#still didn't seem like something i really wanted to eat so added some maple syrup

[beeseverywhen]

Just invented a new food. Was making some porridge and ran out of milk and watery porridge seemed like something I wouldn't eat so I added some fruit smoothie that was in the fridge

[bunny-wk-fanfic]

This Is Brought To You By

The door opened to a rustic cabin, the natural wood glowing amber thanks to a roaring fire. Worn dark leather seating seemed hazy thanks to said fire light, each piled with plush pillows and draped with cozy throws or blankets. A low table had been laid out with candles, a bottle of wine was being kept chilled in a classy and slightly modern ice bucket with two glasses just off to the side. The only splash of color amongst the glow of the fire, the natural wood and stone textures were a small handful of red roses, loose petals just lightly scattered about. With the help of the slow jazz playing softly in the background, it made for a very romantic atmosphere.

"Well, hello there." the male voice was a slightly low purring drawl, drawing attention to the male figure sprawled across an almost stereotypical bear rug. "Deadpool here. Hopefully, while reading this, you're hearing the voice of a certain sexy male Canadian. I'm sure you know the one. And I don't mean the short, hairy one with anger issues and kitty claws and a fondness for cigars. Unless of course said angry man is being represented by a beautiful, beautiful wild Australian man. Because if then, well, lather me in hot sauce and spank my Chimichanga. But I'm getting off track here."

Fingers drummed against a knee, drawing the attention to the missing and familiar red and black outfit, and more importantly, to the lack of proper attire.

"Yes, my current outfit has to do with the reason we are here today. It's come to my attention, that it's been some time since we last met, or that our beloved writer has written anything involving our favorite woman. And more importantly, our favorite woman when involved with me." a single white rose was plucked from behind, waved about as if a magic wand, and dragged across a scarcely clad male thigh that was pocked with fresh wounds that were instantly scaring. "As such, I decided to… encourage our beloved writer into bringing us all together once again."

With a dramatic wave of limbs, he moved from reclining on his side, that screamed 'Paint my like your French women', to leaning back on his elbows. The pale pink satin nighty, the atmosphere, and the pose would have been more than alluring were the one in said pose a woman. With the male, the nighty was rather comically stretched across his frame, though covering everything important, the sheer robe with fluffy cuffs only adding to the oddity of the entire situation. It clashed with the fact that he still wore his iconic red and black full head cowl.

"Now, our lovely writer might say otherwise about my encouragement, calling it nagging, whining or say I simply began to annoy her until she finally relented. Ignore those words and continue to read mine with the amazing drawl of a voice provided by the Canadian sex symbol; my pal, my bosom buddy, Ryan Reynolds." the white rose bobbed to the beat of the low music, tapping against a hip every so often.

"Now, back unto the reason why we're here. Honestly? I was lonely and wanted some cuddles with my lovely, lovely Kagome." noticing that it was just the male lounging in the open living space, he was quick to wave a hand. "Don't worry, don't worry! My girl is currently enjoying a much-needed hot bubble bath. One, I wish I was taking part of, but felt this little conversation was, at the time, more prudent. How could I feel that? Simple. I had the desire that everyone read this in Reynolds voice, nothing more and nothing less. Though if we are asking for more, and I know what you all want, I on the other hand, wouldn't mind lathering my girl in rich and real Canadian maple syrup and eating my midnight pancake snacks off of her, but maybe later. So while Kagome is taking this time to prepare for a very adventurous night right here on this vegan friendly-faux-bear fur rug, I'll fill that time with hanging out with you lovely little readers. Because without you, though more so my unannounced arrival and delayed departure, we wouldn't be here right now."

Happy humming could now be heard from behind a closed door just off to the side, the male giving a little jiggle in his spot in excitement. The rose momentarily used to fan himself, though just how useful it was as such, needed to be questioned at a later time.

"Now I'm sure there are a few things you all wish to talk about; my last movie with the fridge trope, which I myself can only say thanks to the writers for that one. Thanks guys, I've always wanted more trauma and torture to sprinkled in my life." a finger was wagged, tongue tisking against his teeth, though the sound was slightly muffled due to his mask.

"Or when my next film will come out, and if so, will it be part of the Marvel Universe. This is where you show your true love and devotion. I ask you, lovely readers, to go out and use the internet, haul out the trolls if need be, and ask, beg, and cry for me to be part of Marvel. Not that I want to, not really, it's just principle. What with their large budgets, CGI teams, writers, directors and a full cast. Honestly, a whole school of mutants gone save for three at a single extended time? For what purpose, 'cause I doubt they all went on some sort of field trip or vacation, but what do I know, I failed out of 5th grade. But, not really." his head tipped to the side, possibly staring in the direction of where the bathroom was, it was hard to tell with his face actually covered to know for sure.

"I mean, who wants to be part of that depressing team? All that self-sacrificing for the greater good?" he gave a few bobs of the rose in his hand as his head tipped back, almost as if in contemplation. "Though let's be honest, we all know I would survive an alien with a California Raisin on steroids for a chin, snapping their fingers. And then I'd introduce said alien to my Desert Eagles Mark XIX while recruiting Ant-Man to tickle where the sun never shines before becoming… Anti-Ant-Man? I honestly don't know what to call him in his Ultraman form, wait, does that make him a magical-boy or a science-boy? Right, Ant-Man shrinking to tickle where sun don't shine for hurting my favorite Web-Head super bro." the rose now tapped where his mouth was, though again, it was hidden by his mask. "And it would be super hot to watch Kagome kick his ass. I wonder what she would wear… Something skin tight? Revealing? Her old school uniform?"

A door opening, even though quiet, drowned out his muttering, the candles flickered as steam billowed out of the bathroom before quickly dissipating the further it billowed into the open space. "Are you talking to White and Yellow again?" a female figure left the dark bathroom, her form covered with a short semi sheer dark pink bathrobe of her own. Her hands were raised just enough to free her hair from beneath the robe, though she paused when she really took a look at the sprawled out male. "...I thought that was supposed to be a gift for me?"

Snickering, he trailed the rose down from his mouth, his neck, down his chest stopping just above his stomach. "Don't you think I look sexy in this?" it was always so amusing to tease and rile her when he wore risqué outfits, namely hers.

Finishing in freeing her hair, she eyed his form. Yes, his skin was pocked and disfigured from him constantly getting open sores and his abilities nearly immediately healing them. But beyond that, his form was all carved muscle, no doubt from years of being a mercenary. While yes, he was larger with the shoulders strong, he had a slight swimmer's build. It didn't lack-

"Ah, sorry for the intermission. Our writer took a few days to… deal with life I guess. How boring." shoulders shrugged, waving off the confused expression from his fairer companion. "Of course, it would happen when describing my awesome and amazingly sexy self." an actual pout could be seen through his mask.

"I will admit, you are sexy." the purring drawl from Kagome drew his attention again, her words and tone revealing she either decided she was going to ignore him going off tangent or just that she was used to it at this point, body freezing when her hands began with removing the sash that kept her own coverings secure. "I'm just not sure that shade of pink is quite your color. Maybe you should stick to your usual colors?"

The moment, the robe dropped and pooled around her feet, revealed a feminine figure dripping in curves with subtle musculature that showed she kept up with her own training, he froze. She wore a set of red and black satin and lace that covered pale skin. It covered a little more than what most would normally deem sexy lingerie, with slightly wider straps, but they accentuated her curves, drawing attention to them. And the thin ribbons that accompanied and mimicked, as well as help the lace that helped cover stiffening peeks, made her look more like a present just waiting to be unwrapped.

"Well, what do you think of my gift to you?" legs crossed slightly as hands once again rose to lift her hair to both reveal her neck and shoulders as well as lift her chest, she stood posed before him, basking in the golden glow of the fireplace behind him.

The white rose that had been resting near his hip instantly perked up, a white petal flying off at the somewhat harsh and sudden movement. Despite it being a mask, the white 'eyes' widened as the mask shifted to show that his jaw dropped.

"I'll take your silence as a, 'I likey'?" she giggled as she dropped her hands, they followed the curves of her body, no doubt drawing his gaze from behind the mask to follow with. Slowly, with a slight predator grace, she lowered to her knees and began to crawl up his form, leaving a trail of kisses behind her that glittered from both the fire light as well as her own abilities to help heal him.

Tossing the rose without a care, he reached forward to trace her curves for himself, not stopping as her own hands reached forward to lift and remove his mask. Lips curved up when she reached forward to kiss him. It was sweet, a simple press of her lips against his own. His smile grew when he quickly ended the sweetness by reaching for that delightful curve of her ass that shook playfully in his grasp.

The gasp that was let out was easily and eagerly swallowed, tongue dipping between lush lips to tangle with her own. With where his grip was, he pulled her closer to settle in his lap. Trailing lips away from her own to nip down her jaw and neck, he smirked against her warm skin.

Pausing, brown eyes narrowed as he turned away from the purring woman in his lap. "Oi, what are you still doing here? This ain't no peep-show! Go away. Read a book, play a game, watch a movie. I hear that new one about a guy named Guy wanting to be free or something, is worth the watch. And if my pal Ryan is in it, ya know it's good. Now," a hand reluctantly left the span of leg it had been caressing with a waving motion. "Shoo."

Turning away, leaving behind the couple and the sounds of giggles and kissing echoed loudly over the crackles and pops from the fireplace. A quick squeal that turned into laughter that was followed by a masculine whine at the sound of fabric tearing just set the pace of what was to come. And who was in charge of this nights shenanigans. A door closing muffled the sounds as the cool evening draped across the forest, leaving only the crickets in the distance and even further off cries of wolves the only sounds to echo.

Message delivered, though the exacts of what the message actually was seemed to have been lost. But it had been shared, and that seemed to be all that had been important. It did leave questions of what the future held, and if there would be any further important messages that would need to be shared. Who knows. Guess the game of 'wait and see' was going to have to be played.

AN: Don't ask. Please don't. I will say this, I was at work when I literally/figuratively heard Deadpool/Ryan Reynold's voice pop out from no where and bug me until I started writing this down. And when I lost the flow for a few days, it came back until I managed to finish it. So now I'm posting it here and cleaning my hands of it. I hope you can find some enjoyment in, I know I'm going to enjoy the peace and quiet.

As always; read, enjoy, and please review! - BunnyWK

[prompt-master]

The student slams their hands down on her podium.

"I'm telling you, they didn't eat that fucking grilled cheese willingly!" She shouts. "Prom hates mayonnaise!! I know that for a fact!!"

A collective groan sounds through the trial room. This discussion has gone on for far too long. People are starting to get tired. Suspicious even. The student won't let it go, and though there's no way to really prove them wrong, everyone just wants her to shut up about it. You can't just ask a dead body about their condiment preferences. The whole conversation seems completely pointless.

Even Monokuma looks bored. You can't help but relate to him a little, ignoring how much that thought disgusts you. The trial had been really, really uneventful. Accusations without evidence thrown about like confetti, trains of thought that end up shoved off the rails before they can even leave the station, leads that go nowhere, pointless arguments over the most trivial of topics, and throughout the whole nine hours of debate, that robotic bear grew more and more restless, even calling recesses for us to investigate more.

Even the detective is starting to get irritated. They didn't find anything condemning on the body, and even after interrogating the other students, nothing shocking or revealing came up.

You didn't find anything good either. In fact, you haven't spoken for most of the trial. There was just nothing to say that hadn't already been said.

The victim got up sometime before the nighttime announcement, after the group agreed to tuck in early. Monokuma, bored with how little progress we were making, confirmed the fact that the victim had planned to grab a snack before heading back to their room, before the doors to the dining hall were locked.

Obviously, they didn't make it.

One student kept saying the toxic grilled cheese had been force-fed to them. They kept saying the victim would never eat mayonnaise willingly, and since that was the main source of poison (It was also, like, everywhere. If the victim hated it, they wouldn't have put so much on), it made her statement kind of difficult to believe.

There was one thing that kind of supported her theory. The tainted jar in question had no label, nor did it have a prominent scent. It was only identified as mayonnaise by one of the other students who had a very well-developed sense of smell, and was able to get past the sweet maple-syrup scent of the antifreeze. It was possible the victim mistook the mayonnaise for something else, but even then, it would be unlikely. Mayonnaise has a very distinct taste, even with heaps of poison added, so if they really hated it they would have spat it out immediately. Only a tired idiot would keep eating something they despised of their own free will.

Monokuma let out a very dramatic sigh.

"You know, I'm getting reeeal tired of this. If you kiddies don't find anything interesting soon, I might just execute one of you as compensation." He growled in that annoying voice of his. "This trial is taking wayy too long!"

Those words got us on edge. Some of the others started accusing the student while she went on about her theory. One student yelled at Monokuma for being unfair. You and the detective shared a look. This wasn't good.

One student, who'd been quiet the whole time, suddenly cleared their throat.

"I may be going out on a limb here, but...." They waited for the others to calm down before continuing. "Do you think the victim ate the mayonnaise without knowing it was mayonnaise? Antifreeze has a very sweet taste and smell. They could have mistook it for something else."

"And you are..?" You ask.

"Ultimate Auto Racer." They reply. "I work with antifreeze. I don't know about arsenic, but I do know you can easily eat antifreeze without knowing it's toxic."

The detective crosses their arms in thought. Monokuma perks up and leans out of his slumped position, almost as if electrified.

"Even so, why would they put something sweet on a grilled cheese? That's kind of an acquired taste." You say. "If we're going off the assumption they don't like mayonnaise."

Everyone is thinking now. The accusations aren't thrown around anymore. The whole trial room is quiet.

"Maybe...maybe they're right." One student pipes up quietly. "Maybe Prom thought it was something else. Maybe they didn't taste it before they put it on the sandwich."

They looked around the room timidly, shrinking under everyone else's gaze. They obviously didn't like attention.

"I-I mean, what if they thought it was butter? L-Like the jar wasn't that big, and mayo k-kind of looks like butter spread...." The student shoved out quickly. "With no label they wouldn't know, right..?"

"That's.... actually a valid point." The detective says approvingly. The student offers a small smile in response, but doesn't say anything else. Speaking up must not be their strong suit.

"It was late, right?" Another student cuts in. "We were all tired. The last execution left us all drained, since it kind of.....went wrong near the end. The victim could have been super out of it and wanted food to keep the off their mind."

"Like stress eating, but to cope with something? I do that myself, so it's not unbelievable. The victim could be like that, for all we know." Yet another adds.

"What if it wasn't intended for Prom? Like, someone else here probably really likes mayo, maybe they messed with it in hopes of killing them instead!"

"You saying the victim was a tired idiot then?"

"Do you know them enough to say otherwise?"

"Gad, this whole trial is confusing... We don't even know the victim that well, how are supposed to their killer? There's no drama to work with!"

"Maybe they grabbed the mayo thinking it was butter." The detective mused. "And when they tasted it, it probably didn't taste too much like mayo, with all that antifreeze added to it. Maybe they were too tired to remake it. The victim was on a time limit after all."

You furrow your brow in thought. The others a kind of making sense, but it's not much to go off of. You still don't know who poisoned the mayonnaise in the first place.

"Let's say that did happen. We still don't know who poisoned it." A new speaker scoffs, practically reading your thoughts exactly. "All this talk won't get us anywhere if we don't have a real suspect."

The miniscule amount of energy in the room dissolved. They were right, everyone knew it, but it'd been nice to think we were going somewhere.

The quiet student from before clears their throat. Anyone who isn't talking or spouting theories turns to look at them again.

"If, um, it's any consolation, I just remembered something...."

The detective holds up a hand to shut up the person next to them. You do the same. Eventually the trial room calms down enough for the student to talk. Monokuma giggles.

They take a deep breath, like whatever's on their mind is really hard to say. "I....I did see someone mucking around in the storage closet."

A truly riveting murder trial and I hope after playing it people discourse about my character simply because they hated it and people argue over whether or not i was a good person and the answer to that question is a mysterious wink

[hs-devote]

7. H O U R G L A S S

Moodboard // Content // Masterlist

Disclaimer:

All characters and situation in this story are fictitious. Resemblance to any person living or dead is only God knows.

Previous chapter :

“I'm close, H! I'm close.”

“Cum with me, baby. Cum with me.”

Y/N cried out when she releases, arching her back made her breast went up in the air. Harry moaned when he spurted his load inside her, filling up her warm cunt. Yet they were riding out their high together, Harry's length still hard and stiff inside her. He rested his forehead against her, giving her small peck on the swollen lips. Harry collapsed next to her, Y/N snuggled to him – hugging his body. They were silent for a moment, letting their lungs gasping for oxygen.

7. HOURGLASS

Her eyes fluttered open, looking at the empty side next to her. She sat up right away, averted her gaze around to find Harry. Y/N wrapped the comforter around her naked body before lowering her feet to the floor. She smiled seeing at small note latched on the nightstand.

I'm on the kitchen if you wake up and find this note. You can wear my shirt if you want to. I hung it in the closet. H x

She put down the paper. When she was about to go to his closet, she was shocked to see how messy his room was. The sheet was sprawled open, her panties were thrown away from the bed whilst her bra was nowhere to be found. The cushions was laying far in the corner. Were they that wild last night?

No, last night was nothing wild. They didn’t damage the bed nor the linen. She was pretty sure Harry could go wild anytime more than last night if he wanted. Her stomach growled from hunger, the sound made her laugh. She had to get out and meet Harry in the kitchen once she finished dress up.

Her legs were a bit sore when she walked, yet she brushed it off. This wasn't her first time wandering around his massive walk-in closet, she remembered the first time she was in there, her jaw hung open due to the large and luxurious his closet. That day, Harry asked her to get his tie. She got confused since there were so many drawers and wardrobes he had. Well, she would laugh if she remembered that.

Y/N instantly spotted his plain white shirt which was too big for her. Nonetheless, she still wore it. She liked it more than her own shirt since she didn't keep her baggy shirts here.

She did keep spare her clothes in Harry’s wardrobe. Of course, it was Harry idea. Y/N often spent her free time at Harry’s house, and most of them ended with her stayed a night or two. He thought that it would be better if his girlfriend kept some spare clothes.

Screw the bra. There were a few of them in the top drawer but I want freedom this morning.

Y/N didn’t want to snoop around, but seeing Harry's clothes hung neatly was such a sight for herself. Her nose smelt Harry's familiar perfume around the closet – made her want to stay a little bit longer.

Her boyfriend was such a neat freak. Harry arranged his clothes according to the brands, the purpose, and colour. He had two wardrobes dedicated to his favourite designer. Yves Saint Laurent and Gucci. He really loved those two brands, and had a good relationship with their designers. It wasn’t a surprise there was plenty of custom outfit from them that Y/N had never seen before.

Then, her eyes caught a shabby leather journal laid on top of his tie drawer, written an H 1994 in front of it with a picture a child embedded. That must be Harry.

Her curiosity about Harry's childhood pictures made her grabbed the journal. Y/N giggled over his photograph; little Harry was so cute with his brown hair. In the picture he wore a blue shirt underneath the cream coloured overalls, his smile was so big showing his bunny teeth. Sitting at the velvet chair, she opened the journal – hoping to find his childhood pictures. But all she found was writings. At first, she wanted to return it back, but the dates were written made her curious. All of them.

January 11th 2003 I didn't know where is my fault. They keep to hate me

January 15th 2003 Friends are horrible

This wasn’t a photo book. This was his childhood diary.  She shouldn’t have opened Harry’s diary, surely it was a secret.

There was no way photo album is in a journal, you stupid girl! Her inner goddess scowled.

Her mind told her to return the journal to its previous place, but her inquisitiveness was too high. She gathered her determination before continuing to read.

February 1st 2003 My birthday and no one knows, except mum

February 9th 2003 Everyone hates me

March 12th 2013 Why he hates me and mum so much?

March 29th 2013 He hurt mum

April 3rd 2013 He hurt me

May 1st 2013 I don't like him

August 18th 2013 Football is nice

August 25th 2013 They love my football

September 1st 2013 Dale was awful. I was crying. Everyone was laughing. Mum was sad.

September 12th 2003 Who was the abusive one? Dale? Father?

September 13th 2003 He kicked me

September 14th 2003 He punched my tummy. It's hurts

September 20th 2003 Dale hit me everywhere. But why I couldn't feel it?

October 1st 2003 That feels nice

October 9th 2003 I can't feel my face

October 25th 2003 Poor little pigeon

November 6th 2003 He's stronger than ever

December 1st 2003 What happened?

Y/N closed the journal harshly, too many conclusions was spinning in her brain. The more she thinking about it, the more theories that emerge. Y/N couldn't just draw a conclusion, her brain urged her to ask Harry about that, but her heart holding it back. She didn’t want herself to fall deeper into his confide, she had to stop before curiosity killed her. With various questions raging inside her head, Y/N returned the journal to its original place and immediately went out to meet her boyfriend.

She could see Harry was cooking from the way he held a pan. His upper body bare due to lack of clothes, his fern tattoos visible due to sweatpants hanging low in his hips. Her eyes went down to his happy trail, reminded her of how good he pounded into her last night. Just imagined it made her shudder.

Y/N smiled of how focused he was when he made breakfast, forehead wrinkled while his tip tongue was sticking out. She was busy adoring him with her body leaned to the door frame. Felt like someone was watching him, Harry averted his gaze. He found his girlfriend watched him with a smile on her face, standing cutely in his shirt that way too baggy for her –exposing her delicate legs. Harry was sure she only wore underwear beneath since the shirt fell on her thighs and she was wearing no pants. Harry saw her semi hard nipples through the fabric. He shook his head instantly, if he glanced at it longer than intended, he might have Y/N as his breakfast.

“Good morning, love. I'm making pancake, should be ready in ten minutes. Do you want anything else?” He asked while flipping the pan.

“Pancake is good.” She hummed, walking towards him. “Be careful, we don't want the pancake to fall, do we?”

“Don't underestimate my ability, baby. Go take a seat, and sit there beautifully.”

Y/N shrugged, pulling a seat near her. A moment after, Harry turned off the stove and put the pancake on her plate. She gave him a quick thanks then laughing when she realised her pancake had a shape of a bear's head. She took a quick glance of Harry's plate, finding one with a shape of frog's head.

“What do you want to put on top of it? I have… berries, honey, maple syrup, powdered sugar, err... jam?” Harry asked with his head dug into his massive fridge.

“Berries will be fine.”

Harry pulled out his head with a bowl of berries and a maple syrup in each hand. His foot closed the fridge door. Y/N thanked him for the berries. She looked at Harry who was pouring maple syrup to his pancake and slice the banana on top of it.

“I didn't know you have this cute pancake mould.” She giggled, “This is too cute to eat! I can't even bear to cut it.”

“I found them when I was opening the top drawer. I forgot that I had it because I never used it.” He shrugged, cutting the pancakes. But, her shrieking made him jump and dropping the knife.

“What's wrong?” He asked while taking the knife, put it on the end and took a new one.

“You destroyed the frog's face!” Y/N gasped then laughing softly. Harry stunned in his seat, then looking at his frog pancake which has been split in two.

“Don't shock me like that, baby. Just eat them. I can make more if you want to keep it as a collection.” He laughed, scooping a piece into his mouth.

“This is delicious but I can't stop thinking about a bear head inside my mouth.” Y/N spoke while chewing her pancakes. Harry just shook his head over the silliness of his girlfriend.

They ate in silence, only the sound of the television and soft noises of cutlery clashing with plates were audible. Their attention was directed on the TV that was broadcasting the graphic of company shares in U.K. Y/N was stunned when she saw Machtig's stock chart that went quite far, almost balance with Erskine at the moment. Both of them are in the top five. She looked at Harry who seems unbothered.

“Polygram did that.” Is all he said, nothing more, like answering the look from Y/N. “It's common in the business world.” He added. Then her mind rolling to a few days back, when Harry told her something about Dale bullied him. And, his writings on that journal about him that made her sad.

“Harry, darling.”

Harry smirked at the way Y/N called him with pet names. He knew very well that his lover wanted to ask something that possible worrying her, because that was starting to become her habit.

“Go on, love.”

“I remember the day when you told me that Dale Jespersen was bullying you when you were a child. Is that... is that true?” She asked softly, “I understand if you don't want to talk about it.”

Harry just stared at her, his face was flat with no emotion. She didn’t know if this is a good or bad sign. She cursed her foolishness deep inside her heart when Harry said nothing.

“Dale Jespersen was my school friend when we went to same primary school in Birmingham – before I moved to Manchester. I used to be the nerd one in my class.” He said, “I never really come play with them. Since one thing I knew that time was... I have to get good grades so my mum would be happy. Apparently, some kids think otherwise. He and his friends always said I was arrogant. Until one day, I thought it was never hurt to try... play with them. I began to open up, sparing my time to play football after school ended – before coming home, even though it just a quick play.”

Y/N silently heard Harry's explanation, want nothing than be a good listener. Harry paused for a while before continuing. His head, which had been looking down, slowly looked her up. His eyes became dull, seemed like he just told her something sad.

“It's okay if you don't want to go forward, darling. I don't have to know the whole story if you feel uncomfortable.” She said with concern. Her hand stretching out to rub his hand. But he just shook his head, ready to continue.

“I became an idol in the field because I could show them my skills in football. He didn't like his attention was taken by me. He made up a story that I beat my mum because according to him, he saw my mother was crying in our yard when he passed by. I confront him, and long story short, he made me his punching bag.”

Y/N gasped, her palm covering her mouth in disbelief. “You didn't do that, did you?”

Harry chuckled, “Who do you believe? Me or him?”

“Of course, i believe you, Harry. I just... didn't expect something like that.” She murmured, “But you're okay now, no grudges yeah?”

Harry leaned back, looking at her with a subtle smirk on his lips. Laughing silently at how clueless this girl in front of him. If only she knew.

Y/N didn't realise that the person who had been talking about Dale's cruelty, have different eyes to someone who made her breakfast this morning. Little did she know, every single word that came out from his mouth, the eyes getting darker than usual.

. . . .

Harry only could curl up, hugging his knees every time his back received a whipped from someone who should protect him. His mother was out, so clearly he couldn't ask anyone for help. He really wanted to cry, but he couldn't. If he cried, the whipped would get stronger.

“You fucking little bullshit!”

Deep inside his heart, he prayed his mother come home soon.

God listened to his prayer when he heard the front door being open. He immediately ran to his bedroom upstairs when the whipped stopped. Harry was breathing rapidly, he must quick search a safe spot in his room. Although he wasn't sure that would protect him well. He locked the door, moving his whatever in his room that he thought was heavy enough to hold the door.

He looked at himself in the mirror, slowly lifted up his shirt. He whimpered when he saw the scar on his back, still fresh and red. He blinked his eyes to let the tears rolling down his cheek. Harry wanted to tell his mother, but he didn't have any bravery.

How could a father do that to a nine year old child?

Harry didn't understand.

Sunday morning was supposedly being fun because you could have quality time with your family. Apparently not for Harry. He woke up when he heard her mother screaming, his feet quickly take him downstair to only find his father was grabbing his mother hair until her head tilted. She looked in pain, his knuckles grip tightly to her roots. Harry was frozen in the stairs, eyes widened to a sight in front of him.

Whatever would happen, he must help his mother.

Then, he ran and yelled. Kicking his father in the legs, made the older man stumbled a bit. Harry hurried to his mother, asking if she was okay, and hug her. But, the father didn't like it. He grabbed Harry's collar and dragging him to the floor. His breath choked up when he felt the father's hand circling around his neck, putting pressure in it.

Her mother was screaming in tears, watching her husband strangled her son. She tried to let go of him, but he shoved her back and slapped her head.

She must be able to protect her child, and herself. Ignoring the burning sensation on her face, she pulled her husband and took him out of the house.

“You fucking whore! Your little bastard must be taught a lesson!”

She crinkled her face when the scent of alcohol and cigarettes wafted from his mouth. “Get out! Don't come to me and my son again!”

The father looked at her and the small boy next to her in disgust. He spitted to the asphalt and went away. Harry was silent, but not with his mother. He could hear her sad cry. The only thing he could do now is; hug her. As he did now. Didn't care if they look pathetic in their front yard.

Two weeks was nice without his father. He didn't come home, and Harry prayed he wouldn't be. Until the nightmare paid them a visit as his father show up in their door, looking for his mother. The pathetic man was asking for some money to his wife. But of course she wouldn't give him. She was struggling enough to work and get a nice pay job, how the hell she gave him money from her hard work for free?

Everything went fast. Harry defended his mother, but end up his father beating him up in their yard. His mother was laying unconscious in the living room due to punched she got. Harry accepted every hit, every jab, every punch. He wanted to fight. But he didn't want his mother to be next his target if he did that. He could only surrender.

What could a small child like him do? He didn't know.

Every kick, every smack, every pain. He absorbed well. Until he only could feel anger, hate, hurt. No, he wouldn't let this pathetic old man beat him again. Not him. Not his mother. He smiled through the pain. No, he couldn't feel the pain. He didn't feel any pain. He felt numb. It was like a tickle to him. He rose, holding his father's hands.

How came?

He endured effortlessly. The last thing he remembers was, he gave the man in front of him – who was confused, a flat smile before pinning his father's hand to the opposite direction. A small crack made him screaming in pain, but made Harry smile in satisfied.

Harry felt strange, his father still tried to make his mother and his life miserable. Yes, he was abusive. But a few days back, he only threw things when he mad, didn't do anything physically. He should have be relieved a little, but his little head had some questions.

Harry didn't know why his mother did not leave him already. If they were hurt, why they should stay?

Once abusive, would still abusive.

His father was acting up again. Harry was in his room, doing his homework when his father broke down his door and rummaged the room – like was looking for something.

“Where is it?” Voice hoarse, hands opening every single drawer in the room.

“What are you looking for?” Harry asked.

“You should be keeping some money from Anne, right? Where?”

“I won't tell you. I need them to buy some books.”

Hearing what his son just said, it did something in him. He didn't like the answer. Then, he stomped to Harry, pulling his shirt. Harry was scared, his body trembled so badly.

“I need them more than you! Fuck that stupid books, I want the money!”

Harry shook his head, his mother was working her ass off to be able to provide what he needs. An education, for a better future. There was no way he would give up the money for his father's unnecessary wants. He cried in pain when his father hit his head, throwing him to the corner, and kick his legs. Over and over again.

In the blink of an eye, his father was shocked when he felt pain in his head. He looked at Harry in disbelief, his palm felt wet – and realise it was blood dripping from his back head. Harry in front of him was panting hard, his face was showing no emotion, with the hand gripping a brick. How come he had a brick in his bedroom?

Both of them heard a gasp from the door, finding Anne standing right there. Harry could see his father ran to her, and yelling about what he did to him.

“He hit my head with a brick! Your fucking son keep bricks in his room to attack me!”

Anne averted his gaze towards Harry, looking for evidence. “Is that true, Harry?” Her voice quivered. Harry shook his head, his expression was flat, no guilt at all. “No, I'm not holding anything in my hands. See?”

He stretched out his bare hand, no bricks were seen. His father yelled again, accused him of being a liar because he was sure that Harry hit him with bricks. Anne sighed and led her husband out. Leaving Harry alone. She didn't know who to believe. But clearly, Harry never lied to her.

Little did they know, Harry was laughing right after them both gone. His eyes glanced at the corner of his bed, where the brick was laid.

After that accident, his parents never talk about it. Either Anne did believe him, or his father really thought he was hallucinating. Harry really didn't care.

Christmas was only a few days. When other families worked together to decorate their house, it wasn't for Harry. His father's drunken face was somewhere they didn't know, only Harry and his mother were ecstatic about the eve. His favourite moment was when its snows in the morning and at night. If people sometimes complain about the thickness of the snow, Harry liked it instead. He liked that white – soft thing.

He ran outside when realising the snow was showering that morning, his thick clothes protected him from the cold weather outside. He sat on the snow in his yard, looking at the empty streets. Then, he saw a white pigeon sheltering under a tree from the snow. It was alone, without a friend. Harry barely recognised it if only he wasn't under a tree, its colour was almost like snow.

Without him knowing, his feet brought him close to it. He squatted in front of the pigeon, and strangely the bird was not afraid. It let itself be lifted by Harry, feeling the warmth from the hands of the human who was holding it.

“Why are you alone? Where's your family?” Harry hummed, stroking its feathers. “You must feel sad because you're alone.. in this cold morning.”

Harry kept stroking its feathers, patted the small head. “You're with no family, are you?”

Then, his hand stopped – but still holding the pigeon, as aware of something. He lifted the pigeon so its parallel with his eyes. “You better be with your other friends and family up there, not here. In here.. is cruel. Too cruel for small things like you.”

Harry didn't remember anything until his flustered face looking at the pigeon in horror. It was laying stiff with blood almost covering its small body. The blood staining the white feathers. He gasped when he found a bloody knife not far from his feet. Both of his hands also were covered by the pigeon's blood.

What did he do?

His heart was racing, hands trembling, tears were falling down to his face. He was so scared.

Harry could hear his mother screaming from his behind. He glanced back, saw his mother standing there with a shocked face, scared.. he couldn't even describe it. Then he saw the lifeless pigeon again in his hand. He did kill it.

. . . .

“See! Your fucking son is a murderer!”

Harry whimpered in the corner, his father was back and now having an argument with his mother. They didn't even have proper Christmas celebration since his father step his foot in the Christmas morning. He heard Anne confronted Harry about killing the poor pigeon. That was the worst morning for Harry, how could his mother bring it up in the Christmas morning!? They should gather around to open the presents instead of accusing him of something like... that.

“I was asking Harry, not you.”

“Now you believe me. Once, he hit me with brick. Second, he killed an animal. What's next? Burning this fucking house on fire?! This psychopath's little shit must be taken away before he harms others!”

Harry just shook his head, palms covering his ears. He didn't want to hear it.

No.

“How could you call your son a psychopath's?! He's just a child. He did know nothing!”

He couldn't take it anymore. He didn't want his Christmas turned into a nightmare. He got up, running to his room, slamming the door and locked it. He cried and cried. He didn't know why he killed the pigeon. The last thing he remembered was.. patting its head.

Christmas walked so the new year eve could come closer. He didn't have anything to celebrate. After the Christmas incident, his mother was keeping a distance from him and talked to him as needed. It broke his heart. Every night before he went sleep, he always wondering.. why his mother didn't believe him. Why he did that. Why God always makes him sad.

It was the morning after the new year, last night he spent the count down with sitting on the roof. Waiting for fireworks to appear in the night sky even he didn't like the sound of it. It was better than the sound of silence.

He bet his father was out last night, probably went to a local bar and downing for alcoholic drinks there.  He didn't care. Yet, then he heard screaming from the kitchen, he saw her mother try to shove away from his father.

“Give me that money, Anne! I need them!”

“No! I don't have any. Go away!”

“You fucking liar!” He saw his father hit his mother with cutting board to her head. Harry scared, really scared. Didn't what to do. But, the time he saw blood dripping to her face, he felt anger burned into him. He ran to them, taking the vegetable knife from the counter and stab his father's arm.

His father was screaming in agony, while his mother stared at him with utter shock – still gripping her bloody head. Harry was standing there with a knife in his hand, watching his father grimacing in pain. His mother could see the flat emotion in Harry's face. No scared look. No anger look. Nothing.

Harry was locked up in his room after that. He didn't know what his parents would do with their bloody wounds. He did care about his mother, but no with his father. He just sleeps, waiting for whatever would happen tomorrow.

It felt like he had only slept for a few hours when he woke up forcefully, he was dragged from his bed by someone.

Who else was if it wasn't his father?

Harry tried to run away, but he felt weak because he cried all night in his sleep.

Where was his mother?

He was forced into the car, both of his hands were tied together. His body was held by the safety belt in the back seat. His eyes were covered with cloth, so he didn't know where he was going.

He felt the car stopped after one hour drive, he thought. He heard the door opened, following by harsh tug of the cloth covering his eyes. His father untied his hand and pulled his out from the car.

Harry was looking around. There were lots of little kids here, but where it is?

He really wanted to run away, but he didn't dare because he didn't want his mother to get hit again because of him. His priority now was his mother safety.

“His name is Harry. I found him was crying in front of his parents grave. So I think it's best to take him here, so someone can take care of him.”

His head lifted up, looking at his father in disbelief. What did he mean?

“Of course. Did you relate to him?”

“No, I was asking him if he has a family. But he's alone himself.”

The lady who was speaking with his father, crouching down to his level. She seemed nice, smiling at him. But his smile faltered when he heard those words that crashing down his life.

“Hi, I'm Elis. We will take good care of you. Don't worry, Harry. You will get a new family in this orphanage.”

. . . .

“What are you planning for Christmas?”

Last night, Abbie called Y/N if she could get breakfast together this morning since both of them wasn't so busy at the moment. Of course Y/N glad to hear that, it had been a while since she met her friend. Now here they were, having meals in the little breakfast cafe near the Battersea Square. Harry drove her here since she was staying at his house for the weekend.

“I'll go home as well as Harry. We'll spend the time with our own family before heading to Sorrento for New Year together.” Y/N answered before taking a sip of her hot chocolate. It was an early day in December, and London weather was getting colder every day. So, she needed something to warm her body.

“Italy? How nice! But I prefer to go there in Summer, you know? Warm sun, warm air..” Abbie squealed.

“Harry was the one who had the idea. It was more than enough for me. I can't complain anything to him.” She shrugged, “How about you?”

Abbie just laughed, “My mum wanted to come here, so I guess I'll spend Christmas and New Year in here.”

The rest of the time they just walked about the time together when they were at school, playing back memories that memorable for them. The clock was ticking at past eleven when they decided to go. Besides, Y/N really didn't want to lave Harry for too long. Abbie offered her a ride since she would be passing Lots Road, so she would dropping Y/N off there.

When Y/N arrived at Harry's penthouse, Suzanne was in the kitchen. She bid a quick hello to her before heading to Harry's bedroom. She let out a small shriek when her eyes found Harry sprawled out in his bed just in his briefs, laid out like a starfish.

“What are you doing?” Y/N giggled, crawling to his side. Harry tilted his head towards her, “I was running while you were meeting Abbie, now I'm exhausted.”

“Why you don't take a shower?” She asked, her finger brushing off his baby hair on his forehead. She gasped when Harry flipped her body so she was on top him, hands gripping her bum.

“I was waiting for you. Maybe we can take a shower together?” He wiggled his eyebrow. Y/N snuggled to him, smothering his neck with some kisses. “I already taking the shower. Now, take your ass to the shower. And wash the sticky sweats off your body.”

“Didn't you realise you get the sticky sweat from the way you plopped down on me, darling?”

Harry let out a humoured laugh when his girlfriend whined after she had just realised. He shoved her body away gently, and walking to his bathroom. “I will be happy to waiting for you under the shower.”

And after that, he vanished into the bathroom. Y/N then sat up, looking at her both arms that now wet from Harry's sweat. In fact, she didn't want to complain because his sweat smells good. And yeah, she should take another shower because how sticky her body from his sweat.

When she walked into the bathroom, Harry's naked figure clearly visible. Although the hot steam covered the glass wall, she could see Harry's standing under the shower with his back facing her. Y/N closed the door slowly, not making any noise. She stripped down her clothes until she's naked, and join him in the shower. The way her sneaking arms hugged his torso made Harry didn't flinch at all. Like he's already expecting it.

Y/N peppering kisses on his neck, shoulder, all around his back with her fingers rubbing his stomach. She gave him kitten licks to his earlobe before sucked it, made Harry whimpered. His hands pumping his length slowly. Y/N brushed her wet hair from her face, so it wouldn't block her eyes. She bit her boyfriend's shoulder to expect leaving marks on there. She loved to claim what she had.

Her hand went down to his V-line, before grabbing his length and help him to pump it while her other hand slid up and down his nipple in teasing way.

That's it. That's the last strike. Harry couldn't let her.

Y/N squealed when Harry flipped them both, pushing her body against the wall and grab her legs so they wrapped around him. She quickly put her hands around his neck. Luckily, her back was against the glass and Harry holding her bum, keeping her legs around his waist. If not, she could slip on the slippery tile. Both of them panting quickly, she could feel her hard nipple pressed onto his toned chest. Meanwhile, his length resting it limb between her thighs.

“Thought you would come, darling.” He whispered, booping her nose with his. “What was that behaviour?”

“I just want to help my boyfriend.” She shrugged, fingers curling his back hair. Since the shower was no longer right above their head, Y/N could see Harry clearly. His soaked wet face made her fantasy went wild. She gulped as Harry pressed down his length to her centre, rubbing his tip up and down.

“Do you feel that? This is what you've done, baby.” He mumbled in her ear, “Hard and ready, only for you.”

“Only for me?” Y/N asked for recognition, her fingertips digging to his shoulder. She looked down to find Harry's length was ready. Hard, erect on its glory. Harry nodded, licking her earlobe. “Only for my baby.”

She brought his head to her, so she could crashing her lips on his. It didn't take long for their tongues to wrestle with each other. The only sound they heard was their lips ravishing each other, even the sound of the shower only sounded faint to their ears. Their body was hot, burning in flame. The hot steam made everything getting more intense.

He ran his finger over her centre, only found her sticky wetness. Harry smirked, his ego was getting high.

“You're so wet, bet it taste sweet too.” He mumbled in her lips.

Harry detached his lips from her, so he could suck her nipple while the other one being rubbed and pinched by his finger. His grip was strong enough to keep her only in one his arm. Y/N felt her centre aching, shaking... need someone to take care of it. Her moan was Harry favourite sound in the world, nothing else. She whimpered, arching her back when Harry blew air to her hard and stiffened nipples – making her grip on his hair tightened.

Without her knowing, Harry pushed his index finger inside her centre. Rolling out slowly, yet slammed hard into her. His index fingers curled up inside of her, with his middle finger joined afterwards.

“Oh, Harry. Oh!”

Harry groaned, moving his fingers in and out faster. He smashed his lips again to her, to muffled her loud moan. He could feel his length getting harder than before. His girl was trembling under his touch. He kissed her cheek before pulled his fingers out. But, her pleasure still going strong.

“Harry..”

“Not finish, baby.”

She cried when Harry teased her, rubbing her entrance with his tip. Her legs shook terribly. She wanted him so bad.

“Harry, please... please I can't– ”

“Please what, baby?” He hummed on her neck, leaving marks on his favourite spots.

Every whimper, every moans...

Harry left his marks on her neck, throat, shoulder, chest, breast...

“Beg for me, and I'll give you what you want.”

“I need you, please. I need you inside of me, right now, baby.”

“Uh-huh, you forget something.” He shook his head, smirking.

“I need you to fuck me, ravish me, do whatever your heart desire.” She whined.

“Oh, fuck!”

Y/N choked when Harry slid in his length in only one move. Sometimes it surprised her; the way her body quickly adjusted to his size inside of her, he was huge and thick, it was never enough for her to feel him. Harry paused for a moment before moving his precious length.

“Tell me if you want to stop.” He hissed, placing his forehead on her with hands gripping her bum.

“Move, H.”

Her words always being his command. It was what always Harry said to her.

He slowly rolled in and out, palms still gripping her bum. They both moaned wildly. Y/N clutched Harry's shoulder while he dropped his head to hers. She cried every time Harry was pulling out then slammed into her, pushed his length deeper as he could.

Y/N felt she was getting close, her full cunt trembled from the way Harry rolled his length. She squinted her eyes, breath panting wildly.

“I'm close, H. Oh my god.. Oh!”

“You wanna cum? Cum for me, baby. Cum on me, please.”

Harry still rocking wildly into her, meanwhile, the girl in front of him was shuddering. From the way Y/N arched her back, he knew she was about to come. In just a few seconds, he felt she came on him. He could feel her wetness smeared on his length.

“Harry...”

He groaned, hearing her soft yet exhausted voice whispering into his ear.  His brows furrowed, mouth parting. He shut his eyes closed, feeling himself getting close. Y/N cried out of the how fast he rocked her, the way he slammed back and forth made her wanted to pass out anytime. Before Harry got the chance, he slid out of her on time – seeing his thick cum squirted from his tip all over her and him. Slowly, he lowered Y/N legs, quickly support her body because he knew how weak her legs were.

“Thank you, baby.” He smiled, kissing her cheek. “That was amazing.”

“It was.. better than the one we had in the bathtub.” She sighed, “My back was sore due to clashing down the bathtub tile.”

“So, looks like bathtub sex is the last on the list?” Harry just laughing, “C'mon, let's clean our body.”

“I can't even stand properly, H.” Y/N pouted, hand still on his shoulder. Harry looked down her trembling legs, “All right, just hold onto me.”

. .

Please excuse some errors.