#I’ve had the realization my mom ruins every Christmas :)))

[otamotone-dnp]

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[cailinsblog]

Home for the Holidays |

nico hischier

Nico hischier x reader

Snow was softly falling outside Nico’s window, covering the world in a shimmering blanket of white. Christmas break was here, but despite the festivity, Nico couldn’t help feeling a bit homesick. He missed the snowy Alps, the warmth of his family’s home, and the comforting smell of his mom’s cooking. It was hard not being in Switzerland for the holidays.

But there was one silver lining this season—his next-door neighbor, Y/N. She had become his close friend since he moved into the building. They shared inside jokes, late-night chats, and cups of coffee on cold mornings. He’d developed a soft spot for her, though he tried his best to hide it, not wanting to risk ruining their friendship.

One chilly December morning, Y/N noticed Nico looking especially down. She had picked up on his longing for home, even if he hadn’t explicitly said it. So, determined to bring a bit of comfort his way, she decided to bake him something special. Though Y/N wasn’t Swiss, she loved learning about different cultures, and after some research, she settled on making Lussekatter—Swedish saffron buns. With their golden color and delicate taste, she hoped they might cheer him up.

Later that afternoon, she knocked on his door, a small tray of freshly baked buns in hand. Nico opened the door, surprised to see her standing there with a shy smile and the sweet-smelling treats.

“Hey,” she said softly. “I know you’re missing home, so I made you these. They’re not exactly Swiss, but I thought they might help a little.”

Nico’s eyes softened, touched by her thoughtfulness. He took a bun, tasting the warm, fluffy pastry, savoring the delicate hint of saffron. “Thank you, Y/N. This… means a lot to me,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. He looked at her, feeling his heart swell, but he held back, unsure if she felt the same way.

Y/N, on the other hand, had butterflies in her stomach just being around him. She’d liked Nico for a while now but convinced herself he only saw her as a friend. Seeing him smile, though, made her heart flutter with hope.

The next day, Nico knocked on her door with a surprise of his own. “Hey, so I was thinking—how about I repay you for those amazing buns?” he said, holding out two tickets to a Devils game. “I’d love for you to come.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, Nico, you don’t have to…”

“I insist,” he replied, grinning. “Besides, it wouldn’t be the same without my favorite fan there.”

Blushing, she accepted, and Nico handed her a Devils jersey with his number and name on the back. She slipped it on, and his eyes lit up, seeing her in his colors. “It suits you,” he said softly, and she felt a thrill at the way his gaze lingered on her.

At the game that night, Y/N cheered Nico on, her heart pounding every time he took the ice. It was exhilarating, watching him play with such skill and focus. Late in the third period, the score was tied. Nico skated towards the net, effortlessly maneuvering past the defense and flicked his wrist, sending the puck soaring into the top corner. Goal!

He skated to the boards, looking up to where she was seated, and pointed at her, a bright, triumphant grin lighting up his face. Her breath caught as their eyes met, and her cheeks flushed. She couldn’t believe he’d just done that in front of the entire stadium.

After the game, Nico found her waiting outside the locker room, still buzzing with excitement. “You were amazing, Nico!” she said, pulling him into a hug, her face bright with pride.

He held her close, savoring the warmth of her embrace. “Thanks to you,” he murmured, pulling back slightly to look at her.

Their gazes locked, and for a moment, the world fell away. Nico’s voice was soft as he finally spoke up, gathering the courage he’d been holding back. “Y/N, I… I’ve liked you for a long time. I just didn’t know if you felt the same.”

Y/N’s face lit up, her heart racing as she realized she wasn’t the only one. “I’ve liked you too, Nico,” she admitted, a shy smile spreading across her face. “I just thought you saw me as a friend.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I could never just be friends with you.” Then, as if the universe were giving them permission, he leaned in and kissed her, his lips warm and soft against hers.

They broke apart, grinning at each other, feeling like they were on top of the world. This Christmas break, Nico might have been far from home, but he realized he was exactly where he wanted to be—right there with Y/N.

Reblog and comment💕

[bilboyagathechickenfootedhobbit]

Having a bit of a moment right now. My dad and I rarely talk. He remarried after cheating on my mom and the woman he married is just….godawful bigoted and racist and my dad, in true male fashion, basically just takes on the personality of whomever he’s married to. So when he was with my mom, he was compassionate and accepting and kind. Now? Not so much. On top of picking up racism and bigotry and just general stupidity, he and my brother got into it a while back and put me in the middle to the point I had to scream at my father on Mothers Day, telling him that I am NOT his mother NOR my brothers mother and just because Mom is dead doesn’t mean I have to fucking parent my father and brother, just because I’m the only remaining female in the family, that parenting my child is enough for me and could they please work their shit out like the adults they purport to be. So that went SUPER well and completely fucking ruined my Mother’s Day (and has now become a running joke each Mother’s Day: has Brother or Dad called to fuck up my day yet??)

But whatever. My brother no longer speaks to him but I maintained a “call on birthdays and holidays” relationship with him, and every now and then I would text him pictures of his grandson to show off his progress or achievements and humble brag about my parenting, since judging my parenting is one of his favorite past times.

But now? I don’t know. I texted him pictures of my son’s cheer competition yesterday; he did really well, has been practicing hard, and had a ton of fun. So I wanted to share it with my dad because he’s my only living parent and sometimes I foolishly trick myself into thinking he cares. So I send him the pics, some from the competition, some of him posing with his medals like Michael Phelps, and then I throw in some brags about his academic achievements because I know I probably won’t text him again until Christmas.

Totally normal partially estranged parental conversation, right? Well, tonight I just dropped my kid off at cheer practice (this shit literally never ends but he loves it so whatever) and I get back in the car and see a missed text that he mistakenly sent to me.

WHAT THE FUCK OLD MAN??? What the actual FUCK??? First off, who are you forwarding pictures of my grandson to????? Anyone who I want to see pictures of him, I send them directly to them. They aren’t for forwarding and you as his grandfather should realize that. Secondly, WHAT. THE. FUCK???? I know you, old man. You ain’t “reclaiming” that slur, oh hell no. You say it with the same intention as the men who beat Matthew Sheppard to death in a cold field in the middle of nowhere. You say that to belittle the things your grandson takes joy in because you can’t stand the fact that a little boy can find joy in sparkles and pompoms and cheerleading without being gay. And even if he DOES turn out to be gay, how dare you call him queer? I’m sorry, I don’t reclaim that slur, I’ve known too many people that were hurt while that was yelled at them and I know coming from my dad it was not meant as a “YASSS KWEEN!” Kind of queer. It wasn’t a puffed up chest, proudly proclaiming “here’s my queer grandkid, sure do love him!”

Also, he’s SIX. Six!!! Maybe he’ll be gay, maybe he’ll be straight, who fucking knows or cares right now?? He! Is! SIX!! Referencing his sexuality right now is so stupid and fucking dumb and unnecessary.

I’m so mad right now. I want to cry I’m so mad. My son loves what he loves and he loves pastel unicorns by the literal DOZENS, and rainbows, and cheerleading, and sparkly shiny things, and scootering, and wrestling, and poop jokes, and playing football, and tackling his dad, and all sorts of things. He likes “boy things” and can throw a better spiral than most adults, and he likes “girl things” too, and kicks ass at cheerleading. It makes me so mad to think of my crotchety old dad sitting in his old man recliner in Oklahoma laughing at what he perceives to be his “gay” grandson. Fucking queer. Shut the fuck up, old man, and get the fuck out of here with your preconceived notions of masculinity.

[la-principessa-nuova]

Even though there is no way they could possibly know anything, every time I talk to my parents now it feels like they’re trying to get me to snap and come out as trans. I go over there and I’m talking to my mom and she’s trying to figure out what to get everyone for Christmas, and she starts asking about what kind of pants I like.

It has long since been established (before my egg cracked) that I wished there were jeggings for men, because mens stretchy jeans are way too thick and not stretchy for my day-to-day usage, but I grew up believing jeans are the only thing men are allowed to wear. So I made an offhand comment because I felt like it would be weird not to, and my mom got confused and was just thinking of leggings, not jeggings, so she makes an offhand comment about it that my dad overheard, and looks like the world is ending when he thinks for a second I just said I wanted to wear leggings (which I mean, I guess is true, but that’s not at all what the conversation was).

Then after I “cleared that up”, my mom starts telling this story about how she accidentally misgendered someone over the phone (I don’t want to go into detail, but honestly it was a confusing situation involving multiple people with the same name, so I don’t entirely blame her for that one), and her point was how embarrassing it was and how bad she felt for it, but my dad’s takeaway was that there are all these weirdos now.

So then my dad shares a story about how he saw a woman with a beard in the store, with tons of intentional misgendering and inflammatory comments thrown in, and I had to speak up, which I don’t think should give anything away because I was always an ally and have disagreed with him politically as long as I can remember. But I definitely was a lot more confident about it than before and came from more of a place of “No, you’re wrong and you need to stand down,” than the usual, “Um, actually, if you wouldn’t mind, could you maybe, like, be a little less of a bigot?”. I think I handled it well, although part of me wishes I’d turned it around on him and been like, “What, the special snowflake couldn’t handle seeing a woman with a beard? Did it hurt your feelings?”

But I do kind of worry that I’ve given too much away by using facts to back up my counter arguments that I have learned since realizing I was trans. But on the other hand, part of me doesn’t mind if by the time I came out they were like, “Oh, so it is true,” rather than, “WHAT!?!”

Later I approached my dad and flat out told him he needs to be careful with the radicalizing content he watches on YouTube and reminded him that a few years ago, he didn’t care about this stuff and stumbled over his words trying to use the right words when talking about trans people. Now suddenly he gets unreasonably angry about it, and it’s not even his own opinions, just something he was told on YouTube.

He denied it, but I think I might have heard a hint of fear as he said that, that maybe a part of him believed me. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking on my part, or maybe it was fear that I’m trans. Either way, I either need to deradicalize him or ruin our relationship trying.

[n1ccult]

Welcome to My BPD blog

Hi, my name is Nicole. I’m nineteen and I’ve been diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder for nine months, but I’ve exhibited symptoms of BPD since I was eleven or twelve. I’m starting this blog to help myself heal from BPD.

I’ve always had a strained relationship with my parents. My father wasn’t the father people saw on TV shows. My mom wasn’t perfect either, drowning her sorrows in a bottle of tequila or two 20-ounce cans of Coors Light. They always forgot I was there. Being an only child I was so alone and I started exhibiting attention-seeking behavior such as pathological lying and self-harm. The self-harm was originally for attention from those around me, but then it turned into a way to release my pain, then it turned into a way for me to feel something. I would abuse substances at very young ages and was sexually active very young. At fifteen I had even attempted to take my own life. Just to preface, I’m not judging anyone who is recovering and struggling. These are just self-destructive behaviors I took part in which made it so much worse for me.

As I got older fifteen and sixteen I would have sex with men who were often older than me to feel loved. They were pedophiles who just wanted to get laid. Even though these men just saw me as a piece of ass, I would cling to them and when they would block me I would feel so devastated I would have suicidal thoughts. Was I not good enough for these men? No, I was too good for them. I was just in such a bad place not receiving love from my family, I would try to fill the void with sex, drugs, and a new friend group every other month. I only had one friend who stuck by my side in high school until one day she blocked me on everything, because “I was too much.” I saw her as Satan after she did that. I felt like she had ruined my life. Let’s just call her Kathy. However, after that happened I was alone. Had no friendships and I realized, maybe I was the problem. On top of that the guy I was seeing called me a whore and a mistake and once again I heard the phrase “you’re too much.” It clicked and I knew I couldn’t live like that anymore. Being late in 2020 in the middle of my senior year of high school which was all online, with no job, I knew I had to pull up my big girl pants and start recovery. That recovery started with a Bipolar II diagnosis, which many people who are Borderline get. However, that was not the truth. I lived with that diagnosis for a year and a half, but it never resonated with me.

I moved from California to Montana for college which was a huge part of my recovery. Within a week I had already had my “favorite person” picked out. His name was Sam and I spent every single day of orientation week with him. End of the week we ended up hooking up, and afterward, I flipped. I would get paranoid he was going to ghost me. I would Snapchat at him saying he didn’t care about me and one day I threw his sweatshirt out the window at him from the fourth floor of my dorm. I blocked him and cried every single night. There it was, not the Bipolar disorder, but the BPD. That’s when I seriously knew I wasn’t Bipolar, but something was wrong. However, I still continued that toxic behavior. For the rest of the first semester of college, it was just a pattern of Sams. Then I went home for Christmas and there were no more Sams. I couldn’t bring myself to text any of the old hookups I had in California because I was embarrassed. I was able to go back to the job I had before I left for college and I spent my nights journaling and watching youtube videos about BPD. I reflected on my past behaviors from the past semester and I just felt embarrassed. I didn’t want to be like that anymore.

In February 2022, I deleted my own social media so things to be quiet. I figure my shit out. Being in the second semester of my first year of college I was still adjusting to the move and trying to figure out what was wrong. I had therapy once a week. I talked about my past traumas as a child, I dissected all my behaviors and started plans to help me cope with my destructive behaviors.

A year later, I’m still on my BPD healing journey. There are so many more details I left out of this, which I want to cover more as I continue this blog. I’m doing this as a way to help me heal and hopefully, it can inspire others while I go on this journey. If I even help one person from this post or blog I will feel like I have done something to help. 

[hollandsangel]

Could you do one for Tom x reader based on The Joker and the Queen by Taylor and Ed?? 🥺🥺

yes yes yes!! i loved how the music vid was a continuation of everything has changed :,)

when i fold | tom holland

not my gif!

romance was completely ruined for you at the age of seven.

that was when you met tom holland.

you’d never been in love before, which was understandable considering how young you were, but looking back at it in your older years you could recognize the tightness in your chest as none other than the overwhelming feeling of love. you and tom didn’t really date until freshman year of high school, but that didn’t stop you from loving him all the years leading up to that.

he was sweet, and kind and told you you looked pretty at least once every day. it didn’t last though, nothing in high school ever lasts forever, and as you transitioned from your hometown to a bigger city for post-secondary, you came to terms with that. it had definitely been a realization that took a lot of time, and one that didn’t come easy. there were moments when you’d find yourself daydreaming a little too much; about his kind smile and easy laugh or the way he walked with you to your classes, even if they weren’t down the same hall.

the last time you saw him was the night after your graduation. someone had thrown a big party and it felt only right to attend, it being your last night in this town and all. but then the night was over and he kissed you goodbye like he had a million times, promising this wasn’t it for the two of you, and you believed him.

it was naive, but you were seventeen and in love.

but now you’re standing in line at the grocery store, trying to text your mom that you did in fact grab her two cartons of eggs and answer an email from your professor about an assignment due before christmas break’s end.

with a huff you slip your phone into your coat pocket and unload the basket of groceries onto the conveyor belt, smiling at the cashier kindly, “hi, how are you?”

and standing over by the cooler searching for a bottle of sparkling water, he hears your voice. he didn’t know you were coming home and for some reason it stung that you didn’t reach out. it shouldn’t have though, because he hadn’t either.

tom would have been a little embarrassed to admit it, but he stared at you for at least twenty seconds, just looking at you, at the subtle changes in your features as you’d grown up a little more without him. he admired the tone of your voice and how it still hypnotised him, and your smile. that really did him in.

so when you grab the bag and start toward the exit, he knows he has to say something, he’d made a promise to you all those years ago, and this was his chance to finally, finally keep it.

“y/n?” he calls, stopping you by the florals.

at first you think you’re insane for recognizing the voice, for finding it so familiar. as you turn around though, you feel a little less crazy.

“tom?” you hold the brown paper bag close to your chest, almost like a safety blanket, “i uh, i didn’t know you were coming home.” you’d honestly figured he’d have too much else going on, considering how busy he’d gotten just after you graduated.

he smiles and steps a little bit closer, “my mum would have had my neck if i didn’t, so here i am.” he stuffs his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels as you take him in, “i didn’t know you were either, i mean, i guess i assumed but…didn’t think i’d lucky enough to speak with you.” his hair is longer and his features are sharper, he really looks grown up.

he’s always made you smile, and that hasn’t changed.

“how’ve you been? how’s school?” his question has you reeling back into trying to get over him in your first semester of university.

“oh good, you know, only one semester left and i’ve got like, a career to think about.” you nod.

“that’s great, you know, even though we kind of fell out of touch, i’m really proud of you, y/n/n.” the simplicity of him calling you by your nickname makes you blush.

“thank you, thank you, i could say the same about you, you’re really taking the world by storm.” your smile widens when he flushes and stares at his shoes.

the soft chuckle that passes his lips floods your heart with admiration and old emotions. “that means a lot, thank you.” and then you just look at each other for a few seconds, waiting for the other to say something. “um, i feel like i caught you at a bad time, would you maybe want to grab coffee one day before you leave? or even a drink? just to catch up?” he finally asks.

with a growing smile, you nod, “yeah, that sounds awesome, um, maybe boxing day?” you offer.

he smiles and nods, and that was just the beginning of him keeping a lifetime’s worth of promises.

tags! @randomlimelightxxx @baby-bearie @averysbestyears @would-you-tell-me-who-you-are @my-fangirling-outlet @hiya-its-amber @theduckgoesquack @coffearabica @hllandvibbes @21burritoseavey @starksview @kayasholland @bxmaaa @ddejavvu

[filthforfriends]

I created my tumblr as a platform to dump my writing and fan edits, but also as a place where I didn’t have to filter myself. My mental health is so fragile that when something happens to me everyone wants to go straight to fixing it and skip the “wow that sucks” stage. However I’ve learned that feeling my anger is important because for so long my mother filled up all that space emotionally. Here I I can rant and rage and not worry about concealing anything. People whose names I don’t know not only validated my experiences, but often share them or at least understand them in a way that comes with tremendous empathy. But for the first time I’ve paused and I’ve concealed and I’ve questioned whether or not I should post this.

My life is no longer garden variety sucky things took a really disturbing turn just after Christmas. But there are still a variety of reasons I want to post this, mainly I don’t know how to feel or react. Maybe someone else has endured something this violating and humiliating but shoved it way down and felt alone. God knows I share those actions.

If you click beyond this point you’re agreeing that you’re at least in your 20s, mentally stable, and understand that what follows is megafucked

My mom is a published author. I was discouraged from reading her work because it was as very “adult” but at age 15 I snuck a peak on a story that I realized it was not so loosely based on my brother. I know she wrote about her life experiences through the lens of her narcissism and called it fiction, but I thought that the much of her stories was still made up.

So I’m visiting family over the holidays and my cousin whom I haven’t talked to since 2015 could tell that a book my mom published in 2019 was very clearly about me and non-fiction. He said that he tried to read the book but “there was just something about it he didn’t like.” It gave me a strange feeling so I read the short story.

It was absolutely not fictionalized at all. The character had a different name but the story contained my exact medical information, exact dates reactions happened. Extremely specific descriptions of my medical issues, many of which were mental.

There’s no question I should have been taken to a child psychologist. By the age of four I’d developed panic disorder, OCD, attachment disorder, and suicidal tendencies. I was not a happy child I was in constant fear and my mom used every detail of this because my story was compelling. I really can’t stress enough that she changed nothing but my name.

She documented exactly what I said during panic attacks that ruined my life. She documented what I said after attempting to drown myself. When they brought me to a therapist she documented how I behaved in the sessions, what I said, what the therapist said. My mother takes a journal with her everywhere and journals in the morning and evening.

She took all these direct quotes and described my every trauma response and brush with death in the first five years of my life. Confidential, highly specific, private information and she got it published and distributed nationally. I helped her do press on that book because I didn’t know. Now all these people know the most intimate details of my excruciating childhood.

I can only assume she did the same with her last book which several of my high school teachers read because they were her graduate students. She wrote the recommendation letters that helped them get that teaching position. My mother is a respected tenured professor at the university in our city. I cannot exaggerate how trapped I feel right now.

Eden, that sucks but it isn’t disturbing. This is me giving you another chance to scroll.

I found out from reading this non fiction “fiction” about my childhood that I was molested. By my mother. She wrote about molesting me. I had no memory of this particular incidence but I do remember another one like it that I ignored by convincing myself it was an accident. So I know that just like everything else in that story, the molestation did happen. I’ve showed it to a social worker and my therapist who both agree what the scene described.

Absolutely horrifying right? Yeah, especially because it’s on the third page. Especially because she gave this book to every member of my large extended family for Christmas. I can’t believe she allowed me to devote hours to publicity for this book. I got her in a Buzzfeed article. I must look like a imbecile to anyone that attends readings and signing who have read the book themselves.

My working theory is that my mother was just doing to me what was done to her by multiple men in her childhood. I don’t think she was attracted to me as a child. Because of her narcissism she didn’t consider how I might be affected from these experiments. Of course she hasn’t acknowledged what happened on any level. The scene is phrased as if I wanted what was happening to be which of course I didn’t because I was four.

I think poorly concealing it in a story was some sort of absolution. If people read it and didn’t call her out that would mean she did nothing wrong. Every mental health physician has suspected molestation even after I insisted it didn’t happen. They only asked about the men in my life, but never my mother.

I don’t know how to feel or act or change as a person or think about it or treat it. Has this dictated everything about my relationship with sex? Has it dictated nothing about my relationship with sex? How do I move forward?

[watchmegetobsessed]

Waiting for you - Harry Styles

❄️ FANFICmas 2020 ❄️

Read more about FANFICmas here!

i wrote it over like a month ago, but kept it for today, i hope yall will like it! it’s a cute bestfriends to lovers fic, so yeah... happy holidays, hope you are having an amazing time!

word count: 13k

masterlist

Harry Styles has been a household name around your home, but not for the reason many would think. While for the rest of the world he was the famous singer, former member of One Direction and recent solo artist, the guy who performs at the biggest arenas, wins awards and sings his heart out through the radio, for you and your mom he was the goofy, curly haired boy who lived across the street with his mum, sister and stepdad.

You still remember all too clear the first time you met him. You and your mum just moved into your new home after the nasty divorce of your parents, ready to start a new life. You’ve barely turned twelve, it was quite the awkward stage of your teenage years, you were still trying to find yourself on the rocky road of growing up. Moving to a whole new town and switching schools were terrifying and you had quite a few nightmares about possible outcomes of being the new girl in the neighborhood.

You and your mum just finished unpacking the dishes in the kitchen when the doorbell rang. She rushed to answer it and you wandered behind her, curiously peeking at the guests under her arm as she held the door open.

“Hi! We saw the trucks and thought we would say hi! I’m Anne and this is my son, Harry,” the nice woman greeted your mum and stepping aside she gestured towards the teenage boy standing next to her.

His green eyes fell to you almost immediately and you forgot to breathe for a moment. You were not the kind to crush that easily on guys, well, not until you laid your eyes on Harry. He smirked at you, nodding in your way in such an easy-going manner and you could feel the heat crawling up your neck to your cheeks and ears.

Anne and your mum quickly became good friends. She was the rock your mum definitely needed after such a bad year behind her and you were glad she found support in such a wonderful woman as Anne. Their newly funded friendship got stronger day by day until the two families just… simply felt one.

Growing up the Styles siblings and Anne came and go in your home as if they lived there too. On many occasions you came home from school only to find Anne in the kitchen while your mother wasn’t even home. Anne always knew when your mum was working the night shift at the hospital where she was a nurse and always made sure you had a warm dinner on those evenings, often inviting you over to just stay at theirs while your mum was away working. Birthdays, graduations, Easters and Christmases, they were all spent at either yours or at the Styles home, strengthening the bond between the two families.

You have always had a strong friendship with Gemma, but maybe because you were closer in age or for something else, but you became the closest with Harry. Two peas in a pod, as your mums liked to call the two of you. You weren’t just neighbors or good friends, it was clear to anyone and to both of you as well that you were the best of friends. You were there for each other at the best and worst of times, before and after Harry’s launch to stardom. You were there with him all along, sometimes physically, sometimes just through text messages and reassuring calls when he just needed a piece of his home away from home. Late night calls and talks were your usual when he was on the road and he made sure to only talk about his life after you’ve told him everything about yours, even if the most interesting thing was that you were able to buy three socks for the price of two. Harry listened and cared for everything that happened to you, not letting you think even for a moment that he would forget about his best friend when he is on the other side of the planet.

The two of you grew up together and while his life consisted of concerts, screaming fans, telly appearances and award shows, your mundane everydays went on the same was as any normal young girl’s: you graduated from high school, went to uni and then started a career for yourself. As time was moving it became a little more and more complicated to stay as close as you used to, though, both of you terribly busy with your own personal lives, so the calls, texts and meetings became less frequent, but you were always able to pick up from where you left, it was as easy with him as it could be.

Maybe that’s why you grew to love him in a more than friendly way through the years. Slowly, but surely you started to realize what an amazing man he really was –is. It was impossible not to fall for him, however you valued your close friendship more than to just ruin it with dropping a bomb on Harry. You always thought he doesn’t feel the same way, so you were sadly left with your daydreams and fantasies about him only your bedroom walls heard.

This year it’s gonna be the tenth Christmas you get to celebrate together, quite the anniversary. There were only two years when you didn’t see each other during the holidays, the first one because you and your mum spent it in Canada with some relatives that live there, and the second one was because Harry couldn’t come home a few years ago, having a too tight schedule. But this year, everyone made sure to make it back home in time. Harry called you three month before Christmas to check in if you are still gonna coming home.

“Would be an idiot not to. Can’t wait to stuff my head with cookies!” you chuckled.

“Have you found your sweater yet?” Harry questioned, the muffled noise of the traffic around him broke through the line as he was on his way home when he called.

“Not yet. But I’ve been looking. I’m pretty sure I’m gonna win this year,” you smirked in victory.

“Oh, not so fast with the assumptions, little girl!” he warned you making you laugh.

The two of you had a kind of tradition. Every year, you go on mission to find the ugliest Christmas sweaters one could find, and then perform a chosen song at the karaoke machine after dinner, entertaining the rest of the family. Those performances are the best memories you nurse. Your absolute favorite one was just a couple of years ago when Harry’s sweater was filled with weird looking reindeers in quite inappropriate poses, he even added a glittery pair of sunnies and he sang I Want To Break Free from the Queen. Everyone was on the floor laughing as he took the living room by storm as if it was the Maddison Square Garden filled with thousands of screaming fans, while it was just the five of you.

He won that year, Hell, even you voted on him, giving him the cleanest win of all times, but you swore to live up to that performance and you really feel like this year is gonna be your chance to live up to that promise. You have quite some tricks up your sleeves.

These past couple of years you were anxiously waiting for the holidays to roll around, because you knew you would get to spend so much time with Harry and through the year, even with several occasions of the two of you meeting, you missed him dearly. Sometimes you selfishly wished he would have just stayed the boy across the street so your lives could take tracks that run at least close to each other, but you always reminded yourself that his work was his life and you would have never taken away his true passion and happiness. Besides, you love watching him perform from time to time, that was just one of your favorite sides of him, see his eyes shine so bright as he sang to his fans. You used to envy the fangirls, it always seemed like he had a special connection with them, but you realized that you were one of them. You felt the same excitement when he stepped on the stage, you bought all his albums, even though he made sure you’d be one of the first people to get your hands on it. You had a second copy of them, because buying it gave you the extra jolt of happiness and the feeling that you were a tiny part of his success too. You watched all his music videos, knew the lyrics to his songs and cheered on him whenever he won another award. Difference was that at the end of the day you could call him and tell him how proud you were of him and he stared back at you with that beautiful grin, his dimples digging deep in his cheeks, telling you that he wouldn’t be here without you. You always knew he just said it to make you feel special, but he insisted it was the truth.

“I’m telling you. It you weren’t with me I would have gone crazy already, pulling a Justin Bieber or summat. Don’t think you are any less than what you are, that’s just daft.”

Every time he said something along those lines those damned butterflies in your stomach went crazy and you tried your best to ignore them. You didn’t always succeed, but the effort was there.

 Now it’s two days before Christmas and you are already standing in your old room after coming home from London, leaving your small but cozy little apartment empty until the next year. The walls are still the same lilac color you chose when you were fourteen, a twin bed is pushed against the wall under your window, the wardrobe’s door is littered with old pictures from high school and ones you cut out from magazines. You just never got around to take them down and after a while it brought you a comforting sense every time you came home. A warm nostalgia took over you when you saw them, so they eventually stayed.

Your suitcase is lying on the floor as you unpack some stuff you’ll be using often during your stay, but you don’t get far in the packing when you hear an all too familiar voice coming from downstairs. Leaving your stuff as it is you rush down and throw your arms around Anne from behind, who is standing in the kitchen with your mum.

“My sweet angel! How are you?!” she cheers turning around in your hold to hug you back, giving you a tight squeeze before she pushes you away so she can have a good look on you. “Swear you get prettier every time I see you!”

“Stop it, my head’s gonna get big,” you chuckle feeling yourself blushing a little.

“Never gonna stop praising my daughter,” she smiles and gifts you with a cheeky wink.

Anne was never shy to let you know that she thought of you as a second daughter and you still remember how it felt when she called you that for the first time. It felt nice to know that you could count on her no matter what.

The three of you chat in the kitchen, Anne asks you about your job and how things have been going, she hasn’t seen you in a while. You missed the times when you could just go across the street and have a talk with her whenever you wanted, but since you’ve moved to London, Harry wasn’t the only one you didn’t get to see as often as you would have wanted. Your job and life overall got you so busy sometimes, you barely had time to call your own mum.

“Harry is arriving this evening. Wanna come with us to fetch him up at the airport?” she asks you and of course you say yes. You wouldn’t miss the chance to greet him with a bone crushing hug just after he lands.

However, as the time nears when you’d have to leave to the airport, Anne calls you up and asks if you could go on your own.

“I didn’t finish cooking and Gems is in an online meeting. Would you mind if you went alone?” she asks and though it sounds a little made up, you don’t question her.

On your way to the airport you are nervously drumming on the wheel, the thought of seeing Harry excites and worries you a little. It’s been months since you last seen him in the flesh and though you’ve talked plenty of times on the phone and in video calls, it’s just not the same. You find yourself wondering if he still smells the same, if you’ll fit the same way into his embrace as before. When you were younger you often liked to think about the two of you as two pieces of legos when you hugged. Your frame just fitted so perfectly against his body, he was your absolutely favorite person to hug.

Standing in a corner at the terminal, you keep checking the board until his flight’s status changes to landed. Then your eyes are glued to the sliding glass doors, knowing well it’s gonna take him some time to get his bags and walk out, but you are just way too excited to finally see him again.

People start walking through the doors and your head perks up every time you see a slightly tall frame, only to realize it’s still not him. Until it is.

You can’t bite your growing smile back when you spot him, a beanie and the hood of his hoodie covering his mop of hair, sunnies hiding his eyes, but you’d recognize him even from just the tiniest detail. You push yourself away from the wall as you see him look around, probably searching for his mum and sister, because he was already on his way when Anne decided it’s gonna be you who fetches him up, so he doesn’t know about the change.

“Excuse me, can I get a picture?” you ask teasingly walking up to him and for a moment you can tell he believes it’s a fan who recognized him, but his face quickly changes once his eyes land on you.

“Fo’ fuck’s sake, you had me for a second,” he breathes out, his arms already reaching out to pull you against him and you gladly envelop yourself into his hold. “What are you doing here?” he mumbles tightening his arms around you, and you don’t mind it. As you face is pressed into his shoulder you smile when you realize that he still smells the same. Like home.

“Your mum asked me to come and get you because she didn’t finish cooking. But if you ask me she just wanted to surprise you with me. You happy to see me?” you smirk up at him letting your head fall back so you could look into his eyes.

“Always,” he grins before placing a soft kiss to your temple and letting go of you.

The two of you leave the terminal before anyone could recognize him and packing his stuff up into the car you head back home.

You hand your phone over to him once you hit the road so he can be in charge of the music and it’s no surprise when he starts playing Christmas music straight away. Grinning to yourself you glance over at him and see him scrolling through your camera roll like the nosy little gremlin that he is.

“Hey! I did not give you permission to snoop around my phone!” you warn him, but don’t try to snatch it away from him, there’s really nothing he shouldn’t see, besides, half of those pics have been sent to him through messages.

“Just tryna catch up w’ you,” he mumbles under his breath, continuously opening up photos he is interested in. “New couch, eh?” he asks showing you the screen for a second.

“Yeah, bought it a few weeks ago. You like it?”

“Looks comfy. I should try it out sometime.”

“You never sleep on my couch, what are you talking about?”

“Right, you always drag me t’ your bed,” he snorts and you gasp at him, smacking his chest gently.

“That’s so not true! You always just arbitrarily make yourself comfortable in my bed and I don’t have the heart to kick you out,” you correct him.

There hasn’t been many times when Harry crashed at your place, but when he did, he always slept in your bed with you, and the two of you have shared a bed a few other times prior too. It’s nothing new, though it does have a deeper meaning for you than for him, you think. Waking up with Harry snoring lightly next to you, admiring how peaceful and beautiful he is in this intimate state, you just wish you could see him like this all the time.

Harry smirks at you cheekily, scrunching his nose as he chuckles.

“’Cause I wouldn’t want to sleep anywhere else, Love,” he says before turning his attention back to your phone while you try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach at the nickname.

It’s quite late by the time you get home, you’ve run into some traffic, but it just meant more time with Harry. You gladly listened to his stories and you are happy you got some alone time with him. Parking up to your driveway you help him unload his bags before locking the car.

“Wanna go to the Christmas market in the morning? Promised Gemma I’d go with her and Michal,” he asks, slowly walking down the driveway towards his home.

“Uh, sure,” you nod smiling. Not that you had any other plans, the holidays are reserved for family and the Styles’ are family.

“Great, I’ll be here at ten. And thanks for the ride,” he smirks waving goodbye and you watch him cross the street before he disappears in his home and you do the same.

“Y/N? Is that you?” your mum calls out when you walk in.

“Were you expecting anyone else?” you ask, hanging your coat before you join her in the living room.

“Not,” she smiles giddily. “Was everything alright at the airport?”

You throw your legs over her lap and she squeezes your ankles playfully.

“Yeah, everything fine.”

“How is Harry?”

“Cheeky and smug, as always,” you huff smirking.

“Can’t wait to see him. I feel like I haven’t seen ‘im in ages.”

“When are they coming over tomorrow?”

“Anne said she’ll come around four to help me cook, the rest I don’t know. Dinner will be done around seven though.”

“I’m pretty sure Gemma and Harry will be here along with Anne,” you snort, knowing well they wouldn’t miss a chance to come over, especially Harry. He has been talking nonstop how he’ll be glued to your hip once he is back home, making up for all the time you’ve spent apart.

“They surely will,” your mum chuckles before you both turn your attention at the telly.

You go to bed way after midnight and finish up the packing you left abruptly when you left to get Harry. Shuffling around in your room you glance out the window and see that the light in Harry’s room is on too. Peeking out you lean against the window’s frame, thinking about the times when the two of you sat in the window, talking on the phone after curfew, keeping your voice down so your parents didn’t wake up, sharing secrets and your silliest thoughts. With Harry, you never felt like you had to keep anything back, he would have never judged you for anything, you could be your true self around him and vice versa.

A tall figure appears at the window and as Harry glances out his window he is quick to see you sitting on the window sill, your head resting against the frame. The two houses are not far away from each other and you see him grinning as he sits at the window as well, pulling out his phone, a moment later yours starts buzzing on the nightstand. You quickly grab it, and go back to the window.

“Creeping on me, eh?” he hums into the phone and you roll your eyes at him.

“Was just admiring the street lights, don’t flatter yourself, your head is getting too big,” you huff, but you can’t push your smirk down.

“Admit it, you were hoping to see me roam around naked, weren’t you?”

“As if I haven’t seen you like that before,” you snort making him laugh too. It’s true, Harry has never been shy to get rid of his clothes and he also doesn’t bother to draw the blinds whenever he is changing. You once saw him butt naked when he was nineteen, and when you told him to close the blinds next time he is changing, he just shrugged with a smug smile.

“’M not ashamed of anything, Love,” he told you and you had to turn away because you were blushing for sure.

“Right, you’re a fan of putting yourself on full display when you’re naked, almost forgot,” you chuckle shaking your head. “Millions of girls have the picture of you, lying naked on their walls.”

“You one of them?” he cheekily asks.

“Nah, doesn’t go well with the vibe of my apartment.”

“Shame. Though I think it would definitely look amazin’ above your bed, Love.”

“Now would it? I don’t know about that.”

“I’ll get you a copy framed,” he smirks and you can see it clear even from the distance. “Y’ know what? I’ll make you an exclusive one. One that nobody else has, how does that sound?”

“I can’t believe you, Styles,” you chuckle shaking your head. “I’m not gonna answer this, just gonna head to bed. You should too.”

“So we’re not sharing any secrets like we used to? Thought you’d have something fo’ me.”

“You know everything, Harry,” you sigh with a soft smile, though your heart skips a beat. He does know everything, except one big, fat, heavy secret you’ve been carrying around for way too long, that will probably stay with you forever.

“Right. Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.” “Night, Harry.”

“Good night, Love,” he murmurs and you know he is smiling, thought he steps away from the window as he says goodbye and you do the same before ending the call.

 ***

 “Hey! That’s mine!” you protest as Harry steals another roasted chestnut from your little paper bag, but you can’t stay mad at him when he is smiling at you so sweetly.

“Sorry, tastes better when it’s someone else’s.”

“Sure,” you snort and just let him get as many as he wants. You wouldn’t have eaten it all anyway.

It’s quite cold out in the town, but at least there’s no rain or storm, so the weather didn’t try to ruin your little trip to the Christmas market.

Gemma calls out for Harry to show him something and you just keep wandering between the booths, enjoying the atmosphere quite a lot, you have no idea when was the last time you got to come to the market, though you always loved coming when you were younger.

Finishing up your chestnuts you throw the paper bag into a trash can and turn around to find the rest of your little group, spotting Harry and Gemma deep in discussion next to a booth that offers handmade ceramic mugs. As you walk closer it almost seems like as if they were having a fight, which is just odd, they rarely do that.

“Just get your head out of your arse!” you catch Gemma telling her brother who only groans in frustration before he spots you, a smile plastering across his face.

“Hey, there you are!” he beams.

“Everything alright?” you ask looking at them.

“Sure, just Gemma is being a little nosy, is all,” Harry waves in dismiss. You glance over to Gems, but she is already back in discussion with Michal so you decide to drop it. “You ate all the chestnuts?” Harry asks offended, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“Well, it was mine, so of course I ate them!”

“Selfish,” he narrows his eyes at you, but you both know it’s just a joke.

You walk further down in the aisle, occasionally stopping at some of the booth when you spot a place that offers hot chocolate in cute little mugs that you can take home with you if you’d like, or just take it back and get your money back.

“Oh look!” you gasp excitedly and head towards the hot chocolate booth. The old lady smiles brightly at the two of you as you take a look at all the choices. “Oh my god, they have caramel flavored!” you cheer, basically already drooling at the thought of a good, caramel flavored hot chocolate.

“What can I get for the lovely couple?” the lady smiles warmly at the two of you and you freeze at her assumption.

“Oh we—“ you start, but Harry cuts you off.

“A caramel flavored and a plain one, please,” he orders, without even batting an eye about how the lady just called you a couple. You can feel your cheeks heating up at the thought, but you try to calm yourself. He probably just didn’t want to get into explaining that you two are not an item and let her think what she wanted.

The nice lady hands you your mug and you take Harry’s as well as he pays for both of them. You would try to argue with him and pay yours, but you are already used to how stubborn he is and he never lets you split anything, it’s always on him.

“Thank you, have a nice day!” Harry calls out to the lady before the two of you leave. You peek at him handing him his mug, looking for any clue that would give away if this little scene got him just as bothered as it did you, but he looks perfectly fine and relaxed, so you decide not to bring it up. You’re sure he didn’t think much of it.

Your little stroll stretches into the afternoon, the four of you decide to have lunch out there too, then you just opt for a walk in town as Gemma wants to do a quick last minute Christmas shopping, so by the time you get home Anne is already over at yours helping your mum with dinner. Tonight you are all eating at yours, then tomorrow it’s the Styles’ turn to host, this is how you agreed this year.

“Woah, it smells amazing!” you call out walking into the house. The delicious smells fill up the whole place and you hear the two women giggling in the kitchen.

“Hi Honey, how was the market?” your mum greets you, a glass of red wine in her hand and the same goes for Anne.

“Great, we have a new mug,” you say holding up the emptied out hot chocolate mug. Stepping to the sink you wash it quickly and drying off you put it away in one of the cabinets.

You stick around in the kitchen and not so much later Harry comes over, the two of you leave your mums alone and get comfortable in front of the telly.

All channels are filled with holiday movies and you don’t mind, really, you like them all even if you’ve seen them a million times, you still find them funny and cute. Harry feels the same way, so when you settle on Love Actually he doesn’t say a word.

What startles you is that he grabs your ankles and pulls your legs over his lap, a small shriek escaping your mouth since you weren’t expecting him to do that. You’re sitting sideways, your legs are bent at the knee and Harry is kind of hugging them as his eyes are glued to the screen.

You find it rather hard to focus on the movie when Harry’s fingers keep fidgeting on your legs, they keep running up and down, sometimes he lays his hands flat on your knees, there’s no spot he hasn’t touched since you started watching the movie.

About an hour into the film he turns to you and you look at him in question.

“’M in the mood to cuddle,” he announces and starts moving around, not even letting you protest as he basically crawls to your lap, resting his head on your stomach as the two of you lay on the couch.

“Am I now your personal pillow?” you ask chuckling, but you wouldn’t want him to move for anything. Feeling him weigh down on you just feels so warm and simple but amazing.

“The best one,” he mumbles, bringing a hand to your side as you let your fingers comb through his curls.

You keep massaging his scalp and he lets out soft moans when you go over a soft spot, you can’t help but chuckle as he melts under your hands. His fingers start drawing circles on your side and the movie is long forgotten by you, all you can focus on is how great it is to have Harry so close to you. He is known to be a physical person, you are used to hugs and touches, but it seems like he is a little needier now than the usual.

You don’t mind it though, you just try to enjoy the moment, because it can end anytime.

Gemma and Michal come over a little before seven, and while your mums finish up the cooking the four of you set the table. You grab the crystal glasses and start placing them to the table, Harry lending you a hand. Once the table is all set you shuffle into the kitchen to see if there’s anything you can help with, Harry following you behind, placing a hand to the small of your back.

As you stand and wait for you mum to finish up the meals so you can help carry them to the table you feel Harry’s hand wander over to your hip, giving it a squeeze as he stands closer, so his chest is pressed against your back.

“Harry?” you ask a little out of breath.

“Hm?” he innocently hums.

“What’s with you today?” Turning your head to the side your eyes lock with his, but he just shrugs smiling.

“Guess I just missed yeh a lot.”

“You’re weird,” you chuckle shaking your head, but don’t make an effort to push him away. His touch feels way too good to put an end to it and you just want to be selfish a little longer.

His hands leave you when the two of you help to bring the food to the table, and you almost wish they would just return, but you gotta swallow the thought.

The food is amazing, as always. You all sip on some wine, just having a genuinely good time, enjoying that all of you are back at one place, something that rarely happens now that all three of you kids are all grown up.

At one point Harry rests his arm on the back of your chair, no one seems to notice but you. All these little things have been driving you crazy all day and your mind seems to be playing a nasty game with you. There’s no way Harry thinks of these details more than what they are, a friendly gesture towards an old friend of his.

When Gemma is telling a story about some weird guy she met at work Harry reaches up and pushes your hair behind your ear, his finger lingering over your neck a little longer than you would have expected. Turning to face him you give him a questioning look, not sure what to think about his needy and touchy self all of a sudden.

“What?” you mouth him, but he just smiles at you absentmindedly, curling a strand of hair around his finger, playing with it for a moment before letting go of it and going for another lock. You reach up and pull his hand away, feeling yourself heating up from his touch, but when you are about to let go of his hand he grabs yours, lacing your fingers together with yours as he rests them on his thigh.

“Harry…” you breathe out, glancing at the others, relieved to see that they are not paying much attention to the two of you.

“What? Am I not allowed to touch you?” he asks with a smug smirk and you roll your eyes at him.

“As I said, you’re weird,” you mumble under your breath looking down at your now empty plate. Harry gives your hand a squeeze.

“But like, the good kind of weird, yeah?”

“Shut up,” you chuckle shaking your head at him.

You try to tell yourself he is just needy because it’s been so long since you last saw each other. It can’t be more, you push even the smallest thought to the back of your mind, though it surely lingers there throughout the evening.

He helps you with washing the dishes, you stand arm to arm at the sink as you scrub the plates and hand over to him for drying. He gently hums to himself all along, swaying his hips, bumping against yours. At first you resist it, but then you catch the rhythm and start moving along, so your hips meet in the middle before swinging to the opposite side.

“What’s the song?” you ask finishing up the last plate.

“Just something random,” he shrugs smirking over at you. You hand him the last plate, he is still singing, making up gibberish lyrics to his song and once he puts the plate down he throws the kitchen cloth to the counter and easily grabs your waist pulling you against him as he starts swaying with you to his impromptu song. You let out a small shriek at the sudden movement, but eventually melt into his hold. The humming slowly turns into an all too familiar melody as Harry starts singing Sweet Creature into your ear, slow dancing in the kitchen while you hear your mums and Gemma laugh outside somewhere.

Your hands run up his arms and stop behind his neck as you lock your fingers and let him hold you close, his palms are pressed to your waist, fingers gently stroking you through the fabric of your shirt. You take a deep breath and his cologne fills your nose, one of your favorite scents, sometimes you just wish you could spray it on your pillow so it would always smell like him.

“Sweet creature, wherever I go, you bring me home…” he softly sings, leaning back just enough for your eyes to meet. It feels like your heart is about to burst out of your chest, it’s not the first time you feel so intimidated by him, like you could pass out any moment, but this is a little different. As if his eyes were telling you another story, but you can’t completely make up the words.

“Sweet creature, when I run out of road, you bring me home, you’ll bring me home.” He finishes the song, hums the closing melody and you watch him in complete awe. Your lips part when you catch his gaze move down to them and you swear you see him leaning closer, as if he is about to kiss you. Your breath gets caught in your throat, he is so close, just a few more inches and you’d taste those perfect lips of his, the ones you’ve been dreaming about for way too long.

It almost happens, it seems, but just when that last push is about to set in Gemma waltz into the kitchen and you step back faster than light, pushing him away even though the sudden lack of his touch is more painful than you were expecting.

“You guys—Oh, what’s up?” she asks stopping at the door and you feel yourself getting redder with each passing moment, the heat crawling up your neck, ears cheeks, right to the top of your head. What were you thinking? You let yourself believe Harry would ever kiss you, this whole scene was nothing more than just a friendly moment the two of you were sharing.

“I’m—sorry,” you breathe out making your way out of the kitchen, right up to your room to have some well needed space.

“Way to ruin everything,” Harry snickers at his sister.

“You joking? You wanted to kiss her in her mum’s kitchen?” Gemma snaps at him in disbelief.

“We were having a moment,” he mumbles rubbing his face with his hands. “Up until you stomped in with your big mouth.”

“Well, if you were havin’ a moment, just make it happen again.”

“As if it’s that easy, Gemma!” he scoffs throwing his hands in the air.

“Man up and tell her how you feel, don’t have to complicate it too much,” she shrugs before walking out and leaving her brother alone. Harry growls in frustration, the gears in his head turning wildly as he is trying to figure out how to come clear to you about his feelings.

 Meanwhile, up in your room you get out your laptop and busy yourself with checking up on messages and emails you’ve been ignoring, hoping that the uneasy feeling in your chest will ease very soon. Your hands were shaking when you locked yourself up in your room, but as you get focused on other tasks you slowly gain your balance back.

You kind of even forget that the Styles’ were over, you only realize that you abruptly pulled yourself out of the evening when there’s a soft knock on your door.

“Come on in!” you call out and a moment later Harry’s head pops in, eyes softly falling on your sitting figure on the bed. “Hey,” you smile at him faintly.

“Hey. Thought you were sleepin’s or summat.” Coming inside he closes the door behind him then sits on your plush rug in the middle of the room.

“Just… sorted some work related things out,” you sigh.

“Working during the holidays? Tha’s not healthy.”

“I know, I’m done,” you smile shutting the laptop down and putting it aside. “Sorry I disappeared, I just—“

“No worries,” Harry shakes his head. “Mum and Gems went home, they thought you were sleeping too, tha’s why they didn’t say goodbye.”

“Oh, alright.”

“But I thought we could have a sleepover,” he peeks at you with a boyish smile.

“What, like we did in middle school?” you chuckle.

“Yea, thought it would be fun.”

“Well, I don’t think my bed would fit us comfortably and we don’t have the mattress anymore that you used to sleep on,” you tell him looking around.

“Nonsense, I’m not tha’ big,” he insists hopping to his feet and throwing himself on the bed, ignoring that you’re already there. His body takes up more than half on the bed , limbs wrapping around you as he brings you down to the mattress next to him, you can’t help the laugh that leaves your lips.

“You’re like a gigantic baby, Harry!” you laugh as he keeps you down on the bed with his arm.

“It’s perfectly fine for two people,” he mumbles with a smirk, closing his eyes as his head sinks into your pillow.

“Do you ever get no as an answer?” you ask looking at him in awe. You can never get used to seeing him so up close, like not many get to.

“No,” he huffs in satisfaction, his arm bringing you closer to him and you just giggle at him.

“I’m not sleeping just yet, gotta have a shower first.”

“Do what you want, I’ll be here,” he mumbles but you snort at him.

“You’re not sleeping in my bed without having a shower,” you tell him before you grab your pajamas and head to the bathroom.

You have a quick shower and get done with all your evening business. Returning to your room you find Harry sitting on the floor, his back against the side of the bed as he is scrolling through his phone.

“Does mum know you’re staying over?” you ask him as you throw your used clothes into the hamper, moving around the room while feeling his eyes on you.

“Yeah. ‘S all good.”

“You need a towel?”

“Yes please,” he says pushing himself up from the floor.

“Clothes?” you ask with an arched brow. He just grins at you and it’s enough of an answer. “Here,” you give him the shirt and sweats he has left at yours quite some time ago, along with a clean towel.

“Thanks,” he smirks before leaving to occupy the bathroom.

He doesn’t take long in there, you’re lying in bed already when he returns, smelling like your shower gel, strawberry and melon.

He throws his clothes to the chair in the corner and then lies beside you on the bed. You scoot over to the wall to give him space, but he is quick to bring you closer to him once he has made himself comfortable. You lay your head on his shoulder as you are both scrolling through your phones.

When you had enough, you throw yours to the nightstand, and stay cuddled up to his side.

“Do you remember the last time I slept here?” he asks tossing his phone to the nightstand and bringing his arms around you.

“Mm, was it at my twentieth birthday?”

“Yeah. You were so wasted,” he chuckles and you smirk to yourself

“But you took good care of me.”

“I did. You were so cute, rambling about how much you love me when I took you home from the pub.”

You bite into your bottom lip. You still remember that night vividly. Your birthday party had gone a little wild and you had gotten drunker than you intended to. Luckily, he was there to bring your home and he stayed in the bathroom with you as you threw up everything you ate and drank that evening. Then he made you take a shower, got you fresh clothes out and helped you get into bed. He slept next to you that night, holding you in his arms, gently caressing your back and upper arm as you fell into your drunken slumber. In the morning you told yourself he just did what any other friend would do, helping you out when you were clearly knocked out, but he made you breakfast in the morning since your mum was working all night and morning and he stayed over later the afternoon to make sure you were alright.

What you told him in your drunken state about loving him, it wasn’t just your friendly side, it was your drunken self coming clear to him, telling him that you are in love with him, but he didn’t take it seriously and you were too ashamed and awkward to even bring it up to him after that, so it was all forgotten very soon.

Following that you planned on telling him how you feel, several times. You even wrote a little speech you planned to give him when the time comes, but you couldn’t do it. The fear of losing him if he doesn’t feel the same was stronger than you expected and every time you had the chance to come clear, you chickened out. The thought of losing him as a friend is way worse than having to push your feelings down... forever. You just can’t imagine your life without Harry in it and you can’t risk losing him.

The two of you talk for quite a while, laughing about the good old times, until you both fall asleep. Sometime in the middle of the night you wake up and feel Harry wrapped around you, his head lying on your chest as he is snoring softly. He truly is like a big baby, an arm thrown over your stomach, his legs tangled with yours. Good Lord, how amazing it feels to have him so close to you!

Reaching up you tangle your fingers through his hair gently so he doesn’t wake up, his soft curls glide between your fingers easily and lifting your head you kiss the top of his head before letting yourself drift back to sleep.

When you open your eyes the next time the situation is the opposite, you are the one cuddled up to Harry’s side who is scrolling through his phone with one hand, keeping the other one on your arm.

“Mornin’, sleepy head,” he chuckles softly when he sees you awake.

“Mmm, what time is it?” you ask letting your head rest on his chest a little longer.

“Quarter to nine. You can sleep a little more if you want, it’s not that late.”

“No, I promised mum I’d help her wrap gifts,” you sigh rolling over to your stomach as you push yourself up to your elbows to look at him. “Love the double chin you got going there,” you tease him sleepily and he just smirks.

“Yea? Quite cute, right? Worked a lot on it,” he jokes running his finger over it before letting out a chuckle. “Ready for our battle today?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be. You are going down this year, Styles,” you tell him pushing yourself up into a sitting position. Harry only pushes himself further on the bed enough to rest his head against the headboard.

“Oh really? I wouldn’t be that sure about tha’,” he warns you, but you are feeling pretty confident about your performance this year. There’s no way he can top it.

“We’ll see. Alright, I need a coffee. Want something for breakfast?” you ask him crawling out of the bed.

“Yeah, that would be nice.”

Your mum is already in the kitchen, sipping on her morning coffee while reading the paper. She doesn’t find it even a bit weird that Harry spent the night at yours, it’s been quite the usual for you. Harry helps you make eggs and bacon and the three of you eat together, having a lovely time and you genuinely feel like it’s just like in the good old times when you were still living home and Harry wasn’t Harry Styles, but the boy from across the street.

He goes home after breakfast to help his own mum with the cooking for tonight’s dinner and you don’t do much for the rest of the day, just spend time with your mum, watch movies and relax. It’s nice to unwind after such a busy year behind you.

Not long before five you go to take a shower and get ready to head over to the Styles’ and you pack everything you’ll need for the evening: gifts, ugly sweater, accessories. Harry is going down this year for sure.

It’s a little past six when you and your mum walk across the street, Anne’s Christmas lights are putting the little town house into the spirit for sure. You don’t even ring the bell, just walk straight in, like you always do. The Christmas tree stands tall in their living room and the table is already nicely set. Gemma and Michal are snuggled up on the couch while Harry is helping Anne in the kitchen with the finishing touches.

“I’m rooting for you this year,” Gemma winks at you when you set down your bag in the corner that has everything you’ll need for your performance.

“He’s gonna lose this round,” you smirk proudly, very sure in yourself.

Harry greets you with a bright smile and a tight hug when he walks into the living room, as if you didn’t just see each other a few hours earlier.

When the food is ready you all sit down to eat, and though you’re trying your best to focus on the conversation, you’re getting excited about tonight’s karaoke battle.

“Anxious much?” Harry asks you quietly.

“Why are you asking?”

He doesn’t answer, just places a hand to your thigh stopping it from shaking, making you realize you’ve been probably bouncing it all along. He smirks at you as you just roll your eyes at him.

“’S okay, you can handle one more year of losing,” he teases you and you give him an arched eyebrow.

“Don’t be so full of yourself, Harry,” you warn him, but he just squeezes your thigh again before bringing his hands back up to the table, leaving you a little breathless with his touch.

You all help clean up the table after dinner and when it’s done, you gather in the living room to open gifts.

When Harry’s career launched, the first few years you felt anxious about gifting him, because you felt like you couldn’t give him enough. He had all the money and bought everything he needed for himself, there wasn’t much you could give him. But when one time, you admitted to him this struggle of yours he assured you that it doesn’t matter what you give him, it’ll always be precious to him.

“You thought about me, you took the time to buy something for me, and that’s more than enough, Y/N,” he told you and though it took you time, but you got used to it. Especially when you saw the same excitement in his eyes every time you gifted something to him, you slowly but surely realized he wasn’t expecting a Gucci suit, but a thoughtful gesture.

Gathering in the living room you open the presents one by one and just as always, everyone was quite creative with the gifts. You can’t help but still feel a little anxious when Harry grabs his gift from you. Giving you an excited look he unties the little bow on the top and tears the wrapping paper off.

“Y/N!” he breathes out, eyes softening as he pulls the knitted cardigan out of the box.

“I always saw you wearing all sorts of cardigans and so I finally had a reason to learn how to knit, so I thought I would make one for you,” you ramble as he holds up the baby blue cardigan that has little daisies all over the front. It took you an entire week to just make the daisies, you worked on the whole cardigan for more than two months, usually in the middle of the night, staying up until unholy hours to finish in time.

But Harry’s smile is worth it all, he is beaming, clearly so in love with what you made him, so you breathe out relieved. He then puts it aside and wraps his arms around you pulling you into the tightest hug.

“Thank you, I love it so much,” he mumbles and kisses your temple and you breathe in his sweet scent, burying yourself in his embrace, hugging his waist.

When you part, Harry reaches for a box from under the tree and hands it to you, a nervous smile tugging on his lips. You can tell he wrapped the gift himself, the silver wrapping paper is a little uneven, but the huge rainbow colored bow on the top is the perfect touch that makes it like a piece of him.

You carefully tear the paper off, peeking inside you just see a plain box that doesn’t give much away. Glancing up at Harry you see how he is anxiously biting his bottom lip, even though you’d be happy with a gift as small as a candle. It’s the thought that counts.

“I-I wasn’t sure if this was the one you mentioned to me, so I hope it’s gonna be alright,” he mumbles, eyes fixed on your hands as they open the box, while you try to think back what you have told him about that caught his attention, but you just can’t recall what you wanted to get so badly you told Harry about it.

As you open the box you don’t process what it is immediately, the plastic wrapper making it hard to figure it out, but when you carefully pull out the object, you gasp in surprise.

“Harry!” you breathe out as you pull off the plastic of the old, vintage polaroid camera. It’s not one of these new types you can buy in stores easily, this is a classic, must have quite a history behind it.

Now you vaguely remember talking about longing for an oldschool, vintage camera, but it was months ago and you’ve forgotten about the whole thing since these devices cost a fortune because there aren’t many left from them. But now there’s one in your hands, because Harry not only listened to you, but he remembered and went out of his way to find you one in amazing condition.

“This must have cost a fortune!” you huff, your heart pounding in your chest, though you already know it doesn’t matter to him.

“This face is worth every penny,” he smiles at you softly before you throw yourself at him for another round of hugging. This man surely knows how to have you wrapped around his fingers.

The two of you sit on the floor as you figure out how to make the camera work, Harry bought everything needed, so you have a few packs of films as well. When it’s all done you bring it up to your face and aim it at Harry. It takes him a moment to realize that you’re about to snap your first photo and he tries to snatch the camera away, but it’s too late, the flash goes off and the device pushes out the undeveloped picture.

“You wasted your first snap on me?” he protests rubbing his eyes after the flash blinded him for a little.

“It’s not a waste,” you tell him as you patiently wait for the picture to finally appear.

Slowly, the colors start to show and in a couple of minutes Harry’s face appears, his hand reaching in the direction of the camera, looking out of focus, only his face appearing clearly. He looks so delicate, his eyes dazzling as a soft smile plays on his lips. This moment now will live forever not just in your mind, but on this photo.

 Harry goes out with his karaoke performance this year for sure and you’d be actually anxious about him winning if only you didn’t have the absolutely best performance right in your pocket.

His sweater this year features some really ugly looking penguins and a horroristic reindeer on the back, it’s really ugly and you can’t even imagine who thought it would be fine to make it and then sell it. His choice of music is also excellent, he has a great eye for songs you’d never imagine him perform and then shock everyone with it. This year, he chose Rude Boy by none other than Rihanna, and it’s fantastic, no one can make it through the song without crying. Harry makes sure to put on his best show, even dancing and twerking unapologetically, trying everything to win the battle and you are amazed by his effort. Above all the fun and jokes, he nails the song, that’s undeniable. It always baffles you how he can just slay any and all genres, even the ones that stand a million miles away from his style.

When the song is over, you all cheer for him, because he truly deserves it. He grins down at you in victory, but you just give him a challenging smirk.

“You can just give up now, if you want,” he teases you as you stand up from the couch and the two of you trade places.

“Oh, I think you should be the one to worry about losing,” you warn him grabbing your bag. Stepping to Gemma you whisper into her ear, instructing her to put on your song when you call out from the bathroom, since you are planning on do a grandiose entrance. When she hears what song you’ll be singing she gasps.

“Oh my fucking God, no way!” he looks at your with wide eyes.

“What? What is it?” Harry asks, dying to know what you just told his sister, but you shake your head at him.

“Patience,” you tell him before locking yourself up in the bathroom.

This year, you didn’t find the sweater, the sweater found you. On one of your thrift tours, you were digging up a huge pile of clothes when you came right across it and you knew what you needed to do.

Putting on the sweater you fix up your hair quickly before putting on your party glasses, the one that lights up if you switch it on. You take one last look at yourself in the mirror and smirk at your reflection knowing well you’ll have everyone dead when you walk out.

“Gemma! You can start it!” you call out with your hand on the doorknob, waiting to hear the music. Gemma quickly starts in and you haven’t even stepped out, you can hear a round of gasps.

Best Song Ever blasts through the speakers and you walk out trying your best to imitate a younger version of Harry, wearing the absolute ugliest Christmas sweater ever, that has the faces of One Direction all over it, filling up every inch of the fabric, and all of them have poorly photoshopped Santa hats on, it’s just literal trash and ridiculously perfect for the battle.

You grab the mic and start singing as everyone screams in the room. You jump, sing and even do the dance moves the boys do in the original music video, and when you look at Harry you see him staring at you in disbelief and total defeat. Everyone knows you won, nothing can top this performance ever and you could burst from the sweet feeling of victory.

By the end of the song everyone is up on their feet dancing and singing with you, a mini party forming in the middle of the living room and you all scream the last lines as the song comes to its end.

“I think we don’t even need to vote this time,” you say when the music stops, everyone screaming in agreement while Harry stares down at you, trying to hide his growing smirk.

“Where did you even find this?” he asks chuckling as he takes a better look at the sweater.

“At a thrift store, it called out my name, knew it’d be perfect.”

“It really is ugly, if I’m being honest,” he sighs, his eyes meeting yours again. “And the song… I accept defeat, you earned this victory, Y/N,” he tells you bowing and admitting your victory.

 Later that night everyone is so keen on watching Holiday, you agree to stay even though you feel your eyelids heavily weighing down, threatening to close with each passing moment. You let your head rest on Harry’s shoulder and he presses his cheek against the crown of your head.

It’s not a surprise you fall asleep halfway into the movie, but what you weren’t expecting is to wake up and find yourself not on the couch anymore, but in Harry’s bed. It’s dark, only the moon is shining through his windows and as you turn to the right you see that he is sleeping peacefully next to you on his back, one arm spread next to him, hand hanging from the edge, the other one resting on his stomach, rising and falling in a slow rhythm.

Squinting your eyes you look at the digital clock on his dresser, it reads 3:23 am so you’ve been asleep for quite a few hours now. You don’t even remember him bringing you up here, but you’re definitely not mad that he didn’t bring you home, just up to his room.

Rolling to your side you give yourself a moment to adorn his beauty without fearing he would catch your wandering eyes. Everything seems so perfect about him, the line of his nose, his cupid’s bow that delicately rolls into her lips. The crease between his eyebrows, his soft skin on his cheeks, down his neck that runs into his broad shoulders and inked, strong arms. You truly think there’s no man that could compare to him and you are lucky enough to live your life so close to him, be able to touch him, hear his voice whenever you miss him, see his smile and share a connection with him.

It’s so silly, but you think of him as your personal ray of sunshine in your life. Just the smallest things about him can brighten your worst day, he’ll always have a special place in your heart, no matter where life takes the two of you.

Watching him sleeping you allow yourself to break free from your doubts and fears and scooting closer you shyly curl up to his side, your head resting on his shoulder, but you can’t even make yourself comfortable before you feel him moving under you.

Sucking on your breath you think he’ll push you away, not wanting you so close, but instead, he pulls his arm from under you, curling around your frame as he pulls you tight to him, almost making you lie on top of him. Your whole body is pressed against him and you mingle a leg between his long ones under the soft sheets. You let out a long huff at the warm touch of his body against your skin, completely lost in him.

“You alright?” he mumbles in his sleep laced voice, his eyes remain closed.

“Yeah. Is this okay?” you nervously ask as you lay your hand flat on his stomach. He brings his hand that was hanging from the bed on his other side and covers yours, as he squeezes you tight to his side.

“’M all yours,” he breathes out, his words sending a shiver down your spine. You’re sure he didn’t mean it like that, but it warmed your heart to hear it from him and you let your mind play with the thought that there was more behind his words than a friendly manner.

Nuzzling your head into his chest you close your eyes and listening to his steady heartbeat you let yourself fall back asleep.

 Your morning is filled with coffee, pancakes, laughter and great company. Harry doesn’t let you leave without having breakfast with them, so you sit with the Styles family and laugh about the craziest stories from your teenage years.

“Remember when we tried to run away?” Harry grins at you, his red mug that had white polka dots all over it in his hands as he eyes you.

“Oh, how could I forget that?” you huff and Gemma turns to you with surprise in her eyes.

“Wait, I didn’t know about that!”

“Because we didn’t get too far,” Harry laughs. “We were, what, like fifteen?”

“Yeah, it was a few weeks after my fifteenth birthday,” you nod smiling.

“I had a fight with mum about God knows what, then stormed over to Y/N’s and talked her into running away. So we packed our backpacks and left.”

“Where did you go?” Michal asks with an amused grin as he listens to the story.

“We didn’t want to go into town, running into anyone we know, so we thought we would just go straight out to the meadow that’s there,” Harry says gesturing towards the window. The edge of the town is not so war, and a huge meadow lies there, a little stream running across it. “We walked for quite long, but then it started to get dark and we had nowhere to go, so we just ended up coming back home. No one even noticed we were gone, they thought we just went out to bike or something,” he finishes laughing.

“You knew about this?” Gemma asks Anne.

“Yeah, he came clear the next day, thinking he would piss me off with it, but I didn’t care, he came back for dinner, so it was alright,” Anne explains laughing.

It’s been so long since it happened, but I still remember it vividly, only that it was a more dramatic memory back then, now I can only laugh at it.

“We should go for a walk today,” Harry prompts to you.

“Wanna run away again?” you tease him.

“Always,” he chuckles.

You help cleaning up and agree with Harry to meet outside in an hour to take a walk to the meadow. Going home you take a shower and wash the dishes your mum left in the sink when she left for her morning shift. You put on a pair of boyfriend jeans, a warm sweater and your jacket with your trusty boots and you walk out the house right when Harry steps out as well. He grins in your way as the two of you meet in the middle of the street. He holds his arm out for you.

“M’ lady?” he smirks as you link your arm with his and the two of you head out for your little walk. It’s a gloomy day, might rain later as well, but it’s dry so far, so you’re just hoping to get home before it starts raining. Your runaway attempt wasn’t the only time the two of you came out here, it was kind of your place when you felt like having a break from everyone else. You biked out here, brought your favorite snacks and just ran around, enjoying the stillness.

However it also holds a bitter memory as well.

A little further down among the trees happened Harry’s first kiss and you witnessed it, feeling your heart break to a million pieces when you saw him lock lips with someone who wasn’t you.

Debby Hamilton was a friend of yours in sixth grade, you’d say, your only friend beside Harry and the three of you often hung out together around that time. Debby was a delight, you always desired to be more like her, boys liked her and she knew it damn well, but it didn’t make her cocky and egoistic. You always thought Harry had a crush on her, why would have he? They kind of looked cute together.

It was a Friday afternoon and Harry asked if you wanted to come out and listen to his new cassette he got for his old Walkman he refused to get rid of as technology was evolving. You figured he’d want Debby there as well so you invited her along, but didn’t tell Harry. He never made a move on Debby and you thought he was just looking for the right time.

That afternoon, you were supposed to meet them out there at five, but you didn’t leave until half past five and it takes about twenty minutes to get out there. Though you gave them the alone time technically, it still startled you when you found them under one of the oak trees, Debby leaning her back against the tree as Harry stood in front of her. She was smiling up at him sweetly, saying something to him and you were just about to call out for them and apologize for being late when Harry ducked his head and kissed Debby right in front of your eyes.

That was your first and probably worst heartbreak and you were only twelve. You felt betrayed, hopeless and naïve to think Harry would ever have a thing for you when there were girls like Debby. You left without letting them know you were there. When Harry asked you later why you didn’t come you told him you felt sick to your stomach, which wasn’t a total lie, you had quite the nausea after seeing Harry with Debby, but he didn’t have to know all the details.

He later told you about kissing Debby and you pretended like you didn’t know about it. However they never dated and not long after their kiss Debby drifted away from the two of you. Not that you minded, you had a bitter feeling every time you had to look at her after that, jealousy raging in your chest knowing that she got Harry’s first kiss.

He didn’t bring it up after and you weren’t keen on talking about it, but you still know which tree they were standing under and now as you near the area you see that it still stands tall near the tiny stream.

Peeking up at Harry you see that his eyes are focused on the same tree, but then he catches you looking.

“Memories?” you innocently ask, feeling your chest tightening. You don’t even know why you asked. It’s been over a decade since that kiss, you are both adults, but you still can’t help the sadness that washes over you at just the thought, why would you want to get him talk about it now?

“’S just… that’s the tree I kissed Debby when I was twelve,” he mumbles with a shrug. Biting into your bottom lip you look at the old oak tree nodding your head and before you could stop yourself, you speak up.

“I know.”

“What? How would you? I never told you,” Harry asks stopping, a puzzled look pulling on his face.

“Well I… It doesn’t matter,” you sigh, regretting ever opening your mouth.

“It does. Tell me!” he pleads standing in front of you.

“I know it, because… I was here.”

“You what?”

“I came, I was just very late. And when I arrived you two were standing there and I saw you kiss. I thought I shouldn’t interrupt whatever was happening so I went home and let you two be,” you explain, changing it up a little bit.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why is it important that I saw it? It doesn’t change anything, right?” you ask with a smile that you intended to look innocent, but deep down it’s filled with pain.

Harry opens his mouth as if he wants to say something, but then remains silent and you are done talking about it, so you just quietly keep walking, Harry catching up with you a few moments later.

It’s awfully quiet after your revelation, it seems like Harry is deep in his thoughts and though you’re dying to know what’s occupying his bright thoughts, you’re kind of afraid you’d hear something you didn’t want to.

The two of you soon head back home and slowly, but you forget about the whole Debby thing. Harry starts talking again, but he looks a little keyed up still when you reach your street.

“Wanna come over later?” you ask standing on the pavement in front of your house, it’s just an innocent question. Harry nods his head.

“Sure. Is your mum working?” he asks glancing at the house, though he knows she is, the car is not on the driveway.

“Yeah. She’ll be home around six.”

He nods again and you want to ask if he is alright, but you decide not to. You share a quick hug before he heads over to his home and you do the same. The house waits for you in silence and when the door clicks behind you, it weighs down on you heavier than you were expecting. You hang your jacket, kick your boots off and throw yourself to the couch, covering your eyes with your arm as you huff out in frustration. You feel silly for getting upset about such a small thing even after so much time, but you just can’t help it.

You barely realize the sound of the front door opening, taking your arm off your eyes you see Harry walk in, eyebrows furrowed, a worried look on his handsome face.

“Harry—“ “I was waiting for you that day,” he simply says as you sit up with wide eyes, confused about what he is really talking about.

“What?”

“That day, we agreed to meet out there to listen to my new Stevie Wonder cassette, but you didn’t show up, Debby did even though I didn’t invite her out there.”

“Well, I did, thought you wanted her there too,” you explain, startled by the situation.

“I would have invited her if I wanted her to be there, but I wanted to be with you. Only you.”

“I-I’m sorry?” you breathe out, not seeing where he is going with it.

“Y/N, you don’t understand,” he huffs and he is right. You don’t. “I wanted to meet you, but you never came, or at least I thought. Then Debby showed up, I was frustrated that you weren’t there and she was being all nice, telling me how cute I looked when I was worried and it all just happened so fast and… I didn’t even want to kiss her.” He looks properly upset telling you the story and he takes a deep breath before his eyes meet yours with a hard stare. “I wanted to be with you,” he repeats.

“Harry, I’m sorry, I didn’t—“

He shakes his hair, not even letting you finish, because he knows what you wanted to say and that you still don’t understand the meaning behind his words.

“Y/N, I wanted to kiss you,” he then finally says and you suck on your breath as he continues. “Well, not right then and there, but I’ve been meaning to kiss you, I just didn’t know when. I thought that if we have a moment that afternoon I’d do it, but you never came and I was mad and disappointed. I hated myself for kissing Debby, because I didn’t really want to, it just… happened. I wanted to tell you, and I intended to do it when I told you we kissed, but you acted so happy, I figured you didn’t feel the same way about me as I did for you. So I didn’t tell you the rest, but…” He sighs in defeat, looking for words, but he ran out.

“Why are you telling this to me now?” you ask a little out of breath, your head feeling heavy at the new information you just heard.

“Why didn’t you tell me you saw us and why did you go home without a word?” he asks ignoring your question.

“I… don’t—“

“Don’t try to lie.”

Gulping hard you lick your dried lips as you stare back at him.

“Because I was… jealous.” Your voice comes out only as a whisper. Harry’s lips part as he takes two steps closer to you.

“You had feelings for me?” he asks and you just nod your head, not trusting yourself with your voice. “Do you still have feelings for me?”

“I do,” you whisper your answer and Harry lets out a sharp breath as he leaps across the room in your way. You jump to your feet, thinking that he’ll lash out on your for keeping it a secret and you open your mouth to explain yourself, but you never get to speak up because as Harry reaches you, one hand snaps to the back of your neck, the other one to your waist, yanking you against him as his lips crash to yours.

You gasp in surprise, but it doesn’t take long to kiss him back, your numb mind blindly reacting to his sudden action. Your hands snake up to the back of his neck as you pull him closer, returning his hungry kisses. His soft lips feel so smooth and warm against yours and when his tongue runs along your bottom lip you whimper letting your tongues meet in the middle.

He is intoxicating and it doesn’t help that your adrenaline level is up in the sky, you’ve fantasized about it way too many times, and now that it’s happening your body is burning in flames. He kisses you all over and over again, his body pressing against yours hard and when he even leans in making you lean back, you lose balance and the two of you fall to the couch, both of you gasping as you are forced to part your lips.

“Fuck,” you chuckle as Harry is basically lying on you, holding himself up on his arms, but you feel him everywhere.

“’M sorry, I got a little carried away, but I’ve been dying to do this since forever,” he admits chuckling as he lifts his head and looks down at you with those bright green eyes of his.

“Really?” you breathe out, only slowly processing what’s really just happened.

“Y/N, I’ve been in love with you since I first saw you hiding behind your mum.”

“Idiot, you were just a kid, you weren’t in love,” you chuckle, running up your hands to the back of his neck, your fingers playing with the soft curls. He smirks and nuzzles his nose against yours.

“Oh, I was, I just didn’t know it yet.” Leaning down he pecks your lips softly. “I’ve been meaning to tell you so many times, but I didn’t want it to ruin our friendship. Though I was growing impatient these last few years.”

“Yeah?” you chuckle.

“You can’t imagine,” he huffs shaking his head. I almost kissed you the other day in the kitchen, but Gemma completely ruined the moment.”

“I’m sorry I ran away, I was just—“ “No need to apologize. I guess it all played out well after all, right?” he smirks and you can’t help but chuckle.

“I guess,” you breathe out and the smile slowly fades from your lips. “And now what?” you ask quietly, staring up at him.

“Now… We’ll try to make things work. Test the waters. I’m very serious about this, Y/N,” he tells you. “I’ve been waiting for this my whole life so I’m not gonna let go of you now.”

“You have no idea how happy this is making me,” you choke out feeling the tears forming in your eyes.

“Oh Love, please don’t cry,” he begs and leaning down he kisses your tears away. “I’m right here, with you. Sorry it took me so long you get here, but I’m here now.”

“I know,” you huff blinking away the tears as you pull him down and press your lips to his. “I love you, Harry,” you whisper against his perfect lips. You feel him exhale sharply as he keeps kissing you before he lifts his head so your eyes meet again.

“I’ve always loved you.”

 Thank you for reading, let me know what you thought about it!

[dracossweetprincess]

hii, can i order one wherever the reader's birthday is, and Draco gives him presents and things like that, and at the end of the day they fuck? make it fluff but also smut, thanks in advance🤍

spoiled | d.m

dracoxfem.reader

request: yes/no

preview: it’s y/n’s birthday, and draco plans to spoil her rotten.

warnings: draco being a simp for his gf, draco being a softie, SMUT (+18), fluffy smut, praising kink, vaginal fingering, oral (female receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex (don’t do that).

Since Draco found out what day Y/n’s birthday was, he had been planning that whole day since the moment they started dating. This was Y/n’s first birthday with Draco. She did expect Draco to spoil her a little bit, maybe get her some chocolates and flowers, but she had absolutely no idea what Draco had planned for the day.

Y/n slept soundly beside him, as they were staying at the Malfoy Manor for the holidays. Draco woke up with the sun hitting his pale face, slowly opening his eyes and stretching his arms. He smiled to himself remembering what day it was, wanting to give Y/n a birthday to remember. He turned around, rolling on top of her and starting to shower her face with kisses.

On her cheeks, on the tip of her nose, on her eyelids, in her forehead and finally on her lips. Y/n’s eyes fluttered open, as she smirked at the way Draco was treating her so lovingly. “Good morning, gorgeous.” Draco smiled down at her, leaning down to press another kiss to the tip of her nose as she scrunched it slightly, making Draco chuckle. “Happy birthday.”

“Good morning, Dray.” She let out a soft yawn, gently rolling Draco off of her and sitting up. “Today is your birthday and I’m spoiling you rotten, darling.” Draco smirked, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her on his lap. “Oh yeah?” She whispered in his year, pressing a kiss behind it sending shivers down Draco’s spine.

“Yes, but first I need you to wait downstairs.” Y/n scrunched her eyebrows, trying to figure out what Draco was up to but nodded in agreement jogging downstairs. She waited on the couch reading a book, when she felt Draco wrap his arms around her from behind. “Come on, pretty girl.” She chuckled, following him upstairs towards his room again.

The pair walked into Draco’s room, Y/n looking around to be met with about twenty different gifts spread all over his room. “Draco, what’s all this? It isn’t Christmas.” She asked a little in shock. “Presents.” Draco chuckled, wrapping his arms around her from behind and tucking his face on her shoulder. “Are all these from you?” Y/n asked, slightly worried. As much as all these gifts were nice, Y/n didn’t like it that Draco spent so much money on her.

“Yup.” He smiled proudly, as he absolutely loved buying her gifts. The smile on her face always made his heart swell, so he never exited to buy everything the girl looked at for more then five seconds when they were window shopping in Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley. “Draco! This must have cost a lot of money, I don’t want you spending so much money on me like that!” She scolded him.

“But why can’t I?” He whined like a little kid. “I need to spoil my baby.” He smiled, pressing a sweet kiss to her cheek. Y/n sighed, considering herself defeated and opened all of the gifts. The gifts were things like perfumes, flowers, chocolates, clothes, and her absolute favorite was a soft dark green sweater that had the words “Draco Malfoy’s property” sewed on it.

The pair ended up cuddling in Draco’s bed again, until lunch time. Y/n starting to feel hungry. “Alright, let’s go back downstairs and see what we can make for lunch.” She got up, but Draco grabbed her arm making her turn around again. “What? No! Let’s go to my mom’s tulip garden, I have a picnic ready, I’ve been planning it for weeks.” Y/n’s heart swelled at the sweet gesture.

“Wait, really?”

“Of course, angel.” They walked towards Narcissa’s beautiful tulip garden, hand in hand. It was possibly the most beautiful garden Y/n had ever seen, and it was definitely her favorite part of the Manor. Y/n gasped as they got closer to the picnic, seeing a blanket spread on the grass with a variety of her favorite foods. Spaghetti, brownies, cookies and pink lemonade. “Do you like it?” Draco asked, pleased with himself for being able to put a smile on her face.

“Like it? Draco I love it.” She hugged him around the waist. “I’m glad, love.” They both sat down, Y/n resting her head on Draco’s lap letting him feed her and play with her hair after a little fight over how she could feed herself. Feeling the sun hit her face, making it hard to keep her eyes open and the soft breeze making her hair slightly messy.

They walked back to the Manor, Draco going to take a shower. He walked out of the bathroom, towel around his waist and wet hair. Y/n didn’t even notice, but she was staring. “Take a picture it’ll last longer.” He smirked, leaning against the bathroom door. “Like what you see, darling?” Draco let the towel fall to the floor, now standing completely naked in front of the girl making her gasp.

“Draco!” She hid her face on her pillow, trying to hide the fact that she was blushing madly. “Time for your last gift, darling. And since today’s about you, you get to choose whatever you want me to do to you.” He smirked, getting on top of Y/n and pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “I want your fingers, I want your mouth and I want your cock.”

“Mmm my greedy girl wants it all? Huh?” Y/n nodded, already feeling herself get wet at the thought of the activities that were about to happen. “Alright, darling. Just because it’s your birthday I’ll give you what you want.” Draco slowly unbuttoned her silky pijama top, groaning at the sight of her breasts already on display for him.

He pushed her bottoms down her legs, while massaging her breasts as the girl moaned quietly into his shoulder. Y/n shuddered feeling his breath over her sopping cunt, as Draco slid his index finger through her folds, spreading her wetness and bringing his finger into his mouth, sucking it clean. “You taste so good, darling.”

Without warning Draco slid through fingers in her cunt, immediately starting to pump them in and out at a fast pace. Draco rubbed circles on her clit, his fingers still reveling in her tightness. “Dray fuck! It feels so good.” She moaned. “Good girl.” He let out and added a third one. Draco continued continuously pumping roughly into her tight hole, placing kisses all over her, shoulders and breasts while she bucked against his hand trying to get more friction.

Y/n closed her eyes, focusing on the pleasure of the coil in her stomach as all she could think about were her boyfriend’s fingers fucking into her. “Draco, fuck!” She cried, as she started to come undone coating his fingers. Draco didn’t waist a second to pull his fingers from her cunt, and suck them clean again, not letting a drop go to waste. “Good job, love. You did so good. Now spread your legs so I can ruin you.”

Y/n was still in her aftershock, but obeyed spreading her legs wide giving him a clear view of her swollen pussy. “I want you to fuck my pussy. Want you to ruin me.” Y/n let out calmly, Draco’s eyes darkening at her words. Draco pumped his length in his hand, pushing inside of her without hesitation. Giving her a few seconds to adjust, he started thrusting hard and fast, the girl’s moans growing louder.

Draco moaned into her neck, the feeling of her clenching walls around him being heavenly. Draco was hitting every sweet spot inside of her, making the girl throw her head back at the waves of pleasure that hit her like a train. Draco wrapped his lips around one of her nipples, lapping his tongue and sucking on it, Y/n almost letting out a scream at the intense pleasure.

Y/n was moaning hard, bucking her hips rhythmically trying to get him deeper inside of her. One of Draco’s hands flew up to her hard nipple and began roughly massaging it again. Draco’s cock moving against her tight walls with delicious friction. Y/n tossed her head back against the pillow, closing her eyes as he fucked her harder and harder. Her walls tightened around him, and Draco felt like he might break, pumping frantically inside her.

Y/n let out a scream of pleasure, that was muffled by her pillow, drowning Draco’s cock in her cum. Y/n felt Draco twitch inside her, and fill her up to the brim with a final rough thrust. Draco pulled out, cleaning himself up and turning to the girl that still lied down on his bed, completely naked, legs spread only for him, like a slut. His slut. “How about I get you to that third orgasm? Would you like that, my slutty princess?”

“Yes, Dray. Want your mouth.” Draco went to work, burying his face in between her legs as his tongue lapped up the taste of hers and his cum. Draco licked long stripes up her slit at first, before sucking on her clit, harshly, in the motions he knew would make her fall apart. “Feels good, Dray. S’good.” Draco smirked against her pussy, Y/n bucking her hips up wanting him to get back to work.

Tears pricked her eyes, as it just felt too good. “Fuck, Draco! Fuck, fuck, fuck. Gonna cum. M’ gonna cum.” Y/n squirted on his face, Draco letting out a satisfied groan as he licked her clean, Y/n whining realizing just how overstimulated she was. Draco pressed a sweet kiss to her lips, walking to the bathroom to get a cloth to clean her up, and pull her into his naked chest. Legs entangled, Y/n let out a satisfied sigh, starting to feel relaxed.

“Happy birthday, darling. I love you.”

[eartht137]

DEAREST HEART-LETTER TWO

Whooo, goodness!! I spooked myself after writing the first letter. There is a dog next door to my house and she likes to stare out towards the back "alley way" and one night while I was showering by candlelight (blinds still aren't fixed) she wouldn't stop staring out at the alley way. My azz was spooked lol. That being said, here is another "letter" from Mr. Kal El himself. Enjoy curvies MMMMMMwwwaahhhhhhh!!!!

Dark Clark Kent x Plus Size Reader

Warnings: Stalking (This chapter is pretty tame)

A few days later, the whole situation had hidden itself in your brain. You had so much going on in your waking life, you really didn't have time to dwell on a possible prank. Your birthday had arrived and you really weren't feeling too thrilled about it. Your depression just had to spike up and ruin the one day you thought you would enjoy, but you didn't even get to stress about it for long. You'd stepped into your office to boot up your computer for the day, and you saw it. On your desk was a letter, same vintage parchment, but his time it had an Aster instead of a Rose. You stared at it for so long, wondering if you should read it or not. You finally sat down and pulled the letter out of the envelope to see what he had to say.

Happy Birthday Little One,

I wish so badly that I could show you the best birthday you've ever had, but that will have to wait. I know you're not looking forward to today. I've noticed you haven't mentioned it much, and you almost forgot. How do you forget your birthday silly girl? I have purchased a gift every year since we met, I can't wait until I'm able to give them to you and you can unwrap each and everyone as if it were Christmas. Why haven't you planned anything? Not even a free day for yourself, what's going on? I wish you would talk to me. I want so badly to help you get better, but its a one day at a time deal. I was there you know, when you almost died? I was there the night you called your husband and told him the truth about how bad you felt. I swear it was the scariest night of my life when the surgeon walked in and told you they were putting you in an induced state for a week. All I could think was, what if you didn't wake up, or what if they did something wrong? What if they hurt you more or caused a bad reaction. I have seen a lot of things, but I have never been so sad and afraid to lose someone like you. I watched over you every night, making sure you'd come back to me and the baby. Well, you know what I mean. I know that's been rough on you, but you are making great progress. I remember you saying you'd like to change your hair, would you like for me to set up your appointment? I think you'd look delicious with cherry red hair, just don't cut it please. I love your hair. I love everything about you. I know you don't remember, but the moment our eyes met, I couldn't get you out of my head. I tried, I swear I tried so hard to stay away. I'd go for walks at night to clear my head and try not to think of you, and I'd find myself further and further away from home. It has to be fate that wants us together, because there you were, pulling in from work one night. I watched you sit there blaring your music, trying to finish the song before you went inside. I knew you right away, I had never been so....I can't describe how it felt, it was overwhelming. It had to be love that outweighed the hurt, even your "husband" walked out to greet you, it just couldn't overshadow what my heart felt. I told myself that I loved you enough to let you be happy, and I did for awhile. Not one day or night went by where you didn't cross my mind, so I decided to whisk by and take a picture of you, just for memory of the woman I couldn't have. One picture turned to two, two turned to ten. I had to get the perfect angle, but the only perfect angle is up close, in person; like I said I did try. I wish I could take you out for your birthday. I'd cook for us and we'd go down by the river, or I could take you somewhere 5 star. I know its really not your thing, but you deserve to be served like a queen. You are a queen to me. I dreamed about you, I dream about you all the time, but this one was different. It scared me so much, I woke in cold sweat. I can't bear to think about it now, but I know it was just a stupid dream. I will have to go out of the country for awhile, but I promise to still write as often as I can. I love you, so much.

With All My Heart and Soul,

Kal-El

"Babe!!! Babe, I need to tell you something." You said scared senseless. You rushed to your husband, showing him the letters and explained that you thought it was a sick prank. Your husband immediately called the police. He packed you all up and as much as he hated it, you all went to stay with your mom.

That night while you were up talking to your mom, she leaned back and asked you something insane.

"Is that really another man's baby?" she asked seriously.

"NO! I don't even know who this is, I swear I don't know a Kal-El. I've never met anyone like that in all my life." You whisper screamed at her as you struggled to hold back tears. She stared into your eyes for a moment before sighing heavily. Before you knew it she was crying and hugging your neck so tight you couldn't breathe.

"After all you've been through, this was the last thing you needed. I've always told you to be careful and watch your surroundings." She fussed.

"Ma I did, but I don't ever go anywhere. I stay in the house most of the time and I'm always with my family." You couldn't help but feel as if you were being attacked.

"You never know who is watching you." She argued back.

"Ma, look at me." You said standing back opening your arms to show your full body. "All these years I've worked hard to feel comfortable in my own skin. It took me a long time to feel fully comfortable around my own husband. All of these years you guys have trashed me for my weight, the times you all have told me that I get different treatment for my size, there was no way in this world I could've ever imagined that I would get stalked by-by this Kal-El fucker!" You yelled as tears flowed down your face, you could even feel your face strain in anger. "Now this is happening, and I should've been watching my surroundings. You drilled in my head for years that people looked past me for you and everyone else. You drilled in my head that people would only want me to use me, YOU DRILLED IN MY HEAD THAT I NEVER HAD THE LOOK TO MAKE IT OUT HERE, SO NOW HERE WE ARE WITH A MANIAC THAT SOMEHOW MANAGED TO FIND ME THAT I DON'T EVEN KNOW OR HAVE ANY CLUE AS TO WHAT THIS GUY LOOKS LIKE AND I SHOULD'VE BEEN WATCHING MY SURROUNDINGS!?" Your head felt like it was on fire, then all at once stars appeared and you lost vision.

When you woke up you were laying on the floor with a jacket under your neck as your mom and family (that she had called) stood around trying to get you to come back to. You tried sitting up, but only felt dizzier. Your hands and feet felt numb and you were shaking as sweat poured off of your body. Your husband sat by you, fanning you and giving you water. When you began to feel better, he helped you up and over to the couch. He asked everyone to leave you alone and not upset you anymore.

"Baby what do you want to do? How can I make you feel safe?" Your husband asked.

You stared deep in his eyes and remembered why you loved him so much. He always went out of his way to make sure you were happy. You thought back to not so pleasant days when you both argued and said mean things and your realized then and there how much you took him for granted sometimes. Before you knew it the flood gates released and you sobbed.

"Can you just hold me please?" You asked in a small pitiful voice.

"I will always hold you and be there for you baby. I love you. We will get through this together, like we always do."

[annabethy]

under the mistletoe, watching the fire glow day 14: neighbor

Character A can’t travel to see their family on Christmas, so they invite their grumpy loner neighbor Character B,, percabeth, mildly suggestive

Percy’s heart drops as he stares at the screen in front of him. He doesn’t even bother reading beyond the words that tells him his flight is cancelled. It feels like forever that he’s staring at that screen, the feeling of sadness beginning to become overwhelming.

He doesn’t know that he’s ever been apart from his mom for Christmas in his entire twenty-two years of life. It’s the one time a year that he drops everything to see his family, but now the icy roads are stopping flow into the airports all around the city, and he’s sure that this Christmas is ruined.

Percy actually feels like crying as he shoves on a sweater and makes his way back onto his couch to call his mom. He hasn’t seen her in forever, and this was the only chance for him to see her for the foreseeable future. It’s a quick conversation with her reassuring him that she understands and will miss him. She teases him about being a mommy’s boy, and he can’t even argue because he really is.

He wipes a silent tear that falls from his face as he tells her, “I miss you.”

His mom, of course, never one to have shame, tells him, “You still have friends there. Why don’t you ask them over, so you don’t have to be alone?”

“They’re all home for Christmas.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. What about your neighbor?”

Percy scoffs playfully, knowing exactly where this is going. “What about my neighbor?”

“She’s cute.”

“I’m pretty sure she also wants me to die.”

“Then this is the perfect time to warm her up! Invite her over. I’m sure she’s not as bad as you think. Just don’t give me any grandkids quite yet.”

“Mom.”

She laughs over the phone. “Do what you want, baby, but it won’t hurt to ask her. I know she doesn’t have anywhere to go.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he dismisses. “I’ll think about it.”

“Do it for your mother,” Sally says. “I have to go now, okay? I love you.”

Percy swallows. “I love you too, momma.”

When the line clicks off, he feels so alone once again. He ends up turning on a random movie, but he doesn’t watch it, instead contemplating what he should do. He comes to the conclusion that there’s really nothing he can do because if he walks even two steps outside, he’s probably going to freeze to death. It confines him to his apartment building, where he knows actually no one besides his neighbor who doesn’t like him.

Okay. So he doesn’t actually know that she doesn’t like him, but he highly suspects it. He’s only spoken to her once, but it wasn’t a very pleasant conversation. It was more along the lines of can you shut the fuck up it’s three in the morning on her end, and then him saying I’m sorry, I just tripped and took down an entire table, and then she just kind of glared at him with her terrifying piercing grey eyes.

So yeah. It’s safe to say she doesn’t like him.

Still, he begins to think that she’s probably alone too. From the things he’s heard about her, especially from his mom who somehow managed to have a whole conversation with his neighbor the last time she visited, she has no family to go home to. Or maybe she did, but she wasn’t on good enough terms to return, or she just didn’t want to. Either way, she was alone, and Percy is a firm believer that no one should be alone on Christmas.

That’s how Percy finds himself standing outside of her apartment door, wondering if he’s actually about to invite someone who’s practically a stranger into his home. Apparently, he is.

Percy knocks gently twice before stepping back. The hallways are cold despite being inside, so he hugs himself as he waits. He’s sure he looks like a mess in his sweater and red sweatpants, so he’s a little self-conscious, but then he remembers that she doesn’t like him, and he has nothing to prove.

The door swings open abruptly, and Percy is met with Annabeth standing there, face unreadable. She’s looking at him expectantly, peeking out into the hall beyond him. When she finds no one else there, she looks back to him.

“Hi,” she says. “Did you need something?”

Percy shifts his feet, eyeing her sweater with snowflakes printed on it. He hadn’t expected her to enjoy festive clothes. “No, not really. I like the sweater by the way.”

“Thanks. So what did you need?”

“Nothing.”

Annabeth bites her lower lip. “Okay. Why are you standing outside my door then?”

“Oh. Right. Sorry, I forgot.”

She laughs hesitantly. “It’s fine. Just tell me what it is you came to tell me.”

“I was actually going to ask if you wanted to come over,” he says, pointing over his shoulder. “My flight was cancelled, and I didn’t want to be alone.”

“So you just assumed I had nothing better to do?”

Percy pauses. “Wait, no. I just heard that you were here for Christmas, and I thought you might want to do something so you’re not alone either.”

“What makes you think I would want to hang out with you?”

Percy is slightly offended. “I didn’t see why you wouldn’t. Did I do something?”

“No.”

“Then I don’t understand.”

“I just want to know why you’re asking me now, Percy.”

“You know my name?”

“We’ve only been living next to each other for two years,” she says.

“Right. Well, the honest answer is that my flight is cancelled, and my mom suggested I ask you to come over because you’re cute.” After that, Percy highly expects her to slam the door in his face because that’s just the way she is. Instead, she smiles and leans against the door.

“Your mom suggested you ask me out?”

“And hinted that we would be having sex if you must know. Which will not be happening.”

“Bummer,” she says, tilting her head. “If I do come, what would we do then?”

“We can watch movies or make cookies if you want. Whatever you want.”

“And if I want to have super hot Christmas sex?” From the tone of her voice, she is very obviously kidding.

“Then it’s a good thing neither of us are going to see family, isn’t it?” Percy says playfully back. “But seriously, are you coming?”

“Yeah, sure. Just give me a second.”

Percy waits for her outside as she heads back inside her apartment. It’s only a minute before she’s back out and locking her door as he leads her to his own apartment. The first step inside immediately warms him, and he thanks every god that exists that he managed to snag a heater for the living room.

Annabeth stands by the couch as she turns to him. “You promised me Christmas cookies?”

“Is that what you want?”

“I’d prefer it to a movie.”

Percy smiles, and he’s starting to think that maybe they’ll get along better than he initially thought. They stand in the kitchen as Percy grabs a random container of dough. He pulls out a bunch of candy and icing from last week when him and his friends made gingerbread houses, and Annabeth grabs them from his hand to examine them before setting them on the counter.

He preheats the oven before going to stand next to her again. “You ready to make the best cookies you’ve had in your entire life?” She grins. “It’s on.”

The next hour is spent with them competing over who can make the ugliest cookie. Percy has to admit that hers takes the lead with the biggest blobs on icing falling all over his counter.

She’s a lot easier to get along with than he initially thought. She laughs and smiles with him, and shoves his cookie into his face, smearing the frosting and sprinkles everywhere, and he doesn’t think he’s ever had this much fun before. He’s able to forget that he’s not with his mom because Annabeth is something else in itself. He doesn’t know how he hasn’t ever invited her out because she is practically his best friend already.

“Annabeth,” he chastises when she takes a bite out of his cookie.

“It tastes awful,” she says through the mouthful of sugar.

Percy’s stomach flutters. There’s a smudge of frosting on the corner of her mouth, and he has to resist wiping it away. He takes a bite himself and shoots her a look. “Liar.”

She just gives him a sweet smile.

“So,” she says, leaning against the counter, cookies now forgotten. “Why couldn’t you go home for Christmas?”

“The airports are all closed,” he tells her, shrugging. “But it’s okay. I’m having fun.”

“Still. It must suck to not be able to see your family.”

“But what about you? You don’t get to see your family.”

Annabeth stiffens, and Percy realizes he’s overstepped.

“I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer that.”

“It’s fine. I just don’t really get along with my family, so. I just stay by myself for most holidays.”

“You’re welcome to spend holidays with me then,” he offers.

“As kind as that is, you just met me today. I don’t think your family would react well to bringing home your neighbor that was an ‘asshole to you for no reason.’”

Percy pauses.

“I’m not stupid. I’ve heard what you told other people.”

He doesn’t know what to say. He can’t deny it because he really did say it, but he wouldn’t have if he knew that she would hear him. “I don’t think it’s true.”

“You still said it.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

She shrugs, humor in his eyes. It dawns on him that she finds making him feel guilty funny. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I promise I don’t think that.” He struggles to find words. “I actually really like you. This has been fun, and I don’t want you to think I haven’t enjoyed every minute with you because I have.”

She smirks. “So you don’t think that I’m an ass anymore?”

“I mean. A little bit, but it’s only because you just ate my fucking cookie.”

“It was a good cookie.”

“So you were lying!” he accuses.

“I wanted to win the competition!”

Percy smiles. “Then you win! I forfeit.”

“Forfeit? For me?”

“Of course. I was always taught to let the pretty girl win.”

“Pretty girl, huh?”

“Well, you are.”

“So you invited me over because I’m pretty? Not because you didn’t want to be alone?”

“I invited you over because my mommy told me to.”

“Your mommy also told you to flip me over and have your way with me.”

Percy chokes. “I promise my mom did not say that.”

“The point is you listened to her about everything else, and you told me we could do whatever I wanted.”

Percy can’t tell if she’s messing with him, so he keeps his cool exterior even though he’s combusted inside already. “And what you want is… a Christmas sex session?”

“You’re not the only one that’s cute.”

“Well now I want to kiss you.”

Annabeth raises an eyebrow. “Then do it.”

And he does.

He tugs her in close and kisses her hard. His brain stops functioning, and all he can think of is how he hasn’t done this before. It feels right, and it’s insane to think that she’s been living across the hall for the past two years when they could’ve been doing this. He threads his fingers in her hair, and she bites his bottom lip and lets out a whimper that makes his heart stop.

As Percy deepens the kiss and Annabeth tugs on the hem of his shirt until he pulls it off, he thinks that this Christmas might actually be the best one yet. He may not be with his mom, but it sure feels like he’s building something permanent with his hot next-door neighbor, and he wouldn’t change a thing.

He’s going to stop thinking of his mom now because this pretty girl in front of him nips at his jaw, and he thinks he knows where this is about to go.

It surely is a Merry Christmas.

[combat-wombatus]

Hot Cocoa

Pairing: Iida Tenya x gn!reader

Warnings: brief cursing (mostly just bakugou being bakugou), some suggestive humor (m*neta is involved too)

Genre: fluff (a lil bit of crack bc why not)

WC: a bit over 8k? went slightly overboard with this idea and not entirely happy with the ending but i already rewrote it like 5 times so it is what it is-

(A/N): heya! so this is my first fic and i was kinda nervous about posting it...

it started out as an idea on @todorkihoe’s discord server but then it evolved into this monstrous nightmare so...it took me like a whole week to hash everything out and the logistics of the secret santa thing was an absolute nightmare. but it was worth it!!

It was the holiday season. Most people were taking time off of work to hang out with their friends and family. You had wanted nothing more than to relax in your hot tub with a glass of sparkling cranberry juice and scrumptious holiday cookies, but being a pro-hero meant sacrifices.

You were signed on as a sidekick in the UA Hero Agency’s Tokyo branch. The UA Hero Agency was exactly that: a hero agency formed by the most illustrious graduating class at UA. Not everyone from their class eventually went into the agency, but they were a large agency, with around 36 pro-heroes working full-time. This meant that they had several branches. You, a recent graduate from UA, knew these heroes who were a year above you at UA. They were special. When you started at UA, there were already whispers about “the Class of Legends”. Every single person who graduated the year after had been through enormous trauma during their years at UA. You thought that they were true heroes: strong, unbending even in the face of overwhelming adversity. They were only in their first year when they had been attacked by villains: twice. One of them had even been kidnapped. You couldn’t even begin to fathom how hard they must have worked to get to where they were today. They were resilient, and it showed. The UA Hero Agency is now one of the top Hero Agencies in not only Japan, but also the world. In fact, with their combined power, you wouldn’t be surprised if they happened to make an international branch. You knew that some of the heroes at your agency, Can’t Stop Sparkling and Pony, wanted to start something overseas but didn’t yet have the manpower to make it happen. You were sure that within a few years, their ranks bolstered by new graduates, they would take UA to the international stage.

So it was Christmas Eve. Even though you wanted the chance to chill out at home with some relaxing instrumental jazz and freshly baked sweets, you were out patrolling Tokyo’s vibrant shopping sector instead, on the lookout for villains who wished to ruin everyone else’s holiday fun. The mall was abuzz with shoppers, some hanging out in the verandas with cup of hot cocoa in their hands, others hurrying through, their arms loaded with shopping bags, searching for last-minute gifts they had previously forgotten to purchase. It was definitely not the worst patrol ever. The cozy atmosphere almost had you sighing in contentment, before you heard a voice shout, “thief!”

Of course a villain had to ruin the fun. They had a tendency to do that. You weren’t very comfortable using your quirk in such a loud, crowded area, but you bet that you could catch a small-time shoplifter without it anyways. You raced through the crowd, tracing the voice that had called out moments earlier. You saw a tuft of orange hair weaving unnaturally through the crowd of shoppers, and sprinted forwards, your eyes locked on the target. You followed the path they had created unknowingly for you, trying not to draw attention to yourself. It would only slow you down and light a fire under the criminal, which was exactly what you didn’t need.

Within moments, you caught up to them. Sneaking up behind them, you snatched their wrist and smacked your quirk-suppressing cuffs on it.

“Fuck!” He swore. How did he get caught so quickly? He could have sworn that there was no one chasing him. Pesky heroes. Relying on the comparative lack of heroes patrolling during the holidays, as well as the customary holiday shopping rush, was a sound strategy. He had done the same in previous years without getting caught. If only that damned, nosy civilian hadn’t shouted…

“Please do not resist arrest. It will be easier for all parties involved. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say may be used against you in a court of law. There are eyewitnesses to your crime. Please drop your bags and hold out your other wrist.” You said calmly. You had a beautiful voice. It was calming and had a lilt to it that was a byproduct of your quirk. The villain did as you said, knowing that there would be no escape.

You sighed. Pressing a button on the comms situated in your ear, you reported the situation back to your office. You then called the nearest detective station and waited until their patrol car got here so you could hand the man over. Glancing at your watch, you realized your patrol was almost over. You did one last sweep of the premises, then headed back to the agency.

Today, the agency was the emptiest you had ever seen it. It was a large building, with 20 above-ground floors. In fact, it was essentially a mini-city. There was a heated indoor pool, a sauna, an elite gym that would make fitness junkies drool, a massage and spa, three verandas, and a rooftop greenhouse. It had a café reminiscent of the UA cafeteria, and all types of cuisines were available. In fact, Lunch Rush’s niece was working in the café, and the food was always heavenly. Sometimes, heroes from other agencies would drop off at the UA Hero Agency just for a bite of food after a long patrol. It was the unofficial headquarters of all the hero agencies in Japan, and it certainly lived up to its reputation.

Thinking about the café, you were suddenly hungry for some pad thai. Arriving at the door, you dropped off your comms and cloak at the door to your office and headed down to the café for some food.

“(Y/N)!!! You’re back!” Your friend squealed.

“Yeah Mina, just got off of patrol. Arrested this shoplifter trying to take advantage of the holiday chaos.” Spying her coat in her hands, you realized she was on her way out.

“Cool! You’re always so efficient with your arrests. Anyhow, I’m going to head home. My parents and I are getting some dinner together. I’ll be back for the party, yeah? Don’t open any presents without me!” Mina waved, a grin on her face. You assured her that you would make sure everyone waited for her to celebrate. You wanted to see your parents too, but they were currently on an international tour. They were famous singers, pioneers of a new genre of music. It was a sort of lullaby, but it wasn’t meant to put people to sleep. It was more of an enchanting, calming kind of music present only in fantasy books before your mother brought it to life. She was wildly popular, and your father was only too happy to support her. Speaking of which, your phone rang in your pocket. You took it out and accepted the video call.

“(Y/N)! It’s so nice to see you baby! How’s it going? I know you had patrols today but I forgot about the time difference and your father had to stop me before I called you and distracted you during patrols! He’s always so paranoid you’ll hurt yourself, sweetie. Stay safe, okay?” Your mother was always cheerful.

“Yeah mom, I know. I’m doing pretty well, actually. I arrested a shoplifter today,” you replied, recounting the same story you just told Mina. “Everything’s pretty calm here. How’s your tour going? I missed you,” you asked her.

“That’s good to hear sweetie!” You mom smiled. “The tour is amazing. I’ve never had such an international turnout before! Maybe I need to start considering singing in other languages! Everyone’s always so supportive.” You smiled at her, happy that she was enjoying herself.

“You deserve it Mom. I’m glad that your music is appealing to an international audience. You always work so hard. It’s nice to see that people appreciate all that you’ve done.”

“Thanks sweetie. Here, I’ll let your dad talk to you for a bit.” There was a bit of shuffling on her end as she handed the phone over to your father.

“Hey sweetheart,” your father’s voice boomed through the phone. You held your phone away from your ear, wincing a bit. Quickly dialing the volume down, you responded.

“Hey Papa. Mom said the tour was going well.”

“Yeah, it is. How’s the holidays going for you?” You heard the slight sadness in his voice. You knew that he wanted Mom to take a break in the middle of the tour and spend Christmas with you, but Mom was adamant about it. It was a holiday tour, after all, and tickets had already been booked. Some people were going to see her concerts as a way of celebrating, and she wouldn’t let them down.

“I’m doing good. It’s pretty peaceful here. No big missions or anything,” you say, in an attempt to comfort him.

“Ok, that’s good to hear sweetheart. We miss you.”

“I miss you too, Papa. Don’t worry though, I’ll be here when you guys get back. Have fun in Paris!” You replied, suddenly feeling sad. “Bye Papa! Bye Mom! I’ll see you guys soon!” You blew a kiss to the camera and hung up. Sighing a little, you trotted towards Emiko, the revered chef.

“Can I have a pad thai please?” You asked, putting your phone back in your pocket.

“One pad thai, coming right up!” Emiko beamed. “So, I hear there’s a party tonight. Should I make anything special?”

You thought about it for a bit, then shook your head. “No, you don’t have to. It’s mostly just for the presents. We already have the booze covered. I think Momo is ordering some special hors d’œuvres already and Sato is taking care of the cookies. Are you coming?”

Emiko shook her head. “I’m spending the night with my family and my boyfriend. I think I might make you guys some tiramisu though. I have all the ingredients and I don’t want them to spoil since I’ll be gone for a few days. Desserts are my specialty anyways,” she added. Then, with a knowing smirk, she prodded your arm. “Do you have anyone on your mind? You know, Mina and Ochaco hung some mistletoe up before they left…”

You blushed. Of course they did. Your friends knew all about your one-sided crush. You also knew that he would still be working here. He was always working. You were pretty sure that he had the mind of a robot, focused only on his work and his legacy. With those hand motions he made, you weren’t surprised if he actually was one. You shook your head to get rid of these thoughts. Emiko didn’t know. At least, you didn’t think she knew. You really regretted telling Mina about your little crush. With her tendency to run her mouth, you wouldn’t be surprised if the entire agency knew already. With the exception of your actual crush, of course. He was simply too socially dense to see the signs and too uninterested to pry.

Taking your pad thai, you scurried away from a smug Emiko and plopped yourself down at a table. You dug into your noodles and sighed in contentment. Maybe working during the holidays wasn’t so bad. It wasn’t like you had friends who weren’t as busy as you were anyways.

You finished the last of your noodles, then got up and took your tray to the recycling area. Heading up to your office, you paused by Ingenium’s office. His door was cracked open, and you peeked inside. You had to muffle your giggles at the sight.

He was wrapping presents with such a focused look on his face that you found absolutely adorable. His brows were furrowed, the tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth. He had a spool of ribbons laying on the floor next to him, as well as elegant white-and-gold wrapping paper and a roll of tape. What really amused you was the pile of paper, ribbons, and tape that was bunched together and tossed aside, obviously a result of trial and error. Iida looked frustrated. He had already put his presents in boxes so that they were almost uniform in size and easier to wrap, but he was clearly struggling. You estimated that he had forty boxes littering the floor, but he only had five wrapped. You watched as he ripped off the wrapping on the newest box he had started on, muttering about how hard it was to get straight edges with the wrapping paper. Knocking lightly on his door, you stuck your head around the doorway.

“Need some help?” You asked.

Iida looked up from unspooling more wrapping paper. His face brightened at your offer.

“Yes please, (Y/L/N)-san! I would greatly appreciate your aid. I seem to be having trouble folding the paper and trying to tape it together without it sliding from its position. If you could hold the paper in place while I tape, that would be wonderful!” He looked so excited, almost like a puppy.

You smiled at his eagerness. “Of course, I’d be happy to help.”

You sat down across from him and held the wrapping paper in place while he tore off a piece of tape. The two of you worked in tandem for around an hour, until you finished wrapping all the presents. You sat back, face flushed, and surveyed your work. All forty presents, wrapped with elegant paper and tied up prettily with a gold organza ribbon, were laid out neatly on the floor. It was a satisfying sight. Rolling out your back and cracking your knuckles, you got up from the floor.

“Those were a lot of presents, Iida-san,” you yawned, stretching your arms back like a cat. “Do you want to go down and get some hot cocoa? Emiko already left, but I can make us some.”

Iida got up too. His glasses were slightly askew on his face, and he had a dazed look about him. “That would be greatly appreciated, (Y/L/N)-san. Thank you very much for helping me wrap my presents. It was irresponsible of me to leave them until the last minute.”

“Of course, Iida-san,” you replied. “We were all so busy before the holidays I’m surprised you wanted to wrap everything as fancy as you did. I know that I just stuck my presents in bags, covered them with tissue paper, and called it a day! You didn’t even buy those sticky bows, you tied them with real ribbons. That’s dedication!”

Iida blushed furiously at your compliments. It’s the perfect time to confess to her, he thought. We’re alone, and there’s no one here to see if she rejects me. He took in a deep breath, trying to muster the courage to say something to you, but before he could, you grabbed his hand and dragged him down the hallway for some much-desired peppermint hot cocoa.

Humming lightly to yourself as you lead Iida down the halls, you entered the elevator and pressed the button for the ground floor. Releasing his hand, you clasped your hands behind your back, hoping he wouldn’t notice how they were shaking slightly. Wow, you thought. I really did that. I really just snatched his hand like that. Ugh, he probably hated it every second of the way, he’s just too polite to say anything. God, my palms are so sweaty. Why did I do this to myself?

Unbeknownst to you, Iida was having a mental freak-out of his own. Ahh! She grabbed my hand! And she didn’t seem to hate it! Does this mean she really doesn’t mind my company? Maybe I actually do have a chance with her! No, stop, he told himself. She was probably just tired of how I was staring at her and decided to do something about it. Ugh, I was staring at her, wasn’t I? God, I’m such a creep. Iida wiped his palms on his slacks, then reached up and adjusted his glasses, trying to hide the obvious blush on his face.

“Ding!”

The elevator stopped at the ground floor, and the two of you stepped out into the lobby. The decorations had been up for two weeks already, but it still took your breath away every time you saw it. There were garlands of lights strung high all over the ceiling, and dainty little ornaments hung from the chandeliers. There was a huge Christmas tree next to the fireplace, the floor around it coated in snowy fuzz. You had to resist the temptation to jump in on multiple occasions. You couldn’t help yourself! It just looked so fuzzy and comfortable, like clouds of cotton candy…

The Christmas tree was decorated tastefully. There was a surprising lack of hero-themed ornaments, mostly due to Momo’s elegant decorating. You had all been in agreement when you refused to let Kaminari or Mineta even touch the tree.

Making your way to the kitchen, you relaxed a little when you breathed in the apple-scented candles. It was a surprising choice for a holiday scent. Usually, pine or cinnamon were much more popular scents. You had gotten the privilege to choose the candles though, and although you almost fainted sniffing at every single scent in the candle store, you decided on apple. It was nice and refreshing, with just a subtle touch towards the holiday season. You liked the change of pace from the usual holiday scents, and it seemed it was growing on everyone else too. You stopped at the cabinets that contained the hot cocoa bombs. Emiko had seen these as an online trend with the food community, and she had made dozens of them “as an experiment”. Everyone fell in love with them (because heroes are allowed to be childish!) and they stuck. Now, the agency had an entire cabinet in the kitchen dedicated to the delightful goodies.

“Oat or regular?” You asked Iida.

Iida had, unfortunately, spaced out again. He was thinking about how cute you looked, standing on your tiptoes to reach the cabinet.

“Hello? Earth to Iida-san,” you turned around and waved a hand in front of his face. “You okay there?”

Iida blinked and had to recompose himself again. He kept getting distracted. This was not good. Not good at all.

“Regular is fine,” he replied, his face flushing once again. He really needed to stop daydreaming.

You poured out some milk into a jug and heated it. Then, you placed a hot cocoa bomb in each mug, licking some sprinkles off your fingers as you did so. Once the milk was ready, you filled each mug to the brim, careful not to spill any. It smelled absolutely delectable. Taking a spoon from the cabinets, you stirred both cups slowly, letting the chocolate melt at an even pace.

Iida was watching all of this, and he was still having an internal debate over when to confess. Would it be better to wait until you both finished the hot cocoa? Should he even confess to you on Christmas? What if his confession ruined your holidays? He began to sweat a little, his anxiety rising with each thought. Before he could come up with an excuse to escape, you stuffed a mug into his large hands.

“All done!” You exclaimed, taking a sip of your own cocoa, careful not to burn yourself.

Iida was not so lucky. Distracted by his thoughts, he raised the mug to his lips and gulped.

“Shit!” Iida swore. You blinked at him, a little shocked since he never swore, then immediately put your mug down and raced to the refrigerator to collect some ice cubes. Iida promptly put his offensive mug of cocoa on the counter, glaring at it like it just murdered his dog. Dumping some ice cubes in a glass, you hurried back towards Iida and popped one in his mouth.

“You really should be more careful next time, Iida-san,” you chided. “I just made it! You shouldn’t take such large swigs of a piping hot drink!”

“Sorry, I got distracted.” Iida replied absentmindedly.

“Distracted? By what?” Your curiosity was now piqued.

Iida’s face turned ever redder than before. He averted his eyes and mumbled out some quiet words that you couldn’t quite catch.

“Sorry, what was that?” You gazed up at him. “I couldn’t hear what you said.”

Iida’s hands were stuck to his thighs to prevent himself from freaking you out with aggressive hand gestures, and he didn’t think he’d ever been more nervous in his entire life. He cleared his throat. “I said that I got distracted by you.”

Now it was your turn to blush. “Really?” Your voice was quiet, almost a whisper. You weren’t sure if you heard that right, and your heart was beating so fast you were afraid that he’d hear it.

Iida finally looked at you. “Really,” he confirmed.

You wrung your hands and stepped towards him. Raising your eyes to meet his, your voice a half-whisper, you gulped before your next words.

“I like you.”

Blinking twice, Iida unclasped his hands and pinched his forearm. He winced in pain, then blinked again. You laughed at his antics, then clapped a hand playfully on his bicep.

“I’m real, Iida-san. I’m right here!”

Slowly, a grin crept up Iida’s face. “Really?” He mumbled, obviously still not entirely convinced he wasn’t dreaming.

You chuckled at how you had just asked the same thing moments earlier, but then you grabbed his large hand with your smaller one and squeezed.

“Really.” You smiled bashfully.

The two of you stood in silence for a while, then Iida spoke up.

“I like you too, (Y/L/N)-san.” Feeling bold now that he knew his feelings were reciprocated, he drew his other arm across your shoulders and drew you into a tight hug. You sighed, feeling comfortable and safe in his arms. A part of you wanted to stay like this forever and never wanted him to let go.

“Would you like to go on a date with me on Saturday afternoon at 3?” Iida’s voice rumbled in your ear.

You were bursting with excitement. A date! A real, formal, date! “I’d love to, but why so specific?” You giggled.

“Ahh, well, my patrol ends at 2:30, so I thought-”

Of course Iida volunteered for patrols the weekend after Christmas. Did this man ever take a break?

“No problem at all, Iida-san. That sounds lovely.”

Iida released you from the hug and rubbed lightly at the back of his neck. “You can… you can call me Tenya, if you’d like.”

You were smiling so big that you feared your face would split. “I’d love that, Tenya.” His eyes crinkled when you called him by his first name. “And you can call me (Y/N).”

Iida nodded his head. “(Y/N). I like that,” he said to himself. He muttered your name a few times, getting used to the way it rolled off his tongue. You blushed and hugged him again, pressing your nose into his chest. He was just too adorable.

You wanted to stay like that, but your phone dinging incessantly in your pocket made it uncomfortable.

Mina

(Y/N)!!! my parents ordered this WHOLE-ASS TURKEY for dinner with JUST THE 3 OF US!!! how we gon finish it all?!?

Mina

*burps* we did it. we finished all of it. the whole turkey. (Y/N). we. finished. a. whole. fucking. turkey. pls send help i can’t walk (Y/NNNNNNNN)!!!

(Y/N)

want me to call u an uber … mina mina MINA MINA DID U PASS OUT im calling an uber mina istg

Quickly sending an Uber to the restaurant Mina was at, you put your phone back in your pocket and looked up at Tenya.

“Hey. Do you wanna get your presents and put them under the tree?” You asked.

Tenya quickly straightened up. “Thank you for reminding me, (Y/N). I had almost forgotten about them!”

“No problem!” You chirped. “Let’s go!” You took his hand in yours again and lead the way to the elevator. As the elevator chimed, the two of you waltzed in, hands still clasped together.

Humming a little tune to yourself, you stepped out of the elevator. You and Tenya entered his office, and each returned with an armful of presents, carefully stacked as to avoid damaging the delicate ribbons the two of you had spent so much time tying.

It was a tradition in the agency to get everyone something small. However, you participated in gift exchanges every year. This year, it was a Secret Santa-type exchange, but the UA Hero Agency did Secret Santa’s a bit differently. Instead of giving your partner the gift on Christmas Eve, the gifts were labeled with typed name tags in generic Times New Roman font. Then, there was the guessing portion. Everyone got 3 guesses at the party when they first open it, and after that, they get one guess per week. Whoever held out the longest (avoided being guessed) would win a batch of Sato’s homemade cookies, a week of free food from Emiko, and two patrol coupons (basically the adult version of homework passes). This year, you had drawn Bakugo as your partner. You’d decided to get him a ¥4,000 gift card to his favorite ramen restaurant, as well as a high-quality leather jacket. The gifts were pretty generic, and you thought that you had a chance at the prize. You chuckled to yourself when you remembered that last year, Momo had been so frustrated when she hadn’t figured out who had given her a pretty earring and necklace set after two months that she’d used Creation to make fingerprint dust and swiped it all over the box. It had turned out to be Todoroki. Needless to say, he’d won the prize that year.

The two of you made a few more trips, carrying gifts from his office to the tree. Checking the time, you saw that it had been an hour since Ochaco’s patrol ended. Right as you were about to call her, the front door to the lobby burst open.

“(Y/N)!!!” Your friend screeched, holding up a kitten with fur the color of cinnamon. “Look what I found on my patrol! I had to take her to the vet really quickly to make sure she wasn’t hurt, and she didn’t seem to have an owner. Just look at her!”

You beamed. The kitten was absolutely ADORABLE. And not only was Ochaco safe, she brought a kitten back with her!

“Can I hold her?” You asked.

“Duh!” Ochaco passed the kitten from her arms to yours. Behind her, you saw Bakugou walking sullenly, arms drawn tight across his chest. You stifled a giggle at the sight. He obviously wanted a turn with the kitten too, but his pride wouldn’t let him as for it.

“We were coming back from patrols and I saw this little one stuck in a tree! And when I floated up to take her down, she just looked so sad. There wasn’t a collar on her or anything, so we took her to the vet. It seems like she was abandoned,” Ochaco pouted. “And so we asked the vet to vaccinate her and everything, and we brought her back here! Can we keep her? Mr. Grumpy over there already said yes.”

Tenya looked like he was about to object, seeing as this building had a no-pets policy, but then he saw how your face lit up and the idea and changed his mind. Maybe having a pet on the premises wouldn’t be too bad, he conceded. It’s not like there were other people sharing the building with them anyways.

“Of course we can keep her!” You squealed. Bakugou huffed a sigh. He’d have to deal with all these idiots fawning over the kitten for weeks, and he wasn’t happy about that, but there was no denying that the thing was cute. He’d mellowed out since his high school days and seeing a therapist for anger management classes certainly helped.

The kitten felt warm and fuzzy in your arms, and when you stroked it down its back with the palm of your hand, it let out a satisfied purr.

“What should we name her?” Ochaco asked.

You thought about it for a moment. “Well, since you found her, and her fur is brownish, why not Coco?”

“Coco! I love it!” She beamed. Coco purred again. “It looks like she likes it too!”

You smiled and looked down on the kitty. “Coco,” You murmured. “Welcome to the family.”

Just then, Mina burst through the doors, brimming with energy and not looking at all as if she’d fainted from turkey overconsumption.

“Mina!” You ran towards her. “I thought you fainted or something!” You accused, poking her in the chest. “You didn’t even leave me on read!! You just LEFT!”

“Chill, chill, girly, I’m alive and kicking! Just had to take a quick nap because of my digestive woes,” She flashed you a big thumbs-up. “And what’s this I see? Do we have an agency pet now? Did Shinso sneak it in his pocket from the cat cafe?”

“Shinso what?”

“Cat cafe?”

“I KNEW there was something fishy about his jacket the other day!”

You, Tenya, and Ochaco said at the same time.

Mina stared at all of you, then shook her head. “Never mind.”

Turning around, you looked at Ochaco. “I wanna hear about this later, you hear?”

“Alright, alright!” Mina shouted. “Change into your holiday gear! Let’s get this rolling!”

You had made a sweater especially for tonight. Knitting was a great way to relax, and huddling up in a cozy armchair with the soft yarn, some hot cocoa, and your favorite book, you had finished your holiday-themed sweater in two weeks. Now, you would finally get the chance to wear it. The sweater you made was white, a soft gold-and-silver threading woven through in the pattern of snowflakes. It was a basic winter pattern, but you were proud of your work.

Setting Coco down on the couch, you headed into the locker rooms to change into your sweater and some flannel pajama bottoms. Walking out, you noticed Tenya was still in his business attire, which looked pretty uncomfortable by your standards, although it did fit him nicely.

“Tenya,” you called out. “Are you wearing that to the party?”

He turned around at your voice, looking slightly taken aback. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I am. Why?”

“Nothing, just wondering,” you replied. Good thing that your present to him was a nice, cozy, hand-knit sweater. You may or may not have thought about making him a matching one, but then you’d decided that it was too forward.

“You look…” Tenya stared at you. “You look…cute,” he said, with a small blush on his face.

Blushing at his compliment, you smiled and ducked your head. “Thanks.”

“Your sweater…it looks nice,” he added.  

Playing with the hems of your sleeves, you smiled up at him bashfully. “Thanks. I made it myself. I really like knitting. It’s kind of therapeutic.”

“Oh, wow. You are truly very talented, (Y/N)!” Tenya praised.

“Thanks.” You rubbed the back of your neck. It seemed like you had lost the ability to say anything else. Why did you suck so much at making small talk?

Just then, Mina stepped out from the locker room and saved you from any further embarrassment.

“Hey, has Yaomomo come down yet?” Mina asked.

“No, she hasn’t. Do you want me to go get her?” You answered.

“Nah, it’s alright, I’ll just text her real quick.” Mina pulled out her phone, fingers dancing rapidly across the screen, then put it back in her pocket. Minutes later, Momo stepped out of the elevator, already dressed in a red sweater and white jeans. She always looked so put-together. You were sure that she had a second quirk.

“Yaomomo!” Mina screeched, running up to her friend. “You’ll never guess what I ate for dinner!”

You groaned as Mina recounted her dining disaster. You loved Mina, but her tendency to tell her experiences to everyone multiple times could sometimes get a little annoying. Trying your best to tune her out, you tapped Tenya’s shoulder and moved to settle on the couch with Coco.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Mina shouted. “Come here!”

Begrudgingly, you stood up again, having just sat down moments earlier. “What is it, Mina?”

“We forgot to introduce Coco! Yaomomo hasn’t seen her yet!”

Oh right. You did forget. You lifted Coco with both hands, then scurried over to where Ochaco, Mina, and Momo huddled. Momo let out a quiet “aww” when she saw the kitty and lifted her manicured hands in a silent invitation to hold her.

You gently placed Coco in her outstretched arms and was about to turn and leave when Mina grabbed your elbow. “Not so fast, (Y/N),” she scolded you sternly. “Picture time!”

Mina took out her phone and swiped open the camera app. You girls all huddled together as she snapped a picture for the fans.

Settling back down with Coco on the couch, surrounded by your friends, you didn’t think that you had ever felt happier. One by one, more of your friends and coworkers began to trickle in, until finally, when a disgruntled Jirou arrived with a protesting Kaminari in tow, Mina stood up.

“Alright! Everyone’s here now, so let’s get this party rolling!”

She bounced off to the kitchen to grab plates for everyone. You could smell Sato’s freshly-baked cookies from here, and your stomach growled in response. Remembering the tiramisu that Emiko had made, you followed Mina into the kitchen.

Mina held a stack of plates that covered half her face. It was wobbling slightly, the entire thing almost toppling over multiple times. You had gotten out the fancier cake platter and was currently in hyper-focus mode, carefully moving the tiramisu from its cake mold onto the crystal platter. You breathed out a sigh of relief as the process was finally completed and the cake hadn’t been ruined.

Holding the crystal tray with both hands, you stepped out into the lobby, marched over to the coffee table in the center, and slowly set the tray down.

“Hey guys, Emiko made us some tiramisu,” You called out. “Come here if you want some.” You held a cake knife in your hand and began serving everyone.

Tenya watched all of this with barely-hidden admiration. You were just so competent. So hard-working, so kind, and so wonderfully skilled at everything you do. Even the things that you weren’t good at, you tried your hardest to learn and to improve. He was definitely in deep, and to be honest, he didn’t mind a single bit. You were worthy of being admired, and he vowed that he would let you know in all the ways he could.

As you served the last slice of tiramisu to Ojiro, you carried the cake platter back to the kitchen and sat down next to Shinsou, who was, not surprisingly, hogging all of Coco’s attention. Seeing you, Coco scrambled over Shinsou’s lap and faceplanted into yours. You laughed at her enthusiasm and snorted when you heard Shinsou mutter “traitor” underneath his breath.

“So Shinsou,” you started casually. “What’s this I hear about you stealing cats from the cat café?”

Shinsou’s face immediately turned a tomato red. He put his hands up defensively. “No, wait, you have it all wrong- I swear- who told you about it anyways? Never mind,” he stopped his waving motions. You snickered. You were definitely getting the full story out of him later. For now, you had things to do.

Strolling over casually to Tenya with Coco still in your arms, you very sneakily dropped her, front paws landing gracefully, onto Bakugou’s head.

“Hey! What’s this damn cat doing here!” Bakugou yelped. Coco also yelped, and it came to you that dropping her on Bakugou’s spikey hair was probably not the best idea ever. However, as Coco quickly scampered down and curled up on Bakugou’s shoulder, and Kirishima was sitting next to him to make sure he didn’t kill the cat, you felt a sense of triumph. Bakugo was smiling. Not smirking, not grinning maniacally as he beat someone up, but genuinely smiling. You gave yourself an internal high five as you moved onto your next goal.

You walked hesitantly towards Tenya, and when he turned his head towards you, about to ask what you were doing, you quickly linked your hand with his and started leading him towards the rest of the group.

“(Y-Y/N) ?” Tenya sputtered. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” You replied cheekily. “I want to hold hands with you!”

“B-but, do they know?” Tenya gestured nervously with his free hand.

“Nope, but they’re about to,” you grimaced, thinking about all the teasing you’d have to endure from your friends later. Better to just get this over with during the party, when everyone had the attention span of a goldfish and any embarrassing moments would hopefully be forgotten moments later when more exciting things came along, such as Mineta’s annual lingerie gift. Whatever the powers that be were doing, they were definitely not doing the world any favors when they let Mineta draw a girl for the Secret Santa every single year. But, for all the bad things you could say about Mineta, he definitely consumes enough material to have at least semi-decent taste in lingerie. Surprising, and sometimes gross, but not entirely unwelcomed if you could manage to forget who gifted it. The most disturbing thing was he knew all the girls’ sizes. You tried your hardest to not think about that. It’s not like you could erase his memory anyways.

You settled down with Tenya on a vacant couch, inwardly counting the minutes until someone noticed your position. Tenya looked vaguely uncomfortable, his posture ramrod straight, and you squeezed his hand in reassurance.

“No one’s going to judge or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about,” you whispered into his ear. “And besides, at least half the girls already knew I had a crush on you, so this won’t entirely come as news to them.”

Tenya relaxed slightly at that, then stiffened again when he noticed a pair of eyes glancing his way.

Midoriya had been excited at seeing Ochaco for the first part of the evening, but then had wondered where his other friend had gone. He knew Tsu was in southern Japan, as she couldn’t stand the cold and was operating in the warm coastal areas instead, but Iida being absent was strange. He had searched around the lobby, and when his eyes descended upon you and Iida cuddling on the couch, he was intrigued, to say the least.

He stared at the two of you for a solid minute, not wanting to disturb your peace. Slowly, he turned back to Ochaco, thinking that it wasn’t his place to draw attention to the two of you.

Ochaco, however, had no such qualms. Noticing how Deku began to space out during their conversation, she followed his line of vision to the two of you, blinked twice to check if she was seeing it right, then immediately let out a squeal.

Heads turned at the sound, and in moments, everyone was staring at you and Tenya curiously. You hadn’t noticed the attention yet, but Tenya had, and he grew stiffer and stiffer until you finally looked up at his face with furrowed brows.

“Tenya, what’s wrong?” You whispered. “Do you not enjoy cuddling? I can stop if you’d like,” your lips were pressed together in concern.

“I-it’s not that,” Tenya whispered back. “Look.”

You finally raised your head from his chest and saw thirty pairs of eyes staring back. After a few moments of silence, the room erupted.

“Iida-kun! Why didn’t you tell us?” Midoriya was the first to raise a question.

“(Y/NNNNNN)!!!!!!!!!!!” Mina practically screamed as she ran towards you. She clasped her hands dramatically over her heart. “YOU DID IT YOU DID IT YOU DID IT OMG YOU GUYS ARE SO ADORABLE EEEEE!!!!!!”

Half the room winced at her loud tone, and you quickly moved Coco from your lap to save her from the incoming bear hug.

Mina launched herself in your arms, then stepped back and shook your shoulders until you felt your brain rattling around in your skull like soupy mush.

“(Y/N)! What did I say, huh? Bitch I TOLD you that he liked you too, and you wait three goddamn months to finally make a move!?! Honey-”

Your face flushed red. Gently, you pushed her away. “Mina, stop,” you whispered, horrified that she was making a scene. It was too late. Ochaco and Hagakure rushed towards you, Momo trailing more slowly behind them. The boys were stunned for a bit, since you had always seemed so quiet and shy, much less Iida’s feelings towards you. As their initial shock wore off, Midoriya trailed after Momo to approach Iida.

“Congratulations, Iida-kun!” He held up his arms in front of his chest. “You and (Y/N) are really cute together!”

“Yeah bro! That’s so manly that you finally confessed!” Kirishima added, with a quirk of his lips and a thumbs-up.

“Tch. Fucking coward. Took you idiots three fucking months to confess, huh.” Bakugou smirked, but you could tell he wasn’t really annoyed. You actually somewhat got along with him, due to all the times Mina would drag you to hang out with her friends.

You struggled vainly against the arms of your friends encasing you. “Guys,” you pleaded. “Let me out, please.”

Reluctantly, the girls let go, and you immediately tried to redirect their attention. “Shouldn’t we start opening presents?” You asked hopefully.

“Oh, you sneaky little thing,” Mina wagged her finger in your face. “Don’t think we’ll forget about this, (Y/N), but you’re right, we should start opening presents or we’ll be here all night.”

“We’ll be here all night anyways,” Todoroki pointed out.

“You knew what I meant,” Mina sighed.

Mina enlisted the help of Ojiro and Shoji to pass out the Secret Santa presents; you’d all open the rest of your personal presents later.

The best way to go about this, after years of trial and error, was for everyone to open their presents at the same time. It would simply take too long for everyone to open theirs one by one, and you’d all realized that the people who opened theirs first had a significant disadvantage when it came to guessing who their partner was, as the ones who opened theirs later had the benefit of some options already being eliminated. When you opened your present, you tried your hardest to hold back a squeal. It was a limited-edition album from your favorite artist! You hugged it close to your chest, and immediately knew who gave it to you. Jirou. Her parents were musicians too, and you had bonded over your love of this artist. It was a thoughtful gift, and you were glad that she had given it to you, even though it immediately gave her away.

The rest of your friends opened their presents. Poor Momo. No wonder Mineta had looked so gleeful earlier. He had been her Secret Santa and had gotten her a lacy black lingerie set. Her face was so red you were beginning to get scared that she would hyperventilate, but you had to admit that it was a pretty nice set. Mineta was basically drooling at this point, and Jirou was trying to comfort her while sending a death glare towards Mineta. Mineta, meanwhile, had received a new video game. Sero had received a large pack of farmer’s market coupons, as well as some homemade mochi from Ochaco, who had blushed and apologized profusely for not being able to afford something better for him. Sero just grinned and gave her a thumbs-up, saying that it was completely okay and that he appreciated her effort into gift-giving. She had brightened up a bit at that.

Koda had received a new hamster wheel along with some toys for his various pets. Shoji had been gifted a comfortable-looking poncho, as well as three pairs of matching gloves. Ochaco had received a generous sum of money, Midoriya had gotten a new set of comic books, and Iida had received a beanie and a multiflavored pack of tea. Aoyama had received a makeup set, and had gifted a makeup set as well, evidenced by his inability to contain himself and pounced on Hagakure, asking if she liked it. Hagakure was ecstatic, babbling about how she could finally show her face and how she’d never really been able to afford a full set before and how Aoyama was so considerate.

Sato had received a new baking pan, as well as cute mittens and a trending recipe book. He had given Setsuna a batch of cookies, as well as a gallon of frozen cookie dough with instructions on how to make it. There wasn’t really a point in him trying to win the contest, since he would be one of the people providing the prize. Mina had gotten fuzzy socks and a blanket, Kirishima had received a new pair of tennis shoes, and Jirou had been gifted a new pair of headphones. Ojiro had received some sort of custom tail armor with spikes along with an Amazon gift card, and Todoroki had gotten a hand-made red-and-white sweater with a red reindeer nose smack in the middle, along with a gift card to a hair salon, tucked into a bouquet of red-and-white candy canes. The only person you could think of that would go so far into the color scheme was Hagakure, who seemed like just the type to make an ugly sweater for fun. Shinsou had received earmuffs, a silk eye mask with a note (“to help you sleep”), and some gourmet coffee beans (“in case you still can’t”). Mina had seen the little notes that came with his gifts and started teasing him relentlessly about how sweet his Secret Santa was and how it was so cute that he had a secret admirer. Shinsou looked very nonchalant about it all and grumbled about how he just wanted to pet Coco and then go to bed.

Finally, Kaminari received some Pokémon cards to add to his collection (yes, he collected Pokémon cards, what was wrong with that?) along with another Pikachu plush, as per usual. It was an unspoken tradition that whoever drew Kaminari for their Secret Santa would get him a Pikachu plush along with whatever else they decided to give him. He had about twenty, collected over various years from birthdays and holidays. If this kept up, he’d be able to fill an entire closet with them once he retired.

As the chatter slowly died down, you snuggled into Tenya again. At some point during the present exchange, Shinsou had stolen Coco from the couch you occupied. Stifling a yawn, you pulled out a bag and handed it to Tenya.

“What’s this?” He asked, a slight smile on his face.

“It’s your gift, silly,” you booped him on the nose with your index finger.

“Ah, I see,” he replied, still smiling. “Do you want me to open it?”

“Duh,” you giggled into his chest. “What else would you do with it?”

Chuckling lightly, Tenya removed the tissue paper from the top of the bag. He stuck his hand inside, then pulled out a sweater. The sweater that you’d knitted for him. It was navy, the color of the yarn matching his hair, with gold and white snowflake detailing. His heart skipped a beat when he realized that you had made this especially for him, with your own hands. Putting the sweater down beside him, he wrapped his arms around you and pressed his face to your hair.

“Thank you, (Y/N),” he whispered. “I love it.”

You flushed, but you hugged him back. “You’d better,” you teased. “I spent two weeks on that.”

“Well, I appreciate it.” Tenya ruffled your hair.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, just soaking in the pleasant atmosphere. Yawning, you stretched out your arms, careful not to hit Tenya in the face. You gently pushed his arm off of your torso and got up to go to the bathroom.

When you came back, Tenya was nowhere to be seen. You searched around the common area and stepped briefly into the kitchen, but he wasn’t there. Sighing, you grabbed your parka and padded outside.

“Tenya?” You called out as you stuck your head around the doorframe. He was with Kirishima and Todoroki, clearing the entryway of the building of snow. You leaned back along the handrails of the stairs and watched. Your friends were all just so nice. So caring, so wonderful, so kind. As Todoroki evaporated the last bit of snow, you stepped aside to let them all head back in. As Tenya reached you, he paused briefly, looking up.

“What?” You tilted your head up also, curious to see what he was staring at. Oh. So this was where Mina and Ochaco had decided to hang the mistletoe. If Tenya hadn’t looked up, you would’ve missed its existence entirely. You looked back down at Tenya to gauge his reaction.

He gulped, and softly taking your chin into his hand, he leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss on your lips. You leaned up to meet him, rising slightly on your toes and wrapping your arms around his neck. The kiss was long and sweet, and you were both a bit breathless when you let go.

You smiled sweetly up at him and took his strong hand in yours. Standing on your tiptoes again, you pressed another soft kiss to his cheek.

“Merry Christmas.”

Masterlist

[priezpourlui]

Letter to a Dead Friend

I remember being nine years old and being in the backseat of mom’s 1998 forest green Honda while she drove me home from school. She’d always take highway 132 home instead of going through town. She only did it when she didn’t have to carpool, and it was just me in the car. It added fifteen minutes to the travel time, and I always questioned her as to why she went this way. “It’s just prettier on the backroads” was the answer I would receive, and I didn’t question further because I sort of agreed. The 132 took us through the countryside and it was only two lanes. Filled with rolling hills that were green in the spring and yellow in the summer but was filled with livestock year-round, shitty farmhouses scattered here and there on both sides of the road and rarely another car is seen driving.

On time, my confusion grew as to why we took this trek when I looked up into the rearview mirror and saw that her eyes were closed. The windows were down, and the hot wind was pushing her hair back and she was grinning from ear to ear. I was scared but I didn’t interrupt. I hadn’t seen her smile like that in months. I counted…29 Mississippi…30 Mississippi…31 Mississippi. 85 Mississippis later and I finally saw her wide brown eyes again just a few feet from the stop sign she usually does California rolls at and never gets caught. This carried on over the years until I was old enough to drive myself home from school. I never asked her why she did this. I think I was afraid of the answer.

I’m back home this weekend, fifteen years later, and I decided to take the 132 after visiting your gravesite. Same dilapidated barns, same smell of cow shit, and same rolling hills. Nothing has changed. Finally, something in my life that’s stayed constant over the years.

I decided to try for myself to get the answer I never received from my mom as to why she killed her eyesight every time we hit that long straight stretch of road. 85 Mississippis. I knew the 132 like it was a second language so I wasn’t afraid.  I saw the red barn coming up, this is where she would start. I fucking hate that barn. We took family Christmas pictures there the year before dad left. I stopped right in the middle of the road with the red barn to my right and I closed my eyes. I closed them so tight that I could see phosphenes floating.

1 Mississippi…2 Mississippi…3 Mississippi…

As soon as my eyes shut, I found myself in a new place. A new place I felt like I’ve needed to see but never been to before. My chest was lighter, my breaths were deeper, my thoughts were clearer. I had to tell you this because it felt like my perfect world, but that realization only came to me when I saw you there in the passenger seat.

It looked like I made my way into a Derain painting.  The colors bled together. The sky was a royal blue with trees so tall that I swear they were kissing the clouds. It was empty, just us and the road. No shitty barns that leave a bad taste in my mouth, no electric fences holding the cattle back, and no one to ruin this one minute and twenty-five seconds that I had there with you.

17 Mississippi…18 Mississippi…19 Mississippi…

We couldn’t mutter any words, but we could hear each other’s thoughts.  It felt like this place had surround sound the way we were so loud in each other’s heads.  It was a good pain.  A pain that I would experience many times over if I could. I saw you smiling just like mom would when she escaped. I hadn’t seen that smile in what felt like centuries. Seeing that smile solidified that I really did find myself in my perfect world.

36 Mississippi…37 Mississippi…38 Mississippi…

The windows were down the whole time but the wind coming through wasn’t loud like I remember it being when I was back in the real world. The air was crisp, I saw your nose getting a tinge of red like that little kid from the Kleenex commercials. God, I wish you saw it here. It doesn’t make sense, but the sun was bright as also were the stars. You pointed out the constellations for me as I bravely took my sight off the road, and I saw Orion again for the first time since you left.  Seeing Orion again reminded me of my 17th birthday party.

55 Mississippi…56 Mississippi…57 Mississippi…

That was my last birthday you were here for. We telepathically laughed and reminisced about how we found my mom’s cheap bottle of Stolichnaya that day and went to the park. I remember we didn’t return until the moon was sitting high in the sky directly above us and the cops dragged us home. I never saw Orion before that night.

69 Mississippi…70 Mississippi…71 Mississippi…

I knew our time was almost up. I felt your presence fading. Your voice in my head growing farther and farther. Your physical being in my passenger seat growing more and more transparent.  Once again, I didn’t get to say bye to you.

83 Mississippi…84 Mississippi…85 Mississippi…

When the real world was visible again, I realized I don’t blame mom for putting my life at risk all those days on the 132. Only being nine years old I was conscious that her life was unrelenting for her at that point. Dad left with no warning, her job was hell, and she had two kids that needed her full-time support. Those eighty-five seconds were her only time for her to escape and arrive in a place that she yearned for.

I wanted to ask you if you ended up in your perfect world after you died.  I was afraid of you saying “no” not only for you, but for me too. Death already frightens me, and I couldn’t handle hearing that we don’t end up in our own personal heavens. But what if you had said “yes”? I wanted you to tell me what it was like. I lost that chance until I come to the 132 again.

[krreader]

BTS scenario → telling your children your love story.

pairing: bts x reader fandom: bts warnings: / genre: fluff ; crack word count: 1.5k+

a/n: you did make it in and I hope you like it! ♥ also, happy birthday to the dear anon, I’m thinking about you and your grandpa today, I also hope you enjoy this ♥

kim seokjin

“I met your mother when I was still at Uni. She was taking some of the same courses as me.”

“Wow.. so you've been together for that long? Really?”

Both you and Jin chuckled, you being the first to answer the question of your son, “Not really. You have to remember that your father was even more famous then, than he is now. He didn't make a lot of friends during his Uni days. We only met each other again after his group had disbanded and he had come to a reunion.”

“And then?”

“And then I realized that all the people I went to class with were at a point where they were happy in life, either with themselves or with partners, except for me and.. your mom,” Jin smiled and interlinked your hand with his, “We talked all night long, got to know each other for the first time, despite having met so many years before that. And the rest is history.”

Your son quickly closed his eyes when he saw his father leaning in for a kiss.

He asked for the story, but he didn’t need you two to display just how much you loved each other.

min yoongi

“You remember when your father was still a member of BTS? How much time he would spend in his studio?”

Your daughter snorted, “Yeah. I remember. It's hard to forget.”

Yoongi shifted a little uncomfortably, but your son quickly smiled for him to know that it was okay and that nobody was angry at him for that. Back when they were kids, they couldn’t understand why their father was away so often, but now they did. They heard the songs and watched the music videos. They understood now.

“Well, I used to work with him on one album. Just the one. And we'd spend hours in his studio together for a very long time. We both poured everything we had into that album and saw sides of each other that were very vulnerable. And starting off a relationship with this kind of vulnerability and trust.. we just kind of continued seeing each other, because neither of us has had many relationships that were so honest and pure. Even after the album was done, we didn’t stop meeting. We'd meet, we'd talk and eventually..-”

“And eventually..-” your daughter wiggled her eyebrows, your son immediately hitting her arm and saying, “You're ruining the story! Stop it!”

“Eventually we fell in love,” Yoongi completed the story, “That was what your mother had wanted to say, because that's what happened.”

Your son seemed to accept it, unlike your daughter, but at the same time, she didn't want to hear an alternative version, so she was content with it.

jung hoseok

“Your uncles and I were on vacation, the first time in a very long time without any cameras. We were able to explore on our own and do whatever we wanted.”

“Or whomever you wanted,” your son rolled his eyes, knowing damn well that he was the reason you two ended up married, because Hoseok had managed to get you pregnant on that one-month trip.

“What?” your younger son blinked in confusion, you quickly interfering.

“Your dad and I met at the beach,” you smiled, “Remember when we were at the beach? How much fun we had playing in the ocean? That's what daddy and I did. We had a lot of fun. So much fun that when it was time to go back for your father, he asked me to come with him.

It was the truth... just in a child-friendly way.

“That's true love!” your youngest jumped into your arms, while your oldest looked at Hoseok and mouthed: “That's no contraception.”

But despite that, he knew that you two loved each other. Yes, your relationship hadn't exactly started out the way that Hoseok’s family would have wanted it, but in the end, everyone loved and accepted you.

And most importantly, Hoseok's and your initial feelings for each other never dulled, they only grew with time.

kim namjoon

Family time like this was rare nowadays, as your son had hit puberty recently and spending time like this wasn't 'cool' anymore.

But for some reason, when his younger sister, your daughter, asked for your love story, he became interested.

“My business was still quite small back then. I could barely pay the rent, didn't have a lot of customers and no matter what I tried, every choice I made seemed to bring me closer to having to close my shop. And then one day, your father walked in with his beautiful smile and asked me if I could arrange a bouquet of flowers for him, because it was grandma's birthday and my shop was close to her house.”

“You went to mommy's flower shop?” your daughter's eyes beamed, “Mommy makes the best bouquets, doesn’t she daddy?”

“That’s right, baby girl,” he smiled at you with the same smile that he had on his face that first day he walked in. That smile that you fell in love with, “I kept coming back to her store, despite never having an occasion that needed flowers. I just wanted to see her, because despite all the pretty flowers in her shop, she was and still is, the most beautiful of them all”

And while your daughter was swooning, even your son couldn't help the soft smile that spread on his lips.

park jimin

“I was trying reeeeeally hard to get your mommy to fall in love with me,” your daughter sat on Jimin's lap, gently rocking her from side to side as he kept kissing her head, “I messaged her every day, saying good morning, how I hoped she would have a great day and then I'd say goodnight when it was time to go to bed.”

“And did you not message him back, mommy?”

“Not at first. I didn't think your father liked me that much,” you thought he wanted you for another reason that you didn't want to tell your daughter at her young age just yet.. or ever, “But after a few months, I finally agreed to go on a date with him.”

“What did you do? Did you go to see a movie like daddy sometimes does with me?”

“No, we went to this really beautiful restaurant. Like the one we were at with grandma and grandpa last Christmas. Do you remember all the beautiful decorations and flowers?”

“Woooooow, really? And did you fall in love with daddy there, mommy?”

You smiled at Jimin, “I think I already fell in love before that.”

Because at some point, even if you always had that bit of doubt within you, waking up to these wonderful messages of his.. they really were the best part of your day. 

“You did a good job, daddy,” she gave him a big thumbs up, both of you starting to laugh.

kim taehyung

“I was in Seoul for the premiere of my new movie that day and your father was one of the people that attended the screening and the after party.”

But your daughters both looked at you completely unimpressed and turned their heads to their dad when they realized that your story had already come to an end, “Can you tell the story? You tell it much better than mom does.”

Taehyung chuckled, “Well, let's see. Where do I begin? Maybe.. the moment I first saw her? That was.. like nothing I've ever felt before. I have heard of your mother, at that time, everyone had. But seeing her in real life, nothing compared to it,” your husband smiled happily at you, “I couldn't take my eyes off her and I knew that if I didn't at least try to talk to her, I would regret it for the rest of my life. And thanks to my undeniable charm, she couldn't resist when I asked her out,” he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Really?” your eldest chuckled, “Were you impressed by dad?”

“It was more of me feeling really bad for him, I think. He seemed desperate,” you winked.

“Hey! Don't lie to our kids, you were giggling like a teenager back then!”

All three of you girls laughed.

jeon jeongguk

“Uncle Jimin told me that the story is really funny, is that true?” your son asked.

“I think that depends on who you ask. At the time, it wasn't funny at all,” you continued folding the laundry, looking at Jeongguk to tell the story.

“Your mom had started working for BigHit only a month prior, so I didn't really know her when it happened. One day, I wanted to go up to Bang PD's floor and she managed to jump into the elevator just in time. Everything was fine until the elevator suddenly stopped and we were stuck there. For ten hours.”

“TEN?!” your older daughter yelled, “Seriously?! Why weren’t you able to get out sooner?”

“It was really late and there was barely anyone at the building and since we were still below the surface, neither of our phones were able to get a signal. We tried the alarm button in the elevator, but it took forever until they came.”

Both of your daughters now stared at you in shock. That was definitely a twist they hadn’t seen coming.

“Once the initial panic was gone after we realized that we weren't that high up and that even if the elevator did fall, nothing serious would happen, we started talking. There's.. not really much else to do for ten hours.”

“And that's when you realized you were perfect for each other?”

“I don't think it was that,” finally, you sat down next to Jeongguk, “But when you share a moment like this, it's almost as if something connects you that you can't quite explain. We shared a lot of personal stuff and just.. bonded. And that's all we did for the first few months of seeing each other. We just talked about things that we hadn't told anyone... ever.”

Your daughter grinned, “You found your soulmate.”

“We did,” Jeongguk smiled.

[adhd-disaster-willie]

Seventeen and strung out on confusion; chapter 1/4

Summary: Just some snippets of backstory for the one and only Alex Mercer; aka my comfort character. Each moment will have a date attached so you can understand the timeline. Angst with fluffy found family moments :)

Warnings: Homophobia, swearing

---

As I’m sure you could guess, there are numerous problems that come with being the only out gay kid at your school in 1994. It’s not so bad if you keep your head down and persuade your friends not to get into a fight with everyone who throws a slur your way, but regardless. That pink hoodie that you’ve been wearing since you were 14 and is honestly too small at this point but your parents refuse to buy you another one? Well it’s a target on your back and apparently everyone at the school is now a professional archer. Or at least, they’re all very proficient in the art of unoriginal insults that cut deeper than they should. All of this is to say, don’t come out to your religious parents in 1994. Ever.

---

Alex Mercer was born into a perfect nuclear family, in a two story house with a white picket fence, brick columns, and a clean cut yard that was unsettlingly green. His parents were as religious as anyone could get; straight-laced, good Catholic parents who kept their hands tight around Alex’s shoulders. He went to church every Sunday and tried to ignore the way his neck itched from the too-tight collar and his mother swatting at his hands until he had to sit on them to refrain from drumming on the nearest surface. He was good at hiding the way he payed undivided attention to his little sister’s ballet classes, good at pretending to stare at the girls in the hallways that all his friends drooled after, and especially good at convincing everyone that he drummed and sang to… impress said girls. Right. But unfortunately, Alex was even better at accidentally outing himself a day into the New Year, consequentially losing all of his parents’ affection.

He didn’t even exist to them anymore. Maybe it would’ve been better if they’d given him a million restrictions and curfews and basically chained his hands together, because this was unsettling. And lonely. Family dinners were a thing of the past, and he’d really begun to sympathize with Reggie and his microwaved, half-cold meals every morning and night. But it could always be worse. They hadn’t kicked him out… yet.

---

January 25, 1994

“Alex, dude!”

Alex flinched upon realizing Reggie’s hand waving in front of his face. He looked up and smiled guiltily, realizing the way he’d frozen, spaced out staring at the wall and absentmindedly hitting his sticks against his legs with a beat that didn’t at all match the song they were supposed to be rehearsing.

Luke sighed, wiping the pout off his face. “Alex, come on man! We aren’t gonna get any gigs if you keep…” He waved his hands vaguely and slapped Alex’s shoulder. “Just, pay attention dude.”

“Right,” Alex replied, his voice strained. He was staring down at his shoes and he could feel his bandmates having a silent conversation above his head which he could only deduce Luke was not happy with, probably meaning they were stopping rehearsal. He didn’t want them to stop for him; it made him feel like a burden, and Luke was right, if they were gonna make it anywhere, they had to be all in.

“Alex, you okay?” Reggie asked, his eyebrows knit together in concern.

Alex nodded briefly and kept his gaze trained on his feet. His sneakers were too small and he had to curl his toes in for them to fit but he was afraid of the reaction he’d get from telling his parents he needed something.

“It’s not one of those homophobic jackasses again, right?” Bobby asked, moving closer, his eyes narrowing. “I swear, this time I will cave Josh’s fucking face in-”

“It’s not!” Alex clarified, finally lifting his head. “It isn’t…” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look it’s just my parents alright? They…”

Reggie’s eyes widened and he began fiddling with his flannel sleeves. “They didn’t… they didn’t hurt you did they?” He asked, his voice small.

“No, no they didn’t hurt me… not physically at least.” He laughed ruefully. “They’re just being stupid, alright? Ignoring me like they have for the past 3 weeks.” Alex stood up, well aware that at this point band practice was a thing of the past. He walked to the couch, the other three boys in tow.

“Hey!” Luke elbowed Alex’s side before throwing an arm over his shoulders. “That new Green Day album is coming out in like, a week.” He grinned, eyes lighting up. “I’ve been saving up to buy it, and we can use that new cassette player I got for Christmas to listen to it.”

Alex nodded, smiling softly and letting his head relax on the back of the couch. “Yea that sounds great. Promise you won’t listen to it without us?”

“Of course ‘Lex; we all gotta be there to find which songs we’re gonna cover.”

Reggie wrinkled his nose in confusion. “I thought you said we’d moved past being a cover band?”

“It’s Luke, he’ll make an exception for anything if it involves Green Day,” Bobby chuckled.

Several beats of silence passed in which the sun seemed to get increasingly lower in the sky, before Bobby sighed in resignation. “You’re all staying here tonight, aren’t you?”

Luke beamed, clapping Bobby’s shoulders. “You know us so well.”

“Sleepover!” Reggie laughed, pumping a fist in the air. “Does it count as a sleepover if we all basically live here at this point?”

“Shhh ‘Lex, don’t ruin our fun,” Luke responded.

Alex smiled hesitantly. Yea, he was okay.

---

May, 1994

Michael Williams had dark hair brushing the tips of his shoulders, eyes that were almost golden in certain lights and a smile that gave Alex butterflies. Not to mention he was in theater and had a reputation for flipping off the homophobic jocks that were constantly on Alex’s tail. Not that he did it specifically for Alex, but still. The only problem was that talking to cute boys that he hadn’t known since 3rd grade was far from Alex’s strong point.

“Come on Alex!” Luke groaned, sliding into the last open seat at their lunch table. “Just talk to him before I literally combust.” He punctuated his sentence by waving at Alex with a cold french fry.

Alex grumbled something, his face in his arms in a futile attempt to hide the red dusting his cheeks.

“Hey Luke, if you explode because Alex refuses to talk to his crush, can I have your CD’s?” Reggie quipped, a lopsided grin on his face.

Luke gasped in mock offense. “Reginald-!”

“Still not my name.”

“I will be buried with my music,” Luke said. “Both of my guitars too-”

“Even your amp?” Bobby questioned.

“Yes.”

“Seems like a waste of space. Can you even fit all that in a coffin?”

Luke shrugged. “You guys can figure it out. Don’t betray my dying wish.”

Something that would’ve been silence had Luke ever been taught how to chew like a normal person passed over the table, in which Alex’s attention drifted lazily back to Michael Williams, who was chatting enthusiastically with one of the girls in his theater class. Alex didn’t know her name but they had biology together and she never gave him dirty looks, so he liked her.

“10 bucks if you go talk to him,” Bobby said, nudging Alex and waggling his eyebrows.

“No. No,” Alex said. “Not happening.”

“15.”

“Where is this money coming from?” Alex squeaked, although the prospect of $15 was all too tempting. He could get some decent shoes for that.

“20,” Bobby continued, grinning maniacally.

“Dude!” Luke laughed. “How are your parents gonna like you asking for money to fulfill a bet?”

Bobby slapped a hand over Luke’s mouth.

“I’m gonna regret this,” Alex sighed, already moving to stand up.

Reggie giggled like a child and offered a shit-eating grin to Alex, who promptly flipped him off before heading across the cafeteria.

---

December 17, 1994

Alex was screwed. No. Alex was completely fucked. Alex Mercer was likely seconds away from living in a ditch. Because of course it had to be his sister who caught him making out with a guy after school. And of course she was too young to understand why she couldn’t tell Mom and Dad. Because she would’ve done the same if he’d been kissing a girl because kissing is gross and it’s funny to tell your parents that your big brother was kissing someone.

“Hey Mom, guess what Alex did today?” Angie asked, giggling. She was perched on the counter, licking frosting from her fingers while their mother brushed cookie crumbs from her dress. And Alex was frozen at the top of the stairs, crouched down, his heart pounding so loud he was sure it could be heard downstairs. He dug his nails into his palms and prayed that his mother would pretend he didn’t exist when he wanted her to. It was one thing, them knowing. But this? This was something else. Alex’s parents lived on the philosophy that homosexual thoughts got you an eternity in hell, but homosexual actions got you shunned and thrown out. So yea, he was screwed.

“What did Alex do today?” His mother asked, plastering a false smile onto her face, her voice sounding like she was already packing his bags. Alex wanted to get up and run. He wanted to go to his room and jump out the window and fly away. But it was like the sweat on his palms was superglue keeping him stuck to the carpet, and his brain had short-circuited.

Angie laughed again, trying to get it out through her snickering. “Alex was kissing someone today.” She sang, her small feet swinging back and forth, the noise of her heels against the counter like knives in Alex’s ears. “That boy Michael that used to go to our church.” The innocence in her voice made Alex ache.

“Angie.” His mother’s voice was cold now. “Leave please.”

Angie’s brow furrowed in confusion, but she scurried up the stairs anyway, giving Alex a tearful hug on the way because even at ten, she knew that that voice meant trouble. “Sorry ‘Lex. I shouldn’t ‘a told your secret,” She whispered, before sprinting to her room and leaving Alex wondering if he’d get to see her after tonight.

“Alex Mercer, please come downstairs.” Her voice chilled him to the bone, like shards of ice penetrating his skin and seeping into his blood. But he walked down anyway.

Alex tightened the muscles in his hands and feet, willing himself to stay still and planted to the wooden floor, facing his mother head-on, as if the look in her eyes wasn’t terrifying him to the point of tears. But he wouldn’t let her see that she was getting to him, he wouldn’t. So he bit his tongue and counted down from ten inwardly.

“What is this nonsense?” She hissed, reaching out and gripping his forearm, her nails a millimeter away from digging into his skin.

Alex swallowed roughly. “I- I don’t know. Angie’s just… she’s-”

“Don’t lie to me!” His mother snapped. She brought her hand back, curling her fingers in with a look of disgust, as if she’d been touching fire. And then she was speaking again, but Alex couldn’t hear her over the pounding in his ears. He tightened his jaw and shut his eyes momentarily. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

“Get out.”

His eyes snapped open. Alex stood still in front of her, searching her eyes for the slightest bit of remorse. But there was nothing but ice. So he left. He left with tears running down his face and he couldn’t even bring himself to say goodbye to Angie. It wasn’t until he was halfway down the block when he realized that he had nothing but the clothes on his back and a backpack full of everything he could fit, and no where to go. He collapsed on the ground, the cold night air finally hitting him, seeping into his bones. He looked up and wiped his eyes, sniffling. It was odd, the way that the Christmas lights were able to look so beautiful when he felt so broken inside. It felt almost unfair that everything outside of him was moving at a normal pace like nothing had changed. But Alex knew better than that. Everything had changed.

---

These are the people who expressed interest in reading this when I posted about it a few days ago :)

@edgeofgillespie @herequeerandcantdrinkbeer @lookingthroughmirrors

chapter 2

chapter 3

chapter 4

[justa-starrynite]

like me better (Coco Cruz)

A/N: Good afternoon everyone! This is Bea! I’m back with another installment for our fall series! This one is for Coco! I’ve never written for Coco, so I hope I did him some justice!

Megan and I would like to thank you for all the love you’ve been giving us! We truly appreciate it and we love giving you all some content to read. 

We love you all!

Masterlist

Word count: 1654

We’re currently working on the tag list! If you would like to be added, please message us or drop a comment!

CREDITS TO THE ORIGINAL GIF MAKER!

Johnny Coco Cruz never thought he deserved anything. 

At a young age, he wasn’t exactly nurtured by his mother. The earliest memory he had of his mother was when he would watch men come in and out of their apartment, his sisters trying to shield him away from her work. 

His eldest siblings Elma and Selena, they were decent. 

But as soon as they had the opportunity to leave Celia’s home, they left.

At an early age, he recalled that he never called Celia mom, at least not when he spoke of her with his friends. He would rarely refer to her as his mother. But till he was eighteen, he called her mother.

Till he got in the Marines and told her she could fuck herself.

He had an ounce of respect for her, just due to the fact she birthed him, but otherwise, Coco stopped caring about his mother way before than he could remember.

Due to his tumultuous relationship with Celia, he chose to not be a part of his kids life, Letty and his son, Leo. He wanted Letty to be given up for adoption as her mother was no better than him, but Celia adopted her at her faux reasoning of getting a second chance as a mother. 

Coco never believed that and he was correct.

It was for welfare.

He finally found his place in the Marines, the discipline and skills he learned didn’t prepare him for life outside of the military, but it prepared him to contribute to his family.

The Mayans MC.

A place where people who didn’t belong anywhere fit. 

A place where Coco was able to find a family he never knew he needed.

Johnny Coco Cruz never thought he deserved anything.

Not until he met you.

You were a tattoo artist for one of the shops the club frequents. It was rare for you to do a piece for any of the members since you were in high demand and the shop owner, your father, was one of the few people the MC feared.

A gentle man that would make no hesitation to kill for you.

Your father had numerous stories going around about him, but the most prominent seemed to be him being a former gang leader who reformed.

Your father was never part of a gang, he was a firefighter once upon a time and now, he was a tattoo shop owner.

When Coco first laid his eyes upon you, you were leaving the shop as he and Riz waited for one of your co-workers to finish a piece on Creeper. 

You turned towards them, your glasses slightly slipping down the bridge of your nose. A small smile to greet your father’s favorite customers appeared on your face, your eyes lingering at Coco before walking out.

And that was the start.

Coco never tried to talk to you, you were too pure for him.

Too good.

So kept his distance because nothing ever goes well for him and he was almost certain that nothing would ever happen with you.

But then you worked on a piece for him and his life, well his self-hatred due to past trauma began to change.

“Damn, so you punched him on the face?” Coco chuckled, trying to contain his laughter since he didn’t want to ruin the piece you were doing on him.

“Listen, he was messing with my baby sister, of course I did. Let’s be honest he fared better with me cause my dad would have killed him.” You ran the needle along Coco’s skin, admiring the previous work he had done.

“Damn mami, remind me never to mess with you.” Coco smirked.

“I don’t think you’ll need a reminder, but I got you Coco Cruz.”

From there, your relationship evolved. You two started off as friends and in six months, Coco won you over, which wasn’t hard since you had a crush on Coco since he stepped foot inside your father’s shop. You were shy and it’s not like they were exactly approachable.

But when you got to know these men better, you realized they were definitely hardened men who could kill people in a bat of an eye, but, they were also kind hearted men.

There was hardly any black and white in the world.

So many grey areas were what was had instead.

You and Coco have been together for four years now and as much as Coco didn’t think it would last, your relationship would surprise him instead.

Coco was never a big fan of himself.

He thought he was worthless, a scum and he was making up for past grievances by keeping to himself and not ruining others’ lives, like his children.

But you showed him that he was more than that.

Traditions he used to scoff at were now becoming things he looked forward to.

New year’s celebration.

Christmas celebration

Thanksgiving celebration

And Halloween.

You absolutely loved fall and as soon as it was October, you were decorating the house you two shared. 

This was the second year in a row that you were decorating the house and if Coco was honest, he looked forward for the rest of the years you would be doing this.

He realized early he wasn’t willing to let you go. He was in love with you and you made him better.

Even if you forced him to drink a pumpkin spice latte.

Currently, you, Letty and Coco were at the pumpkin patch, looking for three pumpkins that you three could carve together.

Another thing Coco appreciated was how you accepted every aspect of his life. The club was going to be hard, at least he thought so, but you were part of this band of misfits before you two even dated.

But then Letty came and he became lost.

He couldn’t ruin her life.

But then your words brought him down.

“I know you feel that you’re a terrible man, one who ruins anyone’s life when you touch them, but that’s not true. You made my life better. The best thing about life is that everyone gets a second chance, this is it for you and Letty, take it.”

He took your advice and he was incredibly glad he did so. 

You gave him the strength to push the doubts away and give Letty the life she never had with Celia. You and Letty immediately got along and ever since then, you three were a little happy family.

Coco watched as you and Letty took your time picking the pumpkins. He never understood what exactly you were looking for, but that victorious smile on your face always made the question fade away.

“Coco, are you just going to stand there or are you at least going to pretend and help us pick?” You teased your fiancé as you playfully narrowed your eyes at him.

Coco chuckled. “For what? You two got it handled.”

“Your input would be nice.” You pouted.

“Okay mami, I got it.”

You three picked your pumpkins and just as you were all going to go home, Bishop called. Coco had taken his bike, meeting you after his shift at the yard.

“I’m sorry reina,” Coco frowned.

“It’s okay, I get it. We can do it later.” You offered him a smile, understanding the importance of the club. “Letty and I can go shopping for Halloween costumes.”

Coco took his wallet out to give you some cash, but you shook your head. 

“Don't be silly, I got it.” You pressed your lips on Coco’s and hugged him. “Be careful.”

Letty hugged him as well. He got on his bike, glancing at his mirror every once in a while till you both were out of his range.

Coco never cared about losing his life when going to do something for the club, but now, he had something to live for.

Coco came home later that night with Letty asleep and you sketching on the couch. He saw the relief come over your face and he had to smile at that.

“Hello mi amor.” He dropped a kiss on your lips.

“Hey baby, everything okay?” You questioned.

“Yes, just usual bullshit.” The rebels were ambitious and had a good cause, but at times, Coco questioned just how great the cause was. 

You nodded, continuing to sketch, feeling at ease with Coco home. 

Coco watched you, the sense of calmness that he felt whenever he was with you was something he craved for as long as he’s known you. He always waited for the rug under his feet to be pulled, knowing you wouldn’t stay with him for much longer, but for some reason, you’ve stayed.

And with how much he loves you, he would never want you to walk away.

“I love you.” Coco blurted out of nowhere.

The way your eye softened made his heart skip a beat, the blush on your cheeks further making his heart rate race.

“I love you too. Everything okay?” You closed your sketchbook then, placing it on the coffee table. You sat on his lap, his arms wrapping around you.

“Yes, everything is good baby.” Coco never liked himself too much. Due to the verbal abuse from Celia, his self esteem wasn’t the best even though he’s been working on it. He craved the assurance that he was enough, that he was good enough. 

He never had a true family either.

But it was changing with you.

He became a part of your family. You had him wanting something more in life. You gave him the strength to be there for Letty. 

“Just realized something.”

You raised an eyebrow, running your fingers through his hair. “And what’s that?”

“I like me better when I’m with you.” 

Johnny Coco Cruz never thought he deserved anything.

He definitely didn’t like himself much.

But being with you, growing with you, he found himself liking himself better.