happy one-year anniversary !!! i can't fuckin believe it's been a year already, and I'm sorry for the stalling on all my ongoing series. school has been insane, and i am doing all i can to work on things when i have the chance! truth is, going to school for writing burns u out on it and suddenly you never wanna do it. but here i am! ready to take on the world, and hopefully do more blurbs so i'm able to keep up with you guys in the meantime. thank you guys for all of your support. for your love and enthusiasm in my ask box. it really means the world to me
in any case, if there is anyone to thank other than followers, it is the absolute menace that is @loveontuor she is the voice in my head telling me to do bad things, and is the reason this story is what it is. thank u cait, and i love u forever
****THIS BLURB TAKES PLACE IN THE WHO'S YOUR DADDY UNIVERSE! I ENCOURAGE READING PART ONE AND PART TWO BEFORE GIVING THIS A GO!
masterlist | talk to me! (some of y'all bout to be real mad at me.)
“We wouldn’t miss it for the world!” Olivia squealed with excitement, bouncing a little Lydia in her arms. Her first birthday was rapidly approaching, the little girl’s gummy smile growing larger at the sound of her godmother’s excitement. Thea had come over for lunch and brought the little tot with her since Dylan wouldn’t be back from work until the week of Lydia’s party.
It was almost as if Harry blinked and missed it all. One moment, the world went quiet and he was holding his baby girl in his arms for the very first time in a hospital room, and the next, it seemed she was crawling around his house under his watchful eye and flashing her big green eyes as if she were begging for Harry to mash up more bananas for her to snack on.
He had his fair share of crisis in that time too. Grappling with fatherhood was difficult enough when he was continually disconnected from the one little person he (italicize) wanted to be around. When Olivia had come to him nine months ago with a gift bag and teary-eyed and he pulled out a onesie that read “Daddy’s Favorite”—he was excited. Yet all at once, his stomach dropped. It was all good fun. Liv simply wanted to surprise him and tell him in a way he wasn’t expecting, but there was the very element of surprise that made him feel somewhat sick with a whirlwind of emotion.
It wasn’t true. And he wished he could tell Lydia that with her understanding that the favoritism had nothing to do with her. And perhaps he was over-explaining himself. Perhaps it was, in fact, his own guilt was beginning to suffocate him under the sea of uncertainty that was to come now that he had a family of his own that couldn’t be hidden behind the guise of a one-time thing. But one thing remained—it was all eating Harry alive.
“Harry?” Olivia raised her eyebrows in question.
“Hm?” He acknowledged, seemingly finally coming up for air after following his train of thought down the rabbit hole that never ended.
“Do you think you could get the time off of work?” Liv hummed, focusing her attention on the baby in her arms. The sight made his frigid heart grow warmer, and the moment of clarity allowed him to see past his own guilt and into his own future. Liv holding onto their baby, smiling at him and asking if he can switch the laundry over to the dryer. It was a moment of blind bliss, a smile tugging onto his lips before he’s reminded that there will never be a day of his life he wouldn’t live without guilt for what he and Thea did, but it was nice to live in a world where he did sometimes.
“Course, baby.” He smiled, standing from the sofa to grab Lydia’s head and pull it towards him for a soft kiss on the forehead, his thumb caressing her soft, plump little cheek. “Anything for the little dove.” He hummed in a little baby voice.
Olivia grinned at the interaction, oblivious to the side glance cast over from Thea on the other side of the room.
+
“We don’t have to go, sweetheart.” He was lying through his teeth. There was no fucking way he would miss Lydia’s first birthday, but Olivia had been in and out of hysterics all day. Crying seemingly without reason and snapping at Harry any chance allowed.
She was nine months pregnant. Of course, she didn’t feel good, and Harry refused to hold it against her if she didn’t feel up to a children’s birthday party. It was bad enough being nine months pregnant, let alone being nine months pregnant in the middle of the summer.
“No!” She cried. “We can’t miss Lydia’s first birthday. We have to be there. We’re her godparents.” She whined, and Harry’s heart aches for all that she was going through for his sake. Even though they had both agreed to want a family, Harry had grown accustomed to blaming himself for everything his wife went through, especially since he knew he would spend the rest of his life making up for a one-time mistake. Harry rubbed her back to soothe her tears, glancing down at his wedding ring before closing his eyes and whispering into her ear about how much he loved her and how sorry he was that she felt so poorly.
It was with hiccups and a puffy face that she decided she needed to clean herself up. She wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” Harry cooed, continuing his comfort by rubbing her though soothingly. “It’s okay to feel overwhelmed, it’s okay to cry.” he laughed lightly at the absurdity of her apology. “You’re carrying an entire human inside of you right now. Cry when you need to, baby.”
Olivia didn’t speak. She hiccupped, nodded, and stood to her feet to continue trying to get ready. Harry watched in silence as she made her way around their bedroom, her hands migrating to her bump without thinking twice about it.
+
Harry was well prepared to spend the entire day on his toes. He and Thea had talked about it around her second trimester that Harry was much too involved, that it often crossed boundaries that even treaded on Dylan’s nerves. From that day in her pregnancy, forward—Harry was conscious of every move he made in front of people that were not his wife, who thought the interactions were precious or Thea. The only person in the world, other than himself and his mother and sister who knew the truth.
Olivia always saw the good in him. Rationalized her discomfort by telling herself that Dylan’s absence because of work made Harry want to step up for their friend, and while part of her admired his dedication to their goddaughter, she had moments that left her feeling as if she was missing something. What made their marriage successful was Harry not feeling like he had to be on guard when he was with her, and that’s why he put a ring on her finger. But this? This was too much for her. At times, it was too much for him too. Olivia loved Lydia just as much as he did, and every piece of him knew that it was different—he didn’t care. Olivia loved Lydia just as much as he did, and he refused to downplay that.
Harry cleared his throat, making his way up to the home with Olivia blank-faced beside him. She had seen Thea in the late stages with Lydia. Glowing and smiling with all the confidence she could muster. She remembered the long flowing dresses and her skin being the clearest it had ever been—it all added up to making Olivia, somehow, feel worse about herself than she had before.
She had never felt so large in her life, never felt so conscious of the space she occupied before. But now? All she could do was wonder what Harry saw when he looked at her.
Am I still the woman you love?
Am I still the woman you want?
How could you love me when everything you knew about me has changed?
Realistically, she was being irrational. Her hormonal brain had created fears by duplicating copies of Harry in her head she knew didn’t exist. She was to the point where her worst fear would be bursting into tears, only instead of Harry consoling her, and holding her hand and kissing away her tears--he would be there only to verify that each of her worries had indeed been factual.
She’s been fighting with herself all day. The constant push and pull of knowing Harry better than that, but constantly anticipating the worst of him. He had never given her any reason to doubt him. She never yearned for him because she never had to. He always made himself available to her, and the side of her brain that wasn’t pregnant knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt.
Olivia knocked lightly on the door, quickly revealing a wide-eyed Dylan in a Hawaiian button-up t-shirt and Lydia sitting on his hip, drool coating her fingers.
“Hey!” Dylan cheered, leaving the door open and allowing the couple to walk inside. “Welcome in, guys. Thanks for coming.” His first instinct is to pull Olivia in for a kiss on the cheek and a hug, to which she pulled together a pseudo-grin that allowed her to fool herself into thinking it possible to get through this party alive. Less than ten minutes into it—she was already reevaluating her ability.
A conversation sparked between the two men, leading to Olivia’s disinterest, and looking towards the dining room where she could hear the distinct chuckle that could only belong to Thea. Harry raised his eyebrows in question, making sure Olivia was okay to go off on her own. She nodded slightly, rubbing her hand over her stomach to bring herself a bit more comfort.
She felt like she was going to crawl out of her skin, her discomfort only seemed to magnify once she saw a dining room filled with mothers in bathing suits and short dresses to make do with the overbearing humidity. What would she do with herself when she couldn’t hide behind her maternity clothes anymore? When she was faced with her body in a room full of women who had seemingly magically snapped into place after giving birth to their children?
“Livvy!” Thea waved her over, a smile spreading across her face at the sight of her best friend. Since announcing her pregnancy, Thea had been distant. Reserved at times and uncharacteristically quiet. And it didn’t quite bother Liv because, for all she knew, she was going through something and didn’t want to talk about it to her. Perhaps the attention in the room had shifted so quickly after she had Lydia—that she wasn’t sure how to go on without being the newest mother in the room. Nevertheless, things were different from the moment she had broken the news.
Thea never intended for there to be a difference in her behavior, but there were rare occasions she let her mind wander to what could come now that Harry would have his own legitimate child. What would Lydia be to him then? A distant memory? A bad outcome to a more than satisfactory evening spent together? God forbid she broach how Harry would even feel towards her.
Something unspeakable had shifted in the air after watching Harry tend to Lydia. Something she never felt before, and something she wasn’t sure she would be able to feel again. Chalk it to a shift in the tides—but there was something there that hadn’t been there before they had sex, and no matter how much she wished it away, it clung to her like an unpleasant reminder of exactly where she stood in Harry’s life—and where their baby would always remain in tow.
It wasn’t love, she didn’t think. But it wasn’t indifference either. And the more it lingered, the further she stayed away from Olivia, which broke her heart even more.
Olivia waddled over, smiling awkwardly as the other mothers in the room roamed her round stomach as if to gauge how far along she was, but there was a thick haze of uncertainty cast over the group of unknown onlookers who seemed to silently judge her the longer she stayed put.
Thea cleared her throat, putting an end to the harsh glares. “I’m really glad you could make it!” She gushed, rushing over to tend to her friend and pulling out a chair. “How are you feeling?” She questioned, ignoring the other women in the room who watched quietly. Liv wanted to be honest. Tell her she was in misery and that every moment she was awake she felt like a walking contradiction who would smile over one thing, only to cry over the same thing after an additional thirty seconds, but bit her tongue for the sake of the others in the room, and a foreign reluctance to share the absolute fucking nightmare that was her third trimester of pregnancy. Instead, Olivia did what she was best at—flashing a smile and passing her discomfort off with a charming reply before passing on the subject entirely. “How’s Harry?”
It was dreaded, but Thea couldn’t control the question as it fell from her lips. She wasn’t sure what she was searching for. A hint of reluctance, or perhaps unadulterated joy. Or perhaps probing for a greater purpose. If there was any underlying sliver of doubt within her that Harry could be hiding something.
The question threw Liv off slightly, but she supposed it made sense in the grander scheme. Harry was about to become a father, and they both knew he was over the moon.
“He’s good.” Liv smiled, resting her head on her hand. Talking to Thea made her feel a bit more grounded. Like perhaps everything that she was feeling earlier was all in her head. She knew hormones had a tight hold on her—but maybe she would be okay if she just focused on the positive. Or perhaps it was the way the conversation veered into Harry, the only thing in the world she felt she could be sure about, other than the baby inside of her.
“Hey, Honey?” Dylan shouted from the doorway, grabbing Thea’s attention. Harry’s head was poked over his shoulder, his throat bobbed at the sight of the two women. “Guests are pulling up. I’ll grab Dia if you want to greet?” She agreed without another word, getting up from the table, sure to hold her hand out to her very pregnant friend beside her.
“Let’s get this show on the road.” She sighed.
+
It was all becoming a bit much.
It had become some sort of sick game, and Harry couldn’t exactly pinpoint when he had signed on to play.
It was silly. A comment in passing in the kitchen when he was grabbing a water and there was nobody in sight. Thea was bent over, face stuck in the bottom of the refrigerator and her ass in the air in the bikini she had dawned in order to show off the body she had rightfully worked hard to regain after having a child. His child.
“Nice ass.” He snickered, and he meant it as a joke. Not like he was looking too hard (he most certainly was) And all he meant to do was bring attention to the fact that amount of fabric covering her frame didn’t leave much to his imagination. Only because there wasn’t much to imagine—he had seen it all before. A simple lift of the fabric a bit to the right, everything she had was ready for display.
Thea’s back shot upwards at the sound of his voice, her eyebrows furrowed as she looked around the kitchen before punching him in the shoulder.
“Fuck you.” She joshed lightly, opening up the bag of carrot sticks in her hand and refilling the tray for the hungry children awaiting snacks outside.
Harry didn’t say anything, just snorted before lifting his eyebrows. He didn’t even have to verbalize a joke for the air between them to shift all too dangerously, causing Harry to clear his throat. “Uh—”
“Yeah—” Thea started, and before they both let an awkward silence swallow them whole, Harry spoke up once again.
“Be careful. Wouldn’t want to give free shows to any horny dad’s coming and going through the house.” Thea’s brow raised inquisitively.
“Oh? Like you?”
And so it began.
Like cat and mouse, only Harry was doing his best not to entertain it. He only satisfied himself with a peak when Thea bent over to pick Lydia up from the kiddy pool, and watched as Dylan began passing out popsicles to the older kids at the party, and offered his wife one, to which, she obliged and wrapped her lips around the iced treat while making direct eye contact with Harry.
Sweat pooled down his back as he whipped his head around back to Olivia, who had sat silently pushing food around a plate with her face smooshed into her cheek. Harry swallowed thickly, pushing any thoughts of Thea to the side for the sake of his wife, who was sitting beside him visibly upset and clearly detached from the party.
“Baby?” He questioned, his hand falling on to her exposed shoulder. “What’s going on?”
Olivia just shook her head, biting her lip. Her emotions had gotten ahold on her, and suddenly, she felt the overwhelming need to be alone with her thoughts. “I need to go.”
+
Harry had offered to take her home, but she was insistent on him staying, leaving him alone with Thea to clean things up as she took the ride that Dylan had so kindly offered, knowing that he wouldn’t probe her further on why she was so insistent on being alone.
Harry cleared his throat, watching as Thea spoon fed Lydia, hunched over her highchair. It was endearing, watching the two of them interact. It felt like he hadn’t gotten the chance to see them this way, and it was almost like a glimpse into what was to come with Olivia. Watching endearingly as she spoon fed their little one that would be here any day now.
Something about this felt different. In a way that he had not felt before, in a way he had not felt for Thea before. Their daughter, the happy accident that had come from their hiccup in Jamaica was a year old. Harry could feel tears brimming in his eyes just before Thea turned around and caught his eye.
“Are you crying?” She asked softly. “Harry…” She consoled. He wiped the tears quickly, urging her to continue.
He wasn’t sure what to say—if there was anything to say at all. The love he felt in his heart for the two women before him filled his heart with joy. But it was different. It wasn’t the kind of love he thought it would be. Not the kind he felt for Olivia that made his heart skip beats and a thousand angels begin to sing. But a sense of safety, admiration that she gifted him with something so fragile. Parenthood. He never knew he could feel this way before, but the foreign feeling came with a passion that he had not been subject to before either.
It wasn’t long before Thea passed the little one off to Harry, and she quickly fell asleep in his arms. He smiled, her little eyes fluttering shut and her chubby cheeks leaving her mouth ajar with her curly brown hair swept into two pigtails. He hadn’t seen someone or something so precious before in his life.
He was gentle. Laying her down in her crib, careful not to jolt her awake too soon before walking backwards out of the room, unable to take his eyes off her.
“She’s fucking incredible, isn’t she?” Thea whispered, causing Harry to jump out of his skin, whipping around to see Thea’s head resting in the doorway. “The sweetest face I’ve ever seen. The softest little giggle in the world.” She gushes. “I’m in love with her.” Thea sniffled.
“And she’s a year old.” Harry tried to laugh it off---not to get too heavily emotional when it came to it, because the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to be there. Thea didn’t say a word. She shifted her weight on to her left side, her head falling on Harry’s shoulder.
“I’m scared.” He whispered, looking down at the little girl.
“Of?” Thea gently prodded.
“Her never knowing how much I love her.”
There’s a sniffle, and then there’s silence. Four eyes trained on the little girl in front of them, who twitches in her sleep and softly snores every now and again. Nothing much is exchanged, but Harry feels a warm palm on his cheek and his attention is brought to the woman in front of him.
He hadn’t known her in this way before—the gentle version of her. The version that took her time, and ran her eyes over every detail of his face before drawing forward. In the same way she never knew him this way—the calm version. The one that didn’t gasp for breath between each stolen kiss, and pant like an animal in heat because he couldn’t get to her fast enough.
There was something there, never to be spoken. A light—Harry would call it. Nothing close to a spark. But a light, between two people who shared something so beautiful, it was impossible not to have a connection in some way shape or form. Even if it was just physical. All of the teasing, all of the jokes that had been passed between the two had come to a head as they both pulled away from a kiss so gentle, neither could tell their mouths were touching until they each pulled away.
Harry swallowed a lump in his throat, speaking gently. “We swore we would never go there.”
Thea’s eyes flickered from his eyes, back down to his mouth. “Who’s watching right now?”
And she was right—nobody.
A rush of passion ignited between the two, and the closest place Harry could find to release the tension was the master bathroom across the hall, and conveniently the furthest place from the front door. “We shouldn’t.” He mumbled, too self involved to care amidst the pleasure making it’s way to his brain.
“We should stop.” Thea echoed, as she began her pursuit of his buttoned shirt, kissing down his neck in the same way she had before, finding the key places she noted that made him groan.
The worst part was between the grunts and moans of the woman positioned underneath him, he couldn't help but wonder what he was doing, or why he had given in. Why does it feel so good?
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