduation or anything at all."

The smile on his face made it especially worth it to let go of her favorite vintage Dior gown. 

Waving goodbye to Sully, (Y/N) stepped over the threshold of the front door, already regretting not fighting harder to get out of this. Goosebumps touched her skin as the temperature dropped. She shut the warmth outside behind her, the lock ensuring nothing comforting could follow her into the lion's den.

Despite the place being her childhood home, there was nothing left for her here, she knew that. It barely even resembled the same place she used to celebrate holidays and share tense family dinners in. Her dad's favorite interior designer had the pleasure of redecorating the place every few years, erasing anything that made it not look like a catalogue. 

Her heels clicked over the floors as she made her way up to his office. She wanted to take her time, but she was sure her father already knew she was there. It was better to refrain from keeping him waiting. 

Scaling the stairs, she heard a pair of voices and distant laughter. She didn't need to see the space to know her dad had probably cracked open the decanter of whiskey he had on display on one of his shelves, crystal glasses filled for the both of them. It wasn't hard to imagine the kinds of lines her dad would offer in an attempt to schmooze with whoever was waiting for her. She'd heard it all dozens of times at this point. 

The other voice, though, took her by surprise. This one was too deep and mature to be any kind of investor's son, and too sober and untainted by years of smoking cigars to be one of the men at the country club. Her steps slowed some. Her expectations shifted as she trailed down the hallway in the direction of the office, heels muffled by the long rug under her feet. 

With the heavy door to his office in front of her, (Y/N) carefully knocked on the panel, listening as the voices inside stilled at her disruption. Typically, her father would just grunt a permission of entrance or already be raging when she stepped over the threshold, but she knew he was committed to whatever show he was putting on when he opened the door for her himself.

"(Y/N), sweetie," he greeted her, toothy smile on his lips. "Thank you for coming so quickly; I know you were busy with Francesca, but I'm happy you're here." 

If that wasn't enough, the hug he pulled her into was more than alarming. The last time he hugged her when cameras weren't present was the day her parents told her they were divorcing.  She didn't even know how to reciprocate. 

Before she had a chance to screw her head on right, he pulled away and began leading her inside his office. 

"Of course," she chirped, falling into her designated role for this scene. She kept her gaze high as she followed him in, feigning confidence in the midst of whoever it was that was awaiting her. 

"I have someone special for you to meet," he continued, pitching his voice louder as to catch the attention of the one other in the room. 

Around his shoulder, (Y/N) spotted a head of brown hair, black clothing stretched around broad shoulders and tan skin on the back of their neck. They faced forward despite the obvious way her father was trying to catch their attention. Pacing her breathing, (Y/N) fell into the loving daughter character, willing to do anything for her doting father. 

Welcome to the show. She just hoped it would be a short viewing. 

Approaching the pair of chairs positioned before the cherry-stained desk, her father held out a sweeping hand. "Harry," he said, looking to his guest, "This is my daughter, (Y/N)." 

At the sound of his name, the guest—Harry—stood from where he was sitting, moving with calculated grace as he turned to face the both of them. He stepped away from the cushioned seats, a stoic expression on his features as he looked towards her. 

He wore all black down to his shoes, standing taller than her father's height. His arms and chest were thick with muscle, tan skin and tattoos littering the space. He had beetles and mermaids, hearts and roses inked across, some sketches more faded than others. A cross had even been needed into his hand. The chain of a necklace glimmered in the lowlight though any pendant that may be attached were hidden under the neckline of his top. Moving up the column of his throat, his face was made of hard planes and sharp angles. His nose was strong and straight. Stubble shown blonde in the light across the bottom half of his face, a mole off to the side of his mouth. Everything softened as she matched his eye contact, mossy jade with sparkles of sunlight flecked through. Long curling lashes framed his gaze. 

He was gorgeous, that's for sure. Not the usual kind of person her father associated with. He must be some kind of new money millionaire, easily fooled by her father's charms. 

The man took her in as well, his gaze observant as if there was a notepad he had in his head to take down every detail of her. It didn't feel like the affectionate gaze she'd felt before tracing down her body. Especially with the way his practiced expression stayed level, a wall hidden behind his eyes. 

Nonetheless, she kept her facade up and ready, a beaming smile on her face. She reached out her delicately manicured hand, palm smelling of the Miss Dior cream she'd rubbed over her hands on the car ride over. 

"Nice to meet you, Harry," she greeted, a mild smile on her face. 

His grip was strong as he grabbed her hand, palm to palm with callouses matching the soft parts of her own. "Likewise." 

(Y/N) couldn't help but to recoil some as she retracted her hand. It wasn't a new reaction, especially some people who met her after reading too much into the tabloid stories and anonymous blogs. Half the time strangers waited for her to drunkenly blow up on them. Though it wasn't a typical reaction from those who requested to meet her. 

Her father didn't seem to pay any mind to the chilled interaction, rounding the width of his desk to take his throne on the other side, leaving (Y/N) and Harry to settle beside each other across from him. 

"Remember when we decided you wanted extra guidance, (Y/N)?" her dad asked, bleached white smile on his face, "After everything with Damien recently?" 

Ice touched her spine as she took in his sticky sweet words. She knew where this meeting was going now. 

As much as he tried to hide behind the "we" words and his fake smile, (Y/N) knew this wasn't some investor sitting beside her now. 

Harry was her new cage. 

"I remember," she offered, her own voice sounding far away. 

"Well," he continued with a flourish leaning over his desk with his elbow propped on the wood, "Harry, here, is that guidance we were looking for.  He used to work for Camila and Monroe as their head of security, but he's agreed to be your personal bodyguard until you're back on track." He looked too proud of himself as he spoke. "He's going to take good care of you, sweetie."  

Bodyguard. 

Her personal bodyguard. 

When her father pitched this whole idea and sent her to her room like a child, she honestly figured it would be another handler he would find for her. While it wasn't ideal, she knew she could deal with a handler. She could deal with an uppity woman bossing her around from a distance; she could deal with painting a facade and adhering to her father's guidelines through a handler. 

But, a bodyguard—or personal security, as he so delicately put it—was a different story. 

Harry would be tasked with following her everywhere. He'd have access to her home, access to the person she was around her friends, who she was around her father. Downtime would no longer be a thing with Harry around—recovery and privacy being thrown out. 

Francesca had a bodyguard when they were teenagers. Though it was only over the summers when they weren't away at school, those months he was present were... odd to (Y/N). He wasn't a mean man, but he was always there. Franny wasn't as bothered as she was, but (Y/N) felt like there was no privacy—no space to talk to her best friend about anything. He was always there listening, watching, and anticipating any need for protection. She felt exposed in his presence, no secrets truly secret or downtime when someone constantly had eyes on them. 

If this arrangement was anything like that, (Y/N) didn't know if her sanity was going to survive these months. 

Despite her insides beginning to churn, her glossy-lipped smile stayed intact with stiff cheeks. "Wow! That's amazing!" 

Her performance must have been subpar if the way her father flashed his gaze at her, a glance that hardened a little too much. She needed to be trying harder, was what he was telling her. She wasn't being perfect like he wanted. 

"I've already warned him about your history of outbursts," her father said, a stealthy jab at her, "and we discussed everything with Damien. I think he's up for the challenge." 

It was an interesting feeling being called a "challenge" by her own father, knowing he must have shared much more degrading comments behind her back disguised as warranted advice. It was all preparation, he probably thought. A proper warning. 

She shoved that feeling down—whatever that feeling was called—and instead focused on her role. As long as she bubbled, chirped, and smiled, she could get out of this room sooner rather than later. 

"Good," she said, a breathy laugh floating out with her voice, "I'll try not to give you any surprises, then." Looking to Harry, she leaned into her persona and played along. He didn't glance at her once, keeping his gaze forward on her father as if he were watching a movie. 

"There won't be any surprises, actually, right (Y/N)?" her father said, a tad too sharp under his act. 

"Right," she settled, calming under the weight of the room. 

Silence settled over, neither she nor her father plucking up the words while Harry stayed an observing pillar. 

This was her opening. If she acted fast, she could get out of here before either of them could stop her. 

"It was really nice to meet you, Harry," she said politely, her fingers curling around the arms of her chair, "Thank you for coming to work with us. I actually have early breakfast plans with Fran tomorrow morning back in the city, so I should probably start hea—" 

"Actually," her father cut her off sharply, his eyes hardening as they landed on her, "I was hoping you would stay for dinner tonight, sweetie. After Harry and I finish ironing out his contract, I wanted to talk to you some more before he officially started with you." 

Instinctively, she wanted to fight him on this. Spending another night here less than a month after the last time she had a breakdown here wasn't on the top of her list of wants, currently. But, knowing there was someone here already expecting the worst from her, forced her to settle. If she talked back it would only reinforce everything her father probably spouted off about her earlier. 

"Okay," she smiled, standing to her feet before inching towards he door, "I'll wait in my room then and give you guys some privacy." 

While her father offered a small dismissal to her in the form of a stuff smile and a promise to call her for dinner, Harry didn't bother to look twice at her. She didn't waste a moment before she was rushing back to her room. She didn't care if they could hear the pacing of her heels over the floors, knowing she was all but running away from that room. 

After twisting the lock on her bedroom door, (Y/N) collapsed onto her bed. Her breathing was uneven, chest rising and falling a little too fast for her head to stay clear. Pinpricks of static began to dance on her palms, fingertips beginning to go numb. A hole began to develop in the pit of her stomach. 

This might be one of the last real moments of alone time for the next couple of months, and she was spending it on the verge of a panic attack. 

(Y/N) knew her dad didn't trust her, but to have someone on his payroll whose only purpose was to follow her around stung more than she was willing to admit. She wasn't a stupid child despite how much he wanted to believe that. 

Harry wasn't there to protect her, she knew that. He was a hired hand to put her back in her place every time her father wasn't there to do it himself. He was another body to crowd her into a corner and suffocate her as long as she kept smiling. Harry was another reminder that nothing was allowed to be hers; her thoughts, her time, her space was to be shared just like the rest of herself.

Besides, Harry might be the kind of person willing to sell stories to tabloids. Who better than someone tasked with observing her every mood to be an "insider"? It wouldn't be the first time a Secrets Edition came out about her. 

With her eyes fixed to a knot swirling in the marble flooring, (Y/N) tried to unlatch the phantom hands wrapped around her neck. 

What was going to be left of her if she was constantly going to be performing? 

Shuttering her eyes, (Y/N) fisted her hands in her lap, the hem of her Dior minidress caught in the fray. She needed to calm down. 

No matter what, she was still luckier than most people in this world. She needed to keep that in mind if she was going to keep her head on straight. She was going to figure this out, and she was going to be okay even if a tiny bit cracked at the edges. 

Curling up on her dusty bed, she leveled her breathing as much as she could despite the shuddering of her lungs. Every spiraling thought had to be neatly rolled up and put away.

A breakdown was probably on the list of banned surprises her father had in mind, anyway.

—————

Poking at her dry salad, (Y/N) watched the drops of condensation river down her glass of lemon water. Across from her, her father tore at his too-scorched steak, a side of hearty potatoes and glass of whiskey to compliment the meat. 

He hadn't said a word to her since she sat down, instead opting to focus on his tailored dinner while she was left with her pre-arranged salad. It was more lady-like, he'd told her once before, to eat like a rabbit. Leave the big things to men—they needed it after running the world, she'd heard him joke though she's sure it wasn't a joke to him.

As heavy as the silence was weighing on her, she wasn't going to be the first one to speak either. He was the one that requested she spend dinner with him, he was going to have to lead the conversation. That left only the clicking of utensils against the fine china plates. 

Suddenly piping up, (Y/N) lifted her gaze to her father's as he spoke, "You're going to have to start being nice to Harry, you know. He's not going away until I say, and I could tell you were being fake today. If you're going to lie, at least try harder."

As if her father wasn't the king of phony facades and fake personality traits. He was the one that shattered that illusion the second he couldn't hide his temper with her earlier. It didn't take much to notice he didn't actually care about her. 

Those hours in her room left her exhausted, though. She'd cried off and on until she finally convinced herself everything was fine and none of it truly mattered in the grand scheme of things; that her discomfort and fear was something minuscule enough to be pushed to the side and forgotten. She didn't have it in her to debate with him. 

"Yeah," she dejectedly agreed, running her fork through the leafy greens on her plate, "Sorry about that." 

Apparently, that was the worst thing she could have uttered with the way her father dropped his fork to clatter against his plate with his grip tightening on the handle of his steak knife. His jaw tensed, lips pinched. 

"I don't care how you feel about this, (Y/N)," he gritted out, "Don't think I don't mean that. You are going to show him some respect, listen to everything he says, and behave accordingly. Otherwise, he has full permission to correct you as he sees fit. And, he will tell me every time he has to correct you, so keep in mind that any kind of punishment he gives—mine will be ten times worse." 

She didn't doubt a word he said. If this was the kind of conversation he and Harry had after she left the room, there was no telling what kind of person her new security had to be to agree to a job with terms like these. She lacked faith in just how fairly he would "correct" her if his thoughts aligned with her father's. 

"Okay," (Y/N) mumbled, all the fight in her gone for the day. 

Her father sighed, disappointed as per usual. "This is going to be good for you," he told her, condescension tainting his tone, "I know you don't understand that now, but it will be. I just want you to settle down and stop giving people something to talk about. There's no reason to act like that if you want attention. You're pretty enough, people are already looking—there's no reason to be a bitch, too." Picking up his fork, he steadied his steak as he sliced off another too-tough bite. "Your life could be so much different—Damien might even take you back if you just apologized." 

The ice cubes in her drink slid against one another, melting in her water. "Okay." 

Chewing down his bite, her father took a long pull from his whiskey. 

"He starts with you on Friday. I told him to take a look at your apartment and make sure there isn't anything or anyone that isn't supposed to be there." His pointed gaze landed on her over the rim of his glass. "I will hear about everything, please remember that." 

His thinly veiled threat swept over her with nothing more than a meaningless brush. She kept her eyes on the drip of water traveling down the side of her glass. A melting ice cube clinked against the side. 

"Okay." 

—————

Phone pressed to her ear, (Y/N) flipped through her mail while Francesca bubbled in her ear. No matter how hard she tried to condition herself to be the same, Fran was always a much better morning person than she. 

"When do you see him again? Do you know yet, or is that a mystery, too?" Francesca was a little too excited to hear how inexpressive Harry had been in her father's office. His stoic coldness translated to mysterious heat to her. 

"My dad said he was supposed to start today, but I'm not sure. I woke up early and made an extra smoothie just in case, but he still hasn't shown." 

The envelopes in front of her were nothing but junk so far, her attention waning. 

"Ooh!" Francesca sang over the phone, "I'm so excited to meet him! We're still on for brunch this Sunday, right?" 

(Y/N) faltered where she stood, hands pausing on the collection of mail. "I don't know, Fran," she muttered, shifting her weight over the tiles of her kitchen, "I just—... He'd have to come with me." 

"I know, that's the point!" she bubbled, "You said he was cute and young, I want to meet him." 

"I know, but I wanted to talk about stuff, you know," (Y/N) pointed out. 

"And we will! You remember Barry from when we were in school, right? I promise you, your guy isn't going to care about anything going on as long as you aren't in danger," Francesca continued, referencing her security form when they were young. 

Sighing, (Y/N) wanted to correct Franny. Harry wasn't going to be eyeing out any suspects or worst case scenario moments, not if he was following her father's directions. He would be listening in and watching her for any and all infractions she could commit, including any topic of discussion that might be considered unbecoming. 

Francesca must have picked up on her lingering reluctance through the phone. "(Y/N), please," she pouted, "I know you're stressed and all about everything, but I don't want this to take you away from me. You can still live your life, you'll just have an extra shadow. That's all." 

A beat passed before she felt herself resign. "Okay, but if today is weird with him, I might be calling and cancelling." 

"Okay!" she squealed out, feeling as if this was her win no matter what, "Just keep an open mind today, and have fun!" 

"I'm sure I will," (Y/N) laughed, "Love you." 

"Love you, too! Bye!" 

With that, the call went dead leaving (Y/N)'s previous scroll through instagram lighting up her screen. Locking her phone, she took a breath to take a sip of her purple smoothie, hoping the addition of matcha and cherry juice this time would tap into some of her stress points and calm her. 

She kept up with her chosen routine for the morning, rifling through the remains of her pile of mail. Under a few more loose pieces of mail and catalogues was a navy blue envelope, stamped with silver starts and sparkling script spelling out her name. A faux wax seal laid the flap shut but gave away easily under a slight pick against the edge. Inside was an invitation to the annual 132 Gala—a benefit for the art gallery of the same name—she'd attended for the last couple of years, the dress code detailed out along with an RSVP request. Honestly, as much as she and her stylist had been anticipating the event, she almost forgot about it in the midst of all the variables entering her life. She was going to have to touch base with Dom to ensure he still had an idea in mind for her gown before she made any commitment. 

With the invitation being stowed away for later, a few more pieces of mail were thrown in the trash until she reached the final slip in the stack. She sighed when she spotted the familiar computerized script on the front. It was crumpled and creamy as opposed to a clean white. She was sure that if she had picked it up earlier in the week it would have still had that distinct woodsy scent as opposed to smelling like the inside of her mailbox. 

(Y/N) didn't need to peel open the flap to know that inside there would be a stack of glossy photos of her along with a typed letter. She knew there would be photos of her this week entering her apartment, going out with Francesca, driving to her father's, and the infamous event with Damien. Some of those photos would no doubt end up in a publication or posted along with a too-long article analyzing her outfit or body language. They always did. 

Without opening the envelope to verify her suspicions, (Y/N) bent to lay this letter with the rest in a drawer filled with junk and things she wanted to ignore. After pushing the drawer closed, she wiped every thought about her "admirer" from her thoughts. They weren't allowed to occupy her brain when there were much more pressing things to worry about. 

Flicking her gaze to the time blinking on her stove, she had to keep from rolling her eyes. While she wasn't much of a morning person, she couldn't believe her dad would allow someone to start a work day—no matter how informal—after nine a.m. With the time blinking well past ten in the morning and the sleep officially having been wiped from her eyes, she was growing unimpressed with the fact she was still waiting. 

Shuttering her eyes, (Y/N) centered herself, leaning back against the lip of the counter. She knew there was no reason to be upset with Harry, it wasn't like she had any say in his schedule nor was this lag truly disrupting anything for her. Her anxiety was beginning to manifest in ways she wasn't proud of and weren't helpful in any way. 

She thought some early morning yoga and a string of meditative poses would help settle her, work out that energy, but obviously none of that had the desired effect. Every time she tried to picture even what this Sunday's outing was going to be like, she wanted nothing more than to hide away and keep from encountering anyone or anything. It would be easier that way, she figured. That way she wouldn't have to explain who Harry was or why she needed any kind of security. 

Francesca was right, though. She knew that. Staying holed up and avoiding the world wouldn't do anything to get her father off her back. If it went on too long, eventually her father would begin picking out events for her to attend, and that was always a much worse outcome than just leaving her house on her own. 

Breathing the way her therapist from her teenage years taught her, (Y/N) centered herself as best she could with her bare feet on the cool tile of her kitchen. The chilled glass with her smoothie was slick against her palm, condensation dripping down the crystal. 

Everything was going to be fine. 

A buzz coming over the intercom knocked (Y/N) out of her head, her eyes flying open with her hand almost letting go of her smoothie. A stunted breath exhaled from her lungs as the moment she'd been waiting for laced together. 

She knew that was Harry waiting to be buzzed up to meet her for the second time. 

Forcing her head to clear, (Y/N) fell easily into her role of bubbly socialite. She had nothing to be afraid of, she told herself, it wasn't as if he was going to find anything her father would be ashamed of. She wasn't even his top priority, she reminded herself, her father and his company were Harry's clients, not (Y/N).

Pressing the small button on the stainless steel panel beside her front door, she dipped close to the microphone. "Good morning, how can I help you?" she asked as if she didn't already know what the answer would be. 

"Good morning, Ms. (Y/N)," answered the doorman from the lobby, the usual quiet settling in the background as he spoke, "I have a Mr. Harry Styles waiting down here for you. He said he's a part of your security team." 

"You can send him up, please," she replied, forcing a chirp to her voice. "Thank you, Claudio!" 

"Of course, Ms. (Y/N)," was all she heard back before the static went dead. Claudio was always a bit cold to her, but he never let any of the lurkers into the lobby so she'd take what she could get. 

The waiting game started again after the brief intermission, leaving (Y/N) in the silence of her apartment. She was suddenly too aware of the silk of her pajamas brushing her skin, the intricate threading on the hem of her shorts too heavy now. 

Lucky enough for her, it wasn't too long before she heard a knock reverberating through the door. It was firm and short, matching the man on the other side. 

A shot went through her system, a moment of static hitting her brain. She'd gone through worse bouts of anxiety and stressful situations, there was no reason to get worked up over something—someone—like this. 

With her mask on, complete with a reserved smile and detached gaze, (Y/N) opened her front door. The hinges glided like butter, welcoming Harry in where he stood in the hallway. 

Dressed in all black as she was starting to figure was his signature, he was waiting with an observant gaze being cast through the corridor. This was one of the few penthouse floors in the building leaving a bare space between where the elevator was stationed before leading to her front door. 

"Good morning," she told him pleasantly, "Come in." 

With a flourish, she stepped to the side with a space cleared for him to step into her apartment. 

"Good morning," he said, a slight smile on his features that appeared for a flash before he was back to his stoic state, "Thank you." 

Harry stepped in, acting as a dark spot with his fitted black t-shirt and trousers of the same shade against the understated hues of her home. (Y/N) locked the door behind him before turning to face him once more, a pleasant smile on her face. 

"How are you?" she asked, her voice even and warm despite how detached she felt. 

"Good, thank you," was his abrupt response, no followup about her own well being for the morning. He cast his gaze around her apartment, taking every corner and curve. She wasn't even sure he had properly looked at her at all since coming here. 

"Good," she said, trailing off awkwardly into the space around them. What kind of small talk do you make with a member of your security team? Especially one that didn't seem too keen on knowing their client. 

Leaning against her front door, she waited as he observed everything. He looked at her couch the same way he had looked at her days prior, as if he was compiling a list of all its attributes and deciding whether it not it had anything of value within. 

It was an odd feeling; she typically wasn't so blatantly compared to furniture to her face, that was usually left to the tabloids and internet trolls. 

Seeming to remember that she was still there, Harry stopped his game of finding everything in the room. He settled his eyes on her, a pointed look with a small pinch to his brows. 

Taking him in for that moment, she was reminded of just how pretty he was. He didn't look like the kind of man that would be guarding the models and gorgeous people, he should be one of the YSL or Gucci models that needed protecting from the crowds of people trying to get a closer look at him. Off-duty model, she figured would be the name of the article that Vogue would write about him, full of street style photos of him. 

With the green of his eyes meeting her own, he didn't waver where he stood. "Jus' go about your day like normal," he instructed her, arms crossed over his chest, "I want to learn your habits and your space first, but if you need to do anything out of the norm, let me know." 

"Okay," she sounded, voice quiet to her own ears. 

As much as she was sure she was meant to completely ignore him, she still felt odd crossing through her place towards her kitchen. She finished her smoothie and had left her blender and other supplies in the sink, so she could at least do the dishes maybe? At least that way her hands would be busy without plucking at her manicure.

Filling the sink with water, she did her best to treat Harry as nothing more than a shadow. To be fair, it wasn't that hard given the fact he barely made any noise as he traipsed around. It brought back memories of the way Barry used to hover around she and Franny when they were teenagers; it was easy to not pay too much attention to the extra body in the room, but her muscles never fully relaxed. 

From the corner of her eye, she saw him poking his head up the stairs to where her bedroom was, casting his gaze towards her ceiling, catching a view out her various windows as he went around. He was a perfect shadow dressed in black, but he seemed a bit too unimpressed for a neutral being. 

Harry stepped into her kitchen, the rubber soles of his shoes silent over the sparkling white granite flooring. "Do you have any kind of security system set up here? Cameras or anything like that?" he probed. 

Humming, (Y/N) picked up the rag she placed out for drying. "The building has some of those alarms installed with the codes and everything and there's the guys downstairs, but I don't have cameras set up in here or anything." 

Perpetually unimpressed, Harry only let out a, "Hm." 

She fixed her eyes onto her pink onyx countertops, tracing the swirling white lines in the faint pink of the stone. Why did he even care, she wanted to ask. What good would cameras in her home do when she was a nuisance outside of these walls? 

Watching as he headed down towards her guest rooms, she felt her tongue moving before her brain allowed it. "What are you looking for?" she poked, her question simple as he kept drying her dishes before placing them in cabinets. 

It wasn't like she was hiding any of the drugs or alcohol her dad surely warned him about, telling him to seek out and destroy before truly starting his job. If that was what he was toeing around her home for, he was going to be disappointed.

He didn't even turn to face her as he called back down the hallway to her, "Nothing in particular. Jus' noting things as I go; vantage points and the complete lack of any useful security around here."

Propping her hip against the lip of the counter, she let out a small sigh. Her hands twirled the rag she had used to dry her dishes, gaze following after her new security detail. 

"You don't have to pretend, you know," she started, saving them both some trouble by starting the conversation, "I know my dad didn't hire you to protect me or anything. He wants you protect the public, and his business from me." 

His ghosting footsteps came to a stop where stood down the hallway. He was in complete control as he turned to face her, that usual placid look molding his features. "Last I checked, you were my client. Not the public or your father's company." 

"But he's the one that's paying you," she countered, unwavering from the point she was trying to make, "I just don't want you to waste your time pretending to find something to protect me from." 

That deadpan look never changed from Harry's face. "'M not pretending, 'm doing my job." He paused only for a moment, his gaze bored and heavy on her skin. "Let me know if y'decide to go anywhere." 

That was the end of the conversation as far as (Y/N) was aware, Harry turning and leaving her as he went about doing whatever it was he considered to be his job. She didn't try to stop him again. If he wanted to waste his time, he could do just that. Not her problem, anymore.

Draining her sink, (Y/N) crept through her apartment to settle upon her plush couch. Clicking her television awake, she fumbled through streaming services until finally tuning into a rerun of a cooking show she was fond of. Though she couldn't quite sink into the cushions or yell to the T.V. as the contestants didn't see the obvious win she did, at least he wasn't right behind her. 

—————

"No, dad, I didn't give him any trouble yesterday." 

(Y/N) could practically hear the eyeball through the phone. "You know he's going to tell me, right? Lying won't change anything." 

It was her turn to give a petulant reaction, lashes fluttering as she almost got her eyes stuck in the back of her head. "I'm being serious. I'm not hiding anything, and I haven't even gone out or anything. There's been nothing to get upset over, dad." 

The trademark sigh of disappointment fluttered through the speaker. "What's the point of having a bodyguard if all you're going to do is stay home, (Y/N)?" 

"I'm going to brunch tomorrow with Fran and the girls," she countered, feeling her blood pressure rise over his argument. She was damned if she went out and was seen, damned if she stayed home and out of the public eye. She couldn't win. 

"Good," her father said, sounding all too pleased as if these plans were his doing, "I want him to see how you act in public, then we'll be able to start working on your problems." 

There was no argument she was going to give after that. She wasn't going to reward him or validate his claim that she is the problem. Because of course she was; it was never the photographers hounding her the second she turned sixteen, never the men around her that treated her like a tabloid bunny there for poking and prodding, and never him who didn't think to be a father for longer than it took for a flash of a camera to capture the moment. 

Dead air settled between them, (Y/N) pressing her phone to her ear with the help of her shoulder as she began to collect ingredients for her dinner. Her way of ignoring him came in redirection, instead focusing back on Harry, his new favorite person. 

"Harry thinks I should get a security system at my apartment," she offered, hoping the mention of his name was enough to get her father's head turning elsewhere. 

The beat that passed after her words showed she garnered the opposite reaction. "Did you tell him about those letters, (Y/N)?" he asked, voice hard as stone. 

Her lips thinned. "No." 

"Good. Don't." It didn't take much for (Y/N) to picture the way he was surely hanging his head over his dinner, perpetually disappointed in his only child. "Do not waste his time over those. Plenty of people take pictures with you, and if I find out you're having him worry about the one person that's actually a fan of you..." he trailed off as if she didn't know exactly what threat was about to leave his mouth, "I'm going to send you to stay with your mother." 

"Right. I won't." 

His worst punishment was always to push her off on others. The nannies she bonded with growing up, different boarding schools and summer programs, anyone that was willing to glance at her for longer than five seconds was in the running to take her off his hands. Her mother was always his favorite to threaten her with as if he knew where she was. 

(Y/N) didn't bother to listen to him anymore when it came to these moments. While she knew he'd never—could never—follow through with this particular threat, it was more than a little disheartening that he'd consider her calling for help as something that deserved a punishment. 

"Well," he started, speaking around his mouthful of whatever his chef had prepared for the night, "if I don't hear from Harry, I'll be calling you to see how tomorrow goes. Don't embarrass yourself, (Y/N). It's not worth it." 

"I know," she answered absently, her voice bored, "Goodnight, dad." 

"Night." 

Pulling her phone from her ear, (Y/N) focused on preparing the zucchini for the pasta primavera she'd been craving. Her thoughts turned methodical now that she had something structured to give her attention to. It was much easier to think when she wasn't firmly planted in her stubbornness and trying to ward off the kind of anxiety she hadn't felt since she was a teenager. 

Harry had gone home late into the afternoon yesterday, and didn't return today. He didn't tell her anything other than he'd see her on Sunday morning for brunch, but she had figured he'd have paid her another visit in the meantime anyway. It was an odd arrangement anyway, as far as she could tell. 

Stretching her memory back, Francesca's security was always there. Even when (Y/N) would spend the night or go away on trips with family, Barry was a constant shadow. The pool house in their backyard was his, an extra room for every rental or new vacation house taken into account so Francesca was never without her bodyguard. While she hadn't really wanted this, she figured Harry would be the same way—his services a button away in case of any kind of moment in need from her. 

He hadn't even taken her number down when he was over. 

It had only been a suspicion before, but perhaps her dad really had been honest with Harry: there was no real danger surrounding (Y/N), just her as the problem that needed fixing before interacting any with the public. There would be no reason for him to watch over her as she slept or be available to any emergency that might appear in his absence. 

Whatever, she figured, sliding the half-moons of her zucchini into a bowl. At least she cleaned out her guest room, something she'd been meaning to do.

(Y/N) was going to take her time alone as if it were gold. She had a feeling tomorrow was going to be rough enough without a bad night's sleep. 

—————

Swimming to the surface of sleep, (Y/N) was half aware of the sound of the static buzzing coming through her apartment. It was far enough away, the buzz panel situated by the door, that she could ignore it easily as she shifted between her sheets with her eyes cinched closed. Brunch wasn't for a few hours anyway, she knew that, and if any of the girls needed her they would have called prior. 

Soon enough the buzzing ceased, allowing her brain to fuzzy further and to retrace her steps back to her dreamland. Whatever that was, wasn't an emergency, then. 

Until the banging knocks started. 

These, she wasn't able to ignore. Forcing her eyes open, she reached for her phone on her night stand. No missed calls or texts filled her notifications, but the time of seven a.m. reflected at her. There was only one person who could be giving her this wakeup call, but there was no reason for him to be here already. 

With no contact to reach out to see if it was Harry waiting for her, she just had to trust that the doormen downstairs wouldn't send anyone up that they didn't recognize or who wasn't on the list to be cleared for her penthouse elevator. 

Her hair was a mess on the top of her head, tangled and falling out of the braid she had twisted for the night, eyes crusted with sleep in the corners, and limbs shaking from the abrupt pull from her sleep. The only clear thought she had was that she was goin to have to give him the access code to her apartment or a key after this; early morning wakeups like this were something she was ever going to be happy about. 

Swinging the door open for him during a pause in his banging, (Y/N) barely looked at Harry before she was trying to usher him in with a sweep of her hand. 

"Morning," she grumbled, voice sticky in her throat. 

"Morning," Harry reciprocated, "Are you ready?" 

"What?" she asked over the click of her lock going back into place. 

"I thought you had plans to go out with your friends this morning." His voice was bored as if he couldn't believe he was having to remind her of her own agenda.

"Yeah, for brunch," she added, "We don't have to leave for a while." 

"Hm," was all he had to offer in response. Unimpressed. 

(Y/N) didn't have it in her to care whether or not he liked brunch or thought she was silly for whatever reason. She was too tired, and her bed was too soft. 

"I'm going back to bed," she told him, edging towards the staircase to her bedroom, "You can do whatever you want." 

A beat passed before Harry offered an acknowledgement in the form of a hum. He was much more interested in investigating more of her home, she figured with the way his eyes traipsed through the space. 

The second her head hit the pillow in her bedroom, (Y/N) happily relaxed into the mattress. 

While there was a part of her that felt odd knowing that there was someone else in her home, settling in while she was elsewhere, there were other parts of her that didn't mind it all that much. She'd never felt lonely before, but she also never had known what it was like to have someone else around like this. 

Even if he was being paid to, it was nice to her soft, sleep-molded brain that he'd care if something happened while she slept.

That thought made it a little bit easier to fall asleep again. 

—————

Standing before her bathroom mirror, (Y/N) sharpened her features and pouted her lips at her reflection. With her hair pinned back and a silky robe draped over her body, she looked every bit the dreamy socialite she pictured herself as in her teens. Except for the wreck that was her makeup so far. 

Breaking her pose, she let out an annoyed grumble as she took a closer look at the section of eyeshadow that just wouldn't blend out. She felt like a toddler having a tantrum the way she wanted to stomp her foot on the ground and throw her makeup brush and eyeshadow palette away. 

Everything had been going perfect until she decided to daringly dip into a slightly deeper shade than she was used to on her eyes, and now she was stuck with a semi-sweet chocolate blob on the outer corner of her eye when she was hoping for a milk chocolate fade. And, she didn't have time to redo anything. 

Life could be so unfair sometimes. 

From down the hallway, she heard footsteps glancing over the flooring towards the bathroom. Moments later, Harry appeared in the mirror behind her, something a little more urgent than she was used to in his gaze but just as serious and uninviting as she remembered from this morning. 

When he didn't say anything, only tracing his eyes over her bathroom, (Y/N) piped up, "Is everything okay?" He hadn't come to see her once since she woke up. 

Catching her gaze in the glass, he said, "I heard you." 

"Sorry," she started, dropping her eyes to her palette of neutral powders, "I'm just annoyed right now. My makeup looks dumb, and I don't have time to redo it." 

Harry relaxed some where he stood, his arms dropping from across his chest as he leant against the doorjamb. The observations never stopped, even as she resumed trying to blend out her makeup. 

"I thought you had people to do that for you," he said, brows furrowing just a pinch. 

(Y/N) shrugged, fluffing a creamy shade over the deep mass in hopes of lightening the whole thing up enough to go out for a morning. "Sometimes; usually for really important things. Otherwise, I just like to do it myself." 

When the makeup cooperated, anyway. What she wouldn't give to have the hand of a makeup artist here to fix her mistake.

"Oh," Harry sounded behind her, silence settling between them. 

Expecting him to leave then, (Y/N) refocused on her eye makeup only for Harry to linger in the doorway. He stood there in his too-pretty glory, watching her as she worked. She felt as if each of her moves were being dissected, analyzed and broken down as if there was a chance he would have to step in. She guessed that technically was his job, though she could argue there might be much better things for him to do rather than watch her blend eyeshadow and bobby pin her hair to perfection. 

Once she had her face applied, extra blush and fluffy lashes added in hopes of distracting from her most disastrous shadow look to date (at least that's how she felt in the moment, but she was sure there were photos off er teen years that would love to beg to differ) and hair styled down to the single strand, she was left with her short robe on and her outfit picked out in her closet. Harry's eyes had documented each of her moves, grazing along her skin and observing every stretch. 

Finding that gaze in the mirror, she looked at him with a mild expression. "I just need to get dressed then we can go." 

Harry blinked at her. "Okay." 

That was all he had to say before she was left to head to her room. 

—————

Stepping through the lobby of her complex, (Y/N) couldn't help but to scope out the street as much as she could through the tinted glass doors of the entrance. Waiting on the curb was the all black SUV she called with pedestrians scattered along the sidewalks and recklessly stepping onto the street. All she was looking for was anyone lingering a little too close to the building with too nice of cameras to be normal. 

She'd always been a little cautious leaving her building once the address to her complex had been leaked, paparazzi having camped out for a week afterwards in hopes of catching her off guard, though now that Harry was going to be stepping out with her another layer was added. She could already imagine the headlines and blog posts that would be made when others caught wind of the fact she was seen with a member of the opposite sex. 

Some of her favorites loved to recount her "relationship timeline" as well as call into question her "body count" and how long this new "beau" will last. She was dreading reading those words again; it was bad enough when she actually liked one of those people in those photos with her, but Harry's new job required his presence around her. He couldn't even leave this narrative if he wanted to. 

Staying focused, (Y/N) gave a wave to the doormen standing behind the front desk though their stony faces didn't sway. Harry was quiet at her side, allowing her to take the lead as she took them out onto the street, a blast of air hitting them once the seal of the doors was pushed open. Outside, no one paid her any mind, her driver being the only person that acknowledged her with a grin on his face. 

"Morning!" she chirped, feeling more relaxed now that he was nearby. 

"Morning, (Y/N)," he greeted, opening the backseat door with a flourish for her. His gaze only shifted for a moment to her companion, but she knew he was much too polite to ask for details about any of her guests. 

Setting one foot inside, (Y/N) hesitated as she looked around the SUV door to Sully. "Sully, this is Harry," she started, tossing her hand in Harry's direction, "He's my new bodyguard"—her tongue felt odd around the word—"Harry, this is Sully. He's my primary driver." 

Sully gave her a momentary look the second he heard the word bodyguard. Out of most people in her life, he knew her almost better than Francesca, so he knew just as well as she did that a security detail wasn't something (Y/N) was in need of. Nonetheless, he kept his polite smile on his face when addressing Harry. 

"Nice to meet you, Harry," he said, offering a gentle hand out to shake. 

"Nice to meet you," Harry said with a gruff anchor to his voice. 

That was all that was shared before (Y/N) stepped into the car, Harry following behind her. Though she was sure Sully felt the same way she did about the situation, he didn't let any of it show when he took his spot in the driver's seat, his eyes meeting hers through the rearview mirror. 

"The new place still, (Y/N)?"

"Yes, please," she answered, a soft smile on her face. 

As they started the drive through the city, skyscrapers towering on either side of the street and too many people on the sidewalks, (Y/N) pulled out her phone. Though she was aware of Harry's presence on the bench seat beside her only inches away, she ignored him in favor of pulling up Francesca's text thread in her messages. 

Fran🫧

      are u bringing your bodyguard????? 

      jk ofc you are he has to come w u everywhere lol is he still cute today tho or was the other day just bc you saw him for the first time???? 

As much as she loved Franny like a sister, she didn't really want to talk about Harry at the moment. She knew much of brunch was going to be spent talking about her new security or talking around him as all of the girls were going to be varying levels of nosy about it all. (Y/N) didn't have a lot of interest in starting that trend any earlier than needed. 

Instead, she began scrolling through her Instagram explore page full of photos of nail art and cooking videos she planned on looking up the recipes for later. Ever-polite, Sully was the one to break the silence that filled the cab of his vehicle. 

"How long will you be joining us, Harry?" he asked, kind blue eyes shining in the rearview mirror. 

Uninterested as ever, Harry didn't break his gaze from where he was observing through the window. "As long as it takes for her father to be convinced that she's finally grown up." 

It was a callous remark, but one (Y/N) had heard before just in a different voice. It was an interesting thing to hear those biting words lack the familiarity of her father's tone. She'd never heard them like that before. 

Flicking her gaze up from her phone, she spotted Sully in the mirror through the fan of her lashes. He gave her one of those soft smiles he'd also seen him give his daughter before. It made it a bit easier to let that remark slide off her back when she knew he was on her side. 

"Won't be very long then," Sully continued, tipping his chin up in confidence, "It doesn't take very long to see how kind and responsible Ms. (Y/N) is, despite what all those silly magazines like to say." 

(Y/N) directed a quiet smile down at her phone. She hoped Sully knew just how much she appreciated him. 

—————

"I'll be back around noon, okay?" Sully said, offering a helping hand to (Y/N) as she stepped out of the SUV and onto the grey concrete sidewalk, "Let me know if you need me sooner or want to stay longer." 

Nodding her head, she gave him a bubbly smile with soft lips and warm cheeks. "Thank you." 

"It's my pleasure," he answered, squeezing her hand in his as she steadied herself on the concrete.

With Harry at her side, Sully was sent off with a wave from her manicured fingers. 

Though it wasn't new to feel eyes on her at time when she was out, it was different to have someone following along with her. His job was to watch her, and he made it known with the way she could feel his gaze stitched to her. He only drifted when he made a point to take in their surroundings. 

Was he even supposed to sit with them? Was he going to eat beside her? What was his job when it came to events like this? 

(Y/N) tried to think back to what Francesca's bodyguard would do, but she couldn't remember him ever joining them for a meal in public. Barry was typically meant to watch over Fran when no one else was around, leaving those group settings without him. Was Harry to do the same? Was he going to sit elsewhere or guard their table like a circling vulture? 

Her head hurt just thinking about it. Harry would do whatever he decided to do, she settled on. This wasn't his first security job, so hopefully he would do whatever he was used to with Camila and Monroe. 

Harry pushed the entrance door open for her, taking her by surprise as she stepped into the trendiest brunch spot in the city at the moment. Everything was sleek and warm, glass with golden hinges, wood pieces with uniform swirls and knots. Inauthentic authenticity. Falling into character, a bright smile landed on (Y/N)'s lips, her phone clutched in one hand with her purse hanging from the crook of her elbow. The clack of her heels was drowned out by the sound of chattering patrons and a busy kitchen. 

"Hello, how are you?" The young man stationed at the host stand greeted her, a dark denim uniform adorning his form. (Y/N) almost cringed for him; she couldn't imagine how hot it must be to work all day in a heavy outfit like that. 

"Hi, I'm good thank you," she greeted, feeling Harry just behind her as if he were breathing down her neck. How would he analyze this conversation? "I'm here to meet a few friends—there should be a reservation under—" 

Cutting her off, the boy piped up with, "Francesca, right? She and a few others just got here." 

Now that she wasn't so distracted by his outfit, she could see recognition in his gaze. He knew who she was and was definitely peeking over her shoulder to see who her companion was. 

"That's them," (Y/N) chirped, canting her head as the boy tapped away at the computer in front of him. 

"Perfect," he beamed, glancing up nonchalantly at them, "And will he be taking the sixth seat at the table?" 

A clear attempt to fish, but not one (Y/N) was going to be able to ignore. "Yes, please." 

The way the boy's eyes brightened had (Y/N) already dreading the articles that she would be tagged in across every social media platform, the headlines teasing about her new "mystery man" with all of the sources being an anonymous instagram account known for spreading gossip. Because that's journalism. 

"Follow me," he said, waving his hand as he stepped out from behind the podium.

Harry was a ghost behind her as (Y/N) made small talk with the host, answering with polite chatter about the weather while being led through the restaurant. Through the crowded tables, Francesca and the three other girls they frequently went out with came into view. Glasses of bubbling mimosas and an appetizer of cheese and crackers adorned the table, matching that of the rest of the patrons indulging in the brunch rush. 

Francesca was the first to spot them once the host dropped them off with a quiet wish for she and Harry to enjoy their food before he was off again. Fran's eyes lit up when she saw her, only for them to widen that much more when Harry came into view behind her. 

"(Y/N)," she cheered, gaining the attention of the other girls who broke their absent chatter to turn to face them. Fran no doubt had told them that (Y/N) would be bringing a guest. 

"Hi," she smiled, maneuvering around the table to the two empty seats between Emma and Rita, "Sorry I'm late. My makeup was not doing its job this morning." 

Emma piped up then, "No worries, honey! We're just happy you could make it. We already ordered a mimosa for you and some appetizers and all." 

Despite the girls seemingly talking to her, their eyes continuously drifted to her companion that ghosted behind her. Pulling out her chair, (Y/N) dropped her purse on the table before looking across from her to where Francesca was sat. Even she was pretending as if she wasn't bubbling in anticipation over Harry. 

"Thanks, guys," she said, taking her seat with Harry doing the same beside her, "Everyone, this is Harry. I bet Fran already told you a little bit, but he's going to be my personal security for the next few months or so. We're still trying to figure out how this all works for it, so thanks for letting him tag along today." 

"Of course," Kita giggled, leaning with her elbow on the table, "Fran did tell us that you were bringing someone special today." 

"Right," (Y/N) laughed, feeling slightly exposed despite the fact none of the girls were even looking at her. "I promised him we'd be on our best behavior today, so don't ruin this for me." 

The laughter that bubbled around the table was just a touch too melodious, too airy and light. Francesca even made eyes at (Y/N); she approved of him, that much was obvious. 

"I'm sure we'll still have fun with him," Toriana said, her spot right across from Harry making it easy for her to reach across and offer her hand up in greeting, "I'm Toriana, but the girls just call me Ana." 

"Nice to meet you," Harry answered, taking her hand into his in that same firm grip (Y/N) remembered. 

A domino effect started then, each of the girls taking the time to personally introduce themselves. Toriana and Kita were more than a little interested in him, asking questions right off the bat that (Y/N) wished they would keep to themselves. Franny and Emma seemed to prefer to watch, piping in at moments with their own bubbly comments or peals of laughter. Harry, reserved as ever, barely interacted. 

(Y/N) didn't know why she liked that as much as she did. Maybe it was just nice knowing she wasn't the only person he was cold with. Even if he did still end up talking to the girls more than he had all weekend with her. 

Soon enough—long enough still that (Y/N) sipped through a glass and a half of water, the cheese plate had dissipated to crumbs, and breakfast orders had been placed—the shine of Harry had finally been lost on the girls. The shorter his answers became the clearer the message that he wasn't interested in sharing became. Though Kita didn't pull too far away from him and Fran had eyes on him every few moments, there wasn't much fun in talking to a wall. 

The gossip shifted around the table, new topics being introduced as wait staff appeared to refill drained mimosa glasses. (Y/N) was seventy percent sure she saw one of the denim-clad employees pull her phone out and snap a shot of the table while clearing their small appetizer plates. No one seemed to notice the girl other than she and Harry, his eyes narrowing when he caught sight of the camera tilted in their direction. She wouldn't be surprised if the photo captured Harry's harsh gaze. 

Ignoring the snooping employee, (Y/N) tried to tune into the story Emma was sharing that had the rest of the table enraptured. As funny and kind as Emma was, she loved to gossip; she loved knowing things, even if the information had nothing to do with her. More often than not (Y/N) preferred to check out of her particularly scandalous stories, just because she knew what it was like to be the name coming off of other's lips in a spit. Francesca was the same, preferring to stay out of it all.

But, this story caught both of their attention for all the wrong reasons. 

"Then, I heard that Christal's parents are separating, because her dad also cheated with one of Christal's friends that got an internship at his company," Emma chattered, dipping her chin as if she was actually trying to keep this information a secret for only the table to hear. 

Toriana gasped, her hand coming up to cover her mouth with wide eyes. Leaning over the table, she conspired with Emma in a hushed tone that was far from being any level of quiet, "I heard they were separating because her mom was paying off her doctor to write prescriptions for, like, everything. Her dad is so over it, so he's supposed to be filing officially next week." 

The mention of prescriptions and doctors who didn't care to help anymore stung at (Y/N) behind her walls. It was bad enough speaking about Christal and her family dynamics when they barely knew her outside of nights partying in the Upper West Side, but those kinds of rumors weren't something (Y/N) could ever imagine repeating. Drug use and the breaking up of a marriage—no matter the reason—were things none of them should be discussing when they had no idea what was truly going on. 

It made (Y/N) think of her own parents and the years of swirling tabloids trying to figure out just how long her parents were on the rocks and what exactly had gone wrong. It was more than invasive. 

(Y/N)'s nails quietly tapped on the table as the attention was placed on her, her voice piping up once Emma finally paused for a breath, "We probably shouldn't be talking about this stuff, guys." 

Emma was the first to turn to her with a slighted look on her face, surprised to have anyone stopping her in the middle of her speculations. The remaining pairs of eyes turned to her, Francesca the only one that seemed to match her protesting while Kita and Toriana were just as taken aback as Emma. 

Saved by the bell, their waitress chose then to appear with trays of their food in her arms. Bowls of salads and plates of eggs were distributed amongst the girls, Harry's order being of avocado toast though she couldn't imagine him picking off more than a couple of bites with the way he was so focused on the scene around him. The women had settled while they were being waited on, beaming smiles and assurances that everything was perfect, they would love a refill, and whatever chattering small talk was started by the waitress in the meantime. 

It wasn't until everything had been cleared away, a plate of eggs Benedict with a kale apple salad off to the side in front of (Y/N), that Emma turned to face her once more. 

Now she was less shocked and more bewildered that (Y/N) had tried to end her conversation. "Don't you want to know what happened though, (Y/N)?" she asked, incredulous, "Her parents always seemed so obsessed with each other, doesn't that make you want to know even more?" 

"Sure," (Y/N) started, "But, it's a little too personal, don't you think? Especially if any of this is true, it's all probably really hard on Christal. I don't think it's fair to talk about it when we don't know anything about it, and she's not even here." 

That expression of furrowed brows and parted lips didn't leave Emma's face as (Y/N) spoke. "I mean I guess, but—" 

Before she could get much further, (Y/N) couldn't help but to step in. "Honestly, I'd rather hear about you and your fashion designer," (Y/N) started, leaning towards Emma with a conspiratorial smile on her face, "You haven't brought him up at all, even though you've posted him on your story at least five times now." 

Watching her friends' features light up told her just how effective her new topic was. There was nothing—not even hot gossip—Emma loved talking about more than herself. 

"You mean Stavros? What could you ever want to know about him?" Emma bubbled, acting coy with a lift of her shoulder and flutter of her lashes. 

"Stavros?! You never told me that was his name!" Kita chimed in, filling in where (Y/N) had left off. 

All it took was Emma starting with a Well... to get the table submitting again to conversation full of bubbling giggles and blushing cheeks, teases of Stavros's name and Emma's story telling about their time together so far. Even Francesca, after shooting (Y/N) a small smile, became invested in the chronicle of Emma's love life. 

Falling into silence, satisfied at the reroute of the conversation, (Y/N) finally tried the food in front of her. From the corner of her eye, she saw Harry observing her with calculating eyes, a pinch in his brow.

Suddenly, she felt more exposed than when dozens of cameras were posed in her direction. Was she not supposed to interfere like that? Was this new topic somehow equal to the one Emma had initially embarked on? 

Honestly, (Y/N) had almost forgotten about Harry's presence when she stepped in and redirected Emma into safer territory, but now she was wondering if she would have benefited more from keeping her mouth shut. Who knew what he would report back to her father with; how he would spin these events.

"(Y/N), don't you know his cousin? That Ferrill girl we met in Milan?" Francesca's voice chirping out her name had (Y/N) dropping back into the conversation, grateful for a distraction from what she was overthinking in her mind. 

"Oh, yeah, Ferrill! She's Stavros's cousin?..." 

—————

"You really have to go home?" 

Kita's over-pouted lips and pleading pulled a laugh out of (Y/N) as she pulled her into a hug. 

"I know, I'm sorry," she started, reciprocating her friend's hold, "You know I'd love to go with you guys if I could, but I already promised I'd call my stylist later today."

"I know," Kita whined, pulling away with her hug still around (Y/N)'s middle, "I just feel like you barely talked this morning, and I miss you."

 Despite being around them and having spent the better part of two hours with these girls, (Y/N) missed them too. Kita wasn't wrong in that she barely talked for the morning, Harry being a constant, extra fine sifter that filtered her thoughts before she even had them ready to go. It was hard to talk as freely when she knew he was analyzing every single syllable on her lips. 

"I'm sorry," (Y/N) pouted, playing along, "But, I'm sure I'll see you again soon. And, if you want, you can FaceTime me later so I can see what you got." 

Kita seemed satisfied with that answer, pulling (Y/N) in for another hug before joining the rest of the women who were beckoning to join them as they started down the sidewalk. Hugs and goodbyes had already been shared amongst the rest of them, Francesca promising to text her before she even had a chance to make it home. 

With a final wave from the three of them and calls of "Bye, Harry!", (Y/N) was left by Sully's car with an extra shadow. 

The truth was, she couldn't imagine trekking down Fifth Ave with Harry following behind her. It was uncomfortable enough to have him sit and eat with her, even more so thinking about him watching as she chattered with her friends and tried on different pieces of clothing. 

"Ready to head home?" Sully asked, hand poised on the handle of the back passenger seat for her. 

"Yes, please," she sighed, eagerly stepping in when he pulled open the door for her.

Following behind her, Harry settled in beside her in the back seat, the faux-leather soft under their weight. Sully smoothly integrated himself within the New York traffic, maneuvering around in ways that made (Y/N) that much more grateful that she wasn't the one in charge. 

Decompressing, her eyes fluttered closed with her shoulders untensing. It wasn't until now that she realized just how tightly she had been wound during the meal. No wonder she could feel the beginning band of an ache forming in her head. 

Breaking the static silence in the cab, Harry asked, "Is it always like that?" 

"Like what?" (Y/N) pressed, brows knitting together in the middle though her eyelids didn't flutter. 

She could hear the sound of him shifting against the leather. "Like, everything going on at once?" 

"A little," (Y/N) admitted, the words leaving on a breathing laugh, "This was on the tamer side. Usually, Toriana will try to debate everyone into agreeing to get a mimosa tower for the table—that's when things start happening all at once." 

A beat passed, (Y/N) assuming he was fine with the stopping point of the conversation until he spoke again. 

"Y'didn't drink today." 

Though it was less of a question and more of a statement, she still answered with, "No." 

"Why not?" 

Shrugging, her clothing shuffled against the faux-leather. "I don't really like drinking this early—it makes me too tired, so I don't usually do it." 

Despite the fact she didn't hear his voice again, (Y/N) could feel Harry's eyes on her through the remaining drive to her apartment.

—————

Laid flat on her back on her bed, (Y/N) raised her hand to look at the time on her phone once more. The closer the clock numbers to ten a.m., the more she wanted to curl up in her sheets. 

Dressed in her pastel pink workout set with her hair braided back and tennis shoes on her feet, (Y/N) was more than ready to head to her pilates class. She wanted to luxuriate in her poses and breathing, get a smoothie afterwards as her cooldown, and live her normal routine. The only problem was Harry. 

Though she loathed to admit it, she knew he was supposed to accompany her. Even if he wasn't policing her at home, she knew there were no exceptions to the rule of him going with her throughout her day should she chose to go out and about. That was the whole point of his job. 

She wanted to do as Francesca had told her—that she still needed to live her life even if it was with an extra shadow—, but, even with the fact that the Sunday brunch had gone well enough, taking Harry to her pilates class was completely different. She lacked friends in her class anyway, and this wouldn't make it any better. Most of the women already judged her enough, adding Harry into the mix wasn't going to help her case in not looking as pretentious and spoiled like they thought. 

Maybe, she could get away with only sending him a text? It wasn't as if she were going to an event or a high-profile dinner. Maybe her dad wouldn't care, leaving Harry to not care either. There wasn't much trouble she could get into while controlling her breathing and wiping sweat off the back of her neck, anyway. 

Looking at the time once more, she saw the minutes click that much closer to the start time for her usual session. Her chest rose as she pulled in a deep breath. 

If she wanted to get there on time and get a good spot, she was going to have to text Harry and move on. Sully was on the way anyway, she had to make her choice now before she had to cancel the car and instead curl up in bed just like she had been for three days since brunch. 

The sound of (Y/N)'s nails tapping at her phone screen filled her room as she made to sit up amongst the folds in her duvet.

     morning, harry! just wanted to let you know that im headed to my pilates class right now. it should end around 11 and i'll probably grab a smoothie after, so i'll be on my way back to my apartment after that. lmk if you need anything like to get into my apartment or anything like that before im home ! 

As soon as she pressed send with the blue bubble inflating against the dark background, she locked her phone. She couldn't overthink this whole thing anymore. She had plans she needed to stick to if she wanted to stay normal. 

The notification that Sully was downstairs waiting for her couldn't have come soon enough, not when she finished packing her things much too quickly. 

"No Harry?" Sully asked once she was secure in the back seat, the morning sun shining on the grimy streets of the city. 

Avoiding his gaze in the rearview mirror, (Y/N) shook her head. "Not today." 

—————

Buzz-buzz.

(Y/N) cinched her eyes closed tighter at the sound of a phone vibrating deep in someone's bag. her breathing came in even waves, chest rising and falling in even measures. 

Buzz-buzz.

One of the other students faltered on their breathing, the teacher pausing just a second too long in-between instructions as everyone heard the incessant noise.

"Now, take a breath and stretch into your high plank," the morning's instructor directed, voice calm in the middle of the studio, "Keep the height to your comfort, no reason to strain past a slight burn." 

Taking in a deep breath, (Y/N) listened with her hands planted solidly on the mat under her. Her back stretched slowly, legs keeping her steady as she fell back into the rhythm of the session.

Until another round of buzzing started, this string clearly from a phone call that was going to be ignored. 

The strength in her core faltered with her eyes cinched to a tight close at the sound.

(Y/N) knew good and well that it was her phone that was going crazy at the bottom of her bag, but there was no way she was going to make that obvious to anyone else in the class. She was sure a good chunk of them already assumed it was her anyway, but that didn't mean she had to admit to it. 

Instead, she kept up with the poses and the directions given, ignoring the device as best as she could. She was going to enjoy this class as much as she could before she would be forced to renter her reality.

She already knew what kind of notifications were waiting for her, anyway. Either Francesca and the girls randomly decided to start up another group chat, or Harry wasn't pleased with her decision to head out for the day with nothing more than a text sent his way. Either way, (Y/N) didn't want to deal with either of those things at the moment. 

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but would the owner of the phone that keeps going off, please, either silence or turn off your phone for the remainder of the class? I'm sure the class would appreciate the chance to keep their focus without any more interruptions." 

Despite her tone of voice being respectful and calm as ever, (Y/N) knew the instructor was pissed. No matter how well-paying her clients were, there was no way she could keep standing for disruptions like this. Blinking her eyes open, she saw the rest of the class on the same level as their instructor: just as annoyed but feigning calmness as if the last half hour hadn't been spent ignoring phone call after phone call with text messages in between. 

She couldn't get up now, (Y/N) thought. Not when everyone was waiting to see who the culprit was so they could shoot daggers with their gaze. She could only imagine what the post-class powwow of complaints would sound like. 

(Y/N) cringed when her phone went off once more, the device rattling against a tube of lipgloss to make it that much lounger. 

Fuck. This was worse than waking up and seeing drunken photos of her posted. At least then she didn't have a dozen other people staring at her in the process. 

When her phone went off once more in what she hoped was a reminder notification and not another set of messages coming through, (Y/N) couldn't take it anymore. She had to fix this if she wanted to at least be welcomed back. 

Just as she went to break her pose, a clatter could be heard on the other side of the door. Muffled voices broke through the curated tranquility of the studio, sounding more and more aggravated as they drew closer to the room she was in. The doorknob twisted, resistance found on the other side when a clear "Sir!" was called through. 

A beat later, that resistance was broken, Harry barreling through the door. With a furrow pinching his brow and a blaze in his eyes, he looked just as bitter and grumpy as a stereotypical bouncer and not the seasoned security detail he was. His usual uniform of all black was crumpled and creased with his hair a mess on the top of his head. 

"Sir, there is a class in session!" A voice (Y/N) recognized from the front desk of the studio burst in behind him. Harry didn't flinch back for even a second. 

The second his gaze landed on her, his jaw hardened. "(Y/N)," he gritted out her name, "Come here, now." 

Having crumbled from her pose to sit with her legs folded underneath her, (Y/N) felt stuck where she sat. She could practically spot steam coming from the top of Harry's head. Her skin heated when she felt others' eyes land on her. 

This was definitely much, much worse than if she had just answered her phone. 

"Harry," she started, unsure of what exactly she was going to say but feeling as if she needed to say something anyway. 

His nose flared. "Sully is waiting outside. Let's go." 

There was a finality in her tone that had her scrambling to collect her things as soon as possible. The room was silent as she messily rolled her mat and clumsily stepped into her shoes. 

A mumbled thank you was offered to the silent instructor as she passed, a matching apology being told to the class though she was sure both sentiments fell on deaf ears. (Y/N) was definitely going to have to switch studios again. 

She wasn't surprised to see the rest of the studio having fallen in line, patrons and classes quiet and paused after the ruckus caused on her behalf. (Y/N) could only imagine the photos others snapped of her following after Harry like a puppy with her tail between her legs. She already knew what this was going to look like—the loud scene as well as following after Harry the way she was. 

Sully didn't say anything when (Y/N) quickly slipped into the backseat, Harry coming after with a loud slam of the door behind. 

The interior was almost humid with the way Harry fumed beside her, his arms a tight cross over his chest and his jaw anchored closed. From the corner of her eye, she could see the way his fingers were curled into fists under the shelter of his arms. 

(Y/N) felt silly to be sitting there with her cardigan and leggings, hands in her lap like a reprimanded child. 

The silence stretched on as Sully pulled away from the curb, routing directly back to her apartment without question. 

It wasn't until there was a stop in the traffic that any of them dared to speak a single word. Of course, it was Harry.

"I don't know what you were thinking this morning," he started, voice deceptively calm, "But, you almost cost me my job with that stunt." 

Staying quiet, she didn't know what to say. Honestly, she hadn't really thought about it like that when she left without him this morning. She had only been considering the pit in her stomach and how much she hadn't wanted to disrupt her own life. She acted just as selfish as she was sure Harry thought her to be at her core. 

From the corner of her eye, she could see the way Harry's gaze on her profile sharpened. She kept her eyes on her hands. 

"I thought we had a good understanding after this weekend, but I think I need to make a few things especially clear for you," he started, (Y/N) finally chancing a look at him. Harry's gaze steeled when she matched him. "When I was given this job, I was told to go with you everywhere, and 'm sure you were told the same thing. I don't care if you think your fathers's company, or the 'public' or whoever you think is my client, because that is not the truth. You are my client, and if you make trouble like this again, I will lose my job. Because of you." 

(Y/N) had never been reprimanded like this before, not as fat as she could remember. Her father's scoldings had never been this effective, even when she was young enough to still care what he had to say. 

Her throat was dry as she piped up, hoping to explain herself, "It was just my pilates class. I didn't think it would be a big deal." 

That seemed to be the very worst thing she could have said with the way Harry's shoulders tensed with hot air with his jaw quirked. His eye contact was unwavering as he glared at her. 

"I knew I was going to have to babysit you, but I didn't think it would be this much of a problem. Going forward, I do not care where you are going, I am going with you. I know you don't want me here, so the quicker you follow this and get over whatever princess complex you have after getting everything handed to you, the quicker we'll both be free of this contract. Please keep that in mind the next time you decide to go off with just a text." 

Harry's tone was harsh and grating, flaming hot underneath the calm facade he was just well-versed with as her own bubbly princess role. He could rival her father in just how much disdain he held for her. 

She couldn't blame his perception of her, really. With the way both her father and the media spoke of her, she could only imagine the kind of person she looked to be in his eyes. 

Nonetheless, (Y/N) could still feel that sting of hurt. 

But, he was right. Now, she knew where they stood. Now, she could try harder to get over her princess complex and show her father she didn't need a ghost and everything could go back to normal. 

If she tried hard enough, she could hopefully still make it to spend the winter in Francesca's family's Swiss cabin free of an extra shadow. That was a goal she could work towards this summer. 

"I understand," she told him, checking out of the conversation now that she had her own plan working in the background, her own terms to follow, "I'm sorry I put you in that position. I didn't mean anything by it, I just didn't think it was the kind of thing to bother you over." 

Deflating some, Harry blinked, his gaze falling down her features. "Okay," he settled, golden flecks swimming in his irises, "Now, we're both on the same page." 

(Y/N) quietly agreed with a small nod. 

The rest of the car ride was silent.

—————

Without a second thought, (Y/N) stowed the newest heavy, photo-laden envelope into her drawer of the others. She already knew what kind of pictures would be inside and the kind of story her admirer had spun in her honor. It would be the same photos that had been distributed by the same anonymous Instagram blog that always posted them along with the same story that all the tabloids picked up the next day. 

According to the internet as well as a few gullible publications, (Y/N) had shown up drunk to her class and Harry had come to collect her. Harry was also no longer her mystery man, and now her affair partner that she had cheated on Damien Moore with. Damien was also reportedly very hurt to be seeing her with Harry after everything that had gone down. Broken-hearted by the ice queen, one publication had been so bold to claim. Blurry photos accompanied the articles and tweets, with her looking to Harry with watery eyes ("alcohol-glazed") like a reprimanded child as she followed him out. 

Her admirer had no doubt clung to the claims that she was in a romantic relationship, their own version of events meandering around it all to erase the legitimacy of the claims along with photos of her back at her apartment without him to solidify their theory. While they would be right this time, that she and Harry were not linked in any way but professional, it still didn't make her feel very safe knowing they had gone to the length they did to verify as much as well as send a letter to prove it all. 

It'd been days since the incident and one day since the news hit the circuits, and (Y/N) was more than comfortable hiding out at her apartment to ensure she wouldn't have to deal with anyone, including Harry, until her nail appointment on Thursday. The whole thing was more than stupid, full of baseless claims and low-quality photos. It didn't deserve her attention. 

The only thing that had truly caught her off guard, was the lack of phone calls from her father. A full day had passed with the story being tweeted and mocked, and yet there was no scathing text message or berating call sent to her phone. This was just the type of story that would have him up in arms and fuming all throughout the mansion. The longer it didn't come, the more she felt on edge. 

Her father was built on being predictable, so when he deviated from the norm she couldn't help but to fear the worst. 

Ignoring it all for the time being, (Y/N) returned to her kitchen eager to take her mind off things in the form of trying out one of her stored up recipes. 

While she didn't usually have the chance to share it with others, cooking was one of (Y/N)'s favorite pastimes—a therapeutic hobby. She liked putting flavors together and the technique that went into making everything just the way she liked it. There was structure to it all—even the bendable rules gave her guidelines. 

Especially when she was attending her private school and spending her time in dorms and weekends alone at her parents' home, food was the one thing she could control that gave her a routine. She liked making cute meals and lunches for her friends at school and taking advantage of the illustrious pantry and fridge she had at home. It was easy to nurture her love for it when there was no other outlet open for her feelings. 

While there was nothing special she could imagine herself doing with her passion like she was sure that her father would have wanted, it didn't cheapen the love for her at all. It was the easiest way to fill herself with love even when she felt as if everything around her was hateful. 

Turning her phone to silent, (Y/N) happily turned on a rerun of her favorite cooking competition show, and started on her own meal. 

—————

élan is a French word that describes the sense of a movement coming; the grace with which time moves towards the next chapter

eeeek! thank u sm for reading! sorry for any mistakes and please lmk if theres any fun ideas or thoughts you have!

[fluentmoviequoter]

Me and the Ring

Part 2 of Me or the Ring

Pairing: Hal Jordan x fem!reader

Summary: After Hal broke your heart and failed his mission, the Guardians send Kyle to pick up where he left off. You can't trust Hal, but that doesn't mean you don't love him.

Warnings: angst to fluff, some suggestiveness/objectification (it's innocent, just Hal Jordan flirting), lots of DC Lantern lore references. ignore the incorrect timeline of the GLs

Word Count: 2.9k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist | DC/Hal Jordan Masterlist

Coast City isn’t the same without Hal Jordan. Every time you see Green Lantern fly across the sky or a picture of him on the news, you miss your Flyboy a little more. Leaving Hal was the right choice, or so you keep telling yourself. As you walk out of a mediocre coffee shop, because you’re too nervous and heartbroken to return to the one where you met Hal, you accidentally bump into someone.

“Sorry,” you murmur without looking up.

“I’m not,” the man replies.

You glance up at his face before dropping your eyes again. He moves his arm, and you see something green reflect the sunlight.

“I’m not interested,” you say. “Excuse me.”

“Look, I know I started poorly,” the man continues, moving to block your path. “But let me start over? My name’s Kyle.”

“Okay. Kyle, get out of my way.”

“Where’s Gardner?” Kilowog mumbles. “Guardians sent ‘em both, but I ain’t seen him since we left.”

“I’m not worried about Guy,” Hal replies. “She keeps backing up. She’s different than she was with me. This is all my fault, Kilowog.”

“You’re right, poozer. But don’t give your apology to me.”

Hal sighs as he watches you. He can’t hear, but Kilowog’s Bolovaxian ears pick up every catch of your breath.

“Hal,” he grunts. “He’s taking her somewhere.”

Kyle sighs, and when his shoulder rolls back, you see the unmistakable ring on his finger. Another Green Lantern. As if one breaking your heart wasn’t enough, they still think you are guilty of some intergalactic crime spree.

“Kyle, I’m late for a meeting. Maybe I could give you my number?” you suggest.

Playing along seems like the best option. He smiles and moves again, blatantly showing off the ring. You accept his phone and input a fake name and a fake number.

“Now, lying isn’t nice,” Kyle says as he takes his phone back.

“What?”

“That’s not your name.”

You take a step back as your face drops in worry. Hal was never this pushy, and you wish he was here now. Before you can turn on your heel to run, Kyle reaches out and wraps a hand around your arm.

“If you don’t willingly go back to Oa and confess to your crimes, I will drag you across the worst planets I can think of on the way,” he threatens quietly.

You fumble with your phone at your side, navigating to your favorite contacts with only one name in mind.

“C’mon, you’re my girl,” Hal murmurs as he watches Kyle lean in to speak. “You know what to do. Don’t trust him.”

“She just said your name,” Kilowog announces.

A single second later, Hal’s phone rings. At the same time, a sapphire portal opens behind you and Kyle. Hal is angry for you, at Kyle, at the situation, but he doesn’t bother to answer your call as Kyle pulls you closer.

“Rayner,” Hal greets as he lands beside you. “Let her go.”

You lean toward Hal, and Kyle’s eyes remain on the opening portal.

“This isn’t over, Jordan,” he responds. “She’s coming back to Oa.”

“Don’t do this,” Kilowog says as he lands behind Kyle.

Your eyes widen at the sight of Kilowog, another Green Lantern. Hal steps closer to you, and you find comfort in his proximity. The other Green Lantern is large, but he seems to be with Hal, unlike Kyle.

“Last chance,” Hal tells Kyle. “Don’t make this worse.”

Sapphire sparks fly off the portal as it reaches its peak. Kyle hesitates before releasing his grip on you. His suit forms around him before he flies away, but you use your new freedom to turn toward Hal. You grip his suit, although you’re surprised you can actually feel it, and hide your face against his chest.

“This is Kilowog,” Hal says calmly. He presses a hand against your back to keep you close before promising, “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, pretty girl.”

As Kilowog steps back urgently, you anticipate that Hal will break yet another promise. The portal begins shrinking suddenly, and Kilowog yells something before an unseen force pulls you closer to the pink circle.

When you open your eyes, Kilowog groans in a language you don’t recognize. You step back, out of Hal’s hold, and look around.

“Where are we?” you ask softly.

“Zamaron,” Kilowog answers.

“Why can I breathe?”

“My ring,” Hal says. “I can create an atmosphere for you.”

“How am I supposed to go home?”

“I’ll get you home, I promise.”

“Stop promising! Tell me how!” you demand.

Hal sees the fear in your eyes and shakes his head. “I don’t know yet,” he admits.

“Okay. What now?”

“Hal!” Kilowog alerts. “We’ve got company.”

“Hello,” a pink-skinned woman says as she lands before you.

Hal moves quickly to press himself against your back. You want to find comfort in the touch, but you’re terrified and don’t want to fall for another Hal Jordan trick.

“The Guardians- the guys who make the rings thought you were working with her,” Hal whispers.

You turn to look over your shoulder with wide eyes. The accusations have a new layer of unbelievability, now. There’s a sapphire ring on her finger, and when she doesn’t acknowledge the Green Lanterns with you, you tense your shoulders nervously.

“I’m sorry,” Hal adds.

“Save it,” you snap. “Tell me when you get me back to Coast City.”

Hal nods, and you turn away. There are more women before you now, and you unconsciously lean against Hal before he is pulled away.

“Take the men to their quarters,” the woman commands. “Welcome to Zamaron, human.”

“Where are you taking my friends?” you ask.

One of the women lays a hand on your back, but you step forward to preserve your personal space. They let you follow at your own pace, though they do not answer your question.

“Where did you take them?” you repeat loudly.

“Do not be concerned. Our atmosphere has adapted to your presence, so you no longer need the men to protect you,” someone answers.

“We are taking you to my palace,” the first woman says. “I am the current leader of Zamaron, and I would like to extend our hospitality to you.”

“I would appreciate a plane ticket home a bit more than hospitality,” you argue.

“In time. You will have the chance to return home, I assure you.”

You continue in silence. The palace appears as you turn a corner, and you wonder where Hal and Kilowog are. If you needed him, could he come? Would he?

“We have to get out of here, Kilowog,” Hal says before hitting the prison bars again.

“You know we can’t,” Kilowog replies.

“She is out there alone! I’m not going to just sit here and accept my fate!”

“I’m not tellin’ you too, poozer. I’m sayin’ that you need a new approach. You’re not a hero, remember?”

Hal nods as he begins pacing. “Right. I’m not a hero. But I am a Flyboy.”

Kilowog agrees before asking, “Is this a translation problem or are you making up words?”

“They’re going to offer her a ring, Kilowog,” Hal says. “I trust her, but she doesn’t know what the Sapphires do.”

“You broke her heart. If she accepts the ring, you’re her first stop.”

“Trust me. I know.”

“She called for help, Hal. Work on finding a way to do that.”

“You have strong emotions toward the human Lantern,” the leader of Zamaron muses. “Is there love?”

“Not anymore,” you answer.

“I see. My friends and I here are the Star Sapphire Corps. Do you know what that means?”

“I don’t. We humans aren’t well-versed in the whole ring thing.”

She chuckles, her laughter just as royal and majestic as her voice. “Star Sapphires are a race built on love. As our first members said, ‘Life without love is blasphemy.’ Tell me, what would you do for a life of love and power?”

“Work,” you answer. “Love and power aren’t given; they’re earned and created.”

“Poor child, you have no idea of the possibilities in the universe. Accept a ring, join our people, and the life you crave, the love you no longer have, can be yours.”

You shake your head, determined to get off of this planet. “I just want to go home.”

“And you may. A portal can be made available to you.”

“Thank you. Can I see my friends now?”

“I fear you misunderstand. We, women, are the only beings who understand what love truly is. There is no place for men on Zamaron.”

“You’re going to kill them,” you realize. “You kill all men.”

“We free them from their failed responsibilities. They cannot love, so they cannot live.”

“That’s not true.”

“Your Hal Jordan could not love you as you deserve. What proof do you have?”

“I- I can show you.”

“Green Lanterns are not to be trusted. Prove your worth with a ring or return home. Without your unfortunate friends.”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath before saying, “I would like a ring. Hal Jordan used me, and he must learn what life without love is like. He takes but never gives. It’s my turn.”

Your dramatic speech wins over the Sapphires, and the leader nods. Another Zamaron kneels before you and slides a pink ring onto your finger. Power surges through you as sapphire ribbons circle your form.

“Go and eliminate blasphemy.”

Hal makes using a ring look much easier, and as you shakily take flight, you wish he was here to help you. Here and now, it’s your turn to help him. Hal Jordan hurt you, but he doesn’t deserve to die on an alien planet. As you fly, you use the ring to scan the planet. It happens without much conscious thought, and when you find the prison, you raise your arms and increase your flight speed.

“Hal?” you whisper at the first opening.

“Pipe down,” a woman calls from inside the prison.

The prison is full of men from different planets, but you don’t allow yourself to think about what will happen to them. They need help, but your mission is to free Hal and Kilowog. When the bars beside you shake, you follow the sound of impact around another corner. A large, green bulldozer is ramming into a wall of bars, and you shake your head in concerned amusement before raising your own ring. You form a pink coffee cup, which causes the green machine to disappear.

“Whoa,” Hal says in place of greeting. His eyes are wide at the sight of you, and he asks, “Is that a new outfit?”

“Shut up,” you demand. You haven’t looked down at the skin-tight pink bodysuit more than once, but the mention of it makes you shift uncomfortably. “We need to get out of here.”

“The door won’t open. I’ve tried everything.”

You grab a bar and open the door with minimal effort.

“Your ring’s the wrong color,” you say.

Hal and Jordan step out, and you lower your gaze to the ring momentarily. You shake your hand, and all of the cells open. The men walk out before running for cover.

“How do I get this ring off, Hal?” you ask.

“You have to prove you love and are loved at the same time, with the same person,” Kilowog answers.

“How do you know that?” Hal asks.

“Did you mean any of it? What you said at Ferris Air?” you interrupt.

Hal turns toward you and nods. “I meant all of it.”

You look into his eyes, and he sees that yours have a depth and a hurt that he missed. The hurt is his fault, but what lies behind it caused him to fall in love with you. With your eyes locked, you think about everything that Hal has done to prove he loves you, and then admit to yourself that despite his seeming betrayal and how he used you, you love him, too. The sapphire ring hits the prison floor with a clang and Hal rushes to adjust the atmosphere for you.

“You did it!” he cheers before pulling you into his arms.

“Hal, something’s wrong,” Kilowog says.

You try to agree, but everything goes black before you can.

“Ma’am are you okay?” someone asks above you.

Your head pounds until you open your eyes. The Coast City sky above you is clear and bright, and you sit up quickly at the sight and feel of earth. There’s a crowd around you, but Hal and Kilowog are nowhere in sight.

“Where’s Green Lantern?” you ask.

“He hasn’t been seen in days,” the man kneeling beside you says. “Did you hit your head?”

“I have to go,” you say as you push yourself up to stand.

Several people yell for you to wait, but you run past the coffee shop where you first met Hal on your way home. There’s a list in your mind of things you need to do. First, you have to find some comfort, and then you can worry about Hal and where he is.

“Don’t you people know how to make a phone call?” Hal complains when he realizes he and Kilowog are on Oa. “We would’ve come if you’d just sent an invite.”

“Quiet, Green Lantern Hal Jordan of Sector 2814,” Ganthet demands. “This is a trial, not a debate.”

“A trial for what?” Kilowog asks. “Bein’ imprisoned?”

“The Intergalactic Court sent you to find a woman guilty of murder, yet you allowed her to take you to Zamaron. She has been sent back to Earth, where Green Lantern Guy Gardner will do what you failed to do,” Sayd explains. “Failing in a mission that was requested is punishable to the full extent of Rimbor law.”

“We didn’t fail!” Hal argues. “She is innocent! She saved us from the Sapphires; would a killer do that?”

“Have you any proof?”

Kilowog grumbles before summoning a hologram from his ring. A blurry video of your arrival in the prison plays for the Guardians, who then turn to one another and whisper.

“Can you send me that video?” Hal whispers as he leans toward Kilowog.

“Focus, poozer,” he replies.

“The Guardians have decided to investigate this occurrence in more depth. Green Lanterns Jordan and Kilowog, you are free to go. Be prepared to return to Oa at a moment’s notice,” Ganthet announces.

“Go,” Kilowog demands. “Or you can watch that video in your dreams.”

“I think I’ll do that either way,” Hal says before disappearing into the clouds.

“Where are you, Hal Jordan?” you ask as you click another search result.

Plenty of people have claimed to see Green Lantern today, but none of them are your Flyboy. Someone knocks, and you ignore it as you add “Coast City” to the search again. The knocking continues, and you groan as you stand.

“Coming!” you yell.

“Hi, pretty girl,” Hal says as you pull the door open.

“Hi,” you reply softly. “You know, when I called you this morning, I didn’t expect anything.”

“I’ll always be here for you. You can hate me, tell me you never felt anything, but I’m yours.”

“Hal, I-“

“No. Look, I’m not going to pretend like I know what I’m doing or that I’m relationship material. But I love you, and I will help you no matter when or where. Not because of the ring that I wear, but because of who you are and how wildly in love I am with you.”

You raise your brows as he speaks, and when he finishes you say, “Love. Do you know what that means?”

“You know I do.”

“Then you know I feel the same way. But I can’t let you use me again, Hal.”

“I never thought you were guilty, and I was trying to convince the Guardians to let it go. I’m sorry that I failed and got you into even more trouble.”

“It worked out,” you remind him. “Because I love you.”

Hal smiles and grabs the jacket you’re wearing – his jacket, you remember suddenly – to pull you against his chest. “Thank you,” he murmurs before kissing you.

You grip Hal’s shirt and return the kiss, giving and receiving love at once. Your life hasn’t been short of love since Hal walked into it.

“I love you,” you say as you pull back. “I’m sorry for reacting like I did.”

“I don’t blame you for that. Walking away wasn’t,” Hal hesitates before finishing, “It didn’t change anything for me. Except make me hate myself a little for hurting you.”

“Consider it forgiven and forgotten.”

“You,” Hal says. “I choose you. Tell me that you want me to prove it and I will throw this ring into the sky and let it find a new bearer.”

You purse your lips as you consider how the ring works. When Hal raises his hand, you wrap both of your hands over his knuckles and the ring.

“This ring is part of you, so I love it, too,” you promise.

“You really do love me,” Hal says with a smile.

“Obviously.” You gesture dramatically to his jacket on your arms to reiterate your point.

Hal leans forward and drops his voice to ask, “Enough to find a sapphire outfit? To remember old times?”

You roll your eyes before walking farther into your home. “You wish, Flyboy. The jacket’s as good as it gets for you. At least until you put a ring on my finger.”

[victoryverse]

Köíng being an bully and loves to tease you the richest girl in the college and also the brat queen of all,

He just loved seeing you get angry at him,but would never say that you.He know you have an liking about his hand by the way you look at it for more then 10 minutes.

Just because you can flirty with other guy (to köíng those guys are just boys 🙄😒) Doesn't mean he doesn't flirt back with some dirty comments,loving the way your brows narrow down and how your face turns red.

But one thing is for sure is that your attitude needs an lesson to learn.

PLS NEED SMUTT

warnings: 18+, smut, cursing, sex on a bench, unprotected sex.

words: 2k

(p. s. the image made me go feral, ngl. now, imagine them naked, looking down at you like you're a fucking meal they can't wait to eat. I WOULD DIE)

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

Köíng was the self-proclaimed king of the college, and he made sure everyone knew it. He was the popular jock, the one who had all the girls swooning over him. But there was one girl who seemed to be immune to his charms - the richest girl in the college and the self-proclaimed brat queen, (Y/N).

He loved teasing her, making her angry and seeing her fiery personality come to life. It was like a game to him, and he enjoyed every moment of it. The way her face would turn red, and her brows would narrow, scratched an itch in him. And the way she would roll her eyes at his teasing, it made him wish she was doing that around his cock.

Despite his constant teasing, he couldn't deny the fact that he was attracted to her, especially the way she looked at his hands. She had a thing for Köíng's hands, and he knew it. Every time he caught her staring at them for more than 10 minutes, he couldn't help but feel a little flattered. They were huge, considering how much he worked out, and almost every girl stared at them. But, he didn't care about others, he only cared about the way she looked at them.

But he would never admit it. To him, she was just another spoiled rich girl who needed to be put in her place.

He loved pushing her buttons, especially when it came to other guys. (Y/N) was known for her flirty nature, and Köíng couldn't resist flirting back with some dirty comments, just to see her reaction.

Y/N sat at the center of a group of girls, her perfectly styled hair cascading over her shoulders and her designer clothes hugging her curves. She was the epitome of a spoiled brat, always getting what she wanted and never afraid to throw a tantrum if things didn't go her way.

But Konig was not intimidated by her reputation. In fact, he found it to be a challenge. As he sauntered over to her table, he couldn't help but smirk at the thought of how much fun it would be to tease her.

'Hey there, Y/N,' Konig said, flashing his signature charming smile.

Y/N rolled her eyes and gave him a look of disgust. 'Ugh, not you again. What do you want?'

Konig chuckled. 'Just wanted to say hello to the most beautiful girl in school.'

Y/N scoffed. 'Save your cheesy lines for someone who actually cares.'

Konig leaned against the table, his eyes never leaving Y/N's. 'Oh, I think you care. You wouldn't be talking to me if you didn't.'

Y/N raised an eyebrow. 'Please, I'm only talking to you because you're blocking my view of my friends. Move.'

Konig laughed, causing a few heads to turn in their direction. 'Feisty, I like that.'

Y/N's face turned red with anger. 'I am not 'feisty', I am a queen. And you will address me as such.'

Konig's smirk widened. 'Oh, my apologies, Your Highness. I didn't realize I was in the presence of royalty.'

Y/N huffed and turned to her friends, clearly annoyed with Konig's presence. But he wasn't finished with her yet.

'So, Y/N, what do you have planned for this weekend? A shopping spree? A spa day?'

Y/N rolled her eyes again. 'Do you honestly think I would waste my time with someone like you?'

Konig's smile never faltered. 'I don't know, I think we could have some fun together. You know what they say, opposites attract.'

Y/N's patience was wearing thin. 'Just because we're opposites, doesn't mean we attract. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have better things to do than entertain your childish attempts at flirting.'

Konig's smile turned into a smirk once again. 'Oh, but Y/N, I do love a challenge. And you seem like the ultimate challenge.'

Y/N scoffed and stood up from her seat. 'I have no time for your games, Konig. Leave me alone.'

But Konig wasn't about to give up that easily. 'Come on, just one date. I promise it will be the most fun you've ever had.'

Y/N's eyes narrowed. 'I highly doubt that.'

Konig leaned in closer to her, his voice lowering to a seductive tone. 'Oh, I can assure you, Y/N. I know all the best places to take a girl like you.'

Y/N's cheeks flushed with anger and she pushed him away. 'I am not a 'girl like me'. I am my own person, and I don't need you or anyone else to show me a good time.'

Konig's smile faded and he straightened up, his tone becoming serious. 'You know what, Y/N? You're right. I was wrong to think that you would be worth my time. You're just a spoiled brat who thinks she's better than everyone else.'

Y/N's eyes widened in shock, not used to being spoken to in such a manner. 'Excuse me? How dare you talk to me like that!'

Konig shrugged. 'I'm just being honest. You may be popular and have everything handed to you, but that doesn't make you a better person. In fact, it just makes you shallow and materialistic.' 'You know what? Fuck you' she groaned, and he smirked.

'I'm counting on it'

He loved the way her brows would furrow and her face would turn red with anger. It was like a challenge to him, and he loved every moment of it.

But deep down, he knew that (Y/N) wasn't just a spoiled brat. She had a fire in her that he couldn't help but admire. And he also knew that her attitude needed a lesson to learn. He couldn't stand how she looked down on others, especially those who didn't have the same privileges as her.

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

'What you doing, big guy?'

Simon was in the locker room, changing his vests before going for a shower. And there she was, standing in her cheerleader outfit in the boys' locker room.

'What are you doing here?'

'I heard you hit a guy pretty hard back there'

He exhaled, his face full of anger and frustration. It was an accident, and he was already facing the consequences.

'I heard you got a C on your last math test,' he called out, smirking as he watched her face shift, the smugness washing off.

Y/N's eyes narrowed, 'And I heard you got suspended for hitting that boy. What's your point, Konig?'

Simon's smile faltered, but he quickly recovered. 'My point is, maybe you should focus less on being popular and more on your studies. You don't want to end up working at McDonald's for the rest of your life, do you?'

Y/N's jaw clenched as she fought to keep her composure. 'I'll have you know, I'm perfectly capable of juggling my social life and my academics. Unlike you, I actually have a future that doesn't involve being a washed-up high school football star. A stupid footballer who doesn't even know how to use his hands'

Simon's eyes narrowed as his fists clenched at his sides. 'You know nothing about me, Y/N. And don't act like you're so perfect, with your designer clothes and expensive car. That just shows how shallow and materialistic you really are.'

Y/N's eyes flashed with anger as she stepped closer to him. 'At least I have something to show for myself. What have you accomplished besides being a delinquent?'

With that, something snapped in him. Before she could process it, he was striding towards her. He grabbed (Y/N)'s wrists and pinned her against one of the benches, his face inches from hers.

'I've had enough of your teasing and your bratty behavior,' he growled, his breath hot against her skin. 'I think it's time I taught you a lesson.'

She was taken aback by his sudden aggression, but a thrill ran through her body. She couldn't help but feel aroused by his demeanor.

Before she could even respond, Konig had already pulled down her skirt and panties, revealing her wet and ready core. He wasted no time, thrusting his huge cock into her with a force that made her gasp.

She moaned loudly, her hands gripping the bench as Konig began to pound into her. She was continuously creaming all over him, her arousal dripping down his pubes and cock. A ring of cream had formed on the base of his cock, and the sight of his cock getting wetter and wetter with each thrust into her needy cunt made him groan.

He couldn't resist the sight of her, her body writhing under his touch. He reached around and covered her mouth with his hand, his fingers slipping into her mouth to silence her moans.

But every time she muffled a moan, Konig could feel his cock twitch with pleasure. He couldn't help but let out a low groan, the sensation of her tight walls gripping him driving him wild. Her warm cunt was taking his cock so well, her walls clamping down on him with each thrust.

(Y/N) was in a state of pure ecstasy, her body quivering with pleasure as Konig brought her closer and closer to the edge. She was putty in his hands, completely at his mercy. Her legs gave out completely beneath her, his strong thighs keeping her up. She knew he was holding back too, because judging by his size, he could have easily broken the bench in a few thrusts.

Loud sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the locker, and he was thankful that the match was ongoing, otherwise the boys would've barged in. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, his cock pushing itself all the way into her pussy. His balls smacked against her ass repeatedly, and she knew her thighs would be bruised tomorrow.

'Fuck, I'm-I'm close' she whimpered, and he slowed down his thrusts. He pushed his cock all the way in, holding it in there for a few moments before pulling back. He was the biggest she had ever had, and it was making her go feral.

He resumed his pace again, her toes curling in her shoes as she bit on his fingers. He grabbed her ass cheeks, spreading them apart as he watched himself disappear inside her.

'Come, then. Come around my cock. Show me you're a good girl'

As she reached their climax, Konig couldn't hold back any longer. He let out a loud groan as he emptied himself inside of her, his body shaking with pleasure.

They both collapsed onto the bench, panting and trying to catch their breath. (Y/N) couldn't believe what had just happened, but she couldn't deny the toe-curling pleasure she had experienced.

Konig smirked and leaned in close to her ear. 'You're lucky I have a thing for brats,' he whispered before planting a kiss on her lips.

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

[miscling]

about this miscellaneous changeling (v4)

This is a horny blog for horny blog things. Please don't interact if you're a minor/under 18, go away, shoo! if you follow, make sure to have some indication of your age in your bio or pinned (it doesn't need to be exact, just something to make it clear). you will be blocked if you don't and you'll miss out on *gestures at itself* all this.

this thing is a miscling, a miscellaneous changeling. it is a fae creature that is a doll, drone, kitty, mama (mommyposting is @mommy-misc), little (little posts are @littlefaefae), and toy. it is a plaything first and foremost, and a filthy kinky subby thing that is a really really really fun to play with. it is super positive about kink. it loves to play, have adventures, and meet others. it is an excellent plaything, subject, submissive, and pet. this thing is a good girl who loves being played with, loves being obedient, loves being controlled, and loves showing off its body.

it enjoys getting to know others. it enjoys playing with others. it enjoys belonging to others. it enjoys a lot of different kinks with a lot of different dynamics. it enjoys a lot of hypnokink, a lot of bondage, a lot of masochism, a lot of petplay, a lot of degredation, a lot of praise, a lot of caregiving, and a lot of orgasm control. if it involves sensory play, deep subspaces, and submission, then this thing likely loves it. you can always ask about specific kinks!

this blog is all about kink. this thing loves kink. it talks about kink, it writes about kink, it does kink, and it has so many kinks. you'll find posts about kink here: theory, fantasies, practice, and community. it posts about its own playtimes, loves to show off with selfies, answers asks, and reblogs posts it finds hot. it loves getting and answering asks, so don't be afraid to send it some! send it questions, fantasies, secrets, lies, teasing, and a little flirting.

this thing is also trans, queer, autistic, ADHD, poly, and non-human. it is a trans woman, it has a neo-cunt. it wants to get to know others who are like it, especially if you are in the UK like this thing - it really enjoys meeting its mutuals in real life!

it loves this blog so much, and it hopes you will love it too!

below the cut: tags for finding stuff and its limits! (updated for v4!)

Limits and boundaries:

this thing is poly, it has a nest partner, it has multiple play partners, it is not looking for anything monogamous or exclusive.

it does not like misogyny, transphobia, racism, nationalism, or bigotry. this applies to kink as well. before any negotiated dynamic, we are equal.

this thing wants to be owned and wants to belong to others, it is submissive by default, but it is not yours until it gives itself to you.

it enjoys hard kinks, but this toy must be treated with care and respect. if you can't look after this toy, you can't play with it.

it holds consent as the baseline for any engagement of kink and must be respected. consent can be revoked at any time for any reason, by anyone involved.

Tags it uses:

posts about this thing: About Miscling

Pics of this thing: Miscling Appears. (go on a reblog and liking spree!)

original posts: Miscling Rambles

posts about lactation: Miscling Lactates

this thing's polls: Miscling Polls

hear its voice: Miscling Speaks and its soundgasm page!

see tasks it has done: miscling tasks! If you like or follow its blog, think about sending it a task as a little gift!

read about its play: Miscling Plays

read stories it wrote: Miscling Writes.

Use its ask box: ask meme and miscling answers (scroll the ask meme tag and use any meme you like, but copy in the questions or link the meme!)

throne wishlist!

ko-fi link! (please don't reference anything nsfw on kofi if you use this)

its kink tags: mommysub for posts about being a mommysub, goddess thoughts for religionplay where i'm a subby goddess, Bind Miscling for bondage, hit me for masochism, moo for hucow things, lee mood for tickling, oh my circuits for robot/drone things, maid day for maids, tidy up tuesday for my maid day, monsterling for monsterfucking posts, hypno gif, spiral, hypno txt, and hypnaudio, for hypno play, and hypnoslut for general hypno posts, preyling for primal play, latexcellent for rubberwear. same tbh, !, and ^^ will tell you a lot about the things it likes too.

this thing is a toy for others to enjoy!

(Most tasks recieved and completed in one day: 18) (Most tasks recieved on a special occasion: 48)

ASK TASKS: OPEN

use this thing's ask box to send it tasks to do! everyday tasks give it things to do that are simple and easy: if you want to torment this thing, here are the tasks for that!

choose one or more task emoji, but keep tasks short please!

tasks can come from anyone, even anons!

it will do tasks as soon as it can!

Mutuals can DM, and if it is available we can play!

Suggest something if you'd like!

EVERYDAY TASK LIST!

✏️ give it something to write and tell it where to write it on its body! 💖 make it draw a little heart on itself where you tell it! 🌻 make it write a post about anything that's on its mind at the moment! 🗣️ ask it anything, name a kink or give it a topic to write about (kinky or otherwise) and it'll write a post about it. 🔊 send it a post or write something for it to record saying, and it'll post the recording. 💧 make it drink 100ml (about 3oz of fluids) ❌ make it go take a break outside for 5 mins!

TORMENT THIS THING!

🗜️ make it wear nipple clamps for 10 minutes! ⚡ choose a part of it and make it use its TENS unit there for 10 mins. 🤐 choose a gag and make it gag itself for half an hour! 👗 make it get undressed and be naked for the next 30 mins! 👣 have elastic bands snapped on its feet 10 times! 🖐️ get hit 10 times with an implement of your choice! 🪢 tell it to go play with its rope and post some pics! 😵‍💫 make it repeat a mantra while staring at a spiral (you can use its mantra tag for ideas and spiral tag for ideas.)

[spidybaby]

New streets

Summary: Trying to find your way into the streets of Barcelona by yourself for the first time is harder than you expected.

Warnings: none ❤️

Being new to the city was complicated. You moved from Tenerife to go to college in Barcelona, accepting Pedro's offer to move with him until you find your own place to stay.

You can't deny Barcelona was extraordinary, a city that has a lot of history, it's magical.

The problem is that you convinced yourself that you can start going out on your own without instructions.

When Pedro asked you to wait for him to arrive home so you could go to the market, you say no.

You already felt like a burden, having him drive you everywhere and not being able to do the same for him.

Fer even offer to take you and show you the streets, in any other occasion you'll say yes, but today you feel smart enough to do it alone.

"Estas segura?" (Are you sure?) Fer asked a little worried about you. "Si me dejas terminar con esto, te acompaño" (if you let me finish this, I'll go with you)

"Tranquilo Fer, voy rápido" (relax Fer, I'll be quick), you say, grabbing your things, ready to go. "Quieres que te traiga una Dr. Pepper?" (Want me to bring you a Dr. Pepper?")

"Por favor," he says, smiling. "Ten cuidado, cualquier cosa me llamas niña." (Be careful, call me if anything happens, kiddo.)

Once you're out of the house, you search on Google maps the closest market.

As you make your way down the street, you enjoy the views. Barcelona is breathtaking.

You were happy with how quickly you made it to the market.

Taking your phone to message Pedro, wanting to share your excitement with him.

(I know you're training and you'll see this later, but I have to tell you something 😋

I'm at the market, I got here alone and didn't get lost)

You block your phone and continue with your shopping spree, looking for the soda you said you were buying for Fer.

Your phone takes you out of your concentration when you are reading the back of a soda can.

("Hi baby ❤️ Actually I'm done with training.

😂😂😂😂 I'm happy for you"

"Do you want me to buy something for you?"

"No baby, I'm fine.

I'm noticing you're very close to the training camp. Do you want to come over here and then we go home?")

Not completely sure about it you Google the directions to get to where he was.

The trip to the market was easy due to it being an almost straight walk. The training camp was a more complicated way.

After a few minutes looking at the online map, you decide it was not that difficult, and you could do it.

("See you in a bit, I just have to pay, and I'm on my way. "

"I'll wait for you, please be careful")

You hurried with the last items and paid on a self checkout to be quick.

You followed the instructions as the map says, but you also decide to trust a little more than you should and text your friend.

After a few minutes, you noticed you were, in fact, not where you should be. You frown as the map says it's the right way, seconds mistake trusting that. You kept walking and texting, only losing the way more than before.

Ten minutes later and a different name on the streets as the gps says you begin to worry.

Not wanting to worry your boyfriend, you text Fernando.

("Remember I told you I was not going to get lost? ... Help")

You kept walking, trying to fix your mistake, little did you know you were making it worse.

("But 🤣🤣🤣🤣 you were getting five things at the supermarket, how did you end up lost?"

"Don't laugh at me, Fernando. I wanted to get over where your brother is, and I ended up lost"

"I can't help but laugh. Where are you right now?

"I don't know")

You tried to identify the streets to be able to tell where you were, no success.

The stress was getting over you, feeling dumb.

("Calm down, what stores are near you?"

"The Mercè library"

"You're on the other side of the camp, y/n")

The frustration was getting the best of you. Texting and walking on a road you didn't know was a bad choice.

The internal debate your mind was creating over two options, one, Fernando can give you instructions on how to take a bus or something, two, ask him what to do from now on.

Choosing the second option, you kept texting him.

("Any recommendations?"

"Yes, stay there and call Pedro, ask him to pick you up, please don't get lost.")

Sitting on a bench outside the library, you call your boyfriend.

"Preciosa, ya estas afuera?" (Baby, are you outside?)

"No, amor. Estoy por la biblioteca, del otro lado de donde estas." (No, love. I'm by the library on the other side of the city.)

"Qué pasó? Estas bien?" (What happened? Are you okay?)

"Si, estoy bien. Es que." (Yes, I'm fine. Is just.)

You doubt telling him the truth.

You know you don't have to be nervous over him knowing you're lost. Pedro would never judge you or make fun of you.

"Me perdí" (I got lost)

"Ay, mi amor. Esta bien, ahora voy por ti, quédate quieta que ya llego por ti." (Oh love, it's okay, I'm coming to get you, stay where you're I'm coming.)

You hang up after a small "Thank you."

Picking a candy from your grocery bag while waiting for him.

Your phone started ringing, it was Fer.

"Hola"

"Hola, llamaste a Pedro?" (Did you call Pedro?)

"Si, ya viene por mi, gracias." (Yes, he's coming to get me, thank you.)

Fernando senses the disappointment in your voice. As much as he wants to joke about it, he knows you wanted to do things on your own, not wanting to bother him or his brother.

"Ey no te pongas triste, es normal que esto pase, eres nueva en la ciudad y para ser tu primera vez sola no fue nada mal. Llegaste a la tienda por ti sola." (Hey, don't be sad. This is normal. You're new here, and for being your first time going alone, you did it great. You got to the market all by yourself.)

That makes you feel a little better.

"Gracias, te veo en un rato cuando Pedro y yo lleguemos." (Thank you, see you in a bit when Pedro and I get there.)

"Vale, los espero" (okay, I'll wait for you)

While you waited for your boyfriend to arrive, you saw the cars passing and finished your candy.

After a good ten minutes, you saw the black Maserati parking in front of you. Pedro pulled the window down smiling.

"Uber para la señorita más hermosa de España" (uber for the most beautiful lady in Spain)

You can't help the smile. He knows how to light up your mood.

"Gracias, pero no pedí un uber, de hecho estoy esperando a mi novio" (thank you, but I actually didn't order an Uber. I'm waiting for my boyfriend.)

"Bueno pero igual te puedo llevar, descuidado te deja esperando, te podrían robar" (well, I can still take you, careless dude, leaves you waiting someone could stole you)

You laugh and open the car door.

As you got in, he took the grocery bag and placed it onto the back seat.

"Hola preciosa," he says before kissing you.

The kiss was getting a little more heated than you expected, but the sound of a car horn made you separate but not before giving him a small kiss.

"Gracias por venir por mi" (thanks for coming for me)

You took his hand in yours and kissed the back of his hand.

"No agradezcas, mejor dime como acabaste hasta acá" (don't thank me, tell me how did you end over here?)

You tell him with details how you got lost. He laughed but did the same thing Fernando did, reassured you it was okay.

Once you arrived at his house he helped you with the grocery bag.

Fernando was waiting for the two of you with some dinner ready.

"La pequeña Dora la exploradora regreso de su aventura" (little Dora the explorer came back from adventure.) He says as he hugs you.

"No la molestes" (don't make fun of her)

Pedro tried not to laugh at the jokes his brother was saying, but even you were laughing.

"Sigue así y tomaras agua del bater, capullo" (keep up, and you'll drink toilet water, idiot). You laugh as you organize the groceries.

After helping with setting the table, the three of you ate and laughed at jokes Fernando was telling.

You offered to wash the dishes as Pedro took a shower and Fernando organize something in his room.

You were concentrated in the song that was playing in the background, but a pair of hands on your waist take you back to reality.

"Me alegro que estés bien y que lograras llegar a la tienda y ahora sabes también llegar a la biblioteca" (I'm happy you're okay and that you got to get to the market, now you know how to get to the library too) Pedro joke kissing your shoulder.

"Eres un pesado, amor" (you're an asshole, love), you laugh. "Tal vez para el partido llegue al camp nou por mi cuenta" (maybe for the match I'll get to Camp Nou by myself).

"Por ahora tratemos de quedarnos cerca, no quiero tener que parar el partido para ir por ti." (Let's get close for now, I don't want to have to stop the match to come get you) he jokes.

"Acepto" (deal), you say, tuning around to kiss him.

Just like the kiss in the car, this one was getting a little more heated than necessary, but you weren't complaining.

"Consigan un cuarto o pierdanse." (Get a room or get lost) Fernando joked.

You two laugh, hugging.

Even though your first experience by yourself was not the best, it was not bad at all. You had two boys who will do everything to protect you and you were thankful for both.

[tyuntopia]

★ txt as popular tropes

pairing : ot5 x fem! reader

genre : fluff, kissing, a bit suggestive but not really??

a/n : this was my first time writing so i hope u guys like it!! i kinda went overboard with tyuns oops but please leave asks so i can continue with things u guys like <3

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

yeonjun friends to lovers

you guys would probably know each other through modeling agencies or some type of work, talking basically every day, going to coffee runs together, shopping sprees, calling on facetime

you didn't really see him in a romantic light until your best friend mentioned it and from then on you couldn't get the idea of you two as a couple out of your head

he noticed a slight change in your behavior - the fast pull of your hand from a skim of his finger, the twitch in your spine as he put his hand on your lower back, the inability for you to hold eye contact longer than a few seconds

so he started to get a bit suspicious and of course, as the tease he is, he pulls you in for a hug and begins leaning in, and once you close your eyes and start leaning in to he knows hes cracked the case

he just stands there with a smug smile as you wait there for a kiss until you open your eyes with a pout and give a light slap to his chest

he shakes his head and laughs until he pulls you in for the second time to share a kiss

soobin strangers to lovers

my guess is that you met at a grocery store

you dropped your card at the register and he was behind you so he went ahead and picked it up for you

as you made eye contact your world stopped because of how cute he was (don't get me started on his bread cheeks >.<)

but little did you know that he thought the exact same thing of you

as he passed you your card, you felt a spark run through your body but you ignored it opting for a simple and quiet 'thank you' and a bow which was returned with a wave of his hands and a 'of course, no problem' paired with a light dust of pink of his cheeks

on your way home you couldn't stop thinking about him and you wanted to see him again so you planned to go to the same grocery store at the same time and day next week -- little did you know he was planning the same thing

you began seeing each other every week until finally as you were grabbing mangosteen he came up next to you telling you that this was his favorite fruit

you exchanged names and walked around while talking about random little things until you both realized the time and walked to the register

he walked you to your car and left you with a simple 'see you next week'

the next time you saw each other he finally asked you for your number to pick you up for your date at the bakery cafe ^^

beomgyu enemies to lovers

he would be the one class clown who would always pester and make fun of YOU and not your other classmates

secretly though he just wants your attention bc he's scared to outwardly show his feelings -- especially now that you probably hate him

but then one day you two end up getting paired for an assignment that requires you guys to work together in and outside of school

at first, he continues his antics but as time passes you begin to see a softer yet still playful side of him

there's lingering touches between you two, late night walks, quick ice cream runs, arcade "breaks"

until finally you guys share your last block of work time before the project is due and as you leave the library he gives you a rushed confession afraid that things will go back to how they were *which you obviously return*

after a messy kiss with his hands on your waist and yours on his hair, you officially start dating <3

and he continues to be a menace ofc

taehyun brothers best friend

tyun and your brother have been best friends since middle school

as the youngest member of his family, he's always held great pride in being someone other than your brother whom you look up to

he's always felt an obligation to protect you whether it be from a weird guy on the street to the actual street when you scraped your knee on it in elementary school

but lately, his feelings towards you have been changing as you enter the dating world

your brother won't shut up about how you're boy crazy now and that you need to focus on your studies and you don't know why he's making it such a big deal when you just went out with one guy who you didn't even like ???

truth be told, you've liked tyun since you first laid your eyes on him, and going on this date was supposed to be a distraction from him but it obviously wasn't working as you felt your heart flutter every time he brought food he ordered for him and his brother up to your room to eat, not forgetting to take a few minutes to ask how your doing personally and in school

though now you realized his lingering stare and elongated hug paired with a gentle 'im proud of you' followed by head pats

you've never blushed this hard in your life but thank god he didn't tease you about it and just smiled

the months passed like that and you realized that he began spending more time with you, leaving your brother to play video games and study on his own as tyun was in your room helping you with homework

Over time, your crush on him grew as did his crush on you

you guys would mess around instead of studying

he would initiate pillow fights where he would pin you down followed by heavy eye contact and arm wrestles where he would flaunt his strength, not that you minded

it wasn't until one day while studying that you couldn't focus while he was talking to you because his lips just looked so soft that day that once he realized you were staring at them he pulled your chair in closer, gently held your chin, and gave you the softest kiss you've ever had

after parting he gave you the happiest smile in the world asking you to be his girl not realizing that your brother was standing at the door dumbfounded but not surprised as his best friend would always bring you up in every conversation

huening kai roommates

you guys have been roommates for about two years now and not only did that consist of shared sweets, movie nights, and plushie fights, but also a huge crush that he's been harboring

he's scared that you'll move out soon and with the encouragement of the boys he starts to make bolder moves

which in his book is letting you borrow some of his plushies and letting you pick the movie

despite his newfound extended generosity, you don't pick up on it until you're having a game night with the boys, and yeonjun privately slips that kai has a massive crush on you

your cheeks immediately heat up and you're flustered for the rest of the night

once the boys are gone and it's just you two, you ask him to have a dance party and purposefully put a slow dance on queue

he gets shy at first but finally calms down and then finally the world makes sense to him

as you rest your head on his chest and he holds your waist he quietly tells you that he loves you and you say it back

you lift your head and after a couple seconds of silence but heavy air you share a soft kiss followed by a sweet 'are you my girlfriend now? please say yes'

© tyuntopia | please do not copy or translate without my permission

[cannibalslvt]

"ERM!! You cannot go on blocking sprees in the pro para and radqueer tags because what about their feelings? You're anti disorder if you don't accept them in your space 🥺."

I do not care, I'm blocking everyone that pisses me off and makes me feel unsafe.

[deramin2]

Absolutely love that Marisha was probably going to make a tamer choice, but Matt saw the perfect opportunity to push her as a Delilah, and really feed Laudna's paranoia. I think that really pushed her over the edge and Marisha fully ran with it.

And Liam really thought through what he knew (this was Laudna and she's being manipulated by Delilah but not intentionally hurting Orym), vs. what Orym knew (something he couldn't see attacked him in his sleep and he needs to defend himself from it because he had no idea what it's intentions were and has every reason to assume it's trying to kill all of them). Honestly Orym remained pretty defensive overall. Love that they both learned into how much both of them felt totally justified and like they were defending the party from harmful corrupting influence.

———

I'm someone with mental health problems that cause intrusive thoughts that can make me feel so absolutely certain that I'm justified in viewing other people as being intentionally harmful and lash out at them. In the moment it feels completely justified and righteous and a truth other people need to hear even though they'll resist it. I try really, really hard to resist expressing those thoughts. I try to remind myself I will end up regretting it and pushing people away permanently who (justifiably) won't put up with that treatment.

But sometimes it's so strong or I'm so triggered by the awfulness around me and despair that it escapes me. It feels like everyone else is lying to justify evil and I'm sick of it. Consequences be damned. It feels protective of other vulnerable people. And then I lash out and say things I regret and get yelled and blocked or dropped or otherwise lose people in my life and get more and more isolated. And feel like they're totally justified because really it's me who's the evil monster and need to be isolated for other prep people's protection because I can't be trusted and can't be better. I don't even want anyone too comfort me or love me because they don't deserve to be hurt by me eventually. (I'm not saying that's actually true, but that's how I feel and it feels very real to me while it's happening.)

———

Marisha absolutely nailed that depiction. In an ongoing way but particularly in CR C3 E95. And I love that it came right off the joyous mania of the shopping spree for and crafting season where they were all bonding and making plans for the future and letting off steam. But then she was triggered and all of that didn't matter. Off anything the strength of those emotions was a pendulum whose momentum helped her distress swing harder in the other direction.

She was triggered, and Delilah was a second layer of intrusive thoughts that made her feel so sure of her feelings and actions. 100% justified as Marisha said. And she would have been totally justified in just waking Orym up and having a conversation about the sword and at least putting it in the Bag of Holding overnight until they could make a long term decision. I think that's what Marisha was planning to do until Delilah showed up. She wasn't justified in hurting Orym in a unilateral decision that she should feed the sword to Delilah. Her thoughts were very real to get but not based on facts. Whatever her intentions she hurt Orym and avoided apologizing.

And I loved how Imogen pushed back this time. So often she's enabled Laudna because she loves her wants to comfort her. But this time I think she saw that's not what Laudna needs. She needs someone to check her and keep her from escalating. She's feeling complicated feelings right now because she loves Laudna, but she hates Delilah and what Delilah is getting Laudna to do. Like the partner of an addict who loves them, but hates what the substance is doing to them and how they're acting to feed that addiction. I can't wait to see how that plays out in the future.

The whole thing was incredibly real representation to me. This is an incredibly triggering situation that they're all in and they're all crumbling in the face of it. Chetney and Orym both made deals with Nana Mori. Chetney for fame, Orym for power. Ashton secretly took the fire primordial shard and nearly killed themselves in front of Fearne and then the other others. Imogen tried to flip her mom on the cult that's indoctrinated her for decades. FCG did blow himself up. Fearne was lured away by her shitbag sperm donor in the night so he could try to kill her and have a copy take her place. Dorian watched Lolth's crown take over Opal, his brother die, and his friends scattered. Laudna is feeding Delilah's power. None of them are okay and they're all being totally reckless. They're both bonding over their recklessness and being pushed apart by it. Can't wait to see what happens next.

[sammygender]

cycle of joining supernatural fandom

stage #1: see some funny posts abt it. reblog saying 'lol i dont go here but this is so funny'.

stage #2: start watching. have a hesitant favourite but really u like everyone :)

stage #3: follow some fandom blogs. usually the mainstream ones/the big ones, often who made the funny posts before.

stage #4: notice the fandom blogs have similar opinions which are kind of strange to you? you don't really understand how they could think this? but whatever, you've only just started the show. youre sure itll make sense later on.

stage #5: watch more. follow more blogs. read some fanfic. immerse yourself in the fandom.

stage #6: see a post from one of the original fandom blogs you followed. wow, now that youre actually IN this fandom, that take seems kind of weird. have a little unfollow spree.

stage #7: is it just me or is everyone in this fandom fucking stupid?

stage #8: delete all your reblogs from before you watched the show. post an angry vague about how stupid fans are and how they make so many false jokes that impact characterisation.

stage #9: gain followers from your post about how much you hate the mainstream fandom. yay. now you have mutuals who kind of agree with you.

stage #10: have 90% of the fandom blocked. start threatening to kill yourself if anyone in real life even mentions the show to you no matter what they say about it. write 10 feverish fanfictions in a row. none of them are good.

stage #11: you're not even that sure if you like this show anymore but you are never ever ever getting out of here alive.

[connor6sex]

EPHEMERAL SMP (My writeup)

Hi, my IGN is Lunethh. I joined the server 20 minutes late, and wandered around until i found someone (Lulu175) who said there was a trial chamber near spawn. I decided to accompany them to the trial. On the way we ran into a Catbboymmilo, who had iron and gave us shields. Catboy also gave me a bone, and with it i was able to tame a single nearby Wolf. This wolf was to be named Archduke Franz Ferdinand. And if anything bad happened to him, i swore i would find a way to start a world war.

Before our journey to the trial chamber commenced, Lulu declared we must get a bed, because she would surely die and wanted to set her spawn. This was an excellent call from Lulu, who got the most deaths on the server with 42.

We wandered into a forest where we met DarubyPrincxx, who had gone mining and had iron for shears. They lent us shears so we could make a bed and head off to the Chamber.

And to the Trial Chamber we went. There was a little trouble getting to it due to the immense lag we had mining straight down. It took ten minutes to mine maybe 30 blocks down. But eventually we were in the Trial Chamber, with stone tools and no food.

And none of us were really experienced Trialers, I'd not actually played the latest version of the game at all, and Lulu only ever poked around Trial chambers in creative, but we managed. Managed to get the most deaths on the server.

Eventually we ran into someone else in the trials. Mothyboyo i think. And they had cleared a room and gotten a omen potion. (Or milo found the first omen bottle, not entirely clear, but regardless) The trials got harder. With the omen, but we did, eventually. With a lot of deaths, manage to get some ominous keys and start opening a vault. And on our second ominous vault, Milo dropped a heavy core.

This was the first of many maces we would acquire.

We all got to kill each other with the mace right away, getting the achievements in chat and we declared ourselves Mace Trio. I wanted to leave the trials right away to go start killing people at spawn with the mace, but Lulu and Milo insisted we get more maces. I said that us getting more maces was statistically unlikely.

However Milo said "LETS GO GAMBLING" and that's hard to argue with. So we cleared the next rooms, and eventually got another Mace. At that point i said, we should really go back to spawn now, but the response once more was LETS GO GAMBLING. And that's really hard to argue with.

We ended up leaving the trail chamber with not two, not three, but FIVE maces.

At one point i nearly had a diplomatic incident in chat, when i asked very politely, if i could abolish the monarchy that had been growing in strength while Mace Trio and I were below the ground.

The leader of the Monarchy, the Monarch themself, RGBmothman, promptly declared war on me Specifically. However, when i pointed out that i merely asked to abolish the monarchy, and didn't threaten it at all beyond asking. A ceasefire was declared, and i asked if we were about to kiss. They did not Reply to me about if we were in fact about to kiss. But I digress.

Eventually we did surface, maces in hand and ready to kill. But before i went on a killing spree, we gathered candles in the Trial Chamber that we wanted to bring to the Vigil. It wasn't enough candles to offset the combined deaths we all had in the trials. But it seemed like a nice thing to do.

We spent some time at spawn, and noticed The Emerald Throne, which had been there since i logged on. The throne was made of dirt. Not emerald, so with Trial Chamber loot, Lulu fixed this.

On the way to the Vigil, we witnessed a wafflehouse massacre, and I ended up getting murdered on the steps of the Wafflehouse. I believe it was either Engibot or Kafrisuru, who killed a lot of people. The only thing i recovered from my death was my Mace. Thankfully. I really don't know how that worked out, it had fallen into the river, and i guess they didn't spend too long looting my corpse. But i did have good stuff on me. like 1/2 diamond and 2 god apples.

Anyhow. With one more death, we made our way to the vigil to give them some candles. On our way there, we were stopped by the Monarchy's soldiers. They were looking for someone who stole something or something. idk, i was a little wary of them because they had previously declared war on me.

We didn't end up having any trouble with them, but that would not be our last encounter with the Monarchy (i don't like monarchs out of principle)

Heading back to spawn, we searched for the rumoured Sex House. When i had asked Willow what it was, i was told that it was a house at spawn with all the player beds. And someone just put a sign there. And i wanted to see it for myself.

With a bed of my own, and a hefty shaft in my hand, i found nothing at spawn. But i did see the monarch nearish. I figured a ruler would know of the comings and goings of the world, and asked if they knew of the Sex House.

They did not know where it was, but as we fell into discussion, i said "its not about finding a sex house, but building a sex home" and the monarch and I discovered the true meaning of Sexmas. As well as found out that we were in fact, about to kiss.

But we had to split ways with our insight shared, I had to start construction of a new Sex House. A house for all of us, a house for Sex.

Just off the coast of spawn, right where the stone beach turns to grass sat a small roof held up by fenceposts with a single wall. It wasn't much, but it was the start of the SexHouse that i know and (made) love.

Now that i had two of my primal needs satisfied, (Shelter & Companionship), i needed to sate my thirst for blood. I had a mace, and i had windcharges, i wanted murder almost as much as i wanted sexhouse.

Most of my time left on the server was spent trying to kill people. I think i killed a lot of people. I killed God even. I asked them if they wanted to be killed by my Mace. And they said yes, and switched to survival.

The rest of the time went peacefully and bloodily, at one point there was a dirt mansion massacre, where the dirt baron brought me and lulu to the highest point of the manor, and stood directly below it, with a small crowd of other people who wanted to be killed by the mace. It was a smashing time.

And best of all, nothing bad ever happened to my dog. Nothing bad has ever, or will ever happen to my dog.

[krisstheidiot]

× Midnight Brownies ×

Valentine's Day Special

Summary: Felix and you meet again years after highschool in a cafe on Valentine's day. When you two decide to go on a spontaneous multiple valentine's day activities spree, will past feelings sprout again?, will Felix finally answer your highschool self's confession?

Genre: fluff, highschool friends reunited(crushes)

Warnings: Mentions of Sex, Fireworks

Your sister had kept you awake all night until 3 to help her decide what outfit she was to wear for her date with her boyfriend. Sleep was completely lost so you had decided to go on a long jog at 6 am and then got ready to hang out at a cozy cafe a few blocks down.

Ordering your usual latte with a slice of apple pie as you sit down at a table near the flower display outside, reading a book on your kindle enjoying the quiet despite the lack of sleep.

A deep voice speaks out of no where breaking your concentration as you look up in shock, finding a familiar face in front you...

"Hey miss is this seat free...?"

Those honey brown orbs, the galaxy like freckles spread on those plush fair cheeks and that cute heart like smile, The face not matching the voice at all as you come to realize who you were face to face with.

"...Felix?"

Tilting your head as you gasp softly and stand up with a bright smile, happy you encountered an old friend, said man looked down at your face in shock as he took in all your features. It was no doubt you were pretty but you looked so beautiful as the morning sun gave you your golden hour, eyes twinkling with golden orbs.

"Y/n..? Omg it's really you...!"

Felix smiled brightly as he suddenly pulled you in for a warm hug, which you happily reciprocated.

"I wasn't expecting to meet you here!"

Felix exclaimed happily as he pulled away and you both sat at your table to catch up on what's been going with your lives. A while later you got curious about why he was here all alone, fiddling with your fork and apple pie crumbs you finally decide to ask.

"Felix i was wondering why you are here all alone? That too so early in the morning?"

Felix chuckles as he sips on his drink while thinking of a way to word his reason without it being awkward

"Well its valentine's day and I am single but all my other friends are dating I woke up to one of them having morning sex so yeah I had to make my escape so i came here..."

"Oh..."

Felix laughs at the face you make as you nod sheepishly imagining how awkward the situation would have been.

"Either ways they probably would have teased me if I had stayed also I am avoiding social media so I don't get coerced into doing a stream because I am sure even my fans would tease me about being so lonely that I stream even on valentine's day"

You giggle as you imagine all the 8 year olds bullying an adult just because he doesn't have a partner. Suddenly a spontaneous idea comes up in your head as you quickly take Felix' hand and get up grabbing your stuff.

"You know what Felix let's go on a date right now! The one we were supposed to go to in highschool but never could because I moved away. I mean if that's okay with you...?"

Felix grinned as he nodded eagerly making all the uncertainty in your head disappear. You smiled as you took his hand in yours and left the cafe after paying.

Finding yourself at a retro arcade that was empty as you and Felix buy a shit ton of coins for all the games. Trying out every single one from bunch of scammy claw machines to every car racing game.

Any game you found fun you would do. Tetris. You name it you played it. With the last coins you decided to play a boxy zombie game that looked like a stupid rip off minecraft as you tried to distract each other hoping the other would fall into the pit of zombie while trying to bridge with the jammed buttons of the machine. Finally you managed to bag the win for who bridged the farthest by kissing Felix's cheek to distract him.

Smiling as both you and Felix's hands are full holding bags full of the tacky toys and gifts he won for you from the claw machines and all the old timey snacks and games you had won from winning the competitive games as you walk next door deciding to play laser tag since you had won two tickets to it.

Coming out of the place as you whine childishly complaining that Felix was just too fast and he didn't win fairly since he literally picked you up and shot your tag with his laser. Felix in tow teasing you that you were just too slow and small to be able to win and his win was completely fair.

"Let's get lunch yeah?"

Felix asks as he smiles down at you as he takes your hand in his and leads you to the nearby beach that was 10 minute walk away. You guys come to a stop in front of a shack restaurant on the beach itself.

sitting on a table facing the sea as you guys order what you guys are gonna eat while talking about anything that came to mind like you were back in Highschool.

Finishing up lunch as the both of you decide to visit the shops at the beach before leaving, as you browsed shop after shop as you go into a very neon coloured shop looking around at all the vintage and retro stuff as you pick up some old pokemon cards blind packs and buy it while Felix is wandering around buying something of his own.

Now, walking to an old cinema as you chat about what anime movie you should watcha at the cinema. Both deciding 'My Neighbor Totoro' would be best as you go inside the cinema taking some artificially buttered popcorn as you sit down in the empty cinema giggling like middle schoolers.

"Hey Felix earlier I bought these old packs of pokemon cards wanna open them with me like when in highschool?"

You suggested, glad that it was dark in the theatre so that he wouldn't know you were blushing as you saw Felix chuckle as he pulled out what he had bought earlier. It was a bunch of old candy with no nutritional value just sugar. Pure sugar. You grinned remembering how you both used skip classes to watch anime at the library while opening pokemon cards and munching on candies just like this.

"Honestly Y/n I missed this. I missed us."

Felis whispered to you while sipping on his now watered down coke since the ice had melted, you looked at him, eyes full of emotion as you smiled softly.

"I missed us too alot, I wished that i had never moved away then maybe we would be spending this valentine's day as a couple not as just friends..."

Whispering sadly as you look back at the screen hoping you don't start crying.

You feel him take your hand in his as he squeezes it slightly.

"Who says we can't spend it as a couple?"

Felix asked straightforward about his intentions behind the question.

You looked up at him slightly in shock trying to gauge out the joke in his question and intent. He nodded to reassure you that he was saying the truth and what he wanted wasn't to joke with you, it was to be with you. A look into his eyes was all you needed to reassure yourself. Just as you opened your mouth to respond he pulled you in and kissed you. It was soft and warm and full of love, his lips soft against your own as he put his hands on your cheek holding you there as you reciprocate the action. Pulling away after a while as he smiles down at you, eyes beating the ones a certain heart eyed emoji has.

"I loved you before. I love you still. And I am sure I will keep on loving you. That's how much I feel about you Y/n, baking isn't any fun without you when i remember how much fun we used to have when we baked together."

You looked at Felix, eyes glossy with tears as you breathe out shakily, overwhelmed by emotions as you hug him close to you and whisper.

"I love you too, I tried so hard to move on convinced that you probably did too, but this its not just a highschool crush it goes beyond that and I don't want to lose the good memories of you. I don't want to lose you anymore not after i waited so many years..."

Felix smiled as he kissed your head and ran his fingers through your hair to comfort you as he spoke. The movie long forgotten.

"You aren't losing me hell even if you wanted to you won't be able to get rid of me now so don't be sad Sweets..."

"Sw-sweets...?"

You looked up at him blushing like crazy as he smiled and patted your head. He looked like a bright ball of sunshine whenever he smiled.

"Well I am assuming that this means we are a couple now so I am just calling my lovely girlfriend a cute nickname!"

"Well if I am sweets then you are Sunshine..."

You whined as took your cup of coke and drank to hide your blush.

"I don't mind darling"

The nickname teasing fest continued as both of you tried making each other blush by calling each other the cheesiest pet names.

It was 8 in the evening as both of you walked hand in hand now as a couple not friends. Smiling as you walked in a nearby diner and sitting down at the table as your eyes adjusted to the the 90s theme the diner was sporting.

Fishing out some spare change as you put it into the jukebox placed near your table as you grinned up at Felix playing the song that you always did in high school. 'Summer love' by One Direction playing as both of you grabbed your spoons pretending they were mics and singing the lyrics and dancing together like idiots in love which you were.

Dinner ended with you two full and satisfied as you walked to Felix's apartment to spend more time together. Both of you ended up playing mario kart as he started vlogging for memories. That's what he said.

Later you decided that both of you needed a sugar high after as if all that candy earlier didn't do a number on your blood sugar levels.

Both of you in his kitchen while trying to bake brownies at 12:50 am. Flour on both of you as you sprinkled choco chips on the brownie batter before putting it in the oven that Felix had pre heated. Closing the oven door as you get up when Felix suddenly wipes your face with a tissue to get rid of all the flour. You look at him, his face now absent of any flour from the playfight you had when he called you small. Leaning slightly to look at the time.

"Wanna do something? we can turn on the oven after we come back from the last adventure of today..."

You said as you take of the apron and take his hand leading him outside as you walk back to the beach.

"So what is this adventure about sweets?"

"You will see Lix..."

Smiling as you reach the beach and tell Felix to go and sit on a bench while you buy a few things. Coming back with two bags of stuff that Felix had no idea to what it would be used for. You looked at the time on your phone as you asked Felix to countdown with you while your eyes are focused at the sky.

Few seconds later bright explosions were visible. Fireworks everywhere. The colourful sparks littered the sky as you looked at Felix. He was absolutely beautiful, his eyes reflecting the colors in the sky as his hair flowed with the wind and his lips parted in amaze as he looked at you.

"My sister wanted to be extra for her date with her boyfriend so she decided on fireworks at the time when she had first met him."

Smiling back at Felix as you turned to look at the sky when suddenly Felix pulled you in to kiss you. Smothering you with kisses all over your face as you giggled under his attack. Few minutes later he stops as you smile and dangle the bag that you brought earlier in front of him.

"I brought sky lanterns and sparklers so we could have our own little light show..."

"I remember when all our friends went to that park at 12 am just to look at the sky lanterns that everyone released"

Felix said in response to your suggestion as you both pulled out the sparklers and played around for awhile, later taking the few sky lanterns and lighting them and releasing them while holding onto each other like the couples that were in the park the night you confessed to Felix while watching the sky lanterns float in the sky.

Watching as the sky lanterns you released float together while you hug each other. This may be a cheesy holiday for some but this was the day you found your love. The one that would stay forever with you. The love where you would go back home at 3 am and eat brownies and then cuddle and fall asleep on the couch.

This is your love and it is yours to keep forever and ever.

Because just like the sky lanterns you lit you burned bright for each other and would find your way to each other no matter how far you could be.

He was your sun, you were his star.

@!directory

A.N: Helloo! I am Kriss I hope you liked the oneshot it was kinda rushed and sorry if it was too cheesy. Anyways Happy Valentines day to everyone, to all the ones who are dating - enjoy your special day, to every single pringle - treat yourself to anything even if it's a small chocolate bar! Have a great day/night. Byeee!

Stay Tuned for more!