Harry Styles Bsm/Ddm Imagines

Harry's age: 34

Your age: 14

You had known for a while now that things were strained between your mom and dad. They didn't scream at each other like most couples in disagreements would. No. That was too civil for them.

Instead, they lied to each other about everything.

Where they were going? A lie. What they were doing? A lie. Who they were talking to? A lie. When they told each other they loved them-Also a lie. The lies never stopped.

Blatantly cheating on each other was also a common thing they did. They both never bothered to try to hide the fact that they were unfaithful and couldn't keep it in their pants. They were both so selfish.

One time you had caught your mom intimately and passionately kissing and then groping a ' work friend' when you came home from school that day. Later that evening, when your mom had long gone back to 'work' because her job had called her in, your dad had come home with some chick he had found on the street, thinking you were at some afterschool club.

You revolted at the memories of their dirty, vulgar, sex talk and lewd moaning. When your mom had gotten back from 'work' (Mind you it was three a.m) she had asked why their room was destroyed, particularly her dresser and her side of the room where her belongings were.

His side seemed to be untouched.

Your dad's response had been: "Sorry, honey, I had a stressful day at work and I needed to vent out my anger."

You never brought up or mentioned their 'small peccadilloes.'

Today you weren't in the mood for their b.s.You almost wanted to throw your phone at the door and then jump out the window when they both knocked on your door for the seventh time that day. For some reason or another, you kept avoiding them.

"Sweetheart, we know you're in there. Why aren't you answering us?"

Then, you heard your father's booming voice say, "Y/n, baby, open up. We have something important to discuss with you."

Before you got up to open the door, you already knew what they wanted to 'discuss.'

Quietly, they walked inside, your dad shutting the door behind him.

The tension between the two of them was prominent as they pondered silently who should first break the news.

Your dad was the first to speak.

"Darling," he started, gradually looking into your eyes," your mother and I have come to a difficult decision..."

"You both are getting a divorce," you responded before he could complete his sentence.

Stunned, they nodded their heads.

"Great!" You faked enthusiasm. "You could've told me that through the door."

"There's something else we need to talk about, " your mother piped in. "You're going have to choose."

"What?" You stared at her, eyes rock hard.

"Honey, you're gonna have to choose because we're both planning to take full custodial guardianship of you, so to make it fair, we decided to let you choose."

"And why can't you both have joint custody," you snapped at her.

"Y/n, you're way too young to understand. Those reasons are between me and your father. I'm only looking out for your best interests-"

"My best interests?" You cut in with sarcastic amusement. "Wouldn't you think I would know what my best interests are?"

"No. You are too young. You don't know your father the way I do. He's unfit to be your primary custodial parent. "

Your dad scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Please Meredith, if I were an unfit parent, I wouldn't hesitate to allow you full custody of my child."

"You are an unfit parent you cheating bast-" she countered but stopped herself.

"Don't act so innocent, you conniving, twisted, and lying whore. We all know you've slept with your whole department- including the females," he barked.

"You can't even hold your tongue in front of our child, Harold! There's no way I'm letting you get sole custody without a fight-even if she chooses you!"

You internally cringed. Your dad hated being called Harold. It wasn't his real name so he didn't understand why people would use it.

"So sweetie..." You stared at your mom. "Choose."

You smiled and then let out a scoff. "This isn't fair."

"I know, baby," your dad said as he sat down next to you.

"Then why make it unfair, if you both know-"

"Y/n, look! How many times do I have to tell you ?" Your mother crossed her arms and shook her head.

"Tell me what? You didn't explain why you both wanted full custody instead of jointed! All you did was point out the fact that you're both too selfish to share!"

"No matter how much you argue with us, it's not going to change that," your father stated sternly.

You glanced at your dad and then your mom.

"Fine."

You stood up very slowly.

"I choose..."

You walked to the middle of the room, your parents giving you impatient looks.

"-neither of you."

Then you left your room, shutting the door behind you despite your parents' demands for you to come back.

Nonchalantly hopping down the stairs and into the foyer, you yanked your jacket off the coat racket by the door.

"And just where do you think you're going, young lady?"

"Out."

"Out where?" Your father replied with his arms crossed at the top of the stairs."

"Out of the house of course," you said smartly.

"Y/n, running away is not going to solve this!" Your mother cut in before your dad could open his mouth. She shoved past your father. When she got to the bottom step, you opened the door.

"As your mother, I suggest you close that door right back up!"

You did the opposite.

"Y/n!"

Fingernails dug into your forearm and you were twisted around.

"Ugh, Harold is such a bad influence on you," she muttered.

"What about you? I mean-" you let out an abrupt laugh-"the way you were screaming Darrell's, John's, and Casey's name the other day just teaches me that I'm not supposed to keep my legs close-"

She slapped you. You barely even flinched. You'd already saw it coming.

"Don't you try to make me the bad guy when your father has-"

"Oh, please! Don't play that 'who's the more righteous parent' game with me. Oh, look at me! I've only slept with 56 different people this week unlike your father who has-trust me -slept with four times as many as I did, so I think I should be awarded a gold star for my rather small amount of misdeeds," you exclaimed in a mocking tone.

When your mom or dad didn't respond, you marched out the door, slamming it behind you.

Notes