#as a large chested individual unfortunately I almost always need one
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Identity (Originally written for Follow Your Rainbow @fyr-zine an LGBT+ Sonic Zine)
AO3 link in comments
Ships: Shadow the Hedgehog/Sonic the Hedgehog/Sally Acorn/Amy Rose
Rating: T
Warnings: N/A
Description: When Shadow is dragged to Pride by his significant others he begins to question his identity.
The warm summer air seeped through the cracks and corners of the house, only cut some by the fervious efforts of the air conditioner that was working double time the past few days. Though, Shadow didn’t particularly mind- or even really notice- the scorching heat. In fact, if it hadn’t been for his blue counterpart, he doubted he would have thought to turn on the air conditioning in the first place.
However, that same counterpart was currently being a Grade A nuisance. Sonic had been bothering him all morning. He’d been attempting to convince Shadow to leave his work and go with him and the others to some block party happening at the time. Shadow momentarily wondered if he were to turn off the air conditioner would the blue blur leave to escape the heat. Unfortunately, he doubted it. Sonic had always been a most hard headed individual.
“It’ll be fun!” Sonic had said that about three or four times now.
“I have work to do,” was Shadow’s instantaneous response, which had also been stated at least three or four times.
Sonic let out a groan and fell to his back against the table. “It’s paperwork!” he cried out, throwing his arms to the air above him in exasperation. “Can’t you do it any other day?”
“It’s best to get stuff done when you can and not put it off,” Shadow hissed out back, giving Sonic a pointed look. “Even so, I don’t see why you’re so insistent that I come with you. Can’t you take the girls?”
Sonic rolled to his side, pushing around some of the papers to the side and causing Shadow to give a sound of annoyance. “I am! Or- trying to.”
Shadow gave a raised brow.
Finally sitting up, yet still on the desk, Sonic moved to explain: “It was Amy and my idea! But we wanted you ‘n Sal to come with. So I was tasked with convincing you and Amy went to grab Sal!” Sonic smiled proudly and shoved his thumb to his chest. As if convincing Shadow to go with their cluster to a party was a noble quest he’d been sent on. Shadow felt more as though it were his own personal purgatory.
Shadow had never been the kind for large groups of people. He liked solo missions and small meetups. He wasn’t big on large get togethers and definitely not parties. Especially not parties that took out almost all of City Square to host in its area.
As it were, however, it always seemed that if anyone could get Shadow into large groups it would be the very hero that sat with him now. Sonic dragged him around like an antisocial dog on occasion; assuring others that he didn’t bite and was safe to pet. It baffled him how insistent Sonic was on such things. He tended to notice a similar phenomenon happening to Knuckles as well. Only made more curious by the fact that Shadow knew Sonic could be just as independent as himself. The blue blur was just as weighed down by a need to be the lone wolf as Shadow, or even Knuckles tended to be. Sonic had always been strange in those regards, as he still seemed to have a near constant gaggle of allies and friends at his side on the regular.
“You know I’m not one to go to these sorts of things,” Shadow finally sighed, crossing his arms and looking up to the other. “Why are you so adamant about me going along?”
Sonic’s legs began to swing as his upper body rocked slightly along with the motion. “It’s not just any party. It’s Pride! Don’t you know anything about that?”
“Of course I do,” Shadow huffed out. “I’ve never been but I see no reason to. I understand it’s a celebration and I get why others would be interested. What I don’t see is why I should care.”
“Well, you’re gay for starters.”
Shadow gave Sonic an unimpressed look. “Your evidence isn’t very compelling.”
Sonic gave a dramatic sound of frustration. “It’s-” he lifted his hands but paused as his words started to trip over themselves. He took a short moment to reorganize whatever was sitting in his head. Shadow waited patiently for the other to clear up his thoughts. Finally, he started again, his hands waving along with his words. “It’s more than just a celebration! It is. But it’s also a big part of our history, you know? Also it’ll be fun. People go to this kinda stuff with their friends and partners all the time.”
Shadow’s frown stayed but did begin to soften some. It was clear this was important to Sonic; if not also Amy, Shadow was willing to guess. He understood the history. He understood, to at least some extent, its importance. That didn’t change his stance on wanting to go or not.
“Plus,” Sonic started up again, “it’ll be the first one since we all got together.”
Shadow looked at the other. He had a sincere, if not somewhat nervous smile. Shadow now understood the real importance such an occasion had to Sonic and Amy. It had been just a little under a year since the four of them had really figured out what they were and how the relationship would work. And where there were still some stumbles here and there, Shadow couldn’t lie and say the change in his life hadn’t brought something that made his days feel just a little brighter.
Finally, Shadow gave a sigh. He ran a hand over his face and rubbed at the side of his cheek. “Fine,” he groaned out.
Sonic straightened up and looked at him surprised. “Wait- really?”
“Yes. Really.”
Sonic jumped up from the desk, the sudden motion throwing some of the papers into the air. He let out a cheer of success and suddenly had his arms around Shadow, pressing an over dramatic kiss to his cheek.
Surely, it couldn’t be that bad.
It was that bad.
After just barely an hour, Shadow felt like any energy that would normally give his body the motivation to move had suddenly been zapped from him. Leaving him empty and lethargic. There was just so much happening all at once. He hadn’t had much time to really work himself up to going in the first place, having agreed because of his partners’ own interests in coming to such a large gathering.
He could hardly focus as they walked from point to point. He felt stiff and every ability to see or hear blurred into one large mass of sound and movements. His mind both on red alert and foggy all at once. It wasn't till a hand fell to his arm that he snapped out of the fog and faced worried pink fur.
“Are you okay, Shadow?” Amy questioned, her thumb gently running against the fur of his arm. He didn’t know if the motion was comforting or overwhelming.
“I…” his words fell away from him. Sally and Sonic were also both now looking at him with a matching concern. He tried to shift through the pros and cons of lying and saying he was alright, while also forcing the feeling of drowning out of his throat.
Before he could respond, Amy’s hand was gently taken from his shoulder. Sonic, now holding her wrist, spun her around with a smile and quickly to Sally’s side. Both giving Shadow much needed space, while also pulling a giggle from the pink hedgehog.
“Me ‘n’ Shads are gonna go take a breather,” Sonic explained, stepping to Shadow’s side but still giving the hybrid his space. “Things are gettin’ a little ‘a lot’, if ya’ catch me.” The blue blur gave the two a wink and a finger pistol. “We’ll catch up with you two in twenty.”
Amy looked like she wanted to object or ask to help. However, Sally stepped in and locked their arms.
“Alright,” Sally replied. “I’ll take Amy to get something sweet then.” She looked to Amy to see the pink hedgehog brighten at the promise of a treat before giving Sonic an understanding nod.
As the girls took their leave, Shadow could just make out Amy chanting “cake! Cake! Cake!” and Sally only chuckling in response.
His attention was brought back to Sonic when the other bumped him with an elbow. Sonic motioned his head to signal Shadow to follow him. Needing no other word, the two ran off and out of the crowds.
Sonic had led Shadow up to a rooftop. They sat in a comfortable silence and looked out over the festivities.
“We don’t have to stay the whole time,” Sonic finally said after a good while.
Shadow looked over to him, only to receive a smile in return. “We’ve barely been here an hour,” Shadow responded, looking away again.
“Yeah and you already look like you’re ‘boutta kick it,” Sonic chuckled. “Crowds can suck. I get it; and the girls will too. I’m happy you were willing to try and come at all, honestly.” Sonic gave a shrug at his admission.
“The crowds are bad but…” Shadow’s lips thinned as he tried to find where that thought was heading.
“But?” Sonic encouraged.
Shadow sighed. “I don’t think it helps that I feel out of place.”
“‘Out of place’?”Sonic raised an eye ridge in question, his ears flopping in a way that animatedly matched his features. “Wudda ya mean by that?”
Shadow looked to him again. “I always feel stuck out in a crowd. Even then, this gathering is for your community.” Shadow’s eyes fell to the roof below, frowning. “I don’t know how much I really belong in it.”
There was a pause of silence. The longer it was pulled out the more Shadow could feel the spines and fur on his back begin to stand on end. Finally, he gave in and looked up at the other.
Sonic was only looking at him. Eyes open with confusion, as if he were trying to figure something out. “You… don’t think you belong?”
Shadow, where already not the tallest of their group, somehow felt worlds smaller under Sonic’s gaze. As if he had just admitted to some grave injustice or unforgivable transgression. Not that he truly believed there was much he could do that the blue blur specifically wouldn’t gladly try to pull him back from. But this wasn’t any of this. This was Shadow feeling, in some manner of speaking, insecure and overwhelmed. Why he would ever feel wrong or bad for being honest with Sonic, with any of them, was beyond him. It was downright ridiculous when he thought about it. He could almost laugh. But he didn’t laugh. Instead, Shadow only nodded to confirm Sonic’s implied inquiry.
“We’ll, you’re definitely not straight,” Sonic said with ease.
Shadow looked to him with a confused frustration. “How can you possibly know that? I don’t even know if I’m sure of that.”
“I mean, you’re dating me and Sal- and she’s only a girl in the same way a sword is.”
Shadow looked to him as he gave an easy shrug. As if it was all so simple and conclusive. But to Shadow it didn’t feel that way at all. In fact, he found himself avoiding the mental subject, as he only felt lost at the concepts.
“Look man,” Sonic started up again. “You don’t gotta know all this stuff right away.”
Shadow looked back out to the crowd below them. His eyes zeroed in on Sally and Amy. Both of them had stopped at a small stand with flags of different variety. After a moment Sally pointed off somewhere and then walked to leave.
Sonic must have followed his gaze as after Sally left he knocked his elbow against Shadow’s own. “I’m gonna go back down.” Sonic stood up and stretched out. “If you wanna stay up longer or go home the girls won't be upset.” He then was gone in a flash. Leaving Shadow on the roof alone.
Shadow decided he would go find the others. He wasn’t fully convinced he wanted to leave. Nor was he fully convinced he wanted to stay either. Both seemed to have numerous cons to them that he didn’t want to cause. He tried to focus on the pros to make his decision but gave up on his midday roof sitting adventures either way.
Instead, he hopped off and started towards where he’d last seen Amy. He had watched Sonic speed off to find Sally earlier. Unsure if Amy had already grouped back with them or not.
Apparently not, as he found her exactly where they had left her. She was looking through a pile of multicolored scarves, skirts, and other trinkets. Most of the flags he didn’t recognize.
When he walked up to her she turned and gave him a wide smile. “Shadow!” she called out excitedly. She opened her arms, ready to envelope him in a hug but paused. “Are you still too overwhelmed for touches?” she questioned, tilting her head like a curious cat, her arms still outstretched but paused in place.
“I’m better,” he replied. “But nothing too big, please.”
She nodded and chirped a happy “okay!” before taking his hand in both her own to give it a soft and affectionate squeez. “Help me pick out a skirt!” She gently tugged at his hand to pull him closer to the stall.
“You’re getting a new skirt?” he asked.
“Well, most my pride stuff is old flags so I wanted to get something new!” She beamed up at him.
“Old flags?” Shadow questioned with a raised brow.
Amy nodded and took back one of her hands from his. She picked through a few different things, setting aside a couple as she went through. “You know,” she started up, drawing out her words in a sing-songy way. “Years pass, things change. I don’t really identify the same way I did when I was thirteen.” She gave a giggle, as if the joke was obvious.
Shadow wasn’t sure what the joke was.
She must have noticed the confused look on his face. Her smile turned to understanding as she explained, “some people’s gender or sexualities change over the years. I mean- are you the same as when you were a kid?”
Shadow looked back down at the multicolored clothing and trinkets. When he was a kid he was still in the Arc. “I… suppose not,” he finally let out. “But I don’t believe I had any sort of understanding of any of this when I was that young.”
“What, like, gay stuff?” Amy questioned.
He only replied with a muted nod. “I’m not sure how common it was on the Arc fifty years ago,” Shadow explained. “And even if it were, I wasn’t knowledgeable of it. Or really any time to myself to ever question anything of the like.”
Amy gave a nod, as she listened she began to throw scarves and cheesy sunglasses onto Shadow, as if to look and see how they look on him. “Well!” Amy declared, throwing a lesbian flag scarf back into the pile. “No time like the present, right?”
“How did you know?”
Amy looked up at him, pausing in her work. “Know?” She gave a thoughtful hum and looked back to the stand. “I mean, it takes a while,” she started. “Or, I guess it took a while for me. Knowing I was pan hinged on realizing I was a girl.”
“I guess it makes sense that they would be more or less hand in hand.”
Amy nodded in agreement. “It’s like,” she raised up her hands to wave them around lightly as she went, “when I was little I knew I liked Sonic. But it was a weird, like, hero worship thing.” She let her hands fall back to the trans colored skirt before her. “But, romantically liking guys- or even girls for that matter- felt weird.” Her hands began to fidget with the ends of the fabric. “When I realized I was a girl though, I realized I was imagining myself in relationships as a guy. Which wasn’t what was right, you know?” She looked up at him. Her smile was reminiscent and soft. “It felt good. Like a breath of fresh air.”
“How did you know you were a girl, though? How does one even know that sort of thing?” Shadow mumbled out the last part of his question.
Amy reached over and placed her hand back on his. “Honestly?” she started. “It’s different for everyone. Sometimes you just wake up one day and you know. Sometimes it's a lifetime of slow steps towards what you might not yet realize.”
Shadow met her gaze. He then let his eyes fall to their hands. “Sometimes I think I know who I finally am,” he began quietly. The words only meant for her, not the hundreds of people around them. At this point they’d all fallen to the background. The sounds and sights muted, completely focused on Amy and their conversation. “Then sometimes I feel like I have no clue.”
Amy just gave a gentle giggle at that. “Yeah, life can make you feel like that.”
Shadow took the risk and looked back up to her gaze. Her eyes were soft and comforting as usual. But there was an extra sentence there. More words that were left unsaid but were understandable by the way she rubbed the back of his hand with her thumb. The patient and loving look she gave. The comforting gesture given to show that she understood. Beyond the regular life experiences. Beyond the normal emotions of the everyday young adult. She knew Shadow’s feelings on the matter ran much deeper than that. Her words were not meant to lessen or trivialize his struggle, but to assure him that on some level, he wasn’t alone.
“But now I gotta ask,” she started up again. The bright chipper tone coming back full force. “Why the sudden questioning? Never thought you cared much about that kinda stuff.”
“I don’t,” Shadow quipped back without thinking. “I-I mean. I didn’t. Or,” his words became mumbles as he looked to the ground beside him. His eyes zeroed in on some silly string left behind. “I didn’t think I did. I suppose, coming here has… caused me to re-evaluate those opinions.”
“And your conclusion?”
He paused this time. Not wanting to give an immediate answer. He thought back on the conversation he’d had with Sonic earlier. About the things he did know about queer identities and how they worked. He then sighed and looked back at Amy with a small smile of his own. “I’m definitely not straight.”
She blinked before busting out into another fit of giggles. “No,” she squeezed out between laughter. “I didn’t think you were either.”
Shadow couldn't help the chuckle bubbling out. Once their laughter subsided, Amy began to swing his arm gently.
“I will admit,” Shadow said with a small sigh. “I’m not sure how I feel… on the other end.” His face lowered with his eyes. He hated the forein feeling of embarrassment that bit at the corners of his mind. Just enough to make the skin under his fur become warm, but not enough to be visible.
Amy pushed her face closer to Shadow’s from below, clearly chasing after his gaze with a cat-like smile of her own. “Other side?” She questioned, her tone now holding something more giddy. “Do tell.”
Shadow’s face only grew hotter with her pressing. He moved his head back a bit more, puffing out his chest with a huff. “You’re enjoying this.”
“Oh totally,” she agreed with a nod. “Now spill!” she giggles out, gently smacking his chest with her other hand.
“I’m not sure if I can even word it,” he mumbled back, his posture slowly moving back to normal. “The feeling is alien to me, though I can’t say it never existed just…”
“More center stage now?”
Shadow nodded.
Amy returned the nod in understanding. “You know who you should really talk to about all this? Sally!”
“Sally?”
“Yeah!” Amy nodded again, this time more enthusiastically. “They’re definitely the gal to talk to with gender stuff.” Amy straightened out her own posture. Still keeping close to Shadow, but now fully instead of just his face. “My gender journey, even if it took a while, was like a total straight path,” she began to explain. “And Sonic always tells it that he knew the second he could talk. But Sally’s run through different identities and different directions of gender expression than either of us! She’s probably gonna have like,” Amy raised her hands and wiggled her fingers, “old wizard style smart gender advice.”
He let out a humored breath at that.
Shadow parted ways with Amy, leaving her to continue her quest of finding the perfect skirt. He started in the direction he had seen Sally go off to the first time she’d walked off on her own. He decided to walk instead of run or anything that could get him there faster. For the moment, he felt like he needed the short time between talking with Amy and talking with Sally to breathe. The conversation with Amy hadn’t even been that hard to have. At least, it shouldn’t have been.
As he walked through the streets and the crowds he saw numerous familiar faces pass by him. He thought about each one. How he didn’t really know any of their explicit identities. All he really knew about any of them was what he was to call them and, if they were in a relationship, what that relationship was. For a guy who’s current job had a lot to do with working in the field of intel, it felt as though he was missing plenty of it.
He wondered if that was another nail in his coffin? Was he supposed to know such details about everyone? Was it all common knowledge? He wondered if he were to figure his own out today would he be expected to tell the world? He supposed that would be ridiculous, now that he’d given it serious thought. After all, for one most of these people were friends of friends. Acquaintances he’d made through Sonic or Rouge. And on the other hand, why would he need to know such personal details about all these people’s identities? He was making a mental mountain out of a molehill. His anxieties over his own, now realized, insecurities causing every red alarm in his mind to blare off at once in rapid succession.
He thought about what Amy had said. About how her own journey had been a long one. Shadow wasn’t sure he could handle something like that. Not knowing something about himself felt like standing before a cliff with nowhere to go. Learning new things about himself was one thing, it was exciting to say the least. But to not know something at all, to have some sort of gap in his perception of who he was… Shadow’s identity was everything to him. He’d clawed out of the depths of every hell imaginable so that he could stand as he did and feel confidence in his life; in his very existence as a person. For all of that confidence to be somehow undone by the anxiety of what could only be described as a momentary question of his gender identity? It was infuriatingly laughable.
And yet, when Shadow really pushed himself to think back, he wondered if ‘momentary’ was the right word. It was hard to describe, even to himself, the one person who, arguably, didn’t even need an explanation for the way he was feeling. But there was something there. Some wordless nagging at the back of his mind. An old itch that he never learned how to scratch; instead opting to shove it to the very back corners of his mind where it would no longer bother him. An emotion that, at first, seemed to have no substance or reason but after just a moment of consideration would come to understand it was full of questions and need for… something. Something Shadow was unsure how to have or obtain.
Shadow’s thoughtful walk was cut short by the sound of someone calling his name. He turned towards the sound, hoping it was what he heard and not just the noise of the bustling streets getting the better of him.
It was Sally, waving its arms to get his attention as it walked over to him. “Hey, Shadow,” it greeted more casually once they were in normal ear shot of each other.
Shadow took a few steps to meet it halfway and nodded a greeting to it. He then looked around and noted the absence of blue. “Where’s Sonic?” he asked curiously.
“He ran off to go find Amy when he saw you coming,” it explained. “To regroup and everything.” Sally gave a chuckle and shook its head. “I didn’t mean to leave her alone for so long but I ended up getting distracted.” Sally then looked up at Shadow. “What about you?” it questioned. “How are you doing? Any better?”
Shadow nodded. “I met up with Amy before coming to find you.”
Sally chuckled at that. “Feels like the four of us are playing tag at this point. Come on,” it said and began to walk back where Shadow had come from. “Let’s start back so hopefully we can catch them before we lose them again.”
Shadow started after it, keeping an easy pace. He let silence slip between them as he tried to pull back any thoughts he had before running into it. He wasn’t sure how to go about any of this. He supposed ripping the bandaid right off would have to be the best bet for now.
“Sally,” he began, grabbing its attention. “I wanted to ask about…” He looked to the side, as if looking for the words he needed. “About gender?” he questioned, sounding too much like a question in the wrong way.
Sally looked at him for a moment, as if to try and figure out what it was he was trying to ask at all. It then smiled. “Lemme guess, you’re questioning the whole cis versus trans thing, right?”
Shadow responded with a nod. There was a pause, clearly Sally giving him a moment to say more. He gratefully took it. “I never tried to focus on these sorts of things before. Even now I’m not sure how well I understand it all. I feel out of the loop and like there’s more to me I don’t know and-” He was stopped by a hand on his arm.
Sally had gently taken hold of him. “Hey, you know you don’t have to figure this all out at once, right?”
Shadow nodded. “Sonic and Amy said similarly.”
“Well, they’re right. For once, in Sonic’s case at least.”
Shadow let out a humored breath at that. “He has his moments. I think you and Amy are to thank for that.”
“I’d like to think so too,” Sally nodded with a chuckle.
“I just feel very… lost, not knowing things,” he continued. “Almost frustrated by it. But it feels as though there's so much I don’t know about this sort of thing already, that there’s no way I could ever make sense of it for myself.”
“Like queer identities, you mean?” it asked.
Shadow nodded.
“You know none of that really matters, right?”
Shadow paused and looked at it. “Huh?”
Sally gave a chuckle. “There’s a ton of identities not because you’re expected to memorize all of them but for the people who want them.”
“I’m still not sure I follow,” Shadow mumbled.
Sally tapped its finger against its chin for a moment. “You know, like gynosexual?”
“Huh?”
“Okay,” Sally sighed with a smile, “gynosexual is someone who’s only atracted to girls basically. Because of this a lot of non-binary people who are only into girls will use it.”
“Alright,” Shadow nodded, to show he was following along.
“But they don’t have to use that if they don’t want to,” Sally added on. “It’s just as normal as if someone identified as a non-binary lesbian. They’re still non-binary and they’re still only atracted to girls. It’s just more up to them how they describe that and identify it.”
“So then, some of them can mean the same thing?”
Sally gave a hum in thought at that. “I guess by a technicality they all mean different things. But it matters more how the individual interprets them, less how society does. It’s your identity, you can call it and describe it however you want.” Sally then smiled and with a chuckle added, “I once had a friend who didn’t know if they were pan or bi for a while but stuck with pan cause they liked the colors of the flag better.” It put its hand back to Shadow’s elbow, letting its fingers run up his fur and to his shoulder affectionately. Comfortingly. “These words aren’t made to hinder anyone or to make anyone feel more lost. They’re made to help and to be comforting. If you don’t find comfort in them then just don’t worry about them. Easy as that.”
“What about you?”
It paused for a moment at the question. “Amy’s probably told you that when it comes to identities I’ve ran with just about everything under the sun at one point or another.”
Shadow nodded.
“Sometimes you just feel differently. You grow and change and that scares people sometimes but honestly it only excites me,” Sally explained. “I like change and growth. It feels good. It feels like the world is still turning and I'm turning with it. Who knows what I’ll feel next, all that matters is what I feel now.”
“Now…” Shadow mumbled to himself, as if to test the word on his tongue.
“What do you feel right now, Shadow?” it asked gently, giving him a patient and soft look.
“I-”
“There you two are!”
Sally and Shadow both whipped over to look towards the shout.
Amy and Sonic were making their way over. Amy was sporting a trans colored skirt while Sonic had on bi colored dog tags.
“We’re glad we found you two before we got split up again!” Amy called happily. She skipped over to take Sally’s arm and slide on a fuzzy non-binary colored wrist band.
“We were on our way to the both of you, too,” Sally explained with a chuckle, smiling at its new gift before giving Amy a peck on the cheek.
Amy let out a giggle before making a sound of surprise, “Shadow!” She grabbed his hand and pulled it to her chest. “Did you talk to Sally about The Thing yet!”
“The Thing?” Sonic questioned looking from Amy to Shadow. “What Thing?”
“Same Thing from before,” Shadow responded.
“Oh! That Thing,” Sonic nodded in understanding. “Wait, you talked to Amy and Sal ‘bout the Thing?”
“I love all three of you so much,” Sally began, snapping all attention to it. “But the next person who says the word ‘thing’ like that I’m going to hit.”
Before anyone could say anything Amy smashed her hand to Sonic’s mouth who only did the same to her in response. The two matched glances and only began to snicker wildly.
“Yes,” Shadow finally responded. His voice laced with fond exasperation. “I had mentioned my thoughts on it all to Amy and then was just now speaking with Sally about it.”
“Soo, then what’s the verdict?” Sonic asked curiously.
Shadow paused, not sure how to answer. Did he even have an answer yet? It really didn’t feel like it.
“How about we go get some food and sit to keep talking about this,” Sally suggested, saving Shadow momentarily.
The group migrated to a nearby cafe and sat at an outside table with their snacks. The cool drinks were a refreshing welcome to the four of them having spent a number of hours in a large crowd in the hot summer sun.
Finally Shadow spoke, bringing back the past three conversations, “I’m questioning a lot of things, I believe.”
“Like?” Sonic questioned.
Shadow tapped his finger on the side of his drink. Frowning into the liquid from behind the transparent plastic. He was thankful for the momentary silence from the other three. A part of him felt nervous under their watchful gazes, but ultimately he understood they only wanted to listen and help. He wanted them to listen and help. There were very few other people he would feel so comfortable talking about such things with. The only other people being Rouge and possibly Omega or Knuckles. Even though some days, Shadow was convinced the latter two were just as lost with the times as he was.
After a moment Shadow let himself lean back into his chair and look up towards the others. “I want to figure out my gender before all else.”
“Sounds like a good place to start.” Sally nodded.
“Got any starting points to jump from?” Sonic asked, pulling the straw of his drink into his mouth to take a loud sip.
Shadow gave a nod. “I don’t believe I’m cis, for one. I’m not sure how I feel viewing myself as a ‘man’. It feels…” He frowned in thought. “Off, somehow.”
“Like a ‘wrong’ off or a ‘to the left’ off?” Amy asked.
Shadow only responded with a confused eye ridge.
“Do you feel you may be a woman, instead,” Sally translated.
The hybrid shook his head. “No. I don’t believe I'm trans.”
“Trans is more than just boy to girl and vice versa,” Sonic added in. “Trans is anything that isn't cis. So like, non-binary shit too.”
“Do you think you might be non-binary?” Sally asked.
Shadow thought for a moment. “Possibly? But I’m not sure to what end.”
“Whaddaya mean?” Amy asked past a mouth full of muffin.
“Non-binary is also an umbrella term, correct? It’s not a third gender. If I am non-binary, I wouldn’t know in what way or in what direction.”
“There doesn’t have to be any direction,” Sonic suggested. “Like, you could be agender. That’s like, no gender kinda thing.”
Shadow mulled over the idea, but ultimately shook his head. “I don’t feel like that’s it.”
“What about demi-boy?” Amy added. “Like boy but not really boy.”
Shadow, one again, shook his head. “No. That’s not it. I don’t feel like…” He sighed and frowned. He wasn’t trying to seem frustrated, and yet the feeling was slowly creeping into every action. He pushed a hand over his face and let out another sigh. “I have a gender. But it has nothing to do in relation to ‘male’ or ‘female’. That is how I feel. At least, as best I can describe it.”
“You don’t have to give it a name, you know,” Sally said. “You can be just non-binary and leave it at that. There’s plenty of people who also just identify as queer and leave it there.”
“Queer is an identity?”
“It can be!” Amy nodded in agreement. “Some people use it as a gender, sexuality, or both!”
Shadow let his canines gently tug at the inside of his lip. Queer sounded simple. It wasn’t some big thing or an unfamiliar sentiment. It felt familiar and natural and… nice. “I think… I think I like that.”
“Oh shit!” Sonic called out, throwing his hands to the air excitedly. “Do you wanna change your pronouns too?”
“Oh, um.” He hadn’t even thought about pronouns. “I still want to keep the masculine ones. But… I think it would be nice to try out ‘they/them’ and see where that leads?”
“Of course!” Amy clapped with a bright smile.
“If you ever want it changed, just tell us,” Sally mentioned. Sonic and Amy nodding along in agreement.
“Alright,” Shadow said. Their own smile forming. The frustration and complicated feelings that had been haunting him all day had begun to dissipate. They continued to rotate the word in his mind.
“Oh! Also!” Amy called out. “Here Shadow, I got you this!” She pulled out a small, braided, rainbow colored bracelet to hand them.
They took it and slid it onto their arm, looking down at it with fondness. “Queer,” they mumbled out. “That feels a lot better.”
#sonic the hedgehog#sonadow#sonamy#sonally#shadamy#shadow the hedgehog#amy rose#sally acorn#fan fic#fiction#writing#mywriting#this took forever for me to post here cause im LAZY ihguyuhi and forgetful so yk Waugh
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I Need You (Kakashi x Reader Smut)
A/n: Oh boy do I got some smutty smut for you. This is my first time writing smut and I think I did okay! Please let me know what you think and, as always, feel free to send some requests my way! 🤍
Summary: You find yourself unbelievably horny waiting for Kakashi to get home from work. The night goes exactly as planned.
Word Count: 4200
Warnings: NSFW ( minors, there's the door -> 🚪), fem!reader, vaginal sex, rough sex, doggy style, cunnilingus
Gods, why am I so horny?
Sat in the reading chair in the corner of your and Kakashi’s bedroom, you find yourself unable to focus on the new novel you picked up at the bookstore this morning. Each time you try to focus on the words in front of you, your eyes start to drift off the page and fall on your bed across the room. The bed where Kakashi and you have had sex now maybe a dozen times. You two have been platonic partners for years, but it wasn’t until recently where you both allowed your feelings to blossom into romance. Some would say that your relationship with Kakashi came on fast, but those who say that don’t truly know either of you.
After the war, and after keeping your feelings for each other bottled down for years, Kakashi took you on a vacation to a quaint village on the outskirts of Konoha. During your stay, you two could finally relax and find comfort in each other. The future seemed less uncertain, and you allowed yourself to open up in ways you never had before. You both knew you loved each other, that you were meant for each other, but the stress of war and the lack of knowledge that either of you would come out alive prevented anything from happening. The last thing either of you wanted to do was take the other’s heart six feet under.
It was the third night on the trip when he proposed to you. Kakashi and you were naked together in the natural hot spring, embracing each other in the water. The words he spoke to you that night are etched in your brain, never to be forgotten.
“My whole life I’ve been fighting; fighting for Konoha, fighting for my team, fighting for our friends, fighting my demons, fighting the truth, and fighting the feelings I have for you. I never understood why it was so hard to escape you, but it isn’t until now where I finally understand. Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever had to do. Our love is so natural, so pure. It pains me to know that our reality has muddled it for so long. You are the best thing that’s ever come into my life, and the gods only know how thankful I am that you have been by my side through it all. Everything I’ve ever gone through, every challenge I’ve had to overcome, you’ve guided me along the way. I used to think I was undeserving of your love, but now that we both are standing here, bruised and battered by our past, I realize that it was always supposed to be this way. You and me. Forever.”
That was the night you and Kakashi shared your first kiss. The night you first held each other in a naked embrace. The night you touched the skin normally concealed under each other's clothes. The night you trailed kisses down his chest, to his stomach, his hip, and up his shaft. The night you grabbed him in your hand and stroked him while looking into his eyes. The night you felt his tongue draw across your nipples. The night you felt him suck and nibble at your neck. The night you felt his fingers, god his fingers, trace up your wet heat to rub onto your most sensitive spot. The night he held onto your hip and slid into your tenderness. The night you whispered sweet nothings in each other's ears while he pumped into you. The night you made love, four times.
It’s been a week since your mini-vacation of ultimate bliss. Immediately after arriving back to the village, you both moved out of your individual apartments and moved into the Hatake estate, per Kakashi’s request. When you asked him if this is truly what he wanted, he assured you that this was the place he wanted to make a home with you and your future children. He also liked that the estate is largely removed from the Hokage tower, where he will be spending the majority of his time in the future. Renovations are far from over, but your bedroom was the first area of the house to be set up. It’s your shared sanctuary, and to be completely honest, you’ve never felt more at home.
The only word to describe this week between you and Kakashi is passionate. Even with opposite schedules, you both make time for one another every day. You’ve been insanely busy at your new job that you acquired post-war, spearheading the mental health resource center for war veterans and shinobi still in active duty. Kakashi is busy shadowing Tsunade while she sorts out post-war rehabilitation plans for the village. This is your first day off and, unfortunately, Kakashi is out doing future Hokage duties. Though frustrating, both of you are super understanding of each other's roles in this village and you respect that time with each other may be limited in the coming years. That’s why any chance you get, you both check in on each other throughout your day. Whether it’s offering to take his ninken on a walk while he’s in the office, or him bringing you breakfast when you get to work, you find opportunities to be present in each other’s daily lives.
The evenings, however, are a whole other story. Both of you are usually home a little after eight, and you’ve adapted to having late dinners with each other. After cleaning up, the rest of the evening is spent wrapped up in each other. One thing you weren’t expecting about being with Kakashi is that he is constantly touching you when you are alone together. His hands are either on your thighs, wrapped in your hair, caressing your face, squeezing your arms, massaging your shoulders, touching your lips, or any other way he can get them on you. You crave his touch, so to say that you enjoy this side of him is an understatement. Not only does Kakashi adore touching you, he also adores being touched.
Touching leads to caressing, caressing leads to groping, and groping leads to passionate lovemaking.
Well, geez (y/n), maybe if you stopped daydreaming about Kakashi’s hands all over you then you wouldn’t be this goddamn horny.
Here’s the thing with you and Kakashi’s newfound sex life. You are in the early stages. All the sex you have is all about romance, making up for the lost time, and finally expressing your feelings with your body. It’s amazing and you wouldn’t change your lovemaking for the world.
But right now, you don’t desire lovemaking. You desire rough, animalistic, dirty, dirty sex.
The kind of sex that makes you shudder in desire and fear.
The kind of sex that makes in between your legs sore the next day.
Realizing you’ve been daydreaming for the past fifteen minutes, you close your novel shut and toss it aside. You look over at the clock on your nightstand to find that it’s almost time for Kakashi to be home. Usually, you would already be cooking something up for dinner, but you have a feeling that any food you make would just get cold. Eating is not your priority right now, Kakashi is.
A devious smile forms at your lips when you consider what you plan on doing with him when he walks through the front door. Should you take him right there? Get down on your knees and beg for him? Run a warm, candle-lit bath? Put whip cream on your tits and tell him that you’re his dinner? All great options, but none are really representative of how much you need him.
In one swift movement, you are up off your chair and running towards your closet. He could be here any minute and there’s no time to waste. Once there, you take in how disorganized your closet is. You have yet to unpack any of your clothes, as all you’ve worn the past week is your jonin uniform and your pajamas. Rummaging through the boxes sprawled out on the floor, you finally find which box you are looking for. The box looks like any other box, but written on the side in marker is the word intimates.
Bingo.
One might think you are a sex fiend with all the lingerie you own, but that is far from reality. The truth is, lingerie has always made you feel sexy. Most of all, it’s just so pretty. You love the power it gives you. You love the fact that no one knows that some days you are wearing the world’s skimpiest lingerie underneath your uniform. It’s like you have an edge on someone that they don't even realize. Also, when you did happen to end up in bed with a man, you were over-prepared. The look on their faces when you stripped off your clothes was priceless. It was your way of telling them that you expected them to want you.
There are way too many options to choose from, and you find yourself starting to panic as time passes on. You know you’re overthinking this as, honestly, Kakashi would love anything you put on. Some things you know about Kakashi are that his favorite color is blue, he loves your thighs and is obsessed with how soft your skin is. Therefore, you should obviously go for the baby blue lace and silk set. It includes a lace balconette bra, a thong connected to thigh garters, and a silk robe to go over the top. After putting it on and taking a look at yourself in the mirror, you knew you made the right choice.
Before finding a comfortable spot on the bed, you quickly grab some baby oil and rub it all over your body. The oil will allow Kakashi to slide his hands all over you effortlessly, which is exactly what you need. Satisfied, you grab your book and lay on top of your made bed. You weren’t planning on actually reading, but you think your casualness while wearing such a sexy outfit will have Kakashi’s head spinning.
So there you were, belly down, ass out, feet intertwined, book in hand, when you heard the lock click and the front door open. Perfect timing.
You could hear Kakashi kick off his shoes and take off his vest as he walked into your home. Usually, you would be standing in the kitchen where he would come and give you a warm embrace and kiss you until you told him that he has to eat dinner. But, you're not there, and you can sense his confusion.
“Where’s my babygirl?” Kakashi’s voice projects throughout the house, a hint of concern in his voice. You smile at the thought of the pout that’s probably on his face right now.
“Sorry sweetheart, I’ve been caught up in my new book. I’m in the bedroom,” you call back to him.
You hear what sounds like a sigh of relief as his footsteps make their way down your hallway in the direction of your bedroom, the sounds of pieces of his uniform dropping off of him every few steps. You make sure to keep your head turned to the door so you can take in his reaction to your state.
“Oh, the new book you got this morning? How is it? Let me guess, you already finished-”
An indescribable feeling shoots through your whole body as Kakashi enters your bedroom. He just finished pulling his mask down his face, as his hand is still caught to the fabric pooling around his neck. With a smile on your face, you soak in his expression as he’s stood in the entrance of your room, a deep blush forming on his cheeks and his mouth still agape in mid-sentence. His eyes dart back and forth from your face to the bottom of your ass that’s hanging out of your silk robe.
Damn, you really did that (y/n).
“What’s wrong, Kashi?” You say in the most innocent voice you can muster. You bat your eyelashes and flip over to sit up so he can get a good look at you. You let your book drop off the bed and land on the floor.
There’s another pause before Kakashi slowly walks towards you on the bed. Without speaking, he reaches a hand out to you. You take it and he pulls you up so you're kneeling on the bed as he stands in front of you. His dark eyes bore into yours as both of his hands drop to your thighs. Slowly, he grazes them up over your hips, your waist, up the sides of your breasts, to wrap around the back of your neck. You can feel the hairs on your skin stand in anticipation. With his hands still wrapped around you, he brings his head down to you and grazes his mouth on your jawline. From there he plants small kisses up the side of your face until he reaches your ear where he nibbles before speaking to you in a strained, low tone.
“You’re a very dangerous woman, (y/n).”
He must have felt you shudder because you could feel him smile against your cheek. Standing up straight again, Kakashi’s hands drop to the tie of your robe around your waist.
“May I?” he asks, giving you the sexiest look you’ve ever seen. Kakashi has been so effortlessly attractive since you met when you were young. Having these intimate moments with him almost seems surreal.
“Of course, Hatake,” you smile up at him.
Taking the tie in his hands, he starts to unravel the knot keeping your robe together. Once loose, he lets it fall over your shoulders and off your body completely.
After a few moments taking in the sight of you, Kakashi lets out a deep sigh and shakes his head.
“You’re so out of my league,” he confesses to you.
You let out a small giggle.
“Absolutely not,” you protest.
Without missing a beat, Kakashi grabs on to you and tosses you back on the bed so you are laying down underneath him. One of his hands wraps around the back of your head while the other cups your breast. Pulling the fabric of your bra down, he kneads your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger. One of his knees lands in between your legs and he brings it up to press on to you. You can’t help the moan that escapes as you feel him all around you.
“So what’s the deal?” Kakashi teases. “I leave you alone in the house for one day and I come back to this?” He looks down at your body and back up again. “Where did you get this outfit, hm?”
“Oh baby,” you start teasing him back, “I guess one thing you don’t know about me yet is that I wear lingerie like this all the time.”
“Oh really?” he questions.
“Yep, all the time.” You smirk at what you’re about to say next. “Actually, remember that one time we were stationed together in the Earth country for a month for that S-rank assassination mission?”
Kakashi nods, confused where you’re going with this story.
“We let our guards down and almost hooked up the last night before we came back to the village.”
“I remember.”
“Well,” you pause for effect, “guess what I was wearing underneath my uniform that night?”
Kakashi remains silent, brows furrowed waiting for you. You smile at him deviously as you say your answer.
“This.”
Kakashi lets out what can only be described as an aroused, defeated groan when you utter your confession. He quickly comes back down and your mouths crash together in a heated frenzy. It isn’t until now when you realize that his bulge is hard against your leg, asking to be broken free from the confinement of his pants. While making out, you reach down and slip your hand under his waistband and grab onto his throbbing cock, stroking it in your hand. Although rock hard, the skin of his cock is soft and velvety.
Kakashi moans in your mouth when you make contact with him, but quickly escapes your grasp and gets up off of you. Sprawled out on the bed, you watch him strip down naked in front of you, starting with his shirt, then his pants and briefs. His body is truly something to marvel at, as decades of being a ninja have carved his body into perfection. You love the way his member slaps against his lower stomach when he pulls it from its confinement, excited and eager for you. He stands for a moment, contemplating what to do with you.
“I don’t want to take that pretty outfit off of you just yet. I guess I’ll just have to work around it for now,” Kakashi says as he stands at the end of the bed. Grabbing your ankles, he pulls you towards him and bends your legs upward until your knees meet your chest. Holding both of your legs up with one hand, he takes the other and spanks your ass cheek with a loud slap. You whimper from the sting while he rubs the mark he left. Kakashi sucks in another loud breath.
“Ugh, (y/n), you look so good for me.”
Before you can respond, Kakashi takes your thong and slides it over so you are exposed to him. Getting down on his knees, he brings his face to your glistening cunt and flattens his tongue against it. There he gives you one long lick up your slit to taste you. A moan erupts from him as your wetness meets his taste buds.
“You’re already so wet for me baby,” Kakashi breathes before going in to suck on you.
“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” you confess through your moans. “I only get this wet for you.”
“That’s because you're mine and mine only.”
Kakashi takes his time with you, almost as if this is his last meal on earth and he wants to savor it. He’s delicate in some moments and fierce in others. Incorporating his fingers, he slides them into you and curves them up to hit your g-spot repeatedly while eating you. Your hand instinctively cradles his face while the other intertwines with his silver locks. You start to feel tightness in your lower stomach as he brings you close to climax. The sound of his moans muffled inside you is enough to send you over the edge.
“Kakashi, baby, I’m gonna-”
“Come for me, baby,” Kakashi nods, giving you permission to let go.
Letting go of Kakashi, you grip onto the sheets around you, feeling the tightness build and drop out of you. Closing your eyes, the waves of ecstasy ripple throughout your body causing you to scream out in pleasure. Riding with you, Kakashi slowly continues to work you through your climax, cleaning up whatever juices spill over.
“Good girl,” He says to you while bringing your legs back down onto the bed. Slowly, he kisses up your thighs while hooking onto your thong, bringing it down off of them. While he does this, you reach around and unclasp your bra, throwing it aside. Once the thong is thrown aside as well, Kakashi lifts himself off the floor and flips you over so you're laying on your stomach, another smack landing on your ass cheek. The high from your orgasm is immediately replaced with anticipation for what he plans on doing to you next.
You feel Kakashi’s naked body slide on top of you until he's flush against your skin, his body completely enveloping yours. Once his face is level with yours, and his cock is hard against your backside, he brushes your hair away from your face.
“Are you ready for me?” Kakashi whispers into your ear.
You nod into the mattress, chest rising and falling with every strained breath.
“You need to use your words, (y/n),” Kakashi scolds you while tucking your hair behind your ear.
“I need you, Kakashi. Please, I need you.” Your words come out as a plea, not being able to take his absence any longer.
You feel Kakashi’s weight lift off of you as he reaches around your waist and lifts it up so your ass is tilted upwards. From there you can feel him position his tip at your entrance, slowly rubbing it up and down to spread your wetness.
“Please, Kashi, I need your cock inside me,” you beg.
Without further hesitation, you feel every inch of him slide into your folds until he’s bottomed out inside you. The feeling of him deep within you sends you into euphoria and you can feel yourself tighten around him.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” Kakashi whispers.
Starting off slow, he pumps into you with control. You feel pleasure and pain as Kakashi kisses your neck while grabbing onto your hair. After each thrust you feel him going faster and harder, your bodies smacking against each other. To gain more leverage, he lifts off of you and brings you up onto your hands and knees. With his hand gripping your shoulder, he pumps into you with ferocity.
“For years I’ve touched myself thinking about getting to fuck you like this baby. You’re so beautiful and so good to me. Everything about your body draws me to you,” Kakashi says in between moans. You feel him start to twitch inside you, his thrusts getting more out of control. You look over your shoulder and meet his gaze.
“We deserve this baby. You deserve this. Give me everything.” You both know your words mean more than just sex, and Kakashi relishes them.
Lifting you up by your neck, Kakashi brings you toward him so you're both kneeling while he continues thrusting inside of you. He brings one hand around your front to circle your clit and the other cups your breast. Your hands lift up behind you to grab onto his face. Turning your head to him, you kiss him with every ounce of passion you have left. This new position is hitting you at your core and you can feel yourself tighten again. Kakashi must have felt it too, as he broke free from your mouth to tilt his head back in pleasure. Without exchanging words, you know you both are at your limit.
With a few last staggering thrusts, both of you reach climax in unison. Feeling yourself go limp, Kakashi wraps his arms around you to keep you steady. You feel streams of his hot semen pool inside of your contracting walls. With Kakashi’s moans singing in your ear, you can’t help but smirk at his vulnerability. With him still inside, you hold onto each other, trying to catch your breaths. After a few beats, you both begin to laugh at your exasperated states.
“Stay here, I’m going to get a towel,” Kakashi says while shifting out of you. After pulling a towel from the cupboard in your bathroom, Kakashi brings it to you and cleans up between your legs. Before you have time to move, Kakashi picks you up bridal style and spins you around in his arms.
You scream and start to laugh as he plants kisses all over your face. “Kakashi!”
“Hm?” he hums in your ear, pretending he didn’t just lift you with little to no effort.
Holding you up with one arm, he grabs a blanket off the bed and carries you to the chair in the corner of your room. There he sits down and places you sideways on his lap so you’re facing each other. He then takes the blanket and wraps it around you both so you can stay warm while cuddling each other. Kakashi has always had a knack for knowing exactly what you want at any given moment.
“I thought we could get some inspiration for our next round,” Kakashi says with a smirk as he pulls out a copy of Icha Icha Tactics from underneath the cushion.
“What? How did that get there?” you laugh.
“Oh, I have multiple copies of these everywhere,” he jokes, waving the book in the air.
You laugh and lightly hit his chest. Tucking the blanket up closer to your face, you lay your head down on Kakashi’s shoulder while he flips open to a page in the book.
Before he starts to read to you, Kakashi lifts your chin to kiss you. Every time your lips touch his, flashes of your joint past enters your mind. Although it was hard, and you faced many difficult trials on the way, you are forever thankful that you were both able to live long enough to experience these moments. You took care of each other, lifted each other up when they were in the dirt, and now you can finally share the love you’ve always held for each other. You wouldn’t change any of it. After your kiss, before pulling away from you, Kakashi looks deep into your eyes.
“I love you, (y/n).”
You smile up at him, tears brimming in your eyes.
“I love you too, Kakashi. Forever.”
-
A/n cont.: Well, whattdaya think? :)
#kakashi#kakashi hatake#kakashi fanfic#kakashi fanfiction#kakashi x reader#hatake kakashi#kakashi imagine#naruto fanfiction#kakashi x you#kakashi x y/n#kakashi one shot#kakashi x yn#kakashi sensei#kakashi smut#kakashi hatake smut
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hi, this is my first ever ask so I'm not sure I'm doing this correctly, if that's the case I'm sorry; I don't know how tumblr works just yet >:')
would it be possible for you to write something about bakugo, pining incredibly hard for fem!reader and initially hating how strongly he feels about her? because they're not even friends, they only exchange few words occasionally and she doesn't even glance at his way whereas he slowly finds himself unable to divert his eyes from her during classes? shes always with damn deku and his friends and doesn't even seem interested in him at all but his heart can't ignore the way she looks at him proudly whenever they spar together, the way she sends him small confident smiles as they fight each other with all they have; so he thinks that maybe, maybe he might have a chance. basically bakugo liking reader so much he's completely lost in self-hatred because he always thought feelings were for weak romantics and not great people like him, but everytime he sees reader doing some badass things (again, like sparring with him and basically matching his skills etc...) he's reminded of how badly he likes reader? but when he finally accepts he's fallen for reader, after ignoring and trying to forget about how she makes him feel, he masters up the courage to confess? and it's a very clumsy confession because he's awkward and has no idea how to deal with those feelings? and he tries so hard to make reader realise he's never been more serious than now? and reader is startled and speechless before rejecting him? and at that point he's just completely humiliated, so he nods and walks away.
it might be a little dramatic but I've always been into unrequited love and one-sided pining. thank you, its okay if you don't want to write about this, i'll understand <33
𝓫𝓻𝓾𝓽𝓪𝓵 - 𝓴. 𝓫𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓰𝓸𝓾
character(s): katsuki bakugou x fem!reader (my hero academia)
reblogs are greatly appreciated!
a/n: AHHHHH this is so cute <33 honestly this is super exciting for me and this ask made me so happy, lovey. i’m fairly new to tumblr, i’m usually just a reader but i wanted to migrate here from wattpad so this made me so happy. here u are my love <33 i hope this lives up to what u wanted !! :)) a bit lengthy, but i had a lot of fun writing it !!!
summary: bakugou finds he’s rejecting his feelings for you in fear of becoming weak, however he just can’t seem to ignore you.
genre: fluffy, fluffier than the clouds istg, however the clouds are sprinking a little teeny weeny droplet of angst.
warnings: cursing (bakugou, duhh), one-sided pining (on bakugou’s part) second hand embarrassment (on bakugou’s part bc we can all agree he’s a complete idiot when it comes to trying to get someone’s attention), just bakugou being a jackass, i gave the reader a quirk
word count: 3,859
(pls excuse any typos or mistakes, i edited to the best of my ability but i miss some things sometimes !)
- - -
part 2 is here my loves <3
brutal. it was utterly ruthless. he couldn’t focus, couldn’t think right. his hands were already exceptionally sweaty, but gosh when he saw your damn face, he was ready to explode. literally.
what the hell was it about you? was it your stupid smile? or the way you just seemed to carry every battle on your back? was it all the undeniably sweet things you do for others ‘just because’?
it made him angry that he thought about you, but gosh he couldn’t wait to see you every day.
just like any other day, bakugou found himself staring at the large door to the classroom, awaiting the moment you would bounce into his day, skirt shifting around your legs, bag slung loosely around your shoulders.
his leg was bouncing eagerly.
bakugou didn’t know when the feelings came. his cheeks just started flaring up all of a sudden and one day you just looked...different. you hadn’t done anything different to yourself. it was just him. not that he would ever admit that, to you or anybody else.
you were insufferable. you were stupid and obnoxious and so...so damn...
“y/n! come look at this!”
you’d come walking into class just as expected, and as soon as you did, that stupid nerd had called you over.
it didn’t help that deku sat right behind him, either. the two of you had recently gotten closer. bakugou noticed it last month when he yelled at the two of you to shut up about all might and get to work. he’d turned around to find you leaning over deku, hands resting on his shoulders while you peered at his phone.
“sorry, bakugou,” you’d said, barely acknowledging him. you had waved him off like an annoying fly. is that all you were to him? some nuisance that got in the way of your oh-so-entertaining conversations with deku?
all he heard nearly every day was your chipper voice talking to deku. always, “oh my gosh, midoriya, did you see the fight edgeshot was in last night?” or “midoriya! i have something to add to our quirk analysis book!”
that was the one that took the cake. you two dorks shared a notebook, occasionally passed between one another, and filled it with junk about quirks and pro heroes. but no matter how much he tried to tune you out, no matter how he tried to zone off and think about something else, you were always there. it made him want to vomit how much he thought about you.
you were doing an adorable shuffle over to midoriya’s desk and leaned over the table as you usually did while he angled his phone your way. “did you see this hero report?”
deku let you slip the phone out of his grasp to get a better look.
“no,” you breathed. “was this just recent?”
“yeah,” deku said, taking the phone back. “last night.”
“holy—”
“can you guys shut up over there?” bakugou said, his voice quaking.
“sorry, kacchan.” deku scrolled through the article.
dammit, bakugou thought. “i wasn’t talking to you, nerd. i was talking to shitface over here.” he jerked his head towards you. his eyes flared in anger when he saw you were looking down at your phone, now focused in on the article yourself. “i was talking to you, asshat!”
your eyes flicked up to his. you looked around for a moment before slowly pointing to yourself as if to say, “me?”
his face scrunched. “yeah, you. you’re so damn loud.” gosh, he hated how his voice was cracking, how he could feel his ears and cheeks lighting up in a swollen, cherry red. his stomach flipped.
she’s looking at you, gosh i’m sweating. i’m going to throw up. she’s so gorgeous. what the hell? they’re ugly as shit, i don’t think anything of them.
his eyes bore into yours.
“did you...need something?”
your voice broke his trance.
“kacchan, are you okay? you dozed off there for a second. you look like you’re burning up.”
bakugou looked to deku who was currently stretching out of his seat, arm extended. he pressed the back of his hand to bakugou’s forehead. “you’re really warm, kacchan. should we call recovery girl?”
it took him a moment to realize what was happening. his vision got blurry every time he was with you. bakugou smacked deku’s hand away. “i’m fine!” his voice lifted at the end, cracking. “i’m not sick. don’t you think i’d take better care of myself?”
“i don’t doubt you take good care of yourself, kacchan, but everyone gets sick once in a while. there’s nothing wrong with that.”
“i never get sick!” besides, if i got sick, i wouldn’t want you to be the one taking care of me.
he was still pissed. he was always in a bad mood, however, more so right now because you’d gone straight back to your phone and that stupid hero article that was supposedly so damn interesting.
soon enough, the bell rang, and you were seated at your desk. it was jirou’s old spot, however, after much convincing, you two had switched spots so you could be closer to deku. just a few months of getting close to the idiot and you two are suddenly best friends. jirou hadn’t minded one tiny bit, claiming she needed a break from how loud that section of the room was.
late as always, aizawa came trudging into your room. thankfully, his entire body wasn’t obscured by a yellow sleeping bag that smelled of something unwashed and coffee and gasoline. (for some reason, aizawa’s clothes always smelled of it.)
“lucky for you,” he began while shuffling papers on his desk, “all of you are doing training for these first periods.”
the class cheered in perfect unison, followed by their individual chatter. you had erupted with glee along with them, and bakugou was sure he felt his heart clench and then explode. just a tiny bit. but he shoved the feeling down just as quickly as it had come up.
“go out to the field and wait for further instructions. don’t make a sound in the halls otherwise, i’ll expel all of you.”
this shut everyone up in almost a second, the sound draining out just as water does. the first years trailed out into the hall, single-file mimicking the positions baby ducklings would take when following their mother.
bakugou found himself walking faster when he saw you take up your spot in the line, hoping to land his spot right behind you.
unfortunately, this idiot who considered himself bakugou’s friend tugged him back. “bakugou!” a familiar voice rasped.
“shitty hair, let go of me.”
“hey man, chill out. wanna partner up if we’re doing training in pairs?”
bakugou glanced at the line, the spot that should have been reserved for him now taken up by sato.
bakugou tugged his sleeve from kirishima’s hand. “whatever,” he snapped.
“sounds good!” kirishima flashed him a toothy grin and a thumbs-up. the bubbly feeling in bakugou’s chest died down as he stood behind sato, the overwhelming scent of sugar filling his nose, various candies that would go straight to your arteries.
“you smell like ass, damn,” bakugou remarked, squeezing his nostrils together.
luckily, sato was tall enough to not hear the insult, as he towered over bakugou by just another head. the line began moving like a sloppy train down to the change rooms.
bakugou scoffed as he listened to your giggle. he should be making you laugh.
-
“you’ll be given partners randomly from this box.” aizawa held up a familiar red box. “inside are all your names. i’ll select one, then that person will come up and pick another name from the box. that will be your assigned partner for today. as soon as you have your assigned partner, i want you guys to get straight to work.”
denki raised a hand, speaking before being called on. “sensei, why are we getting random partners? we’re always allowed to choose.”
“in the real world, you’re going to come across different villains every day. you’ll never improve your skills or your quirks if you keep fighting the same person.”
denki sighed, slumping back.
dammit, bakugou thought, gritting his teeth together. there wasn’t any way he wanted to be partners with you. it’s obvious he’d win the fight in the first few seconds.
yes! exactly right! bakugou internally grinned. his fluctuating feelings had finally soothed themselves. you were just another extra, and he had no room for you in his head.
aizawa took a moment to fiddle with the slips of paper inside the box. soon enough, he pulled out a name. “todoroki.”
todoroki walked up, digging his hand into the box when aizawa held it out for him. he pulled out a name, delicately unraveling the slip. “uraraka, you’re my partner.” he deadpanned.
the brunette grinned. “great!”
the two found their own spot on the field, and the class’s attention was once again diverted to their grouchy teacher as he pulled out another name.
“bakugou.”
bakugou strutted up without a worry in his mind. he pulled a name to find...
“y/n,” he said, voice a low growl. instead of the annoying fluttering in his chest, his eyes met yours, and they were filled with a different, new ferocity. he crumpled the paper in one hand, letting it twirl to the ground.
you looked at him, unsmiling. your eyes gave away nothing, and to bakugou’s knowledge, all you saw in him was another opponent.
it took him a moment to realize you had both locked eyes for about a minute. perhaps the two of you would have stayed as you were if aizawa hadn’t snapped at the two of you to get moving as yaomomo’s name was called.
bakugou was on his way to the back of the field, you followed close behind. while there was plenty of room still, he chose a secluded area. while it was still open enough to view everything going on so nobody got hurt, it was often nobody chose to train here. for whatever reason, you weren’t sure.
“wait up, bakugou,” you said. after a bit, you caught up to him.
“if you can’t keep up, then...” then what? he looked at you from the side of his eye. “then don’t keep up...” gosh, here came the embarrassing, disgusting feeling of redness in his cheeks.
you laughed. “what?”
“shut up.”
“you’re an idiot, bakugou.”
“i said shut the hell up!”
“what, so you can call me shitface in front of the entire class but you get all pissed when i call you an idiot?”
so you had heard him!
he tongued his cheek, curling his hands around an invisible ball, explosions sparking in the centers of his palms. “don’t expect me to hold back, dumbass.”
“i wouldn’t dream of it.”
gosh he loved that about you.
bakugou caught his thought in the air.
ahem...gosh he hated that about you.
you both charged in at the same time. his cry was louder than yours, but you struck first.
he admired your quirk. while he’d overhead you explaining all the drawbacks it had, it was strong, and you were strong because you knew how to control it.
purple arrows flew from your arms, going in your desired directions. if you lost focus for one moment, they’d vanish and weaken. if you focused too hard or long, you’d be plagued by a splitting headache.
he’d spent too much time obsessing over your strengths and weaknesses.
your arrows were weightless, however they were solid objects capable of carrying any mass, any thing, and worked as extensions of your body.
the violet arrow had shot out at him, twisting around his right gauntlet and crushing inwards. it’d snaked around him without him noticing, slithering along his back.
bakugou struggled to get the air-light arrow off his wrist, but it was no use. he glared back, only to see your focused, furrowed brows. he’d expected to see your cocky ass smiling. it was nice to see you weren’t.
that was one thing that had also caught his eye. you never underestimate your opponent, but you never underestimate yourself, either.
you conjured a larger arrow. it snaked around your right arm as you hurled bakugou into the air, releasing your grasp on him. you shot your other arrow into the air, and it raced into the sky.
it swerved. bakugou’s eyes went wide as the tip of the arrow came down on his chest. if they weren’t intangible things, he would have been bleeding out.
another drawback: the arrows, while they could solidify, they couldn’t do any actual damage. you had to use your surroundings to inflict harm on your opponent.
he coughed out as the arrow shot him into the ground. he hadn’t even touched you, and here he was, vulnerable and so...so...
you stood over him, hands on your hips.
vulnerable and so lost in that adorable, winning smile.
“get away from me, idiot,” he grunted and turned onto his side, his back crying out in pain.
“i think i won this fight, bakugou,” you chirped, rocking on your heels.
“don’t get arrogant, shithead. you won’t be winning against me anymore.”
you grinned, arrows shooting out behind your back.
-
the dorms were exceptionally quiet. you were typing away in the common room, bakugou on the couch reading. everyone was off doing something else. it was the weekend, luckily. he’d expected you to go bounding out with everyone else, however you’d stayed back, claiming you had some homework to catch up on.
bakugou being classic bakugou had stayed back. he was excited to have the dorm to himself, but your dumbass was stuck here with him. couldn’t you have done your typing in your room?
you were so aggressive on that poor keyboard.
“oi, quiet down with your shit typing.”
you barely grunted in response.
“don’t ignore me.”
“i heard you, mom.”
“the hell did you call me?”
no response. only your aggressive typing is a bit less aggressive.
“i can still hear it,” bakugou remarked, eyes fixed on your back.
“‘kay,” you said. your typing slowed a tad, and your pressure on the keys lessened.
it was quiet now. bakugou should go back to his book. he shouldn’t still be looking for a reason to talk to you.
the pages crinkled in his fingers. he bit his tongue, keeping his snarky comments in.
“you’re a fucking idiot, you know that? doing your damn homework. it’s due tomorrow.”
you turned, pursing your lips. “and how would you know what i’m working on? are you stalking me?”
“i- what? no. you’re such an idiot, of course i’m not—”
“i’m messing with you,” you breathed, face un-moving.
“o-oh,” bakugou stuttered out. he blinked awkwardly.
“gosh, what’s gotten your panties in a twist?”
“you’re annoying.”
“you’re a jackass.” you returned to your work. bakugou settled with reading in his room. reading consisted of jumping onto his bed just as the stereotypical high school girl would in an eighties movie. he buried his face in his pillow, face burning bright red. he cursed you for making him feel this way, and hated himself even more for how much he enjoyed it.
-
the next day came swiftly. you’d left early to go train with midoriya. there were many improvements needed to be made, but you weren’t doing too bad.
you propelled yourself forwards with an arrow, and your green-haired friend shot back, lightning flickering around his body.
landing back on the ground, you panted and swiped the sweat from your brow. from the corner of your eye, you could make out both kirishima and bakugou coming to the training grounds.
bakugou stopped in his tracks, frowning at the sight of you.
it was evident he hated you a bit more than everyone else. he was always making his annoying comments, he was always snubbing you. you saw no reason to talk to him, so you didn’t. either way, even if you tried, he would still get angry for no reason.
it’d taken you quite some time to get used to his obnoxious attitude. tuning him out had been the best course of action, in your opinion.
the way you and midoriya had bonded was through bakugou, in a way. the first day of school, bakugou had snapped at you for tripping over your laces and nearly crashing into him. later that day, midoriya had stepped up and apologized for his old friend’s actions.
you two had never been too close until now. the recent incidents going on with the league of villains had snagged your attention, and it seemed you were the only person who didn’t mind listening to him ramble on about heroes.
you were just as passionate and just as dorky, but midoriya could talk your ear off. you never minded, and he always took the hint when you didn’t want to listen.
you brought your leg up, twirling in the air with ease and watched your heel collide with midoriya’s face. he grunted, stumbling back.
you were about to charge in again when a hand landed on your shoulder, big and rough. you turned to see bakugou standing behind you, a scowl on his face.
“fight me again,” he demanded.
“excuse me?”
“don’t act like you didn’t hear me.”
“i’m in the middle of fighting midoriya right now.”
“so?”
“so if you think that i’m just going to ditch my friend because you want to fight, i won’t.”
“you’re being stubborn.”
“i’m being reasonable. back off.”
“y/n?” midoriya rubbed his jaw—right where you had struck him. “what’s going on?” he jogged up to you and bakugou.
“he wants to fight me in the middle of our fight. it’s nothing serious. don’t worry about it, midoriya. let’s just ignore him.”
bakugou made a sound someone would only make if they were choking. “the hell did you just say?”
“we’re ignoring you!” you waved him off and placed your hand on midoriya’s shoulder, wandering away.
-
it was new to him, not getting what he wanted. and what he wanted right now was to be around you. again, it wasn’t like he would ever admit that to himself.
“dude? you good? i thought you went off to fight y/n. i was so ready to cheer you on, dude,” kirishima’s chipper voice piped in. “she’s not fighting with you? why not?”
“the dumbass was just probably scared of getting her ass beat by me.”
“dude...that sounds really weird.”
“whatever, shitty hair. let’s go.”
-
the clock ticked. his ears were on fire. again.
gosh, it was happening again. it was all you. his face scrunched up, his voice would surely crack if someone were to ask him what was wrong.
bakugou was once again stuffing his face in his pillow, hiding his expression from no one. why did you have to go train with that shitty nerd? why were you always around deku? deku, of all people. what did he have? why was he so great?
bakugou was a man of many insecurities, but losing to deku? that was possibly his biggest fear.
perhaps he wasn’t the nicest, or the most soft person out there. bakugou could admit that, at least. but he was smarter than deku. he was stronger and he was better and people liked him more. right?
what was so...amazing about deku?
it was often bakugou would find himself obsessing over little, insignificant things such as these.
you were what he was thinking of most of the time. just yesterday, he’d gotten a test returned. he was expecting an eighty at the lowest, but more so expecting a high ninety. it’d come back exactly sixty percent.
sixty. percent.
bakugou vividly remembered staring at your face. he also remembered not being able to focus because of it. his grades were dropping because of you.
you were the only person to be able to do this to him.
his heart grew quiet, but the pounding of his didn’t cease. he lifted his head.
“alright, fine,” he said aloud. “you win, y/n. you win.”
he settled with getting over his feelings the way he’d read them in his collection of romance manga.
bakugou left his room and knocked on your door. (he was banging on it, but it was his nice way of knocking.)
you answered, looking around awkwardly. “yes?”
his hands shook. how was this supposed to go? sure, he’d seen it in romance movies and read it in books but it was always easy to tell whether the guy would get the girl or not.
in this instance, bakugou was clueless. for once in his life, he was clueless. you stood, tapping your foot with a hand on your hip, waiting expectantly for him to tell you why he was here.
“um.” he scratched behind his neck. “you uh- i uh...i’m sorry i called you a, um...a shitface.”
“okay? is that it?”
what? come on! it was already unlike him to apologize. what else did you want from him?
“did you...i’ve been thinking, maybe? maybe we could..train together as...friends?”
“...what?”
gosh dammit, as friends?
“whatever, um...the uh...” oh gosh, what did the boys do in all the books he’d read? right! bakugou stretched out his arm, resting his forearm on the door, leaning to the side.
although he didn’t, really, because like the clumsy jackass he was, bakugou missed completely and nearly toppled to the floor.
this earned a snicker from you.
his stomach flipped and churned, and bakugou found himself unable to reach your eyes. “uh, would you maybe..? okay, um. do you want to go on a date with me? you absolute fucking dumbass.”
your eyes flew wide. “...what?”
“no, that’s not what i— i mean i didn’t mean the last part. um, i meant the first part. the first two parts. the part where i was asking you if you wanted to go on a date with me and then before that when i said maybe because it’s still a maybe until you say yes. or...or no because that’s an option too.”
he swallowed.
you resisted the urge to mock him, just a little bit. “um, bakugou, listen.”
he leaned closer. “yes?”
“it’s going to be a no. i’m sorry, but i’m just not interested in you like that.”
it took him a moment to register everything. his shoulders sagged. gosh that was brutal.
“oh, alright.”
“yeah, uh, sorry about that.” you offered him a weak smile, still a bit shocked yourself. he did his best to return it, and when you closed the door, his face was ready to explode.
it was so damn difficult to deal with these feelings, but maybe it was better this way. knowing where you stood on your end, he knew he wouldn’t miss out on anything.
perhaps it was alright to admire from afar. things could happen in the future, right?
right now, he’d just wait. for a long, long time. bakugou pressed a hand to his chest, feeling his erratic heartbeat. maybe it was alright to not have you right now. perhaps he could better himself for you. just for you.
#bakugou fluff#bakugou angst#bakugou katuski x reader#bakugou#bnha#mha#x reader#fanfic#fanfiction#izuku midoriya#deku#my hero academia#uraraka#angst#fluff#ask#request#anime#bakugou x reader#uraraka ochacho#boku no hero academia#boku no hero bakugou#kacchan#todoroki#kirishima#mha eijirou#eijirou kirishima#denki kaminari
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How do you think Megatron would react when he finally admits to himself he has feelings for an organic?
Man, I love writing Megatron in love. Headcanons/scenario below the cut, thanks for the request; enjoy!
I feel like Megatron would try to ignore it at first, just like he would with feelings for another Cybertronian, but much, much worse.
Organic aside, relationships aren’t really something he believes are meant for him. He’s a Decepticon leader, he can’t show weakness, and if he dares to get close to someone, there’s a good chance that they could be used against him. So generally speaking, he keeps his distance.
But then you come along.
You have a bad interaction with the Autobots; one of them accidentally wrecks your house in a battle and offers you no compensation or even another place to say, only apologizing before running off, so you do some research on Cybertronians, find out about the Decepticons, and somehow do enough digging to find their base.
Megatron is shocked when you show up one day and pledge your allegiance to him and to the Decepticon cause, but when you explain your reasoning, he can tell that you’re genuine; Autobots are martyr-complex-having, inconsiderate fools who do what they can to look good and act like they’re doing ‘right’, their council is a bunch of stuck up pricks who don’t allow anyone to be an individual or have freedom, and they all act like they’re a working part of a system instead of their own mech/femme with an actual personality. Megatron is kinda like... yeah, okay, whatever. He almost tries to blow you off, but Shockwave and Soundwave argue that you could reveal some weaknesses that the humans have and that you’re an unthreatening enough figure that you could be used as a productive spy. So, he keeps you around and gives you a place to stay on base.
At first, he acts indifferent towards you; you’re a gross, human fleshbag that he wants nothing to do with outside of work, but he sees that you and Soundwave get along since you share a lot of the same ideals about humans needing to do their own work instead of relying on robots to do it for them, and you and Shockwave are actually quite friendly. Hell, you and Lugnut and Blitzwing even make a great trio. So, indirectly, without even realizing it at first, Megatron becomes fond of you through observing your conversations with the others. You’re respectable, brave, bold, honest, and you’re fully self-aware. He finds that, unlike the other humans, he doesn’t mind you; you don’t see him or his cause as evil and actually treat him with respect, and you don’t run or cower or act shy around him either- that shit gets on his nerves.
He knows it’s a bad idea, but he starts talking to you personally. In his berth room, you two exchange intel you’ve collected, and afterwards, you always hang around for an hour or so for in-depth discussions, about your lives and dreams and hopes and philosophies. He frequently finds himself sharing ancient data tablets containing Decepticon works of literature on them with you, and eventually, the two of you have/develop a lot in common.
Not all humans are gross like he thought they were initially, he realizes... In fact, though he’d never say so out loud, you smell nice and the few fleeting touches he’s had with you are always pleasant because of how warm and soft you are.
The first time he thinks about the rapid pace of the relationship the two of you have cultivated and about his feelings for you is after you’re injured. Your cover as a spy gets blown and surprisingly enough, you mention to escape Optimus Prime and the other four members of his team, but you come back sustaining some rough cuts/gashes from when Prowl chucked his shuriken at your clothes to try to pin you to the wall with them; they’re all along your arms, legs, and a few even managed to graze your sides.
You return to the base bloodied and beaten from their attempts to detain you, and though Soundwave and Shockwave (who are easily your best friends at that point) insist that they’re fully capable of handling your medical care, Megatron realizes that he wants to do it himself- doesn’t know why he wants to do it, just knows that he does and that no one is going to stop him. So, he takes you to the med bay and uses the small amount of human medical equipment they obtained for you to disinfect your wounds as you walk him through the process verbally, stitches the ones that need stitching, and wraps/bandages them. It involves you being half-clothed, and though he certainly isn’t going to ogle you like a pervert, he can’t help how his intake hitches at being so close to you when you’re so exposed and vulnerable. It just feels very intimate, and it’s something he’s not used to; no one has dared touch him in thousands of years outside of battle, nor has he touched another outside of such context.
You have to stay in the med bay overnight so that your vitals can be monitored and you can have your dressings changed and antibiotics given to you to prevent your wounds from getting infected. Megatron is also sure to give you painkillers if you need them and keep you well-fed/hydrated so you can heal properly.
He stays by your side while you sleep even though he doesn’t need to, watching you. He can’t help but think about how fascinating it is that your body is so fragile, so prone to bloody injuries when even slightly harmed, but you’re so strong and determined and courageous; completely dedicating yourself to his work, his cause, him when you didn’t have to. Part of that was out of your spite and dislike for the Autobots, but he admired that, too. You uprooted your entire life to come help him and the Decepticons, and even though he didn’t dare say something so kind out loud, he couldn’t help but appreciate you. Him taking care of you was just paying it forward.
You sleep peacefully, chest rising and falling with every breath you take and (s/c) cheeks dusted red. Occasionally, you’ll toss and turn, but at one point, you reach out for his servo in your sleep, so he takes your hand and holds it tight. If anyone ever saw him so tender and weak, he’d be done for, but you were asleep, so he figured it was fine- no one needed to know how much he loved you, not even you.
Oh.
Oh no. He loved you. As fate would have it, it all crashed down on him at once as he sat there, holding your hand. He had gone from assuming you were some disgusting human bag of flesh he wanted nothing to do with, to begrudgingly accepting you to help his cause, to respecting you, to befriending you, to... Falling in love with you. What terrible luck... Maybe it was his punishment for terrorizing organics for so many years, that he just so happened to fall in love with one.
The second he realizes it, he can’t deny it. You recover from your injuries well with Megatron by your side assisting you, but the more time he spends around you, the worse his feelings get, and he’s old enough that he’s not the kind of fool who pushes his feelings away. Instead, he wallows in them, bathes in them, drowns in them, and he drowns in you. It’s really horrible that he, a being so large and powerful and responsible for mass destruction, is so enamored with you, a being so small and delicate and honest. You’re an unfortunate soul, and if you love him back, it’s even worse.
It comes out naturally one of the nights that you’re locked up in his room together discussing some Decepticon poetry you read recently. It was one of his favorite works, and you seemed like you’d enjoyed it, too. Silence falls between you for a moment before he says, “I love you, (y/n). I never thought I’d stoop as low as to fall for an organic, but you’re the only one worth falling for, and Primus, have I fallen.”. The atmosphere doesn’t go tense or awkward, and you only smile up at him, putting the data tablet with the poem on it down on his night table before turning to him.
“And I thought I’d never fall for the leader of an alien robot rebellion, but here I am, and you’re worth falling for, too.”
It’s peaceful, nothing heated or tense but tender and relaxing as he pulls you into his arms and holds you close to him... Maybe being in love with an organic wasn’t so bad, after all.
#tfa#transformers#transformers animated#megatron#tfa megatron#megatron x reader#tfa megatron x reader#ask#asks#my asks#request#requests
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Growing Into Your Own
Diavolo | Obey Me!
Muscle growth, muscle worship, macro
Warning, NSFW
Your time spent with Diavolo was always some of your favorite. When you first arrived, little did you realize that the Lord of the Devildom would quickly become not only one of your closest friends, but even something a little more.
It wasn't uncommon for Diavolo to summon you to his opulent home for coffee, tea, or simply to spend the evening talking with you. Barbatos never seemed to mind the extra company, likely because it was good for the Master of the house to have someone else to talk to. That, and you were fairly good about cleaning up after yourself.
Today was no different. Diavolo had summoned you to his office to chat while he finished paperwork. Something seemed slightly off, however. You were never really one to notice the smaller details, but you couldn't help but take note at every time Diavolo tugged at his collar or attempted to pull his sleeves down.
"Dia, is something wrong? You've been tugging at your suit a ton since I got here," you asked, curious. He simply smiled.
"Ah, no no. Nothing's wrong. It's just...a touch tight. I suppose Barbatos must have shrunk it in the wash!"
"I assure you, I did not such thing Master Diavolo," Barbatos stated, entering the room to refill Diavolo's tea. "There is...another matter of concern. Perhaps our guest should depart so we might discuss this matter privately?"
Diavolo seemed ready to protest, but a sharp glance from Barbatos quieted him before he had the chance. He sighed. "I suppose it is getting late. I'll see you again tomorrow, yes? We can have one of those 'slumber parties' you said humans like to have!"
You laughed, but Diavolo simply beamed his bright smile. With no reason to protest, you gathered your things and headed back to the House of Lamentation. You couldn't help but wonder what exactly the two needed to discuss, however. Even more confusing is how it could possibly be related to Diavolo's clothing being tight.
"I'll be Barbatos just didn't wanna admit he messed up in front of ya," Mammon said at dinner that night. "Dude's obsessed with perfection, he just didn't want ya to think he was anythin' less than perfect."
Mammon squealed as Lucifer smacked him in the back of the head with a rolled up paper.
"There is a good enough reason why they needed to discuss matters without a human present, Mammon. It has little to do with perfection. It simply is not their business, or yours for that matter."
"Then you know what they're talking about?" You asked, knowing that Lucifer wouldn't tell you even if he did know. The frown that settled on his face was answer enough.
"Unfortunately," he replied, "Whatever this issue is it is one they've decided does not concern me. It is worth stating that Diavolo has been complaining about his clothing for some time now, at least a week. I'm surprised that it just now became an actual issue. Regardless, we all need to keep our noses out of royal Devildom business. Am I understood?"
You and all the brothers gave a quick nod. Lucifer smiled, and dinner continued. Despite everything, you couldn't shove the issue out of your head. In a way it was almost exciting to think about all the possibilities. Your mind raced with theories as you drifted off to sleep.
You returned to Diavolo's castle later the next day, only to be greeted by the towering demon dressed in a dragon onesie.
"What do you think?" he asked, turning around to show off the fine details, "I heard that humans dress in fun nightwear for events such as these, so I had Barbatos make this special. Is it nice?"
"I love it, Dia," you said with a smile, laughing at Diavolo's antics, "It suits you. Though, I see you more as a teddy bear than a dragon myself."
Diavolo smiled, and wrapped you in a massive hug.
Demons, on average, were already larger than humans. Even the relatively short Mammon and Asmodeus were still both slightly taller than you. Large demons like Beel and Diavolo, however, towered over you. You always considered yourself lucky that they were so kind, because you could only wonder how things would be if these two titans decided to use their size against you.
Diavolo's strong hand enveloped your own as he led you to his home theater like am excited child. He gleefully informed you of all the movies and snacks he had planned for the two of you as you both settled down into massive beanbags. Your seat didn't last long, however, as you were soon sitting comfortably in Diavolo's lap with his arms wrapped around you.
You both sat in quiet comfort watching some cheesy romcom when you felt something throb beneath you. You were taken aback- Diavolo wasn't the type to be...like that. Then you felt it again, realizing that Diavolo's legs appeared to be tensing up. Looking up to him, you noticed him wincing slightly. A small groan escaped his lips.
"Dia...? Everything ok?"
"Y-yeah. I...I think my legs are asleep is all. Let me just...urgh....stand up."
You rose from Diavolo's lap as he rose to unsteady legs. You couldn't help but feel like he looked slightly larger than before. It was subtle, but it was almost as if his onesie had begun to cling to him where it had once hung off of him.
Diavolo groaned again and nearly stumbled over as Barbatos entered the room with a new tray of food. Barbatos quickly placed the tray down and rushed to his master's side to hold him up.
"Is Dia ok, Barbatos? He seems out of it."
"The Master has simply been overworking himself recently, that's all. Exhaustion is beginning to get to him."
"No, Barbatos," Diavolo groaned, "It's finally coming, I just can't hold it back any longer. We need to be honest with them. They'll find out soon enough anyway."
"..Very well," Barbatos said, turning towards you. Diavolo sat back down as Barbatos began to speak.
"Lord Diavolo, as you are well aware, is lord of the Devildom. It is more than a title. You may consider it...something like a race. He is unlike the other demons you've met here. He is far more powerful, not simply because of his station but because he is naturally more inclined towards power. Part of his natural aging involves what you humans could almost consider a second puberty, a period of time when he finally fully matures and can be considered ready to take the crown of the Devildom for his own."
"What does...what does that actually involve?" you asked, watching Diavolo breathe heavily in his seat.
"You may have noticed the young Master tugging at his clothing recently. It's been a slow process thus far, but part of this evolution involves Lord Diavolo increasing drastically in physical size. This is no longer common knowledge, but Lord Diavolo's father was large enough to completely fill this room. Lord Diavolo will likely be that size when this process is completed, and based on what we are currently seeing, the process will be completed tonight."
"Wait, hold on! You're saying Dia is gonna completely fill this room tonight? Sure he's big, but he's nowhere close to being that big."
"It will cease being a slow process soon enough. Lord Diavolo is entering the final stage, and it will all happen relatively quickly. I recommend-"
Before Barbatos could finish, Diavolo let out a large groan. Both you and Barbatos' eyes snapped towards the demon prince as his entire body began to tremble and pulsate. The sound of tearing fabric began to fill the room as Diavolo's body began to push outwards in all directions. The onesie struggled to hold on as Diavolo's body began to tear through it, each muscle increasing in size and thickness. His feet were first to break free, tearing away Diavolo's slippers with his toes curling in seeming pain. His arms and legs followed, his swelling biceps and thighs tearing through the cloth like it was merely tissue paper. As each second passed, Diavolo's body grew larger and large with more and more muscle packing onto his steadily taller frame. His groans slowly became moans. The process was clearly no longer painful.
Sure enough, Diavolo's cock broke free of his pants and flopped about in front of him, throbbing half-erect. He breathed heavily as pre began to drip from the tip, the cock continuing to grow with his body. You felt your cheeks grow hot, embarrassed to watch the obscene display but finding yourself aroused by the process.
"L-love," Diavolo panted, his horns and wings erupting from his head and back, "p...please..."
You looked to Barbatos who was nowhere to be seen. With no one to tell you otherwise, you climbed Diavolo's powerful thighs and placed yourself atop his expanding lap. You wrapped your own legs around his cock, the entire thing reaching up to your chin, and began to stroke it gently with both hands. You carefully ran both hands over the tanned skin, feeling every muscle and tendon in the cock with care before steadily picking up the pace. The cock stood at attention, and Diavolo's entire body shuddered in response. Without thinking you placed your mouth around the tip as best as you could, and began licking. Diavolo moaned in ecstasy as the cock throbbed with newfound power in your mouth. You felt the pressure within slowly build until it erupted outwards. Unable to remove your head in time, a large amout of Diavolo's seed found its way into your mouth before you were thrown backwards from the force of the eruption. The cock continued to let loose powerful stream after stream of semen until the room was nearly completely covered in it. When the stream finally abated, you felt the massive body beneath you begin to relax.
You, however, were not finished. You rose from the cock and began to admire the rest of Diavolo's newly massive body. You ran each hand over his powerful new muscles, tracing every curve and line and taking the time to appreciate every individual muscle. Diavolo's body shuddered again as you reached his chest and rubbed each of nipples. A small moan escaped his lips. Eventually he seemed satisfied with your worship, and cupped you in a massive hand. Next thing you knew, you were sitting on his palm in front of his movie screen sized face, his golden eyes looking at you with adoration.
"Are you ok, my little love? I hope this all didn't come as too much of a shock to you."
You simply smiled, and brought your lips to his. The two of you exchanged the closest thing to a kiss you could, Diavolo's lips nearly engulfing your entire head. You pulled back and smiled at one another.
"I would like to apologize for ruining our sleep over, my love. And for...my unseemly behavior. Please do not think worse of me for it, and please know that even now I will never do anything to hurt you."
You knew. You'd known for nearly a year now that Diavolo would never harm you. If nothing else, tonight had simply shown you how much he truly cared for you. Life moving forward would be different for you both, but you never were one for doing things the normal way. You settled down in Diavolo's warm palm as something deep within your body began to shudder...
#obey me#diavolo#diavolo smut#male muscle growth#male shapeshift#male tf#mg#muscle tf#macrophilia#sizetumblr
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The Secret
◐ PART IV of THE ALPHA ◐
◐ Part I ◐ Part II ◐ Part III ◐ Series Masterlist ◐
Pairing: Alpha Werewolf Jimin x Omega Reader
Rating: Mature (for this installment)
Warnings: ABO sexual dynamics including discussion of scenting, marking, mating, and claiming. Violence and discussion of violence relating to ritual combat. Jin’s pheromones need their own warning. Yoonji and Yunli are not the same person.
Word Count: 3600
Author’s Note: This update literally made me sob because I edited it and formatted it and it just disappeared when I posted. I seriously felt my heart drop because it took so long to format... ANYWAYS I wonder if anyone guessed the secret.
”You can’t do this, Luna ... Come back inside.”
Your hand tightened on the doorknob.
“I was just going out for some air-”
Jin shook his head, letting his lanky frame collapse onto the overstuffed chair by the fireplace.
“And after the air... then what?”
Your terse silence was confirmation enough.
He sighed heavily, hating himself a little for what he had to do.
“You cannot go to him. They’ll smell you on his skin and it could cost him... dearly.”
Your eyes fluttered shut.
“I just wanted to see him...,” you whispered. “I wanted to talk to him just once before-”
A sob bubbled up in your throat and your hand flew up to cover it.
The dawn would come in two hours.
And then Park Jimin would be gone.
Jin’s arms wrapped around your shoulders and you fell against him hopelessly.
“They’re going to make me watch, Jin-ah. I-I have to watch him-”
Bitter tears overtook you, wracking your body with the violence of your despair.
“I know...,” he murmured softly into your hair, “I know.”
“Do you think he’ll really show up?”
The chief elder glared fiercely at the young man who dared voice such a question.
The entire pack had jammed themselves into the clearing where the challenge was taking place and despite the solemnity of the occasion, the atmosphere buzzed with barely contained speculation.
“Park Jimin was chosen by the goddess herself to be her champion or to be the divine test of her champion. Have some respect,” he hissed.
The young pup had the decency to look abashed, but the chief elder was already ignoring him in favor of the newest arrival...
A Luna wore only three ceremonial colors at any given time.
Green for celebration and harvest was worn in times of laughter and gaiety.
Blue for mourning and peaceful resolve was worn in times of trial and hardship.
Red for passion and vengeance was worn in times of war and signified the sacred bonds that wove the pack together.
Your mother laid out a blue cloak as it was the color chosen by every Luna who had ever faced down a provocatione ritual.
But you arrived in sumptuous Red.
It was a stunning act of defiance, a wordless declaration of your fury. You were here to obey the goddess, but in a crimson cloak you would not embrace this challenge with peaceful resolve.
An attack upon your mate, even under these circumstances, was an attack upon you.
You had come dressed for war.
Jimin heard the gasps echo around his meditation cell.
He and Namjoon arrived at the sacred circle a full hour before dawn and sequestered themselves in the small, free-standing hovels on opposing sides of the the site.
The tiny pods were spaces for an individual to commune with the goddess and center themselves before engaging in the typically life-altering events that brought them there.
Sometimes it was marriage or celebration, sometimes it was acceptance to one of the guilds or a promotion to a higher rank within your family’s clan...
Today it was life and death and the future of the pack that weighed upon the combatants’ shoulders.
The sudden swell of movement and sound pulled Jimin from his meditative state.
What happened?
He got his answer soon after an elder came to escort him into the circle.
It was you.
Your hands and feet were bound to the ornately carved chair they had seated you in. This was a typical precaution because it was natural for a wolf to defend their mate if they were in danger and the restraints kept the Luna from doing so.
The pain in your gaze was agonizing, but in red, flowing down from your shoulders with fiery obstinance, you were every inch the warrior queen.
Yet it was not your rebellious cloak or even your incredible beauty that caused his heart to pound and stutter in glorious shock...
It was the familiar praesidium bracelet wrapped around your wrist; an intimate message of devotion that he and he alone would understand.
Pride and possessiveness roared to life in Jimin’s chest.
She’s mine.
“You look... surprisingly calm.”
Taehyung jerked guiltily.
“What? Me? I don’t know anything - I mean I’m not calm - I’m frantic. I - I don’t even understand the question.”
Yoongi’s eyebrows raised right up into his hairline.
“Taehyung-ah? Did you put those special mushrooms in your broth this morning? You’re acting a bit strange-”
“No,” Taehyung’s voice cracked. “This is me - this is totally normal me. I’m not - there were no mushrooms-” He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “So - uh - how’s Yoonji?”
“Oh my go- really?!”
The chief elder began to recite his speech, reminding the pack of the profound significance this moment carried...
But Yunli could barely hear his words over the ringing in her ears. Her gaze fixed on Namjoon from the moment the elder brought him forward... yet he had not glanced toward her once.
He looked so strong and confident.
So capable of victory.
A faint whimper of abject sorrow worked its way passed her lips and Namjoon’s eyes flew to her instantly.
As if he had always known exactly where she was.
Longing split his features for a fraction of a second.
Then his gaze shuttered again and Yunli’s wolf howled in silent, mournful agony.
Anticipation bore down upon the assembly as the chief elder uttered the last few sentences with reluctant finality.
The moment had come.
Both alphas stepped into the circle.
You began to tug frantically - futilely - against the bonds. Jin’s hand gripped yours as a tear slipped heedlessly down his cheek.
“I’m sorry,” Namjoon whispered - to you - to Yunli - to Jimin -
To himself.
Then his claws lengthened to a deadly point and he tore forward with a chilling snarl.
Jimin remained unnaturally still, watching his rival barrel towards him with almost calculated intent.
Namjoon’s arm drew back to land the first strike and-
———◐———
Last Night...
———◐———
“Wait - WHAT?!”
“It was... me. I broke the table.”
Taehyung drew back slowly. His eyebrows furrowed in profound confusion.
“With what? A jackhammer!?”
Jimin tilted his head in amusement.
“Hammerfist strike... actually.” He shrugged. “I lost my temper.”
“You - You lost your-“ Tae began shaking his head rapidly. “Is it a spell of some sort?! Goddess you know better than to get tangled up with witches! You let them give you a band aid and then they show up ten years later asking for your firstborn!”
Jimin rolled his eyes.
“Of course not! No... it’s...” he bit his lip. “You remember that time I came to your house a little too early and... Yoonji had you tied to a bed...”
Tae paled.
“We agreed never to speak of that.”
“And I haven’t - spoken of it - especially since Yoongi still thinks his precious baby cousin is unaware of big bad boy wolves and if he found out you were corrupting her-”
“Wait. You think I was corrupting her?!“
“The point is... it’s a secret. And I know you have your reasons for keeping it that way so... I hope you’ll understand what I’m about to tell you...”
———◐———
Fourteen Years Ago...
———◐———
Jimin’s hands fidgeted nervously over the flyer that the human boy offered him.
“But I’m only in Seoul for the summer.”
Just long enough to miss Alpha Camp entirely.
“That’s perfect because it’s only a summer program. Seriously, you were so fast catching that jar I knocked over. Your reflexes are amazing and it looks like you’ve got the perfect build for it too.” He tapped the flyer for emphasis. “Think about it.”
No one had ever told Park Jimin that he would be good at anything like this. In fact most people told him he needed to be better...
Bigger.
Stronger.
His eyes traveled over the large letters printed at the top of the brochure.
“Taekwondo...”
——◐——
“...so thank you all again for signing up and attending the orientation. I will see you tomorrow for our first class.”
A strange sense of anticipation hummed through Jimin as he gathered his coat. He was finally doing something for himself; something that had nothing to do with being an alpha-
“You’re a wolf, aren’t you...”
The young instructor who gave the initial demonstration and spoke for most of the orientation stood behind him with his arms crossed.
Jimin’s eyes widened in shock.
“How did you know?”
The stranger tapped his nose.
“My grandfather had a human mate and his pack exiled him for it. I’m mostly human, but this nose can pick up another wolf’s scent just as well as yours.”
Modern packs didn’t exile wolves with human mates anymore, but fifty years ago the practice was still unfortunately common.
“I’m sorry about your grandfather.”
The young man smiled.
“He lived a long happy life with his mate and his family. There’s nothing to be sorry for.” He stretched out his hand. “Lee Taemin.”
“Park Jimin.”
They shook firmly, and Taemin continued to examine him with unconcealed interest.
“Tell me, Park Jimin, what’s an alpha wolf doing all the way out in Seoul? The only pack around here married their last child into one of the mountain nations years ago.”
“That was my mother, actually... I’m here visiting my grandmother.”
Taemin tilted his head curiously.
“I’ve never known wolves to be interested in human martial arts. You lot prefer to fight shifted... In fact, I doubt a mountain wolf could even throw a punch,” he snorted, “not that they’d need to with those fangs.”
Jimin’s shoulders fell a little.
“So... you don’t think I’ll be good at it.”
“On the contrary, I think you could be incredible.”
The young wolf’s face brightened immediately.
“Really?! Even if I’m not as strong as other wolves?”
“Taekwondo isn’t about strength. It’s about speed. Master the speed and the strength will follow.”
———◐———
“Relax your body. Focus your energy.”
Jimin drew in a deep breath as he moved through the pattern Taemin taught him.
“The power and speed of your wolf is constant, but most wolves do not bother channeling it in human form. Concentrate on your wolf and bring that power into your strike.”
His hand came down on the thin press wood and-
It hurt. A lot.
Taemin chuckled as Jimin cussed and swore, cradling his tender fist grouchily.
“You’ll get it. Just keep practicing.”
“Are you sure I’ll be able to break the boards one day?”
The boy’s face was so round and adorably hopeful. Taemin nodded confidently and offered him some ice.
“A human with training can break boards, but a wolf who harnessed his natural speed and strength could break much more than that.”
———◐———
Twelve Years Ago...
———◐———
“You’ve improved a great deal since last summer. Were you finally able to find a teacher near your pack?”
“Yes - but... she’s not as good as you.”
Finding a local Taekwondo teacher had been the easy part.
Constantly making up excuses to explain his habitual disappearances...
That was trickier.
His mother thought he was hunting with Taehyung, Taehyung thought he was sniffing around some human girl and needed a buddy to cover his tracks.
Sneaking away to practice wasn’t too difficult, but he panicked when Yoongi caught him moving through forms in the woods once and pretended to be doing an interpretive dance.
With no music.
Yoongi had looked at him a little funny since then.
Taemin grinned. “Of course she’s not as good as me. I’m the best. Now take position and let’s see if you can finally land this kick.”
———◐———
Ten Years Ago...
———◐———
Jimin glared at the thick oak board Taemin sent him home with this year.
“It’s a 4x6 solid oak plank. I want you to break it before the winter solstice.”
He snorted, positioning the board between the makeshift vices he fashioned to hold it in place.
“Sure, I’ll just get right on that.”
“...Who are you talking to?”
Jimin groaned internally.
Of course.
“Hey guys,” he turned to greet Jungkook and Hoseok brightly (while completely ignoring the question). “Where - where are you two headed today?”
Jungkook’s eyes sparkled with excitement.
“One of the elders is going to teach us how to build traps! He invited all the unmated alphas to go with him past the boundary lines to test whatever we make!”
A familiar embarrassment settled heavily in Jimin stomach.
“Oh... I uh... I didn’t hear that.”
“I’m sure it was just a mistake that they didn’t call for you,” Hoseok rushed to reassure him. “You could come with us. I don’t think the elder would mind.”
The older boy’s gaze was filled with discomfort... and pity.
Jimin cleared his throat and forced up a sunny smile.
“No that’s fine - I have work to do anyways so...”
Jungkook nodded quickly, desperate to escape the unexpectedly awkward conversation.
“Have fun!” he shouted, already beginning to jog away.
Jimin watched quietly as their figures grew smaller, waiting till their clumsy steps no longer disturbed the stillness around him.
He should be used to it by now...
The passive rejection.
It shouldn’t bother him anymore. There was no malicious intent... just casual dismissal again and again and again-
An angry roar tore past his lips as he brought his hand down on the board.
It cracked in half.
———◐———
Eight Years Ago...
———◐———
“It’s strange but - I feel like the better I become at this, the stronger my wolf is.”
“That isn’t strange at all. You and your wolf are two halves of a whole. The more you balance your energy, the more your strengths can be shared. Now - stop stalling and get to it.”
Jimin eyed Taemin’s latest idea with a reluctant groan.
“None of the other students have to break cinder block.”
“None of the other students are wolves. Besides, it’s been 6 years, you’ve broken stacks of boards. It’s time for a real challenge.”
“I’m lucky I haven’t broken a bone,” Jimin mumbled irritably.
He did that day, but it was healed in a week and he broke his first cinderblock a month later.
———◐———
Five Years Ago...
———◐———
“Remember, timing is everything. Never let your opponent see what you’re going to do.”
“How many times do you think I’ve heard that over the last ten years?”
“Not enough, clearly. You’re still telegraphing with that right foot.”
Jimin’s left hand shot out and connected with Taemin’s jaw.
“Am I?”
Taemin blinked up at him from the floor.
“Ok. I admit. That was pretty impressive.”
———◐———
Three Years Ago...
———◐———
“Oh! I’m so sorry, I was looking for Jin.”
Jimin scrambled to his feet, dumping the pile of pebbles he collected (for his mother’s garden) noisily to the ground.
“Luna...”
He took a discreet step backward as your gaze scanned the area in frustration.
“You haven’t seen my cousin, have you?”
Jimin gulped.
He had seen Kim Seokjin - leading a curvy beta girl (nose first no doubt) in the direction of the old wading pool. It took every bit of self-restraint he possessed not to laugh out loud each time Jin bashfully declared that he was a ‘good boy’ and to ‘be gentle with him,’ - after all, he’d given the same speech to two other she-wolves last week.
Best not to scar her for life. Some things cannot be unseen.
His mind darted briefly to the scene he’d walked into at Taehyung’s house yesterday.
“I have no idea where Seokjin is, Luna.”
You sighed, gnawing absently at your lip while you considered his words, and Jimin felt a familiar hint of futile longing whisper through him.
He’d never been so close to you, and now that he was, his wolf was making all sorts of insane suggestions to keep you near.
Do a backflip. Climb a tree. Build her a house.
Jimin bent quickly to gather his scattered stones, ashamed at the direction of his thoughts.
You were so incredibly beautiful...
It was almost enough to make him forget that he would only ever be Park Jimin.
He couldn’t blame the others for fighting and fawning over your attention like they did. You were the moon and every man around you was drawn in like the tide.
“Today is my seventeenth birthday, you know.”
Jimin looked up to discover that you had moved much closer and were now looking down at him expectantly.
He blinked. Twice.
“I - yes. I did know.”
The entire pack was celebrating. He’d have to be comatose not to know.
“Should I save you a dance, Park Jimin?”
Up until that exact second, Jimin would have bet his life savings that you did not know his name.
Yet here you were - so very close to him - gazing down into his eyes almost shyly.
He nodded because he couldn’t think of a single reason not to give you anything you wanted. And when you smiled so brilliantly - he almost believed that you truly wanted to dance with him...
Almost.
He never went to your party.
He never danced with you.
Not that day. Not ever.
Because deep down he suspected that if he held you in his arms - even once - he would never truly let go.
He was sure you wouldn’t notice his absence... You wouldn’t remember talking to him by the time the evening rolled around.
He never saw you search the crowds for his face right up until the midnight bell.
He never saw you turn down dance after dance hoping that the beautiful boy from the forest would finally come and take your hand.
He was your only wish that birthday.
But he never knew.
———◐———
One Year Ago...
———◐———
“I’ve never seen anything like your skill. You’ve long since surpassed me. I’m not sure what more I can teach you,” Taemin smiled, bumping Jimin on the shoulder, “Perhaps you should find a woman and spend a little less time practicing.”
An unwelcome flash of silver eyes and a laugh like sunshine danced through his mind.
“No. I’m... not really the type wolf girls go for.”
Taemin snorted.
“I don’t believe that. Aren’t you an alpha?”
“Yes, but it’s... complicated.”
“Isn’t everything?”
Jimin laughed.
“Yes, I suppose it is.”
Silence settled comfortably between them as they nursed several bottles of soju on his grandmother’s porch. Taemin had charmed the old hellion quite thoroughly and he would often drop by for a visit even when Jimin was back home with his pack.
“So what will you do now?” he asked. “You can’t compete. I can barely withstand sparring with you, and you’d kill a human - even if you landed a blow at half strength.”
Jimin ran his fingers absently through his hair while he pondered his mentor’s words.
“I learned to fight because I was searching for something that would help me sort out who I was.” He scoffed. “I don’t know that I’m any closer to that goal.”
Taemin shook his head.
“No. I think you’ve got it all wrong, Park Jimin. No one achieves what you have without knowing who they are. You’ve always been a fighter and some part of you realizes that.” He sighed heavily and finished off the rest of his drink. “Now I think you’re just... waiting.”
“For what?” Jimin chuckled playfully.
Taemin pulled out another bottle and met his gaze with a knowing grin.
“Something worth fighting for.”
———◐———
Now...
———◐———
Jimin remained unnaturally still, watching his rival barrel towards him with almost calculated intent.
Namjoon’s arm drew back to land the first strike and-
It was fast.
So fast it almost seemed like magic.
One moment the Kim alpha was the barest breath away from a swift and decisive victory-
Then he was crashing backwards onto the dirt.
Those who watched carefully saw Park Jimin spin into a vicious kick, one that connected solidly with the middle of his opponent’s chest.
Stunned silence pressed in from every side as Namjoon scrambled back to his feet, his expression wavering wildly between excruciating pain and monumental shock.
Jimin smiled, letting his razor sharp canines lengthen menacingly as he flowed back into a perfect combat stance.
“You didn’t think I’d just let you have her, did you?”
Please comment if you would like to be added to the taglist! If you have already asked, you will be tagged automatically in every update.
Please please please let me know what you thought of this chapter! (*insert puppy face here*) I am so excited to hear what you think of everything that went down in this update and I savor each word of feedback like fine wine. Your theories and commentary have been such a gift. It truly keeps me writing.
#park jimin#jimin#bts#jimin smut#bts jimin#bts park jimin#park jimin smut#ficswithluv#magicshopnet#bangtanarmynet#kwritersworldnet#networkbangtan#armysource#btscreatorscorner#bangtanidx#bangtanhq#jimin werewolf#abo jimin#jimin imagine#jimin scenario#jimin x reader
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ok so this might come off as a bit rambly so please bear with me lol
i've noticed that the acotar fandom has this incessant need to be right when it comes to canon and it really sucks out the funness of fandom. shipping is supposed to be fun but when it comes to this fandom, it's almost like a competition to see who will be more right when the books come out. engaging with theories/predictions about characters and the plot is supposed to be exciting but when it comes to this fandom, some of the theories/predictions are problematic at worst and nonsensical at best. like how can you say with your full chest that you're so confident about where the series is heading in the future because of this or that theory when you're stuck in the past and refuse to see what all of the text is telling you in the present. it doesn't make sense. the selective reading is so strong that it has me looking sideways sometimes lol
i guess my question is why do you think the fandom is so divided when it comes to ships right now? i've seen people say this wasn't the case for feysand and nessian, so what's the difference here?
Oh boy Brielle, I have some thoughts on this. It's complex.
To be clear, I am not saying that this applies to literally every single person who ships a certain way. This is a commentary on the fandom as a whole, and there are always exceptions.
This got really, really long, so I'm putting it under the cut.
I think that one of the main draws of this series, and of sjm's writing in general, is her ships. I think that people get very, very attached to their ships.
I also think that sjm does NOT fully think through some of the choices that she makes when writing. See: the way that she takes from all these different cultures and mashes them together, which could be seen as disrespectful of their origin. She has retconned things, like Mor being queer and Lucien being Helion's son. I think that she thoroughly thinks about some of the aspects of her books, like Rhys's reaction to sleeping with Feyre for the first time, but then really half-asses other aspects of her books, like Mor coming out.
Then, we have your good old misogyny and homophobia - people in the fandom don't like Mor because she hurt the poor bat boy's feelings when she didn't sleep with him, and they don't have a mating bond, but she's never really told Azriel "no", and so every single moment of pain that Azriel has felt in 500 years is Morrigan's fault. And Mor's experience as a closeted queer woman who feels unsafe around the people she should trust the most is completely disregarded by the fandom.
Finally, I think that a combination of these factors has created the monster we know as e*riel, and that the fandom is perpetuating its own mythology.
What all of this comes down to, and the real reason I think that the fandom is behaving this way right now, is that e*riel is dead. It's never happened, it's not going to happen, but because we don't have the clear closure we got with moriel (where people would be accused of homophobia for continuing to ship it), people are still trying to figure out any possible way for e*riel to become canon, though every single sign points to it being a non-issue.
This weird thing where people have to be "right" all the time, and the way that "right" = "canon" is a relatively new development. It's as if everyone in this fandom forgot that they are in fact in a fandom, which inherently diverges from canon.
However, I think that the need to cling to canon is because the alternative would be to admit defeat and say "well, even if it doesn't happen I will still ship e*riel, it's fine, I will live with that." But they don't want to do that. In response, they look at canon so hard that they are reading the white space between the letters to create their theories, which as you noted as largely nonsensical and often fail to take into account who the characters are as individuals, how they are connected to other characters, and why it would or wouldn't be appropriate for them to be involved in various plots.
People could say, as eluciens having been saying since day one, "I really ship this thing but I can see that it might not become canon". But they don't say that. They literally refuse to see any other possibility than e*riel becoming canon.
You pointed out that people are stuck in the past - absolutely. The number of reimaginings I have seen of scenes where either Azriel or Elain has literally zero to do with the scene, but people try to shove one or both of them in there. And this from books ago. People are stuck on the Truthteller scene, and refuse to acknowledge that neither of them have acted on their feelings, whatever those might be, for years. And they ignore the fact that once Elain and Az do act, it goes horribly wrong.
Here are the facts as of right now:
ACOSF is the most recent book. In that book, sans extra chapter, those two had no interaction other than looking at one another.
If we include his POV, then he said it was wrong, we got confirmation that nothing has ever happened between them, she returned his necklace. Elain was aroused, but that does not mean she was ready to even have sex. "Yes" to a kiss is not "yes" to every single sexual act Az can think of. They parted on awkward, bad terms after a scene in which it seemed like they were about to start something. Yikes. Unlike Wings and Embers, they did not end that chapter still thinking of one another. After they part ways, the omniscient narrator does not mention Elain, or Az thinking about Elain, again.
His POV occurs months before the end of the book. They do not interact after that.
Elain has a mate she has not rejected, nor accepted.
So anyway, your question was why are people like this. lol. I think the fandom created a monster, and that monster is clinging to life. It can't accept the idea of morphing into a non-canon ship, though it never was canon in the first place. It had just convinced itself that it was.
There are other aspects to this, that have to do with gwynriel and elucien.
Gwynriel is a new ship, it's almost guaranteed to happen, people are super excited to ship it and give Gwyn all their love. I'm sure they would rather create content for that ship than argue about whether or not it's going to be canon, but they are in constant defense mode. Some people honestly didn't like e*riel before because they don't like Elain, or because they don't like Azriel, and those are valid reasons for not liking it. Why people ship gwynriel doesn't matter. The tone of the discussion is, unfortunately, being shaped elsewhere, which I will mention below.
Elucien is an old ship, older than e*riel. I can speak from this perspective - personally, I have been holding my tongue for 4.5 years. I have been letting people live, and just talking about the things I like. Then when acosf came out, it was like I could finally say all the things I had been thinking about Azriel, because I now had proof that the things I thought about his character (and because of that, about e*riel) now had solid canon foundation. This is 4.5 years of me holding in a lot of shit and finally being able to say it. Sometimes yes, I might take joy in having been right.
I think that a few people are clinging to canon, and that sets the tone for the discourse in the fandom. Someone says "according to page whatever, blah blah blah" and people feel the need to respond, and then it turns into and "I'm right" contest instead of... a fandom... A lot of us like debating. To me, it's fun. But when Person A starts a conversation that's about canon and it actually ignores canon, it's hard to let that conversation go by and just keep creating whatever we want to create. Instead, we respond, and so the tone of the conversation is shaped by what Person A decided to say.
I also think that there is a lack of distinction between theories (what will happen in the future) and meta (analysis of what we have now).
There is also a lack of "I" statements. Opinions are being stated as fact.
idk if there is a way to make it better, other than to just go back to ignoring one another. This whole situation makes me want to throw out every single canon ship I like and create exclusively non-canon content, just for spite. Except I really like doing meta, and so I don't want to. I guess for my point, I'll just keep doing meta, keep creating different content, and keep reminding people that they aren't here to continue perpetuating canon, but to play with it.
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Lost Family Pt. 3
Part 1 Part 2
~Trigger warnings: kidnapping, torture, violence, vague mentions of death and taking life. These themes will be present in almost all chapters. Any other triggers for individual chapters will be listed separately. If I have left anything else please let me know and I’ll be sure to add it. Enjoy~
Trigger Warning: Violence, Injury, Blood, Burning.
It’s been 3 months there and things were good still. At least they were fine with everyone except one person. You had the unfortunate pleasure of living in the same building as him. Sitting at the desk in the cortex talking to Cisco to catch up on more pop culture you could feel a hole burning in the side of your head. He was staring at you again and you knew it. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him chewing on his pen and deep in thought. Probably about how to get you out of the group. Rolling your eyes and turning back to Cisco you try ignoring him. Then the alarm went off for a Meta. Barry was in and out of the room quicker than you could process.
His voice coming in over the coms. “Where am I going and what is it guys?”
Cisco jumps on it. “It’s the boardwalk. Looks like it's some sort of electrical meta again.”
“Got it, easy one then” Barry seemed all too happy to take the guy down. Unfortunately, it wasn’t as easy as everyone thought it would be for him. The meta actually got away leaving Barry hurt. You were immediately up and about to go get Barry when he showed up and collapsed on the medical bed in the cortex.
“Barry!” You were next to him quicker than anyone else pulling the front of his suit open to look at the wound on his chest. It was bad and he was writhing in pain. Caitlin was next to him opening drawers and finally pulls out a syringe stabbing his arm with the needle. Seconds later he was out cold. You looked at Caitlin. “What did you do?”
“It's just to put him out of pain but it won't last long. We need to stop the bleeding and quick. This is a large wound so its going to be rough.” she shuffles for equipment.
“Are you going to cauterize it?” You asked shakily. Seeing her nod you looked back to Barry laying in the bed and all you could think is ‘I can’t lose you too’. Your hand hovers over his chest as you feel your hand heating up and glow an almost iridescent and blinding light. Hand making contact with his wound you can hear the hissing of this fusing. After only a second it was done and his bleeding stopped. He shot up like a bullet, screaming in pain. You feel awful but you knew it had to be done. He passed back out from the pain and you laid him back. “Caitlin, can you give him more pain killer?”
Everyone was staring at you. Apparently, Barry and Joe hadn’t informed the others that you had abilities too. Caitlin seemed to shake it off pretty quickly and change her attention back to Barry. She gave him pain killer and started to dress his wounds. You slowly backed away from the bed and to the other room of the cortex. Cisco is still dumbfounded with his jaw hanging down. “Since when did you become a Meta?” You look down and away from everyone.
“I...I’m not. Just born like this I guess.” You suddenly didn’t feel like talking anymore. “Let me know if he's okay and when he wakes up...Please.” You look up for just a second for confirmation and then make a B-line to the balcony on your floor of the lab.
It's been hours with no word exchanged between you and any of the others. The only thing you hear is the ping of a text from Cisco saying ‘Barry is okay and just resting. He’ll heal quick’. You sighed at that before slinking back on the chair on the balcony. Another few hours passing before you hear the door open behind you and see a figure sitting down next to you in another chair.
“You come out here a lot.” A gravely, deep voice reached your ears pulling you from your own thoughts. You glanced over to him and nodded.
“Quite the observation there Dr.Wells.” You said bluntly trying to keep from being too upset. None of this was his fault but you also didn’t need his poor attempts at a conversation.
He sighs and rests his chin in his hand for a second before speaking up again, “I…Sorry, I guess I just meant I wanted to check and see if you were okay. The others didn’t know where you were and Cisco said you never answered him.”
You looked back at your phone realizing there were 16 new messages from Cisco, 2 from Caitlin, and 1 from Joe. You felt even more guilty now and sent them all and ‘I’m fine. Don’t worry just went out for fresh air.’ Looking back to Harry you gave the faintest smile and nodded. “Thanks, I guess I lest time get away from me… It’s… a nice view.”
Harry seemed to hum in agreement. There was a slightly tense silence between the two of you for a few minutes as you watched the sun start to dip under the horizon. Then you felt it. The all too familiar burning hole in the side of your head. For some reason your body is flush with a slight heat. You glanced over to him under your eyelashes. “Did you need something else, Dr.Wells?”
He seemed a bit flustered at being caught staring but kept it under wraps pretty well. “Yeah actually, Everyone else calls me Harry but you only call me Dr. Wells… Why?”
You pondered the question for a few moments before turning back to the horizon. “You are a Doctor and you’ve made it pretty clear you don’t want to be friends. So this is a strictly professional relationship.”
Harry scoffs slightly. “Ridiculous reasoning. I’ve never stated that I don’t want to be friends.”
Whipping your head back to him you go to open your mouth to question him and provide all the examples of his sarcastic comments to you and him always insinuating you are an idiot, but all you can say is “Come again?”
“Look I just don’t treat you differently from the others when I first met them if anything I’m nicer to you than I was to them in the beginning.” He stands to start walking to the door again. “And here I thought there was something the other Dr. Wells did to you to make you hate me. Turns out it’s just me, goodnight Ms.Allen”. He started walking to his own room.
You couldn’t help but stare as he walked away with whiplash from the conversation. Maybe he didn’t hate you. Maybe he just needed to warm up to you. And that's when you started to hatch your plan. Kill them with kindness right? You smiled to yourself and headed back in for the night. This should be interesting.
Part 4
#cw the flash#the cw flash#the flash#flash imagine#barry allen imagine#barry allen#iris west allen#joe west#wally west#cisco ramon#caitlin snow#vibe#killer frost#harry wells x reader#harry wells imagine#harrison wells x reader#harrison wells imagine#harrison wells#harry wells#fanfiction#female reader#reader insert#multichapter#long read#long story
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Breadsticks & a Boyfriend (kth/jjk)
AO3 Link Here!
Relationships: Jungkook x Taehyung
Genre: smut, pwp
Final Rating: Explicit
Word Count (Chapter): ~3.4k
Tags (more added as needed): smut, PWP, strangers to lovers, rough sex, dirty talk, sex toys, face fucking, coming untouched, shy Jungkook
Summary: When Taehyung took a simple order of pizza, breadsticks, and a soda to a customer on a rainy day, he had no idea how good his tip would be.
A/N: This fic was written for the @bangtanwritingbingo Summer Bingo square Jungkook x Taehyung and also for @venusiangguk who requested TaeKook with prompt #11: “Is it an oral fixation or do you just not want to talk to me?”
The life of a pizza delivery boy was far more interesting than one would think. Though it was a lower end, minimum wage job, for someone like Taehyung, it was excellent. He was a natural social butterfly. Outgoing, bright, vibrant, always seeking to make new friends. This job allowed him to meet a whole variety of people. Who didn’t like pizza? Upper class, snobby elite individuals, right down to the barely surviving folks who managed to scrape together enough for a small delivery once in a blue moon – Taehyung loved meeting them all.
It was a Friday. It was payday. It was a good day. At least, until the clouds rolled in, darkening the sky and bringing thunder. And unfortunate torrents of rain. But a delivery boy doesn’t get a day off, and orders tended to only increase when the weather was this cruddy.
Taehyung didn’t mind. Not really. He could handle a little rain and he had a sturdy car.
The delivery was simple. A large pepperoni pizza, a small order of breadsticks, and a 2 liter of Coke. Simple. Probably a parent with a young child, a college age student, or a babysitter. Should be quick. Probably not a great tip for any of them, but that was okay; he’d had a big delivery to a house party earlier and had made a massive tip… And gotten a cute boy’s number. Taehyung was handsome, so it happened more than one would assume. The jokes about wanting to sleep with the pizza boy weren’t always jokes. Not that he’d ever go through with any of it. It was simple flirtation, it helped with tips. Taehyung figured he’d have to find someone pretty damn special to actually call them back.
The rain seemed to come down harder as Taehyung drove to the address on his GPS. He reached a cute little house with a nicely kept yard. It was a little bit of a walk from where he was able to park to the porch… The driveway would offer a little more protection and a little shorter distance… Normally he didn’t park in driveways; people tended to sometimes get a little angry – but considering the circumstances…
Taehyung pulled into the driveway, nosing as close as he dared to the garage door. He grabbed the pizza bag and covered it carefully with a plastic sheet before pulling up his hood and getting out. He raced from the driveway to the front door, relaxing only when he was safely on the porch. He knocked once, putting on a broad smile.
The door opened a crack, and then a little further, and then all the way. And Taehyung, for what it was worth, forgot how to breathe.
Standing in the doorway was the most stunning young man he’d ever seen. The man was just a little shorter than he was, with shaggy brown hair that swooped down nearly over his eyes, parted enough to peek his forehead. He wore thick silver hoops in his ears, two in his right and one in his left. His plush mouth and round nose matched his face perfectly, and dark eyes drew Taehyung in almost immediately. The man’s beauty wasn’t lowered or altered in the slightest by the fact that he was wearing a sweater and sweats, his feet bare. He smiled softly, his nose crinkling up.
Taehyung beamed. “Hey. Pizza. You’re…” He glanced at the nametag on the receipt. “Jeon Jungkook?”
Jungkook nodded. He glanced over Taehyung shoulder, his small smile drooping. “Come inside,” he said softly, stepping aside.
“Oh, thank you.” Taehyung stepped inside just enough for Jungkook to close the door, and crouched to take out the food. He handed it over to Jungkook quickly. “Pouring out there,” he commented.
“Flooding,” Jungkook agreed.
Taehyung scowled at that. He turned, glancing out the window. As Jungkook had commented, the streets were nearly filled with water, pouring in rivets in certain areas. Taehyung’s body went cold. “Oh God, it got worse.”
“Doesn’t look safe to drive in,” Jungkook muttered.
Taehyung sighed heavily. He turned back and smiled as best he could. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
He turned to grab the doorknob, but Jungkook rushed forward, grabbing his wrist.
“It’s a flash flood. News said it was dangerous. You should stay until it’s lightened up.” His voice was soft and timid, barely above a whisper. Either he was terrified, or truly the shiest man in the city. But he seemed genuine in his concern, and Taehyung felt a strange peace come over him at that.
“I’ll call my boss.” Taehyung turned and pulled out his phone, dialing his boss’ number.
“Kim Taehyung! Are you safe? It got so bad out there, I was worried sick.”
“I’m fine. I’m at the last customer’s house.”
“I shouldn’t have sent you out in this mess. Can you make it back?”
“The roads are pretty flooded. I was calling to ask if I could stay out. Until they clear up. I’ll work extra hours tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry about it. Stay safe. Do you know the customer?”
“No, but he’s letting me stay until it clears up. I’ll let you know when I make it home.”
“Thank you, keep me updated.”
Taehyung hung up and smiled. “She’s okay with me not going back. Uh… Thanks for letting me hide out here until the weather lightens.”
Jungkook nodded. He looked down at the food in his hands and turned, setting it on his table. He turned back, chewing his bottom lip.
Taehyung blinked, unsure what to do. He watched Jungkook disappear through a doorway and then return, holding out a paper plate toward Taehyung.
“Are you offering me lunch?” Taehyung asked. Jungkook nodded, pulling open the pizza box.
“Thanks.” Taehyung kicked his shoes off and hung his hoodie before he stepped up, taking a slice of the pizza. “I’m Kim Taehyung.” He stuck out his hand. Jungkook smiled shyly and shook it. He opened his mouth to answer and then closed it, grabbing a breadstick and sticking it into his mouth instead.
Taehyung laughed a little.
He sat at the table, watching Jungkook eat.
“Do you live alone?” He asked. Jungkook swallowed the bite he had in his mouth and nodded, quickly adding more food to his mouth.
Their lunch continued in that manner – Jungkook would answer yes or no answers, always adding food to his mouth, a drink, or biting on something to keep his mouth too full to give Taehyung much of an answer at all. Despite the one-sided conversation, Taehyung was thoroughly intrigued by Jungkook. He wanted to know everything about him. Namely, why he refused to speak.
Despite his quiet nature, Taehyung could feel Jungkook looking at him whenever he looked away. A few times their gazes met, and Jungkook’s was intense enough that Taehyung found himself a bit flustered. For someone who refused to speak, he was certainly showing plenty of interest.
After lunch, Jungkook wandered over to the couch. He looked at Taehyung and patted the seat next to him. Taehyung smirked. He settled next to Jungkook, turning his attention to the television when Jungkook turned it on, flipping through the channels. He picked up the string on his sweatshirt as he did, sticking it into his mouth and chewing gently on it.
Taehyung chuckled a little. He relaxed back against the couch, glancing over at Jungkook every little bit. Even relaxed like this – the boy was stunning. His profile was nearly perfect. He could easily be a singer or a celebrity.
“What do you do for a living, Jungkook?” Taehyung finally asked.
Jungkook looked over, his eyes wide. He dropped the string from his mouth. “I— I’m computer. I program. Computers.” He stuttered.
“Wow, that’s cool,” Taehyung grinned. “You must be super smart, that’s such a cool job.”
Jungkook smiled shyly. He stuck the string back in his mouth, gnawing on it.
“I’m finishing up college myself,” Taehyung continued, looking back at the television. “For photography and media design. I absolutely love art in all forms.”
He glanced at Jungkook from the corner of his eye, catching the other eyeing him up and down. A slow smirk crossed his lips.
“You know, Jungkook… I’ve gotta ask.” He looked back at him and reached out, tugging the sweatshirt string from his mouth. “Is it an oral fixation, or do you just not want to talk to me?”
Jungkook’s eyes widened. He covered his mouth and tilted his head a little.
“No, I—I don’t not want to talk to you. I mean, I—” He squeaked a little, covering his ears.
Taehyung’s grin grew. “Are you really so shy?”
Jungkook lowered his gaze and nodded.
“Well you don’t have to be.”
Instead of responding, Jungkook slipped his finger into his mouth, chewing the skin around the side of his fingernail.
Taehyung reached out, pushing his hand down. He shifted over a little, staring until Jungkook looked at him.
“You’ve been checking me out all afternoon.”
“You noticed?” Jungkook squeaked. His cheeks began to redden in little blotches, chest rising a little faster. “I’m sorry.”
“Why?”
“It’s creepy,” Jungkook muttered.
“I don’t think so. In fact, I’m pretty flattered.” Taehyung reached out, hesitating a moment before touching Jungkook’s cheek with his hand. “Not often a stunning young man looks at me like that.”
“I didn’t mean to…” Jungkook whispered. He looked away, but didn’t pull his face away from Taehyung’s grip.
“I’ve been looking at you too, Jungkook.” Taehyung paused, letting Jungkook look at him once more. When he did, Taehyung continued. “We’re both adults. If you do have an oral fixation… Well…” Taehyung wet his lips, leaving the question unasked.
Jungkook’s eyes dropped down to his crotch, and Taehyung smirked.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Is that what you were thinking about?”
Jungkook didn’t answer. He bit on his lips, sucking them in until they formed a fine line. Taehyung pushed a little further, stroking his thumb over Jungkook’s mouth.
“It’s okay if it was. You just need to tell me. So that I know how to respond.”
Jungkook’s eyes widened just enough to be noticeable. He released the grip on his lips, then bit his bottom lip once more, drumming his fingers on his thigh. “What if I was?” He kept the same soft voice, but there was something else. A rough, needy tone that sent the blood straight to Taehyung’s cock.
“I guess I’d have no choice but to oblige your curiosity. I can’t deny a cute boy his wants, now can I?” Taehyung rose. He put his hands on his jeans, hesitating. “Is this what you were thinking about, Jungkook?”
Jungkook nodded, his eyes glued to Taehyung’s crotch.
Taehyung undid his jeans. He could not honestly believe he was doing this. He pushed his jeans and boxers down, letting them pool around his ankles. His cock was already standing at attention, mostly hard at the prospect of having Jungkook in any way.
Despite his shyness, Jungkook responded immediately. He sank to his knees and stroked Taehyung’s cock twice before opening his mouth. Taehyung pushed his hips forward slowly, letting his smooth tip slide over Jungkook’s tongue.
“Holy shit... Suck on it.”
Jungkook’s lips closed immediately and he began to suck, bobbing his head easily along the shaft. Taehyung’s toes curled. He buried his fingers in Jungkook’s soft curls, letting his head fall back. His cock hardened the rest of the way within seconds. Taehyung snapped his hips forward until the tip of his cock bumped the back of Jungkook’s throat. He looked down.
Jungkook gagged once, screwing his eyes shut. Instead of pulling back, he shifted, swallowing the spit pooling around Taehyung’s cock. He moved back a little and pushed forward. Taehyung felt his tip bump his throat again, and the convulsion of his throat, and then it relaxed.
Taehyung shouted when his tip slipped into Jungkook’s warm, tight throat. He began to pump his hips gently, not wanting to hurt Jungkook, but wanting to savor that tight, unique feeling. He pulled his cock free, marveling at how slick with spit it was, shining in the lamplight. Jungkook let his mouth hang open, drool spilling out over his chin and onto his lap. His cock was tenting the front of his sweats obscenely.
“You getting off swallowing my dick, pretty one?” Taehyung teased, slapping Jungkook’s cheek with his cock.
Jungkook nodded. He leaned back, pulling his sweats down around his knees. His cock wasn’t huge, but it certainly was hard, dripping precome the moment it was exposed.
“Can you come from this, sweetie?” Taehyung cooed. He rubbed his cock over Jungkook’s lips.
“Almost,” Jungkook whispered. “As long as I can finger my ass.”
“Do you have toys?”
Jungkook nodded.
“Go put one in for me. One that will help you come. I want you to squirt without touching yourself.”
“Yes, Sir.” Jungkook rose. He tugged off his sweats and rushed off. Taehyung stroked his cock lazily, Jungkook’s spit slicking the way.
Jungkook returned with a thick, curved dildo in one hand.
“Wanna stick it up my ass?”
“I’d love to.”
Jungkook crawled onto the couch. He let his head hang over the edge, and slung his back and hips up the back of it, folding himself up so his knees nearly touched his chest. The angle exposed, and spread, his ass beautifully. Taehyung spit against his hole, smirking when it fluttered and Jungkook giggled.
“I was fingering myself before you came,” he explained. “Just stick it in.”
Taehyung did as he requested, sliding the silicone cock past his tight rim. Jungkook moaned contentedly, his dick dribbling precome onto his upper chest.
“Jungkook...” Taehyung said, nestling the toy neatly between Jungkook’s ass cheeks. “Can you come on your own face in this position?”
Jungkook nodded.
“Let me know when you’re close... I wanna see that.”
Taehyung shifted, rubbing his cock over Jungkook’s lips once more before sliding into his warm mouth. The new angle let Taehyung watch his cock slowly slipping in, each bob of Jungkook’s Adam’s apple as he swallowed, easing the way for the sensitive tip to finally slip into his throat. Despite having been there earlier - the feeling still caught Taehyung off guard. He lightly rested his hand on Jungkook’s throat as he began to pump his hips. Much to his surprise, right at the start of his throat, Taehyung could feel a little bulge on each inward stroke. He rubbed it gently, gasping at the sudden pressure.
“Oh god, I’m really in your throat—“ he panted. He pulled back and Jungkook gasped in a breath. He grinned, his eyes shut.
“Where’d you think I was putting it?” He teased.
Taehyung slapped his bare ass, working the dildo deeper, and Jungkook moaned.
Taehyung slid his cock back into his mouth, gripping the base of the dildo. One hand rested over Jungkook’s throat, rubbing lightly each time he pumped his cock. The other he used to tug the dildo, not enough to pull it free from the clench of Jungkook’s rim, but just enough to tease.
Jungkook moaned around Taehyung’s cock, the wet gulping noises adding to the obscenity - and sexiness - of the situation.
Jungkook’s cock was leaking precome freely, dribbling clear streaks over his heaving, sweat slicked chest. He began to tap Taehyung’s thigh and pointed at his cock.
Taehyung pulled out, and Jungkook moaned loudly. He reached down, holding his ass open further, and pushing his hips up more. His cock twitched and throbbed visibly. Taehyung began to work the dildo quicker, angling it against where his prostate should be. Jungkook’s eyes rolled back.
“Stick it down my throat,” he begged. His voice was rasping and dry. He opened his mouth wide, sticking his tongue out.
Taehyung obeyed, sliding his cock in. Jungkook’s nose nuzzled against his tight, full balls, and he gagged, his cock twitching. Taehyung struggled to hold still as Jungkook began to swallow and moan around him. The squeeze was bordering on uncomfortable, but Taehyung barely noticed. Jungkook was moaning against him, the vibrations tingling up his cock and all the way to his toes. He almost missed the desperate tapping on his thigh for a second time.
He pulled out, and Jungkook jerked hard. He burped, his cheeks pinking up even more, and his cock began to spurt. The first rope landed on his chin, milky and thick. Jungkook tilted his head just enough and the next two spurted into his open mouth. Taehyung went forward, sliding his cock in. The final hot rope streaked over his shaft, making him shudder. He pushed his cock deep into Jungkook’s mouth, feeling the silky slide of Jungkook’s come as it coated his cock.
He began to pump his hips, chasing his orgasm. “Gonna come in your throat,“ Taehyung gasped, holding Jungkook’s head. Jungkook gave a thumbs up, moaning around his cock.
Two more pumps and Taehyung went still, grunting softly. His cock spilled into Jungkook’s throat, milked by the steady swallows, and urged on by Jungkook’s hands on his ass, holding him deep. The orgasm curled his toes, every nerve alight with pleasure. Each pump he knew he was spilling into the delicate, exposed throat of his pretty new friend. Jungkook’s breath was hot against his balls as he struggled to draw in air and not choke on the come. His own softening cock twitched weakly and dribbled onto his chest.
Taehyung pulled out only when he began to soften, and Jungkook shot up, coughing and gagging. Taehyung sat next to him, rubbing and patting his back. He reached up, wiping away some of the stray come and spit streaking Jungkook’s face.
“You okay?” Taehyung worried. Jungkook nodded, clearing his throat. He smiled sheepishly.
“I’m okay,” he whispered, his voice raspy. Taehyung rose and grabbed the cup of soda from the table, bringing it over to Jungkook. Jungkook rose just enough to pull his sweats up before slumping back onto the couch and taking the cup from Taehyung.
Taehyung fixed his jeans, glancing around.
“So that was… Something…”
“Were you pleased?” Jungkook asked softly, staring into the cup.
“Was I—Of course I was pleased, you were great. I’ve never had someone… So happy to do that. Do you really like it when people…”
Jungkook nodded again. “I don’t get the opportunity often. I’m too shy to really make friends, let alone proposition someone.”
Taehyung sat back down next to Jungkook. “Look, we just met… And I didn’t, obviously… Plan for any of this. So, you would be well within your rights to tell me to fuck off…”
Jungkook looked over, tilting his head a little curiously.
Taehyung smiled. “God you’re cute,” he sighed.
Jungkook giggled a little at that, lowering his gaze. “I already sucked your dick,” he said softly. “You don’t need to butter me up.”
“What if I’m buttering you up for something else?” Taehyung asked. Jungkook looked back up.
“Like what?”
“A date.”
Jungkook raised his eyebrows, making them disappear into his shaggy bangs. “A date? W… With you?”
“Yeah, with me. I like you. I want to get to know you better. What do you think?”
“I—” Jungkook seemed to freeze, pinching his lips together in a fine line.
“You don’t have to say yes,” Taehyung worried.
“No, I – I want to. I just… Why?”
“Because I like you.” Taehyung shrugged. “You want to?”
Jungkook nodded.
“Great. Uh… Well, I mean… Obviously I’m already over but… Maybe this weekend?”
“I’d like that.”
Taehyung grinned. He pulled out his phone and handed it over to Jungkook. “Your number, if you’re okay with that?”
“Yeah, of course.” Jungkook took it and typed it in. As he did, Taehyung rose, peeking out of the blinds.
“Looks like the flooding has gone down enough. I should probably get back to my work.”
Jungkook nodded. He rose, fixing his own pants. He handed Taehyung’s phone back.
“Text me so I can get your number… Drive safe, okay?”
Taehyung nodded. He pulled on his jacket and toed into his shoes. Jungkook moved up to him, looking shy once more.
“What?” Taehyung teased.
“Can I kiss you?”
“Can’t get enough of that oral fixation, eh?” Taehyung joked. He reached out, brushing his thumb over Jungkook’s bottom lip. “Of course you can.”
He pulled Jungkook into a gentle kiss, holding him close. It was funny, he realized, as they separated and he hurried out the door to his car. A simple twist of fate – a forced meeting – a simple call for a pizza on a rainy day – could change an entire life.
#thebtswritersclub#bangtanarmynet#networkbangtan#bangtansummerbingo#taekook#smut#jungkook fic#jungkook smut#taehyung smut#taehyung fic#taehyung x jungkook#jungkook x taehyung#jeongguk x taehyung#jungkook x v#kim taehyung#jeon jungkook#mywriting
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Korekiyo, Nagito, and Rantaro x affectionate S/O who can’t handle receiving affection
Korekiyo Shinguji:
· You always showed your affection through acts. You rarely spoke of your affections for the man or even held his hand. However, whatever Kiyo needed or wanted you’d provide. He needed to organize some artifacts; you were right by his side assisting with the task. Perhaps he was so absorbed in his work he forgot the time; you brought a light meal so he could eat as he continued to work. You’d do research on whatever captured his interest in the moment so you could provide information or a perspective he possibly had not known of before. You’d organize his research notes and materials for him so he wouldn’t have to bother with it.
· It was a day like any other, Kiyo realized he had forgotten one of his notebooks, so you raced to his library-like room to fetch it. “Ah, thank you my Love.” You froze in your tracks, almost dropping the book in the process. “I love you.” Strolling up to you he took the book, smiling so brightly able to feel the heat that had risen on your cheeks even at a distance. Breathily laughing, he leaned in, giving you a kiss to the forehead with his mask still on before returning to his desk. He didn’t go back to work just yet though, listening to the high pitched, squeak like noise that had escaped you, sounding like air leaking from a balloon. He didn’t even need to look over his shoulder to know you had a wobbly smile which you tried to hide behind your hands, but he did so anyway. “You’re just too cute.” You curled up into a ball. “I love you so much. I don’t know what I would do without you. You have so irreparably changed my life, it’s astounding. You-” “OKAY THAT’S ENOUGH! MY HEART IS RACING WAY TOO QUICKLY! GIVE ME A BREAK!” “For how long?” “I! DON’T! KNOW!” “… I’ll wait half an hour then.” “DON’T TELL ME! THEN IT’LL BE LIKE TRYING TO SLEEP WHEN YOU CAN SEE THE CLOCK! YOU’LL JUST CHECKING IT AND ANTICIPATING AND NOT GET A BREAK!” “Alright……… I love you.” “THAT WAS NOT A LONG ENOUGH BREAK!” He dreamily sighed seeing just how flustered you were. “I-I- I’M GONNA SEARCH FROM SOME BOOKS!” “But I have all the books I need here.” “I CAN FIND MORE!” Then you dashed away.
· Even if Kiyo could not show you his affections often because of how flustered you’d become he knew you knew of his love without a doubt, and that was enough for him.
Nagito Komaeda:
· Being in a relationship with Nagito was a rather… interesting experience. You were a very affectionate individual, family and friends alike would receive an excess of hugs, kind words, kisses, cuddles, gifts and much more. Your boyfriend was included in this. You’d give him hugs at any and all times, often using it as a greeting, dashing up to him from behind and tackling him into a hug which usually ended in either good luck or bad luck to ensue. You sing his praises, especially when he began to call himself trash, attempting to refute his every point as best as you could and go on and on about how amazing, smart, and kind he was. You’d dragged him into cuddles, holding him close on a bed, or couch, or grass covered ground, and run a hand through his hair, or just stare into his eyes. You’d shower him in gifts whether it be flowers, food, treats, Hope’s Peak paraphernalia, and anything else you could think of that he’d like.
· Nagito however… He’d always sing your praises; even give you gifts but more physical affection… That was something more lacking, him saying it was unfair for trash to touch one as amazing and lovely as you. He’d happily accept all your touches, but he’d never initiate.
· The rainy season had begun, and it was pouring. On your way dashing through the rain to the next building for the library you crashed into the ground, your clothes getting soaked through, and your now bent umbrella carried away into the distant sky by the wind. Not wanting to damage any of the books you opted to sit outside and trying to figure out how you were going to get back to your dorm room with the wind thrashing about, sending large tree branches to be thrown about, easily injuring any who was unfortunate enough to be in its path.
· Suddenly you were held in a tight warm embrace, and umbrella just barely keeping the rain from pelting onto your head was held above you. “Eh- Nagito!?” “Uh, I think you shouldn’t be sitting in a storm like this. Let’s try getting to the dorms, alright?” “Y-Yeah.” And thus, clutching you close he dragged you through the storm.
· Soon the pair of you had reached the dorms… only to find a tree had collapsed before the door, blocking you out. “I’m so sorry, my luck probably did this.” He hugged you even tighter, nuzzling his face into your neck. You could feel a smile tug on his lips as you hugged him. You simply pat Nagito on the head. “I think it’s good luck, for me at least.” “Huh? How?” “You finally hugged me!” Lifting him up you spun around and around, almost toppling over in the process. “But I hug you all the time.” “Yeah, but you started the hug! Even if this is just to keep me warm or something, you hugged me first!” His heart melted hearing that cheerful giggle. So you thought he was trying to keep you warm… That was a good excuse, he wouldn’t have to tell you about how trash like him just wanted to hold you close, hating seeing how sickly you seemed.
Rantaro Amami:
· Rantaro always had a need for physical contact, it was something he always craved, something that seemed to never be satisfied, which was why you were perfect for him. You were one of the most affectionate individuals he had ever met, always holding his hand, and giving him hugs, surprise kisses and such. You were always near by and he could always feel it.
· Being affectionate had just always come so naturally to Rantaro. It was likely due to having so many little sisters who needed and wanted the love, so he never gave a second thought to patting you on the head or giving you a kiss on the forehead.
· There were times though when he did it deliberately, like holding your hand. He always had a need for that or for some sort of contact with you in general should you be nearby. He needed you by his side, to keep you close, so you wouldn’t just suddenly disappear. He didn’t know if he could take losing anyone else.
· It was always just so natural to slip his hands into yours. And every time he did so, you’d tackle him into a hug, cover his whole face in kisses, make a huge show of any affection he gave you with your own.
· The pair of you sat on the couch, and Rantaro felt goosebumps crawl across his skin as a chill drifted through the room. He simply scooched over, draping an arm over your shoulder, pulling himself close. Then suddenly he was tackled onto his back, you nuzzling your face into his chest, hugging him so closely. Rantaro simply chuckled, wrapping his arms around you, getting you to pepper his face with kisses.
· There were times when he wondered why you were like this. Was this a sort of competition for you, or did you just want him to know you appreciated his affection. If you wanted to tell him, you tell him, but there could be no reason, and you just wanted to do so. Whatever it be, Rantaro didn’t care as long as you were happy.
#korekiyo shinguji#nagito komaeda#rantaro amami#korekiyo x reader#nagito x reader#rantaro x reader#Mod Gundham#danganronpa#danganronpa 2#danganronpa2#Super Danganronpa 2#danganronpa v3#danganronpav3#New Danganronpa V3#danganronpa imagine#danganronpa imagines#danganronpa 2 imagine#danganronpa 2 imagines#danganronpa v3 imagine#danganronpa v3 imagines#dr imagine#dr imagines#dr 2 imagine#dr 2 imagines#dr v3 imagine#dr v3 imagines#danganronpa x reader
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Horny Bird (HawksXGN!Reader)
Summary: Hawks gets hit with a libido quirk and tries to hide it from you, obvs very NSFW, no mentions of reader’s genitalia
(first smut chile)
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Today had been a very.. strange day for Keigo Takami to say the least. He went to work like he normally had, and the first villain he took down was supposed to be fairly weak. His quirk wasn’t. Hawks was hit, but he didn’t tell anyone. He didn’t even text you, his loving, live-in partner. Still, after that the individual was pretty easy to take down. Then he had to deal with a few more unsavory characters and began to really feel it.
First thing that happened was he remembered waking up to you this morning and he felt that dull ache in his stomach. Then that feeling happened again. It happened three times after before the rest of his body began to ache. He ended up finishing his shift and coming home with the most painful boner he had ever experienced. Everything in Hawk’s body was tense, and warm, and aching. He wanted you so damn badly. It had been a libido quirk, he wasn’t stupid.
With every step he felt himself shift in his boxers and he had to pause to keep himself from letting out any of the sinful groans he was trying to swallow down. In truth Hawks was surprised it didn’t hit him harder right away, but now he felt like his legs were fucking numb as he trudged inside. He hoped you were taking a nap so he could go in the bathroom and jerk it until his member quit throbbing, but unfortunately he wasn’t that lucky.
He closed the door a little too loudly, and just like that your voice rang out from the kitchen.
“Hey, babe! Made us some dinner, come eat!”
Even hearing your voice made his stomach tighten.
“I-uh..Yeah, just. I need to go lay down for a bit,”
First of all Keigo was stuttering. He didn’t do that. He sounded strangely unsure. You peeked around the corner and took him in. He was red and sweaty. He awkwardly kicked his shoes off and put his jacket on the coat hanger while avoiding your gaze. His headphones were next to go, tossed haphazardly into the nearest chair. His wings were shaking. That was pretty rare.
“Are you okay?
“Never better, birdie.” He gave you that smile. You know the one, but something wasn’t right. He looked like he was straining a bit. Maybe he just had a bad day and wasn’t feeling well.
“Can I lay with you?”
“Uh- sure, yeah.” Weird. He was being hesitant.
In truth you wanted to see what was up with him, but a nap sounded even better. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, leading you to the shared room. You had to admit, Keigo was a fantastic cuddler. His arms were strong and warm, not to mention the way he wrapped his wings around you when the two of you were entangled.
You crawled in first and your boyfriend followed suit. Hawks quickly pulled you into his lap so that your legs were situated around his hips and arms around his neck. You tried not to gasp when you felt his erection against your thigh. He was hard, like, really hard. It was strange to you that he wasn’t addressing that, though. You planted a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth and he affectionately nuzzled his cheek against your shoulder. Two large red wings circled around you like a security blanket. It was almost like he was making sure you stayed with him. It was a little strange how the two of you were sitting, still. You expected he’d lay down like he normally did when he had a bad day, but he didn’t.
Obviously you weren’t planning on leaving anytime soon. Random affection was always nice. You couldn’t help but notice how stiff and rigid his shoulders felt. With one hand you began to gently knead at his shoulder and your other scratched his scalp. Usually that relaxed him pretty quickly. You were surprised with the little happy groan he released against your shoulder. Usually he wasn’t so vocal receiving simple shoulder rubs but you assumed he just really needed it. The horniness probably wasn’t helping either.
“You’re reeeaally tense, honey. Did something happen today?” You hoped he couldn’t hear the smirk in your voice when you shifted a bit in his lap.
Hawks’s hands that were wrapped around your waist tightened a bit and he shook his head, effectively burying his face further into the crook of your neck. You planted a gentle kiss on his shoulder, not missing the way he stiffened a bit under such a small gesture. This wasn’t like him at all. You just hoped he was okay.
Meanwhile Keigo was struggling to hold himself still at all. He couldn’t even think right now. He wasn’t sure how this quirk would affect him sexually though, and he was scared to find out. Besides, admitting he needed your help with something like this would only damage his ego-
A little swivel of your hips interrupted his thoughts, resulting in a muffled moan. Honestly he was surprised he didn’t cum just from that movement alone, but he guessed the quirk also gave him a fair amount of stamina so he was weaker for a longer period of time.
“Unusually cuddly today, aren’t we?”
He let out a frustrated groan into your neck as you moved to nip at his ear. His breathing was heavier than normal, and you swore you heard him let out a little whine as soon as you bit him.
You dragged a hand to the base of his feathers and lightly scratched at the roots. You felt him move beneath you and took that as an opportunity to allow your free hand to wander down his side and up his shirt. You couldn’t help the little smirk that formed on your face when his head finally tilted back as a defeated whimper left his lips. Keigo’s face was red, his brows pinched together and eyes closed.
A sinful look that you usually only saw when he climaxed.
“What’s going on, bird-boy?”
“Got... hit with a-fuck-a quirk.”
“Next time, tell me. I’m more than willing to help, just ask.”
He looked back down and up at you through his long dark lashes.
“Doove, help me out... You can get me there, yeah?”
Your hand that had previously just been exploring his abs began to trace his adonis belt as a little smirk formed on your face. He already knew your answer, but hearing him ask like that made you want to play along.
“’Course I can.”
Leaning forward you pulled him into a deep kiss, taking all of the control. He secretly loved it when you did that. It was full of movement and passion but Keigo could barely keep up. He felt dizzy and hot. You pulled his hair and ground against his erection and he broke this kiss with a shaky breath and puppy dog eyes. That was the begging look. He needed this bad.
You motioned for Keigo to lay back and he did as told, resting his weight on his elbows. You positioned yourself between his legs and began to trace his belt, taking in how flustered he truly was. A few pieces of long blonde hair had fallen onto Keigo’s face. He was sweaty and red, breathing heavily and even chewing on his lower lip to calm himself. You jolted a bit at the realization that he was drawing blood.
“That’s gonna hurt tomorrow, babe.”
With a smile you removed his belt, tossing it to the side and palming him through his pants. He tried to act unbothered, but you saw the way his legs trembled and his grip on the sheets tightened. You wanted to hear him though, so without warning you yanked his pants down as far as you could.
His black boxers already had a significant stain from precum at his tip. The fabric was straining because Hawks wasn’t the smallest guy around by any means. If anything he looked bigger that usual, probably due to the quirk.
You playfully traced his erection through the boxers earning a frustrated moan. You could feel his skin through the boxers and it was unnaturally warm. Hot, even. Looking up though you were met with the desperate eyes of your favorite horny bird and couldn’t really resist.
If you had to guess he was probably pretty uncomfortable. When you abruptly pulled down his boxers Hawks quickly raised his hips to help you out. He didn’t give you the time to pull them father than his mid-thighs, dropping his hips stubbornly. The first thing you noticed was that his dick was...
red.
like.. red, red. And leaking.
“Like what ya see?”
You shot him an eyeroll.
“Still trying to be slick?”
“Always.”
For someone who was suffering from severe horniness he sure was sassy. That changed when you firmly grabbed Keigo and slowly pulled your hand down from his upper shaft all the way down to the base.
“O-Ooohh fuck!”
His eyes screwed shut yet again, head tipped back as a long, unfiltered moan spilled from his pretty lips. You swore you saw his toes curl in his socks.
“You sound so pretty like that,”
Reaching a hand underneath his balls you took the opportunity to massage them with one hand, using your other to thumb at his tip. His head lolled forward, eyes closed and breaths heavy. You gave him another long stroke, pausing to give his leaking head a good squeeze. He physically shuddered, and slowly lifted his head to look at you through strands of damp blonde hair.
“How long were you thinking about this today?”
“God..a- all... all fuckin day-”
He cut himself off with a stifled groan as you pumped him a few more times. Keigo was biting his lip again in an attempt to quiet himself, his eyes were heavy and almost vacant. He was already so fucked out and it was driving you crazy. You sped up your pace, leaning forward to reach a hand up the front of his shirt.
It drove him fucking insane when you played with his chest, and that’s exactly what you did. Your hand found his nipples, giving one a pinch earning a sharp intake of breath. You massaged the sensitive area, tugging at it a few more times. He twitched in your hand from the sensation and you let him go for a moment in order to crawl over him.
It was probably the first time you had seen your boyfriend look so speechlessly flustered. Hawk’s face was red, eyes unfocused and lips slightly parted. You dipped down, capturing him in a slow and hungry kiss. Eagerly he grabbed your hips and allowed himself to fall back completely against the bed. Large red wings shook around you.
His hips involuntarily bucked, hitting your crotch. It was fun teasing him a little but you felt bad. Doing him a favor you reached between the two of you, pumping him again earning a shaky moan against your lips. It was almost immediately that your boyfriend began to fuck your hand. His legs were trembling pretty badly at this point. In truth you weren’t sure why he hadn’t cum yet, but you got an idea.
Prying your lips from his own your began to leave a trail of kisses down his jaw and neck. The small sounds that escaped whenever you grazed him with your teeth were beautiful, but you figured he had suffered enough. He helped you take his pants and boxers completely off despite being pretty weak at the moment. Eventually you got to his hips and settled yourself between his legs.
Instead of wasting time, you licked a stripe up the underside of his shaft earning a choked sound as his head hit the pillow. When you reached the tip you took careful time in using your tongue to prod at the hole. His hips bucked and a heavy sigh left the quivering man. He had been teased enough. You leaned over him and took the head into your mouth, laving your tongue over it in the process.
“Ohhh, (y/n)”
You wrapped a hand around the base of his shaft and relaxed your tongue, taking him in as deep as you could. What you couldn’t fit in your mouth, your hand pulled and massaged. He jolted as his member entered the wet cavern in your mouth. It was so hard to not fuck your throat but Keigo didn’t want to choke you. A long, soft groan left his lips at the sensation as he allowed himself a glance at you.
“Fuck,” He loved seeing you like this.
You began to bob your head up and down, sucking him for all he was worth. Keigo was pretty like this, eyes nearly rolled back in his head, mouth open with soft pants coming through, brows furrowed. Your jaw was beginning to ache from the exertion but it was clear Keigo was close.
You hummed around him and he choked on a groan, his ever so slightly rocking into your mouth. He was trembling and sweaty. The coil in his stomach was so tight he thought he might explode.
“I’m so close, I’m so fucking close..” His voice was shaky and dsperate. It was like music to your ears.
You pulled all the way off of him and all the way down, firmly sucking on Keigo. His head hit the pillow and he let out a long, high pitched moan, body tensing and back bowing off of the bed. You rose with him, swallowing the ridiculous amount of cum that spurted from his tip. If this was what happened when he got hit with a quirk like that you couldn’t help but feel jealous. He flattened against the bed, gently rocking in and out of your mouth as he rode out his orgasm. Keigo propped himself up on one elbow and allowed his head to loll to the side. His moaning had turned into shaky panting at this point, hand now tangled in your hair.
Finally he finished. It was probably the longest orgasm he’d ever had and certainly the most satisfying. You pulled off of him and wiped your mouth with the back of your wrist, giving your boyfriend a satisfied smile.
“Feeling better?”
He shook his head with a light laugh.
“What do you think?”
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The Fall of King Romulus Part 8
Summary: Twin Princes Remus and Romulus are cursed at birth with Honesty and Obedience. When Romulus, who cannot disobey any order, is told to kill his brother the next time he lays eyes on him, he changes his name to Roman and runs away. Roman joins up with a misfit group of adventures and plans to never return to his homeland. But the fae have other plans for him…
Warnings (for whole fic not necessarily individual chapters): Violence, mind whammying/memory altering, curse of obedience related consent issues, references to sex, references to war related injuries/PTSD, references to child abuse/neglect (YMMV on that one but just in case), antagonstic-but-not-exactly villian!Janus, Extremly-moraly-dubious-but-not-exacty-unsympathetic-Remus
Feedback appreciated.
NOW ON AO3 :D
Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7
“From today, you shall have your own rooms.”
“But why?” Remus wails “it’s not fair!” Remus looks up at him, his small faced scrunched and red, tears threatening to fall, “Why aren’t you saying anything?”
“I-“ Roman frowns. He feels too big. Shouldn’t he be the same size as Remus?
“You’re the future king, Remus” their father rumbles, “Your training needs to begin - without distractions.”
“Don’t cry.” Their mother tells him as Remus’ tantrum echoes through the room. She runs a cool hand over Roman’s forehead soothingly.
“I wasn’t.” Roman murmurs.
His mother’s hand turns cruel, pushing his head back, another hand gripping his chin.
“You need to drink, c’mon Roman drink this down for me, please?”
Roman chokes, twisting away. Hot liquid scalds his throat and drips down his chin. There’s a hand in his hair again, stroking gently until it grips tight, forcing his head back “He doesn’t look much like the Prince.” Marcus grunts.
“The mad Prince – Remus of Notaleveale!”
“But.” Roman whimpers, “that’s not-“
“Is he awake?”
“Your father is sick.” Julius tells him. The practice room is high in the north tower, always just too cool to be comfortable, but Roman feels hot. For some reason, water is rushing down the walls. Droplets splash onto his skin and sizzle where they land.
“We’re going to find a way to fix this my Prince, I promise.” Julius smiles at him, his eyes kind and unlined by age.
“What if you can’t.” Romulus whispers, voice breaking. He is the right size now he thinks. He had to tilt his head to look up at Julius who hesitantly pulls him close, letting the boy muffle his dry sobs on his shoulder.
“Then…we will find a way to help you live with it – and I’ll always be here to help you.”
He pulls back to smile at him again, but it’s not kind anymore. The skin flaking away reveals the rictus grin of the skull beneath, and Roman howls, trying to twist away whilst large hands hold him down -
“It’s okay! Roman, it’s okay!”
- he feels something cool on his eyelids, a strong scent of mint mingling with the rot of Julius body-
“Sleep.” a voice murmurs.
When Roman wakes, it’s somewhere he doesn’t recognise. Scratchy sheets pin him down to a bed as effectively as chains. A pale man with violet eyes is pulling at his arm, his arm which hurts. Roman whines, trying to tug the limb out of the pale man’s grip, but his body feels too heavy to obey.
The pale man is trying to talk to him but nothing he says makes sense to Romulus, it’s like listening to a foreign language.
“<My dad’s dead.>” he tells the pale man, because that seems important.
“Roman? Are you awake?”
There’s a hand on his forehead, the voice is saying something about water but Roman ignores it, trying to chase the thought.
If their father was dead, then why was he still Prince Remus?
The next time Roman woke up it was dark. The pale man had disappeared, but there was another figure lying in the bed next to him. The man’s bulk caused the mattress to dip towards him and his snores were so loud they made the whole bedframe vibrate with each exhale.
Turning his head carefully, Roman found himself looking at a face full of scars and freckles. A pale shaft of moonlight from the open window illuminated the man’s ripped ear and a nose that had obviously been broken at some point in the past. Even in sleep, he looked fearsome.
‘Patton’ Roman’s tired mind supplied, and he felt a relieved smile twitch over his face. It pulled at the cut Niki left him, making him bite back a whimper of pain.
He let his head fall back against the pillow. Everything felt heavy, even the air. The room seemed to melt at the edges. But if Patton was sleeping then they must be somewhere safe.
He dozed for a time, listening to the comforting rumble of Patton’s snores, until a withered pair of hands reached for him. The lady of the house began to gently wipe the sweat from his face with a cool cloth.
“<Am I dying>?” he asked her in their own language.
“<You can try.>” She told him dryly, “<Those three will probably end up chasing you down to the underworld too.>”
The lady brought some extra cushions and stacked them behind him, helping him to sit up. From his new vantage point he could see Logan on the floor, one giant book open on his lap and three more stacked beside him. He looked like he had fallen asleep mid study session, his head tilted back against the wall with a thin string of drool hanging from his open mouth.
Roman thought of the last time he had seen him, pinned to Lucius' chest, his eyes wide and frightened behind his glasses, and had to close his eyes. He breathed deeply through his nose until his panic subsided and glanced at Logan again.
He was so relieved to see him whole that might even forgo teasing him about the drool.
The lady brought him a pewter mug filled with something warm that smelt pleasantly of honey and helped him to lift it to his lips when his hands began to shake.
“<When I invited you for tea, this isn’t what I pictured.>” she teased him with a smile.
Roman didn’t smile back, eyes still roaming the room.
“<Where->“
“<Your elf is fine>” she told him, sounding amused “<I sent him on an errand. He would have worn a hole in my best rug if he stood here pacing much longer.>”
Roman did smile then, grip loosening on the mug which she deftly caught before it hit the blankets.
“<I lost my brother.>” he told her, eyes growing heavy again.
“<That was careless of you.>” she said, “<What are you going to do about it?>”
Roman didn’t answer, falling back asleep with the honey still coating his tongue.
The next time Roman woke up, daylight was streaming trough the open window and the last tendrils of fever seemed to have left him. Whilst he still felt tired, the unnatural heaviness was less and his mind was clear.
Unfortunately, his clear mind immediately occupied itself by cataloguing every single way his body was in pain.
His cheek throbbed, the small cut from Niki having been split wider by the force of the hit from Julius’s walking stick. His back and shoulders we’re equally bruised, and protested every tiny movement he made as he tried to resettle himself against the pillows. By far the worst was his hand, which felt like it was still burning.
Choking down any whimpers of pain he focused instead on the strange pressure on his chest.
Opening his eyes revealed the culprit. A grey cat with snow white paws was sitting primly on his sternum. Mittens looked deeply put out by Roman’s attempt to get comfortable and gave him an unsatisfied meow of protest when he continued to move.
“Good morning” Roman whispered, giving him a conciliatory head rub with his good hand, “Did you happen to count how many horses ran me over?”
“Roman!” The bard looked beyond Mittens to see Patton perched on the end of the bed, beaming so wide it almost distracted from the redness of his nose.
“You’re -ah-achoo – you’re awake!”
“Yeah.” He smiled, attempting to rearrange the pillows one handed. “Hey Pat’.”
“Guys!” Patton called, “Ro – achoo – Ro -acHOO – he’s awake!”
There was a thundering of footsteps on stairs and then Virgil all but exploded into the room, eyes wide “How awake is he? – does he recognise you? Patton I told you to put the damm cat outside!”
“Aww but it’s his hou -ah -ah -house,” Patton pouted.
“He recognises you.” Roman added, giving Virgil a half-hearted wave “Also his voice works.”
“Shame.” Virgil snarked but the grin on his face was too wide to hide his relief.
“You. Go bother the pigeons’” he shooed the cat as he came to sit on the edge of Romans bed. Mittens gave him a pointed meow before slinking out of the room, pausing only to rub against Logan’s ankles as it passed him in the doorway.
“How’s your head?” Virgil asked - he reached over to a small beside table and picked up a glass of water, holding it up for Roman to sip.
“Fine.” Roman whispered hoarsely, taking the water from him and drinking greedily.
“What about your hand?” Patton asked, kneeling on his other side, “I’ll ask Mama Tay to brew you some more willow tea, for the pain.”
“Great.”- Roman handed the glass back to Virgil shrank against the pillows as they both peered at him – “but I’m fine, honestly don’t worry yourselves-“
“Fine?” Virgil rolled his eyes, “You look like you went three rounds with a centaur and lost. Badly.”
“Okay, well, that’s rude.” Roman rolled his eyes right back, lifting one arm to try and bat Virgil’s hands away as they reached for him “Get off, Virge I’m fi-“
“Roman.” Logan was the only one who hadn’t come forward to paw at him. He stood in the doorway, most of his face obscured by the shadow. “Let Virgil check your injuries.”
Roman sighed, the fight going out of him. Obediently, he dropped his arms and tilted his head towards the half-elf.
“Oh sure,” Virgil murmured, running skilful fingers over the cut on Romans cheek and the surrounding swelling “you’ll listen when Logan tells you.”
“It’s the glasses,” Roman joked, his voice tired, “gives him authority.”
Once Virgil had finished his inspection of Roman’s face, he insisted at poking and prodding at every inch of him see how his other injuries were healing. Roman sighed but put up with his fussing with as much grace as he could. Virgil removed the bandages on his hand, packing fresh herbs next to the skin and rewrapping it gently with new cloth. The bruises and welts on his back and shoulders had begun to heal, turning from purple and blue to a sickly looking yellow. Virgil smeared something that smelt horrendous on the few welts that hadn’t scabbed over before stepping back, declaring the injuries extensive but, for the most part, superficial.
“Like your lyrics.” he added slyly, which got a squawk of protest from Roman and a giggle from Patton.
His hand was the most concerning. Virgil had him gently flex his fingers -causing Roman to hiss with pain despite his best efforts – before helping him into a sling and giving him strict instructions to hold it still until the herbs had done their work.
As Virgil worked, Patton kept up a running dialogue; happily filling Roman in on the day to day running’s of Mama Tay’s house. How she’d let him use her kitchen to cook for all of them and let Logan take over her small library (although the scholar was still only permitted to call her Mother Octavia). He giggled his way through a story about Mittens’ on going attempt to court the tabby cat who lived across the street – apparently he had attempted to show off by taking on street rat twice his size and spent the rest of the day sulking in the pantry after being summarily chased off.
Between Virgil’s gentle ministrations and the soothing sound of Patton’s voice, Roman found himself slowly relaxing.
Remus wasn’t in the city. His friends had come for him. They’d beaten the bad guy and got away.
He knew he couldn’t just ignore everything that had happened. His friends were eventually going to want some sort of explanation. The thing that had worn Julius face had been able to find him once – he didn’t know how, or how to stop I happening again.
Most importantly, he was no longer sure that Remus was safe.
But for a little while at least, he was with his family. He was safe. Things could start to go back to normal.
“Roman.” Logan said. He was leaning back against the closed door, a look on his face Roman couldn’t quite decipher. “Stand up.”
“Slowly,” Virgil added as Roman rose to his feet. The healer cast a glance back at Logan, confused, “what’re you-“
“Roman.” Logan cut him off. “Stand on one foot.”
Romans whole world seemed to narrow down to the glint of light reflecting off Logan’s glasses.
The rush of blood in his ears sounded very much like the rush of water in the pipe room.
Julius looked at him coldly, ready to categorise each whimper of pain as his leg began to shake, muscles cramping -
Patton’s hand suddenly griped his elbow as he wobbled, breaking the illusion.
Mama Tay’s bedroom was far more cluttered with blankets and knickknacks than Julius practice room. Logan was the one in front of him – face full of gleeful satisfaction as his theory was confirmed.
“I’m right aren’t I.” he breathed, looking dazed – “You can’t diso-“
Remove yourself from anyone who might ask you about your curse. Put as much distance between you as you can.
Roman attempted to fling himself towards the door- immediately realised that this was a bad decision as he still only had one foot on the ground – and pitched forward towards the floor, free arm pinwheeling crazily.
Patton dived to catch him, one big hand grabbing his injured shoulder casing Roman to yell out in pain, which in turn caused Patton to instinctively release him. He found himself falling again, this time crashing into Virgil, who had come running to help. His injured arm exploded in pain as he fell against the other man’s chest.
“Roman! What the hell- Logan?”
“I’m sorry!” Logan’s delight at being proved right had quickly turned into alarm “Stand properly – I mean, stand however you think you should. Um-“
“Roman are you okay?” That was Patton, gently easing him off Virgil “Oh gosh I think you’ve opened your stitches again!”
Roman groaned.
A few moments later Roman was, once again, propped up on the bed. Patton sat next to him, holding his good hand loosely whilst Virgil smeared more of the horrifying smelling salve over the reopened cut on his cheek.
Logan, hands firmly clasped in front of him like a guilty school boy, was filling them in on what he thought he knew.
“Roman cannot disobey a direct order – when Lucius Amata met us on the stairs he was able to compel him not to move.”
“Who?”
“The Marquis of Orenlla!” Logan huffed, exasperated – “The kidnapper!”
“De.” Roman muttered.
“What?”
“Marquis de Orenlla.”
“Hmm,” rather than start an argument of etymology, Logan simply pulled a square slip of card from his waistcoat pocket and started crossing something out with his quill.
“Seriously?” Virgil asked, exasperated “Flashcards?” He twisted the lid back onto the salve pot with rather more force than was necessary “Logan, you didn’t even believe in magic until yesterday and now you’re saying – what exactly are you saying?”
He glanced at Roman, almost fearfully ‘That he’s -that he’s under a spell or cursed or- what?”
“Roman,” Patton’s voice was gentle. “Is that true?”
Roman met his eyes. Patton’s face was as kind as ever. For now.
Never tell anyone about your curse.
But they’d never set rules stopping him discussing what people already knew.
Even so, he braced himself for pain before he nodded.
Patton looked like he might cry.
“So –what?” Demanded Virgil, who had started pacing back and forth down the short length of the bed. “He did that? This Lucius guy?”
“How do we stop it? Do we….kill him?”
“Patton!”
“Well I don’t know!”
“It wasn’t Lucius.” Roman muttered.
He risked a glance at Virgil who was nodding fervently, shaking both hands out in front of himself as he tried to process everything, “No. He – you had it before right? That’s how he was able to get you to go with him.”
Slowly, Roman nodded.
“Was it before we got to the city?” Logan asked. He hadn’t moved from his spot by the door, a thoughtful frown on his face as he gently rotated the flashcards in his hands.
“The forest!” Vigil yelped before Roman had a chance to respond. “When you disappeared right? I knew you were out of it that night! That’s when it happened?”
“Oh, Roman.” Patton gasped, “You poor thing. Has this has been going on for days?”
Roman couldn’t help it; he started to laugh. Drawing his knees to his chest he hunched over them, his shoulders shaking. “No.” he managed to gasp out. “No, not the forest.”
“So…when did it happen?” Patton asked uncertainty. Roman could easily picture the three of them glancing at each other, trying to put the pieces together. He kept his eyes firmly on his knees. He didn’t want to see the moment of realisation.
“Before the forest?” Virgil asked hesitantly. Roman nodded without looking up.
“When I met you…” Virgil continued after a moments silence, “you wouldn’t come back into the tavern with me – you said you didn’t want the innkeeper to tell you to play another night.”
“I remember that.” Logan said “You met us on the road. I thought that was odd at the time. I assumed you were going to lie in wait to rob us.”
Roman could hear the understanding seeping into their voices. He’d been cursed since they met him. He’d been a liability since they met him – they’d hired someone to protect them who could be ordered to throw his sword down by any foe who happened to try. They were going to feel so betrayed. They were going to be so angry with him.
How could he have not told them?
“Oh, Roman – how could we have not noticed?”
Romans head shot up. “What?” he croaked.
Now Patton really did look like he was going to cry, his eyes suspiciously watery. “You’ve been dealing with this all by yourself for – for years?”
“So- “ now Virgil was the one shaking – “So any time I’ve told you to ‘shut up’ you-“
“If you don’t give a timeframe it doesn’t matter much.” Roman blurted quickly, wanting to remove the look of horror from Virgil’s face – “I mean when I was younger it maybe would have but, but I’ve learned work around it so –“
“Younger?” his rambling did not seem to be soothing Virgil’s panic. “How young?”
“Er. Well.” He glanced between the two of them “From when I was a baby. I mean, I don’t remember not being like this.” Patton and Virgil were staring at him with identical slack jawed expressions. Roman wished the bed would swallow him up and spit him out onto he street. “But hey – I was apparently a very agreeable baby – stopped crying so soon as you asked!” he grinned awkwardly, give them a thumbs up with his undamaged hand.
They did not look reassured.
“So, have we ever –“ Patton started,”-have we ever made you do something you didn’t want to-“
“NO! No, Pat - you’re always so polite and if, if it’s not an order it doesn’t count so-“
“I’m not polite.” Virgil muttered.
“You don’t order though.” Roman said quickly, “You’re too-“ he tried to find a nice way to say ‘too riddled with anxiety to give directives’ – “awkward.” he finished sheepishly.
Virgil bristled. “I told you to get lost.” He snarled. “In the forest.”
There was a silence. Roman found himself staring at his knees again and forced his head up to meet Vigils gaze.
“Well. That was unfortunate. But it was fine – you’re both good trackers, you found me easily enough so-“
“But what if we hadn’t!?” Virgil all but yelled, “What if you’d just been lost in the woods till you starved to death or-“
“Virgil.” Patton soothed, “Calm down, he’s fine.”
“He’s not! He’s not safe with us! How many times have we done something to, to-”
“It’s fine.” Roman announced calmly, cutting Virgil off before he could work himself up any further. “You don’t have to worry anymore.”
“What doe that mean?”
“It means – I won’t travel with you anymore. You don’t have to worry about protecting me I’ll just-“
“That’s not what I meant!”
“Roman no!”
“Are you going to order me to stay?” He snapped.
That shut everyone up.
He glared at the pair of them. “Well?”
“No.” Patton said calmly “Of course not. It’s just that-”
“What happens if you disobey an order?” Logan interrupted, causing the other three to jump.
The scholar had been standing so still, gazing off into the distance whilst the argument went on around him, that Roman had almost forgotten he was there.
“I cant.” He answered eventually, trying not to feel resentful of Logan for causing this whole mess.
“But what if you try?” Logan said, “If I told you to raise your hand and you tried to keep it down – “
“It would hurt.” Roman gritted out.
“Hurt how? Can you describe it?” Logan tucked his flashcards away and pulled out a notebook, quill at the ready. Roman gaped at him.
“Logan.” Patton interrupted, “I think maybe Roman needs a break from questions right now-“
“But if we don’t know the parameters of his condition then how are we supposed to fix it?” Logan argued.
“I’ve tried. To fix it.” Roman growled out.
“But you were by yourself before.” Logan said dismissively “Now you have me, well, all of us, working on the problem. I’m sure we will be able to –“
“I wasn’t by myself.” Roman said coldly.
Logan really did remind him of Julius sometimes. They had the same stubborn determination to get the answers they were seeking. But Roman was not going to be anyone’s pet experiment again.
“I am Prince Romulus of Notaleveale.” he announced grandly, as If he was reclining on a throne instead of uncomfortable bed. “I have had the finest minds of the fae and human worlds look into my curse, I hardly think a failed apprentice and a couple of backwater deserters are going to have more success.”
He swept an imperious gaze over all three of them, amused to find they had finally been shocked into silence.
“I will be returning to my kingdom. Your services will no longer be required.”
Part 9
#Roman sanders#logan sanders#patton sanders#virgil sanders#ts lamp#creativitwins#sanders sides fic#THIS IS THE FIRST TIME THEYVE ALL BEEN IN ONE ROOM AND OH MY GOD#THEY TALK SO MUCH#NEW SYMPATHY FOR WHY THE VIDEOS GET SO FRIGGIN LONG#anyway this was so much fun#the big reveal#enjoy#if i update this again before next weekend please punch me in the face i need to work on my flipping essay#sidespart writes#ts: fall of Romulus
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Happiness in Misery
Summary: Amidst the torture that is the Winter Soldier program, Bucky finds solace in another recruit’s company.
Word Count: 6.1k
A/N: Everybody say thank you to @jessalyn-jpeg for beta-reading/crying over this with me
And away, and away we go!
__
A light clunked on loudly overhead, so bright I had to squint in order to see anything at all. “New recruits to train. C’mon,” was the gruff instruction, followed by the sound of metal clicking and the door of my cell swinging open. “Now!”
Silently I followed the guard through the corridors, knowing better than to ask any questions. Instead I wondered what type of recruits they had gathered this time. And whether or not any of them would survive the process. Useless wondering as I already knew the answer. The recruits were going to be a ragtag round up of hopeful prospects: people who put up a fight when being captured. And they might pass today’s training, but the serum would kill roughly half. And the others would die eventually when they proved to be noncompliant and dangerous. Leaving me to train a new batch of recruits, and the cycle would spin on. Exhausting work, but my compliance meant I lived another day. And I’d survived too much to die in captivity.
The large gymnasium training area had about twenty hopefuls lined up along the back wall, guards scattered strategically throughout the room. But it wasn’t the guards I gave my attention to. Some of the recruitments had more fear in their eyes, some with more fire, but all with the identical cold expression. All but one. A young woman at the end of the line had her lips pulled back in a snarl. The fire in her eyes burned brightly as we locked stares, a low rumble in her throat. Her stature felt too small to bear the weight of such intimidation she was projecting, but I liked it all the same. She reminded me of someone I felt I had known before: a small man with an unwillingness to give up. The details were blurry, and I wasn’t sure if the memory was even real. But it gave me hope nonetheless. Hope that almost caused me to smile at her.
I took up my mark in the middle of the room, standing at attention, waiting for the order to be given. Twenty versus one? This would be a breeze.
A whistle blew, but nobody moved, the twenty people looking around in confusion. “Fight!” came the verbal order.
With hesitance, a few people walked my way, fists raised. Punches thrown half-heartedly were easily blocked as I stayed on the defensive. Only defend until they get the serum. You can take the blows, they can’t, and if you accidentally kill another potential… I suppressed the shiver, refusing to let myself go down that path.
Punches and kicks came with less hesitance. Stronger as the expectation of what to do settled in their minds. Grunts of effort filled the room, along with the occasional scream of agony as a fist collided with metal instead of flesh.
I blocked, ducked, and dodged, receiving a couple of well-placed hits, but I stayed on my feet, my body barely moving from my original mark.
Five minutes ticked by, then ten, each prolonged minute resulting in more recruits sitting down in exhaustion. As fifteen minutes neared, three people were still trying to fight me. But they were getting wiser about it. They started working as a team.
Two of them advanced. The distraction. I defended the advances, scanning around for the third, knowing they were coming but unable to locate them as the other two kept giving me their all. Then, something, or rather someone, came crashing full force into my side, my feet squeaking against the wooden floor at the unexpected hit.
I thought that was it. The one sneak attack just outside of my peripheral. But no. Again, the body slammed into me, the ear-piercing squeak from my boots sliding on the wood emitting around the room again. Then a third attempt that finally knocked me unsteady.
My hand flew out to break my fall, but the body came at me again, full on tackling me to the ground. And because flinging them off, even in defense, would result in trouble for me, I had no choice but to let it happen.
My back hit the ground, the person landing on top of my chest. With a yell, they started hailing punches down on me, their knees driving into my sides. I raised my arms over my face, and tucked my legs, rolling out from under them.
They fell off of me in a huff, and I knew they weren’t ready to give up. Unfortunately for them, I was the quicker one to my feet. Gently, I pressed one of my boots on their chest, getting a good look at the opponent who’d managed to do what many have failed to do. The young woman, her snarl still in place, the growl still in her throat.
She gripped my ankle, trying to push my foot off her. When that didn’t work, she switched to hitting my foot as hard as she could, yelling all the while.
In a simple, but swift motion, I lifted my foot off of her, then pulled her up by the front of her shirt, setting her on her feet. I flickered my gaze over to a guard who nodded, before blowing a whistle.
Knowing they didn’t care for, need, or want my input, I turned to head back to my cell, certain I would see the young woman again very soon.
~~~
“Do you talk at all?” a voice asked me as a tray slammed down across the table from me.
I raised my eyebrows in silent question as the young woman from earlier sat down across from me, fork poised over her dinner as she studied me. Waiting for an answer I never gave.
Each of us took a bite of food, chewing while we studied the other. “Well?” she asked with an impatient eye roll. “Do you not speak English? Hello?” She waved a hand in front of my face. “Earth to Robot Arm. Anyone home?”
“It’s James,” I stated, flatly.
Her eyes flashed in delight. “He speaks!” she marveled. “So… what’s the deal with this place?”
“That’s confidential. You’ll learn on a need to know basis. If you’re lucky.”
“If I’m lucky? Uh-oh. Don’t like the sound of that…”
“Just do as you’re told.”
“Mmm… Is that what you were doing earlier by not fighting back? Doing as you were told?”
“You don’t want to fight me.”
“You don’t know what I want.”
“Yes, I do. You want to survive. And I’m telling you the best way to do that is to follow orders, and keep your mouth shut!” My words were harsh, but I needed her to understand. And I feared I’d already said more than I was ever supposed to.
~~~
The screams of those deemed worthy of moving on to Phase Two sounded through the halls the next morning. Tortured screams of agony as the serum changed them on a molecular level, setting every nerve ending on fire. Panicked screams as it took with some, and wiped out others, no one sure of which category they fell into until it was too late. The burning was otherworldly, but from experience, you wanted the burn. The burn meant you were alive. A test of survival in the cruelest of manners.
The screams lasted all day. The cafeteria held faces covered in haunted exhaustion or sheer terror of the fate that still awaited some. In their faces, I scanned for hers, feeling my heart drop when I couldn’t find her.
“You could have warned me,” her voice said, heavy with exhaustion as she joined me across the table.
I let out my breath in a sigh of relief. “How are you feeling?”
“A lot better than them, that’s for sure,” she said, raising a finger to gesture at the screams still echoing throughout the compound.
I nodded, keeping my thought of how she looked better too to myself. She now had a fighter’s body to match her fighter’s spirit, no longer the fragile thing she’d been yesterday.
“You don’t say a lot do you, James?”
“No.”
“Woooow,” she deadpanned.
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not sure what your deal is, but I’m not the person you want to make friends with. In fact, I’m about to become your worst nightmare.”
She waved her hands sarcastically. “Oooo, I’m so scared, James. What makes you think I want to be friends with someone who hasn’t even asked me my name yet anyways?”
“It’s not important.”
“Riddle me this. How is it important for you to go out of your way to look for me, and be relieved that I seem to be okay, but that importance doesn’t cross over into knowing my name?”
I opened my mouth to answer, but she cut me off.
“And don’t bother with some line about how you weren’t looking for me, or care if I’m okay, because we both know that’s a lie. We don’t know each other all that well, but I know damn well that you aren’t asking the others if they’re okay, or looking around worriedly for them. So what gives, James?”
“I care because you’re proving you have what it takes to survive. But learning your name, or anything about you for that matter, is a useless waste of time because unless you listen to what I told you about following orders and keeping your mouth shut, you won’t survive.”
“And why do you care if I survive, or not?”
“Because you remind me of something I think I used to know.”
“Did that person survive? Or am I your sick attempt at a second chance?”
“I don’t know. I don’t even know if he was real, or if I made him up.”
“Damn, that’s dark…”
I shrugged. “Just try not to hate me too much when I get my revenge for you knocking me on my ass the other day.”
Her eyes sparkled playfully. “Oh really? You gonna fight back this time?”
“I’m allowed to now.”
~~~
It took a few days for her to learn what I meant. Phase Three happened at a slower pace. Instead of a group fight where I couldn’t do much besides play defensive, Phase Three meant individual hand-to-hand combat. And I wasn’t allowed to hold back.
For them to run their proper tests, and to make sure I was always in top form, Phase Three was spread out over a week, with a fight occurring once a day. But, I knew well enough now that if Phase Three was only a week, it meant that only seven had survived the serum of Phase Two.
I fought her on day four.
Much like the first day, she had a snarl on her lips and fire in her eyes. And she wasted no time in figuring out her newfound strength as she attacked.
Her blows landed harder and with more accuracy as I blocked, waiting for the break I knew was coming to launch my own offensive against her.
My first swing connected with her stomach, and when she hunched, I hit her in the jaw, taking a small pleasure in the way her eyes widened in surprise.
Back and forth we went in a choreographed dance of exchanging hits, the serum putting her on an even playing field with me. And while I had more training, she still had that unwillingness to quit, making us more even-matched than most recruits I’d fought with.
With no one yielding, the guards ordered us apart after a half hour, both of us bloody and bruised, but still with more than enough energy and sheer willpower to keep going.
“If it wasn’t for your fancy arm, I would’ve had you,” she tried to joke later at dinner.
“No you wouldn’t have,” I smirked. “You’re gonna need a lot more training to take me down.”
“I’ve done it once, I can do it again.”
“It took you four tries, and two other people distracting me. And I wasn’t allowed to fight back,” I reminded her. “So keep gloating over that victory, cuz it’s the only one you’re gonna get with me.”
“That’s what you think. But, I think it’s time you learned the name of the girl who’s gonna take you down.”
My eyes went wide. “No, don’t!” I rushed to stop her.
“Y/N,” she said anyway.
“God damn you…”
“Oh, relax. I know your name. What’s the big deal?”
“If you have to ask, then you haven’t been paying attention.”
~~~
Names, along with any personal details, meant attachments. Attachments meant caring. And caring meant getting hurt. And as much as being alone sucked, getting hurt sucked a lot more. Physical pain I was growing accustomed to. But emotional pain? A risk I avoided at all costs.
Thankfully, stubborn streak aside, Y/N appeared to take my advice to heart. When the remaining six of her recruitment class started dropping, I knew she had her suspicions that she wanted to talk with me about. But she didn’t voice them until the evening she walked into the cafeteria and it was just her and me.
“What the hell is this place, James?” she asked me in a whisper. “And I swear if you tell me that’s confidential information, I will bash your head into the table until I see brain matter.”
I snorted at her threat as I glanced around. “The name changes depending on who you ask. The Super Soldier Project. The Winter Soldier Program. The Americans called it Operation Rebirth.”
“Operation Rebirth? That’s what made that Captain America guy. Are you saying we’re him?”
“Yes, and no. America had their version. And Hydra has theirs.”
“Who’s Hydra?”
“We are.”
“And the serum?”
“Made you a super soldier. And Hydra’s going to either make you the perfect obedient soldier. Or they’ll get rid of you.”
“Is that what happened to everyone else? They got…” She slid her thumb across her throat.
I nodded. “If the serum doesn’t kill you, Hydra will.”
“Hasn’t killed you,” she pointed out.
“That’s because I play by their rules.”
“So that’s why.”
“Why what?”
“Why you don’t talk much. And why you’re short with me when you do. It’s a defense mechanism. A useful one, but a defense mechanism all the same.”
“Congratulations, you cracked the code,” I deadpanned, before reaching for the cookie on my tray and handing it to her, “Wanna cookie for being so smart?”
“How about you teach me how to become one of the survivors like you instead?” she asked, taking the small dessert from me anyway.
~~~
Although missions and training were tense under Hydra’s zero tolerance for error expectations, having Y/N around almost made it bearable. Something about misery loving company.
Under Hydra’s eye we became the perfect unit. The compliant assassins. And after the exceptionally tough days, it was nice to have someone to seek comfort in. Gentle reassurances that we’d survive after nightmares plagued our sleep, or after we helped bandage up each other’s wounds in the infirmary after a mission mishap.
Knowing that we weren’t alone in our hellish existence was enough to keep us from going completely mad.
Right up until a mission went wrong. Or maybe it went right.
Y/N was fighting with a red-haired woman, my own focus fully locked on the blonde man with the shield that he kept trying to hurl at my face. A wild swing sent my mask scattering to the ground and when I locked gazes with the man, he paused. Confusion and concern replaced the fighting exertion previously painted on his face. His eyebrows furrowed together. “Bucky?” he asked slowly.
“Who the hell is Bucky?” I asked in equal confusion. Memories of a blonde man similar to the one in front of me flashed through my head in a rapid succession. Memories I never knew were real or not. But as I stared at the man and he continued to stare at me, part of me wondered if maybe the memories were real. More than that, I wanted them to be real. Or at least, I think I wanted them to be real.
An explosion went off, and someone was tugging me forcefully away as the man ducked for cover. “James!” Y/N hissed in my ear as we made a break for it. “What the hell was that?!”
“I- I don’t know,” I told her. “I-I think I know him. Knew him.”
“Well you better forget real fast,” she said, her voice a low warning.
“I know…” I replied, internally wincing at what I knew was coming for having hesitation during a mission.
~~~
I wasn’t sure which was worse. My own painful interrogation session, or listening to hers across the hall, her screams of “No! I don’t know anything! I swear!” filled with more terror than I ever knew a scream could hold.
Leave her alone! I wanted to scream at them. She’s telling the truth! It’s me! It’s my fault! But all I could do was answer their questions as vaguely as I could. I don’t know how the man recognized me. I don’t know if I know him. I was just following orders, I don’t know what happened, but it won’t happen again. I won’t hesitate, they could trust me.
And then try not to scream so loudly myself as electricity shot throughout my body.
~~~
Her face bore the same scratch marks as mine, her eyes holding the same skittish fear, body flinching at every excessively loud sound. My fingers itched to reach out to her. To have the pads of my thumbs soothe the ache in the abrasions, and catch the tears threatening to spill down her face. To allow us each, for even the briefest moment, the chance at vulnerability and weakness. But I swallowed thickly, and with it the urge, forcing my face to remain blank and void. Not in here, James, not in here.
“James…” her voice croaked across the table at me, her eyes even struggling to meet mine.
Quickly I pressed a finger to my lips, scanning around the cafeteria. “Shh. Not here.”
“Hurts, James.”
“I know.”
“Worse than training.”
“I know.”
We ate what we could stomach before slinking off to the barracks. Now that the serum was proving to be working more often than not, we’d gotten a small upgrade. No longer trapped in a cell by myself, I now had an entire barrack to myself. Technically there was a no fraternization rule, but it mostly applied to the new recruits that continued to come in droves, leaving Y/N and I with the closest thing to real privacy we could get in a place like this.
“They didn’t believe me,” she said, taking a seat on one of the bunks. “They know how close you and I are, so they think I knew the man too.”
“I’m sorry…” I said, the bunk creaking as I sat next to her.
“Why did that man think he knew you? And why did he call you Bucky?”
“Do you remember back when we met I said that you reminded me of someone I think I used to know?” I asked in lieu of answering.
“Was that him?”
“I think so… I- Everything about my past life before Hydra is a messy blur. That’s part of the training. Making you forget. Making you unsure of what little you do remember. But if he knew me, then that means that those memories I have are real. And if he’s still around…” I didn’t dare finish my thought. Didn’t dare let myself go down the path of hoping that I could turn the clock backwards. Get my life back. It was useless because I knew better than by now to think there was any chance of getting out of Hydra alive. And it was utterly selfish as I locked gazes with Y/N and she nodded sadly in understanding what I left unsaid.
“If he’s from your past, and he’s still around, that means you have hope,” she voiced it anyway.
“Yeah…”
“Take your chance, James.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why not? If you have a chance to get your life back, why not take it?”
“Because.”
“Because why?!” she snapped, angry that I appeared to be stupid enough to not risk everything to get the hell out of here.
“Because they’ll kill you! They’ll think you had a hand in it, and they’ll kill you for it! And I’ve worked too damn hard to keep you alive, so you’re not dying because of me, understand?!” matching her anger at her not understanding that I couldn’t leave her behind. That I didn’t want to leave her behind.
“Coward,” she spat in my face.
I rose to my feet, towering over her. “Coward?! I’m the reason you’re still alive, but I’m the coward for wanting to keep you that way?!”
“Yes!” she shouted, glaring up at me as she stabbed a finger into my chest. “You trained me. Not them. So do it! Take your chance! And let them try to kill me. But something tells me that they won’t want to do that.”
“Oh, and why’s that?”
“Because I’m stronger than them for one. And for two, it would be a stupid waste for them to lose not one, but two super soldiers.”
“That’s a stupid gamble.”
“Take your chance, James, and we’re both free.”
“Both of us can’t get free at the same time.”
“I know. So just come back for me, okay? Take your chance. Then come back. Be my hope, like this man is yours. And we can handle whatever comes after that.”
She spoke with such certainty that I wanted to believe her. I wanted to believe that getting out would be worth whatever potential consequences would surely follow. I wanted hope. And what really were the consequences? We both already knew what Hydra was capable of. We already lived in a situation that was worse than death. A life lived constantly on edge, wary of every move we made. So maybe it really wasn’t that stupid of a gamble after all. “Okay,” I promised. “Okay.”
~~~
It turned out that getting free meant a lot of isolation, which I was already used to, so it wasn’t that much of an adjustment. Well, isolation within reason I should say. I had to stay low, off the radar. But I wasn’t alone. I had the blonde man. Steve. His name was Steve. And we’d been close friends before. And he helped me make sense of the muddled memories of my past, like slowly putting together a puzzle where all the pieces were one color, impossible to differentiate one from the other. And he had his friends, the Avengers they called themselves. And they helped me too where they could, breaking down the mental blocks Hydra had instilled in me.
But the fear lingered. Not so much that Hydra would eliminate me once they found me. If they found me. But fear for Y/N. Fear for what she had to suffer through for the cost of my freedom. Fear that I wouldn’t be able to hold up my end of the promise of being her hope of getting out. A fear that ate away at me every day I was cooped up in the Avengers headquarters.
And then, one morning a newspaper was slammed down in front of me. “What is this?” Steve asked, his tone somehow both demanding and soft.
I looked down at the article. A headline about a recent attack on the UN. A grainy black and white photo of the building in flames, and a blurred image of a person slinking away amongst the chaos. But even though the person was blurred, I could make out what they were wearing because I’d worn it myself for so many years.
For a moment, panic made my chest tighten. Had I? No… I couldn’t have… Could I? No. No, it had to be her. There was no way it could have been me.
“Buck,” Steve prompted, his arms crossed as he waited for an answer.
“I- I don’t know. I didn’t do it, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“No, I know you didn’t do it. But word on the street is that it's related to Hydra.”
“Okay,” I said, not sure what kind of answer he was looking for.
He sighed. “There’s only so much we know about Hydra. But you…”
There it was. The reason he was bringing this to my attention. Not to accuse me. But so that I would provide the much needed intel as the resident Hydra expert. Unfortunately, I didn’t have an answer he was going to like. “They never told us anything. They gave us the target, and we carried out the mission. Ready to comply…” I clicked my tongue in my cheek with disdain, shuddering at the bad taste that the last three words left in my mouth.
He pointed a finger at the blurred person. “But do you know how many others like you are out there? How many are under Hydra’s control?”
“Just me and her. They keep trying to make more. Waves and waves of people. But nobody lasts long. They kept me out of necessity. They kept her because I trained her to be a necessity as well.”
“So bringing her down is…”
“Not an option unless you involve me.”
“But if we get her, we get Hydra.”
“Yes. But trust me, you can’t get her without me. She won’t let you, for one thing. And for another, I won’t let you.” Unless I was the one standing in front of her, she’d kill anyone in her path because that’s what she'd been trained to do. It’s what kept her useful to them. And hell, even if it was me standing in front of me only guaranteed that I’d be on the receiving end of her skills. But I had the advantage of knowing her moves before she made them. After all, they were my moves.
“No,” he shook his head. “No. You tell us everything we need to know about how to bring her in, but you’re not on this mission, Buck. We’re not risking having you near Hydra.”
“Then you don’t have a mission.”
“This isn’t the time for threats, Buck. This is serious.”
“I’m not threatening you. I’m telling you the facts. If I am not on that mission with you, she will treat you like a target for her own protection against Hydra. And you do not want to be a target. Bring me on the mission. We get her. We take down Hydra. It’s that simple.”
He sighed, his face contorting in deep concern and worry. “It’s a huge risk… you being near Hydra.”
“It is,” I agreed. No point in disputing the obvious. “But here’s the thing. Hydra taught me how to do a lot of things undetected.”
He sighed again. “I’m not sure how well I like this plan. But I’m gonna trust you on this. We all are.”
~~~
“If you find her, tell me,” I directed with authority. “Nobody engages with her, but me. Understood?”
There were nods and murmurs of agreement. The memory of fighting me was still fresh in their minds, none of them were overly eager to engage with another super soldier of my caliber again if they didn’t have to. And Y/N wouldn’t hesitate like I had. I’d be lucky if she pulled her punches, but I wasn’t counting on it. She didn’t know we were coming. And she couldn’t give Hydra the slightest inkling that she was pulling a fast one on them once I located her. It was a delicate balance of using the skills Hydra had drilled into me against them.
Perhaps lucky for all of us, they didn’t really know what or who to look for, whereas I did.
I noticed the shadow well before anyone else, slinking away to catch her off guard. I crept quietly up behind her, and as I reached out to grab her, she whirled around, a knife burying into my side. I hissed through my teeth, not having expected that at all, and pulled the blade free, letting it clatter to the ground as we locked gazes, her eyes wide as she took me in.
I nodded in answer at the question she didn’t dare ask, pressing a finger to my lips.
Her eyes flickered to the small bloom of blood that was darkening my shirt, and when she raised her eyes again to meet mine, I thought she might look apologetic. But all she did was smile sinisterly at me.
Alright, game on, I thought. “Initiate plan,” I spoke into my earpiece, as I dodged the punch she delivered my way.
The plan was a diversion so Y/N could disappear with me under Hydra’s radar, preferably before we had to actually hurt the other, current knife wound aside.
It was like deja vu of our first meeting, her attacking and me playing defense. The only difference this time was that when her blows did land, the hit was rather painful, especially when she targeted her hits to my weakened side.
I took it all in stride, blocking and dodging the best I could against her as I waited for the diversion I knew was coming.
When the building went pitch black, I struck out, knocking her own comm system out of her ear and stomping on it forcefully, listening to the crunch of it under my boot. “Move!” I barked, grabbing her arm.
I dragged her along for a few steps before she found her footing, her stride matching mine quickly as we made our escape. I knew she wanted to say something, but I shook my head sharply. There were still risks that Hydra was listening somehow, even if I’d broken the main way of connection to her.
Through a tangled maze of hallways, I navigated our way through the dark to the getaway car, the van doors pulling open welcoming us. I shoved her in ahead of me, sparing a glance behind before I jumped in after her.
Aside from the sound of us catching our breath, the van was silent as the driver peeled out, and headed back to headquarters.
Then, as reality settled in that the mission had gone off exactly as planned, Y/N threw herself across the bench seat, crashing into me.
“Ow…” I wheezed, as she held me in a vice grip hug.
She immediately let go, sliding across the seat away from me. “James…” she said, her voice a tremble of a whisper.
I nodded, opening my arms for her to fall back into. “It’s over,” I soothed, relishing in the feeling of holding her against me. “It’s all over. We’re safe.”
“Oh, James,” she wept, her fingers softly grazing over my injured side.
“Shh, don’t worry about that. It’s over. We’re safe. I’ve got you.”
~~~
I wish I could say that getting Y/N out of Hydra meant that all our problems went away. But that wasn’t the case. Because what came with the fallout of bringing down Hydra was having to figure out what to do with not one, but two super assassins with a crime record a mile wide. Words of “pardons” and “life-sentences” were thrown around. There was also the concern that even though Hydra had been brought down, that they could resurface in the future, and would go to any length to recapture what they had lost. And they could do it too. They caught me twice before, and her once. How hard could it be to do it again?
It was very much the conundrum of winning the battle while the larger war still raged on. And when they started the circle of fighting over options for the millionth time in an hour, I snapped.
My hands slammed down on the table in the conference room, startling everyone. “Shut up!” I hissed. “Shut up with your pardons, or ideas of serving time! Shut up with your Hydra worries! Just shut up!”
“Buck-” Steve started.
“No!” I thundered, rising to my feet. “The only people who can protect me and Y/N, are me and Y/N! We know what it takes to survive Hydra! So just… Don’t worry about her and me. I got it covered.”
“Buck-” Steve tried again.
“No,” I shook my head. “Look, I’m grateful for all the help. But we’re not a problem you guys need to solve.”
“Well,” Tony cleared his throat matter-of-factly. “Most of us live in the facility here. Accommodations. Easy to track each other down when we need to. Security.”
I smiled wryly at the man. He was as egotistical as his father had been, but he was a man of action over words, and wasn’t big on emotions, which was something I could both respect and relate to. No sense in being sentimental about things that didn’t require sentiment. Words of thanks were on my tongue, when a scream echoed through the building.
While they all looked around at each other with more startled expressions, wondering who had screamed and from where, I took off at a run.
I burst into the room she was in, finding her curled up as tight as she could be, eyes frantic as she cowered in the corner of the room. “Y/N…” I said softly, feeling my heart crack in my chest. Electricity shooting through my body was less painful than seeing her scared, because I knew how hard she always fought to not let that part of her show. As much as I liked to think she’d survived everything because I’d been there to ensure it, that was only half of the truth. She’d set the world on fire before daring to admit that she was scared. And this now made it the third time I’d seen her this terrified, and all I wanted was to set the world on fire for her. Make everyone pay for any ounce of hurt she’d ever endured.
“James?” A broken sob of uncertainty.
I nodded, taking a slow step forward. “It’s me. I’m here.”
“Where are we?”
“With the Avengers.”
“No more Hydra?”
“No more Hydra.”
Her lower lip trembled, a rogue tear sliding down her face. “You came back?”
I smiled, taking quicker and longer strides now across the room, closing the distance between us. Always too much distance. “I promised you I would,” I said, sitting down next to her.
“You don’t know how hard it was without you… What they did when they realized you were gone…” Her breathing sped up as the tears spilled faster.
“Shh,” I soothed, pulling her into my arms, much like I had in the drive over here. “Nobody’s ever gonna hurt us again, okay? I’ll keep you safe. Always. We’ll be okay. I’ve got you.”
We sat like that for a while, me rubbing at her back as she calmed down and slowly relaxed her body against mine. And then I felt laughter bubbling up in my chest, and before I could stop it, both of our bodies started shaking with the force of my laughter. “What are you laughing about?” she asked with her own giggle.
“I just-” I wheezed, fighting to get the words out as I tried to stop laughing. “It’s just…” I took a large intake of breath to steady myself. “Oh, man… Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to be able to do this?” I asked, meaning me holding her, but I didn’t wait for an answer, the words spilling from my lips. “I- I was alone for so long. I got used to not caring about people, and not being cared about. Used to turning off that emotional part of me. But every time I tried to push you away, you pushed back even harder. And… God… you ruined me. You absolutely ruined me.”
“You don’t sound that angry about it,” she said, her fingers resting gently against my chest that heaved with each half chuckle of breath I took.
“I’m not. You’re the first person I cared about after Steve. You were the only person I cared about when I was the worst version of myself. And I- The lengths I would go through to make sure you’re safe. The lengths I have gone through, and will always go through for you… I just… You mean a lot to me, and I hope you know that even if I don’t always have the words to say it directly.”
“I love you too, James.”
__
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@cxddlyash @stanofalotofthings @philthepegacorn @youngblood199456 @binxiboo @creator-appreciator @felixtok @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @jessalyn-jpeg @lilyoflower @mychemicalimagines @rougese7en @milea @partiesandblurrypolaroids @summerdaughter
#happiness in misery#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes x reader#avengers#marvel#calpal irwin
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The Tarnish Series - Complete
Summary: y/n finds a letter that isn’t meant for her
Warnings: ANGST, mentions of vomiting and nausea, mentions of implied smut, mentions of drunk driving, angst in the beginning, angst in the middle, angst near the end, time skip of 2.5 years and slight fluff
Word Count: 32.3k words
A/N: a repost of my collab with @devilinbetweenthesheet-s so you can find all the series parts in one post! p.s the word ‘thought’ was used 72 times
DISCLAIMER: this is not an accurate description of who Harry/Camille are in real life. this is purely fictional for the purpose of entertainment.
It was one of those days where Y/N had a sudden itching in her body to clean. Not just her closet, or her and Harry’s room--but the entire fricking house. The size of their shared home was ridiculous. There were many times when Y/N suggested moving into a smaller home, a cozy house with just enough rooms to hold them and an unexpected guest for the rest of their nights. It led to numerous fights about how Harry felt like she was dictating how to spend his hard-earned money, but they all ended in mushy hugs and soft-spoken apologies.
Y/N learned how to wake up in an empty house. The sudden chill raised goosebumps on her skin as she walked into the home studio Harry had installed a few months after buying the mansion. He felt as though he would be more productive knowing that he didn’t have to travel when inspiration struck. Harry was a bit private with the room, opting to not have anyone else in there unless he was present; not even Y/N. She understood that he needed something that was just for him. Living in the spotlight surely strips an individual out of their humanity and presented in a cookie-cutter way as if he was perfect. All his childhood memories were simply origin stories--a life he once lived before it changed forever. Now, he was Harry Styles the singer/songwriter, actor, host, and situational comedian.
Despite the voice at the back of her head practically screaming at her to not enter, Y/N was stubborn enough to ignore it. It was the last room she had yet to clean and she wanted to feel accomplished knowing that she was productive today. Y/N hummed mindlessly, twisting the knob before pushing it open. The lights flickered on to dim lighting, the clear glass reflecting a subdued figure of her as the glowing bulbs highlighted the expensive instruments littering the room.
Y/N puffed her cheeks out as she inspected the space. It wasn’t as messy as she had expected, only a few crumpled pieces of paper probably thrown out of frustration beside the trash can, the couch and the mechanic board. She rolled her eyes at Harry’s tendency to not clean up, especially after scratching ideas that weren’t good enough. He didn't want to give those a second thought.
As she approached the coffee table in front of the sofa, Y/N couldn’t help but notice one of the many leather-bound journals that Harry kept to scribble his thoughts and ideas into. A sharp corner of a crisp envelope was buried beneath it.
My love.
Y/N raised her brow at the cursive lettering on the back, assuming that it was her for her. She should have known better when she caught sight of the stamp at the left-hand corner, ready to be mailed but her excitement overshadowed the looming truth, gently raising the flap to pull the handwritten letter out.
My love,
I hope you find this letter well. I apologize for acting like such an old man, sending a letter by post instead of living in the modern age of instant messaging.
She chuckled at the words Harry wrote. He really did have an interesting sense of humour.
First of all, I’d like to thank you for sticking with me throughout our relationship. I know that we’ve had our ups and downs but I wouldn’t have anyone to spend it with aside from you, my love. I’m away too much—I know. I leave for work to see the world, to see the fans while sharing them a piece of myself. But I could never forget giving a piece of myself to you. You absolutely have my whole heart in the palm of your hands’.
Y/N blushed at his confession. She felt a little guilty for reading without his explicit permission but there was no doubt in her head that he was getting the best treatment as soon as he walks through the front door. Y/N couldn’t believe how lucky she was for finding a man like Harry willing to be so open and vulnerable with his feelings.
The times at the cafe where we read together, sipping on our coffees and I’d catch your eyes staring at me.
She sighed dreamily, picturing his forest green eyes in her head. The intensity that he wore whenever he observed made a flush appear on her cheeks and butterflies to go haywire in her stomach. It was what they had done during his break. Starting a book club with him made the actual book interesting because he read to her in the softest voice and asked her what she thought when a character seemingly has done something out of the blue.
The Beachwood Cafe will always have a special place in my heart.
That was the moment when anxiety struck her like a bolt of lightning; quick to change the enchanted feeling in her heart and replacing it with fear. Harry talked about the cafe with such adoration that Y/N requested for him to bring her there one day. They haven’t done so yet.
Y/N bit her lip nervously, gnawing at the skin despite applying lip scrub on it the night prior. The organ in her chest pounded with each syllable sticking to her tongue as she silently whispered along. Hands shaking with passing seconds, Y/N almost did not want to let her eyes drift to the bottom of the page, fearing that what she feared would stare at her straight in the face.
I’m finally ready to face my fears of telling her that our relationship isn’t working out. I know that we have both been wanting it to be just us for a while.
She repeated the statement over and over, trying to make sense of who he was talking about. Was it their relationship? It couldn’t be because that would mean that Harry was being unfaithful. Was he cheating on her? Y/N’s mind was dizzy with thoughts being fired back and forth. The impulsive side of her was dead set on confronting Harry about this letter but the logical pair wanted to reach the end of the letter before making an assumption. She couldn’t just start a fight based on a misunderstanding; that was one of the things that Harry hated about his exes. They were too easily manipulated by the media to immediately doubt him when the tiniest rumour rose. But this letter was written right from Harry’s hand, his pen lying innocently on the table beside the journal.
You're the love of my life, Camille. I promise I'll end it with Y/N soon. We're meant to be, I truly believe it. I love you so much.
Petrified. If there was one word to describe the lump building in her throat and the churning of her stomach going awry; it was petrified. The sinking feeling as if her esophagus was stretched to its extent, swallowing a chunk of realization down her throat to the pit of her stomach swelling in nausea and nervousness.
Four years, Harry and Y/N have been together. There was no doubt in her mind that she loves him dearly, dreaming of a life that they would share in the future. He wanted it with someone else. He was building it with someone else. Y/N released a sob from her soft lips, her breath hitching as she tried to calm down. Talk to him first, she reminded herself. But what was there to talk about? Y/N had evidence in her hand that he was still speaking to Camille (Did he even stop?). That Harry was going to leave her, that he was cheating on Y/N.
Y/N had a plan in case this happened to her. She has watched way too many movies and snickered at the way the character always seemed to let the news of a cheating partner break their whole being. And she would like to apologize to them right now because she understood exactly the type of weight smashed unto her shoulders; too heavy to lift up by herself and it seemed as if she was crushed, watching Harry walk away from them; from her.
The words appeared to jump out of the page, especially her name. Camille. Written so prettily as if Harry took the time to pen her name with such carefulness and design. Y/N wanted to projectile vomit from her discovery but she couldn’t leave a mess in his fancy studio. And God, she hated herself right now for thinking about how Harry would react when her world was crumbling around her.
I’m leaving Y/N. We can finally be together and I wouldn’t have to worry about getting caught, Camille. I’m sorry that it’s taken me such a long time. I’ve kept you waiting for me but your patience is something that I greatly appreciate.
With her heart rate picking up, Y/N’s hand shook as she struggled to fold the letter properly as if she never saw it. One glance at the paper showed dotted streaks of wetness and only then did she realize the tears lathering her cheeks. Her cornea stung slightly, sensitive to the air as she blinked hard to will her tears back in. How long has this been going on?
“Y/N!?” Harry’s husky shout of her name boomed from the entrance. The large interior reverberating his voice, yet she failed to hear.
Harry quickly walked to the studio to retrieve the letter he was supposed to mail out today before he came home. Unfortunately, he forgot it in the midst of rushing after a slow-session of love-making with Y/N between the sheets early this morning.
Y/N did not know who’s heartbeat was thumping in her ears; hers or Harry. His lids peeled back to showcase surprise and horror plastered on his lips in the shape of an ‘o’. Harry could only hope that Y/N hadn’t gotten too far in reading the private letter. However, the way she rejected to meet his gaze after catching the guilty expression of his features; it was too late.
“Baby, please,” He whispered, the humming of the mechanic board switched on from last night’s session. Y/N shook her head, refusing to hear a bullshit apology spewing out of his mouth in a word vomit of ‘sorry’s’ and ‘i didn’t mean to’ because if he didn’t, why did he do it in the first place?
She walked past him, flinching as her shoulder brushed his and a gasp fell out of her mouth. Y/N didn’t know what to do but she knew that she wasn't to be surrounded by the one person who she thought would never hurt her. Long strides led her to the bedroom where she swiftly grabbed a duffel bag hidden away in the corners of the closet to pack a few items.
Harry stared at the piece of paper gracefully wisping against the air to fall on the ground. It was crumpled slightly on where Y/N held it. Tear stains blotted some of the ink, causing it to bleed through. Did he feel guilty? Of course, he did. Harry felt terrible that Y/N had to find out this way, but he cannot lie that he felt relieved because it’s finally over.
He walked to the seating area just after the entryway to the main door. He stood in the middle of the room with the letter tucked away properly in the envelope. Harry guessed that he didn’t have to mail this anymore. He heard her before he saw her, huffing slightly from the heavy bag on her shoulder. Sniffles scrunching up her nose like a cute bunny.
“Y/N, I’m--,” Harry reached out to her, not knowing why he did but seeing her struggle was never a sight he wanted to see.
Y/N stuck the palm of her hand out to him, pausing him in his footsteps, “I never want to see you again. Don’t contact me.”
The shiver crawling up his spine was something that he would never admit. Fear was picking away at his insides but he won’t let it show. Not when Harry was the one that insinuated it in the first place. And he won’t lie, his ego was as bruised as a ripe peach because annoyance immediately filled his body right after.
“Thank God,” He rolled his eyes upwards, placing his hands on his hips, “Took you long enough to realize that I don’t want you around anymore,” The moment the words leave his lips, Harry regretted even thinking about them. It wasn’t exactly the whole truth. He still cared for and he still wanted her around--just not in the way he used to. Maybe they could even be friends but he fucked up that chance when he decided to speak like an asshole to her, especially when he could practically see Y/N holding on to her last thread of not letting the tears fall in front of him.
His ego clawed at his muscled chest, exacerbating everything when he continued, "I'm not in love with you. Don't think I ever was. You're nothing compared to her and you know it. Can't believe I ever dated you,”
Y/N was trying to process his words on top of the emotions that were swirling inside of her. She felt as though her mind was about to explode. It was overwhelming. All these feelings and new information confusing her to the point where she was rendered speechless because didn’t Harry just tell her that he loved her last night? And weren’t they talking about starting a family last Christmas in his childhood home? Anne had even dropped the ‘baby’ bomb during dinner to which Harry blushed and stuttered his words over. Memories flashed before her, yet the only thing that came out of her mouth was a dreary, flat question of, “How long?”
“A year,’
Y/N knew that she had opened a can of worms ready to plague every happy memory she shared with him because a year ago, Harry and she were celebrating their third year together in Italy. A year ago, he promised to stay by her side ‘forever, until the end of time’. Exactly twelve months ago did Harry slow dance with Y/N at a friend’s wedding, drunk off his ass but coherent enough to mumble, ‘Want you to be my wife, Y/N,’ in her ear.
Harry was remorsing it more and more with every word that came out of his mouth. Though, he could not stop because he wanted to get the last word before she left.
“Y’know when I said I wanted a family with you? I lied. I felt sorry for you. No one else is going to want you anyway, so I thought I might try.” He was close to tears himself, his lip pursing tightly because all he ever wanted was a family with her. They had spent so many nights planning where to live if kids came up in the future. Harry can’t give up his facade now, not when suddenly apologizing will make him look like a jerk and an asshole.
“She's pretty y’know? Could’ve never have lived up to that. . . Camille, she's someone I'd want a family with. I'd marry her because she's worthy of me. Who are you in comparison?"
Who was she? Who was Y/N without Harry? Her life was centered around the one man she thought would stick around until her skin wrinkled in old age. Until her voice withered with a shaky plead. Until her arms felt too weak lift and so they had to settled for a simple graze on the hand.
Her shoulders slouched with emotional exertion. She didn’t even notice her fingernails digging into her skin as she pondered over her next words. Staring at him with a wilting confidence as he breathed heavily, daring her to talk back at him. To answer his difficult question fully knowing that Y/N didn’t know the answer to it and Harry has no problem taking full advantage of the way he was put on a pedestal in this relationship with her.
Y/N was trying her hardest to be strong. No way was she going to let Harry see her cry. Harry who has seen her cry many times before due to serious reasons and silly breakdowns because the book she had been reading didn’t end the way she wanted it to. And this relationship wasn’t progressing like how she had envisioned it to.
He was blatantly describing how much he did not appreciate her. Putting her down by attacking her with dreams that she had discussed with him because it was the easiest way for him to dispose of the guilt and sorrow he would’ve been feeling otherwise. Making it seem like it was her fault for not being enough for him when she has always been a match for him. Y/N knew that she was worth something and Harry not seeing how valuable she is doesn’t mean she had lost the ability to see herself as someone worth loving.
Y/N held his gaze, memorizing every speck of gold litter on his irises as she took off her engagement ring, throwing the jewellery at him without a second thought. In a rush of confidence, Y/N raised her arm to retreat behind her and shoot forward with a slapping sound as her palm met his cheek. If Harry taught her anything during their relationship, it would be to ‘treat people with kindness’ and that included herself.
She staggered a few steps back, watching as he stayed unmoving, his cheek reddening with a handprint. Shaking her head, Y/N aimed for the exit, opening the door to leave.
“Wait!”
She was only human to admit that that one word sparkled the light of hope within her. Y/N turned around, gripping the door handle.
“I feel guilty, my love. Please don’t leave, let’s talk about this properly,”
“I’m sorry you feel that way but you’re a liar for making me think that this relationship wasn’t over a year ago when you started cheating on me with her. You’re a coward for not telling me that your feelings have changed and an arrogant son of a bitch to not admit that you’re sorry,” It was her turn to speak now and it was best if Harry stayed put and listened. Perhaps it would even be the last time that he shared this close distance with her.
“I can see it in your eyes, H. I know you. You don’t mean it when you say you didn’t love me because I felt it and you showed me. I just don’t understand why you couldn’t tell me when—” Y/N suddenly clutched her stomach, cupping her hand over her mouth.
Harry’s body moved before he could even think, reaching his arms to steady her as she stumbled slightly. The hinge of the door creaked as she used the momentum to stabilize herself and push him away from her. She coughed harshly, piercing his ears as the dreadful sound scratched her throat. Harry was scared because Y/N wouldn’t let him touch her.
Y/N gagged, racing to the kitchen sink to empty her stomach. Retching sounds filled the otherwise quiet home as Y/N held her hair away from her face. Harry offered to thread his fingers through but she shook her head. He backed away.
Hushed coughs dripped past her lips, her body slouched and panting over the sink.
“Love? Are you okay?” Harry remained his distance, following her body in case she fell. The furrow in his brow warmed Y/N’s heart but she soon realized that caring was in his nature.
The refrigerator door opened, Y/N grabbed a bottle of water, twisting the cap open and putting the opening against her mouth. “Don't touch me. I don’t want you near me. I never want to see you again,” She slammed the half-drunk bottle on the counter, not caring if the water spilled; it’s his mess now.
Harry followed her like a lost puppy, “Where are you going? You can't go out in that state,"
Y/N ignored him, opting to crouch down to pick up the duffle bag she had dropped with a searing glare directed to him.
"Please wait, stay here. You're sick. Y’can't go out, love,”
At the sound of the word ‘love’ leaving his lips, Y/N shuddered. All she can remember was reading the letter addressed to someone else when all this time she thought it was reserved for her. She turned around, gasping in surprise when he abruptly stopped in front of her. Harry’s hands wrapped around her waist to prevent Y/N from falling backwards.
Upon inspection, Harry could see that Y/N was paler than usual. Her eyes decked out with glossiness and he wasn’t sure if it was from the tears she had managed to hold back or from the recent sickness. She pushed him away harshly, heaving all her strength to create distance between them.
“No,” Y/N spoke with grit, “You wanted to leave, right? I’ll make it easier for you—I’m gonna leave first.” Her clumsy nature decided to act up, causing her to stumble down the short steps of the door to the walkway. Harry caught Y/N by the forearm.
Y/N shrugged his warm hand off of her, “Get away from me!” Her shrill voice pierced a knife in his chest. Harry’s lips began to quiver because she has never pushed him away before.
“You'll never speak to me again?"
The door slammed in front of his face in response.
“Hmm, I guess not.”
The driveway is littered by the sound of her engine starting, then driving away. Now, Harry’s alone in the spotless house that Y/N had cleaned all day. He sat on the sofa, fiddling with the ring that Y/N had taken off. He had not let himself fully immerse in the gravity of how much he had hurt Y/N yet. He was about to--but one ring of his phone distracted him.
Harry smiled at the caller ID, swiping his thumb to answer.
“Hi, my love.”
When the relationship ended, Y/N imagined being bed-ridden. A lack of motivation to do anything casual such as standing. Watching the television seemed to be a task that required all of her energy and full-attention to be able to understand the subtitles on the screen. Her friends would knock continuously on her door to be met with no response because she was asleep or Y/N couldn’t be bothered with pitiful conversation asking her if she was okay. She would be too tempted to ask how Harry was doing when she could easily pull out her phone and search his name in a few quick taps. These used to be easy; as easy as breathing and loving Harry was easier than loving herself.
How was he doing? Y/N hoped that Harry was regretting his actions. She was yearning for the vibration of her phone to restart her heart like an AED stuck to her chest, sending her pulses to remember that they were not what they used to be. Or maybe the snippy ringtone Y/N had set specifically for him and only him would ring through the air as she wallowed in a burrito blanket. Frankly too emotionally worn out to even move an inch as she watched her phone face down on the bedside table of her new apartment.
Life doesn’t wait until Y/N is capable of being back on her feet before thundering down with the foundations of living. Five days into the breakup did she realize that the money she had saved up would be spent faster than she can replace it if she stayed any longer at the hotel near the heart of downtown. It was a spur of the moment decision to ‘treat herself’; she thought she deserved it after being called names and thrown aside like a used toy. And on the fifth day, she was on the lookout for places to live in as she adjusted to her new life without Harry.
It wasn’t like Y/N was completely dependent on him. She had a well-paying job; just not as good as his. And she could afford a nice apartment, just not as nice as his mansion. Nor did it have the same toasty feeling that enveloped her when she walked through the doors. Y/N told herself that she would give it a few months; that maybe it was just the change in setting that misplaced every bone in her body because everything she did felt off. Deep down, Y/N knew that things weren’t the same without him. She could either live a life reminiscing how she--they--used to do things or she could change and adapt to this ball thrown at her.
The decision was in her hands, yet she hesitated with every gambling thought crossing her mind. On one hand, she was used to a routine. It was a routine that never got boring to her, solely because Harry found a way to make things interesting; refreshing. On the other, Y/N would be in a never-ending comparison of how much she missed him or pat her shoulders because she was able to compromise the old parts of her that existed when Harry was around and to integrate it with a new version that was wary of anybody getting close to her.
The challenge was not easy when the media got hold of the news. It seemed as if everywhere Y/N went---mixed reactions and judgement attacked her with doe eyes offering the best of luck or disgusted snickers telling that she deserved it and that they--Camille and Harry--were perfect for each other. But when Y/N quite literally was carrying a piece of him and her inside her stomach did she step up to what she had to become to raise her baby.
It seemed like yesterday when Y/N stared at her reflection in the en-suite bathroom of Harry’s home, pinching at a subtle layer of fat that she was sure wasn’t there a few days ago. Bloated cheeks that added a fullness to her face were substituted as the result of a bright smile plastered on her face because she Harry had pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead before she left for work that day. The sudden aversion to fragrant foods she absolutely adored flew right over her head and excused as a bad batch.
And the most painful memory was the day Harry and Y/N’s relationship ended. The beginning of something new, something beautiful was right under their noses. Y/N wondered what could have happened if she didn’t find the letter. When the symptoms of pregnancy became more obvious each day; would Harry notice the change in her physique? The crinkle of her nose when met with a sandwich containing pickles that she used to love?
Y/N couldn’t help but envision holding the stick with a tiny ‘+’ pixelated by dark colours. Sitting on the closed toilet seat as she contemplated delivering the news to him in the early hours of the morning after she was awoken by a flush of morning sickness. Y/N daydreamed about watching his sleeping face smooth out of any lines as he dreamed peacefully and wondered if this was still a part of what he wanted with her. Maybe she would jostle him gently, rousing him with a poke as she kneeled on his side of the bed, flailing the pregnancy test between her fingers until he blinked the sleep out of his waterline. Harry would present her a doozy smile before realizing what she held--to which he would sit up faster than he had ever done, gazing at her with a pleading stare. For Y/N to confirm that yes, she was pregnant. Yes, they were going to have a baby and yes, Harry was going to be a father. A little family in the works.
But that daydream was reeled in like a fishing hook in grave waters as reality grounded her. She was apparently two months into her pregnancy when Y/N had mistaken the sickness as an inevitable reaction to finding out his infidelity. Hearing him say the term of endearment as if he had not used it with another person made Y/N want to grab him by the shoulders to hold a steady contact, jostling him until answers spilled out of his mouth. Answers that Y/N deemed justifiable but was there ever a good excuse for cheating? She wanted to strip him out of the apologies filling his mouth and get straight to the question of why he had done it. But even then, Y/N knew that there was no way she was going to be satisfied with his answers. It was just a matter of her accepting that the idea of ‘what could have been’ would live inside her head because she was the only one that knew about the life inside of her.
Harry had not made an effort to speak to her besides arranging the dates to pick up her things. She had to wear large clothes to hide her growing belly because Y/N wasn’t sure if she even had the right to tell him something so personal anymore. It fit well with the narrative that she was a depressed homebody that craved the touch of his fingertips on her skin, the taste of his lips on her tongue and the weight of his arms around her. Albeit that he was the father, Harry had obviously moved on way before they ended; a little over a year ago now to be precise.
Y/N was almost one-hundred percent sure that Harry had blocked her number. Scratch that, she was certain if the way her messages failed to send were anything to go by. She could handle seeing the handle of ‘read’ on the bottom of a message because at least she’d know that Harry did read it and that he was aware. But watching the encircled, crimson exclamation point appear was just another reminder that he planned to erase four years from his life to start anew.
So what if at four months, Y/N was attending another doctor’s appointment by herself, trying to amount to as little attention as possible? Well, today was the day that she was going to find out the baby’s gender. Her bump was definitely noticeable now and extremely uncomfortable especially sitting on a plastic, grey chair in the waiting room. The device in her hand felt like stone perceiving the icon of blaring red that indicated yet another failed message to the contact previously named ‘My Love’, now to just ‘Harry’.
Y/N: I’m finding out the gender of our baby today
Y/N: I’m hoping for a girl but either way, I just want the baby to be healthy.
“Y/N? Dr. O’Sullivan is ready to see you,” The nurse clad in scrubs walked out with a clipboard gripped in her hands.
Y/N stood up, pausing to retrieve her items. She took a breath before entering the room, catching sight of the doctor in his stereotypical white coat focused on the computer screen that showed her information.
“You know what to do. Good luck today,” The nurse mused, handing her a folded hospital gown to change into as she pointed towards the direction of the room with a little nook to change privately. After struggling a bit with pulling off her top, Y/N tied the strings of the hospital gown.
“Hi, Y/N. How are you today?” He asked, standing up to gather the items he would need. Y/N made herself comfortable on the small bed, the white paper crinkling as her weight shifted.
She sighed deeply, “I’m alright. Really excited, actually,” A grin appeared on her face with just how close she was to find out the gender of the baby, “How about you?”
“Good as always,”
Connor O’Sullivan was the name of the doctor. They met when Y/N was in search of the top-tier family doctor’s around the city and instantly had a connection. He had a trustworthy aura that Y/N deemed acceptable to guide her to a healthy pregnancy. A friendship had definitely blossomed around the doctor-patient boundary but they stayed within their limits. Inside jokes existed but it had never crossed the line. And sure, touches to the shoulder happened once in a while but nothing had escalated further.
Y/N’s baby bump was exposed to the cool room. She shivered when a gloved hand applied the gel on her taut skin. Stretch marks were littering the sides of her tummy. It was itchy and uncomfortable. However, it was tolerable especially after applying a combination of creams and oil to soothe the ache. It was also another reminder that she really was about to become a mother.
“Cold?” Connor teased with an easy smile. Y/N rolled her eyes upwards in response, “You’re the doctor here,”
He chuckled, directing her attention to the small screen beside them. The static fizz of black and white slowly morphing to a more discernible image as he attached the device to her skin, finding the perfect angle to produce a clear picture. The first time Y/N saw her little baby; it was the size of a lemon. The next couple of visits showed progression in their growth; tiny baby feet, stubby legs, and sprouting fingers could be seen on the ultrasound.
They looked more and more like a proper baby now--like the ones one would see in the clinics and Y/N really couldn’t believe that she was about to find out their gender. Y/N couldn’t tell just by inspecting the picture because of her lack of expertise.
“You’re having a. . .” Connor began, edging his voice at the last word. He wiggled his brows as Y/N’s eyes widened.
She balled her fists, “Oh, hell. Just spit it out, C,”
“A girl. You’re having a little girl,” He peered up at the patient, watching tears fill the brim of her waterline as she gasped, palming her slightly open mouth.
“A-a girl?” Y/N craned her head to look at the square image, blurrier because of the tears but beautiful nonetheless. “I can’t believe I’m having a girl,”
The doctor wiped the gel off of her tummy with a cloth, switching off the machine as he waited for another reaction out of her. Y/N tossed her legs to the side, putting on her slip-on vans to fully-comprehend the news. “I’m having a baby girl,”
Connor nodded, releasing an ‘oomph’ at a sudden pressure around his middle. Y/N wrapped her arms around him, feeling the tube of his stethoscope dangling against her cheek. Her lashes fluttered, happy tears streaming out. He returned the gesture with soft rubs on her lower back.
“I’m sorry, I’m so emotional,” Y/N pulled away with a huff, using her fingertips to rub the wetness towards her temple. “I’m so happy but I just wished that he was--,” She cut herself off, pursing her lips as an image of Harry carrying their baby appeared in her head.
“I understand, Y/N.” Connor mirrored her distraught expression as he really did feel sorry for Y/N. However, he couldn’t explain the extra twinge in his heart at seeing her frown over a lost love. “You’re doing great on your own,”
She sighed for possibly the tenth time that day, “We both wanted to name her Halo if it’s a girl or Arlo if it’s a boy. It reminds me of what an angel she will be,”
“Wait until she gets older,” Connor joked to lighten the mood, receiving a glimmer from Y/N. “What d’ya say you get changed and I’ll print out this ultrasound, sounds good? A few more months then we can meet baby Halo,”
Halo.
Harry’s relationship with Camille was a dream. It was everything he imagined, maybe even better. The first time they dabbled on getting together was four years ago, before Y/N was even around in his life. There could be so many things right about a relationship and it could still be wrong. Maybe it wasn’t the right place, the right time, or they simply had too many disagreements and flaws that both parties were unwilling to work it to make them--work.
Usually, the third time would be a charm but Harry felt that he and Camille didn’t need a third time. As he said, the past couple of months felt like a dream. He could close his eyes and still feel the soft skin of the woman he loves grazing his fingertips. He couldn’t help but transpire into a new chapter of their love; one where it wasn’t just them tumbling in the sheets. When the squeals in the kitchen while making breakfast were paired with pleads for whipped cream on their pancakes; a child.
Harry was old enough to know what he wanted--at least, he thought he was--and a family was in his books. He finally found a partner who had the same mindset in their future; Camille. At first, he was absolutely sure that Y/N could not be erased from; but her name wasn't set in stone and once he found someone better--no way in hell was he going to let that be a missed opportunity.
__
Camile sighed softly, laying on Harry's bare chest as he pulled the sheets over their clammy bodies. Their orgasms settled in their veins, the rush and panting breaths calming down with each blink of an eye.
With her finger swirling patterns on his skin, Harry stared at the ceiling in hesitant contemplation, “Babe, have you ever thought of getting off the pill?” She paused.
“Uh, sure, but then we would have to use a condom?” Her voice raised at the end in curiosity.
Harry released an awkward chuckle, gently swivelling her body off of him so he could sit up. Reaching over, his fingers found the flip of the light switch that turned the bedside lamp on. He smiled at her appearance, mirroring his stance as she sat on the bed, a sheet clung around her body.
He shook his head, “No, no. No condoms, no pills and, y’know. . .”
The confusion was evident on Camille’s features, “I don’t exactly understand what you’re trying to say, H--,’
“‘M asking if y’wanna try for a baby, love.’
Silence overtook the room. Harry held his breath in his throat, seemingly trying to swallow down the lump that had formed because of her lack of response. She cleared her throat.
“A baby?” Harry nodded with excitement despite the flat tone whipping past her lips. “I--don’t know how to say this, Harry. I’ve never wanted kids.”
His face fell, the words lingering around his head like a flock of birds. The dizzying epiphany rattled his head clear of any other thoughts besides the fact that there was a hole in his book; burnt and toasted with sparks inkling his skin.
“W-why not?” His palms fell flat on the silky sheets, fisting the fabric to keep him settled. “A mini you and a mini-me running around the house. Won’t that be fun, baby? Don’t you want that?”
It almost hurt Camille to see the grin plastered on his face, hopeful eyes practically begging her to change her mind. But she couldn’t.
“Harry, that part will be fun. What won’t be fun is getting huge, morning sickness, weird cravings, hormonal imbalance, the aftermath of labour, the sleepless nights, the puke, the changing diapers, the back pain, the headaches, the fights when they’re older and so much more” Her accent rippled with each explanation rejecting the idea.
Harry huffed, crossing his arms subconsciously to shield himself, “But it’ll be worth it,”
“It won’t be,” Camille scooted closer to him, situating herself on her knees so that she could look into his eyes clearly. “Look, I made up my mind ages ago and I thought you felt the same since you haven’t settled down yet”
“I was jus’ lookin’ for the right person,” His head dipped down, dropping his gaze their intertwined hands. “It’s gonna’ be okay, Cam. We can make it work. We’ll have our own family. We’ll be okay,”
She shook her head in refusal, “It will be okay for you, H.” Harry could feel her hands itching to slip past his. He held her tighter. He didn’t want to lose her. “You can get back to work immediately. I’m a model and it takes time to lose weight. Even when I do--I won’t look the same. It’ll take me months, if not years to even resemble my present body.
“I don’t care how your body looks. You’re still gonna’ look amazing. You think I won’t love you after birthing our little baby?” With brows pressed together, he pouted his lip in curiosity as she rolled her eyes.
Camille sighed exasperatedly, “I don’t want children, Harry. The sooner you understand that the better. It’s MY body. I’ll be carrying the kid around for 9 months. No thank you.” She stood up, stumbling slightly as the sheets tangled around her feet.
He followed suit. His height towered over her as she crouched down to collect the pieces of clothing strewn around haphazardly in a rush to have each other. “But it’ll be MY baby, Cam. OUR baby, don’t you want that?”
Fingernails dug into the skin of her palm, holding her clothes as she spoke, “I don’t, Harry. Why can’t you just accept that?”
In the heat of the moment, Harry couldn’t help but quell the ache in his chest with a memory he thought he had thrown away, “Because Y/N and I planned to have a family. A-and I thought you and I could have one too,”
Camille huffed, keeping her distance. She walked to the bathroom, “Well, maybe you shouldn’t have fucking cheated on her then,”
His fight with Camille left the both of them on edge, barely able to handle the thick tension surrounding the house. Even though she took refuge in the bedroom and Harry wandered to the kitchen to cool off; it was impossible for them to stay in one place without having another argument.
Harry didn’t mean to let the memory slip past his lip. He hated it when he found himself comparing his past relationships to his current one. He felt that there was no need to do so, especially when the point of all of it was to start anew. Harry guessed that his desire to have a family was too powerful to keep his thoughts in check. The ache bubbling in his chest rose to a boil with each rejection that Camille answered with.
It wasn’t like he didn’t respect her decision. He really did. But Harry didn’t know if he was going to be happy being with her without progressing into something more through the years. What he was asking from her is just as difficult as what she was asking from him. Camille didn’t want to have children and Harry didn’t want to not have kids. There was no room for compromise if they both, mutually, wanted to respect each other's' decisions’ to the absolute fullest. However, the chances of him living a content life were zero to none.
And that was how Harry ended up at a bar, alone, at nine o’clock in the evening. They were invited by his friend, Kora, to a birthday celebration. Harry was reaching the limit of his threshold having to fake a smile and a chuckle while saying, “Camille’s feelin’ a bit sick tonight. ‘S just me,”
The thing with this celebration was that Kora was initially Y/N’s friend. He and Kora had become close friends while he was with Y/N and he guessed that that was the reason why he was invited. Although, it made him wonder why one of Y/N’s best friends invited him when she was aware of what happened between them. Surely, there was no way that Kora would invite Y/N, Harry, and Camille to the same crowded space, would she?
The sudden nervousness swirling at the pit of his stomach came with a quick neck as Harry scanned each premise of the bar. It was difficult considering the dim lighting and endless amounts of heads moving against each other. He hoped to see Y/N; just to see how she was doing! But he also felt like puking the alcohol he consumed because--as much as he wanted to admit it or not--he missed her.
After a half-hour of being vigilant, Harry willed himself to relax by the counter. Leaning one elbow on the wood as he spoke to another person regarding his upcoming album.
‘Yeah, yeah. It’s goin’. ‘M really excited for it cause’ I’ve got a lot of inspiration for some reason,” Harry answered with unyielding precision.
“We both know where that came fro--Oh hi! Sorry, H. Gotta check in on, Johnny,”
He rolled his eyes under closed lids, sipping on his drink, eyeing Kora when he heard a quip of Y/N’s name. Harry inconspicuously moved closer to her, making sure that he didn’t catch her attention.
“You’re not here,” Kora yelled with a whine to her tone. Her drunk self was still coherent enough to embark on the bartender to make another drink for her. However, Harry guessed that her senses were obscured with the way she yelled through the phone despite it being held to her ear and the function tapped to ‘speaker’.
“I know. I’m sorry. I promise to make it up to you, Kora,” Y/N’s gentle chuckle rumbled through the speaker, making Harry smile. It was the first time he heard it in a while. He sometimes wondered if he had the right to feel relieved when Harry was the one that blocked her number in the first place.
“It’s my birthday! Why aren’t you here drinking with us?” Kora quietly thanked the bartender.
Harry’s curiosity spiked; why wasn’t Y/N here tonight?
“It’s because I’m pregnant, silly. Can’t really do that when I’ve got a bubba in my tummy,” Both women giggled, Kora, making a sound of acknowledgement, “Ohhh right!“
He really wished that he would have stuck by long enough to hear more of their conversation but Kora’s boyfriend was approaching her and he wasn’t in the mood to discuss anything if he was honest.
She moved on fast, Harry thought. He was definitely sounding like an entitled jerk. Hear him out though; Harry was happy with Camille. Yes, he had been cheating on Y/N for a whole year and yes, she had to find out through a letter but Y/N was pregnant. Did she really move on that quickly?
Despite the guilt gnawing at her for missing her best friend Kora’s birthday, Y/N was also looking forward to getting some sleep. It was a couple of hours after their phone call together when the nauseating tightening of Y/N’s chest woke again and had been for the past three days.
It was a horrible feeling that spread from the confines of her stomach. The bile rising up from her throat that left a burning feeling from the acids that escaped her mouth as she quickly threw the covers away from her legs, running towards the direction of her bathroom where she emptied the remnants of her stomach from last night’s craving of pickles and hot Cheetos. Her chest heaved with exertion as she draped her arms over the white porcelain of the disinfected toilet, hunching over as her stomach seemingly pumped away toxins.
Y/N wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, visibly shuddering as she pointed a finger to flush the toilet. She had a feeling that she won’t be getting any more sleep despite the time being three o’clock in the morning. Halo was insistent on staying up past normal bedtime hours. Y/N sighed, walking lethargically towards the dresser to retrieve her phone before heading to the living room nearby.
Y/N: You up, doc?
The blue loading bar swooped to the right as Y/N sent a message to Connor. She was at the peak of her pregnancy and her due date was occurring within a few weeks. A lot had changed since the day she found out the gender of her baby. Between the emotional trauma of having been broken up with--the hard-hitting fact was that Y/N was pushed into a direction of pregnancy that wasn’t exactly her ideal path. She pretty much preferred the dream-like sequence of having Harry accompanying her to her ultrasounds.
Just as Y/N was about to delve into another imaginary scenario of Harry sending her cute baby onesies that he would absolutely need to purchase for their little one, the humming of her phone pulled her from drowning in pathetic wishes and desires.
Connor: What’s up, Y/N?
She jutted her lips as she typed out a response. Contemplating whether or not to send the message as Y/N’s thumb hovered over the arrow, she paused to wonder why she was feeling so guilty in texting another man months and antecedent her break up with Harry. He was happy with someone else, yet Y/N felt as if her feet were planted in a puddle of sticky glue; unable to move on from the life she built in her head. Although it hurt to admit that Harry only existed in her memories now, reminiscing the spoken words they have discussed was another stab to her already bruised heart.
Y/N: Halo’s keeping me up again..
Connor: Want me to come over?
To keep you company
The reply was instantaneous and she could not deny the flutter of her heart beating subtly despite the extremities it had endured. And Y/N couldn’t help but notice the jitter of her baby bump morphing a plump bulge where Halo had kicked it as if it was a stamp of approval of the man coming over.
It wasn’t the first time that Connor drove to her place at the brink of dawn to keep her company in case the sickness became too much for Y/N to handle. The first time was simply a desperate action because she was rattled by the sudden spike in dizziness and incoherence of her sickness that Y/N wasn’t confident in herself to handle it alone. Times after that were more for his comfort when Connor said that he would ‘rather be safe than sorry’ while he rubbed his palm up and down her back.
Minutes later, a knock on her door sounded, forcing Y/N to haul her plump body to the comfort of the sofa, pausing the rerun of a television show. She waddled towards the entrance, the fit of her pyjama waistband snuggly wrapping around her mid-belly. A stretch of skin exposed between her bottoms and her tank top.
“Hi, thank you for coming,” Y/N greeted shyly, widening the door to let Connor in as he chuckled, toeing off his shoes by the closet door.
He waved her off, “It’s no problem, really,” Connor assisted her back to her couch, aiding her by letting his hands stabilize in the air in case anything happened.
The moment their bottoms hit the cushions did Y/N realize the gravity of the guilt spiralling in her chest. Connor laughed softly, his back resting on the couch with his right arm resting on the top, fingertips barely brushing over her shoulder. He reached over the coffee table to obtain the bowl of freshly popped popcorn, picking one to munch on but not before looking over at Y/N.
“Want some?”
She snapped out of her daze, cheeks heating profusely at being caught blatantly staring at how Connor fit naturally into her home both physically and metaphorically. He couldn’t have appeared at a better time when Y/N not only needed medical assistance and a support group by her side. However, she asked herself if he could be anything more than a friend. She shook her head ‘no’.
“No thanks. I’m quite full,” Y/N pressed a palm to her belly when a kick halted her breath. ‘Okay maybe a little,” She rolled her eyes, scolding Halo. “She’s a hungry one,”
“I’m gonna pop some more popcorn, kay? Be right back,”
Y/N heaved a sigh, watching Connor’s retrieving figure. Her admiration was cut off by the ringing of her phone.
Harry wasn’t so sober when he opened the door to his car. He wasn’t in his right mind either when he unblocked Y/N’s number and tapped on her name, switching the screen as it rang. He threw his head back against the headrest, biting his lip when the dial tone rang and rang.
“Hello?”
Harry’s breath hitched, losing his voice momentarily before his slowed brain caught up to move his tongue.
“Y/N? It’s Harry,” He spoke quietly, “Don’t hang up. Hear me out,” His ears stretched to pick up the click of a dropped call but he didn’t hear any.
“Heard from Kora that y’were pregnant, yeah? And I was wondering, whose is it?” The venom in his voice dripped. His drunken stupor rendered him unable to grasp reality.
“I’m not answering that,” Y/N’s tone was firm and direct. Harry could imagine her pursing her lips inwards.
“Why not? Scared that y’gonna have to admit that everything you put on was an act? How can y’move on so fast and give me shit about it?” The parking lot was filled with cars yet Harry could see that he was the only one currently occupying one. If there was a better metaphor of feeling alone in a crowded place; then he would love to hear it.
“Are you fucking kidding me, Harry? You cheated on me! You slept with another woman while we were together. You loved another woman while we were together. For an entire year, you lied to me and deceived me,”
“Jus’. . .answer the question,” He pinched his nose bridge, a headache pounding from the bottom of his skull.
“How dare you speak to me this way? You have no right calling me up out of nowhere,” Y/N lowered the volume of her voice, “and asking all these ridiculous questions,”
“S’not ridiculous,”
She gave a smile to Connor who entered the room with a bowl of delicious smelling popcorn. Y/N clutched the phone to her chest. Connor situated his body beside her with a glimmering smile, his mouth twitching as he eyed her bump, “Can I talk to her?” A gentle question breezed past his lips, moving closer when Y/N gave him approval.
The man kneeled down on the floor, leaning his head downwards to speak to Halo, “Hey little one, y’gotta be nice to momma, okay?” His fingers waved when her feet kicked out. Connor looked up to Y/N with a proud smile, “Did you see that? She responded!”
____
Harry felt his heart clench as a new voice filled the speakers. His neurons were fried with each thought firing endlessly, “Who’s that?
“Don’t call me again,”
The dial tone rung in his ears, echoing in the quiet space of his Range Rover.
_____
Pressing the power button for a few seconds, the device turned black and was left on the arm of the couch. The excitement in Connor’s voice brought a dreamy smile to Y/N’s face, chewing on some popcorn. The beating of her heart seemed to double at the sight of him being so thrilled with her baby.
“We can’t wait to see you. I bet you’re gorgeous,” Connor dropped his volume to a whisper to prevent Y/N from hearing, ‘’Like your mom,”
Y/N’s relaxed and comfortable state of mind mindlessly worked her hands to thread the hair on top of Connor’s head. Just like she used to do to Harry. Her expression dimmed at the thought, painting a faint simper when Connor looked at her in surprise before shrugging it off, continuing to talk to her bump. She shivered when a warm pair of lips attached to the skin of her stomach. Gentle pressure planting a kiss as Connor said his goodbyes to baby Halo.
“She’s a smart one, that much I can tell,” He confirmed, moulding his body to the lingering shape he had left behind in his previous position. And Y/N was flustered to say that she might have scooched a little closer to his body, snuggling her head at the junction of his shoulder.
“Can I?” She asked, doe eyes raising a question that would allow them to cross the boundary they had limited themselves to. He nodded reflexively as if he was awaiting this moment. Connor took the initiative to pull Y/N closer to him, subconsciously kissing the top of her head. The scent of the woman’s shampoo wafting through his nose and invading his senses in a sweet smell that he would gladly immerse himself to.
It was the most pleasant feeling for Y/N to completely let go of her former worries about starting anew when Connor was as cozy as a heater. He made Y/N feel safe and secure with his body shielding her and his actions hinting at a subdued attraction he hadn’t fully shown to her.
And Connor was proud of himself for not quite literally freaking out when Y/N smothered her face to his chest as time passed and the sun rays filtered through the blinds as she fell asleep. Her words mumbled in a jumbled mess about how she wished that morning sickness wasn’t called morning sickness.
It wasn’t totally accurate, she complained. She thought that it was a misleading name; catfishing perhaps. He had chuckled in response, tracing his fingers up and down her arm and feeling goosebumps rise on her skin.
The orange hue of the bright star painting the sky lighter and lighter until the pitch-black sight morphed into a mixture of shades that could only be described as beautifully grandiose--just like Y/N’s sleeping face when the sun casts a shadow to highlight her nose, scrunching with the slight graze of the back of Connor’s finger rubbing the tip. Or the way the luminescence caressed the apples of her cheeks where her lashes rested, mouth puffing breaths of air as she allowed herself to be vulnerable for the first time in months.
____
A heavy feeling had settled into Harry's chest after Y/N hung up the phone. The new voice he had heard had unmistakably been a man's. Who was he? Was Y/N having that man's baby?
Before he could help it, Harry was seething. He saw red, and if he were in a children's movie there would be steam coming out of his ears right about now. How dare she move on so fast? How could she have a baby with another man so soon? But when he thought about it; Harry couldn't even recall how long it had been since they'd broken up. It made him feel somewhat guilty. He hadn't meant to forget her. It had just happened.
His guilt soon manifested into frustration-- her being pregnant was a constant reminder that she had moved on with another man. Insecurity clawed at his insides- did he really mean that little to her? 'You cheated on her' his conscience pricked, but he brushed away the thought. He hated being reminded of his infidelity to his fiancée.
His defence mechanism kicked in like clockwork, using aggression to shield his insecurities. He opened his messages app and clicked her contact, typing drunkenly.
Harry: 'Your a whore'
'You're*'
'Diid yu cheat on me? I bet youu did'
'Do u sleepp arond a loot?'
'fck u'
He smiled smugly at his phone screen, satisfied with what he had sent her. He shut his phone off, and started his car, ready to drive back home. He knew he was being irresponsible, but between his current girlfriend not wanting a child and his ex being pregnant with one; he couldn't bring himself to care. He drove himself home, only to find a terribly worried Camille waiting for him to arrive.
He glanced at the huge clock on the wall behind her. 1:32 am. He shrugged his shoulders and brushed past her to their bedroom. In his drunken gait, he knocked over a metal tray. The loud 'clang' made him hiss and clutch his temples, a headache pounding in his skull.
Camille sighed and made her way over to him, wrapping her arms around his torso and muttering a "come here, H" Despite his sour mood, he found himself craving affection. What he wouldn't admit was that he didn't crave Camille's affection in particular. He just wanted to be held and feel safe in someone's arms. Anyone's arms. But despite himself, he mumbled, "m'sorry I left like tha'. Should'nt 've spoken to ya that way,"
She nodded, pressing a kiss to his cheek, "It's okay, Harry, you're back home now. C'mon, let's get you changed and then let's sleep."
He bobbed his head up and down, willingly letting her drag him up the stairs to their shared bedroom, "Love ya,” Camille helped him out of his trousers.
She smiled softly, "Love you too, mon Cheri,” He giggled drunkenly at the showcase of her accent.
Harry woke up with a pounding headache, whining as his alarm rang at eight am in the morning. He opened his eyes to see that Camille wasn't in bed with him. His lips fell into a pout because of waking up alone.
There was a note on the bedside table.
'got called in for an emergency meeting for the show next week. be home by 5pm. love you!'
He sighed and reached for the glass of water she had left him. His brows furrowed when he didn't see Ibuprofen next to the water. Y/N left him ibuprofen beside the glass of water. Always. Harry snapped himself out of his daze, reprimanding himself for even thinking about her. Why is he thinking about her?
__
After a hot shower, Harry made his way downstairs to make himself breakfast. 'Eggs and toast', he thought. Placing 2 eggs in water and setting it on the stove before loading the toaster. He looked mindlessly through the drinks in the fridge, settling on 'Organic Orange Juice'. Y/N had introduced him to this particular brand after he had complained that all the others had too much sugar to be 'healthy'.
"This has no added sugar, H," she mentioned, "They sweeten it with honey."
Harry groaned, snapping himself out of the daydream, ashamed for thinking about his ex. Again.
He placed his breakfast on a plate and poured himself a glass of juice, sitting at the dining table alone. He chewed slowly with a mouthful as he unlocked his phone, beginning to go through his notifications.
Camille sent him a text. It was a selfie of her at her meeting, smiling and holding up a peace sign. He mirrored the expression, sending a tet back
Harry: "stop being so cute"
He clicked the ‘back’ icon.
The second he does, his heart positively skips a beat. Not in a good way, either. Y/N's contact was just below Camille's, suddenly remembering the nasty things he had texted her the previous night.
"Fuck," He whispered under his breath, opening her contact. 'Read' was plastered under the messages he had sent. Y/N had seen them.
____
Connor had left a few hours later because he had morning rounds at the clinic the next day. Y/N had bid him goodbye with a shy kiss to the corner of his mouth,
“Thanks for coming, C,"
He smiled and pulled her into an embrace "Anytime, angel," into her hair. A warmth spread through her chest--one that she hadn’t felt in a long while.
After Connor drove off (with a final wave from his car window, of course), Y/N walked back in to settle on her couch again. Halo kicked a few times as she sat down, making Y/N squirm and giggle.
"Hi, you little goose! What's got you all excited, hm?" She rubbed over the area where Y/N felt the kick. As if, in response to her mother's voice, baby Halo kicked out again, right where Y/N's palm was. "Are you trying to high-five me, precious girl?"
Y/N cooed at her swelling tummy, a huge smile plastered across her face. "Or are ya just excited about Connor coming over to spend time with us? Got a good feeling about him, have you?"
She feels a gentle kick, it was almost as if the baby in her tummy wanted to say 'yes'. Y/Nhummed softly, caressing her tummy, "Me too, angel. I've got a good feeling about him, too."
___
A few minutes later, Y/N reboots her phone her previously switched off phone so that she could see if Connor had texted her. He had.
C: Thanks for letting me spend time with you and Halo tonight. I loved it. I have a bit of time off on Sunday, do you want to get Pizza?'
Her eyes gleamed, but she hesitated for just a second. Connor had texted her. But so had Harry. He had sent her five messages, and Y/N wasn't sure if she wanted to see what he had to say.
She wanted to make sure before texting Connor back. Y/N was not sure what she was expecting or hoping for, but what she saw was certainly not it.
Harry: 'Your a whore'
'You're*',
'Diid yu cheat on me? I bet you did
'Do u sleepp arond a loot?'
'fck you'
She felt tears stinging her eyes, cursing at the pregnancy hormones that have gotten her feeling this emotional about drunk texts from her ex. Her body ignited with fury quicker than she realized she could. Y/N doesn't hesitate to click the 'block' button to his contact.
She didn't need a man like him around her or her baby. Or her potential boyfriend.
Y/N: 'Hiya!,'
'it was great having you over, and I'd love to hang out! Down for pizza anytime. Halo loves it too :P'
The reply was instantaneous
C: 'Great!'
'See you Sunday, then! What are your favourite toppings?"
Y/N smiled brightly, finding his curiosity incredibly endearing. She typed back a response, gleaming with joy at the fact that she finally had someone she could rely on.
____
"Fuck. fuck fuck fuck," Harry repeated, clicking the call button to Y/N's contact. He needed to apologize. Desperately. He needed her to know that he didn't mean any of those things; he was just drunk. Not that that was an excuse.
'The number you are trying to reach is not in service', an automated voice said.
Harry groaned in frustration, opening her message contact, typing out;
Harry: "I'm so sorry, I don't know what had gotten into me. I was drunk. I'm very sorry, Y/N xx H."
He took a bite out of his toast before looking back at his screen to see if she had read the message yet. He almost wished he hadn't. Harry’s heart plummeted. His chest constricted as tears stung at the back of his eyes. Throwing up the meal he just scarfed sounded like an option right now.
A flaming red exclamation mark met his startled glance, and his chest heaved as he read,
'Not delivered,'
A writer that cannot write is dead.
When one loses the ability to tell their stories and anecdotes through the mere action of swirling words together to create an imaginable atmosphere of real-world fantasy; they are dead. A writer recovering from the mundane and mediocre way of penning experiences to bounce back into what they used to be is difficult. It is easier to free fall and drown in the depths of despair. The moment thoughts and rumination fog up to form a blurry image of conviction is a warning sign, blaring at the back of their minds and sometimes even in their faces.
Harry is a writer--or, he was. Picking up the pen to style the words lingering in his head used to be as easy as blinking; quick and natural. Now, the words claw at the swell of his throat, trying to spit an adjective to describe the way he felt. It was at the tip of his tongue, waiting to be lathed into existence. It did not matter if his cognition was mingled with various chemicals aimed to be able to feel happiness.
He was sober but he had trouble placing his finger on why it was so strenuous to narrate his feelings throughout the breakup. Being high or drunk was never the answer for him. Weed made him tired and made him have a case of cottonmouth. Harry learned from a young age that he should only ever engage with alcohol if he was in a mindset and setting that catered to increase existing good vibes. He thought that maybe he was in an odd phase of perceiving the opposite, and so he intoxicated himself enough to understand that it didn’t matter if he was soaked head-to-toe in sobriety or whizzed out of his mind by the amber liquid swirling in the glass in his hand. But that wasn’t the circumstance. It also didn’t matter if he was grasping his favourite pen to write--because it was comfortable--or tapping his calloused thumbs against his phone keypad. Hell, it didn’t make a difference when he sat down and prepared his typewriter to indulge in a headspace of vintage songwriting. Maybe that would help.
It didn’t.
He had stories to tell. Everything was laid out in misty overcast yet Harry’s great ideas morphed into gentle mistakes, harsh mistakes and discoveries that had him almost ripping his hair out of the roots of his scalp. When he felt the wave of his ocean-thoughts rise and peek where the sand shifted, his fingers were ready to move and discern for the eyes to see. But with each fritter, he couldn’t seem to get even two paragraphs in to decide that it was utter shit.
Harry was old enough to understand that slumping on the wet sand was a part of life. Sometimes picking up a fistful of grains and throwing them back to the sea was a great way to release frustration. But it seemed like this plunge of his ability to write was a hole of quicksand. He was trying his hardest to displace himself as swiftly as possible but it only made his scenario worse. The muddy sand clung unto his legs like sticky glue, heftier with each effort to leave. He wanted to move on. He wanted to forget everything that occurred in the past four years. Harry wanted to erase Y/N from his life because she wasn’t around anymore to bring those memories back to sparkly existence.
What he needed to do was nestle himself into a certain depth, calmly, in order to pull a limb out and ensure that his progress on the so-called ‘moving on’ did not have any drawbacks. Until then, he cannot possibly create songs that he was well-known for if he wasn’t patient enough.
He wanted so badly to tell his side of the story. Harry craved to think as clearly as he did when he told Y/N about his plan for their future. Admitting to his feelings was a hard route. Sure, he can be vulnerable but it took a great deal of convincing on his part to immerse himself in the deepest parts of his brain to understand why he felt the way he did. He usually had the means of songwriting to help him out but that obviously wasn’t working out that good for him.
___
Harry was packing the rest of Y/N’s things in boxes to be picked up later in the afternoon. He was annoyed at first at how she depended on him to fold her clothes properly instead of doing the bundle of the work herself. But he guessed that she didn’t want to be around him for longer than she had to. To be frank, he also did not want to indulge in what might turn into an argument if they spoke about the reason for their breakup. It was just a bit confusing because he had an urge to still want her around despite their less than likely situation.
Torture. If Harry had one chance to describe the way he felt right now; it was torture. With every nook of Y/N’s side of the closet emptying into brown, cardboard boxes--he physically how much she had integrated her life with his. How much space she took up in his life. How his clothes and her clothes were so interchanged between them that he couldn’t decide if the gray pull-over was actually his or hers. And in a moment of selfishness did he tuck it away for his safe-keeping despite seeing the tag imprinted on the inside; a shop that he hadn’t set foot in so it was a guarantee that it was hers.
Her scent embedded in the thin threads of each fabric wafted to his nose; each with a new wave of memories engulfing his senses as if each piece garnered a specific scent tailored to a specific event. Like her sunflower sundress--it smelled of fresh flowers as if the print was a scratch and sniff that released a fragrance. Or their DIY-ed tie-dye shirt of pastel blue and cotton candy pink. It was a matching piece made out of the cheap dye and a simple white tee but it was theirs. Things like these made Harry want to yell in frustration because every time he thought that he was completely over her-- Y/N appears out of visibly nowhere and towers over him.
Seeing her for the first time in days was a breath of relief. She looked fine. Glowing even, and Harry did not know what to make of it. As sadistic as it sounded, he was expecting dry-stained tears and a birds’ nest of hair trampling her head. Instead, Y/N was dressed for comfort in her baggy jeans and an even looser sweater covering her body. Her lips were drawn in a thin line, giving him a nod in greeting as he gestured to the boxes littering the floor.
Harry offered to help--it was the least he could do. And somehow, silence protruded from the tense atmosphere, begging to be cut by a knife yielded through their voices nipping at each others’ emotions.
“Let go of my damn hand,” Y/N stated, her hard stare could turn Harry into stone. He just wanted her to listen before she left.
He shook his head in denial of her request, tightening his grip further. “No. Listen to me, Y/N,”
“What do you possibly have to say that will change anything between us?”
And maybe it was her fault for assuming that he wanted to fix things. The sliver of hope thinly dressed behind closed lids enabled her to think that maybe he was going to say that he wanted to make things work again. That he had broken up with Camille and he realized what a stupid he had done throwing away everything they built up to for the past four years for an affair that couldn’t quench the thirst of his desire to have a family.
Harry sighed, a shadow of mischievous smirk painted on his lips. But maybe it was Y/N’s sight in deception because she could never see Harry as anything other than sweet and kind Harry incapable of hurting a fly.
“What? I don’t intend to. We’re broken. We’re beyond fixing,”
The hitch in her breath was as sharp as the stare he was searing her with. Forcing her to please understand that this would be their last conversation--if time and fate were on their side. “You’re not something I would take the time to handle,”
“Stop saying shit you don’t mean, Harry” Y/N rolled her eyes in annoyance. His macho act was barely an act and more like a stage curtain easily pushed with a flick of a wrist.
“Things I don’t mean?”
“You heard me,” She crossed her arms over his chest in defence, leaning against the closed trunk. “Say what you will but our love was real. Don’t make me seem like I’m crazy. Don’t tell me that I’m a mistake,” Her voice was filled with confidence because she knew the affection that Harry diffused.
The cradles of his palm at the small of her back when they had to walk past a crowd. The subtle graze of the back of his fingers caressing the bare skin of her arm. Kisses pressed to her temple as she read a novel and swirling fingertips twirling her hair. These were acts of love that happened nearly every day in their relationship. A routine that felt different if it wasn’t done to or with each other.
Exasperatedly, Harry felt the same itching crawling up his spine. His ego ballooning into a delicate size and one more word from Y/N’s lush lips would have him on his hands and knees, begging for her back.
“This, us, was a fuckin’ mistake,” Harry’s accent thunked heavily in her cochlea, practically spitting the words out of his mouth as if they were poisonous. Ringed fingers gesticulated the space between them to emphasize how much of a misunderstanding they truly were. “I should’ve known the second things went further than planned,”
Y/N felt her heart drop to her full stomach. The feeling so nauseating that she instinctively palmed her belly over the fabric to protect her little baby from his harsh words. Even though they weren’t directed towards anyone but Y/N. She didn’t think that their unborn child deserved scrutiny from their own father.
“You don’t mean that, Harry.”
Because how could he? Not when he emulated sincerity through his syrupy voice. Not when he spent hours loving on her tummy and spoke to it like he would if she were pregnant. Especially not when every kiss from him felt like a buzz of electricity coursing through her veins because he was the main distributor of her happiness.
Harry truly was an asshole for making her hope and wonder of what the future held when he was unsure himself. He did want a family. That was a statement in all its truthfulness. What he wasn’t sure about was if he wanted a family with Y/N. He could have a family; kids of his own in his own time. But Y/N didn’t have to necessarily be the mother. So was he besotted with the concept of family and marriage regardless of who it was with?
“But I do,”
The rain started drizzling in frequent spurts, planting a fat droplet on her cheek that could be argued as a tear escaping Y/N’s eye. It hurt a lot to hear that from him. The man of her dreams blatantly denying each sugary word because his plans had changed.
“You’re a goddamn mistake is what you are,’
“Why are you. . .saying all these things to me? Are you trying to hurt me?” The shakiness of Y/N’s tone had Harry swallowing his words down his strep throat.
He shook his head in disagreement, “No, I’m not. ‘M just tryna make you see my side. So you can understand,” His head dipped to the side, softening his tone yet stern as though he was speaking to a child.
And that was one of the reasons why Y/N didn’t believe his all-too stoic demeanour about her. Harry was great at making others see his side regardless of how much in the wrong he was.
So why was he struggling?
___
Needless to say, he wasn’t very respectful towards Y/N any other time afterwards. He had unblocked her number months after blocking it at one point and demanded answers that he didn’t have the right to know. In retrospect, Harry was embarrassed by the way he acted. He did cheat on her and suddenly he was a saint because she moved on quicker than he thought she would? Unbelievable.
In his defence, the night he became the drunk caller was the same night he fought with Camille about having children; having a family they can call their own. Ever since that discussion did Harry notice a dispatch in their relationship. It was like they were aware of a missing link that had disappeared in their connection, but neither one of them wanted to be the one to bring it up. Harry supposed that now that Camille knew what he wanted (and vice versa)--she was feeling the pressure of giving in to him. Don’t get him wrong, Harry absolutely wanted a family and he thought that Camille was the right partner to build it with. However, he couldn’t help the voice at the back of his mind slyly whispering that he had forced her to give him what he wanted for the sake of saving their failing relationship.
It had been two and a half years since he mildly and miserably accepted that his dream family was being erased like a pencil on paper.
The first year; Harry still clung to the obscure hope that Camille might change her mind of having kids. Many fights sprouted between the two of them concluding in them sleeping at different places for weeks on end until they eventually crawled back to each other like an invisible string. The second-year; Harry brought up the idea of adoption. It was a hard choice for him as he desperately wanted kids of his own. A boy that looked like him and his love or a little girl that smiled at him with deep dimples mirroring his own.
And Harry liked to think that he was just on the edge of convincing Camille to consider the option when his tour was scheduled a few months after. A new dealbreaker was that Harry wasn’t going to be around much to watch and nurture the little bub they might’ve adopted. It was a sudden intrusion to think about since Harry was good with kids. He knew that. That was why he had three godchildren of his own. But what hit him the most was how sure Camille sounded when she yelled at him about leaving for months at a time and returning for a bit, only to leave again. Now, Harry hadn’t considered that part. But surely he will be ready to choose between a family and his career, right? When the time comes, he thought.
It pained Harry to admit that his relationship with Camille was dwindling down the drain. The knowledge that there was no future--the one that Harry envisioned--for them was getting more and more real each passing day.
A late-night grocery trip was one of the many examples that had Harry rethinking his actions for the past couple of years. It was the time period where night owls arose and barely any customers littered the aisles. Still, Harry made sure to keep his hoodie up to shield his face.
Camille had an early flight to Milan in just a few hours later that day and she wanted to purchase some things to bring with her; in case they weren’t available in the country. So here they were at three in the morning.
As Camille walked ahead of him in her sweatpants and a plain tee, Harry couldn’t help but let his eyes flicker to the clothing section to his right The first-floor space was decorated with pastel blues and pinks; a stroller was displayed with a price would not make a dent in Harry’s bank account.
“‘M just gonna grab somethin’ over here, Cam,” Harry muttered as he pointed a thumb behind him. She nodded, “Meet me at the produce? Need to get you some fruits,”
Harry felt guilt thudding his chest because although he was losing feelings he thought were written in stone, Camille appeared to care for him the same way she always had.
He walked to the brightly lit area, puffing his cheek as a cute onesie caught his eye, “You’re so golden” with the word ‘golden’ printed in a shiny, yellow glimmer. He smiled at the thought of baby angel cooing at him as he tickled her tummy. Harry passed by the shoes next, picking up a pair barely the size of his palm. His mind flashed back to a conversation with Y/N years ago,
“I’m just saying,” Y/N took a bite of a pickle she held on her left hand, “Baby shoes have no business being that expensive,”
Harry chuckled from his place across the counter, “Babies need shoes too, love,’
She grabbed her fork and stabbed a piece of strawberry from her bowl, “I didn’t say the don’t need shoes. For tiny things, they could at least be a bit cheaper,”
Harry watched as she munched on a pickle on her left and took a bite of a strawberry on the other. His tongue poked out in a gag at the odd combination, resorting in glare and a huff from Y/N.
“You should try it instead of judging me,’
“No, thank you. Watching you eat it is enough for me,’
Harry craned his head at each aisle, hoping to find Camille and to distract himself from the endless Y/N related thoughts that somehow returned to his brain. He needed his girlfriend to remind him that he cannot just knock on Y/N’s door and ask her about the baby she has. If he could hold them for a bit because his baby fever was through the roof.
Locating the produce section, Harry whistled mindlessly as he searched for a blonde head of hair, failing to notice that there was a basket in front of his feet. He had kicked it, jolting him out of his thoughts in a hurry.
A man with brown hair sporting an outfit similar to his (sweats and a hoodie), chuckled at him as Harry leaned down to retrieve the gray basket filled with a jar of pickles.
“Sorry man,” Harry muttered, holding the handles up for the man to carry.
“It’s alright, it happens,” The guy had not seen his face yet, too busy inspecting the carton of strawberries.
He decided to continue the conversation, “Strawberries and pickles? Odd combo, huh,” Harry was briefly reminded of Y/N’s obsession with the two rival products.
“Yeah, m’lady loves ‘em. Had a craving in the middle of the night. She’s in the car right now with our lil bubba,”
Harry’s heart fluttered at the mention of a baby. He needed to get his rails in check. He cannot keep having his heart bursting with adoration at the mere mention of a baby.
“I’m Connor,” He said, finally facing Harry after choosing the best carton.
“I'm--,”
“Harry!” Both men turned their heads towards Camille carrying a basket full fruits and green veggies, “Got you some stuff to blend for your smoothies,”
Connor squinted his eyes at the couple and Harry internally screamed because he knew that he and Camille had been recognized. “Harry. Yeah, I know you,” The sudden hostility made Harry confused as Connor grasped his basket from him in a harsh manner, heading towards the checkout.
The rest of the time inside the store was filled with curiosities as Harry carried the paper bags towards the car, barely recognizing Connor’s figure heading towards his own vehicle. Luckily, Harry has parked only a few slots away and could inconspicuously watch Connor and his so-called ‘lady’.
Except, Camille was ushering him to hurry up as she still had a few things to pack at home.
On most days, Harry was used to waking up alone. Used to feeling the shiver crawling up his side, used to seeing the indent left by Camille’s body instead of her. He had grown familiar with the sudden cast of loneliness blanketing him thicker than the duvet on top of his body.
The early morning trip to the store had tired him out, paired with the overthinking of the man named ‘Connor’ that flipped his attitude towards him quicker than he could kick the grey basket with his feet. He flopped back to the mattress after washing his face and brushing his teeth. It was noon when he jolted out of bed again at the sound of his front door opening, voices filling the empty space that had Harry running towards the foyer in case there was an intruder.
His tense shoulders sagged in relief when he caught sight of his mum and Gemma, “Oh, s’just you guys,”
Both women looked up at him at the top of the stairs, “You forgot we were coming over for the weekend, didn’t you?” Gemma teased as she headed to the living room. Harry followed, walking down the stairs.
He scratched the nape of his neck nervously, “No. . . “
“Can you help me reach this, H?” Anne called out from the kitchen.
His mum gave him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, “Yes, you did, by the way. Slept through the whole morning. Good thing Camille let us in before she left,”
At the sound of a bag crumpling and squeals echoing the hollow house, Harry scrunched his nose in curiosity, briskly walking where Gemm was currently holding up tiny baby clothes in front of her. “Who’s that for?” He thought of any possible friends that had had a baby recently but couldn’t recall any.
She immediately stuffed the clothing into the bag, nervously placing a hand on her chest, “Gosh, Harry, you scared me,” Her brows went high on her forehead in alarm, sharing a look with her mum trailing behind Harry.
“Well? Did I miss something?”
“Oh, it’s for one of my friends,”
Harry contemplated on his next words, “D-did you know that Y/N had a baby?” It couldn’t be right if his sister and mum knew about his exes baby and not him, right? That’s just plain odd to still be in touch with an ex's family. His brows furrowed in suspicion as both of them declined his question.
“What? Nooo,”
Awkward silence filtered through the air as Anne sipped water from her mug and Harry was slowly putting the pieces together. Gemme dove to the centre of the couch where her phone was when it rang suddenly, surprising all three of them. Harry was quicker, eyeing his mum and sister and inspecting the emoji substituting as a name before sliding his thumb to answer it.
"Hey, Gems! Are you coming to the park? We're waiting for you,”
Harry felt his heart drop to his stomach just as the phone nearly slipped from his clutch. That voice. He could recognize it from everywhere having spent nearly every morning for the four years that they were together hearing it lulling him out of sleep. It was Y/N’s voice calling his sister who was looking extremely anxious.
He tapped on the ‘mute’ button, “What does she mean ‘we’?”
“Nothing! Give me my phone back,” Gemma tried to reach for the device but Harry held it high beyond her reach.
“I saw the picture you sent me. I told you that you and Anne didn’t have to get me anything,” Harry felt dizzy. “Connor and I got some things a few weeks ago. But that skirt is so adorable!”
One part of him was glad to hear her voice. In fact, Harry found himself smiling too, despite what he just heard. Connor. “Harry, won’t be there right? Hello? Have I been talking to myself this whole time,” Y/N laughed a little; she had a habit of talking endlessly when she was excited. It made Harry more sombre, letting his guards down and his arm in reach for Gemma to grasp.
“Hey! I'm just organizing the clothes, see you soon!" Gemma jammed her finger on the red end call, anxiously glancing at her brother, piecing everything together.
“Who's Connor?" Could it be that the Connor he met last night was the same as Y/N’s? The one who bought pickles and strawberries--one of Y/N favourite food combinations? He mentioned that he had a little girl and Y/N just called to meet his sister and his mum at the park. And baby clothes?
Anne and Gemma looked at each other, quickly deciding that for the benefit of Harry that they should tell him at least a little bit. He was looking as if he was going insane, especially with his bed head pointing his hair out in different directions.
“He’s Y/N’s partner”
Harry gulped, reeling his thoughts to a halt, “Partner? And the baby is...?” The last bit of confirmation was all he needed to lash his feelings out.
“Is... waiting for us at the park! Sorry H gotta go,” Gemma was swift enough to gather all the bags without having Harry chase after her. His state of confusion and shock was enough to render him partially speechless and immobile.
“Hey wait!”
Anne garnered his attention, “Oh, Mrs. Q from next door wants me over for dinner. I’m sure wants to see us both. Why don’t you get ready, Harry?” Anne tugged his arm in the direction of the staircase pushing him to stumble up a couple of steps.
Harry was confused. He made the sounds of his footsteps creeping up the wooden stairs, hearing his mum quietly talking to Gemma on the phone, “Elmsway Park, you said? How long till you're home? I’m not sure how long I can keep him occupied,”
With that being said, Harry was out of his house, silently unlocking and locking the door. He was dressed in some basketball shorts and a graphic tee, slipping on the first pair of sneakers he had tossed aside. Harry jogged to his car, typing in the name of the park on his phones’ GPS. The route was only a few minutes away so he decided to take his time, gathering his scattered thoughts along the way.
He parked just beside the playground scouting the trees around the premises. Harry decided that it was the perfect day. The sun was out. It wasn’t too humid and the birds were chirping on the branches. He could see why the playground was full of children running around in delight. The green patches of grass were partially filled with picnic blankets and food to be shared. Families laughed with each other as one in particular caught his eye.
It made him smile at first, seeing just how adorable the couple was with their baby. He exited the car, making sure to lock the vehicle. With his hands jammed deep in the pockets of his shorts, Harry could feel the tethered grass rubbing against his legs. As he got closer, he couldn’t help the twinge of familiarity spark in his chest, recognizing that what he was staring at was Connor playfully chasing a little girl of about two-years-old as she squealed at how close he was getting to tagging her.
Harry stood by a tree, shielding him away from view. He tried to appear invisible without seeming too creepy. He knew that it was only a matter of seconds before his eyes found the woman he had been missing, whether he wanted to admit it or not.
Connor picked up the little girl in his arms, dotting pecks all over the girls’ cheeks, causing her to giggle and push his face away with a tiny palm. And there she was standing outside the raised platform of the playground, coming up to the both of them with a juice box in hand to hydrate the little angel. Connor turned his attention to Y/N, planting the most adoring kiss on her lips that made her smile so wide and the baby cover her eyes. They laughed together, looking like a picture-perfect family.
Gemma sat on the bench, flickering her gaze to the precious family in front of her and to the figure of her brother walking away from the scene. Her heart broke for Harry, and it cracked, even more, when he turned back. This time, watching Connor and Y/N cheer on baby angel to go down the slide. Both of them clapped their hands in enthusiasm as the girl hesitantly slid down the plastic slide. The smile on her face was infectious.
It almost made Harry smile, too.
Harry was crying.
Admitting his feelings when he was younger was quite a task for him. Now that he was nearly in his thirties, the journey of being vulnerable with himself and with his feelings became easier with each emotion that he permitted himself to submerge in. Harry validated those emotions--he was allowed to experience them because it makes him human. It added texture to the ever-growing mosaic that painted who he was as an individual. Adding to the people that surrounded him, influenced by their kind-nature and the goodness of their heart to become who he was now.
And now, it seemed like his emotions increased tenfold. The clench of his abdomen and the harsh jolt of his chest forced his slouched shoulder to stay deflated. His breathing hitched as sobs threatened to take over, throat sore with the effort to keep it all in because Harry was smart enough to know that these emotions coursing through him right now were ones he wasn’t validated to feel. Paired with the latest information that that little girl being held by another man was his own daughter--and that the woman who was glowing with her caring, motherly-instincts was supposed to be his family; it broke him completely.
Quaking thoughts circled his brain and punctured his muscles as if they were attacking him not only mentally, but physically as well in exchange for his past mistakes that he couldn’t quite place if he deeply regretted or not. Was it a mistake to cheat on Y/N? To leave her alone in the exposure of the public eye while she was carrying his child in her tummy?
Harry should have known the day she fell sick and vomited in their kitchen sink. He was, sadly, too busy throwing a subdued celebration of finally having time alone with Camille. He should have noticed the way her face brightened with radiance. Or the way her cravings for strawberries and pickles either grossed her out or completely compelled her to consume more than she usually would.
But Harry guessed that that was around the time his efforts went out the window because he didn’t have to pretend to care as much anymore. Camille appeared to be his one and only. With their relationship coming so close to being revealed and Y/N having one foot out the door, Harry let fate play out the rest. Don’t get him wrong, Harry still loved Camille; that was why his slashed heart still throbbed at the sight of her watching over her little cousin, yet knowing that the topic of children was still not a card on the table.
The distress that he was feeling right now was core-shredding, heartbreaking grief that left a hole in his heart. The worst part was that Harry didn’t exactly know how to fix it or whether he even could. As he walked to his car with hands jammed into his pockets, he was grateful that the hood of his sweater hid his face and the tears sliding down the slope of his cheeks.
His senses were in overdrive, figuring out how to fix the mess he created. Wanting to run up to Y/N and ask her why she didn’t tell him, needing to feel his little girl in his arms. Pinching his skin to transfer the pain he felt in his heart because of the thought that he missed his baby’s first words, her first steps. Was it ‘dada’ that babbled out of her mouth? Did she reach out for Connor when she stumbled over nothing when she walked on stubby legs? Did Y/N mention his name to her?
“Harry!”
He kept on walking despite the hushed call of his name, assuming that it was a fan that caught sight of him and wanted a picture. Harry adores them, but now is hardly the time to fake a smile or act like his life didn’t just flash right before his eyes--quite literally.
The vehicle beeped as Harry pressed the ‘unlock’ button on his key fob, just about ready to pull the door open and shield himself from prying eyes. He flinched when a hand fell on his shoulder, “Harry,”
He looked up to find Gemma panting, resting her hand on the roof of the car, “Are you. . .alright?” Her drifting eyes inspected his face, tinted a slight pink and moist with the salty liquid dripping from his tear ducts.
Huffing in annoyance, Harry clutched the handle to let himself in. Gemma followed his actions, shutting the door and locking it. The tinted windows of the car provided a semi-private enclosure that was filled with Harry’s sniffling and Gemma’s heavy breathing, trying to catch her breath.
“H-her name is Halo,” Gemma began, gulping when Harry paused his ministrations, straining his ears to listen despite the dull thud occupying his vessels. “She’s almost two years old,”
“You said you didn’t know,” Harry’s gruff tone echoed. Gemma anxiously rubbed the ends of her palms against her jeans. “Why didn’t you tell me? You knew all this time and y’didn’t tell me,”
“I-I was--she didn’t want me--”
“Why would she tell you and not me? I’m the one that dated her,” He raised his voice with every syllable he spoke. The frustration he felt from seeing the woman he once loved living the reality they shared together, except he wasn’t anywhere in the picture and that reality was only a fantasy in his life now. “It doesn’t make sense,” He rested his forearms on the wheel, facing the car’s symbol.
“The baby is yours, Harry,”
His head quipped with speed, grazing his forehead on the rounded leather but that pain didn’t amount to the new wave washing over him. “W-what?”
“It’s really not my place to tell,” Gemma said nervously, making eye contact with Harry’s searing yet teary gaze. “She wanted to tell you but you were so happy with Camille. She was posting these things on her Instagram about your trips and Y/N called me crying because you looked so free and happy without her. Y/N didn’t want to ruin what you guys had by dropping this on you,”
"That's-that's my baby?" Harry stuttered over his words while tugging his head out of his memories. Gemma nodded in confirmation. “Then why in the world was she--Halo?--calling him ‘dada’?
“Look, Harry, you’re not stupid. You know why Halo called Connor her dad,” Gemma spoke slowly, “This is a conversation that you need to have with Y/N if she lets you,”
At the mention of the man’s name, Harry couldn’t help but be filled with anger. He barely knew this man yet he received everything that Harry wanted in life. ‘But she’s my kid. I’m her dad. I’m the one who’s supposed to give her kisses and make her laugh,” He mumbled quietly as if his inner thoughts were far too strong to be kept in his mind
He was staring mindlessly at the numbers on his dashboard, hands gripping the leather steering wheel to try and ground himself. "But if that's my baby, how can she call someone who's not her father, dad?" He whipped his head towards Gemma, searching for validation that would make him feel better but the siblings were aware that he lost that title three years ago.
“I think you know you lost that place in their lives,” She reached a comforting hand to pat his arm, feeling just how tense he was under the fabric.
Harry shrugged her off, pinching his brows and pursing his lips as sadness began to swirl down the drain only to be replaced with resentment, irritation and bitterness. The taste on his tongue was hot with anger and his ears felt warm as he wheezed air instead of opting to yell his dissatisfaction near his sister.
“This isn't fair. She's m’baby too. Connor is not her father,” He spat with venom, “I am,” A pointed finger poked his chest. "She knew she was pregnant when she left me. She’s so fuckin’ selfish. How could she do this to me?
Gemma was quick to remind him of his actions, "You cheated on her, Harry.” Gemma cowered back at Harry’s beady eyes glaring at her with an unreadable emotion, stone-cold. “Maybe you should go home. Calm down a little bit,”
“No!” Harry cut Gemma off, “Need t’a hear her say it myself,”
Harry didn’t know what his plan was when he harshly slammed the car door behind him, practically storming on the patches of grass like a mad man. It wasn’t hard to spot the picture-perfect family sitting on a park bench which brought a scowl to his shielded face. He wanted to give Y/N a piece of his mind and it wasn’t necessarily the nicest thoughts that crossed his brain.
Halo was sitting on Connor’s lap while he was feeding her a peeled cupcake. Red velvet with cream cheese frosting--Harry felt like he was punched in the gut. The baked good was Y/N’s specialty and it had a lot of sentimental value to both of them. It was what she baked for their first year together. He could vividly see her frosting-dotted nose, aiming to splotch the cream on his cheek while she laughed. Harry wrapped his arms around her, hugging Y/N from behind and proceeding to kiss her sweet cheek, leaving the perfect opportunity to stain his skin with the frosting.
But he didn’t care if he was smashed headfirst into the cake (as long as it wasn’t ice cream cake)--Harry just wanted to see her smile and hear her laugh heartily.
Y/N was snuggled on Connor’s shoulder, fixing Halo’s hair as she made grabby hands at the confection. He cannot lie--Connor was a handsome man. Harry rarely felt intimidated or insecure, but seeing that this man managed to snatch everything Harry could ever want seemingly in a blink of an eye; Harry felt very jealous.
He pouted, eyes rimmed red and lips quivering wishing that Cory or Connor--whatever that little shit’s name was would disappear so that Harry could take his place instead. Actually, it was his spot in the first place. Only if he didn’t mess up, he thought. He missed Y/N so much! Seeing Y/N in her element of niceness and bright-gleaming smiles sent a truck full of sand down his throat as he gulped his emotion below the surface. The closer he got to them, his vision tunnelled towards Halo; brown, flouncy curls and a cute dimple embedded in her cheek as she giggled, accidentally knocking the cupcake on the ground.
If that wasn’t symbolism staring at Harry straight in the face; a sign that their so-called relationship really had no chance of reprieve. Harry chose to ignore it.
Connor clutched Halo tightly against him, crouching down with a napkin to clean up the scattered cake on the ground. Y/N was the first to notice him, her forehead creasing as her eyes bulged at the sight of Harry walking towards them. She subtly poked at Connor’s arm, hurting Harry even more because it meant that Y/N felt uncomfortable with his presence.
He was close enough to read her pink lips, “We should go,” matched with Y/N’s frantic actions of packing the juice boxes and the Tupperware of cupcakes into the tote bag beside her. Connor searched the park until his gaze landed on Harry, protectively shielding Halo from him.
Is he serious? Harry thought. That’s my own daughter.
Speaking of Halo, the two-year-old happily continued munching on her new cupcake, frowning slightly when Connor stood up, “Why we leaving, Daddy? Did I do somethin’ bad?”
Y/N sighed, they promised that Halo could play at the park all day and now it was cut short because of a certain someone.
“No, you didn’t, bub. Let Daddy explain at home, okay baby?” Connor hitched Halo higher on his hip, hoping that she wouldn’t ask any more questions until the trio left.
“Who’s that?” Halo asked, pointing at Harry only metres away from them. Her stubby finger outstretched at the stranger in front of her, eyes bright and sparkling with curiosity. There was no sign of recognition painting her green orbs.
Harry gulped, wanting so badly to scream “I’m your dad!” but he knew that Y/N will add that to the list of his mistakes he had made.
“No one, angel,” Connor planted a kiss on her head, looking over at Y/N who had finished packing everything up. He tilted his chin in an attempt to scare Harry off.
But the thing was, Harry was already scared. He could feel his stomach in his throat but vomiting wasn’t the right word to describe it. His heart drooped deeper than the levels of the Earth. He was scared because his family was right in front of him but he couldn’t touch them or hug them in his arms. He was only allowed to look from the outside because there was a small possibility of being forgiven.
“Y/N. . .” Harry began hesitantly. The surge of confidence he had decreased with each passing second. He kept a close eye.
Y/N shrugged the strap on her shoulder, “Leave us alone, Harry.”
He felt his anger disappearing, a new emotion cascading his tear ducts and the blood in his veins. Harry looked back in retrospect; she really did mean it when Y/N said that she never wanted him around again. “I just want to talk. Please, let’s talk,”
“She doesn’t want to talk to you, Harry,” Connor interrupted, grabbing the bag from Y/N and wrapping an arm over her shoulder, guiding them away from Harry. “She’s happy without you, mate. can’t you see?”
Harry kept his gaze trained on Y/N’s face, actively avoiding eye contact but drifted when Halo’s frown caught his stare. The little girl’s chin was hooked over Connor’s shoulder, squirming in his arms in an attempt to stop him from walking. Halo was smart enough to know that Harry’s expression screamed sadness and her mummy said that “you need to find a way to make them happy” if someone was sad.
“Wait!” Her shrill yell caused both Connor and Y/N to turn around. A piece of Harry’s heart shattered on the floor when Halo pulled Connor down by the nape of his neck, small hand leading his ear next to her lips. Then, she did the same to Y/N, pointing at Harry which caused him to straighten his stance, wanting to impress his daughter even though there was no point.
The couple shared a look before ultimately having Connor walk closer to Harry. Halo gripped her cupcake towards him, “‘ere y’go hawwy,’ She still couldn’t pronounce her ‘r’s’ yet.
Harry began to sob.
It was his daughter and those were the first words she had uttered to him. She didn’t know him yet Halo treated him with kindness and it ripped at his chest because Y/N must’ve taught her that. His palms became wet as tears streamed from his eyes, dampening the sleeves of his hoodie. He didn't care about looking foolish in front of them, not when his daughter saw him as a stranger and called Connor her ‘dada’.
Halo recoiled at the sudden reaction, her lips curving downwards, “Dada, mama, he’s cwyin’,” She tucked her face at the junction of Connor’s shoulder and neck, scared that she made him cry. Halo didn’t mean to make him cry. She felt so guilty that she started spilling tears of her own too, her face contorting into a scrunched expression as her mouth wailed open sobs, matching Harry’s.
Harry’s first instinct was to take a step forward and comfort Halo but he was rendered frozen when Connor shot him a glare, shifting Halo’s body out of reach and he could only see her face over the man’s shoulder. Y/N dimmed her eyes, brows pinching when she couldn’t help but let a smidge of sympathy wash over her. She muttered a few words to Connor, pushing him by the small of his back towards the parking lot.
When they were out of earshot, Y/N faced Harry, “What were you thinking? Are you trying to mess everything up again?” He tried to cut in, “Isn’t it bad enough that we’re talking about this in public? Why must you ruin everything, Harry?” She whisper-shouted, trying her best not to garner them any attention.
“N-no, Gemma told me and I jus’ wanted to see her--and you. Wanted to hear the truth come out of your mouth,” His large hands jammed into his pockets to prevent him from fiddling with them.
“Look, you have no right coming here,”
“I know that b-but I--,”
She held a palm up, “I’m not sadistic like you Harry. If you thought that I wouldn’t let you around her then you’re wrong. As much as I hate to admit it, I do miss you and I wish that you were there for us when we needed you,”
“I had no idea--,”
“Will you let me speak?” Her tone carried irritation. “But we’re alright now and we don’t need you anymore.”
Harry never thought that those statements would ever come out of Y/N’s mouth. “Don’t you think I deserve to get to know her?”
She sighed, “Deserve? Definitely not.” He nodded in agreement. “But I’d live in regret if Halo never got to know her real father. . .”
Harry’s expression lit up, hopeful eyes shooting glances at her, “D-does that mea--? Are you--?”
“You can see her. You can get to know her but only because you’re Halo’s father,” Y/N took a brave step forward, ignoring the way her heart throbbed as if she was being stabbed by a thousand knives. Painful memories drifted in and out of her train of thought until she shook her head to muster them out. It was in the past but she could never forget the feeling of hopelessness taking over her whole body.
With a hand on his shoulder, she continued, “Anyone can be a father and you’re just that. Don’t think that you’re entitled to anything more. You will never be her dad. Connor is. Understood?”
Harry took a deep breath and swallowed a heavy gulp, “I. . .understand. Thank you, Y/N. For letting me back in when I don’t deserve it,” He glanced at the two tiny figures piling in the car. He could just imagine himself plucking little Halo into her booster seat, booping her nose as she asked for the hundredth time why she had to sit at the back and not at the front with them.
“I’m not finished,” She deadpanned, “You are going to be there for her. Not for me, not for us because our relationship is over. You can hurt me as you did before and I can accept it but don’t you dare try to hurt her,”
And it was true. Having endured his painful game once before, Y/N was stronger now. She could take heartbreak as agonizing as that but she wouldn’t dare stand seeing Halo’s teary eyes staring back at her, asking why Harry had left them. She was far too young to experience the feeling when a piece of herself is ripped apart.
“I won’t hurt her. I promise,”
“I heard those words come out from your mouth years ago and look where we are now. Once you hurt her, it’s over.”
“Y/N, t-that’s hardly fair. I am her dad, aren’t I?” Harry cleared his throat at Y/N’s raised brow.
“No, you’re not. We just went through this, Harry.”
“Don’t call me that,” He muttered quietly because she only ever called him ‘baby’ or ‘h’.
“Will you stop? I laid out my cards. If you want to even have a speck of presence in her life, then you have to abide by what I said,” She crossed her arms in defence, “You will never be Halo’s dad, Harry. Connor is her dad. I don’t know how many more times I have to repeat this before it gets through you thick head,”
He opened his mouth to talk, “No wiggle room whatsoever?”
“No. Do I have to write a letter for you to understand that?”
In a moment of hurt and despair, Harry spat out, “Might as well, yeah? Waited over two years to tell me anyway,”
“Are you kidding me?”
His throat ran dry, realizing that he just ticked another box to favour against being a part of his daughter’s life, “I-I’m sorry. I didn't mean to,”
“Whatever. Are you willing to make the sacrifice?”
“This isn’t the place to talk about this,” Harry suggested, wanting to have some sort of foot on the ground so he doesn’t feel like he’s topping over with guilt and sadness. “Maybe you can come over to my house,”
Y/N shook her head, glancing briefly at her phone when it buzzed, “No. I will not step foot in that house again. If you really want to discuss it, you can come over at our place,”
“Your place?” Did they all live together? Well, that was another slap to the face. Not only was Connor playing dad to Halo, but he was also part of the household. Harry’s face must have contorted into a grimace because Y/N sighed softly.
“Yes, our place. Meaning all three of us,” She gestured behind her. “I have to go. You can probably get my number from Gemma; you can text me then.”
“Yes, yes! Of course, I want to talk to you. . . about this, I mean,” Harry lowered his enthusiasm. The small voice in his head reverberating that this was not about him and Y/N; this was about Halo.
“And make sure you don’t bring anyone else,” Y/N said sarcastically, subtly pointing in the direction of the paparazzi hiding behind some bushes. Harry was usually good at spotting them but today was just a puddle of hurt and confusion. “I don’t want her having to read nasty things like I did,”
What Y/N said may have been a side comment, but Harry couldn’t help but take it to heart. Was this a good idea? Sure, he wanted to be a present dad in Halo’s life. However, is it worth it to stir unwanted drama? If only he didn’t cheat on Y/N, all of this could have been avoided.
With his mind in a haze, Harry barely noticed Y/N’s figure moving away from him. He jogged to catch up with her, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder. Harry felt numb to the way she shrugged her touch off of her immediately, “Were you ever going to tell me about our daughter?’
Y/N stared at him quizzically, tilting her head a little bit sideways, “I thought I did? Wait!” A look of recognition plastered across her features, “I did try to tell you but you blocked me before the message sent through,”
Harry gulped with realization. He blearily remembered bitterly blocking her number just as she texted “I need to tell you something,”
Y/N: Since you’re not picking up my calls
I need to tell you something
Y/N took a deep breath as her thumbs tapped on the letters slowly as if to withhold the news from him. She was not at all ready to reveal that she was pregnant and that he was the father but Y/N knew that it was the right thing to do. Despite the fact that he was currently out of the country on vacation somewhere on an island with sandy beaches with Camille. Y/N was aware that this spike of courage was rare and so, she had to do it now.
Y/N: I’m pregnant
And you’re the father
She locked the device as soon as she pressed the arrow to send the message, clutching the phone close to her chest and shutting her eyes so tightly that it hurt. Minutes passed with no response and Y/N was shouldered by curiosity to check if he had sent anything back or simply left her on ‘seen’.
It was neither. The screaming red exclamation mark surrounded by a circle indicated that she had been blocked.
The times when she left missed calls on his phone were for a reason much bigger than the two of them. Y/N didn’t call to beg for him back or to ask Harry to want her again. He was ashamed to admit that he had rolled his eyes upwards every time he clicked on a voicemail she had left, stating, “Hey H, it’s me. Call me back when you hear this. I need to talk to you,” which he deleted without a second thought. She didn’t text him endlessly to politely ask for her things packed and settled for her pick-up because Y/N could not bear to spend another second in a room with him.
It wasn’t that at all.
Y/N was physically moving farther and farther away from him, settling herself into the car before driving off to hers and Connor’s shared house. Halo sat in the backseat, singing along to the radio.
Harry was surrounded amidst the joyful squeals of children and reprimanding voices of their parents.
He stood alone with no one but loneliness by his side and the brisk flash of cameras in his peripherals.
Harry felt out of place.
As a world-renowned pop star, he was used to being paid a different kind of attention in most of the places he went to. He should be used to it. Harry had to take measures in order not to get recognized for stepping into a local coffee shop. Even in hot weather, his recognizable tattoos gave easy access for fans to whisper amongst each other, wondering if it was the right time to ask for a photo or merely share a conversation with him.
His voice--the thing that made him as famous as he is now--was tinted into his fans’ heads. Recognition blaring in their ears when the deep, gruff tone projected the open air. It would be quite disturbing if he had to change the pitch for everyday errands. Harry would rather feel out of place than go to extremes to change who he was.
This lifestyle was something that he was used to, having been under the scrutiny of the public eye for a little over a decade now. But Harry knew that Y/N was a small, town girl practically bickered and poked until she was forced to cough something out to taint Harry’s name in vain. From the way, he preferred sniffing his nose into a hanky instead of a Kleenex. The way he snored loudly when his nostrils felt dry. The way his hair isn’t as naturally curly as it appears to be. All of these things were the borderline crossing of his privacy that she could’ve taken to the press, urging in many articles written about his odd habits or preferences.
Not that he thought Y/N was that type of person to spill secrets in the midst of desperation, but Harry had cheated on her for God’s sake. If she did run her mouth, Harry wouldn’t blame her. He was horrible to her; cheated on her for a year, not even bothering to tell Y/N that his affection was teetering in favour of not hurting her and wanting to keep his side relationship a secret for a taste of adrenaline that came with his less-than boring life.
Harry left her alone while she was going through a life-changing period of her life. To be fair, Y/N didn’t actually tell him. She tried, but the message never reached his cognition. Harry wanted to save his salvation by choosing to believe that it was her fault for not visiting him in person to tell him the news.
Really though, how could Harry possibly know about her pregnancy if she didn’t make the effort to inform him of his own child. It wasn’t like he was supposed to check in on her, his ex-girlfriend, right? That was unheard of. And frankly, Harry thought that the day everything blew up--when she read the letter meant for Camille; Y/N made it very clear that she did not want to speak to him again. So really, Harry was just respecting her wishes.
Y/N was supposed to be the one feeling out of place; not Harry. If only she had told him when she identified the symptoms of pregnancy, he could have helped out. Harry wasn’t sure if he would have left Camille to begin a family with Y/N (if she took him back) or if he was only a parent of support. One that was there for the sake of raising a child but not sharing the means and affection to build a relationship with Y/N.
These were Harry’s thoughts as he sat with the family of three. In between Y/N and Connor as they sat on opposite ends of the round table with baby Halo in her high chair and Harry across from her. Halo was staring at him with wonder and curiosity; a shy type of look that tinted her cheeks a tad rosy and her lashes to peer at the man adjacent to her, wondering why he was joining them in their family dinner.
Harry felt out of place.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Connor asked, feeding the child a spoonful of peas. “Not usually like this,” She shook her head, tucking her arms together and pursing her lips inwards in a sign of rejection.
Halo looked at Y/N who was giving her a soft smile, then to Harry. “She’s not usually like this. She must be shy that you’re here tonight, Harry,” Y/N explained, a tone of indifference that she tried to mask to help Halo feel a little more comfortable.
Harry gulped heavily. His child was uncomfortable because of him. He almost felt guilty for wanting to scoop her up and canoodle Halo in his arms. Harry still hadn’t had the chance to do that.
When the door opened earlier this evening, Harry was met by Y/N’s furrowed brows, firmly reminding him that this dinner was for him to be slowly introduced into Halo’s life. Harry would get the chance to care for her by helping the child with her nighttime routine. That included brushing her teeth, tucking her in, a bedtime story and possibly a kiss on the forehead.
Harry was giddy, to say the least. Harry was confident with kids and could easily mould into what they needed. If they wanted him to pretend to be a car while they jumped on his back as they grasped onto his curls to steer him, he would. If Harry was instructed to be a pretty princess with a plastic tiara on his head, he would exaggeratedly lift a pinky up to play the part. It was easy for him to win the hearts of his little nieces and nephews because they were familiar with him. They knew him as ‘Uncle Harry’ who gave them gifts whenever he came over to visit or if there was a large family reunion.
He couldn’t exactly do that with Halo. She was familiar with him, yes. However, the one time they interacted, Harry had made her cry. It didn’t sit right with him that tears sprung from her corneas when she was only trying to make him feel better, sensing that her parents wanted nothing to do with him.
It wasn’t like Harry knew what she liked either. Did Halo like playing with dolls? Animals? Race cars? The most basic of things, Harry didn’t know. What was her favourite colour? When was her birthday? His resumé was already tarnished since he wasn’t present when her mother fell pregnant. Then, he missed her first steps, her first words. He was just a stranger to her.
And it showed from the way he stepped foot into the kitchen.
Harry heard her before he saw her. Tiny squeals and giggles fell from her mouth as Connor chased her around with plates grasped in his hands. Y/N had scolded the man for getting distracted instead of setting the table. Halo’s noises quieting down when she caught sight of the familiar yet unfamiliar man loitering the doorway.
“‘M sorry, love. Halo wanted to play,” Connor gripped her waist to pull Y/N closer to him, pressing a kiss to her cheek as she fought off a smile from splintering her face. “Right, cutie?”
“Wanted to play! Sowwy mama,’ Halo apologized, tugging on her pant leg.
That was when Harry realized the possibility of ruining the little family they had in the words. But this was supposed to be his in the first place so he couldn’t care less if he wrecked it. As selfish as it may be, Harry thought that there was meaning in him accidentally hearing Gemma’s conversation with Y/N. Sure, it was bound to happen, but it couldn’t have come at a better time. The hole in his heart caused by Camille’s confession of not wanting kids was growing each day, accentuated by the late-night trip to the grocery store and seeing the small baby clothes that took up half of his palm.
It was a sign, right? He felt like he was drowning in a relationship that had no future and the next day, he was met with Y/N and their baby.
Symbolism. As a writer, it was absolutely crucial to introduce some sort of word, item, place, or person and infuse it with impeccable meaning. Irrefutable to the point that that noun is and will be what the writer makes of it.
Round tables were supposed to be better at sprouting conversations than rectangular or square tables. Any conversation between a pair must be shared with everybody who sat around it. There was no room to quietly snicker or ration secrets. Yet somehow that theory was not working. At all.
Harry felt like an intruder sitting in a table that never held more than three people because it was always just them: Y/N, Connor and Halo. As the child got more comfortable with his presence, she slowly started babbling incoherent and coherent words alike, conversing with her ‘parents’ as they asked her about her day at daycare. Y/N asked about Connor’s day at work and the latter reciprocated the question which she was currently answering.
“It wasn’t as busy as I thought,” Y/N shrugged her shoulders, forking a piece of mash. Connor made a sound of recognition, “S’that why you texted me to go home instead?”
Y/N nodded, helping Halo scoop her own forkful of mash, “Yep, I had time to go to the store. I know that you were swarmed at work,” The couple allotted a loving glance towards each other.
Harry’s heart was cracking. He was witnessing what he could have had and He had a front-row seat to it. Was it jealousy? Maybe. He was in a relationship so he shouldn’t feel like swarming Y/N’s smaller frame in his arms, shielding her and baby Halo away from Connor. But he did.
“What about you, Harry?” Connor questioned him with a kink to his brow. Harry could tell that the question wasn’t sincere, purely out of consideration.
In a surprise, Harry coughed a little, reaching out to his cloth to dab the corners of his mouth. Truth to be told, Harry spent the day in a state of anxiety. From the moment he woke up, Harry could feel his chest expanding with nervousness, heart beating loudly and pounding in his ears. He picked at the skin of his lip in the wonder of what he was going to wear. If he should wear cologne or if it will irritate Halo’s senses. He spent the better half of the morning browsing online for toys he could get in a hurry to give to Halo.
Harry contemplated cancelling the dinner because of the uneasy feeling boiling in his stomach. Heightened senses and pinched nerves convinced Harry that he could feel the muscles of his esophagus contracted as he swallowed. Lungs punctured with the tip of the pen he was using to scrawl a list of ideas to build a bond with his daughter
“It was alright,” Harry said warily, “Didn’t really have anythin’ to do today except come here,”
Y/N pulled her head back in surprise, “Sorry, we ruined your day off,”
His eyes widened immediately. Harry’s usual aura of confidence nowhere to be seen, “N-no, no. I didn’t mean it like that,” He could feel stray curls hitting his cheekbones lightly. “I jus’-- it’s m’break so I haven’t got anything for the next couple of months,”
___
Harry’s settled nerves were awoken when it was time to clean up. Y/N insisted on doing the dishes with Connor while Harry bonded with Halo.
“Remember, you’re doing this for her,” Y/N whispered in his ear, causing shivers to crawl up his spine, “Don’t be nervous, Harry. She’s going to love you,” She added, seeing the way he blinked warily at Halo and Connor. Even going as far as giving him a comforting smile.
“Thank you, Y/N--for giving me this,” She nodded in response, jutting her chin downwards.
“Hawwy? Mama said you gonna help me get to bed?” Halo’s green eyes still shone despite the dim kitchen lighting, reminding Harry that this was his and Y/N’s creation. Throughout the dinner, the child had somehow warmed up to Harry’s presence. With a promise of an ice cream trip after her nursery classes earlier in the morning, Halo was quick to befriend the man who she pointed out: ‘has the same dimple as me!’--while poking a stubby finger to her plush cheek, grinning to showcase it.
Harry could feel his heart thud, crouching down to her level, worried of her straining her neck looking up at his tall stature. “Tha’s right. Wanna show me where the bathroom is?” She nodded, grabbing Harry’s index finger to drag him along, exerting his lumbar to keep his height low. He could feel Halo’s feet stumbling, keeping her balance by tightening her grip on Harry.
Their time in the bathroom was fairly short. Halo had learned to brush her teeth by herself. She only needed Harry to guide her up the stool so that she could reach the sink, spitting the foam from her mouth when Harry made a funny face in the mirror, giggling loudly that had Harry’s chest feeling light.
As they walked through the hallway, Harry couldn’t help but let his ears be numb to Halo’s babbling about her favourite stuffed toy. He didn’t mean to. Instead, his neck craned to the door left agape, assuming that it was Connor and Y/N’s with the way the Gucci shoes that Harry had bought her were neatly placed at the bottom of the foot of the bed. He stared down at his moving feet, mood souring despite the bright colours of his loafers imprinted in a little rainbow--the same ones that he just caught sight off and wavered just as quickly.
“You like it?”
He snapped out of his thoughts when Halo climbed on her tiny bed, clutching her favourite stuffed toy. Harry plastered a beaming grin on his face, inspecting the painted room, the small desk pushed against the wall and the numerous artworks taped to almost every surface.
One, in particular, had his heart aching more so than it already was.
It was a hand-drawn stick figure portrait of Y/N, Halo, and Connor. Harry couldn’t even pretend that the skinny, stretched black marker was him because the child messily penned Connor’s name underneath. The figures were holding each others’ hands, oblong faces paired with a curved mouth shaped upwards. It didn’t help that the title at the top was “My Famli” which was crossed over with a red marker and re-titled underneath as “My Family” in neat handwriting that Harry could recognize as Y/N’s.
“Hawwy?” She repeated, wondering why he was staring so hard at the drawing taped on her bedside table. Her brows furrowed when a drop of tear fell from his eye and landed on Connor’s head, smudging the ink and making it blurry disarray as Halo gasped. “Oh no!”
“‘M s-sorry, Halo,” Harry’s tongue felt too thick in his mouth, sobbing threatening to escape but he remembered how that would make his daughter feel. Halo placed her soft hand on top of his.
“It’s okay, Hawwy. I can do it again,” Her timid voice made his heart flutter. Halo didn’t want Harry to cry again and it looked like he was about to so she scurried in planting her shaky legs on the floor. A blank paper was already stable on her desk, grabbing a marker to draw the ruined project again. She could see Harry’s shadow towering over her, thanks to the light projected by her lamp.
Flipping the paper over, Halo giggled, “Go away! Y’cant see it till it’s done,” She used her force to push him backwards which wasn’t a lot so Harry walked backwards until the back of his calves hit her bed frame. “Stay there and play with Honey,”
As she got back to work, Harry searched for ‘Honey’, finding an oatmeal coloured bear with a pot of honey clutched between its threaded paws. He stared at the plush toy for what felt like forever, wondering how special this must be to her. And how Harry wasn’t the one to have given it to her.
“Done!” Halo’s timidness returned, hiding the paper behind her back yet Harry heard the slight crumple.
Placing the stuffed toy on the bed, he asked, “Are y’gonna show me?”
She handed the artwork to Harry while he watched, smiling softly. Halo slapped her palms on her cheeks when Harry turned it over, his breath hitching when he saw the extra figure that she had drawn.
Harry. With a head of wild curls and dotted green eyes that appeared more black with the lighting.
He couldn’t help it when happy tears seared his waterline which Halo mistook for complacence. “You don’t. . .like it Hawwy?”
“I-I do. I love it, honey,” Harry admitted, chuckling slightly as he patted his upper thigh. She climbed onto the bed with him, the wood creaking beneath Harry’s weight. Halo clumsily climbed on his lap, lifting his heavy forearm so she could sneak between his legs.
Harry could feel his nonexistent double chin crowding his neck as he looked down at Halo who was cuddled to his chest, lips turned into a pout, looking at her quick-minute work. “I like it cause you’re there,” She pointed at the ice cream in Harry’s hand before yawning loudly.
“You’re sleepy, baby Halo?’
She nodded, pressing a small hand on his chest. Harry took the initiative to lay the child down on her pillow despite every nerve in his body urging him to stay in that position. But Harry figured that he had probably overstayed his welcome for the night.
Harry pressed a passionate kiss to her forehead, caressing her head gently. Sleep eyes stared at him as he pulled her fleece blanket to her chin. “Stay?” She questioned, fists crumpling to clutched the end of the fabric.
“I can’t, bub,” He informed with regret, shaking his head sadly and his mouth curved downwards. His knee was sore with weight pressed on his knee cap and his lumbar was aching with how he crouched down one too many times this evening, but all pain seemed to disappear when Halo picked up Honey the Teddy Bear from beside her and gave it to Harry. “For me? Thank you,”
Halo laid back down on her bed, “Mhm,”
“Why?”
As a two-year-old, Halo could only say so many words, yet her thoughts went far deeper than her brain could comprehend. That she felt a profound attachment to Harry despite seeing him twice. How pleasant it was to spend even just a small amount of time with him. Harry was nice and gave her forehead kisses and rubbed her head that placed a smile on her face. He cried because he loved her artwork and he apologized when he did something wrong. He contorted his lips into a silly face to make her laugh. He was going to be picking her up from school and Harry said he was going to buy her ice cream tomorrow!
“I dunno,” Halo shrugged, peering downwards to avoid eye contact. Harry chuckled heartily, puckering his pink lips to another peck on her forehead, and then both of her cheeks.
Harry tried to see the brighter side of the situation because it truly was something to look forward to. Having the chance to get to know Halo was something that he should be grateful for. As Y/N said, Harry did not deserve to be a part of her life, despite the fact that he was the father. And somewhere, somehow— he understood where she was coming from.
Harry honestly wouldn’t know what he would do if the roles were reversed; if Y/N were the ones to have been cheating on him. He would not have a clue if Harry would be as kind to her as she was with him. If an outsider were to assess the situation between Harry and Y/N, they would definitely choose her side to be in favour of. So far, Harry still wasn’t able to pinpoint what exactly Y/N had done wrong for him to be swayed by an illicit affair. Was there even a moment in time that he could vividly see where he made the decision to just up and betrayed her trust? Because if there was; either his memory has gone to shit or Harry was more of a jerk than he served himself.
To put things into perspective, Y/N was the perfect partner and Harry had somehow lost sight of that by cheating on her. Don’t get him wrong; Camille was good, great, even. Yet Y/N was an amazing woman who knew exactly what she wanted. Coincidentally, those were the same type of things that Harry needed, too. As much as it pained him to say it, Camille’s rejection of their own little family made him rethink his decision-making process. Harry has learned more about himself in these past few months than he did in his entire lifetime.
For starters, he cleared it up that he had absolutely no excuse for cheating on Y/N except the fact that his retention span lasted a good few years before he was in search of something fresh; something new and exciting. Maybe it scared him just how serious she was in having a family in the future that his subconscious thought that Harry needed one last hurrah to get the infidelity out. Besides, divorces are more complicated when there are children involved.
Secondly, being with Camille was an infatuation that lasted for a long, three years—beginning while Harry was in a relationship with Y/N. Feelings were still there for sure, but he just didn’t know if it was enough to make him stay, especially when Y/N and baby Halo were right there waiting for him. They actually weren’t; Harry just liked to pretend that they were so that he could justify the consequences of his actions.
Camille was trying to make things work with him; Harry could see that. However, there were only so many things that she could do to improve their relationship before she had to change the choices that she had made years prior. Camille really didn’t want to say that she had refuted the idea of not having kids for the sake of making a relationship prosper, but maybe it was what she had to do to make him stay. She wanted a happy life with someone who wanted the same things as her. Harry wasn’t the man who shared a mutual agreement and she was pushed to question her options.
Nonetheless, Camille and Harry stuck with each other because they were all they knew for the past three and a half years. It was definitely ironic for Harry to say that he couldn’t just leave a three-year relationship behind for another woman; because he had done that before. Now, he was a hypocrite too? His ego cannot take it.
Connor wrapped his arms around Y/N’s middle as she washed the dishes in the sink. Their water heater was broken so the stream that came from the faucet sometimes teetered from freezing cold to extremely hot. Right now, she was scrubbing the sponge on the porcelain as quickly as possible while the water was at the right temperature.
Y/N turned her head to the side, pressing a kiss on Connor’s cheek. He rested his chin on her shoulder, bobbing up and down as she moved her arms.
“Is this really a good idea, baby?” Connor asked, staring at the way her lashes fluttered in a pregnant pause, taking a deep breath.
She nodded, reaching over slightly to rest the wet dish on the drying rack. “Halo deserves to at least know her real father,”
And it was true. What kind of mother would Y/N be if she kept a secret like that from her own daughter? The past two years was a constant ping-pong battle of reaching out to Harry and sharing the news to him; then, Y/N would be hit with a shot of realization, wondering if this would ruin his current lifestyle.
“I understand. What if he leaves again? Hate to remind you but Harry left you once before, don’t think he’ll hesitate to do so again,”
She froze at Connor’s words. Y/N was aware that he only said that in good faith, to remind her of how hurt she was at the time and just how long it took for her to be able to finally breathe again.
One side of Y/N urged to still defend Harry. She wanted to turn and around, yell at him because Connor doesn’t know Harry as she does. Harry wasn’t the type to build a child’s dreams up only for him to personally manhandle the heart and crush it in his fist. There was a reason why he was a godfather to so many kids; Ruby, Arlo and Jackson—because he was capable. Harry was a nurturing father who put himself on the back burner in favour of making sure that the little ones were safe and secured. He had no problem being third if it meant that the kids were first, then Y/N, then him.
It all sounded so good in Y/N’s head; so well-rehearsed and very well thought out. The monologue that had somehow stuck in the sides of her brain like a script taped to the wall, ready for the time it needed to be recited. The shredded pieces of paper also reminded her that Y/N might’ve known Harry before, but she certainly doesn’t anymore. In fact, she knew just as much as Connor did.
Just like Y/N had grown and evolved into a new person, Harry was not the same guy he once was when they were together.
“I told him the consequences if he did,”
Connor pulled back, stepping away from her. “But wouldn’t it be better if we didn’t take that chance? Who knows what he might do. . .” He trailed off, grabbing a dry rag to wipe the water dripping from the dish.
Y/N took a leap of faith in letting Harry in. He was a wild card. He could promise one thing but would mean another. Or he could recite a vow and completely annihilate the person as he did with her. Yet somehow, Y/N couldn’t resist the opportunity to give him one chance. Maybe it was because a small part of her craved to re-create a happy family that they had always wanted.
“It’s a risk. I know that” Y/N rinsed a cup, swirling the water in circles. She felt like that whenever Harry was around.
“So why are you still doing it?” Y/N opened her mouth to answer, “And tell me the truth this time, yeah?”
Her boyfriend stared at her with an unreadable emotion in his eyes, lips drew taut in a straight line and arms were crossed over his broad chest. The pressure was immense on Y/N’s shoulders. She was torn between admitting what she had buried deep below the sand or simply glossing over it like a figure skater. Nonetheless, Y/N was on thin ice.
For years, she had flicked away the remaining feelings that stayed with her. But they were persistent in sticking by her side. It wasn’t like Y/N could completely erase Harry from her life--from who she was. She still dressed like him, evidenced by the matching pair of Gucci loafers she chose not to wear for the night in fear that he would coincidentally be sporting the same footwear.
Furthermore, they had a child together! Halo was the spitting image of him. It was hard not to be reminded by a man she once loved when their little baby was both of them mixed in one. So did Y/N still love Harry? She couldn’t deny how much her heart fluttered seeing him stutter over his words at the park. Y/N just wasn’t sure if it was from anxiety and nervousness or excitement and anticipation.
Unbeknownst to the couple, Harry had sneakily closed a sleeping Halo’s bedroom door. His trek back to the kitchen was slow, slightly afraid of the awaiting talk he and Y/N--and possibly Connor-- have yet to have. Harry wanted to be there for Halo and for Y/N every step of the way, but he knew that Y/N would not allow him around if his intentions were to cater to a relationship with her. She was already tolerating him as is.
Standing behind the thin wall that acted as a partition from the hallway to the kitchen, Harry carefully placed his hands against the barrier to steady himself. He didn’t know if his legs could take whatever answer would spill from Y/N’s mouth. If she admitted her true feelings, he would stumble and melt into a puddle. He would be confused, but Harry wouldn’t be opposed to it; he was in a relationship after all. If she denied it--which was the more likely option--, his heart would break silently in his chest.
Harry numbed himself of the guilt raking at his ankles. He was well aware that this was a private conversation but hey; it was not his fault that he had ears straining to listen to Y/N’s reply.
“Do you still love him?” Connor followed up, voice grim. Almost fearful to find out the truth. Harry was, too.
Y/N paused her thoughts as well as her actions, flinching at the sudden intrusion of Connor’s question. She flinched, yelping a little and jumping backwards when the broken water heater subdued the filtering liquid into a burning hot splatter on her skin. Connor picked his feet up in alarm, grabbing at Y/N’s wrist to see the minor injury on the back of her palm.
“Ow!” Y/N whisper-shouted, soothing the ache by situating it between her thighs before shakily showing it to Connor; the doctor.
“Let me see, baby,”
Harry peeked his head around the corner, almost losing his cover with the way his feet instantaneously wanting to move towards a hurting Y/N. Good thing he caught himself. Surely they would put two and two together and realize that Harry was eavesdropping.
That decision came with a laceration to his heart. Harry got a first-class ticket to register that the couple was everything he and Y/N were. The pet names, the domesticity of their actions. The caring glances and constant check-ups.
Deciding to come out of hiding, Harry almost had a heart attack when he turned the corner and was met face to face with Connor. His brows had dipped in worry, face determined to grab some cream to apply to the burn from their first-aid kit in the bathroom. Harry guessed that his whizzing thoughts failed to hear the quiet instruction.
The man jolted in surprise, stopping quickly in his tracks, “Oh hey! Is Halo asleep?” Connor gave him a smile despite the confusion etching in his forehead. Harry nodded dumbly, lips pursing like a fish. “Y/N’s just burned her hand, nothing too serious though,”
He looked over his shoulder to see Y/N eyeing the both of them suspiciously, still clutching the burnt skin close to her. “Oh, I see,”
Connor smacked a firm hand on his shoulder, stepping around him to grab the cream. Harry walked towards Y/N, noticing that she was soothing the painful ache with ice wrapped in layers of tissue. She was softly hissing through her teeth once in a while.
“You okay?”
She tilted her head at him, appearing to be dazed out in her thoughts. “Yeah, uh, nothing too bad,”
Harry kept his distance, leaning on the other side of the counter. He started off by saying, “Thank you for giving me this chance,”
Y/N graced him with a smile, standing up straighter when Connor appeared with a tube in his hand. Harry watched as he unscrewed the cap, placing it beside her. He squeezed a bit of the cream unto his fingertip before applying it directly on Y/N’s skin. She winced, wanting to pull her wrist away from his grip but Connor didn’t let her, “It’s gonna be fine, baby,”
He pressed a kiss to her temple, continuing to rub circles on the burn until Y/N visibly relaxed through slouched shoulders and less shaky breaths.
Harry was staring at them like a kicked puppy. He was fussy and frustrated all in one. He wanted the attention that Y/N was giving Connor. He wanted to be Connor, but both of them were too wrapped up in their little love bubble to notice Harry’s squinted eyes and pinched brows.
He was frustrated because even if he wasn’t the direct cause of her pain, Harry had somehow found a way to continue hurting her and Connor was always there to pacify his wrongful actions. Harry hated that this was how fate had planned his life.
Harry cleared his throat, raising a fist to his mouth, “Think I should go,” His thumb pointed over his shoulder, “Uh thank you again,”
Y/N snapped her head to him, gaze lowering in a timid manner as if she forgot that he was even there in the first place. Connor was the first to reply, “Alright, man. See you whenever,” He capped the tub, shoving it in his back pocket to return to its place.
She leaned on her tiptoes to press a kiss on his lips, muttering something in his ear that had Connor teasingly wrapping his hands on her hips. Harry looked away, taking long strides to the entryway instead.
“Harry, wait!”
He shuddered at the memory of the words that had changed his life when Gemma told him the truth. Harry’s shoe was half-way one when he turned around. “Yeah?”
Y/N was holding a folded brochure, “Halo has a recital this weekend for her dance class,” She handed it to him, “Maybe you’d want to go? You can bring Camille if you want but I think it would be better if you didn’t. She’s still new to this and I don’t want her asking too many questions until she can unders--,”
“I’ll go,” Harry cut her off, unfolding the folded paper. The venue was about twenty minutes away from his place. It was only an hour-long considering the skill set of two-year-olds but it was a fun way for parents to cheer on their little ones. Harry’s previously sour mood was now replaced with giddiness at the sight of his daughter in a pretty pink tutu, twirling on her feet. He was sure that Halo was born to become a performer like him.
She sighed in relief, puffing her cheeks out cutely, “It’s a private dance class. Pretty high end so the security should be okay,”
And there it was again. The constant reminder that Harry was otherworldly to some people. As much as he loved living his lifestyle, he sometimes wished that he was a normie. That was a lot to ask for considering his current situation with his daughter, but a man can dream.
“Got it,”
Y/N leaned over to show him the back of the leaflet, “Just show them this ticket and security should let you in. Halo wanted me to give that to you because she was too shy earlier. I know it’s short notice but I guess she was comfortable enough to ask you,”
Harry blushed at the admittance, mentally patting himself at the back for making his daughter feel at ease in a short amount of time.
“I’ll be there,” He pushed his heel to adorn his sneakers. Y/N bit her lip, she looked hesitant, “It’s okay if you don’t want to go, by the way. I can explain that you’re busy. She’ll probably understand,”
He placed a hand on her shoulder. Harry wasn’t going to ruin his progressive relationship with his daughter on ‘probably’. “Y/N, s’alright. No problem, yeah? I’ll be there,”
Where was he?
It was two days after the dinner and Harry’s promise of attending Halo’s recital was vanishing with each passing second. Every time the hand of the clock ticked to indicate that another minute had elapsed. Harry still wasn’t jogging through the carpeted middle of the small theatre to where Connor and Y/N were seated. Two empty seats were left at the end of the aisle to aid Harry--and possibly Camille--a smooth arrival without creating any distractions.
There were only five minutes left before the stage crew were to dim the spotlights illuminating the room. Y/N was checking her watch what felt like every second, clicking her phone on and off once in a while worried that something may have happened to Harry. Maybe security wouldn’t let him in. The gnawing feeling at the pit of her stomach suggested that Harry just forgot the event tonight but Y/N would cross the bridge when they got to it. Regardless, her nerves were left unsettled as swallowing proved to be more difficult with the way a sip of her water had her gulping audibly. Connor wasn’t there to lend a soft hand on her upper back to help her breathe.
Speaking of, Connor had taken the initiative to visit Halo backstage. The ballet teacher was growing weary of the way the little dancer ran out from beside the stage to stop in front of her parents, asking, “Where’s Hawwy?”.
Halo had done it three times in hopes of receiving an answer aside from, “He’s not here yet,” Y/N tucked a fallen strand of hair from the otherwise sleek bun from beside her cheeks. Her daughter’s form slouching as her pretty eyes watered slightly, “He’s not coming? You told me he was coming, mama,”
Y/N glanced at Connor nervously, being met with an ‘I-told-you-so’ look which didn’t really help the situation. Luckily, the teacher had approached them with a clipboard on hand, searching for the ballerina. The teacher had suggested that one of them stay with her behind the curtain until the show began. Connor volunteered.
“Better hope he comes or else we’ll have to deal with the consequences. I really don’t want to see her heartbroken before of a promise he couldn’t keep,” Connor muttered, following the woman but not before thumbing circles on Y/N’s flushed cheek.
Y/N knew that he meant well. She also didn’t want to comfort a heartbroken Halo because Harry failed to show up where he promised he would be. And now, with a little less than two minutes before showtime, Connor was sent back beside her. Parents were being ushered to find their seats before the lights dimmed and it would be difficult to maneuver through knees and legs.
“Is he here?” Connor questioned, draping a hand on her shaking knee. Y/N shook her head, casting another glance at the auditorium doors. He waved at Halo who peeked her head between the silk curtains, wandering eyes looking at the empty seat beside Y/N.
“No. Hasn’t texted or answered his phone either,” Y/N was about to dial Harry’s contact once more in a desperate attempt to reach him. However, the dimming lights indicated that it was too late. Connor laced their fingers together, offering apologetic eyes and a tight-lipped smile; they would have to nurse a broken heart later tonight.
Harry was in the middle of buttoning his patterned shirt, staring at his reflection in the mirror to silently judge his fashion choice for the night. Was it too much for a kids’ ballet recital? He deemed that it was, stretching his arms to remove the fabric adorning his chest, moving to grab the pink, flamingo patterned shirt instead. He took his time, granted that he had about an hour before the recital started.
He smoothed the fabric over his broad shoulders, pausing when Camille walked in. Harry locked his green eyes at her through the mirror as she walked to their shared bed, sitting at the foot of it.
“What d’ya think?”
She hummed in response, absentmindedly nodding in agreement when Harry asked if it was good. Both Camille and Harry had talked about his relationship with Halo as soon as she landed at the airport. He didn’t want to keep any secrets from her. Fortunately, Camille was very understanding of his situation, offering him support and encouragement to build a bond with his daughter.
What Camille didn’t reveal was that she was a bit antsy of Harry’s relationship with Y/N. She meant everything she had said to him, but it was no guarantee that Harry would ignite another connection with his ex-girlfriend. Not that Camille didn’t trust him. It was just a bit concerning because she believed that how a relationship starts is how it will end. Harry certainly had a history of straying away from his present partner.
Harry was currently in their walk-in closet, finding a pair of slacks that weren't too formal or casual. Camille mulled the thoughts in her head. She loved Harry dearly and would do anything for him. Well, anything except having children of their own. He had mostly accepted her decision, only wincing a little when the topic of a family was brought up by mutual friends and family once in a while.
Truth to be told, Camille was scared. She was afraid that Harry would leave for Y/N because she had Halo. They were the family that he had always wanted and although Camille wasn’t too keen on giving him the same; she was debating on it.
“How’s this, Cam?” Harry retreated with two pairs of pants. On one hand was a pair of straight-leg skinny jeans that he hadn’t worn in years. The other held brown, corduroy, striped slacks. “Or this one?”
She bit her lip, standing up slowly, walking over to him. “What do I think?”
He nodded, innocently jutting his bottom lip at her as he looked back and forth.
Camille swathed her hands on his shoulders, ghosting her mouth over his ear, “I think I like you better without them,” Her finger traced his collarbone, swirling at the dip of his throat. “Without anything,”
Harry gulped harshly. He felt Camille unbuttoning his shirt, gliding her palms downwards until she was cupping his bulge, “Camille, wait,” He flicked his watch to check the time. It took twenty minutes to get there, maybe even more with traffic and parking.
She dragged him to the bed by the ends of his opened shirt, locking her lips with his plush ones. He rested a knee on the mattress, his hands at the back of her head as Camille continued to pull him down.
Pulling away, Harry panted, “What are you doin’?” He laid his creased forehead on hers.
Camille supported herself on her hands, moving her face back until she was able to get a clear view of his perplexed expression, “I was thinking that maybe we could. . . try having a baby, H,” Her voice was soft, almost timid and she was doing her best not to break eye contact to show her sincerity.
Harry gasped in surprise, “Wha--? Really? Are you serious?” His tone gained a pitch as excitement enthralled his senses. The smile on his face was wide and reached his bright eyes. “Baby, are you sure?”
Camille nodded, grinning softly. “Yes,’
“Oh my--this is. . .,” Harry pulled at the locks of his hair, pacing around the room. “This is great! Our own family. Jesus. I can’t believe it,” Tears sprung on his corneas.
He kneeled between her legs, taking her wrist and pressing a gentle kiss on her skin, murmuring ‘I love you’ repeatedly.
“Are you going to keep doing that?” Camille asked, spreading her legs rhetorically. Harry observed her position, nodding enthusiastically.
Another glance at his watch indicated that Harry was absolutely pushing it with being late to Halo’s recital. Yet one enchanting kiss from Camille wiped his thoughts clean. He was getting what he wanted; a family of his own.
Harry puffed a breath of air from his plump lips, chest weighing heavy with the pressure that came from Camille’s head. Her blonde strands were splayed all over his inked chest, fingertips softly tracing over the detailed butterfly on his belly. The giant smile spread over his cheeks made the muscles hurt, yet Harry couldn’t help the expression from overtaking his face.
He was happy.
Camille nuzzled her face closer to him, only looking up when she felt Harry thread his digits through her hair, “Do you think we did it?”
Harry chuckled, wrinkling the skin under his chin as he captured her gaze, “If not, we can always try again, no?” He leaned over to press a kiss on her hairline, breathing deeply to catch the last scent of her shampoo.
The woman cast a glance over the shimmering metal-wrapped around Harry’s wrist, the hands of the watch ticking with each second passing by. “Wanna try again now?”
Harry blinked his lids, tired from their ministration. However, the enthralling feeling boiled from deep within his chest, excitement buzzing all over his vein. The throbbing itch on his fingertip had him doubting the events of today. Like a red shoe-string knot tied over his index, Harry felt like he was missing out on something important.
The discarded shirt laying limply on the floor had Harry’s thoughts humming with whispering desire. Was he too fascinated with the prospective idea of starting his own family that he forgot about the one he already had?
With that thought zooming in his brain, Harry sat up with intensity, accidentally jolting Camille’s upper half with a quiet ‘oomph’ slipping past her lips.
“Sorry! Sorry Cam,” Harry yelled over his shoulder, bending down to grab his shirt. He trudged down the steps, sliding his taut arms over the holes of the shirt as he scrambled to button the stubborn links to close the shirt.
He almost lost his balance on the last couple of steps because of his socked feet against the varnished wood, catching himself at the last minute with a ringed-hand clutching the railing tightly. Harry reached the foyer dresser where he kept his essentials--his keys and leather wallet--, patting down the back pocket of his dress pants to check if he had his phone with him.
Harry paused for a few seconds once he slammed the front door shut, catching his breath. He watched the last rays of sunset projecting over the horizon from where his mansion stood from the hills, wondering if he was too late. Clicking his phone on, Harry’s eyes bulged from the white letters bolding the time.
A few minutes left before Halo’s recital was yet to begin and Harry had to figure out some magical way to make his twenty-minute trek shortened into a mere five minutes. Not including the time he had already wasted frozen on his porch step because of idling fear creeping up his spine. He was scared because there was no way that Harry would be able to make it on time-- he knew that. But he’d be damned if he didn’t at least try.
Y/N cheered Halo on when the curtains swayed to reveal the tiny dancers. Her fluffy tutu made her look absolutely adorable as she stood on her tiptoes, gracing her arms over her head with a practiced smile on her face. The music from the speakers shifted the mood to gather the guests’ attention to the girls on stage, parents cooing at the sight of their small children dancing their hearts out.
Y/N was unofficially assigned to gesture with silent claps and bold thumbs ups’ whenever Halo happened to glance over in their direction. Connor squared his fingers to clutch the edges of his phone, the red button rippling as the time duration changed, recording the whole performance from start to finish.
Despite the fact that the dance classes’ media team made an announcement that a professional videographer would be capturing the whole thing, Y/N wasn’t going to let memories of her child be left in clear-cut transitions. Both her and Connor wanted the recital captured from their point of view. To be reminded of the time Halo rewarded their sleepless nights with a proud, gleaming smile because of how talented and well-rounded she was at such a young age---it was all worth it.
For a moment, Y/N was reminded of the empty seat beside her, the cushions cold and not at all moulded to the shape of Harry’s body. She wondered if his expression would mirror hers; brows drawn in, eyes wide and lips slightly agape as their little girl gave them a subtle wave before doing a twirl.
Y/N couldn’t help but notice Halo’s dimmed features when she caught sight of the gap beside her mum, her ballet slippers skidding of the varnished flooring of the stage, causing little Halo to stumble and fall hard on her knees. A loud thud echoed throughout the auditorium from the hollowness of the flooring, her head staring down at her hands, shoulders slouched as her tutu spread over her minuscule limbs.
Connor shifted his device lower, peaking over his hands to see the child glance around helplessly. Her lashes fluttered around the room; the concerned faces of the audience, her teachers’ gesticulate hands urging her to stand tall, and finally, to her parents’ gentle encouragement.
Y/N shared a quick look with Connor before the couple directed tender smiles to Halo.Y/N mouthed silent cheers, watching Halo’s lips morph upwards, green eyes gleaming against the reflection of the stage light. With one last hopefully glance at the doors, Halo’s pink tights stretched over her knees gathering the strength to push herself up. She shook her head, her adolescent thoughts wondering why she ever put her trust in Harry.
Halo didn’t even know him that well! He was just a person that showed her much of what she wanted, enabling her to the type of love that felt so natural to the point that she pondered why Harry hadn’t been there to drop her off on her first day of preschool. Or made pancakes for breakfast with the small breaks of flour fights in between while Y/N slept soundly in bed. Why Harry’s eyes were the same shade as hers and how her tiny fingers fit perfectly well on the dimples on his cheeks---the same one she had on her plush ones!
The pain in the child’s chest was confusing for her to fully comprehend, yet Halo understood enough that it had to do with Harry's absence in a performance that she was excited for him to attend. Halo tried her best not to look at where her parents stayed seated because she knew that that empty seat would make her lose focus and that was exactly what happened.
With the remaining minutes of the set, Halo blocked the sight of the unoccupied chair, opting to watch her parents instead until the set came to an end and she was to switch costumes for her the grand finale with the rest of the students later on in the evening.
Harry slammed the end of his palm against the leather material of the horn, honking blaring sounds that hurt his own ears. Cursing under his breath, he huffed at the driver who flipped him off for not running through the yellow light, causing Harry to get stuck behind him. He could’ve pressed on the pedal and speedily grasped through the next intersection. Albeit unsafe, but that was the last thing on Harry’s mind.
The digital clock on the dash switched to ten minutes after the performance. Harry was hoping that there was some sort of technical difficulties that pushed the designated time back. Possibly rowdy parents were unable to find their seats because of excitement. And as ashamed as Harry was, he hoped that a child had thrown a fit about performing because that always ate uptime.
His fingertips tapped in a staccato pattern against the rim of the wheel while the other pinched the skin of his bottom lip between his index and thumb. Sweat formed on his hairline, only then did he notice the heat turned up to the highest level from the night before. Harry adjusted the knob, feeling immense coolness from the air vents, thinking once more when the light turned green.
It was an asshole move to honk 0.001 before the light turned green, but every nerve in his being urged Harry to move faster and quicker. He really wished that he could snap his fingers to erase the traffic ahead of him, his mind immediately crossing the bridge to wonder if there was even any parking at the lot--but that was a problem that he’ll handle once he gets out of the congested roadway.
Harry knew better than to text and drive, knowing that his attention span wasn’t meant to be split. Not when his gaze was wild on the road, eyes bouncing back and forth from the time to the seemingly endless traffic. He attached his phone on the car mount, speaking hoarsely to ask Siri to ‘call Y/N’
After the call went straight to voicemail, Harry spewed the words clawing up his throat, “Hello? Y/N? It’s Harry. I’m sorry that I didn’t make it on time. S-something came up and I’m runnin’ a bit late--fucking shit!”
His foot slammed hard on the brake pedal when a sneaky traffic light switched to red. “Sorry I-I’m almost there,”
The beep sounded a few seconds after. Harry was grateful because he had no more words to say after that, realizing that whatever he had to say had to be spoken in person. It was much more sincere--and with the way, his chest was being burdened with guilt---apologies over the phone were never going to fix this.
“Mumma! Dada!” Halo squealed, running over to the both of them. Y/N and Connor were down on one knee, greeting Halo from her height with an engulfing hug with the child in the middle.
The medal on her chest bounced against her body, wrapping her short arms around both of their necks. The couple showered her chubby cheeks with endless kisses, making Halo giggle with delight.
“I’m so proud of you, angel,” Y/N spoke, grazing a thumb over her hairline. Connor handed her a mini-bouquet of flowers which she accepted with glee. “Thank you!”
The dance teacher, Mrs. Dabney, approached the couple armed with compliments for little Halo.
“She truly does deserve that award. Halo comes to class with a friendly aura. Always eager to learn,” Mrs. Dabney shared, evoking a heartwarming feeling in both Connor and Y/N. “You two did a great job raising her,”
Y/N blushed, glancing in amazement at her child. Connor chuckled, kissing Y/N’s temple, “It’s mostly her doing. Such an angel,”
Halo’s grip loosened the slightest bit on Y/N’s and Connor’s hand, zoning out when the adults got into specifics of the choreography and future tuition prices due to the expansion of the dance studio. Looking around to see the families celebrating with the performers, Halo couldn’t help but let curiosity take over her.
Where was Harry?
“It was great seeing you guys,” Mrs. Dabney concluded, rubbing Y/N’s shoulder softly.
Connor examined the emptying room, seeing the families exit through the doors, probably heading out for dinner. The rumbling of his tummy reminded him he was hungry too.
“Ready to go, love?” He asked. Y/N nodded, pursing her lips at Halo’s sad expression.
“Yeah, it’d be best to take this off of her mind,” She kneeled down to Halo’s level, lifting her wobbly chin. Y/N’s heart shattered upon seeing the teary irises staring back at her, “He didn’t come, Mumma. Hawwy didn’t come,”
Halo’s tiny whimpers were a stab to the heart, nearly dropping her mini-bouquet as she sobbed into her mothers’ arms. Her salty tears damped the skin of her neck. “I know, bubba,”
Y/N made eye contact with Connor, who offered her a sympathetic smile, stroking the nape of Halo’s neck in a comforting manner.
Connor crouched down as well, muttering quiet phrases of ‘it’s okay, angel. “How about we get something cake, yeah? ‘Know y’like those, don’t you?”
Halo lifted her splotchy face-off of Y/N, swiping a small finger under her eyes. “A cake?
Her pretty pupils dilated with the light, as well as the prospective concept of her favourite treat dangling under her nose. “Yeah, baby. A chocolate cake,” Y/N voiced out, aiming to remove the pain from the little girls’ heart.
“That’s right, Halo. You can have as much as you’d like,”
Y/N squinted her eyes, she really wasn’t up to a sugar-high Halo nearing bedtime but she guesses it was better than nursing a mopey one. Connor mouthed a ‘what?’, his grin betraying him.
“Alright, let’s go,”
Harry frantically rammed his thumb on the key fob to lock his car. The latch of the door barely grazed past the edge of his sleeve before it slammed shut. He inhaled deeply, not taking notice of the nearly empty parking lot as he ran as fast as he could. Harry’s many experienced years of physical activity--including yoga, football (soccer) and early morning jogs-- have made this so much easier on his calves and asthmatic lungs.
“Fuck,” He whispered out, tightly closing his eyes, backtracking the progress he had made. He unlocked the car, hastily walking over to the passenger’s side to retrieve Honey the Bear situated on the leather seat. With the stuffed animal gripped tightly in his hand, Harry boosted his speed once again towards the entrance.
He stopped in his tracks abruptly when a family opened the door from the inside, almost hitting him square in the nose if his fast reflexes didn’t halt his frame. Harry smiled apologetically, large hands clasping in front of him as he bowed slightly to show sincerity. He could see the flash of recognition whizz past the man’s eyes.
Before he could say anything, the little girl coming to about hip level tugged on his pants, reflecting his attention to her. Harry quickly slipped past the opening, adjusting his vision to the dim lighting. He jogged down the slanted flooring, the carpet aiding him not to skid, especially since he was not wearing sneakers.
Harry panted with exertion, feeling the uneasiness weighing in from the tips of his fingertips, buzzing through his forearms and embedding itself in his taut biceps. His shoulders slumped, using his arms to propel himself towards the front faster. The emptiness of the room should already tell him what he was frightened to face. However, Harry wouldn’t let this stop him.
He dashed straight to the backstage area, not caring if he was caught since he really wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place. Still clutching the toy in his palms, he peeked his head in every room he found only to conclude that it was barren of life, lights switched off and the only sound that echoed was the radio somewhere in the area.
Harry could feel his slim hopes dwindle down the drain. He rested his lumbar on the wooden stage, staring at the Honey the Bear and wondering if it was worth it to miss Halo’s recital for selfish reasons. But was it really selfish?
Halo would have a half-sibling. She would be an older sister. Surely, it wasn’t too selfish of a deed, right?
He sighed lowly. Disappointment showing with the way Harry closed his green eyes in realization. The sound of rolling wheels snapped him out of his destructive thoughts, making contact with the janitor sweeping the dusted floor covered in pink confetti and ruffles. The broom shifted the dirt into one area.
The janitor took note of the paper that Harry held in his hand--his ticket that granted him access to the venue. “A bit late, huh?”
Harry chuckled bitterly at the sarcastic humour. Of course, he was too late, emphasized by the emptiness of the room and the barren reverberation of his voice.
“Just a bit, I guess.”
“Got a lot to make up for, then?” The man asked him, whistling during the pauses they took in the conversation.
Harry nodded, nudging his chin outwards. “S’messy out there, yeah?”
“After every show,”
Harry glanced around at the amount of tidying there was to do, halting suddenly at the row near the stage. He briskly walked over the little ways towards the spot, focusing his gaze on the stickman drawing on the blank paper, moving slightly with the wind.
“Harry”
The label at the centre of the page was capitalized in black marker with stars around his name. Brown circles of curly hair rested on the oblong shaped face that Halo had drawn. His arms, legs and body were thin lines but the smile on the drawings’ face was wide--similar to the one Halo had drawn in her bedroom. The sheet was crumbled, creasing more with the compression of Harry’s grip.
He messed up. Really bad.
With a sleeping Halo nuzzled under the crook of Connor’s arm, the little family cuddle on the soft cushions of the couch with a Barbie Mermaidia movie playing on the screen.
It was only about halfway through the plot when Halo fell asleep. Her hair was freshly washed, smelling like grapefruit and berries. The tendrils of her hair were released from the tight bun which sat at the top of her head for the majority of the night.
Her tired body was exhausted from the activities of the day, begging for relaxation and sleep that came easily with the way her tummy was filled with yummy food. Halo mumbled something in her sleep when the doorbell rang. The loud sound ringing through the house.
Connor hummed in his sleep, shifting his neck to rest more comfortably on the neck of the couch. Y/N rubbed her eyes clearly, checking the time and wondering who could possibly be ringing the doorbell at this hour. She stretched her arms over her head, releasing a sleepy yawn.
She stuffed her feet into her slippers, shuffling the soft footwear towards the front door. Y/N peaked through the hole to find Harry’s face filled with worry. Rolling her eyes, Y/N unlocked the barricade, swinging the door open.
“What do you want?”
“Look, before you say anything,”
Harry paused, looking up at Y/N with a pleading gaze.
“I told you not to hurt her. I told you that you had one chance and you messed that up,”
“I know but I was--” Harry shut his mouth instantly. What was his excuse?
Y/N raised a brow, annoyance wafting from her body language and the firm tone of her voice. “Well?”
He gulped hard, shown by the way his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. “There was traffic. . .”
The woman in front of him laughed humorously, “Oh there was traffic? That’s what you’re going with? You could’ve left your house early, you know?”
He agreed with her, “I know, but I--Camille, s-she told me--”
“Camille?’
Y/N crossed her arms, kicking off the doorframe where she previously rested her body.
Scratching the nape of his neck nervously, Harry meekly responded. “Camille said that she wanted to start a family. She didn’t want to before but she must’ve changed her mind,”
Harry’s usually syrupy speech increased in speed. The information swirling around Y/N’s head as she tried to make sense of what she was hearing. He missed his daughter’s recital for what?
Y/N shook her head to herself. There was absolutely no way that she could get herself to think that Harry was capable of doing that but the facts were stacking up against him.
“Please tell me you didn’t,” She spoke, hating the way a pleading tone was drifting in and out. “Oh God, you did!”
Harry didn’t say anything; he could barely move. He stayed stoic and let his silence do the talking.
“You missed your daughter’s recital to have sex?” Y/N said incredulously, trying to keep her volume down to no wake up the sleeping individuals in the living room. “You’re despicable,”
“Y/N, you have to understand. I just wanted--,” Harry paused, his gaze landing on the small child creeping behind her mum.
Y/N snapped her neck to look behind her, seeing Halo walking over towards them in the chilly night air. “I’m sorry, did Mumma wake you up, bub?” She stroked her head softly, feeling Halo nod.
“Hawwy?”
“Hi, my love,” Harry greeted, crouching down to get closer to her. However, the child moved away from him, hiding behind her mothers’ leg. Harry felt the pinch in his heart at the action.
“You didn’t go,” Halo said, stating the obvious, yet both Harry and Y/N knew that the statement ran deeper beneath the surface. “You pwomised Mumma you’d come. I was waiting fo’ you,”
“I know, baby,” He cooed, “I’m sorry, I didn’t make it, angel. I promise I’ll come to the next one,”
Y/N snickered under her breath, like hell she was inviting him again. Harry stared at her briefly with pain in his eyes.
“Look who I brought,” He revealed Honey the Bear in her sight, giving a smile in hopes that that would make everything better. Halo merely stared at the toy in his hand, a sad pout on her lips. She was even hesitant to make eye contact with Harry.
With a bit of coaxing, Halo took the bear from Harry, inspecting the animal with a careful gaze before throwing it on the dirty ground. Y/N tensed at the action while Harry audibly gasped.
“I don’t want it and I don’t want you!” Halo ran back inside the house, disappearing through the wall that separated the living room.
Harry slowly picked up the dirtied fur, holding it by the clean area. Y/N felt bad for him but she knew that he deserved it. There was only so much she can do to console the child to forgive him and Halo was pretty adamant about not doing so from their talk earlier.
“I hope it was worth it, Harry.”
“No no no, please. Give me one more chance,” Harry slumped his knobby knees on the welcome mat, grasping at Y/N’s exposed ankles from the short stature of her pyjama pants.
Y/N tried to kick him off, but he was insisting. “Get off of me, Harry!”
“Not until you give me another chance. I can fix this,”
“No, you can’t,” Y/N stayed firm, “I made it very clear that if you hurt her, it’s over. And you did. Over what? So you can have sex while Halo spent her time looking for you? Do you know how helpless I felt seeing the way she looked at the door, hoping that you would walk through?”
Harry expected that, but it did not do grace to the guilt that was mounting.
“She fell, Harry. Halo stumbled on her spin and she fell because she saw the empty seats beside me and saw that you weren’t there,”
Harry stood up to his full height, staring at Y/N and waiting for her to tell him that it was all made up. “I-I didn’t mean to,”
“Of course, you didn’t. You never mean anything, do you, Harry?” Y/N stated exasperatedly, “You didn’t mean it when you said you loved me, that we would wed and that we would start a family. You didn’t mean jack-shit when you promised not to hurt Halo--your daughter--but you did. You didn’t mean it then and you don’t mean it now. So please, save both of us the energy because we both know that you’ll break it over and over again,”
“T-that’s not true,”
“Is it not? You hurt me. I’m still hurting from what you did to me and I tried so hard to protect Halo from you. I gave you a chance because I couldn’t take the burden that Halo might never meet her real father and this is what you do?” Y/N closed the door behind her when she took notice of her voice rising.
“All you do is hurt people, Harry! You don’t care about anyone but yourself. You wanted a family so bad that you leave the one you could’ve had to start a new one,”
“That’s bullshit,” Harry said more firmly. “You would’ve never let me back into your life and you know it,”
“That’s not the point! I wanted you to be present in her life, not mine,” Y/N coughed a little, lifting a balled fist towards her mouth, “We have a child together for God’s sake. I love you, Harry. I still do and I don’t think I’ll ever stop because every time I look at Halo, I’m reminded of you. The good, the bad, the happy and painful memories. I can see it all playing in my head when she looks at me with those big green eyes or gives me a smile and your dimple pops into my mind,”
Y/N sighed, “I love you but I know my limit. I wanted you around for Halo, and now--I understand why we would have never worked out. You’re too selfish,”
“Selfish? That’s hardly fair, love. I tried my best, didn’t I?”
“That’s not enough. You’re too enthralled by the idea of this perfect family that you run back and forth between Halo and I or Camille. When the other doesn’t play out the way that you want, you change gears so fast to the other. That’s selfish in and of itself.”
Y/N lingered her hand on the golden doorknob, twisting the mechanic to open the door. “You can’t just leave when things don’t go your way, Harry. That’s not how it works.”
“What does?” Harry stuttered out.
“That’s not how love works,” Y/N smiled sadly, looking into his eyes as if trying to take him back to their relationship years prior. “That’s not how a family works.”
Harry’s expression crumpled, wrinkled his eyes and dampened his rosy cheeks.
“I hope you find your happiness one day, Harry. It wasn’t with me and it’s not with Halo. Wherever it is, don’t mess it up as you did with us.”
Harry was rendered speechless.
His mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. The arm of Honey the Bear dangling from his fingertips as he watched the door shut behind her.
Over the years, Harry had tried desperately to get in contact with Y/N and Halo. All he wanted was his family back. His relationship with Camille was spiralling down the drain with each passing day, dwindling hopelessly, and Harry felt helpless.
He had overheard that Y/N and Connor had moved houses-- somewhere a few miles away. He had persuaded her old landlady to give him her forwarding address, and he had flown out that very weekend. He wanted his family back-- no, he desperately needed them.
He doesn't know what exactly he's expecting when he shows up at the doorstep, but Y/N's harsh tone of voice and unwelcoming demeanour was not it. He had hoped-- prayed, that there might be a sliver of a chance that she might forgive him; that Halo might forgive him. He hadn't seen the little girl since that night; Y/N hadn't allowed it.
"Come here again and there will be a restraining order sitting on your doorstep, Harry, I promise you that. And unlike some people, I keep my promises."
"A restraining order--? Y/N that's not fair!"
"Take it up legally if you'd like. Want to have a custody battle? Bring it on. Let's see whose side the judge is on after they find out that you cheated on me while I was pregnant with Halo."
"I didn't know you were bloody pregnant, dammit!" He yelled, tears pooling in his eyes.
"Oh wow! That makes it all better! You didn't know I was pregnant so you cheated on me. Nice. Great going, Harry!"
"Please for heaven's SAKE stop fucking calling me that!"
"Get out, Harry. Leave. I don't want you here. She doesn't either. And if you think I'm joking about getting a restraining order-- think again. I'm serious. Do not come near my daughter."
"She's my daughter too!," He all but shouted, "you can't keep her away from me!"
"Watch me."
And with that, she slams the door shut in his face, ignoring his incessant knocking and pleading through the wooden panel.
It was years later.
It was a cold February morning, and Harry was fresh out of a hot shower, and he put on a woollen jumper to keep from freezing.
The weather was distasteful, dull and cold, but a smile pulled on Harry's lips. It was her birthday. His little girl's birthday. So what if he hadn't seen her in 10 years? So what if Y/N hadn't spoken to him in a decade? Tears stung in his eyes at the thought that he was missing yet another of his baby girl's birthdays. Except, she wasn't really a baby anymore. She turned 13 today.
There was nobody on the planet he felt more love for than that little girl, of that he was certain.
So when Harry sat down with his letter pad and ink pen, his thoughts drifted to the short span of time he had spent with her. He reminisced on her sweet smile, the tiny dimple that carved into her cheek. Her tiny lips quirked into open-mouthed laughter. He walked to his closet and picked up Honey the Bear from among his clothes.
"Hi," he grinned, talking to the bear as if he were 5.
He sat the bear in his lap and sat at his dining table, and began to write. To his daughter, his little love. He knew that a letter wouldn't make up for what he'd put her through. He didn't even know if he was going to send her this letter, or if Y/N would let her read it.
But what's the harm in trying?
From 'Hawwy',
Hi, my love
______
Reading this again brought a lot of emotions to the surface
#harry styles imagine#Harry styles one shot#harry styles x reader#harry styles fanfiction#Harry styles x you#Harry styles angst#harry styles x blurb#harry styles
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The Bad Batch: Soft Universe
Chapter One - Just like you.
Sudden waves of calm sent drastic waves throughout the Havoc Marauder, the newly dubbed Attack Shuttle that five advanced clones called home along with a smaller clone, a child with pure generation I DNA who also called the ship her home.
The calm waves were well welcomed among those within the ship, they had only just completed a mission that had been given to them by Cid, a rather dangerous mission at that. Yes, they were used to blaster fire, it was in their blood to adjust to it.
They were literally made to contribute their own blue fire to intertwine and drown out the blazing red bullets that threatened many on an unfortunate daily basis. Despite how they were made, every clone needed a break after a while, especially the young clone - or so they had thought anyway.
"That was Amazing!" Omega Squealed, rushing over to the others who had thrown themselves into their assigned seats in the cockpit absolutely drained after their Solid twelve hour mission. "Don't you guys think So too?" She took a Sharp breath in, channelling her energy through her legs as she rushed to each individual member of the batch. "You were all so Cool! And did you see me with my bow? I'm getting so much better at it, aren't I crosshair?" Her large eyes darted toward crosshair who was currently slumped against his chair, a new toothpick against his teeth.
"I Suppose so." He mumbled, looking away from her energy filled eyes and focusing on the calmer view of the billions of Stars that littered the Space before them. Omega's previous smile Somehow got even bigger at Crosshair 's mumbled praise.
"You did great, kid!" Wrecker beamed, going toward Omega and patting her back with a lot less force compared to the other members, but due to her Small size she still stumbled a little which caused a laugh to leave her lips. "And it's the end of the mission so you know what that means!" She practically became the beaming twin Suns of Tatooine at this point.
"Mantell Mix!" She Shrieked, bouncing in her Place as Wrecker laughed at her enthusiasm. Suddenly Hunter chimed in, turning around in his chair and rubbing his head, the Previous mission leaving him with a Simple patch of bacta on his arm and an absolute killer headache due to the planet's atmosphere messing with his senses.
"Is Mantell Mix really the best idea with Omega?" His voice chimed in, "She's already excited enough I don't think Sugar will help." Omega and Wrecker Stared sadly toward their Squads leader, Pouting a little at his disapproval.
"But it's tradition!" Wrecker intersected, a bouncing omega next to him clinging to his side to encourage him to change his mind, they just had to have their Mantell Mix It was the only option. "And it makes the kid happy." Hunter let out a Sigh, rubbing his head a little more and giving them both a rather Persistent gaze.
"Are you sure it's just the kid that makes it happy?" He asked, referencing Wrecker who's eyes always lit up at the sight of the sweet tasting treat, he just crossed his arms in response though.
"The Mantell mix should be fine, She seems to be experiencing an adrenaline rush due to the intensity of the Mission." Tech Paused for a moment, fiddling with the datapad that laid within his grip. "Symptoms may include a rapid heart rate, Sweating, heightened senses and of course the most obvious ones of rapid breathing, decreased ability to feel pain and what's intriguing is there's actually an increase of Strength and performance - hence her bow Skills seemed to improve rather drastically during that mission." Tech paused again to type a little into his datapad browsing through the various load of knowledge before making eye contact with a fidgety Omega, still bouncing on her feet. "Oh and of course, the most prominent symptom in Omega is feeling jittery or nervous and can't Sit Still. It helps the excess energy I presume." Wrecker had of course stopped listening half way through, but was a little Worried about their Omega. It was a very chaotic and tough mission, they had a few close calls which probably made things worse if She didn't have enough adrenaline already rushing through her tiny body, the other clones could handle it though due to their training and they were a lot bigger compared to her, hence the numbed effect on them.
"Yeah yeah." Wrecker rushed, "Can she have the Mantell Mix or not?"
"In Short- Yes." Tech replied, shutting off his computer and turning back in his seat to set the Marauders Coordinates. A large cheer shattered the Previously Soothing Silence followed by a Soft wince from Hunter, his headache presumably worse.
"When are we landing!" She rushed Over to the control panels, desperate to do Something to get them there quicker.
"Woah there kid," Echo gently lifted her up, Moving her away from the control panel and gently placing her next to Hunter, "We'll be there soon. Why don't you rest up for now?" Once Echo's gentle grip left her, She moved into Hunter's arms in what appeared to be a protest.
"But I'm not tired!" All of the nightmare training they had to endure never prepared them to care for a child, so whenever she protested It was always a shock. Soldiers were made to follow orders but what they kept forgetting was that she isn't a soldier, she's just a child.
"You will be once the adrenaline leaves your system." Tech warned, "I Suggest you leave to rest now ready for another day of adventuring." She signed and nodded, her excitement already beginning to leave being replaced with a rapid heart rate and a lot of sudden anxiety which caused her to shuffle further into Hunter's arms.
"Yeah, okay." Omega agreed, gently holding onto Hunter's arm as he gave her a small smile, it was late anyway. They'd arrive by morning which meant that they could go Straight to Cids to retrieve their Credits and quite possibly their next mission. Hunter soon stood, softly holding her smaller hand and guiding her to her room aboard their ship. Pulling back the grey curtains, a small room was awakened with stars being shown among the large window. It was a tight fit, but it was worth losing the space so Omega could have her own room. She slowly climbed up the ladder, her eyes always fixating on the orange glow of the fairy lights hanging around the room. She always looked at the soothing tone before searching beneath her blankets to find her clone doll and Lula. Once both toys were securely in her arms, she smiled softly at Hunter, shuffling herself into the blankets and the bigger sleeping bag that lay in the centre of the room so when she laid down against the pillow, she could roam her eyes among the stars.
"Are you comfortable?" His voice whispered, chuckling gently at her small body bombarded with blankets.
"Yeah!" She smiled in return, a sleepy haze replacing her previously energetic gaze. Hunter noticed her heart race was starting to drop quite quickly and her breathing had begun to slow itself down, the adrenaline rush Tech had previously mentioned was definitely starting to wear off. "But can you stay for a little while?"
"How come?" He questioned, sitting on the edge of her room with his familiar grin. "You're supposed to be sleeping." She sighed a little, clinging to her clone doll and staring at him with those curious eyes he could just never say no to.
"But I want to hear more stories about you and the others!" A pout formed on her lips, a pang of guilt filling Hunter for even wanting to leave. "But if you don't want to tell me then that's okay! I'll ask Tech." An instant gasp left his lips as he remembered the last eight times he had woken during the night to find Tech sitting with Omega and rambling about the variety of planets there are, missions, the past and pretty much anything she could think of. She's a curious girl and that always interrupted her sleep Cycle - her racing mind never stopped and Tech was the only one who could keep up and enjoyed doing so.
"Fine, okay." He chuckled, secretly loving to tell her stories about her brothers. "Did I ever tell you about our missions during the clone Wars?" She shook her head, gazing at him with wide eyes. "We were assigned to help assist Anakin Skywalker and Rex to find Echo."
"Anakin Skywalker?" She asked, tilting her head at this newly learnt name.
"He was a Jedi and a great commander, but obviously we were better and cooler." He paused to clear his throat, "Anyway…" Hunter continued to jumble on about how they fought and how each enhanced skills helped them on that mission that surprisingly went amazingly well.
"Hunter?" A sleepy voice asked toward the end of his story, a little surprised that she interrupted a story - this must be important. "What's my enhanced skill?" She questioned, squeezing Lula close to her chest. In all honesty, he had absolutely no idea What her skill was, only that she had pure first generation DNA from Jango Fett which was pretty fascinating, but a skill like theirs? He was stumped.
"Well you're getting great with your bow now Omega!" He grinned, remembering how much the accuracy of the shots she took had improved rather significantly. Hunter was definately proud, just like the rest of the Bad Batch were.
"No." She whined, sitting up a little. "What's my enhanced skill like everyone else has?" Omega paused for a moment, a worried yet sleepy gaze coating her eyes. "Don't I have one?"
"I'm not sure, kid." His eyes lit up as he smiled, "Why don't we find out soon?" She nodded with a big grin plastered along her face. "Now get some sleep ready for that, Okay?" In return he got a smaller smile and a nod as she snuggled herself back dawn with her two toys, almost instantly falling asleep before a gentle sentence left the bundle of soft blankets.
"Goodnight Hunter." A soft voice whispered before finally falling into a deeper sleep, unknowing to Hunter's next words.
"Goodnight, Ad'ika." Hunter softly drew the curtain to the room filled with a soft orange glow, blocking it out before walking toward the others and sitting back into his chair with a sigh. Staring forward, he allowed the passing planets to fill his mind as to what memories he had made at the ones he and the rest of the batch had visited. Many of course not among the greatest circumstances but memories nonetheless. Wrecker soon stood and Stretched with an abrupt yawn.
"I'm getting Pretty tired, who's on first watch anyway?" The brothers gazed around at each other, eyes eventually falling toward Tech for an answer as he had always been the one to memorise their sleep cycles and plan out a well organised chedule on who would take watch and when.
"According to my calculations, Echo will be the first to keep watch followed by me, Wrecker, Crosshair followed by Hunter. Is that satisfactory to you all still?" A mumble of sleepy nods were shared in response as Wrecker smiled and moved toward their shared bunks.
"I'll be off then!" He spoke, unable to suppress his yawn as he wandered away to prepare for bed.
"Are you all heading off now then? I think it's best to sleep now for the day we'll probably have tomorrow." Echo spoke, replacing himself with Tech in the pilot's seat, ensuring he was comfortable. The others had agreed and shared their various goodnights and moved away to their bunks, settling down and Just like Omega had, they all drifted off to sleep- replenishing their energy for the morning.
Hours had passed to the stage in the sleep cycle where Crosshair was keeping watch, his feet thrown by the controls which he knew Tech wasn't awake to see so it didn't really matter. He was pretty relaxed chewing against his toothpick, adjusting to himself functioning awake. Crosshair had always struggled to keep the physical effects of steep at bay once he had awoken but don't think for a second that it dampened his skill. What had startled him though were the soft footsteps behind him followed by a very gentle voice that followed.
"Crosshair?" Omega whispered, "Are you awake?" Removing his feet from the control panel, much to sleeping Tech's glee, he turned in the chair to see a rather tense looking Omega Clinging to both her doll and Lula. Great,he'd rather deal with blaster fire then with a kid's problems. Maybe that was a lie, but regardless he wasnt really experienced with kids and he didn't want to mess her up like he felt he was.
"Yeah, kid." He spoke, voice thinned out and a little tierd. "What do you want?"
"I don't think I feel great." Her voice mumbled, "My heart feels fast and my mind won't let me sleep." He sighed a little knowing he'd have to take care of the worried child before him, he seemed cold-hearted to everyone around him but he knew his brothers know that that isn't the case. He supposed this was his chance to let his little sister know that too.
"Anything on your mind?" He asked, trying to rid his voice of the sour tune that he had grown accustomed to using. She seemed rather lonely shuffling on her feet, gripping her toys closer to her chest.
"I think I'm nervous about tomorrow…" Crosshair gave a soft gesture to let her know that it was okay to carry on, he was there. "Hunter promised me that he'd help me try to find my enhanced Skill! I really want one so I can be more like you guys. That way I can be more helpful too!" Omega drew a sharp breath inward, "But what if I don't have one? What if i'm even less helpful because of it. What if I'm not like my big brothers?" Her smaller Kamonian thick accent began to shake as a bundle more 'what ifs' left her mouth.
"Hey," Crosshair interrupted, a shot of genuine physical pain shooting through his heart at the tears which began to loom over her usually bright and hopeful eyes. "No more What if's. You're always going to be apart of this team with or without an enhanced skill. We may not find it Straight away if you do have one, but even if you don't have one it's nothing to get worked up about." His attempt to soothe her didn't work the way he had wanted it to, but she did seem calmer than before. "You'll do fine, kid." Something amongst his heart encouraged him to open his arms despite everything in his mind telling him to just make her go back to bed. Before he could gain control of his half-awake mind, his arms had opened and those words left his mouth. "Go back to bed, Ad'ika." Omega had thrown herself into his arms, hugging him tightly with the doll and Lula present. He thought that he should feel embarrased or angry - but if anything he just felt a wave of pride wash over him. She wanted to be like them? Even after everything that had happened? For Sure She had a very compassionate and empathetic heart, but he didn't think that it was as Strong as this.
"I want to stay with you." Her muffled voice mumbled as she gently climbed to sit on his lap clearly in a sleepy and stressed out daze. Crosshair didn't respond to her heart-filling request as he watched Hunter gently approach by them both. Both brothers Shared a understanding nod, eventhough Crosshairs was a little hesitant. He didn't mind holding his little sister for longer, but she needed her sleep. She was overtierd and anxious enough. Hunter lifted Omega Softly from Crosshairs arms as the sniper dusted himself off returning to taking watch until she was back in bed. Luckily, Omega had already fallen asleep against Crosshair, so Hunter putting her back to bed was no problem at all. Once he returned, he stood behind his brother.
"Thanks, you can head back to bed now." Hunter hummed, taking the freed Seat as Crosshair left with a soft mumble and scrowl as per usual. Once he was out of sight, he leant back with a gentle sigh knowing how upset she'd be without an enhanced Skill of her own. Though at this point, he was pretty certain it was stratedgy. Things would become clearer by morning though, he knew Tech may be able to find out before she woke. "All in due time." he mumbled softly, waiting for the planet they were waiting to land on to appear, desperate to get their credits. This wouldn't take too long, they'd find out soon doing anything to make his Ad'ika happy.
#Omega#the bad batch#Tbb#Clone Force 99#Starwars#Star wars#Fanfiction#Hunter#Tech#Crosshair#Wrecker#Echo#Badbatch#Just like you
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>Open the Doctor’s File
Doc: Receive an Invitation
The conference room was small and sparsely decorated, little more than a round table and a handful of chairs in an empty room. The walls were bare, the table empty, and the window that looked out into the hallways covered by blinds.
The window that looked out onto the street, to the east, may as well have been covered too. The only thing visible when you looked out was the greyish hue of smog.
Doc sat in the chair closest to the door on the east side of the table. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his feet were up on the table. He knew his attempt at nonchalance wasn’t fooling anybody, but it didn’t hurt to try.
Etho sat to his right, leaned over the table and absently spinning a rubix cube in his hands. Every so often he’d scramble it and then solve it quickly afterward, seeming slightly disappointed. His left eye was covered in a plain black eyepatch that wasn’t quite big enough to cover the extent of the scarring.
Bdubs sat on Etho’s other side, the drumming of his fingers on the table and the way his eyes flickered from one side of the room to the other every couple of seconds the only things betraying the amount of nervous energy contained inside him.
Beef sat in the last chair on their side of the table, staring at the covered interior window as if he could see through the blinds and into the hallways behind it. His face was expressionless, apparently lost in thought.
No one spoke.
It was the kind of silence they had sat in many times before- part comfort, of being around people who know you better than almost anyone else in the world, and part anxious anticipation. None of them knew exactly what was going to come next.
They had been contacted individually a week or two ago, letters that had no return address slipped under doors or through mail slots. What usually would have been some sort of threat or insult turned out to be a job interview opportunity.
Come to a certain building two weeks from now, the letters read. Tell the receptionist that you’re looking for refuge. Someone will be in to see you shortly.
The most paranoid of the group (Beef) had found out that it was sent by some sort of government official or organization before he contacted the rest of the group to see if they had received the same summons. After a brief discussion, a decision was reached. They would hear out whoever wanted to talk to them.
If things went down badly… as long as they were together they would be able to fight their way out.
Most of the invitation had been true. They found the correct address, and were taken to a room when they asked for refuge… but the person that they were waiting for had not come shortly. It felt like they had been waiting for an eternity- even though his internal clock told him it had only been about twenty minutes.
Ten more minutes, he decided, and then he would leave. If whoever the hell wanted to talk to them was going to be late, they should have told the receptionist to tell them or something. It was basic human decency- although admittedly that did seem to be in short supply these days.
The door handle turned with a click, and four pairs of eyes locked onto it immediately. There was a moment of nothing, and then the door swung open, letting a relatively tall brunette man into the room.
His hair was tied back in a neat ponytail, all brown except for a single streak of white from a large x-shaped scar that stretched across most of his face. It was an old scar, very faded, the chunks of white in his hair and his beard some of the only things left to prove that it was there.
He looked slightly winded as he smiled, shutting the door behind him. “Hello, gentlemen. Sorry about the wait. There was a bit of a… conflict. Downstairs, and I ended up having to sort it out.”
He walked over to the table pulling off his gloves and unwrapping his respirator from around his neck before sitting down across from Etho and folding his hands together. “So. You all actually came.”
“Did you expect us not to?” Beef asked, eyeing him warily, apparently not recognizing him.
“Of course not! A government official contacting you out of nowhere, asking you to come and meet them? The fact that you have enough faith in humanity to come here, despite everything, without knowing anything about why you’re being asked here… it’s amazing.” He grinned.
“Amazing is one word for it, sure.” Bdubs said, leaning forward in his chair. “But uh, who are you, and why exactly are we here?”
“If you’re going to try to kill us, we’ll give you a thirty second head start.” Doc added dryly. “But no more than that.”
The man chuckled. “We’re not trying to kill you, we’re trying to offer you a job.”
A job?
Before Doc could express his hesitation, the man continued, putting a hand to his chest:
“My name is Xisuma Void, Captain Void to most people, but you can call me X. I’m putting together a crew.”
“Like a boat crew?” Bdubs asked, brow furrowing slightly.
“A spaceship crew. I’ve been given a mission- go to uncharted territory, chart it, and start a colony on a planet outside the solar system.” He extended his hands in front of him, gesturing to the team. “I’d like you to come with me.”
For a moment, there was silence.
“…What’s the catch?” Etho asked slowly.
“Catch?” Xisuma asked.
“We’re not from here.” Etho said, and Beef chuckled. “There’s always a catch.”
Xisuma shook his head slowly. “I don’t think… well… how about I just tell you what the job would entail before we decide if there’s a catch or not?”
Doc looked across the table to the others. Bdubs nodded, Beef shrugged, and Etho set down the rubix cube for the first time since he had gotten into the room. X took that as permission to continue.
“Do you remember all those stories in the news about the government funneling money into a secret project?” X asked.
“And everybody was worried that it was gonna be another war.” Bdubs said. “We remember.”
“They were building a ship for this mission. It’s been in progress for years now, but they’ve ramped up construction in the past several months. The ship will be fully built in three months, and the mission will begin no sooner than six months from now.” Xisuma stood, either ignoring or not noticing the way that the rest of the group tensed when he moved, and began to pace up and down the length of the table. “The ship- the Refuge- will exit the solar system in about one and a half years, and then it’ll be four and a half to eight and a half years til we reach Haven.”
“Haven?” Doc interjected. “That’s the planet?”
X nodded.
“Bit on the nose, don’t you think?” Bdubs asked.
X shrugged, not pausing in his pacing. “I wasn’t the one that named it.”
“So what do you want us to do?” Beef asked. “None of us have ever been to space before. Sure, Etho may have been… built for it, but…”
“You don’t have to worry about the space stuff.” X said, stopping and leaning on the back of the chair he had been sitting in. “Just the landing part of the mission. The way that this is set up, there are two smaller groups within the crew as a whole- the ship crew and the colony crew. While the ship crew will transition into being a part of the colony crew once we land, the colony crew doesn’t have to be a part ship crew. It’s unnecessary, and most of the crew mates don’t have essential skills for the trip.”
“So what does the colony crew do during the flight?” Beef asked, his brow furrowed.
“Sleep.” X responded. “We have two cryogeneticists on the crew that will be maintaining and caring for frozen personnel and assets.”
“Which one would we be?” Doc asked.
X looked uncomfortable, as if he didn’t know whether the question was a joke or not. “Personnel… in total, if you decide to take me up on the offer, we’ll have nine people frozen out of a crew of thirty six. Most of the ship can be run mechanically, but we still need the ship crew to oversee everything.”
“And what would we be doing when we get planet-side? What’s our actual job going to be?” Bdubs asked.
“Building, scouting surrounding areas, neutralizing any potential threats, whatever needs to be done, really.” X sighed. “Unfortunately, since a mission like this has never been attempted before, I can’t tell you exactly what we’re going to need you to do. If you accept, I can give you the paperwork that runs through several potential scenarios, but… there’s a lot that we just don’t know.”
“I’m not going to ask you to sign on immediately, but I’d like your responses as soon as possible.” X concluded. “There’s a packet with the receptionist downstairs that has more information-“
“I’ll do it.” Bdubs said, cutting him off.
X blinked. “What?”
“I’ll do it.” He repeated, leaning back in his chair. “It sounds exciting, it’s a chance to travel somewhere without risking being carsick, it’s getting away from everything that’s going on here… and we’re probably not gonna get another chance at this for at least six years, right?”
X nodded.
“I can’t speak for the guys, obviously, but you’ve got one.”
“I’m in too.” Doc decided, taking his feet off the table and sitting up straight. “There’s not a whole hell of a lot for me to do here, not many people that want me here, and somebody’s gotta make sure you don’t get yourself killed.” He said, pointing a vaguel accusatory finger at Bdubs, who rolled his eyes. “I still want the packet, but I’m in.”
X grinned. “Wonderful! And… I suppose, do you want to make your decision now too?” He turned his attention to Beef and Etho.
“I’ll agree… but I reserve the right to change my mind if we start getting ready and things seem off.” Etho said, picking his rubix cube back up and spinning it on its corner. “I may have been made for space travel, but they kept me grounded for a reason.”
“I agree with Etho, minus the spaceman bit.” Beef said. “Also, can we have your phone number, or some way to contact you?”
Xisuma’s grin turned into a softer, warmer smile. “Everything that you’ll need is going to be in the packets. Welcome to the team, gentlemen.”
Computer: Input Command: Show Available Files:
> Open the Pilot’s File
> Open the Doctor’s File (New)
> Continue
#the peril the wind sings to in the wires // doc#doc#etho#bdubs#beef#xisuma#long post ((read more to be added later))#refuge au#refuge arg#hermitcraft refuge arg#hermitcraft refuge au#hermitcraft au#refuge update#hermitcraft arg#command input needed#NHO#prologue
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