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queenshelby · 9 months

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Business As Usual (Part Four)

Pairing: Dark!Thomas Shelby x Wife!Reader

Warning: Dubious Consent, Reluctant Smut, Loss of Virginity, Arranged Marriage, Religious Themes, Angst, Termination, Pregnancy

Words: 2,145

NOTE: THIS IS MUCH DARKER THAN WHAT I USUALLY WRITE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

The rain poured relentlessly outside the grimy window of the narrow back-alley abortion clinic.

You sat on the uncomfortable wooden chair, your mind clouded with doubts and fear.

Lizzie Stark, a woman you only recently met, had given you the contact details of a doctor who specialised in illegal procedures like the one you wanted to have performed but questioned yourself about.

"Am I really going to do this?" you whispered to yourself, your hands nervously fidgeting in your lap. The sound of a baby crying from the adjacent room reached your ears, the piercing wails tearing at your already frayed emotions. Suddenly, the door creaked open, revealing a frail-looking doctor with weary eyes peering out from beneath a pair of thick spectacles. His expression was grave as he motioned for you to follow him.

"Y/N is it?” the doctor asked in a hushed tone and you nodded, unable to trust your voice to convey the turmoil within you.

Your heart thundered in your chest, fear and anticipation intertwined. This house, where your choice would be made, seemed to shrink around you, suffocating you with its sterile walls and unspoken possibilities. You took a deep breath, your trembling hand clutching to your purse for support. This was it. The moment of truth, where everything would change, for better or for worse.

“Ready to make your little problem disappear?" the doctor then asked as you walked into the procedure room and your eyes widened as his words sank in. The procedure room was stark and sterile, the air heavy with the scent of antiseptic. The doctor instructed you to lie down on the uncomfortable metal table, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Actually," you began, your voice trembling slightly, "I'm not sure if I can go through with it,” you told the man and his face twisted into a scowl, his patience evaporating like smoke in the breeze. "Time is money, Love. If you're wasting mine, I have no qualms about showing you the door,” he said rudely and you swallowed hard, feeling a sudden surge of bravery. "I'm sorry, but I just can't do it” you told him as silence hung heavily between you, tension thickening the air.

The doctor's eyes bored into yours, searching for any hint of insecurity, any crack in the armour you had gathered around your resolve.

"Fine," he finally muttered, his voice laced with disdain. "But don't come crying to me when you're stuck with a child you don't want,” he told you and, with those haunting words, he retreated into his office, leaving you standing in the desolate waiting room, grappling with the weight of your decision.

***

Week after week then passed, and you continued to live the misery of your life while, secretly, watching your body change and adapt to the fact that you were carrying a child you did not want and about which your husband knew nothing about.

Week after week, you watched in secret as your body transformed, silently adapting to the growing life within you. The weight you carried was not just physical; it weighed heavy on your soul. Each day, you meticulously hid any evidence of your pregnancy, ensuring that Tommy remained oblivious to the truth.

In the depths of your heart, a mixture of fear, guilt, and resentment simmered as you plotted to leave this mess behind. How did you find yourself in this situation? The life growing inside you was not one you wanted, yet fate had deemed it otherwise. Your secret burden became a constant reminder of the choices you thought you had control over but ultimately surrendered to circumstance.

You had no say, a slave in your home called Arrow House, and as you struggled to navigate your own conflicting emotions, you couldn't help but wonder how Tommy would react if he ever discovered your secret. What would become of you? Would he understand your reasons or resent you for keeping him in the dark? These unanswered questions coiled tightly within you, sealing your lips and strengthening your conviction to conceal the truth.

With each passing day, the weight of the secret grew heavier. It whispered its taunting presence, reminding you of the façade you had woven around your life. You became a master of deceit, expertly masking the signs of pregnancy—sickness, tiredness, and the telltale physical changes—through careful planning and cunning improvisation.

But this wasn’t everything you concealed. You also concealed the fact that you were disgusted and hurt by the fact that your husband was treating you the way he did.

He slept with other women, mainly whores but also a fellow criminal named Laura Manning. Laura was a pawn in his game. He did not love her and yet, you couldn’t help but feel despair towards her. She worked with your husband while he did not allow you to work at all. He kept you as his prisoner, and eventually, you just sought solace in the routine of your days, feigning normalcy while the life within you flourished.

You pursued mundane activities, but behind the smiling facade was the war of emotions raging within you as you plotted to leave, somehow, going back to America. The love and attachment you should have felt for your unborn child by now was also overshadowed by the overwhelming sense of entrapment. Arrow House was nothing but a gilded cage and, week after week, you continued to play your role and maintained the illusion that everything was as it should be while you longed for the day when you could unburden yourself of all this.

You needed your own money to leave and had no access to a large amount of funds. Your husband controlled everything and, just recently, he even took away the little money you had saved beneath your bed after he caught wind of the plan you were plotting.

A fight ensued, following which leaving Arrow House was impossible for you. You were a prisoner now and with that, the secret of your unborn child was seeping into the cracks of your arranged marriage. The guilt gnawed at your soul like a relentless beast as you wondered how long you could keep the truth hidden.

You were several months pregnant now, showing slightly and just as Tommy came home again after a lengthy trip, smelling like another woman, you had enough. You could not take it anymore.

Thomas returned home earlier than you had expected. The stench of his infidelity clung to him like an invisible layer of betrayal. The moment his eyes met yours, you felt a shiver of anguish run down your spine.

His presence alone commanded attention, silencing the air with his dangerous aura. Thomas, eyes cold as steel, glanced at you, his penetrating gaze making you feel bare, vulnerable.

"Knitting, eh?” he teased you, seeing that this was how you had spent your days now that it was raining. You knitted out of boredom and his statement caused you to nod in silence while tears began to form in the corner of your eyes.

“Don't you have something more productive to do?" Tommy drawled, asserting his authority as he always did. You raised an eyebrow, your resilience fighting back this time as your ever-changing hormones got the better of you.

"Perhaps I would have if I wasn’t a prisoner in this fucking house and if my husband hadn't been busy gallivanting with his mistress yet again," you retorted, your voice dripping with bitterness. The tension grew thick between you, the air electric with unspoken words. Thomas took a step forward, his voice low and venomous.

"My personal affairs are none of your concern, eh. Our marriage is a sham, so why should I be faithful to you?” he questioned, his arrogance seeping into every syllable. Your jaw clenched, a defiant fire igniting in your eyes.

"If this is a mere sham for you, why keep me prisoner Thomas? Just let me go, after all you have done to me…” you told your husband before implementing a threat of your own.

“You know, I have told my family about your lack of liaison with me on the export provisions and I am sure it will be addressed during the next business meeting. So perhaps then you will just have to set me free” you determined to which Thomas smirked, his arrogance momentarily shifting into amusement.

"That’s funny Love” he taunted. “Since it was your uncle and aunt who made me keep you out of the family business. I wanted to keep my fucking promise to you after that awful night we shared. I thought that I owed you that much, but your family begged to differ” Tommy then said, dismissing your words with a flick of his hand.

“Excuse me?” you say surprised while a twisted smirk graced Tommy’s lips.

“I am doing exactly what your family wants from me Y/N and it is in both our interest to do so, at least for now. Trust me” Tommy told you as the room fell into an infuriating silence, tension hanging in the air like a blade waiting to strike.

Thomas stared at you, his stormy eyes searching for a hint of weakness. "But you are not as powerless as you think Love. Not against me and not against your family" Thomas finally spoke, a dangerous glimmer dancing in his eyes.

"You just need to learn how to put your foot down when sitting with the big players in this game,” your husband told you and, by that point, your heart raced, the weight of your secret threatening to suffocate you.

“This game?” you asked. “Is this what this is to you, Thomas? A fucking game?” you asked, causing your husband to chuckle.

“Yes, I do. It’s a game of power and fucking respect, both of which you need to earn if you want to make it to the top and I am at the fucking top now” Tommy exclaimed, causing you to break out in anger.

“Well, I played the game too Tommy, when I agreed to marry you. My marriage to you alone should earn me some fucking respect, but no…you are out there, fucking every whore in this town, and it isn’t even the whores that bother me. It’s Laura fucking Manning” you told Tommy, your frustration seeping into your voice. "I went into this marriage, fully aware of what I was getting myself into. But I thought that, at the very least, my commitment to you would earn me some respect” you went on to tell your husband who was stunned by your newfound confidence.

Your tone of voice conveyed your frustration and annoyance as you confronted Tommy about his affair. This arranged marriage was already far from what you had envisioned, but to discover that your husband was being unfaithful added an extra layer of irritation.

You had resigned yourself to the fact that your marriage may not be built on love, but mutual respect and fidelity should have been a given. Yet here you were, realising that even the minimal expectations you had were not being met.

Tommy's actions felt like a direct attack on your dignity, making it even more difficult to maintain any semblance of a positive outlook. The bitterness in your voice was a perfect reflection of the resentment simmering within you.

But rather than let your emotions consume you completely, you chose this moment to confront Tommy. You wanted him to understand just how much he had wounded you and how unacceptable his actions were.

As the words left your lips, you couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction, even in your angry state. You were determined to make him face the consequences of his choices, and this confrontation would be the first step towards that.

Thus, with a determined resolve, you squared your shoulders and met Thomas's gaze head-on as he was standing there, speechless.

"I am not one to be underestimated, Thomas. You'll soon learn that," you declared, your voice laced with the strength you barely knew you possessed. Thomas chuckled, a low, mocking sound that resonated with arrogance. "Then show me, Love. Show me who you really are, " he challenged. As the tension between you rose, you felt a strange mix of anger and desire. The lines between love and hate began to blur, a dangerous dance on the edge of emotion.

Suddenly, the sound of a gunshot echoed from outside, shattering the fragile tranquillity. Thomas's eyes flickered with a flicker of alarm before he composed himself, slipping back into the role of a cold, calculating leader.

"Seems our conversation will have to wait, eh," he muttered, the urgency in his voice betraying his calm facade. "Stay here,” he then ordered, and you nodded silently, watching as he rushed out of the room with a swift determination.

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yamunason · 2 months

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pcatechnologies · 1 year

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adventuringblind · 3 months

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Unrequited Understanding

Norlestappen x Reader

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort

Summary: Her father comes back into her life as a replacement race engineer. Now she can't escape him and his voice when she does the one thing she thought he couldn't touch.

Warnings: eating disorder, abuse, past child abuse, sef harm, suicide attempt

Notes: for @ashiekins, I hope you like it! I'M SORRY FOR THE ENDING I COULDN'T HELP MYSELF!

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

January

The new year had never felt so sweet. Her victory with Max and Redbull had been a dream. Max taking another championship, had the entire team walking on cloud nine.

She spent new years with her boys. It's tradition at this point to messily kiss all together as the new year comes around.

They'd done so much for her. She's come so far in her journey.

"What are you thinking about, Love?" Neither her nor Lando could sleep. Most nights, they end up talking to get the heavy thoughts to lessen a bit. It's why they get one half of the bed to themselves.

"How nice it feels to know I'm still here and loved." She rests her head on Lando's chest, the steady rythme of his heart lulling her into a restful state.

"Life wouldn't be the same without you." He kisses the top of her head as her mind finally gives into sleep.

February

Her and Max sit together at the large conference table. The factory is preparing for the new season. Energy is running high, and she can feel it crackling in the atmosphere.

Christian talks about how excited he is for the new season. 2023 is going to be theirs to dominate. Adrian has been working tirelessly to give them a title worthy car.

"We have had to make some last-minute changes to the team, unfortunately." Christian makes eye contact with her, and the good feeling she had dissolves. "Your race engineer has fallen terminally ill and is being hospitalized. The good news is we've found a last-minute replacement."

The door opens, and she feels the air leave her lungs. Her body shakes in fear of the man who takes confident strides to his chair.

Christian introduces them, clearly not understanding that they know each other very well. The man is her father, after all.

She has her mother's last name. Intent on separating herself from him entirely. He'd been doing Indie car for years. She never thought he'd make the switch after how they left things.

Max shoots her a concerned look, but she shakes it off. None of the boys had ever seen what her father looks like. They don't know she changed her last name.

She has no intention of ruining a good season because of her petty emotions. So, she says nothing.

March

It's not as bad as she thought it would be. They don't interact much aside from talking about data and while she's in the car.

The underhanded comments make her thoughts reel. The constant questioning of her skill while she's driving makes her think she's crazy. Her father is too good at making it look like a joke. People laugh with him, not understanding he means what he says.

He talks over her, cuts her off, bosses her around like she's still a child. She shrinks in on herself every time he cones around.

Stay silent and listen. That's what got her through her childhood. Just don't make him angry.

He lashes out when he's angry.

Charles is there when a nightmare causes her to be sick. A memory of her childhood that haunts her still.

The Monegasque holds her hair up and rubs her back as she sobs. He makes her a warm drink and holds her, letting her wet tears soak into his shirt.

"Do you want to talk about it, mon chéri?" He whispers gently against her forehead.

She inhales, breath catching in her throat as she does. "My dad, he - well - he used to say I'd never be anything. I sometimes dream about the memory."

"Your father and Jos can fuck off." Charles cups her face with his hands. "You are amazing. Whatever he told you is a lie. You've proven yourself to the world. Your younger self can rest knowing she got you here, that you are safe and loved and enough."

April

It's getting worse by the day. She's not sure where her father got the idea that he could order her around like she's still five and karting. It's getting annoying and ridiculous.

He's taken to snatching any food out of her hand and tossing it away into the nearest bin. What a waste. He could've eaten it himself.

He keeps telling her the car is too heavy. The data doesn't show that, but whatever. Her food being taken from her like when she was young was not how she expected the season to go. She takes to not eating because it's easier than fighting with him.

Her physio keeps asking her about why her weight seems to be plummeting recently. Even trying to get it back on her with altered meal plans. The concerns get brought up later in a meeting with Christian. The severity of her condition being made apparent.

Max watches her sob over a salad. She can tell he wants to push, asked what is causing the relapse. Understand where her head is at.

He hands her a water bottle and waits until she drinks the entire thing. "It's okay to struggle, but please don't shut us out. You don't have to do this alone, alright?"

She doesn't respond, simply collapses into his patient arms.

May

Lando and Charles happened to be passing by at the worst time. The Redbull garage still buzzing with the excitement of Max's podium and her mediocre result compared.

They saw her race engineer laying into her about every mistake. No other staff around to hear the conversation. Her head hung in shame as he pointed out every flaw.

Charles interrupts with such ease. He says her PR officer was looking for her earlier. It gets her to excuse herself from the conversation, leaving the two boys with her engineer.

"Mind your own business next time," scoffs the older man. He leaves the younger two confused.

Charles takes in Lando's mildly anxious body movements. "Something isn't right, Charles. She had that same look from when we were rookies."

Charles hums in agreement. "We'll have to wait for her to come to us for now."

June

The underhanded comments are getting progressively worse. People have started noticing that something is off about her race engineer and his behavior towards her.

Meetings are difficult and the team is walking on eggshells. Max looks ready to explode and has been ripping her father to pieces after every comment. He gets in trouble, so she asks him to stop.

She doesn't mind. Her whole life has been taking this kind of behavior from him. Max knows better than anyone that it's best to respect that kind of ask.

"I'm here if things ever get to a point where you want it to stop. I will always be here for you."

July

Her wight combined with her self-harming habits are making it harder to drive. Somewhere in her head she knows she can't continue like this. The car no longer works with her.

Christian keeps pulling her into his office and asking her about where she's at. Warning her the if she continues down this road, she won't be able to drive. That he'll be forced to find a replacement.

She cries as the boys hold her. She tells them she's not sure if she can do it anymore, that she's not cut out for this sport. They comfort and reassure her that's a lie.

Her thoughts remain stuck on being a burden to them. She gets better just to fall once more into her old habits. They have careers and goals that would be easier to achieve without her around.

Maybe her father is right about her after all.

August

The summer break brings them a much-needed reprieve from the fast-paced world they live in. She gets to spend time away from the incessant voice of the man she hates. Her boys occupying her mind instead.

There is a finality about this that she can't explain. Like things can only get better from here on out. That something in her future is going to bring her the one thing she's looking for.

Swimming in the ocean and eating what they want. They laugh and joke like nothing has changed. It's the first time in months that she feels normal.

This is how things should be. The smile on her face is genuine and the boys can all tell.

September

The cuts line her skin in an unorganized fashion. Angry, red, and bleeding. Her race had been ended early due to a collision. She'd been collateral damage; it wasn't her fault.

The media didn't see it that way. Her father definitely had no mercy when he mercilessly explained how she will never be good enough as a driver.

Hidden away in her drivers' room now, watching the blood pour from her skin. The boys know, they've seen the fresh lines. They are trying to find a way to get her to stop, but these feeling are fighting back harder than ever before. She's not sure how to fight them anymore.

Disappearing seems like the best option. The only way she'll be able to escape the dark thoughts swirling in her head. The one place her father won't be able to touch her anymore will be in her death.

She moans as the blade digs deeper. The ecstasy that accompanies addiction is a feeling she will always crave. Sick satisfaction bubbles in her throat and pour out on her eyes as red stains the floor.

This wasn't her plan, but it's okay. The pain makes all her thoughts go away. Lessens the weight on her chest. Forces her mind to focus on something else.

Everything is spinning and then it goes dark.

Warm hands and comforting words. That's all she's ever wanted.

October

The boys can see how sick she is. Max won't let her be alone in the garage. Not after she almost died.

Her physio is with her when none of the boys are. They keep asking her questions that she won't give answers to.

It's not until an altercation with her father is finally caught. He's condemning her over the radio while she's driving. They'd had an argument earlier about how she should be taking turn three.

The public execution is miserable. Still, she puts her head down and drives.

The second-place trophy has never felt heavier. It drags her arms downwards as she heads to the garage with Max. He doesn't know about what happened yet and she hopes it stays that way. She screams as she puts it away in her room.

She avoids her father as much as possible on the way to the press conference. The glimpse she does get of him leaves a bitter taste in her mouth. Christian looks angry as he presses a finger into her father's chest.

She's zoned out majority of the conference. Until A journalist with a soft voice is asking about her feelings towards her race engineer.

"It's just how things are sometimes. I wasn't listening to instructions, and he was frustrated. It happens." She shrugs it off like this is the most normal everyday occurrence. Which, in her defense, it kind of is.

Every media outlet seems to want to know more about it. Her emotions are struggling to remain contained. the inevitable sobs escape after a particularly worded question about whether his actions could be considered abuse or not.

She breaks, collapsing in the middle of the media pen. Her boys are there blocking the view of the cameras as her body fails to move.

They know now what has been happening. Her secret is out there for everyone to see.

November

Her father is fired from the team with immediate effect. Christian apologizes relentlessly for not knowing and not seeing it sooner.

The media is asked to refrain from asking about the incident and anything regarding her past race engineer. They respect it, probably wanting to avoid another meltdown in the middle of an interview.

Max, Lando and Charles are with her through every step of the way. They encourage her to talk to them and she does. It feels nice not having to hold in her family secrets.

They want to help her, and she wants to be helped.

Her race engineer for the end of the season ends up taking the job for next year. He's kind and keeps his voice calm. Her last few drives amaze everyone.

The top step of the podium has never felt so good. She didn't need to prove herself to anyone, but the confidence it brings her is hard to deny.

Closure feels even better.

December

Her therapist is proud of her for opening up to the boys more. They don't push her to spill everything, but they encourage her when she does.

The end of the year pulls them closer together. After everything that happened, she wasn't sure she was going to see 2024 come around. She's glad she does though.

She fought to the end. She made it to her peace. A place where her father can't touch.

Warm hands and gentle words for all of eternity.

January... Again

Three boys stand in front of a grave. Her favorite flowers in hand. The silence stretches between them. None of them know how to proceed.

The memory of finding her on the floor replays in Max's head. He should've known to find her right after the race. That cold September afternoon in Zandvoort. The day she bled out for one final time.

Charles and Lando assure Max it's not his fault. IT hadn't been her plan. There was no note, not even a warning sign aside from her mental health declining.

Her father, who they now know was the catalyst for her relapse, is in jail. Christian made sure to get him put away so the boys wouldn't have to worry about it.

The other drivers came to the funeral. The journalists respect their wishes not to speak on the matter. They need to heal before they can even think about trying to explain how all three of them had taken time off.

The FIA pushed the races back since Redbull needed to sort things out. The memorial on the track has been visited by everyone on the team.

They tried so hard. They wanted her to stay. They can only hope that she found what she needed in whatever lies beyond this life.

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sunshinemoonrx · 8 months

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I think how successful dragon ball was at rewriting its entire genre in its image obscures just how much of a sports manga it is. or practically a game manga like yu-gi-oh. you know, where the entire arc of the universe bends absurdly towards the characters' past-time.

You might think that doesn't count when their past-time is "fighting", which is a standard way of resolving conflicts that have escalated beyond verbal or legal resolution, but this vastly undersells just how many bullshit magical problem-solving resources the heroes of DBZ have at their disposal, including but not limited to:

Spaceships, time travel, flight, teleportation, the ability to teleport other people by touching them, a magical dragon who can grant you wishes once a year, a backup magical dragon that can also do this (who is on another planet...that they can teleport to), pocket-sized capsules that can contain temporarily-shrunken objects up to the size of a house, a watch that can shrink you, telepathy, a deity on-call (via telepathy) who can see everything in the universe, beans that heal all your wounds, multiple friends who can also heal all your wounds, a room where time passes at 1/365 the normal rate, shadow clones, laser beams that can destroy planets, friends in the afterlife who might let you visit the world of the living again for 24 hours as a favour...

...like, my point is, you give this to most adventure heroes and they're like sweet, tools to solve problems with. But these guys are so beautifully devoted to their sport that they're just like sweet, tools to turn every problem into something I can resolve with an MMA bout.

A Terminator-style warning from the future that robots will take over the planet in three years? Should we use magic to find the scientist and talk him out of it, or failing that just ice him? Bulma actually suggests this, but of course not. Then we wouldn't get to do karate at a robot! We'll just spend three years doing really good workouts so we can spin-kick the T-1000 through a wall, duh.

A magical demon who could devastate the universe is unsealed by a wizard? Should we employ some kind of counter-magic to seal or destroy it? Use teleportation to put it inside a star or something? After all it very specifically has the power "made of magic regenerating rubber, punches literally do not affect it"--ahh, I see, you're using teleportation to lure it to an empty planet so you can punch it harder, using your sway over life and death to resurrect a second guy to punch it alongside you, and then using the magical wish-granting dragon to make you not tired anymore so you can do the ultimate martial arts move (giant ball that kills you).

As I hope my tone conveys, I'm not saying this like it's a problem with the series. I just think it's an underappreciated part of the appeal that this shit is exactly like yami yugi always finding himself in situations where the fate of the world Must be decided via trading card game.

The lads just love sports so much.

#dragon ball

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paleprincessturtle · 7 months

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The Sorrow of Tomorrow

Part 1

Note: I actually got this idea from a request. I won't attach the request here because I don't wanna spoil the ending as I'm making this into a 2 parts story. But I will definitely attach the request once I finish the second part.

Pairing: Harvey Specter x Female Character (she) Warning: Curse words, blood.

It was a little over a year ago when Jessica called Harvey to his office. Her face was unreadable as usual. “You wanted to see me?” Jessica nodded and motioned for him to sit on the couch. “Here,” Jessica handed him the blue folder. Harvey flipped it open and on the first page, he sighed. “You know I’m not a divorce attorney. I took Esther’s case because of Louis,” he closed the folder and placed it on the table. “She’s a close friend of mine,” Jessica said quietly. “This divorce is messy, I need you on it.” Jessica gave her a hard look. “I helped Esther with her divorce because she’s Louis’ sister. I won’t handle another divorce case, Jessica,” Harvey said, jaw clenched. Harvey was ready to leave when Jessica said, “She was my shrink,” Jessica said quietly as if someone might hear. “Psychiatrist?” “Psychologist.”

“How was she your psychologist and a close friend of yours? Us and them, we have the same code.” Jessica nodded, ready to explain herself. “It started around a year ago. I couldn’t sleep at night, nightmares,” Jessica paused and Harvey gave her a small smile of encouragement. After dealing with panic attacks himself, Harvey knew how hard shits like this might get. “I went to over a dozen psychiatrists and psychologists. I saw no improvements. All I saw was how much they wanted to keep me in their pockets. Then my sister recommended a psychologist, she promised me she would be different. So I went to see her. It all went well. I started to see real improvements and 3 months ago, she terminated our agreement. She told me I could walk on my own. She didn’t keep me in her pocket, Harvey. She actually cared for me.” She sighed and leaned back. “Since then we have seen each other a lot. I confided in her as a friend. And 2 weeks ago she told me her husband was cheating. She filed for divorce and her husband wanted to take all their marital assets. Including a clinic she owned. She asked me to be her lawyer but I cared too much about her, my judgment won’t be as clear as yours. So please, Harvey. I owe this woman the peace I have right now.” Harvey nodded as he took the folder with him.

2 days later, Harvey prepared himself to meet with his client for the first time. Harvey went to the conference room before he opened the door, he saw a woman standing by the window. Harvey opened the door and she turned around to see whoever entered the room. Harvey was taken aback. She was younger than he expected her to be. Her hair was long and flowy and her smile was bright, despite the circumstances. Harvey shook his head, a bright smile? He must not have gotten enough sleep last night to have thought about a smile that can be bright. “Mrs. Seward,” Harvey extended his hand. She scoffed but shook his hand. “Harvey Specter,” she nodded, then again smiled. “Please don’t call me Mrs. Seward. And nice to finally meet the source of Jessica’s headache.” Harvey raised an eyebrow at her snarky comment as he watched her sit herself in one of the chairs. Harvey shook the thought of how attractive this woman was. “Okay, so tell me more about this scumbag of a soon-to-be ex-husband of yours.”

3 months after that, they were sitting in a fancy restaurant. It was indeed a nasty divorce and took 3 months to finalize. And they were celebrating the long-awaited win. “Harvey, I really would like to thank you. You really worked hard on this,” Harvey scoffed. “Don’t mention it, it’s my job.” She shook her head, “I want to thank you still.” For a few minutes, they were just sitting there in silence. Enjoying the mere presence of each other. “However,” Harvey started, having her full attention. “I think I couldn’t be your lawyer anymore.” Her eyebrows knitted in confusion. “Am I not paying you enough?” She joked but earned not even a smile from Harvey. “I couldn’t be your lawyer anymore because I want to date you,” Harvey said nonchalantly as if the piece of information he just shared wasn’t even important. “Come again?” she asked in disbelief. “I want to date you. And I can’t date you if you’re still my client. The last thing I need is to get disbarred over a pretty girl,” Harvey smirked as he took her hand and earned the brightest smile from her.

Around 8 months later, Harvey got his ex-client to be his girlfriend. Who would have thought?

Donna was wiping the sweat on her forehead from following Harvey’s order. Harvey’s been barking orders left and right. He was especially on edge today. God knows what pissed him off this time. Donna’s best guess was that Judge Campbell wasn’t cooperating with Harvey’s plan and now he had to whip out a new one. But, Donna had also whipped out a plan to tame Harvey. Donna kept looking over her table. Couldn’t wait for one more second for her plan to arrive. “Donna!” Harvey called again as she sighed and was about to walk over to her boss’ office. That was when she saw her plan arriving. Donna thanked all the Gods above. Donna’s plan scurried to her in her red bottoms. “You’re a lifesaver! I’m sorry to have called you on working hours. But Harvey has been unexpectedly mean today. He just barked my name not 2 seconds ago.” Donna faked a pout. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of Harvey. And sorry he was mean all day.” Donna smiled and told her not to worry about it. Donna’s plan walked quietly to Harvey’s office. Harvey was facing the window, clearly deep in thought. She didn’t even knock, just invited herself in. “Donna, I called you minutes ago. Is it that damn hard to come here when I called?” Harvey swiveled in his chair and his face instantly softened at the sight of his girlfriend. “If that’s how you talked to Donna, you should give her a raise,” she smiled as she sat across from him. “You’re definitely not on my schedule today,” Harvey joked as he flipped through his calendar. “Should I call the security?” Harvey smirked. He watched her and she stood up from the chair. Harvey moved his chair back, away from his desk. She sat on Harvey’s lap as the both of them stared at each other. She brought her thumb to the crease between his eyebrows and smoothed it. “I’m sorry, today must be hard. Plan didn’t go well with Campbell?” Harvey nodded as he closed his eyes and enjoyed the moment. “It’s 6. Let’s leave. A tired mind is not a good mind. We can stop to have dinner,” she stopped the movement of her thumb and Harvey opened his eyes. Looked longingly at his girlfriend. She leaned in and whispered in his ear, “And then, you could do whatever you wanna do to me,” she left a soft kiss just behind his ear before abruptly standing up. Harvey shivered from the kiss. He closed his laptop so fast and was ready to leave. He saw that his girlfriend already standing by Donna’s desk and he heard Donna vaguely thanked her over something. “Come on,” Harvey said as he put his hand on the small of her back. “Thanks, Donna. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Donna nodded and the two women hugged as they shared farewell. Harvey took her hand as he walked a bit faster than usual. “Easy tiger,” she laughed as Harvey followed. “Hey, guys!” Harvey sighed at the sound of the familiar woman that stopped the both of them.

“Jessica!” Harvey sighed once again as his girlfriend let go of his hand and walked in the opposite direction of the elevator. Harvey reluctantly followed her. They were hugging when Harvey reached the two of them. “Been so long since I saw you!” she said to Jessica. “If anything you’re the one busy with Harvey,” Jessica smirked at her as her face reddened. Harvey also smirked at the sight of his girl’s reddened face. The three of them were in a conversation when they heard the elevator door open and then close.

“WHERE IS HARVEY SPECTER?”

The loud shout startled the three of them if not everyone nearby. Harvey stiffened at the sight of his girlfriend’s ex-husband. Harvey instinctively moved her girlfriend behind him. “Jeffry”, she whispered in disbelief. Jessica ran inside her office to call security as all of them knew, he meant harm. Upon seeing Harvey and his ex-wife, Jeffry walked really fast over them. “So what I heard was right. You are having an affair with your lawyer. I always knew you are a bitch,” Jeffry was ready to lunge at her when Harvey stopped him. He towered over him. “Leave and I’ll pretend this never happened.” Although Harvey’s voice was low, it was laced with venom. “Don’t you dare tell me what I should do when you helped her ruin my life.” They were standing nose to nose. Both were seething. “You are nothing but a bastard,” Jeffry said before he punched his jaw. Harvey fell to the floor, followed by the shriek of his girlfriend. “Jeffry, please. Just leave,” she tried to reason with him. Stalling time until the security arrived. Harvey was about to get back on his feet when he saw it. The knife. He heard nothing but the blood-curdling scream of the woman he loved more than life. He saw everything in slow motion. The white shirt his girlfriend wore turned a sickening shade of red. The security tackled Jeffry. Jessica got beside her, now lying on the floor barely conscious. Harvey couldn’t really hear anything, everything got blurry. He felt like he tried to breathe underwater. He tried to move, to get to his girlfriend. But he felt like his limbs were chained. Suddenly it was Mike’s face he saw in front of him, with a glass of water. “Harvey, drink!” Mike was half screaming. “Snap out of it, Harvey. You can’t have the panic attack now, she needs you,” Harvey took a generous gulp of the water as he brought himself back to reality. Then everything slowly became clear. Jessica got his girlfriend’s head on her lap. Mike watched him, making sure he was okay now. The pool of blood underneath her was the one that snapped Harvey. He quickly got beside her and took her in his arms. “Oh God, Jessica. She’s going to die,” Harvey said as he pulled his girlfriend closer as if she might fade away. “Harvey, calm down. We’ve called the 911.” Harvey barely listened to Jessica as he removed whatever clothing was put on top of the wound to stop the bleeding. He took off his suit jacket and pressed hard on her wound. Harvey watched her face, he saw colors draining from her face. He felt her skin getting cold. He heard her quiet, labored breathing. “I…” Harvey’s voice trailed off. “I lo- love you so much, baby. Please, please don’t leave me, please. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Frustrated tears flow because Harvey knew, there was nothing he could do.

Part 2 here.

MASTERLIST

#harvey specter #harvey specter imagine #harvey specter fan fiction #harvey specter x reader #harvey specter imagines #suits harvey specter #harvey specter fanfic #suits tv

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 11 months

Text

Airport Entertainment.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

word count - 5.3k

in which, two days ago, you got a call in the early hours of the morning from your sister saying that you had to fly home immediately due to your aunt having taken ill during the night, so that left harry to look after your two year old son archie, he promised they would fly out to be with you as soon as possible, so now, harry has to try and keep little archie entertained…this is going to be fun.

Amidst the bustling airport, Harry Styles stood tall with his two-year-old son, Archie, by his side. Their journey had begun as they successfully checked in their luggage and emerged from the labyrinth of counters, transitioning into the next phase of their adventure.

Harry's mind, however, carried a weight beyond the mundane travel preparations. Just two nights prior, his wife, Y/N, had received a heart-wrenching call, informing her of her aunt's sudden illness. With unwavering love and determination, she swiftly arranged a flight to be by her aunt's side, leaving Harry with a newfound purpose – to join them as soon as he could.

So, he booked the first flight he could find and knew for a fact that he had to be by his wife's side in this time of need.

He had met her aunt so many times that he even called her aunt when speaking to her or about her. She thought of Harry as a son and knowing she was sick made his heart plummet straight into his stomach.

The airport teemed with life, a vibrant symphony of hurried footsteps, the rolling of suitcases, and an orchestra of conversations in diverse languages. It was a reflection of the interconnectedness of the world, a place where paths crossed and destinies intertwined. The spirit of busyness infused the air, electrifying every corner, as people scurried to their gates, their faces etched with anticipation or tinged with farewell.

Having checked in and bidding adieu to their bags, Harry and Archie passed through the gateway of security, where the atmosphere took on a different dynamic. The once expansive terminal seemed to shrink, as a throng of travellers condensed into a serpentine queue. The surrounding walls reverberated with the ceaseless hum of anticipation, the clinking of belts being unbuckled, and the soft rustle of belongings being prepared for inspection.

Forty minutes stretched before them, like an infinite corridor of time. The queue wound its way through the maze of dividers, a labyrinthine path that seemed to twist and turn, never allowing them to glimpse the destination. The air buzzed with whispered conversations, snippets of laughter, and occasional announcements echoing through the speakers, beckoning passengers towards their respective flights.

For Harry, every minute spent in the security queue was a reminder of the urgent purpose that propelled him forward. The weight of concern for Y/N and her ailing aunt pressed upon him, mingling with the impatience that built within. The minutes melted together, as if time itself had been distorted within the confines of the checkpoint, leaving him suspended in a paradoxical state of urgency and waiting.

Archie, his wide eyes filled with curiosity, observed the commotion with innocent wonder. His tiny fingers tightly clasped around the straps holding him in place in his stroller, seeking solace and familiarity amidst the sea of strangers. Harry, in turn, offered his son gentle reassurance, his smile and gentle facade conveying both love and a silent promise that they would be reunited with Y/N soon.

As the minutes gradually gave way, the queue inched forward, teasing them with glimpses of progress. The rhythmic shuffling of feet, the gentle clinks of bins being placed onto the conveyor belt, and the intermittent hum of security scanners formed a background symphony. Harry's senses absorbed the collective energy, a mosaic of emotions spanning from excitement to weariness, from joyous reunions to bittersweet farewells.

Finally, their turn arrived. Harry guided Archie through the checkpoint, his footsteps in sync with the beat of their racing hearts. As Harry and Archie passed through the scanner, the little one being told softly by the security officer that he needed to come out of the stroller, his innocence and curiosity temporarily intersected with the stringent protocols of travel. Harry followed closely behind, reclaiming his belongings, his gaze fixed on the path that lay ahead.

The arduous passage through the security queue had served as a metaphorical bridge, connecting Harry to the journey that awaited him. The airport, with all its organised chaos, had become a transient space, a conduit linking him to Y/N, her aunt, and the unknowns that lay beyond.

Having successfully navigated the security checkpoint, Harry found himself pushing Archie's stroller through the bustling airport terminal. The early morning hours had begun to awaken hunger within Archie's little belly, and he tugged at his father's sleeve, his voice filled with innocence and hunger.

"Dada, me hungry," Archie's voice chimed, drawing Harry's attention away from the flurry of activity surrounding them.

Harry's brows furrowed in gentle concern as he glanced down at his son, a mix of adoration and responsibility shining in his eyes. "Aye, little man, I reckon it's time for some breakfast,"

Archie's eyes lit up with excitement, and his tiny finger pointed towards the golden arches, a beacon of familiarity in the distance. "Look, Daddy! Mac-Donald's!"

Harry's initial inclination to steer clear of fast food wavered in the face of his son's earnest enthusiasm. He knew that a hearty breakfast would keep Archie content and energised for their journey. With a resigned smile, he relented, his voice filled with a touch of indulgence. "Alright, Arch. Just this once, we'll make an exception."

As they approached the familiar restaurant, the inviting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon wafted through the air, mingling with the familiar sounds of sizzling patties and cheerful chatter. The breakfast menu tempted them with an array of options, from warm muffins to savoury breakfast burritos.

As the line at McDonald's slowly moved forward, Harry guided the stroller over to the counter, ensuring Archie had a clear view of the menu. The friendly McDonald's worker, caught up in the whirlwind of orders and customer requests, called out, "Next customer, please!"

Harry approached the counter, a gentle smile gracing his lips, and caught the worker's eye. Instantly, recognition flickered across her face, a mixture of surprise and excitement. Trying to compose herself, she greeted him with a blend of professionalism and admiration.

"Good morning, sir. What can I get for you today?" she asked, her voice carrying a hint of awe.

Harry, ever gracious, returned her smile. "Morning! I'll 'ave the sausage and egg McMuffin with an orange juice, please," he replied, his order a familiar choice.

The worker scribbled down the order, her hands trembling slightly with excitement. The opportunity to serve someone so well-known brought a touch of nervousness, which she tried to conceal. Composing herself, she turned her attention to Archie, bending down to his level.

"And what can I get for you, young man?" she asked with a playful tone, enchanted by Archie's adorable presence.

Archie, his baby talk endearing to all around him, replied, "Pancakes, pwease!"

The worker chuckled at his delightful request, her heart warmed by his innocent charm. "Certainly, pancakes it is!" she confirmed with a smile.

She swiftly tallied up the total and informed Harry, "That'll be £6.98, please."

Harry reached for his wallet, retrieving his card with practised ease. Holding it aloft, he placed it against the contactless payment machine, effortlessly completing the transaction. The seamless act reflected the modern convenience that had become second nature in their fast-paced world.

The McDonald's worker thanked him, her professional demeanour now mixed with a hint of gratitude. "Thank you so much, sir. Your order will be ready shortly."

Harry skillfully manoeuvred the stroller to the designated waiting area, where customers eagerly anticipated their order numbers to be called. The bustling sounds of the McDonald's restaurant filled the air as conversations and the sizzle of food blended harmoniously. Archie, his curiosity piqued, observed the vibrant scene from his cozy perch.

After patiently waiting for approximately ten minutes, a different McDonald's worker, with a friendly smile, called out, "Number 149!"

Harry's eyes lit up, recognizing his order number, and he guided the stroller toward the counter to collect their tray of breakfast delights. The worker, wearing the iconic McDonald's uniform, carefully placed the tray in front of Harry, her demeanour friendly and efficient.

"Here you go, sir. Enjoy your meal!" she said warmly, her voice echoing with genuine hospitality.

"Thank you," Harry replied with a grateful smile, appreciative of the worker's attentiveness.

With the tray in hand, Harry skillfully navigated through the bustling restaurant, his gaze searching for an unoccupied table. Spotting a vacant spot near the window, he guided the stroller and tray towards it, ensuring Archie had a comfortable view of the outside world.

As they settled into their chosen spot, the aroma of freshly cooked breakfast wafted through the air, tantalising their senses. The table, adorned with a vibrant red and white chequered pattern, provided the perfect setting for their morning meal. Harry carefully arranged the tray, placing the delicious assortment of food within easy reach.

Harry gently lifted Archie out of the stroller, placing him on the seat next to him. Archie, his eyes gleaming with delight, tugged at Harry's sleeve and uttered his innocent request, "Daddy, sit hewe!"

Harry paused, a wide grin spreading across his face as he realised Archie's desire for closeness. " ‘f course, little man. Right next to you," he responded, his voice filled with warmth and affection.

With a slight shift in his plans, Harry moved to the seat beside Archie, their closeness fostering an environment of joy and connection. As they settled into their seats, ready to indulge in their McDonald's breakfast, they embarked on a lively conversation, Archie's baby talk intermingling with Harry's words.

Archie, his face beaming with excitement, kicked off the conversation with an enthusiastic question. "Daddy, what we do befowe we get on the plane?"

Harry's eyes sparkled with playful anticipation, mirroring Archie's infectious enthusiasm. "Well, little mate, we could walk around and explore the airport. Maybe see some big planes taking off?" he suggested, his voice filled with a touch of adventure.

Archie's eyes widened with wonder, his voice brimming with curiosity. "Big planes! Like the one we going on?"

Harry nodded, his voice tinged with excitement. "Exactly, Arch! J’like the one we're gonna hop on. And maybe we could find a shop with some toys or books to keep us entertained on the journey," he added, envisioning the joy of discovering new treasures together.

Archie clapped his tiny hands, his eyes shining with anticipation. "Toys! Books!" he exclaimed, his words a testament to his infectious eagerness.

Their conversation flowed seamlessly, filled with laughter, shared dreams, and simple pleasures. Harry listened intently to Archie's sweet musings, cherishing every precious word that fell from his son's lips. The moments they shared were not just a series of exchanges but a celebration of the deep bond they nurtured as father and son.

As their breakfast came to a close, the remnants of their meal still scattered across the tray, Harry reached out to wipe a smudge of syrup from Archie's cheek. Their eyes met, an unspoken connection forged in that brief but tender gesture.

As Harry and Archie strolled through the bustling airport, their path meandered past various shops and bustling crowds. Archie's eyes darted around, eager to absorb every bit of excitement that surrounded them. Then, in the distance, he spotted a vibrant, soft play area adorned with colorful structures and laughing children.

"Daddy, I wanna go thewe!" Archie exclaimed, his voice filled with uncontainable excitement.

Harry's eyes crinkled with a knowing smile as he saw the play area ignite his son's enthusiasm. "Aye, Arch, let's go have some fun in there," he responded, his voice laced with anticipation.

Approaching the play area, Harry spotted a friendly lady overseeing the activities. Archie wriggled in his arms, impatient to explore the wonderland before him. Harry approached the lady, a warm grin on his face.

"Is it alright if my son plays in here?" Harry asked, his voice filled with hope.

The lady, with a kind smile, assured him, "Absolutely! It's a free play area. Feel free to let him have a blast!"

Harry's heart swelled with gratitude, knowing that this little adventure would not only entertain Archie but also help him burn off some energy before their flight. He gently set the stroller aside, securing it in the designated stroller bag with the others, ensuring its safety.

With the stroller safely stored away, Harry joined Archie within the vibrant play area. Soft structures welcomed their every step, inviting them to partake in the joyous revelry of childhood. Archie's eyes widened as he took in the sights and sounds, his tiny feet eager to explore.

"Daddy, look!" Archie called out, pointing at a colorful slide. "I wanna go down!"

Harry chuckled, his eyes twinkling with delight. "Alright, mate! Climb up and I'll catch you at the bottom!"

Archie climbed up with a determined focus, his little hands grasping the handrails. With a joyful shriek, he slid down the slide, his laughter echoing through the play area. Harry stood at the bottom, arms outstretched, ready to catch his adventurous little one.

"Good job, Arch!" Harry cheered as Archie landed safely in his waiting arms. "You're a champion slider!"

Archie beamed, his face flushed with excitement. "Again, Daddy! Again!"

Harry happily obliged, the two of them repeating the slide-and-catch routine, their laughter merging with the sounds of playful chatter and gleeful shrieks from other children.

After a few more exhilarating slides, Archie tugged at Harry's hand, his voice filled with anticipation. "Daddy, let's climb that!" he exclaimed, pointing at a colorful climbing structure nearby.

Harry chuckled, his heart swelling with pride at Archie's adventurous spirit. "Sure thing, little man! Let's conquer that climbing tower together!"

As they climbed and explored, their conversation continued, punctuated by laughter and playful banter. Harry and Archie shared their dreams and desires for their upcoming journey, their voices blending with the joyful symphony of the play area.

"Daddy, I wanna see a big, big plane!" Archie exclaimed, his eyes shining with wonder.

Harry nodded, his voice full of excitement. "We'll see one soon, Arch! And maybe w’can even sit by the window so w’can watch the clouds go by!"

Archie clapped his hands, his voice brimming with delight. "Clouds! Plane!" he squealed, his words expressing the sheer joy of the moment.

As Harry and Archie continued to enjoy their time in the play area, Harry noticed that Archie seemed slightly out of breath, his cheeks flushed with exertion. Concern etched Harry's face as he crouched down beside his son.

"Arch, do you want your juice, mate?" Harry asked, his voice filled with both worry and affection.

Archie nodded eagerly, his breath coming in short bursts. "Yes, Daddy, juice, pwease!" he replied, his voice slightly breathless.

Realizing that he had left the juice in the baby bag near the stroller, Harry quickly scanned the area. His gaze landed on a man, intently watching his own daughter play nearby. With a hopeful expression, Harry approached him.

"Excuse me, mate," Harry said politely, "could you please keep an eye on m’son for a moment? I left his juice in the stroller bag, and I don't want him to get too thirsty."

The man, sensing Harry's urgency, nodded kindly. "Of course, I'll keep an eye on him. Go get his juice, mate," he reassured.

With a grateful smile, Harry rushed over to the stroller, his mind focused on retrieving the much-needed juice. However, as he approached, the sound of a child's cries reached his ears. Concern gripping his heart, he hastened his steps.

With the juice in hand, Harry returned to the play area, only to find Archie crying, tears streaming down his face. Harry's heart sank as he noticed a small cut on Archie's knee, evidence of a fall that had transpired in his absence. Guilt washed over Harry, his mind racing with regret.

"Oh, Arch, I'm so sorry, mate," Harry murmured, his voice heavy with remorse. "I should have been here with you."

The man, looking after Archie, looked apologetic, his voice filled with regret. "I'm so sorry, I didn't see him fall. I tried my best, but..."

Harry placed a comforting hand on the man's shoulder, offering reassurance. "No need to apologize. Accidents happen, mate. Thank you for watching over him.”

Archie's cries escalated, his small voice calling out for his dad. Harry's heart ached, and he knelt down beside his son, wiping away the tears with a gentle touch.

"Hey, Arch, you've been such a brave boy," Harry whispered, his voice filled with love. "Daddy's here now."

Archie's tear-filled eyes met Harry's gaze, his bottom lip trembling. "D-Daddy, it huwts," he sobbed, pointing at the tiny cut on his knee.

Harry's heart broke at the sight of Archie's pain. He pulled out a wipe from the stroller bag and gently cleaned the wound. "I know, mate, m’sorry you got hurt. But don't worry, Daddy's going to fix it," he assured him, his voice soothing.

As Harry applied a plaster to the cut, Archie's sobs began to subside, replaced by sniffs and hiccups. Harry wrapped his arms around his son, offering comfort and security.

"You've been so brave, Arch. I'm proud of you," Harry said softly, planting a kiss on Archie's forehead. "Y’my little warrior."

Archie sniffled and looked up at Harry, his watery eyes searching for reassurance. "Daddy, make it better?" he asked in a small voice.

Harry smiled warmly, reaching into the stroller bag once again. This time, he retrieved a small toy car. "How about this, mate? We’ll go to the shop and daddy can get you a new teddy?”

As Harry gently tried to guide Archie back into the stroller, his little one clung tightly to him, refusing to let go. Archie's eyes were still watery from his recent tears, and his sniffling voice filled the air.

"Daddy, no stwoller. Want Daddy," Archie whimpered, his voice laced with a mix of vulnerability and a longing for comfort.

Harry's heart melted at the sight of his son's distress. He knelt down, embracing Archie in a warm hug. "It's alright, little man. Daddy's here. We can walk together," he assured, his voice soothing.

Archie's grip on his father's neck tightened, finding solace in his arms. "Thank you, Daddy. Love you," he whispered, his voice still carrying traces of his earlier tears.

Harry's eyes softened with tenderness. "I love you too, Arch. Always," he replied, his words a testament to the unwavering love between them.

With Archie safely in his arms, Harry adjusted his posture, making sure his little one was comfortable. As they walked towards the toy shop, Archie's sniffles gradually subsided, replaced by a sense of excitement and curiosity.

Amidst the joyful chatter and bustling atmosphere of the airport, Archie began to speak, his voice still tinged with a hint of lingering sadness. "Daddy, I want to buy a big teddy bear. A weally soft one," he shared, his words punctuated by small hiccups.

Harry smiled, grateful to see Archie's spirits lifting. "A big, soft teddy bear, huh? That sounds like a great choice, Arch. Y’can hug it tight, just like you hug Daddy," he replied, his voice filled with warmth.

Archie's eyes sparkled with anticipation, his voice growing stronger. "And maybe a shiny car too, Daddy. We can play together!" he added, his excitement building.

Harry's heart swelled with joy at his son's enthusiasm. "Absolutely, Arch! We'll have s’much fun playin’ with the shiny car and the soft teddy bear," he assured, their shared anticipation filling the air.

As Harry and Archie entered the toy shop at the airport, their eyes were greeted by a kaleidoscope of colors and a world of endless possibilities. They strolled down the aisles, Archie's eyes gleaming with excitement, eager to explore the wonders that surrounded them.

"Daddy, let me down!" Archie wiggled in Harry's arms, a determined look on his face.

Harry chuckled, his grip on Archie loosening as he gently set him down on the shop floor. With an infectious grin, Archie darted towards the end of the aisle, drawn by a box filled with a delightful array of teddy bears.

Harry's eyes widened in a mix of panic and amusement as he watched his little one leap into the bear pile, disappearing amongst a sea of plush fur. Laughter bubbled from Harry's lips, a testament to the sheer joy and uninhibited spirit of his adventurous son.

Just as Harry moved closer to rescue Archie from the bear-filled frenzy, a shop worker approached, a stern expression on his face. "Is this your son?" the worker inquired, pointing at the bear-filled spectacle.

Harry's smile faltered slightly as he nodded. "Yes, he's m’son. m’sorry about that," he apologized, a mix of amusement and sheepishness coloring his voice.

The worker, rolling his eyes and clicking his tongue, sighed with exasperation. "Please, sir, could you get him out of there? It's a bit disruptive," he requested, his tone a mixture of annoyance and weariness.

Harry nodded earnestly, quickly moving to retrieve Archie from the bear pile. With gentle hands, he carefully extracted his giggling and wriggling son, who was thoroughly enjoying his plush-filled escapade.

"M’sorry about the mess," Harry apologized once more, a hint of laughter still lingering in his voice.

The worker's expression softened slightly, a trace of amusement flickering in his eyes. "Just try to keep an eye on him, sir," he advised, his voice laced with a touch of understanding.

Harry nodded gratefully, fully aware of the truth in the worker's words. As he held Archie in his arms once more, he couldn't help but marvel at his son's sense of wonder and the ability to find joy in the simplest of moments.

As the worker walked away, Harry looked down at his son who was in his arms, a mischievous smile dancing on his lips. He pointed to one of the teddy bears in the pile and asked, "Is this the teddy bear y’want, Arch?"

Archie's eyes lit up as he nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, Daddy, that one!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with delight.

Harry couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth and affection as he witnessed his son's excitement. He leaned closer, a playful glint in his eyes. "Alright then, Arch. What are y’going to name y’new friend?" he asked, his voice laced with anticipation.

Archie pondered for a moment, his little brow furrowed in concentration. Then, a mischievous smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Harry," he declared, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

Harry's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his mouth forming an exaggerated gasp. "Harry? You're going to name your teddy bear after me?" he exclaimed, his voice filled with mock astonishment.

Archie giggled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Yeah, Daddy! Harry!" he confirmed, delighting in the playful banter.

Harry playfully rolled his eyes, a grin stretching across his face. "Alright then, Arch, I'm honoured," he replied, his voice laced with affection. "Harry the bear it is!"

As Harry and Archie found a cozy spot near the big window at the airport terminal, their journey seemed to pause for a moment of tranquility. The soft glow of sunlight bathed their surroundings, casting a warm hue over the area. Archie, his tiny frame seated on the floor, was engrossed in play, his small hands hugging his new teddy bear tightly.

Harry, sitting behind him, propped against the wall, watched his son with a fondness that swelled within him. His heart swelled with gratitude for the little being before him—a testament to the love he shared with his wife, a living, breathing miracle they had brought into the world.

In this serene moment, time seemed to slow down. Harry's gaze, filled with admiration, traced the contours of Archie's face—the tousled locks of hair framing his forehead, the innocence in his wide eyes, and the dimples that danced on his cheeks when he smiled.

The terminal hummed with the gentle bustle of passengers, yet all Harry could focus on was Archie—their son, their joy, their hope. His love for him overflowed, evident in the way his gaze lingered on every gesture, every giggle, every captivating moment that played out before him.

Archie's laughter filled the air, a symphony of pure delight that brought a smile to Harry's lips. His tiny hands wrapped around the teddy bear, forming a bond that mirrored the connection Harry himself had with his son. It was a reminder of the precious moments of tenderness and care that they would share, of the adventures and challenges that lay ahead, and the unwavering love that would guide them through it all.

In this quiet corner of the airport, the world around them faded into the background. Harry was entranced by the simple beauty of his son's innocence, the way he surrendered himself wholeheartedly to the realm of imagination, his laughter echoing with boundless joy.

As Harry's gaze continued to linger on Archie, he couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder and gratitude for the privilege of being a father. The responsibility was immense, but so too was the reward—the chance to witness this little soul grow, to guide him, and to be a steadfast presence in his life.

As Harry remained captivated by the sight of Archie playing with his new teddy bear, his focus suddenly shifted as his phone began to vibrate. Glancing at the screen, he noticed a FaceTime call from his wife. His heart leapt with anticipation, knowing that this call would bridge the distance between them, even if only for a moment.

"Archie, come here, mate," Harry called out, his voice laced with excitement. "Mama's on the phone!"

Archie's head snapped up, his eyes lighting up at the mention of his beloved mother. With an infectious grin, he scrambled to his feet and eagerly climbed into Harry's lap, settling comfortably in his father's embrace.

Harry's fingers danced across the screen as he accepted the call, the familiar face of his wife appearing before them. The room seemed to come alive with the sound of her voice, filling the air with warmth and familiarity.

"Mama!" Archie exclaimed, his voice filled with delight. "Look, I have a teddy bear!"

Harry chuckled, his gaze shifting between Archie and the screen. "Say hello to Mama, Arch. Show her your new friend," he encouraged, his voice brimming with affection.

Archie held up the teddy bear, his face beaming with pride. "Look, Mama! Teddy bear!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with enthusiasm.

Through the screen, Y/N's face lit up with a loving smile. "Oh, Archie, it looks wonderful! I can't wait to give you a big hug when you come back," she replied, her voice filled with warmth.

Archie beamed, his tiny hand reaching out as if trying to touch his mother's face through the screen. "I miss you, Mama," he said, his voice tinged with longing.

Y/N's voice softened, carrying a wealth of love and reassurance. "I miss you too, my sweet boy. But remember, Daddy and I will be there soon. We'll have so much fun when we're together again," she assured him.

After a few more moments of conversation, Archie's attention waned, his eyes drifting towards the floor. He wiggled out of Harry's lap and landed gracefully on the ground, his interest shifting to the toys scattered nearby.

Harry watched his son with a mixture of amusement and adoration, his eyes sparkling with paternal love. "Alright, Arch, go play for a bit," he encouraged, his voice filled with warmth. "I'll talk to Mama for a little while."

Archie's eyes gleamed with anticipation as he delved back into his world of play, his imagination taking flight once more.

With Archie happily occupied, Harry refocused his attention on the screen. He leaned in closer, a tender smile gracing his face. "Hey, love, how are you doing? How's your aunt?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

Y/N's expression softened, appreciating Harry's genuine care and thoughtfulness. "I'm doing alright, Harry. It's been a challenging time, but we're taking it one day at a time. Thank you for asking. And my aunt, well, she's stable at the moment. We're hopeful for her recovery," she shared, her voice tinged with a mixture of weariness and hope.

Harry nodded, his eyes conveying a deep empathy. "M’glad to hear that she's stable. Sending our love and well wishes to her," he said sincerely.

They continued their conversation, their voices carrying the weight of their shared experiences and the warmth of their love. Harry updated Y/N on their adventures at the airport, sharing snippets of their journey and the excitement building within them as they prepared to board the plane.

"I can't wait to have you and Archie by my side again. It's been a bit challenging without you both here," (Y/N) admitted, her voice filled with longing. "But you're on your way, love. We'll be together soon."

Harry's eyes softened, his voice filled with affection. "I miss you both too, darlin’. We'll be counting down the hours.”

(Y/N)’s aunt lived in Madrid, whereas the Styles family were currently residing in London, so it wasn’t going to be a long flight that Harry had to endure with a toddler.

Harry chuckled, a warm glow emanating from his heart. "You know I will, love. He's in good hands. We'll see you soon, baby. Love you."

“I love you.” (Y/N) grinned, blowing a kiss which Harry playfully put in her a pocket.

As the video call came to an end, Archie reluctantly made his way back to his father, his tiny figure climbing onto Harry's lap. The weariness in his eyes was evident as he knuckled at them, a clear indication that he was tired.

"Y’look tired, Arch," Harry observed, his voice filled with gentle concern. "Are y’ready for a nap?"

Archie nodded, his head bobbing with a sleepy affirmation. "Yes, Daddy. Tired," he murmured, his voice tinged with drowsiness.

Harry's heart swelled with tenderness as he realized his little one needed rest. "Alright, buddy. I'll help y’fall asleep," he whispered, his voice carrying a soothing tone.

Archie, seeking comfort, looked up at his father with hopeful eyes. "Can you rub my back, Daddy?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Harry smiled, understanding his son's request. He began to gently rub Archie's back, his touch flowing with tenderness and love. The rhythmic motion brought a sense of calmness, soothing his son into a peaceful slumber.

As Harry's hand moved in gentle circles, Archie's sleepy voice filled the air. "Daddy, when will we see Mama?" he murmured, his words laced with a touch of longing.

Harry's voice, soft and reassuring, reached Archie's ears. "We'll be seeing her soon, m’love. A little while longer," he replied, his voice brimming with affection.

Archie's eyelids grew heavy, fluttering with the weight of his fatigue. He snuggled closer to his father's chest, his breaths growing slow and steady. In the midst of their tender conversation, sleep embraced Archie, gently pulling him into its warm embrace.

Harry continued to rub Archie's back, his touch a soothing lullaby. The conversation between father and son continued, their voices a gentle cadence that filled the room.

"Daddy, can we bring mama a present?" Archie asked, his words becoming softer as sleep claimed him.

Harry's voice held a loving reassurance as he replied, "Yes, Arch. We can get mama a present , we always bring the best surprises. You'll see."

As their conversation tapered off, Archie's breathing grew steady, his slumber deepening. Harry pressed a tender kiss to his son's forehead, his lips conveying a silent "I love you" that words couldn't capture.

In the peaceful serenity of that moment, Harry couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by a sense of gratitude. He marvelled at the beauty of their connection, the unconditional love that bound them, and the joy that their little family brought to his life.

With Archie now asleep, Harry held him close, cherishing the weight of his son's form in his arms. The room was filled with a quiet, gentle love that only a parent and child could share. In that embrace, Harry knew that the bond they had forged would carry them through any distance, any obstacle, and any challenge that life presented.

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