#.....she apologized after the session but made it all about herself and how she reacted that way bc she cares so much abt every patient

[neuroprincess]

Criminal Minds Women, and how they act when they’re jealous? Thank you!

Criminal Minds - They're Jealous (Preferences)

Classification: Fluff

Pairing: Alex Blake, Elle Greenaway, Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, Penelope Garcia and Tara Lewis

Warnings: None

Word count: +600

Alex Blake

4/10

- Being a more reserved and quiet person, she may not feel or show jealousy easily. However, when this happens she can react in one of two ways: stop next to you and wait for whoever is trying to gain your attention to realize that you're together, or simply be direct about it, being as calm and rational as possible. Then, in privacy and comfort, Alex will kiss you passionately, hands on waist caressing tenderly and never admitting that this reassures her more than any words could.

Elle Greenaway

7/10

- Let's say she doesn't get jealous often and it's not easy to cause it, that's what the brunette says. Elle isn't so subtle, you know immediately what's going on, because in a millisecond she changes her body expression, also gets serious and keeps silent, giving short answers. If you're at work, she'll stare blatantly, anger showing in every facial muscle. If you're in a bar or other public place, she'll just lean in and kiss you, resting her arm on your shoulder. She's certainly the most probable to pick a fight.

Emily Prentiss

5/10

- This woman would try not to let her jealousy show and would deny it to the death to anyone who asked, but she can't be as discreet as imagines. When she's jealous, the agent laughs more than she normally would and sometimes, without even realizing it, she slips out a few sarcastic phrases, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. If Emily becomes self-conscious about how is acting and reacting, she will apologize to you, a little embarrassed, and try to talk about it. Words of affirmation and physical touch are very effective ways of reassuring her, like holding hands under the table or using affectionate nicknames.

Jennifer Jareau

9/10

- Of all of them, the blonde is by far the most jealous. In addition to being easily susceptible, it's evident in every look, gesture and word, a growing anger at any provocation or inappropriate attention another person gives you. She finds it difficult to express this verbally or talk about the topic, but JJ is usually protective and very affectionate in these moments, which means arms wrapped around your body, hands held with fingers intertwined, an occasional kiss between collarbone and neck… possibly a mark in the same place will be made later, a hickey that she will constantly admire and be proud of, because you are hers and only hers.

Penelope Garcia

4/10

- Surprisingly, the hacker is jealous and doesn't make a point of hiding the fact. There are rare moments and it takes a bit of effort to happen, like when Derek calls you "Baby Girl" and she's openly bothered. At first, you both think the reason is because it's his exclusive nickname for her, only to quickly discover, in a friendly conversation, that she actually doesn't like anyone calling you affectionate names except herself, especially the sweet ones. And the man almost gets slapped on the head for teasing her on purpose. After all that, Penelope laughs and gives you a tender kiss, calling you all the sweet names she can think of, delighted to see you blush with some of them.

Tara Lewis

2/10

- Jealousy isn't on her agenda, even if you've been in a relationship for years it's possible to count on one hand how many times she's been jealous. If it does happen she's super chill during the whole thing, you hardly notice except for that familiar smile that doesn't really reach the eyes and fingers stroking down your forearm tortuously slow, believe, Tara doesn't even realize what she's doing until someone tells her. The topic is brought up in a pleasant conversation, with a few laughs and glasses of wine, which surely ends in a cuddling session.

taglist: @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @wastdstime @scarr0713 @geekyandgay98 @dvrkhcld @heidss @xvyzxx @quailbagutte @milciak @ctrlamira @milffilm @prentiss-theorem @josephinevr @cordyandbilliehavemyheart @unexpected-character @spenc-is-bi @grandtacoranchnickel @multifandomlesbianic @louderfortheback @lovelyy-moonlight @gratifiedgiraffe @h-doodles @moonzbluz @lilfartbox1

Join my taglist here ^^

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #preferences #alex blake x reader #elle greenaway x reader #emily prentiss x reader #jj x reader #jennifer jareau x reader #penelope garcia x reader #tara lewis x reader

[satninroses]

Behind Unlocked Doors: Pt. 2 | E.P x Reader

(A/N): The long awaited sequel is here!! I had initially started working on this pre-overhaul. It’s been sitting in my drafts for a little bit so I’m SUPER happy to have it published. I hope you all enjoy :-)!

Summary: Elvis confronts you after the run-in during part one. He shows you how much he loves and adores you.

Link to Pt. 1

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Fem! Reader

Word count: 4,682

Warnings: SMUT! MINORS DNI! Crying, Little bit of angst, Dirty talk, Fingering, Penetration, (F. receiving) Oral, (F. receiving) Hint of orgasm denial.

You didn’t join the Mafia for breakfast, lunch or dinner. Whenever there was a recording session, you sat in the corner of the studio and read a book quietly as to not draw attention to yourself. There were times when Elvis would stop you in the hall but you would act like you couldn’t hear him or see him and practically run back to your room.

Elvis on the other hand, hated this new treatment. You were already quiet and reserved. He knows he just made it worse. He desperately wanted to ask Jerry if he could talk to you but he didn’t know how he would react to Elvis watching his little sister masturbate.

At some point, Elvis had reached a breaking point. He needed to apologize or talk to Jerry. While he really didn’t favor either option, it was only chance at salvaging what he had ruined.

That night, Elvis had approached Jerry. Jerry smiled and waved.

“Hey boss. What’s up?” Elvis’ heart dropped. He would feel bad if Jerry already knew and he was telling him but Jerry really had no clue what was going on.

“Hey. I really need to talk to you about something. It’s not easy to talk about either. It’s about (Y/N).”

Jerry’s happy smile turned into a confused expression. “What do you mean?”

Elvis sucked in a breath. “I’m gonna tell you this. Please hold your anger til the end.” Jerry was really curious and a little worried.

“Ok?”

“The other night when you guys went to the casino and I stayed back, I walked upstairs to talk to her and walked in on her… relieving some tensions…” Elvis trailed off.

“I don’t understand Elvis.”

Elvis internally groaned. He knew he had to rip it off fast like a bandaid.

“I walked in on (Y/N) using a dildo on herself. She kinda… squirted everywhere. Even on me. I didn’t move and I watched but honest, I didn’t mean too. I know this probably isn’t something you wanted to know. However, she’s been acting off since then and I really need you to convince her to talk to me. I need to apologize real bad.” Elvis exhaled a breath that he didn’t even know he was holding. He waited for a response.

“I…” Jerry was at a loss for words. He didn’t know whether to be angry or surprised or all of the above. Before Elvis even had the chance to react, Jerry had slapped him across the face. His hands dropped to his side and he also exhaled.

“That’s for watching her and probably scaring her shitless. I’ll go talk to her but you better apologize IMMEDIATELY.” Elvis nodded quickly and out his hands out in defeat.

“Without a doubt. Thank you for doing this.”

Jerry nodded and walked out of the room. Elvis sat on the nearest and chair and took a moment to calm down. He knew he needed to make it clear to you that he wasn’t disgusted or uncomfortable with you. And, by the sound of his name pouring out of your mouth, you weren’t uninterested either. He had to think of a way to address the situation without coming across like a creep.

You sat on your plush bed and read some of your books. You needed a way to take your mind of everything that happened. “What if he thinks I'm disgusting or perverted?” You thought out loud to yourself. It was never your intention for him to walk in and see you in such a vulnerable state. You didn't mean to keep fucking yourself even with his eyes on you. Since then, you had been locking the door to every room you go into. Your room, the bathroom, the dressing rooms, sometimes the studio doors. (You don’t mean to do that. It’s a force of habit.)

There was a gentle rap at your door. You froze before tip toeing to the door to look out the peephole. It was Jerry. He wore a not-pleasant expression on his face. You opened the door and peeked out.

“Jerry? Are you ok?”

“(Y/N). I know what happened the other night. Elvis told me. I know it was unintentional and I’m here to pass on a message from Elvis. He wants to apologize, but he wants to apologize to you in person.”

An unhappy look spreads across your face. “Oh.” You simply stated. You cheeks begun to heat up in embarrassment and shame from being confronted by your big brother about something so private. You feel tears well up in your eyes at the idea of him being disgusted by your lack of self-awareness. You SHOULD have locked the door and you SHOULD have covered up and ignored the burning heat in your pussy. But you didn’t.

“I-I can try. Is he downstairs?” You ask through your heaving breathing and tears. “Yeah.” He replies. You rip your eyes away from him and look to the side. This was humiliating. How could you be such a prude?

“Sis, I’m not mad at you. Is that why you’re crying?” You sniffle again before the waterworks begin. He pushes the door all the way open and envelopes you in a hug. “I feel disgusted with myself Jerry. I feel like a whore and Elvis probably thinks I'm a whore too. I'm sorry Jerry.”

“Oh (Y/N). It ain't your fault. He came to me apologizing a whole lot. He didn't mean to make things weird. Listen, why don't we head downstairs and you can talk to him. I'll be right behind ya, ok?”

You stood there for a minute, held against your brothers chest thinking. Eventually you made a small noise to show you agreed and released him from the hug. “Please just give me a moment to collect myself.” He nodded. “I'll be downstairs.”

You entered your room again and took a deep breath to calm yourself down. You walked to your bathroom and fixed your hair and makeup. You changed from your pajamas to a cute, white babydoll dress. You threw on a big fluffy cardigan along with your frilly socks and Mary Janes. You made your way out of the room and took the elevator to the ground floor.

You arrived in the lobby to be met with an abnormal amount of people. You made your way around the sea of bodies to the V.I.P lounge where Elvis and the mafia were usually stationed. You walk up to the bouncer and tap him gently on the shoulder.

He looks down at you and smiles. “Hey (Y/N). Here to get a drink?”

“Not exactly. However, that's also welcome.” You both laughed softly. He lifted the bar and let you in. “Have a good night sweets. Stay safe.”

“Thank you Hank!” You gushed sweetly at him and waved. You made your way down the little hallway and into the lounge itself. It was littered with all kinds of people having a good time. You walked around for a minute before finding the booth that your brother was in. In the booth, Elvis sat at the end followed by Billy, Scotty, Jerry, Joe, and Charlie. Billy was the first to notice you.

“Hey (Y/N)! Came down to get a drink with us?” At the sound of your name, Elvis and Jerry shot their heads up. Elvis blushed and smiled at you but you sported a nervous look. You walked over and stood awkwardly by Charlie at the other end of the table. Charlie look up, confused, as to why you were just standing there.

“God damnit fellas, make some room for her! Scoot down Charlie!” Charlie followed by everyone else scoot down a seat leaving space right next to Elvis. He pat the spot invitingly and you sat down. You clenched your hands between your thighs and cowered. You were nervous. You didn’t want him to be doing this out of pity or because he was about to make fun of you. Your knee bounced up and down rapidly out of anxiety.

Jerry cleared his throat and you looked at him. He raised his eyebrow to ask ‘Are you ok?’ You nodded and looked away. Jerry flagged down one of the waiters to get you a drink and some food for the table.

“(Y/N), what do you want to drink?”

“Uhh… May I please get the Frozen Strawberry Daiquiri?” The waiter nodded.

“Anything else for the table?” Elvis perked up.

“Yeah, let us get 2 baskets of fries and onion rings each,” he leaned over you to speak privately to the waiter. “Oh and…get the lady some of those fancy chocolate covered strawberries.” Elvis slipped him a few $50 bills before he walked off.

While he was leaned over speaking to the waiter, his hands found their way onto your thighs as support. He played it off as trying to steady himself but you could see through that. While he grabbing the bills from his pocket, he grabbed onto your inner thigh to stead himself from falling. He leaned a good bit of his weigh onto you and let his hands slip up to in between your upper thighs. A dusty pink blush spread itself across your face as you let him hold you this way.

He released your thighs and you curled back into yourself. For the time that you had been waiting for your drinks and food, Elvis and guys had been talking up a storm. They cracked jokes, told stories, planned for different shows and all around had a good time. While it didn’t seem like it, you were also having a good time. You didn’t make any comments but you listened and giggled quietly at the appropriate times. These last few days of secluding yourself from everyone were boring. It was nice to hear people talk for a change.

The time passed slowly though. It had felt like forever since you ordered your drinks but like clockwork, they showed up. A few of the guys had ordered some beers to the table along with the food and your pretty drink. The waiter sets down your drink last before turning back to the cart. He pulls out a pretty pink heart-shaped dish with an assorted variety of chocolate covered strawberries.

You cock your head in confusion. “Oh, I’m sorry. We didn’t order this?”

“Mr. Presley ordered them.”

‘That’s probably what he was telling the waiter,’ you thought to yourself.

“Doll, they’re for you.” Elvis adds quietly. You turned your head and face him for the first time in a few days. You blushed again and opened your mouth, but shut it. You murmured a quiet ‘thank you.’

For a few minutes, you didn’t touch the strawberries. You just slowly sipped on your drink and thought about stuff. Finally, after 10 or so minutes, you started to eat. You took small bites to savor the flavor as these were the BEST chocolate covered strawberries you had ever had.

Elvis had watched as your face contorted from an uncomfortable look to a much more relaxed and content look. He leaned over to Jerry.

“I think I’m gonna talk to her now if that’s ok? Watch our drinks please.” He whispered in his ear. Jerry nodded his head but gripped Elvis’ sleeve.

“If she comes back crying again we’re gonna have to have a talk.” Elvis nodded and stood up. He wasn’t used to being bossed around by his right hand man, but he understood his protective instinct over his little sister and respected that.

“Darlin’. Would you mind comin’ with me? I need to talk to you real quick.”

You glanced up at him and back at your brother for help. Your brother plastered a reassuring smile on his face and nodded. You gulped and stood up to get out of his way. He you offered his hand to you and you took it, following him out of the lounge and into a back hallway.

“Is everything ok, Elvis?” You asked quietly. You were nervous as to what was to come. Was he about to fire you? Was he going to tell you that you needed to find somewhere else to go because you can’t travel with them? Was he going to fire you AND Jerry because of what happened? All these possibilities and thoughts clouded your head and you became visibly distressed.

“Yeah. I needed to talk to you about the other night.”

Oh god. It was happening. The media would find out about this and your lives would be destroyed. Everyone would find out how much of a whore you are. You would never be allowed out in public. People would call you names and mock you.

“Yes?” You replied shakily.

“I want to apologize. I should have knocked. I know I made you uncomfortable and I really don’t want that to be the way you think bout’ me. I’m real sorry yittle. I hope you can forgive me.”

You widen your eyes at his confession. ‘He thinks he made me uncomfortable?’ You feel an overwhelming sence of guilt take over.

“I-I.. I don’t know what to say. I thought I made you uncomfortable. I didn’t want to face you because I was afraid you would send me away. I’m so sorry Elvis.” You took a deep breath to calm your shaky breaths. Before there was a moment to speak, he enveloped you in a tight hug.

Your hands laid limp at your side for a moment but eventually, you wrapped them around his torso. His head laid in the crook of your neck and he breathed your scent. This nose breaths on a sensitive part of your neck and you push yourself into him and made a whimpering noise. He raised his head and stared down into your eyes. You stared back. You felt a sense of intimacy in this moment. You searched for the love in his eyes and he in yours.

“(Y/N)… Can I kiss you?” You didn’t respond. You made a bold move of initiating the kiss. You stood on your tippy toes and snaked your hands up and around his neck. He kissed back and deepened it as well. His lips were so soft and plush against your own. He stuck his tongue in your mouth to turn the kiss into a more sensual one. He tasted like rum and coke. His scent invaded your senses. The smell of his typical cologne- Lenel For Men- had hints of citrus and spice. You were intoxicated by his scent, taste, and the feeling of his body wrapped around your own. You could simply sit here forever and be stuck in his being forever.

He felt the same way about you. You were so pretty like this. So pretty when you look into his eyes. So pretty when you whimper. So pretty when you let him paw at your thighs. So so so so pretty when you squirted to the thought of him. Since that night, he wanted to fill you up and make you his own. He loved you and he yearned for you. He needed to make things right before he could act on his primal urges.

His kisses got more erotic and desperate. He wanted to be as close to you as possible. He wanted to be IN you. His hands slipped from your waist to the small of you back. You move your hands so they’re right up against his chest. You moan quietly his hands move further down and onto your ass. He gives it a squeeze and then a slap.

“E-Elvis! Maybe we shouldn’t do this right here…” You suggest timidly. You want him right now but you would rather not be caught by random bystanders.

“You’re right doll face. Wouldn’t want people to see what’s mine.” Mine. The word replayed in your head like a ringing bell. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. You could feel your panties become wet from his sultry and deep southern drawl. “Oh Elvis, you don’t know how long I’ve dreamed about this! I need you right now!”

He chuckled and pulled you into a secluded laundry room. He locked the door behind him and set you on a folding table. “Doll, you don’t know how long I’ve dreamed of this either. When I saw you the other night, pretty little cunt out I wanted to fuck you on that bed. I wanted to replace that silly little toy with myself. I want to be your man and I want you to be my woman.”

Your eyes widened at his confession. With some kind of newfound confidence and bravery, you pulled him by the collar of his shirt and kissed him. He didn’t hesitate to return the kiss. His hands went straight to cradling your cheeks. He squished them slightly and deepened the kiss. One of his hand snake down to your dress-clad breast and begins to gently massage it. His fingers find their way the the bottom of your dress and bunch it up to your waist.

“Take it off baby.” He demands. You nod quietly and pull the dress over your head and on the floor next to the legs of the table. His hands and mouth are all over you. His mouth begins to suck and nip at your collarbone while his fingers pinch and prod at your tits and nipples. “Oh, Elvis! Oh g-gosh.” You stuttered out. You felt him smirk against your collarbone before moving his mouth and hands down lower. He kisses the space in between and above your breasts before finally taking one of your nipples in his mouth.

His hands felt like lava on your skin as they pushed you down further onto the table. Your back hits the cold granite and it archs. You tits were pretty and perky in his mouth as his whole body moved to match yours- like a puzzle piece. His hands move from your stomach to your groin where he traced your pelvis bone with his rough, calloused fingers.

“Elvis, please. Please take me I need you.” He got a lopsided grin on his face and nodded. He pushes himself back from you and leans down so he’s eye level with your cunt. “So pretty, baby. You want me to take this pretty pussy? All’s you gotta say is yes and I’ll have you pretty girl.” You feel wetness pool in your panties and you nod frantically “Yes, please! Need you inside Elvis!”

His ego was being stroked and he let that show through. He pressed his fingers to your panties and let the wetness coat his fingers. The feeling of his hot fingers on your pussy sent an electric shock down your spine and you shivered. He stuck said fingers in his mouth and stared you down while he devoured your juices. He pulled them out with a pop and smirked. “You’re so sweet baby. Gotta taste the whole thing.”

He made quick work of your panties. He slid them down and put them in his pocket haphazardly. The cool air hit and your legs instinctively shut themselves around his hand. He pried them open with ease. “Gonna make you fall apart on my tongue baby.”

He let his fingers run through your silky folds and once again glaze his fingers. You moaned out his name and sat up. Your elbows supported most of your weight as you watched him with hooded eyes.

His mouth replaces his fingers as he dives head first into your cunt. His warm mouth wrapped around your pearly bud almost immediately after he started. Your arms buckle and you fall back onto the table. You back arches and you move your hands to where is head is stationed in between your legs. “Elvis! Oh god! Oh it feels so good Elvis don’t stop!”

He moves his fingers to your achy hole. At first, he was spreading your lips with his fingers but decided he needed to open you up before you took his cock. Using your wetness as a lubricant, he sticks a long finger in you. You let out a high pitched moan and vice gripped his hair. He took this as a sign to keep going. He sticks a second finger in you and begins thrusting then in and out.

You juices mixed with your velvet walls and his fingers made a sort of squelching sound that was only turning you on more. “Oh god Elvis. I’m so close, mmm!” You pushed your head against the table and began to clamp your thighs around his head.

As if the devil himself had possessed the black-hairs sex god below you, he removed his mouth and fingers from your burning heat. An empty feeling replaced the god-like sensation that was driving through your body. Your head shot up and you stared at him with a confused look. “W-why did you stop? Did I do something wrong?” He chuckled and shook his head.

“No baby. I want to fill you up with my cock though. I also want to cum with you.” You shivered at his words and nodded. He placed one of his hands on your tits and massaged them. Your mouth opens and silent gasps fall out at the feeling of him. He began to unbutton the shirt his shirt and unbuckle his pants with his free hand. He threw the shirt on the ground and kicked his pants off- leaving him in his boxers. He removed his hand from you and pushed his boxers down.

His hardened cock slapped his stomach and leaked with precum. “Ain’t it bigger than that silly toy? I know you wish it was me instead of that little thing.” You shuddered and nodded. You couldn’t tear your gaze away from his cock. You felt a little embarrassed but you just couldn’t stop looking.

“Are you ready pretty girl?” You nodded again. Your eyebrows furrow and your lips make a small ‘o’ shape. He prods the tip at you and begins to push it in. Inch by inch, you could feel yourself stretching out dramatically. While you have used dildos and other phallic shaped objects on yourself, you were still a virgin. You had never had a man fully inside you before- obvious by the pained moans that left your mouth.

“E… Please slow down it h-hurts.” He nodded and bent down to you. His torso lay over yours and his head was right near yours.

“Such a pretty girl. Such a sweet, angelic little thing. You have nothing to be afraid of baby, I’m gonna take real good care of you, right darlin’?” His sweet nothings were like a molasses to your ears. “Mmm, E? You can move now.”

Once he bottomed out, he began a stead, rhythmic pace as he thrusted into you. Little babbles and coos left your mouth. He just felt so good. All these months of lusting after him were really showing through now. All those nights when you rode that little dildo couldn’t compare to your position right now.

“Faster, please!” His thrusts picked up from a leisure stroll to a light jog. His hands moved from your hips, up onto the sides of your breasts. He balanced his weight before giving them squeezes, pinches, and prods.

“God darlin’. This pussy was made for me. Just molds around me so well. Gonna be mine forever.”

His pace increased sharply, as did his force. It felt like he was pounding you into the table and it hurt so good. He moved his hands to your sides and ceased action again. He pulled out and flipped you onto your stomach. He pulled you to the edge of the table so your legs dangled over the side. He re-entered again and rushed back to the pace you were at before. In this new position, he could reach even deeper into you so he could show you just how good your body could feel.

“Oh god! Elvis! Harder please!” He obliged and strengthened his pace. He placed both hands on your ass and pounded harder. “You gettin’ close baby? Gonna cum on me?” You let out a high-pitched ‘Mhm!’ Your hands stretched above you to hold the other end of the table with a tight grip. His hands squeezed the globes of your ass and he bent over you again. “Gonna make you cum so good baby. Gonna fuck you so good you won’t be able to do anything but moan my name. Make you my little dumb angel. Like the sound of that?”

You nodded and moaned. “Yes Elvis! I’m close! Please make me cum, mmm!” He could feel the way your cunt tightened around his cock signaling your release. “Come on baby, cum with me. Cum on my cock. Come on.”

He pace quickened again and he maxed out. His was growling in your ear and nipping your neck. All of a sudden, he hit a soft spongy part inside you that made you perk up. He hit it again, and again, and again, and again. You were seeing white spots and stars in your vision as you chased your release. “Gonna cum baby. Cum with me!”

His words pushed you over the edge and your orgasm hit you like a freight train. His orgasm hit him as well and he slammed his hands against the table. “FUCK!” he released deep into every nook and cranny of your pussy. His arms gave in and his full body weight was leaned against your back.

For a moment, neither of you said anything, just heavy breaths and small whimpers. He pushed himself up and off you and stood up straight. He took the panties out of his pants pocket and wiped his cock with them. You leaned up with what little strength you held.

He took the panties and wiped your pussy from behind with slow and gentle strokes. You let out overstimulated mewls.

“Are you able to stand doll?” He asked quietly. You slowly flipped over so you were on your back and touched your feet to the ground. You stood for a moment with wobbly legs and stumbled over to his arms.

“Barley.” You both laugh. He holds you close to him as he gets your dressed again. He puts on the cum soaked panties and pulls them up your legs. You push your thighs together and hold onto his shoulder. “You did really good baby. So proud of you.” He puts your bra on you and clasps it together. With the help of him, you slip on your dress and socks before sitting down on the table to wait for him.

He throws his boxers, pants, and button up back on. He puts his socks and shoes on and holds a hand out to you. “Let’s head back. If any of them ask, just say you cried a little bit.” You giggle and nodded.

“Oh, and doll?”

“Hmm?”

“I was serious. I want you to be my girl. I don’t want to spend another moment not with you.” He confesses quietly.

You gasp and look at him. Your big (E/C) eyes bore into his pretty ocean blue ones. “I want to be with you too Elvis. I love you so much.”

He smiles and kisses you sweetly. You return the kiss. You held that position for a few minutes before a loud voice calls down the hall. You let go of him and retreat to his side.

“Mr. Presley? Mr. Schilling was looking for you and Ms. Schilling. Should I tell them you’re alright?”

Elvis lets put a hearty chuckle and hugs you closer to his side.

“Tell him we’re more than alright.”

(Taglist): @mt12209 , @austinsmutler , @18lkpeters , @presleyenterprise , @myradiaz , @ccab @livelaughelvis

#50s elvis #60s elvis #70s elvis #elvis presley #elvis presley x reader #reader insert #elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader smut #x reader #x reader smut #reader insert smut #elvis x reader smut #satninroses

[scryarchives]

𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 - 𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐢 𝐲𝐮𝐮𝐣𝐢

yuuji's not a hair stylist, and tsubame's mistake was letting him try anyway.

masterlist

✭ pairings: itadori yuuji x oc ✭ warning: mentions of abuse, canon divergent, pre-shibuya arc ✭ author’s note: i actually had a lot of fun writing this, it's a nice break of fluff from the angst HEH– ✭ word count: 2.7k words

disclaimer: i’m not of japanese descent and am unfamiliar with japanese honorifics, etc. feel free to correct me!

There’s nothing better than a good night’s sleep, everyone can attest to that. Tsubame couldn’t agree more if it weren’t for the nightmares that haunted her mind, ones of anger, ones of regret, but most recently, ones of her father, a man she trusted, one who should’ve cared for her since her mother’s passing.

His horrid sneer permeated her memory as he grabbed her hair pulling her around like a ragdoll, this one moment staining her memories of home. She would often wake up in tears after, sometimes not even realising that she was crying until she reached her hand up to find the trails of tears leaking down her face.

This led to her constant urge to cut off her hair, no matter how nicely she styled it. Just the feeling of her hands running through it made her shiver in discomfort. Up to this point, she held in her discomfort, tying it up in a simple ponytail to ignore the way she had to look over her shoulder constantly.

However, during a particular training session where her hair was lightly tugged on, it spiralled into a little fit of fight or flight, causing Tsubame to almost beat her classmate, Itadori Yuuji, into a pulp, which she felt extremely guilty about – she ended up buying him dinner for the next few days.

Tsubame sighed at her miserable reflection in the mirror, scissors in hand as she willed herself to cut her hair to a shorter length, fearing that she might hurt someone else if they weren’t the wiser. Heck, she still couldn’t explain to Yuuji why she reacted in such a fashion, the words dying in her mouth the moment she tried to explain. 

Sweet as ever, he never pushed her, only smiling in acceptance as he lightheartedly brushed off her little outburst as an outcome of her trained instincts. It didn’t help with Tsubame’s guilt, however.

Just as Tsubame raised the scissors to make her first cut, her bathroom door burst open, interrupting the silence as she jumped, almost snipping off a big chunk of her hair. Relief washed over her nerves as she saw that all her hair was still very much intact.

“Itadori,” Tsubame huffed, placing the scissors on the sink’s countertop to rub her face anxiously. “How many times have I told you to knock before you enter my dorm…”

Yuuji nervously rubbed his neck, a sheepish smile on his face as his tone was filled with apology, “Sorry about that, it’s just that the others were– are you cutting your hair?”

His big brown eyes now looked at her in curiosity as he pointed at the scissors on her countertop. Tsubame followed her eyes to where he pointed, and she exhaled softly, nodding. Yuuji didn’t miss the way she looked fidgety, almost as if she wasn’t sure about her decision to cut her hair.

“Hey… are you alright?” Yuuji frowned softly, looking over to the scissors. “You don’t look confident about cutting your hair. Is this about last time? Tadashi, I really am sorry, I didn’t mean to tug on your hair–”

In an instant, Tsubame shook her head, reassuring him that it wasn’t his fault she was cutting off her hair, “No, no, Itadori, it wasn’t your fault. It’s just… my hair was getting in the way, you know?”

Yuuji frowns, not buying her lie, but he doesn’t push it. Tsubame knows he can see past her lie, and part of her hates how well he can read her. Sometimes, she forgets that just because he’s not as academically advanced as Megumi and her (as she often finds herself tutoring her pink-haired classmate, not that she minded), it didn’t mean that he doesn’t read people and their emotions well.

He sees the way her hands shake slightly, and he gently takes her palms into his, the sparks returning as she swiftly looks up at him, his kind eyes looking into her nervous ones. He doesn’t say anything about the pink blush on her cheeks, a soft smile growing on his face.

“Would you like me to help you?” He asks gently. “You’re uh, shaking quite a bit.”

Tsubame looked at the scissors once more before her attention darted to her hands which were engulfed by his larger, warm ones. She bit the inside of her cheek, exhaling softly before nodding.

“Okay,” she nods, finally meeting his gaze.

She never wears a smile, Yuuji notes. Tadashi is never seen with one, but everything is in her eyes, the way she carries herself. From the slightest hunch, he could tell she was either exhausted, or the stress from a mission was weighing her down. From the slight quirk of her eyebrow, she was thinking about the answer to a question Gojo-sensei asked, and from the little glimmer in her eye as she held a book in her hand he could tell she was excited, turning every page eagerly.

But right now, her eyes are soft, gentle almost. It’s quite the contrast from her sharp wit and tongue, and he feels his heart flutter softly as she looks so gently at him. Yuuji begins to smile, taking Tadashi’s hair in his hands.

“You’ve got pretty hair, are you sure you want to cut it?” He asks softly, and she nods, more confident in her choice this time.

“Yeah, I just… I want it short, I can’t really… maintain long hair anymore,” She huffs softly, looking at herself in the mirror as Yuuji stands behind her, her soft hair in his hands.

It’s silky, he thinks to himself, and it easily cards his fingers through her hair. Tsubame flinches but, his touch is gentle, and it reassures her that she’s in safe hands.

Finally, Yuuji raised the scissors, snipping away bits of her hair, bit by bit, and Tsubame kept her gaze on her hands, watching as bits of her dark locks fell onto the floor, bit by bit. It's a moment of silence between them, one of mutual trust.

Unfortunately, that trust is broken the moment Tsubame looks up at her reflection, seeing that her hair really is, rather awkwardly cut, with bits of hair sticking up and cut to uneven lengths. Horror fills her as she sees this change, but Yuuji doesn’t seem to notice her look of shock as she quickly pulls out her phone, texting Nobara and Megumi for help.

“Who you texting?” Yuuji asks in curiosity, Tsubame shrugging as she tries to cover up her previous expression with a small hum.

“Just Nobara and Megumi,” She hums softly. “I just uh, wanted a little outside opinion on the haircut.”

He grins, clueless as ever, “I’m sure they’re gonna love it! You look great with any hairstyle, to be honest.”

“...Yeah. Totally.”

Tsubame continued to eye her phone for a response, almost letting out a sigh of relief as Megumi quickly texted an ‘omw’. She plays with her fingers anxiously, dread filling her as she sees more and more bits of her hair falling onto the floor before finally Nobara and Megumi bust in, a laugh instantly escaping Nobara.

“Oh, my, god.”

“Shut up, Nobara,” Tsubame whispered to herself as Megumi eyed her haircut in amusement. He can see Yuuji smiling sheepishly as he holds a tuft of Tsubame’s hair in his hands, the said girl’s head lowered in humiliation.

“Oh come on, that’s hilarious!” Nobara grins, snapping a photo of Tsubame’s fuming face and badly cut hair.

Yuuji looks down at the haircut, brushing off some hair from his hands, “It’s not that bad, is it?”

“Oh, it’s so that bad, borderline horrifi– HEY!” Nobara hissed, clutching her forehead as Tsubame threw a tube of toothpaste right into her face.

“I’ll fix it,” Megumi sighs, walking over towards where Tsubame stood, gently pushing Yuuji aside as he takes the scissors, working his way through the mess.

Nobara mutters, rubbing her face, and eyeing Tsubame, “Sheesh, why’d you let Itadori help you? He clearly doesn’t look like he knows what he’s doing.”

Yuuji pouts a little at Nobara’s comment, and Tsubame can’t help but find it cute.

“Yeah, Tadashi, why didn’t you say anything?” Yuuji frowns, almost as if betrayed that she didn’t say anything.

Tsubame fiddled with her thumbs a little, calmed just the slightest from the way Megumi’s so gently cutting her hair – not that Yuuji wasn’t gentle, it’s just that he didn’t know what he was doing. Not one bit.

“Well, you were just really nice about it, and I felt bad if I told you it looked bad,” She mumbles, trying to brush it off with a shrug. “Besides, you were giving your best, and I admire that.”

Yuuji looked into her eyes, and with just one glance, he knew she was being honest. His stomach flipped a little in excitement, knowing that she was honest about her admiration towards him.

“Well, you could’ve just said it was bad,” Yuuji sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I know,” Tadashi looked away guiltily. “I’m sorry.”

He couldn’t help the way his heartstrings were tugged at the sight. 

He gently placed his hand on her shoulder, giving her the most reassuring look he could muster, “It’s alright, Tadashi. I get what you mean, but next time, just be honest with me, okay?”

Her eyes soften the slightest as she looks up at him. Since she can’t nod, she mumbles a small, ‘okay’, but what takes him off guard is the small upturn at the corners of her mouth. Yuuji felt his cheeks warm, turning them into a shade of pink similar to his hair.

“You guys are so mushy and ick,” Nobara sighs, winking at Tsubame’s direction. “Just get together already.”

Yuuji glared over at Nobara, his entire face red with humiliation. Tadashi’s face was the same shade of red as his, but as she glared her head moved and Megumi clicked his tongue, inwardly relieved that he hadn’t cut her hair yet. He placed his hand on her head, gently guiding it back before resuming his actions.

“Itadori and I just became friends, leave us alone,” Tadashi huffed. 

Yuuji agreed, his arms crossed against his chest in defiance, “Yeah, what she said!”

“And if I’m being honest, even though we just met, I trust you all,” Tsubame sighs. “So I might as well let you both in the secret, which Nobara has kept ever since we were kids.”

Yuuji raised his eyebrow in confusion, glancing over at Megumi who didn’t seem fazed in the slightest.

“Let me just… how do I phrase this,” Tsubame sucked her teeth in thought. “My name isn’t exactly Tadashi.”

“It either is or isn’t Tadashi,” Megumi quips, brushing the hair off of his hands, “Which is it?”

Tsubame sighs, fiddling with her fingers, “Fine, fine. It’s not Tadashi. Tadashi was a stupid name my parents picked when I was a kid because my grandparents wanted a grandson – my birth name’s Tsubame.”

Yuuji felt his jaw drop as he turned to Nobara who nodded in agreement.

“And you knew this the whole time?” Yuuji pouted in Nobara’s direction, the girl in question raising her hands in surrender.

“It’s a secret for a reason! I’m not that bad of a friend, sheesh,” Nobara puffed her cheeks in annoyance. “And Tsu-Tsu and I have been best friends since childhood, of course, she’d trust her secret with me!”

Tsubame mumbles a curse, a blush growing at the humiliating nickname, and Yuuji can’t deny how her flushed cheeks make him smile the slightest.

“Tsu-Tsu?” He grins, “Oh my god, can I call you that?”

“Absolutely not,” She glares, her cheeks flaring a darker shade of red.

“And done,” Megumi announced before Tsubame could lurch in Yuuji’s direction with her hands around his neck. “At least look at your hair before you murder Itadori.”

Tsubame sighed, placing her wire-frame glasses on the bridge of her nose before looking in the mirror, her eyes lighting up as she leaned closer, admiring her reflection, “...It looks great, thanks, Gumi.”

Megumi nodded in acknowledgement, but Yuuji brushed past the fact that they were on a nickname basis, more in awe of Tsubame’s new haircut.

Her long hair was snipped short into a pixie-cut kind of appearance, but the length of the hair varied, appearing to be longer at the front than the back with a little bit of her head shaved, resembling a medium fade undercut.

Perhaps it was the lighting in the bathroom or the overall renewed energy between them, but her eyes just seemed to sparkle more, and her presence just made his heart beat faster. Maybe it was the way her short hair framed her face better or the way he could see more of her true personality shine through as she admired her new haircut. It was definitely… unique, but she pulled it off.

“You look great, Tsubame,” Yuuji smiled, and his heart thumped harder when her coffee-coloured eyes met his. “I like this haircut on you.”

She rolled her eyes, and even if he was supposed to feel a little hurt by it, he couldn’t help but smile at her sarcastic tone, “You don’t get to like my haircut.”

“Oh, come on,” He whined playfully, pouting. “Don’t I get a little bit of credit? ‘Cuz if I didn’t mess up, you wouldn’t get to look this amazing?”

He can hear the annoyance in Tsubame’s voice, but the way her mouth quirks upwards and the way her eyes sparkle the slightest makes him think he’s hit the jackpot.

“Yeah,” She groans, admittance in her tone. “You did mess up my hair.”

“So, do I get to like it?” Yuuji grins, his heart beating faster, pride filling him at the sight of her smallest smile.

It was a step forward in the right direction, considering that this was the most direct form of happiness he’d received from her yet. He’s just that bit closer to breaking down her walls. 

“Yeah. It means you get to like it,” She crosses her arms, smile vanishing, but the twinkle in her eye says otherwise as she flicks his forehead gently, walking out of the bathroom.

Yuuji grins, following after Tsubame as Megumi sighs, tossing out the last of her hair into the bin, Nobara snickers as she takes a quick photo of Yuuji and her childhood best friend.

“Does that mean we get to use nicknames?” Yuuji peers over her shoulder as she huffs.

“No.”

“But you call Fushiguro ‘Gumi!” He frowns with a mumble, and she scoffs the slightest.

“Because we got along better, and I owe him lunch now for fixing up your mess,” She pokes his shoulder and he playfully whines.

“Then at least let me make it up to you!”

Tsubame hummed in thought, giving Yuuji the smallest smile, and that was enough to make him smile again. Her smile, her rare smile that no one else saw other than their little group, was enough to make him feel as though it was all he needed.

“I’ll think about your offer, but you can start with helping Gumi out with the tidying process,” She quips, walking out of the room as Nobara follows.

“What?!” Megumi grumbles, Tsubame’s voice echoing through her empty dorm room.

“You’re amazing, ‘Gumi! I owe you lunch and dinner!”

Yuuji sighed with a smile, grabbing the broom from the corner of the bathroom, and sweeping her hair together with amusement in his eyes.

“Ridiculous,” Megumi mutters to himself, watching his friend hum to himself happily as he sweeps up the bits of hair, as though he was simply re-energised at the sight of a girl smiling her smallest smile at him.

“Yeah, but didn’t you see her small smile, Fushiguro?” Yuuji grinned. “I’m closer to knowing the real Tsubame.”

“You’ve still got a long way to go,” Megumi hums to himself, tossing the last bit of snipped hair away.

“I know, but I’m not gonna give up just yet,” Itadori grins. “I’m so close, don’t ya think?”

Megumi thinks to himself in silence for a minute, taking a glance at a small picture by Tsubame’s bedside before opening her dorm door, his clothes and hands now free of stray hair.

“You’ve still got a long way more but… if anyone can open her up to us, it’d be you, Itadori.”

And that was enough encouragement for Yuuji as he grinned, walking out of the dorm as Megumi watched him in amusement.

“That’s enough for me to keep trying!” He laughs lightly. “I’m gonna be her best friend, just you wait!”

“Yeah… I’m sure you will,” Megumi nods in agreement.

“Now, where were they meeting for lunch? I’m starved.”

gif by @planetafiyu

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[elisysd]

57. Lately she's been dressing for revenge

Masterlist - Previously - Next

Chapter soundtrack: Vigilante Shit - Taylor Swift

Out of all the three American races, Austin was the one Julia loved the most. She loved the atmosphere, the fun activities that were always happening around the track, and of course she loved the race. She always found it exciting. That’s why, sitting on her sofa, ready to watch the qualifying with her brother and her mom felt bittersweet. Bitter because she wanted nothing more but to be there with her friends, especially since it was Kyle’s first home race of the year, and sweet because, after all, she was still home with the people she loved the most.

“Is Ethan going to win again?” asked Louis, a glass of apple juice in his hand.

“I don’t think so, Ethan is not very confident for the weekend.” Julia replied.

And Ethan’s instincts were confirmed at the end of the Q1, seeing both Maserati out respectively P16 and P18, but Julia noticed Romy’s car in the ones not able to make it through the first session. P20, her worst result since the beginning of the season. Julia promised herself to call her as soon as the qualifying would be over, especially after seeing her defeated expression during her interviews.

After an hour, it was finally Elijah, followed by Kyle and Martin, who managed to get the pole. It was a nice opportunity for Ferrari to put some pressure on Lamborghini but Julia also knew that Kyle wasn’t a soon-to-be third times world champion for nothing and that he wouldn’t go down without a fight. It would be a disputable race the next day and she couldn’t wait for it.

When she was sure that her friends were done with the media and race strategy meeting, she isolated herself in the patio to call her best friend.

“I feel like shit, really, this won’t be my weekend. I have no sensations with the car and Kyle’s mom did a number on me and I don’t know how to react.”

“What is happening?”

“Kyle’s childhood best friend is here. His mom insisted that Kyle send an invite.”

“And it’s a problem because….”

“Because she is his ex-girlfriend! His first love! And believe me, his mom made sure that I understood really well how nice she was, how perfect she had always been for her son and how she had always pictured them married. I can’t wait to have you in Vegas, I need to feel like I have someone in my corner!” Romy whined.

“Have you talked to Kyle about his mom?”

“To tell him what? Baby, I feel like your mom hates me and wants us to break up as fast as possible? Please, Julia… I don’t want him to have to feel like he has to choose between me and his mom. Oh, and do you know what she had the audacity to tell me? Kyle's eyesight disease was getting worse because I was stressing him out. That if I wasn’t a racing driver, he would get better or at least it wouldn’t get worse. That he deserved someone who was making his life easier and not worse. That…”

She heard a gasp on the other side of the line, before Romy apologized for having to hang up so suddenly. Julia didn’t need to ask to know that Kyle might have overheard their conversation. She contemplated Bailey playing outside with a wood stick as her phone started to ring. Her dad’s name appeared on the screen and she wondered what he might want.

“Have you watched quali?” He first asked, voice filled with happiness and pride.

“I did. Congrats. Tomorrow will be tough, though.”

“Any opinion on how we should handle the situation?”

“Well… To try to keep the advantage in the first laps. It will be tough because Kyle never misses his start, it’s probably one of the thing is the best at. So, maybe Martin could just try to push him to his limits so he doesn’t have any other chance but to defend. It will kind of sacrifice Martin but we seem to bet better than Lambo with our tyres management recently. So, with a little chance, Kyle will be forced to pit earlier than us.”

“And in that case, we could create a gap between our cars and the rest of the grid. I have to talk to Martin about it, it’s his race that we will sacrifice, I want to make sure he is on board.”

“I mean, whether he likes it or not, we always privileged the driver who was on pole.” she said, shrugging.

Her dad couldn’t talk much with her, explaining that he had to talk to a few mechanics to make some adjustments on the cars and left her. She had still one phone call to make and she feared it wouldn’t be a pleasant one. As she expected, she was welcomed by a very moody Ethan.

“I mean, of course I can’t do my best when I have a fucking tractor with me! Have you seen how slow it was and how I couldn’t even drive it properly? I’ve been kicked out from Q1 by Skoda, Julia! Skoda! The team who barely scored any points this year and will finish last in the constructor’s standing! I know you worked for them and I know you’re still friends with Niels and Noah but come on, they shouldn’t have made it through Q1! Now I’m going to start from the back and I hate that.”

“Hey, breathe. Focus on trying to not get too caught up in traffic tomorrow. Have a clean start, with a clean race. You know the podium will most likely not happen and it’s fine. Just try to make it into points.”

“Yeah… easy with an undriveable car.” he mumbled.

“Have faith.”

“I don’t need faith, I need a good strategy and a good car.”

“You know you’re quicker than the guys in front, you have no real opponents there. It should be easy. And most of all, you’re a top driver in a mid-field car and usually this pairing can work wonders on tracks.”

“I skipped the meeting,” he confessed. “I didn’t want to go there angry and say things I would regret.”

“But and the strategy…”

“Tomorrow. And maybe in the meantime I’ll be able to come up with one that won’t be too shitty. Anyway… tell me about your day. Have you been able to work on your presentation?” he changed the subject as she could hear him shifting on what she guessed was his bed.

“Kind of. It’s hard to keep it concise, I want to talk about so many things…”

“You’ll find the way. Don’t worry too much, they will love the project.”

She spent her next morning in front of her computer, working on her presentation and taking notes on the side before trying to come up with a budget plan to see how much it would cost. She felt dizzy when she noticed that it would probably cost millions and wondered if the FIA would be really ready to spend that much on a project that she had no idea was really doable or even if it would be something teams would want to be part of and if kids would be interested.

She stopped right as the race was about to start. As usual, her mom was wearing an old Ferrari cap and she was surprised to see Louis in Ethan’s merchandising. She suddenly felt bad and ran to her room to put on the shirt a fan had once gifted her, the one where Ferrari and Maserati colors were mixed. She saw her mom smiling when she came back but didn’t dare to comment on it. They got ready and when the lights went out, Julia grabbed a pillow, pulling it against her, hoping nothing would happen in the first corner. Thankfully, nothing bad happened. Ethan had gained two positions which wasn’t bad but what was worrying Julia was that Romy was still last, despite a start from the pitlane. There was definitely something wrong with her driving as her teammate didn’t seem to struggle as much as her. So it wasn’t really surprising for Julia to see her friend retiring the car, halfway through the race.

In front, the strategy she had advised her dad to use had been effective until a badly executed pit stop cost Elijah his first place and with Martin still on used tyres, she knew that he wouldn’t be able to hold Kyle back who was on freshly new ones. The American finally managed to lead the race fifteen laps before the end of the race, under a roaring crowd who exalted when he finally drove in front of them. Elijah and Martin were still in the fight but it was almost sure that Kyle would win his home Grand Prix. She focused on Ethan to see him struggling behind Niels’ Skoda. He was P12, clearly not what he would like to be but she didn’t know how he could. When it was finally over, she was happy for her dad even if her advice had not worked as good as she had expected but disappointed for her friends. She saw Kyle rushing to his family before searching for Romy who was watching from afar. Even in front of a broadcast she could read the frustration written all over her face. When the celebrations were finally over, her mom decided to order pizza, to finally have a calm family night without unnecessary drama. Julia suspected that it was also to avoid her overthinking her meeting the next day. Meeting she wasn’t sure she was one hundred percent ready for, but she hoped that it would be enough.

She had borrowed her mom's clothes trying to feel a little more confident but as she was waiting for the meeting to start, she had never felt more out of place. She was so enthusiastic about her project, so sure it could bring something great to the sport that the idea of failing was terrorizing her.She didn’t know what she would do if the FIA was telling her that they wouldn’t go forward with her. But she didn’t have much time to think about it as Lewis’ face appeared on her screen, soon joined by the other representatives of the Federation and the vice-president himself. She gulped as she tried her best to memorize the names and functions of each one of them. Noticing she also was the only woman in the room, she quickly understood that it was going to be tough. When it was finally her time to talk after a very long introduction, she explained exactly what she had told Lewis, but this time adding graphs and percentages about the number of women in motorsport as well as the number of people of color and disabled ones. Numbers that were ridiculously low.

“And finally, I thought about creating a FIA scholarship for kids who were really talented and could actually go to big universities but might not be able to for financial reasons. The scholarship could be given by the FIA alongside team principals. It would give another reason for these kids to really give their all. And, that’s all for me… if you have questions, I would be happy to answer them.”

When Lewis was the only one clapping and thanking her she knew that her worst fear was about to happen. And when the very few questions she got were more about her and not about the projects, she already had the reason why they were about to tell her no. The final blow came from the Vice-President.

“You see, Miss, you got yourself quite the reputation here after the rumors coming from your implication in Ferrari’s cheating scandal. Even though we don’t have any proof, the allegations are still there and I’m not sure it’s a great idea to have you working in an environment where you could be tempted to find information you could give to your dad. I’m not saying you would… but it’s a possibility I’m not ready to explore. And you’re young, barely have any experience and the little you have didn’t end well. Wilhelm didn’t have a lot of nice things to say regarding your work and about your attitude. Giving you such a high responsibility with leading and organizing a project like that, as interesting as it is, might be too much pressure for you to handle. And we have no proof, for sure, that it’s a project that is worth investing our time and money into.”

“With all due respect, mister the Vice-President, I had a talk with Julia before this official meeting and I could see how much effort and research she put into it. I don’t think it’s a good idea to reject her proposal on the sole reason that she is too young and isn’t deemed trustworthy. Sometimes, you have to give someone a chance.” Lewis intervened.

“I know how inclusion and diversity are important for you Lewis and maybe you're biased too by the affection you have to Miss Leclerc and her father, but I’m not confident enough to give her such a big responsibility. At least not now, and to be honest, with the new regulations we are preparing for the next two years, I don’t have the time to think about the fate of kids.” he finished in a laugh.

It was a slap she hadn’t been ready to receive, no matter how she had prepared herself for the eventuality. But showing them how hurt she felt was out of the question. She quickly got back her composure before staring at the camera.

“Well… it’s sad but, I’m sure that if you don’t want that idea, someone else will be happy to help.”

“And who, exactly? It’s not like you had the abilities to do that all by yourself, you need support, Miss Leclerc.”

“I guess, it’s my problem now and not yours. Thank you for your time. Saying that it had been a delight to have this conversation would be lying, so I might as well not say anything. Goodbye sirs.” she said, hanging up, her chin high.

She closed her eyes and breathed deep. On the bright side, she would have something to talk to her therapist in the afternoon. When she exposed him to the situation, he didn’t seem very surprised.

“From what I gathered with everything you told me, it’s still a very sexist environment. It doesn’t come as a surprise that you’ve been rejected. The question now is, are you going to give up or are you going to prove them wrong?”

“Working on this project, thinking about it, doing research, talking about it and seeing how excited people felt and how interested they were… I don’t see myself giving up. I can’t. It’s something important to me, it became important. I’ll find another way. I don’t know how and I don’t know what I will do, but I’ll come up with something.”

When she got out of her therapist’s office she was surprised to see a new message from Lewis telling her how sorry he was about the meeting but that he believed in her project and was ready to help her. She just had to inform him on her next steps. She thanked him and Lewis told her that he was glad to see a real inclusive project emerging and if the FIA wasn’t ready to help her, it was their own choice but it didn’t mean that he had to follow.

Her mom wasn’t surprised either when Julia explained what had happened. She laconically said that she expected it but naively thought that the arrival of Romy and Chloe as F1 drivers had meant a change in mentality in the Federation. She was sad to see that the years might pass by, the same societal issues were remaining.

“Mom, can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Was it hard to create your charity?”

“A lot of sleepless nights and a lot of tears. Ask your father. And it was even tougher that you were a toddler back then. Why?”

“Because, I don’t want to give up on my idea. I feel like it’s something good and I need to do it. It’s probably the first time that I feel like I could make a change somewhere, I want to make a difference out there. But I don’t know where to start, the FIA was the easy way in. I’m not sure I have enough knowledge to start something on my own.”

“I didn’t have any knowledge when I started mine, just the idea to provide mental health support and career advice to young women in the entertainment industry. The first thing you need to do, after defining your plans, is to find people who would be onboard to join you. You need support. People willing to help you, offering financing. It’s a lot of networking and it’s time consuming.”

“I don’t care, I just want to start somewhere. Networking doesn’t scare me, it’s everything else that feels so overwhelming.”

“Maybe I can help you…. Maybe for a while, your association could be under mine as a partner, another branch. Mental health and inclusivity can be linked together. I would give you full independence in whatever you want to do and you would have access to an already established financial, marketing, communication and law departments. Best of both worlds. But, just to be clear, you’re in charge of everything, I’m not helping you with anything, you have access to resources but that’s it, you’re responsible for all choices and decisions, I’m not intervening.”

“I have to think about it but, thanks.” Julia said, hugging her mom.

Talking to her mom and knowing she had the choice to get her help without feeling like she was using her for her connections reassured her a little bit. Exhausted by her day, she fell on her bed as soon as she crossed her bedroom’s door. She had a few texts from her dad, telling her that her strategy might have been the good one if the pitstop had been successful and she smiled. Ethan had also texted her, saying that he wasn’t feeling very proud of himself and that he was feeling his insecurities of not being enough coming back. Some media outlets were talking of his win in Spa as a stupid beginner's luck. She called him and he picked up almost immediately. It didn’t need much from her side to make him talk about his feelings. She silently listened to him, reacting to his words when she felt like it was needed and when he stopped, she could hear that he felt better.

“So, tell me how it went with the FIA.”

She told him and when it was over she heard him sigh on the other end of the line and didn’t exclude her mom’s offer, telling him how she was hesitating.

“Bastards. Always have been and always will. I think you should take up on your mom’s offer. I mean, it’s the quickest way to achieve what you want to do”

“I know. And it’s not as if she was doing everything for me. I would need to do all the work and I can come to her for advice but I know she will let me figure things out by myself. I wanted to ask, just to make sure, I have you onboard for this project, right?”

“Of course, you don’t even have to ask. I can also talk to Kyle about it. As the Grand Prix Driver Association’s director, he has a little bit of weight on decisions taken. Not sure how much but he could be able to give you names of people you can talk to. I can also talk to some team principals, if you want.”

“No. I mean, I appreciate that you want to help, really, but I also want to do this by myself.”

“Once stubborn, always stubborn…” he mumbled. “But fair enough, that’s your thing, you want to defend it.”

“Yeah and it gives me time to prepare a speech to each of them. I'll be there for Vegas, anyway so it will come fast enough. I’m not in a rush.”

“Suit yourself, just know that I stand by what I said, if you need me, I’ll be there.”

“And I know I will use it when it comes handy.”

“That’s what friends are for, Joolsie.”

Every time the word friend was coming out of his mouth, Julia was feeling like a stab in her heart. She knew she had to prove herself trustworthy, she knew all the history they shared and all their problems were yet to be totally overcome, but still, it hurt.

“But are we? Friends, I mean.” she asked.

“Julia… You know what I said. I still do, love you, I don’t think I will ever stop loving you. I’m just more cautious when it comes to you, now. I’m not saying that we will never happen, Joolsie, just that… yeah, I need you to grovel a little bit.” he laughed. “And I want to take it slow. We rushed everything and I think it’s part of why it didn’t and couldn’t work, we didn’t start the most conventional way.”

“I’m aware that I need to prove myself to you but I already told you that I intend to show you that I can fight for you.”

“I can’t wait to see that. What have you planned?”

“It wouldn’t be funny if you knew.”

“Are you saying that little miss control freak would actually consider doing big gestures? I’m shocked.”

“I love you.” she blurted out, a little unexpected but she was surprised how easy it was to tell him. And he was also caught off guard judging by the silence that fell. “Ethan?”

“You shouldn’t say things like that. It’s blurring the lines between friendship and whatever we’re supposed to be but are not ready.”

“So you can say it but not me?”

“I can say it because I’m ready and I’m sure of myself. However you are still…”

“Unreliable and not trustworthy. It’s fine. I understand.” she finished, bitter, but understanding where it was coming from.

“Pretty much.”

“Well, I meant it, brace yourself. I’m going to prove to you that I’m two hundred percent sure of what I want. At least when it comes to us. I’ve always known, deep down, but was too stupid to admit it. But if there is a slight chance that I can fix what I’ve broken, you can be sure that I will take it. I’m very serious.”

“I believe you. Maybe I should be careful in Vegas… Next thing I know you will drag me in the first Elvis you’ll find and we will be married.”

“Is that a challenge?”  she asked in a playful tone.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“I guess you will just have to wait and see.”

Author's note: Fucking FIA.

What do you think will happen next? Let me know your theories, I love to read them.

Don't hesitate to leave a comment or an ask, as well as reblogging and leaving a like. Besides the fact that I absolutely love to read you, it helps a lot for the story to find its audience. I also have a taglist for this story, so if you want to be added so you never miss a chapter, let me know.

Taglist:

@herondalism @aundercover @musingsbyshreya @karmabyfernando @reengard @mycenterfold @smoooothoperator

#writing #fiction #charles leclerc #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x oc #charles leclerc fanfic #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen

[randomshyperson]

Attraction and Reaction - Wanda Maximoff x Dom!Reader - Part 2

Prompt based “ WandaXReader where they're always arguing and being sarcastic to eachother but it's just sexual tension. Maybe smth with the lines "why are u laghing did I tell a joke?" "why don't u look inside my head and find out". I think it would be pretty cool. It doesn't have to be smutt though, only If u fell like it (also a dom!reader would be nice)" > Link for part One

Notes: Some people asked me to write a part 2 of this one, and i took me a while but I finally did it. Nobody specified whether they wanted part two for the smut or for the story so I put a little of both.

Warnings>  18+, Smut, language, mentions of past abuse.

Words:  6.243 (Complete)

Marks (I keep forgetting to put this but hope people don’t hate me haha) > @mionemymind​ @wandamaximoffpuppy​

AO3 (Complete / Two Parts)

Maybe you guys had been in the room for a long time.

But you didn't care about the time as you had Wanda riding on your face, and you were licking and sucking her, while she moaned loudly with her mouth open as she forced her hips down and held on to the headboard.

- Fuck! Right there. - She said breathlessly - Don't stop.

A few strokes later and she came apart in your mouth, for the fourth time in a row. The taste only seemed to get better.

And then she was throwing herself on the bed trying to normalize her breathing, and you leaned over to rest your head on her belly while your fingers trailed up her thigh.

But a knock at the door caught your attention next.

- Wanda, is everything all right? - That was Bucky on the other end. - I made dinner, I was wondering if you would like some.

- No, Bucky, thank you. - Wanda shouted back a moment later, disguising her current state well. You let out a giggle, and ran your fingers down her skin, penetrating her pussy afterwards, and she bit back a sigh.

- That's fine. Do you know where Y/N is? I haven't seen her since this morning, and she's not in her room. - He then said and you chuckled softly, as Wanda held back a moan at having you inside her.

- No. - She answered half breathlessly, and forced herself to sound less affected in the next sentence. - I have no idea.

But then you began to rotate your finger against her clit and she sank her face into the bed, gasping for breath. It took a moment, then Bucky spoke again.

- You guys are fucking, aren't you?

- Trying to! - you retorted impatiently, beginning to kiss Wanda's skin.

You can hear Bucky let out a chuckle before his footsteps move away. But your attention was focused on Wanda, coming on your fingers again.

- Fuck. - She mumbled breathlessly, running her hands through her hair. - I don't think I can go on. - She commented with a smile, her gaze lazing on you.

You smiled as you lifted your face to meet hers, and kissed her slowly and sensually, but she really looked tired, even though her hips moved toward you.

- Get some sleep, dear. - You whispered to her, trying not to be startled by how easily the nickname slipped out of your mouth. Wanda smiled, closing her eyes. When her breathing became deep, you pulled back the blankets to cover her naked body, then stood up.

You picked up your clothes from the floor, and when you finished dressing, you left the room.

Bucky was reading something when you entered the room, and you went around the counter to get some coffee.

- Sorry for getting in the way of your conflict resolution. - He said ironically, his eyes still on the paper. You giggled.

- No problem, Barnes. - You replied before taking a sip of coffee.

You walked over to the couch where Bucky was sitting and looked curiously at the papers on the table as you sat down in the armchair next to him.

- What are you working on anyway? - you asked, crossing your legs. Bucky let out a sigh.

- On you guys, actually. - He said, and you frowned in confusion. But he didn't look angry, just busy. - Steve worries that the team works as a whole. He asked me to study your training results and try to find a way to solve your problems.

- I think that's been taken care of. - You sneer, but Bucky keeps a serious expression.

- Sex doesn't solve your problems. - He says and you blink in surprise. - It's just an escape valve.

You laugh ruefully, putting your coffee cup on the table.

- What are you talking about? Wanda and I just needed to vent our anger somehow. There is nothing to work out.

Bucky shook his head in denial, placing the pages he had in his hand on the table.

- Look, do you remember how it used to be with me and Sam? - He asked, and you rolled your eyes, nodding in agreement.

- We're not like....

- Listen first. - he asked with a smile, and you sighed, nodding. - Sam and I used to fight because we couldn't accept the nature of our relationship. - He explains. - And we both looked up to Steve and wanted him to be proud of us. And then we would fight to see who got his attention.

- That's very gay. - You comment humorously and Bucky chuckles lightly before continuing.

- The relevant thing is that when Sam and I first started having sex, we weren't communicating. - He says and you blink in surprise. - Angry sex is no substitute for conversation. It took a while, but we managed to talk about how we really felt, and now we are doing just fine. 

You sighed thoughtfully, leaning your back against the chair as you entwined your hands in your lap.

- I don't know what to tell you, comrade. - You say. - I have no quarrel with Wanda. We're fine. 

Bucky looked at you for a few seconds, and then shrugged his shoulders and turned his attention back to his papers. You began to think that you were repeating that things were fine for yourself and not for him.

//-//

Everything was fine.

The day after the events of the past morning and afternoon, you only met Wanda over breakfast. She smiled and waved you good morning, and you did the same.

And when you two got up to leave the dishes in the sink, she enjoyed being put on the countertop while you stayed on your knees with your head between her legs. Or at least you understood that she did, when she came in your mouth and moaned your name.

Everything was fine. Until it wasn't.

Bucky requested another therapy session with you two, and at the moment you were sitting in an armchair facing Wanda in an empty room, waiting for the soldier.

You were trying not to let your mind wander to the image of the redhead squirming with pleasure beneath you as you looked at her but you were failing miserably.

You cleared your throat, looking away and then Bucky entered, apologizing for the delay and saying that the rest of the team should be back in the tower soon.

- Can we try talking today, girls? - He said as he sat down, and you crossed your arms, shrugging. Wanda twiddled her fingers slightly. - I'd like to try the questions again.

You and Wanda exchanged a look before nodding, and Bucky smiled, pulling his small notepad from his pocket and reading briefly before speaking.

- Y/N let's start with you today. - He says. - Can you tell me something you like about Wanda?

You bite your lip.

- The way she moans my name.

Bucky blinks in surprise and discomfort but lets out a giggle, Wanda blushes softly looking away.

- Great, we've gone from immense hatred to unrestrained horniness. - He wryly chuckles. - Please girls, let's try to make this work.

You let out a sigh, getting thoughtful for a moment. 

- All right, Bucky. - You say. - I... I like how caring Wanda always is.

Wanda blinks in surprise, and Bucky looks happy. 

- That's nice. - He comments with a smile. - And you Wanda, can you tell us what you like about Y/N?

Wanda looks at you for a moment, and then looks away from you to Bucky.

- I like how protective she is of everyone here. - She confesses and you look at her attentively. - Even with me, and even when we are fighting, when we are in the field, she cares about everyone.

You swallow dryly as you look away from Wanda, wanting to ignore the feeling in your stomach.

- That's great, girls. - Bucky comments and you almost forget that he was there. - I would like to ask how this conflict started.

And then you shift uncomfortably in your chair. Because you remember it so well. Clearing your throat, you stand up.

- I don't want to do this anymore. - You say, looking at Bucky, who looks very surprised. He closes his notepad, but before he can say anything, Wanda says.

- So you're just going to run away again?

- Yeah, Wanda, I'm just going to run away. - You retort angrily as you move your feet out of the room, slamming the door on your way out.

//-//

You had been training for a few hours, your muscles ached and your body begged for a rest, but you kept punching the bag in front of you.

- Someone is angry. - sneered Natasha as you entered the gym. You blinked in surprise.

- I didn't know you were back. - You retorted without stopping your punching.

And then Natasha was climbing onto the mat, smiling at you.

- A little bird told me that you resolved your conflicts in the best possible way. - She teased, coming closer and tapping your fists to make you stop. You sighed breathlessly, your body reacting immediately to the lack of movement.

- I don't want to talk about it. - You retorted as you took off your boxing gloves, and walked away. 

- I figured as much. - She said, following you around the gym as you left the ring and looked for a bottle of water. - But you need it, so we''ll talk.

You let out an impatient grumble, and then Nat was touching your shoulder and you turned away abruptly.

- No. - You warned with clenched fists, but Nat was not intimidated.

- I know what happened to you. - She said and you closed your eyes tightly, trying to control the boiling anger rising in your chest. - I know because I saw the red room when she was in my head. But you have to understand that Wanda is on our side now and…

- I know that! - you retorted angrily. - I know that she's just a victim in this whole thing, okay? I just... I don't... - You paused, trying to normalize your breathing, and control your tears. - I haven't seen my family in twenty years. And I don't think about them, I can't remember their faces. I wasn't ready to see them that day, and I can hardly breathe when I remember. I just need time.

- You can't take out on Wanda the anger you had for them. - Nat replies seriously, and you sigh, sitting down on the bench next to you, your face buried in your hands.

- I know. - You say. - I just... God, she is probably the only person who knows everything. I wasn't ready to tell anyone, or deal with it alone, and she just came in and she just knows everything.

Nat sat down next to you and put her hand on your thigh.

- You need to talk to someone about this. - She said. - Not with me, not with Wanda. With a professional who can help you.

You nod, squeezing her hand. 

- I know. - You say with a sad smile. - I will, I just... It all seems so recent.

- You've been burying your traumas pretty well, that's all. - She jokes, and you laugh weakly.

You stood for a moment in silence before standing up. Nat let go of your hand to give your shoulder a squeeze before she left the gym. You sighed, deciding that you should call that contact Sam had told you about.

//-//

When you returned to your room, you had an appointment. You went into the shower, and took too long, trying to calm your nerves under the hot water. 

And then you were startled to get out and find Wanda waiting for you.

- I want to talk to you. - She declared as soon as you came out of the bathroom, sitting on your bed.

You let out a sigh, moving toward your closet. You didn't mind being naked in front of Wanda, it was nothing she hadn't seen before. And then you threw the towel on the bed and put on a loose T-shirt.

- You can talk. - You retorted, turning to her, and bit your lip when you noticed Wanda's gaze and flushed cheeks. - Earth to Wanda? 

Wanda grumbled at your teasing and looked away, you smiled as you picked up the towel from the bed to take it to dry off.

- I don't know what's bothering you. - She says after a moment, and you swallow the discomfort in the pit of your stomach. - But I've talked to Bucky, and he doesn't think it's healthy for us to continue with, well, whatever it is, before you can talk about your feelings.

You hang up your towel and then turn to Wanda with an impassive face.

- Okay, then. Good night. - You tell her sharply, and Wanda blinks in confusion.

- That's all you're going to say? - she asks incredulously, and you let out a dry laugh.

- You're the one who came here to say that you don't want us to happen anymore. 

- I didn't say that.

- What difference does it make? - You retort. - It's not going anywhere anyway.

Your statement leaves your mouth bitter, and Wanda stares at you for a long second before turning and leaving the room. You feel your body boil with anger, but you're tired. So you just throw yourself on the bed and hope to sleep soon.

//-//

Your fights with Wanda stop, mostly because you just don't talk to each other anymore. But Bucky seems to accept this as progress, and releases you from the sessions. And then you are seeing the psychologist that Sam recommended, and things are getting better for you.

She asks about your family, and teaches you to control your anger attacks with breathing exercises and focus. It is enough for weeks, until you have to really face your memories as you use Tony's technology to remember what your parents did to you. Of how they gave you your abilities. 

It is suffocating, and painful, but you survive. And it feels good to breathe normally again. 

You want to ignore the feeling that there is something missing, mainly because you believed that once you were healing, you wouldn't think about Wanda anymore. But now that the anger is gone, you just miss her.

Many weeks after your discussion, you are in the Caribbean, trying to investigate an abandoned Hydra base, and you have Wanda as an exploration partner.

- Did you find anything? - you asked as you two walked together into yet another empty room of an abandoned compound. Wanda was going through some drawers, going through their contents.

- Nothing that Tony hasn't already hacked. - She said, and then you turned around when you heard a noise at the door behind you. Raising your pistol in the direction of the sound, you let out an exclamation of surprise when the door suddenly opened, and a man jumped at you. Clearly a soldier, judging by his clothing. You fought back his blows, and were ready to fight, but Wanda simply used her magic to throw him across the room and he blacked out. You looked at her, and she shrugged. - Sorry, did I step on your moment?

- That sentence is mine. - You heard Natasha's voice interrupt, probably joining you as soon as she heard the sound of conflict. You shook your head, laughing lightly as you stood up. - I'm taking our friend in for interrogation, so finish up here. - She said before dragging the man across the room and out. You were dusting off your clothes as you walked toward Wanda.

- Since we can't find anything around here, I guess we can go. - You grumble, and then let out an exclamation of discomfort, which attracts the attention of Wanda, who raises her eyes in your direction.

- Are you all right? - She asked, coming closer and raising her hands to where you were pressing yours, above your shoulder.

- Yes. - You retorted with mild surprise at her concern. - It was just the impact. 

You watched as Wanda's eyes ran quickly to your mouth, and you felt your heart race in anticipation. 

- Okay, then. - She grumbled, lowering her hands and placing them behind her back, looking everywhere but at you. You bit your lip, bringing your bodies closer together, as Wanda attempted to move away, but slammed her back against a cabinet, and let out a gasp.

- Are you nervous? - you ask quietly as you approach, watching Wanda's chest rise and fall out of rhythm. - I just want to thank you for helping me in the fight. - You whisper as you lift a finger to caress her cheek, Wanda holds her breath. Then you let your mouth come up to her ear. - Thank you, Wanda. You've been a good girl.

Wanda closes her eyes tightly, and her hips thrust forward. You smile smugly, as you turn your face to kiss her deeply. She moans against your tongue, and you push your body against her, pressing her into the cabinets.

Your hands move down her thighs, and as you kiss her hard, you push up the fabric of her skirt, and let your fingers run over her skin.  When you push the fabric of her panties aside and penetrate her, she breaks the kiss with a loud moan, and you sigh as you feel her all wet.

- Wanda, you're dripping, baby. - You whisper against her lips as you move your fingers across her swollen clitoris. - How long have you been waiting for me to touch you?

Wanda whimpers, burying her head in your neck. You swallow dryly, trying not to be carried away by the feeling of having her so hot, and concentrate on keeping the movements steady. And then you pull out of her only to insert another finger, and she bites your shoulder.

She is making delicious sounds as her hips push against your fingers, and you want to kiss her again, so you use your free hand to hold her neck and make her look at you. Wanda gasps in surprise, but matches your tongue in her mouth, moaning against you.

A moment later, she begins to quiver in spasms against you, whimpering as she tries to stand upright. You take your hand from her neck to hold her waist and keep her steady as you increase the speed of your fingers, and then Wanda comes, a loud moan with her mouth open as she digs her nails into your arm.

- What the hell is taking you guys so long? - You hear Steve's question on your communicator, and let out an impatient grumble. 

- We're coming. - You say raising your hand to the device in your ear and look at Wanda trying to normalize her breathing. - Wanda already did actually.

Wanda slaps your arm as you laugh lightly, but Steve doesn't seem to understand. And then you are hurrying out of the room. You like it when she kisses you deeply on the stairs, before you join the team.

//-//

When you all return home, Steve requests a meeting with you. After showering and putting on comfortable clothes, you go to the room where he is waiting.

- Hey, Y/N, what's up? - he asks, sitting in one of the chairs. You smile, nodding.

- Why did you want to talk to me? - You ask, and he lets out a chuckle at your impatience.

- I'd like to know how your appointments have been. - he says after a moment. - You have shown progress in your training. And it's been over two months since you've had any anger episodes.

You shift the weight on your feet, slightly embarrassed.

- It's all right, I guess. - You say. - I've learned to deal with things in a healthier way.

- I'm glad to hear that. - He smiles, and then he hesitates for the next second. - And how is your relationship with Wanda?

- We don't have a relationship. - You retorted snidely, your heart racing slightly. But Steve let out a little laugh.

- Bucky told me that you two have found a way to resolve your conflicts. - He said, getting up. - And you two are not fighting anymore.

- That's what you wanted, isn't it? - You say impatiently and Steve frowns at your hostility. - I don't know what else you want us to do.

- What's going on anyway? - he asks tenderly. - You seem upset about something.

You let out a humorless laugh, running your hands through your hair.

- I am great! Fucking spectacular. - You retort impatiently.

- Y/N...

- Can I go now, Rogers? - You interrupt and he sighs, nodding, and you turn, quickly leaving the room.

As you are crossing the hallway, you bump into Wanda. She looks at you in surprise, ready to apologize, but then you are moving forward and kissing her hard.

Wanda sighs, responding as you press her to the wall. But you slow the kiss and let your foreheads rest against each other.

- I'm sorry. - You say breathlessly. - I can't keep doing this.

And then you pull away, and Wanda calls out to you as you walk away, trying to breathe. 

//-//

Wanda catches up with you outside. You are trying not to punch anything, while focusing on your breathing. 

- Why won't you talk to me? - she shouts as she reaches you. - Tell me what's going on.

You let out a dry laugh, and turn sharply and walk toward her.

- Do you want to know what is going on? Great! - you retort angrily. - This is all happening because of you!

Wanda has a confused expression when you stop in front of her. 

- If you had just stayed out of my head, I would be fine! - You accuse angrily, but don't let her interrupt. - And if you'd stayed out of my bed, I wouldn't be in love with you!

You sigh breathlessly as you sit on the floor, your face wet with tears. Wanda is in shock, and remains standing. You feel terrible.

- Damn it, Wanda, I'm sorry! - you mumble, wiping away your tears, trying to remember your breathing exercises. - It's not your fault what happened to me. I'm being an idiot.

- You are in love with me? - She repeats, staring straight ahead without moving. She seems to be talking more to herself than to you. You let out a humorless laugh.

- Yeah, I... I have been for a while actually. - You tell. - I guess I didn't want it to be true.

But then Wanda is kneeling beside you, and she looks at you with watery eyes. 

- You are a stubborn idiot. - She says, laughing lightly, and you frown. But then she moves in and kisses you on the mouth, and you think nothing more of it. When she separates your mouths, she's as breathless as you are. - We'll make it work, okay? I'm in love with you too.

You smile, and then you are hugging each other. It takes a moment for the rest of the team to get to you two.

- Does this mean we will now hear them having sex instead of fighting? - Tony comments wryly, and you watch as Wanda raises her fingers and casts magic at him that pushes him back slightly.

You laugh, letting your happiness replace your anger completely.

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wandaxreader #wandaxyou #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoffxreader #wandamaximoffxreader #wandamaximoffxyou #wanda maximoff x dom!reader #wanda x dom!reader #Attraction and Reaction

[professionalsimpfor2dboys]

“Lucifer’s Scenting” Obey Me Smut #3

Lucifer x Fem! MC

Beginning with Levi x Fem! MC

Introduction: After both Mammon and Levi scent on MC, Lucifer fully plans on going through with his promise of claiming her as his own, but not without a little punishment for not waiting for him to be her first scenter. Lucifer is a sadist after all and he isn’t going to go easy on his human but neither would she.

Warnings: breeding, bondage, spanking, scenting, rough vaginal sex, master kink (despite popular belief, Lucifer will be calling MC master), at first VERY submissive but then VERY dominant Lucifer, pact usage, degradation, blindfolding, pegging, praising, overall SPICY DEMON TIME, tell me if I missed anything. Who said Luci couldn’t be both a total subby sub and dommy dom?

Forewarning: this is LONG like I was actually CONCERNED because about 85% of it is pure SMUT, so be warned and take my apology ☁️

Both Levi and MC had passed out after their excursions much to the other brothers’ chagrin. While the brothers were pissy, they eventually shuffled back to their rooms when it became evident the both of them weren’t coming out to greet the angry mob. Levi had woken up first and, despite reverting back to his embarrassed nature, took it upon himself to wipe down MC’s body with a towel as she slept. She woke up to the feeling of soft caresses on her face and opened her eyes to see Levi’s orange ones staring at her with a utter adoration in them, but he was quick to blush and try to pull away which she didn’t allow. Hooking her arms behind his neck, she pulled him down so their lips met briefly for a gentle good morning kiss before pulling away just enough so their noses were still touching.

Levi’s cheeks were dusted pink as he soaked in the view of her, leaning towards her as if it was instinct as he encaptured her lips with his yet again for a passionate make out session to say what he couldn’t with words. They both pulled away, breathing heavily, as MC pushed aside the demon’s messy bangs that were slightly curled and stuck to his forehead due to sweat.

“I think we should both take a shower,” MC giggled, the first words spoken between them after yesterday having a humorous tone. Levi blushed and nodded, looking down at their entangled bodies as he pulled away his hand he didn’t even know was rested on her bare waist. They both eventually stood up, but staggered against one another after realizing how shaky their legs were which made MC giggle more.

“I-it seems you, uh, p-plowed me more than I t-thought,” Levi stuttered out, his face red from the neck-up as they held each other for support. MC nodded with a smile before pulling away when they were both steadied. “I-I’ll meet you down for breakfast, alright?” He stated, boldly kissing her once more before scurrying off, butt-naked by the way which was only emphasized when she heard a mixed screech that sounded suspiciously like both Mammon and Levi.

MC took her time freshening up in the bathroom, making sure she was squeaky clean after her activities with both Mammon and Levi. When the hot water from the shower head hit her, she let out a sigh of relief as it relaxed her muscles and soothed her sore body. One thought pressed at her mind, both anticipation and worry tagging along with it. How was she supposed to keep up with getting claimed by all the brothers back to back? She had already dealt with two brothers and it left her aching just imagining five more caused a shiver to run down her spine.

Sighing, she went down the steps and towards the dining room while drying her hair with a towel, promptly plopping into her usual seat as all eyes were on her. Scanning her eyes across each of them, it seemed they were all holding their breaths. Choosing to ignore them, she grabbed her fork and stabbed the pancakes Satan had made that morning, bringing it to her mouth. Slowly, she bit into it and it was right at that moment that all Hell broke loose.

“MCCCC! I wanna be next! Please? Pretty please? I’ll obviously be the best out of all my brothers!” Asmo whined, a pout setting on his face as he clasped his hands together.

“Oi! Who are ya to think you’re the best outta us?” Mammon spoke up, pointing a fork towards his younger brother’s direction. “If it’s gonna be anyone it’s me!” He continued before angrily stuffing a piece of sausage into his mouth.

“Puh-lease. I’m the avatar of lust, sweety, I don’t think I know,” Asmo scoffed, waving his hand to brush Mammon off.

Before the avatar of greed could retaliate, Satan interjected. “I would hope that you’d choose me as your next suitor as I’d be the best choice amongst my barbarian brothers,” he stated before taking a small sip of his drink. “Besides, you reek of Mammon and Levi’s scenting, I quite frankly believe mine would suit you better,” he ended, a smug smirk on his face.

“Oh, get you’re head out your ass, Satan,” Belphie retaliated, picking his head up from the pillow he clutched to his chest as he looked at the avatar of wrath with a groggy but daggered glare nonetheless. “It should be either Beel or myself next, the rest of you guys don’t deserve her time,” he scoffed before pressing his face back into his pillow. Beel hummed in agreement, too busy eating to put in a comment.

“Look who’s talking! At least I didn’t kill-“ Satan began, his wrath beginning to show as he angrily stood up. Belphie was quick to react to his words as he rose from his seat as well, a dark look in his eye.

“Enough.” MC found herself saying. She had said it at a normal volume but the single word seemed to hang in the air long than usual as all the brothers froze at her words. “Sit down.” She commanded, her eyes shadowed as Satan and Belphie were quick to comply. The pact marks on the three of them glowing to show its effect. Finally picking up her head, she met the eyes of each of the brothers one by one as they all shivered at the look their human was giving them. “If I need to remind you, I’m human and humans get tired especially if they’re getting fucked by demons nonstop,” she berated them, some of them surprised at her vulgar way of putting it. “If any of you are going to ‘scent’ me it’s on my own terms or I’ll reject all of you,” she concluded, a fiery look in her eye as she looked at the each of them for any disagreement. All the brothers shivered at the sound of “reject” coming from her lips, an unpleasant taste settling in their mouths. Rejection for demons is much more serious than it is for humans, if a demon is to choose someone as their mate and start courting them but get rejected it will be as if a part of them is being ripped away from them causing immense pain and eventual emptiness which is why choosing your prime mate as a demon is very special, an intimate tether that ties the two together, it being especially important for the seven of them with her as they had a pact along with it.

Silence settled over the room as fear pitted in each of the brothers’ stomachs at her warning, Lucifer being the first to speak. “My brothers surely apologize for letting the fact that you’re a human slip their minds, isn’t that correct?” He questioned. The six of them nodded quickly in reply. “Things will continue on your own terms now, dear. I’ll even arrange for your classes to be online for now so you can rest and prepare,” he soothed.

“Why?” She found herself questioning aloud causing the corner of Lucifer’s lip to lift.

“Why I wouldn’t want any misunderstandings of our relationship with you to the rest of RAD seeing that only Mammon and Levi have scented on you thus far. While it may be enough to deter certain demons with certain motives, I’d hate for them to believe that it is only the two of them that have claimed you when it is really all of us,” he explained, a certain glint to his eye that caused MC’s cheeks to start heating up. “Oh, and while your use of rather vulgar language earlier to explain our linking was entertaining, I’d just like to inform you that what we’ve decided to partake in with you is much more...intimate,”

And, with that, MC was like putty in their hands.

-

A week had past since she had told off the brothers and everything had returned back to normal, other than the brothers always having a bit of anticipation lurking in their minds waiting for her to tell them it was their turn while she busied herself with online school work. Both Mammon and Levi made sure to rub their necks against hers in order to consistently scent her everyday, which she allowed as they basked in her attention especially happy if their younger brothers happened to be present as they did so.

It was particularly late one night when she finally finished up all her schoolwork and tasks, beginning to get ready for bed as she snuggled up into her sheets. Her shut-eye was short-lived when a muffled knock sounded from her door before Lucifer’s deep voice tickled her ears from behind it.

“MC? I’m coming in. Are you decent?” He questioned, causing her to quickly sit up.

“Yeah, I’m good!” She called out, Lucifer being quick to enter her room after her reply.

“I’m merely here to check on how you’re adjusting to temporary online school,” he informed, taking a seat beside her on the edge of her bed. He took it upon himself to gently smooth her ruffled hair as she thought of an answer.

“It’s going fine. A lot of work, but I’m getting used to it. Not to mention I get to spend more time here so I enjoy it nonetheless,” she grinned, leaning into his hand subconsciously.

“That’s good,” he chuckled warmly, tucking a strand behind her ear. “I trust my brothers have been giving you the rest you deserve?” He continued, eyebrow raising as he awaited any disagreement so he knew who to punish.

“They’ve been behaved. I can still feel that they’re a bit restless about waiting, but they’ve been perfectly patient,” she nodded with a giggle, both of them not noticing the closing distance between them.

“I’m glad,” Lucifer whispered, at this point the both of them were face to face, noses barely touching as they gazed at each other. He awaited for her to take the initiative, which she noted when she closed the distance between them and locked their lips together. The kiss didn’t involve tongue, but it was passionate and warm nonetheless, too enraptured with the feeling of each other to deepen it further. It seemed to last forever yet also too short, as they both pressed their foreheads against each other, breathing heavily. “Could I take you to my room?” he breathed out, meeting eyes with her. She slowly nodded and lightly laughed when Lucifer picked her up bridal style.

As he carried her to his room, taking long strides, a thought came to her mind which made her let out another laugh. “You know...in the human world when a person carries another to their room like this with the same intent we have they usually just got married,” she commented, watching his reaction. A smile lifted Lucifer’s lips as he looked down at her.

“One day. Sooner if you want, love. The sooner I get to claim you, whether it be through demon, angel, or human ways, the better.” He replied, setting her down on his bed as her face heated up at his reply. Noting her embarrassment, he pressed his lips against hers, hovering over her as she wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him closer. Pulling away, he began peppering kisses down her jaw to her neck and ending at her collarbone before meeting eyes. “Are you sure this is what you want?” He asked softly as he scanned all her features for any indication of doubt.

“Yes...I’m sure,” she breathed out followed by a yelp when Lucifer quickly held onto her waist and flipped them so now she was on top of him. He looked up at her with a lopsided grin, eyes strangely playful.

“Then, like you said before, it’ll be on your own terms,” Lucifer stated, hands on both sides of her waist while his thumb slowly hiked up her camisole. “Please have your way with me...master,” he sighed out causing a bolt of pleasure to run through MC’s spine.

She was quick to react at his request, unbuttoning his shirt as record speed as she dipped down to his chest to suckle and nip at his skin. Trailing downward towards his pelvis, she pressed a gentle kiss at where his v-line began before looking up. Meeting eyes with Lucifer, she was surprised to see such a vulnerable gaze on the eldest brother’s face, his cheeks blushed from anticipation. Running at the mound in his pants, she was surprised to feel how rock-hard he was as he let out a choked groan. He was trying to hold back his voice. Oh, she couldn’t let that happen. “What would you like me to do, Luci~?” She cooed, gently rolling her palm against his erection as he scrunched his eyes shut at the feeling.

“U-Use our pact on me, I want to be completely at your mercy...master,” he pleaded, trying to raise his hips to get more friction, which she smirked at.

“Alright then, if that’s what you want,” MC shrugged before quickly pulling down both his pants and boxers in one fluid motion, making Lucifer gasp as his cock sprang free. Pumping the length of it with both hands, Lucifer’s one hand gripped at the sheets underneath him while the other was pressed against his mouth to quiet his mewls. “Ah ah, put your hands down,” she commanded, Lucifer automatically complying as both their pact marks glowed. His eyes rolled back at the feeling of the pact buzzing through him, the feeling of complete powerlessness towards his master. “No holding back your voice, you’re going to be as loud and noisy as possible when I’m pleasuring you,” she continued her commands, stopping her hand movements which made Lucifer cry out loudly and try to buck his hips into her hand, failing when she pulled her hand away altogether. Grinning when she saw her orders were working, she pressed a sloppy kiss on Lucifer’s lips as he tried to chase her when she pulled away. “Seeing all the precum coming out of you, I think you’re prepped enough, am I right?” She questioned while taking off her clothes agonizingly slow as he watched, mouth watering at the sight. He nodded vigorously. “Use your words,”

“Yes! Yes, I’m ready, master!” Lucifer yelled out, throwing his head back when he felt her tease her entrance with the head of his cock.

“I wonder if your younger brothers can hear just how much of a good boy you’re being for me,” MC commented before slamming herself down on him, resulting in them both crying out loudly as pleasure wrecked through both their bodies. “A-Ah, you feel so good, Luci~” she stuttered out, starting to slowly go up and down the length of him as he held on to her hips. “Such a good boy for me,” she praised, lifting both his hands over his head as she interlocked their lips, this one full of tongue and groans. She dipped down to one of his nipples, suckling on them as he let out rapid cries from his lips. He loved the feeling of how exposed he was with his hands over his head, keeping them there even when MC pulled her hands away.

“Yes! F-Faster, h-harder~!” Lucifer whined which she complied to. Picking up the pace, she bounced on top of him, grinding against him every once and a while as the room filled with sounds of slapping skin and noisy cries spilling from both their lips. “I-I’m cumming, master! Can I please spill it inside? Please!” He begged, knowing he couldn’t hold it in much longer.

“Do it! Claim my insides, Lucifer!” MC replied, nearing her peak as well. Lucifer met each of her bounces with a thrust of his own as they both chased their highs, both of them coming undone with she harshly bit into his chest. Ecstasy wrecked through them as Lucifer let out a long and loud moan, his bottom half spasming as he spilled his seed inside as she clamped on top of him. Both their eyes had rolled back, MC continuing to lazily bounce on top of him as they both rode out their highs. She promptly fell against his chest, gently licking where she bit him as the both of them breathed heavily. After a few comfortable minutes of silence had past, MC pushed herself up to be face to face with Lucifer. “Hey, Luci...could I...have my way with your ass too?” She asked boldly, watching as his eyes widened for a second before feeling the way he twitched where he was still inside her.

“I suppose you can...” Lucifer drawled out, feeling himself hardening with every passing second. “I do have some, ahem, equipment in my nightstand,” his eyes flitting to the dark wood beside him as MC’s eyes lit up.

“Ooh, you naughty boy~” she teased, promptly raising herself off him before making her way to the drawer.

“A-Ah, don’t get off so fast like that,” he hissed, now being able to see his hardened length and both of their intermingled essences coating it, which he inevitably found attractive. MC hummed in reply, too busy rummaging through the contents of the drawer, allowing Lucifer to have a full view of her ass which he appreciated immensely. Watching her with amused eyes, his eyes followed her movements when she held up a newly bought realistic strap-on and a bottle of lube. Oh jeez, why did she have to choose something so massive, not to mention something he hadn’t built the courage to use on himself just yet.

“Seeing the array of ‘equipment’, as you call it, I assume pleasuring yourself through the backdoor isn’t new to you?” She giggled, raising an eyebrow as she looked at the way his mouth was agape while watching her put it on.

“Nothing more than the usual buttplug or vibrator,” Lucifer whispered out, watching as she scooted closer. “And definitely nothing as massive as that,” he continued, hissing suddenly at how cold the lube was when she applied it to his hole.

“Now you know how I feel,” MC teased, rubbing soothing motions on his inner thigh as she prepped him with a finger, more following after that as she continued to stretch him out. He covered his eyes with his forearm at the feeling, breathing out slowly as his body relaxed from her gentle touch. “I’ll be gentle,” she assured, pressing gentle kisses over his thighs but tilting her head to the side when she saw the turmoil in his eyes. “Would you rather not?” She asked softly, stopping her touches as she looked at him, awaiting his reply patiently.

“N-no...that’s not it,” he mumbled out, the way he was acting now was in stark contrast of how he usually was, so she was enjoying it. He was just so cute. “What if I don’t want you to be gentle...” he trailed off, averting his gaze and trying his best to ignore the painful need for the feeling of being full as well as release.

MC giggled, pressing a brief kiss on his lips as he made eye contact with her again. “Just direct me how you want it like we did before, okay?” She responded. He nodded, cueing her to start her caresses again. “Okay, I’ll need you to get on your knees,” she directed, him quickly complying as he did so, holding himself up with his elbows as he lifted his ass into the air. Anticipation and excitement surged through Lucifer’s body as MC pulled her fingers away when she felt he was prepped enough. Squeezing a generous amount of lube on her hand, she applied it to the strap-on then positioned herself at his entrance. As MC gently began to push it inside, Lucifer gripped at the pillows underneath him at the mix of pain and pleasure of feeling stretched. Taking a couple seconds to sheathe the whole length of it inside him, she stopped her movements once it was complete and waited for him to adjust as quiet sighs left his mouth.

Lucifer was quick to adapt, beginning to rock himself back against it in desperate need for her to move. “Please...move,” he pleaded, continuing his motions before MC stopped him with her hands on his hips. Before he could protest the lack of movement, she slowly began to thrust deeply into him, making him let out a low groan as his head fell forward. Wanting to see his face, she pulled at his hair to raise his head up resulting in a whine to spill out his mouth at the feeling. She reveled in the sight of his lidded eyes and blushed cheeks, mouth agape from ecstasy as she continued to rut into him. Quickening the speed, more noises spilled from Lucifer’s mouth as MC began visibly sweating, with both Levi and Lucifer she realized this was a lot more work than she realized but she enjoyed the reward of hearing their voices from it. Encasing Lucifer’s cock with her fist, she pumped it in rhythm with her thrusts, noting that he was close when she felt it twitch in her hand. He was reveling in all the stimulation, his arms had long gave out on him resulting in his cheek being pressed against the mattress as he moved in tune with every snap of MC’s hips, the bed creaking underneath them, he was pleasantly surprised that someone as frail as her could claim him so well. MC completely pulled herself out of him, barely allowing him to whine at the loss of fullness, before ramming the full length back in all at once, successfully pounding into his prostate in one fluid motion as well as causing him to come undone. A string of loud mewls, curses, and her name mingled in between, spilled out his mouth along with a bit of drool as he came all over his stomach and the sheets, finishing so hard some of it even ending up on his face.

MC pulled out of him slowly, setting the strap-on aside as she gently laid him down on the bed. She started to wipe him off, cooing words of praise as she did so. He watched her with a glinted gaze, he was so soft when he was with her. Sitting up halfway, he pulled her in for a passionate kiss after she had cleaned it up. Laying on his chest, she looked up at him as he smoothed her hair. “You did very well, master,” he teased with a chuckle as her face heated up. She averted her gaze in an embarrassed manner but Lucifer was quick to pull her face up by her chin as he kissed her forehead. “I love you, MC. Endlessly and irrevocably so,” he stated, his voice deep and warm as he looked at her with such an intimate gaze that she knew she mirrored as well.

“I love you too, Lucifer,” she replied, bringing a hand to his cheek. She could see the endless love in Lucifer’s eyes, but there was something else there as well, a look that indicated he had a plan from the beginning.

“I love you so much that I can’t help but be a little irked that I wasn’t your first scenter, especially since it ended up being Mammon out of all my younger brothers,” he tsked, red eyes boring into hers.

“Hey! Mammon is great,” she defended the second-born which made Lucifer lift an eyebrow.

“Hm? Is my dearest human really defending someone else while we’re currently entangled with one another?” Lucifer questioned. Before she could reply, he had her wrists pinned against the bed as he hovered over her. “While I thoroughly enjoyed what we did prior, I do believe my little one needs a little...punishment,” he whispered into her ear before gently licking the lobe. She shivered at the feeling, already feeling aroused at the contrast from how he was before to now. He continued leaving nips and marks against her skin, swirling his tongue around her breasts before flipping her onto her stomach to trail more kisses down her spine. She was too lost in bliss to notice the handcuffs Lucifer had placed on each of her wrists, only realizing when she heard the multiple clicks of them locking onto the bed frame.

“What are you doing-ah!” MC cried out when Lucifer began leaving soft kisses starting from her ankle and up. He gave a special amount of attention to her inner thighs as she let out quiet pants, but that was quick to turn into a yelp when he bit into the soft skin harshly, leaving a prominent mark of where his teeth once were.

“Merely teaching my darling a lesson,” Lucifer purred, before lacing a satin blindfold around MC’s eyes. “Red, yellow, green, okay?” He reassured, placing a chaste kiss on the nape of her neck as she nodded. He smiled at her warmly before pulling an item from his bedside drawer, running it up her leg and stopping to press it against her sex. It was the irrefutable feeling of cold leather against her heat that made her hiss, reminding her of his gloves he seldom took off except for this moment. “Now, I believe eight hits from the rider’s crop will suffice,” he whispered lowly into her ear as she shivered from anticipation. “One for being too much of a slut to be a good girl and wait for me to be your first scenter, especially since it ended up being the second eldest out of all people,” he stated, quickly followed by the loud smack of leather hitting her ass before he slowly rubbed circles on the blooming red area. “Two for making it so I had to choose to allow Levi, the third eldest, to be your second,” he continued, hitting the other side this time as she jolted, feeling herself getting wetter by the second. “Three, four, five, and six for when my remaining brothers claim you while I have to just sit back and allow them,” the back to back hits causing her to call out his name. “Seven for those oh so innocent touches Simeon gives you that both him and I know isn’t the case,” his voice had turned into a growl as he was reminded of it. “And eight for those bedroom eyes you always seem to give that insufferable sorcerer from across the room,” he finished with a final stinging smack, following it with a hand soothing her red skin paired with kisses. “Is my master still good to continue?” He teased lifting off her blindfold to see her teary-eyed state, licking his lips at the sight.

“Yes...please,” she pleaded, sticking her ass up in the air desperately as he chuckled. He was quick to place both his hands on her hips, positioning his painfully erect tip at her entrance.

“My master is such a good slut for my cock, isn’t that right?” Lucifer mocked, watching as she tried to push herself against him but to no avail.

“Yes, yes, I am. Lucifer, please!” MC begged. Satisfied, the avatar of pride thrust the whole length of his dick inside her as they both groaned at the feeling.

“This angle is...!” He choked out in between quickening thrusts as MC couldn’t get words to leave her mouth, only high-pitched whines. Keeping one hand pressed against her hip, the other groped at her ass and trailed up her spine as watched his shaft disappear inside her, the sight resulting in him to quicken at an impossible pace. The bed creaked and slammed against the bedroom wall as the handcuffs clacked against itself. “Yeah? Are you enjoying being taken by me so roughly, love? You’re mine, got it? No matter who else scents you, you’ll always be mine,” Lucifer growled as he reveled in the way she tightened around him due to his words and just how loud the both of them were being, his brothers could hear him claiming her without a doubt. When he felt her tighten yet again he pounded into her harder to chase his own high that he knew was so near. “Are you going to cum? Okay then do it with me. Come on, master, clamp around my cock while I paint your insides,” he yelled before the tiny thread holding them back snapped and they both came down hard. Lucifer bit into her shoulder to muffle his sounds while she spasmed underneath him before collapsing against the bed.

Pulling out of her, Lucifer was quick to unlock the handcuffs around her wrist and gently rub the slight red marks that appeared before falling down beside her. He scooped her up into his arms and proceeded to rub his neck against hers to fully scent her. “You did so well, darling,” he praised, leaving kisses as he continued his actions. MC hummed in reply, too tired to reply in words as her eyes began to flutter shut. “I love you, MC,” he whispered, fully planning on lovingly watching her sleep as he continued his scenting.

Just as she was about to go to dreamland, she mustered up enough energy to say: “I love you too,” and Lucifer was hers infinitely.

thank you for getting this far into this LONG ASS piece! I’ve been genuinely annoyed and worried about how long this ended up but I also couldn’t get myself to shorten it so here it is! I hope you enjoyed this pure filth! oh & I’m sorry to those that have to scroll through this on their dash haha ☁️

#obey me #demon brothers #obey me fandom #obey me shall we date #obey me x mc #obey me mc #otome game #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x mc #fem!mc #obey me smut #obey me fanfiction #obey me fanfic #lucifer x reader #lucifer x mc #obey me scenting #obey me headcanons #obey me claiming #obey me! one master to rule them all #smut #obey me fluff #part 3

[hes-writer]

The Tarnish Series - Complete

Summary: y/n finds a letter that isn’t meant for her

Warnings: ANGST, mentions of vomiting and nausea, mentions of implied smut, mentions of drunk driving, angst in the beginning, angst in the middle, angst near the end, time skip of 2.5 years and slight fluff

Word Count: 32.3k words

A/N: a repost of my collab with @devilinbetweenthesheet-s​ so you can find all the series parts in one post! p.s the word ‘thought’ was used 72 times

DISCLAIMER: this is not an accurate description of who Harry/Camille are in real life. this is purely fictional for the purpose of entertainment. 

It was one of those days where Y/N had a sudden itching in her body to clean. Not just her closet, or her and Harry’s room--but the entire fricking house. The size of their shared home was ridiculous. There were many times when Y/N suggested moving into a smaller home, a cozy house with just enough rooms to hold them and an unexpected guest for the rest of their nights. It led to numerous fights about how Harry felt like she was dictating how to spend his hard-earned money, but they all ended in mushy hugs and soft-spoken apologies.

Y/N learned how to wake up in an empty house. The sudden chill raised goosebumps on her skin as she walked into the home studio Harry had installed a few months after buying the mansion. He felt as though he would be more productive knowing that he didn’t have to travel when inspiration struck. Harry was a bit private with the room, opting to not have anyone else in there unless he was present; not even Y/N. She understood that he needed something that was just for him. Living in the spotlight surely strips an individual out of their humanity and presented in a cookie-cutter way as if he was perfect. All his childhood memories were simply origin stories--a life he once lived before it changed forever. Now, he was Harry Styles the singer/songwriter, actor, host, and situational comedian.

Despite the voice at the back of her head practically screaming at her to not enter, Y/N was stubborn enough to ignore it. It was the last room she had yet to clean and she wanted to feel accomplished knowing that she was productive today. Y/N hummed mindlessly, twisting the knob before pushing it open. The lights flickered on to dim lighting, the clear glass reflecting a subdued figure of her as the glowing bulbs highlighted the expensive instruments littering the room.

Y/N puffed her cheeks out as she inspected the space. It wasn’t as messy as she had expected, only a few crumpled pieces of paper probably thrown out of frustration beside the trash can, the couch and the mechanic board. She rolled her eyes at Harry’s tendency to not clean up, especially after scratching ideas that weren’t good enough. He didn't want to give those a second thought.

As she approached the coffee table in front of the sofa, Y/N couldn’t help but notice one of the many leather-bound journals that Harry kept to scribble his thoughts and ideas into. A sharp corner of a crisp envelope was buried beneath it.

My love.

Y/N raised her brow at the cursive lettering on the back, assuming that it was her for her. She should have known better when she caught sight of the stamp at the left-hand corner, ready to be mailed but her excitement overshadowed the looming truth, gently raising the flap to pull the handwritten letter out.

My love,

    I hope you find this letter well. I apologize for acting like such an old man, sending a letter by post instead of living in the modern age of instant messaging.

She chuckled at the words Harry wrote. He really did have an interesting sense of humour.

    First of all, I’d like to thank you for sticking with me throughout our relationship. I know that we’ve had our ups and downs but I wouldn’t have anyone to spend it with aside from you, my love. I’m away too much—I know. I leave for work to see the world, to see the fans while sharing them a piece of myself. But I could never forget giving a piece of myself to you. You absolutely have my whole heart in the palm of your hands’.

Y/N blushed at his confession. She felt a little guilty for reading without his explicit permission but there was no doubt in her head that he was getting the best treatment as soon as he walks through the front door. Y/N couldn’t believe how lucky she was for finding a man like Harry willing to be so open and vulnerable with his feelings.

    The times at the cafe where we read together, sipping on our coffees and I’d catch your eyes staring at me.

She sighed dreamily, picturing his forest green eyes in her head. The intensity that he wore whenever he observed made a flush appear on her cheeks and butterflies to go haywire in her stomach. It was what they had done during his break. Starting a book club with him made the actual book interesting because he read to her in the softest voice and asked her what she thought when a character seemingly has done something out of the blue.

    The Beachwood Cafe will always have a special place in my heart.

That was the moment when anxiety struck her like a bolt of lightning; quick to change the enchanted feeling in her heart and replacing it with fear. Harry talked about the cafe with such adoration that Y/N requested for him to bring her there one day. They haven’t done so yet.

Y/N bit her lip nervously, gnawing at the skin despite applying lip scrub on it the night prior. The organ in her chest pounded with each syllable sticking to her tongue as she silently whispered along. Hands shaking with passing seconds, Y/N almost did not want to let her eyes drift to the bottom of the page, fearing that what she feared would stare at her straight in the face.

    I’m finally ready to face my fears of telling her that our relationship isn’t working out. I know that we have both been wanting it to be just us for a while.

She repeated the statement over and over, trying to make sense of who he was talking about. Was it their relationship? It couldn’t be because that would mean that Harry was being unfaithful. Was he cheating on her? Y/N’s mind was dizzy with thoughts being fired back and forth. The impulsive side of her was dead set on confronting Harry about this letter but the logical pair wanted to reach the end of the letter before making an assumption. She couldn’t just start a fight based on a misunderstanding; that was one of the things that Harry hated about his exes. They were too easily manipulated by the media to immediately doubt him when the tiniest rumour rose. But this letter was written right from Harry’s hand, his pen lying innocently on the table beside the journal.

    You're the love of my life, Camille. I promise I'll end it with Y/N soon. We're meant to be, I truly believe it. I love you so much.

Petrified. If there was one word to describe the lump building in her throat and the churning of her stomach going awry; it was petrified. The sinking feeling as if her esophagus was stretched to its extent, swallowing a chunk of realization down her throat to the pit of her stomach swelling in nausea and nervousness.

Four years, Harry and Y/N have been together. There was no doubt in her mind that she loves him dearly, dreaming of a life that they would share in the future. He wanted it with someone else. He was building it with someone else. Y/N released a sob from her soft lips, her breath hitching as she tried to calm down. Talk to him first, she reminded herself. But what was there to talk about? Y/N had evidence in her hand that he was still speaking to Camille (Did he even stop?). That Harry was going to leave her, that he was cheating on Y/N.

Y/N had a plan in case this happened to her. She has watched way too many movies and snickered at the way the character always seemed to let the news of a cheating partner break their whole being. And she would like to apologize to them right now because she understood exactly the type of weight smashed unto her shoulders; too heavy to lift up by herself and it seemed as if she was crushed, watching Harry walk away from them; from her.

The words appeared to jump out of the page, especially her name. Camille. Written so prettily as if Harry took the time to pen her name with such carefulness and design. Y/N wanted to projectile vomit from her discovery but she couldn’t leave a mess in his fancy studio. And God, she hated herself right now for thinking about how Harry would react when her world was crumbling around her.

    I’m leaving Y/N. We can finally be together and I wouldn’t have to worry about getting caught, Camille. I’m sorry that it’s taken me such a long time. I’ve kept you waiting for me but your patience is something that I greatly appreciate.

With her heart rate picking up, Y/N’s hand shook as she struggled to fold the letter properly as if she never saw it. One glance at the paper showed dotted streaks of wetness and only then did she realize the tears lathering her cheeks. Her cornea stung slightly, sensitive to the air as she blinked hard to will her tears back in. How long has this been going on?

“Y/N!?” Harry’s husky shout of her name boomed from the entrance. The large interior reverberating his voice, yet she failed to hear.

Harry quickly walked to the studio to retrieve the letter he was supposed to mail out today before he came home. Unfortunately, he forgot it in the midst of rushing after a slow-session of love-making with Y/N between the sheets early this morning.

Y/N did not know who’s heartbeat was thumping in her ears; hers or Harry. His lids peeled back to showcase surprise and horror plastered on his lips in the shape of an ‘o’. Harry could only hope that Y/N hadn’t gotten too far in reading the private letter. However, the way she rejected to meet his gaze after catching the guilty expression of his features; it was too late.

“Baby, please,” He whispered, the humming of the mechanic board switched on from last night’s session. Y/N shook her head, refusing to hear a bullshit apology spewing out of his mouth in a word vomit of ‘sorry’s’ and ‘i didn’t mean to’ because if he didn’t, why did he do it in the first place?

She walked past him, flinching as her shoulder brushed his and a gasp fell out of her mouth. Y/N didn’t know what to do but she knew that she wasn't to be surrounded by the one person who she thought would never hurt her. Long strides led her to the bedroom where she swiftly grabbed a duffel bag hidden away in the corners of the closet to pack a few items.

Harry stared at the piece of paper gracefully wisping against the air to fall on the ground. It was crumpled slightly on where Y/N held it. Tear stains blotted some of the ink, causing it to bleed through. Did he feel guilty? Of course, he did. Harry felt terrible that Y/N had to find out this way, but he cannot lie that he felt relieved because it’s finally over.

He walked to the seating area just after the entryway to the main door. He stood in the middle of the room with the letter tucked away properly in the envelope. Harry guessed that he didn’t have to mail this anymore. He heard her before he saw her, huffing slightly from the heavy bag on her shoulder. Sniffles scrunching up her nose like a cute bunny.

“Y/N, I’m--,” Harry reached out to her, not knowing why he did but seeing her struggle was never a sight he wanted to see.

Y/N stuck the palm of her hand out to him, pausing him in his footsteps, “I never want to see you again. Don’t contact me.”

The shiver crawling up his spine was something that he would never admit. Fear was picking away at his insides but he won’t let it show. Not when Harry was the one that insinuated it in the first place. And he won’t lie, his ego was as bruised as a ripe peach because annoyance immediately filled his body right after.

“Thank God,” He rolled his eyes upwards, placing his hands on his hips, “Took you long enough to realize that I don’t want you around anymore,” The moment the words leave his lips, Harry regretted even thinking about them. It wasn’t exactly the whole truth. He still cared for and he still wanted her around--just not in the way he used to. Maybe they could even be friends but he fucked up that chance when he decided to speak like an asshole to her, especially when he could practically see Y/N holding on to her last thread of not letting the tears fall in front of him.

His ego clawed at his muscled chest, exacerbating everything when he continued, "I'm not in love with you. Don't think I ever was. You're nothing compared to her and you know it. Can't believe I ever dated you,”

Y/N was trying to process his words on top of the emotions that were swirling inside of her. She felt as though her mind was about to explode. It was overwhelming. All these feelings and new information confusing her to the point where she was rendered speechless because didn’t Harry just tell her that he loved her last night? And weren’t they talking about starting a family last Christmas in his childhood home? Anne had even dropped the ‘baby’ bomb during dinner to which Harry blushed and stuttered his words over. Memories flashed before her, yet the only thing that came out of her mouth was a dreary, flat question of, “How long?”

“A year,’

Y/N knew that she had opened a can of worms ready to plague every happy memory she shared with him because a year ago, Harry and she were celebrating their third year together in Italy. A year ago, he promised to stay by her side ‘forever, until the end of time’. Exactly twelve months ago did Harry slow dance with Y/N at a friend’s wedding, drunk off his ass but coherent enough to mumble, ‘Want you to be my wife, Y/N,’ in her ear.

Harry was remorsing it more and more with every word that came out of his mouth. Though, he could not stop because he wanted to get the last word before she left.

“Y’know when I said I wanted a family with you? I lied. I felt sorry for you. No one else is going to want you anyway, so I thought I might try.” He was close to tears himself, his lip pursing tightly because all he ever wanted was a family with her. They had spent so many nights planning where to live if kids came up in the future. Harry can’t give up his facade now, not when suddenly apologizing will make him look like a jerk and an asshole.

“She's pretty y’know? Could’ve never have lived up to that. . . Camille, she's someone I'd want a family with. I'd marry her because she's worthy of me. Who are you in comparison?"

Who was she? Who was Y/N without Harry? Her life was centered around the one man she thought would stick around until her skin wrinkled in old age. Until her voice withered with a shaky plead. Until her arms felt too weak lift and so they had to settled for a simple graze on the hand.

Her shoulders slouched with emotional exertion. She didn’t even notice her fingernails digging into her skin as she pondered over her next words. Staring at him with a wilting confidence as he breathed heavily, daring her to talk back at him. To answer his difficult question fully knowing that Y/N didn’t know the answer to it and Harry has no problem taking full advantage of the way he was put on a pedestal in this relationship with her.

Y/N was trying her hardest to be strong. No way was she going to let Harry see her cry. Harry who has seen her cry many times before due to serious reasons and silly breakdowns because the book she had been reading didn’t end the way she wanted it to. And this relationship wasn’t progressing like how she had envisioned it to.

He was blatantly describing how much he did not appreciate her. Putting her down by attacking her with dreams that she had discussed with him because it was the easiest way for him to dispose of the guilt and sorrow he would’ve been feeling otherwise. Making it seem like it was her fault for not being enough for him when she has always been a match for him. Y/N knew that she was worth something and Harry not seeing how valuable she is doesn’t mean she had lost the ability to see herself as someone worth loving.

Y/N held his gaze, memorizing every speck of gold litter on his irises as she took off her engagement ring, throwing the jewellery at him without a second thought. In a rush of confidence, Y/N raised her arm to retreat behind her and shoot forward with a slapping sound as her palm met his cheek. If Harry taught her anything during their relationship, it would be to ‘treat people with kindness’ and that included herself.

She staggered a few steps back, watching as he stayed unmoving, his cheek reddening with a handprint. Shaking her head, Y/N aimed for the exit, opening the door to leave.

“Wait!”

She was only human to admit that that one word sparkled the light of hope within her. Y/N turned around, gripping the door handle.

“I feel guilty, my love. Please don’t leave, let’s talk about this properly,”

“I’m sorry you feel that way but you’re a liar for making me think that this relationship wasn’t over a year ago when you started cheating on me with her. You’re a coward for not telling me that your feelings have changed and an arrogant son of a bitch to not admit that you’re sorry,” It was her turn to speak now and it was best if Harry stayed put and listened. Perhaps it would even be the last time that he shared this close distance with her.

“I can see it in your eyes, H. I know you. You don’t mean it when you say you didn’t love me because I felt it and you showed me. I just don’t understand why you couldn’t tell me when—” Y/N suddenly clutched her stomach, cupping her hand over her mouth.

Harry’s body moved before he could even think, reaching his arms to steady her as she stumbled slightly. The hinge of the door creaked as she used the momentum to stabilize herself and push him away from her. She coughed harshly, piercing his ears as the dreadful sound scratched her throat. Harry was scared because Y/N wouldn’t let him touch her.

Y/N gagged, racing to the kitchen sink to empty her stomach. Retching sounds filled the otherwise quiet home as Y/N held her hair away from her face. Harry offered to thread his fingers through but she shook her head. He backed away.

Hushed coughs dripped past her lips, her body slouched and panting over the sink.

“Love? Are you okay?” Harry remained his distance, following her body in case she fell. The furrow in his brow warmed Y/N’s heart but she soon realized that caring was in his nature.

The refrigerator door opened, Y/N grabbed a bottle of water, twisting the cap open and putting the opening against her mouth. “Don't touch me. I don’t want you near me. I never want to see you again,” She slammed the half-drunk bottle on the counter, not caring if the water spilled; it’s his mess now.

Harry followed her like a lost puppy, “Where are you going? You can't go out in that state,"

Y/N ignored him, opting to crouch down to pick up the duffle bag she had dropped with a searing glare directed to him.

"Please wait, stay here. You're sick. Y’can't go out, love,”

At the sound of the word ‘love’ leaving his lips, Y/N shuddered. All she can remember was reading the letter addressed to someone else when all this time she thought it was reserved for her. She turned around, gasping in surprise when he abruptly stopped in front of her. Harry’s hands wrapped around her waist to prevent Y/N from falling backwards.

Upon inspection, Harry could see that Y/N was paler than usual. Her eyes decked out with glossiness and he wasn’t sure if it was from the tears she had managed to hold back or from the recent sickness. She pushed him away harshly, heaving all her strength to create distance between them.

“No,” Y/N spoke with grit, “You wanted to leave, right? I’ll make it easier for you—I’m gonna leave first.” Her clumsy nature decided to act up, causing her to stumble down the short steps of the door to the walkway. Harry caught Y/N by the forearm.

Y/N shrugged his warm hand off of her, “Get away from me!” Her shrill voice pierced a knife in his chest. Harry’s lips began to quiver because she has never pushed him away before.

“You'll never speak to me again?"

The door slammed in front of his face in response.

“Hmm, I guess not.”

The driveway is littered by the sound of her engine starting, then driving away. Now, Harry’s alone in the spotless house that Y/N had cleaned all day. He sat on the sofa, fiddling with the ring that Y/N had taken off. He had not let himself fully immerse in the gravity of how much he had hurt Y/N yet. He was about to--but one ring of his phone distracted him.

Harry smiled at the caller ID, swiping his thumb to answer.

“Hi, my love.”

When the relationship ended, Y/N imagined being bed-ridden. A lack of motivation to do anything casual such as standing. Watching the television seemed to be a task that required all of her energy and full-attention to be able to understand the subtitles on the screen. Her friends would knock continuously on her door to be met with no response because she was asleep or Y/N couldn’t be bothered with pitiful conversation asking her if she was okay. She would be too tempted to ask how Harry was doing when she could easily pull out her phone and search his name in a few quick taps. These used to be easy; as easy as breathing and loving Harry was easier than loving herself.

How was he doing? Y/N hoped that Harry was regretting his actions. She was yearning for the vibration of her phone to restart her heart like an AED stuck to her chest, sending her pulses to remember that they were not what they used to be. Or maybe the snippy ringtone Y/N had set specifically for him and only him would ring through the air as she wallowed in a burrito blanket. Frankly too emotionally worn out to even move an inch as she watched her phone face down on the bedside table of her new apartment.

Life doesn’t wait until Y/N is capable of being back on her feet before thundering down with the foundations of living. Five days into the breakup did she realize that the money she had saved up would be spent faster than she can replace it if she stayed any longer at the hotel near the heart of downtown. It was a spur of the moment decision to ‘treat herself’; she thought she deserved it after being called names and thrown aside like a used toy. And on the fifth day, she was on the lookout for places to live in as she adjusted to her new life without Harry.

It wasn’t like Y/N was completely dependent on him. She had a well-paying job; just not as good as his. And she could afford a nice apartment, just not as nice as his mansion. Nor did it have the same toasty feeling that enveloped her when she walked through the doors. Y/N told herself that she would give it a few months; that maybe it was just the change in setting that misplaced every bone in her body because everything she did felt off. Deep down, Y/N knew that things weren’t the same without him. She could either live a life reminiscing how she--they--used to do things or she could change and adapt to this ball thrown at her.

The decision was in her hands, yet she hesitated with every gambling thought crossing her mind. On one hand, she was used to a routine. It was a routine that never got boring to her, solely because Harry found a way to make things interesting; refreshing. On the other, Y/N would be in a never-ending comparison of how much she missed him or pat her shoulders because she was able to compromise the old parts of her that existed when Harry was around and to integrate it with a new version that was wary of anybody getting close to her.

The challenge was not easy when the media got hold of the news. It seemed as if everywhere Y/N went---mixed reactions and judgement attacked her with doe eyes offering the best of luck or disgusted snickers telling that she deserved it and that they--Camille and Harry--were perfect for each other. But when Y/N quite literally was carrying a piece of him and her inside her stomach did she step up to what she had to become to raise her baby.

It seemed like yesterday when Y/N stared at her reflection in the en-suite bathroom of Harry’s home, pinching at a subtle layer of fat that she was sure wasn’t there a few days ago. Bloated cheeks that added a fullness to her face were substituted as the result of a bright smile plastered on her face because she Harry had pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead before she left for work that day. The sudden aversion to fragrant foods she absolutely adored flew right over her head and excused as a bad batch.

And the most painful memory was the day Harry and Y/N’s relationship ended. The beginning of something new, something beautiful was right under their noses. Y/N wondered what could have happened if she didn’t find the letter. When the symptoms of pregnancy became more obvious each day; would Harry notice the change in her physique? The crinkle of her nose when met with a sandwich containing pickles that she used to love?

Y/N couldn’t help but envision holding the stick with a tiny ‘+’ pixelated by dark colours. Sitting on the closed toilet seat as she contemplated delivering the news to him in the early hours of the morning after she was awoken by a flush of morning sickness. Y/N daydreamed about watching his sleeping face smooth out of any lines as he dreamed peacefully and wondered if this was still a part of what he wanted with her. Maybe she would jostle him gently, rousing him with a poke as she kneeled on his side of the bed, flailing the pregnancy test between her fingers until he blinked the sleep out of his waterline. Harry would present her a doozy smile before realizing what she held--to which he would sit up faster than he had ever done, gazing at her with a pleading stare. For Y/N to confirm that yes, she was pregnant. Yes, they were going to have a baby and yes, Harry was going to be a father. A little family in the works.

But that daydream was reeled in like a fishing hook in grave waters as reality grounded her. She was apparently two months into her pregnancy when Y/N had mistaken the sickness as an inevitable reaction to finding out his infidelity. Hearing him say the term of endearment as if he had not used it with another person made Y/N want to grab him by the shoulders to hold a steady contact, jostling him until answers spilled out of his mouth. Answers that Y/N deemed justifiable but was there ever a good excuse for cheating? She wanted to strip him out of the apologies filling his mouth and get straight to the question of why he had done it. But even then, Y/N knew that there was no way she was going to be satisfied with his answers. It was just a matter of her accepting that the idea of ‘what could have been’ would live inside her head because she was the only one that knew about the life inside of her.

Harry had not made an effort to speak to her besides arranging the dates to pick up her things. She had to wear large clothes to hide her growing belly because Y/N wasn’t sure if she even had the right to tell him something so personal anymore. It fit well with the narrative that she was a depressed homebody that craved the touch of his fingertips on her skin, the taste of his lips on her tongue and the weight of his arms around her. Albeit that he was the father, Harry had obviously moved on way before they ended; a little over a year ago now to be precise.

Y/N was almost one-hundred percent sure that Harry had blocked her number. Scratch that, she was certain if the way her messages failed to send were anything to go by. She could handle seeing the handle of ‘read’ on the bottom of a message because at least she’d know that Harry did read it and that he was aware. But watching the encircled, crimson exclamation point appear was just another reminder that he planned to erase four years from his life to start anew.

So what if at four months, Y/N was attending another doctor’s appointment by herself, trying to amount to as little attention as possible? Well, today was the day that she was going to find out the baby’s gender. Her bump was definitely noticeable now and extremely uncomfortable especially sitting on a plastic, grey chair in the waiting room. The device in her hand felt like stone perceiving the icon of blaring red that indicated yet another failed message to the contact previously named ‘My Love’, now to just ‘Harry’.

Y/N: I’m finding out the gender of our baby today

Y/N: I’m hoping for a girl but either way, I just want the baby to be healthy.

“Y/N? Dr. O’Sullivan is ready to see you,” The nurse clad in scrubs walked out with a clipboard gripped in her hands.

Y/N stood up, pausing to retrieve her items. She took a breath before entering the room, catching sight of the doctor in his stereotypical white coat focused on the computer screen that showed her information.

“You know what to do. Good luck today,” The nurse mused, handing her a folded hospital gown to change into as she pointed towards the direction of the room with a little nook to change privately. After struggling a bit with pulling off her top, Y/N tied the strings of the hospital gown.

“Hi, Y/N. How are you today?” He asked, standing up to gather the items he would need. Y/N made herself comfortable on the small bed, the white paper crinkling as her weight shifted.

She sighed deeply, “I’m alright. Really excited, actually,” A grin appeared on her face with just how close she was to find out the gender of the baby, “How about you?”

“Good as always,”

Connor O’Sullivan was the name of the doctor. They met when Y/N was in search of the top-tier family doctor’s around the city and instantly had a connection. He had a trustworthy aura that Y/N deemed acceptable to guide her to a healthy pregnancy. A friendship had definitely blossomed around the doctor-patient boundary but they stayed within their limits. Inside jokes existed but it had never crossed the line. And sure, touches to the shoulder happened once in a while but nothing had escalated further.

Y/N’s baby bump was exposed to the cool room. She shivered when a gloved hand applied the gel on her taut skin. Stretch marks were littering the sides of her tummy. It was itchy and uncomfortable. However, it was tolerable especially after applying a combination of creams and oil to soothe the ache. It was also another reminder that she really was about to become a mother.

“Cold?” Connor teased with an easy smile. Y/N rolled her eyes upwards in response, “You’re the doctor here,”

He chuckled, directing her attention to the small screen beside them. The static fizz of black and white slowly morphing to a more discernible image as he attached the device to her skin, finding the perfect angle to produce a clear picture. The first time Y/N saw her little baby; it was the size of a lemon. The next couple of visits showed progression in their growth; tiny baby feet, stubby legs, and sprouting fingers could be seen on the ultrasound.

They looked more and more like a proper baby now--like the ones one would see in the clinics and Y/N really couldn’t believe that she was about to find out their gender. Y/N couldn’t tell just by inspecting the picture because of her lack of expertise.

“You’re having a. . .” Connor began, edging his voice at the last word. He wiggled his brows as Y/N’s eyes widened.

She balled her fists, “Oh, hell. Just spit it out, C,”

“A girl. You’re having a little girl,” He peered up at the patient, watching tears fill the brim of her waterline as she gasped, palming her slightly open mouth.

“A-a girl?” Y/N craned her head to look at the square image, blurrier because of the tears but beautiful nonetheless. “I can’t believe I’m having a girl,”

The doctor wiped the gel off of her tummy with a cloth, switching off the machine as he waited for another reaction out of her. Y/N tossed her legs to the side, putting on her slip-on vans to fully-comprehend the news. “I’m having a baby girl,”

Connor nodded, releasing an ‘oomph’ at a sudden pressure around his middle. Y/N wrapped her arms around him, feeling the tube of his stethoscope dangling against her cheek. Her lashes fluttered, happy tears streaming out. He returned the gesture with soft rubs on her lower back.

“I’m sorry, I’m so emotional,” Y/N pulled away with a huff, using her fingertips to rub the wetness towards her temple. “I’m so happy but I just wished that he was--,” She cut herself off, pursing her lips as an image of Harry carrying their baby appeared in her head.

“I understand, Y/N.” Connor mirrored her distraught expression as he really did feel sorry for Y/N. However, he couldn’t explain the extra twinge in his heart at seeing her frown over a lost love. “You’re doing great on your own,”

She sighed for possibly the tenth time that day, “We both wanted to name her Halo if it’s a girl or Arlo if it’s a boy. It reminds me of what an angel she will be,”

“Wait until she gets older,” Connor joked to lighten the mood, receiving a glimmer from Y/N. “What d’ya say you get changed and I’ll print out this ultrasound, sounds good? A few more months then we can meet baby Halo,”

Halo.

Harry’s relationship with Camille was a dream. It was everything he imagined, maybe even better. The first time they dabbled on getting together was four years ago, before Y/N was even around in his life. There could be so many things right about a relationship and it could still be wrong. Maybe it wasn’t the right place, the right time, or they simply had too many disagreements and flaws that both parties were unwilling to work it to make them--work.

Usually, the third time would be a charm but Harry felt that he and Camille didn’t need a third time. As he said, the past couple of months felt like a dream. He could close his eyes and still feel the soft skin of the woman he loves grazing his fingertips. He couldn’t help but transpire into a new chapter of their love; one where it wasn’t just them tumbling in the sheets. When the squeals in the kitchen while making breakfast were paired with pleads for whipped cream on their pancakes; a child.

Harry was old enough to know what he wanted--at least, he thought he was--and a family was in his books. He finally found a partner who had the same mindset in their future; Camille. At first, he was absolutely sure that Y/N could not be erased from; but her name wasn't set in stone and once he found someone better--no way in hell was he going to let that be a missed opportunity.

__

Camile sighed softly, laying on Harry's bare chest as he pulled the sheets over their clammy bodies. Their orgasms settled in their veins, the rush and panting breaths calming down with each blink of an eye.

With her finger swirling patterns on his skin, Harry stared at the ceiling in hesitant contemplation, “Babe, have you ever thought of getting off the pill?” She paused.

“Uh, sure, but then we would have to use a condom?” Her voice raised at the end in curiosity.

Harry released an awkward chuckle, gently swivelling her body off of him so he could sit up. Reaching over, his fingers found the flip of the light switch that turned the bedside lamp on. He smiled at her appearance, mirroring his stance as she sat on the bed, a sheet clung around her body.

He shook his head, “No, no. No condoms, no pills and, y’know. . .”

The confusion was evident on Camille’s features, “I don’t exactly understand what you’re trying to say, H--,’

“‘M asking if y’wanna try for a baby, love.’

Silence overtook the room. Harry held his breath in his throat, seemingly trying to swallow down the lump that had formed because of her lack of response. She cleared her throat.

“A baby?” Harry nodded with excitement despite the flat tone whipping past her lips. “I--don’t know how to say this, Harry. I’ve never wanted kids.”

His face fell, the words lingering around his head like a flock of birds. The dizzying epiphany rattled his head clear of any other thoughts besides the fact that there was a hole in his book; burnt and toasted with sparks inkling his skin.

“W-why not?” His palms fell flat on the silky sheets, fisting the fabric to keep him settled. “A mini you and a mini-me running around the house. Won’t that be fun, baby? Don’t you want that?”

It almost hurt Camille to see the grin plastered on his face, hopeful eyes practically begging her to change her mind. But she couldn’t.

“Harry, that part will be fun. What won’t be fun is getting huge, morning sickness, weird cravings, hormonal imbalance, the aftermath of labour, the sleepless nights, the puke, the changing diapers, the back pain, the headaches, the fights when they’re older and so much more” Her accent rippled with each explanation rejecting the idea.

Harry huffed, crossing his arms subconsciously to shield himself, “But it’ll be worth it,”

“It won’t be,” Camille scooted closer to him, situating herself on her knees so that she could look into his eyes clearly. “Look, I made up my mind ages ago and I thought you felt the same since you haven’t settled down yet”

“I was jus’ lookin’ for the right person,” His head dipped down, dropping his gaze their intertwined hands. “It’s gonna’ be okay, Cam. We can make it work. We’ll have our own family. We’ll be okay,”

She shook her head in refusal, “It will be okay for you, H.” Harry could feel her hands itching to slip past his. He held her tighter. He didn’t want to lose her. “You can get back to work immediately. I’m a model and it takes time to lose weight. Even when I do--I won’t look the same. It’ll take me months, if not years to even resemble my present body.

“I don’t care how your body looks. You’re still gonna’ look amazing. You think I won’t love you after birthing our little baby?” With brows pressed together, he pouted his lip in curiosity as she rolled her eyes.

Camille sighed exasperatedly, “I don’t want children, Harry. The sooner you understand that the better. It’s MY body. I’ll be carrying the kid around for 9 months. No thank you.” She stood up, stumbling slightly as the sheets tangled around her feet.

He followed suit. His height towered over her as she crouched down to collect the pieces of clothing strewn around haphazardly in a rush to have each other. “But it’ll be MY baby, Cam. OUR baby, don’t you want that?”

Fingernails dug into the skin of her palm, holding her clothes as she spoke, “I don’t, Harry. Why can’t you just accept that?”

In the heat of the moment, Harry couldn’t help but quell the ache in his chest with a memory he thought he had thrown away, “Because Y/N and I planned to have a family. A-and I thought you and I could have one too,”

Camille huffed, keeping her distance. She walked to the bathroom, “Well, maybe you shouldn’t have fucking cheated on her then,”

His fight with Camille left the both of them on edge, barely able to handle the thick tension surrounding the house. Even though she took refuge in the bedroom and Harry wandered to the kitchen to cool off; it was impossible for them to stay in one place without having another argument.

Harry didn’t mean to let the memory slip past his lip. He hated it when he found himself comparing his past relationships to his current one. He felt that there was no need to do so, especially when the point of all of it was to start anew. Harry guessed that his desire to have a family was too powerful to keep his thoughts in check. The ache bubbling in his chest rose to a boil with each rejection that Camille answered with.

It wasn’t like he didn’t respect her decision. He really did. But Harry didn’t know if he was going to be happy being with her without progressing into something more through the years. What he was asking from her is just as difficult as what she was asking from him. Camille didn’t want to have children and Harry didn’t want to not have kids. There was no room for compromise if they both, mutually, wanted to respect each other's' decisions’ to the absolute fullest. However, the chances of him living a content life were zero to none.

And that was how Harry ended up at a bar, alone, at nine o’clock in the evening. They were invited by his friend, Kora, to a birthday celebration. Harry was reaching the limit of his threshold having to fake a smile and a chuckle while saying, “Camille’s feelin’ a bit sick tonight. ‘S just me,”

The thing with this celebration was that Kora was initially Y/N’s friend. He and Kora had become close friends while he was with Y/N and he guessed that that was the reason why he was invited. Although, it made him wonder why one of Y/N’s best friends invited him when she was aware of what happened between them. Surely, there was no way that Kora would invite Y/N, Harry, and Camille to the same crowded space, would she?

The sudden nervousness swirling at the pit of his stomach came with a quick neck as Harry scanned each premise of the bar. It was difficult considering the dim lighting and endless amounts of heads moving against each other. He hoped to see Y/N; just to see how she was doing! But he also felt like puking the alcohol he consumed because--as much as he wanted to admit it or not--he missed her.

After a half-hour of being vigilant, Harry willed himself to relax by the counter. Leaning one elbow on the wood as he spoke to another person regarding his upcoming album.

‘Yeah, yeah. It’s goin’. ‘M really excited for it cause’ I’ve got a lot of inspiration for some reason,” Harry answered with unyielding precision.

“We both know where that came fro--Oh hi! Sorry, H. Gotta check in on, Johnny,”

He rolled his eyes under closed lids, sipping on his drink, eyeing Kora when he heard a quip of Y/N’s name. Harry inconspicuously moved closer to her, making sure that he didn’t catch her attention.

“You’re not here,” Kora yelled with a whine to her tone. Her drunk self was still coherent enough to embark on the bartender to make another drink for her. However, Harry guessed that her senses were obscured with the way she yelled through the phone despite it being held to her ear and the function tapped to ‘speaker’.

“I know. I’m sorry. I promise to make it up to you, Kora,” Y/N’s gentle chuckle rumbled through the speaker, making Harry smile. It was the first time he heard it in a while. He sometimes wondered if he had the right to feel relieved when Harry was the one that blocked her number in the first place.

“It’s my birthday! Why aren’t you here drinking with us?” Kora quietly thanked the bartender.

Harry’s curiosity spiked; why wasn’t Y/N here tonight?

“It’s because I’m pregnant, silly. Can’t really do that when I’ve got a bubba in my tummy,” Both women giggled, Kora, making a sound of acknowledgement, “Ohhh right!“

He really wished that he would have stuck by long enough to hear more of their conversation but Kora’s boyfriend was approaching her and he wasn’t in the mood to discuss anything if he was honest.

She moved on fast, Harry thought. He was definitely sounding like an entitled jerk. Hear him out though; Harry was happy with Camille. Yes, he had been cheating on Y/N for a whole year and yes, she had to find out through a letter but Y/N was pregnant. Did she really move on that quickly?

Despite the guilt gnawing at her for missing her best friend Kora’s birthday, Y/N was also looking forward to getting some sleep. It was a couple of hours after their phone call together when the nauseating tightening of Y/N’s chest woke again and had been for the past three days.

It was a horrible feeling that spread from the confines of her stomach. The bile rising up from her throat that left a burning feeling from the acids that escaped her mouth as she quickly threw the covers away from her legs, running towards the direction of her bathroom where she emptied the remnants of her stomach from last night’s craving of pickles and hot Cheetos. Her chest heaved with exertion as she draped her arms over the white porcelain of the disinfected toilet, hunching over as her stomach seemingly pumped away toxins.

Y/N wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, visibly shuddering as she pointed a finger to flush the toilet. She had a feeling that she won’t be getting any more sleep despite the time being three o’clock in the morning. Halo was insistent on staying up past normal bedtime hours. Y/N sighed, walking lethargically towards the dresser to retrieve her phone before heading to the living room nearby.

Y/N: You up, doc?

The blue loading bar swooped to the right as Y/N sent a message to Connor. She was at the peak of her pregnancy and her due date was occurring within a few weeks. A lot had changed since the day she found out the gender of her baby. Between the emotional trauma of having been broken up with--the hard-hitting fact was that Y/N was pushed into a direction of pregnancy that wasn’t exactly her ideal path. She pretty much preferred the dream-like sequence of having Harry accompanying her to her ultrasounds.

Just as Y/N was about to delve into another imaginary scenario of Harry sending her cute baby onesies that he would absolutely need to purchase for their little one, the humming of her phone pulled her from drowning in pathetic wishes and desires.

Connor: What’s up, Y/N?

She jutted her lips as she typed out a response. Contemplating whether or not to send the message as Y/N’s thumb hovered over the arrow, she paused to wonder why she was feeling so guilty in texting another man months and antecedent her break up with Harry. He was happy with someone else, yet Y/N felt as if her feet were planted in a puddle of sticky glue; unable to move on from the life she built in her head. Although it hurt to admit that Harry only existed in her memories now, reminiscing the spoken words they have discussed was another stab to her already bruised heart.

Y/N: Halo’s keeping me up again..

Connor: Want me to come over?

To keep you company

The reply was instantaneous and she could not deny the flutter of her heart beating subtly despite the extremities it had endured. And Y/N couldn’t help but notice the jitter of her baby bump morphing a plump bulge where Halo had kicked it as if it was a stamp of approval of the man coming over.

It wasn’t the first time that Connor drove to her place at the brink of dawn to keep her company in case the sickness became too much for Y/N to handle. The first time was simply a desperate action because she was rattled by the sudden spike in dizziness and incoherence of her sickness that Y/N wasn’t confident in herself to handle it alone. Times after that were more for his comfort when Connor said that he would ‘rather be safe than sorry’ while he rubbed his palm up and down her back.

Minutes later, a knock on her door sounded, forcing Y/N to haul her plump body to the comfort of the sofa, pausing the rerun of a television show. She waddled towards the entrance, the fit of her pyjama waistband snuggly wrapping around her mid-belly. A stretch of skin exposed between her bottoms and her tank top.

“Hi, thank you for coming,” Y/N greeted shyly, widening the door to let Connor in as he chuckled, toeing off his shoes by the closet door.

He waved her off, “It’s no problem, really,” Connor assisted her back to her couch, aiding her by letting his hands stabilize in the air in case anything happened.

The moment their bottoms hit the cushions did Y/N realize the gravity of the guilt spiralling in her chest. Connor laughed softly, his back resting on the couch with his right arm resting on the top, fingertips barely brushing over her shoulder. He reached over the coffee table to obtain the bowl of freshly popped popcorn, picking one to munch on but not before looking over at Y/N.

“Want some?”

She snapped out of her daze, cheeks heating profusely at being caught blatantly staring at how Connor fit naturally into her home both physically and metaphorically. He couldn’t have appeared at a better time when Y/N not only needed medical assistance and a support group by her side. However, she asked herself if he could be anything more than a friend. She shook her head ‘no’.

“No thanks. I’m quite full,” Y/N pressed a palm to her belly when a kick halted her breath. ‘Okay maybe a little,” She rolled her eyes, scolding Halo. “She’s a hungry one,”

“I’m gonna pop some more popcorn, kay? Be right back,”

Y/N heaved a sigh, watching Connor’s retrieving figure. Her admiration was cut off by the ringing of her phone.

Harry wasn’t so sober when he opened the door to his car. He wasn’t in his right mind either when he unblocked Y/N’s number and tapped on her name, switching the screen as it rang. He threw his head back against the headrest, biting his lip when the dial tone rang and rang.

“Hello?”

Harry’s breath hitched, losing his voice momentarily before his slowed brain caught up to move his tongue.

“Y/N? It’s Harry,” He spoke quietly, “Don’t hang up. Hear me out,” His ears stretched to pick up the click of a dropped call but he didn’t hear any.

“Heard from Kora that y’were pregnant, yeah? And I was wondering, whose is it?” The venom in his voice dripped. His drunken stupor rendered him unable to grasp reality.

“I’m not answering that,” Y/N’s tone was firm and direct. Harry could imagine her pursing her lips inwards.

“Why not? Scared that y’gonna have to admit that everything you put on was an act? How can y’move on so fast and give me shit about it?” The parking lot was filled with cars yet Harry could see that he was the only one currently occupying one. If there was a better metaphor of feeling alone in a crowded place; then he would love to hear it.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Harry? You cheated on me! You slept with another woman while we were together. You loved another woman while we were together. For an entire year, you lied to me and deceived me,”

“Jus’. . .answer the question,” He pinched his nose bridge, a headache pounding from the bottom of his skull.

“How dare you speak to me this way? You have no right calling me up out of nowhere,” Y/N lowered the volume of her voice, “and asking all these ridiculous questions,”

“S’not ridiculous,”

She gave a smile to Connor who entered the room with a bowl of delicious smelling popcorn. Y/N clutched the phone to her chest. Connor situated his body beside her with a glimmering smile, his mouth twitching as he eyed her bump, “Can I talk to her?” A gentle question breezed past his lips, moving closer when Y/N gave him approval.

The man kneeled down on the floor, leaning his head downwards to speak to Halo, “Hey little one, y’gotta be nice to momma, okay?” His fingers waved when her feet kicked out. Connor looked up to Y/N with a proud smile, “Did you see that? She responded!”

____

Harry felt his heart clench as a new voice filled the speakers. His neurons were fried with each thought firing endlessly, “Who’s that?

“Don’t call me again,”

The dial tone rung in his ears, echoing in the quiet space of his Range Rover.

_____

Pressing the power button for a few seconds, the device turned black and was left on the arm of the couch. The excitement in Connor’s voice brought a dreamy smile to Y/N’s face, chewing on some popcorn. The beating of her heart seemed to double at the sight of him being so thrilled with her baby.

“We can’t wait to see you. I bet you’re gorgeous,” Connor dropped his volume to a whisper to prevent Y/N from hearing, ‘’Like your mom,”

Y/N’s relaxed and comfortable state of mind mindlessly worked her hands to thread the hair on top of Connor’s head. Just like she used to do to Harry. Her expression dimmed at the thought, painting a faint simper when Connor looked at her in surprise before shrugging it off, continuing to talk to her bump. She shivered when a warm pair of lips attached to the skin of her stomach. Gentle pressure planting a kiss as Connor said his goodbyes to baby Halo.

“She’s a smart one, that much I can tell,” He confirmed, moulding his body to the lingering shape he had left behind in his previous position. And Y/N was flustered to say that she might have scooched a little closer to his body, snuggling her head at the junction of his shoulder.

“Can I?” She asked, doe eyes raising a question that would allow them to cross the boundary they had limited themselves to. He nodded reflexively as if he was awaiting this moment. Connor took the initiative to pull Y/N closer to him, subconsciously kissing the top of her head. The scent of the woman’s shampoo wafting through his nose and invading his senses in a sweet smell that he would gladly immerse himself to.

It was the most pleasant feeling for Y/N to completely let go of her former worries about starting anew when Connor was as cozy as a heater. He made Y/N feel safe and secure with his body shielding her and his actions hinting at a subdued attraction he hadn’t fully shown to her.

And Connor was proud of himself for not quite literally freaking out when Y/N smothered her face to his chest as time passed and the sun rays filtered through the blinds as she fell asleep. Her words mumbled in a jumbled mess about how she wished that morning sickness wasn’t called morning sickness.

It wasn’t totally accurate, she complained. She thought that it was a misleading name; catfishing perhaps. He had chuckled in response, tracing his fingers up and down her arm and feeling goosebumps rise on her skin.

The orange hue of the bright star painting the sky lighter and lighter until the pitch-black sight morphed into a mixture of shades that could only be described as beautifully grandiose--just like Y/N’s sleeping face when the sun casts a shadow to highlight her nose, scrunching with the slight graze of the back of Connor’s finger rubbing the tip. Or the way the luminescence caressed the apples of her cheeks where her lashes rested, mouth puffing breaths of air as she allowed herself to be vulnerable for the first time in months.

____

A heavy feeling had settled into Harry's chest after Y/N hung up the phone. The new voice he had heard had unmistakably been a man's. Who was he? Was Y/N having that man's baby?

Before he could help it, Harry was seething. He saw red, and if he were in a children's movie there would be steam coming out of his ears right about now. How dare she move on so fast? How could she have a baby with another man so soon? But when he thought about it; Harry couldn't even recall how long it had been since they'd broken up. It made him feel somewhat guilty. He hadn't meant to forget her. It had just happened.

His guilt soon manifested into frustration-- her being pregnant was a constant reminder that she had moved on with another man. Insecurity clawed at his insides- did he really mean that little to her? 'You cheated on her' his conscience pricked, but he brushed away the thought. He hated being reminded of his infidelity to his fiancée.

His defence mechanism kicked in like clockwork, using aggression to shield his insecurities. He opened his messages app and clicked her contact, typing drunkenly.

Harry: 'Your a whore'

'You're*'

'Diid yu cheat on me? I bet youu did'

'Do u sleepp arond a loot?'

'fck u'

He smiled smugly at his phone screen, satisfied with what he had sent her. He shut his phone off, and started his car, ready to drive back home. He knew he was being irresponsible, but between his current girlfriend not wanting a child and his ex being pregnant with one; he couldn't bring himself to care. He drove himself home, only to find a terribly worried Camille waiting for him to arrive.

He glanced at the huge clock on the wall behind her. 1:32 am. He shrugged his shoulders and brushed past her to their bedroom. In his drunken gait, he knocked over a metal tray. The loud 'clang' made him hiss and clutch his temples, a headache pounding in his skull.

Camille sighed and made her way over to him, wrapping her arms around his torso and muttering a "come here, H" Despite his sour mood, he found himself craving affection. What he wouldn't admit was that he didn't crave Camille's affection in particular. He just wanted to be held and feel safe in someone's arms. Anyone's arms. But despite himself, he mumbled, "m'sorry I left like tha'. Should'nt 've spoken to ya that way,"

She nodded, pressing a kiss to his cheek, "It's okay, Harry, you're back home now. C'mon, let's get you changed and then let's sleep."

He bobbed his head up and down, willingly letting her drag him up the stairs to their shared bedroom, "Love ya,” Camille helped him out of his trousers.

She smiled softly, "Love you too, mon Cheri,” He giggled drunkenly at the showcase of her accent.

Harry woke up with a pounding headache, whining as his alarm rang at eight am in the morning. He opened his eyes to see that Camille wasn't in bed with him. His lips fell into a pout because of waking up alone.

There was a note on the bedside table.

'got called in for an emergency meeting for the show next week. be home by 5pm. love you!'

He sighed and reached for the glass of water she had left him. His brows furrowed when he didn't see Ibuprofen next to the water. Y/N left him ibuprofen beside the glass of water. Always. Harry snapped himself out of his daze, reprimanding himself for even thinking about her. Why is he thinking about her?

__

After a hot shower, Harry made his way downstairs to make himself breakfast. 'Eggs and toast', he thought. Placing 2 eggs in water and setting it on the stove before loading the toaster. He looked mindlessly through the drinks in the fridge, settling on 'Organic Orange Juice'. Y/N had introduced him to this particular brand after he had complained that all the others had too much sugar to be 'healthy'.

"This has no added sugar, H," she mentioned, "They sweeten it with honey."

Harry groaned, snapping himself out of the daydream, ashamed for thinking about his ex. Again.

He placed his breakfast on a plate and poured himself a glass of juice, sitting at the dining table alone. He chewed slowly with a mouthful as he unlocked his phone, beginning to go through his notifications.

Camille sent him a text. It was a selfie of her at her meeting, smiling and holding up a peace sign. He mirrored the expression, sending a tet back

Harry:  "stop being so cute"

He clicked the ‘back’ icon.

The second he does, his heart positively skips a beat. Not in a good way, either. Y/N's contact was just below Camille's, suddenly remembering the nasty things he had texted her the previous night.

"Fuck," He whispered under his breath, opening her contact. 'Read' was plastered under the messages he had sent. Y/N had seen them.

____

Connor had left a few hours later because he had morning rounds at the clinic the next day. Y/N had bid him goodbye with a shy kiss to the corner of his mouth,

“Thanks for coming, C,"

He smiled and pulled her into an embrace "Anytime, angel," into her hair. A warmth spread through her chest--one that she hadn’t felt in a long while.

After Connor drove off (with a final wave from his car window, of course), Y/N walked back in to settle on her couch again. Halo kicked a few times as she sat down, making Y/N squirm and giggle.

"Hi, you little goose! What's got you all excited, hm?" She rubbed over the area where Y/N felt the kick. As if, in response to her mother's voice, baby Halo kicked out again, right where Y/N's palm was. "Are you trying to high-five me, precious girl?"

Y/N cooed at her swelling tummy, a huge smile plastered across her face. "Or are ya just excited about Connor coming over to spend time with us? Got a good feeling about him, have you?"

She feels a gentle kick, it was almost as if the baby in her tummy wanted to say 'yes'. Y/Nhummed softly, caressing her tummy, "Me too, angel. I've got a good feeling about him, too."

___

A few minutes later, Y/N reboots her phone her previously switched off phone so that she could see if Connor had texted her. He had.

C: Thanks for letting me spend time with you and Halo tonight. I loved it. I have a  bit of time off on Sunday, do you want to get Pizza?'

Her eyes gleamed, but she hesitated for just a second.  Connor had texted her. But so had Harry. He had sent her five messages, and Y/N wasn't sure if she wanted to see what he had to say.

She wanted to make sure before texting Connor back. Y/N was not sure what she was expecting or hoping for, but what she saw was certainly not it.

Harry: 'Your a whore'

'You're*',

'Diid yu cheat on me? I bet you did

'Do u sleepp arond a loot?'

'fck you'

She felt tears stinging her eyes, cursing at the pregnancy hormones that have gotten her feeling this emotional about drunk texts from her ex. Her body ignited with fury quicker than she realized she could. Y/N doesn't hesitate to click the 'block' button to his contact.

She didn't need a man like him around her or her baby. Or her potential boyfriend.

Y/N: 'Hiya!,'

'it was great having you over, and I'd love to hang out! Down for pizza anytime. Halo loves it too :P'

The reply was instantaneous

C: 'Great!'

'See you Sunday, then! What are your favourite toppings?"

Y/N smiled brightly, finding his curiosity incredibly endearing. She typed back a response, gleaming with joy at the fact that she finally had someone she could rely on.

____

"Fuck. fuck fuck fuck," Harry repeated, clicking the call button to Y/N's contact. He needed to apologize. Desperately. He needed her to know that he didn't mean any of those things; he was just drunk. Not that that was an excuse.

'The number you are trying to reach is not in service', an automated voice said.

Harry groaned in frustration, opening her message contact, typing out;

Harry: "I'm so sorry, I don't know what had gotten into me. I was drunk. I'm very sorry, Y/N xx H."

He took a bite out of his toast before looking back at his screen to see if she had read the message yet. He almost wished he hadn't. Harry’s heart plummeted. His chest constricted as tears stung at the back of his eyes. Throwing up the meal he just scarfed sounded like an option right now.

A flaming red exclamation mark met his startled glance, and his chest heaved as he read,

'Not delivered,'

A writer that cannot write is dead.

When one loses the ability to tell their stories and anecdotes through the mere action of swirling words together to create an imaginable atmosphere of real-world fantasy; they are dead. A writer recovering from the mundane and mediocre way of penning experiences to bounce back into what they used to be is difficult. It is easier to free fall and drown in the depths of despair. The moment thoughts and rumination fog up to form a blurry image of conviction is a warning sign, blaring at the back of their minds and sometimes even in their faces.

Harry is a writer--or, he was. Picking up the pen to style the words lingering in his head used to be as easy as blinking; quick and natural. Now, the words claw at the swell of his throat, trying to spit an adjective to describe the way he felt. It was at the tip of his tongue, waiting to be lathed into existence. It did not matter if his cognition was mingled with various chemicals aimed to be able to feel happiness.

He was sober but he had trouble placing his finger on why it was so strenuous to narrate his feelings throughout the breakup. Being high or drunk was never the answer for him. Weed made him tired and made him have a case of cottonmouth. Harry learned from a young age that he should only ever engage with alcohol if he was in a mindset and setting that catered to increase existing good vibes. He thought that maybe he was in an odd phase of perceiving the opposite, and so he intoxicated himself enough to understand that it didn’t matter if he was soaked head-to-toe in sobriety or whizzed out of his mind by the amber liquid swirling in the glass in his hand. But that wasn’t the circumstance. It also didn’t matter if he was grasping his favourite pen to write--because it was comfortable--or tapping his calloused thumbs against his phone keypad. Hell, it didn’t make a difference when he sat down and prepared his typewriter to indulge in a headspace of vintage songwriting. Maybe that would help.

It didn’t.

He had stories to tell. Everything was laid out in misty overcast yet Harry’s great ideas morphed into gentle mistakes, harsh mistakes and discoveries that had him almost ripping his hair out of the roots of his scalp. When he felt the wave of his ocean-thoughts rise and peek where the sand shifted, his fingers were ready to move and discern for the eyes to see. But with each fritter, he couldn’t seem to get even two paragraphs in to decide that it was utter shit.

Harry was old enough to understand that slumping on the wet sand was a part of life. Sometimes picking up a fistful of grains and throwing them back to the sea was a great way to release frustration. But it seemed like this plunge of his ability to write was a hole of quicksand. He was trying his hardest to displace himself as swiftly as possible but it only made his scenario worse. The muddy sand clung unto his legs like sticky glue, heftier with each effort to leave. He wanted to move on. He wanted to forget everything that occurred in the past four years. Harry wanted to erase Y/N from his life because she wasn’t around anymore to bring those memories back to sparkly existence.

What he needed to do was nestle himself into a certain depth, calmly, in order to pull a limb out and ensure that his progress on the so-called ‘moving on’ did not have any drawbacks. Until then, he cannot possibly create songs that he was well-known for if he wasn’t patient enough.

He wanted so badly to tell his side of the story. Harry craved to think as clearly as he did when he told Y/N about his plan for their future. Admitting to his feelings was a hard route. Sure, he can be vulnerable but it took a great deal of convincing on his part to immerse himself in the deepest parts of his brain to understand why he felt the way he did. He usually had the means of songwriting to help him out but that obviously wasn’t working out that good for him.

___

Harry was packing the rest of Y/N’s things in boxes to be picked up later in the afternoon. He was annoyed at first at how she depended on him to fold her clothes properly instead of doing the bundle of the work herself. But he guessed that she didn’t want to be around him for longer than she had to. To be frank, he also did not want to indulge in what might turn into an argument if they spoke about the reason for their breakup. It was just a bit confusing because he had an urge to still want her around despite their less than likely situation.

Torture. If Harry had one chance to describe the way he felt right now; it was torture. With every nook of Y/N’s side of the closet emptying into brown, cardboard boxes--he physically how much she had integrated her life with his. How much space she took up in his life. How his clothes and her clothes were so interchanged between them that he couldn’t decide if the gray pull-over was actually his or hers. And in a moment of selfishness did he tuck it away for his safe-keeping despite seeing the tag imprinted on the inside; a shop that he hadn’t set foot in so it was a guarantee that it was hers.

Her scent embedded in the thin threads of each fabric wafted to his nose; each with a new wave of memories engulfing his senses as if each piece garnered a specific scent tailored to a specific event. Like her sunflower sundress--it smelled of fresh flowers as if the print was a scratch and sniff that released a fragrance. Or their DIY-ed tie-dye shirt of pastel blue and cotton candy pink. It was a matching piece made out of the cheap dye and a simple white tee but it was theirs. Things like these made Harry want to yell in frustration because every time he thought that he was completely over her-- Y/N appears out of visibly nowhere and towers over him.

Seeing her for the first time in days was a breath of relief. She looked fine. Glowing even, and Harry did not know what to make of it. As sadistic as it sounded, he was expecting dry-stained tears and a birds’ nest of hair trampling her head. Instead, Y/N was dressed for comfort in her baggy jeans and an even looser sweater covering her body. Her lips were drawn in a thin line, giving him a nod in greeting as he gestured to the boxes littering the floor.

Harry offered to help--it was the least he could do. And somehow, silence protruded from the tense atmosphere, begging to be cut by a knife yielded through their voices nipping at each others’ emotions.

“Let go of my damn hand,” Y/N stated, her hard stare could turn Harry into stone. He just wanted her to listen before she left.

He shook his head in denial of her request, tightening his grip further. “No. Listen to me, Y/N,”

“What do you possibly have to say that will change anything between us?”

And maybe it was her fault for assuming that he wanted to fix things. The sliver of hope thinly dressed behind closed lids enabled her to think that maybe he was going to say that he wanted to make things work again. That he had broken up with Camille and he realized what a stupid he had done throwing away everything they built up to for the past four years for an affair that couldn’t quench the thirst of his desire to have a family.

Harry sighed, a shadow of mischievous smirk painted on his lips. But maybe it was Y/N’s sight in deception because she could never see Harry as anything other than sweet and kind Harry incapable of hurting a fly.

“What? I don’t intend to. We’re broken. We’re beyond fixing,”

The hitch in her breath was as sharp as the stare he was searing her with. Forcing her to please understand that this would be their last conversation--if time and fate were on their side. “You’re not something I would take the time to handle,”

“Stop saying shit you don’t mean, Harry” Y/N rolled her eyes in annoyance. His macho act was barely an act and more like a stage curtain easily pushed with a flick of a wrist.

“Things I don’t mean?”

“You heard me,” She crossed her arms over his chest in defence, leaning against the closed trunk. “Say what you will but our love was real. Don’t make me seem like I’m crazy. Don’t tell me that I’m a mistake,” Her voice was filled with confidence because she knew the affection that Harry diffused.

The cradles of his palm at the small of her back when they had to walk past a crowd. The subtle graze of the back of his fingers caressing the bare skin of her arm. Kisses pressed to her temple as she read a novel and swirling fingertips twirling her hair. These were acts of love that happened nearly every day in their relationship. A routine that felt different if it wasn’t done to or with each other.

Exasperatedly, Harry felt the same itching crawling up his spine. His ego ballooning into a delicate size and one more word from Y/N’s lush lips would have him on his hands and knees, begging for her back.

“This, us, was a fuckin’ mistake,” Harry’s accent thunked heavily in her cochlea, practically spitting the words out of his mouth as if they were poisonous. Ringed fingers gesticulated the space between them to emphasize how much of a misunderstanding they truly were. “I should’ve known the second things went further than planned,”

Y/N felt her heart drop to her full stomach. The feeling so nauseating that she instinctively palmed her belly over the fabric to protect her little baby from his harsh words. Even though they weren’t directed towards anyone but Y/N. She didn’t think that their unborn child deserved scrutiny from their own father.

“You don’t mean that, Harry.”

Because how could he? Not when he emulated sincerity through his syrupy voice. Not when he spent hours loving on her tummy and spoke to it like he would if she were pregnant. Especially not when every kiss from him felt like a buzz of electricity coursing through her veins because he was the main distributor of her happiness.

Harry truly was an asshole for making her hope and wonder of what the future held when he was unsure himself. He did want a family. That was a statement in all its truthfulness. What he wasn’t sure about was if he wanted a family with Y/N. He could have a family; kids of his own in his own time. But Y/N didn’t have to necessarily be the mother. So was he besotted with the concept of family and marriage regardless of who it was with?

“But I do,”

The rain started drizzling in frequent spurts, planting a fat droplet on her cheek that could be argued as a tear escaping Y/N’s eye. It hurt a lot to hear that from him. The man of her dreams blatantly denying each sugary word because his plans had changed.

“You’re a goddamn mistake is what you are,’

“Why are you. . .saying all these things to me? Are you trying to hurt me?” The shakiness of Y/N’s tone had Harry swallowing his words down his strep throat.

He shook his head in disagreement, “No, I’m not. ‘M just tryna make you see my side. So you can understand,” His head dipped to the side, softening his tone yet stern as though he was speaking to a child.

And that was one of the reasons why Y/N didn’t believe his all-too stoic demeanour about her. Harry was great at making others see his side regardless of how much in the wrong he was.

So why was he struggling?

___

Needless to say, he wasn’t very respectful towards Y/N any other time afterwards. He had unblocked her number months after blocking it at one point and demanded answers that he didn’t have the right to know. In retrospect, Harry was embarrassed by the way he acted. He did cheat on her and suddenly he was a saint because she moved on quicker than he thought she would? Unbelievable.

In his defence, the night he became the drunk caller was the same night he fought with Camille about having children; having a family they can call their own. Ever since that discussion did Harry notice a dispatch in their relationship. It was like they were aware of a missing link that had disappeared in their connection, but neither one of them wanted to be the one to bring it up. Harry supposed that now that Camille knew what he wanted (and vice versa)--she was feeling the pressure of giving in to him. Don’t get him wrong, Harry absolutely wanted a family and he thought that Camille was the right partner to build it with. However, he couldn’t help the voice at the back of his mind slyly whispering that he had forced her to give him what he wanted for the sake of saving their failing relationship.

It had been two and a half years since he mildly and miserably accepted that his dream family was being erased like a pencil on paper.

The first year; Harry still clung to the obscure hope that Camille might change her mind of having kids. Many fights sprouted between the two of them concluding in them sleeping at different places for weeks on end until they eventually crawled back to each other like an invisible string. The second-year; Harry brought up the idea of adoption. It was a hard choice for him as he desperately wanted kids of his own. A boy that looked like him and his love or a little girl that smiled at him with deep dimples mirroring his own.

And Harry liked to think that he was just on the edge of convincing Camille to consider the option when his tour was scheduled a few months after. A new dealbreaker was that Harry wasn’t going to be around much to watch and nurture the little bub they might’ve adopted. It was a sudden intrusion to think about since Harry was good with kids. He knew that. That was why he had three godchildren of his own. But what hit him the most was how sure Camille sounded when she yelled at him about leaving for months at a time and returning for a bit, only to leave again. Now, Harry hadn’t considered that part. But surely he will be ready to choose between a family and his career, right? When the time comes, he thought.

It pained Harry to admit that his relationship with Camille was dwindling down the drain. The knowledge that there was no future--the one that Harry envisioned--for them was getting more and more real each passing day.  

A late-night grocery trip was one of the many examples that had Harry rethinking his actions for the past couple of years. It was the time period where night owls arose and barely any customers littered the aisles. Still, Harry made sure to keep his hoodie up to shield his face.

Camille had an early flight to Milan in just a few hours later that day and she wanted to purchase some things to bring with her; in case they weren’t available in the country. So here they were at three in the morning.

As Camille walked ahead of him in her sweatpants and a plain tee, Harry couldn’t help but let his eyes flicker to the clothing section to his right The first-floor space was decorated with pastel blues and pinks; a stroller was displayed with a price would not make a dent in Harry’s bank account.

“‘M just gonna grab somethin’ over here, Cam,” Harry muttered as he pointed a thumb behind him. She nodded, “Meet me at the produce? Need to get you some fruits,”

Harry felt guilt thudding his chest because although he was losing feelings he thought were written in stone, Camille appeared to care for him the same way she always had.

He walked to the brightly lit area, puffing his cheek as a cute onesie caught his eye, “You’re so golden” with the word ‘golden’ printed in a shiny, yellow glimmer. He smiled at the thought of baby angel cooing at him as he tickled her tummy. Harry passed by the shoes next, picking up a pair barely the size of his palm. His mind flashed back to a conversation with Y/N years ago,

“I’m just saying,” Y/N took a bite of a pickle she held on her left hand, “Baby shoes have no business being that expensive,”

Harry chuckled from his place across the counter, “Babies need shoes too, love,’

She grabbed her fork and stabbed a piece of strawberry from her bowl, “I didn’t say the don’t need shoes. For tiny things, they could at least be a bit cheaper,”

Harry watched as she munched on a pickle on her left and took a bite of a strawberry on the other. His tongue poked out in a gag at the odd combination, resorting in glare and a huff from Y/N.

“You should try it instead of judging me,’

“No, thank you. Watching you eat it is enough for me,’

Harry craned his head at each aisle, hoping to find Camille and to distract himself from the endless Y/N related thoughts that somehow returned to his brain. He needed his girlfriend to remind him that he cannot just knock on Y/N’s door and ask her about the baby she has. If he could hold them for a bit because his baby fever was through the roof.

Locating the produce section, Harry whistled mindlessly as he searched for a blonde head of hair, failing to notice that there was a basket in front of his feet. He had kicked it, jolting him out of his thoughts in a hurry.

A man with brown hair sporting an outfit similar to his (sweats and a hoodie), chuckled at him as Harry leaned down to retrieve the gray basket filled with a jar of pickles.

“Sorry man,” Harry muttered, holding the handles up for the man to carry.

“It’s alright, it happens,” The guy had not seen his face yet, too busy inspecting the carton of strawberries.

He decided to continue the conversation, “Strawberries and pickles? Odd combo, huh,” Harry was briefly reminded of Y/N’s obsession with the two rival products.

“Yeah, m’lady loves ‘em. Had a craving in the middle of the night. She’s in the car right now with our lil bubba,”

Harry’s heart fluttered at the mention of a baby. He needed to get his rails in check. He cannot keep having his heart bursting with adoration at the mere mention of a baby.

“I’m Connor,” He said, finally facing Harry after choosing the best carton.

“I'm--,”

“Harry!” Both men turned their heads towards Camille carrying a basket full fruits and green veggies, “Got you some stuff to blend for your smoothies,”

Connor squinted his eyes at the couple and Harry internally screamed because he knew that he and Camille had been recognized. “Harry. Yeah, I know you,” The sudden hostility made Harry confused as Connor grasped his basket from him in a harsh manner, heading towards the checkout.

The rest of the time inside the store was filled with curiosities as Harry carried the paper bags towards the car, barely recognizing Connor’s figure heading towards his own vehicle. Luckily, Harry has parked only a few slots away and could inconspicuously watch Connor and his so-called ‘lady’.

Except, Camille was ushering him to hurry up as she still had a few things to pack at home.

On most days, Harry was used to waking up alone. Used to feeling the shiver crawling up his side, used to seeing the indent left by Camille’s body instead of her. He had grown familiar with the sudden cast of loneliness blanketing him thicker than the duvet on top of his body.

The early morning trip to the store had tired him out, paired with the overthinking of the man named ‘Connor’ that flipped his attitude towards him quicker than he could kick the grey basket with his feet. He flopped back to the mattress after washing his face and brushing his teeth. It was noon when he jolted out of bed again at the sound of his front door opening, voices filling the empty space that had Harry running towards the foyer in case there was an intruder.

His tense shoulders sagged in relief when he caught sight of his mum and Gemma, “Oh, s’just you guys,”

Both women looked up at him at the top of the stairs, “You forgot we were coming over for the weekend, didn’t you?” Gemma teased as she headed to the living room. Harry followed, walking down the stairs.

He scratched the nape of his neck nervously, “No. . . “

“Can you help me reach this, H?” Anne called out from the kitchen.

His mum gave him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, “Yes, you did, by the way. Slept through the whole morning. Good thing Camille let us in before she left,”

At the sound of a bag crumpling and squeals echoing the hollow house, Harry scrunched his nose in curiosity, briskly walking where Gemm was currently holding up tiny baby clothes in front of her. “Who’s that for?” He thought of any possible friends that had had a baby recently but couldn’t recall any.

She immediately stuffed the clothing into the bag, nervously placing a hand on her chest, “Gosh, Harry, you scared me,” Her brows went high on her forehead in alarm, sharing a look with her mum trailing behind Harry.

“Well? Did I miss something?”

“Oh, it’s for one of my friends,”

Harry contemplated on his next words, “D-did you know that Y/N had a baby?” It couldn’t be right if his sister and mum knew about his exes baby and not him, right? That’s just plain odd to still be in touch with an ex's family. His brows furrowed in suspicion as both of them declined his question.

“What? Nooo,”

Awkward silence filtered through the air as Anne sipped water from her mug and Harry was slowly putting the pieces together. Gemme dove to the centre of the couch where her phone was when it rang suddenly, surprising all three of them. Harry was quicker, eyeing his mum and sister and inspecting the emoji substituting as a name before sliding his thumb to answer it.

"Hey, Gems! Are you coming to the park? We're waiting for you,”

Harry felt his heart drop to his stomach just as the phone nearly slipped from his clutch. That voice. He could recognize it from everywhere having spent nearly every morning for the four years that they were together hearing it lulling him out of sleep. It was Y/N’s voice calling his sister who was looking extremely anxious.

He tapped on the ‘mute’ button, “What does she mean ‘we’?”

“Nothing! Give me my phone back,” Gemma tried to reach for the device but Harry held it high beyond her reach.

“I saw the picture you sent me. I told you that you and Anne didn’t have to get me anything,” Harry felt dizzy. “Connor and I got some things a few weeks ago. But that skirt is so adorable!”

One part of him was glad to hear her voice. In fact, Harry found himself smiling too, despite what he just heard. Connor. “Harry, won’t be there right? Hello? Have I been talking to myself this whole time,” Y/N laughed a little; she had a habit of talking endlessly when she was excited. It made Harry more sombre, letting his guards down and his arm in reach for Gemma to grasp.

“Hey! I'm just organizing the clothes, see you soon!" Gemma jammed her finger on the red end call, anxiously glancing at her brother, piecing everything together.

“Who's Connor?" Could it be that the Connor he met last night was the same as Y/N’s? The one who bought pickles and strawberries--one of Y/N favourite food combinations? He mentioned that he had a little girl and Y/N just called to meet his sister and his mum at the park. And baby clothes?

Anne and Gemma looked at each other, quickly deciding that for the benefit of Harry that they should tell him at least a little bit. He was looking as if he was going insane, especially with his bed head pointing his hair out in different directions.

“He’s Y/N’s partner”

Harry gulped, reeling his thoughts to a halt, “Partner? And the baby is...?” The last bit of confirmation was all he needed to lash his feelings out.

“Is... waiting for us at the park! Sorry H gotta go,” Gemma was swift enough to gather all the bags without having Harry chase after her. His state of confusion and shock was enough to render him partially speechless and immobile.

“Hey wait!”

Anne garnered his attention, “Oh, Mrs. Q from next door wants me over for dinner. I’m sure wants to see us both. Why don’t you get ready, Harry?” Anne tugged his arm in the direction of the staircase pushing him to stumble up a couple of steps.

Harry was confused. He made the sounds of his footsteps creeping up the wooden stairs, hearing his mum quietly talking to Gemma on the phone, “Elmsway Park, you said? How long till you're home? I’m not sure how long I can keep him occupied,”

With that being said, Harry was out of his house, silently unlocking and locking the door. He was dressed in some basketball shorts and a graphic tee, slipping on the first pair of sneakers he had tossed aside. Harry jogged to his car, typing in the name of the park on his phones’ GPS. The route was only a few minutes away so he decided to take his time, gathering his scattered thoughts along the way.

He parked just beside the playground scouting the trees around the premises. Harry decided that it was the perfect day. The sun was out. It wasn’t too humid and the birds were chirping on the branches. He could see why the playground was full of children running around in delight. The green patches of grass were partially filled with picnic blankets and food to be shared. Families laughed with each other as one in particular caught his eye.

It made him smile at first, seeing just how adorable the couple was with their baby. He exited the car, making sure to lock the vehicle. With his hands jammed deep in the pockets of his shorts, Harry could feel the tethered grass rubbing against his legs. As he got closer, he couldn’t help the twinge of familiarity spark in his chest, recognizing that what he was staring at was Connor playfully chasing a little girl of about two-years-old as she squealed at how close he was getting to tagging her.

Harry stood by a tree, shielding him away from view. He tried to appear invisible without seeming too creepy. He knew that it was only a matter of seconds before his eyes found the woman he had been missing, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

Connor picked up the little girl in his arms, dotting pecks all over the girls’ cheeks, causing her to giggle and push his face away with a tiny palm. And there she was standing outside the raised platform of the playground, coming up to the both of them with a juice box in hand to hydrate the little angel. Connor turned his attention to Y/N, planting the most adoring kiss on her lips that made her smile so wide and the baby cover her eyes. They laughed together, looking like a picture-perfect family.

Gemma sat on the bench, flickering her gaze to the precious family in front of her and to the figure of her brother walking away from the scene. Her heart broke for Harry, and it cracked, even more, when he turned back. This time, watching Connor and Y/N cheer on baby angel to go down the slide. Both of them clapped their hands in enthusiasm as the girl hesitantly slid down the plastic slide. The smile on her face was infectious.

It almost made Harry smile, too.

Harry was crying.

Admitting his feelings when he was younger was quite a task for him. Now that he was nearly in his thirties, the journey of being vulnerable with himself and with his feelings became easier with each emotion that he permitted himself to submerge in. Harry validated those emotions--he was allowed to experience them because it makes him human. It added texture to the ever-growing mosaic that painted who he was as an individual. Adding to the people that surrounded him, influenced by their kind-nature and the goodness of their heart to become who he was now.

And now, it seemed like his emotions increased tenfold. The clench of his abdomen and the harsh jolt of his chest forced his slouched shoulder to stay deflated. His breathing hitched as sobs threatened to take over, throat sore with the effort to keep it all in because Harry was smart enough to know that these emotions coursing through him right now were ones he wasn’t validated to feel. Paired with the latest information that that little girl being held by another man was his own daughter--and that the woman who was glowing with her caring, motherly-instincts was supposed to be his family; it broke him completely.

Quaking thoughts circled his brain and punctured his muscles as if they were attacking him not only mentally, but physically as well in exchange for his past mistakes that he couldn’t quite place if he deeply regretted or not. Was it a mistake to cheat on Y/N? To leave her alone in the exposure of the public eye while she was carrying his child in her tummy?

Harry should have known the day she fell sick and vomited in their kitchen sink. He was, sadly, too busy throwing a subdued celebration of finally having time alone with Camille. He should have noticed the way her face brightened with radiance. Or the way her cravings for strawberries and pickles either grossed her out or completely compelled her to consume more than she usually would.

But Harry guessed that that was around the time his efforts went out the window because he didn’t have to pretend to care as much anymore. Camille appeared to be his one and only. With their relationship coming so close to being revealed and Y/N having one foot out the door, Harry let fate play out the rest. Don’t get him wrong, Harry still loved Camille; that was why his slashed heart still throbbed at the sight of her watching over her little cousin, yet knowing that the topic of children was still not a card on the table.

The distress that he was feeling right now was core-shredding, heartbreaking grief that left a hole in his heart. The worst part was that Harry didn’t exactly know how to fix it or whether he even could. As he walked to his car with hands jammed into his pockets, he was grateful that the hood of his sweater hid his face and the tears sliding down the slope of his cheeks.

His senses were in overdrive, figuring out how to fix the mess he created. Wanting to run up to Y/N and ask her why she didn’t tell him, needing to feel his little girl in his arms. Pinching his skin to transfer the pain he felt in his heart because of the thought that he missed his baby’s first words, her first steps. Was it ‘dada’ that babbled out of her mouth? Did she reach out for Connor when she stumbled over nothing when she walked on stubby legs? Did Y/N mention his name to her?

“Harry!”

He kept on walking despite the hushed call of his name, assuming that it was a fan that caught sight of him and wanted a picture. Harry adores them, but now is hardly the time to fake a smile or act like his life didn’t just flash right before his eyes--quite literally.

The vehicle beeped as Harry pressed the ‘unlock’ button on his key fob, just about ready to pull the door open and shield himself from prying eyes. He flinched when a hand fell on his shoulder, “Harry,”

He looked up to find Gemma panting, resting her hand on the roof of the car, “Are you. . .alright?” Her drifting eyes inspected his face, tinted a slight pink and moist with the salty liquid dripping from his tear ducts.

Huffing in annoyance, Harry clutched the handle to let himself in. Gemma followed his actions, shutting the door and locking it. The tinted windows of the car provided a semi-private enclosure that was filled with Harry’s sniffling and Gemma’s heavy breathing, trying to catch her breath.

“H-her name is Halo,” Gemma began, gulping when Harry paused his ministrations, straining his ears to listen despite the dull thud occupying his vessels. “She’s almost two years old,”

“You said you didn’t know,” Harry’s gruff tone echoed. Gemma anxiously rubbed the ends of her palms against her jeans. “Why didn’t you tell me? You knew all this time and y’didn’t tell me,”

“I-I was--she didn’t want me--”

“Why would she tell you and not me? I’m the one that dated her,” He raised his voice with every syllable he spoke. The frustration he felt from seeing the woman he once loved living the reality they shared together, except he wasn’t anywhere in the picture and that reality was only a fantasy in his life now. “It doesn’t make sense,” He rested his forearms on the wheel, facing the car’s symbol.

“The baby is yours, Harry,”

His head quipped with speed, grazing his forehead on the rounded leather but that pain didn’t amount to the new wave washing over him. “W-what?”

“It’s really not my place to tell,” Gemma said nervously, making eye contact with Harry’s searing yet teary gaze. “She wanted to tell you but you were so happy with Camille. She was posting these things on her Instagram about your trips and Y/N called me crying because you looked so free and happy without her. Y/N didn’t want to ruin what you guys had by dropping this on you,”

"That's-that's my baby?" Harry stuttered over his words while tugging his head out of his memories. Gemma nodded in confirmation. “Then why in the world was she--Halo?--calling him ‘dada’?

“Look, Harry, you’re not stupid. You know why Halo called Connor her dad,” Gemma spoke slowly, “This is a conversation that you need to have with Y/N if she lets you,”

At the mention of the man’s name, Harry couldn’t help but be filled with anger. He barely knew this man yet he received everything that Harry wanted in life. ‘But she’s my kid. I’m her dad. I’m the one who’s supposed to give her kisses and make her laugh,” He mumbled quietly as if his inner thoughts were far too strong to be kept in his mind

He was staring mindlessly at the numbers on his dashboard, hands gripping the leather steering wheel to try and ground himself. "But if that's my baby, how can she call someone who's not her father, dad?" He whipped his head towards Gemma, searching for validation that would make him feel better but the siblings were aware that he lost that title three years ago.

“I think you know you lost that place in their lives,” She reached a comforting hand to pat his arm, feeling just how tense he was under the fabric.

Harry shrugged her off, pinching his brows and pursing his lips as sadness began to swirl down the drain only to be replaced with resentment, irritation and bitterness. The taste on his tongue was hot with anger and his ears felt warm as he wheezed air instead of opting to yell his dissatisfaction near his sister.

“This isn't fair. She's m’baby too. Connor is not her father,” He spat with venom, “I am,” A pointed finger poked his chest. "She knew she was pregnant when she left me. She’s so fuckin’ selfish. How could she do this to me?

Gemma was quick to remind him of his actions, "You cheated on her, Harry.” Gemma cowered back at Harry’s beady eyes glaring at her with an unreadable emotion, stone-cold. “Maybe you should go home. Calm down a little bit,”

“No!” Harry cut Gemma off, “Need t’a hear her say it myself,”

Harry didn’t know what his plan was when he harshly slammed the car door behind him, practically storming on the patches of grass like a mad man. It wasn’t hard to spot the picture-perfect family sitting on a park bench which brought a scowl to his shielded face. He wanted to give Y/N a piece of his mind and it wasn’t necessarily the nicest thoughts that crossed his brain.

Halo was sitting on Connor’s lap while he was feeding her a peeled cupcake. Red velvet with cream cheese frosting--Harry felt like he was punched in the gut. The baked good was Y/N’s specialty and it had a lot of sentimental value to both of them. It was what she baked for their first year together. He could vividly see her frosting-dotted nose, aiming to splotch the cream on his cheek while she laughed. Harry wrapped his arms around her, hugging Y/N from behind and proceeding to kiss her sweet cheek, leaving the perfect opportunity to stain his skin with the frosting.

But he didn’t care if he was smashed headfirst into the cake (as long as it wasn’t ice cream cake)--Harry just wanted to see her smile and hear her laugh heartily.

Y/N was snuggled on Connor’s shoulder, fixing Halo’s hair as she made grabby hands at the confection. He cannot lie--Connor was a handsome man. Harry rarely felt intimidated or insecure, but seeing that this man managed to snatch everything Harry could ever want seemingly in a blink of an eye; Harry felt very jealous.

He pouted, eyes rimmed red and lips quivering wishing that Cory or Connor--whatever that little shit’s name was would disappear so that Harry could take his place instead. Actually, it was his spot in the first place. Only if he didn’t mess up, he thought. He missed Y/N so much! Seeing Y/N in her element of niceness and bright-gleaming smiles sent a truck full of sand down his throat as he gulped his emotion below the surface. The closer he got to them, his vision tunnelled towards Halo; brown, flouncy curls and a cute dimple embedded in her cheek as she giggled, accidentally knocking the cupcake on the ground.  

If that wasn’t symbolism staring at Harry straight in the face; a sign that their so-called relationship really had no chance of reprieve. Harry chose to ignore it.

Connor clutched Halo tightly against him, crouching down with a napkin to clean up the scattered cake on the ground. Y/N was the first to notice him, her forehead creasing as her eyes bulged at the sight of Harry walking towards them. She subtly poked at Connor’s arm, hurting Harry even more because it meant that Y/N felt uncomfortable with his presence.

He was close enough to read her pink lips, “We should go,” matched with Y/N’s frantic actions of packing the juice boxes and the Tupperware of cupcakes into the tote bag beside her. Connor searched the park until his gaze landed on Harry, protectively shielding Halo from him.

Is he serious? Harry thought. That’s my own daughter.

Speaking of Halo, the two-year-old happily continued munching on her new cupcake, frowning slightly when Connor stood up, “Why we leaving, Daddy? Did I do somethin’ bad?”

Y/N sighed, they promised that Halo could play at the park all day and now it was cut short because of a certain someone.

“No, you didn’t, bub. Let Daddy explain at home, okay baby?” Connor hitched Halo higher on his hip, hoping that she wouldn’t ask any more questions until the trio left.

“Who’s that?” Halo asked, pointing at Harry only metres away from them. Her stubby finger outstretched at the stranger in front of her, eyes bright and sparkling with curiosity. There was no sign of recognition painting her green orbs.

Harry gulped, wanting so badly to scream “I’m your dad!” but he knew that Y/N will add that to the list of his mistakes he had made.

“No one, angel,” Connor planted a kiss on her head, looking over at Y/N who had finished packing everything up. He tilted his chin in an attempt to scare Harry off.

But the thing was, Harry was already scared. He could feel his stomach in his throat but vomiting wasn’t the right word to describe it. His heart drooped deeper than the levels of the Earth. He was scared because his family was right in front of him but he couldn’t touch them or hug them in his arms. He was only allowed to look from the outside because there was a small possibility of being forgiven.

“Y/N. . .” Harry began hesitantly. The surge of confidence he had decreased with each passing second. He kept a close eye.

Y/N shrugged the strap on her shoulder, “Leave us alone, Harry.”

He felt his anger disappearing, a new emotion cascading his tear ducts and the blood in his veins. Harry looked back in retrospect; she really did mean it when Y/N said that she never wanted him around again. “I just want to talk. Please, let’s talk,”

“She doesn’t want to talk to you, Harry,”  Connor interrupted, grabbing the bag from Y/N and wrapping an arm over her shoulder, guiding them away from Harry. “She’s happy without you, mate. can’t you see?”

Harry kept his gaze trained on Y/N’s face, actively avoiding eye contact but drifted when Halo’s frown caught his stare. The little girl’s chin was hooked over Connor’s shoulder, squirming in his arms in an attempt to stop him from walking. Halo was smart enough to know that Harry’s expression screamed sadness and her mummy said that “you need to find a way to make them happy” if someone was sad.

“Wait!” Her shrill yell caused both Connor and Y/N to turn around. A piece of Harry’s heart shattered on the floor when Halo pulled Connor down by the nape of his neck, small hand leading his ear next to her lips. Then, she did the same to Y/N, pointing at Harry which caused him to straighten his stance, wanting to impress his daughter even though there was no point.

The couple shared a look before ultimately having Connor walk closer to Harry. Halo gripped her cupcake towards him, “‘ere y’go hawwy,’ She still couldn’t pronounce her ‘r’s’ yet.

Harry began to sob.

It was his daughter and those were the first words she had uttered to him. She didn’t know him yet Halo treated him with kindness and it ripped at his chest because Y/N must’ve taught her that. His palms became wet as tears streamed from his eyes, dampening the sleeves of his hoodie. He didn't care about looking foolish in front of them, not when his daughter saw him as a stranger and called Connor her ‘dada’.

Halo recoiled at the sudden reaction, her lips curving downwards, “Dada, mama, he’s cwyin’,” She tucked her face at the junction of Connor’s shoulder and neck, scared that she made him cry. Halo didn’t mean to make him cry. She felt so guilty that she started spilling tears of her own too, her face contorting into a scrunched expression as her mouth wailed open sobs, matching Harry’s.

Harry’s first instinct was to take a step forward and comfort Halo but he was rendered frozen when Connor shot him a glare, shifting Halo’s body out of reach and he could only see her face over the man’s shoulder. Y/N dimmed her eyes, brows pinching when she couldn’t help but let a smidge of sympathy wash over her. She muttered a few words to Connor, pushing him by the small of his back towards the parking lot.

When they were out of earshot, Y/N faced Harry, “What were you thinking? Are you trying to mess everything up again?” He tried to cut in, “Isn’t it bad enough that we’re talking about this in public? Why must you ruin everything, Harry?” She whisper-shouted, trying her best not to garner them any attention.

“N-no, Gemma told me and I jus’ wanted to see her--and you. Wanted to hear the truth come out of your mouth,” His large hands jammed into his pockets to prevent him from fiddling with them.

“Look, you have no right coming here,”

“I know that b-but I--,”

She held a palm up, “I’m not sadistic like you Harry. If you thought that I wouldn’t let you around her then you’re wrong. As much as I hate to admit it, I do miss you and I wish that you were there for us when we needed you,”

“I had no idea--,”

“Will you let me speak?” Her tone carried irritation. “But we’re alright now and we don’t need you anymore.”

Harry never thought that those statements would ever come out of Y/N’s mouth. “Don’t you think I deserve to get to know her?”

She sighed, “Deserve? Definitely not.” He nodded in agreement. “But I’d live in regret if Halo never got to know her real father. . .”

Harry’s expression lit up, hopeful eyes shooting glances at her, “D-does that mea--? Are you--?”

“You can see her. You can get to know her but only because you’re Halo’s father,” Y/N took a brave step forward, ignoring the way her heart throbbed as if she was being stabbed by a thousand knives. Painful memories drifted in and out of her train of thought until she shook her head to muster them out. It was in the past but she could never forget the feeling of hopelessness taking over her whole body.

With a hand on his shoulder, she continued, “Anyone can be a father and you’re just that. Don’t think that you’re entitled to anything more. You will never be her dad. Connor is. Understood?”

Harry took a deep breath and swallowed a heavy gulp, “I. . .understand. Thank you, Y/N. For letting me back in when I don’t deserve it,” He glanced at the two tiny figures piling in the car. He could just imagine himself plucking little Halo into her booster seat, booping her nose as she asked for the hundredth time why she had to sit at the back and not at the front with them.

“I’m not finished,” She deadpanned, “You are going to be there for her. Not for me, not for us because our relationship is over. You can hurt me as you did before and I can accept it but don’t you dare try to hurt her,”

And it was true. Having endured his painful game once before, Y/N was stronger now. She could take heartbreak as agonizing as that but she wouldn’t dare stand seeing Halo’s teary eyes staring back at her, asking why Harry had left them. She was far too young to experience the feeling when a piece of herself is ripped apart.

“I won’t hurt her. I promise,”

“I heard those words come out from your mouth years ago and look where we are now. Once you hurt her, it’s over.”

“Y/N, t-that’s hardly fair. I am her dad, aren’t I?” Harry cleared his throat at Y/N’s raised brow.

“No, you’re not. We just went through this, Harry.”

“Don’t call me that,” He muttered quietly because she only ever called him ‘baby’ or ‘h’.

“Will you stop? I laid out my cards. If you want to even have a speck of presence in her life, then you have to abide by what I said,” She crossed her arms in defence, “You will never be Halo’s dad, Harry. Connor is her dad. I don’t know how many more times I have to repeat this before it gets through you thick head,”

He opened his mouth to talk, “No wiggle room whatsoever?”

“No. Do I have to write a letter for you to understand that?”

In a moment of hurt and despair, Harry spat out, “Might as well, yeah? Waited over two years to tell me anyway,”

“Are you kidding me?”

His throat ran dry, realizing that he just ticked another box to favour against being a part of his daughter’s life, “I-I’m sorry. I didn't mean to,”

“Whatever. Are you willing to make the sacrifice?”

“This isn’t the place to talk about this,” Harry suggested, wanting to have some sort of foot on the ground so he doesn’t feel like he’s topping over with guilt and sadness. “Maybe you can come over to my house,”

Y/N shook her head, glancing briefly at her phone when it buzzed, “No. I will not step foot in that house again. If you really want to discuss it, you can come over at our place,”

“Your place?” Did they all live together? Well, that was another slap to the face. Not only was Connor playing dad to Halo, but he was also part of the household. Harry’s face must have contorted into a grimace because Y/N sighed softly.

“Yes, our place. Meaning all three of us,” She gestured behind her. “I have to go. You can probably get my number from Gemma; you can text me then.”

“Yes, yes! Of course, I want to talk to you. . . about this, I mean,” Harry lowered his enthusiasm. The small voice in his head reverberating that this was not about him and Y/N; this was about Halo.

“And make sure you don’t bring anyone else,” Y/N said sarcastically, subtly pointing in the direction of the paparazzi hiding behind some bushes. Harry was usually good at spotting them but today was just a puddle of hurt and confusion. “I don’t want her having to read nasty things like I did,”

What Y/N said may have been a side comment, but Harry couldn’t help but take it to heart. Was this a good idea? Sure, he wanted to be a present dad in Halo’s life. However, is it worth it to stir unwanted drama? If only he didn’t cheat on Y/N, all of this could have been avoided.

With his mind in a haze, Harry barely noticed Y/N’s figure moving away from him. He jogged to catch up with her, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder. Harry felt numb to the way she shrugged her touch off of her immediately, “Were you ever going to tell me about our daughter?’

Y/N stared at him quizzically, tilting her head a little bit sideways, “I thought I did? Wait!” A look of recognition plastered across her features, “I did try to tell you but you blocked me before the message sent through,”

Harry gulped with realization. He blearily remembered  bitterly blocking her number just as she texted “I need to tell you something,”

Y/N: Since you’re not picking up my calls

I need to tell you something

Y/N took a deep breath as her thumbs tapped on the letters slowly as if to withhold the news from him. She was not at all ready to reveal that she was pregnant and that he was the father but Y/N knew that it was the right thing to do. Despite the fact that he was currently out of the country on vacation somewhere on an island with sandy beaches with Camille. Y/N was aware that this spike of courage was rare and so, she had to do it now.

Y/N: I’m pregnant

And you’re the father

She locked the device as soon as she pressed the arrow to send the message, clutching the phone close to her chest and shutting her eyes so tightly that it hurt. Minutes passed with no response and Y/N was shouldered by curiosity to check if he had sent anything back or simply left her on ‘seen’.

It was neither. The screaming red exclamation mark surrounded by a circle indicated that she had been blocked.

The times when she left missed calls on his phone were for a reason much bigger than the two of them. Y/N didn’t call to beg for him back or to ask Harry to want her again. He was ashamed to admit that he had rolled his eyes upwards every time he clicked on a voicemail she had left, stating, “Hey H, it’s me. Call me back when you hear this. I need to talk to you,” which he deleted without a second thought. She didn’t text him endlessly to politely ask for her things packed and settled for her pick-up because Y/N could not bear to spend another second in a room with him.

It wasn’t that at all.

Y/N was physically moving farther and farther away from him, settling herself into the car before driving off to hers and Connor’s shared house. Halo sat in the backseat, singing along to the radio.

Harry was surrounded amidst the joyful squeals of children and reprimanding voices of their parents.

He stood alone with no one but loneliness by his side and the brisk flash of cameras in his peripherals.

Harry felt out of place.

As a world-renowned pop star, he was used to being paid a different kind of attention in most of the places he went to. He should be used to it. Harry had to take measures in order not to get recognized for stepping into a local coffee shop. Even in hot weather, his recognizable tattoos gave easy access for fans to whisper amongst each other, wondering if it was the right time to ask for a photo or merely share a conversation with him.

His voice--the thing that made him as famous as he is now--was tinted into his fans’ heads. Recognition blaring in their ears when the deep, gruff tone projected the open air. It would be quite disturbing if he had to change the pitch for everyday errands. Harry would rather feel out of place than go to extremes to change who he was.

This lifestyle was something that he was used to, having been under the scrutiny of the public eye for a little over a decade now. But Harry knew that Y/N was a small, town girl practically bickered and poked until she was forced to cough something out to taint Harry’s name in vain. From the way, he preferred sniffing his nose into a hanky instead of a Kleenex. The way he snored loudly when his nostrils felt dry. The way his hair isn’t as naturally curly as it appears to be. All of these things were the borderline crossing of his privacy that she could’ve taken to the press, urging in many articles written about his odd habits or preferences.

Not that he thought Y/N was that type of person to spill secrets in the midst of desperation, but Harry had cheated on her for God’s sake. If she did run her mouth, Harry wouldn’t blame her. He was horrible to her; cheated on her for a year, not even bothering to tell Y/N that his affection was teetering in favour of not hurting her and wanting to keep his side relationship a secret for a taste of adrenaline that came with his less-than boring life.

Harry left her alone while she was going through a life-changing period of her life. To be fair, Y/N didn’t actually tell him. She tried, but the message never reached his cognition. Harry wanted to save his salvation by choosing to believe that it was her fault for not visiting him in person to tell him the news.

Really though, how could Harry possibly know about her pregnancy if she didn’t make the effort to inform him of his own child. It wasn’t like he was supposed to check in on her, his ex-girlfriend, right? That was unheard of. And frankly, Harry thought that the day everything blew up--when she read the letter meant for Camille; Y/N made it very clear that she did not want to speak to him again. So really, Harry was just respecting her wishes.

Y/N was supposed to be the one feeling out of place; not Harry. If only she had told him when she identified the symptoms of pregnancy, he could have helped out. Harry wasn’t sure if he would have left Camille to begin a family with Y/N (if she took him back) or if he was only a parent of support. One that was there for the sake of raising a child but not sharing the means and affection to build a relationship with Y/N.

These were Harry’s thoughts as he sat with the family of three. In between Y/N and Connor as they sat on opposite ends of the round table with baby Halo in her high chair and Harry across from her. Halo was staring at him with wonder and curiosity; a shy type of look that tinted her cheeks a tad rosy and her lashes to peer at the man adjacent to her, wondering why he was joining them in their family dinner.

Harry felt out of place.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Connor asked, feeding the child a spoonful of peas. “Not usually like this,” She shook her head, tucking her arms together and pursing her lips inwards in a sign of rejection.

Halo looked at Y/N who was giving her a soft smile, then to Harry. “She’s not usually like this. She must be shy that you’re here tonight, Harry,” Y/N explained, a tone of indifference that she tried to mask to help Halo feel a little more comfortable.

Harry gulped heavily. His child was uncomfortable because of him. He almost felt guilty for wanting to scoop her up and canoodle Halo in his arms. Harry still hadn’t had the chance to do that.

When the door opened earlier this evening, Harry was met by Y/N’s furrowed brows, firmly reminding him that this dinner was for him to be slowly introduced into Halo’s life. Harry would get the chance to care for her by helping the child with her nighttime routine. That included brushing her teeth, tucking her in, a bedtime story and possibly a kiss on the forehead.

Harry was giddy, to say the least. Harry was confident with kids and could easily mould into what they needed. If they wanted him to pretend to be a car while they jumped on his back as they grasped onto his curls to steer him, he would. If Harry was instructed to be a pretty princess with a plastic tiara on his head, he would exaggeratedly lift a pinky up to play the part. It was easy for him to win the hearts of his little nieces and nephews because they were familiar with him. They knew him as ‘Uncle Harry’ who gave them gifts whenever he came over to visit or if there was a large family reunion.

He couldn’t exactly do that with Halo. She was familiar with him, yes. However, the one time they interacted, Harry had made her cry. It didn’t sit right with him that tears sprung from her corneas when she was only trying to make him feel better, sensing that her parents wanted nothing to do with him.

It wasn’t like Harry knew what she liked either. Did Halo like playing with dolls? Animals? Race cars? The most basic of things, Harry didn’t know. What was her favourite colour? When was her birthday? His resumé was already tarnished since he wasn’t present when her mother fell pregnant. Then, he missed her first steps, her first words. He was just a stranger to her.

And it showed from the way he stepped foot into the kitchen.

Harry heard her before he saw her. Tiny squeals and giggles fell from her mouth as Connor chased her around with plates grasped in his hands. Y/N had scolded the man for getting distracted instead of setting the table. Halo’s noises quieting down when she caught sight of the familiar yet unfamiliar man loitering the doorway.

“‘M sorry, love. Halo wanted to play,” Connor gripped her waist to pull Y/N closer to him, pressing a kiss to her cheek as she fought off a smile from splintering her face. “Right, cutie?”

“Wanted to play! Sowwy mama,’ Halo apologized, tugging on her pant leg.

That was when Harry realized the possibility of ruining the little family they had in the words. But this was supposed to be his in the first place so he couldn’t care less if he wrecked it. As selfish as it may be, Harry thought that there was meaning in him accidentally hearing Gemma’s conversation with Y/N. Sure, it was bound to happen, but it couldn’t have come at a better time. The hole in his heart caused by Camille’s confession of not wanting kids was growing each day, accentuated by the late-night trip to the grocery store and seeing the small baby clothes that took up half of his palm.

It was a sign, right? He felt like he was drowning in a relationship that had no future and the next day, he was met with Y/N and their baby.

Symbolism. As a writer, it was absolutely crucial to introduce some sort of word, item, place, or person and infuse it with impeccable meaning. Irrefutable to the point that that noun is and will be what the writer makes of it.

Round tables were supposed to be better at sprouting conversations than rectangular or square tables. Any conversation between a pair must be shared with everybody who sat around it. There was no room to quietly snicker or ration secrets. Yet somehow that theory was not working. At all.

Harry felt like an intruder sitting in a table that never held more than three people because it was always just them: Y/N, Connor and Halo. As the child got more comfortable with his presence, she slowly started babbling incoherent and coherent words alike, conversing with her ‘parents’ as they asked her about her day at daycare. Y/N asked about Connor’s day at work and the latter reciprocated the question which she was currently answering.

“It wasn’t as busy as I thought,” Y/N shrugged her shoulders, forking a piece of mash. Connor made a sound of recognition, “S’that why you texted me to go home instead?”

Y/N nodded, helping Halo scoop her own forkful of mash, “Yep, I had time to go to the store. I know that you were swarmed at work,” The couple allotted a loving glance towards each other.

Harry’s heart was cracking. He was witnessing what he could have had and He had a front-row seat to it. Was it jealousy? Maybe. He was in a relationship so he shouldn’t feel like swarming Y/N’s smaller frame in his arms, shielding her and baby Halo away from Connor. But he did.

“What about you, Harry?” Connor questioned him with a kink to his brow. Harry could tell that the question wasn’t sincere, purely out of consideration.

In a surprise, Harry coughed a little, reaching out to his cloth to dab the corners of his mouth. Truth to be told, Harry spent the day in a state of anxiety. From the moment he woke up, Harry could feel his chest expanding with nervousness, heart beating loudly and pounding in his ears. He picked at the skin of his lip in the wonder of what he was going to wear. If he should wear cologne or if it will irritate Halo’s senses. He spent the better half of the morning browsing online for toys he could get in a hurry to give to Halo.

Harry contemplated cancelling the dinner because of the uneasy feeling boiling in his stomach. Heightened senses and pinched nerves convinced Harry that he could feel the muscles of his esophagus contracted as he swallowed. Lungs punctured with the tip of the pen he was using to scrawl a list of ideas to build a bond with his daughter

“It was alright,” Harry said warily, “Didn’t really have anythin’ to do today except come here,”

Y/N pulled her head back in surprise, “Sorry, we ruined your day off,”

His eyes widened immediately. Harry’s usual aura of confidence nowhere to be seen, “N-no, no. I didn’t mean it like that,” He could feel stray curls hitting his cheekbones lightly. “I jus’-- it’s m’break so I haven’t got anything for the next couple of months,”

___

Harry’s settled nerves were awoken when it was time to clean up. Y/N insisted on doing the dishes with Connor while Harry bonded with Halo.

“Remember, you’re doing this for her,” Y/N whispered in his ear, causing shivers to crawl up his spine, “Don’t be nervous, Harry. She’s going to love you,” She added, seeing the way he blinked warily at Halo and Connor. Even going as far as giving him a comforting smile.

“Thank you, Y/N--for giving me this,” She nodded in response, jutting her chin downwards.

“Hawwy? Mama said you gonna help me get to bed?” Halo’s green eyes still shone despite the dim kitchen lighting, reminding Harry that this was his and Y/N’s creation. Throughout the dinner, the child had somehow warmed up to Harry’s presence. With a promise of an ice cream trip after her nursery classes earlier in the morning, Halo was quick to befriend the man who she pointed out: ‘has the same dimple as me!’--while poking a stubby finger to her plush cheek, grinning to showcase it.

Harry could feel his heart thud, crouching down to her level, worried of her straining her neck looking up at his tall stature. “Tha’s right. Wanna show me where the bathroom is?” She nodded, grabbing Harry’s index finger to drag him along, exerting his lumbar to keep his height low. He could feel Halo’s feet stumbling, keeping her balance by tightening her grip on Harry.

Their time in the bathroom was fairly short. Halo had learned to brush her teeth by herself. She only needed Harry to guide her up the stool so that she could reach the sink, spitting the foam from her mouth when Harry made a funny face in the mirror, giggling loudly that had Harry’s chest feeling light.

As they walked through the hallway, Harry couldn’t help but let his ears be numb to Halo’s babbling about her favourite stuffed toy. He didn’t mean to. Instead, his neck craned to the door left agape, assuming that it was Connor and Y/N’s with the way the Gucci shoes that Harry had bought her were neatly placed at the bottom of the foot of the bed. He stared down at his moving feet, mood souring despite the bright colours of his loafers imprinted in a little rainbow--the same ones that he just caught sight off and wavered just as quickly.

“You like it?”

He snapped out of his thoughts when Halo climbed on her tiny bed, clutching her favourite stuffed toy. Harry plastered a beaming grin on his face, inspecting the painted room, the small desk pushed against the wall and the numerous artworks taped to almost every surface.

One, in particular, had his heart aching more so than it already was.

It was a hand-drawn stick figure portrait of Y/N, Halo, and Connor. Harry couldn’t even pretend that the skinny, stretched black marker was him because the child messily penned Connor’s name underneath. The figures were holding each others’ hands, oblong faces paired with a curved mouth shaped upwards. It didn’t help that the title at the top was “My Famli” which was crossed over with a red marker and re-titled underneath as “My Family” in neat handwriting that Harry could recognize as Y/N’s.

“Hawwy?” She repeated, wondering why he was staring so hard at the drawing taped on her bedside table. Her brows furrowed when a drop of tear fell from his eye and landed on Connor’s head, smudging the ink and making it blurry disarray as Halo gasped. “Oh no!”

“‘M s-sorry, Halo,” Harry’s tongue felt too thick in his mouth, sobbing threatening to escape but he remembered how that would make his daughter feel. Halo placed her soft hand on top of his.

“It’s okay, Hawwy. I can do it again,” Her timid voice made his heart flutter. Halo didn’t want Harry to cry again and it looked like he was about to so she scurried in planting her shaky legs on the floor. A blank paper was already stable on her desk, grabbing a marker to draw the ruined project again. She could see Harry’s shadow towering over her, thanks to the light projected by her lamp.

Flipping the paper over, Halo giggled, “Go away! Y’cant see it till it’s done,” She used her force to push him backwards which wasn’t a lot so Harry walked backwards until the back of his calves hit her bed frame. “Stay there and play with Honey,”

As she got back to work, Harry searched for ‘Honey’, finding an oatmeal coloured bear with a pot of honey clutched between its threaded paws. He stared at the plush toy for what felt like forever, wondering how special this must be to her. And how Harry wasn’t the one to have given it to her.

“Done!” Halo’s timidness returned, hiding the paper behind her back yet Harry heard the slight crumple.

Placing the stuffed toy on the bed, he asked, “Are y’gonna show me?”

She handed the artwork to Harry while he watched, smiling softly. Halo slapped her palms on her cheeks when Harry turned it over, his breath hitching when he saw the extra figure that she had drawn.

Harry. With a head of wild curls and dotted green eyes that appeared more black with the lighting.

He couldn’t help it when happy tears seared his waterline which Halo mistook for complacence. “You don’t. . .like it Hawwy?”

“I-I do. I love it, honey,” Harry admitted, chuckling slightly as he patted his upper thigh. She climbed onto the bed with him, the wood creaking beneath Harry’s weight. Halo clumsily climbed on his lap, lifting his heavy forearm so she could sneak between his legs.

Harry could feel his nonexistent double chin crowding his neck as he looked down at Halo who was cuddled to his chest, lips turned into a pout, looking at her quick-minute work. “I like it cause you’re there,” She pointed at the ice cream in Harry’s hand before yawning loudly.

“You’re sleepy, baby Halo?’

She nodded, pressing a small hand on his chest. Harry took the initiative to lay the child down on her pillow despite every nerve in his body urging him to stay in that position. But Harry figured that he had probably overstayed his welcome for the night.

Harry pressed a passionate kiss to her forehead, caressing her head gently. Sleep eyes stared at him as he pulled her fleece blanket to her chin. “Stay?” She questioned, fists crumpling to clutched the end of the fabric.

“I can’t, bub,” He informed with regret, shaking his head sadly and his mouth curved downwards. His knee was sore with weight pressed on his knee cap and his lumbar was aching with how he crouched down one too many times this evening, but all pain seemed to disappear when Halo picked up Honey the Teddy Bear from beside her and gave it to Harry. “For me? Thank you,”

Halo laid back down on her bed, “Mhm,”

“Why?”

As a two-year-old, Halo could only say so many words, yet her thoughts went far deeper than her brain could comprehend. That she felt a profound attachment to Harry despite seeing him twice. How pleasant it was to spend even just a small amount of time with him. Harry was nice and gave her forehead kisses and rubbed her head that placed a smile on her face. He cried because he loved her artwork and he apologized when he did something wrong. He contorted his lips into a silly face to make her laugh. He was going to be picking her up from school and Harry said he was going to buy her ice cream tomorrow!

“I dunno,” Halo shrugged, peering downwards to avoid eye contact. Harry chuckled heartily, puckering his pink lips to another peck on her forehead, and then both of her cheeks.

Harry tried to see the brighter side of the situation because it truly was something to look forward to. Having the chance to get to know Halo was something that he should be grateful for. As Y/N said, Harry did not deserve to be a part of her life, despite the fact that he was the father. And somewhere, somehow— he understood where she was coming from.

Harry honestly wouldn’t know what he would do if the roles were reversed; if Y/N were the ones to have been cheating on him. He would not have a clue if Harry would be as kind to her as she was with him. If an outsider were to assess the situation between Harry and Y/N, they would definitely choose her side to be in favour of. So far, Harry still wasn’t able to pinpoint what exactly Y/N had done wrong for him to be swayed by an illicit affair. Was there even a moment in time that he could vividly see where he made the decision to just up and betrayed her trust? Because if there was; either his memory has gone to shit or Harry was more of a jerk than he served himself.

To put things into perspective, Y/N was the perfect partner and Harry had somehow lost sight of that by cheating on her. Don’t get him wrong; Camille was good, great, even. Yet Y/N was an amazing woman who knew exactly what she wanted. Coincidentally, those were the same type of things that Harry needed, too. As much as it pained him to say it, Camille’s rejection of their own little family made him rethink his decision-making process. Harry has learned more about himself in these past few months than he did in his entire lifetime.

For starters, he cleared it up that he had absolutely no excuse for cheating on Y/N except the fact that his retention span lasted a good few years before he was in search of something fresh; something new and exciting. Maybe it scared him just how serious she was in having a family in the future that his subconscious thought that Harry needed one last hurrah to get the infidelity out. Besides, divorces are more complicated when there are children involved.

Secondly, being with Camille was an infatuation that lasted for a long, three years—beginning while Harry was in a relationship with Y/N. Feelings were still there for sure, but he just didn’t know if it was enough to make him stay, especially when Y/N and baby Halo were right there waiting for him. They actually weren’t; Harry just liked to pretend that they were so that he could justify the consequences of his actions.

Camille was trying to make things work with him; Harry could see that. However, there were only so many things that she could do to improve their relationship before she had to change the choices that she had made years prior. Camille really didn’t want to say that she had refuted the idea of not having kids for the sake of making a relationship prosper, but maybe it was what she had to do to make him stay. She wanted a happy life with someone who wanted the same things as her. Harry wasn’t the man who shared a mutual agreement and she was pushed to question her options.

Nonetheless, Camille and Harry stuck with each other because they were all they knew for the past three and a half years. It was definitely ironic for Harry to say that he couldn’t just leave a three-year relationship behind for another woman; because he had done that before. Now, he was a hypocrite too? His ego cannot take it.

Connor wrapped his arms around Y/N’s middle as she washed the dishes in the sink. Their water heater was broken so the stream that came from the faucet sometimes teetered from freezing cold to extremely hot. Right now, she was scrubbing the sponge on the porcelain as quickly as possible while the water was at the right temperature.

Y/N turned her head to the side, pressing a kiss on Connor’s cheek. He rested his chin on her shoulder, bobbing up and down as she moved her arms.

“Is this really a good idea, baby?” Connor asked, staring at the way her lashes fluttered in a pregnant pause, taking a deep breath.

She nodded, reaching over slightly to rest the wet dish on the drying rack. “Halo deserves to at least know her real father,”

And it was true. What kind of mother would Y/N be if she kept a secret like that from her own daughter? The past two years was a constant ping-pong battle of reaching out to Harry and sharing the news to him; then, Y/N would be hit with a shot of realization, wondering if this would ruin his current lifestyle.

“I understand. What if he leaves again? Hate to remind you but Harry left you once before, don’t think he’ll hesitate to do so again,”

She froze at Connor’s words. Y/N was aware that he only said that in good faith, to remind her of how hurt she was at the time and just how long it took for her to be able to finally breathe again.

One side of Y/N urged to still defend Harry. She wanted to turn and around, yell at him because Connor doesn’t know Harry as she does. Harry wasn’t the type to build a child’s dreams up only for him to personally manhandle the heart and crush it in his fist. There was a reason why he was a godfather to so many kids; Ruby, Arlo and Jackson—because he was capable. Harry was a nurturing father who put himself on the back burner in favour of making sure that the little ones were safe and secured. He had no problem being third if it meant that the kids were first, then Y/N, then him.

It all sounded so good in Y/N’s head; so well-rehearsed and very well thought out. The monologue that had somehow stuck in the sides of her brain like a script taped to the wall, ready for the time it needed to be recited. The shredded pieces of paper also reminded her that Y/N might’ve known Harry before, but she certainly doesn’t anymore. In fact, she knew just as much as Connor did.

Just like Y/N had grown and evolved into a new person, Harry was not the same guy he once was when they were together.

“I told him the consequences if he did,”

Connor pulled back, stepping away from her. “But wouldn’t it be better if we didn’t take that chance? Who knows what he might do. . .” He trailed off, grabbing a dry rag to wipe the water dripping from the dish.

Y/N took a leap of faith in letting Harry in. He was a wild card. He could promise one thing but would mean another. Or he could recite a vow and completely annihilate the person as he did with her. Yet somehow, Y/N couldn’t resist the opportunity to give him one chance. Maybe it was because a small part of her craved to re-create a happy family that they had always wanted.

“It’s a risk. I know that” Y/N rinsed a cup, swirling the water in circles. She felt like that whenever Harry was around.

“So why are you still doing it?” Y/N opened her mouth to answer, “And tell me the truth this time, yeah?”

Her boyfriend stared at her with an unreadable emotion in his eyes, lips drew taut in a straight line and arms were crossed over his broad chest. The pressure was immense on Y/N’s shoulders. She was torn between admitting what she had buried deep below the sand or simply glossing over it like a figure skater. Nonetheless, Y/N was on thin ice.

For years, she had flicked away the remaining feelings that stayed with her. But they were persistent in sticking by her side. It wasn’t like Y/N could completely erase Harry from her life--from who she was. She still dressed like him, evidenced by the matching pair of Gucci loafers she chose not to wear for the night in fear that he would coincidentally be sporting the same footwear.

Furthermore, they had a child together! Halo was the spitting image of him. It was hard not to be reminded by a man she once loved when their little baby was both of them mixed in one. So did Y/N still love Harry? She couldn’t deny how much her heart fluttered seeing him stutter over his words at the park. Y/N just wasn’t sure if it was from anxiety and nervousness or excitement and anticipation.

Unbeknownst to the couple, Harry had sneakily closed a sleeping Halo’s bedroom door. His trek back to the kitchen was slow, slightly afraid of the awaiting talk he and Y/N--and possibly Connor-- have yet to have. Harry wanted to be there for Halo and for Y/N every step of the way, but he knew that Y/N would not allow him around if his intentions were to cater to a relationship with her. She was already tolerating him as is.

Standing behind the thin wall that acted as a partition from the hallway to the kitchen, Harry carefully placed his hands against the barrier to steady himself. He didn’t know if his legs could take whatever answer would spill from Y/N’s mouth. If she admitted her true feelings, he would stumble and melt into a puddle. He would be confused, but Harry wouldn’t be opposed to it; he was in a relationship after all. If she denied it--which was the more likely option--, his heart would break silently in his chest.

Harry numbed himself of the guilt raking at his ankles. He was well aware that this was a private conversation but hey; it was not his fault that he had ears straining to listen to Y/N’s reply.

“Do you still love him?” Connor followed up, voice grim. Almost fearful to find out the truth. Harry was, too.

Y/N paused her thoughts as well as her actions, flinching at the sudden intrusion of Connor’s question. She flinched, yelping a little and jumping backwards when the broken water heater subdued the filtering liquid into a burning hot splatter on her skin. Connor picked his feet up in alarm, grabbing at Y/N’s wrist to see the minor injury on the back of her palm.

“Ow!” Y/N whisper-shouted, soothing the ache by situating it between her thighs before shakily showing it to Connor; the doctor.

“Let me see, baby,”

Harry peeked his head around the corner, almost losing his cover with the way his feet instantaneously wanting to move towards a hurting Y/N. Good thing he caught himself. Surely they would put two and two together and realize that Harry was eavesdropping.

That decision came with a laceration to his heart. Harry got a first-class ticket to register that the couple was everything he and Y/N were. The pet names, the domesticity of their actions. The caring glances and constant check-ups.

Deciding to come out of hiding, Harry almost had a heart attack when he turned the corner and was met face to face with Connor. His brows had dipped in worry, face determined to grab some cream to apply to the burn from their first-aid kit in the bathroom. Harry guessed that his whizzing thoughts failed to hear the quiet instruction.

The man jolted in surprise, stopping quickly in his tracks, “Oh hey! Is Halo asleep?” Connor gave him a smile despite the confusion etching in his forehead. Harry nodded dumbly, lips pursing like a fish. “Y/N’s just burned her hand, nothing too serious though,”

He looked over his shoulder to see Y/N eyeing the both of them suspiciously, still clutching the burnt skin close to her. “Oh, I see,”

Connor smacked a firm hand on his shoulder, stepping around him to grab the cream. Harry walked towards Y/N, noticing that she was soothing the painful ache with ice wrapped in layers of tissue. She was softly hissing through her teeth once in a while.

“You okay?”

She tilted her head at him, appearing to be dazed out in her thoughts. “Yeah, uh, nothing too bad,”

Harry kept his distance, leaning on the other side of the counter. He started off by saying, “Thank you for giving me this chance,”

Y/N graced him with a smile, standing up straighter when Connor appeared with a tube in his hand. Harry watched as he unscrewed the cap, placing it beside her. He squeezed a bit of the cream unto his fingertip before applying it directly on Y/N’s skin. She winced, wanting to pull her wrist away from his grip but Connor didn’t let her, “It’s gonna be fine, baby,”

He pressed a kiss to her temple, continuing to rub circles on the burn until Y/N visibly relaxed through slouched shoulders and less shaky breaths.

Harry was staring at them like a kicked puppy. He was fussy and frustrated all in one. He wanted the attention that Y/N was giving Connor. He wanted to be Connor, but both of them were too wrapped up in their little love bubble to notice Harry’s squinted eyes and pinched brows.

He was frustrated because even if he wasn’t the direct cause of her pain, Harry had somehow found a way to continue hurting her and Connor was always there to pacify his wrongful actions. Harry hated that this was how fate had planned his life.

Harry cleared his throat, raising a fist to his mouth, “Think I should go,” His thumb pointed over his shoulder, “Uh thank you again,”

Y/N snapped her head to him, gaze lowering in a timid manner as if she forgot that he was even there in the first place. Connor was the first to reply, “Alright, man. See you whenever,” He capped the tub, shoving it in his back pocket to return to its place.

She leaned on her tiptoes to press a kiss on his lips, muttering something in his ear that had Connor teasingly wrapping his hands on her hips. Harry looked away, taking long strides to the entryway instead.

“Harry, wait!”

He shuddered at the memory of the words that had changed his life when Gemma told him the truth. Harry’s shoe was half-way one when he turned around. “Yeah?”

Y/N was holding a folded brochure, “Halo has a recital this weekend for her dance class,” She handed it to him, “Maybe you’d want to go? You can bring Camille if you want but I think it would be better if you didn’t. She’s still new to this and I don’t want her asking too many questions until she can unders--,”

“I’ll go,” Harry cut her off, unfolding the folded paper. The venue was about twenty minutes away from his place. It was only an hour-long considering the skill set of two-year-olds but it was a fun way for parents to cheer on their little ones. Harry’s previously sour mood was now replaced with giddiness at the sight of his daughter in a pretty pink tutu, twirling on her feet. He was sure that Halo was born to become a performer like him.

She sighed in relief, puffing her cheeks out cutely, “It’s a private dance class. Pretty high end so the security should be okay,”

And there it was again. The constant reminder that Harry was otherworldly to some people. As much as he loved living his lifestyle, he sometimes wished that he was a normie. That was a lot to ask for considering his current situation with his daughter, but a man can dream.

“Got it,”

Y/N leaned over to show him the back of the leaflet, “Just show them this ticket and security should let you in. Halo wanted me to give that to you because she was too shy earlier. I know it’s short notice but I guess she was comfortable enough to ask you,”

Harry blushed at the admittance, mentally patting himself at the back for making his daughter feel at ease in a short amount of time.

“I’ll be there,” He pushed his heel to adorn his sneakers. Y/N bit her lip, she looked hesitant, “It’s okay if you don’t want to go, by the way. I can explain that you’re busy. She’ll probably understand,”

He placed a hand on her shoulder. Harry wasn’t going to ruin his progressive relationship with his daughter on ‘probably’. “Y/N, s’alright. No problem, yeah? I’ll be there,”

Where was he?

It was two days after the dinner and Harry’s promise of attending Halo’s recital was vanishing with each passing second. Every time the hand of the clock ticked to indicate that another minute had elapsed. Harry still wasn’t jogging through the carpeted middle of the small theatre to where Connor and Y/N were seated. Two empty seats were left at the end of the aisle to aid Harry--and possibly Camille--a smooth arrival without creating any distractions.

There were only five minutes left before the stage crew were to dim the spotlights illuminating the room. Y/N was checking her watch what felt like every second, clicking her phone on and off once in a while worried that something may have happened to Harry. Maybe security wouldn’t let him in. The gnawing feeling at the pit of her stomach suggested that Harry just forgot the event tonight but Y/N would cross the bridge when they got to it. Regardless, her nerves were left unsettled as swallowing proved to be more difficult with the way a sip of her water had her gulping audibly. Connor wasn’t there to lend a soft hand on her upper back to help her breathe.

Speaking of, Connor had taken the initiative to visit Halo backstage. The ballet teacher was growing weary of the way the little dancer ran out from beside the stage to stop in front of her parents, asking, “Where’s Hawwy?”.

Halo had done it three times in hopes of receiving an answer aside from, “He’s not here yet,” Y/N tucked a fallen strand of hair from the otherwise sleek bun from beside her cheeks. Her daughter’s form slouching as her pretty eyes watered slightly, “He’s not coming? You told me he was coming, mama,”

Y/N glanced at Connor nervously, being met with an ‘I-told-you-so’ look which didn’t really help the situation. Luckily, the teacher had approached them with a clipboard on hand, searching for the ballerina. The teacher had suggested that one of them stay with her behind the curtain until the show began. Connor volunteered.

“Better hope he comes or else we’ll have to deal with the consequences. I really don’t want to see her heartbroken before of a promise he couldn’t keep,” Connor muttered, following the woman but not before thumbing circles on Y/N’s flushed cheek.

Y/N knew that he meant well. She also didn’t want to comfort a heartbroken Halo because Harry failed to show up where he promised he would be. And now, with a little less than two minutes before showtime, Connor was sent back beside her. Parents were being ushered to find their seats before the lights dimmed and it would be difficult to maneuver through knees and legs.

“Is he here?” Connor questioned, draping a hand on her shaking knee. Y/N shook her head, casting another glance at the auditorium doors. He waved at Halo who peeked her head between the silk curtains, wandering eyes looking at the empty seat beside Y/N.

“No. Hasn’t texted or answered his phone either,” Y/N was about to dial Harry’s contact once more in a desperate attempt to reach him. However, the dimming lights indicated that it was too late. Connor laced their fingers together, offering apologetic eyes and a tight-lipped smile; they would have to nurse a broken heart later tonight.

Harry was in the middle of buttoning his patterned shirt, staring at his reflection in the mirror to silently judge his fashion choice for the night. Was it too much for a kids’ ballet recital? He deemed that it was, stretching his arms to remove the fabric adorning his chest, moving to grab the pink, flamingo patterned shirt instead. He took his time, granted that he had about an hour before the recital started.

He smoothed the fabric over his broad shoulders, pausing when Camille walked in. Harry locked his green eyes at her through the mirror as she walked to their shared bed, sitting at the foot of it.

“What d’ya think?”

She hummed in response, absentmindedly nodding in agreement when Harry asked if it was good. Both Camille and Harry had talked about his relationship with Halo as soon as she landed at the airport. He didn’t want to keep any secrets from her. Fortunately, Camille was very understanding of his situation, offering him support and encouragement to build a bond with his daughter.

What Camille didn’t reveal was that she was a bit antsy of Harry’s relationship with Y/N. She meant everything she had said to him, but it was no guarantee that Harry would ignite another connection with his ex-girlfriend. Not that Camille didn’t trust him. It was just a bit concerning because she believed that how a relationship starts is how it will end. Harry certainly had a history of straying away from his present partner.

Harry was currently in their walk-in closet, finding a pair of slacks that weren't too formal or casual. Camille mulled the thoughts in her head. She loved Harry dearly and would do anything for him. Well, anything except having children of their own. He had mostly accepted her decision, only wincing a little when the topic of a family was brought up by mutual friends and family once in a while.

Truth to be told, Camille was scared. She was afraid that Harry would leave for Y/N because she had Halo. They were the family that he had always wanted and although Camille wasn’t too keen on giving him the same; she was debating on it.

“How’s this, Cam?” Harry retreated with two pairs of pants. On one hand was a pair of straight-leg skinny jeans that he hadn’t worn in years. The other held brown, corduroy, striped slacks. “Or this one?”

She bit her lip, standing up slowly, walking over to him. “What do I think?”

He nodded, innocently jutting his bottom lip at her as he looked back and forth.

Camille swathed her hands on his shoulders, ghosting her mouth over his ear, “I think I like you better without them,” Her finger traced his collarbone, swirling at the dip of his throat. “Without anything,”

Harry gulped harshly. He felt Camille unbuttoning his shirt, gliding her palms downwards until she was cupping his bulge, “Camille, wait,” He flicked his watch to check the time. It took twenty minutes to get there, maybe even more with traffic and parking.

She dragged him to the bed by the ends of his opened shirt, locking her lips with his plush ones. He rested a knee on the mattress, his hands at the back of her head as Camille continued to pull him down.

Pulling away, Harry panted, “What are you doin’?” He laid his creased forehead on hers.

Camille supported herself on her hands, moving her face back until she was able to get a clear view of his perplexed expression, “I was thinking that maybe we could. . . try having a baby, H,” Her voice was soft, almost timid and she was doing her best not to break eye contact to show her sincerity.

Harry gasped in surprise, “Wha--? Really? Are you serious?” His tone gained a pitch as excitement enthralled his senses. The smile on his face was wide and reached his bright eyes. “Baby, are you sure?”

Camille nodded, grinning softly. “Yes,’

“Oh my--this is. . .,” Harry pulled at the locks of his hair, pacing around the room. “This is great! Our own family. Jesus. I can’t believe it,” Tears sprung on his corneas.

He kneeled between her legs, taking her wrist and pressing a gentle kiss on her skin, murmuring ‘I love you’ repeatedly.

“Are you going to keep doing that?” Camille asked, spreading her legs rhetorically. Harry observed her position, nodding enthusiastically.

Another glance at his watch indicated that Harry was absolutely pushing it with being late to Halo’s recital. Yet one enchanting kiss from Camille wiped his thoughts clean. He was getting what he wanted; a family of his own.

Harry puffed a breath of air from his plump lips, chest weighing heavy with the pressure that came from Camille’s head. Her blonde strands were splayed all over his inked chest, fingertips softly tracing over the detailed butterfly on his belly. The giant smile spread over his cheeks made the muscles hurt, yet Harry couldn’t help the expression from overtaking his face.

He was happy.

Camille nuzzled her face closer to him, only looking up when she felt Harry thread his digits through her hair, “Do you think we did it?”

Harry chuckled, wrinkling the skin under his chin as he captured her gaze, “If not, we can always try again, no?” He leaned over to press a kiss on her hairline, breathing deeply to catch the last scent of her shampoo.

The woman cast a glance over the shimmering metal-wrapped around Harry’s wrist, the hands of the watch ticking with each second passing by. “Wanna try again now?”

Harry blinked his lids, tired from their ministration. However, the enthralling feeling boiled from deep within his chest, excitement buzzing all over his vein. The throbbing itch on his fingertip had him doubting the events of today. Like a red shoe-string knot tied over his index, Harry felt like he was missing out on something important.

The discarded shirt laying limply on the floor had Harry’s thoughts humming with whispering desire. Was he too fascinated with the prospective idea of starting his own family that he forgot about the one he already had?

With that thought zooming in his brain, Harry sat up with intensity, accidentally jolting Camille’s upper half with a quiet ‘oomph’ slipping past her lips.

“Sorry! Sorry Cam,” Harry yelled over his shoulder, bending down to grab his shirt. He trudged down the steps, sliding his taut arms over the holes of the shirt as he scrambled to button the stubborn links to close the shirt.

He almost lost his balance on the last couple of steps because of his socked feet against the varnished wood, catching himself at the last minute with a ringed-hand clutching the railing tightly. Harry reached the foyer dresser where he kept his essentials--his keys and leather wallet--, patting down the back pocket of his dress pants to check if he had his phone with him.

Harry paused for a few seconds once he slammed the front door shut, catching his breath. He watched the last rays of sunset projecting over the horizon from where his mansion stood from the hills, wondering if he was too late. Clicking his phone on, Harry’s eyes bulged from the white letters bolding the time.

A few minutes left before Halo’s recital was yet to begin and Harry had to figure out some magical way to make his twenty-minute trek shortened into a mere five minutes. Not including the time he had already wasted frozen on his porch step because of idling fear creeping up his spine. He was scared because there was no way that Harry would be able to make it on time-- he knew that. But he’d be damned if he didn’t at least try.

Y/N cheered Halo on when the curtains swayed to reveal the tiny dancers. Her fluffy tutu made her look absolutely adorable as she stood on her tiptoes, gracing her arms over her head with a practiced smile on her face. The music from the speakers shifted the mood to gather the guests’ attention to the girls on stage, parents cooing at the sight of their small children dancing their hearts out.

Y/N was unofficially assigned to gesture with silent claps and bold thumbs ups’ whenever Halo happened to glance over in their direction. Connor squared his fingers to clutch the edges of his phone, the red button rippling as the time duration changed, recording the whole performance from start to finish.

Despite the fact that the dance classes’ media team made an announcement that a professional videographer would be capturing the whole thing, Y/N wasn’t going to let memories of her child be left in clear-cut transitions. Both her and Connor wanted the recital captured from their point of view. To be reminded of the time Halo rewarded their sleepless nights with a proud, gleaming smile because of how talented and well-rounded she was at such a young age---it was all worth it.

For a moment, Y/N was reminded of the empty seat beside her, the cushions cold and not at all moulded to the shape of Harry’s body. She wondered if his expression would mirror hers; brows drawn in, eyes wide and lips slightly agape as their little girl gave them a subtle wave before doing a twirl.

Y/N couldn’t help but notice Halo’s dimmed features when she caught sight of the gap beside her mum, her ballet slippers skidding of the varnished flooring of the stage, causing little Halo to stumble and fall hard on her knees. A loud thud echoed throughout the auditorium from the hollowness of the flooring, her head staring down at her hands, shoulders slouched as her tutu spread over her minuscule limbs.

Connor shifted his device lower, peaking over his hands to see the child glance around helplessly. Her lashes fluttered around the room; the concerned faces of the audience, her teachers’ gesticulate hands urging her to stand tall, and finally, to her parents’ gentle encouragement.

Y/N shared a quick look with Connor before the couple directed tender smiles to Halo.Y/N mouthed silent cheers, watching Halo’s lips morph upwards, green eyes gleaming against the reflection of the stage light. With one last hopefully glance at the doors, Halo’s pink tights stretched over her knees gathering the strength to push herself up. She shook her head, her adolescent thoughts wondering why she ever put her trust in Harry.

Halo didn’t even know him that well! He was just a person that showed her much of what she wanted, enabling her to the type of love that felt so natural to the point that she pondered why Harry hadn’t been there to drop her off on her first day of preschool. Or made pancakes for breakfast with the small breaks of flour fights in between while Y/N slept soundly in bed. Why Harry’s eyes were the same shade as hers and how her tiny fingers fit perfectly well on the dimples on his cheeks---the same one she had on her plush ones!

The pain in the child’s chest was confusing for her to fully comprehend, yet Halo understood enough that it had to do with Harry's absence in a performance that she was excited for him to attend. Halo tried her best not to look at where her parents stayed seated because she knew that that empty seat would make her lose focus and that was exactly what happened.

With the remaining minutes of the set, Halo blocked the sight of the unoccupied chair, opting to watch her parents instead until the set came to an end and she was to switch costumes for her the grand finale with the rest of the students later on in the evening.

Harry slammed the end of his palm against the leather material of the horn, honking blaring sounds that hurt his own ears. Cursing under his breath, he huffed at the driver who flipped him off for not running through the yellow light, causing Harry to get stuck behind him. He could’ve pressed on the pedal and speedily grasped through the next intersection. Albeit unsafe, but that was the last thing on Harry’s mind.

The digital clock on the dash switched to ten minutes after the performance. Harry was hoping that there was some sort of technical difficulties that pushed the designated time back. Possibly rowdy parents were unable to find their seats because of excitement. And as ashamed as Harry was, he hoped that a child had thrown a fit about performing because that always ate uptime.

His fingertips tapped in a staccato pattern against the rim of the wheel while the other pinched the skin of his bottom lip between his index and thumb. Sweat formed on his hairline, only then did he notice the heat turned up to the highest level from the night before. Harry adjusted the knob, feeling immense coolness from the air vents, thinking once more when the light turned green.

It was an asshole move to honk 0.001 before the light turned green, but every nerve in his being urged Harry to move faster and quicker. He really wished that he could snap his fingers to erase the traffic ahead of him, his mind immediately crossing the bridge to wonder if there was even any parking at the lot--but that was a problem that he’ll handle once he gets out of the congested roadway.

Harry knew better than to text and drive, knowing that his attention span wasn’t meant to be split. Not when his gaze was wild on the road, eyes bouncing back and forth from the time to the seemingly endless traffic. He attached his phone on the car mount, speaking hoarsely to ask Siri to ‘call Y/N’

After the call went straight to voicemail, Harry spewed the words clawing up his throat, “Hello? Y/N? It’s Harry. I’m sorry that I didn’t make it on time. S-something came up and I’m runnin’ a bit late--fucking shit!”

His foot slammed hard on the brake pedal when a sneaky traffic light switched to red. “Sorry I-I’m almost there,”

The beep sounded a few seconds after. Harry was grateful because he had no more words to say after that, realizing that whatever he had to say had to be spoken in person. It was much more sincere--and with the way, his chest was being burdened with guilt---apologies over the phone were never going to fix this.

“Mumma! Dada!” Halo squealed, running over to the both of them. Y/N and Connor were down on one knee, greeting Halo from her height with an engulfing hug with the child in the middle.

The medal on her chest bounced against her body, wrapping her short arms around both of their necks. The couple showered her chubby cheeks with endless kisses, making Halo giggle with delight.

“I’m so proud of you, angel,” Y/N spoke, grazing a thumb over her hairline. Connor handed her a mini-bouquet of flowers which she accepted with glee. “Thank you!”

The dance teacher, Mrs. Dabney, approached the couple armed with compliments for little Halo.

“She truly does deserve that award. Halo comes to class with a friendly aura. Always eager to learn,” Mrs. Dabney shared, evoking a heartwarming feeling in both Connor and Y/N. “You two did a great job raising her,”

Y/N blushed, glancing in amazement at her child. Connor chuckled, kissing Y/N’s temple, “It’s mostly her doing. Such an angel,”

Halo’s grip loosened the slightest bit on Y/N’s and Connor’s hand, zoning out when the adults got into specifics of the choreography and future tuition prices due to the expansion of the dance studio. Looking around to see the families celebrating with the performers, Halo couldn’t help but let curiosity take over her.

Where was Harry?

“It was great seeing you guys,” Mrs. Dabney concluded, rubbing Y/N’s shoulder softly.

Connor examined the emptying room, seeing the families exit through the doors, probably heading out for dinner. The rumbling of his tummy reminded him he was hungry too.

“Ready to go, love?” He asked. Y/N nodded, pursing her lips at Halo’s sad expression.

“Yeah, it’d be best to take this off of her mind,” She kneeled down to Halo’s level, lifting her wobbly chin. Y/N’s heart shattered upon seeing the teary irises staring back at her, “He didn’t come, Mumma. Hawwy didn’t come,”

Halo’s tiny whimpers were a stab to the heart, nearly dropping her mini-bouquet as she sobbed into her mothers’ arms. Her salty tears damped the skin of her neck. “I know, bubba,”

Y/N made eye contact with Connor, who offered her a sympathetic smile, stroking the nape of Halo’s neck in a comforting manner.

Connor crouched down as well, muttering quiet phrases of ‘it’s okay, angel. “How about we get something cake, yeah? ‘Know y’like those, don’t you?”

Halo lifted her splotchy face-off of Y/N, swiping a small finger under her eyes. “A cake?

Her pretty pupils dilated with the light, as well as the prospective concept of her favourite treat dangling under her nose. “Yeah, baby. A chocolate cake,” Y/N voiced out, aiming to remove the pain from the little girls’ heart.

“That’s right, Halo. You can have as much as you’d like,”

Y/N squinted her eyes, she really wasn’t up to a sugar-high Halo nearing bedtime but she guesses it was better than nursing a mopey one. Connor mouthed a ‘what?’, his grin betraying him.

“Alright, let’s go,”

Harry frantically rammed his thumb on the key fob to lock his car. The latch of the door barely grazed past the edge of his sleeve before it slammed shut. He inhaled deeply, not taking notice of the nearly empty parking lot as he ran as fast as he could. Harry’s many experienced years of physical activity--including yoga, football (soccer) and early morning jogs-- have made this so much easier on his calves and asthmatic lungs.

“Fuck,” He whispered out, tightly closing his eyes, backtracking the progress he had made. He unlocked the car, hastily walking over to the passenger’s side to retrieve Honey the Bear situated on the leather seat. With the stuffed animal gripped tightly in his hand, Harry boosted his speed once again towards the entrance.

He stopped in his tracks abruptly when a family opened the door from the inside, almost hitting him square in the nose if his fast reflexes didn’t halt his frame. Harry smiled apologetically, large hands clasping in front of him as he bowed slightly to show sincerity. He could see the flash of recognition whizz past the man’s eyes.

Before he could say anything, the little girl coming to about hip level tugged on his pants, reflecting his attention to her. Harry quickly slipped past the opening, adjusting his vision to the dim lighting. He jogged down the slanted flooring, the carpet aiding him not to skid, especially since he was not wearing sneakers.

Harry panted with exertion, feeling the uneasiness weighing in from the tips of his fingertips, buzzing through his forearms and embedding itself in his taut biceps. His shoulders slumped, using his arms to propel himself towards the front faster. The emptiness of the room should already tell him what he was frightened to face. However, Harry wouldn’t let this stop him.

He dashed straight to the backstage area, not caring if he was caught since he really wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place. Still clutching the toy in his palms, he peeked his head in every room he found only to conclude that it was barren of life, lights switched off and the only sound that echoed was the radio somewhere in the area.

Harry could feel his slim hopes dwindle down the drain. He rested his lumbar on the wooden stage, staring at the Honey the Bear and wondering if it was worth it to miss Halo’s recital for selfish reasons. But was it really selfish?

Halo would have a half-sibling. She would be an older sister. Surely, it wasn’t too selfish of a deed, right?

He sighed lowly. Disappointment showing with the way Harry closed his green eyes in realization. The sound of rolling wheels snapped him out of his destructive thoughts, making contact with the janitor sweeping the dusted floor covered in pink confetti and ruffles. The broom shifted the dirt into one area.

The janitor took note of the paper that Harry held in his hand--his ticket that granted him access to the venue. “A bit late, huh?”

Harry chuckled bitterly at the sarcastic humour. Of course, he was too late, emphasized by the emptiness of the room and the barren reverberation of his voice.

“Just a bit, I guess.”

“Got a lot to make up for, then?” The man asked him, whistling during the pauses they took in the conversation.

Harry nodded, nudging his chin outwards. “S’messy out there, yeah?”

“After every show,”

Harry glanced around at the amount of tidying there was to do, halting suddenly at the row near the stage. He briskly walked over the little ways towards the spot, focusing his gaze on the stickman drawing on the blank paper, moving slightly with the wind.

“Harry”

The label at the centre of the page was capitalized in black marker with stars around his name. Brown circles of curly hair rested on the oblong shaped face that Halo had drawn. His arms, legs and body were thin lines but the smile on the drawings’ face was wide--similar to the one Halo had drawn in her bedroom. The sheet was crumbled, creasing more with the compression of Harry’s grip.

He messed up. Really bad.

With a sleeping Halo nuzzled under the crook of Connor’s arm, the little family cuddle on the soft cushions of the couch with a Barbie Mermaidia movie playing on the screen.

It was only about halfway through the plot when Halo fell asleep. Her hair was freshly washed, smelling like grapefruit and berries. The tendrils of her hair were released from the tight bun which sat at the top of her head for the majority of the night.

Her tired body was exhausted from the activities of the day, begging for relaxation and sleep that came easily with the way her tummy was filled with yummy food. Halo mumbled something in her sleep when the doorbell rang. The loud sound ringing through the house.

Connor hummed in his sleep, shifting his neck to rest more comfortably on the neck of the couch. Y/N rubbed her eyes clearly, checking the time and wondering who could possibly be ringing the doorbell at this hour. She stretched her arms over her head, releasing a sleepy yawn.

She stuffed her feet into her slippers, shuffling the soft footwear towards the front door. Y/N peaked through the hole to find Harry’s face filled with worry. Rolling her eyes, Y/N unlocked the barricade, swinging the door open.

“What do you want?”

“Look, before you say anything,”

Harry paused, looking up at Y/N with a pleading gaze.

“I told you not to hurt her. I told you that you had one chance and you messed that up,”

“I know but I was--” Harry shut his mouth instantly. What was his excuse?

Y/N raised a brow, annoyance wafting from her body language and the firm tone of her voice. “Well?”

He gulped hard, shown by the way his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. “There was traffic. . .”

The woman in front of him laughed humorously, “Oh there was traffic? That’s what you’re going with? You could’ve left your house early, you know?”

He agreed with her, “I know, but I--Camille, s-she told me--”

“Camille?’

Y/N crossed her arms, kicking off the doorframe where she previously rested her body.

Scratching the nape of his neck nervously, Harry meekly responded. “Camille said that she wanted to start a family. She didn’t want to before but she must’ve changed her mind,”

Harry’s usually syrupy speech increased in speed. The information swirling around Y/N’s head as she tried to make sense of what she was hearing. He missed his daughter’s recital for what?

Y/N shook her head to herself. There was absolutely no way that she could get herself to think that Harry was capable of doing that but the facts were stacking up against him.

“Please tell me you didn’t,” She spoke, hating the way a pleading tone was drifting in and out. “Oh God, you did!”

Harry didn’t say anything; he could barely move. He stayed stoic and let his silence do the talking.

“You missed your daughter’s recital to have sex?” Y/N said incredulously, trying to keep her volume down to no wake up the sleeping individuals in the living room. “You’re despicable,”

“Y/N, you have to understand. I just wanted--,” Harry paused, his gaze landing on the small child creeping behind her mum.

Y/N snapped her neck to look behind her, seeing Halo walking over towards them in the chilly night air. “I’m sorry, did Mumma wake you up, bub?” She stroked her head softly, feeling Halo nod.

“Hawwy?”

“Hi, my love,” Harry greeted, crouching down to get closer to her. However, the child moved away from him, hiding behind her mothers’ leg. Harry felt the pinch in his heart at the action.

“You didn’t go,” Halo said, stating the obvious, yet both Harry and Y/N knew that the statement ran deeper beneath the surface. “You pwomised Mumma you’d come. I was waiting fo’ you,”

“I know, baby,” He cooed, “I’m sorry, I didn’t make it, angel. I promise I’ll come to the next one,”

Y/N snickered under her breath, like hell she was inviting him again. Harry stared at her briefly with pain in his eyes.

“Look who I brought,” He revealed Honey the Bear in her sight, giving a smile in hopes that that would make everything better. Halo merely stared at the toy in his hand, a sad pout on her lips. She was even hesitant to make eye contact with Harry.

With a bit of coaxing, Halo took the bear from Harry, inspecting the animal with a careful gaze before throwing it on the dirty ground. Y/N tensed at the action while Harry audibly gasped.

“I don’t want it and I don’t want you!” Halo ran back inside the house, disappearing through the wall that separated the living room.

Harry slowly picked up the dirtied fur, holding it by the clean area. Y/N felt bad for him but she knew that he deserved it. There was only so much she can do to console the child to forgive him and Halo was pretty adamant about not doing so from their talk earlier.

“I hope it was worth it, Harry.”

“No no no, please. Give me one more chance,” Harry slumped his knobby knees on the welcome mat, grasping at Y/N’s exposed ankles from the short stature of her pyjama pants.

Y/N tried to kick him off, but he was insisting. “Get off of me, Harry!”

“Not until you give me another chance. I can fix this,”

“No, you can’t,” Y/N stayed firm, “I made it very clear that if you hurt her, it’s over. And you did. Over what? So you can have sex while Halo spent her time looking for you? Do you know how helpless I felt seeing the way she looked at the door, hoping that you would walk through?”

Harry expected that, but it did not do grace to the guilt that was mounting.

“She fell, Harry. Halo stumbled on her spin and she fell because she saw the empty seats beside me and saw that you weren’t there,”

Harry stood up to his full height, staring at Y/N and waiting for her to tell him that it was all made up. “I-I didn’t mean to,”

“Of course, you didn’t. You never mean anything, do you, Harry?” Y/N stated exasperatedly, “You didn’t mean it when you said you loved me, that we would wed and that we would start a family. You didn’t mean jack-shit when you promised not to hurt Halo--your daughter--but you did. You didn’t mean it then and you don’t mean it now. So please, save both of us the energy because we both know that you’ll break it over and over again,”

“T-that’s not true,”

“Is it not? You hurt me. I’m still hurting from what you did to me and I tried so hard to protect Halo from you. I gave you a chance because I couldn’t take the burden that Halo might never meet her real father and this is what you do?” Y/N closed the door behind her when she took notice of her voice rising.

“All you do is hurt people, Harry! You don’t care about anyone but yourself. You wanted a family so bad that you leave the one you could’ve had to start a new one,”

“That’s bullshit,” Harry said more firmly. “You would’ve never let me back into your life and you know it,”

“That’s not the point! I wanted you to be present in her life, not mine,” Y/N coughed a little, lifting a balled fist towards her mouth, “We have a child together for God’s sake. I love you, Harry. I still do and I don’t think I’ll ever stop because every time I look at Halo, I’m reminded of you. The good, the bad, the happy and painful memories. I can see it all playing in my head when she looks at me with those big green eyes or gives me a smile and your dimple pops into my mind,”

Y/N sighed, “I love you but I know my limit. I wanted you around for Halo, and now--I understand why we would have never worked out. You’re too selfish,”

“Selfish? That’s hardly fair, love. I tried my best, didn’t I?”

“That’s not enough. You’re too enthralled by the idea of this perfect family that you run back and forth between Halo and I or Camille. When the other doesn’t play out the way that you want, you change gears so fast to the other. That’s selfish in and of itself.”

Y/N lingered her hand on the golden doorknob, twisting the mechanic to open the door. “You can’t just leave when things don’t go your way, Harry. That’s not how it works.”

“What does?” Harry stuttered out.

“That’s not how love works,” Y/N smiled sadly, looking into his eyes as if trying to take him back to their relationship years prior. “That’s not how a family works.”

Harry’s expression crumpled, wrinkled his eyes and dampened his rosy cheeks.

“I hope you find your happiness one day, Harry. It wasn’t with me and it’s not with Halo. Wherever it is, don’t mess it up as you did with us.”

Harry was rendered speechless.

His mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. The arm of Honey the Bear dangling from his fingertips as he watched the door shut behind her.

Over the years, Harry had tried desperately to get in contact with Y/N and Halo. All he wanted was his family back. His relationship with Camille was spiralling down the drain with each passing day, dwindling hopelessly, and Harry felt helpless.

He had overheard that Y/N and Connor had moved houses-- somewhere a few miles away. He had persuaded her old landlady to give him her forwarding address, and he had flown out that very weekend. He wanted his family back-- no, he desperately needed them.

He doesn't know what exactly he's expecting when he shows up at the doorstep, but Y/N's harsh tone of voice and unwelcoming demeanour was not it. He had hoped-- prayed, that there might be a sliver of a chance that she might forgive him; that Halo might forgive him. He hadn't seen the little girl since that night; Y/N hadn't allowed it.

"Come here again and there will be a restraining order sitting on your doorstep, Harry, I promise you that. And unlike some people, I keep my promises."

"A restraining order--? Y/N that's not fair!"

"Take it up legally if you'd like. Want to have a custody battle? Bring it on. Let's see whose side the judge is on after they find out that you cheated on me while I was pregnant with Halo."

"I didn't know you were bloody pregnant, dammit!" He yelled, tears pooling in his eyes.

"Oh wow! That makes it all better! You didn't know I was pregnant so you cheated on me. Nice. Great going, Harry!"

"Please for heaven's SAKE stop fucking calling me that!"

"Get out, Harry. Leave. I don't want you here. She doesn't either. And if you think I'm joking about getting a restraining order-- think again. I'm serious. Do not come near my daughter."

"She's my daughter too!," He all but shouted, "you can't keep her away from me!"

"Watch me."

And with that, she slams the door shut in his face, ignoring his incessant knocking and pleading through the wooden panel.

It was years later.

It was a cold February morning, and Harry was fresh out of a hot shower, and he put on a woollen jumper to keep from freezing.

The weather was distasteful, dull and cold, but a smile pulled on Harry's lips. It was her birthday. His little girl's birthday. So what if he hadn't seen her in 10 years? So what if Y/N hadn't spoken to him in a decade? Tears stung in his eyes at the thought that he was missing yet another of his baby girl's birthdays. Except, she wasn't really a baby anymore. She turned 13 today.

There was nobody on the planet he felt more love for than that little girl, of that he was certain.

So when Harry sat down with his letter pad and ink pen, his thoughts drifted to the short span of time he had spent with her. He reminisced on her sweet smile, the tiny dimple that carved into her cheek. Her tiny lips quirked into open-mouthed laughter. He walked to his closet and picked up Honey the Bear from among his clothes.

"Hi," he grinned, talking to the bear as if he were 5.

He sat the bear in his lap and sat at his dining table, and began to write. To his daughter, his little love. He knew that a letter wouldn't make up for what he'd put her through. He didn't even know if he was going to send her this letter, or if Y/N would let her read it.

But what's the harm in trying?

From 'Hawwy',

Hi, my love

______

Reading this again brought a lot of emotions to the surface

#harry styles imagine #Harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #Harry styles x you #Harry styles angst #harry styles x blurb #harry styles

[liquid-luck-00]

WonderBug

Angst Edition

Diana Prince (Wonder Woman) x Marinette Dupain-Cheng (Ladybug)

I am late. SO, so , so late but here it is

1: Soulmates @maribat-angst-fluff-april

My partner is the wonderful @thedragonbug

Ao3

Fuffy Edition

Soulmates exist, and Marinette hates hers. You see everyone is born with their half or part of a complete soul mark. The other parts would appear when you were closer to your soulmate and be permanent when they were close emotionally. For everyone, the appearance or 'drawing' of the mark was light and warm. But not for her, no her drawing was heavy and hot, like a hot knife digging into her arm.

Her parents knew this, and it was concerning, to know that their child was in pain because of their soulmate. Seeing as the marks were not supposed to be painful. Yet as there was no good reason given by medical and mark professionals, and the fact that her soulmate didn't stay near her for long there was nothing that they could do. They did tell her that few, this phenomenon affects one in a million people and she was just lucky enough to be one of them.

Over the years she grew used to the pain, but every time she did it would come back even stronger than the last. She slowly hated her mark and in turn her soulmate. Marinette would cover her mark, ignore it, even wish it away. All her soulmate did was bring her pain. Sure, it upped her pain tolerance, but it hurt her still.

When she turned fourteen, she became Ladybug. She then recognized that her mark was actually the wire of her yo-yo.

The first time Chat Noir claimed they were soulmates she broke down in tears. luckily for her he told her during patrol and not an attack.

"We aren't soulmates, Chat, and I'm glad we aren't." She nearly whispered.

"Why Bug?"

"Because I hate my soulmate, and I don’t want to ever hate you."

"Why would you hate your soulmate?" He seemed genuinely curious. But no one outside her parents knew, not a single person knew what happens to her.

"Because it hurts when they are close, it hurts so badly. The drawing is painful. I never want to meet the person who keeps hunting me." Tears formed in her eyes and Chat hugged her.

"I'm not your soulmate, then." She shook her head. "Good thing I'm your partner, and Plagg help me I am going to be your best friend. Got that Bugaboo?"

A half-hearted chuckle and a small smile escaped her. "Sounds good Kitty." The first person she has ever told, the person who was convinced that they were soulmates, cares for her, to help alleviate some of her pain.

The two became inseparable after that, to the point that most of Paris believed they were in a relationship.

When Nadia asked them about it during an interview, their reactions were memorable. Both all but gagged, turned to face each other, and then laughed almost falling out of the seats.

"I believe we have missed the joke." Nadia commented, worried, and confused.

"Why would I date my sister?"

"Sister?"

"Ladybug and I consider each other siblings in all but blood."

"Everything between us is simply platonic, not even close to romantic.” Ladybug answered after Chat.

“Then why would the whole of Paris believe you to be soulmates?” She may be good at hiding her pain, but the question must have made her react slightly, or Chat knew how sensitive the topic was to her.

“We aren’t soulmates, not the bonded ones that everyone thinks of.” He began. “We are the holders of the black cat and ladybug respectively because our souls resonate with the miraculous. Sure, they are two parts of a whole, but we are practically twins, two halves of coin. She is the sister I choose, she is my partner, and that is our relationship.”

“He’s completely right, now I think it’s time for us to start our patrol, BugOut!” Her smile now in place and their excuse to leave perfectly timed and respectful they made their exit.

They went on their patrol as normal, except just as they arrived at the Eiffel Tower to end the patrol. She was about to land on the platform when a searing pain flashed and radiating affecting her entire body blinding her momentarily. A single moment caused her to collapse on the tower landing, crumpling on the platform.

“LB!” Her breath came out in short bursts, she was clutching her upper arm eyes squeezed shut. This was the worst it has ever happened before, and she wanted it to end. As soon as the cause of pain came it disappeared. Leaving only the memory and a phantom pain.

"Just give me a minute." She slowly got her breathing under control, starting to get accustomed to the new level of pain.

"You weren't kidding that is the worst I’ve ever seen you hurt."

"Yeah not fun."

---

A month after that her mark burned again. This time during class. The teachers knew she would randomly stop due to pain, but they were told they were random migraines. To the point Mari would hold her head and rub her arm to sooth herself, while playing up a headache. Adrien stayed back after the class let out." You know you don't always need to put on a brave face Bugaboo."

Her attention snapped to him. "Well it's easier than constantly answering questions Kitty." She figured quickly.

Sure, they found out one another's identity, but that worked in their favor. After Tikki got sick, Fu started training Mari, and after a month Marinette was given guardianship. Fu still hasn’t lost his memories because Mari let Wayzz stay with him, for the time being, he eventually returns it to Mari in order to move on with his life, his memories fading gradually.

When Adrien got his hands on the grimoire, he of course showed it to Marinette.

“Kitty I know you don’t want to hear this, but I think your dad might be Hawkmoth.” This seemed to perfect for him to have without him being a villain.

“I know, but…”

“Adrien is there any motive anything that might be what he would wish for?”

“My mom. Dad closed himself off when she disappeared. I bet he would wish for her back.”

“Okay, so I’m going to be blunt okay.” He nodded. “So, if your mom is dead there isn’t anything that can be done without the wish, meaning at least one other person is dying.”

“So…”

“But if she is anything but.” She flipped through the grimoire recalling the studies she’s did with Fu. “There are ways we can find or even heal her.”

“This is all riding on an if.” He looked unsure as if this was too much to accept.

“Do you trust me?”

“If I didn’t, I would have turned tail and run a long time ago.”

“You dork.” She lightly shoved him, but he swayed dramatically.

“You two are close.” The new student in their class came up to them.

“Lila, right?”

“That’s right.” She answered sickly sweet, almost fake. “Are you two soulmates by any chance?”

“No.” Adrien answered. “Why?”

“You’re Adrien Agreste! Why would you be in public school?” She finally seemed to recognize.

“Let’s just say it’s a bit of rebellion.” He chuckled.

“We’re still on for video games, right?” She brought up to end the conversation seeing that Adrien was getting uncomfortable.

“Your winning streak is going down.” He announced.

“You want to join us, Lila?” She offered.

“Why?”

“Because your new and I want to get to know you.” Marinette answered honestly.

“Why?”

“Because we know you lied but still want to know you, the real you.” Adrien added.

“Why?” She asked suspiciously now.

“Question! Is it a felony to kidnap her to play video games, have snacks, get to know her, then let her go?”

“Well the kidnapping part is but if she goes willingly, I call that a hangout session.” Adrien mused.

“True, true.” She hummed. “So, what do you say, because now I am determined to get to know you.”

“Wh…”

“Kidnapping it is.” Adrien decided and grabbed the new girl’s wrist pulling her out of the library. Mari picking up their bags.

Lila herself wasn’t too bad once she started telling the truth, lying is a coping mechanism she created, because she is constantly moving schools, cities, and even countries. She is pretty interesting when she isn’t exaggerating. She was on a Hollywood movie set, but she was there on accident, she was looking for the bathroom in a restaurant and they were filming there that day. She did save a kitten on a tarmac once, but one it wasn’t Jagged Stones, it was a kitten who spooked out of their carrier and rushed down the stairs. Lila dove and caught it before it could leave the passenger unloading area to get the tram to the airport. (Some small airports unload passengers in a certain area of the tarmac and either shuttle them to the building or have a sectioned of walkway that is cleared for passengers, to walk back in only.)

After almost two hours Lila left for home when Adrien’s father called, and he was angry. Together she and Adrien ran back to the Agreste Mansion.

“Adrien!” Gabriel came out disheveled and slightly panicked. “And Miss Dupain-Cheng.” He slightly composed himself.

“Sorry I kept him.” She apologized. “He showed me this really cool book and you know how it is when inspiration hits.”

“Ah yes the inspiring fashion designer friend.” Adrien had walked up and handed his father the grimoire.

“It’s quite an interesting spell book.”

“You can read it?”

“Yes, I can. (Come on out little butterfly.)” Nooroo flew out from his hiding spot. “Hello kwamii of transmission and to you as well Hawkmoth.” She was calm deathly calm.

“How?!” Gabriel growled.

“Calm down. I have a question for you first. You want the jewels used by Ladybug and Chat Noir, why?”

“Would my answer change your plan of action to urn me into authorities and to the heroes?”

“My response may change, but you’ll have to answer to find out.”

“My wife wielder the peacock miraculous, it is broken, and she fell ill, and is in a comatose state.”

“Ah! So here is what is going to happen.” She took the grimoire from Gabriel and flipped over pages. “There is a way to revive her without resorting to using the wish.”

“How do you know this?”

She simply smiled. “You mind gathering these ingredients please Adrien?” She text him a list.

“Sure.”

“How do I know that this isn’t a ruse?”

“One I hate liars, and two because all magic has a cost, and this way is less than if you were to use the wish.”

“What do you mean cost?”

“Just like using your transformation wears on the kwamii, and the power affects your limit. Magic has its cost. The wish because it will always rewrite reality, the price is steep. Bringing back one life means you lose at minimum one other person from your life most likely more.”

“And this?”

“From what I understand. Everyone involved in the spell will have their energies deprecated so they will sleep for a day to a week.”

“Randomly?”

“No, the more people the less each person sleeps.”

“Here they are!” Adrien burst back in the room.

“Do you have the peacock miraculous?” Gabriel nodded. “Okay we’ll need that first, so lead the way to the kitchen.” Both men shuffled confused. “You do know where the kitchen is right?”

“Um well find it eventually.” Adrien chuckled. They were lucky and form it easily and Gabriel left while she and Adrien began to individually brew two separate potions. Adrien the more complex one for his mother’s revival. And she did the simpler one to fix the miraculous. Sue her Adrien is the better one in chemistry, sure he can’t cook to save himself, but he has a gift for chem, and Tikki help her she will teach him to cook. It’s practically edible chemistry, right?!

She took the Brock from Gabriel and fixed it, allowing Duusu out. “Okay so who is going to do this?”

“We will,” Adrien answered for himself and his Father, who nodded.

“Please let be help as well.” Miss Sancoeur offered.

Nooroo, Duusu, Tikki, and Plagg (they came out of hiding now) came to her. “We can help.”

She nodded and saw that Gabriel and Natalie were staring wide eyed between her and Adrien. She thought she heard Natalie say, ‘That explains so much’ but she isn’t sure.

Long story short they were able to wake up Emile, but she took back the peacock and butterfly, leaving Plagg with Adrien. Funnily enough the Agreste’s became a second family to her, once Gabriel finally grasped how to be a father. They told Paris that they had found Hawkmoth, but he would be tried by the order of Miraculous, meaning he would be stripped of the gem and his memories of the miraculous erased. It was a lie but Tikki told her that was what would have happened. There was some outcry, but they explained that they would have no recollection of it, and it wouldn’t make sense to try them.

The next few years of her life were blissfully normal, aside from the fact she had a contract under the Gabriel brand as the designer MDC, who was also endorsed by Style Queen. Chloe isn’t as bad as she puts on when she isn’t masking the hurt of being constantly ignored and bought by her parents.

- - -

It wasn’t until she was twenty-two and accompanying Adrien to a Wayne charity gala, one he didn’t want to go alone and two she was invited anyways, Chloe, Kagami, and Luka were also there on their own merits and invitations so they all stuck relatively together. Since arriving there Marinette was a constant pain, her arm burned and ached, but she forced herself to simply breathe and tried her hardest to push it out of her mind. But her luck wouldn’t hold, three hours into the event she was approached by who she recognized as Bruce Wayne, the host of the gala, and a woman to his left, the pain was almost unbearable the closer the two approached. Her friends noticed, they knew what her pain actually meant, as she opened up to them about it after a while, but she grit her teeth and tried to push through it.

“Mr. Agreste, Miss Bourgeois It is good to see you both again.” Bruce Wayne acknowledged. “It’s nice to meet all of you as well, Bruce Wayne.” He introduced to the rest, shaking hands. “And this is a good friend of mine.”

“Diana Prince.” She also went to shake everyone’s hands and had left Marinette for the last. The moment their hands touched she almost crumpled, she shrunk back and into Adrien and Chloe. “Is she okay?”

“Diana?” Bruce pointed towards her upper arm, the mark most of them overlooked before was now complete and glowing lightly. What Marinette remembered was that there was her yo-yo string and a golden rope that she only saw once before on her own arm. She felt sick, Diana was staring at her now, she recognized that Marinette was her soulmate.

“Melody?” Luka now stepped up.

“I want to leave.” She answered flatly.

“You are…”

She completely turned away, but by now her friends knew what was going on and were glaring at Diana. “I want to leave, now.” She repeated.

“Come on bug, let’s get you away from… this.” He threw a look at Diana, who was looking confused and seemingly alarmed.

The other three were putting as much space as they could between their friend and who is unknowingly causing her pain.

“Please is she alright?” Diana asked stepping forward barely grazing her hand covering her mark. This time it felt as if the skin itself was burning and stung almost like it was being pricked over and over and over again.

“Don’t touch me and stay away from me.” On the outside she looks clam and relaxed, but her voice was soft and raw, her eyes burned in pain. “You and that completed mark can stay far from me.”

“Luka, Kagami mind taking her back to the house?” The two in question led her away and once a safe distance away she broke down in tears, sobbing from the pain she was biting down.

- - -

The two that stayed were simultaneously glaring at her and watching their friends leave the gala.

“Is she alright?” Bruce finally bole the tension.

“As soon as she is far enough away from her.” The girl, Chloe, snapped at her. “Now that we know who is the the person causing her pain, we can keep her from them.” She snapped towards her, but it was a slap to Diana.

“I don’t follow. We are…”

“Soulmates, yeah we figured.” Adrien this time spoke.

“They why would she want to leave, without speaking?”

“One one in a million people are in pain when they are close to their soulmates.” Adrien spoke calmly but stoically. “No one knows why.” He began to fidget with a ring on hi# finger, she couldn’t recall if she saw any jewelry on her soulmate, Marinette, but she has a suspicion. After all she feels similar to her Mother’s aura and presence, that of a Ladybug.

“You are wrong. There is an explanation, but only a few know why that is.” She feels certain that she knows what this is.

“Let me guess you know why.” Chloe remarked, sarcastically and unamused.

“Allow me to explain this another time and place, as this is neither.”

“Fine call this number at noon est tomorrow.” Adrien handed her a phone number and the two turned and left.

“Diana?” Bruce snapped her attention. “What was that about?” He was still calm and collected but she knew he would be the one to ask, figuring out what was the next step, what had the best options of success.

“Magic.”

- - -

The next day she called the number and she was invited to a video call by the recipient. It turned out to be Marinette.

“Hello Diana.” Her voice was not cold but it was emotionless, as if she was forced into this conversation. Granted she did think she would be speaking with Adrien and Chloe.

“I never wanted to harm you, I swear that on the river Styx.” she began but before she could continue Marinette cut in.

“Let’s be clear, I don’t care about your apologies. I just want to know why this is happening and how to either get rid of it or to never have contact with you in any way or proximity.”

“I am apologizing because this is known as the curse of the ladybug and black cat.” She saw the young woman tense at that. “The reason I know of this is from by Mother, Queen Hippolyta Of the Amazon’s.” She allowed that to sink in and the other woman allowed her to drop her defense, nodding to what is said.

“When you say the curse of the ladybug and black cat what do you mean by that?”

“True souls of the miraculous, when in their life they come into contract with their given gems, cause a reaction.” Diana explained. “For the ladybug they receive the pain of their soulmate through their marks. Which is what I assume is going on.”

“Yes you’re right, but this has been going ever since I could remember.”

“Call it what you will fate, destiny, but you were always going to wield the ladybug jewel, that is why the curse manifested itself.”

“What about the black cat?”

“I am unsure, the black cat of my Mother’s time died before meeting their soulmate, but I would assume it would be similar to our situation.”

“Then how do we solve this?”

~~~~~~~~~~

Permanent Taglist: @itsmeevie01 @adrestar @miraculouspenta @vixen-uchiha @animegirlweeb @jumpingjoy82 @thedragonbug@astoriaandroses @icerosecrystal @t1dwarrior-of-earth @moon5606 @zalladane

#maribat #dc x miraculous #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #miraculous x dc #mlb x mcu #mdcu marinette #mdcu adrien #mdcu wonder woman #wonderbug #wonder woman x marinette #maribat angst and fuff #maribatangstandfuff

[mammonsvulva]

Hi there! I just discovered your page and i loved the bachata headcannon!

On that same line, can you do a female latina headcannon? Like, more specifically, Colombian, you know, an MC that's like normally fluent in english but when mad she just burst on angry spanish screaming session with latin curses and a strong accent and also just getting really mad if deemed as Mexican by default? I'd love that! Thank youuuu (also feel free to ignored this if it's not of your fancy)

I hope you have a great day!

Of course! I really hope you like it! :)

(I tried to incorporate things some of my relatives say as Colombians please don’t hate me🥲)

The Brothers + Datables and a Latina MC with Colombian Habits

Lucifer❤️

Lucifer has always been amused by the boldness MC portrayed, that is until Mammon pissed her off

MC actually f*cking explodes, calling Mammon “culicagao” (like a bratty kid) and a bunch of profanities out of rage

Actually leaves Lucifer surprised, who could she hate so much that she’d put a curse on them?

Is actually kind of scared to speak up after she went silent, kinda just stares at her like “what the fuck do I do”

“I’ve told Mammon A THOUSAND TIMES. IM NOT F*CKING MEXICAN”

(Oooohh Mammons gonna get his ASS WHOOPED)

“MAAAAAAMMMMOOOOONNN????”

Mammon💛

Could learn a thing or two from MC, had some strong clap backs

Is counting his money when OUT OF NOWHERE MC just starts incanting a literal curse

Literally has his quaking in his boots dude, like he’s genuinely terrified

He can’t keep up with anything she’s saying and feels like his time to die has come

Doesn’t say A WORD when she calms down, jumps when she starts apologizing for reacting like that

“W-w-what happened? ( ⚆ _ ⚆ )”

“I LOST 10 GRAND IN BLACK JACK! ITS FUCKING RIGGED!”

Is genuinely more cautious for a while, kind of traumatized him

Mammon thought it’d be a great Idea to take her to meet one of his witches, MC already didn’t like her but listen to this

First thing the witch said was “Aren’t you that Mexican transfer student or whatever?”

(‘Oooh Ms. Girl you fucked up’)

Leviathan💙

Wishes he could have MCs confidence, ‘how does she respond like that 0•0’

He’s reading Manga while MC just lost on the same level for the 5th time

Accidentally shifts to his demon for he got so scared

Has to whip his tail up and grab the controller before she could slam it, genuinely terrified for his well being

Once she calms down she goes to give him a hug, to help with her frustration

*PANICS* “I-I can h-help you with that level, if y-you want..”

MC watches as he beats it with ease and heaves a sigh of relief, literally such a stupid game

Gets just as offended as MC when somebody said “I went to Mexico on vacation once, what was it like growing up there?”

Will let her handle it and he’ll be her Moral Support <3

Satan💚

Loved that MC was always ready, he was like that too being the Avatar of Wrath

Is genuinely amused when MC burst out swearing because she got a bad grade, he actually thought it was hilarious

Thinks of like a game to keep up with everything she’s shouting, makes her more upset

“What the fuck are you laughing at juemadre de la-“

“You’re Hot when you’re mad, Did you know that?”

Makes her go silent immediately, why is he like this, making people wanna act up on DIAVOLO

When they’re BOTH mad at something it’s like a f*cking BOMB RAID bro

They both just keep adding more, even when Satans speaking a Demon Dialect and MC is speaking Spanish LMAOO

When an arrogant soul decides to purposely mislabel MC as Mexican, the fool needs to count his seconds with MC and Satan both getting on his ass

Asmodeus💞

Has always liked the spunk MC had, it entertained him to watch her bicker with his brothers

Surprised, but not happy AT ALL with the fact that MC could blow up like that

Gets on MC for lashing out, “MC! THIS IS TERRIBLE FOR YOUR SKIN, DO YOU WANT WRINKLES?”

Gets MC to tell him what made her loose her cool like that

“That stupid b*tch from class posted saying “That Mexican transfer student isn’t pretty enough to be this annoying”

Almost explodes as bad as MC did

“MS. GIRL SHE SAID WHAT? Lemme hop on Devilgram and end her career real quick💖”

Devilgram post- Asmodeus 19:34: “Aw sweetie, Not everybody can be as gorgeous as MC and muah, but don’t go trying to drag her in the dirt with you. Filthy🥱”

No mercy on the haters💔

Beelzebub🧡

Like Asmo, found it entertaining to see MC bicker with his brothers every now and then

MC just couldn’t keep calm anymore when she messed up the recipe she was working on AGAIN

Beel becomes more concerned than scared, ‘Is she ok? :(‘

Gets up to hug MC, hoping it’ll help calm her down a bit

She explains that she kept ruining the dessert no matter how hard she tried

“MC, it’s ok to do it wrong, because it helps you learn how to do it right :)”

She’s tried again, except this time with Beel to help her :)

Gets upset when someone defaults MC as Mexican, knowing how much she hates it

He may be a teddy bear but man don’t f*ck with his Chef

Belphegor💜

Thought MC was amusing with the way she made sure everyone knew she wouldn’t take any BS

MC just happened to stub her toe while Belphie was sleeping, and now he’s awake, and heated

“What the f*ck happened?”

Is actually more concerned than upset, she wouldn’t lash out like that for no reason

When MC explains that a picture of her in the RAD Catalog still ended up being there even though she made it clear she was against it

“Oh, MC- you look good in every photo, I wouldn’t be upset about it”

Assures her it’s not a big deal and then invites her to come take a nap with him

Will mean mug the f*ck out of anyone who assumes MC is Mexican, because he finds extremely disrespectful (as it is)

Might commit homicide if they keep saying Mexican but I ain’t no snitch

+

Diavolo♥️

At first took MC as disrespectful, but learned it was only when she felt she was being disrespected (then by all means, go off)

Surprisingly, Diavolo speaks Spanish, but he still kind of struggles to keep up

He’s just laughing the whole time too, like MC isn’t furious

Later, MC calmly explains just some random student pissed her off again

“Who is this student you say? Do I need to have a chat with them as the Demon Lord of The Devildom? :)?”

Dia actually admires how passionate MC is about her home country, agrees that it’s disrespectful to mislabel someone

Because he can, Dia starts to learn about Colombian culture and throwing parties just for MC

Starts saying shit like “politas pa la rumba!” (I’ll buy beers for everyone¿) just to sound cool to MC

Barbatos💟

Barb doesn’t understand how someone could be so beautiful but so hostile sometimes, overall doesn’t really mind though

Is surprised that such things could conde from MC, kind of chuckles thinking about it

He figured he should try and step in to calm the situation

“Is there anything I can do to ease you, MC?”

It ended up being that Diavolo was completely ignoring her and brushing her aside when he never did that with Solomon

Asks if she’d like him to talk to Dia about it, since he may approach it better than she will

Barb will quietly correct anybody who believes her to be Mexican, just so MC won’t have to deal with their arrogance herself

Takes his free time and makes dishes from Colombia, or Colombian themed cookies or cupcakes to make MC happy :)

Simeon🤍

Is trying to teach MC better ways to respond to idiots, more Angelic ways

When MC blows up for the first time in front of him, the literal shock she sent him into omfg

*GASP* “MC?! WHY ARE YOU SAYING SUCH VILE THINGS?”

Like, HELLOOO? SHE DARES TO SAY SUCH THINGS IN AN ANGELS PRESENCE?

Helps to calm her down after showing distaste for her words

“You’re lips are to beautiful to speak such sinful things”

Will go on to give MC a long but kind lecture about why exploding like that is bad for her Aura and whatever

Will politely make it known that someone was wrong for assuming MC is Mexican, does get a bit irritated though

He now goes up to MC when she’s getting upset, to remind her to breathe and comfort her with a deep hug :)

“See? It’s ok MC~ just breathe in and out for me, ok? :)”

Solomon⚛️

Will piss MC off on purpose just to see her pop off, he LOVES it

Literally her #1 cheerleader when she blows up, adding on to what she’s upset about

“Period MC” “No way she said that! What a fugly b*tch” “Right, she’s just a hater”

Hypes her up all the time, even when she’s obviously in the wrong

Sol needs ALL the tea, pulls up like “who we talking shit about?”

Will get on someone’s ass just because, now think about when someone mislabels MC😳💥

Gives MC a sense of pride hearing him say “Cagué” when he messes up a potion, he obviously picked that up from her

Luke⛅️

Gets kinda (really) scared when MC becomes a little aggressive

Actually bursts out crying because he was scared MC was mas at him

MC traumatized this kid so bad, he ran to Simeon like he was getting chased be some demons

“M-m-mom is really m-mad and *sobs* I’m s-scared *sobs more*”

MC IMMEDIATELY feels super bad because she scared away his soul

Simeon, having talked to her about it already, mouthed “Apologize now.” In a very not polite manner, kinda scaring MC too🚫🧢

Has MC apologizing PROFUSELY, trying to explain it wasn’t Luke’s fault

Once he calms down, they go to bake cookies like usual, except this time he’s sniffing the whole time :( 💔

I really hope this fit what you asked for :( </3

#obey me headcanons #obey me #om! #shall we date #swd mc #obey me lucifer #shall we date lucifer #obey me mammon #shall we date mammon #obey me leviathan #shall we date leviathan #obey me satan #shall we date satan #obey me asmodeus #shall we date asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #shall we date beelzebub #obey me belphegor #shall we date belphegor #obey me diavolo #shall we date diavolo #obey me barbatos #shall we date barbatos #obey me side characters #obey me simeon #shall we date simeon #obey me solomon #shall we date solomon #obey me luke #shall we date luke

[yniswaifu]

The bet - 6

They lost.

You never intended to go to their game, but you did. And they lost the second match, against a team called karasuno from the miyagi prefecture.

You couldn't deny the opponent team was impeccable in their game, and the win was well deserved. But you also couldn't deny the fallen faces of your school team. You couldn't deny the sorrow on Kita's face, even if he didn't give away anything.

You couldn't deny your own heart breaking.

You weren't into sports. Sure, you listened patiently to Atsumu and Ginjima's rant about their sport, or Osamu when he was truly excited about it. But you were never a fanatic.

Though right now you felt the loss deep in you as the others did, and the Inarizaki side of the stadium went completely quiet.

Inarizaki volleyball team lost in the second round of the tournament.

You don't know what is supposed to happen after this, specially for the third years, but you did know you had to be there for the boys.

Specially your boy.

You chewed on your thumbnail as you waited in anticipation for the team near their assigned room. None of the boys knew you had come for the second match, and you didn't intend to tell them either. It was a surprise. But now you think it was the better, that you were here.

You see the team approaching and stand straight. One by one you see them looking in your direction, Kita and Aran being the first. They give you a small smile, and you return one yourself. Aran's eyes were wet, so you knew he had been crying. Not just him, but others too, including Ginjima. He spots you and squeezes his eyes shut to stop the tears.

"it's okay. Shh..." you whisper in his ears as you hug him. You didn't have any sibling, and Ginjima was the closest you had to one.

Suna appeared behind him but even though he didn't cry, he looked upset. Squeezing his bicep you give him a small smile. He just nods in your direction.

"I didn't think you'd come." he asks.

You shrug. "I wanted to support my school."

Suna scoffs at your words. "sure."

You didn't say anything about his tone. He looked pissed. Not at the team, but at himself. And you knew someone like Suna needed some space to gather his thoughts.

At last, you spot the twins. Both their eyes widen at you, not expecting you to be there. Osamu's eyebrows scrunched in a frown whereas Atsumu looked sad. You had never seen Atsumu as silent as he was now. You didn't know what to say to them. The loss must have taken a heavy toll on them.

You were busy trying to think what could you say when your eyes connected to the person beside Atsumu. He was resisting something, his pupils wavering elsewhere but you. It was almost as if, he was controlling himself. Yeah, you did smile at him, wished him the best before he went for the games, but that still didn't mean you guys were okay.

You knew it wasn't the time for that. Screw it. Your man needed you and you were going to be there for him.

Walking up to them slowly, you turned to Atsumu and said, "I'm sorry." your voice was soft. You knew saying things like 'good game' or 'you played well' wasn't going to make them feel better. So you just went with being honest. You really were sorry. Sorry for the fact that even after giving their all – they lost.

Atsumu, like Suna, just nods in your direction before entering the assigned room. He knew Osamu and you needed some space, and that Osamu needed you.

As soon as the corridor was empty of people, you look at Osamu.

"Osam–"

"can I hug you?"

His voice was monotonous. There wasn't any emotion in it, but you were aware that those emotions were crashing at the seams in him. So you just nod.

Immediately Osamu wraps his arms around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You didn't care if he was sweaty and smelled, you wanted to comfort him.

Your arms go around his neck, and you caress his nape with one hand while the other just holds him.

After remaining in that position for a while, Osamu suddenly says, his voice muffled. "we lost."

You stay quiet, nodding slightly.

"I...I don't feel good. I think I didn't give my best."

"no, that's not true. You did give your best." you hug him a bit tighter.

He sighs shakily, blowing air on your shoulders. You could feel a wet patch form on your clothes in that area.

"then why did we lose y/n?" he asks you.

"because the other team were a tad better."

You couldn't lie. You knew Osamu would rather hear the truth than sugar-coated words from you.

He stays quiet at your reply, and just hugged you. After a while he says, "I wanted to play with Kita san and others a bit more."

His voice trembled slightly. Because he had cushioned his face completely on your shoulder, it wasn't very clear, but you understood he was crying.

Slowly parting from him, you cup Osamu's face and wipe the tears with the pad of your thumb. His eyes were downcast and light sniffles escaped him, when you rested your forehead on his.

"Kita san also said the journey is more important than the end result. I bet he loved the journey as much as you did. And he too wanted to play with you guys more. But fate has other plans, and as much as I want to change it for you, I can't. What we can do from this point onwards is strive to be better and cherish the good memories you made with others. "

Osamu listened to you quietly. He didn't react when you finished your speech. He just pulled you closer by your waist and whispered. "I love you."

A soft chuckle escaped your lips. You have heard those words before, but every single time it created a dip in your stomach. Something people like to call 'butterflies'.

"I know. I love you too."

"don't leave me? Please?"

Man, he was going to make you cry. The tender tone he used, the soft circles he created on your waist, the way he looked at you – you missed this.

moving his gray bangs to the side, you tip toed and placed a kiss on your boyfriend's forehead. "never."

For a second you stared in his eyes. You had the biggest misconception that Osamu wasn't as affected by the separation as you were, and that you weren't breaking him by avoiding him. Now that you see his eyes full of love and yearning for you, the same thing that he had held for as long as you guys have been together, never diminishing, you wanted to kick yourself for being an asshole to this bean.

Osamu closed the distance between you two and pressed his lips on yours. Without thinking twice about your surrounding, or that the team could witness this at any moment, you kiss him back. All those days of loneliness without the other person made you feel hollow, and it was now being mended through this kiss.

You could say it was the best kiss you guys shared.

Osamu held you closer, trying to get you to go further with the kiss. His tongue prodded your lips, but you couldn't. Not in public at least.

So you break the kiss, panting. "we can't."

Osamu pouts a little, but understands why you can't. So he just gives you a sulking look before sighing. "but we're seeing each other after so long."

Your eyes go wide. What exactly is this boy suggesting?

"still. Not here." you reply.

At that he smirks. "are you saying we can continue when we're alone?"

Your cheeks heat up at the suggestion. Yes, maybe you were hinting at continuing the make out session kiss. But you weren't going to admit that.

Rolling your eyes, you push Osamu towards the room where others were. "I'll see you on Sunday." you tell him and start to walk when a grip on your wrist brings you against a hard body.

Osamu places a kiss on your cheeks. "it's a date." he says in your ears and you try not to smile like a fool.

"sure." you act nonchalant but start laughing because you couldn't control yourself. You were excited.

Waving him goodbye, you walk towards the exit. You couldn't wait for Sunday to come sooner.

***

It was a Sunday. Atsumu didn't even know how or when he came here, but did. He did come to the store where f/n worked and now that he has come to his sense, he is regretting everything. But he still couldn't look away from her and his feet are still glued to the ground where he stood.

She was checking the aisles, Atsumu sees. Gosh, how much he missed her. How much he wanted to hold her. How much he wanted to grovel on his knees and beg for forgiveness. Anything, anything for her to look in his direction.

He contemplates whether he should enter the store or not when f/n sees him. He was in casual clothes, and boy did he look good. He looked in everything. F/n was really surprised at first, at this fact –

Atsumu Miya looked good in everything.

She knew Inarizaki had lost in the second round from the social media, and as much as she wanted to drop everything and go to console Atsumu, she didn't. She had to control herself. For her, unless Atsumu personally doesn't apologize, she wouldn't even look in his direction.

But how could she not when the blonde stood like a lost puppy in front of the store.

He was looking at her from under his lashes, eyebrows crinkled in a frown. It wasn't the angry frown, more like a helpless one. Because he was helpless.

Keeping the basket of supplies on the floor, f/n gets up from her crouched position. She slowly walks up to the entryway and the automated sliding doors open, giving her access to go outside. It was a bright morning, a contrast to the gloomy atmosphere around these two.

Atsumu didn't have to think twice. He wanted f/n back. And he was ready to beg her for that.

F/n's eyes widen when she sees him slowly kneeling on the ground. Her first instincts was to stop him and just hug him, soothe his pain. But she didn't.

Her hands curl in a fist as Atsumu started his apology. "I'm sorry." his voice was soft and shaky. "I...I'm sorry for everything."

Atsumu didn't know what else to add. Indeed, he was sorry for everything. The list was long, including what he did from the time he approached f/n during the lunch break four months back, till the time she broke up with him.

"I didn't love you when I approached you. It was a dare I had with my friends, and it was supposed to be for fun. It wasn't real for me."

Tears were already blurring f/n's eyes. His words triggered everything.

"but. At one point, it did start becoming real. And it became so real that I don't think I can live without you." Atsumu confesses at last, looking up at you with his own share of tears falling. "I love you f/n. I really do."

The sincerity in his voice was enough to make f/n break into loud sobs. She kept wiping her tears, but she couldn't stop them from falling. Not when she felt the same.

"how can I trust you? Tell me sumu, just how?" she says between sniffles, despite how she felt. Emotional investment was a real deal and she didn't want to repeat the mistake of falling deep without security, twice.

Atsumu, desperate, gets up and tries to reach for her but she takes a step back. "please..." his voice but a whisper. "I will prove to you all my life if that's what it takes, how genuine my feelings for you are. But please...don't go..."

F/n doesn't know what to do. His plead, his desperation, they were so transparent that even a stranger could tell he was telling the truth.

But...but...

Breathing through her nose to calm herself, she looks straight in his eyes. They looked like crystallized caramel, a colour so beautiful. They were looking at her with love, and what could be interpreted as fear of losing her.

Maybe she didn't have it in her to stay strong. She is crumbling. Crumbling under Atsumu's gaze. What she wouldn't give to just hug him right now.

But wait. Life's not that simple innit?

"okay." she finally says.

Atsumu's eyes widen. "what...?"

"prove it to me. Your feelings."

He couldn't believe his ears. He was almost sure she will reject him and kick him out of her life for good. He certainly didn't expect a second chance.

Wiping his eyes with the sleeves of his hoodie, he risks a step towards f/n. This time she didn't move from her spot. Taking that as a confirmation to get closer, he closes the gap and stands right in front of her.

"I want to hold your hands."

Being almost a head taller than her, f/n had to look up at the blonde boy. He had a small smile and twinkle in his eyes, almost like a kid. It was adorable.

Nodding shyly, she looks away to hide the blush creeping up her neck. Atsumu holds her fingers, as gently like a piece of china dish, and moves his hands further to fully clasp her hands with his.

He lifts them up, bringing them close to his lips when f/n finches, making him stop.

He looks at her frowning and immediately backtracks from what he was about to do. Right, he has to prove himself first.

Being the gentleman or not he is, he peeks at her with hooded eyes and asks, "may I kiss your hands ma'am?"

There was a slight hint of sarcasm in his words, a trait of Atsumu she didn't like initially but came to find it amusing overtime. They weren't filled with malice, just playfulness. At least around people he cherished. And her mouth slightly twitched at what he said.

Again, f/n just nodded, giving him consent. Smirking, Atsumu dipped his head to place two soft kisses on each of her hands before placing them back by her side. This was the most gentle he had ever been and it was shocking because he was actually trying his best from the start.

Well. He got a lifetime to prove himself. A lifetime of loving each other better, with a better start.

F/n couldn't stop herself from smiling, and Atsumu mirrored her.

This time, he was going to make it right. It's a bet.

What? Did I just finish the series?

I can't believe it's over. It was short, it was sad, it was sweet. It isn't perfect, but it's close to my heart. Because this is the first full fanfiction with a proper storyline and i–

I feel content. Content with the ending. If I'm being honest, Suna was my favourite in the whole story. He's just...wow.

Thank you everyone who read this story and supported me. Every like, comment and reblog means a lot.

I hope I return with better stories to tell about our Haikyuu boys. Till then, stay tuned.

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #osamu x reader #atsumu x reader #inarizaki #suna rintarou #haikyuu ginjima #fanfictions

[id-rather-be-an-outsider]

AOT Preference: Dogs

a/n: first time doing a preference in awhile, but I want to specifically say DO NOT EVER get an animal you are not completely prepared to care for. animals are animals and will act as animals do. if they act out that’s not on them, that’s on you. animals need to be in forever homes, and it’s your responsibility to create a suitable environment for them and to not put them in situations where they could potentially be harmed or harm others. know your animal, know their comfort zone, know their needs. don’t take an animal on unless you’re ready to parent a child that never grows up for 15+ years. be responsible pet parents!

edit: just realized I used she/her for Hange so I fixed it. apologies to all my nb folks!

masterlist

Annie Leonhart

Our girl Annie would have a Siberian Husky. Strong, agile, hyperactive and able to trek long distances, they’d be perfectly suited for one another. You would be invited to tag along, of course, but you would have to keep up, lest you fall victim to the whines of an overly dramatic husky who desperately wants you to get a move on.

Armin Arlert

English Springer Spaniel, for sure. He’d fall in love with their soft coat, and their size would make them the perfect lapdog for reading, and taking long walks outside... to do more reading. Definitely a bonus that they fit comfortably between you two in bed at night, and a bonus that their little tail looked oh so very precious when it wagged!

Bertholdt Hoover

A gentle giant himself, Bertie would end up getting a Great Dane. Unlike Reiner, he’s a lot better at managing his thoughts and feelings about their study abroad trip to Paradis gone wrong. All he needs is his gigantic lapdog and you, his adoring partner. Sometimes he’d pass out on the dog in the middle of a cuddle session, and the patient thing would stare at you with pleading eyes, waiting until Bertholdt finally woke up to escape from being stuck in his arms for another hour.

Colt Grice

Colt would get a pair of Dalmatians, one for each of you. He loves their spots, their sleek build, and their energetic, yet quiet temperaments. Picket fence and all, Colt would want the happy home life!

Connie Springer

Connie would insist on having two dogs, so they don’t get lonely when you’re away from the house. He would bring home a pair of puppies with floppy ears that were adorable - an American Foxhound and an American English Coonhound. To Connie, their howls at all hours of the day, only ceasing when he falls asleep, is absolutely glorious, but to his neighbors, it’s a sign they need to invest in earplugs. Sasha would regularly steal the pair away from you so she had a full squad to go hunting with, which you wouldn’t mind since they liked the trips and got their energy out that way.

Eren Yeager

Much like how Eren picks his friends, so too, would he pick his pets. Not caring much for pedigrees, nor where a dog came from, Eren would get a shelter mix pup, probably one that’s older and been sitting there for longer. He’d sense a kinship between them - two beings looking for peace, and they’d find it in one another. The dog being absolutely adorable in every way would only be a bonus.

Erwin Smith

Commander Erwin would have a wolf-dog hybrid. He’d find the creature out in the woods, abandoned by their mother, and see the strength in their limbs despite their fear, and their resolve to survive. He would take them on as his own and together, they’d be the perfect pair of leaders, alphas in their own rights. When you became the alpha female of the household, the little beastie took to you right away, hoping that maybe you would be the one to finally grant their wish of feeding them off your plate. Of course, you never did it, because that would be irresponsible! At least, you’d parrot what Erwin said until he was gone for the day. Then, if a few bites every week fell on the floor by some magic mistake, well, who else was gonna clean it up?

Hange Zoë

Hange would have a fox! They’d be so interested by their behavior, they’d end up testing them and doing fun (and very humane) experiments on them, like exposing them to different foods, toys and puzzles, to see how they’d react. Foxes aren’t a regular pet, and they’d be fully aware of that and even over prepared to care for them, doing research years ahead of time until they felt completely ready to take one on. Needless to say, you’d be fascinated by them, but would insist Hange keep a separate, pee-proof space for the little creature they rescued so long ago. As cute as they were, you preferred your house not be ruined by their inability to potty train.

Historia Reiss

Historia would intend to get a small dog. What she would end up with, however, would not be a small dog. She would fall in love with the warm, kindly brown eyes of a giant and adopt a Greater Swiss Mountain Dog right then and there, no hesitation. In the end, it would all work out. You couldn’t always be beside her in bed, but she was always guaranteed to have an enormous lapdog by her side at all times - her protector in the throne room, her helper on the farm, and her body pillow at night. Who needs a weighted blanket when you have a hundred-pound puppy sleeping on you?

Jean Kirstein

Jean would have a German Shepherd. He adopted them when he first wanted to join the Military Police, but after he changed his mind, he still cared enough to train his dog as militantly as he was trained. It actually helped him soften up a bit (which ended up catching your attention in the end), and who wouldn’t? With those big brown eyes and floppy ears, it’s hard to resist the urge to sweet talk... and maybe, just maybe slip one or two scraps of meat under the table. No one will notice, right? Other than you, of course, who notices everything, because Jean has never been good at hiding things from you.

Levi Ackerman

We all know Levi is a clean freak and would never want a small dog that does nothing other than bark. He’d have a Standard Poodle, probably an apricot color. They’re smart, good hunters, and most importantly, non-shedding! They also are very sweet, not unlike our Captain (even if he’s good at hiding it). The one thing he wouldn’t expect, however, would be to find a trouble maker in his home. Stolen shoes, stolen ties, stolen cravats, even - somehow they would all wind up somewhere his sweet dog seemed to frequent, but they were clever enough not to be caught, so what could he do?

Marcel Galliard

A chocolate lab! They’re sweet and adventurous, as well as protective, and are absolute cuties. Marcel would love having a fluffy companion, and would take his Labrador on long hikes every weekend.

Marco Bott

Marco loves to look forward to the future, and he’d love to experiment with a newer breed of dog. The Catahoula caught his eye with their well-muscled body, and your excitement over their coat pattern sealed the deal. When you both realized just how much energy they had, you ended up joining Annie and Marcel on their hikes and volunteering your pup for hunting trips with Sasha, so they weren’t up all night long playing.

Mikasa Ackerman

Mikasa is the only person out of this bunch that wouldn’t get a dog - she’d have two cats, at least one being a brown tabby. Mikasa’s so dedicated to her work that she wouldn’t see herself as a person with enough time for dogs, but she wouldn’t mind caring for two soft kitties who curled up on either side of you two every night, even if they somehow always managed to have their butts in your faces when you woke up. Cats have a way of doing that.

Pieck Finger

Pieck would own a Weimaraner. Curious, cute, and a standout, they both fit the mold of “dogs and owners who look alike” with their deep, inquisitive eyes and playful, loving natures.

Porco Galliard

Like Porco, Pitbulls can appear tough and menacing on the outside. Also like Porco, pitbulls are just big babies who want to be loved on. He’d likely already have one before you two fell for each other, and his pit would see the loving nature in you and start coming to you for snuggles - which might have made Porco feel left out, if he wasn’t always in the middle of it.

Reiner Braun

Pomeranian. This man has seen some shit, and what better form of comfort than you and a tiny puffball with googly eyes? Fortunately, his Pomeranian would be unusually mellow, understanding he relied on their calm to maintain his own headspace after everything that’s happened.

Sasha Braus

Sasha would get an Irish Setter and an English Setter. She would take her dogs on hunting trips to help her track down animals, and when they got home she’d sit up for a cuddle with her two favorite pups and her favorite partner, you. Cocoa after a long day of hard work is fantastic.

Ymir

Everybody knows that Ymir wouldn’t intend to have a dog. She wouldn’t want anything or anyone to depend on her, but one day, when a band of strays would come around her apartment and try to attack her, another random dog would come from out of nowhere, fight them, and chase the rest of the pack off. Upon seeing the heroic dog injured, Ymir would feel indebted and take them in. Just until they healed, of course - then, it would be off to the local shelter for them. But then, you would drop by for a visit and the dog would love all over you. And then, Ymir would keep waking up finding the dog had managed to crawl into her bed and sleep next to her every night. And then, one thing after another, Ymir’s heart would soften just enough to let the scroungy stray who saved her life have a spot, right next to the spot reserved for you, and your family of two would grow to be a family of three. And then, you would find a puppy on the side of the road and take them home to Ymir after you moved in with her, and your family of three would grow to be a family of four. And then, when the puppy grew up, Ymir would find her laying in a closet with a litter of semi-scroungy-looking pups, and your family of four would become a family of five, six, seven, eight... and so on.

Zeke Yeager

Zeke has wavy golden locks, and so do golden retrievers. They’re also both incredibly cute, sweet, and popular. Need I say more? Fine, if I have to convince you. They also both have very kissable, kind, and meddlesome faces. Don’t tell me you don’t see it there!

#jean kirstein #outsider writes #reiner braun #erwin smith #armin arlert #sasha braus #ymir #historia reiss #pieck finger #porco galliard #marcel galliard #mikasa ackerman #connie springer #colt grice #zeke yeager #eren yeager #annie leonhart #bertholdt hoover #hange zoë #levi ackerman #marco bott

[alirhi]

This is oddly fun lol

Let's see how many of these I can churn out before I get distracted or need a break! (pff. like I need an excuse to watch the show again. Despite its flaws, I really, really love TFATWS, guys)

Without further ado, let's get down to it!

Episode 2: The Star-Spangled Man

I'm pretty sure I'm on record when it comes to my undying hate for John Walker, yes? So obviously, Bucky's grumpiness 100% stays 😂

I'm not really a fan of how much emphasis they put on the shield. I can see it as a catalyst for Bucky to go confront Sam, yes, but he wouldn't keep going "shield shield shield" like a broken record. Bucky has consistently been shown to be an empathetic man. I can't believe for a second that he'd be barking at Sam about having no right to give up the shield; he'd ask why. Sam's got shit to do, so he'd get impatient and not answer.

"Why'd you give up so easily? If you were overwhelmed, I could've helped you-" "You've been ignoring me. Like now, how you're ignoring me walking away from you." "Well, you weren't texting me about this." "You think I needed your permission?!" "No, but I was right there with Steve while he was learning what it meant to be Cap. I wouldn't mind helping you get used to-" "Then go teach him." A vague gesture toward the "Cap is back" posters. Bucky makes a face. "Steve passed the mantle to you. You fought with him. You earned it. That little shit didn't." "What do you want me to do about it?" "Just tell me why, Sam. I mean it. I just wanna understand." "Not now, Buck. I've got shit to do. You see me heading for a plane right now, right?" "This is important!" "So is this." Sam tells him about the Flag Smashers, we get our silly Big Three/Gandalf conversation.

I'm sorry, but that whole jumping from the plane scene is funny as hell, and I love all the nods they added in to jokes from the press tours that brought us this show in the first place (like ripping the sleeve off his jacket lol). I don't think I'd change a single thing from the Big Three convo to Bucky joining Sam in the warehouse.

"You're doing the staring thing again." "You're staring at your watch," Bucky points out. He knows it's linked to Redwing, he's just pointing out how dumb that line is in that situation. They're there for recon lol. They're meant to be looking around.

I don't...particularly care about the other common gripe here? Meaning, "Bucky's a civilian, so why is he allowed to randomly jump in on a military mission?" Bucky's also known in this universe as an Avenger, just like Sam, so I don't think anyone would really bat an eye at him joining. Also, I have my own agenda related to Bucky's apparent freedom to walk in and out of military/government things.

What does bug me (as funny as it is) is Bucky's animosity toward Redwing. Again... Bucky is a certified nerd. Always has been. If anything, he'd be fascinated by Redwing and Sam would constantly have to slap him away because he's leaning in too close trying to see the tiny watch monitor. "I don't trust Redwing" is just old man griping "I don't trust your newfangled technology" and that... that's not Bucky.

And that "we're not assassins" dig, and then laughing when Bucky gets upset? That's not Sam. Both of these men have shown a remarkable amount of empathy, and Sam has a background in helping traumatized vets. If he cared enough about Bucky to be texting him after Steve left, he'd care enough not to make callous jokes about his time as The Winter Soldier, whether he knows the full story or not.

The fight on top of moving trucks looks cool, but makes no logical sense. I keep trying to think of a way to explain this from a story perspective, rather than a lazy "it looks cool!" filmmaking one, and I'm coming up blank. Anyone with half a brain would have pulled over, had the fight, and then taken off. It was a fun sequence, though... Eh. I'll leave it.

When Karli breaks Redwing, Bucky doesn't say "I always wanted to do that." Again, it's funny - I love the jabs about that stupid robo bird XD - but not Bucky. In my version, he smirks and says "You're so gonna regret that."

"You were kinda getting your asses kicked before we got there." Is immediately followed by Bucky staring him down and asking, "And... how did that fight end for you?" Sam adds, "I don't see them in custody. Are-are they following in a van?" He looks around, sarcastically searching for another vehicle. Walker and Hoskins grimace at each other, grudgingly conceding that point.

credit to @dailycelebs

Seeing Walker, and having to listen to his stupid pro-government rhetoric, makes Bucky think about Steve. When we cut from the Flag Smashers back to Bucky and Sam and the closeup of Bucky's pensive face, we hear 1940s Steve angrily telling 1940s Bucky about how the higher ups in the army had already written off the POWs and were going to leave them to die. "I love our country, Buck," he laments, "but what do I do when I'm not too sure anymore about the people who run it?"

"What you always do," is young Bucky's answer, "stand for what's right, not who's in power."

Perfect lead-in to the conversation about handling things themselves.

When Sam meets Isaiah, and hears his story, not only is he horrified and heartsick for him, but he also begins to see Bucky in a new light. He's seeing Bucky's face, the way he tries to hide his emotions and not make this conversation about him, and he's putting things together. He's still upset at being out of the loop, but he's seeing more of the situation than just "omg black super soldier". When Bucky says "he'd already been through enough," Sam asks quietly, "like you?"

The racist cop comes back before Bucky can answer, to arrest him for missing his appointment with Raynor.

ngl guys, I was so moved by the difference in how that cop treated Sam (before knowing he's Important) vs how he treated Bucky (knowing that the government views him as a violent, if pardoned, criminal). He approaches Sam with his hand on his gun, eager to defend Bucky; "is this guy bothering you?" Just because they're having a heated conversation. Then, when he sees that there's a warrant for Bucky, he approaches timidly, apologizes, treats him gently and politely. By "moved," btw, I don't mean "it was so sweet." I mean "this is fucking sick, and very, very realistic." White cops see a white guy and treat him with respect regardless of his actual criminal record, while being openly hostile towards an innocent black man without even knowing who he is, just because he's black. Moments like this made me applaud Spellman.

"You, too, Sam - That wasn't a request" is Sam's first sign that there's something off about Raynor.

Look, again... The couples therapy banter is funny because Sebastian and Anthony are funny, but that scene, from a storytelling and a mental health standpoint, is atrocious. Without some underlying reason behind her actions, Raynor is just a pointlessly terrible therapist.

Rather than insulting Bucky from the outset, Sam is angry with Raynor for violating Bucky's privacy by not only introducing herself as his therapist, but forcing a "couples" session without her patient's consent. With his background pre-Avenging, he knows this shit shouldn't fly. He immediately points out how unprofessional she's being.

Raynor doesn't bother listening - the fuck does she care, really? She shrugs and casually admits it's "slightly unprofessional" but proceeds anyway.

"Whatever's eating at him?" Sam scoffs. "Did you really just say that to a WWII veteran and the world's longest-serving POW with complex PTSD? Did I hear that right? I've had, maybe, like five conversations with this man since we met, and even I know he's been through some shit and-" "Sam," Bucky tries to interrupt, looking uncomfortable. With his crushing guilt, he has an easier time dealing with insults than someone coming to his defense. "No," Sam snaps. "If the HIPAA Slayer over here wants to drag me into this, she's damn well gonna hear what I have to say!" He turns back to Raynor and demands, "Is this how you've been treating him this whole time? Downplaying what he's been through and making a grown-ass man sound like a sulking teenager?" Raynor keeps her cool, but barely. Visibly frustrated and annoyed, she ignores Sam's tirade and tries to force the conversation back onto the track she wants it on. Bucky's embarrassed and doesn't know how to react to any of this, so he still makes that little "he would talk less" jab. Sam, seeing that he's not going to get anywhere with him until they're away from this bitch, glowers and plays along. We get our silly/angry banter.

After their argument with Walker, Sam finally confronts Bucky about what really happened to him.

"He meant HYDRA; HYDRA used to be my people." "Were they?" Sam asks, stopping him and looking him in the eye, not letting him look away or deflect. "Steve was under the impression that they were your captors. I was under the impression that the Wakandans spent two years deprogramming you so no one could use you the way HYDRA did ever again." "I-" Startled, not expecting that, Bucky stutters a little and admits, "Yeah, I... That's true, I guess." "You guess?" "Does it matter? Sam rolls his eyes. "I dunno, does it matter that you were a slave for most of the 20th century?" "I doubt it matters much to my victims." "HYDRA's victims," Sam corrects firmly. "Just like you." Bucky fidgets; he doesn't know what to do or say. No one since Steve has even so much as insinuated that Bucky wasn't 100% culpable for what he did while under HYDRA control. "Look," Sam sighs, "I don't particularly like you. I don't hate you, but I'm not your biggest fan." "...Thanks?" "I just need you to know where I stand-" "Yeah, got it-" "-So you know I'm not biased like Steve when I say you had no choice. I don't know your story, but I know no one flips on a dime from docile and plagued with guilt to an unstoppable killing machine and back without some serious psychological damage behind that. I'm not saying you're an innocent little bunny, but I don't think you're a monster." "Thanks," Bucky croaks, more sincerely this time, and a bit choked up. He clears his throat and looks distinctly uncomfortable as he grumbles, "but to catch these guys, we may need to talk to a monster." Sam cringes. "I was afraid you'd say that."

#sebastian stan #anthony mackie #tfatws #tfatws critical #fan ramblings #show rewrite #if i'd written it #episode 2

[cafedanslanuit]

[ k i n k t o b e r ]  d a y   12    -   masterlist

↪ character: jumin han [mystic messenger]

↪ tags/warnings: +18, female!reader, cam girl, videocall sex, mutual masturbation, porn with plot.

↪ a/n: the way i intended this to be short and turn out to be a full story lol. still, i really liked this and i can picture going back to this scenario again <3

Pop-up ads were Jumin Han’s worst nightmare.

No matter how many fancy antivirus the tech department installed on his laptop, he always managed to click somewhere he wasn’t supposed to and next thing he knew, there was a picture of an erect penis on his screen.

It usually didn’t irritate him as much, but that day he had to stay up working on a project and now he was stuck in a website he couldn’t close, no matter how many times he clicked the small “x”. He had called someone from the tech department and solicited a new laptop. It was going to take around thirty minutes for it to arrive. He poured himself a glass of wine and looked disgusted at his screen, where a blonde woman was playing with her breasts in front of the camera, that said “Live”.

Once again, he tried to close the window, but instead opened a new one instead, making him roll his eyes backwards in exasperation. When he looked at the screen again, he saw a young woman with long brown hair and big eyes looking at the screen with a small smile. It felt like she was looking right into her eyes, and he covered the camera on his laptop for a second just to make sure she wasn’t. She was wearing a white baby doll while kneeling on her bed, her bare thighs looking incredibly soft and alluring. She wasn’t touching herself but rather playing with her hair and giggling once in a while after looking at her screen. Jumin’s eyes darted to the right, where he saw comments from anonymous people appearing by the second.

As she read them, she propped up her thigh, making Jumin blush instantly. He couldn’t see her underwear, but the innocent way she had moved as if she hadn’t figured out she was showing more skin made his head spin.

His security guard knocking on his door made him come back to reality. His new laptop was probably back. Jumin quickly noted down the name of the user and the name of the website that had appeared in front of him before opening the door and taking his new laptop to finish up his work.

Watching her became a regular thing he did right before he went to bed. After a quick research he had understood what was the purpose with what the internet called cam girls, but the girl he had become so obsessed with didn’t meet all the criteria. For example, he hadn’t seen her naked once, every time she wore lingerie that covered from her breasts to her bottom. She usually just chatted with the people that left comments and sometimes would show off the clothes she was wearing. Jumin felt embarrassed at the tent that formed in his pants after she turned around to show off a cat lingerie that had a tail attached to it.

Two weeks after his discovery, he found himself again watching her. She was wearing a black lingerie set and was kneeling on her bed, a slightly distraught expression on her face.

“No, thankfully I’m okay,” she said, and her voice made Jumin’s heart flutter. “It just isn’t working anymore. A lot of smoke came out and I had to call a tow truck.”

He paid attention to the comments as they appeared and figured out it was about her car breaking down. She proceeded to explain how much she needed it to get to work and that she still didn’t have the money for it.

“So, if anyone can donate at least $5 I’d be really thankful,” she shrugged with a sheepish smile that didn’t match with the website he was watching her in.

For the first time ever, he moved his fingers to the keyboard and typed a message.

user18368: ‘How much does it take to fix your car?’

He watched her eyes go to her screen and read his comment.

“Oh, it’s about $2000. So yeah, I’m hoping I can get some here and then maybe sell some of my stuff, I don’t know,” she answered, fixing the strap on her bra.

The big golden ‘Donate’ button seemed to get bigger as he weighed his options. Jumin wasn’t an impulsive person, but seeing her sad face and the fact $2000 wasn’t a lot of money for him to begin with, he impulsively took out his credit card and filled out the form to send the money she needed.

The look of surprise on her face was enough for him to smile when she saw his donation appear on the screen. The cute way she covered her mouth with her hands as she bounced on the bed with glee was all Jumin needed to stop asking what the other people in the chat meant by calling him a ‘simp’. She thanked him, or well, she thanked user18368 for the donation and said she would call him later for his reward.

Reward?

Jumin’s eyes flickered to the stop of the screen where he saw the title of that day’s stream: ‘Emergency giveaway: 1 on 1 session! <3’.

Oh.

Not even five minutes after she finished the stream, he saw a small pop-up on the website that said ‘Sweetheart’ wanted to chat. Jumin swallowed thick and clicked on the ‘Accept’ button, not sure what he was doing. The girl appeared on his screen and waved at him, the most beautiful smile he had ever seen on her face.

“Hey! Thanks again for the car money. I owe you my life,” she joked, bouncing a little on her bed. Jumin stayed silent. His camera and microphone were off, but she was still smiling at him, and unlike the previous times, she was smiling just at him. “Hey, you don’t have to turn on your camera if you’re uncomfortable, but maybe you could turn your mic on? I’m always nervous some kid got here and I’m corrupting a minor,” she explained with a giggle. Jumin pressed on the microphone button.

“Definitely not a child.”

The girl’s eyes widened a little at the sound of his voice, her cheeks blushing at the same time. She bit her lip and then put on a smile again.

“Okay, what would you like to do? Would you like me to do something you like?”

“No,” Jumin answered quickly. “No, I-- I honestly didn’t know there was a prize behind this. I just wanted to send you the money you needed because I’ve been watching you for a while and I wanted to help out.”

“Oh, for how long?” she asked, curiously.

“A couple of weeks,” he said, embarrassed. “If that’s okay.”

“It’s totally okay,” she assured him, smiling again just the way he was starting to fall for. “I don’t really do a lot of shows in public, but sometimes I agree to do other… stuff in private sessions like this,” she said, playing with her hands.

“Like what?” he asked, intrigued.

“Like… well, sometimes I tell them what I would like someone to do to me. Sometimes I play with myself a bit,” she said, her fingers stroking the hem of her cleavage. Jumin felt himself getting hard at every move she made. “Or I watch them touch themselves. But if you don’t want to turn on your camera it’s really okay. I can tell you what to do.”

“What to do?”

“Uh-huh,” she hummed. “For example, I’d like you to lower your pants right now and touch yourself over your underwear. That is, if you’re wearing any,” she added with a cheeky smile.

Jumin looked at his locked bedroom door, not sure what to do. He had never been one to enjoy these kinds of situations, but there was something about her that drew him to oblige to her every word. She was waiting for him patiently, her innocent face a sharp contrast to what she was asking him to do. Still, he started touching himself over his pajama bottoms, his cock twitching at the attention.

“Mmmm, are you by any chance a little hard?” her voice rang, making him look at the screen again.

“Yeah,” he muttered. Jimin felt dirty, he felt like someone was going to catch him doing something indecorous, but he also couldn’t stop himself from complying to her orders.

“I always take that as a compliment,” she smiled, sticking her tongue out playfully. “Can you touch yourself directly now?”

Jumin did as told, freeing his cock and starting to pump it. He let out a groan as he made contact with his erection and right when he was about to apologize, he saw her biting her lips.

“I like your voice,” she commented, playing with her black babydoll. Jumin kept pumping himself, feeling somewhat proud she was reacting to his voice as well. “Now, I don’t want any fast movements. Just slow, like this,” she said, moving her hand on the screen.

He imitated her hand movements with his own, imagining for a second she was there with him instead of behind a screen.

“Fuck,” he hissed. He wanted to go faster, but her hand was still moving slowly and he wouldn’t be the one to do anything but what she asked him to. He saw her biting his lip when he talked again.

“Okay. Now slowly circle your tip with your thumb. But softly, as if it was a small lick,” she winked. She waited for him to do as she said, his breathing becoming more ragged with every second that went by.

Jumin’s deep grunts were making her squirm on her seat. How could someone’s voice be that attractive? She wished he turned on his camera, but knew better than to pressure him to do so. Closing her eyes, her right hand travelled to her front, underneath her lingerie and started rubbing her clit. She let out a soft mewl, her middle finger drawing circles around her clit, making her see stars.

“Keep pumping yourself, a little faster now” she said, trying to ignore how much she was panting at her own ministrations. “But please, let me hear you more.”

With one hand, he brought his laptop closer to him, so she could listen to his voice better. Jumin was never one to do these things. He had been thought better, he knew the proper way to act with a lady, but… the way she was slightly bouncing on the bed as she touched herself had caused a short circuit inside his head.

“Keep going, keep going,” she whispered, a moan escaping her lips. She parted her legs and even if he couldn’t see anything, the sole sight of her hand rubbing against her while her face was contorted in pure pleasure was enough to send Jumin over the edge. He grunted as he did so, staining his stomach with his release, as his eyes were still glued on the screen.

She kept touching herself, the sound of Jumin’s orgasm obviously affecting her, as her back arched as she kept her hand moving rapidly.

A dark idea crossed Jumin’s mind as he saw her getting closer, an idea he might not have acted on unless he was sure she couldn’t see him, like in that moment.

“Keep going,” Jumin instructed her, his voice a bit hoarse as he was just coming back to his senses. She opened the eyes and looked at the screen, her cheeks bright red, and nodded. In a matter of seconds, she was orgasming in front of him, and Jumin thought he had never seen a woman more beautiful than her. Even as she broke down, her face looked pristine, innocent, and the way she hadn’t even undressed herself or seen him for her to come undone was making his head spin.

She inhaled deeply as she tried to regulate her breathing, a shy smile as she looked at the front camera.

“Sorry, I-- Your voice is just… really hot,” she muttered, looking down at her hands.

“It's okay. You’re very enticing yourself,” he replied, wishing he was able to pull her on his lap and hold her close after sharing such a moment. 

She thanked him again for the money and he shrugged it off. The little wave she did to him as she said goodbye stayed on his mind for the rest of the week.

---

It was like everyone he met knew what he had done one week ago. Jumin knew they didn’t, but that didn’t help from feeling stressed whenever someone looked at him for a second longer than needed. The girl with the long brown hair and big eyes was living on his mind, twisting and twirling the red strings he had there, only managing him to confuse him even more. He had avoided her stream the last few days, wanting to desintoxicate himself, but quickly learnt it wasn’t possible.

“We’re here,” Jaehee said, as Driver Kim stopped the car. It was supposed to be a short balance meeting after the last RFA party, and taking into consideration everyone’s schedules, they had agreed to meet at a cafe downtown. Jaehee had assured everyone the meeting shouldn’t be longer than half an hour, but that their presence was necessary as she needed everyone to sign some documentation for the donations.

When he entered the coffee shop with Jaehee, he saw Saeyoung, Zen and Yoosung were already there. After muttering ‘good afternoon’, she sat on his seat and watched idly as Saeyoung was teasing Yoosung over something he didn’t quite hear.

“Now that the CEO-in-line is here, we can finally order,” Zen said, rolling his eyes at him. Jumin ignored him, not having the energy to respond to that. The actor called over one of the waitressed, who quickly approached their table.

“Hi! Are you ready to order now?” she asked in a cheerful tone.

Jumin didn’t even have to look up to know whose voice he had just heard.

#mystic messenger #jumin han #kinktober #kinktober 2020 #jumin han x mc #jumin x mc #mysme jumin #mm jumin #mystic messenger headcanons #mystic messenger imagines #mysme headcanons #mysme imagines #allie after hours

[jetaime-jespere]

Right Where You Left Me Part 2

“I wonder what two people do in a hotel room when no one is watching.”

Rated M for smut/darker themes

April | Fourteen Months Ago

“We’re looking for two men, both about forty years old,” Aaron says calmly, surveying the small crowd of detectives that have gathered around them in the cramped Newark Police Station. They’re listening intently; two more bodies were found early that morning and the clock is now ticking faster. “They’re most likely friends. They’ve known each other for years, it’s likely they’ve been at this a long time in one way or another.”

Beside him, Emily nods assuredly as she rests her hands on her hips. Ever since he discreetly passed the coffee to her in the hotel lobby, she’d been the picture of focus, any of the doubt he’d seen the night before gone from her face. He knows her well enough to know it’s probably just an act - the art of compartmentalization at work - but it’s good enough for right now. It has to be. “Keep in mind both are alpha males, dominant personalities. This is rare in duos like this, but it makes them all the more dangerous.”

“They know the area well,” Dave adds. “Which suggests they’re local. Been around awhile. Probably born in Jersey. They probably fit right in. You wouldn’t give them a passing thought.”

“What we do know is they have no intention of stopping.” Morgan rounds out the rest of the profile. Behind him is an evidence board full of photos and hastily scribbled notes and diagrams. It’s only 10 AM yet it feels like much later. They’ve been at this for several hours already with no end in sight, the sure sign of another draining day. “Which is why we need to catch them at their own game.”

“What do you have in mind?” The weary, yet brusque Newark detective asks, his slight New York accent heavy.

“They operate at night and essentially go dark during the day. We have to get creative with this one,” Morgan reasons. “If not, we’re never going to find them.”

“I hope you’ve got something in mind.”

June | Present Day

“Maybe I’ll have that drink now.” Emily frees her arm from under his grasp with a well-timed jerk,  reaching for the untouched wine glass on the table. It shakes in her hand as she takes a long sip, and Aaron prepares for it to slide from her fingers and shatter all over the table. It doesn’t, and he breathes a sigh of relief. The less attention they bring to themselves, the better. He doesn’t dare turn around to see if the others are watching. By now, they’re probably more than aware of his vacant seat at the table, sensing his absence around the dance floor.

From her place beside him, Emily pushes the glass between her hands, stares at the floral centerpiece. She’s nervous, he assesses. But then again, so is he. Aaron has thought of this moment often, what it would be like to see her again. What he (she) would say, how she (he) would react. But then, it was nothing more than a wishful fantasy. Now it’s real; he has one chance he can’t screw up. “Are you lonely there? All by yourself?” It’s one of the many thoughts that’s plagued him in the long nights he’s lain awake, staring at the ceiling for hours at a time. The thought of her alone, some four thousand miles across the Atlantic Ocean, is never far from his mind. He’s known her long enough to know she appreciates some level of anonymity, that she’s always been fiercely independent. Yet it doesn’t change the fact that she’s bearing the burden alone, something that seems cruelly unfair.

“Lonely isn’t the word I’d use.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Let me ask you, Aaron. Are you lonely? Have you moved on?”

“Moved on?” He stares at her in disbelief. “What do you think, Emily? You up and left days after we buried him. Things aren’t … things aren’t the same now. None of us have just moved on, you know. We didn’t just lose him. We lost you too.”

She regards him for a moment, as if she’s never considered the question before, and not exactly sure how to answer it. “London is where I belong now,” Emily says coolly, swirling the wine around in the glass. The dark red liquid clings to the side; remnants of her lipstick stain the outer rim. “It’s for the better, anyway. For all of us.”

“If it’s where you belong, if that’s what you think, then what’s your third reason? You only gave me two.”

Her arms fold over her chest in defense. The wine does little to settle the incessant, taunting voice she’s heard in her head since she stepped into Heathrow airport some twenty-four hours ago. Emily prepared herself on the plane for this; she knew exactly what coming here would entail, every past memory and nightmare it would conjure, from the moment she hung up the phone after hearing Dave’s happy news. But there was no convincing her otherwise and she’d filled out the RSVP card in her telltale slanted handwriting, putting it in the mail without hesitation. A smile had crossed her face when she imagined what Dave’s reaction might be when he opened the small envelope. On the passable days (there really aren’t good days anymore), she can picture them together, some semblance of peace settled between them. They have one another, one of the only things that gives her any comfort these days.

Emily hears Clyde’s words in her mind over again, louder and louder. “I don’t think this is a good idea,” he’d said gently, on more than one occasion, most recently a few nights ago. She’d called him in the early hours of the morning, yanked from the clutches of another nightmare. Of course he’d answered on the first ring, already reaching for his jacket and scarf, and a short time later, Emily heard the twist of a key in her apartment door. She took a few deep breaths when she heard him shut and bolt it behind him, temporarily soothed by the sound of water filling a glass and shoes scratching against the floor. When he pushed the door to her bedroom open, few words were said between them. She’s stopped apologizing for calling; he’s stopped asking if she’s okay. It’s a ritual they have, albeit an unspoken one - she calls, he comes, and they spend a few hours piecing back together what will only fall apart again within a matter of time.

“You really think going back is a good idea?” Clyde flipped through the television channels once she calmed down, changed, and the sweaty sheets were replaced with fresh ones. He had the remote in one hand and a glass of scotch in the other, his feet propped up on the foot of her bed. He settled on a rerun of a sitcom, checked his watch, and rubbed his hand across his face.

“I have to,” Emily said simply, tearing at the ragged skin around her fingernails.

“Why?” He began, yet he’d made the face that told her exactly how he felt about the whole situation.

“I promised Dave years ago I would.” It’s not nearly as convincing as she wanted, but not a complete lie. Unfortunately, Clyde saw right through her reticence.

“That’s not the only reason.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“That you miss him might be a good start.” Clyde’s casual, unflinching honesty was always one of her favorite things about him. The ability to be rational and objective in his assessment of her time and time again, yet cautious in his approach. It’s a balance that has been learned over the years, mastered in the last few months. “That maybe you made a mistake and you’re too afraid to admit it.”

“I didn’t make a mistake. But of course I miss him, Clyde. I loved him.”

He’d spun the glass in his hands and laughed for the first time since finding her in bed a screaming mess. “I believe you have your tenses incorrect, darling. Aren’t you a linguist?” His knack for picking up on the most subtle things never ceased to amaze her.

“There are some things,” she began slowly, counting her breaths like her therapist had taught her months ago. “That I never got a chance to say. That I couldn’t say once everything … you know.”

“And you’re willing to put yourself through hell again, for the off chance you work up the courage to say the things you never got to?”

“Yes.”

Clyde nodded with a deep sigh, accepting defeat.  It’s nothing he hasn’t heard before in the last year. They’ve done this before; they will again soon. “Why don’t you try and get some rest? We have to be up in -” he checked his watch again. “Four hours.”

Emily groaned; she’s no stranger to the long days that often follow nights like this. She’d long stopped fighting Clyde on his demand that she attempt to rest. Eventually she’d succumb to the exhaustion that blanketed her mind, but only after she relived it all, just one more time.

...

Emily has a therapist in London - an older woman who oddly enough resembles her mother in looks and mannerisms. But she’s nothing like her, and for reasons she can’t explain, Emily felt an appreciation for her instantly. She doesn’t try to make her forget - she’ll never forget. But what she does is try to help her forgive, mostly herself. She’ll never do that, either. How could she, after it all went wrong? The other part of the process, as she’s learned through many agonizing sessions of recounting it all - the events of that day, the ones leading up to it - was everything that wasn’t said, and the price she paid.

Seeing them (him) hurts as much as the thought it would. Of course, their last conversation before it all fell apart had been an argument, one that will haunt her for the rest of her days. She’ll never be able to take it back; the damage has already been done. |

“Tell me,” he says calmly, as the music around them ceases. “Tell me why you’re here.”

“Unfinished business,” Emily tells him. “There are things I never -”

She’s interrupted by the band starting up yet again, along with the invitation for couples to join Dave and Krystall on the floor as the first dance comes to an end. Emily pointedly looks away, completely perturbed by the idea of it, yet it gives him an idea. He can’t let her slip away again. Not yet. “Do you dance?” Aaron asks, with a boyish grin that elicits the slightest knowing smile from her. She remembers.

“Not much, these days. There isn’t much of an occasion now, you know.”

“But you did,” Aaron forces a smile that hurts a little more than it should. “At least you would dance with me.”

Read the rest on ao3

#hotchniss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotchniss fanfiction #Aaron x emily #hotchniss fic #angst and pain #TW for major character death #bring your tissues

[petri808]

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33-Epilogue

Neither Lucy nor Natsu sat through the closing arguments, but according to Gajeel the defense stood firmly on their case for insanity. Touka’s attorney argued that his client suffered from a disorder that should put her in a hospital for treatment, not a jail cell, and not only that, but the so-called victims in the case drove her to do what she did. It was a very risky move to blame the victims. Of course, the prosecution countered that not only did Touka not suffer from any condition but that this was a simple case of jealousy gone wrong. Natsu and Lucy were innocent victims of a selfish woman who tried to kill them. Period, and for that she should go to prison for the maximum sentence allowed.

The prosecutor implored to the jurors heartstrings. “You saw the effects that Ms. Shiromajyo caused to her victims. The tears shed on the stand and the genuine fear in Ms. Heartfilia’s testimony as she recounted the events in question. Ladies and gentlemen, this young woman stared death in the face and watched her boyfriend almost get killed by the defendant. They had to fight to survive! Ms. Heartfilia and Mr. Dragneel have experienced something that no one should ever go through.” He gestured at the timeline board facing them. “Ms. Shiromajyo stalked multiple people over the course of several years to reach her goal, intimidating people that really had nothing to do with her. Ms. Shiromajyo paid a person to kill Ms. Strauss, threatening and intimidating her. And most of all, ultimately took this whole situation into her own hands when all of her efforts didn’t work out. She is a danger to society. I urge you, the jury to give her victims the peace of mind that she’ll be off the streets in a cell getting the treatment that she needs, and the punishment she deserves.”

It was a nerve wracking time for the victims as they waited outside of the court room for the jury to deliberate. Lucy and Natsu stayed in a side room with the prosecutor along with their closest friends and family there to support them. The prosecutor assured them that they’d done their best and the odds were in their favor. But of course, it only took one hold out to cause a mistrial, and Lucy didn’t know if she could go through this again. She was already unhappy that even if convicted, Japan’s sentencing structures were not as stringent as other countries.

The jury deliberated for four hours before reaching a verdict pronouncing Touka guilty of all charges. Upon hearing the guilty decision, Lucy and Natsu slipped back into the court room to hear the final disposition.

“Rise Ms. Shiromajyo.” The judge then read the decision to the standing defendant. “You have been found guilty by this court of two counts of attempted murder that caused injury. One count of kidnapping for profit. And three counts of intimidation. Do you have any last statement to make to the court before I render sentencing?”

Touka hung her head as if resigned to her fate. “Yes...” Surprisingly, to all those in the courtroom, she apologized for her actions. “I see now how much pain I caused to everyone because I couldn’t control myself and I hope one day they’ll forgive me for it.”

But her words of contrition were too little, too late. The judge sentenced Touka to the maximum of the highest offense, which was 15 years with work, but instead of the work condition, imposed a special circumstance that Touka be ordered to undergo mandatory psychological treatment while in custody and to adhere to any treatments and medications prescribed for her own good.

“Ms. Shiromajyo,” the judge spoke directly to the woman. “You’ve apologized at the end, but I hope you truly feel that way. Based on all of the evidence presented in court, your actions were clearly towards a one-sided love affair with a man who wanted nothing to do with you, and for that you tried to punish an innocent woman who got in your way. I do not believe, and the jury agreed, that you do not suffer from a legal defense of mental defect, however you should spend the time in prison to get your mind right again, so that when you re-enter society in the future, you’ll no longer suffer from whatever emotional problems brought you here in the first place. You are very lucky that I cannot under the law sentence you to concurrent sentences for every single charge. Bailiff, take custody of the prisoner. This case is adjourned.”

As the final gavel bang echoed in the court room, Natsu and Lucy who’d made it in time to hear it all, broke down in tears and elation as the court room erupted in cheers around them. A rarity for the poised population. This case was certainly anything but common for Japan, especially because the perpetrator was a woman and journalists had kept the public up to date with its progress. A lot of people were affected by this case personally, but the fear of what Touka had done rang cold for onlookers too. For the public, the idea that someone you may know could harbor ill will and do something this heinous was a scary proposition.

While the case was now over, Lucy knew her own struggles with anxiety were not, despite the tiny relief she’d felt in hearing the words guilty. She’d made it through the trial by sheer determination, but the experience had set her back in her progress. Reliving all the worst events and being grilled by the defense had re-traumatized her. Not all the way regressed, but the nightmares were back anew, starting immediately after her recall testimony.

It wasn’t just the old memories that haunted Lucy, but a new, troubling thought brought out during that testimony. When the defense attorney tried to make her think she was just as bad as Touka, there was a point when she thought... was it true? And the more she pondered, the worst the correlation became despite her loved ones conviction that she was nothing like the woman. Because... why not? If Touka’s deluded mind really believed she was protecting what was hers, well isn’t that the same logic Lucy used to defend herself and Natsu? Then there was the rage she’d felt. Was the attorney, right? If Natsu hadn’t stopped her from beating the woman, would she have killed Touka? Did that mean she had a killer instinct too?

All the publicity surrounding the trial didn’t help one bit. Just trying to get out of the court room after the verdict had been a complete circus of cameras flashing and microphones being shoved in the couples faces wanting their opinions of the verdict. Oh, how Lucy wanted to scream in their faces! How do they think they’d feel?! Yes, it felt great to be vindicated, but 15 years for almost killing them? Where were their assurances that when Touka was released, she wouldn’t pick right back up where she’d left off and hunt them down?

All these irrational thoughts fueling the new regression were different from before. Lucy didn’t feel as anxious. She was a little depressed, but now she was also— angry.

When she arrived at her therapy session without Natsu, Lucy sat on the couch facing the woman with her arms crossed. The therapist was quick to note the way in which she was holding her poise because it wasn’t a comforting arm cross, but a firm one. The muscles in her forearms were tense along with the tight lipped and brows furrowed expression gracing Lucy’s face.

“Well, this is certainly new,” the woman put her notebook down as she spoke. “Something has changed, shall we talk about it?”

Lucy’s hands clenched firmly as her eyes look away slightly. “I had a small argument with Natsu this morning.”

“I get the impression it wasn’t small.”

“Okay! It was a big fight! Happy?!” Lucy’s arms unfurled and gesticulated. “I don’t even know why it got out of hand, but it did.”

“Tell me what happened and let’s figure it out together.”

“Tch,” Lucy crossed her arms again and looked away. “I woke up from a nightmare. He started comforting me like he al—ways does, and I told him to stop. But he didn’t.”

“Why’d you tell him to stop?”

“I don’t know... I was just, irritated.”

“With him?”

“Yes... No— both, I don’t fucking know! Just pissed off, okay?! I was just angry and didn’t wanna be bothered!”

“I see... and how did Natsu react?”

“He, well, um,” Lucy’s shoulders dropped a bit. “He just said okay, I’ll give you space if you want it and left the bedroom. And we haven’t spoken since then.”

“It sounds like Natsu respected your wishes to back off. But why is that making you so angry?”

The therapists question brought instant tears pooling in Lucy’s eyes. She knew why, but she didn’t know why, and holding it in was tearing her apart. But she also didn’t know how to articulate all of the random thoughts plaguing her in a way that made sense. So, at that moment she just broke. Through fitful sobs the cacophony of broken, fragmented thoughts spewed out in no logical manner. Lucy just spoke every word and sentence that came to mind as the therapist sat quietly listening.

This was her first session since the trial had ended, so all of the wounds were painfully fresh. Shouldn’t she be happy it was over? They were free for now and it was time to move forward but all she could think about were the things the attorney had said. And that made her angry with herself. Lucy’s always thought she was so much stronger, yet this experience or rather the effects left her feeling lost and broken, and weak. Even more infuriating for her, she knew these thoughts were completely irrational! It’s one thing to not understand, it’s another to know how stupid it sounded and not be able to fight back against it. Weak. That’s what it made her feel. Stupid and weak for losing herself. They may have won against Touka, but Touka had taken something away and Lucy feared she’d lost it forever.

Who she was.

The therapist moved over to the couch and hugged tightly to a sobbing Lucy, stroking her hair and cradling her head. Comforting in silence allowed the blonde to just cry, as hard as she needed to and release everything that had been held inside where it shouldn’t stay. When the tears slowed, and Lucy’s breathing had the normalized, the therapist spoke softly.

“You’re not broken, Lucy, and you’re not dumb. You’re rightfully in pain after everything you’ve experienced, and that’s okay too.”

“How is that okay?” Lucy sniffled. “It shouldn’t be okay!”

“It’s not fair what you had to endure but being upset and feeling pain because of it means you’re human. Even the anger is a good feeling right now.”

Lucy snorts an annoyed laugh at such a ridiculous sounding statement. Anger being, okay?!

“There are positives we can take from this.”

Again, Lucy huffs. “Yeah, right. That makes a lot of sense.”

The therapist pulls back and settles into a more professional pose to continue. “Your anger means you care. Think about it, if you didn’t care, you wouldn’t get angry, right?”

“I guess...”

“In all these months, this is the first time I am seeing a deep passion coming from you. Lucy you aren’t really lost, and this anger are those feelings screaming ‘I’m still here!’ You can use that same energy to push forward.”

“But what about Natsu?” Lucy’s eyes cloud up. “I think I really made him mad a-and I don’t want to lose him.”

“Did he come with you today?”

“Yeah, he’s in the waiting room.” Lucy mumbled through a frown. “But I think he just came cause he felt obligated.”

The therapists eyes softened along with her tone. “I have a feeling that’s not the case. He might feel hurt and confused right now, but I’m sure he still loves you deeply. Maybe we should bring him in here and talk things over? That way I can help you through it.”

Lucy paused for a moment before nodding weakly. “I’d like that.”

The therapist brought Natsu into the room and as soon as he saw the puffy red eyes and Lucy’s disheveled appearance immediately stumbled over and hugged onto her with tears of his own flowing down, apologizing over and over for upsetting her that morning.

Although Lucy stiffened up at first when he’d hugged her in fear of what he might say, his words instead stunned her. All along she’d felt the fight was her fault, not his. She’d been the bitch to him and now his pain brought her tears back along with a loss of her anger. “It’s not your fault,” she hugged him back. “I was angry with myself and took it out on you. That wasn’t fair.”

“But I shouldn’t have walked away like I did.”

“No,” Lucy exhaled, “you did the right thing. I... I needed something to wake me up.”

Natsu pulled back in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Lucy smiled weakly. “Coming here mad, I couldn’t hide it so she made me talk about it. Now I see how that needed that to happen and I feel a lot better because of it. I was just worried you’d hate me for the way I acted.”

“I could never hate you,” Natsu smiled and cupped Lucy’s cheeks. “I told you, you’re stuck with me.”

By that point, the therapist had gone back to her own chair and with the session almost over for that day, addressed the couple together. “Lucy right now I think you are at a very good point in your progress. Your anxiety had gotten better, the depression is still there, but it’s not as debilitating as it was before, so now it’s time to take the next step in the healing process. You’d mentioned wanting going back to school and the next semester starts in a month. Perhaps it’s time to consider going back?”

“I-I don’t know if I could handle full time...”

“Maybe reach out to the school and see if they’ll work with you on a modified schedule?”

“I guess I could...”

“And I’ll help you,” Natsu added on as he squeezed Lucy’s hand. “They’ve been really supportive so far.”

Lucy let out a long exhale. “Okay. I’ll give it a shot.”

“I’ve got another suggestion too,” Natsu added. “If you get angry, you could take it out with a physical sport or something.”

“That’s actually a good outlet,” the therapist agreed. “Is there anything you’re interested in?”

“Um...” Lucy thought about for a couple minutes. “I thought about taking self-defense classes.”

“That would be cool! Maybe we can go together?”

“I’d really, really like that.” And first time in a long time, Lucy truly meant it.

#nalu #nalu au #nalu fan fic #nalu fan fiction #Natsu dragneel #Lucy heartfilia #Natsu x lucy #stangers on a train #ch 31

[sasa-gay-yo]

Maybe (Levi Ackerman x Female!Reader)

Request / Summary: I was wondering if you could write about female y/n being taller than Levi (he's 5'2" and y/n is 5'7"). Sharp, rational mind, she's the new quartermaster and in charge of the supplies... she was asked to cut unnecessary orders. So she terminates the tea supply contract... Levi's not happy and confronts her about it. It takes several arguments to convince her to conclude a new tea supply contract... VERY annoying... but damn, he likes her wit.

Timeline: Season 1 - 2 ish 

Warnings: some swearin’

Art Credits: AoT (I think?)

“Budgets are very important to adhere to when you’re trying to fight against a never-ending force of titans, Captain Levi. I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do.” You sing-songed those last words, finding happiness in the sheer annoyance that graced his face after. This was power.

“And who gave you the order to cut my tea supply?” His hands turned into fists, keeping his distance so he didn’t have to stare up at you. You noticed this and made sure to take a few steps forward to look down at him. On an everyday basis, you were below him in rank, but this situation made you feel so powerful. Erwin had approved this budget right in front of him, so it was funny to see him so upset over his precious tea that he, himself signed away.

“I did. Does your tea have the same ability to feed the entirety of the Scouts for an extra week? No, it does not. It was either bread from all, or tea for one. I think we all will appreciate your sacrifice, Captain.” He grit his teeth and you could see, physically, how irritate he was with you. While it was a bit scary, your new status as quartermaster made your training sessions almost disappear with how busy you’d become. He couldn’t discipline you if you weren’t able to be present. 

Also, it wasn’t like your decision was wrong. If he went to Commander Erwin to talk about it, he’d probably say the same thing. He definitely knew that. That’s why he was spending so much time here arguing with you, rather than going directly to the higher ups. You smirked at that thought.

“You were asked to cut unnecessary orders, Cadet. The tea supply is a necessity.” You held up your clipboard to his face and he glared at the paper as you used your pencil to explain to him the budget.

“Your tea supply cost the same amount as three bags of flour and yeast. As I said before, food is a necessity, Captain. I can’t, in good conscious, let my fellow comrades go hungry while you have a cup of tea every night. Also, it’s Quartermaster (Y/L/N) now, hence the ability for me to cut your tea supply from the shop in Mitras. If you’re able to find me a cheaper and closer shop to buy from, then all means… Captain.” He didn’t like the way you sneered his name and he wanted to make you run laps out in the hot sun instead of standing under this tent causing him mental anguish, yet he couldn’t think of an argument against yours. He just wanted his tea. No, he needed his tea. The caffeine was what allowed him to stay up and not fall into his nightmare’s grasp. The caffeine was what allowed him to function after a night of no sleep. He needed to convince you to put that back on the list, even if that meant the brats didn’t have bread for a week.

“You’re dismissed, Cadet,” he said, walking away from where he came to find you. You laughed at his actions when you thought he couldn’t hear you, seeing how ridiculous the Captain was acting after not getting his specific and expensive artisan teas. You saved so much money from cutting the export taxes alone, that it was worth the little grumpy short man and maybe a few more laps around HQ. However, you would apologize to the new cadets who were definitely going to get the brunt of his anger. If it got really bad, you could just give him a bit of your “commoner’s” tea.

The next time he confronted you was two days later at dinner. You didn’t know he was behind you, but you were telling the new cadets all about Captain Levi’s attitude. They were complaining how harsh he was towards them, and the older Scouts, like yourself, were all recollecting stories of your first time meeting the Captain.

“The first time I interacted with Captain Levi, I flirted with him and shorty made me run laps until sunset. He was probably just flustered, you know. Captain Shorty doesn’t know how to react to pretty women, I guess.” You didn’t notice the kids freeze up when they saw who approached behind you. You just kept on going, probably digging yourself in a bigger and bigger hole as Levi stood behind you, arms crossed and ever so irritated.

“One time when he was disciplining me I reac-”

“Quartermaster (Y/L/N), unless you want to run laps again till sunrise, I suggest you stop telling such ludicrous stories to the new cadets.” You smirked, turning around with the cup of tea you had in your hand. You’d taken the liberty of using your own stash, as a drinker of the liquid yourself, and now you were going to flaunt it in front of him. You took a sip before talking back. 

“Captain Levi, I didn’t see you there! Do you want to talk about your tea supplies with me? I have a meeting with Commander Erwin next week about next months orders…” You trailed off, sipping at your tea, but not hiding your smirk. You now had something over the Captain that was worth far too much for him to annoy you or dish out a punishment. He knew that. If he made you run into the sunset, the tea was going with you. There would be no mention of it at your next meeting with Erwin. Gripping his fists behind his back, he made sure his face was that normal, annoying look when glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

“No, (Y/L/N), I just came here to tell you that I do, in fact, know how to handle pretty women. That’s why I made you run. Have a nice dinner.” The new cadets snickered behind you as you gripped the teacup hard. 

Oh no, forget about dangling it in front of his head. There was no way you were going to let him have it after he insulted you in front of everyone like that. You turned around and glared at Jean who was laughing the loudest out of the others. That tea was gone now.

You let him know it, too.

As you were walking out of the Mess Hall, you made an effort to stop at the officer’s table in front of the Commander. He smiled up at you while Levi’s glared was evident to your left.

“Commander, do you have time tomorrow or the next day to push up the supply meeting? I think that with the winter coming soon, shipping lines are going to be cut off by impending snow. Ordering a week earlier would be most beneficial, especially since our supplies are already dwindling.” Erwin agreed with you, noting that this foresight is why he assigned you to the position that was vacated by the other Quartermaster (who was killed by a titan).

“I can meet with you tomorrow after lunch, Quartermaster (Y/L/N). Just come to my office!” You smiled back at him and turned your attention to Levi. As you walked by, you mumbled something under your breath, but you knew he heard you. Payback was served to the cocky man you hated ever since you stepped foot on the Scout HQ grounds.

“You’re never getting your tea back, Levi.”

And at the meeting with Erwin, you did just that. He agreed with your plans completely, signing off on it without any protests. You would be excused from training the next day, and would be riding into Trost to set up the order with Reeve’s Company. You might even make a day out of it, needing a fresh haircut and maybe a relaxing stroll through Trost. Then, Erwin called out to you before you could walk out through his office door.

“Oh, by the way, (Y/F/N), Captain Levi will be personally accompanying you to Trost tomorrow.”

-       

You hadn’t talked at all. You just sat next to each other in the cart while the horses pulled you along towards Trost. He made you do all the work too. You hitched up both horses, tied them to the cart, and you were now holding the reigns to make sure they stayed on the pebbled path. He just sat there the whole time is his normal position, one leg up and blank expression. It made you extremely annoyed and he could feel the anger radiate off of you as he sat, which made him smirk. Getting the upper hand on you was one thing that Levi found recently brought him joy.

“Permission to speak freely, Captain?” You had enough. He wasn’t shocked at your request, but he wasn’t sure he’d let that upper hand go. If you said something out of line, he’d jump at the chance to punish you… but he allowed it because he was curious. Besides, he was excited to see what useless insults left your lips today.

“Permission granted.”

“Why the fuck are you here?” It almost surprised him, the tongue you had on you, but he also knew the cadets you were friends with. You’d even taken some of the new ones under your wing, Jean and Connie. Levi has punished them various times for their filthy mouths, and he’s heard it millions of times, but never towards him. You should feel honored that he let you say that to him.

“I just wanted to take a trip, Cadet. Besides, a woman shouldn’t be travelling by herself in a world like this.” You gave him an annoyed look and rolled your eyes. Again, you should feel honored he’s gracing you like this. If any cadet did that to him, he’d kick them off the cart right away and discipline them. Again, he was just curious.

“I thought you didn’t give a damn that I was a woman, Levi.” He put his arms behind his head, closing his eyes. You were making this too easy for him. It was when your anger got the best of you that your insults were sloppy and uncalculated. He’d also made the same assessment when it came to your fighting. Perhaps that’s why he’d always insult you before fighting drills, knowing he could get the upper hand. Still, it was going to an easy day for him if you acted like this. 

“With a mouth like that, how could I consider you one, (Y/F/N)?” You scoffed, but a thought popped into your head. He said speak freely, so you were going to do just that. You couldn’t let him win, not when you were going to be stuck with him all day.

“With height like that, how could I consider you a man, Shorty?” You felt him freeze next to you, now instantly regretting his permission. You knew how bad he wanted to kick you, and the tone of his voice hardened.

“Permission rescinded. Say something like that again and you’ll be locked up for insubordination and be punished.”

“You know I don’t mind punishment, Captain. Especially with you.” He scoffed, closing his eyes again and making sure that you didn’t see his flush. How nasty was this woman he was sitting next to? You just laughed at his reaction. When you were a new cadet, you gained the brunt of Levi’s punishments, simply because you didn’t give him the legitimacy the others did.

Everyday, you would find some way to make your presence his problem. At first, it was openly flirting in front of him, trying to get some reaction, only to be punished by running or cleaning. Next, it was besting your partners, just so you would have to fight him. Levi usually didn’t struggle to fight with new cadets, but you would give him a run for his money. You never won, but you’d get so devilishly close that you knew it slowly frustrated him. The last thing would be questioning his orders, which he hated the most. While you knew to never do it out in the field, it was fair game during training. Why should we hold our ODM gear this way when you don’t, Captain? I don’t think that’s the best formation, Captain, why did you choose that? He would physically punish you then, which gave you fuel. Perhaps it was the way he led others with insult, or the fact everyone bowed to him without question that pushed you to never listen. Slowly and surely, you were wreaking havoc in his mind, but nothing permanent to really stick it to him.

Then, you were given the Quartermaster position by Commander Erwin. As insubordinate you would be to Levi, you knew who and when to rub up to others. Besides, you liked the other officers. Erwin discovered your experience with supply work and inventory at your family restaurant, so he put the job up to you. When you saw that Captain Levi had personally requested to break the rules and order five personal items instead of one, you knew it was your turn to punish him. You didn’t know how much joy it would bring you to erase the tea order off of the inventory chart until he came marching into the supply tent.

“You would be a better soldier if you listened to authority, Cadet.” It seemed the only way he could recover with you was to insult you back into submission. His voice was softer then, calmer and more composed: normal. To you, he seemed to be more serious, but it made you roll your eyes again. You didn’t care if he caught you.

“I am a good soldier, Captain. You don’t put worth on my fighting skills, but on my ability to listen to you.”

“If you listened, you would be an officer by now.” Levi knew you were a good soldier. You would rush out on the field and sacrifice your life or horse or swords for any comrade, regardless how they treated you at dinner the other day. The only time you would listen to Levi without question was on the field, too, and you would execute his shouts with speed and precision. He knew that the new cadets looked up to you, too, after saving many of their assess on the first expedition with Erwin’s new formation. If only you were the same off, then you would be on Levi’s Squad at least, if not in the officers’ cabinet.

You knew that too. You heard the others’ praise your skills and critique your behavior. You wouldn’t let anyone tell you what to do unless they had legitimacy in your mind. Erwin was amazing at strategy and kind to anyone, Hange was extremely intelligent and didn’t care who you were, and Miche was just soft and wouldn’t hurt a fly unless they threatened his squad. Levi was an amazing soldier, but it seemed that was the only thing he had. You didn’t give appreciation to those with bullied others with their brawn.

“I don’t want to be an officer, Captain. Quartermaster is the farthest I’ll go.” He frowned, knowing that one day you’d probably be promoted due to someone’s death. Maybe even his. You had to have known that.

“Why?”

“Papers please! Where in Trost are you- OH! Captain Levi!” The Garrison member bowed only once, seeing Levi’s annoyed face as he cut him off. You handed the papers, smiling, and was permitted into the district, turning right away to get to Reeve’s. You had no intention of answering his question, and he didn’t press anymore as the horses galloped up to the depot. When you hopped out, you smiled at all the workers, knowing they’d give you some extra supplies if you buttered up to them. It worked last time, but you were alone last time.

“Flegel! How are you today?” He looked directly at Levi, not even caring that you just greeted him. You just rolled your eyes again at the two and went to work, picking up the things on the list and signing. Levi didn’t get out to help once, he just sat in the cart, looking down at you like you were an ant. At one point, you stood next to the cart, noting that you were almost equal to his sitting height. You straightened up to make sure he realized it too. 

“I thought you came here to help, Captain.” He scoffed and sent another glare at Flegel who was shouting at some worker.

“I thought the Commander was clear in that I’d be accompanying you. I have no intention of doing heavy lifting.” You leaned back on the edge of the wood, marking off the rush supplies they put in the cart. The only thing that was left was the heavy bags of flour that three people needed to carry. You wondered if Levi would order you to go back right away, or he’d let you go off and do errands of your own.

“You’re right, he didn’t say. You probably couldn’t carry any of these things either, they’re a bit heavy… Captain.” Before he could say something back, hearing your insults, Flegel couldn’t help but join in. He’d told you on your previous supply run that he disliked the short man more than anyone in Trost and it stemmed from an apparent mess up and fight over Levi’s tea order. Go figure.

“Some of these packages are taller than you, Captain Levi. We can’t have our strongest soldier getting hurt by some wood, can we?” His question was directed at you, hoping you would jump in and support him, but after feeling the anger radiating off of Levi behind you, you knew it was better to not indulge him. Flegel was the easier target in this situation.

“I’ve never seen you carry any packages, Shorty.” He paused in his tracks, now noting that your insults were not on his side. They’d never be on his side. You stood up to your full height, trying to tower over Flegel as you handed him the list to sign. He was mumbling something under his breath, and you wouldn’t let him breath.

“What was that? Speak up, I can’t hear you from up here, Flegel.” With that, he walked away without saying goodbye, and your smile was the largest Levi had seen it. In fact, Levi was also satisfied with the way you put the fat boy in his place. Only a little bit surprised, though, that you defended him after insulting him yourself. It seemed to put him in a better mood and he even offered to buy lunch to take back.

You took the cart outside of Trost, letting the horses rest and eat in a meadow before the heavy ride back. Levi and you were on the grass eating, him leaning against a tree. He’d bought pork buns and you noted that it seemed to be his favorite food. You noticed his change in mood, which was probably the reason he’d bought you the buns, but didn’t press it. You also realized this was probably the first time you’d talk to him at length without getting reprimanded or into a fight.

“Is that fat boy always like that?” You huffed in laughter at the nickname he’d given Flegel.

“No, usually he tries to get me to eat dinner with him and I always deny.” Levi could imagine it in his head. If the way you acted in front of him was restrained, he wondered what you would say to the boy once you were all alone. Maybe he’d come again just so he could witness you insulting someone other than him. He had to admit, it was funny, and he wondered if that’s what it looked like to others as well.

“How do you deny him?” This answer might get rid of his good mood.

“I tell him I don’t go out with men shorter than me.” He just rolled his eyes and took another bite. Of course that was your answer. You’d do something daily to remind Levi that you were taller than him.

“Why did you come again? You could’ve saved yourself the time and insults.” You looked up at him from your seat on the grass, having eaten all the buns. He was a slow eater.

“To get my tea back. I saw it in the Reeve’s storage room. What a waste.” You laid back on the grass, looking up at the sky. It was getting colder, and you could tell by the heaviness of the clouds that your prediction on early snow was going to be correct.

“All officers get only one personal item per request. Erwin’s is a leather-bound journal, Hange’s is glassware for experiments, and yours, if we list them all off, are cleaning supplies, tea, a new broom, extra milk, and a fresh linen shirt. When I went to Erwin about it, he just told me to get rid of the most expensive thing and let you have the rest. If anything, yell at him, and stop bothering me about it.”

“I don’t need the linen shirt. Take that off and give me back the tea.” You laughed at him again, and it made him pull back the annoying look. His good mood was quickly leaving.

“Your tea supply is equal in price to the cleaning supplies, broom, and linen shirt. I can only let you have the extra milk and tea. We’re in the middle of a famine and supply shortage, Levi.”

“Captain,” he warned you, and you knew the mood of your previous conversation had flew out the window. You sat up, giving him your best glare. He wasn’t thinking rationally about this at all.

“Look, Captain. I’m given only a specific amount of money per month and have to balance out needs over wants. The Scouts need food, water, and winter clothes, that’s without question. Then, because you’re an officer, you’re supposed to get one thing with the excess money. Even the Commander has given up his leather-bound journal this month because of the recent inflation, and we weren’t about to have any left-over money for budge room. Like I said, it was either your tea or the Scout’s necessities which you also use. Even so, you’re still getting an unequal four other items. For someone who’s so stuck on me following the rules, you really like to use your position to break them.” He looked like he was going to kick you right then and there. You were at the perfect height for him to do it, too.

“I need the tea.” He crossed his arms, trying to forget what you just said. He knew he was being selfish, but it was never a problem before, or rather, the previous Quartermaster was afraid to call him out on it. Maybe that’s why Erwin promoted you out of the blue, knowing you weren’t afraid to tell him.

“So, you want me to cancel the orders for cleaning supplies, the broom, the shirt, and the milk?” You saw his jaw clench. No, he didn’t want to lose those either.

“I use the tea so I can recover from lack of sleep.”

“And if you didn’t drink the volume of tea you did, you would be able to sleep. You seem to be doing just fine without it.” You gestured your hand towards him, and his eyes followed.

“Do you know why I don’t sleep, Cadet?” His voice was lower now, and it made you draw back your hand, thinking he’d probably attack that first. You’d seen him some nights when you couldn’t sleep, just sitting alone in the mess hall drinking a cup or two. Seeing his state at night, dark eyes and dark circles, you didn’t feel like it was morally right to bother him then. It always had a dark tone, whenever you looked at him at night. His head was always hanging low and his hand had a death grip on the teacup. You had an idea why he didn’t sleep.

“Is it nightmares, Captain?” You saw his hand grip the last bun hard, his movements stopping. You knew you’d gotten the right answer, but he wasn’t actually looking for you to answer. Now, he’d had to brace himself for whatever words came out of your mouth next. Were you going to call him weak? Laugh at his pain? He wouldn’t put it past you, yet you just sighed.

“If you can find me someone in Trost, I can set up a contract with them. The tea’s export tax sends the budget over. It would also be better if you permanently got rid of one thing. You could steal a broom from the supply closet, no one but me will notice.” Levi didn’t buy it.

“And then you’ll report it to Erwin again? Announce it to the cadets that I’m stealing from the closet?” You could hear the anger in his words. Who did he think you where? Sure, you’d make fun of him for other things, but not for something he couldn’t control. He could control being an asshole, but not his nightmares.

“No, I won’t, but if you keep protesting my goodwill, the deal’s off the table, Captain.” You stood up to get the horses ready to leave. He still found it annoying that his tea supply hinged on your favor, but this deal seemed much more open than the last.

It took him another month to show up in the supply room as you were auditing. The weather had gotten extremely cold, always being able to see your breath as you went outside, and you knew that it had to be a special occasion for Levi to come outside since he hated the cold. When you turned around to see him, his eyes were bloodshot, and the black circles were the thing most evident on his face. Since the blizzards came, there was no training or expeditions, so you hadn’t seen him for a while, and you wondered what he’d gone through to look like this. Was it the nightmares?

“I found somewhere in Trost that is up to my standard. Here.” His voice was tight was he thrust the contract into your hands. The signature was empty, waiting for you to put your name down, but you were about to ruin his day even more. The blizzard was eating up supplies like crazy, and firewood was quickly running out. Unable to go out and cut down trees, the supply closet’s surplus was bring used up hourly. Moreover, a group of mice had gotten in and eaten through food and clothing, causing you to make this random audit to see the damage. There wasn’t going to be any leftover money this time for him to bargain a tea contract. You almost felt guilty for having to tell him this after personally giving him the option.

“I’m sorry, Captain.” Levi noted this was the first time you’d apologized to him, but he didn’t want to take it. The nightmares got worse as the sun faded from the sky earlier and earlier. He’d run out of all the tea he could find, and now he was forced to fall asleep and wake up in a cold sweat at three or four in the morning, just to stare at the wall before he fell asleep again. When he had tea, he could get up and drink it, not afraid to fall asleep again. He needed tea, any tea.

“I’ll give up everything like you said.” You almost dropped the pencil when he said that. You’d never seen him so desperate for something and you wanted to give it to him so bad, but it was something that couldn’t be done. Not this month. No officer would be getting their personal requests.

“I’m sorry, Levi, I can’t. Not this month. No one is getting their personal requests because of the mice mishap and the snow. I-I can try next month?” He just sighed and ripped he contract out of your hands.

“Nevermind. Forget what I said.” You wanted to stop him from walking away to see if you could work it out, but he was too quick. His cape swished in the winter wind as you watched him walk back to the castle, only to be submerged in the white snow. You felt guilty that you couldn’t give him what he wanted. He was suffering, and you could see it on his face too. He probably thought you were denying him the tea just to see him suffer even more. The next few days he snapped so easily at everyone that your daily insubordination completely stopped. You would just stare at him in the mess hall, willing him with your eyes to come back and talk to you. He never looked back at you, but he knew you were staring.

“You have to get the audit done by the end of this week. It seems we’ll only have a day window for you to get to Trost and back before a big storm comes again. Can you do that with the budget?” You looked down at the list of items you procured, only for Erwin to tell you that the budget was cut down again by the Royal Government. You’d have only a day to rethink the items needed.

“Yes Commander, I can redo the budget tonight.”

It took hours to do, but you did it. Instead of outright buying new jackets, you pushed back the spring supply, and just ordered patches to be sewed on. Then, you go to work figuring out how you were going to do it. If you allotted certain funds to different types of flour, cheaper versions, and you were able to receive beans instead of meat, you could get protein without the added shipping and cooling costs. As soon as you got to the number you needed, you let out a shout that echoed through the empty mess hall. Finally!

“What are you doing up, brat?” You seized up, turning around to see him, this time in pajamas and tossed hair. He looked even worse than the other day when he came to see you.

“I could say the same to you.” You didn’t add your usual insult at the end, knowing he wouldn’t be able to stand it. It looked like he was already fighting some other demons.

“Oh, you know, slowly dying of exhaustion thanks to the Quartermaster. Nothing new.” You held in the urge to roll your eyes at him, knowing what you’d just written down on the order sheet. He wouldn’t be saying that soon. If you stayed in this room, you would probably revert back to your old ways and start a fight with him. You’d only be able to do that after the shipment came in the next two weeks. Oh, how you longed for the day you could insult him in front of the cadets at training again. 

“I’ll leave you then, Captain.” His eyes seemed to light up a bit as you started to get up from the bench. He also noticed how your attitude towards him changed after your trip to Trost. Although there weren’t training sessions for you to sass him at, you would bow to him in the hallways and not talk back when he said something to egg you on at dinner. Sometimes he would catch himself missing it; discipling you just to hear your new insults the next day. While it was annoying to no end, it was refreshing. He needed to be refreshed.

“What, no snarky comment? You wouldn’t let me say something to you like that before, (Y/F/N).” You knew what he was trying to do, but you also knew the dangerous line you walked on. He was looking for something to punish you for, perhaps. Now that he knew he wasn’t getting tea, he had nothing to lose and a person he usually takes his frustrations out on right in front of him.

“No, Captain. I have to deliver this to the Commander.” You walked past the door and he grabbed your arm, making sure you didn’t leave. You looked into his eyes and for the first time in your Scouting career, you were scared of what would happen next. 

“I can give it to him for you.” He looked down at the paper and you pulled it back so he couldn’t see what was on it. His bad attitude was going to ruin your surprise. He took this action as your anger. 

“No, Captain. It’s fine, go get some rest.” His hand didn’t leave your arm and you glared down at it. His grip was starting to hurt and that smirk on his face was getting really annoying. 

“I can’t get rest, Miss. Quartermaster, because of you.” You ripped your arm out of his grasp and his smirk grew. There it was. That’s what he was looking for. You knew you’d lost the game of keeping in your temper. 

“If you keep acting like this, pretty soon you be able to walk either, Captain. Now if you’ll excuse me!” When walking to Erwin’s office, you almost erased that tea order right off the list, but you held yourself back. When Erwin went over the list to approve it, you saw him smirk over the last item, and maybe, just maybe, that made all the trouble you just went through worth it. 

“He finally convinced you?” It was the first time you’d crossed your arms in front of the Commander, but it just made him laugh. He was happy you finally obliged Levi because he was almost to his wits end hearing the Captain complain about your new appointment. Hopefully, next week, he would have a happier, more alive Captain.

“No, he was just too annoying to handle anymore, Commander. I pray he won’t notice that I took off everything else he ordered, because then we’ll be back to square one.” Erwin nodded and signed the paper, making you take a breath of relief. You could go to bed and sleep in tomorrow before you’d put in the order.

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate having a tea supply back, (Y/F/N).” You just sighed and dismissed yourself to your quarters. When walking to the showers, you saw the glow of a candle still coming from the mess hall. Levi was sitting there, drinking something, scowling down at the table. It was the same scene you’d seen over and over.

You threw the small package you had at him, narrowly missing his head. He grabbed the paper, snapping his head to look at his attacker. When he saw it was you, his smirk increased. He guessed it was too tempting not to come back and torment him. At least it was something to do.

“Since the Commander even complained about your whining, you can have the rest of my tea. It’s probably not up to your high standard, Captain, but I don’t think you’re in the position to choose.”

“And I don’t think you’re in a position to have that tone with me, Cadet.” You just rolled your eyes, having a mutual understanding that he wasn’t actually going to do anything to you tonight. He saw the clothes and towel you had in your hands, and you saw how tired he was. If anything, you should be telling him to go to bed again, but you knew that he’s probably afraid to fall asleep. The tea would help tide him over till the next delivery.

“It’s Quartermaster. I swear, even if I get promoted, you’ll still call me cadet.” You turned to walk to the showers, but his next insult disappeared at your statement.

“Why don’t you want to be promoted?” He asked you outside of Trost, and you didn’t answer him. It bothered him a bit, but not enough to ask you until now. You were a perfect candidate for a leadership position in Erwin’s eyes, and Levi knew that. He just wanted to know your reasonings, that’s all.

“I don’t want to have to be in meetings with your sorry ass, Captain.” He glared at the back of your head, and you could feel it as you walked away. He even thought about throwing the tea sachet back at you, but it was too precious. He had a terrible nightmare, so he was not very excited to fall back asleep, and you basically gave him a cure all. If he was smart, he could use this tea for at least a week and maybe take a personal trip to Trost and get more. Either way, he was grateful for your change in attitude towards him, even if you’d still sass him around HQ with your words. He’d take that over nightmares. He even dismissed the idea of punishing you tomorrow for swearing at him. 

Once the shipment of supplies came in the next week and you handed everyone their rations, you had your sights set on Captain Levi’s office. You knew he had a meeting with Erwin in the afternoon, and it would be easy to sneak into his office and leave the box of tea on his desk. Once you got inside, you decided to leave him a note. One last thing to piss him off before he’d see you at dinner. You’d give him a smug look all night, too, maybe even going to sit at the officer’s table and pretend to talk to Hange. No, you weren’t giving him this tea to make a point, but you still wanted him to know he’d have to be thankful to you for once. Maybe you’d even make a visit during his nightly mess hall tea break, just to emphasize your point.

Shortie,

Remember that night you bruised my arm? This is what I was doing. I expect you to bow at my feet during dinner, but it shouldn’t be hard since you’re already close to the ground.

You’re Welcome,

Quartermaster (Y/L/N)

When he found it, he smirked at the note, opening the box to see the tea he requested from the company in Trost. The note was annoying, but he couldn’t stop staring at your handwriting. You were fucking annoying too, but he couldn’t stop staring at you during dinner either, sipping a cup of tea. You’d chosen the perfect spot in front of Hange, making it easy for him to look at your features. Little did you know, he was enjoying your presence while you were trying to rub into Levi that you saved him.

“Hange, you have no idea how hard it was to get everything ordered within budget. I stayed up till three trying to figure out the math!”

“If you had half a brain, then maybe you wouldn’t have had to stay up that late, Quartermaster.” Your gaze snapped to him, glaring, but not missing the fact he called you your proper title for once.

“If I remember correctly, you were up too, Captain.” 

Hange cut in, making sure that both of you atoned for how annoying you were. Every time you two were together, the constant bickering made others listening develop a headache.

“If I remember correctly, I found you two flirting in the mess hall!” She made sure to yell that out loud so that the other cadets looked at the scene she created. Everyone heard her loud and clear and Levi was about to kill her. How dare she make such accusations?! 

“As if!” You crossed your arms, glaring back at Levi.

“Flirt with her?!” Hange could feel the animosity between you two, but she also noticed how red both of your faces had become.

“He’s the most annoying person I’ve ever met!”

“I am?! Have you heard yourself speak, (Y/F/N)?” You stood up, huffing in anger.

“I don’t date men shorter than me.” 

“And I don’t date stuck up brats.” You gripped both of your fists and realized that if you stayed any longer, your face would get incredibly red and you’d have to throw hands with Hange, so you left with everyone watching you. Levi was now in recovery mode, glaring at all of the cadets so they would turn away in fear.

“How can you not see how annoying she is, Hange?” He took another sip of the tea that you had given him. Maybe, he’d grown to prefer whatever brew you gave him that night in the mess hall. It was minty. He liked mint. 

“Mhm, Levi, sure.”

Maybe, he’d have to catch your annoying ass later tonight and ask you to order whatever personal blend you’d given him.

“Don’t look at me like that, four-eyes. Go oogle at some titans.”

Maybe, he’d catch you and start another little fight about the tea order, or force you to tell him why you didn’t want to be an officer.

“Oh, like you were “oogling” at (Y/F/N) tonight?”

Maybe.

xx this one took a LONG time to write haha I hope you like eet xx

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