#thank God i caught it before the unfortunate statement all came out

[sematarygirls]

                                                  part one here .ᐟ

⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ ─── rafe x reader / you remember who shot you

Your eyelids fluttered open easily, no longer feeling as if they were weighed down by a ton of lead. You found yourself staring up at a white, tiled ceiling, the fluorescent lights ahead almost as blinding as the sun had been when you last opened your eyes. Your brain still felt fuzzy, maybe even fuzzier than it had before.

You registered the sharp scent of alcohol and a steady beeping that sounded like it was practically in your brain, rattling the organ around with each piercing screech that echoed out. Your brows furrowed, a small groan falling from your lips as you felt a dull ache in your abdomen.

Warmth. You felt something warm in your palm. It took you a moment in your delirium, which you could only assume was the result of the pain drugs they'd shot (unfortunate word choice) you up with, to realize that it was another person's hand wrapped around yours tightly, as if the person was afraid you'd disappear if they let go.

You rolled your head to the side, the situation reminiscent of the way you'd woken up on the ground with a gunshot wound and a very scrambled brain. At least the universe had the decency to let you keep your memory this time—well, the little memory you had when you'd passed out in the ambulance.

Your eyes fell on a hunched over figure, his broad shoulders slumped with worry and defeat. It was Rafe. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, his eyes red and puffy, and his hair disheveled. He was still wearing the blood-stained shirt that he was wearing before. You didn't know how long you'd been out, but however long it was, he hadn't left your side, and it showed.

Your eyes narrowed on him. You had a realization before the blood loss had pulled you from the land of the living. You were looking into Rafe's glassy blue eyes, flooded with guilt and fear when a face flashed briefly across your field of vision—the face of the man who shot you. Rafe wasn't the one that shot you. You knew this to be true, but if that was the case, why had his face reminded you of the man who did?

Even now, staring at his anguished features, there was an unsettling familiarity about him that sent a chill down your spine. Something about him was giving you flashbacks to the moment that gun went off. You could practically hear the bang followed by the intense ringing as your body hit the ground harshly.

Why was he a trigger if he wasn't involved in some way?

As if sensing your intense stare, he picked his head up, his red-rimmed eyes meeting your gaze. You couldn't help but notice how pretty he looked, even when crying. The gloss over his blue eyes, the way his long lashes caught his tears, his furrowed brow, his lower lip trembling as he pouted—it was all the effortless picture of perfect.

"Oh, thank god, you're awake." He let out a shaky breath, bringing your entwined hands to his mouth and kissing your knuckles softly. His body relaxed slightly, but the tension in his shoulders remained.

You didn't say anything, simply stared at him calculatingly as your eyes roamed every inch of his face. You were willing the figure from before to reappear in your memory, to make itself known, so you weren't stuck in the dark. You felt helpless being so utterly confused, and it was infuriating.

His gaze searched yours desperately, as if he could see the gears turning in your head. You knew he could tell that you were trying to remember, and by the way he seemed to squirm under your gaze, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly, you could tell he was afraid of whatever there was to find.

"I was shot," you croaked out, your throat dry and voice raspy from disuse. The statement came out harsh, accusing. Obviously, you'd been shot, but it was the only thing on your mind right now.

You hadn't yet fully unlocked the part of your brain that loved Rafe and would've all but jumped into his arms at the sight of him after nearly dying. You also hadn't yet fully grasped that you almost died, the whole thing still seeming like you were stuck in a dream-like haze.

Who? Who shot you? It was the only thing you could focus on. It was the only thing you cared about. Maybe because you wanted some sort of penance for what happened, maybe because you wanted to feel in control or at peace by knowing who did this to you, or maybe, it was just morbid curiosity plain and simple.

Either which way you spun it, tried to justify your misplaced priorities—not even fear creeping itself into the jumbled mess of thoughts bouncing around your head—you needed to know what happened and why you had the nagging feeling that Rafe was apart of it.

His jaw clenched at your accusatory tone, something flickering in his eyes—fear, maybe?—before it was gone instantly, masked with concern. He swallowed hard, your eyes tracking the movement of his adam's apple before darting back up to meet his intense stare.

And suddenly, it was like you were violently pulled back into the moment, the scene playing before you, a memory extracted from the depths of your foggy brain simply by the look in his eyes.

A familiar voice called your name. When you turned, you felt your heart sink to your stomach as you found yourself staring down the barrel of a gun. The moment seemed to play in slow motion. Rafe was yelling—at you, at the assailant; he was frantic. You couldn't focus on anything but the metal catching the sunlight and glinting ominously, taunting you to your fate.

A bang. A scream. Your back hit the ground. Your eyes closed briefly, and when they opened again, that was when Rafe was over you, the pogues crowding around in a panic as they watched you bleed out.

The moment played at an odd pace—slow but fast, lasting an instant while somehow, simultaneously, lasting an eternity. You felt like you only had more questions than answers after that.

Why were you shot? What were you doing? Where were you friends during all this?

"You were there," you said, your eyes widening as you met his gaze again. He was there with the man who shot you. He showed up with him, led him to you. He was protecting his father, clearly having hoped you wouldn't remember at the first sign of your amnesia.

"No, baby, you're confused," he tried to lie, but his face said it all. You didn't have all the pieces, but you had enough to know that he had let his dad flee the scene, intending to cover for him. You had to wonder whether he even truly cared if you lived, or if he was only keeping you alive so his dad didn't catch a murder charge. "The doctors say you have a form of amnesia people sometimes get when they go through something traumatic. And-and they think you might've hit your head when you fell, so you don't-"

"Don't lie to me," you said harshly cutting him off, pulling your hand away from him and wincing at the pain that the sudden movement caused. "Ward." You glared at him, watching his features contort in guilt and fear as you uttered his father's name. "Your dad shot me."

It all made sense now. Rafe's face triggered your memory before because he looked like his dad. Those features you'd traced and committed to memory were the very same ones that he shared with the man that tried to kill you.

Would you ever be able to forget that? Even if you somehow forgave Rafe for whatever part he played in this, would you ever be able to look at him and not flash back to the patriarch of the Cameron family pointing a gun at you?

"Listen, I-I can explain," Rafe stammered, looking like a deer caught in headlights. He was scrambling for words, for an excuse, anything that could justify the fact that his own father shot you, and he did nothing to stop it. "Please, just..."

"Why?" You demanded, not caring for whatever justification he was going to pull out of his ass.

Your treasure hunting dream—which was, in fact, not a dream as you'd come to learn. The gold that you and your friends were looking for had to have been the reason that he shot you, but you were still fuzzy on the details.

What exactly were you doing out there, and what had made Ward pull the trigger?

Rafe's eyes darted around the room, avoiding yours as he struggled to come up with an explanation that wouldn't make him look like a heartless monster. "You and your friends... you were getting close to something. Something my father has been searching for for a long time."

"Did you know he was going to kill one of us out there?" You asked pointedly. You found it hard to believe that he had come with his father to stop you all from finding the treasure and not known that Ward had a gun he was planning to use

"I... I didn't know he would go that far," Rafe said, his voice cracking slightly. It was a flimsy excuse, and you both knew it. He had to have had some inkling of what his father was capable of. There was no way that he was as innocent in this as he was pretending to be.

"Get out," you demanded suddenly, a mixture of emotions flooding through you, anger and hurt chief amongst them. The whole situation was making your head hurt. You needed to think, needed to remember more, and you needed to do it alone.

Staring into his eyes and seeing the look of anguish within them was when the memories of you both together had chosen that inopportune moment to surface, your entire relationship flashing through your mind. Your head started to spin at the rush of recollections, none of them the things that you really wanted to remember.

You wanted to know what exactly you were looking for with your friends and how close you'd come to finding it. You wanted to know what exactly had led up to Ward firing a bullet into you. You wanted to know the extent of Rafe's involvement in all of this.

What you didn't want to know of at this particular moment in time was first kisses, first dates, first i love you's. You didn't want to be reminded that the man before you was someone you knew intimately and loved with every fiber of your being.

Your heart began to ache as you looked at him, eyes glazing over with tears at the feeling of heartbreak and betrayal that was practically coursing through your veins. You wished you could go back to forgetting him, to not knowing the feeling of his body fitting perfectly against yours and the sweet words he was capable of whispering.

"I'm sorry," Rafe choked out, his voice thick with regret. "I never wanted this to happen. I never wanted you to get hurt. You have to believe that." He reached out a hand towards you, but stopped short of actually touching you, knowing that you would likely recoil from his touch.

"I said get out!" You practically screamed at him, your own emotions overwhelming you. He didn't know what it was like to feel a stranger in his own mind, and then, to find out that the one person that he could remember—the one person that had managed to break through the protective wall his brain had built around itself—was part of the reason that this was all happening in the first place.

You could practically see his heart shattering at your words and the force behind them. For a moment, you felt a pang of guilt, but you quickly pushed it away.

He wanted to hug you and shake you all at the same time, to urge you to listen to him—not that he had a very compelling story to tell. You couldn't do this. After everything you two had been through, everything he'd done for you. You couldn't let it end like this. But, he knew he couldn't get you to see reason now, not when you were so fragile.

All he wanted to do was protect you. That's all he ever wanted to do, and the urge was stronger now more than ever. It killed him to walk away, but that's what you wanted. You wanted him gone, and you wouldn't let him strong arm you into getting his way, not this time.

You watched him go, a sob painfully racking your body as soon as the door clicked shut. You flinched at the sound of Rafe letting out a frustrated yell in the hallway followed by a crash, and as you sat there, crying alone and feeling empty, you couldn't help but wonder:

How did you end up here?

tags .ᐟ   @starkeysprincess / @cometmultiverse / @iheartjjmaybnk / @all4l0vee / @kissesfrmriri / @xoxohoneymoongirl / @bradshawed / @fallbhind / @rafeslittleangel / @bakugouswaif / @rafecameronswifeyy / @originalgirlnoreplacar / @lovinqbella / @evermorx89 / @willowpains / @madzig / @harrys-housewife

[soldier--poet--queen]

on today's episode of My Neurodivergent Brain Got These Two Phrases Mixed Up Because Word-Definition-Wise They Mean The Same Thing But Social-Wise They Absolutely Do NOT Mean The Same Thing: asking my coworker if she's gonna "eat out" our manager for making a silly mistake instead of saying "chew out"

[yanderelovlies]

You shivered, pulling your blanket over your shoulder. When did it get so cold in here? Maybe the heater just turned off or was in a timer, and you didn't know. Whatever the case, maybe you told yourself you would handle it in the morning as you cuddled further into your blanket with a light sigh.

Just as you begin to drift off again, you feel your blanket slowly move off your should and down your arm. Letting out a huff, you pulled back over your shoulder, hoping that would be the end of it. Unfortunately, it wasn't as the blanket began to slip again. Wanting to find the source, you open your eyes with a groan and sit up. Only to be met with the brightest red eyes you have ever seen.

You open your mouth to scream, but it never came as a hand was quickly put over mouth. "Shhhh. It's okay, I promise." If you weren't scared out of your mind, you would have rolled your eyes at the statement.

He leaned a little closer. and the closer her got, the better you could see his features. His fluffy dark hair and muscular tattooed arm are what caught your attention the most. Mostly because it was all you could really make out.

"Before this gets worse, then already is, please at least hear me out." You could only stare at him. It seemed smarter to cooperate than to struggle, so you simply waited for him to continue. "My name is Joe, and I'm in a predicament."

You raised an eyebrow, letting him know you were listening. "God, this feels so stupid to say. I've never had to do it before." He took a deep breath before focusing his red eyes on you once more. "I'm a vampire, and I came here to feed...on you..."

You blinked several times as you processed what he said. Your owlish expression turns to an unamused stare. You made it very clear that you didn't believe a word he just said to you.

He pouted but seemed to understand your doubt. So, with the hand not covering your mouth, he lifts his top lip to show two sharp teeth one larger than the one beside it. Once you saw them, it slowly started to sink in that maybe this WAS real.

You could feel the panic set in as you now look at him terrified. He came to feed on you. Sensing you panicked state, Joe hushed you again. "I-I promise the pain wont last long, and I won't take much. Just enough to get me by.....please."

The rational part of you screamed to try to get away by any means necessary, but the empathetic part if you wanted to cave in. It must be difficult to be only able to feed off of blood.

You gently grasp his wrist, hoping he is getting what you're asking. "Do you promise not to scream?" You nodded as he watched you skeptically.

Slowly, he moved his hand from your mouth, seeming ready for if you decided to yell. It was silent as the two of you just stared at each other, waiting for the other to make a move. When neither of you did, you finally spoke up. "w-why me?"

He looked down in thought before looking back at you shrugging. "I just ended up here. I wasn't deliberately hunting you."

That was weirdly a relief. Sure, it seemed to be a case of wrong place wrong time, but at least he wasn't hunting and stalking you. "o-okay....fine, but please don't make a habit of it."

He seemed to light up as he nodded. "I won't. Thank you."

.

He watched as you eyed him wearily before moving your head to the side, exposing your neck to him. It took everything in him, not pounce on you. He didn't want to scare you away. Not when your this close to him.

"Here, let me help you." He moves his hand to cradle your head, holding the weight comfortably as he gets closer. He watched your eyes close the closer he got to your neck. You were bracing yourself "relax doll...it will be more painful if you brace yourself like that."

He felt you take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. Gods, you are precious. He felt you relax, allowing us to continue where he left off.

He licked a stop of your neck, allowing his saliva to numb your neck before his teeth sink in the best spot he could find. He heard you gasp as your blood met his tongue. Joesph could help but moan as soon as he tasted. You were everything he wanted and more.

The perfect mate. Just for him.

[panandinpain0]

Can you do a five hargreeves x male reader fluff where five saves the reader from a robber at the bank and then convinces his dad to let him go and see the boy because his (reader) older brother wanted to thank them with tea and cookies

Wanted to Say Thanks

Okay- so this turned out differently than you requested and I expected- but I really like it. I hope you do too! Sorry for not doing the full thing. <3

Fluff Five Hargreeves x Male!Reader

Warnings: Kinda ooc, swearing, blood

The Umbrella Academy was at it again, chaos erupting within the bank. People outside crowded around, gawking at the violence sounding from the brick building; police having to keep them back.

(Y/N) was unfortunately on the wrong side of the police barrier; inside the building. He had been running some errands for his neighbors for some extra cash, and when he got to the bank, robbers arrived.

Hiding behind the registers (where he'd been since the thieves showed their guns) (Y/N) had his hands on his knees, body in the fetal position and wide eyes staring ahead. He had no idea what to do in this situation. He'd never had to know before.

"I heard a rumor..." He heard from nearby.

A tentacle whipped the wall in front of him, a man's body dropping in a pool of his own blood.

Oh God.

(Y/N) gasped and threw himself back to get away from the probably dead body.

"There's someone back there!" Someone yelled before a blond teenager appeared crouching in front of (Y/N).

"Hey! You okay-?!"

The teenager was cut off as he was thrown backwards, shouting in surprise.

Well, there went (Y/N)'s only chance of leaving this place.

A scream bellowed closer and another man joined the corpse on the floor. He was beaten and bruised, panting like a dog with eyes as rabid as one.

Much to (Y/N)'s dismay, the man caught sight of him. His anger faded as he smiled dangerously, slipping a knife from the side of his jeans and pulling (Y/N) to his feet.

(Y/N) struggled against the man, a shout turning into a gasp as the knife was placed to his throat. The attackers arm went around (Y/N)'s shoulders to keep him in place as his excitement was replaced, again, with rage.

"Hey!" He screamed, spit flying from his mouth as (Y/N)'s hands went to hold his forearm to hopefully relieve some pressure.

At first nobody had noticed- nobody but Five Hargreeves.

"Stop!" Five shouted as (Y/N)'s captor moved the blad3 closer to his exposed throat.

Everything came to some sort of calm, even the dagger in Diego's hand came to a pause.

"Just, let him go," Luther slowly said, holding his hands out as if to calm the man.

Before he could even respond Five had disappeared, and so had Diego's knife.

Then (Y/N) was on the floor, panting on his hands and knees as he looked around. Five was standing above the dead man, Diego's dagger now bloody in his hand.

The chaos resumed as Five dropped the blade, falling to his knees next to (Y/N).

"Hold on," was all he said before pulling (Y/N) close and disappearing.

Gasping when they appeared in the alleyway next to the bank, (Y/N) was clutching Five's arm.

"Are you okay?" Five asked, looking (Y/N) over to ensure he was unharmed.

Shakily nodding, (Y/N) gulped and responded, "Y-Yeah. Yeah I'm fine. Just spooked, I guess."

"If you go out front the police are there, they'll help you get home." He pointed to the crowded street ahead of them.

"I live nearby, I can just walk home." (Y/N) shook his head, not wanting to bother the police if he didn't need to.

"They'll want your statement- What's your name?" Five suddenly asked, realizing the teenager in front of him was familiar.

"(Y/N) (L/N)."

It clicked where Five knew him from; he was a fellow regular at Griddy's Doughnuts.

"Well, (Y/N)..." he tested the name on his tongue, "They'll be wanting your statement."

(Y/N) seemed distressed by this news and Five rushed to fix it.

"But if you give me your address I can send them by later, since they're so busy."

Letting out a breath, (Y/N) nodded, listing off his address. He was worried that Five wouldn't remember the numbers and names but he nodded along like he would.

"Alright they'll be by later but I've really got to go-"

"Oh! Yeah, of course. Th-"

Before (Y/N) could finish thanking him he was gone.

...

Five really wasn't expecting to see the boy again, but the next day at Griddy's- there he was.

He was ordering a donut to go- probably to school. Five bet it was odd to try to go back to normal life after an event like that. For him, those events were his normal life.

Five cleared his throat, trying to gather his sudden bout of nerves.

"Hi, again...?" He was so nervous it sounded like a question.

(Y/N) turned his head and blinked, his face lighting up when he recognized Five.

"No need to thank me, and everyone's- mostly- fine." And awkward smile quirked his lips up.

"Tell that to my brother- speaking of which, I told him how you saved me and he wanted to thank you. You wanna come over to our house tonight? He's making cookies." It was almost like he was giving Five puppy dog eyes. (Because he was.)

And how could Five say no to those eyes?

End

---

Et Voila!

Sorry again for not doing all of it, but I hope this was good! Have a good day anon!

-Author Max <3

[spice-chan]

Ethereal

Yan!Dragon King!Bakugou Katsuki x Water Nymph!f!reader

The water nymphs send an unusual peace offering this year...

Warnings: Reader sent as a peace offering so feelings of objectification are present. Yandere themes. Possessiveness. Yandere bakugou but only becomes outwardly yandere towards the end. Death (killing). Not too descriptive about wounds though, although they are mentioned (not inflicted on reader). Bakugou is a bit of a douchebag at the start.

wordcount: 4.5 k 

tags: @angie-1306 (your ask got deleted but thank god you werent on anon) @axther @reddriot​

A bundled-up body was dropped under his throne, the body writhing and trying to get muffled screams to be heard. 

“My king, the water nymphs made a peace offering. She was dropped off in front of the castle entrance.” 

Bakugou’s rich red eyes calculatedly glanced down, breath hitching for a second at the beauty of the roped female—a water nymph. An offering to him. His eyes made contact with yours, seeing the clear defiance and disdain in them, but he knows this look, behind made walls of resistance and will of steel is a petrified woman afraid of her fate. How unfortunate for you. Your eyes were wide and glassy, cute in their attempt at conveying anger, brows furrowed in a glare that merely made Bakugou smirk in amusement. Your mouth, even with the rope muffling every sound you made, clearly showcased a pair of sweet and kissable lips. 

The nymphs who sacrificed you did you no favour as well, for they left you scantily dressed, leaving you exposed to the hungry eyes of dragons around you, irking Bakugou slightly that others are looking at his prize. 

He left his throne, languidly walking up to you before crouching down to inspect you, to see what’s so special about you. The water nymphs never usually offered one of their own in their attempt at maintaining neutral peace. This ritual which they adopted since ancient times became nothing more than a nicety, they usually offered rare fish, nuts, never a full-fledged nymph, and an attractive one at that. Perhaps the fact that Bakugou, the most renowned dragon shifter finally claimed the throne made them feel unsettled. For his savage and bloodthirsty need to be the absolute best was second to none. 

His calloused palms took a hold of your face, ignoring your attempts at deflecting his hold as his massive palm dwarfed your face and made it plenty clear he can easily crush you. He inspected your face from different angles, seeing nothing extraordinary. He took this opportunity to feel up your soft skin which had been tempting him ever since he noticed you laying helplessly on the floor. He then confirmed the validity of the rumours that claimed water nymphs had skin supple and silky as water. It felt like he was running his finger across the surface of a ripple, a mere dip of his finger could breach the surface. 

Heh, you’re kinda pretty. So very different from draconian women, who had thick builds paired with excellent survival skills and shifting abilities, but you...he bets it was so easy to overpower you and wrap you up nicely for him to unpack his gift. 

He lifts you, his muscles bulging and tensing, proving that carrying you was not a struggle to him in the slightest. 

He ignores your useless thrashing, kicking and resisting like a wild bird held in a tyrant's hand. Its wings contained and nails not doing any damage, freedom seeming further and further away. He walks with you on his shoulders, his massive, hulking shoulders. 

Soon enough, the rowdy chatter of the men becomes scarce, and their figures even more so, making you double your efforts in trying to escape the tyrant lumping you on his shoulders like a sack of potatoes. 

“Tsk, keep bein’ a brat and I’ll have to tie your shitty hands.” He turned his head to look at you as he said this, cementing his statement with a fiery glare that only infuriated you further. 

He ignored any protest you made after that, walking with you and entering a wing that looked to be heaven-sent from the sheer luxury, gold highlights emphasized in every corner, treasures and artefacts littered around the corridor in a painfully tidy and organised to the very centimetre, clearly they got shined twice a day. However, the further he ventured, the more the previous shine lost its glory, it appeared clean, however, the stark contrast to the speckless shine from before was clear. 

Bakugou stopped in front of the grandest door, he twisted the golden doorknob, finally appreciating your quietness. You couldn’t help it, you weren’t particularly rich back home, so to see this reincarnation of decadence really has your eyes glassing, bright in some semblance of joy, you forgot your situation for a second. 

You were rudely reminded when you were dumped down on a hard surface. 

“OUCH, YOU ASSHOLE.” 

When you looked down, however, every profanity disappeared from your tongue as it twisted in awe. You were thrown on a pile of fucking treasure. A huge, mountainous pile of glittering gold and brandished silver, rubies, and every single gem one could imagine. 

Bakugou narrowed his eyes, scowling at how much he liked the view of you on top of his hoard. He smirked, feeling prideful and accomplished until he noticed that the walls of fury and fire you built up ever since he saw broke in the worst way possible. Your face was scrunched, it felt like your cheeks were lit aflame in humiliation as tears streaked down your adorable face.

Bakugou felt like the biggest douchebag to walk the earth. 

You brought your knees closer and hid your face behind them, body shaking as you sobbed. Your tribe sent you as a peace offering, not caring for the slightest about your well being and fate, and now you're stuck here with a brute of a king who has no qualms with treating you like a glorified piece of jewellery. You didn’t want him to see this side of you this soon, you didn’t want him to see how petrified you are, how weak and defenceless you are compared to him. You wanted to rivers of anguish gushing from your eyes to stop, but they wouldn’t. 

“Hey…” he tried to console you. It was a poor attempt from an unpractised dragon. 

You tried to speak, navigate around that lump in your throat to shout at him, tell him to leave you alone, but your voice failed you just like everything tends to. 

You felt him clumsily try to lift your head in a gesture that fell between a forceful demand and a soothing touch. What is up with him now? 

You relented and showed him your puffy eyes, glistening eyes, looking at him with trembling lips.

“Tch, stop crying! You—you’ll get snot and tears all over my hoard.” 

It was the wrong thing to say, because a fresh batch of tears came, staining the apples of your cheeks. 

“Fuck—no. I didn’t mean that.”  Your sniffling was reduced to mere hiccups, break down halting at the sight of the most feared man on the earth, the legendary dragon king bakugou, most hardened warrior and skilled shifter, attempting to apologise. 

“Shit—I wouldn’t have to be so rough if I knew it bothered you this much.” He pouted, cheeks turning a shade of red that seems almost adorable, turning away from you to scowl at the floor. 

Fuck, his mother taught him better, yet the sight of you made him forget any semblance of manners, eager to get his hands on you and away from the prying eyes of people to who you didn’t belong. 

An innate sense of possessiveness engulfed him, one that can only be appeased with you sitting on the one place most intimate and guarded by him: his hoard. 

But, he’ll tone it down until he gets you more pliant and accepting. 

“Stay where you are.” He simply commanded before walking off. 

You stayed there, mind urging you to run away, a foolish choice your pride keeps urging you to make. Runaway, in a castle heavily guarded, without having the slightest clue how to get to the exit. 

Yeah, bad idea. You’re sure you aren’t welcome back ‘home’ anyway. The thought feels like a sharp dagger slicing your heart, taking its time carving the pain into you. 

Soon enough, Bakugou is back, trying to tone down his intimidating aura, but to no avail, for he noticed you shrinking at the sight of his hulking figure. It stung him a little, making his frown a little tighter. 

“Come with me,” he said curtly, then walked swiftly out, his cape swishing behind him,  making you scramble to follow him, struggling to keep up with his fast steps, frustration slowly rising like bile up your throat and making it harder to stay silent and compliant. 

He took you out of the castle, ignoring the curious looks to the best of his ability, but before he could step a foot outside the gate, he grits his teeth in anger and took off his cape. He bundled you in it and lifted you, once again, like a sack of potatoes. But you were too busy feeling like you were lit on fire as you realised that you were walking around in the outfit you were donned in or lack thereof. You buried your face in the fabric, unintentionally making a sound that’s caught between a groan and a whimper. 

He walked behind the castle, climbing places with you on his back until he got to where he needed to be

When you arrived, however, you are almost glad you didn’t voice your woos. The sight before you was breathtaking, so much so that your previous plights evaporated even if for a minute. 

The scenery was breathtaking, it was a cave, and in the corner, if it was a treasure pile, except merely saying it's a pile was an understatement as it was a mountain in its own right. The hoard you saw back at the castle was incomparable. But that’s not what truly captured you. As he led you further in, you realised the true purpose of this journey. 

There was a medium-sized pool, wide enough to fit comfortably in the cave without hogging up all the space, but deep enough that even Bakugou with his stature could enjoy a swim in it. It was clear too, so clear you felt like you could dip your leg in it and see through your very own flesh, that it would make your skin translucent. It was a shade of blue one could only dream of seeing, and after doing so would live their life content. 

Perhaps you were biased, seeing that it’s in your very nature as a water nymph to be needing close contact with water, and to be enamoured with it. 

All rationale left you though, needing for the water to cleanse you of all your stress and pain, and so bakugou’s cape slipped off your shoulders and hit the floor, your figure leaving it behind as you approached the water and slipped inside. You felt a rush of dopamine override all the negativity inside of you, feeling the water hug you, surround you, shield you. 

“So it's true, huh?” 

You almost forgot he was here, but Bakugou didn’t forget about you, not even for a second. He was watching you, fascination swirling in his pupils as your expression melted to one of near happiness, heart lurching with every cute expression you made, that *he* caused. 

“What is?” You replied, turning in the water to face him. 

“That water nymphs live such carefree lives because they spend them inside ponds and lakes.” 

You scrunch your nose at that, unable to fathom the exact meaning of his words but having an idea. “We don’t live carefree lives. Not all are given that luxury, at least not me.” You said, giving him a once over with a glare to signify that he’s the problem. He’s the root cause of your misery, Bakugou doesn’t know how to feel about that. It’s quite unfortunate really. 

He shrugs his shoulders and reverts to his default face, feigning nonchalance. 

“Well, it doesn’t seem like much goes on in your ditzy head.” 

You felt your face warm, could very well hear the aggressive thrumming of your blood as you gritted your teeth in anger. And you were about to unleash the full force of your fury until you heard wings flapping outside. 

You turned your head, trying to take a glance at the disturbance, but your view was shielded by Bakugou, who moved unnaturally fast for someone who made it clear how nothing phases him. And not fast enough for you to think it’s a real threat. 

He came back moments later with an attire you regretfully recognized. 

No, scratch that, he brought several. Pale, light flowy dresses that are often worn by your people. Light enough that they wouldn’t mind an occasional soak in water. 

Your anger dissipated, melting into confusion, then quickly becoming embarrassment as you realised you were comfortably standing in front of him in your underwear. 

You should feel happy, but bile rose up your throat, the taste of humiliation clear on your tongue as you realised with distaste that he was indeed right, you did live carefreely. You also realised you won’t be able to live like that ever again, and that very realisation brought tears to your eyes once again. 

“Tch, just take one and wear it. I don’t need you crying again.” 

Your face fell, and Bakugou felt his heart twinge a little when you responded with silence, looking at your sad face made him feel oddly protective. It’s probably because you were his treasure. Like his hoard right? He always needs his treasure to be kept in optimum conditions. 

Having justified that to himself, he didn’t feel as weird now regarding what he was about to do. 

While you changed into one of the outfits he got you, he dug through his hoard, knowing exactly what item he wanted to dig out. His fingers slithered through countless gold pieces, shining enough to cure a greedy man’s blindness. He finally found it, a delicate golden chain, but what demands attention is the ruby hanging from it. He brings a thumb to it, rubbing the rock appreciatively, liking the semblance of the colour to his eyes. 

You coughed, signaling you you were done, snapping away his wondrous gaze from the necklace. 

You looked really pretty in the dress, he’s got to thank Kiri for the speed run to the shops that he did. The light material hugs your skin, looking stretchy, yet form fitting that it hugged your body in a way that made Bakugou jealous. 

You looked in your element now, but somehow the awkwardness still lingered in the air as you avoided his gaze.  

Bakugo didn’t try to be subtle when checking you out, in his eyes, you were *his* whether or not that’s what he chose so he can at least check what he has right? 

Bakugou didn’t pay heed to the slow spiral of his morals, of the things he worked so hard to uphold. His justifications were slowly manifesting into delusions. 

He approached you, ignoring the way you tensed when he went behind you, turning around to question him, but he was quickly done. Your eyes caught the glistening red ruby hanging from your neck, the colour rich and deep like red wine. You didn’t hate it, but confusion swirled in your veins at his actions. 

“Looks good on you.” The colour looks like my eyes, it reminds me that you’re mine. 

Bakugo wasn’t sure why he held off on telling you what’s on his mind, he usually doesn’t hesitate once to tell the truth. 

Your wide, glittery eyes stared up at him, trying but failing to hide their awe. The anger and resentment took a backseat to intrigue, so did he pick this out for you because he thought it would look nice on you? How strange of him. 

He lifted a calloused finger up, face now cleared and relaxed that he looked pretty, not intimidating, not barbaric, but pretty. He caressed your cheek, smiling slightly when he felt how warm it was. It slipped off his face all too soon when he took the reins back. He squished your cheek, lips once again taking the shape of a sadistic smile. 

“You look dumb” 

Your features hardened, gaze narrowed in anger and hatred that it made Bakugou surprised. Surprised by how much he hated it, or by the sheer intensity? He didn’t have much time to dwell on his thoughts though, because a dainty hand flew his way and slapped his hand away. 

“You-“ you nearly growled in anger, tears once again coating your eyes because of him. “You rude, barbaric, selfish, egoistical “jerk!” You shouted at him. Why were you this angry? 

“Just when I think you might be a decent person.” You rub furiously at your eyes, shoulders slouched in disappointment as you disappeared deeper into the cave and out of his sight. You were always so naive and easy to fool. 

Bakugou felt the full weight of your words weighing down on him, but he tried to shrug it off. He walked out, silently brooding with his thoughts until a servant came and delivered dinner. 

He stood up, walking to you with tje food in his arms, hoping he could butter you up with it. He found you in the deepest part of the cave, face hidden behind your knees, unmoving. 

You were sleeping. 

He set the food down, bending down to try and confirm his observation, only for a remorse to hit him like a truckload after he saw the semi dried tear tracks. He didn’t have to be that mean to you. Maybe his dragon subjects can handle it because they have thicker skin, naturally, and they’re used to him. But you were just thrust into his life today and he’d been laying it thick on you. He’s coming to terms with his attraction to you and he doesn’t know how to deal with it. 

He nudged your shoulder, not wanting to test his voice right now, afraid it might be too gentle. 

You stirred awake, your face relaxed and serene as you blinked blearily. 

“Hm?” You rubbed your eyes, looking at your surroundings with confusion. Your eyes were red. 

He wondered how much you cried. 

He mumbled something unintelligible, you turned your gaze to him, the sleepiness now almost all gone. 

“What? I can’t hear you.” Your tone was sharp and cutting, and your gaze, now devoid of all confusion, was similarly icy. 

“‘didn’t mean to make ya’ cry.” You nearly believed him, nearly. 

“What’s this? Another act to make me lower my guard? Well you don’t need to, I’m at your mercy. You can skip the pleasantries and just laugh at how pathetic I am.” 

He stared at the floor, well, *glared*. 

“You’re not pathetic.” He simply said, glaring at you in a way that dared you to challenge him”-and I’m not going to laugh at you.” 

He could speculate about his feelings all day, drown in this euphoria of infatuation, hate you for making him weak but one thing he knows for sure is that he doesn’t want you to hate him. He wants your eyes to look at him in wonder again, to admire him and fill him with endless pride, to maybe smile at him, he hasn’t seen you smile yet but he bets it’ll be gorgeous. 

It’s only because he wants his treasure to be in optimum condition, nothing more, nothing less. 

“Then why do you go out of your way to demean me?” You questioned accusingly. 

“I don’t, that’s just how I am, you’re going to have to accept it because you’re not going anywhere.” Dread filled you, knowing your days would be filled with humiliation, mocking words echoing in your head like an endless loop. 

You stayed silent, accepting your fate because what else could you do? At least you got your greatest companion to keep away the loneliness; water. He once again waited for a response that never came, and he stood up with a sigh, stretching his limbs. 

“Just eat your food. I guarantee you’ll like it.”

He said, hanging his cape around him once again, reminding you just who he is, making it flutter behind him as he left you all alone. 

He was back early the next day, he found you asleep inside the pool, your head resting on your folded hands on the ledge. The sight had his worry spike so much that a vein was visible on his forehead. He woke you up and scolded you. 

And then he proceeds to lay food in front of you, climbing up to sit on top of his hoard to watch you while you eat, not minding the fact that his gaze was sealed on you for minutes, nor the fact that at some point you scolded him for making you uncomfortable. 

You didn’t like the glint in his eyes. 

In the afternoon he was back with blankets, pillows and other gifts, hoping to sooth the raging waves of your ire. Trying to convince you that he isn’t that bad. 

After a while, his daily visits, gifts…reluctant kindness was all you knew. You were starting to let the memories of your home slip, you were accepting the fact that the previous bonds you forged were inevitably breaking. You were accepting the fact that you’re now stuck in a cave as glorified treasure. 

And it showed, the sadness on your face would linger, numbness in your tone. Even the water was suffocating. 

“CAN YOU STOP ACTING SOULLESS?” And Bakugou eventually couldn’t take it anymore. 

You turned to him, no longer was there a fire raging in your eyes. He’s losing the girl he met in his throne room on a fateful day. He no longer cares whether he has to bare his raw feelings to you, the intimidate, gushy, soft, mushy feelings he feels every time he sees you. He wants to hold you everyday, not like you’re an exotic treasure, *but his* treasure. He wants you have his hatchlings with you, and he wants to see you smile at him. 

“Why should I?” You replied with dullness, not particularly moved. 

“Because…” he looked constipated, his lips clamped together while his cheeks were dusted a cherry red. 

“Because?” You didn’t get it. You’re just like a piece of jewelry right? Why does it matter if you become quiet and compliant? 

“Because I love you.” He said softly, too softly for someone who looks as rugged and rough as him. Now that broke your composure. Your eyes widened, surprise painting your features as the dragon king Bakugou Katsuki just confessed to you. The greatest soldier in the land, the most terrifying shifter. 

He cupped your cheeks, softly stroking the skin, appreciating the soft texture against his scarred hand. His face was so red, even his ears but he was smiling. He was smiling so hard that you wondered whether this was the same person. “I love you, I want you to be happy.” He said, now louder, prouder and more confident in his honeyed words. 

You slapped his hand away. 

“I don’t believe you.” You cruelly stomped on his confession, making his smile fall. 

“But why? Have I not treated you well? I’ve never cared about someone as much as you” 

“Prove you love me.” You challenged, staring him in the eye before adding. 

“I’m pretty sure you can’t though.” 

You turned around and walked away from him, but he decided that wasn’t the end of the conversation and he grabbed your wrist. 

“How?!” Frustration was evident in his voice, but so was desperation. He was genuine about wanting to prove his love to you, what would people think if they saw the great dragon king behaving like this over a woman? 

You ripped yourself from his hold and spat “figure it out.” 

He came back at the dead of night, grunting, laughing and calling your name. You stirred from slumber, eyes fluttering open and peaking out from the blanket you cocooned yourself in. Yoy felt a hand brushing the hair away from your face, lips pressing to your forehead before the fog cleared away to reveal a bloodied Bakugou. 

You screamed, scrambling to move away from him, but he held you back, keeping your supine form in place. With his arms on either side of you, not only holding your arms in place but also supporting his weight above you as he stared down at you like some sort of predator. 

He laughed heartily, and if he wasn’t drenched in blood you’d find it kind of cute. 

“What? Ya’ scared of a little blood? That’s cute.” You swallowed the lump in your throat, asking shakily whose blood it is. 

His eyebrows rose, humming at your question before a cocky smirk took over. 

“You’ll see. This will show you for sure that I love your bratty ass.” He got off you, walking towards the entrance of the cave, dragging a lifeless figure with him before discarding it carelessly in front of you. 

It was the chief of water nymphs. Her old and withered frame looked pale and lifeless, yet brutal gashes littered her body.

“She was the one who sent you here, right?”  

You wordlessly nodded, eyes glued to the corpse in front of you. 

“I couldn’t set you free, ‘cuz I loved you, I won’t stand to have you around. But she hurt you a lot didn’t she? If she didn’t send you here as simply a peace offering, I would have found my way to you eventually and fell in love with you anyway. I don’t keep you because you’re another treasure on my hoard.” Despite the flaw in his justifications, his manic ramblings and his lovesick eyes, you weren’t repulsed, you weren’t mourning the death of the monster who sent you as a peace offering for objecting to her new rules. 

No. Maybe you’re as fucked up as he is, but in a moment of pettiness, you turned to him and smiled. 

You weren’t sure whether the redness on his cheeks were blood or a blush. But his eyes were looking at you like you were a miracle, a shining star, it’s like he had heart for eyes but who can blame him? Who can blame the wild thumping of his heart, that’s hammering against his ribcage like a woodpecker does to a tree? He finally got to see you smile. 

“Do you believe me now?” He said, leaning closer to you, his eyes looking misty, glistening like the ruby on your neck. 

“I do, Katsuki.” You replied, letting your eyes hold his own as you also moved closer to him, cupping his cheek, hand tangling in his surprisingly soft hair. 

He was mesmerised, breath lost at your soft touch. The only physical contact he’s had before was when he was out in the field slaughtering enemies, hurting, grabbing. Not being caressed, because that’s soft and he’s never done soft until he met you. 

You pecked him softly, lovingly. But you soon moved towards his ear, whispering carelessly. 

“You know this could cause war with the forest creatures, right? You broke a centuries long treaty.” 

He growled, giving you a bloodied grin. “Whatever those shitty extras throw at me, I can handle it. They wouldn’t pick a fight with me if they are smart.” 

You squeezed his bicep, marvelling at how hard it was, he’s not infamous for nothing. 

Is that all it takes to win you over? 

You looked down at the chief, or ex-chief. You could still remember her cold, cruel grin as she saddled you up, to make an example out of you. No one questions her rule, no one has the right to, even if she endangers them, even if she takes the land that they always freely enjoyed. 

Yeah, maybe that’s enough, you believed him. Or maybe you’re picking your own poison. 

[peachycoreroo]

Umm, I got a request! What about their s/o being sick and how they would take care of them? If you feel comfortable with that, you can a spice it up a bit with cockwarming 👀 I'd love to see Sugawara, Kuroo, Satori, Oikawa and Bokuto!

characters: sugawara koushi, kuroo tetsurou, tendou satori, oikawa tooru, bokuto koutaro

genre: fluff, smut, comfort(??)

word count: 1.6k

warnings: fem!reader, it's mostly fluff, cockwarming, hinting at oral fem! receiving, mentions of medication, established relationships

authors note: uhh it got kind of repetetive with the cockwarming so i threw oral in there, but i hope you'll still like it!! if you see kuroo’s being the longest, no you don’t<3 here's a link to my masterlist

sugawara koushi:

sugawara koushi was a good husband in many ways. he was attentive, loving and a great cook, alas a bit aggressively positive whenever you felt insecure or stressed. nothing you couldn’t handle. but as you laid in your shared bed with a cold, you once again were reminded of why you loved him so much.

“so, chicken soup or potato soup?”, suga asked again, after you didn’t respond the first time, being too immersed in your thoughts about him. coughing, you tried to sit up, just to get pushed down again.

“no. no getting up. you stay here, i do everything.” looking up at your silver-haired husband, you smiled softly and finally replied: “chicken, please.”

with a nod, you were once again left alone, just like before sugawara came home from work. ten minutes later, he returned with a steaming bowl and a spoon, sitting down beside you. refusing to make you do anything at all, he insisted on feeding you himself.

“thank you so much, kou’. you make the best chicken soup”, you lovingly whispered as he fed you, making him smile at the compliment you always gave when he cooked it.

after the meal, you reached out towards the elementary school teacher, murmuring: “’wanna be close to you.”

knowing exactly what you wanted, he lied down behind you before taking out his cock and stroking it a few times. as he pushed your panties to the side and slipped inside your tight walls, you felt like you could finally completely relax.

you felt safe in his arms, as he pressed soft kisses along your shoulder, knowing you always had a husband who was willing to take care of your every need.

kuroo tetsurou:

being the girlfriend of kuroo tetsurou, employee at japan volleyball association, was hard at times. a lot of nights and weekends were spent alone, as your boyfriend had to stay overtime at the office on many nights, and, occasionally, even come in on saturdays and sundays.

that didn’t make you love him any less, but it did make for some hard times. for example, right now. it was already 11p.m. and your boyfriend was still nowhere to be seen, while you struggled with a fever the whole day.

having enough of not being able to do anything yourself, you staggered into the kitchen, determined to make some tea. as the kettle heated up, you leaned against the kitchen island, too focused on trying to stand upright to hear the front door opening.

kuroo was tired, but when he heard the kettle boil, indicating that you were still awake, it was like all the pressure from work suddenly lifted off of him. but when he entered the kitchen, excited to finally come home to you, he was only faced with worry at the sight of you, looking like you’re ready to collapse at any moment.

the black-haired man didn’t hesitate to pick you up bridal style, almost giving you a heart attack in the process. “tetsu’! oh my god, you scared me!”, you croakily exclaimed, voice rough from your throat aching.

“m’ sorry baby. you should’ve told me you were sick, ‘would’ve come home earlier”, he scolded, already knowing you didn’t want to bother him at work, no matter how bad you were feeling.

kuroo carried you into the bedroom, placing you on the bed before loosening his tie and putting a large hand on your forehead, checking your temperature.

“i didn’t want you to worry”, you whispered, your fever-consumed brain zeroing in on tetsurou’s exposed collarbones and dress shirt-clad arms. “well, mission failed, because now i definitely am”, he murmured, already leaving the room to continue making the tea you started.

grabbing his hand at the last second, you looked up at him, gaze glazed over with exhaustion. “can we just cuddle, tetsu’? i just want to cockwarm you. ‘wanna feel you after such a long day.”

how could he ever deny you asking so nicely? kissing your forehead, the tall man sighed. 

“anything you want, kitten.”

tendou satori:

tendou knew something was wrong as soon as he woke up. you were restless beside him, sweating and groaning in your sleep, as if a nightmare were haunting you. as he reached out to wake you up, he immediately felt how hot your body temperature was.

with determination to take care of you, the red-haired male fetched some medicine, before finally waking you up. “y/n, sweetie. you’re running a fever, wake up.”

groaning, you turned away from him, not wanting to face the headache that was currently pounding in your head. you could feel your boyfriends’ fingertips gently caressing your arm, as he leaned in and murmured: “if you take your medicine, i’ll let you sit on my lap and sleep all day, sweetheart”, knowing exactly how to get you to take the medication.

you can’t remember when it became a thing in your relationship, but whenever you felt sick, stressed, or just had a bad day, you’d always sit on your boyfriends’ lap, stuffed full of his cock, while you peacefully napped.

groggily opening one eye to look at him, he knew he had you when you slowly sat up and reached out for the medicine he was holding. when the tall man was sure you swallowed, he sat down, leaning against the headboard, and pulled you onto his lap.

it was almost therapeutic for you, as you slowly sunk down on his cock, both of you sighing contently, before burying your face in his neck, ready to lose yourself to sleep once again.

with tendou’s cock inside you, and his large hand stroking your hair, you slowly drifted off.

oikawa tooru:

“tooru, relax. it’s just a cold”, you tried to calm down your boyfriend, currently pacing inside your shared bedroom like a mad man.

“how can i relax when you’re sick! what am i supposed to do? oh my god, what if it gets worse?”

as much as you loved oikawa tooru with all your heart, his flare for the dramatic really didn’t help you in your sick state. this was the first time you caught a nasty virus since moving in with him and it clearly showed that he was the younger sibling in his family, never having to take care of someone, but always being cared for.

you sighed, massaging your temples: “oikawa tooru, you’re going to give me a headache. i just need some tea and sleep. i’m not going to die.”

“are you sure?”, he looked at you, worried. “it sounds like you want me to”, you deadpanned, making your boyfriends dramatic ass crack a smile.

“no, i definitely don’t, y/n. don’t worry. mission ‘tea for my sick girlfriend’: in action.” and with that, he disappeared into the kitchen, finally giving you space to take a deep breath. it’s not as if he annoyed you by any means, you knew he was just worried about you.

when the brunet reappeared with a steaming cup of tea, you had an idea as to how to calm him down.

“babe, lay down.” oikawa gave you a quick, puzzled look, before doing as he was told, not quite understanding where you were going with this. as you turned your backside to him and fondled for his cock, he quickly stopped you. “wait! wait, what are you doing?”

“if you want to help me, just slip inside and let me sleep.”

the setter looked at you, as if you grew two heads, only getting out a ‘huh?’ at your statement. rolling your eyes, you guided him inside you and cuddled up with your back against his chest, explaining: “it just makes me feel safe. i know you’re not leaving me to suffer alone.”

oikawa didn’t know that he could feel this soft while he had his dick inside someone, but there’s a first for everything.

bokuto koutaro:

“’taro, i know you mean it in the best way possible, but you know i won’t be able to eat that.”

bokuto koutaro was a great husband. you could even say the best, but that might be your bias talking. unfortunately, he couldn’t cook if his life depended on it, and as much as you appreciated his efforts of wanting to take care of you while you felt under the weather, your will to live a little longer was stronger.

pouting, the spiker looked at you with puppy dog eyes. “but baby, i want to make you feel better! how am i supposed to do that, when you don’t even let me cook for you”, your oversized husband whined.

“koutaro. baby. light of my life. the last time you wanted to surprise me by making dinner, you nearly burned down the whole house. how am i supposed to relax and get better, when i’m going to be worrying about you burning yourself to death?”, you asked gently, knowing how upset he can get when he feels useless.

already seeing bokuto’s face drop more and more with every word, you immediately followed with: “but i know how you can make me feel better without any dangerous kitchen activities involved.”

at that, he perked up. “really?”

slowly parting your legs, you looked at him expectingly. without having to say another word, the tall spiker was already between your legs, taking of your panties and licking a stripe up your slit.

when he heard your content sigh and felt you relax, he knew this was the best thing he could do for you.

[alluringjae]

all i do is wait - kdy

All I Do Is Wait | So Close

⤑ summary: one day, kim doyoung was alive. the next, he wasn’t. he left you and the world too soon, but he made a promise: to look out and wait for you until the very end.

⤑ pairing: doyoung x female reader

⤑ word count: 22.7k

⤑ genre: angst (so much longing), major slow burn, fluff (if you squint really well), slight unprotected smut (not my forté) | ghost!doyoung, hotel del luna!au,  slight college!au, 40s to 90s!au (loads of flashbacks)

⤑ warnings: death, grief, explicit language, sexism (screw the patriarchy omfg), mentions and scenes of alcohol, drinking, smoking, war, unplanned pregnancy, childbirth, and abortion, ghost possession of humans (in like one scene only tbh)

⤑ playlist: fly away with me by nct 127 | all about you by taeyeon | doll by baekhyun and doyoung | give you my heart by iu | wait by exo | like a fool by nive and sam kim | falling by harry styles | lovers by anna of the north | fallingforyou by the 1975 | you are the sunshine of my life by stevie wonder

⤑ long author’s note: minors, beware of the warnings! i highly recommend you watch the kdrama beforehand so you would understand the universe, even if majority of the characters are from my imagination. i also did some prior historical research. though there are inaccuracies, this story is just fiction. importantly, i don’t own the hotel del luna series; they serve as the main inspiration but with some of my twists. i’m also bit rough with writing lately, so there’s also room for improvement. overall, prepare your heart.

i cried so much in the process.

italicized texts symbolize conversations in a dream call. *wink* *wink*

⤑ gif above not mine, ctto!  leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

After all decades of waiting, it’s finally time.

As a soul still wandering in the living world, Doyoung’s options were limited. To peacefully go ahead into the afterlife or wait for his lover by working in the hotel for ghosts until she passed.

He’d chosen the latter, the betrayal he felt from the deities to have gone so soon.

And leave you behind.

But first, let’s take a trip down Doyoung’s journey; life, death, and after it.

1948

Kim Doyoung came from a well-off family. He was a university student, taking up journalism as a pre-law course. He wanted to right the wrongs and let justice prevail. Blessed by his privilege, he wanted to be of service to others who cannot afford it.

Both of you crossed paths at a university in Busan as seatmates. Right after the South Korean constitution granted women’s rights to education, immediately you aimed high and applied for the top universities in the city. After being homeschooled and self-studying under the books, the opportunity to go to an actual school was like a dream come true especially when you received acceptance letters from all of them.

Your first impression of him was that he was moody and quite snobby. When you politely asked him once if you can take a peek at his notes because you lost track of the professor’s lecture, he refused with an annoyed glare.

“You should try harder then.” You nodded in gratitude anyways, taking those words to encourage you. Though it still stung.

When classes that day concluded, you were so ready to return to the women’s dorm and take a breather from men. Since you were far from your village, maybe you would give a call to your father, your mentor all your life to seek his guidance on your professors’ lessons. Once you found your bike and placing your books on the basket in front, a light tap on your shoulder caught you off-guard and almost made you topple over.

“Oh, sh-”

“Oh my, I’m sorry for scaring you like that.”

When you directed your body to the source, it was none other than Kim Doyoung. He removed his blazer from class, resting it on his arm. He wore these suspenders and leather loafers, sporting the rich, preppy boy look. His eyes looked softer, apologetic by the way he gave a slight pout.

“I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier. It was rude of me to shun you like that.”

Unfortunately, it was rare to find young men like him to own up to their mistakes When you’re the only woman in that class, the majority of the boys are either snickering with judgment at your presence.

“Women are only meant to stay at home.”

“She’s weak. She won’t last here with the deep, legal terminologies the professors use.” Those insults aren’t new to you.

Doyoung seemed like a plot twist in the social narrative. You were surprised, to say the least, yet relieved.

“Oh, it’s okay. Considering I interrupted you from listening to the professor, I could’ve waited after class or as you said, study harder.” You accepted.

Doyoung still felt awful for his attitude, fiddling his briefcase. He struggled to express himself through words, understanding why many had this impression of him being cold. If he were to be honest, his actual initial impression of you was that you were hardworking and resilient, setting a new example of the modern woman. He thought that being too soft on you in class may look degrading, thus his statement from the class was just him treating you the same way as other boys who don’t study hard enough. Unfortunately, it backfired completely.

As a man who grew up with the belief to always pay respect to everyone without discrimination, he had to make it up to you somehow.

“It’s still wrong of me to say that to you, (Y/N). So-” He trailed on, opening his case to bring out one of his notebooks. Without hesitating, he handed it to you. “I took as many notes from the lecture on fallacies here. If there’s any way I can help you in the future, I’m more than willing to help you.”

This newfound kindness from a boy in this patriarchal university may be the silver lining in your current stay. You weren’t too sure if you would get a chance like this in the coming years, so you gladly took it. Noticing the engraved “K.DY” on the lower right side of it, which were his initials, it’s easy to identify that he was rich. But his attitude was different than the others.

Placing it carefully in the front basket, you steadied your body to the handles and pedals of the bike. “Thank you for this, Doyoung. I will return it to you as soon as possible.”

Knowing he was of help to you, he flashed a gummy smile. “No problem, (Y/N). If you want, we can review it before class too just in case the professor gives another surprise quiz.”

You let out a laugh, being reminded of your horrified face on a previous surprise quiz in the past. “Oh god, I flunked that quiz! Damn him.”

Ever since that conversation, it’s where your friendship started.

Going to university became more enjoyable and less daunting, having Doyoung defend you from other boys (even if you’ve told him so many times that you can handle it). After you found out that Doyoung’s status was more elite than you assumed, a lot of boys wouldn’t want to try and test him since their family lines would be at risk. You had a better focus on your academics, and if it weren’t for you, other girls attending university with you would’ve never thought women students would befriend the men. You were the shift in the narrative.

As lucky as you are to have a female support system in the patriarchal university, you found yourself always hanging out with Doyoung. He was filled with so much compassion in his heart and there were beliefs that you both surprisingly shared in your conservative society, deepening your bond. One of them was the sexist view of women as low-status people. He told you one time that thinking that way is like thinking his loving mother is undeserving of things in life. It’s an unacceptable concept, he added. You even met his mother at some point, and she’s a sweetheart.

Another was having the frustration towards those who shame on women who want to study and learn rather than to submit to the power of men so early in their lives.

“I’m so sick of people telling me to stop studying and settle down with some random boy. There’s just so much to learn out here!” You complained. It was one hot weekend that time, and you were both relaxing under the shade of a big tree by a flowing river. That spot is hidden, thus claiming it as your spot. Doyoung leaned by the tree reading while you rested on his lap. At this point, you’ve grown very comfortable with him. Doyoung sighed, putting his book to discuss his thoughts.

“Agreed. You seriously deserve so much better, (Y/N). People today just don’t get it.”

Huffing away that stress, your head tilted to get a better view of Doyoung.

“Doyoung, do you think things will get better for women in the future?” He admired your hopefulness in times of trouble. Stroking your hair to soothe you, he gave a positive reply.

“If we keep fighting for it, then we’ll progress. So let’s not give up, okay?” Your heart couldn’t help but leap.

As he looked at you with blooming flowers from the tree in the background, it was a matter of time where your initial feelings for him diverted into something more. The concept of butterflies in your stomach was only introduced to Doyoung in novels, but he wondered if it’s the exact feeling he was getting from you. From your intelligence to your sharp tongue to fight back the rude boys, the list goes on all the traits that he liked about you.

Weeks later, the questionable status of your friendship changed after he unexpectedly kissed you for the first time while stargazing at your special spot. It caught you off guard at first as your lips froze, him pulling away immediately. He rubbed the nape of his neck out of embarrassment, struggling to maintain eye contact with you.

“Oh shit. I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I screwed up everything, didn’t I?”

As much as the heat in your cheeks increased, you couldn’t deny that you liked it. You’re bold enough to do it again.

“Nope,” you shook your head at him. “Kiss me again, Doyoung.”

Like a movie, the first snow of the season drizzled down on the two of you.

Feeling braver, he leaned forward again to meet your lips again. You may not be experienced physically since it was your first, but that’s what all those romance novels you’ve browsed through are for. Forget the fireworks, people would compare the ideal kiss. It was more like everything paused so this moment can run on its momentum. Lips still locked, Doyoung gripped your waist so you can sit on his lap. As the friction intensified, his lungs needed to breathe for a second. Pulling away slowly, it was an opportunity to take a good look at you. Flustered, messy hair, swollen lips, he would’ve never known that the feelings were mutual.

“First kiss under the first snow? I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

1950

Dating Doyoung gave you the best two years of your life. He’d bike with you to your spot, recommend you new books to read, cook for you when you’re too lazy to at the dorm, and take you around the city he was ever so familiar with.

“Oh c’mon, let’s try this out!”

You dragged his arm to this new contraption that can take your photos in a flash. This was at an annual city fair, your first time to attend one. Because your small village couldn’t cater to these kinds of events, you beamed with excitement with all the amusement outlets such as rides, games and more. All Doyoung wanted was to eat and play few games, then return. He wasn’t much for photos, but because it was your first, he decided to go for it. Two people couldn’t fit the cushion, so you settled on his lap. One arm wrapped behind his neck, you inserted a few coins to activate the machine.

“So we have a few seconds before it starts, so you better smile, okay?” He ordered you based on the instructions of the machine.

The first shot was matching grins, the second showed your bright smiles, the third let your creativity wild with silly expressions, and the last was him pecking your cheek unexpectedly. The authentic surprise was captured.

“Let’s take another one so you can have a copy.” You insisted, searching through the small pockets of your purse for more coins.

“(Y/N), it’s okay. I don’t want-” He was cut off by the machine activating again as your coins entered inside.

“Too late, smile!” The first shot almost caught Doyoung in a frenzy, but he pulled it off with an open smile. The second expressed your laughter from your slyness, him sporting crinkled eyes when you let your tongue out and placed your hands near the temples of your head to mock him. To sort out your playfulness, Doyoung surprised you by grabbing your wrists to place them back on his shoulders. Without a breath, one free hand tugged you closer and his lips shut you up. You deepened your kiss by leaning forward and fisting the hems of his buttoned-up top. Kissing back was natural, not caring where you were and if the camera snapped your moment of intimacy. Doyoung always liked taming you with his kisses. You didn’t mind making out for a bit in the booth if it weren’t for the loud knocking from the side put a stop to your risqué antics.

“Yah! Take your making out session someplace, other people are waiting outside!”

The both of you could care less, laughing mid-kissing at the disturbance you’ve caused. It’s a thing when you’re young and in love, perhaps. Eventually, innocent kisses ignited an invitation to his bed.

“I’ve never done this before, but I want to do it with you.” You gave your full consent, laying on his soft bed in your undergarments. His entire family went on vacation, so you took advantage of it.

The way he crawled on top of you, his slender hands spreading your legs wide open like another novel waiting to be unraveled. Erotica was a genre you never explored, but Doyoung finds it as his guilty pleasure. Who would’ve known that the most prestigious, gentleman-like man of the university found amusement in sex? His lingering touches intoxicated your entirety, allowing him access. His tongue did you wonders, releasing these sensations you’ve never known was possible. Tugging on his hair as he passionately devoured your core for the first time, this knot in your core unwound and your vision went white for a split second. This rush of pleasure and exhaustion filled your veins, yet you craved more.

That night, giving each other your virginities, marked the first time you declared your love for each other.

Though there are times when dating wasn’t easy either, having prying eyes around you with judgment and the unavoidable stress from university, you’d sort things out in the end. After all, it’s in fights and arguments where you learn more about each other and grow from it.

If someone asked you to settle down already, Doyoung is the first candidate for your hand. You’ve sent letters to your parents talking about him and met his family.

“You’re the only girl who softens him up in this society of uptight men.” His mother whispered when you helped her wash the dishes after dinner.

As much light he brought to your life those two years being together, it turned into the worst and something questionable when the Korean war began.

You vividly remember the day Doyoung admitted to you his enlistment in the South Korean army. It was mandatory for men his age to serve. His dream to pursue law was to be put on hold, especially when schools were closing down. Though he’d try to confide with himself that serving in this war is another way to help his country, his nationalism outweighed his fear of death. Just as long as it brings them closer to a better tomorrow, he was willing.

Unfortunately for you, you were terrified shitless because again, it’s a war. If your childhood wasn’t enough to recall all those painful emotions from the past world war, you didn’t know what would. Being able to survive is a miracle, so there was no way you would let Doyoung go. The ignorance you gave towards him to protect your heart, moving to your aunt and uncle’s home in the same city after the university suspended classes since going back to the village was a big struggle.

So many villages have been bombed already, increasing your anxiety. All you hoped now was to be reunited with your family safely. It’s a good thing though they already left as soon as they could and are on their way to the city. One normal day while you were teaching your younger cousins how to read, there was a knock on the front door. Since your aunt was busy cooking dinner, you took charge to open it in hopes you’ll find your family on the other side.

However, it was none other than that someone you still couldn’t face just yet. He wore the familiar dark green uniform with black combat boots, his fluffy hair fully shaved even it’s covered by his hat. By the dirt on his face, he must’ve trained earlier that day. With a heavy backpack behind him, he’s on his way somewhere but you didn’t know where. You closed the door behind you so you can speak to him privately.

“What are you doing here, Doyoung? How did you find me?”

“I knew you didn’t want to talk for a while, so I gave you space. But today, I found out that I’m going to be stationed in Seoul tomorrow.”

Seoul was where most of the war was happening. Your heart was shattered.

“So I went to your dorm, but your roommate told me you moved out and gave me this address here.” He answered honestly with this new burden to top it off, not having the courage to look you in the eyes to avoid crying. “I needed to see you, (Y/N).”

“Doyoung,” within those times of separation, you re-evaluated if running away from him was the right choice. Even if he tried to convince you of the good things about being in the army, everything always comes at a price. War meant his life was uncertain daily. You just wanted him to yourself, to stay by your side, to help out in the war in other ways, but it would be selfish to stop him from his goals. So you gently embraced him, making him drop his bag to the side. With extreme fear comes your soft whimpers against his chest. Rather than running away so fast, you should’ve mustered all those remaining bits of courage to spend it with him. He must be feeling terrified too.

“I’m just scared for you. War doesn’t guarantee anything. Us surviving world war two is still miraculous.” Doyoung winced at your truthful words as he returned that embrace. There go his tears that he shed almost every night since he told you about his enlistment.

“I had no choice, (Y/N). My family and I would be in big trouble if I didn’t follow orders.”

“I know. I’m sorry I ran away, Doyoung.” You continued to sob as you feel him stroke your hair from behind. He knew well that it was one way to calm you down.

“If only we didn’t live in harsh times like this.” He sighed, longing for the same thing. He cursed whoever decided to make him exist during a painful time. He would trade anything for a more peaceful life.

“Stay here for the night, please.” You pleaded, not wanting to waste any more time.

Your relatives were aware of your relationship, allowing such a request. They trusted you enough to sleep in the same room, knowing all too well the struggles of being love during times like this.

Neither of you held back from the tension that crept into the room. This time, you led him through the first kiss while his body laid flat on the cushion bed. On top, straddling him fully. Leaving him soft kisses on his neck while teasingly unbuttoning his pajama shirt, your fervent lips trailed from his neck, lowering to his sculpted abdomen, until you reached the waistband of his pajama pants.

Only in books did you learn about how to please men, so this may be the only time you can test it out. Doyoung stiffened on your soft kisses on his hard-clothed member, glancing him seductively back and forth when you stuck out your tongue.

“Please,” He begged, tugging on your hair. “Touch me.”

Your lips wrapped around his tip before gently going lower to your limit, and slowly sucked on it back and forth. Whenever you’d want to catch a breathe, you’d lick the tip teasingly. Doyoung groaned, threading his fingers along with your hair. He’s so used to be a giver that receiving these sensations by you beats his hand. It was heavenly, yet so vulgar. The way you swallowed his cum rather than spitting it out even if the taste wasn’t favorable, you were too much in a daze to process how sudden he switched positions. While you sprawled devilishly under him, your fingers looping on his dog tag necklace to bring him lower for a kiss while feeling two of his fingers go under your panties to teasingly play with your slick.

“Don’t t-tease...” You stuttered, clenching at how fast he can get you stimulated with his fingers.

The whole night long was consumed with his body against yours, the wet sounds of deep thrusts and muffled moans praising each other. The following morning, your naked bodies remained entangled. He was still in deep slumber when your body clock alarms you to wake up. though you couldn’t move when he had his arm around you. The love marks on his chest that you’ve made were more exposed when the sunlight hits him, your fingers carefully trailing on it so he wouldn’t be startled. He needed all the rest he can get.

If only you can have mornings like this when war wasn’t in the equation.

Bidding goodbye was tough. Breakfast was too quiet, just like how he packed his remaining belongings and dressed back to his uniform. You watched him by the patio as he waited for the bus to pick him up. When one finally arrived, he turned around to face you once more. He understood that neither of you wanted to say anything. It would make things harder.

You had to stay strong for him because he was fighting the scarier people. But as he waved goodbye, this was your only exception. Just before he boarded the bus,

“Fuck it.” You mumbled to yourself, running to him as your life depended on it.

“(Y/N), what are you-” Doyoung stopped at his tracks, awaiting your sudden move. You shut him up by desperately placing your lips against his, having that a tiny sliver of hope that it won’t be your last. His hands cradled your face while your arms tangled behind his neck.

It wasn’t until the annoyed coughs from the bus driver stopped your actions. Patting your dress from crinkling, Doyoung left a kiss on your forehead.

“Wait for me, alright? I’ll be back before you know it.” He reassured you.

“Fight strong and stay alive, Doyoung. I’ll always be here for you.”

“I love you, (Y/N).” He caressed your cheek one last time, your hand cupping it.

“I love you too, Doyoung.”

Both of you made sure to write to each other, just anything to keep in touch from being apart.

Oh, if only you knew how long you’d have to wait before seeing each other again.

1951

Doyoung was stationed in the infantry division, always staying prepared for the plans his side made and the active attacks started from the enemy side. He’s lost count of the number of times he’s gotten critically injured and knocked out, but he fought through it with his upcoming plans in mind. How he must fight for the country and stay alive to see the change. How he wanted to have a future with you when everything settles down. It was his motivation every time.

But it took one surprise attack many months later from the enemy side to take it all away. When one of the senior officers was shot, he shielded him without hesitation. All these firing bullets were shot on his back, his legs wobbling from the impact. Due to the non-stop bleeding and lack of urgent medical attention, he painfully lost his life while holding on to his officer.

“Please tell my lover that I love her and I’m sorry.”

Those were his last words before he took one final breath and flatlined.

Seconds later, his soul flowed outside his body and froze at the trippy feeling while witnessing different officers and people on the medic team mourn in front of his dead body. Taeyong, one of the people he befriended from the medic team, tried to wake him repeatedly.

“Doyoung, please don’t joke around. Wake up, please.”

Even if he knew it was hopeless, he did his best to the point his entire team had to pull him away from his best friend’s lifeless body.

“No, he needs to live! He has a family, big dreams, and a girl waiting back in Busan!” He sobbed in his chest. Out of all the people he tried to resuscitate, Doyoung was the first friend that he came across on this occasion. Doyoung ached at this vulnerable sight, wanting so badly to be by his side. With these surprise attacks, death is more prevalent than ever.

“Kim Doyoung?” An unfamiliar voice called for him from behind. He spun around to find one woman in war uniform, though he’s never encountered her in the field, and a man in all black.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Manwol, and he’s the grim reaper. I believe you just died a few minutes ago, correct?”

The truth was piercing to accept, glancing at his lifeless body on the side with Taeyong and another close friend he made, Jungwoo, crying his heart out.

“Are you going to take me already?” He asked.

“Unless you still have things you want to accomplish in the living world, then you can freely go to the other side.” The grim reaper answered monotonously, very much used to this question.

“From the looks of it, you have a lot you want to do still,” Manwol observed from afar, all too familiar with the feeling. “If you come with us, I can help you accomplish them.”

If something stayed with Doyoung until his last breath, it was his skepticism with the supernatural. He was unsure if he can trust them because according to the books, once you’re dead, that’s it. It’s up to the people around him to speak good or bad of him.

“You’re uncertain with our intentions, aren’t you?” Manwol easily read through his stoic expression. “You’ll be surprised with how many things can debunk from the books if you let us, Doyoung.”

For the first time, Doyoung had no clue what and where to go next. No one wrote a book on how to act like a cold, wandering soul. His dreams were limited, meaning he has to find new ones or tweak them a lot to make it possible. Despite her reserved nature, he figured that Manwol looked like someone who knows what she’s talking about. With the grim reaper he’s read in children’s books, he wasn’t as frightening as he was portrayed.

This was his last shot.

“Guide me, please.”

The car ride alone there was messy and bumpy since it was peak war season. He wasn’t the only person who lost their life that night and riding in the vehicle. He recognized a few of them. It was saddening to find the playful Donghyuck, his youngest companion, beside him.

“I sacrificed myself to protect two unarmed nurses in the medic tent when some enemy soldiers charged inside.”

Another was the wise Taeil, who was stationed by the barracks. He was one of the people in the front of in line for battle.

“I thought they were fooling with us, and then suddenly fired multiple attacks. I caught on to it quickly, but they still got me.”

Doyoung remembered all those times he used to ask for love advice from him when it grew hard to be far from you. But that advice is no longer useful when he’s further away from you. He was dead, you weren’t.

Once the three of them arrived at their destination, it was an inn that looked destroyed from the outside, but very organized on the inside. Donghyuck and Taeil decided already what they wanted to do before they cross the other side. Doyoung, on the other hand, was still contemplating.

Manwol knew well how to spot a heartbroken person, being one herself. She wasn’t one to interfere with these affairs, but maybe she’d make an exception. Seeing right through him, he lived a fruitful life. She saw his sacrifice, picking up on his last words being dedicated for you, his lover. He didn’t die in vain.

When the two men were off to follow their plans, Manwol took this chance to approach the downcast man again.

“Is something you holding you back from going…” She questioned, staying by his side for a moment. “…or a special someone?”

“I promised my lover to fight strong and to stay alive while she promised to keep waiting for me. But here I am. She has yet to know that I didn’t make it and I can’t bear to see her in utter pain.”

“Death during a war isn’t new, Doyoung. A lot of promises become broken.”

“But I had so much I wanted to do with her after, Manwol. I can’t just leave her yet, I want to stay by her side even if we can’t see each other physically.”

Based on the information Manwol received about Doyoung from the inn staff, it came to her attention that he was fond of books. Thus, it gave her an idea.

“Doyoung, you’re very similar to the staff here. They all have goals that take years to accomplish, so I gave them a job here.”

“What are you offering me then, Manwol?”

“I have a library here in dire need of a librarian. With your interest in books, would you like to take it? After all, I’m implying that you’d want to wait for your lover to make up for your broken promise.”

Doyoung can’t deny that she was wrong. This was where his journey at Manwol Inn (then became Hotel Del Luna) started. Time worked a little bit differently as a ghost, but it’ll be worth it until you return in his arms one day.

On the day you regrettably received the letter from the military about the tragedy, life has turned for the worst. Upon seeing a soldier by your front step, it was only an innocent habit to give him letters for Doyoung and receiving new ones. However, his hand halted you to hand over a military logo imprinted envelope addressed to you alongside his tidy military uniform other letters from Doyoung.

His last letters.

You had no courage to even complete reading it when the first few lines weren’t enough to taunt you. Nothing could prepare for this dreaded moment.

“We regret to inform you that a report from the war office has confirmed that Kim Doyoung was a casualty of the sudden attack of Seoul. this letter formally declares that he was killed in action....”

Dropping the god-forsaken letter in your hands, you instantly locked yourself in your room. Your parents, who picked it up to read, came running to your door and tediously knocking for you to open it. But you didn’t listen, the heartbreak being too grave.

You tried so hard to keep it together these past months. but this kind of grief resulted in your feeble figure pouring into a heap of salty tears and loud sobs. Your back against the wall smoothly slid down until your butt landed on the floor. You clutched on to your gut that continuously stabbed you back and forth.

Betrayal was an understatement, yet it was beyond his control. War guarantees nothing.

But not when you needed him more than ever, especially when the biggest yet most unexpected news came upon you. All nausea and wild mood swings in the weeks that followed after he left weren’t normal, only to find out that you were expecting his child.

It was a secret you didn’t know how to confront through letters because it was best to tell him in person. Due to the situation, it was impossible. Only in your latest letter did you finally come clean about it, but it was now never to be sent because he has already passed away. Your entire family wasn’t pleased with this outcome but they didn’t shame you for it either. It was your choice and body after all.

They were concerned about how others will perceive you in the long run. An unmarried woman carrying a dead man’s child is taboo in this conservative society. Yet abortion is seen in a bad light too. You were stuck in a double edge sword, but you knew from the beginning that you wanted to keep the child. It’s a struggle, for sure, and your plans will have to wait.

Amid this bad luck, this unborn child is the last closest piece of Doyoung.

Amongst your unavoidable flow of tears that you knew must be stopped so it wouldn’t badly affect your child, you placed a hand on top of your lower belly. There was already an evident swelling bump, but your choice to continue wearing loose clothing to swerve from the public’s judgment covered it fine.

Well, for now. Only in the last trimester, it was going to be a challenge.

“I’m sorry you won’t be meet your father....” You spoke, rubbing it upwards. “....But I’ll make sure to take good care of you. You’re all I have left of him.”

Ever since Doyoung accepted Manwol’s offer, he never left his spot at the library. He was amazed at the endless arrangements of books. Even the western books his parents banned him from reading as a child were there. All this entertainment can distract from the long time he has to wait.

Except for today specifically, he asked Jeno, a new friend he made who also lost his life during the Korean war, to take over for a few hours when he found out that mail was to be delivered in Busan.

“Hyung, are you sure?”

“I just need to see her, Jeno.”

Doyoung expected the heartache when he saw you cry in your bedroom after finding out, and he couldn’t refrain from crying with you. Even as a soul, he’d do anything to cradle you in his arms and say that things will get better in time. How he wanted to tell you to take your time in life and that he’s willing to wait until your time comes. Whenever it could be.

Sadly, he was right there listening to you talk to your unborn child. The disbelief of in his reaction; he was supposed to be a father. Sure, he was relatively young. People won’t approve of it because you were unmarried. But it was an early start to settling down with each other.

It took him a while to accept his unfortunate fate, but for him to be robbed of this meaningful part in life was more unbearable to deal with.

From that point, he made sure to watch over you even if he was invisible. Even if Manwol advised him not to so it won’t complicate anything, he reassured that he has it under control. As a ghost without any grudges, what’s there to throw a fit at? He could retaliate at the enemy soldiers who shot him fearlessly, but they are nowhere to be found and he had no interest to turn into ashes.

The only time he assisted you was when you were giving birth. It was an excruciating process, sweating and breathing intensely. You let a scream every time you pushed, like any of the herbs or medications you consumed were wearing off. Your body wanted to give up as it weakened at the loss of blood.

Childbirth is no joke, having high mortality rates during these times. It was a tempting choice you’d want to take as Doyoung is no longer alive. But you knew it was selfish to leave your child as an orphan.

Doyoung couldn’t withstand watching you struggle anymore. If there was a trick Manwol taught him, it was to possess people. It’s often portrayed as a negative skill, warning him to only use it when it’s an emergency.

The pitiful way your eyes were drained off energy, he had to step in. Observing the midwife panicking on your side even if she was giving you support, he took his chance to possess her. Adjusting to this body, it made him glad to feel your warm hand again.

“(Y/N), your child is almost here.” The doctor positively announced.

“I want a breather. The grim reaper should just take me.” You complained as your mother wiped the endless drops of sweat on your forehead. Doyoung took it to heart, knowing death firsthand was no joke.

“Yah, don’t say stuff like that, (Y/N). This child is bound to be an amazing addition to your life.”

You didn’t know how your timid midwife would straighten you up, but it motivated you a lot more to finish the process. Little did you know.

She gladly accepted your firm grips on her hand, giving affirmative responses to keep you going. In moments you closed your eyes to push, you couldn’t help notice in the corner of your eye how from the physique of your midwife, you swore you saw him. His hand holding yours instead of the midwife.

Was this in the medication? For a moment, you let a tear not from pain but from happiness to catch a glimpse of him in your weakest moment. Every day, you were missing him.

It took almost half an hour before a small set of wails bore in the room while you harshly threw yourself back in the bed to recover your breathing patterns. It knocked you out for a while. Doyoung, still possessing the midwife, was handed the newborn by the doctor and tasked to clean her up.

“It’s a healthy baby girl.” the doctor confirmed as he wiped away the blood on the floor.

He was then brought by your mother to a designated room to bathe the relaxed newborn in his arms.

His newborn.

His desire to phase out of the midwife and use his skill to be visible while holding his child was strong. But it’s too risky since the midwife can catch him. He sucked it up and proceeded in what the books taught him on bathing a baby. During his break time, he’d read all the parenting books he could find. It’ll be rare anyways for him to use the tips, but he always wanted to stay prepared.

As the bubbles of the soap surrounded the relaxed baby, he washed her delicately to avoid her from waking up. He was just mesmerized at how you and he created something so precious. He used to be the type of man to be awkward around kids, but after catering to many children in the library and now his child, it started to change.

“Hello there, little one. Your mother needs you, so you better be good to her.”

Ghosts were highly discouraged to make any more emotional connections with the living because they’ll just end up being hurt, making it harder to move on. Exactly what Doyoung is doing was that, and the more he bonded with his daughter, it was a rekindled kind of pain. The kind when you separate family from each other. The same one he felt when he bid his parents good-bye before joining the war, only to never come back.

To top this off, the tiny hand of his sleeping daughter, whom he finally dried off with a small towel and wrapped in a fresh blanket, sleepily grasped on his pinky finger. Technically, it was the midwife’s, but he was in control.

Nonetheless, the innocent gesture got him both feeling on top of the moon and disheartened at the same time. As he curled it in a silly manner, noticing the size difference, he leaned down to leave a kiss on top of her forehead.

“I’m sorry I’m going to miss out on your life. But I’ll always be here for you, even if I’m in the shadows. Don’t ever question my love for you. Because I do love you, wholeheartedly.”

Kim Areum.

That was the name you settled with when your daughter was finally in your arms. It’s ideal to give Doyoung’s last name too because she is half of him. After resting for quite a while, you noticed how the midwife suddenly shook her body and took a loud deep breath when she helped out cleaning the area up.

“Are you okay?” You question, noticing her state of confusion.

“Uhm, yeah....” She narrowed her eyes to her environment. “Oh wait, you gave birth already? Wow, that was pretty fast...”

“Yes, you were right beside me the whole time...” You glanced sideways at her, suspicious.

“Oh wow yeah, I was.” She tried to laugh it off. “It was like I had an out-of-this-world moment or something. Oh whatever, I sound stupid.”

That brought you back to your early doubts. Whether or not he showed up or you were somewhat hallucinating. But not wanting to reflect too much on the impossible, you merely refocused to the peaceful newborn nestled in your arms.

She’s the only one keeping you alive in these hard times. She served as a reminder of him, thus you’ll hold on to her. From the outside of your window, all Doyoung can do now is to continue watching from afar every once in a while.

1954

Not much has changed in the past few years. You were either reading or taking care of Areum. Your family was lucky enough to have good housing, but getting important necessities such as water and food was a constant struggle.

With the war leading to lots of souls in the inn, he had to fulfill his mandatory orders to prepare souls to move on. He was joyful to be of service to others like he was back in the day.

Though lately, it’s still unavoidable for him to ponder how exactly are you and his daughter are doing. Once Donghyuck and Taeil went ahead for the afterlife, the loneliness began to creep in. Then a while ago, Jeno introduced him to a new group of children today checking out the library. Caught in a deadly car accident on their way home from school, he pitied how such bright kids left the world too soon.

These factors sparked his longing, plus there was still something above that: it was your birthday soon. Much to his luck, Manwol just received a new gift from the deities that might be his biggest help in coping.

“A dream call?” Doyoung inquired once he was summoned by Manwol to the meeting room, sitting across her.

“Yes, a call to anyone from the living that you wish to talk to in their dreams. Though this can only be used once per visitor. The deities pitied those with loved ones who want to see them physically. Thus, they invented this.”

“What are you implying?”

“Doyoung, you know well how easy I can read people even through their fake smiles. You miss her very much.” Manwol replied, holding up the phone to his ear. “This is your chance, Doyoung. Even if you can’t see them, they will see you.”

The first dream started with you sitting at your old spot by the river, in a simple dress Doyoung bought for you on your last ever birthday celebration with him. The forest looked breathtaking as if it was still pre-war times again. The river was still clear of blood and pollution. It must be spring, the flowers above you on the tree were in full bloom.

The sound of bike wheels stopping to park in the grass and someone humming changed your point of interest. There was the only person in your mind who would do that. Jumping from your seated position, you looked behind the other side of the tree only to find him picking up flowers from the branches. He was tall, not having much difficulty getting them.

The way he looked so peaceful and well-rested. This beauty and peace of mind he radiated, it was unreal.

“Doyoung.”

He clenched on the phone with his hand, his concealed yearning to at least hear his name on your lips again urged a tear to go down his cheek.

“Happy birthday, (Y/N).”

He handed you the flower bouquet he made for you. Meanwhile, he suddenly dropped it when you didn’t hesitate to sling your arms around his waist. Your head pressed to his chest, pulling him closer you could care less if you lost your breath. Doyoung felt that tight hug, gripping on the part of his uniform where you placed your head. He rubbed it as if it was your hair.

None of you spoke a word and gracefully paused to take a moment.

Time in a dream call works a bit differently than in the living world. Once you’re in session, one minute alone of talking is equivalent to 30 minutes in the living world.

Doyoung took his first call to catch up with you and say everything he never got to before. It was also where he confessed how he knew about your daughter. There were guilt and regret at how you could’ve told him in your earlier letters.

“You were scared, (Y/N). There’s no way I can blame you.” Laying against his chest, he comforted you. “By the way, she has your nose, you know.”

There was this wave of relief that splashed you after this big burden lifted. You can live a more untroubled life now.

“She has your temper though.” You jokingly say, putting you in a fit of giggles. It’s been too long since you experienced genuine humor.

“At age 3? Yah, I’m impressed.” He remarked with pride.

Since Doyoung wasn’t capable to be physically affectionate in the dreams, he was more on receiving them from you. In return, he gave sincere conversations even if they were a yearly thing. Talking about your daughter was one of your favorite topics. adolescence, teenage years, to university, there was so much to talk about. Doyoung would only use his dream calls on you on your birthday, making them more meaningful. Each one, you were both back to your twenties with different outfits and settings based on the differing decades.

“Don’t you feel burdened to wait for me?” You asked as his fingers brushed some of your hair back while you watched the sunset from a wooden bench.

“No, I’m not. there are still many things I want to fulfill before moving on. I also want to watch Areum grow up and help you in any possible. Only when these goals of mine and others are cleared, then I‘ll be able to rest well.”

“Will you be okay until then, Doyoung?”

“I broke a promise with you, (Y/N). and I want to make up for it.”

“What will you do when my time comes?” Your hand interlocked with his, squeezing it tight even if he couldn’t reciprocate it.

“I will shout out your name and hug you tight, my love. But until then, appreciate your life. Live it to its fullest. For me.”

Doyoung sensed your worry but comforted you that it’ll be okay. He wasn’t lying either when he said he wanted to do a lot of things too. Every dream call, his gut feelings were strong to know what you were going through in every call, giving you any advice to get you through them.

To count, he gave you almost 50 dream calls.

The late 1950s-1960s

After returning to university to finish your undergraduate studies when the war ended, you continued to pursue law school and taking the exams as you’ve wanted. But this meant moving to Seoul for better opportunities.

Doyoung celebrated with himself when he found out, not having to take the bus or ride the hotel car to Busan every time he wanted to see you two. Now, he could simply walk back and forth, managing it with his shifts.

Currently, he was taking a break in his office. The deities gifted him with a bunch of murder mystery books from the West, fully immersed in the storylines. Leaning backward from his chair, he was abruptly disconnected by a knock on his open door.

“Hyung, you have a special visitor in the lobby.” Jeno urgently informed Doyoung as he leaned on the side of his office door, out of breath. “It’s quite important if you ask me.”

Doyoung removed his reading glasses and put down his novel. Putting back his blazer on, he approached his younger friend and made their way down the hallway together hastily.

“Is it a family member who’s passed?” He questioned, slightly folding his blazer sleeves then adjusting the hotel pin on his chest pocket. By the tone Jeno spoke, it must’ve been serious. Although there’s no way it can be you just yet, he has no idea who was looking for him then.

The lobby was bustling with numerous souls. Some still fresh, some just roaming around, while others were preparing to pass the other side. Nothing new to it, until Jeno pointed out a specific scene in one corner of the room.

“Hyung, over there.”

Like an obedient puppy, Doyoung looked over to where Jeno’s finger directed. At first glance, by her long black hair, he recognized Manwol, who was kneeling in front of someone seated. It wasn’t until she stood up and shifted her body to the side to reveal that someone, patting her young head kindly.

She wore a ribbon on her hair, matching with the colors of her floral dress while carefully holding on to a piece of paper with her drawing. Due to the distance, he couldn’t make out what she drew. Though with her dazzling eye smile formed by her small eyes, he knew her too well.

“Areum.”

Right on cue, the young girl caught his entrancing gaze. With the widest smile, she exclaimed “Daddy!”

Manwol, who was right beside her, held her hand and graced their way to Doyoung and Jeno. The two knew she despised children, ordering them to keep a keener eye on them when they wander around so they don’t access the hallway leading to her office. Unexpectedly, Areum didn’t burden her the slightest. She brought a different aura, a very pure and full of love kind.

With the full moon shining at its peak, becoming present to the eyes of the living, she must’ve spotted the hotel from afar and her interest grew wild for it. Typical for girls her age. Not afraid of the risks, she followed any directions to get here. Coincidentally, she encountered Manwol in the front gate.

Manwol recognized her straight away, even when she glimpsed the drawing of her family she treasured in her chest. She still included her father, whom she was very much acquainted with. Though, she was puzzled by her sudden appearance. When Areum explained that her father lived in the hotel according to your stories, her heart fell to her gut. Indeed, she was right, but again, ghosts are discouraged to have connections with the living or anything related to it. However, her strong senses couldn’t disregard how much Doyoung yearned for his family. Lately, his only daughter when numerous children arrived at the hotel. He didn’t want to voice it out however because the other staff shared the same sentiments, so it would be insensitive so he just kept it to himself. But Manwol sensed it all too well.

She won’t tell anyone this, but she has quite a soft spot for Doyoung. She empathized with him the most since he came to the hotel, willing to do what it takes to make his coping and waiting worthwhile. She was still brash at times, but only when necessary.

Areum’s presence didn’t seem to harm anyone, charming anyone around with a smile and her words. Especially that smile, it shows enough of how much she’s Doyoung’s daughter. With a rough internal debate, Manwol welcomed her inside the magical hotel Areum described it as and tasked Jeno to call for Doyoung. It was a risk, but a needed one.

With Manwol innocently holding the young girl’s hand, she looked her down and asked her, “Is that your father from your drawing, Areum?”

Areum lit up as she tilted her head upwards to see her tall father, nodding proudly. “Yes, that’s him! The one my mom talks about in her dreams too!”

Doyoung’s heart swelled at her pride for him, not hesitating to kneel to her height. Arms wide open, he loudly called her out for the first time. “Areum!”

The young girl, letting go of Manwol’s hand, ran as fast as her short legs could like nothing can stop her, even if the lobby was packed. Soon enough, she’s at the grasp of her father, carrying and hugging her in circles. Light as a feather, he took in her scent and warmth. The racing beat of her heart pulsated against his chest, reminding how much life she’s filled with. It was liberating that she found him, even when he stood behind the dark shadows.

Once he put her back down, “What brings you here, Areum? Isn’t it past your bedtime already?”

She pouted, sulking at disobeying your rules. “I know, but as soon as I was ready for bed, I saw the hotel in bright lights just like mommy described. She said that only during the peak full moon it’ll be shown to very special people who are alive, and it turns out that I’m one of them, daddy.”

Hearing that title from her lips was something he would’ve never get sick of. He felt the validity more than ever.

The odds of being a human spotting the hotel during peak full moon was rare, earning perplexed looks by those who don’t see it. Doyoung never encountered a human waltzing in the hotel out of the bloom, so for his daughter to have this mystical ability was a gift in disguise. Maybe the deities knew how to cut off some slack and agony for wandering souls. This was an excuse to stop cursing them now and then.

“Wow, aren’t you a lucky girl for that?” Jeno, whom he forgot was by his side, patted her head similarly to Manwol. “Your father missed you dearly, you know?”

“Well, Mr. Jeno,” She picked up his name from his nametag. “I missed him too.”

Doyoung processed the features of the angelic girl in front of him, astonished at how you and he created someone so cheerful during a time of trouble. Aside from her eye smile, she had his gummy smile and curiosity, while she inherited your nose and intelligence. Cupping her chubby cheek, he pinched it with a cute sound effect from his mouth.

“Daddy!” She protested, slapping his hand away and dramatically covered her reddening cheek. “Not allowed to that, ever.”

Oh, you weren’t joking when you said she had his temper too.

Before he could defend himself, Manwol reentered their interaction. Like common sense, Doyoung got back on his feet but helplessly giving side glances to his daughter. Manwol giggled at his sudden formality before instructing Jeno to lead Areum to the carnival room. As Areum waves him goodbye for the meantime, Manwol added on.

“There’s a rise of kids checking in the hotel, unfortunately, so I wholeheartedly requested the deities to create an area dedicated for child-like fun. Just today, it’s finished in construction so it’s a great place for Areum to explore.”

“Manwol, I-” He was feeling overwhelmed, stumbling his words. “Why did you this for me?”

“You used your dream calls for (Y/N), but there’s never been a way for you to reach out to your daughter. And the way her glimmering eyes wanted to come in when she shouldn’t, I couldn’t refuse a chance for the two to reunite.”

“But what about the deities?”

“I’ll handle it. What matters is that you have tonight to spend with Areum. It’s the least thing I could do as you are one of my beloved staff,” She reassured, yet looked at him in a downcast manner. “But as much as possible, everything tonight must feel like a vivid dream to her. She’s not allowed to keep any knick-knacks from tonight either.”

Everything always came at a price. Doyoung was acquainted well enough, but he can’t lie to say that I didn’t ache. Nonetheless, Manwol having such a selfless side was completely new to him. That’s why he never asked for favors like the other staff since he’ll just get turned down or scolded like a child. Maybe she wasn’t as scary as to how they labeled her all these years he’s worked for her.

Manwol took Doyoung’s silence under the impression of internal conflict. In true Manwol fashion, she clapped her hands right in front of his visage, snatching him back to reality. “You’re wasting time, Doyoung! Don’t think about it too much right now. Now come on and dress up more casually, your daughter is waiting for you.”

Following her order, he bowed respectfully before zooming to his hotel room. She was right, he has to enjoy whatever is given. Demanding for more when you’re already dead is disrespectful to the eyes of the deities, considering that alongside your past life when you step into the afterlife.

From his uniform, he changed into a white long sleeve buttoned-up, which was layered under a lilac knit sweater, and black trousers. He styled his hair in a dandier way, applying gel then combing it upwards. He was only following the trends of the decade, basing it on the recently checked-in souls. Deities must’ve liked him a lot to give him a lot of gifts from time to time, making him completely disregard the money from the living world Manwol gives during his off days. Most of the time, his off days are spent either secretly observing you and your daughter, or reading more books in the library.

This one was like a change of scenery, his heart pumping once he exited to the elevator and rushed to the carnival room. And just as he entered the doors, the wave of nostalgia hit him instantaneously. It felt like he was in university again, bringing you around the bizarre contraptions and games for the first time for your amusement. A spark in your romance, so full of young love and naivety of what was to come.

He spotted his young girl wrapped around in the arms of Jeno, explaining to her about the wide range of rides as she licked on a rainbow lollipop. Once he showed up to the both of them, Jeno cautiously put her down so she can hold Doyoung’s hand.

“You deserve this, hyung. Make it worthwhile.” Jeno placed his hand on his older friend’s shoulder before leaving the room. Keeping it in mind, Doyoung kneeled again in front of his daughter. Her smiles were contagious, fascinated by everything she’s surrounded in.

“I’ve never seen anything like this, daddy.” That line sounded familiar, chuckling at the precious memory.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s have fun tonight!”

The bliss in tonight was never-ending, like the two of them were in their own world. Areum wanted to ride on a horse in a carousel first, which Doyoung agreed to. Lifting her, he held her by the waist as the ride started to go. She pointed out every object that she can see while Doyoung avidly listened, then telling her what each ride and game consists of in return.

Once they got off, her short legs scurried off to the game booth where rows of bottles were laid in front of her. Right beside her were the rings. Doyoung properly described the instructions, and on the dot, Areum went ham and started throwing the rings in random directions. By the way, her eyebrows furrowed and her lips pursed, her competitive side was evident. Doyoung observed as she either hit or miss, finding another trait of his in her.

You’d find it hard to believe, but she would’ve been a total daddy’s girl.

To her success, she squealed victoriously as she won and hugged her dad. One of the staff in charge rewarded her with new candy to munch on, and off she went to look for the next attraction to divulge in. Doyoung struggled a little catching up to her, but anything he would do for his daughter.

From a one on one balloon dart game, which Doyoung willingly let Areum won because she’s a fussy one, roaming through a mini house of mirrors, riding the indoor Ferris wheel, and many more, Areum was ready to move to the next venue after telling her father that she wanted him to read to her.

“Mommy said you’re a librarian here because you like reading. I like it too, can you take me there?”

Just like you, he was charmed by his daughter. “Alright, Areum. Let’s go there then.”

Before they made it through past the wide doors with the bright red sign above saying “Exit”, Areum’s attention was distracted by a black kiosk near the Ferris wheel. She followed her gut, changing her direction. Doyoung quickly followed her footsteps, only to turn up in front of a photo booth.

“Wow, are these where you can take instant pictures, daddy?”

Waves of nostalgia hit Doyoung as if he were on the beach, totally unprepared for the emotional impact. With Areum, he missed your presence more than ever. Having you there completed your family, and it could’ve been quite a reunion.

“Yes, Areum. How about you go inside and daddy will insert some coins so you can have your pictures taken?”

“But daddy, I want to take pictures with you! It’s only mommy that has pictures with you, and I don’t want to feel left out.” She threw a tantrum, crossing her arms.

Here she goes again, making it difficult for Doyoung to refuse. Even with Manwol only giving him one rule to follow for the night, he doesn’t want any bad memories to be made with his daughter. He’ll have to work it out one way or another later. In the meantime, he smirked before carried her out of the blue inside the booth. Her shrieks increased in volume, only softening after she settled on her father’s lap. Doyoung inserts a few coins, and swiftly enough, the contraption started to operate.

“Okay Areum, one photo strip has 4 solo photos in it. 4 smiles or poses, okay? You’re going to look at the lens there, in the shape of a circle. Then, the flash is going to show in 3, 2-” Right on time, the two smiled.

They had less than 10 seconds until the second shot, so the two pulled random funny expressions. Doyoung pouted his lips, while Areum stuck out her tongue. For the third photo, Doyoung kissed the top of her head while Areum poked her cheeks with her fingers. Lastly, Areum instructed her father to lower his head to her level so she can peck his cheek. His shock was perfectly taken, filling his heart with adoration.

Areum hating getting affection but loves giving it? Another trait of his.

The look of amazement Areum gave once she stepped foot on the endless library was priceless. She described how it was bigger than the national library in Seoul. While she strolled around the near shelves, Jeno, taking over his night shift, approached him with a bottled treat. But it wasn’t just a normal one.

“Manwol and I overheard that she liked strawberry milk, so Manwol told me to give it to you. It has the dream spell potion from Johnny’s bar mixed with flowers from the deities so she can’t see ghosts or the hotel anymore. Make sure she drinks it before she leaves this place.”

While Areum settles on the small couch with her chosen books, she patiently anticipated for her father to read to her before her yawning takes over her. She never tracked the time, but she’s gone way beyond her average curfew.

“Sleepy already, sweetheart?” Doyoung asked as he sat beside her, inspecting her drowsy state.

Areum shook her head, displaying all the books she got on the table in front of her. “Nope! Not until you read me a bedtime story.”

Doyoung scanned through her book selection, amazed by her choices. The Little Prince, Winnie the Pooh, Goodnight Moon, and a bunch of Madeline books from the series, he couldn’t decide! If only he could read them all for her.

A lot of those books he read growing up, and the same goes for you. Especially Madeline, which he discovered through you as one of your childhood favorites. By instinct, he chose the first book from the series, simply entitled “Madeline”.

“This one.” He patted his lap so she could sit on it, which she did without wasting a breath.

It was ironic for a librarian to have never read aloud for anyone during his stay. Maybe because no one asked him to nor he wasn’t into reading aloud. He preferred reading to himself, only helping those looking for specific books or recommending if anyone has a favorite genre. Maybe he’ll give it a shot now. This first-hand experience opened his eyes to a new type of intimacy, hearing the adorable reactions from his daughter as he read the life of Madeline in Paris.

“In the middle of one night, Miss Clavel turned on her light and said, “Something is not right!”.” Doyoung flipped the next page. “Little Madeline sat in bed, cried and cried-”

“She cried to get attention, huh?” Areum commented mid-reading.

“Areum, if she didn’t, she could get even sicker. We don’t want that, right?”

“If I cried like that, would that be enough to bring you back to me and mommy, daddy?” She wholesomely questioned, twisting her body weight so she could face him. “Mommy already has a way to reach to you, and I want something like that too”

Doyoung knew she was a smart girl, but she often denies the reality of some things. In this case, her father’s passing still hasn’t hit her, even if she possessed the mystical skill to see ghosts and the hotel. Doyoung felt cornered, so before he could think of a reply, he kindly asks her,

“Hmm, what do you have in mind, sweetheart?”

“Well,” She pouted as she fidgeted with her index fingers. “I read all your old letters to mommy, so maybe I can write you one every year.”

“What a great idea, sweetheart!” He cheered. “How will you give it?”

“Uh..” She paused to think, then a bright idea came to her. “During your birthday, daddy! Mommy and I still celebrate it if you don’t know, so I can offer it alongside the food.”

Doyoung played along, knowing that tradition of yours. Although it still aches him to show up on his death anniversary, he compromised by showing up on his birthday. He’d see his and your families celebrating, talking about the positive and fun things about him in his life. He observed his daughter a little more later when she got older and started talking. Whenever you praised him for something, there was hope and inspiration in her young eyes. It’s uplifting to discover that his legacy was seen in a good light. He’d never wanted to be seen as a bad guy to anyone.

“I’ll look forward to it, sweetheart. Promise?” He stuck out his pinky to her, getting curled in response by hers.

“Promise!”

Both of them chuckled, appreciating the moment. His long arms embraced her from the back, nuzzling his head on his shoulder. How blessed to have a daughter like her, but from a glance, the bottle of strawberry milk situated beside the pile of books gave a remembrance of one of his remaining tasks. It had to be done, but he hoped she won’t at least forget to write to him.

“Look! Miss Manwol wanted to give this to you.” He handed it to her.

Ecstatic, she cranked open the bottle cap and took tiny sips of it. “It’s so good, daddy!”

Doyoung softly laughed as excess milk drops dribbled in her lips, wiping it with his thumb. “Aigoo, you messy girl. Let’s continue, shall we?”

Cozying up to him again, Doyoung resumed his storytelling. Once he said the words, “The end.”, the small head of his daughter completely leaned against his chest. Snuggling for more comfort, he checked her current condition. Knocked out like a light, he puts the book down and cradled her for a second. The last time he did something like this was when she was born. She was tiny then, and now, she’s bound to outgrow his lap sooner or later.

This was his sign to bring her home.

He boosted her small figure, her head now planted on his shoulder and his hand resting behind the nape of her neck. Her legs were entangled in his torso when he showed up at the lobby again. It was much more serene, everyone checked in already.

“Aigoo, fast asleep already?” Manwol made an appearance without warning, alongside her personal driver Yuta and the bartender Johnny.

“As expected from my magic.” Johnny commended himself, stretching his fingers. That easily gave him a slap from Yuta.

“Can’t you be more sensitive to Doyoung?”

Not caring about those two, Manwol caressed Areum from behind. Inside her cold heart, she brought so much amusement. Even if she embodied traits from Doyoung, she stood out from his usual reserved nature. She had so much energy, and it’s a fresh sight. Manwol secretly peered at their father-daughter time in the library, and she sensed the love the two had for each other. Even if it’s unbearable to separate them, having tonight was a pleasure for all.

“Yuta,” She summoned him. “Drop these two to her house safe and sound. It’s too dangerous to walk in the dark right now.”

Bowing in response, he led the way to the elevator for Doyoung to follow. But before he took the first step, Manwol halted him by the arm. “You better come back, or the deities won’t be pleased.”

He nodded before he was sent on his way. Wasn’t this brutal?

The silence in the car ride is deafening, though he didn’t want to disturb his little girl either. Yuta peeked from the mirror now and then to check on the two, sharing the gloom of his fellow friend. Having something or someone so valuable from the living world makes it hard to leave it. He understood as he suffered a similar fate to him.

When they’ve arrived at their destination, Doyoung was quick to notice that the lights from your living room were still on. It’s too risky to waltz in through the front door, squinting for other ways to go inside. To his luck, the window of Areum’s bedroom was wide open. That must’ve been how she escaped earlier.

“Be careful, Doyoung. Her neighbors may be watching.”

“It’s around 4 am right now, Yuta. I’ll be fine.” He reassured, clicking open the car door with his daughter peacefully asleep.

Entering inside her bedroom, he gently put her down on her soft bed. Covering her body with the duvet so she wouldn’t get cold, he took one last lingering look before taking his leave. Manwol might be looking for him already. Pressuring even to know that Yuta was waiting outside for him and that the deities are looking down on him too.

“Daddy,” Her tiny hand tugged on his sleeve, stopping his movements. Her droopy eyes faintly ajar, wanting to capture these last dreamy moments. “Don’t leave me and mommy again.”

This retouched attachment between the two made things much more stifling to accept reality. Doyoung understood her fright and sighed, kneeling to her again. Patting her head, “I’m sorry but I have no choice, sweetheart. We don’t want daddy to get in trouble, right?”

She lazily nods, tugging on his sleeve again. “Can you sing me to sleep, daddy? You used to do that for mommy.”

He grinned, accepted her last request. Holding on her hand, kissing it, he quietly sings.

“Eonjebuteoinji geudaereul bomyeon….”

When the song reached its end, the soft snores from Areum filled his eardrums. Her eyes are fully closed, and her tiny head fell to the side of her pillow. Kissing her forehead, he whispered, “Good night, sweetheart. Daddy loves you so much.”

A cute sight to Doyoung, she occupied a huge part in his heart. Even if everything tonight will feel like a complete dream, it’s a memorable moment for Doyoung that he’ll treasure.

Initially, he planned to leave her bedroom the same way he came in, which was through her window. That’s all Manwol tasked him to do when he arrives at your house, but his heart selfishly desires to see you. Even if he was invisible now. His powers were weakening, twitching from being visible to invisible back and forth.

Never has he stepped inside your new house, and this could be his only chance.

The first thing he saw after leaving his daughter’s bedroom was the dining room. Tidy and organized, as expected from you. For the living room connected to it, the simple decorations invited him inside. Assorted photos hung in the wall and by the table near the front door, with a fresh bouquet of asters in a vase there too.

Alluring as it is, the only thing Doyoung couldn’t keep his eyes off the most was a sleeping you in pajamas, hunched over the coffee table on top of books and numerous paperwork. An empty coffee glass neared the edge, so he caught it before you squirmed again from your sleep.

The exhaustion from your life was constantly piled up one after the other. You’ve been studying hard at law school, balancing it with a part-time job as a teacher’s assistant at your university for undergrads and being a mom to Areum. Even seeing the pile of bills right by your side, you didn’t just need the help of your families. You needed him, as a friend, lover, and father.

Men were still viewed as the main breadwinners of the family, but you juggled both positions as mother and father. It was a vicious fate, and he’d do anything to share that challenge with you. For now, the only thing he could do is bring you to bed at least.

Taking you into his arms bridal style, completely knocked out, he only assumed the remaining door in front of Areum’s bedroom was your bedroom. Carefully kicking it, he graced your bed and laid you down elegantly so your sleeping flow won’t be disturbed. He put the covers on top of your body so you’d feel comfier.

Right in front of your bedside was a breezy open window, the moonlight creeping in to highlight your sleeping face. The wrinkles on your forehead started to show, a side effect of immense stress. It’s a trait no one wants, yet it symbolized aging and moving forward to the future. Doyoung envied you for it.

Besides that, you looked youthful as ever, seeking internal peace from the outside world in your deep slumber. His index traced the outline of your face, appreciating your glow. Trapped in amazement, leaving you will be more difficult. It’s been a while since he saw you up close in the flesh, but Manwol’s words daunted his mind. Just like his daughter, his lips softly pecked your forehead and to your ear, he said in a hushed tone, “Good night, my love. I’m so proud of you.”

Getting back on his knees to exit, he’s convinced that you and your daughter can detect a leaving presence and catch it before they do. On cue, your hand unconsciously grabbed his wrist. Your mind couldn’t make up what mental state you were in, but something in you vibed a known presence. One that you’ve yearned, one that you struggle to wait and see until your birthday arrives. Is he actually here?

Doyoung reacted immediately, his feet shuffling to face you again. Eyes still shut close, but your lips released a satisfied moan as you stretched your arms slightly.

“Is it my birthday already?” You mumbled incoherently, gripping on the unknown wrist. “Or am I just lucky enough to get a free pass?”

He rolled his eyes at your nonsense. “If this was a free pass, what would you want me to do?”

You weakly took a peek. It was blurry, probably caused by your sleepiness. But you recognized the silhouette of this stranger from the back of your hand. You clutched his grip, bringing his face closer to yours. Doyoung didn’t expect such a jerking action, almost falling limp if his other free hand didn’t grip on your duvet.

“Kiss me before you go again, my love.” You requested, mindlessly craving his touch.

Loosening from your grip, his palm cupped your cheek as he wets his lips. He made the first move, sweetly and slowly. Even at your unknown state, you returned with the same level of passion, brushing the hair behind the nape of his neck to deepen it. You haven’t kissed anyone like this in a very long time, too busy with your studies and motherhood. This refreshed your memories of what you missed, a warm tear escaping your eye.

No one will ever match up to him.

Doyoung’s deprivation of physical touch for you amplified, eagerness for so much more than this. Touching himself to the thought of you grew tiring, wanting to have you in the flesh by his side. It wasn’t until a bright car light from outside shun by your window. Yuta was an impatient one, but he had every right to be.

It was fulfilling while it lasted. His heart throbbed when his lips parted from yours, opening his eyes again. Your eyes stayed closed, but your lips hummed in satisfaction.

“Nothing changed in the way you kiss, my love.” You complimented, succumbing back to your deep slumber by pulling yourself further inside the duvet.

Doyoung grinned at your words, kissing your knuckle one last time. “I meant what I said, (Y/N). Sleep well.”

He tiptoed out your bedroom, deciding to exit through the front door. Again, no one would be awake at this time anyway. However, an antique-looking photo of him caught his eye. Taking a closer look, it was you and him by his garden, clutching on his arm under their family lemon tree and smiling during pre-war times. It was a funny story actually.

His father bought a camera for the first time and wanted to test it out. You were over at their house that day to study, and his father insisted to take a photo of the two of you as a first try.

“Oh come on, we must commemorate this new contraption! The first people can be titled “Young Love” or something like that!”

Doyoung cringed, whining, “Dad, that’s so corny!”

“I don’t care. Now hurry, join the frame with (Y/N) and smile!”

His father may present himself as strict and stubborn as one of the most affluent men in Korean society even after the war, but behind the scenes, he knows how to entertain his children. Doyoung’s childhood never had a dull moment. Oh, how wished he could follow the same fate as him.

This happy photo was a golden treasure to you, framing it so it could be preserved. It was one of your last traces of him, aside from Areum. Next to it, a much smaller photo of you and Areum was placed. Also all smiles for the two of you, Areum firmly sat on your lap and clasping her hands above her dress. You cut your hair during that time, showing the dog tag necklace that once belonged to him on your neck. You were really devoted to him, and he’s grateful, to say the least.

He knew he shouldn’t take anything either before going back to the hotel, but there was just no way he can’t take this one photo of his favorite girls with him. He already kept his photo strip of him and Areum from the carnival in his back pocket, so he’ll just have to work out the consequences then.

Returning to the car was bittersweet. He took one more proper look at your home, taking in all the positive energy to have such a loving family even if he can only watch from afar. While Yuta revved the car on, Doyoung deeply sighed from the backseat. What a spontaneous evening.

“I’m guessing you didn’t resist seeing your lover either, Doyoung?” Yuta commented, viewing him from the mirror. Raising his brows playfully, “Got caught in the VIP seat of you two lip-locking.”

“First of all, that’s creepy, Yuta. Second, you most definitely know what it feels like to be separated from your lover. Cut me some slack.”

“Whatever, that’s not my business anyway. But good luck to you if Manwol asked why there was a sudden extension.” The older friend shrugged, his foot pressing on the pedal to drive off the area.

“Keyword is if she asks. Now please, drive faster, Yuta. I have a shift to fill in now.”

Last night was a gift, but also an aching reminder of what could’ve been if he never died. The sun is slowly making its appearance again, bringing in another morning in this reality. Another work day for Doyoung, more waiting to be done.

Yet recalling his bonding moments with Areum, he’ll most likely get through another few decades. He yanked out his photo strip from the back pocket of his trousers, gazing at their authentic happiness. He muttered to himself,

“I’ll see you and your mother again, and we’ll all celebrate and rejoice. ‘Til then, my sweetheart.”

Meanwhile, ever since that peculiar “dream” with Doyoung, it left you with a lot of questions. Perhaps, it’s all just in your head. Though it doesn’t quite answer how one of your beloved pictures went missing. That’s definitely something you’re going to ask if your birthday comes up again.

Moving forward, his kind words pushed you to do your best. In the next years, you first became a family lawyer for a few years to get used to the field, but permanently shifted to being a public attorney because you wanted to be able to represent those who are suffering the most yet can’t afford the legal help to avoid it.

Just like what you and Doyoung aspired.

Balancing that with a kid was overwhelming, but with your and Doyoung’s families helping you out, your stress lessened.

You served as a huge inspiration to female college students wanting to pursue law. Since law is still perceived as a male-dominated field, you constantly pushed to make space for women in that workforce. It was also rare of you to lose a case because of the hard work you put into disproving every loophole and suggesting the correct punishments for the wrongdoers.

“You really outdid yourself once again, (Y/N). Or should I say Attorney (Y/L/N) (Y/N).”

“Shut up, Doyoung. Tell me more about your hotel staff friends. That Johnny guy seems very fun, and Jeno seems like a lovely boy.”

“Johnny’s a playful lad, always the life of the party. Jeno is like the younger brother I really wish I had. Donghyun-hyung is okay and all, but he’s so high maintenance.”

“Shush! He’s doing fantastic right now. He pursued acting like he always wanted.”

“He deserves it because he’s hard-working, like yourself, Attorney.”

You’ve never fallen in love the same way you did for Doyoung. Though you won’t lie that you’ve slept with a few men during nights out with your co-workers, committing to another man was something you had no time for. You always envisioned Doyoung as the one fucking you senseless.

People viewed it as stupid to be still lovestruck over your dead lover, but you’ve been called worst insults in your life that it doesn’t sting that much anymore. At the end of the day, your heart still soared and longed for Doyoung.

You just can never let him go.

“It’s still unfair to you, Doyoung. I should be ashamed.” The two of you were at a drive-in theater, watching from the trunk of his pickup truck. Your back laid against his chest as his fingers roam your torso in an upwards motion.

“No, you shouldn’t, (Y/N). It’s natural to desire human affection. I’m the one who should be sorry for not giving it to you.”He replied, completely ignoring the film.

You scoffed jokingly. “It’s silly how we’re so deprived of sex, especially with each other.”

“Oh, (Y/N). Don’t get me started, I’m suffering here with my hand alone while you can just find any available man.”

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry.” You surrendered, directing your head from the front to the back. “At the end of the day, it’s still your touch that still gets me weak.”

“My dear, on the day we reunite, brace yourself. I’ll show you who you really belong to.”

1973

Doyoung’s been on duty with reading books to children lately, and again, he’s aching to see what Areum’s up to. Rereading past letters from her from his birthday celebrations were driving him wild. After helping one young girl look for more books under the Madeline series, he had to make an exception. Just this once, and that would be it.

Even if he was under disguise, he desperately wanted to have just another brief conversation with her, especially that she’s a lot older compared to their last encounter. Doyoung witnessed her bloom from this imaginative young girl to a strong woman chasing after her dreams.

Like mother, like daughter.

He spotted her at a small bookstore to buy books for her classes and newly arrived ones from the States, very much interested in western literature. But upon seeing the peaked prices which were more than what she saved for, she put the book back on the shelf and gathered the ones she actually needed.

This was where Doyoung took it upon himself to offer his help. Staying long enough in the middle of the living and the dead, he was capable to turn visible.

“Stephen King, huh?” He inquired, scooting to her side and pulling out the book again to take a better look at it. He came across this book in his library, even if it was in English. “I see that you’re into horror. These books are in English though.”

Areum knew speaking to strangers is not a good thing, but if anyone reached out to her to talk about books, she can’t help but feel excited. “I’m interested in a lot of genres, and this book is pretty popular right now so I wanted to check it out. Besides, I’m reading more English books so I can become fluent one day.”

“You aren’t scared of the storylines?”

“I went through a life of hardships, sir. Nothing scares me anymore honestly.” Doyoung couldn’t help feel proud and sorry for her. Without questions, he led her to the counter and paid for all books despite her insisting not to.

“Sir, you really shouldn’t have. I can always come back for those books when I save up more.”

“It’s fine, really. With your taste in literature, you have a promising future as an author if that’s what you’re aiming for.” He complimented. Areum was frazzled at how spot on this stranger was, trying to convince him again.

“Are you sure I shouldn’t pay you back?”

“Pay me back by publishing your books.” He confidently stated, bringing out his wallet to pay the cashier. His astonishing kindness and encouragement for her are heartwarming, bowing with gratitude.

“Thank you,” She halted because she didn’t know his name.

There was no way Doyoung can disclose his actual name, so he just picked a random nickname some of the kids in the hotel who he read to coined for him. “I prefer giving people my nickname. It’s tokki.”

“Thank you, tokki. I’m Areum, Kim Areum.” She thanked him properly, struggling from carrying her things to shake his hand, but Doyoung signaled her not to.

“Nice to meet you, Areum.” He greeted back.

As Areum was more ready to part ways, Doyoung’s fatherly instincts activated due to the heavy box she held. Her dorms must be a bit far and it was already nighttime. Anything can happen.

“Excuse me, Areum. But do you mind if I help you with your books? It’s pretty late, so I just want to make you get back safe.”

Something in Areum was very willing to trust this man she just met. Sure, he was quite covered up, but it’s almost winter and maybe he didn’t want to catch a cold. Though, his intentions looked good. She’s heard stories about people getting robbed in these alleys, so she accepted his help.

Her dorms were a few blocks away, giving enough time to be acquainted with this man. Though he was the one mostly asking the questions and she answered them. She didn’t pry on it too much and went with the flow.

“Are you an only child in your family?”

“Yes. It’s also just me and my mom. I never got to meet my dad sadly. He died before I was born while battling in the Korean war.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” No matter how long it’s been since the war, the trauma of it all still haunted Doyoung.

“It’s been years so it’s fine. I found out recently that he risked his life to save his senior officer during a surprise attack from one of my uncles. If that isn’t bravery, I don’t know what is.”

“So you’re not mad at him for leaving?” He asked, hoping he didn’t cross boundaries either. He needed this closure.

“It was hard to accept at first. All my friends grew up with their actual fathers, and I felt outcasted. But there are just some things we can’t control, you know?  Besides, people always spoke of him highly and that makes me proud. Though,” She answered honestly, covering up the bitterness in her words in other not to disrespect him. “I’m pretty sure I saw him in a dream when I was younger.”

Doyoung’s heart leaped. So she may recall quite a bit. “Oh really? What was it like?”

“The only person I told this to is my mom. It felt quite unreal, honestly. I was around 7-8 years old at that time, and we were at a carnival, enjoying the attractions and stuff. Then we transitioned to this huge library where he read me a bunch of stories. One of them was Madeline, I believe. One of my favorites!”

Doyoung replays the fond memory in his mind. Time really flew by so fast.

“What a fun dream, it seems to be.”

Areum was elated at the best memory of her youth, smiling to herself. “It truly was. It felt like I was with him, you know. No matter how many times he told me he loved me there, I still respond the same way and that nothing has changed.”

“I love you too, Areum.” He mumbled quietly. That dream should not have been the only memory they have of each other. Neither of them deserved to be parted.

Soon enough, they arrived at the front doors of her dorm residence. Since it was strictly for women, she explained that she’ll carry the box from here on.

“Thanks again for the help, tokki. I’ll make sure to pay you back soon.” She spoke so casually because, for some reason, this mysterious man felt trustworthy. Her gut feeling may fool her, but she let it pass.

“Take your time, Areum. I wish you the best of luck.”

Before they went separate ways, something about her bitter words from awhile ago bothered Doyoung and he wanted to say something about it. Because looking into the far future, if he didn’t, he knew he’ll regret it and make moving on harder.

“Wait, Areum!”

Areum abruptly reacted to the shouts of her name, almost dropping the box. She faced again the mysterious tokki, who now had an awkward stance with his hand in the air waving at you.

“Yes, tokki?”

Compiling his thoughts, here goes nothing.

“This is quite random but your dad... I just know he loves you too. He’s also proud of you for being strong and intelligent. I hope you don’t forget that.”

Areum was baffled by his statement, but it was uplifting to hear that. Maybe this tokki guy was going through the same thing as her, so she didn’t want to judge too quickly. She was taught to never judge a book by its cover from you. By the quick blinking of her eyes, some tears dropped down to her cheek. She let out some sniffles on her way up to her dorm room, reassured that this stranger may just be correct. She heard what she needed to hear.

It’s been a long time since he reunited with his daughter, even if she’s fooled into thinking that the dream was just a dream. His status as a father was renewed. Even if he got a major scolding from Manwol upon his return at the hotel for ditching his shift.

“She blamed you in public? Oh no, my love.” You consoled your lover after he told you the tale.

A lot of iconic songs were released during this decade, so this dream accommodated it. It was set in a jazz bar, where all sorts of alcohol on display with assorted vinyl CDs by the platform at the end. Dimly lit with numerous empty tables and chairs, and it was only the two of you. Dressed to the nines for the occasion, your flimsy hands couldn’t stop playing with your hoop earrings. A definite staple while you swayed your hips to the beat of Superstition by Stevie Wonder.

Doyoung sat in one of the bar stools in a red v-neck top and flare pants, marveling at your physique and movements in that indigo romper. You could feel his fiery stare, your body flowing through the groove to capture him into your spell. The dream version of him always gets easily distracted when you act suggestive, especially when he isn’t in control physically. Only his words can he sort out.

Dancing towards him, you dragged his arms away from his seated position to lead him to the empty dance floor.

“Let’s dance off the stress, shall we?”

Pulling off the famous dance moves and grooving in freestyle, it was a blast. Both your young energies were in sync. From the funky beat, it shuffled into a slower yet soulful song. The unwinding mood could only mean that this dream was reaching its end. You took Doyoung’s arms again, placing one on your waist and the other interlocked with you. Taking the lead, you waltzed back and forth, twirling yourself in his arms.

Doyoung cracked a smile from the phone and in the dream, immersing himself in the lovely song. It was always played on the radio during the late-night shows, dedicated for the couples out there. With you, he could finally understand why couples request it every night.

“You are the sunshine of my life,” He sang along while feeling your heartbeat against his chest. “That's why I'll always stay around.”

“You are the apple of my eye,” You carried from where he left off, equally resonating with the lyrics. No matter how many times you’ve said or expressed your patience for each other, this song held a special place. It summed up everything you’re both fighting for.

“Forever, you'll stay in my heart.”

1980s

It came to Doyoung’s attention that there’s a new member of the hotel staff, and Manwol put him in charge of touring this new addition around and orienting them about the hotel rules. Considering he wasn’t busy, he went for it.

This person would be the replacement of Johnny, who finally passed through the afterlife in high spirits after his younger brother Mark took his rightful place as the heir of their family business. Originally, it was him, but his stepmother and stepbrother stabbed him alongside his father to get ahold of the power. Without proof, they led the business as she freely did, overworking Mark numerously and spending their money to their heart’s desire.

Doyoung couldn’t let this pass. Since Manwol hired a human manager back in the ‘70s named Kun to better facilitate human-related affairs for the hotel (taxes, bills, etc), he requested him to talk to Mark then introduce him to you.

Kun also made sure to inform you that this was Doyoung’s idea.

“This Johnny is the same Johnny that Doyoung talks about in my dreams? The one who brings the fun out of him every once and while?”

“That’s right, Ms. (Y/L/N). Due to the betrayal, he can’t move on until his stepbrother is taken down.”

The fact that Kun was a bridge to the two of you felt miraculous. Now and then, Doyoung tasked Kun to buy you flowers or coffee whenever they meet. Sometimes, he’ll ask him to send his letters to you too. In return, you replied to those letters, attaching pictures of you and Areum over time. He hung it up in his office, taking a look before every shift.

Kun didn’t mind being in the middle. While Doyoung gave her cases to work on, it makes it easier for him to wait for her. Doyoung was a guest first before being a member of staff, and as the human manager, he’ll make sure that he gets to move on too.

Even if you don’t accept cases from big companies, the touching way how Mark described his passed older brother persuaded her otherwise. He even opened up about watching his father and older brother get killed right in front of him. From there, he was held hostage for years and never told anyone about that night.

It was undoubtedly the biggest case in your career. Up until this day, everyone still talks about how complex and intense the battle was.

“Always finding a way to make justice prevail, Kim Doyoung.” You thought to yourself after gathering more evidence from Mark and Kun, working closely also with forensics and the police.

And that you did. With additional information on Johnny’s side, which helped find the empty puzzle pieces to prove his stepfamily’s guilt, they won the case. Life imprisonment and forced transferring of roles, Mark became the CEO. All those involved in hiding the truth got caught and fired from their positions.

You deserved your influential status, and due to your never-ending service, Doyoung found himself falling in love with you over and over again. Even from far away, you felt his connection and passion.

Currently, you were dealing with five cases, one of them being another request for Kun and Doyoung. It was for the murder of Yuta Nakamoto in the late 40s.

Being a migrant from Japan, numerous Koreans held grudges for their people. He was mistreated and disrespected, even if he had the most caring soul. He even found love, ready to get wed. But one normal evening after his job as a Japanese teacher, he was mobbed by Koreans and heartlessly killed. At first, he wanted vengeance. But after Manwol telling stories of souls burning into ashes when they get revenge, he changed his objective to watch the demise of all his killers, who became very influential people in Korean society.

Representing with you was his former lover, Sooyoung. No matter how many times she tried to appeal to the court in the past, no one paid attention because she was a woman and interracial relationships were taboo. Even if Yuta held a special place in her heart, she eventually got married to another man. In the beginning, she felt guilty, but after Yuta told her in a dream call that she shouldn’t be afraid to open herself up again, she never held back. And as a fellow woman who’s been ostracized, you sided with her.

She may not have her happy ending with Yuta, but it only felt right to avenge his wrongful death.

It’s a tough battle, these murderous men not owning up to their crime, and the public also discriminating the dead man by saying he deserved it. But you knew you could do it, even if it’ll take a while.

Back to the newbie, he was in his early twenties. He went by the name, Jaehyun. Just about to start his life, yet taken away just like that. Aside from being the next bartender, he has another position as the vinyl boy in the music section of the library. It came to Manwol’s attention that he wanted to pursue music when he was alive, listening to vinyl CDs or cassette players and taking singing and piano lessons growing up. While he figured out what he wants to do while moving on, he’d be in charge of organizing and playing music for the souls checked in. Sing even if requested, especially by the women who are charmed by his attractive looks.

He was a literal old soul, jazz being his favorite genre. Most of the time, he played Chet Baker or Frank Sinatra when it’s his shift at the bar. He was known for always showing his best and happy-go-lucky sides to everyone.

It took him a few years to start opening about his life, longer than most souls. But maybe because the trauma of it all stung. One night, when he, Doyoung, and Kun weren’t working, he mixed a few cocktails and completely fell off the radar.

“I was a part of a duo with one of my best friends, Hongseok. It was really fun to perform and make music with him, but then he suddenly got into drugs and had a ton load of groupies. I-I just couldn’t do it anymore with him if he wasn’t going to stop. Once I cut off ties with him, I was signed by a class A producer who loved my compositions. He even got me all sorts of opportunities to perform on TV, and I was so excited for it. But one week until I made my official debut, Hongseok reached out again with apologies, wanting to meet up so we can fix ties. I was hesitant, but I still give him the benefit of the doubt because we go way back….” He confessed, puffing out smoke from his cigarette and putting it down on the ashtray. Before he continued his story, he scoffed with profanities.

“That bitch. I fucking trusted him! I was too good to give him another shot. So after practice, he sent me an address to his apartment or so I thought. We were having drinks, just like old times. But something felt off feel when my mind started feeling hazy and I started coughing continuously because my stomach ached like crazy. He asked me if I was fine, and I told him I was. Then suddenly, baam!” He crashed his hands on the table, shocking the hell out of his two companions.

“Holy fuck, Jaehyun.” Kun cursed under his breath. Doyoung nudged him the shoulder to mind his language.

“The deities are watching you, Kun. Let Jaehyun-ie continue.”

So he did. “There I was, standing beside my dead body while Hongseok rummaged with surgical gloves through my bag to steal my notebook of songs. He planted cocaine on the table where I conversed with him, and also in front of my face. Beside my glass, he laid the vial of poison he used and called the cops. With fake tears, he cried on the phone saying that he came home to my dead body and a suicide note.”

Stillness between the three of them was filled with betrayal and disappointment. For a so-called friend, this must be the worst thing you can do to them. To lessen his suffering, Jaehyun brought back his actively lit cigarette and smoked it until all the tobacco was gone. Exhaling a dark grey smoke, he spat out.

“I-I couldn’t believe it, hyungs. I lost everything after making the wrong decision of seeing him. And now, he signed under that label that found me to “give honor to my talent”. How tragic that I suddenly took my life he’d say, oh bullshit! You took away my life because you were jealous!”

Kun decided to call it a night, requesting Yukhei who’s on duty to take Jaehyun’s upcoming shifts so he could calm down. Escorting his intoxicated figure out so the other guests won’t feel bothered, Doyoung contemplated if he wanted to forward another case to you. You’ve been getting so much workload lately, according to Kun, because your success rate is high and highly in demand.

“What happened to Jaehyun?” Manwol showed up from behind, sitting across him. “Did he finally tell his story?”

Doyoung mildly groaned, devastated by it. “He did, and it breaks my heart. He’s still so young, like me.”

“What are you going to do about it?” Manwol stirred the spare cocktail, ingesting it in one go. “Is it another case worth forwarding to (Y/N)?”

“If it helps Jaehyun move on, possibly. I know it’s hard to find staff these days, Manwol. Also, she’s stacked already. I don’t know if she’ll take it.”

She snickered, patting his shoulder. “You know if it’s from you, it becomes her priority. She loves you that much, you know.”

“I know, but I wish I could help her. In person. I would’ve been a lawyer and taken Jaehyun’s case if I were alive. Murder in the first degree, false reporting to the police, stealing, his persecutor is insane and still walking free.”

The fire of passion in Doyoung wasn’t new to Manwol, nodding as he spoke. He was capable of a lot of things, but the world just wasn’t ready to see it. She was more concerned at how the deities will react when he engages in human affairs again. Even if it helps a lot of ghosts move on, it’s highly discouraged to interfere with the living world. It’ll ruin the entire flow of the world.

Doyoung already knew what he got himself into, but it’s one of the few ways he still feels relevant. Always in service for anyone who needs it, dead or alive. If the deities take him away, it’s no joke that it’ll be a riot in the entire hotel.

“In that case,” Manwol’s piercing eyes scanned right at him, filling up his glass with vodka. Second to Doyoung, she grew a fond liking to Jaehyun. She never knew how much he’s been hiding during his stay. “Forward it no matter what. End his murderer’s career at all costs.”

Doyoung smirked, lifting his glass high to clink with hers then chugging it one go.

“I’ll investigate first with Kun to know more about Jaehyun’s life, then we’ll look for someone who wants to testify for Jaehyun to meet with (Y/N).”

Amid the craze and problems in the hotel, at least Doyoung was at ease with how successful his family. Areum became a well-known author for fairytales, got married, and had 3 kids of her own. She most definitely didn’t live down to Doyoung’s promise.

“Is he a nice guy?” Doyoung inspected the man who married his only daughter. It felt like yesterday they played around in the carnival room.

“He is, Doyoung. Intelligent and caring, nothing to worry about.” You calmed his shaking leg, resting your head on his shoulder while you watch the fireflies from the campfire set prepared by the deities.

“I’m just looking out for her, you know.”

“She most definitely does know, even telling stories about us to her kids. Our grandchildren.”

“It’s hard to believe that we’re technically old when we’re always young in these dreams.”

“Maybe it’s just you being used to your youth. Meanwhile, aging is beating my ass every day.” You joked, covering yourself up in the blanket you shared. Doyoung’s bottom lip jutted out, huffing at your mean comments.

“Yah, you take that back.”

“Make me.” You fired back, riling him up.

Doyoung in the dream attacked you by tickling your sides mercilessly. Your body uncontrollably arched back and forth, falling back to the blanket you sat at. He took the advantage to pin you down, gripping on your arms to the side. With his face near yours, you closed the gap with a cheeky kiss. His touch softened, allowing you to pull him lower by his collar. Your lips molded together in every movement, feeling his tongue lick your lower lip for entrance. You freely gave in, moaning filthily.

“Didn’t even have to test me like that, my love.”

How you wished this was longer, if it weren’t for the fast fading out, and morning has arrived again. A short-lived euphoria, yet it left your panties drenched under the covers. The arousal still ran in your veins.

“Kim Doyoung, you tease.”

Back to your real life, aside from bravely taking on controversial cases, there was a thrill in every case you did and it showed by your fast-paced talking and hand gestures. Whether you won or lost, mostly the former, knowing that you helped someone made your life more meaningful.

He often forgot how you’re a grandmother during your dream calls already as time flows differently within the living and the dead. They were the only way you can be youthful and energetic. But with your actual body, it began to weaken.

Early 1990s

Nature decided to take heavier measures on you physically. On one of the monthly visits to the doctor, she noticed something off with the checkup and tests. Especially in the chest area.

“Ms. (Y/L/N) (Y/N), I’m afraid that you have a growing lump in your breast.”

“Are you saying what I’m thinking?”

“If breast cancer is one of those though, then unfortunately yes.”

Areum was by your side that day, tearing up at her announcement. You, on the other hand, remained still and nodding at the truth. You’ve fought for a lot of things in your life, and you were so determined to beat this one.

Chemotherapy, medications, and scans are tiring and draining, but you managed to live for 2 more years. You’ve fully retired, and now and then, mentor the juniors with their cases. You’ve traveled to as many places as you can before the stages of cancer rose.

In your last months of life, you were bedridden in the most expensive hospital in Seoul, getting visits from Areum with her family, Jungwoo and Taeyong. As the latter served as definite friends to Doyoung, it was only natural to befriend them when they came into your life post-war. They supported Areum in any way they can too.  They’ve become a great company in your boring life especially in the hospital. Nowadays, Jungwoo loved sharing stories about his hyper grandchildren, who share similar traits to him, while Taeyong excitedly talked about his recent investment with a promising music company with the dream to debut talented individuals and go international in the long run.

“Mr. Lee Soo Man is dedicated to it! He hopes that next year, all his plans can start and be executed.”

“You’re always investing in start-ups, you know? You think this one will be bigger than the rest?”

“Music is universal, you know. Language barriers may be there, but music brings us together.”

Taeyong was always a delight to catch up with. However, you didn’t expect that conversation would be your last with him. A few days later, he suffered a sudden heart attack and passed. This was a sign that your time was coming. Your body falling more and more feeble every day as the disease fully took you over at night, the monitors always going on a high every so often.

It’s only a matter of time before you leave this life, and looking back, you’ve lived a tough yet productive life. Your daughter was happy and thriving in her career and family. You helped families and couples from their abusive households. You defended those with loved ones who were murdered, robbed, and lied to. You ticked off all you wanted to do beforehand.

Areum made sure to visit that night specifically as soon as she could. With your recent test results have been failing, her gut feeling kept insisting.

It’s a good thing she did.

Meanwhile, it was another day of work for Doyoung, just returning a bunch of books in their respective shelves after some teenagers left on the table. Before that, he bid Taeyong goodbye in the tunnel. It’s always nice to see a familiar face, so he couldn’t miss out on it. He shared any life stories he had with you, updating him about your state. Doyoung knew about it beforehand, and as selfish enough to look forward to it, it pained him to know you’re suffering. He only hoped you could fight through it.

“Doyoung-hyung!” Someone suddenly shouted, but he was shushed by an old lady reading her romance novel, who pointed at the sign that read “Keep quiet in the library”.

Doyoung was also annoyed, instantly nagging on the point person. “Kun! Can you read the sign? Jeez, this isn’t the first time so please-”

“(Y/N) is going off the monitor.” He blurted out. The news from one of the nurses he befriended buzzed through his phone. After finding out about his story, he wanted to help Doyoung especially when he was still alive. Doyoung may a part of the staff, but he’s still a guest. He dropped everything in his hands. Before he could race to the hospital, he changed into a specific outfit for this occasion.

This was it.

Areum was the only one by your side of your hospital bed, weeping due to your weak state. You didn’t want your other family members to witness this crucial moment. It stung that you’ll miss out on the futures of your grandchildren, but you were satisfied to just be a part of their lives. All this machinery trying to sustain your life served its purpose, but the illness you’re fighting was stronger.

“Mom....” Areum sniffled in her handkerchief, holding on to your boney hand. “I’m not ready for you to go.”

“Oh, Areum.” Your thumb caressed her soft palm as reassurance. “You grew up so well. An independent woman you are, you are so loved.”

“Mom, please....” She begged. “I can’t lose you too.”

You will never know how Areum held in her sorrow of not being able to grow up with her father. She hated the feeling of being fully abandoned. She wanted things and people to return to her, but she can’t make that choice. Being by her side all her life, losing you will be the hardest struggle she’ll have to face.

“Areum, you must understand...” You paused as a pang of pain in your chest stabs you. After a minute of enduring it, you continued. “...We are put on this world for a specific time. And if we’re called to leave, we must face it.”

She whimpered whilst holding on to your hand. She really thought you can get through this one like the rest, but your hair has gone, your body lost much weight, and your eyes lost their light.

“Mom, are you happy? You’ve fought through so much to get where you are. I can never do what you did.”

“Y-Yes, I am.” You stuttered, gracing a promising smile. “I had you, our families, and your father watching over me..”

The dreams you get on your birthday were fairytale-like stories that pushed Areum to become an author. She denied how unrealistic and supernatural they were at first. Another trait of Doyoung she got. However, when she noticed how wider your smiles are and energetic you get in the mornings after rather the feeling of distraught, she reckoned to believe they were something special. Despite knowing your love story and its downfall, she felt exhilarated at the things you and her dad did there. In a way, it brings him closer to her. But she still had that void.

“I envy you for that, mom. I wish I met him or at least came to me even if I least expected it!”

Oh, little did she know about that time in the bookstore back in the 70s. It was not coincidental; you and Doyoung planned it very well. You just played along to her complaint, alerted that this wasn’t your story to tell at this time. “Forgive your father just this once, okay? He never wanted this kind of fate for any of us. If one thing stayed constant in those dreams, it’s him always asking how you are doing.”

Her tears become uncontrollable, allowing herself to get puffy eyes and let it all out. “When you see him, please tell him I’m sorry and that I love him no matter.” “Oh, Areum. He knows that, so don’t worry about it.”

The clock was ticking for Areum before she’ll be asked to leave. With you bringing up her father again, she had one last question. Her courage to ask it was so little when she was young in fear you sulk and break down. It hurt her when the bad parts of your past tormented you.

“How much do you miss him?” The question put you in a point of self-reflection. The only person you’ve opened up to talk about him in detail was Areum. Even with your friendships with Taeyong and Jungwoo, there were some things you never disclosed with them. And never did they force you to answer because they can read you on the back of their heads: you’re still heartbroken, yet remained devoted to him.

“I miss him so much that even if this became my fate for accepting his notebook back in our university days, I would foolishly do it all over again. In those times he was no longer with us, it taught me to appreciate what and who we have in our lives because tomorrow is never guaranteed. From his impact, I learned to take care of myself again so I can take better care of you. I’m grateful you were born; he left a piece of him for me.”

“You’ve suffered so much, mom. I hope you can rest peacefully.”

“Thank you for never leaving my side, Areum.” A few tears escaped your eyes, infectious to your daughter’s gloom. “I love you.”

Meanwhile, Doyoung was right outside viewing you and Areum sharing your last conversation and goodbyes. As much as he looked forward to reuniting with you, he didn’t want to leave his only daughter alone. The deities should have shown her more mercy. Still invisible, he observed how Areum trembled when she heavily closed the door of your hospital room. Covering her sobs with her handkerchief, she took one last look through the small glass of the door. You dove into a deep sleep that would then be unawakened.

“I hope your next life is happier than this, mom, and you can cross paths again with dad and grow old with him too.”

Doyoung’s urge to show himself to his daughter to console her was overpowering him, but he restrained himself this time. A few hours later, your consciousness was faltering. Your five senses were losing touch one by one. Important memories of your long life played in your mind. Then your heart gave in and stopped beating. The doctors present there have pronounced you dead. The transition from your body to your soul watching it be covered by a blanket by the nurses was swift yet strange. You didn’t know where to go and what’s next. No book prepared you for this nor can you ask the doctors what to do. Standing there lost with so many questions, it only took someone’s enthusiastic calling for your name to soothe you down.

“(Y/N)!”

It hit you instantaneously that when your day comes, Doyoung would call for your name. Your old age and past illness really affected your memories. He was an honest man and kept to his word this time.

And there he was, just along the hallway.

This was no longer a dream.

This novel kind of exhilaration got you moving your feet, still sore and slow because you were still an old lady.

“Doyoung!”

You shouted back, over and over again before your boney hands slid open the door. At the same time, your old figure drastically and permanently transformed you back to your active twenties. Nothing physically hurt anymore and your energy was on an all-time high. Your room was the last on the floor, a dead end. The left side of the hallway was just a closed window pane.

When you stepped outside and turned to your right, there he properly stood. He wore the same suit and suspenders combination on the day he approached you on your bike. The actual soul of Kim Doyoung who was no longer behind the phone. No matter how many times he’s seen you from afar, it makes him lose his breath from the captivation. For once, he can see you without barriers.

You just realized how you were dressed back into the floral dress on the day you had your first proper conversation. It’s like you’re meeting each other again for the first time. The beeping sounds of the monitors, wheelchairs moving, and chitter-chatter exchanged by doctors went mute. Stunned, you couldn’t stop looking eye to eye at him, cherishing this special moment.

It finally processed to Doyoung that his patience and efforts paid off. In this journey of acceptance, while enduring its trials, it added up to this sweet result to be reunited with you. The adrenaline rush took control of your limbs, legs running to him on the other side.

As his arms widened for a hug, he spun and picked you around in the air. His arms firmly wrap around your waist while your head snuggled on top of his shoulder. You felt safe, warm, and alleviated. Once he put you back down, the overwhelming joy wasn’t keen to pull away from your lover. Doyoung’s lips somehow got closer to yours, your heart skipping beats and his familiar scent intoxicating your thoughts.

With Doyoung still having you wrapped in his arms, he took his awaited chance to close into your parted lips. The fluttering in your stomach was on overdrive, your entire body reacting immediately from his passion. One hand curled into a fist on the hem of his buttoned top while the other rubbed the back of his head. Your legs almost gave in, but with Doyoung’s strength, he held you tight. No previous kiss felt like this. You didn’t have to worry about getting caught by adults for such a provocative display of affection. Your roommate wasn’t going to splash water if she catches you getting frisky on campus. As for Doyoung, he didn’t have to get paranoid about what his classmates would say about their relationship. You were both in your own world for a while.

But wanting to catch a breather from his thrilling dominance, your lips hesitantly moved away first. You took your time to get lost in admiring his features. Wet, swollen lips, flushed cheeks, his dazed eyes, he was irresistible, to say the least.

This was how an almost 50-year build-up would end up to.

“My love, it’s really you,” You finally spoke, caressing your thumb on his flushed cheek. “You’ve been through so much.”

As lovestruck as he is, his pent-up tears streamed down instantly. Except they were tears of joy. All those years he held back.

“I’ve missed you so much, (Y/N). I’m just happy you’re finally here with me.”

He wasn’t joking when he said that the main lobby alone was exquisite after walking through the city. Aside from Kun, that’s where he introduced you to other staff he worked with, such as Jeno, Jaehyun, and the boss herself, Manwol.

“This boy stayed very loyal, you know?” She commended Doyoung. It was a rare thing with her cold-hearted and aggressive personality. “He read to a lot of kids, taught some of them too, and recommended great books for the souls to read. He listened to a lot of souls who wanted justice then forwarded them to you so they can cross the other side.”

An honor to hear from the owner herself, you glanced at Doyoung with so much love. Such a giver than a receiver.

Beside Manwol was someone whom you aspired to meet. Unfortunately, you never met the other boys you’ve helped, so this was a great chance to see at least one before moving on. Hearing about his case and the treachery of it, you made sure to work on it before you retired, eventually passing it on to one of your trusted juniors. So far, his side was winning and that’s all you wanted.

“Jeong Jaehyun.” You held on to his clasped hands as he bowed to you.

“Attorney (Y/L/N). I’m so grateful for what you’re doing for me.”

“Oh, just call me (Y/N). By the way, your side is winning, my dear. Your younger brother Sungchan is committed to clearing up your name, and that evil Hongseok will rot in life imprisonment for his crimes.” You updated him. Without self-restraint, his arms gather you in for a hug. Jaehyun wasn’t much for affection, but this felt like the right circumstance. In return, you hugged him back.

“Thanks to you, Johnny and Yuta are resting in peace.”

“And you are next, Jaehyun. My junior taking your case is topnotch, so you’re bound to get what you truthfully deserve.”

After sharing such a heartfelt moment, you asserted your attention to Jeno. Not going to lie, you’ve looked forward to meeting this boy the most. He was there with Doyoung from the very beginning.

“Doyoung-hyung gets giddy after he makes a call, and tells me everything that you’ve been up to.” Jeno joined in. “He gets grumpy though too, so I like pestering him around to light him up. Oh, I’ll never know what you see in him, (Y/N).”

That gave him a joking slap on the shoulder by Doyoung, signaling to cut it out.  

“Hyung!” He fakely cried, hiding his face behind Jaehyun’s shoulder.

You suppressed a laugh, eventually sputtering out like an engine. Doyoung sighed, failing to redeem himself. But it’s alright. A simple peck from you on his cheek got him all flustered.

“Aish, take your romantic shenanigans when you’re in your room, not in my damn lobby.” Manwol cringed, the evident love bug getting on her nerves. “Alright, everyone. Get back to work!”

Checking in your room was an experience. Since you’ve been to numerous places through the dream calls, there was one main thing you’ve missed to do with Doyoung. As soon as he lifted you by your thighs and roughly shoved his tongue down your throat, you were in for a heated evening. This dominant side of Doyoung when it came to sex was completely fresh. After diving into more erotica over time, he learned about visual porn through Johnny and Jeno. You can say that he studied it very well.

“Almost 40 years of waiting, (Y/N).” He trapped you from above, sliding one of his hands to your bare breasts until it landed on your clothed core. Rubbing up and down your clit in a torturously slow place, he smirked at your desperate whines. Your breaths turned heavy, soaked by his actions. “Remember when I told you to brace yourself back then?”

“Shit, Doyoung...”

“Shush love, I’m in control now. So be a good girl for me, alright?” He growled in your ear, sucking on your soft spot on your neck. You obeyed that night, unbuttoning his shirt impatiently only to reveal his toned abdomen then lowering his crotch to give it a tight squeeze.

He hissed against your neck, pushing your panties to the side and sliding in your wetness.

“You are asking for it now, love.”

A steamy night it was, making up for all those lost years.

The following day, the struggle to walk was real. Jeno even pointed out your limping when you were roaming around the library Doyoung worked at. You never had a younger sibling, but he acted like one. So you punched him in the shoulder to shut up. “Jeez, you’re both so physical. Let me live!”

“Jeno, you’re dead. Don’t say nonsensical things.”

You learned how this hotel’s main purpose was to guide and fulfill the last wishes of ghosts in the living world before moving on. When Jeno asked you if you still have unfinished business, you realized that there is one thing left. Even if you completed your bucket list, that one thing is only possible through the hotel. You and Doyoung sat across Manwol, monitoring your shared dream call like she always did.

“Is this really the only thing you want to do here, (Y/N)?” Positively nodding, she gave you the signal to lift up the phone.

Areum found herself in an unfamiliar forest nearby a river during the day. Even she’s always like playing outside with nature in her childhood years, this location didn’t ring a bell. In fact, she was physically back to being that young girl with the same mature mind in this dream.

She wasn’t a vivid dreamer like yourself, forgetting them as so as she woke up. Even in that “dream” with her father, there were so many gaps. So for this one time, she can fully grasp her surroundings. This dream must have a purpose, she wondered.

While she followed the path that the dream assumed for her to take, she then clearly caught a glimpse of a younger you at the end of that path. Running around and laughing in the grass.

“Mom!” She called out, moving at a faster pace. It’s a good thing this dream brought her back her agility.

At the end of the path, it unveiled you lying down on the grass. Wearing in a dainty dress that reminded her of the 50s, there was an unfamiliar young man beside you. His head face planted on the grass because you pushed him off your body when he tried to tickle you.

It turned out that she arrived at your favorite spot with Doyoung. She’s only heard stories of things you’ve done and talked about her, but due to the war, their spot was devastated. Soon after, it turned into a small condominium building overlooking the river.

“Areum!” You squealed cheerfully to hear her much younger voice. She tackled you in a hug, and you still naturally felt it from where you sat.

“My sweet child,” You cooed in her, patting her back. “How are you?”

“It’s been difficult, but I’ll get by in time.” That was the first thing she managed to say, the grief being very much fresh. No mother wants to be separated from her child, and you weren’t exempted. But that is how life works: you come then you go. The truth tends to hurt.

It was obvious to Doyoung that you were still saddened by leaving Areum, taking this opportunity to give you space and finally interact with his daughter. No disguises nor distance. While the most important women in his life are still hugging in the dream, he pulls himself off from the grass and brushes away some leaves from his hair.

“Areum, I see you paid me back by having top-selling books for children.”

Areum peeked from your shoulder to check who the other man was by your side talking to her. Once he was clean from dirt and leaves, there was the only person he resonated with her. From pictures and stories shared by you, the actual man was with her.

Her actual father was in this dream with her.

“Dad!” She abruptly pulled away from you to approach her father for a bigger hug. You don’t blame her for that, she deserved to see her father even for a bit.

Years of having that empty void only for her biological father, she could care less at this very moment

Doyoung has never cried in a dream call with you, however, this long-awaited moment with his daughter resulted in him softly bawling while feeling her hugs from the chair. He’s proud and at peace to move on not just as your lover or a passionate university student, but as a father.

In their moment of content, only there did it make complete sense to Areum at the unusual memory during the ‘70s at the bookstore wasn’t random. It proved that he really did his best to reach out to her in any way he could.

“This whole time, you were the mysterious tokki. I just thought it was a coincidence. I’m so sorry, dad, that I didn’t notice you.” She sulks. Doyoung in the dream pats her back while lovingly rubbing the nape of her head.

“Oh, Areum. Don’t feel bad. I just wanted to see how much my little girl became independent and studious.” He replies, comforting the disheartened child. “I read all the letters you sent me during my birthday. I was touched then and touched now for this moment. I am proud of you, my daughter. And my love for you never changed.”

The affirmation in his words put Areum in a state of joy, rekindling that spark from the 70s. “I love you, dad.”

Your last mission in this world was to have a special outing with your complete family. Regret was always prevalent in the past, wanting to do this and that but never pushed through. But not in this dream. Just the three of you, happy and carefree from it all.

Unfortunately, Manwol just gave a hand signal that your time was almost up. Time flies by so quickly when you’re fully immersed in something you’re enjoying. Doyoung wasn’t capable to bear the bad news, but with you by his side, you helped him.

“Areum, it’s time for us to go.”

Areum sighed, reality seeping back into the situation. One sleep isn’t enough to make up years of loss. However, she still managed to remain positive in those circumstances. “I wish things worked out differently for our family, but who knows what our next lives will take us?”

In an instant, the two of you in the dream gave your daughter a big group hug. One she’s always yearned for. It’s moments like this where you mustn’t take anything for granted with your family.

“I’m happy you’re reunited with each other, mom and dad. Rest well.” She whispers with a smile, feeling fulfilled. She can grace the living world without wondering how things would be like with a complete set of parents anymore. This dream call successfully filled that empty void in her heart.

Once you’ve bid your final farewell and hung up the phone, you and Doyoung can say the same. A little bittersweet, but it lightened all the burdens in your hearts. The both of you can ultimately rest peacefully and move on.

The timing was perfect for Kun to inform you that the car taking you to the bridge leading to the afterlife was ready.

Jeno, Manwol, Kun, and Jaehyun didn’t want to miss out on this moment, waving farewells to you both. This lifetime may have taken you away from each other physically for a long time, but you still held on to each other. Most people gave up, though it’s not wrong either. It’s better to let go rather than holding on sometimes.

But the both of you were different, something, not even the deities didn’t expect. It’s only up to them to decide if they’ll give you another chance to be together and relive a longer life. A very rare sight indeed. To be granted or not, your story set a standard.

That a love so strong is so patient it endured all the challenges and stress.

“On to the next life, Doyoung?” You asked him, leaning against his shoulder as the car drove under the tunnel. All at the end of it was merely a white sky, where a long bridge awaited them.

“Make sure you wait for me this time.” 

[wizkiddx]

Heey, first of all yeeah to 500 followers!! You deserve them 🎉 I was wondering if you still do the celebration and could write something for #2 neck kisses with Tom. Thanks and have an awesome day 😊

so sorry but i completely lost this in my inbox so sorry its so late!!!! also this is kinda a Father’s Day one too (except im half a week too late but hey ho)

summary: soon to be dad!tom predicts your babies gender

kissing prompts 2 = neck kisses

///////////////////////

Your day had been a pretty mundane one. Just a typical Saturday of getting shit done - involving cleaning the bathrooms and then putting a wash on. It was a set of jobs you'd normally share with your fiance, except he had been out golfing all day.

To be fair, he had earned himself the day off. Ever since you'd found out you were pregnant - the boy had barely let you lift a finger. Especially after you'd passed the 24 weeks landmark, now that the baby bump wasn't so much a bump, and more a fucking volcano sprouting out your belly.

For once the British weather was actually pretty decent, meaning you opened all the patio windows to allow the ribbons of golden light to stream into your living room. In your own little world, you stood by the table and hung up baby grows on the airer. Yes, it was a bit early to be laundering the baby's clothes, but both you and Tom couldn't help yourselves. Last week, when you went shopping for Nikki's birthday - instead the both of you had got distracted by the newborn section.

Tom made a quiet entrance into the house, so much so you hadn't noticed the door open as you softly hummed an old Beatles tune whilst reaching for the following soft grey striped onepiece.

He hadn't been in the best mood when walking through the door. The round had not gone his way, he'd ended up 6 shots above his standard handicap whilst Harry had got his PB. Pissed was an understatement - Tom had turned down the pub after, which meant he was absolutely fuming. Instead, he just wanted to come home and have a shower and forget about everything.

All of that kind of melted away though, when he rounded the corner of the hallway - the sight stopping him dead in his tracks.

You, standing side on, your outline a silhouette to the evening sun filtering through the doors. The light effect made you look ethereal, as well as exaggerating your bump evermore. And then you were holding up this tiny looking babygrow in front of you. It was inexplicable but, at that moment, literally nothing else mattered to Tom.

Of course, you eventually caught him staring, a soft smile growing on your face after you'd turned to pick another baby grow up. All it took was that one look for all the tension in his body to fizzle away. Immediately Tom took the steps towards you, hugging you from the back and propping his chin on your shoulder, whilst his hands slipped under your bump.

"Thought you said it was too early to get the baby stuff ready?"? He whisper- chuckled, making you roll your eyes. Because it was his puppy dog eyes begging you to let him by the 12 babygrows the other weekend.

"Shhhhh would you just look how small they are!" You gestured as you shook out another damp babygrow in front of him.

"Just imagine…" Tom spoke very quietly as he reached round you to take the little onsie out of your hands. He then lifted up the hem of your cotton vest top, laying the outfit on your exposed belly. "Someday soon they'll be outside your stomach like this."

The action, of him holding the cotton fabric over your belly, had everything feeling a lot more real all of a sudden. You were seriously going to have a baby.

It made you let out a little gasp, which Tom only chuckled at, pressing himself closer against your back. "You only just realised that love?"

"No I- ooh" You were about to violently defend yourself from Tom's laughter, except you were distracted by a slightly uncomfortable pressure on your stomach. Instantly you moved your hand over Tom's and pressed down on the area, so Tom could feel the little butterfly kicking through the babygrow.

"I think baby likes her outfit" You giggled, whilst now it was Tom's turn to hold in an unconscious breath. He slowly pressed around the outline of the protruding limb, which your baby kept returning as if high-fiving him.

"Oh my god she just fist-bumped me!"

"Or he!!!" You laughed, shaking your head against the top of his.

"Nah it's a girl I can sense it." He whispered, though very much not concentrating on anything except the little game he played with the baby in your stomach.

"Spidey sense?"

"Nope… special dad instincts." This time he spoke against your jaw, before peppering your bone with short pecks. "Mhm…." Tom spoke as he worked his way downward, poking his nose in the crook of your neck "I love my girls so much."

"Or boy!" You indignantly interjected, earning you a huff from Tom as he stayed softly nipping the sensitive skin just above your collarbone.

He was attempting to get you lost in the feeling, and boy was it also it working. Letting your head loll to the side to give him better access, you exhaled deeply, bringing your right hand round the back of both of you to trail through his brown curls. He was still a little sweaty from spending all evening in the summer sun- which reminded you.

"How was golf, by the way?" All you received was a mumbled 'doesn't matter' back, which in itself answered your question very well.

"That means you lost?" Giggling at his schoolboy attitude to defeat, Tom groaned, then even harder when you spun in his hold, so now you were facing each other - his hands still holding the baby grow on your bump between the both of you. This way you could see him, and he wasn't ever able to hide anything when your innocent gaze was on him.

"-sn't my fault" He pouted, big brown eyes looking so profoundly at you that some might even find the intensity scary. "My club broke anyway, so it wasn't a fair game."

That made you cock your head to the side. Really? A club just spontaneously breaking? You'd seen the bank statements; you knew how bloody much Tom invested into his club collection. They definitely shouldn't e flimsy and snapping spontaneously at their price point.

"The club broke orrr you broke the club?"

"The club was involved in an unfortunate accident; a tree collided with it."

You had to laugh at how Tom explained how he had taken his anger out on a tree. Tom returned your humour with an eye roll - not much enjoying being caught out.

It didn't last long, though, as and harsh jab interrupted you with an 'ooof'. It came from inside you and even Tom winced at how hard the little munchkin inside you kicked your side, right over where Tom's hands were resting.

"I think that's baby's way of telling you off for having a temper tantrum." Once recovered, you had to grin again, rubbing the skin with Tom's hand to ease the subsiding ache.

"Is it not too early for her to realise exactly who's in charge?" He grumbled, referring to the fact that you both knew Tom was wrapped around yours and soon to be babies fingers.

"Or him!".

To shut you up, Tom finally gave you the welcome home kiss, still with his hands holding the babygrow on your bump. Excited, if terrified, to be yours and your baby's bitch boy for the rest of his life.

~~~~let me know what you think, recently been finding acc writing v difficult so sorry if this aint great~~~~~~

taglist: @crossyourpeter@euphorichxlland@hallecarey1@hollandfanficlove@hollandlover19@hunnybunimdun@lovehollandy12@msmimimerton@pandaxnienke@fernandasantana @thegirlwiththeimpala

[hangovercurse]

Don’t Be Sorry

In which Y/N’s past catches up to her... and Colson

Reader x Colson Baker

Warnings: Abuse (Graphic), cursing, violence.

A/N: Seriously, it gets detailed. If you are uncomfortable with domestic abuse/ violence then this is not the fic for you. If you are a victim of abuse, there are resources available for you. The National Domestic Violence Support Hotline is 1-800-799-SAFE (7233). 

Word Count: 2352

masterlist

“To good music and good friends” Colson shouted over the noise of the crowd. The group raised their glasses in a toast before downing the shot. “Now let’s fuckin party!” 

It was your first time out in a while. You liked to pretend it was because you were too busy. I have a job outside of writing music with you, you would always remind the older boy. But truthfully, you weren’t as attached to the party scene as your friends and did whatever you could to avoid them. 

But when Colson asked, well begged, you to go out with them to celebrate finishing Hotel Diablo you couldn’t say no. Colson’s face when you said yes almost made you excited. Almost.

But now on the crowded rooftop of a club you’d never been to in an outfit that was all too tight and all too short, you wished you’d made up an excuse to stay home. Luckily your friends made you forget your unease. 

“Y/N, watch me drink both of these beers in 10 seconds!” Rook shouted, holding two bottles in his hands. You laughed, shaking your head slightly at his antics and pulling out your phone to time him. 

“Ok, go.” You said as he brought the bottles up to his mouth, chugging both in an astounding 9.75 seconds. “Dude that’s insane.” You showed him the timer and he cheered, dragging you to the bar. 

“I’m getting you a drink, whaddyu want?” Rook asked as he waved down the bartender. “Rum and coke?” He questioned, knowing your order by heart at this point.

“How’d you guess.” You asked with a smile on your face. 

“It’s a talent.” Rook laughed, arms flailing as he bowed dramatically. 

The pair of you got your drinks and returned to your group in the middle of the dance floor. When you got back Slim dramatically held out his hand for you to dance with him, and you guys jumped around to the music. 

The drink in your veins made you a little more comfortable. it wasn’t enough to get you into any trouble, just enough to loosen you up for a good time. As the group laughed at AJ’s terrible dance moves, you felt a chill come over the room. 

As the rest of your friends smiled and laughed, you looked around the dance floor, trying to find anything, or anyone, out of place. Unfortunately for you, you were much shorter than the men around you, so you couldn’t see much. 

Colson noticed you weren’t really with the group, and he followed your gaze around the room, leaning in close to you. “Everything ok?” He asked.

“Yeah, I just have this weird feeling.” 

He laughed, “drink too much?” 

You gave him a pointed look and then chuckled to signify you were joking. “No, I just, I don’t know how to explain it. I just have a bad feeling about something.” 

“Ok, well just don’t leave my side. I’ll keep you safe.” He winked at you and you rolled your eyes, but you appreciated the sincerity in his statement. 

Colson and you had been friends for years, but after your last relationship ended... roughly (to put it nicely), he let you stay at his place for a while until you got back on your feet. Since then you’d gotten closer to the tattooed man and come to trust him implicitly. 

You refocused on your friends, watching Pete and Baze racing pints of beers, with Baze winning (for obvious reasons). You laughed as Pete hung his head in shame. He scrunched his nose at you. “I don’t see you chugging anything.” 

This only made you laugh harder, “I don’t think what you were doing is considered “chugging.”” You made air quotes as he put on a mock hurt expression. 

“Y/N’s up next!” Slim shouted and your eyes went wide. 

“Oh hell no, man. I leave that shit up to you guys.” You smiled as he shook his head profusely. 

“Nope, you gotta do it. Rook’s already getting the beer.”

You hung your head, knowing there was no arguing with Slim. “Fine, but I’m gonna lose and then I’m gonna be mad. So if I’m mad, its your fault.” You shook your head as the boys howled. 

Rook came back with two beers in his hand, handing you one. “I’ll give you a head start.” Slim smiled.

“Fuck no, man.” You said before bringing the beer to your lips, chugging the drink. Slim was taken off guard and ended up starting a few seconds after you, which was all the advantage you needed. 

You raised your hands in victory as AJ picked you up in celebration, the boys cheering for you as Slim hung his head. Once you landed back on your feet, Rook threw his arm around your shoulders, “Y/N is the fuckin bomb.” 

You loved this feeling, you loved being surrounded by your friends who loved you. You giggled as he leaned into you, making you stumble under his weight. 

“Oh look, Y/Ns surrounded by all her little man-whores.” His voice sobered you up instantly and made every bone in your body tense up. You looked up to Colson for support, but he was already focused on the man behind you. 

“Not even gonna look at me, damn. You’re really that much of a bitch, huh? Not even gonna say hi?” His voice was like poison in your veins. Every word he spoke reminded you of the last time you saw him. You subconsciously reached up to your neck, rubbing your throat.

“Get the fuck away from her dude.” Colson said shortly. You tried to catch his eye. You wanted to beg him not to make a scene, to just take your hand and leave. But it was too late for that. 

“And who the fuck are you?” Jason, your ex-boyfriend, moved towards Colson and into your view. You flashed back to the night in his living room, his back facing you just like it was now, before he turned around and-

Luckily, Rook’s hand squeezing your shoulder pulled you from your thoughts. You turned to look at him, his head cocked and his eyes questioning. You simply shook your head at him. You looked back to Colson who was seething. You caught Pete’s eye behind him and mouthed, we need to leave.

Pete nodded, grabbing Colson’s arm lightly, but the blond only shook off his friends grasp. 

“Hey, there’s this really cool music store down the street that’s still open, we should go check it out.” AJ said, his eyes trained on you. Thank god for AJ.

“Yeah, that sounds like a great idea.” Pete said, “Colson let’s go check it out.” 

You could see Jason���s face change when he figured out who the blond man was. “Yeah, Colson, why don’t you take your bitch and get out of here.”

“Don’t fucking call her that.” Colson moved closer to him and your eyes widened in fear. 

“What? A bitch? That’s what she is, a slutty fucking bitch.” With every word, Jason moved closer to your friend until the two men were almost touching. Tears stung your eyes as you flashed back again. 

“You stupid fucking whore. Who the fuck do you think you are? Fucking around with some asshole rapper! Did you forget you fucking belong to me?”

His words still rang in your mind. You could feel your body begin to shut down, your lungs gasping for breath just like they had that day. 

You were brought back to reality by the screams of protest as Colson pushed your ex-boyfriend away from him, causing Jason’s fist to make contact with Colson’s jaw. 

“You think you can get away with making me look like an idiot? I’m your fucking boyfriend, not him.”

Jason’s fist made contact with your left cheek and your knees failed to hold you up. The man caught you before you hit the ground, leaning forward to pin you against the wall behind you. 

“Y/N, c’mon, let’s go.” Rook’s arm fell to the small of your back as he escorted you through the crowd, Slim following you. You made your way down the stairs, the two boys helping to support your weight. 

“I’m gonna make you remember who you belong to.” 

Jason pinned your arms above your head as he pressed you further into the wall. His free hand made its way up your chest to your throat. His soft grasp turned into a squeeze around your neck. 

“Jason please-”

You tried to talk, but few words could come out. You struggled for air as his eyes grew darker and darker. 

“You think you can go and fuck around with whoever you want, don’t you?”

You shook your head, but he continued.

“You’re a goddamn slut, and you need to learn your lesson.” 

Your vision began to blur.

“Y/N, you okay?” You came back to reality to find yourself in the alley between the club and the neighboring building. Slim was standing in front of you, Rook to your side as you leaned against the wall behind you. 

You shook your head in response and he let out a sigh. Suddenly the door slammed open and you flinched at the noise. 

“I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

You kneed Jason as a last resort before you lost consciousness, and now you were running through the house. You ran into the bathroom, locking the door behind you and pulling your phone from your pocket, not even noticing the new crack in the screen. You searched for the first name you could think of.

“Colson?”

“Colson, take a breath, man!” AJ yelled as he followed the tall blond man outside. 

Colson was pacing a few feet away from you as you tried to focus on breathing, your hand subconsciously reaching for your neck again, as if you were trying to pry his invisible hand off of you. 

Pete moved in front of you, taking in your state of fear. Other than Colson, Pete was the only one who had any idea about your ex. He didn’t know the whole story, only that it ended violently. 

“Hey, you okay?” He asked, keeping his distance as he leaned against the other wall across from you. 

You sniffled and wiped your face, nodding quickly as you realized most of your friends- save for Baze and Colson- were watching you. “Sorry guys- he’s just an ex. He’s kind of an asshole.” 

“Really kid? We couldn’t tell.” AJ tried to joke, and you cracked a small smile, trying to convince them you were ok. 

Your breathing started to slow, and you felt yourself coming down from your panicked state, until you caught Colson’s fist making contact with the wall of the club.  

“Open this fucking door bitch!”

Jason’s fists beat against the door- the only thing standing between you and him.

“He’s gonna kill me Cols. I’m so scared.”

Your sobs rang through the phone as the banging intensified. 

“He can’t save you now, bitch! Not such a big man now, are ya? Colson!”

“Colson!” Baze berated the blond man, who recoiled in pain. “Get your shit together, bro.” He said, quieter.

Colson looked up at his friend and then past him to meet your eyes. His blue orbs softened at the tears in yours. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He whispered, walking over to you. 

He leaned forward against the wall you already occupied, his arms above your head as his head drooped down to watch you. You looked up at him, your hand reaching up to touch his face where Jason had made contact. 

He flinched when your skin met his, causing you to jerk your hand back, afraid he would yell at you for hurting him. 

“It’s okay, I was just surprised is all.” He whispered before grabbing your hand and bringing it back up to his chin. You ran your fingers over the forming bruise lightly, another tear falling from your eyes. 

“I’m so sorry.” You whispered. “I didn’t think he’d- I didn’t know...” You trailed off, looking down and dropping your hand from Colson’s face. 

“Hey, hey, hey.” He moved one hand to gently tilt your face up, leaning down to be closer to you, “Look at me. This was not your fault. Okay? You don’t need to be sorry for anything, babe. You did nothing wrong.” 

“I just- if I hadn’t called you that night-”

“You wouldn’t be here. Y/N if you hadn’t called me you could’ve been seriously hurt. He could’ve killed you.” 

You took a shaky breath in, sniffling. Colson sniffled too. “Y/N, this is nothing, okay? I would take a thousand more punches like this if it means that douchebag never comes near you again. I mean it. Don’t blame yourself for this, okay?” You nod, reaching your arms up to wrap around his neck as you bury your head into his shoulder, your nose pressed against his neck. 

His arms wrapped around you and you could hear his sniffles in your ear as his lips pressed against your hair. “Thank you.” You mumble into his neck, pressing your lips against the hot skin. 

“Hey! Get the fuck out of here! This isn’t some fucking party you can photograph. Fuck off with your cameras!” Pete yelled, causing you to release Colson and look towards the commotion. You briefly see a figure in the distance before a white flash blinds you. 

“Fuckin paps.” Colson whispered, his arms still wrapped around your waist. 

“Let’s get outta here, guys.” Slim says, leading everyone back into the club to leave through the back door. Colson interlocked your hand with his as you stepped into the building, keeping you as close to him as possible as you squeezed your way through the crowd. 

Once you loaded yourselves into the van, you leaned your head on Colson’s shoulder, your hands still interlocked. “Can I stay at yours tonight?” You asked in a whisper. Colson simply pressed a kiss to your forehead, his hand leaving yours to wrap around you and pull you closer to him.  

[beifongsss]

warmth [zuko]

Pairing: Zuko x reader

Requested?: yes!: “maybe running from fire nation and hiding in a cave with zuko? zuko and reader think they each hate each other but they rlly don’t 👀“

Summary: You and Zuko get separated from the Gaang and things happen :)

w.c. ~3.1k

.masterlist.

~

The day had started out normally.

You were the second person to wake up, Zuko being the first. You rubbed your eyes sleepily, crawling out of your sleeping bag and walking over to Appa, patting the sky bison before grabbing your bag and reaching for a peach that you had stuffed away. When peaches were present, Momo couldn’t be trusted. 

“You really take that whole ‘I rise with the sun’ thing to heart, huh?” you asked dryly, sitting across from the prince. He huffed lightly, crossing his arms before looking away. You smirked smugly, knowing that his silence meant that he couldn’t think of a comeback. 

The silence didn’t last long before Zuko turned back to you. “Spirits! Could you chew any louder?”

“I don’t know, let me try,” you replied, chewing obnoxiously. Zuko glared at you before standing and walking away, turning slightly so you couldn’t see the faint smile tugging at his lips. You stared after him, biting back a smile of your own. 

The group was already used to the banter between you and the scarred prince. It had started way before he joined the Gaang, back when he still had that god-awful ponytail and thought that capturing the Avatar would restore his honor. He had aimed a plume of fire just a bit too close to you and you had let one sly remark slip, your jaw dropping in shock when the prince responded in kind. 

Ever since then, you always made sure that you pissed Zuko off whenever you had an encounter. It was just too easy to rile him up. 

That didn’t change when he joined your side. If anything, it got worse. You didn’t miss a single opportunity to get on his nerves and eventually, Zuko found himself anticipating your remarks. It gave him a sense of normalcy. You didn’t treat him any differently than you ever had and as weird as it was to admit, he didn’t mind the attention you bestowed upon him. Of course, he couldn’t deny that you had really gotten on his nerves that one time he had lost his firebending. 

It was silent in the clearing after Zuko walked away, and you proceeded to make everyone breakfast. A while later, everyone emerged, mumbling a sleepy thanks as you handed them a bowl of rice porridge. The six of you sat in a circle around the small campfire, enjoying the small moment of peace you had. 

“Thanks for breakfast, (Y/N),” Katara said softly, smiling at you over the rim of her bowl. 

“Yeah! This is amazing,” Sokka said, tilting the bowl to get the last of the porridge into his mouth. 

“I thought it was a little bland,” Zuko commented off-handedly. Your eye twitched as Aang gave a nervous chuckle. Katara looked at you worriedly as Sokka tried to ignore Zuko’s comment. At your lack of response, Zuko smirked and opened his mouth yet again. “I’m certain that Momo could’ve made us a better breakfast.”

“Next time, make your own damn breakfast,” you snapped, slamming your bowl down onto the ground before turning to face Zuko. “Oh wait, that’s right. Poor little Prince Pouty doesn’t know how to do anything for himself!”

“At least I know how to control my temper,” Zuko shot back, glancing at your now-cracked bowl.

“Oh that’s rich coming from the guy who once set me on fire because I accidentally spilled some water on him!” you replied, remembering the unfortunate incident. You now had a very prominent scar on your leg as a reminder.

“Guys,” Aang called out. “Maybe we should save this for later.”

“Really?” Zuko asked, jumping to his feet. “What about the time you almost stabbed me because I accidentally stepped on Momo’s tail?”

“Hello? You stepped on Momo’s tail!” you cried out, jumping to your feet as well. “He hates you now!”

“Well at least Appa likes me,” Zuko said, thinking about the time Appa threw you off his back because you had accidentally yanked his hair. 

“Appa does like me,” you snapped, a groan emitting from the sky bison as he agreed with your statement. 

“Guys!” Aang yelled loudly, getting your attention.

“What?!” you and Zuko snapped in unison. 

“Look behind you,” Sokka said quietly, his boomerang ready in his hand. You whirled around to see a group of Fire Nation soldiers standing amongst the trees. A low hiss escaped you as you smacked Zuko’s arm. 

“See what you did?” you asked, your eyes never leaving the soldiers. “Your yelling led them straight to us.”

“My yelling?” Zuko scoffed, getting into a defensive position. “If I recall correctly, it was actu-”

“Guys!” Toph yelled angrily, sending the two of you a harsh glare. “Now really isn’t the time for this.”

You nodded sheepishly, readying yourself to fight as well. The six of you quickly realized you were outnumbered and realized that your best possible option in that moment was to escape. You all gathered up your supplies quickly, rushing towards Appa. A guard stepped in front of you suddenly, knocking you down before aiming a blast of fire at you. You rolled out of the way, leaping to your feet before sending a kick to his head and knocking him down. 

“Yip yip, Appa!” Sokka yelled, sitting at the reins. 

“Wait!” Katara cried. “(Y/N) is still down there!”

“What?” Sokka screeched, looking down at the ground as he tried to locate you. He noticed a group of soldiers trying to surround you as you fought them off. 

“Go!” you yelled, waving them away as you began to run the other direction. 

“We’re not leaving you!” Aang yelled, getting ready to hop off of Appa. 

“I’ll lead them away and then meet up with you,” you replied, rushing off. “I promise! I’ll be fine.”

You were gone before anyone could say anything else, disappearing into the trees as half of the soldiers followed you. The other half turned their attention to Appa, ready to attack. 

“Yip yip,” Sokka cried again, receiving disbelieving looks from everyone else. He gave them a shrug, trying to hide his worry. “She’ll be fine. She’s gone through worse. C’mon we can’t lose faith in her.”

The rest of the group nodded softly, sighing in relief as Appa left the ground. Their relief was cut short when Zuko leapt off of Appa, landing on the ground and kicking his leg to send out an arc of fire towards the remaining soldiers. 

“Zuko! What are you doing?” Katara yelled, looking over the edge of the saddle in a panic. 

“Go,” came Zuko’s rough reply. “I’ll stay with her. I’ll protect her.”

It was silent as the group watched Zuko sprint away. Appa didn’t stop and Sokka made no effort to bring the sky bison back down to the ground, watching as Zuko fought off each soldier effortlessly. He hummed lightly, drawing everyone’s attention to himself as he turned his attention back to the reins. “You know, I’m willing to bet five gold pieces that by the time we find them, they will have smooched at least twice.”

Toph grinned at Sokka’s statement, her fear of flying temporarily forgotten. 

“Oh you’re on, snoozles.”

~

You weren’t sure how you had managed to evade the soldiers for as long as you had. You were out of breath, panting heavily as you sprinted through the forest. Looking around, you knew you needed to find somewhere to hide. No matter how good at fighting you were, you knew that you couldn’t fight off all those Fire Nation soldiers. As you darted between the trees, your ankle got caught on a tree root and you went tumbling onto the ground. You groaned as you laid on the ground for a moment, opening your eyes to get a bearing of your surroundings. Your eyes narrowed when you noticed a gap in the cliff a few yards to your right. It would’ve been unnoticable from any other angle and you silently thanked your clumsiness for leading you to safety. 

“She went that way!” you heard a soldier shout. Biting back a gasp, you scrambled to your feet and sprinted to the opening in the cliff. You squeezed inside, pulling on some of the hanging vines around it to better conceal your location. You head faint footsteps coming your way and you stilled, crouching down to get a better look outside. 

Stifling a groan, you darted outside, grabbing the person by the collar of their shirt and dragging them back inside the cave with you. 

“H-Hey what’s your problem?” Zuko asked as you pushed him up against the cave wall. You shushed him softly, placing your hand over his mouth. His skin heated up under your touch and he froze for a moment before snapping out of it and grabbing your wrist, pushing you away from him. 

You stumbled slightly before landing on your butt, scowling at Zuko but remaining silent. You cocked your head to the side as you heard footsteps walking by. 

“We lost them,” a gruff voice said, sounding a lot closer to the cliff than you liked.

“They can’t have gotten far,” another voice replied. “We’ll set up camp in the clearing over there. The prince is too valuable to let go.”

A noise of agreement was made before the footsteps faded and you found yourself walking up to Zuko and pulling him down by the collar of his shirt. 

“What are you doing here?” you hissed quietly, still on edge. 

“Saving you, that’s what?” Zuko snorted, once again gripping your wrist and forcing you to let go of his shirt. 

“No! Now they’re going to hunt us,” you replied, turning around and walking away. “They would’ve given up sooner or later, Zuko. I’m not important. But now they won’t leave because you came after me!”

“So now you’re upset?” Zuko asked, whisper-yelling. “I took out half of those soldiers! You’re welcome.”

“Yes I’m upset. Now because of you, we’re stuck in here!”

Zuko’s eyes widened as he realized you were right. There was no way that the two of you could leave the cave, not with the Fire Nation soldiers camping out a few yards away. He cursed under his breath before observing you. You had walked to the other side of the cave, leaning against the wall and sliding down until you were sitting on the ground. He looked outside, noticing the sun going down and walked towards the entrance. 

“Where are you going?” you whispered, keeping your eyes on him.

“I’m going to get some firewood. I’ll be quiet.”

“Are you serious right now, Zuko?” you asked exasperatedly. “We cannot start a fire in here. They’ll see the smoke escaping through the entrance.”

Zuko paused for a moment, knowing you were right before walking over to you and taking a seat a few feet away from you. “It’s getting dark out. It’ll get cold soon and something tells me that Aang isn’t going to find us that quickly.”

You looked at the entrance to the cave, knowing that he was right. It was getting darker by the minute and without a fire, you were in for a cold night. Zuko watched your expression, getting a bit worried. As a firebender, he had no issue with the cold; but you weren’t a firebender and he was worried about you. 

Silence engulfed the two of you as night fell. The temperature fell ridiculously quickly and you found yourself curled up into a ball as you tried to warm yourself up. You shot a glance towards Zuko, scowling deeply when you noticed him lost deep in thought. He was sprawled out on the ground, not shivering at all as he stared up blankly at the ceiling. You rolled your eyes, looking away before hugging yourself even tighter.

“Can you stop your chattering?” Zuko asked suddenly, turning his head to look at you. “It’s quite distracting.”

You glared at him, shivering lightly. “I’m sorry, is me being cold inconveniencing you? Not all of us can firebend, Prince Zuko. And my teeth are not chattering!”

Zuko didn’t reply, instead standing up and walking over to you. You glanced up at him suspiciously, frowning when he took a seat right next to you. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close and avoiding your gaze.

“Zuko, what are you doing?” you whispered, unable to move your face from where it was buried into his neck. Zuko shivered at your words, keeping you tucked into him as he tried to control his blush.

“Keeping you warm,” Zuko replied. “What does it look like?”

“Why?”

“What do you mean?” Zuko asked softly, tilting back slightly to meet your eyes. You avoided his gaze, curling into him even more. He was exceptionally warm, and you felt yourself sinking into him to avoid the chilly air within the cave. Zuko’s arms tightened around you as he shifted, bringing you into his lap as he made himself more comfortable. 

“You hate me,” you whispered, still hiding your face from him. Your arms snaked around his waist, allowing you to dig your face into his chest and hide even more. 

“W-What? No I don’t!” Zuko cried, earning a shush from you. “If anything, you hate me.”

“N-No I don’t!” you exclaimed, pulling away slightly to look up at him. 

“Yes you do!”

“Why would I hate you?” you asked, looking at him with a bewildered expression.

“I don’t know!” Zuko said, a confused expression on his face. You thought he looked rather cute. “I get why you would hate me back when I was the bad guy, but I’ve changed! I thought that by now you would like me.”

“Zuko, I never hated you,” you replied. “Not even back when you were the ‘bad’ guy. You were always fun to banter with and I thought that you wanted things to stay that way.”

“What on earth gave you that idea?” Zuko asked, looking at you in shock.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that you always had something to say in return to my remarks,” you stated, looking at him blankly.

“Well you always start it,” Zuko accused. You paused for a second, knowing that he was right.

“Well you always reply!”

Zuko let out a frustrated groan. “That’s because you keep teasing me if I don’t.”

“Okay, but that’s becau- mmph.”

Your eyes went wide as Zuko pressed his lips to yours, effectively shutting you up. You froze for a split second, not believing that this was happening. Zuko pulled away, a smirk on his face as he took in your flushed face and dazed expression. 

“Not so mouthy now are y-”

This time it was you who cut Zuko off, pressing your lips to his almost feverishly. Your arms left his waist, coming up to wrap around his neck and pull him impossibly close. Zuko responded better than you did, immediately returning the kiss and angling his head just so in order to deepen it. You melted against him, causing Zuko to smirk into the kiss before he began trailing kisses down your neck. 

A gasp escaped your mouth as you felt him leave a mark on you before you tangled your hands in his hair, pulling his face back up to kiss him again. You couldn’t remember feeling cold anymore, the feeling of Zuko’s lips on yours and his arms around your waist erasing any thoughts about the chilly air in the cave. Now all you could feel was warmth. 

“In case it wasn’t clear, I like you,” Zuko muttered into your ear, pulling away from your lips for a second. You shivered at his words before leaning your forehead against his. 

“In case it wasn't clear, Prince Pouty, I like you too,” you teased, giving him a shy smile. Zuko snorted at the nickname before kissing you gently, a stark contrast to the way the two of you were kissing only minutes earlier. 

“Toph! They’re kissing!”

Sokka’s head was poking through the cave entrance, looking at the two of you in shock. In the midst of your confessions, the Gaang had found the Fire Nation soldiers and defeated them, knowing that you couldn’t be too far away. Toph had been the one to find the cave, using her seismic sense, but Sokka had insisted he be the first one to enter. 

“Aw man,” Toph called out, pushing Sokka out of the way and forcing her way into the cave. “How many times did you lily livers kiss?”

You and Zuko exchanged surprised looks before looking at your two friends embarrassedly. You were still in his lap, the two of you ridiculously close to one another. Overall, you had been caught in a very compromising position. 

“U-Uh, I don’t know,” you stuttered, avoiding Toph’s blank gaze. Even though she couldn’t see you, you knew she was judging you.

“We didn’t exactly keep count,” Zuko drawled. You slapped his chest. “But if you want we can add a few more.”

“No!” Sokka and Toph yelled in unison. Sokka covered Toph’s eyes as Zuko pressed his lips to yours, catching you off guard.

“I’m blind!” Toph grumbled, causing Sokka to look at her sheepishly.

“Oh, right,” Sokka replied, removing his hand and carrying Toph so that her feet were off the ground. “That’s better.”

“Just tell us if you kissed more than two times,” Toph said, hanging limply from Sokka’s arms. 

“Oh we definitely did,” Zuko said, a smirk on his face as you squeaked in embarrassment. 

“Ha! You owe me five gold pieces,” Sokka yelled triumphantly, accidentally dropping Toph. The small girl landed on the ground, scowling deeply at both having been dropped and losing the bet.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, Snoozles. If you need me I’ll be outside,” Toph grumbled, stalking out of the cave. You shared an awkward glance with Sokka, who had a large grin on his face as he stared at the two of you. 

“Uh, anything else you need?” you asked the Water Tribe boy.

“No,” he replied, the smile never leaving his face. “We’ll be waiting outside when you’re done. Have fun, but not too much fun.”

Groaning, you dropped your head onto Zuko’s chest. Sokka let out a loud laugh as he left and Zuko simply rolled his eyes before looking down at you. Using his index and middle fingers, he tilted your chin up, bringing your face up so that he could look at you. A bright blush spread across your cheeks as you met Zuko’s golden eyes, the urge to look away growing stronger as his gaze dropped to your lips. 

“Now, where were we?”

~

taglist!

@musicalkeys, @mywigglybaby​, @bubblebars​, @iguessthefloorislava​, @dekahg​, @boxofteenageideas​, @bottledcostcowater​, @butterflycore​, @coldlilheart​, @the-firebender-girl​, @ajediherowitchrunner​, @lammello​, @astroninaaa​, @samsmultifandomblogs​, @sadskater25, @oddment-niwit-blubber-tweak​, @eternallyvenus​, @emberislandplayers​, @sunflowerazula​, @moonnei, @stilllivindue2spite​,

[hangezoeenthusiast]

Totem of Undying

gn!reader

person: c!technoblade

word count: 1,852

warnings: blood, yelling, cursing, failed execution (art not mine, SAD-ist on youtube)

One day, you were pacing across Techno’s floor, wearing out the carpet, wondering were he was. He was gone for 9 days, and normally he isn’t out for that long.

He specifically said before his little expedition, “I won’t be gone long, I just got to get something for Phil.” “Ok, have fun honey.” you said, not looking up at him from your book. “You’re sure you don’t need anything?” he asked, trying to find a way to spend a little more time with you before he left. “Yeah, I’m sure, just tell Phil that I said hi.”

“Ok, bye my Aphrodite.”

Ever since, you haven’t gotten any messages on the comms, no messenger birds from him, or any sign of communication between the piglin hybrid and you.

“If he was going to Phil, then I should call Phil.” you murmured under your breath. How could you forget, he said he was going to get something for Phil, so he must be with him.

You looked for you phone, and called Phil’s number. “Hello, who is this?” replied on the other side of the phone. “Phil, is this you, I need to talk to you.”

“Oh hey Y/n, how are you doing?” “Not particularly well, um I have a question, is Techno there, he isn’t answering my calls.”

"Umm, well, he isn't here right now." he states, regret lacing his words. "Well where is he, it's urg-" Phil cut you off, "Y/n, you don't know?"

"What do you mean Phil?"

"I don't wanna say this, but he got captured by the Butcher Army." "Are you fucking kidding me, when he get caught?" you questioned. "IThey came to your house a few days ago, didn't you see them?" "No, I don't think so."

Then you suddenly remembered, “I think they might have came to our house. I was on a trip to get some spider eyes, so I guess that’s when they came over and got Techno.”

“Yeah, they haven’t come back yet, they tried to interrogate me, but I said no, and then they put an ankle monitior on me.” “They decided that if I wasn’t going to tell them anything, they would confine me to my house.”

You apologized to him, “I’m sorry Phil, hopefully you get that off soon enough.” “It’s fine Y/n/n, right now, what I’m concerned about is Techno. The Butcher Army built something, it’s a little cage with an anvil, I watched them build it, but it was kinda vague to me.” "I'm coming to L'Manberg Phil, I'll be there in a hour or so." "Ok, be safe."

-

You arrived in L'Manberg, looking for Phil's house. "Hey Y/n." he spoke. "Right back at you Phil, how are you doing today?" "I'm doing eh, I'm just worrying about Techno." "Me too, hopefully he turns up soon."

So then you stayed with Phil for a while, drinking tea and talking about random stuff. You were trying to buy your time until Techno popped up somewhere, preferably unharmed.

“Yeah Phil, there was-” Hooves stomped on grass, triumphant talking covering every sound outside. The people that cut you off was the Butcher Army, who was boasting their victory over their fight with Technoblade.

Techno, blood all over his skin, bruises on his face, barely showing any sign of his true skin tone. Chains rapping all over his body so he wouldn't escape. You felt devastated, what had they done to him? Behind them was Quackity riding Carl, holding him hostage so Techno couldn't escape on his steed. "What did they do to you?" you whispered under your breath.

They led Techno to the stage, when he looked up at you and Phil, suprise basking his face. "PHIL, PHIL, WHAT DID THEY DO TO YOU PHIL, Y/N, WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" he yelled from under you guys. "I'M FINE TECHNO, THEY PUT AN ANKLE MONITOR ON ME." Phil screamed back.

They dragged him away from the house, bringing him onto the stage. "LEAVE PHIL AND Y/N ALONE YOU HEAR ME, LEAVE THEM ALONE." he retaliated. They locked him in the cage, where he was waiting his impending doom.

"Technoblade, this is actually not a trial, if you look up, you can see an anvil hanging down. When we press that lever down there, what it's going to do is drop on you and it's going to fucking kill you."

After Quackity's little statement, he demanded Tubbo to explain to everyone what was happening, but what they didn't know was that there was an ally, or friend of Techno's that would help him sooner or later.

After Tubbo spoke about how Techno betrayed the country, and how he had to pay for his wrongdoings, Punz swooped in, throwing snowballs to distract the Butcher Army. With his armor clad self, he started to attack them, momentarily trying to buy time for Techno. He splashed potions all around himself and the Butcher Army.

Then he started to load up the stage with unlit TnT, sending a warning to the Butcher Army not to fuck with him. Quackity yelled in scaredness, hoping that Punz wouldn't light the TnT. "PUNZ, PUNZ, CHILL THE FUCK OUT PUNZ, CALM DOWN." Quackity begged. He didn't stop, and that lead to the whole Butcher Army attacking him with their axes.

While they were chasing Punz, they didn't realize that he slipped Techno a totem of undying. That's right, one of the only things that can prevent death if someone was to kill someone else. So when Punz left the scene, and Ghostbur came to the stage to secretly tell Techno that he named his sheep "Friend", they started to prepare for execution.

"Ok, no more, I'm pulling this fucking lever." Quackity stated. And there is was, he pulled the lever, and the anvil went crashing down on Techno's head. But Quackity didn't know that he had a totem of undying in his hand, so when the anvil came down on Techno, there was a flurry of green and yellow sparks all around him, protecting him from his death.

During the little show, Techno escaped the iron cage, and ran for his life. The Butcher Army was confused, why did Technoblade die, he was supposed to perish, right?

He ran to the little hole in the ground, and was meet by Dream, riding Carl. Dream started to block up the hole, while Techno rode Carl to victory. As he rode Carl, he reached a control room, where there was chests filled with stuff for specific people. There was Eret's, Tubbo's, his, and many others.

He looted his chest, put iron armor on, and started to prepare for his journey. He splashed potions onto his body, giving him strength for a few minutes, and swiftness. When he realized that the pathway wasn't large enough for both him and Carl, he started to break blocks so he and Carl wouldn't suffocate in the walls.

While he was doing that, Quackity sneaked up behind him, taking him by suprise. “Techno, you’re not leaving this place, how didn’t you die?”

“None of your business Quackity, how about you leave me alone.”

“You’re my business Techno, and as long as you’re alive, this server is going to go to shit.” And this the fight began, Techno only donning a pick axe for a weapons, and iron armor, and Quackity, with full netherite and all the tools you could ever need for a fight.

Their weapons clashed together into a disgusting sound. “I’M GOING TO DEFEAT YOU TODAY TECHNOBLADE.” shouted Quackity, thinking he was going to win. “NOT A CHANCE.” Techno answered.

Quackity was clearly arrogant in this matter, even though he had the good stuff, and Techno had the shitty stuff that would be easily broken, he forget something. He forgot that he didn’t have technique, and Techno was the great night Blood God. Technoblade could’ve easily, if he wanted to, take down an entire village.

But he didn’t, and that’s what Quackity didn’t realize. Yes, Techno did some shitty things in the past, but he declared that he was going to retire from the fighting, from everything that related to violence. It wasn’t necessary to try to execute him.

So when the final swing hit, Quackity with his ego to a high capacity, at almost half a heart, Techbo easily defeated and killed Quackity, taking one of his canon lives.

-

You paced across the wooden floor for 10 minutes. “Phil, is Techno ok, where is he, why isn’t he here right now, Phil-” you cut yourself off, “Phil, is he dead?” “No he isn’t Y/n/n, I know Techno, he’s still alive, trust me.” he assured you, trying to comfort your thoughts, but it wasn’t getting to you.

Techno had to be dead, an anvil fell on him. “But what was the green and yellow sparks, what was the reason for that?” you thought. Was that a distraction, or was it something more significant.

“Phil, are you sure he’s-” he interrupted you with a shush. “Do you hear that?” he asked, not sure what’s was happening outside of his home. “No, I don’t, what’s wrong?” “Stay here Y/n.” he ignored your question.

He sneaked toward the door, trying to quiet his footsteps. He slowly opened the door, looked around, and saw Techno standing there, covered in bloody armor. “Holy shit Techno, what are you doing here, they could come any minute.”

“I need Y/n for a second.” he calmly said, trying to ease Phil’s nerves. “Mate, what about the Butcher-”

“I killed their leader.” “Heh?” “I killed Quackity, unfortunately it isn’t permanent.” he sighed. “Ok, first of all, weirdchamp, and secondly, please come inside, you’re worrying me right now.”

Phil let Techno in, and offered him a cup of tea. “No thanks Phil, so back to what I was saying, where is Y/n?” “Oh, they’re in the back, I thought you were someone else.” “Thanks.”

He stepped towards the direction you were in, and opened the door to find a frantic, worried Y/n. He put his body on the doorframe nonchalantly, “You missed me?” You turned around from your pacing, and looked at Techno, relief coating your eyes, “TECHNO.”

“Y/n.” he replied. You hurriedly walked to Techno, and gave him a bone-crushing hug. “Oh my goodness I’ve missed you so much, why did you have to leave, I don’t want you to die, fuck Quackity and the rest of them...” You rambled on and on about how the Butcher Army should be convicted, and a whole bunch of other things, when Techno cut you off, “Calm down my Aphrodite, I’m back, and that’s all that matters.”

"Ok, well are you hurt anywhere, Phil has some healing pots as well as some bandages." "I'm fine, but are you ok, did they hurt you?" he put his hand on your shoulders. "I'm ok, they didn't acknowledge me."

"Well, I'm glad that was the case."

You severely hugged him again, "Please never leave without me, I don't want this happening again."

"Never Y/n, never."

[chelleztjs18]

Lost in Assistance - Ch. 5

Elizabeth Olsen x Fem!Reader

GIF: I do not own this GIF.

Summary: Y/n is a professional celebrity's personal assistant in Hollywood got hired with two years contract to be the assistant of the famous and talented Elizabeth Olsen / Lizzie by her manager. Both Y/n and Lizzie hate each other since day one, and they have mutual friend. One is as stubborn as the other, will Y/n stay when Lizzie gives attitudes and tries her best to make her quit before the contract ends?

Warning: fluff, angst, smut (in future chapters), swearing words ( +18 only)

All chapters

“Hey, I’m leaving now. Are you there yet?” Lizzie texted shortly after she turned on her car. “I’ll be there in 15 minutes.” Aubrey replied. “Okay, on my way. It won’t get me too long to get there.” She tossed her cell phone onto the passenger side seat and started to drive.

It’s almost lunch time hour, the traffic is getting undeniably more crowded. It’s typical L.A traffic with its uncertainty crowd flow on random parts here and there. While driving Lizzie starts to think about the meeting today. A part of her actually feels bad knowing that you might have heard what she said on the phone. Deep down she knows it’s not your fault to be caught in the middle of this whole matter. The more she thinks about it, the more it triggers her memory that your were actually the girl who smiled nicely to her at the coffee shop who didn’t do anything that made Lizzie get recognized when she was trying to not to be and that was why Lizzie nodded and smiled as an appreciation towards you.

Of course once her common sense slowly starts to get her to think in the right way, her stubbornness quickly erupts and plays with her emotion again. Especially when her memory rewinded the view when your left hand grabbed the pen and signed the contract even after she gave you a cold intimidating statement then it was followed by the memory of all of her conversations with Jane and her mom who hired you without her agreeing to it. It makes her feel that they don’t think she is old enough to deal with this situation. Her anxiety only makes her more emotional in handling this matter and forces her to dislike you even more and to think what she should do to make you quit.

All the thinking while driving clearly makes it feels faster to get to the restaurant where she's meeting Aubrey. She parked her car, then walked into this quiet restaurant. She was greeted by the host then she explained she is meeting her friend here as her green eyes are searching for where Aubrey sits. “Lizzie! Over here!” Aubrey’s voice quickly caught her attention. Lizzie sees her sitting at the table in the patio and walks to her.

“Hey, how are you? It took longer to get here than you thought huh?” She gave Lizzie a hug. “Hey, how are you? Yeah, sorry, I got caught in a little traffic.” Lizzie sighed then she took a seat. The girls order some food and drink to accompany them while they are catching up.

“Sooo, what's up with your text yesterday. What do you want to figure out together with me? From your text, I can feel you were upset.” Aubrey starts the conversation. “Really? You can sense how I feel from my text?” Lizzie rolled her eyes playfully. “Of course, we are best friends, more like a soulmate I think but seriously what’s going on?” She joked around but tried to dig into what's going on at the same time.

Lizzie starts with a sigh and takes a sip of her drink. “Do you remember when I told you that Jane and my mom are thinking of getting me a new personal assistant?”

“Yeah? They still talk about it with you?” Aubrey said as she took a bite of her food.

“Even worse! They hired one already regardless of the fact that I said that I don't need one. I met her this morning. She came by with Mitchel Elrod to sign the contract and everything. Turns out she is his best friend.” Lizzie explained with huge annoyance.

“Oh yeah, I remember him. I got my assistant from his company. Does she know how you feel about this thing?”

“Oh that part, she might have heard what I said when I was talking with you on the phone this morning because I didn’t know that she was sitting in front of me in the waiting room. I felt terrible actually but then in the meeting I was thinking fuck it so I told her bluntly straight to her face that I actually don’t need her and I’m here because I’m forced to give it a try so this better be worth it.” Lizzie put her head to her hands, her thumbs massage her temples a little bit.

Aubrey gasped, “No you did not! Then what did she say?” Aubrey got so invested with what’s going on.

“Nothing really. She just said she hopes I like the way she works. That’s all. I was hoping she would change her mind and say no to work for me after what I said to her, but then she signed everything like she was trying to say “challenge accepted” to me.” Lizzie motions an air quote then takes another sip of her drink to calm herself down. “It’s like a competition to me now. This just made me doesn’t like her more.” She added.

“So I need your help to figure out how to make her quit because the contract said it can be terminated if there is a mutual agreement from both parties. So if one day she says she wants to quit, I will agree to it and boom! Case close!” Lizzie told her idea with confidence.

“Why are you trying so hard anyway? I meant Jane and your mom have a point. She will be very busy, they just want someone to help to provide your needs at work. You're gonna have a few busy years sister with all the upcoming filmings and others. It’s for your own sake I guess.” Aubrey shrugged as she tried to talk Lizzie out.

“Oh my God! Aubrey, you are supposed to be on my side. The problem is my anxiety. It’s hard to adjust with new people. This is also about how they don’t listen to my opinion or what I want. They hired her without finalizing it with me first.” Lizzie explains in frustration.

“It’s also about your ego isn’t it?” Aubrey added as she knows her best friends very well. 

“They know you would still say no even if they asked you before they hired her and honey I really understand your anxiety, I'm so sorry. Okay, I’ll help you. Why don’t you just give her hard times at work? Give her “hell” at work.” She suggested.

“And how do I do that?” Lizzie asked in confusion.

“I don’t know. Just be as bitchy as you can, ask ridiculous things. Make her do stuff that doesn’t make sense. So basically gets on her nerves every single day, I guess. Be difficult, you know what I meant.” Aubrey continues with her suggestions.

“I think you are right! Aubrey you are a genius! Thank you!” 

“What would you do without me?” Aubrey rolls her eyes joking around. “Anyway, what’s her name again? How does she look?” All of this conversation made Aubrey curious and pulled out her phone.

“Y/n Y/l/n. She looks okay and well dressed. A little taller than me. She’s - “ Aubrey all of a sudden cuts her off before she can even finish her sentence. 

“Wait! what?! Y/n Y/L/n?” Aubrey is as surprised as she can be, then looks at her phone and shows it to her confused friend. “Is this her?” Lizzie squints her eyes as she takes a look at the social media account profile Aubrey shows her. “YES! That’s her. Wait, how do you know? Please don’t tell me you know her too.” Lizzie covers her face with both of her hands as a sign of frustration.

“Actually, Yes I know her. I know her from a mutual friend quite a while ago. She also introduced me to Mitchel. I didn’t know she came back to work with him. I haven’t seen her for a while, we just sometimes text each other here and there just to say hi.”

“Aww, she hasn’t really changed. I always like the way she dresses and her good taste of music. Look, isn’t she cute?” Aubrey smirked jokingly as she continued checking Y/n’s social media on her phone and showed it to Lizzie.

“What are you talking about Aubrey? Cute or not, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m upset with this whole situation and I already do not like her, besides I don’t date girls. I’m dating Robbie. You know that! So can you focus here please?" Lizzie snapped her finger to regain Aubrey's attention back to the main topic.

“Haha, okay chill. I was just joking because you are so tense right now. You are dating Robbie but it doesn't look or feel like you guys are dating. You both barely spend time together. He is too busy with his band and his tours. You know what? I started to think he dates you just to boost his fame.” Aubrey casually points out her opinion to her best friends.

“Aubrey, I’m here not to talk about my relationship.” Lizzie reminded her why they are there.

“Okay okay!” Aubrey laughed. “Anyway, I don’t think I can help you to give more ideas to annoy y/n at work. I love you but I didn’t know it was Y/n you were talking about. She’s my friend too, I can't do that to her. At least I gave you the idea in the beginning but just considered I never tell you anything. Sorry babe, I hope you understand.”

“That’s too bad but okay, I understand.” She pouted but she can’t complain because at least Aubrey already gave her a little rough idea what to do.

The girls used the chance to also catch up with each other’s life but unfortunately it has to come to an end as one of them has to go home.

“Okay Liz, sorry I gotta go. I’ll see you when I see you, okay. Remember, don’t hate her too much if you don’t want to end up falling for her. Well that was what old people used to say, I think.” Aubrey teased Lizzie while giving her a goodbye hug.

“Aubrey stop! That won’t happen. See you soon. Thanks for the help.” Lizzie hugs her goodbye. Lizzie then got into her car and pulled her phone out.

“Hey Y/n, this is Elizabeth Olsen. On friday, we are supposed to drive together to my photoshoot location. Meet me at the office at 6 AM. We’ll take your car from there. Oh, don’t forget my coffee. The one I like. It’s on the list.” Lizzie texted Y/n with no signs of compromise in text.

“Hi. Ms. Olsen, I thought the schedule was at 8 AM but okay, I will meet you there at 6 AM on Friday, with your coffee.” Agreeing is all y/n can do. It’s the first day of work anyway, what’s the worst could happen.

Ch. 6

[mxtcha-tea]

and that's how i met you mother

✎desc; love at first sight with shiratorizawa (honestly, not all of them are love at first sight but ignore that)

✎pairing[s]; shiratorizawa 3rd years x f!reader (separate)

✎genre; fluff, crack

✎language[s]; english

✎chef note; just an excuse for me to write lovesick boys💗 (I can’t do Shirabu, Kawanishi and Goshiki’s part cause I ran out of ideas🤸‍♀️🚆)

Ushijima

It would just be a normal day in his class, learning and stuff like usual

Then after the teacher finished explaining and hand out the tasks, he'll went through his pencil case and couldn't seem to find any pen

Ushijima frowned at that and looked throughly in his pencil case but with no luck, there's none

He swore that he had put some inside, maybe his mind slipped a little?

A tap on his shoulder caught his attention as he turned his head around to make eye contact with you

You're holding out one of your pen to him with a neutral look,

"You can have it," Ushijima look at you surprised, does that mean he can just take it from you? That's a little absurd

But he didn't question it and nodded, slowly taking the pen from your hand and continue studying

The pen doesn't really sit right in his hand, it's not being his and literally someone else that he doesn't have the chance to talk to

He'll spare a glance at you every minute (ngl, he's complimenting your side view internally)

And when you caught him looking at him, he'll just blink and slowly look back at his work with a light blush on his cheeks

(Istg it's so cute)

After the class ends and before you can leave for lunch, Ushijima caught your attention first,

"Here, thank you for lending me this. And unfortunately, i can't take it from you"

You're just looking at him with a dumbfounded look before taking the pen from him,

"Ah, no problem, um..." "Ushijima Wakatoshi"

You nodded at that, scratching the back of your head "...Ushijima. And it's [y/n]"

Both of you are just standing there in front of each other but it's not awkward, surprisingly

It's as if you two are waiting for one of you to speak and end the convo

(Spoiler alert; none of you wanted to end the convo since both of you find each other interesting)

You cleared your throat, fiddling with your pen a little, "Okay, see you after this, Ushijima"

He nodded at that and with that, both of you went to your separate ways

'[Y/N], YOU AWKWARD BASTARD! THAT WAS SO EMBARRASSING, I BET HE THOUGHT THAT YOU'RE WEIRD NOW!'

Ushijima's just walking towards the gym with a fairly visible blush across his cheeks as he look down

"Ushijima..."

"[y/n]..."

"I guess he's fine..."

"I guess she's fine..."

Ushijima Current Mission!

Trying to figure what other scenarios he can drag you in to have a convo with you again

Good luck Wakatoshi~!

Tendou

You and Tendou have talked with eachother a couple of times but it's nothing more than that

And Tendou actually want to talk more with you (at first for friendship points but y'know...)

Today, you look more beautiful than ever to him today

It's not like you're not beautiful every other day (he thinks you're pretty so that's why he kept on having a convo with you)

And he caught into that

Somehow, he can't help bet stare at you in a distance and he tried his best to avoid getting caught

(Tendou's scared that you find him creepy for looking at you all the time and he don't want that thought to flood you mind)

Then, you came to him to explain about the work your science teacher gave since she's absent for the time being

And you can bet that he doesn't hear a single thing you said because he's too focused on yourself

It's kinda like in those scenes in manga where the main character stare into the main interest

The main interest looking as beautiful as ever with flowers around them

Pretty eyes, angelic face, kissable lips

For him, you're perfect and he even thought that you might be an angel in disguise

No matter how you even see yourself, he would always think that you're fascinating, adorable, enticing—

"Tendou, are you okay?"

The redhead snapped out from his thought and got caught by you

By now, his face is literally mocking his hair color as he chuckled nervously,

"Ah, I'm fine! It's just that..."

He was about to stop mid sentences but thankfully he still got that crumbs of courage and just goes with it,

"...you look pretty today,"

Tendou said with a closed eyes smile, peeking an eye open and trying to see your reaction (ngl he's nervous)

You blinked

Before you literally exploded at that which is what make him surprised in his seat

You fake coughed, looking away and avoiding eye contact,

"Thanks...."

[love meter +10!]

If this is an actual manga or anime, there could've been hearts dancing around him

Timeskip to Tendou at his home and squealing quietly to himself (he can't let his family hear him fanboying for someone in his school lmao)

"We're totally going to marry 3 years from now on~" he says to himself in the mirror with so many confidence

(I just love it when Tendou act like that, let him have his moment)

"Haha, thank you gods for creating me and [y/n] in the same world,"

Tendou's Current Mission!

Getting to know you better and give tons and tons of compliments, just like in the simulations! Specifically otomes and dating games

Try your best Satori~!

Semi

It was another day, another practice session

Except that it went longer than Semi expected, he managed to run from the gym to the main entrance

But before he can even put on his shoes, heavy rain started pouring down

He look at the dark grey sky, resting his forehead onto the shoe locker with one shoe already in his foot while the other in his hand

Sighing, Semi thought about asking to come with Tendou and Yamagata since he didn't bring his umbrella

But on second thought, he realized that they prolly forgot theirs too

And all 3 of them have to run under the rain again like last time

Yamagata and Tendou: "We can avoid the rain if we're fast enough!"

He shivered at that their words and the thought of getting terribly sick again

And before Semi's brain can process a strategy for himself, he was caught off guard when an umbrella was opened next to him,

"Ah sorry,"

In those few seconds, everything went slow motion when your eyes catches his

(He swore it felt like in the anime)

He can feel his cheeks flushing a little but thanks to the wheater, it's not obvious

"Hello?" Semi snapped from his thoughts, shaking his head before focusing on you again,

"Sorry, sorry, um—" "You don't have an umbrella?"

He blinked, shaking his head slightly

It's a pretty peaceful staring between you two with the rain hitting the ground as background sounds

Until you lift your umbrella up, and pointed at the small spot next to you with your thumb,

"Here, I'll help you,"

"Eh?"

Semi was flabbergasted a little at your statement but would he decline it?

Of course not,

"Just tell me where your house is then I help you go there,"

And that's how he find himself back at his house's entrance with you in front of him,

"And that's why I just let you walk with me for the afternoon,"

"Is that so, oh wait! I haven't known your name, and you prolly haven't known my name either..."

He scratched the back of his neck before looking at you with a smile,

"The name's Semi Eita, thanks for the walk back home,"

Your lips parted a little before in turns into a tooth rotting smile,

"[y/n], no problem and thanks for the company, Eita,"

An arrow pierced through his heart as his face is literally the color of Tendou's hair

And just like that, you left him on the entrance with a funny expression upon his face

Cutting the scene to Semi punching his pillow (rip pillow)

"You already caught me off guard already but you really had to look at me like that...."

Semi's Current Mission!

Try to find you the next day after first period and try not to be awkward with you and his convo after the eventful day

You can do it Eita~!

Yamagata

Let's just say that,

Yamagata went through the late anime girl scenario

But with his toast falling down from his mouth while running towards his school

And his stamina almost running low despite being a volleyball player and a libero

(His house's prolly far from his school, cut him some slacks sheesh)

He's pretty much stumbling a lot when he enters the school and speed walking up the stairs

Some of the students look at him weirdly but that doesn't become his main concern because a strict teacher is going first

Yamagata's almost there, almost reaching his classroom's door

But god had other plans and place an invisible rock in front of him

And as you can tell, he slipped on it and now facepalming the floor

(The sound is so loud my lord)

He groaned, shaking a little while trying to sit up from his position

The male look up and is now face to face with you, who's looking down at him

Okay he might be delusional from the impact but is he actually looking at an angel right now?

"Dude, you okay? That's gotta hurt from the sound that it made—"

Your words drowned inside his mind as he widened his eyes with pink tints decorating his cheeks

'This...THIS IS IT!'

"—also I think your nose is bleed—"

"PLEASE MARRY ME!!"

You flinched at that but keep a calm face, a little bit concerned that he may hit his head too hard

While Yamagata is just having heart eyes for you, sparkles around him after saying those words almost too confidently

He doesn't know what's in him that make him think that you're the one,

But he definitely can feel it

You sighed, crouching down while searching through your pocket and pulling out a small pack of tissues,

"I think we're going so fast right now but no, maybe 5 years later or never,"

"Does that mean you agree??"

"I don't know, you're handsome but also stupid, a himbo I think,"

You wipe away the blood dripping down his nose, taking his arm, opening it and put the bloodied tissue on it before closing it, giving a light tap,

"Now go to the nurse office,"

"Will you be there for me?"

"No,"

You help him stand up, dusting his shoulder and walk away as if nothing happened

Yamagata watches you from the distance with a lovesick smile

Tendou laughed behind him with Ushijima and Reon next to him and Semi looking at Yamagata, confused,

"Hayato, I have no idea if you had your alarm on but you just came to school during recess,"

"She's perfect...also, I think I need to go to the nurse right now cause my head hurts,"

Yamagata's Current Mission!

Marry [y/n]

Have fun, Hayato~!

Reon

(He will have the best love at first sight cause I say so)

It was the school festival and it's lively in every corner of the school, the outside, inside the classrooms, even the hallways

Reon had just finished his part of his classroom and now can walk around to enjoy the festival

Honestly, it's a pretty normal day to him despite being the school's festival

The students of Shiratorizawa has always been this lively so it's good that they can be keep the atmosphere as how it is like any other days

Since the others are still working on their parts, Reon was all by himself

Sure, the quiet sounds without Tendou, Semi and Yamagata is fine but he prefer it being loud anyway

A short of way to fill in the boring silence

But what's the bad thing to enjoy the peace once in a while?

So he take a small walk outside the Shiratorizawa building

Stalls decorated the outside with students busy serving the customers

He was greeted by some of them as he greeted them back with a warm smile

Hands inside his pocket while looking at the sky every few seconds

Baby blue sky with fluffy white clouds, it is the spring afterall

It was at that moment where he turn his head around and caught your eyes

It was something between those few seconds that a lighting strike between the string connecting you two for a second

Reon knew he did from the moment you two clashed with each other so suddenly

It was...not love at first sight exactly,

But rather, familiarity, like,

'Oh, hello, it's you. It's going to be you,'

The staring prolly lasted more than he expected before you snapped out from your thought, shaking your head,

"Sorry! Didn't mean to..." "But you didn't do anything?" He rose an eyebrow, smiling sheepishly and watch your panic slowly dissolves

"Well, technically yeah but It was bad of me to stare off at you like that,"

He chuckled, your heart clenching at that,

"Don't worry, I think I did it too...maybe both of us did,"

"Ah, yeah! Probably..." you fiddled with your fingers, visibly nervous facing him since he's basically a stranger even tho being in the same school,

"Reon Oohira," "Eh?" You look at him with confusion at first, while he just offers you a smile,

"My name, since we have...how to say it, meet each other? And I don't want to make you uncomfortable after all that so I think it's best if we introduce ourselves,"

Your heart's basically beating out loudly that you'll afraid that he'll hear it

But, that doesn't seem so bad, does it?

You mirrored his smile, this time more confidently than before,

"[y/n] [l/n], nice to meet you Reon!"

"Please,"

Reon put his hand onto your head, "Just call me Hira,"

You fainted

"She's interesting, I love her,"

Reon's Current Mission!

Get to know you better and honestly, there's nothing else to do after that other than asking you out

You'll do great, Oohira~!

[ohmygoodnessgraciouss]

Reality Check - Chapter 3

Thanks for the love!  It’s insane to me how quickly this blew up!  And I’ve loved hearing theories by you guys! The show must go on, so let’s not wait any longer ;) 

Summary: Y/N and Wanda were very close after returning in 2023.  The two bonded over the loss of their partners.  It wasn’t enough to keep Wanda grounded after she found Vision’s body though, and Wanda wants the best for her friend.  Unfortunately for Y/N, this means she’s going to be thrown into a reality she wasn’t expecting.

Missed the first part?  Read it here! Need chapter 2?  Go down to the tags and click #Reality Check Masterlist ! 

Scott led you to a nearby park.  You never managed to get those guitar strings for Loki, so you hoped he had more at home that he didn’t know about.  You sat down on a bench with Scott, who looked around carefully, as if to ensure there were no wandering eyes.  Not a person was in sight, but you assumed that was because it was the middle of the weekend.  Everyone was at home, spending quality time with one another.  

“I don’t understand still.  What is it that you wanted to ask me?” You asked him, once he finally turned back to look at you. 

“Do you remember how you first got here?” 

“Well, yes, you pulled us outside of the store,” You laughed.  

“No-” He shifted in his seat, “-Do you remember when you first came to this town?” 

“Of course, I moved here with my husband when...” You drifted off.  “When we...” 

He looked at you expectantly.  “Do you remember?” 

You shook your head, almost upset with yourself for not remembering.  

“No, I don’t.”

---

“Wanda, what do you think you can do about it?” You asked your friend who was pacing around your shared apartment.  She had her hair pulled back in a low ponytail and she was dressed in leggings and a sweatshirt.  It was clear she hadn’t been taking care of herself.  Some of the injuries she sustained during the final battle were still visible.  They complimented the dark circles under her eyes, showing you exactly how she felt on the inside.  

“Y/N, we have to go take him back.” She said, finally stopping in her tracks.

“You don’t even know what S.W.O.R.D is doing though!  Maybe they’re trying to extract important data from him.” 

“Or they’re trying to weaponize him.  Exactly what he didn’t want.” Her voice was stern, and she was trying to control her anger.  You knew she was right, but you wanted to believe it wasn’t true. 

“And you believe you could bust right in there, take his body, and get away with it?  Wanda, I know you’re hurting but this is absurd!” 

“You say it as if you wouldn’t do the same for Loki.” 

“Because I wouldn’t!” You hissed.  You stood up and walked over to the girl, whose eyes were starting to glow a dim red.  “Vis wouldn’t have wanted you to keep going after him like this.  He would want you to move on.” 

“That’s what everyone keeps telling me.  Y/N, I know you understand this feeling.  You said it yourself, you nearly went after Loki in that timeline after he took the tesseract.” 

“But I didn’t.  The opportunity presented itself but I knew deep down that I couldn’t do it.  This is our reality.  Our universe.  Our timeline.  My Loki is gone.  I can’t do anything about it.” 

“But what if we could?” She asked, zoning out rather quickly.  Wanda was no longer looking at you, but rather looking out into the open as if there was an opportunity that presented itself. 

“What are you talking about?” You asked nervously.  

“There’s nothing grounding us right now, Y/N.  Everyone is out there, partying, celebrating, having fun with their loved ones.  We don’t get to have that.  Not in the same sense at least.  But with my powers-” 

“Don’t you dare say what I think you’re going to say.” 

“We deserve happiness.  Even if it’s only temporary.” 

“You’ll trap yourself in there.  It’ll be your dream world and you’ll never want to leave.  I know you, Wanda.  You can’t do this.” 

“Can’t I?” She stormed out of the room before you could say anything more.  You wanted to run after her, but maybe some space was what she needed. 

You regretted that decision three days later. 

--

“Neither do I,” He said, breaking you out of your trance.  He sighed dejectedly.  “You’re the first person I’ve had a chance to ask about this.  Anyone else runs away to do something else before I have the opportunity.” 

“What are you trying to say?  This is a perfectly normal neighborhood.” 

“I’m trying to say it’s the exact opposite of that, Y/N.  There is nothing normal about this town.  Nothing.  How did you get here?  Why did you come here?  Doesn’t it feel like everything is dull?  Colorless?” 

“Why would it be anything other than normal, Scott?  Are you trying to say magic is real or someone has this whole town hypnotized or something?  It’s madness!” You exclaimed.  “And if you believe that so much then why don’t you just leave?” 

“That’s the thing, I can’t.” 

“What do you mean you can’t?” 

“I mean there’s no way out of this town.  If you want me to leave, you first.  I’ll follow your lead.  But you’ll understand what I mean as soon as you get to the border.  It seems like it just goes on and on and you never reach the sign that says you’re leaving Westview.  There’s no way out.” 

You stood up from the bench quickly, like a lightbulb finally lit up in your head.  You shook your head and turned to leave.  “I don’t know what you want me to do here.  I’m happy with my life.  You just sound insane.  No wonder everyone tries to avoid you.  I have to get to the talent show.  My husband needs me.”  

“Then go to him, but mark my words Y/N.  Something is wrong.” 

---

“Loki, I’m so sorry!  I got caught up with someone at the store!” You gave him an apologetic smile.  He was standing behind the stage, tuning the guitar once more before he went on.  He smiled back at you when he saw you walking up. 

“It’s quite alright, love.  I’m just happy you’ll get to see me perform.  I think you’ll love the song I have picked out.  It’s one you haven’t heard from me yet.” 

“You mean I haven’t heard this one a dozen times this morning already?” 

“Not at all,” He grinned.  

“Well, I’m looking forward to it.  Break a leg, hon.” You kissed his cheek as a woman motioned for him to go up on stage.  She had her hair up and she carried a clipboard with her.  You realized you didn’t know her, so you walked over to her as you watched Loki.  

He introduced himself and began playing a song.  “Hey Good Lookin’” to be specific.  You laughed lightly as he glanced over to the end of the stage, giving you a small wink.  

“He takes my comments too literally sometimes,” You shook your head.  The woman smiled politely.  

“He’s a very good singer.  You’re lucky to have him.” 

“Oh, I am.  Sometimes I wonder what I would do without him.  He’s been my best friend for God knows how long.” You watched him turn to look at the crowd, a bright smile on his face as he sang the lyrics.  The crowd watched with light smiles as the man played. 

“That’s the best relationship you can have.” 

“Oh!  I’m sorry, I just realized I never introduced myself.  I’m Y/N,” You introduced yourself. 

“I’m Geraldine.  I’m one of Wanda’s friends,” She replied.  

Wanda seemed to pop up at the mention of her name because the next thing you knew you saw her next to you.  “How wonderful!  Hey Wanda, how are you adjusting to the town?” 

“Well, it’s been quite a big adjustment but everyone here is so welcoming that it’s easy!” She said, straightening out one of her gloves.  “Now it would be a little nice if my husband decided to show up soon.  We go on right after Loki.” She started fidgeting with her fingers.  

“Oh you two have met?” You asked her.  She seemed to freeze for a moment, before relaxing again and responding. 

“Yes, right before you showed up.  He’s so sweet!” She gushed.  

“Well, he is quite charming.  As I’m sure you can see by what he’s singing right now.  I mentioned Hank Williams once this morning and this is what I get for it,” You giggled. 

“Aw, that’s so romantic of him.” 

“It truly is.  But enough about me and Loki, Geraldine, when did you arrive in town?” You asked, turning towards her. 

“Oh, I’ve been here for a while, I just haven’t had the time to participate in any of these fun events until a few days ago. Perhaps we should have an evening out with just us girls one day, get to know each other,” She responded, 

“That would be great!  We could go out, find something fun to do, get a break from our husbands,” You said, laughing.  Wanda laughed a little as well.  

“I’ll have to see when I’m free,” Wanda mentioned.  “We’re still trying to settle into our home so life has been a little chaotic.  I feel like I need some magical stone or something to reverse time and give me a chance to relax.” All three of you chuckled at her statement. 

“Now that would be a wonderful tool.  If only it existed,” You groaned dramatically.  

“Well, either way, if you ever need any help settling in, let me know Wanda.” Geraldine mentioned.  You nodded your head in agreement.

“Yeah, don’t ever hesitate in reaching out.  We’re here to assist in whatever you need.” 

“You girls are so amazing!” She exclaimed, hugging the two of you.  You smiled and hugged her back.  

As she broke the hug, Loki walked off the stage and back to you.  “You were amazing, honey,” You complimented him. 

“Oh please, you weren’t even listening all that much.  But thank you anyway,” He kissed the top of your head.  Wanda and Geraldine watched with small smiles. 

“Wanda, Vision needs to get here in another five minutes otherwise I can’t do much more.  They’ll tolerate another break but that’s all I can do,” Geraldine mentioned, walking up to the stage.

“Thank you Geraldine,” She sighed, clearly frustrated.  

“He’ll show up.  He must know how much this means to you Wanda, so I have no doubt he’ll be here in time,” You said.  She nodded her head.  

“He’s never late.  He’s always on time, always punctual.” 

To ease her panic and worry, Loki decided to change the subject.  “I don’t believe we’ve met yet.  I am Loki,” He introduced himself.  You furrowed your brows in confusion. 

“I thought you two already met,” You asked.  

“Well I know she’s been in the neighborhood for a few days now, love, but I haven’t had the opportunity yet to properly introduce myself.” He responded.  

“I’m Wanda,” She smiled nervously.  She was trying to figure out a way out of this situation.  Fortunately, Vision was running over just in the nick of time.  He seemed out of breath, with his full magician’s suit on.  “Where have you been?!” She began to yell at him. 

You walked away a little, giving them space.  Loki followed closely behind you.  He seemed confused, but only by your expression.  It didn’t seem like he was concerned by Wanda.  “What was that about?” You asked him.  

“What do you mean?” He tilted his head slightly, much like a dog.  

“Wanda said that you guys met already, while you were on stage.  And then you act like you didn’t know her at all.” 

Before he could respond, you noticed a glint in his eyes.  It was like a red mist reflecting in them.  The color faded quickly, back to the grey you were used to.  He seemed phased out, like something else caught his attention.  “We briefly talked right before you arrived, so maybe that’s what she meant.” 

You nodded absentmindedly.  You didn’t believe him at all.  Too many things were becoming too suspicious at this point.  Loki saw how you reacted, hurt flashing in his eyes.  A part of you would’ve felt guilty if you didn’t feel like you were being left in the dark constantly.  

“Loki I wish I could believe you, but so many weird things have been going on lately.”  You muttered under your breath.  

“Y/N, what’s wrong, love?”  He asked, placing his hands on your waist.  He was concerned, but he didn’t know what to do. 

“It seems like everything is off.  I’m seeing weird things around this place, weird people.  It all started when Wanda came to town, and now there’s some weird guy that I met at the store and-” 

“Wait, what weird guy?” 

“The one that I bumped into a few days ago.  He talked to me today and he sounded absolutely insane.”  

“What did he talk to you about?” 

“He started asking me questions I didn’t know the answers to.  He started spouting out some weird stuff about the town.  I ended up walking away because he wouldn’t stop pressing about it,”

“I don’t trust that man,” He said, almost afraid. 

“Me neither.  But with the other weird and strange things happening now, I wonder if there’s any substance to what he’s talking about.” 

“Y/N, don’t start with this.  Don’t get yourself caught up with someone like him.  You’ll drive yourself mad with this.” He pulled you closer to him by your waist as you avoided his eyes. 

He lifted your chin with one hand, forcing you to look at him.  “There’s something wrong here, Loki.  Do you remember how we got here?” 

“How we got here?” He echoed. 

“When did we move here?  When did we get married?  When did we decide to get married?” You asked him. 

“That doesn’t matter, love.  The important thing is that we’re here now, together.” He pressed. 

“You’re avoiding answering the questions.” 

“We deserve happiness, don’t you think?” You froze when he asked that.  Something about that phrase, those words, were eerie.  

You pulled away from him quickly.  “Don’t say that.  Loki, I deserve to know how we got to this point in our lives.  I can’t remember what we did to get here.  If you won’t tell me, then I need some time alone.  I’ll be home later tonight, but please don’t follow me.” 

You started walking away, refusing to look at Loki.  You know you’d run right back if you saw the heartbreak in his eyes.  

W̵̲͓̱̹̻̜͖̟̺̲͕̍̉͑̀̈͜͝ͅh̴̨̻̠̫̫̲̟͖͊̃̐̓̈̅̄͜a̶̢̛̜̝̯̩̻̾́̐̓͛́͜ț̵̡̜̗͓̱̠̝̖͚͕̹̗͚͖͗'̶̧͙͉̜͈̖̹̠͍̓ş̴̢̡̥̰̤̱̩͓̹̦̠̥̞̎̾͊͘͜͠ ̴̡̙̬͓̻͉̭̗͎̙͕͌̈́g̶̛͉̜̯̥̍͒ö̴̢͙͇͍̮̮̝̗͈̲̬̪̯́͋ͅͅĩ̶̧͕̜͖͖͎̌́̂̐͗̏́͛̃̄͘͠͝n̴̨̢͙̼̩͕̼̮̬̪͙̊̽͊̓̇̈̀̈́͒̈́̓͘͜͝ǧ̸̱̮͕̮̻̻͇̖̪̯̳̂̈́̉̾͐͜͠ ̸̭̼̃͂̇͗̓̆͐̓͗̀͋̑̉͊͛ơ̶̡̡̧̩̤̙̤̯͇̝̞̫̤͓̆͑̓̉̌͂̃̓̍̋̄͘ͅņ̶̯͓̭̺̹̪̅̓̍́͗̅͗͘͝ ̶̢̡̼̗̙̤̫̳͇͓̻͉̼̯͈͐̔̄̄͊̈́̐̿̔̄̈́̕ṋ̴̭̫͖̜̫̦̀͆̒͘ͅo̸̗͊̋̏̇̊̾̿́̆̇̈́̑͝͝w̶̛̛̼̓̍̀͐̄̀̈́̈́̿̽̚͘͝?̷̳̜̜̺̼͙̜̰͊͊͗̆͒̋͜

“Darcy?” 

“What’s Wanda doing now?” 

“She’s performing a magic show.  It’s just like any other sitcom.  She’s trying to hide her powers because Vision has decided to go haywire.” She said, taking a sip of her coffee. 

“Wait, what’s that?” Jimmy asked, pointing to the background.  

“It looks like Y/N and Loki.” 

“It looks like they’re fighting,” She responded, pointing out their frowning expressions, their stiff body language.  

“Would Wanda script that?”

“I doubt it.  She’s apparently living the perfect little sitcom life after all.  She’d never want people fighting like that.” 

Suddenly, the television screen flashed for a moment.  The camera panned to the talent show, pointing directly at Wand and Vision.  You could no longer see the other couple. 

“She must’ve noticed.”

“And she doesn’t want anyone else seeing.”

.

.

.

.

Taglist: @emberfulclass @momoneymolife @high-priestesss @hailey-the-heathen​ @mochminnie @dpaccione @intricate-melody @lindseyrae20 @storminateacup15

[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

[oikirstein]

𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬 | 𝐫.𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐚

PAIRING: suna x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: It was a quiet night you were to have—until Suna came knocking on your door at 11 PM. 

CONTAINS: angst, drugs (weed), suggestive content, tw: kissing, shotgunning, suna’s mom’s honda odyssey 

WORD COUNT: 3,097

A/N: this bad boy is dedicated to my sussy little baka @hikariakaashi​ giggles (derogatory). you’ve been going through a suna brain rot recently and when i told you my fantasy about shotgunning with suna, you encouraged me to write it, so here it is chuckles immensely. i hope u like it ily :biteslip: 

big thank you to @kyotarou​ for beta reading and giving me mini heart attacks & to @hajigumi​ for making my header after saying it was ugly (/j) <3 

The silence of your room was peaceful. The stars shone brightly outside your balcony window, moonlight glistening through the translucent curtains. It wasn’t absurd for you to be all by lonesome, it was only natural for the daughter of a CEO to find herself busy with things that didn’t concern the family. They were raising you to be an heir after all, a feat that required independence to be a shining skill. Still, standing in an empty room, it was a lonely situation to be living in. You were grateful to have such a future practically placed in the palms of your hands, but you wished there was something more. You wanted to experience what it was like to break free from the shackles of responsibility and keeping up appearances. A lot of your time was spent wondering if things would’ve been different had you been given a choice, but unfortunately, life did not give you the option to change the past.

That’s why you were so thankful to have heard the light knock that originated from the wood of your balcony door. A light flinch overtook your body at the sound, like you were anticipating his presence. You tiptoed your way over to the door, your warm hand radiating heat onto cool metal of the doorknob. With your ear pressed to the wood, a soft giggle fell from your lips.

“Who is it?” you teased, knowing full well who was on your terrace at this late hour.

“Why don’t you open up the door and see for yourself?” You could practically see the smirk that played on his face.

Without hesitation, you swung the door open so fast the hinges didn’t have the chance to creak. You jumped into his arms at first glance, him carrying you with ease. “Rintaro! What are you doing here?”

He placed you back down on your feet before taking your hand in his and bringing it up to his lips, “It’s a beautiful night, is it not?”

You blushed at the contact of his soft lips on your skin, anxiety washing over you as you scanned the perimeter.

“What if someone sees us?”

“Well, no one’s gonna catch us if we aren’t here for them to catch,” he whispered, jerking his head to the side as if to insinuate they were going to leave the property.

If someone had caught you with a boy—the boy being Suna, no less—you surely would’ve been reprimanded by your father. On the other hand, the past couldn’t be changed, and the consequences of the future were for a different you to worry about. What was life without a little risk anyway?

“You mean like...sneaking out?” You warily looked around as you shut the door, the click of the knob sealing your fate.

He lightly grabbed hold of your hand and started his way down the stairs of your parapet. “Well how else would we spend today?”

You followed him, hand in hand, through all the twists and turns that presented themselves in your garden, until you reached the outermost edge of the estate.

Suna promptly released your grip, intertwining his own fingers to hoist you over the wall, “After you.”

You held onto his shoulder as you stepped onto him, “Such a gentleman,” and climbed over the wall with ease.

Rintaro swiftly followed you, using his upper body to lift himself above the marble. After dusting his hands off on his jeans, he led you to the street just beyond the backyard.

As you approached the vehicle, he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry it’s nothing fancy. All I had was my mom’s old Honda,” you gave him an apologetic smile to reassure him that trivial things such as car brands didn’t matter. He stepped in front you to open the passenger door, waiting for you to be all settled in before winking. “But don’t worry, she won’t be back home until next month,” then he shut the door.

Your eyes followed him as he walked around the front of the minivan to get to the driver’s side, “What? What do you mean? Sunarin! Why does it matter if she’s not home!”

All he could do was laugh as he opened his own door. Hopping into the car and resting his wrist on the steering wheel, his eyes made a quick glance at the center console before putting his seatbelt on and starting the ignition. “Like I said, princess, it’s a beautiful night.”

The silence of the drive was peaceful. It was a comforting kind of silence, the kind that enveloped you in warmth. Everything felt okay in this abyss of quiet because you were in this abyss together.

You leaned your head against the window, feeling the cold air of night permeating through the glass before you sighed. “Say, how long until we reach our destination?”

Rintaro shifted in his seat, placing his right elbow on the armrest of the door and placing his head in his palm. He darted his eyes to you and back to the road with a smile, “Be patient. Good things come to those who wait.”

Sitting up straight, you crossed your arms over your chest and imitated a child’s pout. “Well can you at least tell me what we’re gonna do?”

He looked at you, then to the center console, then back at you before shrugging his shoulders. It was like giving a dog a bone. You squinted your eyes at him before untangling your arms and snaking your finger over to the medium and clicking it open. In the corner of your vision, you could see Suna trying to stifle a laugh. Curiosity getting the best of you, you leaned over to look into it, and your eyes widened at the sight.

“Seriously?” you rolled your eyes at him.

As you pulled into what seemed like a forest, he threw his head back in a guffaw.

“What? There’s no better way to celebrate, baby.” He unbuckled his seatbelt and gave you a kiss on your temple before pulling the keys out of the ignition. “Are you ready?”

“Ready for what?” You mimicked his actions and took your seatbelt off.

“Look up.”

You questioned his statement for a second before looking up through the panoramic sunroof of his mom’s Honda Odyssey.

“Oh my god. It’s beautiful.” Your eyes were full of wonder, much like a child, as you stared at the dazzling pink moon above you. “How did you find this place?”

He looked up for a moment, pretending to be lost in thought. “I dunno. Just came across it I guess.”

“Who would’ve thought I’d be alive to witness such a phenomenon!” You giggled, gazing at the sky once more. Turning to Suna, who was staring at you, you commented, “For real, it’s so pretty.”

“Not as pretty as you though.”

He was so suave sometimes it made you itch. Scoffing at him, you chose to ignore what he said, instead holding your hand out and saying, “Oh shut up and pass me a lighter.”

Suna dug his hands into the console and once he had everything in his hands, he motioned for you to shut the top. You watched him diligently as he twisted the grinder, once, twice, three times before taking a wrapper out of the packaging and running his tongue on it. He has such nice hands, you thought as the veins flexed against his bones. He laid the paper flat onto the leather and snapped his gaze back at you.

“Hey, pay attention. How’re you gonna do this by yourself if you’re too busy looking at me, hm?” He loved to tease you, loved to see the heat rise to your cheeks when he took advantage of a perfect moment—loved to fluster you speechless. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He took your silence as you admitting defeat, no retort coming to mind. Chuckling at your scrunched eyebrows and focused eyes, he took the wrapper back into his palm and unscrewed the grinder to sprinkle the weed onto the paper. With a steady hand, he placed the container down and rolled up the blunt. Suna tucked the edges of the paper into itself, and taking the lavender lighter that sat on the dashboard, he ran his thumb across the sparkwheel, running the flame across the wrapper.

Once he was done, he held the blunt between his thumb and index finger, taking a look at his proud work. Placing his elbow on the console, he slowly flicked his wrist to your side, ushering you to take the blunt from his fingers. Holding it with your left hand, he placed the lighter in your right. You paused before placing the blunt in between your lips, “I don’t know Rin, I just can’t imagine a world where you don’t roll for me,” you shrugged your shoulders, finally making contact with the paper. As you lit the end of the blunt in the darkness of the car, you couldn’t help but wither at the flame. You never really noticed in the daylight, how fast the light goes out. It was strikingly more apparent in the dark. Before you knew it, your eyes had shut and the flame was out. Perhaps at this moment you could’ve made some cliche anecdote about how life was like a flame, and it would be out before you knew it, so it was best to make the warmth last, but you were just so entirely encapsulated by it’s light that it was gone before you even had time to think about it.

You took a deep inhale, closing your eyes and clearing your thoughts as you let the smoke simmer in your throat, only exhaling when you felt as though you couldn’t breathe anymore.

“That’s my good girl. Seems like you did learn a thing or two from hanging out with a rascal like me.”

You rolled your eyes at him, increasingly getting closer to his body. “As if I had baby lungs before we met.”

A low chuckle erupted from his chest. Watching you take another hit, eyes drunk on the sight of you, he patted lightly on his thighs. You smiled at him, vapor spilling from your teeth, and lifted your body over the middle separation of the car. With you now straddling his legs, he placed his rough palms on your waist, holding onto your skin as if he was afraid to let go. You wrapped your arms loosely around his shoulders and he brought his hand up to brush his thumb against your lip. Gently pulling you in, he settled your soft lips on his, feeling his lungs fill with the smoke from yours. It was slow, the moment feeling everlasting as your bodies moved in sync and your tongues brushed against each other. You pulled apart for a moment, the taste still lingering while Suna turned his head to the side and exhaled.

He looked back up at you with stinging eyes, words could not possibly describe how beautiful you looked under the glowing pink moon. He pulled you in once more, this time more forceful. Teeth clashing and saliva spilling—he couldn’t get enough of you. You held the sides of his face with the heels of your palms, kneeling on the seat below you, desperately wanting to get closer. Suna drew back from your lips with a pop, only to come back and run his tongue all the way down your jawline and neck. Quiet moans ruptured from your throat as he sucked and nipped at the skin. You brought the joint to your lips and sucked on the end until the tip was bright red, only exhaling when Rintaro bit your shoulder.

Playfully smacking his arm, you winced, “Ow!”

He kissed the area as if to soothe the pain, “Sorry, princess, you just taste so good.”

“Yeah right, you smooth piece of shit,” you said, taking the joint in your lips again.

Suna removed himself from you, taking the blunt from your fingers and taking a hit himself. “C’mon, babe, save some for me.”

You cupped his cheek with one hand, the other exploring his chest, while you smooched his cheek and nuzzled your face into his neck, “As if you can’t roll one for yourself,” you purred.

Taking the last few inhales, he placed the remainder of the joint in the ashtray that sat in the cupholder. Rin hooked his index finger under your chin and pressed a quick kiss to your nose, “Where’s the fun in that?” He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, your arms snaking around his waist, and rested his chin on your head. “Y’know, I’m really gonna miss moments like these.”

You sighed against his chest, “You’re talking like we’re splitting up.”

“Well we don’t really have a choice, do we? You’re gonna go study at some prestigious school in France, and I’m…” the strands of your hair flew askew as he exhaled above your head, “...staying here.”

You sat up, straddling his lap once again, bringing yourself eye level to Suna. “I’m coming back, you know that.” You caressed your thumb on his cheek and felt your chest ache when he leaned into your touch, like he was desperate for you to stay. “So don’t talk like we’re never going to see each other again.”

He raised his hand to hold yours and kissed the inside of your wrist tenderly. “Yeah, we’re going to see each other again, but we’re not going to be the same again.”

You didn’t know how to respond. You racked your brain for rebuttals, yet nothing came to mind. All you knew was that you couldn’t lie to him—you didn’t have the heart to. What good would come of lying to the person you loved?

“C’mon, princess, say something. Don’t...don’t let me overthink like this. My head,” you heard him sniffle against your ear. “I keep thinking about all these things—about the future, and, baby, I just can’t see one without you.”

He trembled beneath you, hoping that you didn’t have to see him cry. You didn’t want to look up at him either, afraid that if you let go, you’d never feel his warmth again.

“Rin, please...please don’t say that.” You clutched onto the fabric of his shirt tighter, indulging in the scent of his fabric softener. “You’re making it hard for me to say goodbye,” you pleaded.

He was no better, begging with every word that fell from his lips. “Would it be so selfish of me to want you to stay?”

You lifted your head from his shoulder, wiping your cheeks with your sleeves before taking on the courage to look at his face. His eyes were stained red, bloodshot from the tears that poured. He bit his lip as a last ditch attempt to stop it from quivering—he didn’t want you to see him so...weak.

“Baby…” you whispered, hands finding their way to his face, rubbing away the wetness on his skin. You lowered your head and pressed your foreheads together. Letting out a dry laugh, your breath brushed against the tip of his nose. “Why are you making this so hard for me?”

The rest of the night was a blur of grasps and heartbroken refusals to say farewell.

The silence of the drive was anything but peaceful. Both of you dreaded the moment the rumble of the engine would cease—both of you dreaded the moment you’d have to say your final goodbye. The air was dense, with a sort of sadness that was too heavy to feel all at once. Almost like if one of you had spoken, you’d break down all together. It seemed as if the evening was all jumbled together—the car ride was reminiscent of a limbo you were both stuck in, like the minutes were slowed and rushed at the same time.

Like everything in life, all good things must come to an end. As you watched the image of your home enlarge from the distance, your heart sank to your feet. The moment was inevitable, and yet you hoped it would never come.

The minivan came to a stop in the exact same place it was when he had picked you up. Suna remained unmoving in his seat, hesitant to turn the keys in the ignition to the off position. Once the car stilled, your eyes glanced at the man to your right, tears threatening to spill from your waterline. Your hand wandered down to the lock of your seatbelt, wincing with your eyelids shut at the sound of the click—an action that forced streams to fall down your cheeks. The thick fabric whipped to your side, freeing you from the atmosphere that suffocated you, but you lingered in your spot. There was a ringing in your ears, and you were sure that Rintaro could hear it too. The smooth plastic of the door handle which you reluctantly hooked your fingers around burned against your skin. Everything felt sedated. Reality felt altered. Nothing felt real. The second you tore your eyes away from in front of you, Suna unbuckled his seatbelt and threw it to the side. He grabbed a hold on your wrist, using his other hand to bring your face to his.

Your bodies pressed together, fingers tangling in each other’s hair, clothes, and anything you could grab onto to bring the other closer. Your hearts raced, lips embracing in a delicate hold, breaths leaving your mouths in sync. It was no longer static. Everything felt warm. Everything felt happy. For the first time in what felt like forever, everything felt okay.

One last time, you broke free, instantly feeling colder. Your foreheads rested against each other, unwilling to leave the car and unwilling to let the other go.

You kissed his nose, feeling him smile under your touch. “Whatever happens during these next few years, promise me we’ll find each other again,” you whispered in the dark.

He kissed your cheek, releasing you from his grip and rubbing your shoulder, a gesture that let you know he was ready to say goodbye. “I’ll find you in every lifetime, this one is no different.”

You slowly pulled the door handle and hopped out, leaning over your seat to give him one last kiss. “Don’t forget about me,” you giggled as you shut the car behind you and rushed to make it back to your room before sunrise.

“I love you,” Suna whispered as he watched you fade from view.

© all content [unless stated otherwise] belongs to oikirstein 2021. do not modify or repost.

reblogs are greatly appreciated <3