#bad habit

[ifancyharry]

Routine - Bad Habit (3)

in which YN spends the night - officially - for the first time, but Harry's daughter isn't really happy about that; fluff; angst; smut; dad!harry

wc: 5.9k

can be read as a stand alone, but if you want to understand more read Bad Habit (1) and (2)

“Hi.” Harry greets her as soon as he opens the door, smiling the same smile YN has been in love with since she was 20 years old. 

“Hi.” She repeats his word as a form of greeting, and despite the shortness of it, nothing needs to be added, because the excitement they both transpire can be felt in the air between them. 

This would be the first time YN officially spent the night. Of course, she’d stayed over many times in the two months they had been dating, but never officially. She’d always leave before Aidi could find her tangled in Harry’s sheets, and it had been fine at first. She hated waking up early, but she’d do whatever she could to reassure Aidi’s well being.

YN doesn’t know why all of a sudden Harry was eager to invite her over. He told her he felt ready, and she had felt excited despite feeling the fear of how his daughter would react. 

Harry told her that he wouldn’t tell her right away, YN would just stay over and they’d see from there how it went. Of course, his nonchalance hadn’t gone unnoticed by YN, that on the other hand felt nervous about it all and would’ve much rather he told Aidi she would at least spend the night. But, she figured, she wasn’t a parent, and she couldn’t possibly know what was best for Aidi, so she had agreed to follow his plan with enthusiasm. 

“Everything okay?” He asks when he sees she hasn’t moved from her spot.

“Just a little bit nervous” she shrugs, tightening the grip around the handle of her duffle bag.

“I see I still have tha’ effect on yah?” He chuckles, opening his lips in a teasing smirk.

“Shut up! ‘S not because of you” 

“I know” he says, and his eyes soften at the sight of the girl in front of him, all shy and anxious about something that he thinks is so natural. “‘M just teasing. Everything’s gonna be okay” 

She sighs at his words and takes a step closer to him, “ugh, I know… just want it to be perfect”

“‘S already perfect with you here” he smiles, grabbing her upper arm and tugging her closer to him. He circles her back with his arm and squeezes her against his chest, holding her tight in a soothing embrace.

“You’re perfect” she sighs once again, inhaling the pleasing scent of his fabric softener lingering on his hoodie. 

YN still can’t believe he is hers.

“C’mon let’s go inside, yeah?” 

“Mmhmm” she nods against the fabric of his sweatshirt.

Once Harry closes the front door behind him, he takes YN’s duffle bag from her hands and tells her to follow him upstairs. 

“Where’s Aidi?” She asks.

“In her room” 

“Is she… does she know I’m here?” 

She watches as he nods his head, and she wonders for a moment if there’s something wrong going on. Is Aidi upset? Is it too soon? 

“Harry…” she whispers once they enter his room, “maybe it’s too soon. We should have-“ 

“YN.” He interrupts her, a serious look adorning his gentle features, “I told you already everything is fine.”

“Okay” she nods doubtfully, not really convinced by his words.

He tosses her bag on his bed and after he turns around to face her. He takes her hand in his and squeezes it to reassure her. He knows how she is. How much she worries, but that’s the very same reason why he’s so sure about this. He knows she cares about Aidi very much, and he thinks she’ll be good for his daughter, even if it takes her some time getting used to having another person around more. 

YN follows Harry out of his room, and, once they reach Aidi’s door, she watches as he gently knocks on it. 

“Aidi?” He asks, opening the door and peeking his head inside. “Hi bug” he says softly, and YN feels herself melt at the interaction. He’s so gentle, so sweet. He makes her feel warm, like the first spring sun shining on her skin after a cold winter.

He opens the door wider and YN spots Aidi laying on her bed, her ballerina bunny squeezed under her chin. She lights up as soon as she sees her dad, and she nods timidly when Harry asks her if she was asleep.

“I was really tired, daddy” she mumbles, knuckling at her eyes sleepily. 

“Tha’s okay” he reassures. “‘S almost time to eat dinner” 

YN watches from the door jamb, unsure on what to do. She doesn’t want to interfere in their moment, still feeling a bit unease at the situation.

“Do you want to say hi to YN?” Harry asks when Aidi gets up from the bed. 

She shakes her head no. “I already said at school”.

YN bites hard on her bottom lip. She knew it would be hard. 

Harry furrows his brows and looks at his daughter, confused by her behavior. She loves YN. She always talks about how nice she is and how she’s so happy she’s his friend so he doesn’t really know where this is coming from. He figures she’s just grumpy from being woken up. 

YN, on the other hand, thinks this is going to be harder than they thought. 

…

It’s a little bit later in the evening, and despite the abrupt start, things seem calmer now. Aidi had played with her dolls while she watched cartoons on the tv, and YN had helped Harry with setting the table for dinner. 

She thinks it’s nice. Settling into a routine and sharing it with them. She’s always been kind of alone, and she’s always thought of herself as more of a loner, but maybe she’s been wrong all along and this is where she was actually destined to be. 

“Aidi?” Harry calls from inside the kitchen.

YN smiles fondly once she sees Aidi walking towards them with a pep in her step, she seems fine, until Harry asks her what she wants to eat, because nothing seems of her liking. 

“Noooo daddy I don’ like that!” she protests when Harry shows her the package of pasta he intended on cooking.

“But you’ve always liked it! You looove when granny makes it for yah!” 

“Yeah” she gives him a firm nod, “but yeh’re not granny” 

YN has to refrain herself from laughing at them. She wonders if she’s like this everyday or she’s putting on a show just because she’s there. 

“Uggh fine, then. How about…” he looks through the cupboard to see what other thing he could cook, he picks up another package of pasta, shaped like butterflies this time, and holds it in front of her, but Aidi shakes her head disgusted once again.

He moves toward the fridge then, taking out some chicken and showing it to her, but “noooo” she protests. 

“Wha’s gotten into yah!” He sighs discouraged.

“I’m sorry” he mouths to YN, to which she replies with a knowing smile.

Harry opens the door to the freezer and YN spots a package of chicken nuggets inside, and she points to them trying to hide her gesture from Aidi, not sure whether she could eat that kind of food.

“She usually doesn’t like them” he shrugs, but when he takes out the package to show it to her, Aidi starts jumping excitedly in her place, “yes! Yes! Daddy want them, pleaseee”.

“But-“ he’s about to protest, but he feels it’s actually pointless to argue with a child, so he sighs and: “fine!”

“Make them crispyyy please daddy” she says seriously, but when YN erupts in an uncontrolled laughter, Aidi starts giggling too. 

Harry joins in on their laughter, but his is more of a disbelieving one, amazed by his daughter’s behavior.

Once dinner is ready, Harry, YN and Aidi all sit at the small table in the living room.

Harry fills his and YN’s glasses with the most prestigious red wine he had, and he serves first Aidi (the chicken nuggets with looots of ketchup), then YN (the special pasta his mother taught him to make and that’s the only fancy thing he knows how to make — but, honestly, YN was fine with everything. Even if it meant eating dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets).

The air around them is quiet, there’s a comfortable silence between them, and YN feels happy. Like she belongs. She looks at Aidi tenderly when she hears the quiet humming of what she recognizes is a cartoon’s theme song, and she watches as the little girl dips her nugget in what seems to be way too much ketchup for only a small piece, and when YN raises her glance from Aidi’s plate, she realizes Harry is looking at her with one of the softest looks on his face she’s ever seen. He smiles sweetly at her, but, as opposed to how he used to always avert his gaze when they were still in college — embarrassed she’d catch on the crush he’d always had on her, he doesn’t look away. 

‘What?’ She mouths, worried she might have something on her face or that he wants to tell her something without his daughter hearing, but he just shakes his head.

‘Pretty’ he mouths back, and his eyes do that thing YN loves, they twinkle like the brightest of the lights, the warmest shade of green she’s ever seen, like the grass on a chilly spring day, the feeling of seeing a bit of color after months of whiteness. 

She bushes and looks down at her plate, still not used to his cheeky compliments. 

After dinner, Harry takes out of the fridge the ice cream YN had brought, and when he opens it, he smiles fondly when he realizes she picked Aidi’s favorite flavors: chocolate and strawberry. In the same bag, there’s another tub of ice cream, much smaller, and when he opens it, to his surprise, he sees his favorite flavor: mint chocolate chip. 

He knows now she remembers their ice cream runs after a long day of studying, but he’s genuinely surprised she would after so many years, and he thinks it feels nice. It’s nice having someone take care of you, even if it only means picking up your and your daughter’s favorite flavors of ice cream.

He comes back in the living room with the ice cream and three small bowls, and he places them on the table.

“Look what YN got you!” He smiles excitedly, hoping to spark some excitement in his daughter, since she’d been pretty quiet all throughout dinner. 

“Ice cream!” She lights up, but when Harry shows her the flavors, she makes a disgusted face and pushes the tub out of her face.

“I don’t like chocolate” 

YN, that had watched the encounter proudly, feels her face fall. She thoroughly remembers Aidi loves chocolate ice cream. She’d told her many times in class, and it was what she had asked that day Harry forgot to pick her up and YN had brought her to eat ice cream to distract her. Maybe she remembers wrong? She feels herself panic inside, because how could she have gotten it wrong! She’d been so careful while picking. 

“But ’s your favorite!” Harry stresses, his brows furrowing on his forehead. 

YN feels a little bit relieved at his words. At least she hadn’t gotten it wrong. 

“No, it’s not” she shakes her head, grimacing.

“I’m so sorry, YN. I don’t know wha’s gotten into her” he apologizes, sitting back down in his chair, his shoulder sagging, he feels undefeated. 

There’s no way Aidi doesn’t like chocolate ice cream, because he remembers she ate it two days before at his sister’s house, but he chooses not to tell YN that to not aggravate the situation more. He knows this is silly, because it’s just ice cream, but it’s then he realizes maybe everything isn’t okay and Aidi isn’t comfortable with having YN here.

He’s unsure on what to do, feeling conflicted about the situation. 

He knows he should put his daughter’s feelings before his, but he also cares about YN, and he doesn’t want to push her away. 

“Harry” he hears YN interrupt his train of thoughts, “maybe I remembered wrong. It’s no problem at all! Do you like mint chip?” She asks Aidi the last part, and her voice is soft.

Aidi nods, “’s daddy’s favorite” 

YN smiles at her and then throws a quick glance at Harry, “really? You both have great taste then! You share that with your daddy and I’ll eat the other one, okay?” 

“Okay” Aidi nods once again and leans forward on the table to pick up the tub of ice cream. She shows it to Harry to signal she wants it in the bowl, and he consents quietly. 

Harry — too — realizes this is going to be harder than he thought.

…

Harry feels bad. Tonight hasn’t been what he thought, at all. 

He had planned in his mind all the nice and fun things he wanted to do with both YN and Aidi, and maybe, he realizes just now, he had been wrong to assume Aidi wanted to do that. He understands it’s always been them. Since she was born, it’s always been the two of them, tucked away safely in the walls of their home, and Harry understands how she could feel now that YN is here as well.

He just feels bad, because he’d like to do some of those things with YN too. He’d like to eat breakfast with them, he’d like to watch a movie and cuddle them both under his arms, he’d like to kiss both of them goodnight, he’d like to snuggle with them in his bed until it’s inevitably time to get up. But how can he? Aidi is little, and she doesn’t understand what it means to share. 

“What are you thinkin’ about?” He hears YN gently ask, and he shifts his gaze from the tv to her.

Aidi wanted to watch the new Little Mermaid movie (her favorite of the week), and she had demanded her daddy watched too. YN hadn’t minded, and she sat contently next to them, but only half an hour into the movie, Aidi had fallen asleep against Harry’s chest, his shirt crumbled between her little fingers as she held onto him, almost scared he’d leave her to sleep alone. 

Harry leans his head on the backrest of the couch, he then turns it and looks at YN fondly. She’s so pretty now, her hair frame her face perfectly, and the glasses on her nose make her face look softer. 

He shakes his head, wary of what she could say if he voiced his thoughts aloud, and when he sees her brows close in a furrow, he averts his gaze, his face facing the ceiling as he closes his eyes.

“Hey” she whispers, careful not to wake Aidi sleeping in his lap. When she realizes he isn’t opening his eyes, she raises her arm and rests it next to his face on the back of the couch. With delicate fingers she caresses the tender skin of his neck, below his ear, where she hears his pulse quicken. 

“Harry, hey” she repeats, hoping to gain his attention, but she may have been a little too loud, because Aidi stirs in his lap and opens her eyes slowly. 

“Hi, bug” he smiles down at her, his expression changing as soon as she woke up. “Let’s get yah to bed, yeah?” 

He stands up from the couch and props Aidi on his hip, caressing her back gently to lull her back to sleep. 

She falls asleep on his shoulder almost immediately, and YN raises on her feet quickly, placing a gentle and quiet kiss on her hair. Harry smiles at her and informs her he’d be putting Aidi to bed in her room. 

YN turns off the tv and picks up the throw blanket to fold it, when she’s done she puts it on the couch and makes her way upstairs towards Harry’s room.

She sits on his bed and she waits for him, her heart beating fast against her ribcage. She wonders if she should leave. Is that what Harry is so scared to tell her? She’s sure he realized too that Aidi wasn’t comfortable with YN staying over.

She hears the door close quietly and she looks up immediately. She can feel her heart in her throat, convinced he wants to send her away. 

Maybe it’s too soon. 

Maybe he doesn’t want a relationship with someone his daughter doesn’t like. 

Whatever the reason will be, she’s sure this will be their final conversation. 

“Hi” he interrupts her train of thoughts.

“Hi”.

He walks towards her and stops in front of her, sitting between her open legs. 

“Harry -“ she starts saying, but he interrupts her quickly: “Baby, I’m so sorry”.

“What?” she asks confused, “why are you saying sorry?” 

“I thought… today was supposed to be different” he sighs. He raises both of his hands and cradles her face in his palms, caressing the skin of her cheeks with his thumbs. 

“I’m sorry” he repeats, “I wanted to make a nice dinner and maybe go for a walk, and… I don’t know, maybe watch a movie but…” 

“But we did!” YN chimes in, bringing her hands up to squeeze his wrists, “it was perfect”

“I know but… Aidi…” he says, shaking his head, panic lacing his voice.

“You don’t think she’s happy…”

“It’s not that… I’m just scared. I didn’t think it would be this difficult” he sighs. He feels guilty, and if there was any way he could have this conversation with her without hurting her, he would. But YN has also taught him to communicate his feelings, and he couldn’t just not tell her what was going on in his mind, how scared he is for his daughter and to cause her pain. 

“Oh Harry” she shakes her head against his hands, biting down on her bottom lip so hard she thinks she can taste the blood. “She’s just little, and not used to… all of this. I think you should talk to her.” 

“I don’t know how” he looks at her pleadingly. 

“Just say how you feel. Start from there. She’s the most wonderful kid I know, she will understand.” 

It’s when she says things like these that Harry remembers why he is so sure about YN. She loves him, and perhaps she loves his daughter more than she loves him. Her presence is crucial in both of their lives, and Aidi needs to know her. She needs to be around her, because Harry thinks there’s a part of how YN loves that only she could teach, and he wants Aidi to learn, he wants her to see her dad happy, and he wants her to understand that love is really all that matters.

He gives her a small smile, not big enough to show the dimples YN really loves, but enough for her heart to tighten in her chest.

“Everything’s going to be fine.” She whispers, before tilting her head upwards and placing a chaste kiss on his lips. 

He dips his head forward and deepens the kiss, sighing into her mouth. 

Despite the heavy weight on his chest, he’s really happy she’s here.

Her lips are soft against his, and he wants to drink her in, drown in her taste, like the sweetest summer fruit. 

Her hands make their way up his arms, her fingers dipping into the cotton of his shirt, and once she reaches his shoulders, she pushes him down against her. 

They both fall on the bed, and with the way she’s kissing him, YN hopes she can reassure him. She hopes he understands she’s here now, and he doesn’t have to do it alone. His tongue caresses hers, and his hands are everywhere on her body, holding onto her skin desperately. 

He settles between her legs, and pushes his hips forward when she bites his bottom lip, his erection pushing hard against her center where she needs him the most.

“Harry” she says as soon as he moves his head to kiss down her neck, “we shouldn’t. You’re upset” she breathes.

“Mmh” he whimpers against the skin of her neck, “please” he begs, “i need you. I need you so much.”

She tugs at his hear and he raises his head from her neck, the sight of him almost making YN cum on the spot.

As opposed to how he always is in bed, dark and dominant, he looks soft and pleading, his eyes big and veiled with lust, his lips wet with spit and a particular shade of red mixed with purple. 

“You’re the only one that can make me feel better” he whispers looking directly into her eyes.

“Okay” she nods, “okay”.

Harry buries his head back onto her neck and kisses the skin there gently. 

His hands travel down to her jeans and he quickly unbuttons them, tugging them down her legs and then throwing them on the floor.

His movements are frantic and eager, but everything about him is soft, from the way his hands caress the skin of her stomach to the way his fingers shift her panties to the side to expose her. He dips his thumb between her folds, rolling tight circles on her clit a couple times. She sighs heavily, and she has to refrain herself from moaning.

When he sees that she’s wet enough, he holds his weight with one arm and with the other he tugs his own jeans down, followed by his boxers right after. 

When his cock is finally freed from its restraint, he doesn’t waste a second before he slides it between her folds, coating it with her juices. She brings a hand to his cheek and tilts his head up so he can look into her eyes when he slips inside of her. 

“Oh” she whimpers, and he’s quick to swallow her sounds with his own mouth, sighing into her while his hips drill into her.

She feels warm against him, and he finally feels the comfort he’d been looking for. 

With gentle fingers he raises the fabric of her t-shirt and exposes more of her skin, his hand resting against her ribcage, under her side boob. With his thumb he pushes her bra up and finally frees her tits, his head dipping down to kiss all over the new exposed skin.

He takes her right nipple into his mouth and sucks on it lightly, soothing it right after with his tongue.

“Please” she moans quietly, arching her back and pushing her tits into is mouth. 

“Shh, baby” he giggles, leaving her boobs and going back to her mouth, “fuck” he whispers against her lips, “gonna make me cum already”

She clenches around him, flattered that she could make him reach his high so quickly.

“Baby I need you to cum” he says, and he brings a hand down between them, drawing tight circles on her clit. He knows she’s close by the way her walls clench around him, but he needs her to come before him, so he brings his mouth back on her nipple, the left one this time, and bites on it gently. 

With the stimulation on her clit and now on her nipple, YN knows it’s going to take her seconds to cum, and she brings a hand to clasp against her mouth when he gives a particularly harsh thrust that makes her come on the spot. She sees stars and all her body trembles as Harry keeps moving his hips with the pace that made her cum, never taking his hand off her clit. 

He parts from her nipple and when he sees her face beginning to contort in discomfort, he pulls his cock put of her and with a few tugs he comes against her stomach, his sticky liquid coming in spurts out of his slit.

“Fuck” he groans, giving another few thrusts against his hand.

When he’s done, he falls on the bed next to her, lifting his arm so she can squeezing in against his side. 

She rests her head on his chest, and she can hear his heart beating hard against his chest. She almost falls asleep right there, lulled by the sound of his heart beating loud for her, but: “thank you. I love you”, he whispers against her hair delivering a soft kiss against her hairline. 

She chuckles against the skin of his chest, placing a kiss there “i love you too”.

…

“I got more of that cream yeh like… the one made with wine” 

They’re both still in their towel, the bathroom foggy from the steam of the hot water. 

“Harry!!! Thank you!” She exclaims, “you didn’t have to” she beams at him, tucking her bottom lip between her teeth as he shows the cream to her.

“I wanted to” he smiles, leaning down to kiss the side of her head.

This is what he has longed for all his life, always feeling like there was something missing from him. The comfortableness of sharing his routine with the person he loves the most.  

They stand side by side in front of the sink, their naked shoulders touching, and YN massages the cream onto her skin while Harry brushes his teeth.

When he’s done, YN hands him the cream and “want?” 

He nods, and, “you put it for me” he says, closing his eyes immediately and bringing his hand up to swat away a couple of curls from his forehead. 

YN grins widely and she sprinkles a little bit of cream on the palm of her fingers. She rubs them together to warm the cream, and then she raises on her tips to massage it onto Harry’s face.

She’s delicate in doing so, rubbing his cheeks gently and then under his eyes, his nose and all the way down to his chin. He looks serious but relaxed at the same time, and YN rubs at his temples a little to ease what could be left of the tension he felt before. 

He sighs dreamily and once she’s done, she rubs the remaining cream on his neck, and then she places a kiss on his lips, “all done”.

“Thank you baby” he smiles, leaning down to give her another kiss. And another. And another, until she’s giggling against his lips.

“Shh” he shushes her, placing another soft kiss against her lips.

“I’m so tired” YN says, knuckling at her eyes.

“Yeah… let’s go to bed, yeah?” 

Once they reach his room, they both slip into their pajamas and hurry to get to bed, the tiredness of the day catching up to the both of them. 

YN asks what side of the bed Harry sleeps on (the one near the door) and YN gets in beside him. She can smell the fabric softener of his cleaned sheets (that Harry had changed before they got in the shower), and she burrows herself more into the comforter, hiding her face under it.

“Where are yah!” He whispers, and when he hears her giggle, he raises the comforter over his head and joins her under the covers.

“Hi” he says once he’s face to face with her, the mint scent of his toothpaste tickling her nose. She looks extremely soft, her skin dewy from the cream and her eyes droopy with sleep. 

“Hi” she repeats, moving closer to him. She rests her head on the palm of her hand, and she looks up at him dreamily. Harry feels a little claustrophobic from the lack of oxygen and the heaviness of the comforter over their heads, but he has to admit it’s comforting, being with her like this. Close. 

“Thank you for giving me this” she whispers, shifting her gaze form one of his eyes to the other. 

She hopes he understands what she means, because YN doesn’t mean the cream, the dinner, or the sex. She means a family. A routine. Something to look forward to at the end of the day when she feels exhausted. She knows now as long as she has Harry and Aidi she will never feel alone, and she will never have to question herself, how she did all those years ago in college when she would wonder what was wrong with her that made her so unlovable. 

…

The next morning, Harry wakes up at around seven o’clock, too early for a Saturday morning, and he casts a glare towards YN that is sleeping soundly next to him.

When he realizes what time it is by looking at his phone, he understands something is missing. Aidi isn’t awake. 

She usually wakes him up at around half past six by jumping on his bed, and then falls asleep almost immediately on his chest, clutching her stuffed bunny protectively to her side. 

The possibility that she’s still asleep is very slim, and he decides to check on her, not without leaving a kiss on YN’s head before.

When he reaches Aidi’s room, he opens the door and frowns sadly at his daughter. She’s awake, lying on her bed still under the covers, talking quietly with her stuffed bunny.

“Hi bug” he whispers, “g’morning!” 

“Hi” she says in a small voice, but she doesn’t raise her gaze to look at him. He knows she’s still upset. 

“Why didn’t y’come wake me up?” 

When she shrugs, he walks towards her bed, and with his hand he gestures for her to scooch over a little so he can lay down next to her. 

He lays his head on her pillow and looks at her. She’s still sleepy, her eyes laced with sleep and her hair ruffled and curly. Her pajama top has shifted a little to expose the soft skin of her tummy, and Harry adjusts it to cover her. 

“Cinna” Harry addresses her stuffed bunny once he realizes Aidi doesn’t want to talk to him yet, “why’s Aidi sad?” 

Aidi pets the bunny’s ears and keeps her eyes forward, not looking at her dad. 

“Is it because YN is here?” He asks gently, whispering as if it was a secret between them.

Aidi wraps her small fingers around the bunny’s neck and makes it nod its head. Harry smiles sadly at her, his chest aching at the sight of his daughter hurting, and him being the cause of that pain.

His sudden reaction is to just reassure her and he wonders if YN would understand if he told her to wait a little before coming over again, but then he remembers what she told him: that Aidi is smart and she will understand if he talks about his feelings. He figures it’s worth a try.

So, “Come here, bug” he says, stretching out his arm so she can rest her head on his chest.

It takes a while to convince her but after a little bit she shifts and places her cheek on his chest, holding her bunny tight under her chin.

“My baby” he coos, petting the hair out of her face, “just because YN is here it doesn’t mean we can’t do what we always do!” 

He hears her sigh loudly through her nose and he understands she isn’t really convinced by his words.

“It doesn’t change the love I have for you” he says, but she’s little, and he tells her he loves her everyday, so it doesn’t do very much.

“YN is really nice” he tries, “and she’s my friend. She’s funny and she loves ice cream. And she gives great cuddles. Like… great. Way better than I do, because she’s warm and she smells nice, like candy”  

He hears her giggle at his words, so he keeps going, “and she makes me really happy” he coos.

“How much?” Aidi asks, her voice muffled from the cheek she has smushed against his shirt.

“Ooooh, like how much happy we are when granny comes over” 

Aidi hums and raises her head from his chest to look at her daddy. She looks a little less sad now, her lips open in a small smile.

“And she loooooves bunnies. She has like three stuffed bunnies,” he smiles, and Aidi looks down at the bunny clasped in her small hand.

“Really?” 

“Yeah… she actually asked me if you and Cinna’d like to meet ‘em?”

She nods her head eagerly, “maybe we could invite them over next time?” She asks doubtfully, almost shy, and Harry beams with pride upon seeing her reaction.

“‘f course bug!” He exclaims excitedly, circling her back with his arms and squeezing her against his chest. He tickles her back and she giggles uncontrollably, her laugh muffled from his shirt, “daddy stooop! Please daddy!” 

He joins in on her laugh and he stops tickling her, squeezing her hard against his chest one last time.

“Is miss YN still asleep?” Aidi asks.

“Dunno,” he says, “do yeh want t’check?” 

When she nods her head, he sits up on her bed and takes her in his arms, propping her on his hip and picking up her stuffed bunny.

They make their way towards Harry’s bedroom, and when they open the door, YN is still sound asleep under the duvet.

“She’s sleepin’” he whispers, and smiles when Aidi clasps her hand on his mouth, shushing him.

“Do yeh want t’sleep a little mo’?” 

“Like always?” She asks, looking at him with big eyes.

“Yeah” 

Aidi nods her head and points toward the bed with the hand that’s holding the bunny, “in here”.

“Okay” he nods amused.

He lays her down on the bed next to YN, tucking her under the covers, and then he scooches in next to them, shutting the small light on his bedside table.

“Harry?” He’s almost half asleep when he hears her small voice, and he opens his eyes tiredly to look at her.

“Everything’s okay?” YN asks, her voice laced with a bit of worry, that he’s quick to reassure. 

“Yes. She wanted to sleep a little bit more” 

“Okay.” She nods happily.

“Go back to sleep, darlin’. Everything’s perfect” he reassures, stretching a hand to caress her face.

He smiles fondly when she turns her head to kiss the skin of his wrist and then he lulls her back to sleep like he did with his daughter, petting her hair soothingly. 

YN falls asleep almost immediately, and Aidi, too, is sleeping peacefully between them.

Harry, despite the tiredness, stays awake a little longer to look at both of his girls trough the dark, sleeping next to him, his heart growing in his chest every second he spends looking at them, and he wonders what they’re dreaming about, these two girls that in different ways gave him a reason to love again. 

In the morning, he’ll be the last one to wake up, alone in his bed, and he’ll hear the laughter coming from the kitchen along with the sweet scent of pancakes and bacon. He will let Aidi tell him all about how YN really gives the best cuddles and smells of candy, and he will kiss YN tenderly on the head. Aidi will ask YN when she can meet her bunnies while she bites down on her Nutella pancake, and YN will say whenever her and Cinnabunny are ready. 

And Harry will finally feel at peace in his routine. No pieces missing.  

omg bad habit 3 is finally here 😭 i missed writing for them so much, they're all so cuteeeee ugh lmk if you liked it and if i should write more blurbs about them!!! love you all so much

#harry styles blurb #bad habit #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harrystyles #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfiction #teacher!yn #dad harry styles #dad!harry #harry x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles love on tour

[satellitedusterart]

loom 🚪

#my art #oc art #bad habit #barbara #daniel #happy late halloween everybody <3

[iclout]

#bad habit #steve lacy #gemini rights

[gothamfrights]

Re draw 🐇🔪

#idk man #artists on tumblr #commisions open #commissions #creepypasta #emh #habit everymanhybrid #seven trials of habit #7 trials of habit #habit emh #bad habit #everymanhybrid #vinny everyman #jeff koval #evan emh #evan jennings #slenderverse #Spotify

[louisianimal]

let’s see how long this gunna stay up.

#bad habit #being nekkid rules

[unbotheredmuse]

#mine #bad habit #steve lacy #lyrics #quote #text

[downfalldestiny]

" I'm going to change !".

🎬 The Town .

#The Town #ben affleck #Who iam #Same thing #Change #People #Bad habit #downfalldestiny #downfall #life #Movie #Films

[desorden-en-letras]

¿𝐄𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞?

𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐇𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭- 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐜𝐲

-𝒔𝒏𝒉𝒏𝒌𝒌𝒎𝒏

#desorden en letras #snhnkkmn #abril 2023 #pub16 #escritos #frases #letras #pensamientos #amor #textos #sentimientos #citas en español #textos en español #frases de canciones #bad habit #steve lacy #letras de canciones #canciones #quotes en español #amor no correspondido #quédate

[refuge-301]

5 REASONS WHY YOU MUST NOT KISS YOUR CHILDREN ON THEIR LIPS

I know you probably have only good intentions and for you this is a cute way to express affection, but since you don't know how your child will react and it is very risky it is better not to do it in our culture. Here is why:

1. Your child DOESN'T NEED OR DESIRE your kisses on their lips, at least not until you create this desire as a primary way to make them experience love from you. You are the one that want it or need. You can express love in many different ways, I can assure you your child won't miss not being kissed on their lips.

2. It CONFUSES ROLES AND AFFECT YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH THEM. Lips kisses are primarily associated with romantic relationships, and since not all parents do this, children can make question and feel confused about the meaning of it. This habit can also negatively affects family roles, in fact the impact is also stronger when there is not a strong romantic relationships between the parents and when there are single parents. Therefore the child could perceive him/herself as a parents's romantic partner, so this habit can make the definition of family roles worse and in your relationships with them.

3. It can NEGATIVELY AFFECTS CHILDREN'S SELF PERCEPTION WITHOUT THEM OR YOU REALISING. Children always think that what happen to them is their fault and so they usually don't express what they think, so you don't know now if in years later this habit can result in feeling of self-disgust and shame, to feeling violeted. These negative sensations, maybe unconscious can stay also in teen years creating an unease feeling with the relationship you have with them until they realise or remeber and process what happened.

4. Kisses on the lips CREATE ADDICTION. Kisses on lips wake up the need of lips to kiss, I don't think it is ok for a child to experience this in such a young age. This can have consequences as starting very young to have a little boyfriend/girlfriend just for satisfy this need.

5. There are many STORIES OF PEOPLE WHO REMIND THIS PARENT'S HABIT WITH UNEASY FEELINGS. Children accept this habit because they love you and trust you and they are too young to know its impact. But there are many experiences of grown-up that, even if their parents were good parents, still remind this habit with uneasy feelings. Some forgot this experience since it created shame, felt violeted without knowing why during teen years and when adults they remember it and talked about it with their parents, got healed and the relationships with them got repaired.

Maybe kissing your child on the lips won't have consequences, but why to risk?

Are there also good reason why to do it?

No, since your child doesn't need your kisses on their lips.

There is no reasons to do it and many and many reasons not to do it or to stop.

What to do if you already started to kiss your child on their lips?

This post is not to make you feel bad about yourself but to be aware because even with all the good intentions we can still hurt without realising, and this can be totally avoidable with more knowledge.

So just stop kissing, it is better if you do it, gradually and by substituting it with other expression of love (so they won't experience a reject), without them asking later to stop maybe with shame.

What to do insted:

The impact of your acts on children surely depend also on the type of family you are and how much parents express affection on each other, so finding balance will look different in every families. For any cases, use all love languages, and for the physical contact, hugging and kissing them on their cheeks and head will satisfy their needs. Avoid also kissing their neck and using other typical romantic expression of love (romantic candlelight dinners only with your child, etc.), children are not completely unaware and one day they will process it and may feel bad for these things.

Normal cheeks and head kisses are absolutely perfect and children will feel loved receiving normal parent-children expression of love.

#By a psychology master student. #kisses #kissing children #kissing on lips #trauma #unease #shame #kiss #children #child #psychology #habit #bad habit #parents #parent child relationship #bad experiences #psychologist here #children's kisses #mine #my post

[ifancyharry]

Bad habit (1)

In which YN is Harry’s daughter’s teacher, and she and Harry used to be friends in college; fluff; angst; dad!harry

Word count: 4.5k

First days of school were always chaotic, and YN, despite having been a teacher for two years of her life now, never got quite used to the tantrums little kids would throw on first days — and maybe the following week, or until they felt confident enough in the school environment that they didn’t miss their parents to the point of crying at the mere thought of them. 

September always carried with it a nostalgic feeling that YN loved, and she usually found herself thinking about warm sunny August days spent sunbathing and eating pasta salads. Her teacher salary didn’t allow much room for vacations, but YN managed to always find contentment in the premises of her hometown.

That’s what she’s thinking about when she walks through the school’s doors that Monday morning, waving at a couple of her coworkers to greet them. She usually was far more chatty, but she was feeling fidgety at the thought of meeting her new baby students, and she didn’t trust herself enough to chat with someone; who knows what she could say! 

No one truly understands YN, she’s younger than her coworkers and sometimes she feels like no one really cares about what she has to say. It’s been that way since she was a little baby, really, so she’s gotten quite used to it, and she doesn’t feel bad about it.

She often wonders if maybe there’s something wrong with the way she communicates, but her students seem to understand her rather well — as much as little kiddies can understand —, so she always crosses that thought off the list.  It doesn’t necessarily have to mean there’s something wrong with her, so she doesn’t know why sometimes she wonders if things would be a little different if she was different in the first place. 

She wishes it came a little easier, people never really seem to understand how hard it is to talk. It’s why she loves her job so much. Kids are easy to talk to, because most of the time they don’t remember conversations and they never question her on why she’s being quiet or in her mind, like most of her coworkers do. 

The bell rings at 8.30 sharp, and YN tries to put on the most heartwarming smile she knows, because she understands sometimes first days can be though. And not just for kids.

“Hi!” She coos when she sees a little girl walking in her classroom holding her mum’s hand. 

“I’m Miss YN, it’s a pleasure to meet you! What’s your name!”

The little girl hides behind her mum’s leg and YN frowns jokingly at her. 

“She’s shy… her name’s Amy” the mum says, throwing YN an apologetic look. 

“Hi, Amy! It’s okay. I understand shy.” She nods, crouching down on her legs to be at eye level with the small kid, “since you’re the first one, why don’t you choose your desk? Your mummy can help you pick it out?” 

The little girl nods her head against her mother’s jeans and YN smiles brightly at her.

With time, more kids start to come in, and YN greets all of them, trying to be as warm as possible. She talks to their parents and lets them stay with their children until they get accustomed to the classroom. Some of them already have friends, and it’s always easier for them to let go of their parents’ hands; for others, it takes a while, and YN tries to be as understanding as possible, especially with them.

When the clock strikes 9 am, only one chair is empty, and she wonders if maybe the school had mistaken the number of students who’d come in. She’s about to introduce herself to the class of small kids that are looking at her with bright eyes and shy smiles, when she hears a knock on the opened door, her body turning quickly at the sound.

She feels lightheaded as she takes in the image in front of her, and she grimaces in surprise. It’s Harry. The Harry. 

Many years have passed since the last time she saw him, but she knows she’d recognize him everywhere and in anytime.

He was three years older than her and used to hang out with her group. They attended the same creative writing class and she remembers how his knee used to brush against her thigh when he would fidget in his chair, readjusting his body as he cussed at the uncomfortableness of the wooden chairs.

She remembers how he always used to ask her for pens, sometimes for a spare sheet of paper or if he could borrow her laptop’s charger because “fuckin’ hell, — he would say, and YN would blush a little at the way he would close the space between them, reaching a hand to grab for the charger —  mine's completely gone ’n all m’work’s in there! Days worth o’work!”

He’s standing against the doorway, his body leaning against it, holding a pouty little kid on his opposite hip. 

He looks the same, a bit older, maybe, his hair less disheveled and his clothes more serious — he’s wearing grey tailored pants and a sweater vest with cherry blossom flowers on it, he lost the skinny jeans and his adored Chelsea boots, but it’s definitely still that guy she used to have a crush on all those years ago.

“YN?” Harry questions, tilting his head to the side in surprise. YN notices as the little girl in his hold buries her face in his neck, trying to hide from the attention.

“’s me, Harry! Y’remember, right? From college!” YN blushes a little at his words and tries to regain control of her body as she seems stuck to the linoleum floor. 

She’s a little taken a back at his remark; he thought she wouldn’t remember him! How would that even be possible, YN doesn’t know.

His voice hasn’t changed, it’s still the same scruffy and deep voice she used to blush upon hearing, and she remembers vaguely that one time on one of their usual hang outs, when he picked up a guitar and started singing, a little drunk on cheap beer, and she remembers wondering how his voice would sound whispering tender words in her ear…

“Of course I remember!” She smiles, trying to hide her nervousness, “of course!” She repeats, and, deep within her, she really hopes she’s coming across as cool and not as that completely shy and weird girl who used to have tons of pens and a crush on her older classmate who seemed to always steal them.

 “The world really is small, huh?” He remarks, a cheeky grin spreading across his mouth. 

“Yeah” she breaths out, smiling shyly at him, “it is.”

“Teaching, huh? I can see it” he says, nodding his head as he looks her up and down jokingly, and YN feels herself fluster under his gaze. She doesn’t understand why she still longs for his approval, but there’s something really tantalizing in the way he said ‘i can see it’, as if he was telling her a secret about herself she couldn’t wait to hear.

“And who is this?” She replies quickly, tilting her head to take a closer look at the baby on his hip, hoping to shift the conversation from her to him. If he’s bothered by the sudden change, he doesn’t show it, instead, he brings a hand to cup the little girl’s head and pats at it gently, “This is Aidi” he smiles proudly, “m’daughter”.

Oh… Oh!. YN doesn’t know why she’s so surprised by his remark. If she remembers correctly — and she does, because YN isn’t one to forget details easily — he should be around 29 now, a perfectly appropriate age to have a three, four (YN can’t be sure, she looks small but she hasn’t seen her face still) child, as much as there really could be an appropriate age to be a parent. 

Maybe, but she doesn’t like this thought and she doesn’t want to linger in it more than she needs, it’s what — or, should she say, who — comes with a child, that startles her: a partner; and at the idea of Harry being married, she feels lightheaded. It feels weird, thinking about the Harry she used to know, being married. Not that he wasn’t marriage material, he often used to say how he wanted to have a family pretty young, it’s just weird to her how his life could have gone on and there’s parts of it she wasn’t around to participate in.

She tries to scramble her brain and see if she remembers Instagram posts of her friends at his wedding, or at least an engagement dinner, but she can’t find any, but she isn’t sure if that’s because she isn’t in contact with her old friend group anymore.

“Hi, Aidi” she coos, raising her hand in a wave when the little girl raises her head from her father’s neck. “I’m YN, it’s very nice to meet you” 

Aidi has light brown hair wrapped in a beautiful braid, and YN wonders if Harry was the one that did her hair or his partner did, her eyes are unmistakably her father’s, a deep shade of green, with a little twinkle to them that makes them so unique. 

YN remembers many times where she had found herself thinking of the correct term to name the color of his eyes, if ever it existed, and she always came back empty handed. When she thought they were a deep forest green, he would look at her and they’d be a mix of green water, like the color the lake behind her grandparent’s house would turn out in the spring. Other times — YN noticed mostly at night —, they would be a dark shade of green, like the way a forest would look in the rain if she lived in a dark academia movie.

Aidi opens her pouty lips to let out a shy ‘hi’, but when YN takes a step closer to them, she snuggles closer to Harry, clutching his sweater in her small hands.

“’s the reason we’re late…” he sighs, “she’s nervous” he explains, and he lowers his head to look at his daughter’s face, the arm that’s holding her against him flexes a little and Aidi squirms in his hold, holding tighter — if possible — on his shoulders.

“It’s okay” YN smiles softly, but she isn’t talking to him, “first days can be a little though, huh?”

Aidi nods her head against her father’s neck and YN raises her eyes to meet Harry’s, and she flusters when she realizes he was already looking at her, an amused twinkle shading his gaze.

He tries to lower her down on the ground, but the little girl just squeezes his sweater tighter and kicks her legs out in protest, so Harry raises again with a sigh and Aidi resumes happily her previous position on his hip.

“Y’re bein’ irrational about this” he stresses, but YN looks at him amused, because it’s not like a little kid understands what ‘being irrational’ means.

“I’m s’sorry” he smiles nervously, shaking his head, “she’s not usually like this.”

“’s okay, you could… you could stay, for today… let her get comfortable?” YN suggests in a low voice, hoping Aidi isn’t listening to her. She doesn’t know if Harry needs to go to work, despite how much the school advises the parents to take the first day off, because children never really go willingly and always need a little push, she doesn’t know if he received the email, perhaps his wife did and didn’t let him know? YN feels silly for thinking like this. She’s usually rational about these kinds of things, and she never lets herself linger in inappropriate thoughts about her students’ parents, but he isn’t just a parent, and despite him being someone else’s Harry, there was a time where she fantasized he could be her’s. 

Fantasized is the correct term, because as I said YN is pretty rational in her daily life and even in her daily daydreaming, and she knows rather well how Harry never even spared her a thought, in college. She was just the girl that lent him pens.

“Figure I could stay” he nods, more to himself really, and YN wonders if maybe he has to inform someone that he’s not coming home right after dropping Aidi off, “really just needed to go grocery shopping, but I guess we’ll go after, huh?” 

Aidi seems to light up at the suggestion and she raises her head to look around the classroom.

“Daddy is stayin’?” She asks hopefully to YN, and when she nods her head, Aidi squirms in her dad’s hold and demands to be let down.

Harry chuckles at his daughter and throws a quick amused glance at YN when Aidi begins to tug him towards a small, baby blue, round table, where a couple of kids are coloring a drawing YN had printed out and left on the table before their arrival that morning.

Harry isn’t the only parent that stayed, and despite some of her coworkers disapproving of her method of teaching, she knows the kids had to warm up to her slowly, and if she demanded the parents off, it would be extremely difficult to get in their good graces.

She understood first days could be though, and she remembers how hard it was for her every time she started something new, a feeling that never really leaves you (not even many years later, when she no longer has first days), so she would let the parents stay as long as they could.

Of course, when she suggested Harry to stay, she only had Aidi’s best interest at heart, it wasn’t like she wanted him to stay, and perhaps talk to him, or maybe catch him looking at her with the corner of her eye when she was busy playing blocks with a baby student. It wasn’t like that at all. So why was her skin burning under his gaze for all the two hours he colored with his daughter?

…

Harry and Aidi leave around noon that day, and when Harry complains that it’s too early and he needs a couple of hours in the afternoon to work, YN reassures him quietly while Aidi is putting her little coat on, that she’ll get used to school hours and she’ll slowly but eventually want to stay longer; it’s always like that, and kids are simple beings, and pretty similar in their behaviors. 

So he leaves with a resigned sigh and a chatty baby on his hip, and YN follows them with her gaze before going back to give her attention to the little kid fussing in her lap and chatting her ear off about his holidays in the countryside during the summer.

She smiles and nods her head every once in a while, to assure him she’s listening and is interested in his story, but she can’t help but let her mind wander to the thought of seeing Harry for the first time since college. He looked so mature and put together, she feels small and silly in her choice of outfit (simple jeans and a sweater with a bunny printed on it — that the kids loved!), and she wonders wether Harry was making fun of her when he told her he saw her as a teacher. What did that mean? She doesn’t remember talking about a teaching career with him, and she certainly doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with being a teacher, at all. So, was he making fun of her? He must have been joking and she, as always, didn’t get the joke. But why did it matter? 

She doesn’t know, and she tries to think about what he possibly could’ve meant that didn’t involve making fun of her, but came up empty handed, and once again, she finds herself thinking about him the same way she did in college, with a tang bitter taste of ‘what if’s.

…

“Sorry we’re late… Someone was a little grumpy this mornin’, huh?” 

The rest of the month had gone by quickly; YN isn’t required to come in every morning — she alternates mornings with the other teacher, Miss Enya, so she doesn’t get to see Harry as often as she’d like, and when he comes to pick up Aidi in the late afternoon (he had started to pick her up a little bit later with every day that passed, claiming he could really use the extra hours to work, and he had told YN to call him if Aidi started asking about him), he greets YN with a brief wave of the hand, which is kind of awkward, both to him and to YN, but she goes with it and waves back.

Sometimes, when Aidi takes a while to get her little coat on, and she takes her time saying bye to her classmates (because she’s very much a loving kid and she can’t just leave without saying goodbye, her daddy always tells her it’s impolite!), Harry chats a bit with YN, mostly about the weather (“’s crazy, this weather! ’s so hot I think I’ll melt”)  or about Aidi, asking her if she’s been good and whether she’s getting along with the other kids, and YN is polite, always polite, she answers his questions and laughs a little at his jokes, and in a way, it feels to her like time hasn’t passed, and she’s still that girl that used to have a crush on her older friend in college.

It’s Wednesday now, September is almost over and with it the warm days, leaving place to the chilly weather sneaking on you when you’re least expecting it.

The week had been calmer than usual, kind of uneventful, really, a couple of kids got sick with the flu at the beginning of the week, and by mid week the class was almost halved, whether they really got sick or their parents were just preventing that from happening, YN didn’t know, but it was fine either way and she understood the precautions taken.

That’s why when Harry comes in that morning, a little after 9 am, YN waves his tardiness off nonchalantly, “it’s okay!” She smiles at him kindly, “most of the kids are at home with the flu, though” she pouts, looking around the room at the small group of students playing with legos on the floor.

“Oh! Sorry to hear that” He reciprocates her pout, letting his daughter on the ground and holding out her small backpack for her to take.

They watch as Aidi walks slowly to the coat hangers, hanging her backpack on the hook and then her little coat.

When she takes a seat on the table to color a cute bunny YN had printed that morning, Harry shifts his eyes to glance at YN beside him, that is still looking at his daughter lovingly.

“Tha’s a nice shirt ye’re wearin’!” He chuckles, rising his brows and pinching the fabric of her shirt between his thumb and index finger. 

YN tries to control the redness that creeps up on her cheeks when she turns her head to face him, looking down at her shirt with a printed bunny dressed up in a ghost costume, where his hand is still holding the pale yellow fabric of her shirt between his fingers.

“This is a very fancy shirt, Harry. I take bunnies very seriously” she pouts, her brows dipped. 

“Oooh,” he coos, “yeah, I remember.”

“What do you mean?” She says.

This thing with bunnies had started when YN was around five (her first stuffed animal had been a bunny and she found great comfort in Mr Carrots — that was his name), and it kind of stuck with her; whenever she had something important to do she would have a little bunny with her, whether it be a pendant on a necklace or just printed on her shirt, she’d feel comfort knowing she’d have a bunny with her.

“I remember” he repeats, “from college. You had that… that necklace, I think. Oh, and the notebooks, I remember those as well.” 

“Oh.” YN doesn’t know what else to say, and she knows she’s being awkward, of course she knows! But what is she supposed to say? He remembers probably the most intimate detail about her, and once again she is stuck asking herself, what does it mean? For him to remember? Does it have to mean something? Because it’s not like she was hiding the bunnies… she had them splattered on her shirt! 

“Yeah” he nods, eyeing her carefully. He retreats his hand quickly, almost as if the shirt had caught on fire and his fingers’d started to burn, and he clears his throat, embarrassment pumping through his body.

“I have t’go, now.” He chuckles nervously, “need t’get Aidi tha’cereal she always eats in t’morning”.

“Of course, of course” YN nods, waving a hand in front of them to dismiss him. 

He waves at her awkwardly before stuffing his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, turning back towards the door.

YN doesn’t wait for him to get out of the classroom before she turns the other way, walking towards the group of kids that are playing on the ground.

…

“‘llo?” 

“Harry? It’s YN, well the… the school” YN rambles, holding her phone between her cheek and her shoulder as she holds the thermometer against Aidi’s temple.

She’s got the little girl curled in her lap as she lulls her back and forth, trying to soothe her the best she can, because she knows from experience that the infirmary always scares kids the most; apparently when painting the school no one thought about extending the silly cartoon characters that are painted on the classroom’s walls to the infirmary as well.

“Yes, ‘f course. Wha’s wrong?”

“Aidi’s burning up… I’m taking her temperature now, I think she’s… she’s sick?” She doesn’t know why it comes out as a question, but it does, and YN curses herself in her head for being like this. She’s got told many times to be careful when calling the parents, because most of them freak out simply from seeing the school’s caller ID, so she needs to be really more considerate in the way she delivers news.

“’s okay, I’ll come get ‘er, yeah?” He says, and YN hears shuffling from the other side of the line, and she wonders if he’s putting on his coat.

He sounds calm, and she’s glad she didn’t worry him, because it’s really just a fever and there’s nothing to worry about, but Aidi is little and she’s hurting, and she’d understand if Harry had freaked out a little bit.

“Okay, yes, yes” she agrees.

“Be there in 10”, he says, and she hangs up the phone and puts it back in the back pocket of her jeans.

She wonders if Harry has notified Aidi’s mum, and for a brief minute, she ponders whether she should ask the little girl in her lap, but then she feels extremely guilty she would even take that in account, and she tosses the thought out of her head, reminding herself it’s none of her business.

“Your daddy is coming” she coos, and Aidi shifts in her lap to look up at her. 

“Miss YN, my tummy hurts” she whines, big tears pooling in her green eyes that look up at her and YN feels her heart clutch in her chest.

“I know, I know” she nods, petting her hair to help her soothe a bit, lulling her back and forth.

When the thermometer’s timer rings, YN removes it from her temple and winces when she checks the temperature.

“Just a few more minutes” YN whispers against her hair.

After what could’ve been five minutes, but felt like hours, YN sees Harry rush through the school’s infirmary, and when he spots them he raises his brows in a greeting manner.

“Hey” YN whispers to the sleepy toddler that’s curled up on her chest, “your daddy is here”

“Daddy?” Aidi mumbles in a small voice, raising her head to look up at her dad.

She knuckles at her eye and YN smiles softly at her, petting her hair once again.

“Hey” Harry sighs, crunching down on the ground to be eye level with his child, “how ye doin’, bug?” 

“Hurts” she whimpers, raising her arms to signal him she wants to be picked up.

“I know, ’s okay” he props her on his hip and starts rubbing her back soothingly, cooing soft words in her ear.

“I think she’ll be fine with some bed rest… it’s normal for kids to get sick this time of the year” YN reassures him, placing a hand on his shoulder to comfort him.

“Yeah… ’s just… she’s never been sick ’n I don’ know how… she’s little” he takes a big sigh and looks at her, his panicked eyes burning in hers, and it’s only then that YN realizes he’s worried. Of course he is! And how stupid of her to think he wouldn’t be. It’s his child and she’s in pain, YN doesn’t have children of her own and she can only imagine in a certain way what could it mean.

“Harry, hey” she squeezes his shoulder with her hand, “she’s going to be fine. It’s just a fever, yeah? Just a fever”

He nods at her words, albeit unconvinced, and he tilts his head to look at his little girl that’s sleeping with her face smushed against his shoulder, her cheeks red with the warmth of the fever.

“It’s going to be fine” YN repeats.

…

New message:

from: YN

to: Harry Styles 

Hi, how are you?

Hi, Harry, how is Aidi?

Hi, how’s it going?

Hi, Harry, it’s YN. How is Aidi? How are you? :)

YN sends that last text and throws her phone on the couch next to her, pressing the heels of her palms against her eyes.

She sighs loudly before picking up her phone again and unlocking it, the messages app opens immediately and she reads again the text she’d written, the smiley face at the end mocking her.

“Fuck!” She whines, “A fucking smiley face?! Why are you so awkward!” 

She doesn’t wait for him to answer before she gets up from the couch and heads to the kitchen to cook something for dinner.

She’s staring at her empty fridge when she hears her phone’s chime, and she hurries back to the living room, a pep in her step as she anticipates in her head what his answer could be.

from: Harry Styles

to: YN

Hi!! She’s okay now, the fever’s  gone down a bit, but she still isn’t eating :(

And I’m good btw

How r u?

She reads the text probably four times before responding, and this time she tries not to be as serious as she was in the first one.

from: YN

to: Harry Styles

I’m good too

Happy to hear that :)

Not that she isn’t eating… that sucks :’(

from: Harry Styles

to: YN

<3

YN feels her heart skip a beat.

He sent a heart. A heart!!! If she was 14 years old she’d do a little happy dance and probably think about it for the rest of the evening, but she hasn’t been 14 in a long time, and she sticks to just liking his message and locking her phone, making her way back to the kitchen to finally eat something. 

She isn’t 14 anymore, yes, but she can’t help but think about that heart for the rest of the evening.

…

Aidi comes back to school a week later, and she greets YN with a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, and YN holds her tight to her chest, happy to see that she’s alright. 

YN and Harry both watch as Aidi greets her classmates, a pep in her step as she runs to them, ready to tell them all about the bad bug she caught that made her sick (as her daddy had explained).

“I’m happy to see she’s alright” YN says, smiling fondly at the sight in front of her.

“Yeah… me too” he sighs, “I wanted to thank yeh… fo’ takin’ care of ‘er”

“Harry” she chimes in, “it’s my job. You don’t have to thank me.”

“I do, though. Y’re a teacher, aren’t yeh? Not a nurse” he shrugs, smiling a cheeky grin at her.

“You do have a point” she laughs, nodding her head, “but you don’t have to thank me. I didn’t do anything special.” 

“Still” he shrugs once again, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his coat. “We should catch up… sometime… ’s been s’long” 

“Yes” she nods swiftly, maybe a little too excitedly to not be embarrassing, “yes… I would like that”

“Fine then… I’ll text yeh, yeah?” He says, taking the keys of his car out of the pocket of his coat and playing with the keychain with his fingers, rolling it around absentmindedly.

“Have t’go now”

“Yeah” she agrees, but he’s already turned around. 

YN doesn’t know if it’s the adrenaline that’s making her see things, or if maybe she’s the one that’s coming down with a fever now, and it’s making her delusional, but she swears she saw a bunny shaped keychain attached to his car keys, and she feels her heart beat loud against her chest. She really hopes she isn’t imagining things.

PLEASE let me know if you want part 2 and if you liked this!!! 💞

Read part 2 here!!

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one direction #harry styles imagine #harrystyles #harry styles angst #harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles au #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles love on tour #bad habit #dad!harry

[satellitedusterart]

charmer

#my art #oc art #bad habit #barbara #daniel

[anika-ann]

Bad Habit - S.R.

Type: one-shot, unspecified time, mostly canon compliant

Pairining: Steve Rogers x reader      Word count: 3400

Summary: Steve Rogers is a man dedicated to his duty – to fight, to protect, to lead. Many look up to him for they believe he is the epitome of virtue personified. 

But he has one very bad habit he cannot seem to shake, as much as he hates it: he’s always late. 

For you though? He’d run fast enough to break the sound barrier, if it could only mean he’d be on time for once in his life.

Warnings: 18+, nsfw for that one explicit sentence, angst, canon-typical violence and injuries, mentions of death, language

A/N: It’s angst, y’all... gif by @clarkegriffins, divider by @firefly-graphics

Steve ran.

To put right foot swiftly in front of left.

Left. Then right.

Left, right, left, right-- until it felt like his feet weren’t even touching the ground, a staccato of soft steps despite his heavy combat boots.

Left, right, left, right, left, right – solely focused on the automatic task, willing his legs to work just a bit harder. Because running faster than ever was his only mission now.

Natasha and Clint were still yelling at him as he sprinted through the corridors, but much like before, their voices were but a white noise.

His lungs were burning, head swimming more and more by the minute due to the whatever experimental gas he had breathed in when he had burst into the sealed laboratory, reinforced doors giving into the power of his serum-fed muscles and his vibranium shield. His eyes burned too when he saw you already unconscious, hand stained in crimson merely laid on your hip instead of pressing into the wound. His heart almost stopped at the sight, but he didn’t even check if yours was still beating; a negative answer was simply not option.

Teeth gritted, he had gathered you in his arms and ran like his life – your life – depended on it, ignoring Natasha cursing in his ear and promising him she was going to kill him with her bare hands and if you survived, you’d enthusiastically hold him down as she did so.

Oh, Steve wished.  He wished.

He wished you’d live that long; but wishes did little to stop the growing stain of blood on your suit and the thin trail of blood gathering under your nose and he cursed all scientists of the world, most of all those who sold themselves to HYDRA and created the abomination you filling your lungs to the brim. His chest felt as if in a vice for his trouble, but he knew the sight of you was to blame rather than the substance he had got a whiff of.

The alarm was still blaring against his eardrums, and he wasn’t sure anymore if it was the outside noise or his own ears ringing, the taste of copper bitter on his mouth; but he had no time to contemplate, pushing his body further as he raced against time.

He had to save you; you above anyone, always. You, you, you- the world without you would be just wrong, impossible, as you were the Atlas carrying his whole world on your shoulders and should you cease to exist, his world would fall apart.

“Please, please, please, sweetheart-- hold on, you’re gonna be okay-“

It flashed in front on his eyes, your face defiant despite the shadow of fear in your eyes when he randomly picked you from the crowd of senior recruits under Natasha’s command to show the newbies the drill exercises; your smile when he silently admitted he was impressed by your skill before letting you return to your training; then when you smiled for him only, the way you threw your head back, sending the curtain of your hair flying, when you he made you laugh on your first date. Your lips, the sweetest taste, so soft when they skimmed over his cheek, so wicked when they pressed under his jaw, so red when he filled your mouth—red, red, red was dripping down your torso and your chin and he ran because nothing else mattered.

“God-damn you, Rogers,” Natasha cursed him when he finally reached the jet, legs giving way barely three steps after he laid your limp body on a stretcher, the ceiling of the Quinjet blurry. The tang of blood on his tongue was barely there anymore as his tongue begun to feel heavy in his mouth.

The last thing he saw before the medical staff rolled you away from his field of vision was your left hand, a new shiny engagement ring – one you forgot to take off for the mission for you were still getting used to wearing the accessory – mocking him and doubling the pit of desperation in his stomach.

It was blasphemy, but as his eyes slipped shut, he prayed to every God he had even known: not you. Everyone, anyone; your friends, his friends, himself, Lord, anyone but you. He cursed and begged and he prayed so he wouldn’t lose you.

And yet, it felt like he already had.

He always lost people; it felt like his calling, almost.

He was always, always too late.

The knock on his door had him close the file shut, head lifting slowly before he invited the newcomer in. His professional welcoming façade came up as a charm; he had a meeting in a few and it was more than plausible that some of the security board members wanted to speak to him prior.

His heart skipped a happy beat instead – and he ignored the painful sting that always came after – when it turned out to be your friendly face instead peeking in.

“Hey… am I interrupting?” you pried hesitantly, biting down on your lip with nerves – like you always did. “I was just-“

Steve’s smile widened as he shook his head, a little part of his heart breaking away as you entered his absurdly spacious office.

You appeared a little lost in the large space, almost as lost as he felt, yet you were a sight for sore eyes; still missing a bit of colour, arm in a sling, posture slightly hunched as the still healing wound on your side gave you grief. But you were there; alive. That was the only thing that mattered.

Or at least Steve was telling himself as much.

It was a miracle, they said. Stabbed, trapped in the lab for minutes with the poisonous gas leaking, arm broken in two places – the cherry on top; but your body, you, refused to give up anyway, walking, talking, smiling, only three weeks later.

Steve wasn’t surprised in the slightest. You were a fighter in heart, one with courage and determination of steel, protecting your soft altruistic soul from the cruel world.

He had been scared he’d be too late to bring you to the safety that day, passing you to the capable hands of SHIELD’s doctors; but once he did, he had no doubt that you would pull through.  

“How do you feel?” he questioned, beckoning to the chair opposite to him as you hesitated in the middle of the office, unsure what to do with yourself.

“I won’t keep you long,” you said softly, but took several steps closer to him at least.

Every step missing for you to walk and sit on his lap had him aching. He could only hope it didn’t show.

“I feel good. Courtesy of being saved by a knight in shining armour.”

It was a wonder that a smile could stuck to a face when every breath hurt, wasn’t it? “No shining armour. It’s just the obnoxious star in the middle.”

You shrugged, playfulness subduing.

“Point still stands… I know- I know you’d do that for anyone on the team-- hell, probably for anyone period, knowing you. That’s who you are,” you said softly, a wistful smile passing your lips. That’s the person I fell in love with, hung in the air unspoken, and fuck, it hurt, it hurt, it hurt- “But I still owe you.”

“You owe me nothing,” Steve whispered back automatically.

It was the truth; and wasn’t that the cruellest part.

You chuckled nervously.

“No, I know that--- I kinda do, I mean. I just… I’m here because I want to thank you,” you insisted, steeling yourself, chin up, the infamous determination shining through, but your next words were tender. “I hate it when you risk your life, I hate it, because you do it too often, but… but thank you for saving mine.”

For you, I’d do it every day, every hour, every damn minute, Steve wanted to scream, to make you understand. Then again, he thought that maybe deep down, you knew that still.

“There’s no need to thank me.”

“Maybe. But here I am,” you hummed, shrugging innocently.

Steve sighed, words stuck in his throat.

Yes. Here you were.

He allowed himself the indulgence of watching you for a moment, rewriting the horror-like memory of you, limp and bloodied in his arms, replacing the image with you standing strong and beautiful only mere steps from him.

Rationally, he knew which of the two alternatives was better without doubt, and yet, he couldn’t decide which hurt him more.

In the slightly awkward silence, you reciprocated his gaze and his small smile, hands fiddling – and that was where Steve’s dilemma stemmed from: you were toying with the ring on your left hand, each twist of that small piece of metal twisting the knife in Steve’s heart, digging just a little deeper, trying to pry the cracks wide and open, testing how much it could take until it would break apart completely.

You cleared your throat, shifting your weight. “So, how have you been, post mission? You were out of medical early… reports done, no other missions? Let your hair down?”

As if.

Steve scoffed, feeling the first ray of warm at your attempt at humour – and care. Fuck, he wished you cared as much as you used to.

“It was alright. The serum did its job,” he said matter-of-factly. “And paperwork’s done, but as for the last part…” he swallowed heavily, licking his lips as you tilted your head curiously to side, so damn endearing, the movement no different when you used to lean into his palm when he cupper your face. “You were— you were still in a hospital bed. Somehow, I didn’t feel like partying.”

Your face fell only a fraction; you both knew you were joking when you suggested him actually relaxing for once.

But it was evident you didn’t expect him to make this about you.

As if everything with him wasn’t; as if the last time he had let loose wasn’t when you had been still his.

“Well, mister, you really need to work on learning to let things go. You saved me from a nasty death and I was… fine, considering the circumstance. I am fine. I know you feel like you are the mum and dad of the team in one person, but you’re not responsible for everything that happens to the us.”

Steve closed his eyes, breathing in deeply; smelling the slightest hint of your perfume, the same perfume that used to sit on his on the shelf in his apartment once, his lungs burned as much as they had when he carried you through the HYDRA base.

He knew he shouldn’t think that, but screw the team you were talking about. Yes, he was responsible for them, yes, he did take it very seriously, because he would never leave a man behind should he be able to help it, but you. You, you, you.

You were all he cared for. A small pathetic man he was, wasn’t he?

“But I am. And you know it wasn’t just about the team,” he whispered, voice cracking against his will and when he opened his eyes again, it was to you gulping, your gaze lowering minutely.

He should have stopped there, seeing your reaction; but Steve Rogers was not a virtuous man. He was an asshole, he thought of himself; he said the rest of what was on his mind too.

”You know you’re the one person I couldn’t bear losing.”

Taking in a shaky breath, your eyes turned a little glassy – as if that year and a half, the whole 18 months of working on repairing your friendship after your break-up just disappeared, as if there was a hole in your heart still too, smaller than his, but still existing, even despite the ring tying you to another man.

“Steve-“

His name sounded so small on your lips and he felt like the cruellest man on Earth for doing this to you, immediately wanting to take his words back.

Yes, it was still there – but Steve had no right to do this to you. If he had his heart torn and bleeding, that was solely his problem; he had no right to be opening your own wound that had been so imperfectly stitched up when you moved on. He was the one clinging to the past – he always had; he was the one being too late – he always was. Not you.

You did owe him nothing, like he had said.

“Sorry, that was uncalled for-“ he stumbled over his words, having you smile through the single tear that rolled down your cheek, your unharmed arm curling around your torso protectively.

God, another stab to his heart and this one was solely on him; he hated seeing you hurt for any reason, but to hurt you on purpose? To make himself feel better, to spit the words sitting heavy in his mouth at this price? He was such a dick. Such a fool.

“I do know, Steve. I--- I hear you. I’m sorry.”

He shook his head gingerly, lips curling in a painful brave smile.

It wasn’t your fault. You had nothing to be sorry for. You had been ready to give him everything; but he wasn’t ready to take it if it meant giving you just as much in return.

“Don’t be,” he said firmly, swallowing the bile in his throat and borrowing some of your determination to face all the pain of the world. “Let’s forget about it, please. Let’s pretend I didn’t say that. Get better soon, yeah? We’ll grab a lunch or something, if you want.”

Please--- do want.

I’m begging you: don’t.

I cannot bear either.

I’m trapped in the labyrinth of your tender heart without a way out, the mythical Ariadne’s thread of your constant proximity only leading me deeper and deeper into the abyss, even if you’re the only way out, my only salvation.

“Yeah, sure,” you agreed quickly, the smile back to your face as if you truly tried your best to wipe out the last two minutes of the conversation from existence. “Thank you, again. For… you know, the whole saving my life thing. Have a good day, Steve.”

“You too.”

The door closed with finality, having Steve release a long breath as his chest still felt as if an elephant stomped on it, a crushing pain and suffocating weight.

God-dammit, Steve hated himself.

He hated himself for slipping, he hated himself for all the times he fucked up; he hated you and he hated Kerning the most.

But Lord knew that the man had done nothing wrong; the jerk probably couldn’t help falling in love with you. After all, you were just so easy to love, your magnetic personality, your heart-warming smile leaving nothing but broken hopes in its wake now that you promised yourself to another.

Steve might have been the one to risk his life and run into danger to save you, carrying you out in his arms until paramedics took over, but it was Kerning’s hands that held you as you fought for your life in the hospital. It was Kerning’s hands helping you up and holding you as you tried to find a comfortable position to sleep in, regained the strength for first steps after a week of being tied to a bed.

Steve might have yearned for your kisses he once had the honour to taste, but it was Kerning you kissed these days, on his cheek, on his mouth, maybe under his jaw and everywhere else.

Steve might have loved you, but he hadn’t been ready when you had and so it was just a ghost of you carrying the weight of his world after you walked away and took his heart with you.

Steve might have longed to be the one to make you his forever, but it was Kerning’s ring on your finger, announcing your engagement to the world.

It was Steve’s bottom drawer in his office desk hiding a still unanswered RSVP inviting him to your wedding; obscured from sight by a half-empty bottle of cheap gin spiced with Thor’s liquor, along with a ticket to the other side of the world for the very date of the wedding reception.

His ticket to get away from the one that got away, the one he wasn’t ready to give his everything, wasn’t ready to step down to be just another agent, because there were too many lives to save, too many missions to lead for he was given the serum, he had a responsibility and if you asked him now, now, he would throw it all away without a second thought, he would lay down his shield for one more kiss, one more loving smile, once more chance to have you in his arms beyond a brief friendly side-hug.

He had no right to want it anymore, let alone to have it.

What he did have was a plane ticket to get as far from your happy day as he could; and yet he knew that he could be a universe apart and the ‘yes’ you’d say to Agent Kerning would reach his ears and haunt his dreams in which he was the one standing by your side as you exchanged your vows.

Scoffing a humourless laugh, he ran a hand down his face and climbed to his feet. He had a meeting to attend and he was going to be late if he didn’t hurry.

Then again… he was always late, wasn’t he?

Did it matter when all he was going to be a few minutes late for was another dull and useless meeting concerning the world’s safety, where everything everyone ever did was talk, talk, talk, merely raising their voices rather than lifting a finger to protect the world they pretended to find so precious.

What did they know about precious? Steve had been too blind to see precious when you stood right in front of him, offering him the most precious gift of your heart. He thought himself a fool now, but compared to the idiots on the board, he was a prodigy.

No, he was in no rush to go.  

He opened the drawer reluctantly as if he was opening the pandora box itself, carefully avoiding the gin because whether he liked it or not, he couldn’t afford to smell like cheap liquor on a briefing. He pulled out the RSVP, golden letters with soft swirls, your and Kerning’s name and one cheap line stating the fact you were too in love to live apart anymore.

Steve closed his eyes as his free hand curled into a fist; as cheesy as the words sounded, he was all too familiar with such feeling. But there was no happy ending for him, no place for him in your future joy. And he needed to accept that; not just his brain but his traitorous heart too.

Gulping, he took a pen and circled a decisive no, adding a lame note.

No, he wouldn’t be coming, sorry. He hoped you’d have a lovely time. He couldn’t make it. We wished you both the best.

He had no right to write down the real reason he wouldn’t show up. That even if he’d arrive on time for the reception or the ceremony, he it would be too late. That he couldn’t bear seeing you promising yourself to someone who wasn’t him even if he loved you so much it might as well kill him.

He could bear carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, he was an infamous Atlas, he was used to that; but not his.

He hadn’t been lying when his tongue slipped, he meant what he had said.

You were the one person he couldn’t bear losing; not to death… not to another man. Not to anything, not to his own stupidity. He knew that now.

But as usual, time wasn’t on his side.

On his way to the meeting, he saw you talking to Natasha in the corridor. You smiled when you spied the familiar envelope; a small thank you, sweet and innocent, when he handed it to you, his face hurting from trying to reciprocate your smile.

He didn’t linger to see your face fall when you’d open it; it would crush him.

Yet deep inside, he was even more scared to see your relief when you’d find out you wouldn’t have to deal with him on the happiest day of your life.

“Captain. You’re late,” Fury stated, annoyance visible, and Steve didn’t have it in him to smile politely for the man when he replied, tone dry and sombre.

“Sorry. It’s a bad habit I cannot seem to shake.”

S.R. masterlist  // Complete masterlist 

…sorry 😇 *runs and hides forever*

I don’t know why I keep torturing the poor man when I adore him so much. But he’s fictional, he’ll get over it. Will I though? Probably not.

Thank you for reading 💕 I’ll tag my taggies in the morning.

#fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers angst #steve rogers #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america imagine #shield agent reader #marvel #mcu #bad habit #anika ann

[unladyboss]

SYDNEY'S and CARMY'S BAD HABIT

CARMY saw Sydney's post and asked her what her favorite Steve Lacy song was

She told him Bad Habit

He looked up the lyrics

He turned beet red

It kept him up that night

#the bear #carmy berzatto #sydney adamu #carmy x syd #love #music #steve lacy #bad habit #sydcarmy #slow burn #romance #relationship #carmy x claire #jaw #Jeremy Allen White #ayo edebiri #richie jerimovich #ebon moss bachrach #bose #emmy awards #golden globes #critics choice awards #sag awards #baftas

[moondee]

it’s biscuits, it’s gravy, babe ☺️

#moondee #moondeekitty #me #bad habit #Steve Lacy

[cheddar-baby]

#audio #steve lacy #music #bad habit #gemini rights

[coffeexxcigarettes]

If you never listen to anything I post, I pray you listen to this.

The way I want them to touch me to this guitar dragging is INSANE.

I listen to this while I'm jogging, like I'm not about to bust.

Nerv had rent due and baby, I'll pay it. I'LL PAY IT BABY. I'm SCREAMING. The guitar guys. Listen to me. I could talk about this song forever. Look at me in my eyes and tell you don't want to be absolutely worshipped to this. You can't.

I won't be taking any questions at this time. LOL

#new music #music suggestions #rock #alternative rock #guitar #youre addictive #bad habit #nerv #lyrics #that's good #good music #so sick #Spotify