#disclaimer: this is my first litter! still learning

[marble-anime]

Sabotage

Pairing: Ryomen Sukuna x Reader

Summary: After finding out about your parents' plan to set you up in an arranged marriage, you ask the King of Curses to give you a baby in an attempt to sabotage their plan.

Disclaimer: Minors DNI

Warnings: mentions of violence, cursing, true form sukuna, smut, monster fucking, double cocks, oral(fem + male receiving), double penetration, breeding, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of pregnancy

Word count: 2.5k

You were one of the fortunate souls that had managed to cross paths with the King of Curses and make it out unscathed. You’d been sent out to gather water for your family and you stumbled across him rinsing off the blood that caked his monstrous body. He noticed you before you had the chance to run so you bowed down and begged him to spare you out of fear. You were met with his husky laugh and ordered to ‘scram’.

You ran as fast as your feet would carry you. When you explained what happened to your parents you were chastised for possibly leading the curse to your home. If he did know where you resided, he never bothered the village. But you had come in contact with him multiple times after that. Whether it was from pure coincidence or his own curiosity, it felt as though you saw him every time your family sent you beyond the village.

When you first met you’d reacted out of terror but the more you interacted with him the less afraid you were. You slowly learned how to navigate your conversations. You’d greet him with a bow and answer anything he asked about you, smiling politely and nodding at whatever he said and eventually he’d let you go. Although your fear was diminishing you still didn’t know what to make of him. After all, with his size and strength, he could easily tear you apart with those four arms.

But this time was different, you were the one seeking him out. You’d overheard your parents conspiring behind your back. They planned to send you off for an arranged marriage to improve their financial status. You pleaded with them to call it off but you were reprimanded for being ‘selfish’. For putting your wants before the status of your family. You hope they’ll understand why you're about to do this, they really left you no choice.

During your conversations with the fearsome King of Curses, you picked up on his sly comments about how your submissiveness would make for a good mistress. You weren't able to show it but you were secretly offended at the time. However, now his possible sexual interest in you could be your saving grace.

It wasn’t hard to find him. All you had to do was follow the trail of massacred villages and frightened whispers of his name. You soon found yourself at a rugged temple littered with bones. You made your way through the temple and deep inside was Ryomen Sukuna himself sitting on his throne, four crimson eyes staring you down.

“What do we have here?” he asked, a hint of interest in his smug voice. Clearly surprised by your presence. “Are you lost, little lamb?”

You shook your head, trying not to let him intimidate you even though one wrong move could leave you dead in an instant. “My parents are planning an arranged marriage that I have no intention of going through with.”

“Oh,” you intrigued him. Were you hoping he’d kill your husband-to-be? Or perhaps your parents? In that case, he might as well kill your whole village. Surely you weren’t naive enough to think that the King of Curses would give them a stern talking to all because you shared a few pleasant conversations. His decision to let you live didn’t make you friends in the slightest. “And what would you like me to do about it?”

He hadn’t anticipated your answer, “I want a baby.”

“A baby?” A certain darkness was swimming through his eyes as he observed you. His face was akin to a predator stalking its prey.

“Preferably a cursed one,” you replied, challenging his hungry gaze with your nonchalant one, “If dishonoring my family by giving birth to a monster is what it takes to get me out of this marriage then I’ll do it.”

He seemed to be contemplating your words for a moment before he ordered, “Get up here.”

You walked up the stairs of his throne, stopping on the last step. He grabbed your wrist and pulled you onto his lap. You were startled by the feeling of four large hands groping your body. Now with your face inches away from his, the doubt was starting to set in. You knew his body was huge but feeling it against yours, how tiny you were compared to him, really put into perspective just how massive he was. A vision of your mangled body caged in his four arms entered your mind.

“Our previous conversations led me to believe you were at least somewhat intelligent,” he said, as if being able to sense your doubts, “Perhaps I gave you far too much credit. Was becoming my concubine really the best solution you could come up with?” He held you close, his lips brushing against yours as he whispered, “I could kill you where you stand.”

“I can be whatever you want me to be.” His hot breath fanning against your face made you feel like a gazelle about to be devoured by a lion. “An innocent virgin or a slutty concubine.” He pulled you into a hungry kiss, silencing any doubt you had. His lips were rough in contrast to your soft ones. His teeth grazed your bottom lip. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your body heating up. He pulled away, leaving you wanting more. “Keep talking like that.”

“I can pretend to fight back if that's what you like. Act like I regret my decision and that I’m disgusted with myself for fucking a curse.” Being known for the massacre of hundreds of villages, murdering anyone who came across his path. You wouldn’t put it past him to bend the concept of consent. “Or I can act like it’s the best thing I’ve ever experienced.”

He slid a hand into your kimono, kneading your breast. You gasped when you felt a tongue flick your nipple. “Go on,” he said as if the teeth on his palm weren't gently tugging on your sensitive bud.

“I could serve you, do anything to please my master Sukuna.” You moaned as two of his hands gripped your waist, rocking you against him. You pressed soft kisses to his chest. “Or I could be selfish, all I really need is your seed in my womb.”

He grabbed your jaw, making your eyes meet his. “I want you to play the desperate, devoted, virgin. You understand?”

“Yes, master Sukuna.” He released you and you pushed yourself off his lap, sinking to your knees in between his thighs. You pulled his robe down just enough for his cocks to spring free. You stared at them in shock, you supposed that it would make sense for a curse with an extra set of arms to have double cocks. Sukuna noticed you frown in disappointment upon seeing what he kept in his pants. Anger seared through his veins at your reaction. “What the hell is that face for?!”

“There’s no way these are gonna fit,” you whined, they were at least 10 inches each and very girthy. They were massive, definitely inhuman.

Oh, his anger was replaced by amusement as he smirked at your pouty face. “Any size can fit if you're persistent.” He cradled your cheek in his palm and teased, “Unless you're not really serious about getting out of that marriage.”

You knew he was partly joking but his words still brought you some ease. You grasped each of his cocks, pondering how you should go about this. Experimentally, you wrapped your lips around one of them. Stuffing as much of it as you could into your mouth, all you could fit was the tip. You tried swirling your tongue and bobbing your head but it was hard to suck a dick when your lips couldn’t even make it to the shaft.

You heard Sukuna’s arrogant voice above you ask, “Need some help?” before a hand gripped your hair and shoved your head as far down his cock as it would go. Which still wasn’t much. You gagged on his cock, jaw being forced open to the point where it hurt. When you felt the pressure of his hand disappear, you bobbed your head a few more times before you released his girth with a wet pop.

“What are you doing?” he asked, under the impression that you were tapping out after only a minute.

“I have to suck the other one too, don’t I, master?” You tilted your head to work your mouth along his lower cock. Sukuna groaned at the sight of you struggling to suck one of his dicks while the other rubbed against your cheek. Not having much luck, you decided this wasn’t gonna work. You were gonna have to get creative.

You used your hands to fondle his heavy balls and pump one of his cocks, licking a long strip up the other. You alternated your hands and mouth around his sex. Sucking, licking, and stroking wherever you could, doing your best not to leave a part of him unattended.

“Interesting technique you’ve got there.” As entertained as he was, he couldn’t deny that what you were doing was working. Making up for your inability to fit his fat cock in your mouth by stimulating both of them at the same time. You kissed the base of his cock and replied, “If you’ve got a better idea I’d love to hear it,” before letting go of his balls so you could slip one into your mouth, gently sucking while your hand replaced where your mouth had previously been.

“Nah, I’d rather get to fucking your sweet cunt.” Drool seeped from his tummy mouth, drenching both his cocks and the lower half of your face in saliva. You stripped out of your kimono and straddled his lap. His four arms lifted you up, the tips of his cocks prodding at both of your holes as he warned, “It’s gonna hurt.”

“I know. I’m ready.” You ate your words when he let go, impaling you on his cocks. The mass amount of saliva helped them slide inside you with ease but it did nothing to cease the searing pain you felt at the intrusion. You dug your nails into his arms for support. If you didn’t know better, you could’ve sworn he’d punctured a lung with the way you gasped for air. Suddenly remembering your role, you asked breathlessly, “Does it feel good, master Sukuna?”

He reveled in the feeling of splitting you open, your gummy walls squeezing him for dear life. “Feels like a tight virgin ready to be bred by her master.”

All you could do was nod mindlessly as the tongue from his tummy mouth reached between you two, lapping at your clit. Your pussy and thighs were coated in spit. His tongue and cocks left you a moaning mess. You attempted to ride him but your shaking legs couldn’t even lift you halfway up his cocks.

His hands grabbed at you again, helping bounce on his cocks. White hot pleasure consumed your body as his tip banged against your cervix. In your fucked out mind, you wondered why this was considered so wrong. It felt so good. No mere human could ever hold a candle to this. You threw your head back, choking out sobs and slurring your words, “Feels so good, master ‘Kuna.”

Sukuna watched your stomach bulge each time your hips met his with lust-filled eyes. Your cries bounced off the walls of his temple followed by a creamy squelching sound indicating your orgasm. He didn’t let up, continuing to tongue your clit and fuck you up and down his cock like a toy. “How bad do you need your master's cum?”

“So bad!” you sobbed, “Need it so fucking bad! Please, master!”

He growled, lifting your body and pounding into you drawing silenced moans from your throat. You felt your second high crash over you like a tidal wave. Falling limp against his chest, you let him use you like a rag doll. You heard animalistic grunts and groans above you as he continued to brutally thrust into you. He slammed you down on his cocks one last time, filling your holes with his warm cum.

You felt him lift your body as he watched his seed drip down his cocks. Springing back to life, you pushed his hands away, forcing yourself back down. “No! You’re gonna get it everywhere.” It was already too late. His sperm was leaking everywhere. “Oh fuck. Okay, let's do it again and make sure it takes.”

Sukuna was surprised by your willingness to go again. Especially considering you just practically collapsed against him. Nonetheless, he could still go a few more rounds. “Fine. But this time you’ll play the stubborn, bratty, concubine.”

Your eyes darkened, digging your nails into him you spat, “Just fuck a baby into me already, curse.”

Three months after your little escapade with the King of Curses, Sukuna sent Uraume to fetch you. He was growing more curious with each passing day. When his servant finally brought you to him he asked if your plan worked. You shrugged and grabbed his large hand, bringing it to feel your swollen belly hidden under your kimono as you said, “I don’t know, you tell me.”

Leading up to the baby's birth, you would spend multiple days a week at Sukuna’s temple. Uraume would make you the finest food and Sukuna would tend to your needs, both sexual and otherwise.

When the baby was finally born you had a beautiful boy. His features mostly took after you. Well, except for the four arms he was gifted from his father. Your parents were horrified but you couldn’t have loved your baby boy more. He was perfect in your eyes.

After you’d given birth, you weren’t around Sukuna as much. But he’d still call you to him every once and a while. He didn’t say much, just watched you tend to your shared child with the utmost care. When your son saw his father for the first time he visibly brightened. You figured since he was always surrounded by humans, it was probably nice for him to see a being that looked like him.

What you didn’t know was that Sukuna paid a little visit to your village while you were at the market. He’d threatened your parents to force you into another arranged marriage. Surely, you’d come crawling back to him and you’d bear his second child. Being the mother of two cursed children, you’d simply have no choice but to be his wife.

He’d been out late getting rid of those pesky jujutsu sorcerers and when he arrived at his temple he was greeted with the sight of Uraume cradling his sleeping son. They informed him that you were waiting for him in his chamber. He knew his plan was falling into place when he opened the door to find you on his bed, kimono pooled at your waist to reveal your breasts as you spoke in a sultry voice, “Let’s have another baby.”

[justpoliteconversations]

Apple Merchant [BOTW!Link x Isekai!Reader] (Part 6)

Plans are being made. And Link is facing his demons as well as he can.

Still taking time to inch my way back to full speed. Things are getting better though and I can feel my fingers itching to write more and more. Still riding the joy of pure indulgence with a feel good favorite. I can never stop myself from rambling in this one.

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

Alternate Extras: Embrace

Masterlist

TW: Choosing not to display warnings. Read at your own discretion.

Disclaimer: Don't own The Legend of Zelda franchise.

---

Finally back in Hateno after several weeks of long, uncomfortable (sand infested. lizalfos infested) travel along the coast (doing your standard business. gathering what supplies you could for Link), and you were ready to just slip into bed for the rest of your life. Maybe even retire early. Ensure you never have to see another damned lizalfos for as long as you live (you won't, but the thought is there).

But it was simply not to be. You'd barely crossed the gates into Hateno proper and already you were planning (reluctantly) an even longer trip into territories you'd never (well. not never. but not for long) thought to venture to. And honestly, you weren't looking forward to it.

And by the look on Skim's and Adino's faces, neither were they.

Not even a day after returning to your home village you'd broken the news to your guards that you were planning a trip towards Goron territory. Though, if you were lucky and utilized your resources wisely, you might never even have to set foot in that brimstone hellscape of a volcano (you hoped).

You'd thought once (some years ago), that maybe it would be a place you should visit. The Gorons were known to be friendly to travelers. The paths were littered with unclaimed mineral and gemstone deposits. And the infrastructure for travel was there thanks to the thriving tourism industry in the area.

It'd seemed like a wonderful idea when you'd started planning such a venture in your early days of merchanting. Back when you were still riding high from making your first small fortune and were still relatively unaware of the world at large. Of its challenges. Of its dangers.

That was until you started gathering information on the hazards in the area, and your opinion of the region took an immediate and drastic turn.

The high death rates associated with heatstroke, dehydration and smoke inhalation were concerning enough. But learning that the volcano occasionally erupted (killing dozens, even hundreds of travelers when it did), and was infested with talus' (over 40 confirmed sightings. nearly 20 unconfirmed). It was enough to put you off.

Skims and Adino knew this. You'd made it a point to explain to them why you wouldn't be heading that direction ever (but apparently not ever, because here you were. planning). No matter how much money could be made harvesting minerals or trading with the locals.

Not the produce trade though, despite what one would think coming from a land known for its lava lakes and frequent wildfires.

The volcanic soil was actually an excellent source of fertilizer (which you wanted. in bulk. as much as you could shove in your mindslate). Making the region around the volcano one of the more prosperous lands for growing crops and herbs. Even when compared to the more central settlements of Hyrule, right on the bread-belt of the land (if you were willing to risk the guardians, that is).

It was a region a farmer (and merchant) could make a fortune, if they were lucky enough to hit brown gold. And if one was willing to take staggering losses everytime the volcano blew its top. And there would be losses. There always was when mother nature got involved with the lives of mortals.

No. You had been eager to get into the fish and cloth (and sand) trade. So close to the volcano, magma deposits were unusually close to the surface in the surrounding lands. And while this created the most beautiful hotspring (entire lakes worth) tourist attractions, it also limited the amount of life-sustaining (and fish-sustaining) water sources in the area. Which, in turn, limited the number of local fisheries and livestock flocks the land could sustain.

The constant presence of ash and volcanic runoff also poisoned much of the water sources in the immediate areas around the mountian. Further adding to the lack of available water sources for fish and livestock (and people too, for that matter. Hence, the sand. A natural filtering agent for locals in the area) to live off of.

So. Fish and cloth (and sand). Those had been your plan a couple years ago. Until the reality of the territory's dangers made you reconsider. And later, dismiss the idea all together.

Knowing this, of course Skims questioned your sudden interest in the northeastern part of Hyrule. A territory you had said yourself was not worth the risk of death and revenue loss to expand your business ventures into.

You had been honest with them, of course (you were always honest with your most trusted guardsmen. when confronted, at least). Though not necessarily forthcoming with the details. Which, frankly, was par for the course as far as your more private dealings were concerned.

"I'm looking to acquire localized goods for an important client." You offered in way of an explanation, letting the things you hadn't said speak volumes. And, of course, Skims merely nodded. Still looking doubtful, but willing to accept your reasoning as your own without contest.

That was another thing you liked about him, other then his fierce loyalty and care. Easy going at the best of times, accepting at the worst. You never had to worry too much about Skims poking holes in your reasonings or explanations. You just needed to pay him, and he was willing to turn a blind eye to your eccentricities.

Adino, on the other hand.

"It's a waste of damned time no matter how important this so-called client of yours is. Just use the stable system instead of draggin' us along to that Goddess forsaken hellhole." Adino snapped, irritable still so soon after the previous trip (the bite a lizalfos nearly took out of his rear near Highland Stable not having helped his already sour attitude). Narrowing his eyes at you with suspicion.

Which was fair, honestly. In any other situation, letting the stable system deliver your desired product would have been the most efficient (and cheapest) way for such a limited and precise order. What would take several months of travel for a merchant (yourself included), the system could get delivered several weeks earlier. Maybe the same amount of time, or slightly longer than originally calculated, if the weather turned unfavorable or a blood moon cluttered up previously clear roads with monsters.

Without knowledge of your mindslate or the connection you have with Link (the previously mentioned client), it does sound like a bullshit reason to undertake such a dangerous journey out of the blue. Especially when there are safer and more cost efficient methods to achieve the same results (sort of). But the fact of the matter is that the system would not be quick enough to deliver your order before Link begun his journey towards Death Mountain.

(And it would be soon. Already there were rumors of the Zora Domain's endless rains easing at the boarders.)

Tally up the timeables, and getting the merchandise yourself was the only feasible way to get ahold of what you needed when you needed it. Where the stable system would require a two way trip to acquire your goods, you needed only one way to get it yourself (and add the slate's instant delivery to Link, and you're set). It was the only way to guarantee you'd meet the rapidly approaching deadline.

Also, you didn't trust the stable system to be as discerning as yourself when choosing suitable product. While you didn't doubt they would put forth their best efforts, you acknowledged that a delivery guild probably had limited knowledge of advanced spell craft and their associated counterfeits.

You couldn't afford to make any mistakes when it was The Hero of Hyrule's life you were working to secure.

Only the very best would do for Link, after all. Even if you had to put in the footwork to ensure it.

You smiled tiredly at Adino, noting how his thin brows were pulled into a deep frow. How his eyes flickered over your road-weary face and sagging posture with veiled intent. Searching and prying and worried. Lips pulled down in displeasure.

He was worried for you. Keeping secrets (something you'd seldom done so openly before. something you'd rarely done, period). Taking seemingly unnecessary risks (something you'd never done at all before this little proposal). All behaviors that were definite red flags. All behaviors that were concerning. Especially coming from someone like you (who you'd become).

And you loved that about Adino. How quietly observant and caring he was when he cared enough to try. Even if he acted like a prickly little cactus most of the time.

"Trust me. I wish I could just let the stables handle this." You'd begun, meeting Adino's (and Skims) gazes as you continued. Sighing. "But this is something I have to do myself. It's important to me."

Skims nodded, having already accepted your reasonings regardless. And slowly, reluctantly, Adino nodded too. Still looking as surly as ever, but willing to back down quietly so long as you were in possession enough of your thoughts to acknowledge the strangeness of your current plans.

"Thank you." And you meant that. Even as the next words hurt your very soul. Perhaps even more than the damned sand (yeah right). "I'll pay you triple if you agree to accompany me as my bodyguards." Skims' and Adino's eyes lit up at that, and you could practically see the rupee signs swimming within them. The bastards.

And somehow Red was suddenly there as well, looking just as bright-eyed and eager as she nodded along with the boys.

Your brow twitched. And Red grinned. Far too many teeth caged within blood red lips.

You sighed.

'Damnit, Link. Why do you cost me so much money.'

---

Sitting on the edge of the Zora Capital's Central Reservoir, Link held the slate in his cold-numbed hands. Looking out over the misty landscape laid out far below, cushioning the shining zora city in its translucent shroud.

The divine beast calmed at his back, as was the spirit still trapped within its confines (patient. kind. understanding. even in the face of death and heartbreak).

His fingers tightened on the slate's smooth edges at the reminder. Knuckles turning white from the pressure of his grip. The chilled ache of his bones a painful burn against his exposed flesh and skin.

His shoulders begun to shake. He wanted to sleep in his own bed, with his own pillow and his own blankets. He wanted to bathe in his shiny round bowl of a bath with his nice smelling soaps and hair cleansers.

He wanted to go home.

He was afraid to go home.

But no. That wasn't true. Not really. It wasn't that he was afraid to go home (to his home. to your home).

It was that he was ashamed. Ashamed of what he had lost. Ashamed of how he had failed.

Seeing Mipha's face (and that was her name. Mipha. the zora woman he may have once loved. not some nameless face peering out of her tomb with sad, accepting eyes) had finally made him understand the weight he carried upon his shoulders now. The burden of his past failings.

And he didn't know how to reconcile these feelings. Of who he was, and the pain he'd left in the wake of his death.

And who he was now, and his inability to grieve these people who had once meant so much to him. And who, in some ways, still did. Even if he couldn't remember why he felt as such. Even as the guilt tore him apart at the seams.

Far below, in the dark waters of the Domain's endless web of rivers. The flashing white of paper slips beneath a rising current. The ink fading into the darkness of the depths.

---

AM,

Thank you for everything you've done for me. Without you, I don't know if I'd have the strength to continue on. Knowing so much has been lost because of my failure.

I'm afraid of what I'll find if I remember who I used to be. I don't think I can be the man so many remember.

I don't want to be him. He's dead. I'm not him anymore. I'm me.

Is it selfish of me to just want to be the man I am now?

I'm sorry I couldn't be stronger for you and everyone who ever believed in me. I'm sorry I don't want to remember how to be strong.

I hope one day you can forgive me.

-Link

---

Back to the shadows to rest.

I forgot the tags before sleeping! Sorry Babies, I know you already found it, but I'll still tag you regardless!

Tagging: @littlepanda7 @2000babies

[moonchild701]

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑

Wish List

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Summary: Dabi makes a Christmas wish

Pairing: Dabi/Reader (it's mostly just kinda Implied tbh)

Content Warning: Angst, SFW

Word Count: 800

Disclaimer: Character belongs to Kohei Horikoshi

A/N: This is the 1st of 12 fics for a 12 Days of Christmas event. Enjoy and Happy Holidays!

Prompt: Wish List

My Masterlist

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The crunch of ice and snow beneath bootfalls echoes within the alleyway.

Dabi's hands are stuffed into his pockets as he makes his way down the path, to the fire escape of the side of a building. The sound of creaking metal fills the still quiet of the chilly night air as he climbs it.

Settling on the roof, he stares out at the distant buildings. Normally this would be dangerous, with all the heroes patrolling, but the air is far too crisp for the average person this high up, so it's safe enough. His quirk keeps him warm, and the height keeps him out of sight.

He'd needed to get away from the others for a while. Toga's constant spiel about the holidays and how they should celebrate was getting insufferable.

When he was younger, when he was Touya, he can hardly remember the holidays being the happy and joyous time people would consider it being.

Christmas somehow felt colder than it should be. Not because of the falling snow or the chilly air, but because of the stifling atmosphere within their house.

You'd think that living under the roof of  man with a fire quirk, it'd be warm and cozy. But then you'd of course remember that it's Endeavor, so, of course.

Though, it wasn't really always like that.

At first, it was normal enough, he thinks. His mother and father would shower their first born in gifts and joy and love.

Their first born they were so happy to have, so proud of, that they'd beam when he babbled at them.

And when his quirk came in, all the more joy, playing with his two younger siblings, taking care of them. He's going to be a hero after all! Heroes take care of people!

Of course that didn't last very long, as they learned that his quirk hurts him; his body not suited to it. And in his father's eyes, a failure. A waste.

And so they had another child, one last attempt at correcting the smear on the oh so great Todoroki name.

When Shouto was born, on that cold January day, the chill of his existence seeped into their very bones. Into the walls of their home, the floors beneath their feet, the ceiling over their heads, pressing in from all sides.

As Dabi, the joy he vaguely remembers are mere fragments, they're so distant in the past.

So when Toga said she wanted to celebrate, his scars itched.

Itched like they were freshly healing, like they were raw.

He doesn't know how to celebrate anymore, doesn't know if he ever really knew.

He doesn't know if he'd be able to pretend to enjoy himself, or how he'd react if he actually does enjoy it.

Because his true wish is to be able to do that freely. But alas, his bastard of a father still breathes, and when he does take his final breath, most likely so would he. So it doesn't seem to be in his realm of possibilities.

Though, he supposes, that's really all a wishlist is for.

Wishing and hoping and dreaming for

things you want, but you know deep down isn't really possible.

Looking at a particular building, an apartment complex, he sees a little family eating dinner through open curtains.

A father, a mother, a young girl and two boys, one older than the other two.

It's what he would've had in an ideal world.

It's what he used to wish for on particularly cold nights, curled up beneath his futon, bandages around the wounds littering his tiny body and the cold indifference in his father's eyes seared into his heart.

The father in the window ruffles his eldest son with a smile just as the first few specks of snowflakes begin to fall, and Dabi thinks maybe having a little wish might not be so bad.

It's not going to come true, he knows, but he still wishes.

On a whim, he reaches out to catch a snowflake like he's seen others do.

And he makes another wish. He wishes that at least the future will be better.

That as much as Toga is a little brat, as much as Twice can be annoying, as much as Shigaraki is an ass, as much as Compress is a showy snob, as much as Spinner is a Stain kiss ass, and as much as Kurogiri has a stick up his ass......he gets to keep them.

As much as he loves and doesn't deserve you, he gets to keep you anyway.

He wishes that he can keep his new family this time, wishes that they'll keep him too. Wishes that at the end of all of this, maybe he can actually be happy.

Who knows? Maybe it'll be a Christmas miracle.

*****

The snowflakes melt before they can touch his skin.

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[szynkaaa]

Black Myth: Wukong Journal Entries Part 2

Part 1 talks about what happened to the monkeys from Mount Huaguo after SWK died

Part 2 will be about the bosses you fight in chapter 6 to get the Golden Suozi armor parts, I will be linking back to the fandom wiki for the full journal entries and some videos. I highly recommend reading the articles in full because it also talks about what kind of person Sun Wukong is/was.

Sun Wukong's armor were scattered around Mt. Huaguo and turned into creatures after he died.

Disclaimer: I am not an expert in JTTW, a lot of things are drawn up from my own conclusion.

Long text so everything is under cut!

Gold Armored Rhino

SWK has a heart of gold, lungs of silver, head of copper and iron body from being in the Furnace for 40 days

Can still feep pain when injured though

was fed iron pellet and moletn copper by mountain deities and keepers when he was buried under Five-Element Mountain for 500 years

his monkeys didn't visit him :(

also headband curse so tight his head would resmeble a gourd ouch

Golden Armored Rhino mirrors the Great Sage's indomitable spirit, never yielding to defeat

"[...] Even if its horn was shattered, it never lost the resolve to charge into battle, standing resolute and read to fight anew.

In the game, you have to shatter his horn with heavy attacks in order to be able to do a lot of damage, but the horn grows back after few seconds, so it's rise and repeat. Also the location of the armor is littered with dead soldier bodies. After the fight ZBJ says that the bosses were killing the soldiers because the soldiers were trying to get the armor pieces. Dialogue starts at 4:22

Cloudtreading Deer

Sommersault Cloud made Wukong's body invulnerable and movement agile, but his lack of patience would lead to trouble

this whole paragraph: "Immortals often say that Sun Wukong was at his most mischievous and ruthless when he was the Monkey King. Yet, during that time, aside from his battles with the Celestial Court, he rarely harmed other beings. It was only after he became a disciple, following his master and gaining direction, that he developed many thunderous methods. Stealing, robbing, kidnapping, killing, arson, and destroying mountains and caves—all became second nature to him."

Cloudtreading Deer is transformed from his Lotus Silk Cloudtreaders (the things protecting his legs)

represents both sides of his nature: free-spirited and agile nature and his inherent ferocity

Cloudtreading Deer battle has two phases, the first one where it casts stupid tornados and also moves around very fast and through the sky. I fucking hated that phase LMFAO. Second phase was easier, but also spooky the boss turns into some blood deer and it's giving me massive bloodborne vibes. Transformation starts at 8:10 in the video. Basically, phase 1 is the free spirited and agile nature of wukong, and phase 2 is his ruthleness and ferocity

Feng-Tail General

Learned human manners and speech during his travels and when he studied Dao at Mt. Lingtai

"When he left in a huff at Yingchou Stream, the Old Loong King reasoned with him, and he returned to admit his mistakes. He abandoned arbitrary actions and always heeded sound advice." -> Before they met the White Dragon horse at the Yingchou stream, Tripitaka and SWK were ambushed by bandits, and SWK killed them all, to which Tripitaka was not happy about. They fought, SWK left. He then chats with the Old Loong King of the stream, who also told SWK that there was a White Dragon and his master might be in danger, so SWK goes back to Tripitaka. Also in his absence that's when Guanyin gave Tripitaka the headband to be put onto SWK

"He forged brotherly bonds with yaoguais, engaged in jest with immortals, and exchanged banter with Bodhisattvas. His amiable nature endeared him to all, who were ever willing to offer their assistance. He had a sense of decorum and propriety." -> not much for me to add there, he becomes sworn brothers with few yaoguai, like the Bull King or Erlang Shen

"He had the ability to summon wind and rain and could seek out loongs. He could transform into guais for scouting or borrow vessels when needed. In times of trouble, he sought the aid of higher beings, seldom relying on brute force."

-> truth lol, like the amount of times he had to get help from other deities to beat up an enemy and save his master

"This Feng-Tail General, with multiple eyes on his head, had a keen understanding of both himself and his enemies. He was adept at leaping and dodging, avoiding powerful foes whenever possible, and displayed a touch of the monkey's cleverness. It's no wonder that the crown on the monkey's head grasped his nimble thoughts so well."

This is the only boss you didn't have to fight, I saw it more as a stamina / health test to test your built lol. Basically what you have to do in the game is jump onto it's head and hold onto the antenna while the grasshopper is jumping three times, and then pull the antennas out while not getting burned. And yeah in the map he is just leaping and jumping around. Honestly not even sure if you can try to fight it, I didn't bother to find out.

Emeral-Armed Mantis

"Tang Monk often advocated for kindness, while Sun Wukong was known for his punishment of evil."

"At Kui-Mu Wolf's abode, upon learning of the princess's suffering and her reluctance to leave due to her feelings for the yaoguai and children bore for him, Sun Wukong ordered Bajie to throw the yaoguai's children from the height, reducing them to two lumps of flesh." -> Referencing the arc in ch. 38-31 in JTTW, the Yellow Robe Demon, also known as Kuimulang (will abbreviate as KML). KML is one of the 28 constellations, and he had a lover. in JTTW she was reincarnated as a princess, gets kidnapped by KML, married for 13 years and they have two kids. It's those two kids where SWK orders ZBJ to throw them off.

"At Old Yang's house, after learning of the unfilial deeds of the old couple's son and seeing how they indulged him for the sake of incense offerings, he proceeded to behead the son despite Old Yang's pleas." -> Ch. 52 in JTTW, screenshot taken from here

"Sun Wukong's nature was to show no mercy to villains and evildoers; he delighted in eradicating evils and yaoguais. The numerous blood debts on the journey to the West, though each had its reasons, were mostly attributed to the monkey.

The world knew of the other three pieces of armor, but they were unaware that the mantis was actually transformed from the Great Sage's gauntlet. It seems the gauntlet inherited the Great Sage's ruthlessness, for it played tricks on Zhu Bajie with the same cunning."

The last bit refers to when ZBJ was trying to catch the mantis but it jumped into his mouth down his throat into his stomach instead and the DO had to go inside his mouth to fight the mantis.

The first half of the battle is super easy imo but then after you cut down certain % of his HP, the mantis gets a lot more aggressive. While the mantis was inside ZBJ stomach, it is cutting on its wall, hence ZBJ is doubling over in pain. So I guess this refers to how ruthless SWK can be

[yermes]

PAC: 🫎

Things to remember when you are learning something new.

I got my new job its kinda bitter sweet. I am living through the bell jar allegory heavy ATM.

Disclaimer: please take what I say with a grain of salt and not as the gospel. I just want to share some ideas of practicing and giving advice using the medium as often as I can with school, work, and my own personal studies and practice. But I am working on sharing my notes soon so that will be exciting! Liking and sharing does a lot 🥰

Socials: TipJar | Insta

Pick a meme

The cards

Pile one

Bear + lady 🐻 🐞 

Life is small of tiny litter deaths and tragedies. You can get through this using your inner strength and your mental willpower. But be careful. Maybe when learning a new skill strong arming this powerful nature could end up in tragedy. Take a second to LEARN.

Pile 2

Whip + Child 👧🏼 📿

New beginnings rarely go off without a hitch. There may be a hard adjustment period which may be rough while you are still so young and naive to new situations like this. Its a beginning though while it will be hard at first its worth it to work through till the end

Pile 3

Lillies + Moon 🌙 🌸 

The idea of a new beginning may be very alluring and dream like but TBH. Its deceitful. The hard part is when people try and make it harder. Good luck and godspeed and do not sleep w your co workers bf. (I am being silly)

Extras: ❤️

Story/vent:

With love always

[bakuliwrites]

Sneak peek for an Astarion x Tav fic I'm working on. I'm working on this in tandem with the requests in my inbox, but this fic promises to be a bit longer than my previous Astarion fic. Aiming to have it out by the end of October :) This is just the first little segment of it. DISCLAIMER: ACT 3 SPOILERS, mentions of blood, body horror, fluff and angst

Astarion feels his lungs fill with dirt and ash, clogging his chest. It stifles him, fuzzy moss growing on the surface of his organs, filling the empty space between bone and flesh. He tastes peat on his lips, lips that seep dark ichor with each scrape against the sharpened edges of his fangs. Fangs that rip and shred and taste of iron and death. The sleek muscle of his tongue grazes fibrous scraps of blood clots, trapped in the spaces between his teeth. He tries to move his limbs, but the earth piling on top of him is too heavy, too crushing. Astarion is small and insignificant, a tiny pebble amongst the mountain of dirt surrounding him. A figure lords over the elf, smiling coldly. Cazador’s wicked, gleaming eyes glint as he lets out a low, mocking laugh before shrouding Astarion in endless darkness.

But as the shadows engulf him, Astarion gasps for air and, thankfully, manages to fill his lungs. Gone is the stuffy moss, the clumps of choking dirt. A tender hush, a gentle caress pulls him from this familiar nightmare. 

“Shhh,” your voice reaches out, anchoring him to reality, “It’s okay, Astarion. You’re safe. You’re here with me and you’re safe.” 

His eyes search blindly, the remnants of his night terror a near impenetrable fog. He seeks you through scent, the metal of your blood blooming in his nose, near and warm. He does not need sight to know you, grasping desperately at your form before the room has a chance to swim back into his vision. His surroundings are plush, soft, and comforting. Deeply, gratefully familiar. Your gentility engulfs him, arms holding his shuddering form close, the thrum of your heart pounding in his ears. 

“You’re safe, my love,” you repeat, over and over in whispered reassurance, rocking him back and forth. His fingers dig into your nightgown, his grasp on you desperate, fearful that if he lets go, Cazador might crawl out from the shadows and drag him away. 

“He’s gone,” you gently remind, your breath fanning through his hair, voice low and calm, “He’s gone and he’s never coming back. You’re safe.” 

It’s not been long enough for Astarion to believe this. There’s some piece of him that still thinks he’ll never be free of Cazador. Never be free of his tyranny. In a sense, he never will be. He will never feel the sun on his skin again. Never gaze upon himself on any reflective surfaces. His hunger will always be sanguine. Darkness will forever be his home. Maybe, overtime, he will learn to accept these things. Maybe, he will learn to cope. But for now, Astarion allows himself to sob into the crook of your neck, his tears soaking the collar of your nightclothes. He lets you litter tiny kisses amongst the snowy curls atop his head and rub small circles onto his scarred back. He lets himself be comforted knowing that he is not alone in the world. Not anymore. And perhaps that’s all he can ask for for now. 

[real-live-human]

Requesting that you talk about Finch

sniles at you.

ok so first up: a disclaimer that finch has had and likely will continue to have her story rewritten in pretty significant ways, so. no promises as to how much of this stays accurate or will line up with whatever i've said in the past. also secondary disclaimer that in the interest of getting to write more i will be making this more or less a completely comprehensive infodump on everything i have on her at present, so who knows how organised it'll end up.

so! the very basic introduction is that finch is a kholo - the term being taken from pathfinder 2e's renamed gnolls, but basically think big anthro hyena people. she was initially a dnd character, and i still have her set in a broadly medieval-fantasy-ish world, although she isn't really bound to the specifics of any published rpg system or setting these days. she's on the short and scrawnier end for her people, but still damn big next to a human, and in addition to being a skilled fighter, has gotten by thanks to (somewhat poorly-defined) magical abilities. (more on that later!)

finch's life can more or less be characterised by both being a victim of circumstance, and tending to not make very good choices. one older detail i'm debating whether or not to keep "canon" is that basically, when she was born, a disease swept through her clan, killing a lot of cubs and new mothers. while obviously nobody could really blame her for that, it did lead to people considering her to have been born under a bad sign, so to speak. either way, her early life was... not great. while fairly communal and focused on supporting everyone in the clan, kholo culture can also tend to be a bit of a meritocracy where anyone who isn't "pulling their weight" gets looked down on. finch, as the runt of her litter and permanently affected by the aforementioned childhood illness (if we keep that canon), was just never as big or strong as others her age. this also led to a bit of a self-fulfilling prophecy, where others' disdain for her caused her to isolate herself, which in such a community-focused culture, did not improve anyone's opinion.

what changed was another kholo named blackthorn (just thorn when she met finch - kholos get their second and eventually third names at major milestones). she was a mirror of finch in a lot of ways - well respected, strong, one of her generation's up and coming hunters. for reasons nobody else could really explain, the two actually got on really well together, and blackthorn came to be the one person finch really considered a friend. finch was still not broadly popular, but through a mixture of social connections via blackthorn and actually believing that maybe she wasn't destined to fuck everything up, things started to look up for finch. she gained status as a reasonably talented hunter, and despite remaining a bit of a black sheep, became somewhat more respected, if not always liked.

from her status as my official Angst Character, you will not be surprised to learn that this did not last. something happened - in earlier versions of her story, she gets a family member killed on a hunt and spirals right back into self-doubt, but i'm not too sure on the specifics as of now. regardless of what it was, finch's good fortune and reputation began to turn. i mentioned that kholo society's focus on supporting the clan as a whole has its darker side, and eventually finch came to be seen as a threat, having become more reckless and endangered her clanmates while out hunting. blackthorn found out that the oussla (essentially the leading council) planned to put her on trial for these charges, and told finch as much.

she took this about as well as you might guess. finch had been meant to be taken to trial the next morning, and so that night, just before dawn, she tried to slip out unnoticed. blackthorn caught up to her, and this led to a confrontation. blackthorn was convinced that she could vouch for finch and talk the oussla down from the usual penalties of execution or exile, but finch was sick of trying to rely on the clan's rules. when finch refused to stay, blackthorn tried to stop her, the two got into a brief fight, and after injuring blackthorn, finch managed to escape into the night. she would never see her clan again.

unfortunately, life outside the clan is not particularly easy. as i mentioned, the details of the broader setting are still pretty blurry, but humans and whatever other sapients exist tend to be disposed to see kholos as monstrous, or even outright demons. so finch managed to get by in self-imposed exile, although not without frequent conflict with human society. eventually, in a scrap with some soldiers after being caught stealing food, she was very nearly killed - she took a spear-butt to the head, was knocked down, and by all rights should have been skewered then and there. what changed her fortune this time could not have possibly been blackthorn.

time seemed to stop, and the entire world was coated in a haze of ash and smoke. a figure appeared out of the smoke, and although it was impossible to distinguish as more than a blurry silhouette, finch could swear it sounded just like blackthorn. it told her that if she wanted to survive, to not die at the end of some human's spear in a back-alley in the middle of nowhere, it could help her - but only if she let it. by all rights, she probably should have been more hesitant of it, but it sounded so much like her, and she wanted so badly to believe that blackthorn had found her somehow, that she accepted. an instant later, as the spearman tried to finish off his quarry, she seemed to dissipate into smoke for just a moment, long enough to flow up past his weapon and get her teeth into him.

this is where we get to her poorly-defined magic, mentioned earlier. the thing-that-is-not-blackthorn seems to have granted her some ability to phase in and out of solidity, vanishing into smoke and dust just long enough to slip past all manner of dangers. what exactly the being-that-could-not-have-been-blackthorn gets out of this "deal" is unclear, partially intentionally on my part, and partially because i have yet to work it out. using this magic too much does seem to take a toll on finch's health, burning through her own energy, but any strict benefit to that-which-she-desperately-wants-to-think-is-blackthorn is unclear. however, if it wasn't already obvious, it absolutely is not blackthorn - it may be some sort of amalgam of all of finch's guilt and fear and anger taken metaphysical form, or perhaps it's something entirely distinct from her, just taking the form of the only friend she ever had to manipulate her! the possibilities are numerous.

i. thiiiink that covers everything? there's a few miscellaneous notes i could add (like how finch is still just finch whereas thorn became blackthorn represents finch's disconnect from her own people, having never had that naming ceremony, or that i am partially ripping off how spirits work from a webcomic i really liked about 10 years ago) but if you want to know Who Finch Is and What's Her Deal, i'm pretty sure this covers it all. many thanks for asking :3

[justslowdown]

Hope you don't mind me asking! I was planning to get a crossbred puppy/dog last year, but ended up with a purebred anyway because none of the litters/parents I looked into had been tested beyond a once-over and "appears healthy," and I didn't have the heart to risk it. Most of the people I spoke to claimed it wasn't necessary (ew) bc u kno crosses and magic. What health tests did you prioritize on Kai and Callista before breeding and how did you choose?

Are you kidding THANK you for asking! You’ll regret it after scrolling past this overinvolved answer, though.

Yeah, the first thing I tell people when they start looking for a crossbred puppy: just like there are more breeders of purebred dogs who don’t test than who do, the same applies for crosses. It might take more legwork to find the ones who do (and we’re out there!) though…

Tldr; plenty of breeders across the board, pure and crossbred, do not health test stock as thoroughly as they should. Many others use tests to justify risky high-COI pairings. It’s tougher to track down the breeders who both test and breed for maximized genetic diversity, but imo, it’s worth it if your goal is stacking the health odds in your favor. Purebred dogs from good breeders have their own merits but even going that route, COI (coefficient of inbreeding) is important.

To answer your question: Kai has been tested for all the problems OFA recommends checking for in both of his breeds. The website’s really handy for looking at statistics when deciding what tests are important to you, too. 

Both breeds can have eye issues so he’s been CAER tested by a vet ophthalmologist and cleared. Shelties have some common testable diseases (CEA, MDR1, PRA) though the ones Siberians have are extremely uncommon. He’s tested clear/non-carrier for a huge range of diseases so I’m comfortable breeding him to Callie, a dog from a pure breed where genetic testing isn’t really necessary. I decided hip scoring WAS important for both breeds, and luckily both are OFA “Good” (Kai’s are prelims but his growth plates are closed and by the numbers, his score is extremely unlikely to change). Callie has only had her eyes looked at by my normal breeding vet, not officially, but he says he’d be comfortable breeding her and Kai’s CAER test was perfect. This is my last chance to do this pairing, so. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  Choice made.

Why are we harder to find? Some of it’s the “hybrid vigor means I don’t have to test” myth but a lot of us just…. kind of do our thing and keep quiet about it. We can’t compete in AKC sports with our intact mixes, are gossiped about or targeted for harassment by show breeders (Desertwindhounds has a story about basically being kicked out of the saluki breedclub for it. don’t think she’s still active on here tho), we aren’t allowed in a lot of Facebook groups. I’ve been booted from or not accepted into a ton for talking about it. It’s the kind of thing that you can’t be super open about if you want to fit in with the more health-testy side of the breeding community, a few breeds excluded. 

Definitely a big thing in non-AKC sports, especially agility and flyball, though! The “Sport Bred Mixes” fb group is a good place to find crossbreeders who health test if you want a higher drive puppy. There’s also a secret group that’s a little involved to join. pm me about it… people came in, screenshotted discussions, and stirred up shit in other fb groups about individuals in this crossbreeding group. Gotta love… online dog communities…… :/ 

There are actually a lot of good breeders who allow people to use studs for crossbreeding projects with the stipulation that word doesn’t get out about it. Sad some feel that’s necessary but so glad people are becoming more open to it. And breed club outcross projects are becoming more common in some countries!

Finally… more soapboxing…

Health testing is important but so is inbreeding management. Due to the invention of closed studbooks, and ideas of “bettering breeds” and “only breeding the best of the best…” diversity has fallen by the wayside in most breeding communities. When buying or adopting a mix, you get the bonus of higher genetic diversity than is possible within a single breed. Still plenty of risks but at least the COI is likely to be low.

Research is starting to illuminate the benefits of mixing breeds (or maximizing genetic diversity within a breed, like the standard poodle lifespan survey) when it comes to health. It’s pretty basic inheritance that recessive, breed-specific diseases are much less likely to double up and become an issue in a mix or pairing with exceptionally low COI. Keep in mind that tests have only been developed for a relative few of such diseases. This ICB post sums it up pretty well.

Despite what many say, a growing and already substantial body of research points towards higher fertility and lower puppy mortality, lower prevalence of genetic disorders, longer lifespan, etc etc etc in mixed breed dogs, even without health tests being used to breed the vast majority of them. There’s posts gathering together resources on that here, here, and here. Or just poke around the ICB website.

That’s why, personally, I was comfortable buying otherwise perfect-for-me puppy Kai despite his parents’ lack of health testing, while I probably wouldn’t for a purebred. Because… yeah. I feel you. It’s pretty damn hard to find a crossbreeder who both has what you want and does adequate health screening. 

[writingseaslugs]

Pomefiore NSFW Headcanons

Still having heart eyes for Rook as I write this. He’s just so freaking fine. Also, sorry if Epel falls a little short on the details. He’s not my exact favorite, so I find it hard to write for him. Same with Riddle tbh.

Disclaimer: All characters in this series is aged up. For more information about my version of this world and the type of reader you can expect, please do a quick read of THIS post. This post also has explicit content. If you’re under the age of 18, or are uncomfortable with this form of content, please skip this post. Content Warning: Oral Sex, Body Worship, Predator/Prey Dynamics, Semi-Public Sex, Edging, Loss of Virginity, Slight Overstimulation, Bruises, Hickeys.

Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore (You're Here) | Ignihyde | Diasomnia

NSFW Headcanons

Vil Schoenheit

The first time with Vil is going to be well-planned on his end. Everything is going to be perfect. He’ll discuss becoming more intimate with you, but if your makeout sessions get a bit too steamy, he’ll pull away. He has a vision for your first time, and nothing will taint it. When it’s time, expect to show up to a room with candles, probably having a nice warm bubble bath with wine (or juice if you don’t drink) and a little foreplay. He’s going to lay you on his sheets and learn every part of his body while unraveling you and discovering what noises you make.

It doesn’t matter if it’s your ultimate kink; Vil will never do anything public. The most you’ll get is a chaste kiss from him. He has a reputation he has to uphold, and if it ever came out that he even got slightly steamy with his partner in public…it’ll become a scandal. Tabloids will go nuts. He understands this, and it’s not a good look for either of you, so he makes it very clear that he will never do something like that in public.

He will worship his partner's body without question. Vil doesn’t need you to return the favor; people are always telling him these things. He just wants to make sure you get your fill as well. Especially if his lover is a bit insecure. All of those will be washed away with his words and the feeling of his lips. He will make you feel like you are the fairest of them all by the end of the night.

Vil, to no surprise, is more of a dominant lover. He likes being in charge of what’s going on. Control has its own beauty, and he needs it when being intimate with his partner. When he blindfolds them, and they’re whimpering under his touch, it drives him wild. He never loses his composure, always so poise when he’s fucking you. If he ever lets you switch things up, edge him. It’s the only way you’ll ever see a whiny Vil who’s almost in tears.

His favorite position is missionary. He wants to not only be able to see your face while he makes love to you, but he wants you to be able to see him. He will be showering you with compliments and sometimes even bring you into a mating press if he’s had a really stressful day. Entwine your hand with his own while he fucks you. It’s that kind of intimacy that he craves more often than not.

Rook Hunt

Rook has a thing for predator/prey type dynamics. Don’t be expecting him to be growling and biting, though; it’s the chase he wants. It’s different from the normal one. Hide from him in school, evade his advances. Try not to be caught in his arms. By the end of the the day, he’ll have you in bed, whispering about how tricky you were today and how much fun it was trying to locate you and chase you down.

Rook also enjoys worshiping his partner’s body. He’ll be using more flowery words mixed with a few filthy phrases. He likes to rile you up by kissing every inch of your skin except where you need him. Laughing and telling you to be patient, and he’ll make you feel so good; he just needs to get a good look at his prize first. He’ll litter your skin with little nips here and there, watching as you squirm under him.

He is going to edge you. Seeing your tear-filled eyes as you buck your hips up into him, trying to get more of that delicious friction. He loves hearing you whining out his name, thrashing under him as he pulls away right as you are about to cum. He’ll then litter your skin with kisses, saying you’re doing so good for him and how he wants to see you desperate for a little longer.

He loves going down on his partner. It goes with the edging. He’ll use his mouth to bring you so close that you think he’s finally going to let you cum, only to take away and kiss your thighs. He’ll be grinding his hips against the mattress, your reactions making him go insane. Despite his love for oral, he never lets you finish like that. He prefers feeling how well you clench around his length as you come completely undone by him.

Rook is well aware of his surroundings. He knows the best places to go to be hidden, secret nooks that were left abandoned that no student would ever think to look at. He’ll drag you off to one, hand down your pants as he teases you. You should know to trust that he’d never let anyone see you like this. Still, you’ll need to keep the noises down. Just because you’re hidden from sight doesn’t mean if a student gets close enough, they won’t be able to hear your pitiful whimpers as Rook plays with you.

Epel Felmier

You were Epel’s first kiss, so when it comes to sex…well, he’s never gotten close enough to discuss it with anyone. It’s an awkward topic that he’ll dance around for a while until it becomes unbearable. You’ll be making out with him at Ramshackle; he can feel how hard he is and moaning into your mouth, but always has you stop before your hand can even undo the first button of his uniform. It’s going to take a while before you guys actually do anything.

What really pushes Epel into going all the way with you is how Rook commented about wonderful it is to be wrapped around your partner in such an intimate way. Epel wanted that with you, so that night, he shows up at your door, and his lips are crashing into your own. Grim is long since asleep, so you two head to one of the spare rooms you’d cleaned up, and it’s time for Epel to learn a thing or two about anatomy…a lesson he doesn’t want to ever take from Vil or Rook.

Epel wants to be the dominant one. He doesn’t like the thought of being a whimpering submissive. He already has issues with people seeing him as submissive because of his smaller frame, so in this situation, he really wants to be on top. You might need to help him out, but once he gets the hang of things, you can let him take it from there. He’s a sponge for knowledge, if anything, with how he has to remember things from his dorm. Thankfully, this is more hands-on, and it’s something he enjoys a lot.

He likes making you cum, a little bit too much. Seeing someone unravel in front of him, totally vulnerable and whimpering his name… sends shivers down his spine. It’s going to take him a while to figure out how to get you to cum multiple times in a night, but oh boy. Once he does, you’re going to be twitching from the overstimulation. Your legs will be jelly by the end of the night.

Epel loves leaving love marks all over your skin. It’s a bit of his possessive side, wanting everyone to know you’re his. So he’s going to be leaving them everywhere he can. Even if you’re not having sex and just on the couch, he’ll drag you onto his lap and leave a hickey on your neck. If Vil finds out, Epel is getting dragged to a room and lectured about how inappropriate that is. He’ll be leaving marks in less noticeable places in the near future.

[lycanlovingvampyre]

MAG 103 Relisten

Activity on my first listen: putting up a new fence

I heard some people were surprised by the pig facts? I guess I'm being a redneck again? XD That's just stuff you learn when you grow up in the countryside.

"and their manure is great for composting." And omg, the smell of pigs is really quite something... I generally avoid going into the pig's barn at my grandparents in law's farm. Can't get that smell out of your clothes, your hair... A few years back someone in the area where I live fertilized their field with pig manure and it was dreadful... Luckily only happened once. Even the farmers around here were complaining.

"at around three or four hundred kilos" My fucking horse weighs 450 kilos. So that really, reaaaally big for a pig.

"Part of me did consider immediately trying to send it for slaughter" I wonder what would happen, if people were to eat meat from Monster Pig...?

"But as I got closer, I saw that they were scars. Shot scars, most of them, with some that looked like they might have been from spikes or axes." Nago/Okkoto?

"The first year they did it there was a lot of trash left behind we had had to clean up, but apparently someone bashed the right heads about it, since last year there was barely a cigarette stub left." Shit like this is actually a problem, there doesn't even have to be an event. Some people will just litter their trash, other people are just careless. And that trash then lands in the food for our animals.

"But instead, I felt it settle next to me, the meat of it sinking into the spaces left by my position. It was pressing up against me, and let out the most contented sound I have ever heard from a pig. The message could not have been clearer: ‘Friend’." Awww! But yeah, that farmer always fed Monster Pig. He never treated it badly. Of course Monster Pig thinks he's a friend. Until now he didn’t even do anything against it, so one could argue he’s complicit with the Fear?

"When you explained the situation, I hoped you’d have some special trick for dealing with it, but I suppose welding scrap metal around the pen and filling it with cement just about works" Our first problem being solved with concrete!

"Those pigs didn’t deserve what that thing did to them. Tearing them apart and eating them." Go vegan? Or, vegetarian would actually be enough for that. It’s something you should always be aware of when you eat meat. (Disclaimer: I'm a flexitarian. So I do still eat meat. Hell, my grandpa in law turned his pigs into delicious smoked meat...)

"Oh, and if you’re hungry, I’ve got some bacon in the freezer I’m going to cook up. ... What?" Lol. It sounded earlier like this was a transcribed statement. So Dylan Anderson did not write it down himself (because of that bit about "Oh, uh, when you’re writing this up, make it’s clear that we’re near the Marlborough Forest"). Still funny, that the transcriber would include the “What?”.

JON: "I currently have nothing to indicate where Gertrude might have travelled next, but I… I have a hunch Kurt Anderson might be able to help." He stops himself there. Was he going to say "I Know"? Still in denial about that?

KURT: “Yeah, but he didn’t say how. Told me some weird guy turned up afterwards, and she went off with him in a real hurry. So Gerry suddenly turned up with some horrible news. Can’t remember if we hear what it was exactly?

Interesting how Kurt Anderson doesn't notice he's been compelled until he gets the juicy stuff pulled out of him...

KURT: [Afraid] "What are you?!" I'm sure this hurt Jon. Now even others refer to him as... not human. He did absolutely chose to use compulsion here though. Why play investigations on hard mode if you can just cheat your way through it? And Jon later says he likes it. To be completely honest, I would use the hell out of that myself. Would probably save me a lot of nerves and time.

Jon finally puzzled together that the tunnels are a blind spot!

DAISY: "Right. So, if he’s not paying attention, and I kill you down here…" Oh man, I HATED Daisy back then.

Jon meeting up with murder cop, upon his wish alone and not because Elias told Daisy to escort Jon, heavily suspecting Elias can't watch (and therefore protect) him just so he can organize a bit of safety for the others <3

JON: "No. No. I was, I was… I was thinking. This… Section 31 unit that, that you’re a part of –" DAISY: [Insistent] "Not a unit! Just paperwork." JON: "Right but, but… what do they think about Elias?" DAISY: "Best avoided. Pretty harmless. Um, crimes involving the Institute get people sectioned, but he’s not an active threat." JON: "If we had evidence that he was an active threat, that he was killing people, he, he was the one threatening to make all of your stuff public, do you think they’d move against him?" DAISY: "… Maybe." Martin's stunt in MAG 118 is a JonMartin collaboration!

DAISY: "You sure you want to talk with that thing running?" JON: "Oh. Um, I-I… I didn’t … didn’t realise I’d turned it on." Was there ever an instance, where Jon unknowingly turned on the tape recorder himself? I think it was always the tape recorders acting on their own. Maybe Jon doubts his own mind, questioning himself if he's the one doing this? (I mean, we know that as least most of the time it's not him, it has happened plenty of time where the recorder was out of reach or Jon wasn't even there at all.) Also, since the tape recorders do work in the tunnels, it is kind of implied that the tapes are not the Eye.

@a-mag-a-day

[kutemouse]

PS5 (Yeonjun Version, One-Shot, Angst)

Disclaimers: I don’t own the gif I used for my header (obviously) 😁 Creator is credited. Any and all lyrics from “PS5” belong to Salem Ilese, Alan Walker, and Tomorrow x Together.

A Note from Kutemouse: This one-shot is inspired by the song “PS5” that Yeonjun and Taehyun collaborated on with Salem Ilese and Alan Walker. When I first heard the song, I wasn’t sure if I liked it, but after a few listens, I came to appreciate it, and now it’s running on repeat in my head 😂 It seemed like a fun project for Yeonjun and Taehyun. I enjoyed the creative wordplay and the banter between the two voices in the song, as well as hearing the gamer’s point of view.

I can’t tell you how many people I’ve heard complain about their partners constantly playing video games. Most notable was my old roommate who complained that her boyfriend wouldn’t even bother letting her play with him. I totally get that. I’ve had partners who ignore me for their game, and it’s hella frustrating. My husband loves video games, but so do I, and he always invites me to play with him. That’s why he’s my husband 😁 A couple who games together wins together ❤️ Seems like Yeonjun needs to learn that lesson 😉

(Basically Unedited)

Rating: PG

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Hella angst, swears, more angst, yelling at each other, ALL CAPS type dialogue (it gets bad okay), Yeonjun being a supreme jerk

Word Count: There are words.

Master List

PS5 Taehyun Version (Coming Soon!)

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

PS5 (Yeonjun Version, One-Shot, Angst)

You turned your key in the lock, sighing. Finally. Holy hell, it had been a long day. Between your boss and clients giving you the runaround, you couldn’t seem to get off work before 10 pm these days. But upon coming inside your home, you wished you could’ve worked longer.

Crushed, empty cans were strewn about the floor, half-full ones perched on various furniture. A couple of grease-stained pizza boxes littered the corner, and a pile of dirty hoodies, gym shorts, and socks covered every part of the couch your boyfriend wasn’t sitting in. Even the air smelled unclean, heavy with the stench of fast food, sweat, and the sandalwood-scented cologne used to cover it all up. A cologne that could belong to none other than your boyfriend, Choi Yeonjun.

You precariously made your way through the front room, where you could just make out your boyfriend hunched over against the blaring light of the tv, to deposit your bag on the kitchen table. Dishes stained with food nearly covered its entirety, forcing you to pull out a chair just so you could have a place for your bag to sit in.

“Yeonjun!” you called out as you opened the fridge.

No response.

“Yeonjun!” you called out again, louder.

“What?” His normally playful lilt sounded annoyed.

“Where’s dinner?”

“What?!”

“Oh, for fucks’s sake-” you muttered as you headed towards the living room.

Your once-sweet, handsome-as-fuck boyfriend didn’t even turn as you walked in, his dark eyes glued to the screen, his soft, plump lips pursed in concentration. He had one headphone on still, the other perched behind his ear. You took a deep breath to calm yourself. “Yeonjun.”

“Oh, hey jagi. I didn’t realize you were home.”

You bit your lip to stop from snapping at him, letting out a huff. “Yes, I just got home. Where’s dinner?”

“I actually haven’t eaten yet. Could you order us some food?”

You scoffed. “Are you serious?”

Sensing your irritation, Yeonjun spared you a .2 second glance before returning to his game. “Yeah. We gotta eat, don’t we?”

“Fine.”

You stormed back into the kitchen and yanked your wallet from your bag. You knew the only place open at this hour was the Thai place across town, and they charged extra for deliveries so far away. “Fucking hell,” you grumbled before dialing their number. They took your order, but it wouldn’t be delivered for an hour much to the agony of your rumbling stomach.

You went and changed into pajama shorts and a tank top before deciding to clean up a bit. You loaded the pizza boxes in your arms, placing empty cans on top of them, trying to get as much of the trash cleaned up in one trip as possible. What you didn’t anticipate was the one pizza box that didn’t make it into the pile in the corner yet did end up right in your way. You shrieked as you tripped, cardboard and aluminum cascading down on your head.

“Jagi?” Yeonjun asked, not bothering to turn his head. “You alright?”

“That’s IT!” You picked yourself up and marched over to the tv, yanking the power cord out of the wall.

“Hey, what the fuck?!” Yeonjun shouted before finally noticing you.

Week-old soda dripped from the ends of your hair, staining your top, and doing nothing to quench the anger blazing in your eyes. “Yeonjun, I have HAD IT!” you bellowed. “You’ve barely looked at me for a fortnight now! Ever since you got that PS5, all you’ve done is play video games all day, every day! I understand PS5’s are hard to come by, and you’ve been anticipating this for almost a year now, but FUCK! You could at least acknowledge me when I come in from work! Or, I don’t know, order dinner? Clean up the place? Do the FUCKING DISHES?!”

Your voice rose higher and higher in volume and pitch as you ranted, finally getting the feelings you had been holding in off your chest. Yeonjun stared at you in shock, rose-red lips parted, eyes wide, headphones hanging loosely around his neck. “Jagi, I-”

“I’m not finished!” you snapped. “I don’t recall agreeing to be in a three-way relationship with you and your gaming console, Yeonjun! So you decide, it’s either me or the PS5!”

“What do you want from me, jagi?!” Yeonjun shouted back. “I’m here, aren’t I?! I’m still going to bed with you every night! It’s not like I’m going out and acting shady as fuck, hitting on other girls and shit like other guys! You know exactly where I am, sitting here, online, playing with my friends!”

“As if that makes it better!” you spat. “Just because you’re physically here doesn’t mean you’re emotionally here! Hell, you’re not even mentally here with me, you’re off in some fake world, enjoying the company of the voices in your headset over your hard-working, loving girlfriend!”

Yeonjun didn’t reply, his dark eyes boring into yours, narrow with anger. The speechlessness between the two of you grew until it pressed against your chest, causing your throat to tighten and tears to spring to your eyes. “This isn’t what I wanted,” you choked out before running to your bedroom.

You slammed the door, sliding down until you hit the floor, buried your face in your arms, and sobbed. You didn’t know how long you cried for, you just know you cried until your head ached and your eyes stung. You cried for all the time your boyfriend had wasted gaming instead with you. You cried for the mess your house was in. You cried for the hard day you had at work. But mostly, you cried for yourself. For how stupid you felt as you realized that fucking black and white box was more of a priority for Yeonjun than your relationship. If you could take it outside and run it over along with your love for him, you would.

After your sobs had subsided, you wrapped a blanket around yourself and curled into a ball on the bed, your entire being numb. The door opened, casting a strip of light over your face. You groaned, turning away. “Jagi?” Yeonjun’s voice was filled with remorse. “Jagi, I’m sorry.”

You didn’t bother replying, tightening the blankets around you so Yeonjun couldn’t see the pain on your face. He sat on the bed beside you and stroked your shoulder, his fingers dancing over you. “You’re absolutely right,” he murmured. “I let myself get carried away, and you forced me to look around and realize what the hell I’ve been missing. You’ve been the best girlfriend ever, buying me the PS5 and letting me spend hours on it… And I haven’t even bothered returning the favor.”

You sniffled, fresh tears running down. Yeonjun pulled you upright, concern lacing his dark eyes. “Jagi, please,” he said, running his thumb over your cheek. “Please don’t cry. I’m so, so sorry. I can’t believe what an asshole I’ve been.”

“I didn’t think you loved me anymore,” you sobbed, letting yourself melt into his arms. “You’ve never gone so long without paying attention to me.”

“I know, I know, I’ve been a total jerk,” he said, his voice cracking.

You sat there for a while, letting him hold you as you cried a bit more. Yeonjun chuckled darkly. “What?” you asked, sitting up and drying your eyes.

“I was just thinking,” he said, stroking your cheek. “No matter how much I game, the greatest prize I’ll ever win… Is you.”

You finally allowed yourself to look into Yeonjun’s eyes. “Really?”

The corner of his mouth turned up. “Really.”

Then his lips were suddenly on yours, enveloping them in a kiss. You hungrily devoured each others’ mouths, lips pushing and pulling at each other until you were practically dizzy. “Fuck, I love you,” he murmured, pulling you in for more.

“I love you too,” you groaned between kisses.

He smiled, relishing the effect he had on you still. “And jagiya?”

“Mmmm?”

“If it were a choice between you and the PS5, you know I’d always choose you, right?”

You smiled and blushed, burying your face in his shoulder. It took two seconds for you to lean back, wrinkling your nose in disgust. “Well, I know how you can make it up to me… Starting with a long shower.”

Yeonjun smirked. “Only if you take one with me.”

You playfully smacked his arm, rolling your eyes. “I’m serious!” he protested. “After our shower, I’ll clean our place up, and then? I’m gonna teach you how to play.”

Your eyes widened. “Seriously?”

Yeonjun nodded, placing a kiss on the tip of your nose. “Seriously. There’s nothing more I love than being with you.”

[t-lostinworlds]

Truth or Drink (Tom Holland)

[YouTube AU: Video 2]

a/n: this took a while asdfghjkl this was in my drafts since oct. at 7k already (but got distracted with other WIPs as always) and was suggested by this anon back in aug. so i’m sorry this took a so long hun. also, the gif took a fucking while too ‘cause we are extra in this house haha (i mean, i wanted the time in the vid to match the wc so ha). anyway, enough babbling and let’s get into the video! lol, i hope you guys enjoy this one!

summary: You and Tom do a couples Q&A where you spilled steamy secrets with the help from alcohol. pairing: tom holland x fem!reader warnings: dialogue bonanza (lots of laughing and asking), alcohol consumption, secret spilling (from both parties), teasing from everyone (will include dirty jokes from the lads), mentions of smut & risque aka sex-themed questions. word count: 14.2k+ (aha enjoy!)

☰ youtube channel | previous video << ǁ >> next video ☰ masterlist on bio & pinned post

⚠ DISCLAIMER: this is a multi-part (not a series) which is basically one-shots happening in the same universe meaning you don’t need to read the previous one to understand this one since they are not heavily connected plot wise. although each fic does happen chronologically, you don’t need to read them in order much like how you don’t need to watch youtube videos in order.

-:-:-:-:-

You knew something was about to happen the moment you walked into the dining area, the way Tom immediately went to latch onto you like a koala bear—as if he hasn't seen you just minutes before—tells all.

"What are you up to now?" you asked with a playful scrunch of your nose.

You rested your hands on his shoulders, the fabric of his pink hoodie—while you wore his other pink hoodie, outfits not at all planned since you just took the first thing you saw in his closet—soft to the touch as you took a glance at the camera that was set up at the head of the dining table. The greenery of the outside world behind the glass doors served as a backdrop to the shot.

The crease between your brows deepened at the sight, gaze landing back on the boy attached to your hip who was hugging you sideways with a certain glow in his eyes.

"I'm not up to anything," Tom denied, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck to litter the skin with sweet and soft kisses. Although the gesture made your heart melt, it also made your suspicion grow. You just know there was more to this than meets the eye.

Strong arms staying around your torso, Tom pulled away slightly so he could meet your gaze again, a certain smile growing on his lips, one you know too well. It was the usual smile he wears whenever he wants something from you, a favor perhaps. An all too powerful grin that had you made him get away with things—mostly stupid ones—easily that you aren't exactly proud to admit.

"Tom," you warned with a raise of a brow, enough seriousness and command in your tone that he was quick to give in.

"Okay, okay, we're shooting the next video," he chuckled, tracing your jaw with the tip of his nose before giving it a soft peck. "Which I am hoping you'll do with me still," he murmured, placing another kiss on your cheek before pulling away to look at you fully as he flashed you a not-so-innocent smile.

Bingo.

Tom just doesn't suddenly become so clingy—well, he normally is but more than usual anyway—especially out of nowhere without it having an underlying reason.

You narrowed your eyes at him skeptically. You stayed silent as you weighed your odds, if the enjoyment of making the video was worth it for you to endure the obvious embarrassment that would come with it. You do love this YouTube thing he's got going on, you truly do enjoy being a part of it. But with the things he's spilled in the last video, you just want to make sure that this time won't be too much, though you highly doubt it.

It was hilarious how his bottom lip started to go at your reaction, eyes turning rounder, cuter that would give Puss in Boots a run for his money. And just as you counted in your head, three, two, one—

"Please, darling? Do it with me?" Tom cooed, placing his head on your shoulder as he gave your waist a loving squeeze, fluttering his eyelashes at you in the most adorable of ways with that cute pout to match. It was his signature look whenever he wanted something, the look of handsome and adorable persuasion. "I'll keep the secret-spilling at a minimum, love. And besides, we can always edit it out."

You let out a soft sigh, shaking your head at the fact that you're saying yes either way. You can never say no whenever he puts on that very persuasive face of his, can never resist him even if you tried. And of course, Tom knows this power he has over you, and he's mastered a way on how and when to use it to his advantage.

You aren't exactly proud to say that he has never failed once, his tactic very effective and that's putting it lightly. It's sneaky and annoying sometimes but it's still cute nonetheless.

Though, never did he once abuse this weakness of yours, only using it with the little things—like letting him sneak in some snacks on set when he was instructed not to or when he wants to do certain stuff—because when it's something serious and you say 'no,' then he's quick to listen and settle when you've made your final decision. He knows you only have the best intentions when it comes to his safety and just him in general, so there's really no doubt on Tom's behalf when it comes to following you on that.

"Why me? Why not give the other boys a chance to be in the spotlight?" you proposed, not giving him the satisfaction of winning just yet.

Tom shrugged with a wide smile. "The fans love you," he hummed.

The reception of the last video was mostly positive. Maybe it was the fact that you've been with Tom for a couple years already.

Your relationship was private of course, but it wasn't a secret. It was relatively the both of you showing glimpses of it every now and then online. So, compared to when the news first broke out, this time was a bit calmer. There are still trolls and haters—they're always going to be there unfortunately—but you've learned to shut them out, turning your focus more on the ones who are very positive and supportive. They should be the only ones who should be given attention to, no point wasting your energy on random keyboard warriors.

"You mean they love it when I make fun of you?" you said, laughter escaping your lips soon after when Tom buried his face back on the crook of your neck as he groaned in dismay.

Let's just say his fans quite enjoyed how you handled him in the last video, the teasing, the banter, the whole lot. Tom hasn't been able to escape the countless clips that are circulating the good old internet. No matter which platform he uses, a clip or meme is always there to haunt him. Most of them vary from him screaming and wriggling in pain; laughing like a hyena while also wriggling in pain; the random facial expressions he's made; and even sometimes, a snapshot of you looking at him in great disappointment and/or embarrassment. That's just some among the plethora of other memes.

Tom had seen it coming of course, but it doesn't mean it's any less embarrassing, especially with how clueless he seemed when it came to women.

"Unfortunately, that too," he grumbled.

"Okay then, might as well give them more content," you teased, Tom pulling away again to gawk at you with a look of feign betrayal crossing his features. You could only laugh at that, giving his jutted out lip a kiss to replace it with one of his many sweet smiles. Despite you saying it in a joking manner, he can't really deny that that would happen either way. After all, no matter what he does, he will always be a walking meme.

Tom finally lets you go after one more peck on the cheek, guiding you towards the seat by the other end of the table soon after. He helped you in like the gentleman that he is, a kiss landing on top of your head once you were seated before he made his way towards his place.

"What are we doing this time?" you asked when Tom sat down on the chair across from you.

And as if on cue, Harry walked into the dining area with two bottles of gin on hand, Harrison following suit with a bowl of half-sliced limes along with Tuwaine with a bucket of ice and two Collins glasses.

"Truth or drink," Harry said with a wide grin, lifting the bottles of Aviation gin to further prove his point.

"You guys chose me to do this with him because I'm a lightweight, which means I'm more likely to talk, didn't you?" you said, narrowing your eyes at each of them as they placed their respective items right in front of you in the middle of the table.

All three boys gasped exaggeratedly at your accusation, shaking their heads as they made their way behind the camera, chorusing a bunched of:

"Oh no, of course not."

"That was not the plan."

"We would never."

You could only roll your eyes at them, playfully of course, turning back to Tom who was quick to throw his hands up in surrender once he took in your expression of pure suspicion.

"I swear, I just want to do this with you, plain and simple," he confessed, though his follow up sentence made you think that it wasn't as plain and simple. "But you are very funny when you have alcohol in your system."

"Does that mean I'm not when sober?" You raised your brow at the man across you, sitting straight up as you clasp your hands together, resting it on the table to seem serious.

Tom shook his head frantically. "No! You're still very funny sober!" he rushed. "Love, you know what I meant," he added with a whine, head dropping low once you let out a laugh, only lifting it back up to shoot you another pout. He can be quite gullible sometimes and you honestly love it, love teasing him about.

"Besides, it's a couples Q&A and the only couple here are you two so there aren't really any options. The only difference is that it has alcohol to spice things up a little," Harry said, now in his place behind the camera just like before.

"With equally spicy questions," Harrison added with a wriggle of his brows, coming back up on the head of the table to place a stack of white cards to which you assumed was where the questions were written.

"You guys wrote the questions didn't you? Okay, this is a set up," you joked.

"They're harmless questions I swear!" Harrison defended with a laugh before returning back to his place by the camera. Though knowing them for as long as you have, you've learned to never trust those words fully. It was highly expected that the questions aren't going to be simple, let alone safe for work.

"But if you're not comfortable doing it, it's totally fine, darling," Tom said, smiling sweetly as he grabbed your hands across the table and gave it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. He knows you have never been an avid drinker. As you've said, you are lightweight. So, if ever you wanted to back out, he's just making sure you know that you have the option to.

"No, I'm fine with it. This will be fun," you said, flashing him a true, reassuring smile of your own, squeezing his hand in return for good measure. "But can I at least have some juice or something? I'm not drinking gin straight," you added.

"Figured you'd say that," Tom said with a wide grin, rushing up from his seat and disappearing into the kitchen. He came back not long after with a bottle of orange juice on one hand all while holding a spoon and paring knife on the other. "Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo, sippin' on gin and juice," he sang the good old Snoop Dogg classic no matter how corny, placing the bottle juice right beside the gin on the head of the table.

You narrowed your eyes at your man. "You seem prepared Tom."

"Nope, I just know you too well," he hummed, giving you a sweet peck on the forehead before he was back on his seat across you.

"Right, let's give the people what they want," you said, rubbing your hands together with a wide smile.

It was Tom's turn to look at you skeptically. "Why do I have a feeling that we'll just take turns in exposing each other?"

You tilted your head at him with a grin, shrugging your shoulders and said,

"How bad can it be?"

***

"And we are rolling."

"What's up guys! Tom Holland here," he introduced with a loud clap. "I'm back with another video joined by none other than the gorgeous Y/N." You waved at the camera with a sweet smile at the mention of your name. "The rest of the gang are behind the camera as per usual," Tom added, the lads cheering at their cue unenthusiastically and totally not in sync, chuckles and giggles following soon after.

"You can feel the excitement in the room," Tom said sarcastically with a roll of his eyes. "Anyhow, since lovely Ryan Reynolds sent me a case of gin just recently, I thought; why not put it to good use?" Tom shot the camera a knowing look. "Hashtag not sponsored but should be!" he yelled, making you jump slightly at the sudden loud sound.

"Do you have to be so loud?" you grumbled, playfully covering your ears in the process.

"Oh, sorry love," Tom chuckled, shooting you a sweet smile before turning back to the camera, finger pointed at it as he said, "But Ryan, my DMs are always open."

"Always looking for someone to replace me," you sighed, shaking your head dejectedly as you turned to the camera with a deep frown.

"Ah, here we go," Tom groaned, shooting you a playful glare because he knows that the teasing would only get more and more prominent from here on out.

"What? You and I both know I've got a lot of competition," you said as a matter of fact, leaning back on your seat with arms crossed over your chest. "Mainly Jake G. and Harrison, with a couple of variations here and there but you get what I mean."

Tom shook his head at you with a teasing roll of his eyes. "Once again, my girlfriend everyone," he said to the lens with a tight lip smile before turning back to you with a deadpan expression. You only shrugged in response, flashing him an innocent smile.

"Anyway, a fan suggested this in the comments of the last video so today, we're going to be doing Truth or Drink," he continued, turning back to face the camera. "Rules are simple, we take turns on reading out the questions that are written on these cards right here"—Tom lifted the stack of white, rectangular cards before placing them back on the table—"and we either answer them truthfully or we take a drink."

"Oh and a little disclaimer," you paused as you looked at the camera. "The lads wrote the questions so we have no idea what's in the cards nor did we have any involvement in the choosing of certain topics which are possibly going to be discussed in this video," you added, feeling like it was a fact that needed to be said.

"Parental guidance is advised," Tom chuckled.

"They're not that bad you divs," Harrison grumbled.

Now you're certain on who wrote most of the questions, he's been keen on taking offense whenever anyone gets suspicious over them. "We'll be the judge of that," you stated, raising a brow at Harrison before turning back to Tom.

"Let's get right into it shall we?" Tom proposed. You gave him a nod in response, jutting out two thumbs up for good measure. "Ladies first," he said, flashing you a charming grin as he gestured towards the pile of cards.

You reached over to the pile, making sure to pick the card in the middle just to make sure that it was completely random. You adore the lads, but knowing how mischievous they can get, you've learned to always keep one eye open with regard to everything that they do. Plus, it was so easy to set it up for you to pick a certain question given that it was only you and Tom taking turns on picking a card.

"We are starting off with something a tad bit dark huh." You gave the lads a swift glance before turning to the card you had on hand. "If I killed someone would you help me cover it up?" you read out loud, placing the card on the discarded pile before your gaze landed on Tom who gave you a small, secretive nod 'yes' which only made you giggle.

Tom leaned forward as he rested his elbow on the marble surface, hand playing with his chin with his eyes on the ceiling to seem that he was deep in thought. He turned back to you and said, "Do we not get any context? Was it an accident or was it on purpose? Was it due to hate or fear? Was it justified?"

"It's a yes or no answer Tom," you laughed.

"Well then, you already know the answer but for legal purposes," Tom paused, reaching for the bucket of ice and putting some in his glass. He poured the gin on top of that and then added a dash of lime, swirling around the glass to mix them all together. "My lips are sealed," he chuckled, lifting the glass up to his lips and taking a drink. "Oh, that's good stuff," he commented, taking another sip before putting the glass back down.

"Hypothetically, if you were going to help, you'll probably be the one who'll get us caught if I'm being honest," you giggled to which Tom threw his head back with a laugh.

"Yeah, you'll tell me what you did, I'll get shocked and as we're getting stuff to you know, hypothetically hide the body, I'll go 'I can't believe you killed someone' in public and then someone will hear and call the police and we're done."

You burst out in a hearty laugh at that, nodding your head in agreement. "That's exactly how it's going to happen."

It was Tom's turn to pick a question, his grin growing wider as his eyes scanned the card in his fingers. "What's the most embarrassing thing you've done in front of me?" he asked, his features brightening in excitement because he already knows the answer. There wasn't really much to begin with other than that one incident that will always haunt you for the rest of your life.

"Do you want me to tell them the story?" you sighed, leaning back on your chair with palms flat on the table. It wasn't one of your finest moments that's for sure and Tom hasn't been letting you hear the end of it. In fact, it was one of his favourite stories involving you both.

"It's up to you, love. You don't have to if you don't want to." Tom shrugged with a smirk, reaching for your glass to get your drink made. "But that moment was so adorable for me though, embarrassing for you but very adorable for me," he added with a wink.

"Adorable or ego boosting?" you pointed out with a raise of your brow.

"Both," Tom laughed, adding some ice in your glass and pouring just the right amount of gin soon after.

You watched with an adoring smile as he poured in the orange juice, the sound of silverware and glass clinking together filling the air as he mixed up the liquids. He then squeezed a bit of lime in your drink, taking the paring knife soon after to slice up another lime in a thin circle, making a small slit in the middle so he can put it on the rim of your glass easily. Tom can be extra at times, of course he felt the need to decorate your drink, even when it wasn't exactly necessary but you wouldn't want it any other way.

"Look at you being a bartender," you teased, Tom looking up from his task to shoot you playful wink with a smug smirk to match.

"You love to see it."

You shrugged, not at all denying his claim because well, you do love seeing it.

"Here you go, mi lady," he hummed, handing you your beautifully decorated drink with a proud grin on his lips.

"Thank you, kind sir."

As much as how refreshing the cocktail looked in its cold glass and bright, orange colored glory, you know you had to be strategic with drinking. Because alcohol boosts your confidence, it makes you brave, it makes you say things you wish you hadn't when sober. And with you being lightweight, it isn't exactly ideal to be happy-go-lucky with it, especially knowing how these questions can go from one thing to another real quick.

You thought it's best to share embarrassing things that you can live with to keep the drinking at a minimum, rather than take too much alcohol too fast and say worse things down the line because you got somewhat tipsy or downright drunk. There's really no way of knowing how hard it hits given that different types of alcohol affect you in different ways.

"Okay, it was when we first met, which obviously doesn't make it any less embarrassing, first impressions and all that," you started, sitting straight up as your fingers drummed around the cool surface of your glass. "Me and a friend of mine were at this park and decided it would be fun to rent out these bikes to get around quicker, so we did. Lo and behold, Tom and Harrison were also at said park—"

"Oh yeah, I remember this," Harrison laughed. "This is going to be good."

You shot the blonde lad a quick glare before continuing. "Luck wasn't on my side that day—well, depends on how you look at things because I did meet Tom and seem to have gotten far," you laughed towards the camera, giving Tom a swift glance who was quick to lock eyes with you as he nodded agreeably with a chuckle. "But add that to me being very clumsy and simply put, I fell off the bike right in front of him," you sighed dejectedly, heat coating your cheeks as the lads chuckled in their seats, purely in amusement and not at all in a demeaning way.

"Go on love, let's hear the full thing," Tom encouraged, sitting back on his chair with his arms crossed over his chest to relax, attention fully on you as if he hasn't heard this story many times before. He genuinely does love hearing it. As you've said, it was one of his favourites.

"I'm getting there," you grumbled, narrowing your eyes at Tom who only flashed you an adorable, bright smile, knowing that if he does that, you can't stay mad at him. With a another sigh, you continued, "As we were riding our bikes, we saw him and Harrison sitting on this random bench from afar doing, I don't know, maybe they were on a date or something—"

"Darling, don't try and steer the topic here," Tom laughed. You stuck out your tongue at him—yes, very mature—his laughter only growing louder at your reaction.

"I'm a big fan of the Marvel movies, so obviously, I knew who he was. I was trying to keep my cool, you know, I didn't want to embarrass myself in front of him and thought I'll just ride pass, don't want to disturb whatever they had going on. But as soon as we got near to where they were sat, he looked towards my direction and we made eye contact—"

"The power I have," Tom crooned with a smug smile, earning a pointed eye-roll from you.

"Oh shut up. You know that wasn't the sole reason why I fell," you scoffed. "The chains on my bike went loose so I had no full control over it. We weren't going slowly as well because this friend of mine thought it was a good idea to one up each other so we kept going faster and faster, racing towards who knows what.

"So, my next option was to just plant my foot on the ground to stop it right? But as I've said, luck wasn't on my side that day. Before I could even do it, a rock went under the front wheel—which I didn't see given that I was distracted, you lot know why—and completely took me off balance and the bike went sideways real quick that I didn't have any time to react at all. And...did I roll a few times?" You turned to your boyfriend.

"Twice," he confirmed, a sympathetic smile on his lips as he tilted his head at you sweetly.

"Now, I don't see why you find this story adorable." You narrowed your eyes at your man.

"Not the actual accident, darling. It's what happened after that I found adorable. You were so cute being all shy and embarrassed," Tom defended with a pout. "And you know for a fact that whenever I see you with the smallest scrape or cut I panic and fuss over you immediately."

"You do. A bit too overdramatically," you giggled. It was a bit much sometimes how he worries but that's just Tom being the caring and overprotective boyfriend that he is. "Anyway, so yes, I rolled on the ground twice but all I remember was that I was already lying on my back, watching the sky while my knees, forearms up to my elbows and palms were burning. Then I saw Tom approaching and I swear I was just wishing that the ground would swallow me up right then and there," you finished.

"I quickly rushed to her aid, because you know, I'm Spider-Man," Tom added with a cocky shrugged, arms open wide as if to showcase himself.

There was a loud, collective groan from the lads which earned a laugh from you and a sound of pure protest from Tom.

"It's true!" he exclaimed. "Anyway, she then went, 'oh, my knight and shining armour, my handsome Prince Charming'," Tom gushed, voice at a higher pitch with the utmost exaggeration as he placed the back of his hand over his forehead. "And I went, 'don't worry princess, I'm here to save you,' and then we kissed and lived happily ever after," he concluded with the cheekiest smile.

"We remember this story very differently." You shook your head at him with a hearty laugh. This boy is always something else. "But fine, I'll give you the Prince Charming part because you did look like it.

"What you said was, 'miss, are you alright?' which was very formal of you, especially with the accent." You turned to the camera with a suggestive wiggle of your brows, making Tom drop his head shyly with a chuckle as his cheeks turned slightly pink. "And no, we didn't kiss. You don't kiss people you just met Thomas, get a hold of yourself. He helped me up and was kind enough to offer to take me to the hospital which wasn't needed since it was just a few cuts and scrapes but still insisted that I get checked. Who knew you'd be overprotective since day one," you laughed.

Tom shrugged with a chuckle. "We got to know each other while in the hospital and after she got cleaned up, I thought, I liked talking to her and I really don't want to say goodbye just yet. So, I invited her to lunch which she surprisingly said yes," he teased, sarcasm laced in his tone at his last sentence as he shot the camera a knowing and smug look. You kicked him lightly under the table, the action catching him off guard making him let out a yelp.

"It was more of me being polite because you helped and that. Didn't want to seem rude by saying no," you said, Tom gasping in full offense at your words. You let out a laugh as you rushed, "I'm kidding! Of course I wanted to go to lunch with you. It was impossible to say no because you've been really sweet and a real gentleman that day. And well, it was fun hanging out with you."

Tom smiled widely at that, nothing but pure love coating his features as he held your gaze, hand sneaking over to yours that was on the table and giving it a quick but loving squeeze.

"Where did Harrison go?" Harry wondered, the blonde boy suddenly turning silent and surely enough when you gave him a swift glance, he was already blushing.

"I had my friend with me, Tom had Harrison, you do the math," you said plainly, laughter laced in your tone.

"Oh, so you got some that day," Tuwaine chuckled, nudging the boy beside him with his elbow.

"Shut up, Tuwaine," Harrison grumbled, swatting away his friend lightly.

"But in conclusion, I am a superhero in real life," Tom stated proudly, swiping away the imaginary dust that was lying on his shoulder. He turned to the camera with a bright and wide smile. "But I do thank that bike every day."

"A bit sadistic but okay," you added, looking at Tom skeptically with a scrunch of your nose.

"No! I meant we wouldn't have gotten to know each other if that didn't happen," Tom rushed, lips turning into a pout when you only did nothing but laugh. "You're mean."

"You're just too adorable not to pick on," you giggled, his pout turning more prominent at your words.

You so badly wanted to get up off your seat and give him a proper kiss, but those things are always reserved privately. You two had never been big with public displays of affection, just the casual holding hands and occasional hugs. There are a few instances where you'll sneak a quick kiss while hanging out with friends but that's different compared to it being on tape for the whole world to see later on.

"Anyhow, what's the most embarrassing thing that you have done in front of me?" You asked back, your turn to grin wide because you know which story it was going to be, the way Tom's cheeks were quick to be dusted red was a clear indication that you were right.

"I'm smooth as hell, would never embarrass myself in front of a lady," he said casually, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back on his chair, all cool and suave.

"Oh shut up and tell the story," you said with a playful roll of your eyes, Tom letting out a shy chuckle before he leaned on the table.

"Right, it was our second date and I split my trousers open," he said, short and sweet, though his blush was already deepening because Tom knows the sharing won't stop there.

"Wait, how open?" Tuwaine asked.

"Like full on, centre to back, underwear and inner thighs with a bit of butt showing open. It would have been a bit better if I wore black pants—boxers to the American people—and black trousers right? But me being unlucky, I went for light-coloured denim jeans and black pants that day so it's fully obvious that I did ripped my trousers open," he chuckled shyly, hand going to rub at his shoulder, body slightly crouched as he refused to look away from his glass of gin.

"Go on Thomas, let's hear the full thing," you prodded, throwing his previous words right back at him.

He lifted his head up to shoot you a playful glare, though sat straighter anyway, elbows now on the table with his hands clasped together as he got ready to tell his story. "We were well underway our second date, a simpler one which was a walk in a somewhat less crowded park—"

"What's with you two and parks?" Harrison pointed out with a chuckle.

"Disaster just waiting to happen as you can tell," Tom laughed.

"We've steered clear from parks after all these incidents," you joked with a giggle.

"I did a flip and didn't land the right way was basically what happened," Tom continued, turning to the camera with a look of dismay. "We were walking by a couple of street dancers who were practicing a routine and they were doing all sorts of flips and tricks. She stopped walking completely and watched—wait, correction, stared at this certain bloke who was doing backflips—"

"I was not staring," you butted in. "I was just watching him do his thing and said how cool it was. And why are you making it seem like it's my fault?" you gasped, placing a hand over your heart, feign offence crossing your features.

"I'm not!" Tom laughed, hands up in surrender before he crossed his arms over his chest. "All I'm saying was that I was trying to impress you, which is why I offered to show you a flip. And as everyone in this room knows, I do the stupidest things when trying to impress a girl, especially when I like her that much."

"I was already impressed by you as is Tom, you didn't need to do a flip," you said as a matter of fact, small giggles escaping your lips as you looked at him with nothing but pure adoration. Tom felt his heart melt at the sight and more by your words. "And besides, I already knew you could do it. But somehow you felt the need to prove yourself after you saw me complimenting that dancer," you added.

"It's what you call ego, Tom," Harry laughed.

"Shut up, Harry." Tom shot his brother a glare though chuckled right after because it was in fact a bit true.

It was the silliest thing thinking back on it now, how he just said 'you want to see me do a flip?' out of the blue. You furrowed your brows at him in response, though your smile was laced with amusement. He just wanted to impress you as he'd said. And fine, maybe his ego got struck at teeny bit, and maybe he felt a little jealous that your attention got torn off of him because he truly did like you that much.

But at the end of the day, even though he had a little mishap, it all worked out so he wasn't at all complaining. "Anyway, so I did the flip, completely disregarding the fact that my shoes were slippy and my trousers were tight. I did land upright and not on my face this time so that's something," Tom chuckled. "But my right foot slipped so I was full on going on a wide split which I normally can't do since I am not flexible enough and proceeded to fall on my bum.

"The moment I heard the sound I instantly knew and just went, 'oh no' and remained on the ground because I didn't know what to do then. I was already embarrassed because I slipped, do I really want to tell her I tore open my trousers too?" Tom laughed timidly, the blush on his cheeks turning redder as he rubbed the back of his neck in utter embarrassment.

"I kind of knew right away though because I did hear something rip," you giggled. "He then just slowly stood up, hands behind, flat on his bum and said, 'I split my trousers open' in the smallest voice like a kid who's scared to tell their mum they fell or they'll get scolded. Plus his face was beet red, just like now." You pointed towards your boyfriend, who in turn stuck his tongue out at you as his blush turned into an even deeper shade of crimson.

"Thank God I wore a jacket that day and I was able to at least hide it until we got back to the car or else someone would've clocked it, took a picture, posted it on the internet and it would've made things much worse," Tom pointed out with a chuckle, glad that there was no paparazzi or it would've been a nightmare. "And the fact that you tried so hard not to laugh but still failed made me feel so embarrassed that I was quick to think that that was it. I ruined my chances, no more third date," he added as he turned to you with a small pout.

"I couldn't help laughing because it was the most adorable thing how you went from being all confident and cocksure on doing a flip to this shy boy who refused to look me in the eyes without turning even redder," you said, pure amusement laced in your tone. "But no, that incident made me like you more, it was just too endearing. Third date never left the table after that," you concluded with a sweet smile which only made Tom's grin grow wider.

"Even though she laughed, she was so sweet and kind about it. We had to cut our date shor—actually no, we didn't. We went back to your place and decided to do a movie marathon instead," Tom said fondly, face glowing with joy as the memory brought nothing but warmth across his chest.

"Yeah, with you wearing a pair of my sweatpants," you giggled, mirroring his expression as your mind recalled the sweet moment of you and him, simply cuddled up on the couch.

"And that's on getting the girl by splitting your trousers open," Tom said with a smug smile, pointing at the camera as he shot it a knowing look with a wriggle of his brows.

"And getting the boy by falling off a bike," you added, doing exactly what he did as you turned to face the lens.

"Look at us," Tom gushed, looking back at you with a smile, reaching across the table to take your hand in his. "Hey, look at us."

"Look at us. Who would've thought?" you giggled, giving his hand a squeeze in return.

You were always quick to catch on what he was trying to do that Tom couldn't help but smile widely, heart melting ten times over at the thought of you knowing him so well. "Not me," Tom chuckled, letting go of your hand and holding up his palm for a high-five to which you gladly obliged with laughs of your own.

"You two are made for each other," Harry chuckled with a shake of his head, now just getting that you two were recreating the famous Paul Rudd meme.

"My turn right?" Tom asked. You nodded with a hum as you pushed the pile of cards towards him. He let out a loud scoff once he read the question, his reaction making you raise a brow in both curiosity and slight dread. "Be honest," he said as he looked up from the paper, gaze landing on you. "Who do you love more, me," he paused for dramatic effect, narrowing his eyes at you before continuing, "Or Tessa?"

You let out a small groan as you hang your head low, fingers tracing the side of your cold glass. You let out a sigh of defeat before you met Tom's expectant gaze. "I can't possibly answer that question," you grumbled, bringing the glass up to your lips as you took a swift drink before placing it back down.

"That was such a tiny sip," Harrison pointed out.

"Alright, alright, I guess we can tell who the bad influence here is," you said with a teasing roll of your eyes, but still took another drink anyway, taking in more of it this time around. You just want to play the game fair and square. "You actually made that really well. It's really good," you hummed at Tom as you placed your drink back down, the lad grinning widely in response.

"Why thank you, darling," Tom crooned, voice smooth with a pride-filled smile, pushing over the pile of cards back in the middle of the table to get you to ask the next question.

"Okay, who wrote this?" You turned to the boys behind the camera with a raise of your brow. "If the alcohol wasn't going to do it, then this will definitely get the video restricted, unless you're going to bleep some words out?" You turned to Harry.

"I've got that covered," Harry laughed.

Glancing back at the card you had on hand, you asked, "If our sex life was porn, what genre would it be?" You looked up at Tom to see him try his best to hold back a smirk.

"Nope, not answering that," he laughed with a shake of his head as he lifted his glass off the table. "Mainly because there are too many genres that it would fit for me to only pick one," Tom muttered softly against his drink as he looked at you through his lashes. His words were muffled but you still heard it, you were closer to him after all. You felt your cheeks heat up at that, even more so when your man shot you a teasing wink before downing the shot of gin not long after.

Tom set his glass down and reached over to take another card. "What does your family think of me?" he asked with a clear of his throat.

"Well..." You slowly dragged your drink closer to you, Tom's mouth falling agape that you couldn't help but burst into a hearty laugh. "I'm kidding! You already know how much they love you," you said. "I mean, my parents call him 'son' so." You shrugged as you turned to the camera. Tom puffed out his chest all proud with a very smug smile on his lips. You rolled your eyes, sighing as you added, "They probably even love you more than they love me."

Tom chuckled, "My family loves you more than they love me, too—"

"I can vouch for that," Harry intervened.

"Thanks, Harry," Tom said sarcastically, flashing his brother a forced smile. Turning back to you, he finished, "So, I guess we're even."

You could only nod with a soft giggle, reaching over to the stack of cards to keep the pace going. "Lads! What's with these kinds of questio—you know what, I don't even expect any less from you guys," you sighed, pursing your lips as you re-read the question again before sitting straight up and looked into Tom's eyes. "What would you do if you caught me watching porn?" you asked.

"Watch it with you and help get it done, duh?" he answered without hesitation, leaning back on his chair as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Have done a couple times actually," Tom murmured, somewhat to himself, though not really since everyone in the room—and pretty sure the camera—heard it.

"Tom!" you hissed.

You felt your body tingle, legs instinctively closing together as the countless moments it happened replayed itself inside your brain. Although what he said wasn't false, it wasn't the full truth either. He didn't exactly catch you red handed, never did since you don't watch porn often.

All you did was asked him—merely out of curiosity—what type he mostly watches. Your question sparked an idea in his head which led to you sitting in between his legs, bare back against his naked chest as the laptop sat right in front of you both with the video of his choice.

Tom then made his way with you while you watched, making sure you never take your eyes off the couple on screen or else. He was always fully in control over you every time you do it, his fingers sometimes delicate, mostly rough, touch hot and heavy all over your skin, lips warm on your neck, teeth sharp against your bare shoulder as he brings you to the edge over and over and over with nothing but his hands. And once the video ends, Tom will take it upon himself to re-enact the whole of it with you—if you could still take it of course—bringing what was on screen to real life, full recreation from start to finish.

Best believed you're properly blissed out at the stop of every play.

Your boyfriend's eyes widened once he realized the actual volume of his voice, face turning a deep shade of red, sitting straight abruptly as he rushed, "No! Wait—dammit." Tom casted his eyes down shyly when the boys let out exaggerated gasps and sounds of disapproval, a telltale sign that they already heard it. "I'm sorry, darling." He met your gaze again as he shot you a sheepish smile, his head tilted to the side guiltily to which you only responded with a shake of your head.

Typical Thomas.

"Bleurgh, too much info," Harrison gagged, the other boys following suit with their own sounds of repulsion.

"Oh fuck off you divs. You guys wrote the questions so obviously, you wanted to find out," Tom countered, shooting the lads a glare each.

"We didn't expect you to actually answer it!" Harry defended.

"We're cutting that whole part out, no way that's going up online," you grumbled, eyes staring at nothing but your drink as you tried to hide the obvious embarrassment that's coated your features.

Tom reached across the table to give your hand a squeeze, you meeting his gaze to see him mouth a gentle 'I'm sorry.' You flashed him a sweet smile, squeezing his hand in return to tell him that it was alright. It wasn't live so there wasn't any real harm done, aside from future jokes from the boys. That you can deal with than having that confidential information on the internet which will then follow you around for the rest of eternity.

Letting go of your hand, Tom sat straighter and turned to the camera. "If you guys are wondering why there's a jump cut and my face is suddenly so red, it's because I spilled something I shouldn't have that we had to cut it out. And no, it's something you'll never find out," he chuckled shyly, knowing that once the video goes out, fans are going to be so annoyed and will pester him—and everyone in the room—nonstop to try and find out what was cut.

Better that, than embarrassing you in front of millions though, so he'll deal with them no problem. Because as promised, if you weren't comfortable with it staying in the video, then it gets cut out, no questions asked. You and what you're comfortable with always come first in Tom's book.

"Yet again, thank God we didn't do this live," you muttered with a playful roll of your eyes.

Tom shot you one last apologetic smile before he cleared his throat, "Right, moving on." He shifted in his seat and took another card from the pile. "What's the one thing you'd change about me?" he asked.

"Your height," you answered without missing a beat. You chewed on your lip to suppress a grin but still failed miserably, especially when Tom looked at you with his jaw hanging and his eyes wide open.

A chorus of 'ooh's erupted from the boys which only prompted a laugh from you, the joyous sound growing louder when they started to rub it to Tom even more.

"Pfft, apply ice on the burnt area," Harry said as he blew out his cheeks.

"Mate, she's just bodied you with that," Tuwaine tutted at Tom, rising up from his seat soon after to offer you a high-five. You gladly obliged with a laugh, Tom gawking at you with utmost betrayal on his face.

"You're lucky you're very cute, especially when you laugh," Tom grumbled as he shot you a playful glare. The crinkles on the corner of your eyes deepened as you only smiled brightly at him with a tilt of your head, which honestly made you look even more endearing. He could never be mad at you, too whipped to hold a grudge no matter how much you tease him. And besides, that's all there is to it, nothing but teasing jokes and banter.

"If I were you, Tom, I'd start taking those growth pills before she starts to question why she's even with you," Harrison proposed jokingly which earned boisterous laughter from the rest of the gang.

"You lot are so fucking overdramatic. I'm not that short," Tom quipped with a roll of his eyes, gaze landing back on you with his famous pout now in play yet again. "And babe, it's a truth or drink video, not a roast me video," he stated, palms flat on cool marble as he looked at you with puppy-dog eyes.

"I'm joking! I'm joking," you rushed with a giggle. "I wouldn't change a single thing. You know I love you, just the way you are," you sang the last line, though your voice held nothing but sincerity as you reached over to give his hand a loving squeeze. Tom nodded with a sigh, though never did he doubt your words, knowing it deep in his bones that physical traits would never outweigh how much you love him, no matter what.

"Right, let's keep this going," you said as you took another card. "Who is smarter, me or you?" you asked.

"Me," Tom said proudly.

"Well, that's a lie," you objected.

Tom couldn't help but laugh at that, nodding at you as he chuckled, "It's you, obviously. Have you seen the last video?"

"Hmm, I don't know, I think Tom's smarter. I mean, you decided to date him, Y/N, which isn't exactly the brightest decision," Harry inferred, earning a loud gasp from his older brother.

"Excellent point," you agreed, your boyfriend's head whipping towards your direction with nothing but absolute offense written on his face.

"Babe! You're supposed to be on my side!" Tom exclaimed. "Why are we roasting me all of a sudden?" he complained.

"You're just too fun to pick on," you laughed, Tom's bottom lip jutting out at your words. "Especially when you do that, too cute," you pointed out, the apples of Tom's cheek turning pink as a smile grew on his lips at the compliment. "But I am smarter," you concluded, shooting the camera a wink.

"Will not refute," Tom chuckled, keeping the flow of the game as he took another card. "If you weren't with me, who of my brothers would you consider dating?" he said, voice pitching higher at the last few words. A look of downright disgust covered Tom's face immediately as he looked at the boys behind the camera who were snickering like the mischievous little shits that they are. "You lot are grim."

You matched Tom's expression, scrunching your nose as you shook your head quickly. Having been with Tom long enough, you now see the three of the Holland boys as your own brothers, so the mere thought of dating any of them is just—

"I'm not even going to think about it," you grumbled as you took a sip of your cocktail and then picked a card right away. "Who's the celebrity who you were the most disappointed with when you met them?" you continued swiftly, a smile on your lips as you looked at Tom who let out a sigh.

"You know I can't answer that," he stated in a matter-of-fact tone, your smile growing wider as you picked up the bottle of gin and refilled his glass. "Thank you, darling," he chuckled with a shake of his head, taking a drink right after.

"Is there anyone in my friend group, famous or not, that you do not like?" Tom continued with a raise of his brow, gaze steady on you.

You emptied your glass—that was still half full—without a single word and placed it back down with a small burp. "Oh, excuse me," you cleared your throat with a laugh.

Tom's brows furrowed at you in mere curiosity, gesturing for your glass so he can remake you another drink. You slid it over to him with a soft 'thank you' and a sweet smile. He started opening up the bottle of juice though his eyes were still on you, narrowed in pure skepticism.

"Who?"

"Not part of the question, Tom," you said, flashing him an innocent smile

"I know who it is," Harry coughed fakely.

"Me too," Tuwaine added with a fake cough of his own.

"It's Harrison because he's trying to take you away from me," you commented, laughing at how the blonde lad gasped in utter protest.

"That's a lie because I know who it is too," Harrison defended.

"So, everyone knows except me?" Tom mused, rolling his eyes in the process.

"What else is new?" you giggled with a shrugged, Tom only sighing as he shot you yet another pout. This boy never ceases to use it since he knows you always swoon whenever he does. 'I'll tell you later,' you mouthed, making him nod with a proud smile.

You gently leaned back on your seat, closing your eyes when you felt a little woozy. You took in slow, deep breaths, the marble cold against your palms as your body started to grow warmer from head to toe.

Maybe downing that drink wasn't the best idea.

"You okay, darling?" Tom asked sweetly, tilting his head at you in worry as he went to take your hand in his. His brows knitted together when your skin felt unusually warm in his palms.

"Yeah," you giggled, opening your eyes to meet his concern-filled brown ones, flashing him a reassuring smile and a nod to match as you gave his hand a squeeze. "Just the alcohol slowly kicking in."

"Want to take a minute, sweetheart?"

"No, I'm good. Go on and ask the question bubba," you prompted as you beamed at him, Tom's heart melting at the beautiful curve on your features and more by the sound of that sweet nickname. Although, he knew that you'd reached your calm before the storm.

You're always smiley and extra sweet when you start to get a little tipsy. But from here on out, especially if you decide to take even more alcohol, you start switching from calm to giddily energetic. That's when the words would start flowing out your lips before your brain could even register what you've just said.

Tom replaced your hand with a white card once he was sure you were fine. A cheeky grin erupted on his face as he asked, "What's your favourite sex position?"

You pursed your lips, eyes landing on the ceiling, fingers drumming on the marble surface of the table as you pondered on it for a second. Tom watched you intently, a soft chuckle escaping him when you met his gaze again with a sweet yet shy smile.

"I've got three though," you said, mostly to him but in a not-so-hush tone. Your mind and your mouth don't cooperate sometimes when there's alcohol in the mix.

"Different one for a different mood," Tom hummed with a smirk, finishing up your drink with a squeeze of lime, mixing it up before sliding it back towards you. "Just say one or take a drink, darling."

"I need to slow down with drinking or else I'll be saying much worse things. I can already feel my filter shutting down," you breathed out, tilting your head to the side as you gazed at Tom for a bit of help. "But do I really want this out in the world?"

"Oh, go on Y/N, live a little," Harrison prodded with nothing but utter mischief in his eyes.

You don't know why but somehow, Harrison words were the last straw for that burst of confidence to suddenly overflow. Boldness coated your every nerve as you squeezed your eyes shut and straight up blurted,

"Doggy."

Tom's eyes grew wide, both of his brows rising as he looked at you surprised. Yes, doggy was one of your—and his—favourites, he already knew that, what surprised him was you actually saying it out loud. Although he was swift to turn cocky as he leaned back on his seat, arms crossed over his chest while he kept his gaze steady on you.

As you peaked one eye, you saw that certain smirk of his now playing on his pink lips, one you only ever see privately. You felt your face heat up at that, added from the alcohol and embarrassment. The warmth was quick to spread to the rest of your body though, with the way he was looking at you, it was so hard for it not too. And as your eyes fully soaked him in, gaze traveling from his handsome face sporting that teasing smirk to his bulging biceps, the temperature could only rise. Your senses was now somewhat heightened that you were able to notice every single thing that made your man so fucking attractive and downright hot.

Since when did his hoodie grow even tighter? And damn, why is it so hot all of a sudden? It's probably the alcohol, or mainly just Tom, or simply both.

"Favourite type of porn!" you hear someone from the gang call out—probably Harrison since he's been causing trouble from the very start—interrupting your thoughts. With the alcohol in your system, just as expected, your brain genuinely forgot to take control of your tongue before you could even tell yourself: 'don't!'

"Sometimes hardcore," you let out, slapping your hand over your mouth immediately as your eyes grew wide. You quickly met Tom's eyes, his brown orbs glowing with shock, amusement and a sprinkle of lust. He gave you a soft nod with a soft smile in response, confirming that yes, you said it out loud, and yes it was already too late. "Oh no, this was what I meant when I needed to slow down on alcohol," you groaned, rubbing your hand over your warm face before looking back across your man with a pout.

"Aye! Hardcore doggy yeah?" Harrison cheered teasingly, moving towards Tom and giving his best friend a pat on the shoulder. Tom threw his head back with a laugh, face red but the look of utmost pride was also there. Harrison swiftly offered his fist to Tom, to which the brunette gladly indulged, their knuckles colliding as chuckles escaped the two mates.

You let out a choked laugh as your eyes widened in surprise, jaw going slack with your face heating up even more. "Did you guys just fist bump to that?"

"I mean." Tom shrugged, throwing his hands up with the smuggest grin, causing you to shake your head dejectedly with a groan. You shot Harrison a pointed glare when he went back to his seat, still snickering to his heart's content as if his master plan was in the works.

What a little shit.

"I'm definitely not going to let my parents watch this video," you mumbled with a roll of your eyes.

"I've got a question for Tom though," Tuwaine started, though the glimmer in his eyes told you it wasn't a clean one. "Do you grab it or do you smack it?"

Tom wheezed before erupting into a very rowdy laugh, hands slapping on his thigh as his body shook in nothing but pure enjoyment, his face red from a mixture of embarrassment, glee and the alcohol.

"Oh my—right! Next question!" you squeaked, not giving your boyfriend any time to answer as you attempted to swiftly move on.

"Wait, wait," Tom breathed out as he slowly calmed down, getting up from his seat as he went over to your side. "Harry stop recording for a sec," he called out to his younger brother before he gestured for you to turn until your back was facing the camera.

Tom crouched down in front of you, hands on your knees with a sweet, reassuring smile on his lips. "We'll edit out the parts you're not comfortable with to stay in the vid, alright?" he stated softly.

You nodded with a smile of your own, taking his hand in yours as you played with his fingers. "I'm not opposed to keeping the last two questions since everyone has their favourite position and type of porn. It's normal," you hummed, tilting your head at him as you added, "You saying you've helped me with, you know, that was much more private though, 'cause it's our thing."

"I know, I'm sorry, love," Tom apologized, voice soft but coated with sincerity as his hand went up to cup your face lovingly, brown eyes gazing up into yours with just the same emotions. "We're cutting that part out, I promise."

"But you think your fans would take these questions well?" you queried, leaning into his touch in a way that made Tom's heart do flips inside his chest.

He nodded. "Yeah, I think it's fine. The video is going to be age restricted anyway. And besides, we're both adults, so there's nothing wrong with it," he explained. You hummed in agreement, leaning your head on his hand as you closed your eyes with a soft sigh, your skin very warm against his palm. Tom moved closer to give your lips a sweet peck. "Want some water angel?"

"No, I'm good." You smiled, Tom nodding as he mirrored your grin, giving your lips another kiss before he stood back to his full height and then sat back on his seat.

Shooting Harry the go signal to start recording again, Tom chuckled, "Sorry, needed to cool down for a sec after that." He turned towards the camera, tugging at the collar of his hoodie as he blew out his cheeks to get a point across.

You could only roll your eyes at your man, his laugh growing louder at your reaction. Swiftly taking a card from the pile, you continued with the game. "Is this going to be the theme from here on out, lads?" you asked, eyeing the boys behind the camera suspiciously before you turned back to Tom. "Is there something in the bedroom you'd like to try that you haven't told me?"

Tom's cheeks turned even redder at the question, completely shying away now as his hand went to rub at his shoulder. "I can't think of one right now," he muttered as he looked at you sheepishly. "But no, I'm not answering that since we talk about that off camera anyway," Tom settled with a timid chuckle, refilling his glass and taking a drink of the gin soon after.

"Your turn," you giggled, pushing the pile towards him.

"Oh, okay. What a way to shift the topic," Tom breathed out, scanning the card one more time as he sat up straighter. "If I was in a coma how long would you wait for me?" he asked, meeting your gaze with a tender smile.

"I'll keep waiting for you until you wake up, no matter how long," you answered, without even a single inch of doubt, despite the slight shake in your voice as your eyes started to well up. "Never giving up on you."

"Darling," Tom cooed softly with a pout, the screeching sound of his chair echoing around the space as he pushed his seat back. He went back over to your side quickly, remaining on his feet as he leaned down to engulf you in a tight and warm embrace, swaying you side to side in the most comforting way as he whispered sweet nothings against your hair.

You buried your face in his chest with a shaky breath, the material of his hoodie soft against your cheek. You willed your brain not to think much of it, to not dwell on that thought and focus more on the Tom's warmth that's coated you right now. Or else you'll end up a bawling mess, and with the alcohol in your system, it's not a good idea to start crying now.

Your man pulled away gently with a charming smile, cupping your face with both hands as he towered over your seated form. "I'd do the exact same, just so you know," he hummed, brown eyes locked with yours, his thumbs caressing your cheeks fondly before he dipped his head to capture your lips in a loving kiss. You let out a sweet sigh as you melt at the feeling of his soft lips on yours, mind and heart at ease at familiar warmth. The gesture wasn't fully caught on camera though given that you were turned at the opposite direction.

"I love you," you hummed against his lips.

Tom chuckled sweetly, giving you a few more pecks on the lips before pulling away completely, staring right into your eyes as he whispered, "And I love you."

With that he went back to his seat again, flashing you one of his many charming grins before he turned to the group behind the camera.

"You lot are onto something I can tell," Tom said as he raised a brow at the lads who suspiciously grew quiet, looking everywhere in the room but at you two.

Not thinking much of it, you swiftly took another card and read the question. "What would you do if you suddenly get a call that I was gone?" you trailed off at the end of your sentence, brows knitting together as you turned to the group behind the camera. "Guys, this is a cruel question."

"Oh," Tom faltered, smile slowly slipping away from his face as he casted his eyes at his drink.

"Tom, you don't have to answer it," you called out softly, frown deep on your lips as you reached over to take both his hands in yours. But it was already too late when he squeezed your hand tightly, lifting his head back up to meet your gaze and you felt your heart ache. That's when you saw that his mind was already there, brown orbs glossed up as he let out a shaky breath.

"I'd literally shut down," he croaked. "I-I don't know what'd I do if that happens. I just can't imagine my life without you. I—" he stopped, head dropping as his voice broke.

"Oh Tom, come here," you cooed as you immediately got out of your seat and rounded the table, turning him around and away from shot for a bit of privacy. You squatted in between his legs that were spread apart to be much closer to him, gently cupping his face with both your hands so that you were now within eye level. "Hey, look at me," you whispered when you were met by eyes that were screwed shut.

With a deep intake of breath, Tom willed his eyes to open. He looked at you with a small smile playing on his lips, heart steadying at the sight of your beautiful orbs boring into his own. He leaned forward to close the distance between you two, just so he could feel your lips on his. Tom badly needed to. A soft satisfied sigh erupted out your chest as your hand took home on his warm cheek.

"I'm still here bubba. I'm not going anywhere," you hummed against his lips before giving him warm kisses all over his face that made him stifle out a small laugh. You pulled away a little with a loving smile, wiping away the few tears that sat on his skin with your thumb, your touch gentle and warm.

"I love you so much, you know that?" Tom whispered as he looked at you fondly, nudging the tip of his nose with yours in a wholesome manner.

"I love you too, you sweet, soft boy," you giggled, placing a sweet peck on his lips before pulling him in for a hug. You lifted your head up to shoot each of the boys a sharp glare, the three cowering away in their seats as they each said their soft apologies.

Pulling away with a smile, you cupped Tom's face with a hum, "Better?"

"Loads," Tom sighed with a sweet smile, leaning in for one last peck before he lets you go back to your seat. "You purposely put that in there to make me cry didn't you?" Tom spoke, narrowing his eyes at boys who only shrugged in feign innocence. "You lot are evil I tell you."

"Now let's get back on a lighter note!" you exclaimed, pushing the cards towards Tom since it was his turn to ask.

Tom pursed his lips as his brows furrowed at the question. "If you could sleep with any person in the world, who would it be?" he wondered, eyes locking with yours in warning. "Now, careful with your answer, love," he hummed.

"Is that a threat Holland?" you challenged with a raise of your brow.

"I'm just saying, I may already know or will meet this person in the futur—"

"Chris Hemsworth," you blurted, Tom's mouth falling open as he gawked at you in shock. "I'm kidding," you rushed with a hearty laugh.

"Are you though?" Tom doubted, squinting at you suspiciously.

You bit your bottom lip as you held his gaze, Tom letting out a loud gasp when you suddenly took a drink all while maintaining eye contact with him.

"I'm going to have a word with you later missy," he grumbled, voice suddenly an octave deeper, somewhat a soft growl, one that you felt down to your core.

You shifted in your seat with a clear of your throat, shooting him an innocent smile as you said, "To be fair, you did say—publicly may I add—that you'd sleep with Hemsworth too when you did fuck, marry and kill with the three Chrises so, roll the clip!"

Tom shook his head at you with a playful roll of his eyes. "Touché," he sighed, brows furrowed in confusion when you suddenly covered your mouth.

"Oops, I just realized I said the F-word, sorry Harry," you said meekly, a certain smile on your lips which guaranteed that you were now dancing onto drunken territory. Tom knows you like the back of his hand, if the way you were smiling wasn't enough then, the simple look in your eyes would let him know that the alcohol has fully hit you this time.

"It's alright. One bleep word is nothing compared to last week's video. And it's not like this video has been clean anyway," the young twin chuckled.

"So, Fuck Hemsworth, who are you marrying and who are you killing?" Tuwaine asked.

"Marry Evans, Kill Pratt," you answered promptly.

Tom leaned back on his seat as he crossed his arms over his chest, running his tongue over his teeth slowly all while staring you down. "That's a quick answer Y/N," he hummed, shooting you a teasing glare.

"Oh please, yours was quick too, Thomas," you retorted, crossing your arms over your chest as you mirrored him, never backing down from his stare even though it was making you feel certain things.

"Wait, if you're marrying Evans and killing Pratt, and I'm marrying Pratt and killing Evans, does that mean we're set out to kill each other's husband?" Tom started as he leaned forward and towards the table.

"So, if you were successful in killing Evans, and I was successful in killing Pratt, that means we're both widowed," you continued, laying your hands now flat on the marble surface.

"Meaning there's still a chance that we will still end up together. Meant to be if you ask me," Tom concluded, lifting up a hand.

You moved forward to give him a high-five, missing his hand by a lot which made you let out a loud, hearty laugh, Tom following suit with laughs of his own.

"What are you two on?" Harrison said with a crinkle of his nose.

"Alcohol," you and Tom answered at the same time. Both of your mouths turned into the shape of O's as you looked at each other properly delighted.

"Jinx!" both of you exclaimed in unison. "Jinx again!"

"Our mental synchronization; can have but one explanation," you and Tom sang in harmony, never breaking your gaze as you both smiled proudly.

"You—"

"And I—"

"Were—"

"Just—"

"Meant to be!" You two ended with fits of laughter, raising your hands to go for another high five. You missed Tom's hand again which only made you wheeze, tears of joy brimming in yours and his eyes as you tried for the second time, both of you cheering loudly when it finally landed.

"Cringe, really made for each other," Harry gagged teasingly with a grimace to match.

And then Harrison intervened. "How about fuck, marry, kill, Tom Hiddleston, Tom Felton and," he paused, grin turning wider like a Cheshire cat as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. "Tom Holland?"

"That's not part of the game," you protested with a pout.

"Answer the question, darling," Tom encouraged, looking at you expectantly.

"I'm taking a shot," you muttered, going for your drink but before you could even do so, Tom had already taken it far away from your reach. "Hey!" you whined.

Tom chuckled softly as he shook his head no. "You said it's not part of the game so no, you have to answer," he said. "And that's enough alcohol for you, my love," he cooed, tilting his head at you knowingly with a sweet smile. If Tom will let you continue with the drinking then you'll surely be complaining nonstop about the throbbing headache you'll get and the constant nausea after all this.

You sat back on your chair with your bottom lip jutted out, arms crossed over your chest to match, much like a child as you started to think about your answer. Although the process took way longer than you'd expect it to be and the boys were quick to notice.

"Uh oh, she's having a hard time," Harry teased when a few long seconds has gone by and you still haven't given an answer.

"I don't know how I feel about the hesitation here," Tom admitted as he looked at you curiously, brows furrowing with a chuckle when you were still deep in thought after a few seconds more.

"She genuinely is having a hard time," Tuwaine laughed.

"This is so unfair," you grumbled dejectedly as you looked at your man with a sweet, adorable pout, silently asking for help.

"What'd you do with me first to make things easier," Tom offered with a chuckle.

As if there was a hidden message to his words—there wasn't—your face suddenly lit up, slapping your palms on the table excitedly as you sat straighter. "You know what, kill the other two and I'll fuck and marry you," you declared heartily, eyes locked securely with Tom's with the proudest grin playing on your lips.

Tom's heart did somersaults at the mere fact of you wanting to marry him, grin wide and bright as he stared into your orbs, utmost love glowing in yours that was wholesomely mirrored by his brown ones.

It wasn't long until Tom felt his blood rush down though, heat dancing on his skin as his brain got occupied with the thought of you fucking him too. Certain memories flooded his mind, one after the other that it was getting harder for him to stay calm in his seat.

You are honestly giving him a whiplash with how you make him feel one emotion to another in a span of seconds, though Tom wasn't at all complaining.

"That's not how the game works!" Harrison exclaimed.

"I'm pretty happy with that answer," Tom shrugged with a wide, cocky grin, eyes never leaving yours as he raised a brow at you suggestively. You held his gaze with a tilt of your head, bottom lip caught between your teeth to try and stop your smile from growing.

The interaction didn't go unnoticed by Harry though. "Okay, stop eye-fucking each other you horny teenagers," the younger brother complained.

Tom laughed at that, shifting in his seat as he turned towards the camera. "On that note, we're ending the video there. This has been Tom Holland," he paused, giving you a nod as a cue.

"And Mrs. Holland," you blurted at the camera with a smile, eyes widening once you realised the choice of words you've just used. "Oh wait! No! Fuc—I don't mean no as in 'no,' I meant not yet," you fumbled. "We're not even engaged yet! Don't start with the headlines you." You pointed at the camera in warning.

He shook his head with a chuckle, red tinting his cheeks but pure admiration glowed in his eyes. "You own my fucking heart, you know that? You make me melt all the damn time," Tom gushed through gritted teeth, and it was taking a whole lot of his self-control to not jump over the table and just kiss you senseless. You felt your heart grow at his words but you could only bury your face in your hands with a groan of pure embarrassment. "She's drunk, my apologies," Tom added with a laugh as he turned towards the camera.

"Tipsy, there's a difference," you corrected as you shot him a glare.

Tom chuckled, smiling at you widely before turning back to the lens. "Anyway, see you on the next one and peace!" he finished with the sign and then a salute, Harry throwing out an upturned thumb to signal cut.

Once he saw that the camera was off, Tom was out of his seat in record speed, moving over to your now standing form as he swiftly wrapped both his arms around your waist and crashed his lips onto yours with a low groan. His arms tightened around you as he relished the feeling of finally having you so close.

You giggled against the kiss, resting your arms over his shoulders as you leaned back on the table to keep your balance, your bum half-rested on the marble while your foot stayed steady on the floor, legs apart so that Tom can situate himself between them easily.

"So, fuck and marry me huh?" Tom hummed deeply against your mouth, playfully nibbling at your bottom lip before pulling away so he can see your gorgeous face fully.

"Out of all the things I've said, that's what stuck with you?" you giggled with a shake of your head.

"I mean, you fucking me will never fail to sound very hot, reminds me of the few times you did." Tom wriggled his brows at you suggestively, hands giving your waist as teasing squeeze. "Though I don't know which one's hotter, that or you marrying me," he said with the proudest smirk.

"Will you two take this somewhere else?" Harry complained, always the last one to be left in the room given that he's mostly in-charge with taking care of the camera. Harrison and Tuwaine were already gone, continuing whatever they had to do that day.

"Don't think that would make a difference though," Tom chuckled smugly, looking back at you with a knowing grin.

"Which reminds me how we need to sound proof the fucking walls you nasty rabbits."

"I was kidding. We're not that loud fuck off," Tom remarked, rolling his eyes at his brother.

And to prove how wrong Tom's point was, Harrison suddenly started moaning so piercingly right in the next room, his voice a bit muffled but you can still hear him, loud and obnoxious.

"Fuck! Love! Fuck yes! Just like that, darling! Shit baby I'm gonna—"

"Fuck off Harrison you fucking twat!" Tom yelled at the top of his lungs, the blonde lad's boisterous and annoying laugh echoing soon after.

Tom turned crimson red as the embarrassment coated him from head to toe, head dropping for him to hide his face on the crook of your neck with a groan. You let out a soft giggle, hand landing on the back of his head as you ran your fingers through his hair comfortingly. Your face was warm as you were embarrassed just the same, although there was more of a sense of pride on your behalf because yes, Tom does get a bit loud sometimes, all courtesy to you.

It wasn't always of course, both of you aren't evil enough to torture the lads that much. Aside from the fact that Tom is rarely even home—meaning you don't do the deed that much in this house—the two of you had made a pact to make sure that you're completely alone before properly going at it. Admittedly, it does get a bit hard to keep the noise down sometimes, so the boys have to endure it every now and then. They do get back at you guys soon after as they are quick to be little shits with the teasing and dirty jokes, much like now.

"Maybe we do need to soundproof our walls," you teased once your man pulled away to look at you with a soft sigh, hands running up and down your waist sweetly.

"Or we could finally look for our own place to move in?" Tom proposed with a charming smile, your heart melting at the sight and skipping a beat at his words.

Granted, you've been with Tom for a fair three and a half years already, but neither of you had gone to take that step of actually living fully on your own where it's just no one but him and you in your own home. You've been living in this house for roughly the same time—maybe a year or two less—and you've got no problem living with the lads, you consider them as your brothers now. But you won't deny that having a place exclusively for you and Tom only would be pure bliss.

Of course you've talked about getting your own place and neither of you were opposed to it. It all just came down to Tom being constantly busy and barely even home. You'd rather live with the boys for the mean time than sulk all alone in a house while slowly being buried in the emotions of missing your boyfriend.

Tom also wanted to be there for the most of it—choosing and buying furniture, decorating a thing or two, moving, the likes—but with his schedule, it was hard to find the perfect time.

But now he's promised you that he'd slow down for a bit.

He genuinely hasn't done anything but work nonstop. It was just projects upon projects with only so little breaks in between, a month if he's lucky. Tom is one hardworking man, that's one of the many things you love about him, but he sometimes doesn't realize when he's pushing himself too far.

That's when you step in.

You'd encouraged him to take a breather, even if it's just for half a year or so but you never did pester him about it constantly as you weren't one to take him away from doing what he loves. Unless it gets way out of hand, then that's when you'll be putting your foot down. You know he'll do it whenever he's ready to slow down and now with most of his projects wrapped, he's finally decided that it was the right time to take that much needed break.

"I love the sound of that," you giggled, treading your fingers through his hair before tracing it down his chiseled jaw. "Not as much as I love the sound of you moaning though," you hummed teasingly.

"Well then, let's find our own place so you can hear me moan all for you and as loud as you want, darling," Tom purred lowly, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as his darkened orbs bored into yours, his hands sliding down to rest on the swell of your bum. He fondled the flesh hotly as he started to lean closer to capture your lips. But before Tom could even do so a loud voice made you both jump away from each other.

"For fuck's sake guys! I'm still fucking here!" Harry yelled, throwing both his hands in the air in downright annoyance and disgust as he screwed his eyes shut. "Go to your fucking room for the love of my sanity!"

You didn't even get a chance to apologise to the young lad as Tom swiftly grabbed your hand and rushed to your shared bedroom.

Nothing happened though apart from a couple minutes of making out, Tom deciding not to take it further given that you were all tipsy and intoxicated. Him deciding since you were persistent on saying you were fine even though you were giggling nonstop, easily tickled no matter how feather-like his kisses were. Not to mention how you could barely even keep your eyes open. So, both of you ended up taking a warm bath and then a nap right after that, instead.

Although the minute you sobered up, Tom made sure you weren't at all quiet this time around. It was due to the pent up tension that's been building since that somewhat steamy Q&A. And maybe, just maybe to get back at the boys a teeny bit for being little shits with both the teasing jokes and the dirty questions.

The two of you went out of your bedroom only at dinner time, stepping foot in the dining area where Harry, Tuwaine and Harrison were all situated. You felt the embarrassment coat every inch of your body when you took sight of the boys, more specifically, their expressions. Tom, on the other hand, had the cockiest smirk playing on his lips as he held his head high, tauntingly chuckling at his mates.

The three lads were sitting around the table with nothing but grimaces and downright disgust on their faces as they all grumbled in unison,

"Rabbits."

-:-:-:-:-

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[plant-flwrs]

Hi, so i was about to send a request, but my phone went all crazy and i don't know if it got send or not ): so here it goes again I was wondering if i could get a George x slytherin reader after the war, where they're dating but all his family disapproves because she had like this "bad reputation", so he gets sad and angry because this boy is super in love with her, and she is like super reserved so his family don't trust her, but she is actually such a sweetheart with him.

family is complicated // george weasley

masterlist!

a/n: this was so hard writing the weasleys as mean people omg. i love reading fics where everyone is happy at the burrow and molly is an angel so this was like tearing me apart lol. hope you like it!!

summary: The Weasley’s have never liked George’s girlfriend, and one snide remark makes George finally lose it.

also a disclaimer! family turmoil and drama ahead, so if that’s triggering to anyone, don’t read this one! <3

(3.5k)

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The sun was hidden away, tucked behind the dark clouds that littered the sky in London. It wouldn’t have mattered anyways, as the heavy curtains to your flat were drawn closed.

The sheets were in a pool around your ankles and your body shivered tirelessly. George always got warm at night and had a habit of kicking off the blankets in his sleep. You clung onto him, trying to collect some of his warmth that oozed from his shirtless chest.

Your eyes opened, feeling awfully heavy in their sockets. You didn’t want to wake up, you didn’t want to get out of bed, you didn’t want to get ready, and you didn’t want to go to the Burrow.

The Weasleys were nice to everyone but you, it felt like. They welcomed Harry, Hermione, and Angelina with open arms, but you and Fleur were the spousal outcasts. The two of you bonded over it quite often, trying to make jokes of it, but really it bothered you both quite deeply. The only difference between you and the other spouses was the green tie you wore around your neck for seven years. You hardly found that to be reason enough for the whole family to dislike you, but they didn’t.

You turned away from your boyfriend, bringing the blankets up from your ankles and wrapping them tightly around yourself. You pushed your face deeper into the pillow, hoping that if you slept all day you wouldn’t have to do the adult thing of going to your boyfriend’s family house. 

George lifted the blankets from his side, moving under them with you. He glanced at the clock on your bedside table, and saw no harm in sleeping a little longer. His warm arms found their place around you, and the two of you fell back asleep with the intentions of avoiding the Weasleys.

“They’re going to be late! I bet she’ll get him into some kind of trouble!” Ginny and the rest of her siblings could hear their mother’s shrieking voice from upstairs.

“They’re still not here?” Ginny turned to face Harry, rolling over in the small bed they shared the previous night.

“ ‘Spose not,” he mumbled bringing two heavy hands to his face and blocking out the sunlight creeping into the room.

“No wonder,” Ginny said, sitting up slowly in bed, “I wouldn’t feel inclined to come if I were her.”

“Well, George loves her,” Harry defended, finding the conversation to be one they had often.

Harry was never one to befriend Slytherins in school, but his maturing age made him able to see past the house’s reputation. He knew you couldn’t be evil if George liked you so much.

“I know he does,” Ginny snapped, “but that doesn’t make her any less,” Ginny trailed off, unable to find the right words for a moment, “weird.”

Harry sighed, feeling awake after the conversation. He brought his feet to the cold wooden floor of Ginny’s childhood room, and placed his glasses on his face. The two went down for breakfast.

“When do you think they’ll grace us with their presence?” Fred teased from his spot next to Angelina at the table.

“Whenever she feels like it,” Mr. Weasley grumbled from the head of the table, his eyes locked on the newspaper in front of him.

Fred groaned, rolling his eyes. He quite liked you. He thought that if his brother liked you, then he should too, and he had no reason to dislike you. Your ‘bad reputation’ that his mother likes to bring up so often, was for the same reason he and George had a ‘bad reputation’. You and George shared a love for mischief, and the Weasleys disapproved.

“When did you tell them to come, mum?” Bill asked from his spot next to Fleur.

Fleur was the one who wanted to know, but she had learned it was better to let Bill do the talking for her with Mrs. Weasley.

“Around supper,” she replied, moving to stand behind Bill and fidget with his long hair. He jerked from his mother’s prying hands.

“Then why are you expecting them to be here now?” Fred asked, ignoring Angelina’s warning graze on his knee.

“Everyone else is!” Mrs. Weasley defended.

“Yeah, but you didn’t tell them to get here when everyone else was,” Fred continued, giving his mother a confused look.

“You eat your breakfast, young man, and stop worrying about what I said or didn’t say,” she yelled, darting back into the kitchen to get another pan full of eggs.

Fred caught Bill’s and Fleur’s eyes from across the table and they all looked annoyed. 

You and George finally managed to roll out of bed a little after noon. The two of you stumbled down the cold streets hand in hand, still in your pajamas. You were in search of something to eat for lunch, even though you were both due at the Burrow in a couple of hours. You hated going with an empty stomach, because when you would load your plate up with Molly’s wonderful cooking, she would send you glares. You also hated going on a full stomach, because when you didn’t fill your plate with Molly’s wonderful cooking, she would send you glares. You rather her think you didn’t like her cooking than give her the opportunity to comment on your eating habits. You would watch Ginny shovel serving after serving into her mouth, and all Molly would do is pinch her cheeks and call her adorable. 

You had gotten used to the criticisms pretty early on. You and George were an odd pairing, so you didn’t expect an immediate connection to the family. However, you had figured that after five years they may have warmed up to you, but sadly they hadn’t.

George pulled you into a small café by your hand, leading you to a secluded table by the window. The two of you put in your orders, and enjoyed the serenity before having to go to what was now both your least favorite place.

You wore a flattering sweater tucked into some smart pants. Clasping a delicate gold necklace George had given you for your anniversary last year, you called out to him to see if he was ready.

He came out of the bathroom, hands busy with buttoning his shirt. He was nervous, he usually was when he saw his family these days, and his hands had a shake in them.

“Here,” you said soothingly, running your hands over the wrinkles in the shirt and moving his hands away.

You finished buttoning the shirt, and George admired you.

Here you were, comforting him, when it was you his family didn’t like. You were willing to make more of an effort than his family ever did, and he loved you so much for that.

You stepped away from him, and his fingers moved up to brush a stray piece of hair out of your eyes. His rough fingertips grazed the top of your ear as he tucked away the hair. His hand fell down to the necklace you wore, and he twisted it in his fingers,

“I love you,” he whispered, blinking slowly, as if he were trying to remember this moment forever.

George always had the fear that any trip home could be the end for the two of you. He loved you, and he knew you loved him, but he couldn’t blame you if the hatred got too much for you. 

“I love you too, Georgie,” you smiled up at him, forcing away the nausea pooling in your gut.

You went to your fireplace, checking the clock on the wall to make sure you weren’t too early and not too late. The both of you erupted in green flames, and soon the delightful smells of a homecooked meal flooded your nose.

“George!” Ron called from his spot on the couch, spotting you two first.

“Hey,” George responded in a voice you knew was trying to sound happy but came out shaky.

You stepped from the fireplace, and Molly rushed from the kitchen with her apron still on.

“My baby!” she wrapped her arms around George, pulling away and cupping his face with her hand.

He smiled down at her, and you recognized the nerves in the smile.

“Hi, Mrs. Weasley,” you said from beside George, waving and smiling shyly at her.

“Hello,” she started, already looking for something about you to be displeased with.

“Y/n! George!” Bill called, entering the house with Fleur trailing behind him.

You knew they liked to escape to the garden when they had to spend any amount of prolonged time at the Burrow, you and George joined them some times.

“Hi!” you said excitedly, not missing Molly’s scowl in the corner of your eyes.

Bill wrapped his long arms around you, hugging you like a brother. You released him and hugged Fleur next. Those would probably be the only Weasley’s that offered you a hug, as per usual.

“Where’s Fred?” George asked once he was released by his father’s arms.

“He and Angelina went upstairs for a nap a few hours ago,” Molly said, rushing back into the kitchen.

“Did you want any help, Mrs. Weasley?”  she turned on her heal, gave you a fake smile, and shook her head.

If anyone else had called her Mrs. Weasley, she would have insisted they call her Molly, but not you.

“A nap? Blimey, how old are they?” George joked.

Laughs echoed around the room, and George wrapped an arm around your waist.

The two of you stood in the living room next to Bill and Fleur, talking with Ron, Harry, and Hermione on the couch.

“Fred tells us the shops going well?” Harry said, looking to George.

“Yeah, we’re doing alright,” George replied modestly. You flickered your eyes up at him, admiring him from where you stood tucked into his side. The shop was doing amazing, it was more successful than it had ever been.

“How’s your work, Y/n?” Hermione asked politely, and an awkward haze fell across the room as they all looked at you.

No one usually addressed you at Weasley family gatherings, so you were caught off guard.

“Good,” you choked out, clearing your throat and furrowing your brow, “it’s good.”

“She was just promoted,” George said proudly from beside you, nudging a finger into your side, “that Slytherin ambition of hers.”

“Really? Congratulations,” Harry said, the first and only person to say anything.

Bill and Fleur didn’t say anything because they already knew. The four of you had taken up having dinners at your flat sometimes, finding it better for all of you than the large gatherings at the Burrow.

“George!” Fred bellowed from the staircase.

He hugged his brother, hitting him on the back as they embraced. You smiled politely at Angelina, who nodded her head curtly at you.

“Y/n!” Fred said once he released George, hugging you.

Angelina’s eyes bore into Fred’s back as he did, but he didn’t care.

You smiled brightly at Fred, feeling relieved to have his happiness there. He and George were always the first to stick up for you when it came to Molly.

“Dinner!”

You all gathered around three tables put together in the garden, watching as dishes of food were levitated across the table. You served yourself food, catching Mrs. Weasley watching you with a critical eye from her spot at the head of the table.

Conversation flowed, though you, George, Fleur, and Bill generally kept to yourselves.

Bill sat at the other head of the table, with Fleur to his right and you to his left. George sat next to you, and the four of you talked like it was one of your usual dinners at your flat. It was better this way, less room for conflict.

All you had to do was make it through desert, which was moved into the house. That was it, one last meal and then you and George could say goodnight and be in the safety of your own home.

“Oh, I don’t think you want any of this dear,” Molly said to you, pulling away with a plate of cake in her hands,

“Mum,” George warned, holding his hand out for the plate while the other wrapped around your shoulders protectively.

You were never one to stop George from sticking up for you, which made Mrs. Weasley angrier. She looked to you, expecting you to give up the fight and not want any cake, but you looked right back at her with a blank look.

“She had an awful lot at dinner, George, she must be full.”

“Mum,” George said, louder and more angry.

“Don’t take that tone with your mother,” Mr. Weasley came from behind his wife, placing two comforting hands on her shoulders.

“Don’t speak to my girlfriend like that, and I won’t,” he responded, managing to sound somewhat calm, though a sharpness was in his tone.

“Excuse you?” Mr. Weasley questioned, his face becoming stern.

“George, let it go-” Ginny started from where she sat with Harry, the first one to take notice of the argument developing.

“No!” George said harshly to Ginny, whipping his head to look at her.

“What’s wrong?” Fred asked from behind you, shoveling cake into his mouth.

“Mum and dad are being rude to Y/n,” George started, looking accusingly at his parents, “for what? The millionth time?”

Mrs. Weasley gasped, putting down the cake on the counter next to her.

“George!” she exclaimed, prepared to make excusing defenses in her honor.

“It’s true mum,” Fred said from behind his brother, voice muffled by the cake in his mouth, “you’ve been, and usually are, quite rude to Y/n. And Fleur.”

You and Fleur made eye contact, both of your eyes widening as you realized tonight was the night where everything went to shit. No more passive aggressive comments, no more pretending everything was fine. After this, your invitation to the Burrow might be permanently revoked.

“He’s right, mum,” Bill’s cool voice said from beside Fleur, and everyone’s gaze shot to him, “you have it out for Y/n and Fleur.”

You stepped back, and George followed you, his arm still around you. It was like a triangle in the room, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley at the edge of the kitchen, Bill and Fleur by the fireplace, and you, George, and Fred edging nearer the staircase.

“I don’t know what you talking about,” Molly defended, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Yes you do,” George said, narrowing his eyes at his parents.

“It’s late,” Mr. Weasley said, “maybe you lot should go home now.”

George scoffed from beside you, unwrapping his arm from your shoulder and stepping forward.

“Okay, Fleur, Y/n, why don’t you two go back to our flat,” George said in a soothing voice, “and we’ll talk this out, like a family.”

You fought the proud smile that wanted to spread across your face, and nodded your head. Fred guided you to the fireplace with a hand on your back, and winked at you as you and Fleur erupted in green flames once again.

“Well, this is not going to end well,” you mumbled to Fleur once you got home, putting a kettle on the stove, preparing enough water for George and Bill if they eventually came back too.

The yelling coming from the Burrow was unlike anything the small village had ever heard. Shouts of anger drifted from the windows, and the intensity of the argument could be felt for miles.

“You have no right to treat them the way you do!” Bill shouted at his parents, and also casted an accusing glance at Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and Angelina. Harry had sunk into the couch, the only person still sitting as everyone else sprang to their feet. 

“She’s not right for him, and Fleur’s not right for you!” Molly screamed back.

“You don’t get to decide that! I love her, Bill loves Fleur. What’s different about them? You love Hermione, you love Angelina, you love Harry. Why should Y/n and Fleur have to get the shit end of your behavior!” George yelled, waving his hands frantically.

“Y/n doesn’t even try with us!” Ginny interrupted, stepping closer to George, “She just talks to you and Fleur!”

“Because none of you ever gave her a chance! She tried so hard the first time I brought her here, and you all made her leave crying!”

Ron and Harry felt a pang of guilt at the thought of the remarks they had made about Slytherins the first time George took you to the Burrow.

“I don’t trust her,” Molly said, her voice stern but quiet.

“I frankly don’t care, mum. I love her. If you’re going to make me choose, I’ll choose her. Every time. I love her,” George said, his voice lowered and shaky.

“Me too, I’ll choose Fleur,” Bill spoke up, moving his wand from his pocket to prepare to apparate. 

“Boys,” Arthur warned, stepping forwards and trying to soothe the situation, “don’t upset your mother.”

“Let them go! They’ve made their choices!” Molly pouted, moving to sit, defeated, at the table.

“Fine. Send me an owl if you ever come to your senses,” George said, moving towards the fireplace and picking up a handful of floo powder.

“Fleur and I have given you enough chances, don’t send us an owl. Goodbye,” Bill said finitely, apparating before anyone could say anything. 

George hesitated in the fireplace, meeting everyone’s guilty looking expression. No one spoke up, and he nodded towards Fred, saying goodbye. He was back home in seconds.

You and Fleur turned to the men who had both just appeared in your living room. Bill had tears running down his face, and Fleur went to him immediately. Fleur looked to you and you pointed down the hall towards you and George’s bedroom, allowing them a place to have some privacy. George fell onto the couch next to you, and you went to the kitchen to bring him a cup of tea.

“What happened?” you spoke in a soft tone,

George retold everything, and you felt your throat closing as tears threatened your eyes. 

“Oh, George,” you mumbled, taking his tea from his hands and placing it on the coffee table You held him, the both of you feeling exhausted. His upper body leaned into your lap, and you held his shoulders, soothing bits of his hair off his face.

You could hear the muffled voices of Bill and Fleur from your bedroom.

Suddenly, five people apparated into your living room. George sat up, and you grasped his hand as you looked at Harry, Ginny, Hermione, Ron, and Fred all standing awkwardly in your living room.

“Nice place,” Ron said suddenly, craning his neck to look around the room.

Neither you or George responded and Hermione nudged Ron with her elbow.

“Right, sorry,” he mumbled, his lips going into a thin line.

“We wanted to say something,” Fred said, breaking apart from the group and coming to sit with you and George on the couch.

He turned around, looking at the group.

“We’re sorry,” Harry said first, looking at you, “I should have never said those things about Slytherins, it was stupid and so was I.”

You swallowed hard, eyes downcast at the floor.

“So am I. I actually think you’re quite cool,” Ron said, sounding just as awkward as you remembered him to be in school.

“I never meant to make you feel uncomfortable. I’m sorry I stood back and let you get treated that way,” Hermione said next, and you met her sorrowful gaze. You nodded at her, returning your eyes to the floor.

Harry nudged Ginny, who reluctantly spoke, “I’m sorry too. If George loves you, then so do I.”

You smiled at the floor, nerves twisting in your stomach like they did when you first went to the Burrow.

“You guys were idiots,” George said sternly from besides you. 

Your shoulders shook, and George lifted your chin with his fingers. He met your eyes, afraid you were crying, but was happy to see you laughing.

You looked at the group, chuckling senselessly.

“Thank you,” you said, “it’s a shame you’ll have to do that whole bit again for Bill and Fleur, though.”

Everyone laughed, and the group hadn’t realized Bill and Fleur weren’t there anymore.

“Did they leave already?” Fred asked from beside you.

“No, there in our room for some privacy,” you answered, pointing a finger down the hall.

“Ah,” Fred said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Not like that,” George reached behind you and hit the back of Fred’s head.

You stood, going to the kitchen and retrieving all the mugs you had in your cabinets.

“Need some help?” Ginny asked from behind you, Hermione by her side.

“Sure,” you smiled at them, and Ginny and Hermione moved into the kitchen.

They helped you carry out the hot cups of tea, placing them on the table. Bill and Fleur had emerged from the room, and were sat on the couch. You sat on the other side of Fleur, catching George’s eyes from where he sat on an armchair across from you.

He looked happy, finally being able to sit with his family and you in the same room without nerves plaguing his every thought.

[sunfleurry]

Fires and Flames

Warnings: Smut, language, & alcohol.

Disclaimer: I write stories and use Harry Styles as a face claim. In no way shape or form does my writing reflect how I perceive the actual Harry to be. These are my characters, the face is just a bonus!

I should’ve left the minute I saw the look in his eyes when I told him. I was laying with my head on his chest, my bare skin sticking to his with the sheen of sweat covering our bodies. His fingers were lightly tracing the length of my spine as we caught our breaths in the quiet of the night under the lavish chandelier he had splurged on for his bedroom. I knew he could feel my heart rate speed up as my mind fought the urge to tell him, just tell him how I felt—how I still feel—before the courage I had would slip away. So, I did.

“I love you.”

If the room wasn’t quiet before, it was quiet now as his fingers stilled and we both stopped breathing. In my case, it was because I wanted to put all my focus on his response, his reaction, anything. In his case, well, I didn’t know why he did that. I thought it was from pure shock of hearing me say it for the first time, but deep down, I knew it was because of a deeper reason. A reason that would only be the downfall of what was once considered “us.” And I saw it coming the moment we met.

________________

My friend Vi was yelling something in my ear but I could barely hear her over the loud music, so I simply nodded. She looked at me weird and I realized that nod may have been the wrong response.

“I can’t hear anything you’re saying,” I yelled.

She leaned over and cupped her hands around my ear and proceeded to loudly repeat what she said. “That guy has been staring at you since we got here.”

“Who?”

She pointed at the bar and I followed her finger until I spotted a man in his mid-twenties who was alone, nursing a cup of God knows what. When we made eye contact, he nodded his head in acknowledgement then took a sip of his drink.

He was cute.

“Should I go talk to him?” I asked Vi.

“Are you kidding me? If you don’t I will.”

I laughed. She had a point. He was handsome, what with his brown hair that curled slightly around his ears and forehead, or the tattoos that littered his arms. I eyed his clothing and wondered if there were more underneath.

Straightening myself, I awkwardly started walking towards him, extra cautious of my ankles as I hoped my heels wouldn’t betray me in front of the handsome stranger. Seeing me approach, he set his glass on the counter, and watched me make my way over. I was getting self-conscious under his gaze, but I kept my head held high until finally I was standing right in front of him.

“Are you going to ask for my number or are you going to keep staring at me all night?” My words exuded the confidence I was not feeling on the inside.

His lips twitched, the corners turning upwards. It was barely noticeable, and I had to rip my eyes away from his gorgeous green ones to see it. “How about we skip all of that and go straight to mine.”

I laughed in disbelief. “No thank you.”

The man nodded in understanding, then turned back to his glass.

I don’t know why I didn’t leave him alone after that. Why was he here all alone? I asked him just that.

He slowly turned his body towards me before looking away a moment later. “Can’t a man go out for a drink on his own? Maybe I like my own company.”

“You don’t seem to be having a fun time.” I was overstepping it. Who was I to make assumptions about a stranger?

He sighed and looked down at his drink. I decided to sit next to him. “What’s your name?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

I rolled my eyes. Well, I tried. I put my palms on the counter to lift myself up when a ringed hand covered my own.

“It’s Harry,” he said.

I studied his face, trying to understand what exactly was going on inside his head. He had the eyes of a boy trying his best to make up for a mistake he didn’t know he made. He almost seemed desperate for me to forgive his aloofness. It was as if he was just learning how to be social for the first time.

I smiled and replied with my own name.

________________

Harry didn’t say anything for the longest thirty seconds of my life. I lifted my head to peer at him, trying to gauge what he was thinking. He was frowning lightly, his gaze fixed on my face but not my eyes. He seemed to be frozen on the outside, but I knew that his thoughts were running a mile a minute–it’s what he does. He’s an overthinker, and that moment was not different from all the other moments he had to stop and think about people’s intentions towards him.

I would be lying if I said the fact that he had to question my confession didn’t sting, or that the look in his eyes was nothing of what I wanted to see. I wanted to see relief, happiness, contentment. But all I saw was nothing. Emptiness.

Finally, he opened his mouth, and I stupidly felt a surge of hope, but then he closed it without a sound—and my hope deflated.

I leaned over and softly brushed my lips to his cheek. “It’s okay,” I whispered before I started detaching myself from him. I wanted to cry but not in front of him. Instead, with a heavy lump in my throat and tears threatening to spill, I found my panties on the floor and slipped them on, then threw his button up over my shoulders.

I heard rustling behind me, then my name sounding from his mouth stopped me at the doorway to his bathroom.

I turned around and he winced. I imagined it was because the emotion I’ve always been bad at hiding was clear as day on my face. It’s something I struggled with since I was a child and still try to work on to this day.

He was sat up now, the blanket covering his lower half, his back slightly curved. He looked at me with a pained face. “I don’t–”

“I know,” I sighed before concealing myself completely from his view by finally closing the door behind me and letting out a large breath. I clutched at the fabric covering my chest, as if I was holding in my aching heart, my tears spilling, one by one. I dropped my head in my hands to stifle my sobs, not wanting him to hear how much he affected me. I’m not sure why I thought that would work, when not two minutes ago I told him I loved him.

________________

That night, we ended up in my bed together.

“Yes,” I gasped, “harder.”

He fucked me like I’d never been fucked before. He was rough the way I liked it–he quickly learned how to push my buttons.

I was on my knees, my face pressed into the mattress as he took me the way he wanted to. My hands clenched around the sheets at a particular hard thrust and he groaned when I tensed around him. I gasped when he pulled out but then he flipped me over on my back. I smiled as he got on top of me, his arms caging my head, before he entered me once again.

I was mesmerized by the intensity in his eyes as he stole pleasure from my body. I wrapped my legs around his hips as did my arms around his shoulders to bring him closer to me. I welcomed his comforting weight on top of me.

I carded my fingers through his hair and when he moved his gaze from my breasts to my face, I couldn’t resist but lift my head and connect our lips. Upon realizing what I did, I quickly pulled away and opened my mouth to apologize profusely.

“I told you not to kiss me,” he panted as he pulled out of me.

“I know I’m sorry! I don’t know what got over me, I was just in the moment.”

He rolled off and slumped on the bed beside me, the both of us breathing hard. He was quiet, I didn’t know if he was expecting me to say anything else or if he was planning on leaving.

I swallowed and stared up at the ceiling feeling guilty. One of the first things he had told me when when we got in the cab was not to kiss him. I thought it was a weird request, and I was kind of bummed, but I respected it. I tried to at least.

I was about to start another wave of apologies, but I didn’t have time to think about what was happening before Harry leaned his weight on his elbow to slot his lips with mine. I didn’t think twice as I kissed him back, brushing away the initial shock. I realized at that moment that I liked kissing him. A lot.

With his lips still moving with mine, he got back on top of me, and finished what he started.

________________

After a moment of trying to control my breathing, I slipped off what little clothing I had on and climbed into the shower. The steamy water hitting my body helped me relax and my mood lifted slightly as I washed and soaped my skin and hair. Watching the water fall down the drain, I imagined it to be my feelings, one by one, disappearing into the ground and out of sight.

I faintly heard the bathroom door open, then his footsteps, and finally the shower door. Harry climbed in behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, and pulled me closer, holding me against him. His damp curls tickled my cheek when he leaned forward and kissed my neck twice, before bringing his lips up to my ear.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

I swallowed the lump that had once again formed in my throat. I brought my hand to my stomach where his arms were and entwined our fingers. “I’m not taking it back. I meant it.”

He kissed my skin again. “I know.”

I rolled my lips inward as I nodded my head once, then turned around, his arms still encircling my body. I reached up and gently held his face to simply lock eyes with him. I secretly cursed him for making my heart stutter just by looking at him, at those eyes that say so much, yet nothing all at once. I’d always been captivated by them, not just by their striking green colour, but the stories they hid. Every day, I tried so hard to read him, understand what he was thinking about, what he was worrying about, what he was remembering–I even asked him at times, “what are you thinking about?” or “what is it?” He’d always just shrug, smile and kiss me to make me forget. But I never forgot.

________________

It wasn’t the first time this happened. I was in the kitchen washing the dishes and he was in his room. I was drying my hands when suddenly I heard him call out my name. The tone of his voice had me drop the towel on the floor and hurry towards his bedroom. He was leaning over his dresser, an arm on the top keeping him upright as he took shallow breaths.

“Oh, Harry,” I whispered as I rushed to his side.

I carefully led him to his bed to have him sit down. “Breathe with me,” I said, gently.

His eyes were wild as he tried to comply. I breathed calmly and grabbed his hand, urging him to copy me. The contact seemed to help as he started to calm down.

“Now count with me,” I said. “We’re going to get through this.”

After a while, his breathing finally eased up, and tears welled in his eyes but didn’t fall.

“Come here,” I said as I helped him lay down. I crawled behind him and tangled our legs together while I hugged his back to my chest. I kissed his hair as I worked on keeping my breathing steady, making sure he was still doing the same.

“Don’t ever leave me,” he croaked.

“I’m right here,” I whispered into his hair.

“I need you.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

________________

He let go of me when I grabbed the shampoo. I squeezed some onto my palm as he sat on the protruding ledge in the shower, making it easier for me to reach his hair. One thing I knew about Harry was that he loved it when I washed his hair. I didn’t mind, because it gave me an excuse to run my hands through it, another feature to admire of the man I fell in love with. I could feel my eyes stinging once again and this time I let the tears fall freely. He was peering up at me as I lathered his hair with my fingertips, making sure I soaped his roots thoroughly. I hoped my tears were blending into the water–that he didn’t know I was crying–but then his face fell in concern.

“Hey,” he slid his hands behind my thighs to urge me closer. “Come here.”

That did it for me. A sob clawed its way out of my throat, and Harry quickly sat me on his lap as I buried my face into his neck and let everything I was holding in escape. I felt him lean forward before the water was shut off and we were left in the steam of the shower as I proceeded to break in his arms.

________________

“What the fuck is this, Harry?” I was seething.

“It’s not what it looks like.”

“Of course it’s what it looks like!” I yelled as I shoved the phone in his face.

“They’re just friends,” he sighed.

Tears of frustration welled up as I tried to grasp at this whole mess. “You left, Harry. Without a fucking word and days later I find pictures of you at some beach resort with a random girl all over you?”

He held his hands up. “We were just dancing, I promise.”

I pulled at the roots in my hair. “You don’t get it! Forget what you were doing at that exact moment, Harry! I visit you every day because I care about you and I get worried about you and I want to make sure you’re okay. Then one day you don’t answer the door and excuse me for thinking of the worst case scenario! You don’t answer my calls or my texts, hell, I even fucking emailed you, only to find out days later via Instagram that you were outside of the fucking country having the time of your life?!”

I fell back on the couch feeling nothing but raw anger and hurt as I waited for him to say something.

He got on his knees in front of me but I moved my head out of the way when he tried to cup my face. “Don’t touch me.”

“Baby–”

I balled my hands into fists. “Don’t call me that, I don’t want to hear you calling me that right now.”

“Fine, fine,” he cried. He hugged my legs and laid his head on my knees. “I’m so sorry. You may not believe me but I thought of you every day while I was gone.”

I scoffed at that and crossed my arms over my chest, making sure I didn't touch him. I quickly wiped at the wetness on my cheek, not wanting him to see that I am not only mad, but also sad and hurt. “Disrespect me one more time and we’re over, Harry.”

His head snapped up and panic took over his features. “No, please. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

I started crying because everything was too much for me. He did something that had me panicking for days.

“I don’t deserve you,” he continued.

“This isn’t the first time you do this, Harry,” I sniffled. He got off the floor and pulled me into his arms as he laid back on the couch.

“I know and I am so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. Sometimes I get so overwhelmed, and I feel like I’m in a box, like my surroundings are closing in. It makes me want to escape, it’s animalistic, I feel like I’m going crazy. At that moment, as if someone was listening to my prayers to make it go away, my friend called me asking me if I wanted to go on a short getaway with him and some other people. I said yes and out of sheer desperation, booked a flight right away.”

“And you didn’t even think of me.”

He held me tight. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t know what I was thinking. It was like I blacked out. Again, I am so sorry.”

I let out a long, exhausted breath. I knew what I was getting myself into when I met Harry yet I still went through with it. He was a sad man, a broken man and I still believed he would be the perfect boyfriend. “It’s okay,” I rubbed his chest. “It’s okay.”

As we both laid there in each other’s arms, I couldn’t help but think, I shouldn’t have been comforting him. He was supposed to be comforting me.

________________

“Please don’t cry,” I heard him say as he brushed back my wet hair, the majority of it sticking to my neck. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

I continued to cry into his neck, not believing how much I had bottled up until that moment. Suddenly I felt wet droplets soak my skin, and I knew it wasn’t the water.

A sniffle escaped Harry and it confirmed my suspicions as he hugged me closer and cried with me. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered brokenly.

I closed my eyes, as we held each other tightly, and didn’t deny it. He was right, I thought sadly, he didn’t deserve me. He put me through hell, and I let him. I naively believed that I could change him, make him feel better–fix him. I wanted to laugh at myself. How could I have been so stupid? He pushed me away too many times to count, yet I stubbornly stayed. Because I loved him. I let myself fall in love with him. And now we’re both facing the heartbreak that’s been looming over our relationship–or whatever it was–since the start.

When I reluctantly leaned back to look at him, I wanted to break down all over again. I’d never seen him cry, and it was a sight I wished I could unsee because his sadness felt like a stab in my heart. I always knew he was a sad man but I’d never seen it on his face so clearly. I saw it through his actions, through his words, but seeing the red eyes, the lowered brows, the downturned lips that I thought about every day, and the tears that littered his red cheeks made me wish I was some magical being who can erase the broken pieces of him.

His gaze followed the movement of my throat as I swallowed then it lifted back up to my own. It was like we were having a silent conversation with our eyes–like we were both dreading opening our mouths and actually sounding out the words that would be the end of us. Then his hand trailed up my skin and the pressure of it on the back of my head encouraged me to lean forward and attach my lips to his.

________________

I smiled brightly as I spotted Harry sitting on a park bench reading a book. He looked so handsome in his tortoise shell glasses and messy hair. As if sensing my presence, he looked up and the smile that graced his features made me want to melt in a puddle. That smile. All for me, I thought giddily as I hurried my pace, eager to be in his arms.

Then, I felt a tug on my skirt and fingers brushing the skin on my thighs. My eyes widened as I looked at the man who had just walked by me and didn’t even look back. When I snapped my gaze to Harry, he was already marching towards the man who had touched me, completely ignoring my pleas to let it go.

“Are you okay?” He asked, eyes still glaring at the man who was now talking to a woman ten metres away.

“I’m fine, Harry,” I said warily, putting my hands on his chest.

“That fucking entitled prick,” he said, anger boiling inside him.

“It’s all good, calm down.”

“Fuck this,” he brushed my hands off and stomped towards the man. The latter barely got a look at him before my boyfriend’s fist connected with his face.

The woman and I let out a short scream. I ran towards Harry, pulling his shoulders to get him off the stranger who was now on the floor, flimsily blocking the onslaught of Harry’s hits to his face.

“Harry! Stop!”

He didn’t seem to hear me as he didn’t let up. I looked around for help, but everyone seemed happy to watch two men fight. I gasped when the man was able to hit Harry in the jaw. There was no room for careful consideration before I flung myself towards the two men with the intention of throwing myself in between them before someone grabbed me by the waist.

“Get off me!” I yelled at the boy who was holding me back but he only laughed.

I was beyond exasperated and annoyed. “Harry, I swear to God if you don’t stop I will turn around and never look back.”

He seemed to hear that at least. The creep put me down, thankfully before Harry saw.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

________________

I poured every emotion into the kiss. I held his head in my hands as our lips moved together in sync, like they always did. I was telling him I loved him again with that kiss. He nudged my leg and I complied with his silent request to bring it over his lap to straddle him.

He deepened the kiss as his arms snaked around my waist. He’d never kissed me like that, like he was desperately trying to make me understand who he was and why he was the way he was. He kissed me with love and comfort, happiness and fulfillment, but also with sadness and regret, sorrow and dejection.

I was growing tired of my tears but they seemed to be here to stay as my eyes started watering again. “I don’t know how I’ll live after this,” I choked but he only shook his head as he brushed a piece of my hair behind my ear.

“You are the most amazing person I’ve ever met. Listen to me,” he pleaded when I looked down, unable to hold eye contact. He nudged my chin up to lock eyes once again. “You are the light of my life. And I’m begging you,” he whispered, his breath fanning my lips, “don’t let me be the reason that light goes out. I’ve done enough damage, don’t let me do any more.”

________________

I loved him like this. Relaxed, no creases between his eyebrows, a smile on his face. We were spending the afternoon at my place–talking and laughing about stupid things, the wine we drank making us even more giggly.

We were progressing with our relationship and I was somewhat satisfied with it. I knew it would be tough to get him to open up, but slowly and surely, he’d been getting much more comfortable around me–enough to tell me more about himself. Not his secrets of course, the ones that left him the broken man he is, but he was definitely becoming more affectionate. He was letting me in. I had seen pictures of his brothers and sisters and his mother and father around the house but every time I asked about them, he’d shut down.

I asked him again another time and he gave me a little more.

“They’re not around anymore.”

That could mean so many different things, but I decided that was enough for now. I was satisfied with the fact that he was able to give me that sliver of information. Any progress was good progress.

“We’re all out of wine,” I pouted as I stared at the empty bottle on the coffee table, leaning back into the loveseat.

He chuckled. “There may or may not be an extra bottle in the kitchen.”

I jumped up and started making my way to the kitchen but as I passed by him, he intercepted me and I squealed as he left me to fall on his chest. “I hate you,” I laughed.

He kissed my nose, making me giggle. “No you don’t”

“No I don’t.”

“See?” He asked as his hand tickled my side.

I squirmed out of the way, an obnoxious laugh escaping me. “I need to get the wine.”

“I don’t want wine anymore,” Harry said, encouraging me to lay my head on him. “I have you now.”

I sighed in contentment and smiled as I listened to his heartbeat.

________________

“I love you.”

“Don’t,” he winced. “Please.”

I kissed him again and he responded without hesitation. This time, the kiss held more passion and fervour. It reminded me of the first time we had sex almost a year and a half ago, when it was all a rush and we couldn’t get enough of each other. I moaned when his tongue touched mine and he reached down to slip his fingers between my folds, the palm of his hand a constant pressure on my clit. I whined into his mouth when he inserted a finger inside, then two, and started carefully rubbing my inner walls. I reached down and grabbed his dick and stroked until I felt it start to harden in my hands.

“That’s enough,” I mumbled and reached down to stop his hand. I was already going to come.

“I’m sorry. I just assumed–”

“No,” I pressed my lips to his in a searing kiss. “That’s not what I meant.”

I ran my thumb over the tip of his length and he shuddered. “Are you sure?”

I smiled sadly and rested a hand on his cheek. “Yes.”

He helped me lean forward, letting me align his length with my centre before I started sinking down, and he slowly entered me in a way I never got used to. The delicious stretch always required a moment for me to adjust before I started moving. He tightened his hold on me when I started doing just that.

________________

“Harry,” I asked as I brushed his hair with my finger. We were sitting on the floor, my back to the couch as he sat between my legs. I had just helped him through another panic attack and there we were, fifteen minutes later still on the floor. My ass was getting numb but I didn’t want to get up until Harry was ready. “Have you ever considered therapy?”

He stiffened. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Let’s not talk about it.”

“But–”

He turned around and gave me a long look.

“Okay, fine,” I sighed.

He leaned over and kissed me. “Thank you.”

I said, “This isn’t over. I’m not letting this go.”

“I know,” he shook his head before making me lay down on the floor and trailing his lips across my chest. “Need you.”

I laughed and helped him undress me.

________________

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” I gasped as I started moving with the help of his hands on my hips.

The steam from our shower was already fading away, but the heat remained and paired with our movements, sweat coated our bodies, allowing us to move more easily against each other.

My knees were planted on either side of him on the ledge as he held me to him to prevent me falling backwards. Our lips never separated, moaning into each other’s mouths as we relished in the feeling we were experiencing for the last time. The thought made a sob escape my mouth and he squeezed my hips, pausing my movements.

“We can stop,” he mumbled sweetly, ducking his head to try and get me to look at him.

I shook my head. “I’m sorry, I’m fine,” my voice broke at the last syllable. Finally mustering up the courage to look at him, I only wanted to cry harder. He had tears falling, eyes red and sad, and I wished we could turn back time and fix every problem we had the way we were supposed to. I wished we were other people, in another lifetime, who had no issues and who knew how to make us work.

“Come here,” he said and I closed my eyes when his lips touched mine.

I started moving again and he whispered words of encouragement and praise.

Break-up sex was supposed to be quick and dirty. What we were doing right then was sheer torture. We were prolonging the pain, both too scared to face what reality we would face as soon as we were done.

________________

“Harry, we need to talk about this.”

It was another fight. About the same damn thing.

He snapped his head towards me.

“You can’t keep relying on me for your happiness.”

He frowned. “What does that even mean?”

“I mean you finally agreed to go to therapy which is great, but this is the fourth time you ‘forgot’ to go this month.”

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.”

I wanted to roll my eyes. Why out of all times, he chose then to act stupid? “Baby, if you would just talk to me, open up to me, I wouldn’t be after you about this but you won’t even tell me anything. Sometimes I sit back and think to myself, I know nothing about him. My own boyfriend.”

He scoffed. “You know plenty.”

I grew restless. “I know your name, I know where you work, I know your favourite drink–especially because you reach for it more than you should.”

He grit his teeth at the last statement but I stood by it. I continued, “I know your birthday, I know what car you drive.”

“What’s my favourite colour?”

“Orange. Harry, that means fuck all compared to what I am trying to tell you. I don’t know where you grew up, I don’t know any of your friends–”

“I told you why! They’re not good people!”

“Then why do you spend time with them? Tell me why!”

“I don’t need to tell you anything,” he snapped.

I decided the best response was to walk away, which was what I did. Fuck that, I couldn’t deal with him anymore.

“Don’t walk away from me!” He yelled and I could hear his footsteps catching up to mine.

That fight ended one of both ways all our fights ended. With me comforting him or sex.

________________

His arms wrapped tightly around me, holding me in place as he started rutting upwards. The moans I emitted told him he was hitting that sweet spot inside me with every thrust. I closed my eyes and rested my forehead on his as I let myself feel every inch of him as he got more rough by the second. I knew he was watching me but I couldn’t take it anymore–looking into his eyes hurt my heart, I could feel it break the longer I stared at him. For the first time since I met him, I let myself hide from him. I didn’t give him what he wanted, I didn’t keep my eyes open the way I knew he wanted. I stood my ground, kept my eyes closed despite the tears slipping past my lids, and selfishly let myself feel him for the last time.

My climax hit me out of nowhere and I jerked forward, clawing at his shoulders as he continued to pound into me. My moans echoed loudly in the closed shower stall as I continued to tense around him.

Harry groaned as he held my head in his hands and wiped my tears with his thumbs. I finally lost self control–I let my eyes meet his and saw grief, a look I had only seen once and that was when I asked him about his family. “Harry,” I breathed.

“Shhhhh,” he kissed me. “I’m okay. I’m only worried about you.”

I shook my head. “No, you—“

He kissed me again to shut me up. I reciprocated this time.

Suddenly he groaned as he thrusted a couple more times and I winced from the sensitivity down there. He tensed and burrowed his face in my neck allowing me to hold him close through his orgasm as he breathed hard and finally spilled into me. I didn’t want him to let go. I didn’t want this to be the end.

“I love you, Harry.”

He didn’t say anything.

I separated myself from him and he steadied me before I looked at him for the last time while wiping his wet cheeks. I couldn’t resist leaning down and giving him the softest of kisses.

“I don’t regret you.”

Then I left.

Part 2

A/N: HI BITCHES IM BACK AFTER A MUCH NEEDED MENTAL HEALTH BREAK <3 I missed you. I’m gonna be uploading my favourite fics that I deleted months ago along with my blog.

[adminbryantsaki]

Alpha! Mafia! Yandere! Hizashi Yamada x Omega! Female! Reader.

( i am here again for a third time with the bnharem’s server collab. This time it is a villain or Villain swap AU. I picked Hizashi Yamada for this AU. I hope you enjoy this story. Make sure to check out everyone else’s stories here. You can read my other works here. Thanks to @koniginwrites for all her help. The banner was made by @dollfacedwithadirtymind. I would recommend listening to Purple Lamborghini by Skrillex and Sucker for Pain by Imagine Dragons while you listen to this to help understand the story below)

(Disclaimer: I do not condone the actions of a Yandere and having a real -life relationship with one is toxic and not safe. Killing someone is not cool people)

TW: Breeding kink, blood, omegaverse shenanigans, yandere, knives, pregnancy, do not read if Endeavor is your comfort character.

If this isn’t your cup of tea, blend of spices, or brew of coffee, move on.

WC: 13,259

You were walking around in the decent-sized apartment that you and your boyfriend, Hizashi Yamada lived in. You had known your boyfriend for a few years now. The two of you had met at a strip club that he had been working a gig at. When the two of you met, he was curious as to why such a cute little thing like you was doing in a place like this. After his gig, the two of you talked and he gave you his number and you called him later that night. When you got home that evening, you called him and the two of you set up a date later that week at a cafe that Hizashi recommended. When you arrived at the cafe, you looked around the cafe to look for your date. You spotted Hizashi and waved. He looked up and saw you and waved back. You would walk over to the table after you ordered your drink. Hizashi stood up from the table that he was sitting at and walked over to you. He looked handsome his white button-down jacket and leather trousers as he approached you. You noticed his hair was tied back in a half bun and the glasses that he wore had transition lenses so it looked like he was wearing sunglasses while he was indoors.

“Hello there, Y/N.” He spoke. You looked up at him and smiled.

“Hello, Hizashi. How are you?” You asked.

“I’m good. I’m glad you could find the place. It’s not easy to find. What did you want to order? I’ll pay for it.” He offered.

“I can pay for my own drink. Thank you though.” You responded.

“I insist. This is our first date, I’ll pay.” He responded and pulled out his wallet as the two of you walked up to the register. You told him your order and he repeated it to the cashier and paid for the drink. When your drink was ready, you carried the warm mug and thanked the barista before walking back to the table with Hizashi. He waited until you were seated before retaking his seat across from you.

“So, tell me about yourself, Y/N.” He spoke to start the conversation.

“There’s not much to know about me, I’m pretty basic.” You spoke. Hizashi didn’t believe it. He looked you in the eyes and kept eye contact with you.

“I don’t believe that for a second. You’re cute, and I like the color of your eyes.” He told you. This comment made you blush and look away from the man in front of you.

“Thank you.” You spoke at last. You didn’t remember the last time a man complimented you without the intention of getting in your pants. Hizashi smiled and held your hand.

“You’re welcome.” He said before taking a sip of his drink. You smiled and took a sip of your drink as well. You told him more about yourself and he told you about himself in return. You learned that he had gone to the famous UA when he attended school. You also learned that he also was a radio show host after he decided to step back from hero work. This caught your interest.

“What made you step away from the hero work?” You asked him. You wanted to make sure the man in front of you wasn’t a villain. His eyes flicked up to you when you asked him about his hero work.

“I wanted to focus more on my radio show.” He responded while rubbing the back of his head.

‘Smooth recovery, Yamada.’ He thought to himself. You were smarter than that though. You could read past his cover up.

“Tell me the truth or I’m walking out of here.” You told him in a serious tone. Hizashi froze up and panic began to set in. He was afraid that you would still leave even after what he was about to tell you.

“Now don’t judge me for what I am about to tell you. There has been signs in the past few months that the society that we live in is crumbling. There was a point where it wasn’t safe for Pro Heroes to work as Heroes anymore. After we discussed our options, we left the Hero Commission and joined the Yakuza. Our boss is the former Hero Gang Orca. Don’t worry, we still do things for good but we’re no longer associated with the Hero Commission. That society is corrupt.” Hizashi spoke. You looked back at him for a moment and looked around the café. You noticed one of the baristas as another former pro hero. You noticed some other people that were probably former Pro Heroes as well sitting in the café.

“This place is one of the businesses that your boss owns?” You asked. Hizashi nodded. You smiled.

“That’s cool. As long as you don’t do anything illegal, I’m ok with it.” you told him. He relaxed and kissed the back of your hand. A couple of people from the back had caught your eye. You looked over at them and your eyes widened. You saw a dark-haired man sitting next to another person that had yellow eyes and purple smoke concealing his face and hands.

“Who are they?” You asked him as you gestured over to the table the two men were sitting at. Hizashi looked back and noticed that they had been watching the whole time.

“They are my friends from back in high school. The tired looking guy with black hair is Shouta. The guy with the yellow eyes and purple smoke all over the place is Kurogiri. They’re also in the same group as I am. We actually pulled Kurogiri from the League of Villains and got him to join us. He’s our mode of escape since he can warp to anywhere as long as he knows the coordinates to that place.” He explained to you. You nodded and glanced over at the two men who acknowledged you. You turned back to Hizashi who had a nervous look on his face.

“What is it, Hizashi?” You asked him as you took another sip of your drink.

“I want to ask you one more thing before I take you home.” He asked.

“Go ahead and ask.” You spoke. The man in front of you took a deep breath and looked you in the eyes.

“I’m an Alpha and I don’t have a mate yet. I’d like it if you’d be interested in being my mate.” He spoke. You were stunned. The two of you were only on the first date and he was asking you to be his mate? You looked at Hizashi again, this time noticing the tattoos on his neck and wrists that were now peeking out of his shirt. You smiled and held his hand back.

“You’re lucky there’s no other Alphas after me right now. I’m an Omega and I’d love to be your mate.” You responded. Hizashi let out a sigh of relief and kissed the back of your hand. He stood up and held your hand as the two of you walked out of the café with Aizawa and Kurogiri following behind the both of you at a distance. Hizashi took you to his car and drove you back to your apartment. You gave him directions even though he had secretly found out your address before the date. Hizashi parked the car and walked you to the door of your apartment, kissed your cheek goodnight, waited until you were safely inside your house before he got back into his car, and drove home. He was determined to make you his.

A few months later, after some careful planning and preparation, Hizashi got time off to help you through your upcoming heat. The two of you planned to meet up at the apartment that the two of you moved into about a month ago with the help of Hizashi’s boss in the Yakuza. He was finishing up his shift at the radio station. As he left the station, he shot you a text saying that he was on the way home. that you ignored in your feverish state as you pumped your scent into your apartment. You whimpered and wanted him to come and give you relief from the ache that throbbed down in your pants. You had already made a nest and hid under the fluffy blanket that he had bought you for nesting purposes. You clung to one of his shirts that you stole from his dresser and took in the citrusy scent that calmed you a bit. You heard the door unlock and open. You winced away from the noise as you were unaware of who had just entered your home. You heard the bedroom door creak open and you hid even more. You were scared to look up but the scent of oranges, lemons, and leather wafted down to you which made you look up to see your boyfriend staring down at you. You whimpered and made grabby hands at him. He picked you up and slid into your nest. You whined and he kissed you deeply.

“I’m here baby girl. You’re safe now. I’m going to take care of you and make you mine.” He told you. You moaned out and nodded. He started off by moving down to your neck and marking you. You cried out and panted. He pulled back and unbuttoned his shirt to reveal his bare chest that was covered with tattoos. You blushed while staring at the intricate patterns of his tattoos. He pulled your hands up to his chest and let you touch. He kissed one of your hands and activated his quirk to hum against them. You gasped and he smirked. He put his arms above your head and kissed you deeply and moving down to your neck and biting again but this time his quirk was put into use. You let out a string of mewls and moans that sent him reeling into his need to stuff you full of his litter. He groaned and tossed his shirt out of the nest and swiftly removed your clothes from your body while covering your neck with kisses and small bites. He held your hips still while he sucked another mark into your collarbone. You let out a pleasurable noise when he licked the sensitive bite.

“You’re mine now, princess. No one is gonna change that.” He told you with a deep rumble in his chest that made you melt in his arms. You nodded and made eye contact with him which was hard as you felt like you were higher than a kite with your heat taking over your body. Hizashi pulled back and stared down at you. You whined and reached up for him and he pulled you up to sit in his lap. You pressed your face into his neck to take in his scent as he was emitting to try and cover yours so the two of you wouldn’t get unwanted visitors busting the door down. He then kissed you gently and slid his hand under the hem of your shorts. You straddled his lap and leaned against him. You took deep breaths and nuzzled the crook of his neck to find some comfort. Hizashi rubbed your back soothingly and gripped your butt as well. You whimpered and shifted a bit in his lap to give yourself some friction on his thigh. He noticed this and pushed you back down on your back. He kissed you again and left a trail of kisses down your body until he stopped right above your private area. You looked at him in annoyance as he had stopped. He looked back at you and spoke.

“Do you really want this? You want to have my litter?” He asked you and you nodded in agreement. He proceeded to move his head in between your thighs and suck the slick from your entrance. This made you feel good. He then activated his quirk on your entrance and it made you see stars. You let out a moan, arched your back and released on his face. He licked up the mess that you had made and looked up at you as you came down from your orgasm. You looked at him while you regained your breath. He sat up between your legs and kissed the inside of one of your thighs. He undid the belt on his pants and unzipped his leather trousers and pulled them off and tossed them in the same direction of his shirt. You blushed harder and looked back at him at the various tattoos that covered his torso and other parts of his body. You followed the snake that roped around his torso and thigh before it disappeared to the other side of his body. You also saw the various birds and feathers on his body, along with a dragon that roped around his right arm. You also noticed a small orca tattoo on his hand which signified the gang he belonged to. You watched him support himself above you by propping his hands on the pillows above you. His hair fell around his face when he looked down at you. He kissed you deeply to keep you distracted as he slid his pierced cock into you. He stopped right before his knot would go in. He didn’t want to tear your hole so he proceeded to press slightly with his knot against your entrance which made you cry out with pleasure. You panted with the feeling that the piercings made inside of you. His knot pressed against your entrance and threatened to rip you in half. You mewled in need and he pressed the knot into you. You moaned out again as you felt the knot pop into your wet hole. He stayed still for a bit until you whined for him to move inside of you and fill you with his seed. He began to thrust slowly and work up to a steady rhythm. He attached his mouth to your neck and hummed as he left another hickey on the sensitive flesh. You moved your hips with him and felt the tightness in your stomach build up and soon pop as you both reach your climax. He released and tried to pull out but he was stuck as his knot was still swollen inside of you. You blushed and looked down at him.

“Don’t stop.” You panted out. He nodded and took a drink of water before going back to thrusting inside of you until the both of you were spent. He then pulled out of you and cleaned the both of you up. He kissed your cheek and laid down next to you, tired. He brushed his thumb on your cheek and made you look at him. He pulled you close to him and kissed your forehead.

“You did amazing baby girl. I love you so much. Rest now. I’ll keep you safe.” He spoke into your hair before kissing your head and held you close as you both drifted off into sleep.

The next morning you woke up to find him gone but there was a sweet little note next to you. It read:

Morning Baby girl,

I’m sorry to not be there when you wake up but I have an early shift at the radio station. I’ll bring home your favorite dinner and we can cuddle tonight.

Love you,

Hizashi.

You finished reading the note and set it back on the pillow. You stood up gingerly as you were still sore from yesterday. You smiled and gently stood up to walk to the bathroom when you came out, you decided to change into something cute yet comfortable. You flopped onto the couch and turned on the tv as the news came up. Hizashi always kept the news on as he needed to keep up with the going ons of the fragile hero society. The world was in a near state of chaos with all the different gangs of the Yakuza going to war with each other almost on a daily basis. You were watching the tv until a new report broke in. One of the tv reporters spoke:

Breaking news: We have yet another report to add to the slew of attacks this month, this comes just days after we broadcast rumors of villains running rampant over the city. This spate of attacks has put the entire country of Japan at a standstill, road closures and damaged property making it difficult for commuters to get to work in the morning. Road maintenance endeavor to do its best to keep the city running, but it seems futile when these attacks continue to increase. The entire city was brought to a standstill by the mysterious villains who have still not been named, but reports show they are nothing like we have ever experienced before.

Where are the heroes now? Who will save us from the terror overwhelming our city?

Every day the crime toll continues to rise and we have no one here to protect us. The Hero Public Safety Commission assured us earlier in the week that the crime rate would go down, that the top Heroes are out there protecting our city, but if so, where are they? Is it really safe to go out anymore, who can we trust? Would you put your life in the hands of a Hero today? When they have proved our streets are no longer safe. We still have no information on what is going on, or who is involved but we must remain observant. We will continue to report the latest news as we receive it, but for now, we must implore you to heed the warnings of the city-wide curfew that is soon to be implemented. If anyone has any information on these occurrences in the cities, please send them to us or contact the police, you can remain anonymous. The safety of our citizens is what is most important, stay vigilant and don’t go out unless it is absolutely necessary.

One thing we know for sure: we can no longer rely on Heroes to protect us. The streets of our once-great city are no longer safe, we are no longer safe.

You stared at the screen with wide eyes as you saw the images of a giant duel that had broken out between the Yakuza, the League of Villains, and the vigilantes that were once heroes. You scanned the crowd of people for the blonde hair of your boyfriend and you got nervous as you didn’t see him. Your phone rang and you looked at the caller i.d. and your heart raced as it was Hizashi. You quickly answered.

“What’s going on!? I saw what happened on the news. Where are you? Are you ok?” You frantically spoke into the phone.

“I’m fine. I need you to pack a bag. It’s not safe for you there anymore. We’re moving into the HQ tonight. The boss said that we can have a couple people from the outside move in when things got bad. I’ll be there in a bit to pick you up.” He told you. You nodded and ran into your room and pulled out your suitcase. You hurriedly packed your essentials and some of your comfort items that you would need for a nest when you got to the headquarters. You heard your front door unlock and open. You reminded yourself that you gave Hizashi a key to the apartment when he moved in with you. He called out for you and you peeked out from your bedroom. You relaxed when you saw your mate and you ran out to hug him as you were scared. You looked up and saw that he was hurt.

“Hizashi! You’re bleeding.” You pointed out. He shrugged it aside.

“It’s just a scratch.” He told you. You frowned and wiped some of the blood that had come from his forehead. You showed him and he shrugged it off.

“You can clean me up when we get to the safehouse.” He told you. He knelt down and looked you in the eyes.

“I’m here, baby girl. It’s gonna be ok. Did you pack a bag?” He asked you. You nodded your head and he rubbed your back. He held your hand and led out of the apartment and into the street where there was a group of panicked people rushing to leave the city. You whimpered in fear as you clung to the arm of your mate. Hizashi noticed this and pulled you into the alleyway

“Hey, what’s wrong? You’re emitting your stressed scent.” He spoke.

“I’m scared.” You managed to say. He nodded and pulled you close so he could hold you.

“We can wait here for transportation. It’s ok. There’s a lot of people trying to get home or leave the city. I just need to tell the others the change in plans.” He told you and pulled you deeper into the dark alleyway. He had you sit on your suitcase as the two of you might have to wait a bit. You kicked your feet and looked at the ground as you held your stuffed animal as Hizashi pulled his phone out and called his friend.

“Where are you? You were supposed to be here a few minutes ago.” You heard a tired and annoyed voice sound from the other side of the line. You thought it was Aizawa from the café.

“I had to pick up Y/N, remember?” Hizashi responded.

“Right. Your little omega mate. Where are the two of you?”

“We’re in an alleyway a few blocks south of the original meet up place. Y/N got stressed with the crowd of people panicking. She was emitting her stressed scent and I didn’t want some random alpha to snatch her up and cause a scene.” Hizashi explained as he petted your head. You let out a happy noise and nuzzled into his hand.

“Any other landmarks that can help with your location?”

���There’s a motel and a sketchy Italian restaurant.” Hizashi spoke as someone came down the alleyway.

“What’s that sweet scent I’m smelling!?” A stranger called out from the entrance of the alleyway. Hizashi hung up and stepped in front of you. He emitted his citrusy scent to cover up yours.

“It’s nothing. Probably coming from the motel next to us.” Hizashi told the stranger calmly. You whimpered and squeezed your stuffed animal closer to your body. The stranger grinned evilly and stepped closer. Hizashi blocked his path and sight of you. The stranger frowned.

“You’re her mate? Aren’t you one of those members of the Yakuza that have caused this world to go into chaos? She deserves better than some mafia scum like you.” The stranger told him and he frowned. You knew what was gonna happen so you covered your ears and shut your eyes tightly. Hizashi stood ready to fight this person to keep you safe. He stared down the stranger and spoke again.

“You’re right. I am a member of the Yakuza. But I’m not a lowlife scumbag hunting down some innocent just because their scent is emitting. Not every scent of a person that goes through a heat is their heat scent either. Y/N is stressed. She emits a scent when that happens. That is normal. Now, I suggest you leave before things get worse.” He explained to the stranger as he rolled up his sleeves and pulled out a small knife that he always kept on him whenever he was out.

He would do anything to keep you safe. Even if it meant he had to kill this person.

The stranger saw the knife and immediately left the alleyway. Hizashi put the knife away and walked over to you. He put a hand on your trembling frame.

“Baby girl, you’re safe now. That bad guy is gone now. You can open your pretty eyes for me.” He coaxed you. You opened your eyes and he smiled.

“There you are, princess.” He told you and kissed your forehead as a smoky purple portal opened behind the two of you. Two familiar faces came through the portal. You recognized them as Aizawa and Kurogiri from the café that you met Hizashi at for the first time. You got off your suitcase but didn’t wander far and held onto Hizashi’s arm. You watched the men in front of you closely as they talked with Hizashi about the events that led up to them meeting in the alleyway. The man that was talking to Hizashi over the phone was Aizawa. Your eyes wandered to the man with purple smoke that hid his natural features and you recognized him as well. You gripped your boyfriend’s shirt and pressed your face into his back and nuzzled a bit. Hizashi noticed and turned to face you. He had a look of concern on his face as he knew that you had been through a lot today. He knelt down to your level and pressed his forehead to yours.

“Shhh. Its ok, baby girl. Just a few more minutes and we will be safe. You can nest all you’d like when we’re in my room at headquarters, ok?” he told you. You made eye contact with him and saw the intense look of concern in his eyes. Your gaze wandered to the two men who were looking around and shifting nervously.

“Hizashi, we need to leave.” Aizawa told his friend.

“Just a moment, Shouta.” Hizashi told him in a firm tone.

“Now, Hizashi.” Aizawa responded with the same firm tone as the sound of a panicked mob came from the main street. You clung to your mate tighter before Hizashi scooped you up and pulled your suitcase into the open portal. You hid your face and closed your eyes. He held you tighter to his chest and walked through the portal with a determined look on his face. Once the two of you were on the other side, you looked up to take in your new surroundings. Hizashi and the others stopped in front of a large iron gate you pulled away from Hizashi and looked at the design work in the metal. There was a long iron fence that towered over the four of you. At the top in the center was a crest of the clan. You looked to either side of the fence and saw that it was attached to a very tall brick wall. Aizawa walked up to a speaker and spoke into it. The gate was unlocked and the four of you walked through the gate. You pressed into Hizashi and he rubbed your back.

“Almost there, princess. Just a little longer.” He whispered into your hair as the three of you walked up the long path and into the mansion that seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. When your small group arrived at the very large doors, you looked up at them in amazement. The doors opened and you all stepped through. A couple of larger guards made sure that the four of you weren’t imposters. One of them asked about you and Hizashi quickly told them who you were before walking to his room. The man he had called Shouta stopped him by placing a hand on his shoulder.

“You still need to meet with the Boss, Hizashi. I’m sure he will be fine with meeting Y/N. At least go get cleaned up.” He told him

“Fine. But I want Y/N safe. She’s been through enough today.” He said as he shoved his friend’s hand off his shoulder and kept walking to the barracks of the place.

You clung to him and tightened your grip around his neck. He arrived at his door and opened it. He went inside with you still attached to him. He closed the door behind him. He took his backpack off and set it next to your suitcase. He then knelt down while supporting you and unzipped your suitcase. He pulled your soft comfort blanket that he would find you swaddled in while you took naps back in the apartment. He moved to the bed and sat on the bed with his back to the wall and wrapped the blanket around you and rubbed your back. You hummed and pulled away to look up at him.

“There you are, baby girl.” He said in a soothing tone that usually grounded you when you were stressed. You cooed and looked around the room.

“Is this your room?” You asked him as he walked into his personal bathroom to take care of the cuts and scrapes that he had taken during the fight that occurred earlier in the day. He looked back out of the bathroom to see you looking at the different things in his room. You always looked cute to him when you were exploring something new. You slid off the bed with the blanket wrapped around you. You walked around the room, looked at the record player, and his assortment of records. You were reading the titles as he came out of the bathroom to put on a fresh shirt from his closet before looking over to you and smiling softly.

“We can play some later. We need to go meet the boss.” He told you and you huffed as you wanted to make a nest. He looked at you with an ‘I’m sorry.’ look in his eyes, you set your blanket down on the bed, walked over to him, and pressed your head into his chest. You tensed up when there was a knock on the door. Hizashi pulled away and went to answer the door.

“Who is it?” He asked.

“Yamada, you’ve been summoned by the Boss. He wants you to come to the dining hall with your mate. He’s a bit upset that you didn’t come when you first arrived.” Someone said from the other side of the door. Hizashi groaned.

“Tell him we will be there in a few minutes.” He responded and the person left. Hizashi turned to you and walked back over.

“Are you gonna be able to come with me to meet the Boss?” He asked you. You nodded and he held your hand as the both of you went to the door. You paused to whimper and reach up for him to pick you up. He picked you up and held you for a moment.

“I’ll cuddle with you for as long as you want after we talk to the Boss. But I need to keep an image up around the others. Don’t want them to think I’ve gone soft just because I have a mate.” He told you and you huffed and pressed your face into his neck. He chuckled and set you back down hesitantly. Hizashi then opened the door and led you downstairs and to the dinner hall. The two of you walked past many doors that belonged to different people. You read the names as the two of you walked past and noticed a couple familiar names before the two of you stopped at a larger door. You were nervous and clung to his arm. He looked down to you and knelt down to your level again.

“Princess. You’ll be fine. They might seem intimidating but they’re actually pretty nice.” He reassured you. You nodded and rubbed your arms to self soothe as you were still nervous. You had read about how some people of the Yakuza were big and scary. You held onto his hand and stared at the big scary door. Hizashi allowed you to hold onto his hand and he opened the door.

Inside the room was a table surrounded by various Pro Heroes. You looked around the room and recognized each one of them. Going in a circle, you recognized Aizawa and Kurogiri from before, Best Jeanist, All Might, Endeavor, Hawks, Snipe, Cementoss, Fatgum, Ectoplasm, and at the head was Gang Orca. You looked over at to another part of the room and saw a few of the ladies at the bar and behind the bar. You saw a few kids that looked like students as well sitting in a lounge corner playing a game of cards. Some of the ladies that you saw you recognized as Mirko, Midnight, Mt. Lady, Thirteen, Ryuko, Recovery Girl, and Lunch Rush. The students you remember from a long time ago during one of the UA Sport’s festival. You saw Deku, Dynamite, Shoto, and the rest of the class there. You gasped and slipped behind Hizashi as you were scared from all the new people. Endeavor chuckled and looked at you.

“You have quite the shy omega there, Mic. Wanna share?” He suggested. Hizashi glared at him and growled. Gang Orca silenced Endeavor and had him leave the room. He then returned his focus to Hizashi.

“Why did you not come when you first arrived with Eraserhead and Kurogiri?” He asked. Hizashi tensed up a bit and spoke.

“I wanted to get my mate settled. I am sorry I didn’t come when first summoned.” He responded. Gang Orca tilted his head in agreement and let the matter pass.

“Can we meet your mate?” Gang Orca spoke. You peeked out from behind Hizashi and looked at the boss.

“If she’s ok with meeting all of you.” Hizashi told him and coaxed you out from behind him. You clung to him like a scared child hiding behind their mother. Gang Orca and the other members that were sitting around the table were patient as you eventually approached the table with Hizashi right behind you. You looked up at the Orca hybrid and stared at him with amazement.

“I’m Y/N. What’s yours?” You asked him.

“Sakamata Kugo.” He spoke and looked down at your tiny frame. You smiled and pressed into Hizashi. He looked down at you and smiled. Gang Orca then dismissed the both of you and Hizashi picked you up and carried you swiftly out of the dining hall and back to his room to let you relax and get used to your surroundings. He set you on the bed which you spread out on your fluffy blanket that you managed to bring from your apartment. You let out a squeak of happiness and purred into the blanket as you sunk into it. You relaxed as your boyfriend laid out next to you and wrapped his arms around you. He kissed you on the head and you pressed into his chest to take in his scent to calm you down from all that had happened today.

“Hizashi? What are going to do now? Will we ever be able to go back to the apartment?” You asked worriedly.

“I don’t know, princess. Not with the city getting divided up and all the chaos ensuing in the streets.” He told you. You remembered about his cuts and scrapes he had and you looked to him you sat up and checked his head to see his bandages that he had already applied. You huffed and nudged him. He looked at you and asked what was wrong.

“You said that I could help you with your cuts and scrapes.” You told him.

“I only did the one on my head. I have a few others on my chest and arms you can take care of.” He told you with a smile.

You beamed with happiness that you could help your alpha. You ran into the bathroom, retrived the first aid kit that was left on the counter, and proceeded to carry it back to the bed. Hizashi was already sitting on the bed with his shirt off for you to examine him better. You climbed onto the bed next to him and wrapped up the minor cuts on his arms and the slice he had on his chest. Your face flushed a bright red as you wrapped the gauze around his chest. After you were finished putting the first aid materials away, Hizashi pulled you into his lap and let you lean into his chest.

“Do I get a reward for being a good patient?” He teased.

“Well… You did make me wait to take care of you.” You told him.

“I know I did. I still let you patch me up.” He responded.

“Thank you for letting me do that.” You told him and he kissed you deeply as he pressed you against the blankets.

“I know you’re still in heat, princess. Let me help you.” He told you. You blushed hard and looked to the door.

“You want me to lock the door?” He asked. You nodded, he got up and secured the door. He wanted you safe from anyone that would dare come in and try to take you from him. You waited for him to come back to the bed.

“Want nest.” You told him. He looked at you and nodded. He picked you up and placed you on a carpet on the floor. You looked up to watch him strip the bed. You then stared at the blankets on the floor and you crawled over to them. You burrowed into them and relaxed as you were now surrounded by comforting things. Hizashi then looked around for you and got a little worried.

“Y/N? Where did you go, princess?” He called out. You giggled and peeked out of your hiding spot in the blankets. He found you and picked you up and set you on the bed.

“There you are.” He said and peeked into the blankets.

“I would let you nest in my closet but there’s not a lot of room. You’re going to have to nest on my bed, baby girl.” He told you. You huffed and nodded.

“What about in the corner next to the sliding doors?” You asked and nodded to the corner that had a chair in it.

“That can work too. You can use one of my spare sheets for a tent.” He suggested. You nodded and dragged his blankets to the corner. You looked back at him with a silent request for him to move the chair out of the corner. He walked over and pulled the chair out of the corner and let you nest. He sat down in the chair and watched you make your nest. You laid out the huge fluffy blanket on the floor to line the nest before you walked over to the bed and pulled the large pillows off the bed and made a circle nest that was wedged into the corner. You put pillows against the wall to pad yourself before building a wall out of the couch cushions. Hizashi had a small table with four chairs around it and you pulled two of them to the corner to hold the pillows up so they wouldn’t fall over. You made a kind of pathway so the both of you could get in and out of the nest easily. You built up the walls of your nest so you felt safer. Hizashi went to his linen closet and pulled out the spare pillows and blankets. There was a knock at the door and Hizashi set the spare sheets on the bed before walking to the door and answering it. Someone had left the key to the giant linen closet for them to use.

“Princess, someone left us the key to the giant closet downstairs. What do you need for the nest?” He asked. You perked up and looked at him from the back of the room.

“Um… More pillows and blankets. We can use the sheet from your closet for the tent. Unless you can find a blackout sheet then that would be better.” You requested. He nodded and left the room while closing the door behind him. You proceeded to nest more and add the blankets and sheets to the wall of your nest before Hizashi came back with several pillows. You looked up at him and reached out for the bedding materials to add them to your nest. He gave you the blankets and you let out a happy noise. He held back a large black sheet to hang up when you were done. He watched you rearrange the blankets and pillows until you sat in the middle and looked up at him and smiled.

“Ready for the tent now.” You told him.

“You need to get out for a moment, princess.” He told you and you huffed. You grabbed your fluffy blanket, wrapped it around yourself, and left the nest. You stood outside the nest and watched your mate attach the sheet to the ceiling and secure it with some thumbtacks that he had found. Once the sheet was set up, he stepped out of the nest to let you back in and to situate the sheet how you wanted. Once you got the sheet set up so you felt safe but still had access to peek out when you wanted to. You finished getting settled and poked your head out to look at Hizashi. He chuckled and watched you from the chair he was sitting in.

“You may come in now.” You told him and disappeared into your nest. Hizashi slid down from his seat and crawled into the nest with you. He looked around and checked out your tent.

“This is nice.” He told you and saw your cubby holes that you had built into the nest and were still working on. You had found a wall plug in and had set up your phone on the charger. You also managed to grab your set of fairy lights and add them into the nest for a soothing effect. Hizashi looked up at the lights and chuckled.

“What all did you manage to pack in your suitcase?” He asked you as he looked over at you.

“Enough.” You told him. He sat up in your nest and leaned against the wall. You looked at him and tilted your head cutely.

“Cuddles?” You asked. He nodded which made you squeal in delight and crawl over to him and climb into his lap. You laid on his chest and let out a sigh of relief as he pulled a blanket over the two of you. You let out a happy hum and nuzzled his chest. You traced the scales of his snake tattoo and counted as you traced them. He held you close and stroked your hair to help you relax and eventually fall asleep. He let you sleep on him and he eventually fell asleep as well. A few hours later you woke up and looked up at him.

“Hi, baby girl. Did you sleep ok?” He asked. You cooed and nodded. You nuzzled his hand. He cupped your cheek and kissed your forehead. You laid back on his chest with your head tucked into the crook of his neck. You looked up when his phone buzzed. Hizashi checked his phone and rubbed your back.

“We’re being summoned to dinner.” He told you.

“Do we have to?” You asked as you were cozy where you were.

“Yes, we do, princess. It’s required when we’re at the safehouse.” He told you.

“Do I have to come?” You asked.

“Only if you want to. They understand that you’re pretty tired. You’re also still in heat. I would feel better if you stayed here instead of taking the risk of having your scent leak out to the others. Most of them are Alphas. As you saw earlier, Endeavor is someone who is more likely bang as many omegas as he can rather than have one mate all to himself.” Hizashi explained. He wanted to keep you safe from the other Alpha.

“I understand. What’s for dinner?” You asked.

“Whatever you want. Lunch Rush can make anything you want.” He told you.

“Mac and cheese with chicken nuggets.” You requested. He smiled and kissed your head.

“Ok. I’ll be right back.” He told you, shifted you off of him and he crawled out of the nest. You laid on your side and wrapped up in your blanket and waited for him to return. Hizashi walked down to the dinner hall and entered. The others looked up when he came in. “Y/N resting?” Aizawa asked him. Hizashi nodded. The blonde looked over to Endeavor before going over to Lunch Rush and putting in the order for your mac and cheese and chicken nuggets. He also ordered some fried chicken for himself. While he waited, Endeavor got up and walked to the door. Hizashi got anxious and wanted to get back to you before Endeavor did. Aizawa got up and followed Endeavor out of the room. Lunch Rush gave Hizashi his order.

“I’m sorry that I can’t stay. Y/N needs me tonight. I’ll be here in the morning for breakfast, Kugo.” He told the boss. Gang Orca nodded in understanding and Hizashi left the room quickly so he could get back to you. He saw Endeavor go up the stairs. This pissed him off. He knew for a fact that Endeavor’s room was on the bottom floor. Hizashi quickened his pace and ran upstairs after the other former hero. Hizashi set the food down and stopped him.

“Don’t you even think about going after her. She’s mine, you scumbag. I know that times are rough right now but you don’t need to go around stealing other people’s mates.” Hizashi spoke in a firm tone and didn’t raise his voice much. Endeavor turned to face him with a smug grin plastered on his face that Hizashi wanted to wipe off with a right hook to his face.

“Yes, but you left your Omega alone. That’s a bad thing to do.” He said with a sneer as he turned to his door. Hizashi set the food down and approached the man as he was ready to fight the tall and muscular man so he could keep you as his own. “Back off.” The blonde spoke in a tone that was almost growling. Endeavor had a smug look on his face as he wasn’t going to back off. Aizawa, Kurogiri, All Might, and Gang Orca all came up the stairs. Gang Orca stepped forward.

“Enji, back off. Y/N is Hizashi’s mate. She is not yours for the taking just because Present Mic left the room to get food for himself and his mate. That is perfectly normal.” The Orca hybrid spoke. The fiery redhead pouted and walked back to his room. Aizawa walked up to his friend and asked if he was ok. Hizashi nodded and took a couple deep breaths and made a mental note to talk with Endeavor later before walking back to pick the food back up and re-enter the room. He closed and locked the door behind him before he walked to the far end of the room to the nest. He bent over to peek into the nest to see if you were still there and you were. You were sitting up while playing a game on your phone. You looked up from your screen and saw Hizashi. You squealed and set your device aside and laid down.

“I got your food, baby girl.” He told you as he got down on his stomach to look at you. You reached out for the food and he slid it to you.

“May I come in?” He asked. You nodded and moved out of the way so he could slide into the nest. He pulled his food in the nest, closed the door behind him, and leaned against the wall. He let out a stressed sigh and emitted a sour lemon scent which made your nose wrinkle.

“Hizashi, what’s wrong?” You asked.

“Endeavor tried to take you from me and I hate that he does that even though I just left to get us food.” He told you while he rubbed his temples. You climbed into his lap cuddled him and emitted your calming scent that would usually be meant for your pups. He hummed and pressed his face into your neck so he could take your scent in. You nuzzled his neck and felt him relax as he held you to his chest and gripped your waist. You squeaked and wiggled your hips.

“Baby girl, I want to claim you as my own. Make you mine forever. I don’t want the threat of someone wanting to take you from me. It took so long for me to find someone like you that was accepting of me being in the Yakuza. I love you, Y/N. I want to make you mine. I don’t want Endeavor or any other Alpha to even get the idea of taking you from me. Please, let me claim you.” Hizashi requested of you. You pulled back and looked at him. Hizashi never had a more serious look on his face as he was desperate to make you his own. Endeavor had really threatened him earlier and he was scared to lose you. He pressed his face into your neck as he was awaiting your answer. “You know that I’m your mate. I thought you claimed me yesterday in the apartment?” You asked.

“I did, but not as intensely as I want to right now.” He told you as he softly bit on your neck. You let out a little moan and he sucked a little harder. You were grinding hips against his thighs and moaned a little louder. You pushed away from him a bit to look at him. He looked up at you with a hungry and lustful look in his eyes.

“I would be happy to be your mate forever.” You told him. He responded by kissing you deeply, moving the food up to the seat of one of the chairs, and laying you down on the floor of the nest. He pulled away for air before going down on your neck to suck in a bonding mark into the flesh of your neck. You cried out in pleasure as he used his quirk to enhance the feeling of his mark being embedded into your skin. He pulled back and looked at the mark.

“You’re mine now. Mine forever and always.” He told you while keeping eye contact with you. You let out a moan as he pulled your clothes off and left more quirk-enhanced bites on your body. He was determined to make it known that you were his and that no other Alphas would take you from him. He moved your pants off and kissed your soft tummy before kissing your thighs.

“Are you ready, princess?” He asked as he hovered over the lower part of your torso, ready to eat you out before stuffing your womb full of his litter. You looked down to see his lust filled look gazing back at you. You felt your body heat up and your slick leak out from your entrance. You bucked your hips up against him as you were eager to mate with him. He smiled and went down on your slick hole and began to eat you out. He used his skilled tongue and mouth skills to suck the slick off of your wet hole as your heat raged through your body. You released a string of mewls and moans that drove your Alpha crazy as he sucked more and used his quirk on your oversensitive folds. The usage of his quirk caused you to go over the edge and release on his face. He cleaned you up using his tongue before sitting up, pulling your legs wide open, bending them so your knees almost touched your chest, and positioning himself between your legs as he was ready to fuck you into next week. He pulled his pants down and lined up his hard and swollen member to your wet entrance. He pressed the head into your opening and you let out a small moan. He smirked and pushed more into you until his full length was inside of you including his knot. You panted as he filled and stretched you perfectly. He waited a couple of moments before thrusting into you at a steady pace. He looked up at you as you had your head thrown back as he pounded into you. He soon reached his first climax and released into you. The both of you took a moment to regain your breath before Hizashi began to thrust again and again into you as he was full of determination to breed you until you were pregnant. He pulled out and laid next to you as he was spent. He kissed your temple and had you go to the bathroom as he waited for you. You crawled out slowly and waddled a bit as you walked to the bathroom to get cleaned up. You came back and slid back into the nest. He gave you your food before he sat up and ate his own food. You crawled into his lap and ate your chicken nuggets happily. He stroked your hair and relaxed.

“I love you, Hizashi.” You cooed.

“I love you too, Princess.” He responded. You finished your food and dozed off in his lap. Hizashi had one more thing to do before he could be sure that you would be safe. He picked up his phone and messaged Endeavor.

‘Hi! I was wondering if you’d like to do the nightly patrol with me tonight.’

‘Sure. This is a bit odd as you prefer to do patrol with Eraserhead or Kurogiri. Why do you want to patrol with me?’

‘Oh, just changing things up in case we were being watched. Shaking up the patterns.’

‘Fine. Our shift starts at midnight. Meet at the gate.’ Endeavor responded. Hizashi had a plan set out in his mind to make sure his mate would be safe no matter what. Soon midnight came and Hizashi had left the nest and your sleeping form to get changed into his modified hero suit. He sheathed his knives that he used when he went on patrol and went to the door to put his shoes on. He then left the building to walk to the front gate and meet Endeavor. He greeted Hizashi and they began to patrol along the wall that surrounded the perimeter of the estate. The place was huge so the time to patrol the place took a long time. Most of the estate was covered by woods and forest so there would be a higher chance of people breaking in even though there were security cameras all around the wall of the estate. Hizashi would have to wait until the two of them reached a blind spot in the cameras before he would make a move. In the security room, Kurogiri was observing the cameras and making sure the footage would be ‘Mysteriously compromised’ of Endeavor’s disappearance. Endeavor was the one thing keeping you from being safe. He was a threat to Hizashi and he had to be removed so that you could be safe. Soon the both of the heroes came to a stopping point to rest which was conveniently in a camera’s blind spot. Hizashi stepped away for a moment with the excuse that ‘he was checking deeper into the woods for any intruders’ which brought Endeavor’s guard down and he began to scroll through his phone. Hizashi pulled out a knife and slowly stepped out of the shadows. A twig snapped under Hizashi’s heavy boot which made the other man look up from his phone and stare at the blonde with wide eyes that were full of fear.

“Yamada, what are you doing?” The scared man asked as his eyes darted to the open blade in Hizashi’s hand. The blonde remained silent and walked forward to the man. He moved the blade of the knife under his chin and made the other man look up at him.

“I’m sure you know why I brought you out here unless you really are that dumb.” He spoke. Endeavor began to panic as he stared down his attacker.

“I thought we were going to do patrol around the wall then go back to the mansion.” He said in a confused tone. Hizashi stepped back and laughed. Endeavor looked at the crazed man before him.

“You really aren’t that smart are you, Enji?” He said as he turned his gaze back to the other Alpha. He walked back over and pressed the blade to Endeavor’s neck.

“Since you can’t seem to clue in on a situation, I’ll tell you what’s going to happen, ya dig, listener?” He spoke using his old phrase from his pro hero days before he fully committed to the Yakuza. The scent of fear was emitting strongly from Endeavor as he watched Hizashi show his true colors.

“Your confrontation to threaten me by taking my mate just because I left them for a few moments to get us food was a wrong move on your part, Enji. Now you’re going to pay for what you did and I’ll make sure you never threaten to steal another Alpha’s mate again.” Hizashi told him and knocked the man out with some chloroform in a small cloth that Hizashi had pressed to his mouth and nose while Hizashi told him what was going to happen. He dragged Endeavor’s body into the middle of the woods to a small wooden cabin that he had built out there when he first was recruited into Gang Orca’s family. He would go out there to spend his ruts when he was younger. He hadn’t been to his cabin in a few years since he started the radio talk show. He didn’t like the bugs that were around the place but the seclusion was convenient for him this time as he was going to remove Endeavor from the scene to ensure your safety. Hizashi unlocked the door and dragged Endeavor’s unconscious body into the cabin before locking the door behind him. He set Endeavor’s body up in a chair and made sure to tie him up before he sat down to wait for him to wake up. He sat down on the old bed that he would sleep on and texted Kurogiri about the update and that he could sabotage the footage of him and Endeavor walking along the wall.

About an hour passed before Endeavor woke up. Hizashi noticed him stirring and waited for him to come to full consciousness.

“Glad you’re finally awake, Enji. Took you long enough.” Hizashi told him.

“Where are we? Why did you bring me here? What did you mean by making me pay for threatening you?” The enraged man asked.

“All you need to know now is that you messed up big time. I’m going to make you pay for threatening to take my love from me.” Hizashi spoke as he stood up and walked over to Endeavor. He held the same knife he had earlier spinning around in his fingers. The blonde held the knife still and ran the handle up Endeavor’s chest.

“No wonder the ladies go crazy over you. You’re built like a tank.” He noted and then used the blade to slice open his modified suit. The blade nicked his skin a bit and the blonde smirked. He teased other parts of Endeavor’s bare chest with the blade of his knife and pressed the cold metal into his skin a bit until he bled.

“You’re gonna die, Enji. You have stolen enough Omegas from everyone It’s time you were removed. Threatening me was the last straw. Kugo gave me permission to take the means necessary to make sure you’re disposed of.” Hizashi told the clearly frightened man.

“I’m sorry for what I’ve done. I will change.” Endeavor tried to plead. Hizashi chuckled and looked back at him.

“Sorry isn’t gonna cut it. Your life ends tonight.” He said and made another small cut on his chest. Endeavor hissed and tried to move away.

“Now I can make this look like an accident or make it look like you were murdered. It’s how you behave is how it’s gonna look. So, I suggest that you better behave.” Hizashi warned. Endeavor didn’t believe him and tried to activate his flames. For some reason he couldn’t. Hizashi looked across the room to his friend and accomplice, Shouta Aizawa. He was using his quirk to cancel out Endeavor’s flames. Hizashi came closer to Endeavor and ran the blade across his cheek which made more blood leak out. The blonde hummed and made another cut but this time ran the blade across his collarbone. Endeavor hissed again in pain and the former hero pressed the blade to his neck.

“Do you want your throat to be slit? It does seem fitting for someone like you to die by your throat being cut so no one can hear you scream out in pain. What do you think Shou?” He asked his friend who was still hiding in the shadows of the cabin. Endeavor had a terrified look imprinted on his face as Shouta gave his opinion that the man before them needed a few more stab wounds and cuts before he was killed.

“You’re right. Gotta make it look real. Like he actually struggled before he died.” Hizashi noted before proceeding to gag Endeavor’s mouth so his screams of pain wouldn’t be heard. He then drove the blade of his knife deep into Endeavor’s body. Blood splattered onto the blonde as Endeavor was stabbed.

“Making quite the mess there, Enji. I’m going to have to clean this up before I return to Y/N.” Hizashi said as the former hero lay in front of him bleeding out.

“And now for the finishing touch.” Hizashi said as he ran the blade deep into the hero’s neck and watched as the blood spilled from his neck and the life left his body. Hizashi stepped back and took a picture with his phone before He motioned to Shouta to help him untie the corpse and carry it outside where Kurogiri was standing waiting for them to come out. Kurogiri had already dug the grave for Endeavor. Hizashi and Shouta carried the body and placed it into the hole and began to bury Endeavor’s corpse. When all the dirt was replaced and his body was finally buried, Hizashi panted then smiled wide.

“Y/N is finally safe.” He said under his breath. Shouta looked up at his friend and asked what he had said.

“Y/N is finally safe and she won’t ever be threatened to be taken from me again.” He spoke. Shouta smiled.

“You should go get cleaned up and go back to her. Kurogiri and I got this covered.” He suggested. Hizashi nodded and Kurogiri opened a warp gate for him to go back to his room.

Hizashi snuck into his room to make sure not to disturb you. He slipped into his bathroom and stripped down to shower off the blood, sweat and dirt that had covered his body. He turned on the shower and stepped in to clean himself off. He finished and got changed into a pair of sweatpants and slid back into the nest with you. You woke up a little and looked at him.

“Hizashi? Where did you go? It’s the middle of the night.” You said quietly.

“I had a late-night task that the boss wanted me to do.” He told you. You took the information even though you were grumpy and tired and you desperately wanted cuddles.

“Next time tell me when you’re gonna leave in the middle of the night instead of just leaving, ok? Also, you smell good. Did you shower?” You asked.

“Yes. I got dirty and smelly on the job. So, I got cleaned up just for you princess.” He told you and kissed you.

“Go back to sleep, I’m here and I’m going to keep you safe.” He told you and pulled you close to him. You hummed and nuzzled into his bare chest as he pulled a blanket back over you and kissed your head. You were safe now. Safe and his. His and his alone.

The next morning you woke up and nuzzled your Alpha awake. He woke up and gazed down at you.

“Morning, baby girl.” He told you and pressed a kiss into your forehead.

“Hungry. Want pancakes please.” You requested.

“As you wish, princess.” He told you and left the nest to again go down to the dining hall and bring you the breakfast that you requested. Even though there were few people awake at this hour, the man seemed in a more relaxed state and approached Lunch Rush and gave him your order. All Might noticed his relaxed appearance and approached him.

“You seem more relaxed today. That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” He asked the other man.

“Yes. Y/N is helping a bit with my rut.” Hizashi responded sheepishly. He had to keep his cover about Endeavor and what had taken place last night. His view glanced over to Gang Orca who had nodded at him in approval of what he had done the night before as Kurogiri had told him after he and Aizawa finished up burying the body. Hizashi relaxed for a second before All Might spoke again.

“Where is Endeavor? He usually doesn’t sleep in this late.” He noted. Hizashi’s eyes snapped open and looked at him. He looked over to his boss for some help as he hadn’t come up with a cover story.

“Toshinori, Enji decided to leave our ranks. He was kicked out and is to never be heard of again. For all we know he skipped town and is living on his private island that he still has from the days when we were all Pro Heroes. I suggest that you don’t go looking for him.” Gang Orca explained.

“I guess it’s better that way. He was a cause of tension for everyone.” All Might said. Hizashi relaxed and silently thanked Gang Orca before he left the dining hall to go back to you. He slid back into the nest and gave you your pancakes and eggs. You sat up and poked at your eggs before you ate them along with your pancakes. Hizashi smiled and drank his smoothie.

“What are we going to do today?” You asked him.

“I think we’re going to stay here at the house. We can watch movies though.” He said and set his empty cup on the seat of the chair. He pulled you into his lap and you cuddled into him. He kissed your hair and rubbed your back.

“How do you feel, princess? I wonder if you’re pregnant.” He wondered out loud. You looked at him and pulled away a bit.

“I don’t think I am… I’m still in heat too. I know you banged me pretty good last night but I want to ensure that I will be carrying your litter.” You told him. He nodded and kissed you deeply. He laid you down on the blanket and kissed your neck.

“If you’re not pregnant now you will be when we’re done.” He told you. You nodded and reached up to bite on his neck. It was a weak attempt but Hizashi found it cute.

“Did you want to mark me, princess?” He asked. You huffed and nodded. He looked at you as you were frowning. You looked adorable when you were frustrated.

“You’re adorable when you frown like that. Don’t worry, princess. I’ll let you mark me. I find it cute.” He told you as he rolled his neck to the side and sat up with you in his lap. You stared at the spot on his neck and reached up to bite the spot and growl cutely as you sunk your teeth in. He smiled and let you mark him. You pulled away and nuzzled the spot on his neck to leave your scent there.

“Good job, Princess. Now I’m yours.” He told you. You smiled and laid back down on the blanket. He kissed you deeply and pushed your shirt up and your short shorts down. He noticed your slick already pooling underneath you.

“You’re definitely still in heat, baby girl. Let’s get you nice and full of my litter~.” He said and slid his length into you and groaned as he felt your walls clench around him.

“Someone’s already needy, huh? Beg for it, princess.” He told you. You whined and shut your eyes closed as you just wanted the need for friction and release. You huffed and bucked your hips in need as you released more of your slick on his cock. He held your hips still so you couldn’t move.

“I’m not moving and neither are you. Not until you beg for me to knock you up.” He told you. You whimpered and opened your eyes.

“There’s those pretty eyes of yours. You know what you have to do to get me to thrust.” He encouraged you as he ran his fingers up and down your thighs. You gulped down a moan and looked up at him.

“Please, I want you to give me you litter. I need it please!” You cried out and he kissed you again before pulling you into a mating press. He began to thrust slowly in and out as he began to hit that one spot that would make you see stars each time that he thrusted against you with his piercings. You proceeded to let out the noises you had held in during the unbearable time that he had held still and teased you by pressing his knot into you and getting stuck in your tight hole. He kept thrusting at a slow pace to draw out your orgasm. You whimpered and bucked your hips again as you craved release. The sucking and popping sound of his knot sliding in and out of your wet hole. He groaned as he could feel your silken walls tightening around his length. He kissed your thighs as he thrusted deeper until he was penetrating your womb. He leaned forward to capture you in a kiss when he thrusted knot-deep into you and released. He cried out with his quirk activated and you covered your ears. He panted and looked down at you.

“Princess? What’s wrong?” He asked as a look of concern spread across his face as he registered your scared form and your hands over your ears.

“Y- you were a bit l-loud.” You told him quietly. He pulled your hands away from your ears and saw that there was some blood coming from your ears. Your ears were ringing from the loud noise. His eyes widened and he held you close.

“I’m so sorry. I never want to hurt you like that.” He told you as tears fell from his eyes and fell onto your shirt.

“Hizashi, I’ll be ok. I just need a couple days to heal up and I’ll be fine.” You told him with a smile. He shook his head.

“You’re going to need more than that. I have pain meds in the bathroom, some washcloths and some noise cancelling headphones you can wear.” He told you.

“Ok. I’ll wait here.” You responded. He kissed your head and went to the bathroom to retrieve the medical supplies needed to help you heal. He came back with a bottle of painkillers, the warm compress, and a pair of soft earmuffs to keep your ears covered until they were healed. Hizashi wiped the blood off of your skin with a wet washcloth. He then gave you some pain meds with plenty of fluids. He then put warm compresses on your ears and held them in place with the earmuffs. He pulled you into his lap and held you close. He rubbed circles on your back until you fell asleep on his chest. He laid down on the blanket and pulled a blanket over you. He watched you sleep for a bit before he let himself fall asleep as well... He could relax now as you were safe even though he caused your ears to bleed.

About two weeks into staying at the estate, the living situation had gotten better and Endeavor had been just about forgotten. But you were currently doubled over and puking into the toilet. Your ears had healed a few days ago, thanks to your boyfriend’s constant love and care. But you have developed morning sickness, seemed more tired than usual, and you had put on some weight. Hizashi had noticed these things too. The idea that you might be pregnant was on both of your minds. But you wanted to be checked out. Hizashi only trusted Recovery Girl to check you out so he carried you down to her office and set you on the table for you to be checked out. Recovery Girl came over and gave Hizashi the option of stepping out of the room and he refused. He wanted to support you in every situation that you encountered. Recovery Girl had you use the bathroom and pee into the little cup that she gave you. You came back a few minutes later with the cup and gave it to her. She shooed the two of you off so she could run the tests needed on the urine. Hizashi picked you back up and carried you out of the infirmary wing. You still felt yucky so he took you back to the room and let you rest in the nest. He held you in his lap while you slept and waited for a response from Recovery Girl. Soon a text appeared on his phone from Recovery Girl. It read:

‘I finished the tests and they all came out positive. Y/N is pregnant, congratulations. You might want to talk with Gang Orca about getting supplies for your little ones.’

Hizashi smiled and you woke up to look at him.

“What is it, Hizashi?” You asked him sleepily. You laid your head on his chest and he showed you the text from Recovery Girl. You read it and sat up.

“I guess it really did work, huh?” You told him.

“Yes. It did. I’ll talk to the Boss later about getting a pass to go into the city and buy you the things necessary for our babies. Recovery Girl can give you the checkups you need and will help you with the delivery. I’ll be here too throughout the whole thing. I love you, baby girl.” He told you and kissed your head.

“This reminds me of something. I have a small cabin out in the woods that I used to go spend my ruts at back in the day, how would you like to go see it?” He asked. You nodded excitedly and got up to get changed. He chuckled and watched you leave the nest and go to your dresser to pick out some clothes. Everything was falling into place for his plan for the two of you and your future babies. Once you were dressed, he got out of the nest and put his shoes on to take you down to the woods on the grounds in the estate. He carried you to the woods with the excuse of ‘that you were dizzy earlier’ and he didn’t want you to fall and hurt yourself. You agreed and nuzzled into his neck as he carried you into the woods. He stopped when he arrived at the cabin and you wiggled to be set down so you could explore.

“Don’t go too far, ok?” He warned you and you nodded. You proceeded to walk around the cabin and peek into the windows. Hizashi was calm knowing that Aizawa and Kurogiri helped him clean up Endeavor’s blood and change out some of the old blankets and pillows for some new ones. You saw them and wanted to make a nest with them immediately. Hizashi looked at you and you whined.

“What’s wrong, baby girl?” He asked you.

“I need to nest. There’s soft things in there and I wanna make a safe place with them please!?” You asked him with an urgent tone in your voice. He caved in and let you inside the cabin to which you ran into the blankets and pillows and began to construct your new bed. He came into the cabin and let the door open along with a couple windows to air out the place as it seemed a little musty. You squealed and purred as you made a nest around the bed in the corner and you pulled a blanket onto the bed and curled up in it.

“I know you just got comfortable, princess, but I have a surprise for you and it’s outside.” He told you. You peeked your head out of your blanket and scrambled out of the blanket and went outside. Hizashi followed you and you were darting around trying to find the surprise. You came back to him and huffed.

“Where is it?” You whined.

“Over here, princess.” He told you and led you to the side of the cabin where a small flower patch was. In one part was a patch of your favorite flower growing. There were three other patches of flowers that were growing as well and you smiled. You walked over to the patch of flowers that caught your eye. You turned back and grinned back at your Alpha.

“How did you know that these were my favorite?” You asked him.

“You told me on one of our dates. I just happened to remember.” He told you. You walked back over to him and hugged him. You looked to the other patches of flowers and hummed.

“What are the other ones for?” You asked him.

“They’re ones that my friends like. Three of them anyways. The Sunflowers are mine. The daisies are for Shouta, the grape hyacinths are for Kurogiri and the roses are for Midnight.” He explained to you. You nodded and cuddled him.

“Thank you for the flowers, Hizashi.” You told him. He smiled and picked you up to carry you inside of the cabin. He set you in your nest to get settled. He went into the kitchen to boil some water to make tea for the both of you. You got settled in your nest and looked out the window to watch some birds in a tree. Hizashi watched the water boil and glanced over to you. You were happy. He was happy. You were safe here in the cabin. You were his and his alone. No one and nothing could change that. He was sure of it.

The end

[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