#i just reread it today and i had to make this moodboard

[boxfullaturtles]

I’m Bored and Anxious So I Slapped Together a List of Fan Fic Writer Asks

1. Share a song that makes you think of [fic title] 2. Do you read/reread your own fics? 3. What's your favorite fic that you've written? 4. How many WIPs do you have right now? 5. What's a fic idea you've had that you will never write? 6. Are there any fics from others you reread all the time? 7. How many ideas for fics do you have right now? 8. What project(s) are you currently working on? 9. Do you write every day? If you wrote today, share a sentence of what you’ve written! 10. Is there a fic that got a different response than you were expecting? 11. Do you have specific playlists for writing fics? 12. Do you have a playlist for your current WIP(s)? Share it! 13. How much planning do you do before writing? 14. If you could see one of your fics adapted into a visual medium, such as comic or film, which fan fic would you pick? 15. How do you come up with titles for your fics/chapters? 16. At what point in the process do you come up with titles? 17. What's something you've learned about while doing research for a fic? 18. What's one of your favorite lines you've written in a fic? 19. Give us a small teaser from one of your WIPs. 20. What's a favorite title for a fic you've written? 21. Have you ever deleted an entire scene after spending hours laboring over it? If so, why? 22. Do you know how your fic will end before you start writing? 23. How do you choose where to end a chapter (if you have multi-chapter works)? 24. Share a moodboard for (one of) your current WIP(s). 25. Have you ever upset yourself with your own writing? 26. Is there something you've written that you would never want your family to see? 27. Is there a fic you were nervous to post/share? Why? 28. Have you ever tagged a fic “Dead Dove: Do Not Eat”? 29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.) 30. Ask anything!

[navybrat817]

Sweet and Strong

Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x Baker!Female Reader Summary: You stop by the parlor to drop off some treats. Word Count: Over 2.3k Warnings: Fluff, flir-ting, slight insecurity if you squint, slight feels (it's me), Tess is a real one, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?) Graphics talent and thanks: Banner - @sgt-seabass, Divider - @firefly-graphics, Bucky edit - Nix, Moodboard - yours truly A/N: More Hottie and Sugar from my Sin on Skin AU.❤️ Beta read by @whisperlullaby , so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You did your best not to let your mind wander during the work day, but Bucky hadn’t left your thoughts since he dropped you off at your place. A dopey smile formed on your face more times than you could count. The tattoo artist was your dream come true. Someone who looked like they could destroy everything in their path, but treated you with such care.

And he said yes to a date with you.

How does a man like him exist?

“Careful,” Tess said, nudging you to the side so she could take a cookie from the case. “Keep making that happy face and it’ll get stuck that way.”

“Is that a bad thing?” you smiled, making sure there were no customers looking as you typed a quick message to Bucky on your phone.

“Hope you have a good day, Hottie.”

After a moment, you cringed and put the device away. Though Bucky gave you his number after he dropped you off, you didn’t message him immediately. Waiting until today was better because enough time had passed, but was the text too casual? Not casual enough? Was it clingy to message him before you had your date?

Why am I overthinking this?

“If you’re smiling because of Bucky, it’s a very good thing. Especially after what he did to help you. I think he should get a permanent discount,” Tess said, making you raise an eyebrow when you didn’t detect a hint of sarcasm in her tone. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

“We talked about this,” you gently reminded her when she pouted, a look that told you she was still upset. “Please, stop apologizing. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

When Tess heard that Richard ambushed you after closing, she beat herself up for not being there. You assured her it wasn’t her fault that your ex showed up. She was thankful you were okay and that Bucky, and everyone else in the shop, stood up for you. She also added that if she saw Richard sniffing around the place that she’d kick him in the nuts.

Bucky assured you he wouldn’t come around and you believed him.

“I’m just sorry I didn’t see him get put in his place. Been a long time coming,” she said, a bit of mischief back in her eyes as she leaned against the counter to smile at you. “And I’m bummed I missed that kiss.”

“Why did I tell you about that?” you asked, your cheeks hot as you recalled the moment Bucky’s lip touched yours. If you closed your eyes, you could almost feel him kissing you again. The memory made your heart swell.

As if on cue, your phone went off.

“Day’s better now that I’ve heard from you, Sugar. Can’t wait for our date. Planned something special.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you reread the message and hugged the device to your chest. You weren't sure how many women Bucky dated or how many special dates he planned before you. The thought of it being a high number didn't make your stomach sink as you expected. What mattered was that the two of you were taking a chance on each other.

And even though you technically asked him out, he took the time to plan something for you. When was the last time a guy did anything remotely nice for you without expecting something in return? Why had you settled in the past for less than what you deserved?

“You told me because we’re best friends,” Tess answered with a smirk when you looked her way. “Is that him?”

“Yeah, it’s him,” you smiled, showing her the message. “I wonder what he has planned.”

“Whatever it is, you better give all the dirty details when he dicks you down. And not to be graphic, but I bet he eats pussy like-"

“Tess!" you groaned, praying the nearby customers weren’t listening. But, god, if you hadn’t thought about what he’d be like in bed. He’d be so good to you. “Let’s try and be professional.”

“Professional, my ass. I’m not the one flirting with the hunk or making eyes at him every time he steps into the shop,” she pointed out.

Fair.

“And, look, I’m not saying you have to get laid on the first date, but I am saying you have to let him in your pants at some point,” she said, laughing as you tossed a towel at her face.

You laughed, too, and wondered just how the night would go. If you put out on the first date, would he think you were easy? If you waited too long, would he move on? You were overthinking again, but you couldn't help it. You really liked him.

He likes me, too, so I must be doing something right.

“What do you get out of it if I let him in my pants?” you asked curiously.

Tess placed a hand on your shoulder and squeezed. “I get to keep seeing you happy, which you have every right to be."

"Thanks," you smiled, a wave of fondness crashing over you. The two of you saw each other go through many ups and downs of life. She deserved the world and it meant a lot that she wanted that for you, too. "Is it too much if I run some treats over for him? Especially since I just texted him?"

Bringing a small selection of baked goods for Bucky and the guys would be a small way to thank them for defending you. Deep down, it was also an excuse to see him before your date. You hoped it wasn't too obvious.

"The guy has visited the shop for all of your shifts since he first came in. So, no, it isn't too much if you surprise him and send something his way. He might like it."

"I'll be quick," you promised, selecting some of the best treats from the case, including one with little hearts.

"Take your time. Jill and I can handle this," she smiled as if she sensed your giddiness. "Go treat your man."

"He isn't my man yet," you teased.

But I'm already his girl.

"Yeah, he is," Tess winked, giving you a gentle nudge. "Now go."

It didn't take you long to cross the street to the parlor and thankfully you didn't drop the box. You hoped you looked decent. Well, as much as you could during a work day. At least you had a cute apron on.

"Hi! Welcome to Sin on Skin!" Jake said as you walked through the door. "Sugar! It's you!"

You held back a laugh when his voice echoed. "Yeah, it's me," you smiled, holding up the box. "I wanted to drop these off Bucky and the rest of you, if that's okay?"

"You brought us food?!" he asked, leaning on his arms to look over the counter. "Hold on. Lemme grab him."

"You sure? If he's with a client…" you trailed off when Jake dashed away from the counter.

You took a moment to look around again, your gaze settling on an intricate flower tattoo. Seeing the place without the fear of your ex following you made it even brighter than before. Like your shop, it was expressive and inviting. Bucky likely put as much love into it as you did with yours.

"That was my first piece."

You tore your gaze away from the wall to find Bucky beside you, a dopey smile back on your face. There was only a small amount of space between you and your heart raced as you looked him over, the large man clad in his usual tight shirt and jeans. He had his hair pulled back and you resisted the urge to tuck a few strands back that came loose.

He would manage to look sexy as hell with latex gloves on.

"It's beautiful," you said honestly.

"Thanks. She's a good friend and still a client of mine. So is her husband," he smiled gently. "I'm glad you stopped by."

"Me, too," you smiled back, holding up the box in your hands. "I just wanted to say thanks again to you and the guys for sticking up for me. It isn't much, but I hope you all enjoy them."

"Oh." A slight frown formed on his face when you handed him the treats. "You know you don't have to give us these, right? We didn't do it expecting you to give us anything in return and I'm sure as hell not going to let anyone speak to you the way that prick did."

You furrowed your brows a bit, even as you nearly swooned at his protectiveness. Had you upset him? "I know I don't have to," you said, clearing your throat. Why did the thought of them defending you just for being good guys make you emotional? "I just wanted to do something nice for you."

Was this a bad idea?

You let out a breath when he smiled again. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to make sure you didn't feel obligated," he said, touching your arm. Even with the glove, the touch sent heat between your thighs. "It's a very sweet gesture, Sugar. Thank you."

"You're welcome," you said, satisfied that he wasn't unhappy with the small gift. "And I'll admit. I also stopped by because I wanted to see you before our date," you added.

"You did?" he smirked, bringing warmth to your cheeks as you nodded. "While we're admitting things to each other, I've been watching the door and hoping you'd stop in. I even dreamt about you when I took a nap."

"No, you didn't," you giggled, a sense of power and elatedness filling you that his pull to you was that strong.

"I swear. I don't think Steve will let me live that down" he chuckled. You wondered what exactly he dreamt about. Was it passionate? Intense? "Can't get you outta my mind. And, frankly, I don't want to."

Oh.

You didn't think he could make your heart beat any faster, but he continued to surprise you. There was no shame or timidness in his tone or his stare. It was steadfast and true, like he wasn't afraid to wear his heart on his sleeve with you. If he could be vulnerable and open with you this way, you could do the same in return.

Go big or go home, right?

"I can't stop thinking about you either," you told him, proud that your voice didn't waver.

"You can't?" he whispered and you suddenly didn't like the box between your bodies. It made him feel too far away.

"No, I can't," you whispered back, gazing into his blue eyes. "I waited to text you because I didn't want it to be too soon. And even though I don't know where you're taking me on our date, I already have the perfect sundress laid out and ready to go."

"You can text me as much as you want. I don't care what time of day," he assured you before his eyes lit up mischievously, like he knew something you didn't. "And a sundress is fucking perfect, but no asking for hints about our date"

"Not even a little one? Please?" you asked, giving him what you hoped was a cute pout. You didn't actually want him to tell you because you wanted him to surprise you, but you hoped you looked enticing.

Bucky slowly licked his lips and shook his head. If he was trying to look hot, he more than succeeded. If he wasn't, did he have any idea what that teasing motion of his tongue did to you? "I'm tempted to tell you and I'm very tempted to kiss you right now, but no. No hints. I need to stay strong."

I'm very tempted to kiss you, too.

"Fine, Hottie. I'll be good," you teased, pouting again. "For now."

Bucky moved the box beside him so he could step closer, his eyes darker than before. "You wanna be good for me?"

Yes, sir.

"Yes," you answered, leaving out the "sir" that echoed in your mind and shivering as he continued to stare. Before you could say anything more, you noticed that the shop had gone quiet. You leaned over to look past Bucky and giggled when you saw the crew staring, taking you out of the moment. Steve and Hal both had knowing smirks on their faces, but no way could they have heard your conversation. "Hope you enjoy the treats!"

"Oh, we will," Hal winked. "What about you, Bucky? You gonna enjoy your treat?"

"Get back to work!" Bucky called back before he smiled disappointedly. "Speaking of, I should, too. I think my client gave me enough of a break."

"Yeah, I need to get back," you said. You didn't want to leave Tess and Jill hanging. "I hope you have a good rest of the day."

"You, too," he said as you went to the door. "Be good for me until I see you again."

Fuck.

"Only if you're good for me," you smiled over your shoulder, catching his surprised smirk before the door shut.

You took a breath, allowing the breeze to cool you off. Maybe a cold shower would do a better job. You smiled as your phone went off, expecting a teasing text from Tess. It caught you off guard when "Mom" popped up.

Well, that can't be good if she's texting me. God, did she somehow hear about Richard? The last thing I need is a lecture.

Instead of opening the message, you tucked your phone away. You needed to get back to work and you had a date to look forward to. You wouldn't allow your mom to sour your mood because Tess was right.

You had the right to be happy.

No ruining this upcoming date, mom! Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[lookingfts]

hello!! omg so happy you’re on tumblr!

love love love every kanthony fic you write. i get an email that you’ve posted and will literally get giddy thinking about going home and reading it. truly you can do no wrong! my favorites are definitely hush (i reread this constantly actually just finished a reread earlier today) and the you were my rock never my stepping stone series (my roman empire is that little “no” next to complete on the series page…. if you do ever write a part 4 i may cry).

anyways! just needed to let you know how obsessed with your work i am. thank you for providing me with endless hours of good fic. just picture me as the gordon ramsay meme; finally some good fucking fic!

Thank you so so much! Gosh, it's crazy for any of my work to be thought of as someone's roman empire. 😂

I definitely CANNOT promise that this will ever be completed, but I once toyed with another part to that series about their wedding night, so please enjoy this snippet and the moodboard I made for it forever ago. (Though I may be rethinking Kate's outfit after seeing her in that incredible red and gold ensemble...)

--

Marriage had been so many things to Anthony over the years.

As a child, a given – marriage and kids were just what people did, especially Edmund and Violet, by far the most enamored couple among all his friends’ parents. As a teenager, it was a burden, it was heartache, it was ghosts left behind. He swore to avoid it, convinced that one of his brothers – or hell, his sisters – was perfectly capable of carrying on the Bridgerton name.

And then, Kate.

It was too easy to want her, too easy to want things with her that he’d dismissed years ago. Maybe the moment he pieced together that he loved her, he knew he would marry her, too. He wanted a marriage with her, a commitment to her, and if Kate hadn’t wanted the same, Anthony was sure he would have gone the rest of his life without ever considering it again.

But she had wanted it. She said yes at Daphne’s party as he desperately laid out his hopes for the future, and she said yes again when he dropped to one knee a few months later to make it official, and she said yes five hours ago when the officiant asked Kate to bind her life to his.

And now Kate was his wife, his partner, though if Anthony was being honest, she’d been both of those things in his mind for much longer.

“It’s rude to stare,” Kate said, a touch of amusement in her voice.

[johaerys-writes]

Hi, I was wondering today how you stay motivated with writing? Like is there anything - you think - that you do that helps with getting the writing juices to flow? Does writing come easier for you at certain times and harder at other times?

Hello anon, your question has come at exactly the right time, i.e. when I'm really struggling with motivation and inspiration ngl 😅 Once again, life has been lifing very hard recently and I've been struggling to catch up with everything, let alone writing. I think that sometimes the best thing you can do is to let things take their course, if the words are absolutely not coming then you can't force them. Resting or doing something else until inspiration comes back is maybe what you need.

But if we're talking about general motivation and how to maintain momentum in order to finish a story, I'm afraid that I don't have any groundbreaking advice other than being consistent. So make writing part of your routine, even if it's a couple hundred words in a sitting. I regularly carve out time to write even when I'm not 100% feeling it, and sometimes that time is taken up by doing research (I will NOT call it procrastinating lmao), rearranging my playlist for the specific fic or just rereading what I've already written and making minor edits. But having this specific time every day or every few days that is dedicated to writing and writing-related things is much better for motivation than the random bout of inspiration that will make you write 5k words in a day. Those are few and far between in my experience.

As for getting the writing juices flowing when I've finally sat down and removed any other distractions: that usually differs from day to day. Most of the time listening to music, a specific song or playlist that I have associated with the story, really helps me get in the groove. For Twin Flames for instance I had the entire Blood Moon album by RY X on repeat, and I still associate it strongly with that world/story. For Disasters, I had a specific song for each chapter and that helped tremendously for getting into the right headspace. If music isn't your thing then maybe you're more of a visual type, so making moodboards on pinterest or somewhere else can really help (it can also be a huge timesuck though LOL so tread carefully). Something else I also do is reading the last chapter I've written and immersing myself into the world and the characters, and that often makes the transition into a new chapter easier.

Another thing that really motivates me is having those scenes in a story that I absolutely have to write, even if it takes me 50k to get to them lol. I think that's what usually pushes me forward especially with longer stories, having those scenes sprinkled out at various points in the story and also making sure that I have something to look forward to towards the end, so that I can make sure to finish them. (e.g. while I was writing the last chapter of Disasters, I made sure to have Patroclus fuck Achilles in a dress at the very end of the fic because it was my reward for getting myself through the absolute heartbreak that it was to finish it 😩 I'd been daydreaming about that scene for ages so I was willing to drag myself through all the rest just to make sure I got that in)

You also asked if writing comes easier to me some times rather than others, and I honestly don't think that I have a specific time of day I usually write. Basically I just write whenever I have time lol. If I have nothing else to do on that day I prefer to write in the evening when there are as few distractions as possible and it's when I'm most relaxed and ready to tackle whatever scene I have in mind. My favourite is when I have the day off and I know that I can write or think about my stories for as many hours as I want, even when I don't end up writing that many words. Writing while on the go (on the bus or the train) is what I've been doing for most of this year and the last because I have a super long daily commute, and I also used to love going to the coffee shop near my house to write, but lately I've been so burned out and struggling with sensory overload that it's been really hard to focus when there's noise or people around me even when I'm wearing headphones. So I basically live for the weekends when I can lock myself in my study and write in complete silence lol.

[chronicvagabonds]

hi, i'm having to reread this because the first readthrough left me with such toothrot that i had to get three cavities filled (does that make sense? idk. but it's true) and my notes are made up of incoherent keysmashing and simping so.. on a more serious note, it's only been three days.. but there's not one day i didn't think back on this and didn't get flustered.. normally fluff doesn't even get to me THAT much but this was on another level.. 🦷🎀

[spoilers ahead]

this moodboard first and foremost.. MWAH CHEF'S KISS!! 🧑‍🍳💋 the vibes are immaculate, the greens and yellows from the fauna with the blues and pinks from the sunset, cromnch

i'm just going to imagine mingi smells like his nacific notes (cedarwood, floral) bc it seems so fitting 😌

not the biggest heat fan but i love taking walks on summer evenings, when the warmth still clings to your sunkissed skin but there's a gentle breeze and you can hear cicadas and crickets.. this fic clearly made me reminisce

mingi shooing away reader's (male) students like he couldn't handle hearing others give them compliments before he can hehehehe

"you made it" - "did you think i wouldn't?" - "i was hoping you would, actually." ABSOLUTE GAAAAME!!

STOP RIGHT NOW WITH THE PREVIOUS LITTLE ACTS OF SERVICES AND STEALING GLANCES AND GIFTS OMGLMGGKM 🫠 it's like every love language all at once

us? 👊💢👊💢👊 SAY IT WITH YOUR CHEST!

you didn’t expect his eyes to travel all over your face and his lips to curve into a smirk ..remember when mingi told fans to always make eye contact, even when he eventually loses the staring contest.. LORD

me who almost became an english professor now reading fiction in my free time 🧑‍🦯

mingi would be THE one to pick up on someone's mood change and to be THE one to find a way to help someone without making them feel exposed or uncomfortable

just imagining reader taking candid pics of everyone but when mingi catches them they can't help but pretend to be taking pictures of the sky instead heheh

ah yes, wonka mingi with his shades would make reader feel less shy when he's standing a breath away from them ☝️🤓

“do i seem intimidating to you too?” [nervous giggles intensify] the stars know all our secrets

what i wouldn't give to have a night of stargazing with mingi, hours of deep talk, reminiscing memories and re-processing decisions we have made in our life that made us the person we are today 🥺

MINGIS PRONOUNS ARE HIS/TORY CAWCAAWCAW 🐦‍⬛

OH WE'RE HOLDING HANDS AND!! WE'RE ON FIRST NAME BASIS WHOA

“can’t we stay like this even when we go back home?” my heart dropped for a second at the angst/hurt potential

“i don’t think i would have to look for stars” mingi said, looking right at you

you just wanted him all to yourself. was it selfish of you? yes. absolutely. but did you care? nope. GO GET YOUR MAN!!!

“hmm… are you sick of watching the stars with me?” - “i thought by now you knew that i never watched the stars.”

a sky full of stars and he was staring at her by atticus

if i were a star, i would have fallen for you, everytime you look at the sky by the pacified soul

fanfiction so good it makes me think of poetry

you know damn well, he's going to nag them at every opportunity back on school grounds, trying to catch them off-guard when he asks how long they've liked him for

🗣️ HORIZON MENTION!

oh lord, mingi let got of ALL his inhibitions god damn

KHEKHHHEKEHEHEEHEJJEKEKEEKEEEEHKEHHEEEE :D

Wave

teacher!mingi x teacher!reader

summer camp/school trip au

word count: 7.8k

genre: fluffy stuff, just tooth rotting fluff for once

synopsis: when you suggest the idea of a one week trip to give the seniors a little break before their exams, you find yourself paired with mingi as the teachers in charge of your group of students, to your surprise and satisfaction. you've had your eye on him for quite a while- but so has mingi. he proves that it isn't too late for a highschool sweetheart - him.

manager-nim: @eightmakesonebraincell (we formally salute all fluff writers bc this shit was tough)

when you heard you were accepted as a part of the crew who would be accompanying students on a one week road trip 

not only were you beyond relieved because you needed a break so bad

but you were also way too curious about who else made it into the crew

it hadn’t been long since you started teaching at eden high school

but it was the quickest you found your place as an english teacher

it was surprising how well you got along with the staff here considering your not-so-excellent experience at your previous school

and the students here were just students, yes, just like everywhere but

you were pretty sure this was the most adored you had been

perhaps because you were in charge of the seniors who really needed someone like you- a person they could confide their problems and concerns in

a person who would offer solutions instead of telling them that it was just a fleeting worry

a person who would notice when they were beyond exhausted with the pressure of being, well, a senior

you remember how hard it was when it was your time and you wouldn’t want your students to go through the same thing

which was why you once suggested to mr. kim that perhaps the students would appreciate a trip

it was just a casual observation you had made and when mr. kim said ‘perhaps they really need it’, you weren’t sure if he was being serious

but turns out that he was, and the preparations began

not all the teachers could join but you had to be a part of it, mr. kim said, since you suggested it in the first place

you got so busy with assuring the students that they would have fun and they had nothing to worry about

talking to their parents in case they were being reluctant to send their kid, thinking it was a waste of time

convincing the students who were taking their studies way too seriously that they needed this- they really didn’t want to be burned out when exams would be near

that it slipped your mind- another suggestion for mr. kim to take mr. song along

mr. song mingi- the history teacher- the one who made history quite fun to learn

you had specifically planned with the staff- including him- to visit a few historical sights on the road-trip

however, he wasn’t the only history teacher here so you weren’t sure if he would be tagging along

and you never got the chance to ask him

(or even if you did, you were too shy)

but the day finally came

way too early in the morning when even the sun was asleep, you were standing by the bus counting the heads

almost all of your students made it- it was a bummer that some couldn’t but you promised to take them out for dinner after you were back

it was the least you could do for them

the girls were all over you, finding your casual style pretty intriguing

they had only ever seen you in professional clothing, tied hair and reading glasses on the bridge of your nose

so with your hair down, shades hanging by the neckline of your light blue sundress

the girls were pleased, yes, but the boys couldn’t help but share the sentiment too

“miss y/n, you should wear dresses more often!”

“light blue is your colour!”

“your hair looks so good-”

“come on now,” a familiar voice boomed and if you thought the flood of compliments from your students was making you smile

the smile changed into a grin, almost a giggle when you turned to the source

the source being none other than song mingi- in a loose sleeveless white shirt with a denim outerwear and matching jeans

song mingi may be a ‘boring history teacher’ like you sometimes teased him

but that man has got impeccable style

“stop flattering poor miss y/n and find your seats, come on!”

the students laughed but obeyed and the class pres started the roll call

and you felt a little somersault in your stomach when you locked eyes with mingi

“you made it”

he grinned back. “did you think i wouldn’t?”

“i was hoping you would, actually.”

and that took mingi off guard

you weren’t always forward with what you said unlike him and he found you a bit hard to read sometimes

and oftentimes, you surprised him with your actions or your words, just like you did now

but mingi knew when to make something out of an opportunity

“well, you’re stuck being paired with the boring old history teacher. hope you don’t mind.”

“i never called you old, though,” you told him, smiling to yourself before following the guard’s orders and getting on the bus

.

mingi, of course, sat next to you, the only seat available

and you marvelled at the turn of events

because how long had you wished for some sort of proximity to happen?

it wasn’t easy to be alone in the school with him- not that you wanted to do anything alone with him, but

sometimes, you thought, it would have been nice if you got one-to-one interaction with him that wasn’t related to grading each other’s papers 

or sharing pointers about the next exam

sometimes, he would find you alone with your head in your hands

and he would decide not to disturb you and leave a little something for you near your desk for you to spot if you, well, got your head out of your hands

a candy or a ‘cheer up!’ note

you would also find him alone in some classroom sometimes

you noticed he preferred to be alone at times so you knew to look in his classroom first instead of the staff room

he would be so absorbed in whatever he was doing

that you would simply watch him until he felt your gaze burning into his skin

and then you would pretend to have been passing by 

and of course you ‘accidentally’ bought two of whatever you were going to snack on

mingi would offer you to join him but most of the times, you let him be

but sometimes, if the staff room was too noisy, you would join him

and the two of you would sit at opposite ends of the classroom doing your own work

(while secretly stealing glances but nobody needed to know that)

so now that you finally got to be alone with him

ignoring the twenty-some noisy children in the back- they could be considered background noise

you couldn’t help but play with your fingers

the bus started and mingi initiated conversation

telling you who was paired with who

each bus had at least one male and one female teacher and only two out of the four buses had two teachers

the other being jongho and gyeoul

“ah, gyeoul is going to forget she’s a teacher. i bet she’ll be sitting with the students playing uno with them.”

“jongho is going to drive the kids away with his dad jokes,” mingi tsk-ed. “but guess the most interesting pairing?”

us?

“hongjoong, wooyoung and yuqi.”

“no way!” you actually laughed out loud this time. “hongjoong’s going to regret ever planning this trip.”

“you bet,” he scoffed. “seonghwa, mina and eunha are in the other bus.”

“all the calm ones?”

“i switched with seonghwa, actually,” he admitted and you raised a brow. “seonghwa gets along with them. i get along with you. we might as well have a good time too, now that we’re here, right?”

right.

he switched to be with you

“you sure you won’t regret that decision?”

you didn’t expect his eyes to travel all over your face and his lips to curve into a smirk

“i’m sure.”

and that was your cue to check on your students

you took a round, making sure everyone was comfortable and told them all to just take a nap

there wasn’t anything interesting going to happen for a good few hours

lucky for you, the kids were sleepy

so the bus fell quiet, the driver assuring you that you both could relax too- there was another driver to keep him company anyway

so you asked mingi if he was sleepy

“not yet. are you?”

“not yet,” you confirmed.

“are you comfortable? do you need anything?”

you relaxed back, shoulder to shoulder with mingi, a small blanket on your lap. “i’m good. do you need anything?”

“not for now, nope,” he took a deep breath. “how long has it been since your last trip?”

.

and that was how you found yourself actually relaxing and talking to him

you told him your last trip was a while ago with your family

you didn’t want to count school trips but you told him about that too

and he told you about his experiences

just like that, you got to know each other a little better

details you wouldn’t have shared otherwise

from random facts about each other:

“i used to love reading. i became an english teacher because i would consume books like nothing else. but i haven’t read a new book in about a year.”

“i hated the idea of being a history major until one of my professors started using storytelling as a way to get us to learn about the world. i still remember the stories he’d make up.”

to gossip:

“i think i saw wooyoung checking out eunha earlier”

“don’t you think mina’s got a thing for seonghwa?”

somewhere between all of that, you got too sleepy to continue talking

you didn’t realise when you dozed off but when you woke up with a weight on your side

your heart almost stopped when you realised it was mingi resting his head against your shoulder

and quite comfortably at that

you realised you may have been resting your face on his head too

and the current position with your neck upright was sending a painful wave down your shoulder

so you decided to give in, checking the time- you could sleep for another hour

you went back to resting your face on top of his head, the bubbly smell of his shampoo lulling you right back to sleep

you woke up when you felt the bus stop and when you groggily lifted your head

you realised that mingi had been awake for quite some while, using his phone

but he never moved because you were using his head as a pillow

“oh my god,” you said, hiding your face in your hands so he wouldn’t see your flaming cheeks. “i’m sorry, i didn’t realise-”

“it’s okay,” mingi chuckled, waving his hand in dismissal. “i’m to blame too.”

you looked at him to make sure it was really okay and when he said, “your snores are cute” you chucked your blanket at him and looked around

you were making a quick stop at a rest area

you woke the kids up and told them now was the time to get snacks or use the toilet

you met up with the teachers to have coffee, everyone in good spirits having woken up from their naps

the wind already felt different and fresh now that you were a few hundred miles away from the city

with newfound energy, you all got back into your buses and that was when the fun started-

for the kids.

it was suddenly too lively and noisy, loud music blasted in the bus and a few kids showing off their dance moves, the rest cheering them on

you clapped along, reminiscing about your own highschool time

soon, you reached the first town on your list- a town known for its historical ruins

though the kids had been complaining about visiting ruins- what’s there to learn about ruins?

you assured them the trip would only get better and you kept the ‘boring’ sites for the first few days

because you wanted to end the trip on a cheerful note- the beach

as the kids crowded and started following the teachers, you took note of their complaints and unsatisfied grunts

and though panic started bubbling in your heart- maybe you shouldn’t have put this town on the list? all your anxieties faded away when a certain history teacher stepped in to save the day

“alright, remember when i told you guys about the spirit of the exiled princess that haunts a certain town? that people spot in the forest sometimes?”

“is the spirit pretty?” a boy asked, earning a bunch of snickers from the crowd

but the way mingi smirked made them all shut up

“i guess you’ll find out soon.”

you winced when the kids burst into a chorus of cheers or frightened screams and the teachers shared a good laugh at how mingi handled this

“remember- if you find a four-leaf clover, the spirit might spare you!”

and as mingi guided them along the town, sharing fun facts about the sites, the kids kept their eyes trained on the ground in chances of finding the lucky leaf

really, it was worse than a needle in a haystack

.

after visiting a few sites, you found yourselves in the heart of the town, at a food street

all the class presidents were instructed to make sure the kids stay in sight and that they were free to go eat whatever they wanted

the kids were simply famished and just wanted those corn dogs and fish cakes

the staff took a table in the centre and you were glad that it was a weekday today- apart from a few people, you were the only ones here

you all got some noodles and double checked on your accommodations- it was supposed to rain so you wanted to check-in before dark

just like that, it was time to go find shelter

you stuck with your group of students like every other teacher 

and when you reached the lodge, you made sure everyone went to their rooms before finding your own that you were to share with the female staff

the rest of the girls were already there, removing their makeup and stretching. you smiled as you followed suit

“this trip is exactly what i needed,” yuqi slumped down on the mattress as she said. “even though today was a bit boring, the weather makes up for it.”

“well, the night isn’t over yet,” gyeoul smiled mischievously. “it doesn’t have to end on a boring note.”

she came up with the genius idea of having drinks in the backyard with the boys

mina sighed in disappointment because if gyeoul had told her earlier, she wouldn’t have removed her makeup so soon

“you’re pretty anyway,” eunha told her, grabbing her hand and dragging her out

you told them you would join after a few minutes and changed into your pjs like the rest

when you went to the backyard, you let out a surprised laugh

because the boys had already prepared drinks for all of you before gyeoul

“great minds think alike” hongjoong said

“rich coming from you because all it takes is one drink and it’s game over for you,” wooyoung said and seonghwa’s laughter boomed in the air

“you’re no good either, seonghwa!” mingi pointed at the teacher, clicking his glass with wooyoung’s and sharing a shot

you smiled to yourself- it looked like you were going to make really good memories on this trip

you took a seat between the noisy ones- wooyoung and yuqi- and immediately started regretting it

because not only were the two of them were making you drink a lot, ensuring a good hangover

but they also kept teasing everyone (including you) and you thought they were too loud

not that you weren’t having fun

you surprised everyone by joining them after a few drinks, though you couldn’t defend yourself like the two did

what a team they made

of all the people, mingi noticed that perhaps… you needed to switch seats

or the environment- he didn’t want you to get too drunk

so when he subtly motioned for you to follow him, you nodded in answer

he told the drunk lot he would get more drinks

as if there weren’t a bunch of unopened bottles on the ground 

but thankfully they were too busy roasting each other to notice

and then you made the excuse of wanting to go to the toilet and left

you walked inside the hall, trying to figure out exactly where mingi had gone

you almost walked past him in the dark corridor and if mingi hadn’t grabbed your arm, you wouldn’t have known

you turned towards him, eyes wide in surprise

he immediately let go of you, not wanting you to feel uncomfortable

“wanna go see the stars?”

when he said that, you didn’t realise it would become a nighttime ritual for the two of you

because away from the city, you could see so many stars

that drunken night, you watched the stars with him in silence

too afraid to speak lest he figure out the desires within your heart

the desire to be with him, to get to know him more, to simply talk to him

but that comfortable silence definitely created a shift in your dynamics.

.

you didn’t travel much the next day, just explored the surroundings and made a trip to the top of the hill

taking as many photos as you wanted

capturing candids of the students and the teachers to share with them later

watching in fascination as some of the kids caught bugs quite easily

thanking the girls who made flower bracelets for all of you

and when you caught mingi smiling at the bracelet on his wrist, you showed off yours

“the boring old history teacher received a gift?” you teased

“you have to admit that they’re creative,” he laughed. “look- the boys want them too.”

the boys, in fact, wanted them. they were all queued up waiting for the girls to give them all a bracelet- or a ring

“oh, when we go back, there are gonna be so many campus couples,” eunha joined the two of you to watch the sight

really, it was pretty obvious who liked who- they wanted to receive the flowers from the person they liked

and the girls wanted to give the flowers to the person they liked

you wondered if they were so obvious… were you too? 

because it was common knowledge that wooyoung liked eunha- even right now, you caught him stealing glances at her

and if you looked behind you, mina was listening to seonghwa quite intently while he rambled on about something

hongjoong, who was right there, seemed the least interested

so when you looked up at mingi, you caught him staring at you and your heart skipped a beat

“you’ve got a little something on your head- a petal.”

“where?” you ran your fingers through your hair where he pointed but it seemed like you didn’t get it

and mingi decided to take the matter into his own hands and leaned down a bit to pick the petal from near your ear

and just like that, time stopped for a few seconds

maybe you should stop really stop reading novels

even though you haven’t read one in about a year

but just like in the books, the length of the duration- despite being only a matter of a few seconds- seemed too long

as you met his eyes, the golden rays of the sun casting a warm glow on his skin

and making his dark orbs more prominent

you wished he was wearing shades right now so you wouldn’t be entranced by the way his eyes scanned your face

but you blinked, and the moment was over- he drew away and tossed the petal on the ground, smiling awkwardly

and you were so glad jongho called you at that moment, having spotted a kitten and knowing how much you liked cats

you got busy with him, burying that moment aside for the time being

that night, you came back to the same lodge

you didn’t drink this time, having learned your lesson from how bad the hangover was in the morning

but you played a few games of uno and perhaps… this was noisier than last night

because there were quite a few sneaky players in this game

gyeoul and jongho- the evil duo of the school

“have some shame,” wooyoung tsk-ed at gyeoul who grinned at jongho- only you seemed to have noticed the look they shared

the look of an underlying scheme

you were sometimes surprised by how well they got along despite gyeoul being a few years older than all of you, and jongho being the youngest teacher in the school

like attracts like, apparently. evil attracts evil

you noticed jongho mouth a number at gyeoul and you realised what was going on

they either took a peek at the other teacher’s cards since there wasn’t much space here to hide your cards properly

or when jongho had shuffled the cards… he had pulled some trick at that time

either way, you weren’t going to let the two of them win- at least not them

so you looked at mingi who was right in front of you, and you subtly let him know that the two were at it again

he stifled a smile, whispering ‘i got this’ 

and the tables turned when within a few minutes, he somehow tricked gyeoul into playing her wild cards but completely destroyed her

he did not win the game but to you, he was the winner

and you told him that when he asked if you wanted to watch the stars a bit tonight too before sleeping

he laughed loudly at that, almost getting shy

.

and that night, you talked about the most random stuff. again.

it was like you could never run out of things to talk about

after all, there was so much to talk about

the work tea

recent developments- eunha was noticing wooyoung back and seonghwa was still an airhead

you thought seonghwa was just equally nice to everyone so it would be hard to figure out if he looked at mina differently

some students tea- one of the close-knit group of friends had a falling out during the trip

mingi was sure they would figure it out on their own

but you were sure one of them would come to you or wooyoung for advice

you both were the unofficial counsellors in your school

“why wooyoung?” mingi wondered. “why not me?”

“because you, mr. song, seem a tad bit intimidating at times.”

the puppy eyes of disbelief he made in response proved you wrong

“who? me?”

you couldn’t help but laugh at the way he was looking at you

“sometimes, yes.”

“more than wooyoung?”

“wooyoung is a literal ball of sunshine though…”

mingi turned towards you, stepping closer

“do i seem intimidating to you too?”

though it was an innocent question

it did nothing to help the butterflies in your stomach

it took everything in you to shake your head no

because he felt intimidating sometimes, that was true

and if it wasn’t for his warm personality

you might not have ever interacted properly with him

mingi laughed to himself, perhaps knowing that you might be lying

and it fell silent all of a sudden

just the sound of the crickets and the rustling of the leaves

and the loud sound of your thoughts

the next two days were a blur

and you thought that when you would go back home, you would have to look at all the photos you took

to ingrain these memories in your brain

because the days were packed travelling and having fun

the bus rides were fun and now it was mr. song who showed his dance moves to the students

he was surprisingly very good- in fact- too good

you wondered if that was why he felt so chill- because he just had this chill groove to him

which showed a lot in his dance moves when he freestyled

you had to physically go and calm the girls after this because

suddenly they were seeing the boring old history teacher in a new light

you folded your arms when mingi made his way back, still laughing at the way the girls cheered for him and the boys clapped

he asked you if you liked what you saw

and that made you smack his arm and turn your focus out of the window to hide your blush admire the scenery

now it was mostly visiting a few spots such as more historical sites and shopping points

and during the day, you were usually with the girls so you could shop together

you tried the local delicacies which was a new experience for most of the people here

and visited an apple farm to help the farmers as well

since it was a packed two days, the teachers didn’t really play more uno or drink 

though all of you would gather, this time in the common room, to plan what was next

but both of these nights, mingi offered you the same thing-

wanna see the stars?

you learned more about him and he about you

you learned that he has always loved to dance 

and he loves karaokes- especially drunk karaokes

he learned more about your previous school experience 

how they overworked you so much 

combined with gaslighting, you thought it was normal and you were just lacking

he assured you that you made a good decision quitting

and commended you for taking the big step- after all, it must have been daunting

though he did not have a similar experience, he could understand you

just like that, you learned the little things about each other

and now that the trip was almost over, you told mingi that you would like to take a walk around while you watched the stars

.

while walking, you were suddenly reminded of the time the staff went out for dinner once

and everyone was at least a bit tipsy if not drunk

when it was time to wrap up and mingi saw that you meant to walk home

he offered to accompany you

and that was only a few months after you started teaching so you weren’t very familiar with all the teachers

though you were pretty sure they were all very nice

you told mingi that he was too drunk but he insisted anyway

and you let him walk you to your neighbourhood which wasn’t far from there

now, almost two years later, you were both taking a walk again and it was oddly reminiscent of that time

and it seemed like mingi was thinking the same when he asked you if you remembered when he first walked you home

“i never told you but i didn’t remember for a while,” he confessed, the rustling of the leaves under your steps growing louder as you stepped on the autumn leaves

you weren’t surprised, if you were honest

“it’s okay. you didn’t do anything stupid. except make crow noises, but that’s okay.”

mingi covered his face in his hands as he laughed and you smiled

“i may or may not have been trying to impress you.”

“really? it was a success. i haven’t heard many people pull off crow noises that well.”

when mingi made a face at that, you lightly punched his arm

“it really is okay. but i have one little favour to ask…”

mingi knew what was coming before you said it

and you both walked a bit further from the hotel

making sure no one was around

before mingi turned away from you and made the loudest caws

and this time, you laughed heartily 

you were so absorbed in your little bubble that when you heard the sound of a door opening

probably the door of the nearest lodge who heard strange sounds in the middle of the night

you grabbed mingi’s hand instinctively and started running away from the source of the sound

the two of you couldn’t stop laughing, even as you ran

so much that it made it harder to run, actually

he took the lead and guided you to the benches to catch your breaths

and it was only after a couple of minutes when your breathing returned to normal

and the adrenaline started to wear off

that you realised the two of you were still holding hands

maybe because the muscles of your arm tensed at the sudden realisation that mingi finally noticed your joined hands

but when he glanced at you and found the corners of your lips curved in a small smile at the sight

he squeezed your hand instead of letting it go

and you looked up at him to see him shyly smiling

“what?” you asked

you couldn’t help it- you needed to know what he was thinking

“nothing, y/n,” he shook his head though he was unable to stifle his smile

“it’s not nothing,” you insisted. “why are you trying so hard not to smile?”

“it’s because i quite like this,” he finally admitted, raising your joined hands and you noticed how small your hand was in his, almost swallowed in his grip

for once, you were the one who was at a loss for words

“did i say something wrong?” mingi asked

and you wished he wasn’t so straightforward

but perhaps, it was for the better

and you thought the timing felt right too

the sky looked beautiful

the air felt like it was enveloping you in its embrace

the moon beautifully lit his face, highlighting the sharpness of his features

yet casting such a soft, welcoming glow

you shook your head, caressing the skin of his hand with your thumb in answer

there was no need for words anymore- the feelings were reciprocated, and you both could feel that

.

mingi made a daring move when he raised your joined hands in the air again

you wondered what he was up to now

but the last thing you expected was for him to kiss the back of your hand

it was such an endearing action that you could not help but giggle

“can’t we stay like this even when we go back home?”

an offer. a question. a confession. it was all of that and more

“i don’t think you can see many stars in the city though.”

“i don’t think i would have to look for stars,” mingi said, looking right at you

that was enough

you smacked his arm. “that’s the cheesiest pick up line i’ve ever heard. you really are the boring old history teacher, mingi.”

you started to go back, folding your arms and still giggling especially when mingi laughed loudly, rushing after you

you tried to run but damn his long legs

he caught up to you, running backwards in front of you now

you pouted as you tried to cross him, but he just won’t let you

“you haven’t answered my questions.”

you paused. you really hadn’t, huh?

he stepped closer to you, trying to read your face for a hint of what was going on behind your eyes

and you thought it was time to finally follow your heart’s desires

and test the waters without any fear

you stepped closer, surprising him

you placed a hand on his shoulder and he wondered what you were about to do

he shut his eyes when you stood on your tiptoes, inches away from him

and you took a moment to drink in the sight

before you pecked his cheek, a giggle escaping your mouth

and this time, you ran for your life

because you didn’t think you could take anything else right now

especially because you had waited so long for some sort of a signal from him

though you wanted nothing more than to hug him and stay there for the rest of the night

you let him chase you and let him hold your hand again

when it was time to separate to go to your respective rooms

he patted your cheek, looking at you with such soft eyes that you melted

and you knew, in that moment

that you were absolutely done for

the travelling time for the next day was a bit longer

which meant you got to spend more time with mingi on the bus

and it was a little awkward at first, the both of you fumbling around like the very teenagers you were making fun of not too long ago

the very teenagers that were on the bus right now

and it took you both a while to stop fidgeting and do something other than awkwardly laugh

thankfully, one of the students came forward with some snacks to share

and thus began a discussion of which snacks were better and which were mid-tier

you both were so enthusiastic about this that the students joined as well

before you knew it, you reached the outskirts of the village you were going to stay in for the next two days

and you thought beautiful was an understatement

the sea was so bright that it looked like a sheet of clear crystals under the sun

the air smelt of salt and sand and you felt a sense of relief

and so did the rest of the passengers- you could hear the soft sighs of the students

this was why you planned the trip

so everyone could just relax at the seaside

there was nothing planned for the last two days- there were a few sites so the students could divide into groups according to where they wanted to go

and the teachers would divide and tag along accordingly

the next two days were all about having fun

no more historical sights, as the kids teased mingi

though mingi retorted with a poetic ‘history is everywhere’ that earned him a few grimaces

as soon as you reached the lodges by the beach, the kids all ran towards the sea with the teachers shouting concerningly

thankfully, there were a few lifeguards since it was a tourist destination

so all of you decided to relax a little too, while still keeping an eye on the kids

.

that day, you all simply enjoyed being on the beach

making sandcastles, playing volleyball, swimming and collecting shells and rocks

mingi was out with his sleeveless again, no jacket covering his arms this time

you had a tough time if you were honest

and so did mina who couldn’t stop sighing at the sight of seonghwa’s long wet hair matted to his face

you could kind of relate to her, though your eyes only followed mingi

and perhaps, you were as obvious as mina now

because a certain menace came to stand next to you

“was just curious why you keep grinning into the distance. but nope. you’re just watching that fool. also, maybe wipe the drool off your mouth.”

you glared at wooyoung

“when you wipe yours. do you want to know what eunha thinks about you?”

suddenly, he’s ready to bow in front of you if necessary and you laughed

you’re both just two lovesick birds at this point and decided to calm yourself by making some sandcastles

“i never realised you got the hots for mingi too,” wooyoung said while trying to place a shell on the top of the lopsided castle. 

“what do you mean ‘too’?” you asked absently, more focused on making sure the whole thing wouldn’t collapse because of a shell

“he’s liked you for the longest time, y/n. you’ve just only noticed now.”

oh. 

that can’t be true, can it?

“are you sure?”

“i mean, he literally watches the stars with you every night. why else would he do that? and only with you? i like watching stars too, he knows. never offered me now, did he?”

you snorted at that

it did make sense

plus, with the events of last night… he must like you a little, right?

you decided to confirm it tonight

this time, you were the one who asked to watch the stars with him

after dinner when you made sure all the kids were in their rooms

the whole staff went to watch the stars, actually

you couldn’t miss it here- the full moon was the cherry on the top

however, you noticed how wooyoung and eunha found a spot away from the rest

mina also managed to get seonghwa to follow him- and perhaps, you thought, he really did like mina 

the rest were in their own bubble

and you grabbed mingi’s hand to lead him towards the big rock you had spotted earlier

where you could have a little privacy 

not that you aimed to do anything, no

you just wanted him all to yourself

was it selfish of you? yes. absolutely. but did you care? 

nope

did mingi care? he followed you willingly

this time, you were more touchy with each other

while you talked about how much you had missed the beach, his fingers trailed the curves of your hand absently

you brushed the sand off his cheekbone

and he scooted closer to you

“i don’t want to go back now,” you sighed happily

you really didn’t want to- it was too peaceful here

and you had never felt more content

“neither do i,” mingi said. “but at the same time… i do.”

“hmm… are you sick of watching the stars with me?”

mingi laughed at that

“i thought by now you knew that i never watched the stars.”

your heart did a few flips at his words and you glanced at him

he was right- he never really looked at the stars

he was always watching you

“would you like to see the stars when we go back?”

“every day, if i can?” he tucked your hair behind your ear as he said

“i really like you, y/n.”

.

god

it’s like you’re the high school student on a trip the way you’re feeling right now

you smiled, looking away and shyly responding

“i really like you too, mingi. i have, for a long time now.”

“how long?” the goofy mingi was back

“never answering that by the way,” you said, getting up and away from him. “you cannot extract that information out of me.”

“y/n!” he yelled your name in warning and you laughed as you tried to make a dash

but he was far too quick and he grabbed your wrist

you had to put your free hand over your mouth to keep your laugh from booming across the horizon

but you could not contain it when he pulled you in to his chest

you wasted no time wrapping your arms around his slim waist

and he curled in your hold, rocking you back and forth

“you’re too tall, by the way,” you said when you realised you were on your tiptoes and he was leaning down

he parted with a kiss on your cheek, pinching your nose afterwards

sending your brain into a spiral, turning you into mush

“you’re too cute.”

no.

you’re too insane because you want to kiss him right now

and you don’t know what took over you when you did just that- pecked his lips, surprising both of you

giggling when his eyes went a little wide 

your grin almost faded when he didn’t respond

but before you could say or do something, he crashed his lips on yours

kissing you deeply, once before drawing away and making sure that it was okay

oh, it was more than okay

but he decided to keep things calm, kissing you slowly and testing the waters

it was perfect in every way, more than what you ever dreamed about

you just never expected this

you and mingi on this beautiful beach, the full moon shining on you two, the waves almost washing your feet

all the four-leaf clovers you found were worth it, it seemed

now that you were sort of official

you spent the next two days with each other

without any hesitation this time

the others barely noticed the difference and you realised that it was because perhaps, the two of you had always looked at each other that way

(or maybe a certain kim hongjoong told them to shut up and let you two enjoy)

but either way, the others let you two tag together when you accompanied the students into town

you went to the local shops and this time, you bought things for your friends and family just like the students

you all had bbq before coming back to the lodges

and that night, you gifted mingi a silly pair of sunglasses

round sunglasses with wide white rims

and when he wore them, you burst into a fit of giggles

“you look like willy wonka from charlie and the chocolate factory”

“do i?” mingi asked, unlocking his phone to check

“mingi wonka. mingi wonka, the amazing history teach~”

you were pretty sure your laughter was heard by everyone on the beach as he chased you 

you decided to take refuge in the waves of the sea and started swimming away from him

but he was quick to follow

and once he caught you, wrapping his arms around your waist, you laughed shyly

“someone will see us!”

but when you turned in his arms

the moonlight illuminating his face but hiding his eyes due to the glasses he still had on

you tried taking them off his face but he grabbed your wrists

“yeah, keep them on,” you whispered. “they suit you.”

“i can’t tell if this is a joke or not,” he smiled a bit

“you just need a hat and a cane to go along with it-”

and before you knew it, mingi put his hand on top of your head and dunked you under the sea

you splashed water on him in revenge

and the two of you chased each other again until he finally caught you

and this time, you thought he really did look beautiful with the damp hair and the glasses

so you didn’t try to wriggle away from his grasp when he leaned in to kiss you

.

the last day, everyone decided to just laze around at the beach

the kids played in the water all day

and it was a bit cloudy so the heat was tolerable too

you wore a hat, resting your back against a rock

and whoever passed by would mess up your hat, annoying you

wooyoung decided to step in to guard you

but also for advice

“would it be too much if i cook and take eunha to a private spot for a little picnic?”

you shut the book you had been trying to read and turned your focus to wooyoung

“that sounds cute, actually. would she accompany you willingly?”

wooyoung smacked your arm and you snickered. “she gifted me my favourite perfume last night.”

“so?”

“how did she know?” wooyoung folded his arms. “i’ve never talked about which perfume i wear. no one knows, but she knew.”

this time, you let out a long ‘oh’ as you pondered

“you’re telling me she did her research?”

wooyoung nodded, very pleased

“do you know what her favourite food is?”

“that’s what i came to ask.”

you both did a little planning and wooyoung admitted that he had noticed a shift in your relationship with mingi too

you asked him if you were that obvious

and almost comically, you both looked towards seonghwa

“he’s hopeless,” wooyoung concluded

for some reason, mingi was very curious about what you two were talking about

(or maybe he just wanted you all to himself for the time being)

and he told you that intrusive thought that night

it was the last night of the trip and you would be leaving for home in the morning

so you told him that he better get used to the lack of proximity

because during school hours, it would be pretty packed especially now that exams were nearer

and after that, you both would have too much to work on

“will i be able to see you often then?”

“i mean…” you began. “what are we?”

mingi’s mouth formed an o shape as he realised

that you two hadn’t really talked about this

“shall i ask you out?”

“if i have to tell you that…” you scowled at him and he laughed

digging into his pocket to extract a small box

it was your mouth forming the o shape now

he opened the box to reveal a set of matching bracelets

a pretty little silver chain, very subtle, and just how you preferred

“will you go out with me?”

you made an impressed face, accepting the bracelet

“i didn’t know you were such a romantic”

“there are a lot of things you don’t know yet”

“i’m pretty sure i don’t need to know most of those things-”

mingi only laughed this time 

that night came to be a memorable one

as the trip concluded and you got back to your daily routine

you found that it no longer felt mechanical

you started off with a smile on your face

even mondays felt exciting 

because you could see mingi at school

you would eat lunch together everyday with the rest of the staff

but it was official now- you and mingi

and wooyoung and eunha

the latter was more unexpected, the staff revealed

and you were flustered to hear about how obvious the two of you had been

but it was okay

seonghwa finally noticed that mina acted differently only around him

and was left confused as he tried to figure out how he felt

hongjoong and yuqi were your new enemies

they made it their life’s mission to never let you couples have a peaceful moment

at least wooyoung could fight back

you and mingi were the type to let him bully you

and the students?

they thought they were being subtle when they tried to make the two of you cross each other at the same corridor

or when they casually told you things about each other, little updates

you caught on pretty quick but you let them be

though it was all fun and jokes

hongjoong told you a little secret later on

that mingi had specifically requested to come on this trip because of you

it was endearing

after school, mingi would walk you home every night

because that was the time you could catch up with each other in private

sometimes, you would stop by to have dinner or coffee

you met each other’s families and they instantly liked you

everything was perfect

everything was perfect, just like the waves had been on that beach 

calm, playful but strong

just like your love for each other

and every night before you went to sleep

(if you were not sleeping beside mingi)

you would look at the grid on your wall

at the pictures of you and mingi on the beach

and the picture of him in those silly glasses that suited him so well

and if you were sleeping beside mingi?

well

you could just look at the real thing :D 

[missjanjie]

Multiples of 3 for the ask xo

ty im gonna put these under a cut <3

3. What’s your favorite fic that you’ve written?

honestly I think it’s poison paradise

6. Are there any fics from others you reread all the time?

I revisit predictable every once in a while… iykyk

9. Do you write every day? If you wrote today, share a sentence of what you’ve written!

im happy if i write every week lol. i havent written anything since i posted the hanahaki fic tho

12. Do you have a playlist for your current WIP(s)? Share it!

no but i made a playlist for a rosnali fic that involved one and i made the toapp dancers their set lists

15. How do you come up with titles for your fics/chapters?

usually it’s song lyrics but chatgpt helped me with the hanahaki title lol

18. What’s one of your favorite lines you’ve written in a fic?

ok like, im too lazy to go copy the exact line but in toapp after lemon drunkenly attacks pri’s fiancé and she goes “she doesn’t love you!” then turns to pri and goes, “but she doesn’t love me either.”

21. Have you ever deleted an entire scene after spending hours laboring over it? If so, why?

no im way too stubborn ill make it work lmao

24. Share a moodboard for (one of) your current WIP(s).

i will come back to this after i make one

27. Is there a fic you were nervous to post/share? Why?

i remember being nervous to post ‘you, me, and new orleans’ bcs that was self-indulgent smut and im so desensitized to kink i had no idea what y’all would find palatable even tho it was just exhibitionism and degradation lol

[isakvaltrsen]

skam fic love fest | day 2: inspiration

Somewhere I’ve never been by @irazor

The first time Even meets Jonas' best friend, nothing goes according to plan.

[lordabovehelpme]

AHHHHHHH! I just read A Day at the Lake!🥺😭 I swear that was the cutest thing I’ve ever read!😭 I need to go reread it!

Other than thaaaat... if u make another part... what if it’s twins?! Like a boy and a girl bc Din would lose it and it would be so freaking adorable! Ahhhh! I have baby fever now thank u😂

Delivery Day- Din Djarin x Reader

A/n: Please, you can’t do this to me. I kinda went overboard but I hope you like it!!! I am so happy you liked Lazy day and a day at the lake. I had so much fun writing them! Also yes, baby fever is deadly! So your welcome for infecting you ;)

Amazing moodboard by @jedi-jesi I love this one!!!!

Warnings: Pregnancy, birth, and children 

This is the third part to my Lazy day fic. You can find part one here and part two here. :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You twist and turn in front of the mirror. A frown is plastered on your face as your hands trail over your swollen stomach.

“Din, do I look bigger than usual?”

The mandalorian looks up from where he was cleaning his blaster. His helmet tilts and soon he arises from his seat. Two large hands press and rub over your taut skin. “Cyare, you’re pregnant.”

“Really? I didn’t notice.” Glaring at him through the mirror, you sigh, “No, I just feel like… I don’t know… bigger.”

His hands leave your stomach to quickly pull off his helmet and attach his lips to your neck. “Hmmm, well I think you look amazing.” The vibrations from his voice travel down your spine and send tingle throughout your body.

Smiling, you turn your head and press a kiss to his cheek. “Thanks love.”

“It’ll be alright, don’t worry.” Stopping his attack on your neck, he rests his chin on your head and peers down at your stomach. “I’m so excited for him to arrive.”

A loud laugh breaks from your lips at his certain belief of your unborn child being a boy.

***

Reeza, your daughter, has sat herself on the counter near the sink. She peers out the small window longingly at her father and her brother.

Din has decided that Myles, your firstborn son, is finally old enough to begin his mandalorian training. Most mornings are now spent with you, Reeza, and Grogu setting up breakfast while your husband and Myles will train outside.

“Mommy?”

“Yes dear?” You look up from your sizzling pan of vegetables.

“When do I get to start training? I want to be a warrior too.”

Sighing, you wipe your hands on the towel that was draped over your shoulder. Walking over to her, your hand cups her cheek and you press a kiss to the top of her head. “Well, it's up to your father, but probably next year.”

“Next year!” Her arms fly up into the air in distress and she buries her head in your chest. “I can’t wait that long.”

Looking down, your brush through her long brown hair. Both of your children are carbon copies of your husband. “Maybe if you ask nicely, Myles will tell you what exercises he does and you can copy them. Then maybe Daddy will notice and he’ll start you early.”

“Good idea Mommy!” She releases you and turns to carefully watch them again.

Smiling, you go back to your pan and add some species. “Ree, could you go tell them that breakfast is ready.” She nods and jumps off the counter, running outside the hatch.

You set five plates down on the small table, and walk over to Grogu who was focused on memorizing his metal ball. He looks up and coos at you, arms lifting into the universal sign for “up.” Frowning, you peer down at him.

“You know if I get down, there's no way I’m getting back up.” His arms lower and he walks over to his seat at the table, before pulling himself up onto the chair. He looks at you and babbles something. Shaking your head you jokingly wave a finger at him. “You just wanted to see if I would fall for your tricks, didn’t you.”

Before he can respond, arms are wrapped around your middle and a helmet is shoved into the crevice between your head and your shoulder. He chuckles at your soft squeak of surprise, “Smells good, mesh’la.”  Giving you one last slight squeeze, he releases you and sits down at the head of the table.

Smiling, you start dishing up three plates and setting them in front of your children. “Thanks Mommy.” “Thank you.” and “Gaa!” Reeza and Grogu sit next to each other while Myles sits across from them, your husband sits at the head and you sit at the other end.

Reaching for Din’s plate, he swats your hand away, “Go sit down, I’ve got it cyare.” Taking his helmet off and setting it on the floor next to his chair, he smiles and presses a kiss to your lips.

“Ewww, stop it!” Myles complains and Reeza makes a gagging sound, Grogu just giggles at them.

Breaking away you look at your children who all look disgusted. “How do you think you little rascals were made?”

“DIN!” You slap his chest with your towel and he just grins at you. Turning to your children, you exclaim, “Don’t listen to your father!”

“Mommy, what does Daddy mean?” Sweet little innocent Reeza asks.

Glaring at your husband you walk over and brush her hair away from her forehead, “You ask Daddy that in a few years, okay?” You can tell she is confused by the way her head tilts, mirroring the frequent habit of your husband perfectly. Albeit, she just nods and shoves another spoonful of vegetables into her mouth.

Sending Din one last glare, you sit down and start at your own plate. “Myles, stop playing with your brother. Eat your food.”

His head whips to meet your own, shock written all over his face that you caught him. Recently, Myles and Grogu have been playing the game of “levitating food.”  Myles will point at a specific piece of food and Grogu will try and lift it into his mouth. Pouting, he looks down at his plate and stabs an unsuspecting pepper.

Silence is a foreign term in the Djarin residence, and today is no different. As soon as everyone settles down, the child gives a hard kick to your ribs. A whine falls from your lips as your hand flies over your stomach. The mandalorian instantly is at your side, rubbing and massaging whatever skin his hands can reach.

“Sorry, they’re just kicking hard.” Giving your worried family an apologetic smile, you try and laugh it off.

Your husband’s eyes frantically watch your features, checking to see if you are in any pain. When he finds no signs, he places a hand over your stomach in a protective manner. Turning to his children he sighs, “Your mother and I have made a decision.”

All three children stop eating and look at him. They all look so serious. You have to bite back a smile at how they all sport the same serious face their father uses, even Grogu has started making the same expressions as his father.

“We’ve decided that we are going to travel and spend the next month and a half at the covert. That way the child will be born safely there and Myles you can get your first helmet.”

“I want a brother!” Myles shouts before the idea of his own helmet even processes.

“Not fair, you have Grogu. I want a sister!” Reeza sticks her tongue out at Myles.

“Wait!” Myles turns to his father, eyes as large as the moon. “I get my own helmet?” With a proud grin, your husband nods and Myles yells out in delight. “When are we leaving? Can we go now?”

Din turns to look at you and asks, “Well should we go now?”

You nod your head and everyone jumps into action. Reeza grabs plates and brings them to the sink. Din and Myles practically run to the cockpit and start the procedure for liftoff. Even though it’s only been seven months, your stomach has already surpassed the size of your last pregnancy. They do say that every pregnancy the child is bigger than the last, but this is alot bigger than you expected.

***

“Din? No way. How have you been? I haven’t seen you in years man.” Paz Vizsla envelopes your husband into a large hug and they both pat each other backs. They talk back and forth for a while before Paz finally sees you walking down the hatch. “I see you’ve been busy.” He throws your husband a glance before walking over to also hug you.

You stand at the base of the hatch, Grogu attached to your hip while Myles holds your other hand. Reeza, a tad shocked at the size of the man, hides behind your legs and clutches your skirt. “Fancy seeing you here.” You toss the familiar helmet a wide smile and he walks over to hug you.

“My my, Reeza you’re so big! Last time I saw you, you fit in the palm of my hand.” Still unsure of the warrior, she slowly makes her way from behind you. “And Myles, I heard you are coming for your helmet. I’m so proud of you.”

Your son smiles at Paz and lets the man pick him up. “Thanks, I’m super excited.”

“You should be, you’ve been the talk of the covert recently.” Din walks over to your side and Reeza runs over to him, wanting to be in her fathers arms. Picking her up, you all walk into the covert.

As soon as you make it through the doors, everyone is greeting you. Women coo at the large swell to your belly and the men pat Din on the back, your children have run off with the other covert children.

Shortly the armorer greets you, “Welcome back. Your room is ready, right next to the med bay.” She gives you a nod and goes back to her duties. It took awhile for her to warm up to you since you are not mandalorian. But as the years have gone on and the more children you produce, she seems to have now taken a liking to you.

The women pull you away from the main group to sit by the fire. “You look like you could pop any second! How far along are you?” Beti, one of your friends, asks.

“It’s only been a little over seven months.” All the women gasp in shock and hands fly over your stomach.

“No way, the baby is supposed to grow the most in the next couple months! You can’t grow much more.”

“I know!” Seeing Beti’s look of question, you sigh, “Yes, I’m sure it’s only been seven months.”

She throws her hands up in defense. “You know, Mirta was huge, about as big as you are, and she had twins.” Women nod and make sounds of agreement.

All the sudden, the dots start connecting. You thought you remembered less activity from your other pregnancies and now it makes sense. Your hand flies to cover your mouth that has hung open in shock. But your mind rejects the idea and you shake your head. “There’s no way.”

***

The bed dips as your husband crawls under the covers with you. “Hey handsome.”

He nuzzles up against you and presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Mmm cyar’ika.” You let out a giggle as his scruff tickles your neck. All at once, pain erupts from your stomach. “Cyare?”

“Din…” A pathetic wail falls from your lips and you roll off the bed, standing and clutching the edge of the bed for stability, “the baby.”

His features flood with panic before they fall back into his stoic facade. “Alright, let’s get you to the med bay.” Nodding, you grab his shirt and clench your teeth as another wave of pain passes through your body.

Your eyes widen when water runs down your thighs. “Din, my w-water-” A groan interrupts your own voice.  

He scoops you from your feet. “It’s okay, cyare, I’ve got you.” His voice soothes your nerves a little, but there is little you can do to a woman in labor.

As you enter the med bay, the doctor instantly starts informing you both on the procedure and plan however you can’t focus on what she’s saying. Din lays you down on the medical bed and moves to clutch your hand.

After many excruciating hours of pain and yelled curses you finally hear the wail of a child. You catch your breath as the doctor informs you that you’ve had a healthy baby boy. Handing your son to you, she nods before closing a curtain around you both.

Din rips his helmet from his head and instantly presses a kiss to your forehead and then to his new son. “Oh mesh’la.” His voice cracks with emotion and a tear falls onto his cheek.

But before you can respond another wave of pain travels through your body. “DIN!” Handing your son to him, you clutch the blanket. Instantly, he throws his helmet on and flings open the curtain to find the doctor.

“Somethings wrong!” You can hear the panic in his voice as he beckons her back to you. “This has never happened before. Please, help her.”

She takes a look at the spot between your legs before glancing at your husband. “She’s having another.”

“Kriff, another?!” You should have known, Beti told you so. A nurse walks over to Din and takes your son from his arms, needing to clean him.

“Alright cyare, you got it. I’m right here. Come on, cyar’ika.” You don’t miss the way he grimaces when you squeeze his hand.

After what seems like seconds and yet hours, another cry is heard and finally the pain subsides. Din gasps as he leans forward, trying to catch a glimpse of his child leaving your body. “Congratulations, you have a healthy baby girl.”

The nurse arrives back with your son, handing him to Din, and the doctor hands your daughter to you. Once again, she nods before closing the thick curtain.

Pressing a kiss to her head you peer up at your husband who hasn’t moved since the nurse offered him his son. He seems frozen, you’re not even sure he is breathing. “Din?”

It takes him a second to slowly turn his helmet to meet your gaze. One shaky hand lifts up his helmet, his eyes as wide as saucers and swirling with unshed tears. The helmet makes a loud bang as it falls from his grasp onto the floor. That same hand reaches over to your daughter and caresses her head. “They’re perfect.” A tear falls from his eyes, “Kriff, you’re perfect.”

He falls to his knees, but makes sure to keep his new son secure and safe. His head leans on your shoulder and finally all his tears fall. Loud sobs echo throughout the small enclosed space.

“I’m so happy.” The twins have both fallen asleep, one on your chest and the other in his embrace. He chokes on a tear before offering you a kiss, teardrops falling from his eyes to mix with the ones you are now shedding. “You’re amazing.”

One of your hands moves over to lightly trail over your son's figure. You meet his eyes and a loud cry breaks from your lips at the twinkles of love and softness in his.

“I love you.” He rests his forehead against yours and you both close your eyes. “You’re too good for me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Next Part: Daylight

Okay so now I have the deadly case of baby fever. (because I obviously didnt have it before) 

Anyway, I had alot of fun writing this one and I hope you guys liked it!

Love you all, Lordy :) 

Masterlist

Taglist: @ficthots @along-the-lines-of-space

If you want to be added to my taglist, just give me a holler! :) 

[nothingtolosebutweight]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💖

Thank you, you wonderful human being ♥

As almost always with those tagging 'games' I'm a bit late, but I waited on purpose with this post. It was exactly one year ago today that I published my first fanfiction [🥳🥳🥳], so I'm using this post as a kind of an anniversary recap. 🤣🤓

Thanks to @jackson--t for encouraging me to write my own stories and get them posted in the end. You can love him or hate him for that 🤣It's his fault that I spam the Heavar Tag [I miss you, Smuddy ♥], but also the fault of every reader who left some nice comments or likes. These make me go on and on. Therefore, a big thank you also to you my dear readers and supporters. You have a special place in my heart -right next to Alex and JRM ♥♥

If loving you is wrong, I don’t wanna be right

-> It is not my very first story, but the first one that is still close to my heart. The somewhat crazy Heahmund still has a special place in my heart and sometimes I want to continue writing his story, but it would not end well and other projects always creep to the fore.

Somewhere I belong

-> It was my first multi-chapter story and also the first smut I managed to write. This story has a special place in my heart. I still can't read it again to this day (the cringe is real), but I'm still proud anyway XD I also have a series planned for these two, where they enjoy their affection for each other in different places, and one WIP of it is also quite advanced, but yeah, somehow I got stuck and again, other works took over.

• All Night Long

-> I had so much fun writing this oneshot and to this day it is my best work in terms of reader response (you little filthy animals 😘😘). The smut part could be a bit more detailed. Somehow it feels like they came after 5 seconds...😶

• Under the Night Sky & Part 2

-> It's super cheesy, but that's all the heart needs sometimes. I read it again a few days ago and died a bit of shame 🤣, but still...it's somehow cute. Part 2 was also the first time I put more effort into a moodboard and since then i has become another little sidehobby (which often costs me gray hairs too XD). One of my current WIPs is another part to this. One with a lot of blood and first shy explorations. I also want to let Heahmund be shy in this part when it comes to sharing intimate touches with another man. In most stories, he knows exactly what to do, but he's only had sex with women before and didn't have Google in his time to research how to do the same with a guy. Therefore, he must also slowly feel his way forward. Let's see how far I /he get/s ☺

• Heaven's just a Sin away

-> Also still proud of this one. I usually post something and then don't want to know about it again for a while, but this story I can reread almost without cringe. That means a lot for me 🤣 I am especially proud of the first part. But it also makes it kind of hard for me with current projects, because I compare everything to it and then don't feel it's good enough.

Dear readers,

what story have you enjoyed the most so far and what would you like to read more of in the future? If you don't want to answer it openly, you always can slide into my askbox. I provide masks to maintain anonymity 👹👺💀🤖 and if you don't want it answered in public, just add 🔒 to your message and I wont post it :)

[freelancearsonist]

February Fic Recs!

Hi everyone! I’ve realized that part of the problem with interaction within the fic community is that not as many larger creators are doing their part to reblog and recommend fics like they used to when I first joined Tumblr. And while I wouldn’t really consider myself a “large” blog, I still want to do my part to help boost my fellow creators :) So here’s a list of what I read this month!

02.01 // “a letter addressed to the manager of the letter room” by @propertyofabelmorales (Richard Alsonso-Munoz) // I’ve read this at least three times omg because it’s currently the only Richard content we have and it’s wonderfully written and the letter format is unique but really interesting and so fitting given the character so yeah 10/10 please keep ‘em coming Vic 😂

02.02 // “Walls that Come Down” by @houseofthirst (Nathan Bateman) // this made me horny and made me cry at the same time and I think it’s really unfair that you have the power to do that to me tbh 😂 This is so wonderfully written and such a beautiful take on Nathan’s character and ugh lemme go cry in my corner

02.03 // “Meet Me on Endor” by @autumnleaves1991-blog (Poe Dameron) // “You are so beautiful, all the time” made me tear up a little bit because it’s so distinctly Poe and I also horny cried because god I’d give anything for this man

02.04 // “In the Night” by @jawabear (Santiago “Pope” Garcia) // this was emotional and beautiful and sexy all at once and it made me cry a lil bit in bed at 2am and honestly I thank you for it

02.05 // “Something About You And I” by @sacklerscumrag (Poe Dameron) // This was beautifully written and also so so so sexy and I realized I might have a bit of unresolved bondage kink while reading this so thanks for that 😂

02.06 // “The Night That Follows” by @roanniom (Poe Dameron) // I found this kind of by accident and then it turned out to be one of the most beautiful fics I’ve ever read in my life??? I’m seriously like trembling how can someone pack so much talent into one sexy fic I’m—

02.07 // “The Punishment” by @mandorush (Santiago “Pope” Garcia) // This is so fucking sexy what the fuck and then I found out it’s a whole series??? Yeah so needless to say my 2am binge was entirely worth it omg 🤤

02.08 // “Dessert is on the Counter” by @nathan-bateman (Abel Morales) // I read this before you posted to make the moodboard but I’ve legit reread like seven times since then omg. A quality fic in every way. 10/10

02.09 // “Affection” by @wasicskosgirl (Llewyn Davis) // This is one of my all-time favorite fics for my favorite man 😭 everything about this is so cute and I would literally die to snuggle with this sweet boy 😭

02.10 // “Tell Me” by @rebellou (Poe Dameron) // I don’t even know what to say omfg this is one of the hottest things I’ve ever read in my life and I’d like this fic chiseled onto my gravestone so I have something nice to take with me into the afterlife

02.11 // “Romantic Dreams” by @witchyavenger (Santiago “Pope” Garcia) // Yeah I want this holy hell this was so spectacularly written and so sexy and 😩 god I can’t even have kids but I wish he would breed me omg

02.12 // “Pressing Camera Questions” by @youvebeenlivingfictional (Nathan Bateman) // Omg this is so wonderfully constructed, even as something of an introductory piece to this series. I’m so excited to see what comes!

02.13 // “Free Fall” by @michaelperry (Mikael Boghosian) // There’s so little fic for Mikael on this site and so finding this kinda felt like striking gold 😂 especially because it’s so wonderfully writing and so sexy and 🤤

02.14 // #valentines fic tag by @propertyofabelmorales (Literally every Oscar Isaac character) // I got to read so many amazing fics today because of the Valentine’s fic exchange but shit dude you went above and beyond!! I wanted to only plug each author once on this fic rec calendar but there’s no way I couldn’t give you a shout out for this. Even in addition to your piece for the fic exchange you wrote so much incredible fic for literally every character I can think of (including Marcus!!!!!!!!! As I’m writing this you haven’t even posted his yet but I saw his name on the list and I’ve been having heart palpitations ever since) so yeah explore this tag because there’s fic for literally everyone and it’s all so wonderfully written and *chef’s kiss*

02.15 // “ghosts” by @unstoppableforcce (Javier Peña) // This one gave me CHILLS omfg this is just the first part and I was rolling on the ground. Everything about this is so beautifully constructed and haunting and UGH this is amazing 😭

02.16 // “Pretty” by @waatermelon-sugaar (Blue Jones) // Holy shit this unlocked like seven kinks that I didn’t even know I had 🤤 this was so wonderfully written and so sexy and realistic? Idk if that’s a good descriptor but like I could feel everything you were describing sdkfdkfjdkfj I LOVED THIS

02.17 // “home.” By @pascal-isaac (Llewyn Davis) // Look I wish I was kidding when I say that I’ve read this fic upwards of seven times sdkjskdjskd this is one of my all-time favorite fics and it only gets hotter with age 😩 this fic is like a fine wine and I would like to have it inscribed on my tombstone when I inevitably escape from this plane of existence

02.18 // “Turning to the Dark...” by @mylifeisactuallyamess (First Order!Poe Dameron) // If I’m being honest I’m not usually a fan of darker fics but this one worked for me. It was so sexy and honestly kind of beautiful in the way you describe the interrogation and later Poe’s willful turning. I really enjoyed this and will probably read again 🥺

02.19 // “My Best Decision” by @knivesareout​ (Javier Peña) // Fuck guys I’ve had baby fever like a motherfucker this month and this made it so much worse 😂 Dad!Javi is so fucking cute omg and this fic was SO SEXY and it really hit all of my bases 😩

02.20 // “my sweet baby” by @writingletterstothefire (Santiago “Pope” Garcia) // Look I’ve read this fic 293394 times and it’s good EVERY TIME. Dirty Dancing is the good kush and this fic made my obsession with that movie like 1000 times worse omfg. I read this every time I’m in a bad mood and it just puts a smile on my face so fast omg I would literally beg for a longer version

02.21 // “Sounds of Silence” by @veuliee2 (Orestes) // This fic? This fic right here? Lives rent free in my mind. To the truest capacity of the statement. I wish I was kidding when I say that not a single day goes by where I don’t think about this. I don’t even really know what to call this? Maybe Something along the lines of associates to lovers? Whatever this qualifies as it’s literally one of my absolute favorite fics of all time and I will never forget the way you shattered and mended my heart with one story

02.22 // “Mr. & Mrs. Cooper” by @aellynera (Bud Cooper) // THIS IS BRILLIANT THE ENTIRE WAY THROUGH ok first of all that this is like one of two fics for this character 😂 but also this is the most beautifully, ironically constructed fic ever? Everything about this is entirely grasping and there’s THREE PARTS that are all just as good as the rest and 😩 I literally couldn’t ask for a more perfect fic

02.23 // “Catch” by @ollypopp (Poe Dameron) // This is a short drabble but I had to include it because DAMN this is so sexy and wonderful for such a short piece and I’ll be thinking about this for the next month so thank you 😂

02.24 // “Blooming most recklessly” by @writefightandflightclub (Evgeni Kolpakov) // This is so beautifully written while simultaneously being so sexy???? How do you do it Luna I am forever in awe of your talent 😭 I can just visualize everything he says and does so clearly and I’m so in love with this piece 😭💛

02.25 // “falling for you” by @luminouspoes (Poe Dameron) // This is the cutest thing ever wtf 😭😭 The pining is so strong even though it’s short and it’s just all around so wonderfully written and I must go cry in my corner now

02.26 // “Liability” by @honeymandos (Nathan Bateman) // THIS WAS GORGEOUS WTF I’m crying over some soft Nathan in this house tonight 😭 I was legit so worried for a while that he’d send reader away but then he CAVED and my heart sang hallelujah—

02.27 // “electric spark” by @woakiees (Duke Leto Atreides) // Hi I need everyone to read this please so it can destroy your body and live in your mind and occupy all of your waking thoughts like it does for me k thanks

02.28 // “The Child” by @starryeyedstories (Poe Dameron) // This was the sweetest thing ever what the heck 😭😭😭 I am eternally sobbing over this lil found family-ish vibe and dad!Poe is literally everything I’ve ever wanted and UGH I have to go cry for the next month

[daisylincs]

Today is, officially, the last day of 2020 - so it's literally just in time that I'm getting to @aosrecweek's amazing challenge. But that does go to show the nature of this crazy year a little bit, right? Time has just been INSANE, and I honestly cannot believe it's so close to over.

That said, I want to put it out there that everyone - absolutely everyone - who created something in this mad year, is a SUPERHERO. Like. We could have hidden away in dark corners, curled into little balls, and lost touch with our creativity entirely - but instead, we made some of the most fantastic content I have ever seen. And, excuse the language, but that is fucking amazing, of each and every single one of us. We're bloody INCREDIBLE, you guys. We really are.

Now, the rules of this challenge dictate that I've got to start with some of my own things, then repeat with the same number of creations by other people. So I'm going to do that, and I apologise for the sheer length (and self-plug-iness) of what is about to follow - but, bloody incredible, remember? I really mean that. 💜💜💜

My Own:

you could call me babe for the weekend - 19k of Spideychelle being oblivious, mutually pining IDIOTS while being snowed in. And, you know, fake dating. (This thing was SO MUCH FUN to write and though, yeah, it got completely out of control, as evidenced by the 19k, I still really love it.)

'tis the damn season - my first attempt at writing a multi-chap, and, yeah, it only has one chapter as of now, but I really love said chapter. Basically, it's Daisy and Mackelena being friends, and honestly just the BEST friends - I adore the style I managed to achieve in this thing. Plus, the Skimmons I have planned up next is going to be da bomb.

the closest thing - Philindaisy plus fake family. Also; amusement parks. And for a fangirl like me - well, it was pretty much a dream come true to write!

oh valley of plenty - in this fic, I basically told myself, so AoS won't give us Huntingbird in the finale? Fine. I'll just do it myself then - in the fluffiest way possible. And that's exactly what I did - making them, and their kids, be best friends in Perthshire.

maybe life should be about more - a very angsty Skimmons and Daisy-centric AU, focusing on the internalised homophobia Daisy has experienced through her life, and shaking it off (and eventually, y'know, getting together with Jemma.)

and it's dark in a cold december (but i've got you to keep me warm) - Fitzsimmons just make such a supreme pairing for hurt/comfort, what with how insanely well they understand each other and care about each other, so I'm really glad for the Fitzsimmons Secret Santa giving me the chance to write this! Basically, this follows our science duo through a stressful mission on Christmas Eve (so yes, it's a mission fic!!) and realising that the two of them can do anything together.

july second - ahhh, one of my personal favourites to write! Daisy birthday surprise fluff will always be top-notch for me, especially for all the team-as-family fluff you can add in, especially especially that this is set in Staticquake times! Also, it's from Hunter's point of view, which will forever be the most insanely fun thing to write, I do think.

i just wanna be with you - man, I'm such a big royal fan, so getting the chance to write a modern royalty AU for my OTP was nothing short of amazing!! This is Princess Daisy and her fiancée Lincoln Campbell at their official engagement interview

see the line where the skye meets the sea - shameless season 1 bby Bus Kids fluff, featuring movie nights, singalongs and... so much fluff your teeth will rot. Also I'm really freaking proud of the pun in the title okay

'cause all that you are is all that i'll ever need - Huntingbird waking up together fluff (because, fight me, Huntingbird in their sweet moments is one of the sweetest things you will ever get to read or write.) This is also my, fluffy, take on the origin of the Franny's Saloon keychain.

we love you, we love you (and we hope you love we too) - aha, my first polyship fic! Also my first try at some actually fancy HTML formatting (forever thanks to Kat for explaining.) Both of these things combined to form a fic that even I think is ridiculously fluffy and funny, and kinda amazing, at that.

and man I don't know where the time goes (but it sure goes fast like that) - Another Bus Kids movie night fic, but this one set post-season 7, and reflecting on how far they've come. A little bit more hurt/comfort-y than it's pure fluff prequel, but still super fluffy and soft. And, of course, with a happy ending.

she shares my dreams, i hope that someday, i'll share her home - snowy Fitzsimmons fluff, complete with them falling in love at the Winter Olympics, as you do.

then you walked in and my heart went boom - 16k of Dekesy for the wife, and remarkable for that, because literally a month ago from this, I hated Dekesy with my entire soul. Then I started reading Kat's fics, and, well, fell in love with them... so much so that I wrote sixteen thousand words of enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, bed sharing holiday fluff for them.

a love like that - a Fitzsimmons Cinderella AU, featuring my two favourite science babies, in true science bby style, falling in love over science and how stupid the whole courting thing is. Also, Daisy makes a brief appearance, and she's the freaking best.

ever after - ah, probably the one single fic I'm proudest of. A post-season 7 Daisy character study focusing on her emotional rollercoaster re: losing her family/things never being the same again, which just achieves... an emotional level that I have never managed to replicate again. I was full-on sobbing while writing it, and, guys, it also part-holds the Closest To Making Kat Cry prize.

blue - Daisy character study spanning snapshots of seven seasons, and before - but tied together by something blue in every moment. Researching for this, and finding all the blue moments, was very interesting, and immensely satisfying, especially since all the moments where a little bit of blue was present actually combine to chronicle Daisy's journey on the show remarkably well.

who is that girl I see - the one time I decided to write straight angst, and straight angst with no happy ending. Melinda May post-Bahrain, folks.

take my hand, take my whole life too - aww, the first thing I wrote that I really and truly loved. A Staticquake and Fitzsimmons Actors AU, featuring a proposal on set and INCREDIBLE amounts of fluff and softness.

hold out your hand, 'cause friends will be friends - the wife's favourite, and, as second fics go, pretty damn good, if I do say so myself. It's a Soulmates AU for Staticquake and Mackelena, with the focus being on DaisyMack friendship, and lots of denial, angst, and guilt about finding their soulmates. (They figure it out eventually, don't worry - it's me, of course I made them happy.)

Fitzsimmons + Fake Dating moodboard - Fake dating will always be FAB, and picturing it out in a moodboard - especially for my clueless bby best friends in love - was the best, and super satisfying.

Staticquake + Orange moodboard - One of the cooler ideas I had for Trick or Treat (which I still have not finished, heaven help me) was to make a series of moodboards for my OTP plus different colours. This orange one is just so light, and cheerful, and happy, and honestly I kinda adore it.

This Philindaisy + Family Moodboard - making moodboards can be insanely frustrating when you just can't find the photo that fits exactly right. With this one, however, I found all the pics I needed pretty insanely fast, and, better, the whole thing just worked, and really nicely so, too.

This Bus Kids + Baking Cookies moodboard - there's absolutely NO faults to be found with tiny, adorable Skye, Fitz and Jemma concocting choc chip cookies - but I'm actually doing a tiny cheat here, because, cute as my moodboard here is, the accompanying fic by my love @eowima is the SWEETEST and best thing you could ever wish for!!!

This Daisy Johnson Appreciation Week Photoset - Day 3 of Daisy Johnson Appreciation Week focused on an emotion, and I picked confidence and power, because honestly, it's nothing short of amazing how confident and powerful our gorgeous girl has become.

This Daisy Johnson Appreciation Week Photoset - One of the times I wish I could gif, because this quote about struggling though never giving up just suits Daisy perfectly. The photos I found are cool, though, and I mean, it's Daisy, so that's already absolutely fabulous.

Other People's:

I managed to find twenty-six of my own things that I liked enough to put up there (because, yes, I'm that big a dork, 26 things for me being 26 is the way to go :D) Anyway, now that gives me the amazing chance to spotlight twenty-six of my favourite creations by my FANTASTIC mutuals! 😍

To start, my wife - Kat said I couldn't put everything she's ever written on here, so, ugh, I guess I'll just do my top five then. *grumbling* Everything by Kat is on here in spirit, though!!

Chasing Cars (even after the story ends) by @aleksandrachaev - the epic Dekesy roadtrip AU and incredible Daisy character study itself, which, I do believe, finishes today!! Words aren't enough to describe how freaking AMAZING this thing is, or how spectacularly well characterised. Just: if you haven't read this yet, you are missing out. You will laugh, you will groan, you will want to wrap Daisy in a very tight hug, and you will probably cry, too. This fic just has it all, really!

there goes the maddest man this town has ever seen by @aleksandrachaev - the post-season 7 Deke-crashes-the-Framework-Zoom-call fic I didn't know I needed (but spent the next two weeks rereading every single night.) It is absolutely INCREDIBLE, with all the Deke & Team feels we missed in the final outro scene, and honestly just the most fantastic writing. I cannot recommend it enough!

To Box It Up And Start Again (everything must go) by @aleksandrachaev - bloody hell, this BROKE me. Deke never really got to say goodbye in canon, but Kat gave him the chance to do it here. And, my freaking GOODNESS, she made it so incredibly bittersweet and heart-shattering. 10/10

i am a leaf on the wind by @aleksandrachaev - a little bit of a stretched-out, reflective moment in the season 7 finale. As Daisy lingers on the edge of death, she reflects on all the lives she could have had - and, man, what a study in bittersweetness!! This entire fic is utterly incredible, and something I think all Daisy fans should read.

Falling Into Place by @aleksandrachaev - here's a tiny cheat from me (sorry, babes, lmao) because technically this isn't one fic, but a series of three. Way too amazing to miss out on, though!! Set mid-season 7, this has the Chronicoms go after a young Mary Sue Poots to kill Quake before she can become a problem for them. They stop the Chronicoms, yes, but not without a TREMENDOUS dose of feels and hurt/comfort. There's also a wonderful little dose of Dekesy friendship, and then an adult adoption (!!) that honestly made my entire day to read. Actually, that's true for the entire series - I really canNOT yell about it enough!!

destroyer of worlds by @bobbimorseisbisexual - a study in incredible parallels between Jiaying's daughters. Utterly breathtakingly done, this will give you ALL the feels for this small and complex Inhuman family.

Muscle Memory by @robotgort and @bobbimorseisbisexual - a Huntingbird!! Bones!! AU!! And also a collaboration between two of the most fabulous Huntingbird authors in the fandom - honestly, what more can you ask for?! This will make you laugh, and gasp, and wince, and keep you guessing at each new plot twist (and also screaming at your screen for Hunter and Bobbi to get their acts together and TALK ABOUT IT.) In short: it's completely and utterly amazing, and I cannot, cannot recommend it enough!!

You Belong Among the Wildflowers by @libbyweasley - a freaking incredible Scis & Spies Regency AU! I only just started reading, but I was hooked all the way through, especially on the way Libby writes all four characters' complex relationships (and their attraction, and their history!) Everything about it is just completely stunning, and I for one cannot WAIT for these beautiful idiots to figure out they all belong together.

Family Snapshot by @tomatobookworm - if it's family fluff you're after, especially Staticquake family fluff, look no further! This tremendously soft and utterly amazing fic follows a day in the lives of a pregnant Daisy and her husband Lincoln, and their not-so-little family of Inhumans, both adopted and biological. There's also shopping with Grandma May, lots of feels, lots of shippiness, and just AMAZINGNESS all the way through!!

Best Day Ever by @loved-the-stars-too-fondly - Jemma and Daisy want to adopt a pet, and make a very special trip to Wisconsin to do it. Also, whether he knows who he is or not, Jemma has an important question to ask Cal - and just, AHHHH, everything about this is utterly stunning! For starters, Aubrey's writing is FANTASTIC, and the scene she sets is absolutely beautiful, and so very bittersweet. I was actually misting up a little with happy tears towards the end of this - really, I cannot recommend this enough, to any Skimmons fan.

so why don't we go somewhere only we know by @loved-the-stars-too-fondly - more Skimmons (platonic this time, though), more hurt/comfort, and, yes, again, more absolutely INCREDIBLE writing. This one is canon compliant, following a shaken Jemma struggling to sleep after Maveth, and how Daisy finds a way to help her out. Incredibly sweet, tender and BEAUTIFULLY written, this one was an instant favourite the moment I read it!

Unspoken by @anxiouslynumbme - a birthday fic for yours truly, and, honestly, one of the most STUNNING Staticquake introspectives I've read. It follows Daisy and Lincoln in a beautifully tender missing moment in season 3, with them both realising their feelings, and just... AHHHHHHHH, everything about it is utterly incredible!! I cannot, cannot recommend this gem of a fic enough

the thing about water droplets and ruffled hair by @que-mint-tea - here's another fic that proves, once and for all, how good Kat's Dekesy is, because it managed to convert T to write some Dekesy smut. And, oh my GOSH, what Dekesy smut - so goshdarn angsty, but so FANTASTICALLY characterised and written that it leaves you more than a little breathless, and gaping at your screen. The first chapter initially left us on the most HORRIFIC cliffhanger, but then T fixed it, and it's just... this thing is really a whole new level of emotional writing, raw and gripping and intensely perfect for both of these characters. My haw still drops whenever I think of this thing, and how utterly AMAZING it was, so yeah. Fic rec!!!

beautiful stranger, there you are by @justanalto - I do believe I still owe Serena a long and very gushy comment on this thing, because, MAN, does it ever deserve that!! Pipsy and fake dating, with the most HILARIOUSLY incredible writing, plot and characterisation, and honestly just a giddy "askhdfkhsfh" whenever I think back to how much I enjoyed it. Yup, it was that good.

Jumping to conclusions by @eowima - a very special one, because it marks my love Océane's first venture into writing AoS fic! It's an AU of 1x06 (the Fitzsimmons episode of s1) where Fitz does actually jump out of the plane to save Jemma. Realisations of feelings, and some of the most genuinely FANTASTIC Fitz characterisation I've read in a while, follow - and, yup, I was shouting at my screen for them just to get together already. Amazing stuff, really!!

Look into your eyes and the sky's the limit by @eowima - okay, this. This. Another gift for me, and one that I will probably treasure forEVER, because it is just?? so?? utterly?? perfect?? Just for starters, the title is a Hamilton reference - and then the theme of Hamilton references continues into the fic itself, I'm delighted to say. There's also the most BEAUTIFUL, playful Skimmons friendship, and teasing, and then of course the bet about who can make out with their crush first... Staticquake & Fitzsimmons perfection. And all rendered in Océane's delightful, best-thing-ever-to-read writing!! I'm going into a giddy keyboard smash just THINKING about this, so yeah, cannot recommend it enough.

lullabies and clear blue skies by @springmagpies and @bobbimorseisbisexual - okay, I never thought I'd catch myself shipping FitzBobbi, let alone shipping it this hard, but... wow. Maggie and Al teamed up to completely blow me away, and MELT MY WHOLE ENTIRE HEART with the sheer cuteness of this!! It features Fitz, Bobbi and adopting two daughters, and it's just the most tender, beautiful development through that little family - I love it so, so much.

We made all the wrong choices by @browneyedgenius - the winner of the AoS Angst War 2020, how could I not include this one? It is such a well-deserved win, though, whoa - I was sobbing, full-on sobbing, at least twice while reading. It follows the season 5 team through the events of the time-loop, after they failed to save the world - and, oh my gosh, it ripped my heart right out of my chest, but beautifully so. Everything about this fic just hits so hard, and it's written so well - yeah, really a most AMAZINGLY deserved win, for an utterly SHATTERINGLY incredible fic.

I threw stones at the stars (but the whole sky fell) by @nazezdha321 - this is Z showing us all how to write a backstory for a minor character, and write it so well that everyone's hearts break all over again when she dies. This one is about Victoria Hand, and it builds a stirring and profound childhood for her, also making her rise through the ranks of SHIELD and just her entire character mean so much more. Really, fic-wise, this is goals, and I take my hat off to you, Z, 1000%, for writing it.

in which the universe is put together by @besidemethewholedamntime - Rebecca's emotional writing, particularly Fitzsimmons' emotions, is incomparable, and she proves it all over again in this fic. If follows Fitz and Jemma before, after and during the bloodwork, and I just... wow, honestly. The emotion!! And the characterisation!! Absolutely stunning, and honestly all I could wish for in a we-had-time fic.

Agents of SHIELD Season 8 by @egumal - THIS. This, this, this, oh my gosh - as fix-it fics go, this has to be the most spectacular one I have ever read. What it does is find a way - a potentially canon compliant way, too - to bring back Lincoln Campbell, and reunite Staticquake. Basically: just about as season 7 finishes, the Astro Ambassadors get an unexpected visitor from another timeline, who asks them to come help out against Hive. Case in point, Daisy meets her lost love again (... but he has no idea who she is) and also has to relive the Fallen Agent drama. It all gets even more complicated when Kora restores Lincoln's memories, and Daisy meets the full team Deke has assembled around him in the 33 years (for him) that they've been apart... in short, this is one of the most thorough, well-written and downright SHOCKING plot-twist-wise fics that you will ever read, and honestly, saying "I can't recommend it enough" is an understatement. This thing is thd BEST, plain and simple!

Black Roses aren't real (but you and I are) by @ohwriteiforgot - ahhhh, a fic that will always have an incredibly special place in my heart, because it introduced me to one of my best fandom friends. The main focus is on Clintasha, it's true, but it's also a crossover with AoS in the sense that Clint was adopted by Coulson and May. Also, Daisy is his little sister, and their bond is gold. Also - there's Staticquake!! And flower shops!! And rivals to friends to lovers!! All I'm going to say is, what more can you ask for?!

A book to shield my story by @maybebrilliant - Staticquake High School AU, ahhhhhhhh!! There are only two chapters out so far, but the way this is shaping up is making my DAY - with Daisy as the new girl who meets Lincoln and his group of friends, and, though her foster parents are absolutely shit, starts to find actual happiness in a school for the first time in her life. Also - THE REFERENCES. Guys. I'm crazy for those, and in this book, so are my favourite dorks, Daisy and Lincoln - and let me tell you, it's nothing short of the best thing ever.

This AoS Finale Gif Edit by @heysteverogers - AoS really has been the most INCREDIBLE journey through the years, but what's really made it special is the company - and that's summed up perfectly in this gorgeous gifset. Also, the graphics on this are just, ahhhh, stunning - I'm in awe, and I've spent very long periods of time just looking at this thing in a state of heart-eyes.

This AoS Finale Gif Edit by @jemannesimms - combining Auld Lang Syne and the final scenes of my favourite show was a raw emotional - but utterly brilliant experience - for me. It's just so absolutely beautiful, and perfectly suited to the team, and their goodbyes!! Breathtaking editing work here, too.

This Daisy as Peter Parker and May as Tony Stark moodboard by @agentsofcomedyandchaos - ahhhh, a crossover of two of my favourite fandoms!! And what a lovely one, too - the colour scheme, quotes, and just the whole FEEL of this is absolutely genius, and I am guilty of being inspired by way too many fic ideas by it. Stunning stuff!!

And... whoa, that was long, but I really do feel that we deserve a bit of a proper pat on the back after creating such magical content in such a messed up year. So that's the note I'm going to leave you with for 2020, my friends: hell-year or no, look at the absolute beauty we were still able to create!! We really are freaking amazing, guys.

[evanstanwrites]

The CEO -1-

The beginning and the end?

summary:  y/n Photographer meets James Bucky Barnes CEO of White Wolf Industry, they fall head over heels for each other. But Bucky has many secrets, will she find out who or what he really is? And more so will she accept it or will she run as far as she can when she finds out?

A/N: based on elements of an rp with the lovely @loricameback​

A/N: proofreaded by my favo kiwi: @pawfect-melody​ 

moodboard below by @imanuglywombat​

warnings: mostly fluff and a small bit of angst at the end

The CEO masterlist

y/n couldn't believe her eyes when she saw the email. She had walked into her small studio office early this morning with her favorite Starbucks drink and a breakfast snack in her hands. She was first to arrive, even if the only other person working with her was Mia. y/n had opened her own photo studio only last year after being stuck at an office job for her entire working life. She hated the job but it paid well so she was able to save a good amount of money, only needing to take out a small loan with the banks so she could finally achieve her big dream: owning her own studio and being a freelance photographer. Mia helped her mostly with the business side of things and managing appointments, she was a godsend most of the time and one of her best friends. 

After setting her stuff down on her desk she was actually surprised Mia wasn’t there yet, Mia was usually the first to arrive and layers deep in work by the time she arrived.

Just when y/n sat down and started up her laptop Mia burst into the room with one of the biggest smiles on her face.   

“good you’re already here,” she says as she drops her stuff on her own desk. "Have you read the emails already?" 

"No, I just arrived myself but I was planning on checking them right now." She said as she opened the email app and scrolled through the new mails. "I already checked them last night from home. There is one, in particular, that is very interesting and I think is one of the best opportunities we have ever gotten. Scratch that it is the best." Mia rambles on like a kid with ADHD. Y/n pulled up the email she was talking about and began to read. 

Dear miss y/l/n,

I write to you on behalf of the White Wolf industry, seeing as our company has started a new campaign we see it necessary to complete this with media attention as well. Our CEO Mr. James Barnes has recently had an interview with the New York Times magazine and in addition to the interview will require professional photographers. Mr. Barnes personally requested your employment in this task if you so wish to accept. 

Contact our office on (000-000-000) to arrange a time and a place which best suits yours and Mr.Barnes needs. 

We look forward to your swift reply.

Sincerely,

White Wolf Industry 

Y/n couldn't believe her eyes as she reread the email over and over again. 

"Is this for real or am I dreaming Mia?" Y/n asked amazed

"It's real." Mia squealed enthusiastically "this is gonna be your big breakthrough y/n, THE James Barnes, CEO of the biggest company in New York and you're going to take his picture. Not to mention that he’s smoking hot"

Bucky had been working for many hours when Steve knocked on his open office door, entered and shut it behind him. 

“Buck, tell me you're only just in and haven’t been here all morning” Steve said as he sat down in front of Bucky’s desk knowing well enough that wasn’t the case. 

“ Seems like you already know the answer to that question, Stevie” Bucky said without looking up from his laptop.

“Man, you’re gonna kill yourself overworking. Did you forget this is only a front and you actually don’t have to do all that work by yourself, you’ve people working for you, you know.” 

Bucky only rolled his eyes not really responding to that, what kind of mob boss would he be if he didn’t play the part of the front that protected his true job and the people who were working for him. 

“So you take on the collecting rounds today, take Sam with you, I don’t want him around when miss Y/l/n arrives.” he said and Steve chuckles “Yeah I’ll take him wouldn’t want you to miss your shot.” 

Of course Bucky had looked the woman up when he came across her work, her work was amazing and he felt like he had to get to know her, meet her in person, so he looked up everything he could find out about her. So when the opportunity occurred and he needed his pictures taken for an interview he had done he immediately demanded her.

“Okay get going now, I pay you to work not to sit around and make fun of me.” Bucky barks only half-joking. 

Y/n didn’t know why she was nervous, maybe because this could be her biggest breakthrough or the fact that after she had called to make the appointment, now a week ago, she had looked up more information about Mr. Barnes. She hadn’t found out much other than the standard information about the company he was CEO of and a picture of a man with a buzzcut, sharp cheekbones and the deepest blue eyes you could drown in. 

Y/n took a few deep breaths after she had parked her car in the underground parking lot, Mia had called in sick that morning so she would have to face this job alone today. But just as she got out of her car a beautiful young woman walked towards her and greeted her with a smile. Apparently she was Mr. Barnes’s assistant, Sophie and she was tasked with greeting and helping her with anything she might need. 

so that’s how an hour later she found herself in an empty conference room, tables pushed to the side and equipment set up with the help of Sophie. 

“Thank you so much for all the help setting up.” y/n says to her as she leads her through the hallway till she stops in front of two beautiful wooden carved doors, clearly this was Mr. Barnes’s office and she would finally meet him. Sophie knocked on the door, entered and announced y/n’s arrival.

“Well don’t let her stand there let her in” she heard his warm voice call out before Sophie stepped out of the way and motioned for her to walk in. When she did she had to make sure that her mouth didn’t fall open, god he’s even more gorgeous in person and Mia was totally right he looks like sex on legs in his black fitted suit with no tie, leaving a bit of his chest and the small golden chain visible.  

“Miss Y/l/n, please come in” he says with a smile as he stands up to greet her and waved his hand to one of the chairs in front of his desk. As soon as she stepped deeper into his office the doors behind her closed and she was left alone with the hunk of a man. “It’s nice to meet you miss y/l/n, I’ve been looking forward to working with you” he says holding his hand out for her to shake. y/n walks deeper into the office and takes his offered hand, ‘wow his hands are so soft and warm, god I bet they’d feel amazing in other areas’ she thought to herself but had enough self-control to say “the pleasure is all mine, Mr. Barnes, I can’t say thank you enough for this opportunity.” 

“Please call me Bucky” he says while giving her one of his brightest smiles, making her want to melt in a puddle at his feet.

“Well only if you call me y/n.”

“You got yourself a deal” he says as they both sit down on the chairs in front of his desk. The conversation flowed easily between them, at first, it mainly stayed with professional talk but as time went on it started to feel more like two friends talking and the conversation also turned in that direction. It seemed like they had only been talking a few minutes when Sophie had knocked on the door to remind Bucky of his lunch reservation in the bistro downstairs. He had thanked her and invited y/n to join him during lunch under the claim of a work lunch but they both know work wouldn’t be the subject of conversation. As predicted their work lunch turned out actually more like a lunch date seeing as they both didn’t hold back the flirting that went on between them. 

Once lunch was over they both fell back into their professional self and they started the actual photoshoot, she had to admit he was a very easy model and one hell of a photo genetic man, like could this man ever be in a bad photo?  Once she had enough pictures she started to clean up her stuff together with Bucky’s help, which he offered himself not taking a no for an answer, but sadly it didn’t last long because once again Sophie came in to remind him of an appointment, this time for what seemed an important meeting. 

Bucky said goodbye to her with a sweet kiss to her cheek and a promise to get in touch with her later on.  

Later on turned out to be just half an hour later, just as y/n had arrived back at her office when a text message arrived on her phone.

“Thank you for today sweetheart, I had a real good time getting to know you and I know for sure those pictures will turn out to be amazing ;-). x Bucky”

‘How the hell did he get my phone number? I don’t remember giving it to him’ she thought but blushing as she read the pet name before shrugging to herself and typing her response.

“Well with a model like you I’m totally sure of that, there is not one bad picture I took of you. I had a blast working with you :-)” 

“I’m glad you think so sweetheart. Would you like to have dinner with me?”

of course she accepted and it turned out to be a regular occurrence and they went out for lunch or dinner almost every two days. When they weren’t together they were texting or calling each other, after two weeks she felt like she had known him all her life, she had never felt a connection like that with someone before and before she actually really realized it she was falling for him, hard. In week three their flirting was almost nonstop so she thought to herself that he had to feel the same way if he kept asking her out and flirted with her like that. She decided that she had to say something, she had to tell him how she felt, she wanted to know where they stood and if this was going somewhere. 

So that evening when he picked her up for dinner she asked for him to come in for a minute.

“Everything alright sweetheart, is there something wrong?” he asked as he sat down in front of her on her couch.

“No there is nothing wrong, I just wanted to talk to you about something important” she said clearly nervous making him worry a bit. He shuffled forward so he could take her hands in his running his thumbs over her skin trying to give her the comfort she apparently needed to say what she clearly wanted to tell him. “You know you can tell me anything sweetheart” to which she nodded before taking a deep breath. “I’m falling for you, hard. And I wanted you to know because I feel like maybe there is a chance you might feel the same and I wanted to know where we stood. Like is there even an us?” she rambled luckily he stopped her with just a look, a big smirk on his face. “Sweetheart, of course there is an us. I’m head over heels for you.” 

And before she knew it he had her on his lap, lips and tongues entangled with each other in a passionate embrace, their dinner date clearly forgotten as they had only want for each other.

Being in a relationship with Bucky Barnes felt like the best thing that had happened to her, he always made sure she felt loved and cared for, he gave her his full attention whenever they were together, even sent her flowers every few days. He made her happy and she could only hope that she made him as happy too. But after a while, things started to feel off. There were times that he’d be very secretive about either his job or things he did in his free time whenever they weren’t together, like where he’d go every Wednesday and be totally unreachable. She felt like there were things he kept from her, things he never wanted her to find out. Thoughts started to run through her mind from the stupidest things to the thought that maybe she wasn’t his only girlfriend that maybe he was cheating on her?

A part of her questions got answered on a Wednesday afternoon when she was taking pictures for a job in a park not far away from Bucky’s office. She was taking pictures of all the different kinds of flowers and plants when suddenly a man walked through her line of view, Bucky. But he wasn’t alone, what seemed to be a four year old was sitting on his arm with her arms holding him tightly around his neck and a stuffed monkey in her hand as she giggled at something he said to the little girl that oddly looked a lot like him. From their interaction, you could easily see he loved the little girl dearly, it was obvious to her that this must be his daughter. But why didn’t he tell her that he had a little girl? Then she started thinking about all the other things he held back from her and started to tear up at her conclusion, how could he do this to her, to anyone actually. She had to end this, she had to end her relationship with Bucky Barnes, clearly a married man with a daughter.

tags:

@marvelgirl7​ @imanuglywombat​ @loricameback​ @aesthetical-bucky​ @feelmyroarrrr​ @huskygreatdane  @cap-just-said-language​ @sebastianstans-girl​ @seasaurusrrex​ @lolabean1998​

[matildashoney]

Loving You’s the Antidote: Chapter Nine

MASTERLIST // MOODBOARD // TAG LIST // TAGS // PLAYLIST

TAG LIST: @ihearthemcallingforyou​​, @cock-a-doodely-do, @detroitkiwis, @goldenfeelin​​, @wherearethewatermelons​

talk to me about it! feedback is greatly appreciated!

this chapter contains themes of anxiety, depression, and sexual content. please read with caution.

Harry had never contemplated asking a pilot to fly faster before today. His appearance was masked by a sweatshirt, sunglasses, and a beanie – the one that his girlfriend despises – and his suitcase was left on the tour bus in a hurry, only his knapsack tucked under his feet. His foot tapped incessantly on the floor of the plane, an embarrassed smile creeping on his lips to the man sitting in the seat next to him. Opting for a commercial flight, Harry was taking a risk, especially with the concern that paparazzi seem to take towards the band now that the hiatus is only a few months away. Harry didn’t need anyone bombarding him about his sudden reappearance in California, especially when his relationship will still under the radar.

All Harry needed was Amelie, to be with her.

Harry called Jenny as soon as Amelie declined his call for the third time. Offering to pick him up from the airport, Jenny was waiting outside LAX at promptly nine in the morning. Coffee in hand, Harry rushes into her car, greeting her with a kiss to the cheek and a pat to her growing tummy, the awkwardness lingering in the air as the traffic begins.

“Have you spoken to her?” Harry wonders hopefully, his thumb tracing the circumference of the cap and taking large sips of the burning coffee to bring the energy. “None of my texts are going through.”

“Amelie usually turns her phone off when she’s spiralling,” Jenny explains, her knuckles rubbing at her eyes as the car pulls to a stop at a red light. “Do you know what happened? Everything was going so well. I hadn’t seen her that happy in a long time, Harry. I mean, Los Angeles Art Project and you and Paris. Thought everything was fine.”

“Nothing you could’ve done, Jenny,” Harry says, squeezing her shoulder comfortingly and forcing a smile. “On her way to San Diego, they went to the café and Jack was there.”

“Oh my god, for fuck’s sake. Can’t he just leave her alone? God, tell me what the hell is gotten out of harassing her, at this point!”

“God, the things Jack said to Ames,” Harry trails, shaking his head at the thought of how foully she was spoken to – about him – nonetheless. “Bastard had the audacity to use me to get under her skin. He’s lucky I don’t go to him, right now.”

“You can’t,” Jenny sterns, shaking her head and taking the exit into the Hollywood Hills. “That’s what Amelie is talking about. There’s too much repercussion that’ll come of it. Go and be there for her. Amelie needs you more than Jack needs to be knocked in the mouth.”

“Amelie has never, like,” Harry gulps, pursing his lips together and willing himself not to cry at the thought. He has his – Amelie’s original – copy of their novel tucked in his knapsack with his phone and his wallet, his keys sitting nervously in his palm. His hands are sweating with the idea, unsure if he truly wants to know the answer.

“No,” Jenny interrupts. “Amelie has never done that. Never really took to the path of hurting herself. Hurt a lot of canvasses, though. Fay used to have to go into her room at night and throw out the slashed ones.”

“Amelie slashed canvasses,” Harry whispers, his sight fading into the sunrise on his street, his house vaguely in the view.

“Amelie’s art used to showcase her, believe it or not,” Jenny mutters, running her fingers through her hair and having her mind take her to the memories that reminisced of their early adolescence. “God, Harry, you should have seen it. Used to have drawings of her body and decorate it in flowers and trees. Amelie was basically the Goddess of Spring if there ever was one. Once that happened, she started slashing all the paintings that were a resemblance of her with one of the knives she used for opening her tools and marking out outlines.”

“Christ,” Harry mumbles, his heart breaking in his chest. “Wonder if she’ll ever get back to that, to making that.”

“One of her pieces for the exhibit is,” Jenny smiles earnestly, her eyes etched in pain and upset. Her features adorned concerned and worry, and there is an unspoken sentiment that Harry must tell her that everything is alright when they are together. “Don’t doubt that you’ve been helping. This is just a setback. Amelie is a strong girl. Always gets back on her feet.”

“Am I going to make things worse?”

“Absolutely not,” Jenny reassures, squeezing Harry’s knee comfortingly. Unlocking the car, she soothingly rubs Harry’s back, encouraging him to step out and make his way inside. Her soft smile is slightly assuring as her vehicle pulls away. “Bring her back to us, Harry.”

Harry nods understandingly, walking to the front door and heaving a breath at the scent wafting through the foyer, undeniably her. There was something comforting about Amelie’s scent filling his home, simply knowing that her presence was there, that her eyes would meet his and he would kiss her lips and hold her in his arms making the tightness in his chest alleviate slightly.

His lungs feel tight walking up the stairs, too much pressure in his chest with unknowing. He isn’t quite sure what he’s walking into, and there hasn’t been any time to really prepare himself. The only thing that Harry has done is read the ending of their novel, and all that that did was make his anxiety heighten. Truth be told, Harry had accepted that he couldn’t live without Amelie.

Amelie is the sun, the stars, the moon, the alignment of Jupiter and Pluto and all of the colours all at once. She is his safe place, the love of his life, the person that makes him feel at home. And the idea of never seeing her again made him feel as though he would fall apart at the seams.

That’s how you feel when you love someone. And, fuck, Harry loves her.

Opening the door, Harry’s lip quivers when he sees her. Curtains are drawn, lights darkened, the duvet pulled tightly over her body that seemed much too small to inhabit the bed alone. There is a breath of fresh air wafting through his nose at the draining sight, although he could barely see her chest rise and fall with a breath, that was enough to make a tear fall down his cheek. Her body nudges into the centre of the mattress, and Harry nearly sobs knowing that she is making room for him, that she wants him.

Kicking his shoes on the carpet, Harry yanks his dirtied sweats away from his hips and leaves his shirt trailing behind. Clambering beneath the duvet, his arms immediately wrap tightly around her waist, hugging her so tight that she nearly can’t breathe against him. His hand gently slips up her shirt, and she knows what he’s reaching for. His palm lays against her heart, physically feeling her heart beat against his skin. His face hides into her neck, a choked out sob breaking into her skin. He breathes her in, soaking in the feeling of her breathing, beating, warm in his arms.

His breath is shaky as he sighs, Amelie lifting his hand to have her lips touch his knuckles, her fingers wrapping around his, his grip around her hips holding her to his chest. “Hi,” Amelie mutters shyly, his fingertips touching her lips, his forehead laying against the back of her neck, the feeling of her warm lips on his skin making his chest deflate.

“You,” Harry stutters, gulping back the sob that sits at the base of his throat, “you can’t turn your phone off and decline m’calls when I’m thousands of miles away.” His breath is hot on her skin as he holds her as close as physically possible, almost impossible to breathe. “You can’t scare me like that.”

There are so many unspoken words lingering uncomfortably in the air. All that Harry is afraid to say. All that Amelie doesn’t want to admit.

“I wasn’t thinking, I’m sorry,” she apologises, pressing his hand tighter against her heart. “You should know that I would never leave you.”

Amelie knows what Harry feared most, and the thought tears her apart.

Harry chokes out a sob, his fingertips pinching the bridge of his nose as he attempts to will back the tears. He can barely look at Amelie without the thoughts running through his head. Gently taking his hand away from her heart, his grip loosens reluctantly as she rolls to her side, her hand cupping his cheek, brushing away a tear. “I really thought I was going to come home, and I would have lost you.”

“Why would you think that?” she questions, kissing the corner of his lips delicately, desperately trying to show that she is there and coax him to look at her, to see her. Amelie never meant to scare him this badly.

Anxiety, depression – it’s never gone. On occasion, the spirals will return and there are days where she can’t answer her phone. There are days where she simply cannot get out of bed. That’s why her flight to see him was missed. Amelie should have called; she should have told him. She knew that, but knowing Harry, he would have cancelled everything, backed out of the show, to fly home to be with her, and she couldn’t live with herself knowing he would be on edge at all times if he knew.

“On the flight, I reread the end of the book.” Harry doesn’t have to elaborate for Amelie to know what he’s talking about. “Wanted to hear you, hear your voice, and all the highlighted parts I can always hear you read to me. But I couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that there are times that you’re in pain and I can’t do anything about it. Feel so helpless.” Another tear falls down his cheek. “Genuinely scared the shit out of me.”

“I’m really sorry I scared you,” Amelie breathes, her voice barely above a whisper, speaking as though not another person could hear what she is saying to him. “Harry, you’re here, always here, when I need you. That’s enough.”

Is that enough, though? Is it really? Harry desperately wants to say.

“Don’t make me lose you like that.” Harry squeezes his eyes shut; remaining tears caught on Amelie’s thumbs. “There are so many people that love you, that adore you. I am fucking obsessed with you. There’s absolutely no one that could be you. I’ll do anything to make sure you’re alright.” His words are a mixture of pleading and a demand for her, and she can feel her heart shattering into pieces. “’m begging you to not leave me like that, to do that.”

“Swear to you, I won’t.” For the first time in a very long time, she makes a promise, a swear, that she wants to keep. “Look at me, baby. I’m here.”

Amelie can see the tears welling in Harry’s eyes, the way their eye contact is bittersweet. He isn’t angry with her – he really couldn’t ever be – there was simply a sadness washing over him. Harry wants Amelie to be alright, and the idea that he isn’t able to make that happen is devastating. He rotates slightly, lying on his back, staring mindlessly at the ceiling for a moment. Harry should feel better, knowing all that she’s said to him, and yet there is a nagging in his mind that needs him to know that Amelie is okay, that she loves him.

“Can you kiss me, please? Bisous, s’il vous plait.” Harry knows in their kiss, in the way Amelie holds his cheeks and her heart beats a little faster, the way her lips are seemingly made to be slanted on his, that everything would be okay. There wasn’t a word to describe the feeling.

Amelie nods, manoeuvring her body to her knees, her breath fanning over his lips. Holding his cheeks in her hands, her mouth mends with him, their lips perfectly aligned, tasting each other in the most desperate way, feeling the way their hearts beats against their chests at the same rhythm. His hands delicately hold her fingers on his face, her eyes fluttered closed and every part of her skin ignites. Harry’s love radiates through Amelie, his fear closely behind. There wasn’t a way to take back the way she made him feel, but every part of her wanted to assure him that she would be alright. Amelie wants – needs – Harry to know that she loves him unconditionally, that he is the reason she is finding everything in herself to feel better, to be better.

“You are everything to me; I need you to know that,” Amelie says breathlessly, her mouth pulling away from his reluctantly and meeting his stare, his lips parted and pink from the way her touch ignited him. Harry’s hand caresses her cheek, his thumb tracing over her lips and taking in the sight, almost in disbelief that she is real and in front of him. “Harry, you are the reason I want to be better. You remind me I can feel better, baby.”

His heart warms at the name, the way it falls perfectly from her lips. “Come here,” he whispers, sighing as he sits against the headboard, his lips curving into a sad smile as he takes in the sight of her in his shirt, the material clinging to her thighs. His hands gently coast along her skin, his thumbs rubbing over her hips and taking in the way her hands lightly cup his neck. “Mon ange, you know if you need me, ‘m on the first flight home, right? Sur le premier vol de départ.”

“Know that,” she sighs, her fingers brushing the stray curls away from his face. “Hope you know that when you’re here, I don’t feel any pain, I don’t feel any hurt. You are everything that is good.” Amelie cards her fingertips through Harry’s hair, bringing her lips to his, his hands splaying across her back, holding her as tightly to him as physically possible.

“Missed you, and your lips, and your hugs,” Harry murmurs, his thumb dragging along her lips, smiling slightly at the way she kisses his fingertip. “Might have freaked Niall out. Left this morning without telling anyone.” His lips touch Amelie’s hair as she circles her arms around his shoulders and lay her cheek on his shoulder. “Want you to come with me when I have to leave.”

“Alright,” Amelie agrees, chastely kissing his cheek, her lips sponging kisses along his face. “Need you to stop feeling guilty – you couldn’t have done anything to prevent the spiral.”

“Could have been with you.”

“Baby,” she whispers, taking her face from his shoulder and gently coaxing his eyes to meet hers, “I think you would have had a harder time seeing me this way and having to accept that you can’t fix it.”

Harry nods understandingly. “Are you okay, now? Feeling slightly better, I mean.”

“Much better,” Amelie smiles, her fingertips wiping the stray tear from his skin. “Could never tell you in words how much it means to me that you’re here.”

“Ames, I’d give up everything for you. All you have to do is ask.”

Amelie’s lip wobbles, her eyes welling with tears as she stares at Harry, this man that loves her more than she could possibly understand. More than anything, she wants to tell him that she loves him, that her heart is beating entirely to be in love with him. Harry smiles, kissing the corner of her mouth and combing his fingers through her hair. His eyes take in the coated pink, the pastel colour fading at the curls that circle at her shoulders.

“Need a shower,” Amelie breathes, pouting her lips as she slips out of his warm embrace. Holding her hands out for him, she interlocks their fingers and leads the way into ensuite. “Come with me.”

“Already dragging me in there, aren’t you?” Harry smirks, his heart warm at the giggle that slips from her lips. “You have me properly whipped, I’d do whatever you asked me to.”

Cheeks blushing pink, Amelie turns away from Harry’s stare and steps awkwardly into the shower to turn the faucet on. Harry leans against the wall, his eyes travelling across the expanse of her body, taking in every inch of skin, undeniably staring and searching for any distressed marks on her skin.

Quickly stripping from his briefs, Harry follows Amelie, stepping into the steam and sighing as the warm water hits his skin. His lips touch her forehead, his heart swelling in his chest as she wraps her arms around his waist and hugs him tightly. His hands smoothed her damp hair, squeezing a light amount of shampoo and beginning to massage her scalp as she lays her cheek against his chest and thinks quietly to herself.

As much as Amelie wanted, Harry was not the cure to anything. Although it felt like an easier option, love could never cure the depression or anxiety. That was simple to know. Over the years, she has learnt that it was her choice, her will to find a way to live and breathe and cope. However, Harry has surely become a reason to do all of those things.

Amelie met and fell in love with a person willing and wanting to understand her. She found a person that made her feel safe and loved and cared for. She found a best friend, a lover, a partner that would adore her. And more than anything, she wants to be able to love him fully, irrevocably. As much as she has been told that you can only love someone if you love yourself, she finds that to be incorrect. Harry shows so much love, that it makes much more sense for Amelie love herself, to love him in return.

Harry gently tips her head under the sputtering water, smiling at the way her lips purse into a tight line at the feeling of the water falling in her eyes. Kissing her nose, he soaks in the way her mouth is turned in a smile and her eyes meet his. “Do you mind if I jump out? Have an idea and I want to write it down before I lose it.”

“Alright,” Amelie smiles, kissing his cheek lightly. “I’ll be over here.”

“And where else would you go?” Harry laughs, shaking his head and bringing his sponge to his skin, cleaning the grime on him and rinsing beneath the water.

“I don’t know, Mr Styles,” she smirks, giggling as his eyes roll at the name. “Maybe I’ll disappear to Narnia, who knows?”

“Thought we gave up that name,” he grumbles, his eyes squinting at her as she grins, the crinkles at the corner of her eyes on display. His lips hurriedly make their way to her, as if the moment was too much to not be ended with a kiss. “Love when you smile like that.”

“Go write down your ideas before you forget,” she insists, her palms laying against his tummy, her eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks as fingertips comb through her hair. “I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

Harry grabs a towel from the hook, his towel slightly to the side of hers, the sight making butterflies swirl in his stomach. Amelie was everywhere – her toothbrush near the sink, her makeup under the counter, her towel and her robe tucked away neatly – and the thought of her ever going anywhere makes the air knocked out of his lungs. He walks into the wardrobe, slipping on briefs and his jeans, a patterned shirt buttoned on his torso and left slightly open to reveal the swallows on his chest.

Going into the bedroom, the bathroom door closes slightly to give her a moment of peace. He settles at the vanity in the corner of the room – the one he bought for her when she started staying over more often – taking the journal out of his knapsack and opening to a fresh page. His fingertips work quickly, writing down the words lingering in his brain from their conversation and emotions overflowing in his chest.

Think I might give up everything just ask me to. I’ve got scars, even though they can’t always be seen, and pain gets hard, but now you’re here and I don’t feel a thing. I can feel your heart inside of mine.

Amelie is quiet leaving the ensuite, careful to not disturb Harry and interrupt his train of thought. Her hair tucked into a towel, an oversized shirt clinging to her torso, loose jeans sitting on her hips, there is a feeling of comfort overwhelming her. Never would she have imagined that she would meet someone willing to fly seven hours to be with her. Harry has every ounce of love that Amelie could ever give anyone.

Harry smiles widely as Amelie wraps her arms around his shoulders, her lips touching his cheek and squeezing him tightly. “Hi, angel,” he says, turning his head to kiss her cheek, one hand holding her arms around him and the other splayed across the page.

“Hi, baby,” Amelie smiles, tucking her face into his neck and breathing him in. Her eyes fall to the lyrics written on the page, her lips sponging a kiss to the skin. He always talks about writing a song for her, but the sight of him actually writing one makes her heart soar. “Get all the ideas down?”

“Mhm,” Harry hums, squeezing her hand and turning in the chair, patting his thigh and encouraging her to sit with him. “Feel better?”

“Now that you’re here,” she grins, her fingertips scratching at the nape of his neck soothingly, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks at the sensation. “Want to go for a drive to the beach? The one in Malibu that we like.”

“That sounds nice.” Harry plants his lips on Amelie’s cheek. “Want to go pack a picnic for us? I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Going to be lunchtime soon and there will be loads of traffic,” Amelie reasons, pursing her lips together and staring at the time on Harry’s phone on the counter. “We should probably pick something up on the way.”

“Alright,” he says, pinching his lip between his fingertips nervously and tearing his eyes away from her. “Um, there’s a voicemail on your phone. Have you listened to it?”

Harry didn’t want Amelie to have to hear him say those words in a panicked voicemail. Originally, there was an elaborate plan to say it over dinner and dessert and cherish the memory in a way that neither of them had ever experienced before. Harry didn’t want her to feel forced to say it to him. He was perfectly alright with her saying it on her own time, in her own way. He knows that she loves him. He can feel it – feel it in the way they kiss, the way they make love, the way their hearts are always beating in the same time – and he is positive that she can feel it, too.

He wanted it to be more than a voicemail.

“Haven’t looked at my phone in days.”

“Okay,” Harry breathes, forcing a smile on his lips to ease the tension in her chest, his thumb smoothing over the crease in her brows. “Hey, I adore you.”

“I adore you, too,” Amelie says, pecking his lips, her hands planting on the vanity to stand. Her head nods towards her shoes and pointing towards his boots in the corner by the door. “Get your shoes on, Mr Styles. We have a beach to go to.”

Harry closes his notebook, a soft smile on his mouth as Amelie pokes her tongue between her lips, tying her shoes and smoothing the oversized sweatshirt covering her torso. Looking at his love, his heart beating fast and likely in the same rhythm as hers, Harry knows that he’s never written a truer lyric than what is scribbled on the dotted line.

~

Harry’s hand is clasped around Amelie’s, settled on her thighs, his thumb rubbing her skin lightly as she stares out the window. Her window is open, the wind hitting her cheeks and the sunlight piercing against her sunglasses, soaking in all that she missed. Pacific Coast Highway is crowded, everyone rushing to Malibu to take in the hot days and the bright sun and the cool waves before September comes and the weather begins to change. Sonny and the Sunsets is playing in the background, Fleetwood Mac ending right before they took the exit into the more secluded beaches.

“Know that ‘Golden Hour’ isn’t until sunset, but everything looks so pretty under the sun, today,” Amelie says, drawing Harry’s attention away from the directions and onto the pouring sunlight in front of them. Her eye for art never faded, even when she wasn’t intentionally finding something to create.

“Could say that you’re prettier,” Harry smirks, shaking his head at the puffed breath leaving his girlfriend’s lips. “Doll, you walked right into that one.”

Her cheeks flush with the compliment, squeezing his hand and breathing in the salt lingering in the air. “Never listened to the voicemail, like you asked,” she mentions, turning her head and bringing his hand to her lips persuasively. “Will you tell me what you said? Unless it’s bad, then I don’t want to hear it.”

“Promise not to jump out of the car,” Harry says, a breathy laugh leaving his lips at the way her jaw drops at the comment.

“Harry, that’s a bit dramatic,” she reasons, her fingertips drawing on his palm. Harry was right, that is something she would threaten, but there was no way Amelie would tell him that.

Harry’s eyebrows quirk upward as he turns to stare at her, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as a smirk pulls at his lips. He knows her. “Ames.”

“Okay, okay. We get it, I’m dramatic. Tell me something I don’t already know.”

“Going to tell you something I should’ve told you months ago,” Harry confesses, swiftly rolling up her window and quieting the volume on the radio. “Find it quite fitting that I’m telling you as we’re driving in the sun and our song is playing.”

“Our song.”

“Come on,” he teases, his thumb and his index finger loosening from their interlocked hands and squeezing her thigh playfully. “Too Young to Burn was the very first song you ever played me, the first song on a playlist we have. Feels like it was destined to be for us. Jupiter and Pluto aligning and all that.”

“All that, yeah,” she muses, poking his tummy and turning the volume even lower, nearly silent. “Can you please tell me what you were going to say?”

“Fine! Stop pestering me,” Harry groans, a smirk tugging at his lips with the way Amelie’s eyes roll at the comment. “Learnt a new phrase in French. Can you tell me if I’m saying it right?”

“That’s the big reveal,” Amelie says, her voice etched in sarcasm and dry humour. Her heart was warm with the sentiment, but that wouldn’t prevent the teasing that would ensue. “Baby, I’ve been teaching you French for nearly five months, I’m sure you’re fine.”

“No,” Harry draws, his voice hanging on every syllable clinging to his lips. His heart is pounding in his eardrums, his chest tight and his stomach turning with nerves. “You haven’t taught me this one.”

“Okay.”

He knows that this is where he should tell Amelie. Having her hand clasped in his, all of her attention set on him, the crashing waves and the sunlight and the beach in front of them, Harry doesn’t think he could have found a more perfect moment to tell her that he loves her.

“Je suis amoureux de toi.”

Amelie’s eyes gloss over, pushing her sunglasses into her hair, all of her attention set on the man squeezing her hand, professing his love to her in a language he’s learning for her. “Harry,” she whispers, tears stinging her eyes and her lip wobbling.

“Je suis amoureux de toi,” he repeats, turning his head slightly to see her. He kisses her hand lightly, holding his lips to her skin. “Je t'aime. I love you.” Her cheeks stain with tears, her lips spread into a grin, her attention so deeply focused that her mind clings to every word he says. “Don’t have to say it back, right now. Know that it’s a lot for you to say and you shouldn’t feel any pressure. I just, I couldn’t keep walking around feeling like I was scratching my throat by not telling you.”

Amelie swallows the anxiety in her throat, the nerves that make would prevent her from saying the words that have been sitting on her chest for months. Harry looks at her, and Amelie knows that he doesn’t expect anything from her. All he wants is to hold her hand and make her feel loved. And that is more than enough for her. “Harry, je t’aime.”

“You love me,” Harry says, the grin on his lips making the dimple in his cheek sink. His heart is pushing against his ribs with how swollen it feels, so much love pouring into him and into his lungs and the butterflies swirling in his tummy and all of the emotions that are overwhelming to his brain.

“Yeah, I do.”

Knowing he shouldn’t, Harry turns to look at Amelie, and there is something in his eyes that she has never seen before. He’s sparkling, emerald pupils shining beneath the sunlight, his lips pressing kissing into her hand and his smile wider than she’s ever seen. Outside the windshield is a beach filled to the brim with adults and children, laughter and talking and the crashing of waves, their corner space seemingly secluded and open only to them. Harry’s foot feels a bit heavier on the gas as he hurriedly pulls the car into park, his eyes carefully watching the camera to ensure he doesn’t drive too far, backing into the space to open the boot and leave them to picnic in the open air, uninterrupted.

“Harry,” she says suspiciously, narrowing her eyes as he jumps out of his seat, her words barely tumbling past her lips before the door was being shut behind him. Amelie is barely able to roll the window down, the glass only opening an inch before Harry is opening her door and swiftly unbuckling her seatbelt, her eyebrows furrowing together in confusion as he takes her hand and gently coaxes her out of the passenger seat. “Qu'est-ce que tu fais?”

“Ames,” Harry laughs, gently holding her neck, “you just told me you loved me, and your lips aren’t on mine. And, honestly, I fucking hate it.” Amelie leans onto her toes, pressing her lips against his, her hands gripping his shirt. Their mouths move rhythmically like they were created to only kiss each other. His breath is hot against her lips as he lightly pulls away, whispering against the plump flesh ready to capture his mouth in another kiss, “Je t'aime, je t'aime.”

~

Golden hour shines over the ocean, families reapplying their sun cream and drying toddlers under the umbrellas, lifeguards beginning to end their shifts and the young adolescents crowding the sand starting to leave before curfew. Harry is laid out on blanket they brought, biting into the apple that Amelie bought at the nearest market when they entered Malibu. Her hair is splayed over his thighs, her head in his lap, her knees propped up as she sketches the scenery before them. His head knocks back against the backseat, taking in the quiet landscape and the privacy that they found in the hidden spot. Harry loves touring, it’s his favourite part of the job, but he wouldn’t deny that he loves being home – more so the company that makes a home.

“Hey,” Amelie whispers, her eyes travelling from her sketch to her boyfriend, who is staring at her so intently that her cheeks tinge with a blush.

“Hi,” Harry smiles, brushing his fingers through her hair.

“Know that you said it’s alright,” she mutters, anxiety heavy in her chest with her thoughts, “but I’m sorry I can’t say the words, right now.”

“Mon ange, you said, je t’aime, that’s enough for me.” His tone is serious and firm, giving no space to question him. “Swear by it.”

Amelie nods, her lips in a tight line and a shy smile on her lips as she soaks in all of his words. Harry is silent for a minute, not wanting to rush her to speak, again. “I may or may not have a proposition for you.”

“Okay, I’m listening.”

Her lips purse together in thought, unsure how Harry would react to such a daring request. Amelie was impulsive, yes, however that doesn’t mean she hadn’t entirely thought this through. “I think you should give me my next tattoo,” she says, pulling her sweatshirt up her torso to reveal the bare skin on her sternum. “My moon.”

“Me,” Harry chuckles breathlessly, wrongfully assuming that Amelie wasn’t entirely serious. “Me, as in Harry Styles, your boyfriend, that’s a musician.”

“You, as in Harry Styles, my boyfriend, that’s a musician, who has a tattoo kit in his house, yes.”

Harry takes a deep breath, thinking about his words before opening his mouth. “Are you being impulsive? Have you been thinking about this?”

“Thanks, Harry,” she grumbles, rolling her eyes at the comment, taking her pencil and returning to her sketchbook.

“C’mon, I didn’t mean it like that,” he sighs, gently prying the pencil away from her and moving the sketchbook to sit on the opposite end of the blanket. “Meant that I don’t want you to regret me doing it. Have big on m’big toe, like a fuckin’ idiot.”

“Quite like that tattoo. Definitely shows who you are as a person,” she teases, smirking at him, his head shifting to plant a kiss on her forehead. “I’m not being impulsive, and I don’t think I’m going to regret my decision. I want you to give me my next tattoo.” Amelie drags her thumb along Harry’s bottom lip in the way he loves, knowing exactly how to get her way. “My moon. Ma lune.”

“Mon ange,” Harry breathes, his lips hovering over her mouth, thumbs tracing over her cheekbones, “you are positively crazy.”

“You know, that’s not you saying no.”

“Fine.”

Amelie’s lips spread into a grin, her hands reaching forward to shut the trunk, closing Harry inside with her. Her legs manoeuvre around the blanket and the sketchbook and the makeshift picnic, her thighs straddling his as her arms circle around his shoulders. Her mouth sponges light kisses along his jaw, the way her hips subtly grind against his making his knees jerk, bringing her body as physically close as possible. His tongue is warm as it drags along her bottom lip, his hands kneading into her bum and drawing a moan from her throat. Her hands tangle in his curls, her lips slanted rhythmically over his and their breath lost between kisses.

Harry gently lays her on the blanket, his hands quickly making work on her jeans, her hips lifting to meet his. His fingertips hold her waist in place, smirking against her mouth as she whines for his touch. He loves her. He loves her so much, that they are about to make love for the first time where they can say the three words in the most intimate setting.

Don’t want to make love to you in my car, Ames.

Harry reluctantly pulls away, squeezing his eyes together and pursing his lips, willing the tent in his jeans to ease enough that he could drive the hour home. His heart deflates when Amelie’s lips pout, knowing exactly why he’s pulled away. “I really don’t want to make love to you for the first time in m’car, Ames.”

“Didn’t know how corny you get when you’re in love,” Amelie teases, heaving a dramatic sigh and buttoning her jeans, laying her head back against the blanket and staring at him with tired eyes.

“Well, you’ve never complained before, so I take it you’ll get over it pretty quick.”

“I’m complaining, now, aren’t I?” Harry snorts at the remark, leaning in and making an attempt to kiss her cheek, feigning a gasp when she turns her face away. “Nope. Now, you’re going to have to wait an hour to touch me, because you want to be romantic,” Amelie smirks, opening the trunk once more and hopping onto the pavement. “Isn’t it a shame that you teased your girlfriend?”

Harry could agree, perhaps this decision was a rightful shame because one hour has never felt more like a pain to him. Maybe Amelie was right, on this one.

His hand managed to sneak onto her thigh about halfway through, feeling the heat radiating from between her legs, only to have her interlock their fingers and move their connected arms to the centre console. Her legs were crossed, one hand tucked between the tight thighs to soothe the ache that tingled through her nerves. Harry uncomfortably wiggled in his seat, trying desperately to have the zipper on his jeans not bust from the tightness that filled his briefs. Merely the thought of having her undress him was making him want to burst.

“Doing alright over there?” Amelie giggles, squeezing his hand, nodding to where his zipper was beginning to fold against his groin.

Harry rolls his eyes, shaking his head and looking at the directions once more. “Don’t think you would have liked the rug burn on your back had we stayed at the beach.”

“And if you were the one getting rug burn on your back,” she teases, enjoying the satisfaction that encompasses riling him up. “How would you feel about that?” Her lips wrap around his thumb, sucking his finger in the way that turns him on the most.

“You’re the devil, you know that? Quite actually think you were put on the earth to torture me.” He whines when his thumb leaves the warmth of her mouth with a pop. “Don’t think, I know.”

Amelie laughs, shrugging her shoulders with a smirk and releasing their hands to give him the opportunity to pull into the drive. Harry’s adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he gulps, unbuckling his seatbelt and turning the engine off. There wasn’t a concern for the sex, that really never phased him in the slightest with her. Harry knew her body as though he’s never touched another soul. More so the idea that they were going to make love to each other, to hold each other tightly and say their love in a way that they can only do with each other.

Harry decidedly leaves the basket in the backseat, dangling his keys on the hook near the entryway and waiting for Amelie to walk inside the house before closing and locking the door. He wipes his hands on his jeans, his heart beating against his chest as she turns around and meets his stare. Her eyes are ones that Harry could surely get lost in, staring at her for hours on end.

Her hand takes his, their shoes kicked near the platform of the stairwell, their ascension towards his bedroom slower-paced and drawn out. Harry’s had enough, though, and as soon as they reach the hallway, his lips are on hers and his hands are holding her cheeks, her figure trapped between him and the wall. Her lips taste of their usual strawberry and apple, the desperate nature to have their skin touching leaving her hands to fumble with the button and zipper on his jeans, a sigh of relief leaving his lips when the tight waistband slinks down his thighs.

Harry’s hands reach beneath her thighs and tap, a smirk painted on his lips as her arms tightly wrap around his shoulders and her legs circle around his waist. His jeans are kicked somewhere down the hallway, his shoulder pushing the bedroom door open hurriedly, his foot shoving it closed behind him. Amelie squeezes him, breaking apart their lips to settle on the ground, quickly pulling her sweatshirt over her torso as Harry’s fingers unbutton her jeans once again.

“Christ,” Harry murmurs, yanking his shirt over his head and laying it on the carpet behind them, his eyes trailing over the lace barely covering her skin. His arms slink around her waist, his mouth sponging kisses along her neck. “Forget how short you are sometimes, Ames.”

“Don’t even, Mr Styles,” Amelie says, the name teasing on her tongue, gently grabbing his face in her hand and pulling his mouth to meet her lips. “You love me.”

“Definitely right about that one.” Harry gently nudges Amelie backwards, his lips chasing to be kissing her, her mouth seemingly too far away once her knees budge against the mattress. His eyes soften as she lays in the centre of the bed, shoving the duvet to the edge where Harry could pull it over their bodies later.

“Considering how much sex we have, it’s strange to think that saying three words has us stumbling around,” Amelie giggles as Harry clumsily climbs over her, knees set between her open thighs, arms on the pillows under her head. “Thank you for saying the words to me.”

“Thank you for saying the words back.”

“Anytime,” Amelie smiles, wrapping her thighs around his waist and pulling his body closer, her hands shoving his briefs down his thighs and passing her lips across his mouth. “Je t’aime.”

Harry’s heart grows ten sizes in his chest. He knows that saying the words aren’t easy, yet there she is, doing everything to say it back. His hands delicately move under her to unclasp the lace adorning her chest, his fingertips dragging along her skin, his lips sponging kisses along her hips, her panties slipping down her thighs and getting carelessly tossed with the clothes on the ground – they wouldn’t be needed, after all.

Her fingers curl through his hair, bringing his face to hers, their lips sinking into a kiss. Melting into her arms, Harry’s chest lays flat against hers, his mouth fully encased in the way she tastes, the way her touch lingers on his skin. Her nails drag along his back, barely long enough to leave a scratch but the sensation tickling his nerves, his hips tight on hers as his cock slips between the heat of her thighs.

His hand trails along her chest, his thumb brushing across her nipples and his mouth leaving a chaste kiss to her sternum, his fingertips dipping into her heats and taking her arousal onto his shaft. Her thighs slowly release around his waist, spreading for him, his hand gently pumping his cock, his entirety slowly sinking into her core. Her warmth swallows him, and Harry swears that he’s never felt deeper, tighter, warmer inside of her.

His hips rock rhythmically, one hand holding her thigh around his waist, his hand tangled in her hair as his lips messily slot over hers, their teeth gnashing and mouths messily gliding over each other, his lips suckling on her cupid’s bow and her fingertips scratching at the base of his neck to have him closer.

“I love you; I am so in love with you,” Harry whispers against her lips, his features holding all sincerity as she stares at him with tears in her eyes. “Je t’aime, mon ange.”

“Je t’aime, je t’aime,” Amelie breathes, a tear slipping down her cheek, a gasp leaving her lips as his cock reaches the sweetest spot. “You’re the only one I’ve ever loved.”

And that ruins any control that Harry has on his emotions.

His thrusts come harder yet sweeter, his whole body on hers, the heat on their skin burning to the touch, yet neither seems to mind. Her fingers pinch at the pudge on his waist, her eyes squeezing shut and her lips parting as his hand releases her thigh to circle at the nerves centred between her heat. Her kisses are languid and far between, all of her thoughts centring around the man that she loves and the way that he is showing his love for her, so deeply, so intimately.

Neither are quite sure when their orgasms spilt onto each other. Amelie was writhing beneath him, kissing his neck, fingernails dipping into his skin. Harry was grinding his hips in the way she loves, his cock squeezed tightly inside of her, reaching a warmth he never knew existed. Quite possibly it only existed when you love someone.

He is reluctant to pull out, to leave her embrace around him. He tugs the duvet over their naked bodies, reaching for one of her favourite oversized shirts and his favourite underwear – sure, maybe that was a bit selfish on his part – for when she’s ready. His arms stay above her head, her fingers interlocking with his as he lays lazy kisses on her cheeks. He grumbles when Amelie reaches for her shirt and panties, walking into the bathroom and shouting at him from the toilet. Harry knows that they’ve reached peak comfortability, at that point.

His eyes light up when she walks into the room, his hands reaching out for her to take as she closes the curtains and settles into the makeshift routine for the evening. Her domesticity sticks out in that moment, and there is nothing more that he wants than to have this every day for the rest of his life. He wants to live with her, wake up to her, go to sleep with her. Harry wants to make breakfast and lunch and dinner when they’re home because he knows that Amelie couldn’t cook to save her life. He wants to have her clothes near his in the wardrobe, share a dresser. He wants to say, bisous, s’il vous plait, a million times a day, knowing that she would never deny a kiss. He wants it all.

Amelie slips beneath the duvet and chastely kisses his cheek. Her face is laying comfortably on his arm, turned on her side, the running episode of her favourite program drawing her attention away from the perfect man holding her.

Harry’s fingertips drag along her side, dipping at the curves of her waist and skimming over the lace panties that she put on in the bathroom. Amelie’s thumbs trace the outline of the butterfly on his abdomen as her palms splay against his chest, the quiet hum of the television that Harry turned on playing in the background. Her chest is rising and falling rhythmically with his, the smell of sex and vanilla still lingering in the air above them. Dimming sunlight is shining through the curtains, and she knows that if they were taking the time to break their silence, Harry would be saying something about how the sun is complimenting her by fading over her skin in the way it does.

One thought sits at the forefront of her mind, a thought that she couldn’t stop contemplating and going over, that never seemed to fade away. Her eyes fell on the dresser behind Harry, the one with six drawers that make up his clothes - only, three of the drawers are already hers. Her mind traces to the bathroom, where her toothbrush and her makeup and her favourite robe are settled in spots that Harry made just for her. Her forehead falls to his chest, his fingertips brushing her hair behind her shoulder softly and pressing a kiss to her skin.

“Baby?” Amelie whispers, a shy smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she moves her face from the confines of his neck and stares directly into Harry’s eyes.

“Hm?” Harry is staring at her like she is his whole world, the entire universe and the sun and the moon and the stars all wrapped up into one being, and there are butterflies swirling in her stomach.

“Does that offer to move in with you still stand?”

Harry’s lips spread into the widest grin Amelie has ever seen, nodding and pressing a hard kiss to her cheek. “Stands until the end of time.”

“Think I might need to get some things from the apartment, then.”

“Mean that? Not just saying it?” His eyes search for confirmation in her face, and the goofy smile that plants on her lips and the brightness in her eyes are saying everything that her lips aren’t. “God, I fucking love you.”

“You do?” Amelie grins, mimicking Harry’s comment in the car, laughing loudly as his fingertips tickle her side, their bodies rolling to have her settled beneath him. “Could you leave me alone, Mr Styles?”

“More than anything in the world, I do. And no, I can’t,” Harry murmured against her lips, ignoring her secondary comment, slanting his mouth on hers and smiling at the way her thighs lock around his hips, dragging him to lay completely on her. “I’m going to crush you if you have me lay like this.”

“Doubtful,” she giggles, carding her fingertips through his hair and scratching his scalp soothingly. “Think we should try out that cafe near here, tomorrow. The Beachwood, right?”

Harry can’t hide the smile on his face, nodding and sponging kisses along her cheeks, her laughter making his heart nearly burst out of his chest. He might give her his heart to keep safe. He breathes her in, knowing that there wouldn’t be a day in his life that he could go without her. Amelie was all at once his love, his muse, his best friend. He wanted what’s best for her and moving away from that cafe and all that it encompasses is going to change everything. “Mhm. Heard it’s pretty good. There’s a florist nearby there, too. We can pick up some plants for the garden.”

“And do you expect me to be the homely girlfriend and water them all? This is a team effort, y’know.”

Harry laughs breathlessly, shaking his head and taking in the way the sunset falls over her golden skin and illuminates her features. “You and I make a pretty good team, don’t we?” Amelie nods instantly. “And no, I only expect painting around the house. Want you to paint the walls like you did when you were younger. Whatever you feel fits. Want you to be all over this place.” Harry pauses. “And the honeybee jar that has all of our wine corks. Need that.”

“Am I able to keep the studio?” Amelie nods towards the bedroom door, the open rooms down the hall being their connected offices. Over the last few months, they’ve had their fair share of intimate moments between the spaces. One fond memory includes a linen cloth, Harry’s painted back, and a messy Starry Night recreation over their naked bodies.

“As long as I still get to bother you in there,” Harry smirks, pressing a chase kiss to her lips before rolling onto his back and reaching for his phone.

“Hey,” she whines, turning over and laying her head against his chest, kissing the swallow at the top of his collar bone and sinking into his warmth as his arm wraps around her and his fingers type quickly on his screen. “Our ‘no phones in bed’ rule still applies.”

“Hold on one minute, mon ange.” Harry kisses her hairline, smirking as he presses his thumb against the screen and turns the phone to face her, her lips spreading into a grin at the sight. “Need a new bookshelf to hold on your books, don’t we?”

Amelie swings her leg over Harry’s hip, straddling his thighs, her hands spread over his chest and her eyes taking in the perfect man before her. Harry has his moments, as everyone does, but there is never a doubt in her mind that no one has loved anyone as much as he loves her, and she loves him. Her eyes meet his and there is a comfortable silence that hangs over them, the sensation of his hands rubbing her skin as a stretched-out shirt of his hangs loosely over her torso.

Harry purses his lips, his thoughts scattered around as he takes in what happened in the last fifteen minutes. He stares at the girl - the woman - that he loves, completely in awe of her. All that she’s been through, all that she’s overcome, all that she has the strength for. He wants to protect Amelie, love her, and care for her for all of his life, for as long as she would ever let him. He would do absolutely anything for her.

“Earth to Harry,” Amelie teases, pulling Harry out of his daydream and his attention back to her. “Asked you what you’re thinking about.”

“Could I ask you a question?” Harry asks nervously, biting his lip between his teeth and taking a second to properly form the question in his brain before asking.

“Anything.”

“Know that it’s different, now, but why did you keep going back to the café?” Harry sits against the headboard, pulling Amelie tighter into his chest and brushing the hair away from her neck. “All that time not going after it happened, and then you decided to go back. Why?”

Amelie purses her lips together, thinking carefully about how to word all that could possibly be said. “Think that nothing ever went ‘back to normal’ after it happened, you know? Mama treated me differently, Jenny and Phoebe, as much as they all tried not to. Never really bothered with school since it was so close to the end and I had some of the girls. Then I moved out and felt like I didn’t have anything familiar, even if I went home every weekend. Everything was so different. I was alone. Unfortunately, that was what seemed comfortable,” Amelie explains, taking a breath and focusing on tracing the outlines of the tattoos situated on his bicep. “And then I met you,” she says, pausing for a moment and staring directly into his eyes, “and you were a threat because you make me happy. Must not be very fun seeing someone realise they deserve better than you.”

Harry nods, softly smiling and gently rubbing his thumbs into her thigh, encouraging her to continue.

“And it’s not your fault that he started saying those things to me, once you came around, and it’s clear to me, now, that they’re not true, but simply being here the last week, whether you were here or not, made me realise something,” she says, her eyes lifting to meet his and a smile tugging at her lips. “Kept going because I was scared of really letting go of it all because for so long I felt like it made up my whole life. And then you came into my life and showed me how much more is out there for me. Of course, I wish that it didn’t take a spiral to realise that, but sometimes that’s just how it has to be.” Amelie gently coaxes Harry’s chin up, having his eyes stare into hers, a sigh leaving her lips as she says, “Harry, even though change scares me more than anything, there is nothing that scares me away when we go through changes because we always do them together. I think that’s something I needed more than anything.”

“Together,” Harry says, repeating the word and wrapping his arms around her middle, pulling her into him. “Je t’aime,” he grins, his lips pressing against hers as she smiles the most genuine smile he’s ever seen on her face. “To Jupiter, Pluto, the moon, the stars, and all the way back to wherever you are.”

“Je t’aime. More than you know.”

Amelie isn’t sure how long they stay tangled in each other’s arms, Harry’s lips occasionally sponging kisses into her neck or her shoulders where the tee slips on her skin. His languid kiss on her lips allowed him to sneakily turn on their playlist, their favourite songs echoing through what would soon be their bedroom. Her arms are draped over his shoulders, her fingertips brushing through the curls at the nape of his neck, her lips pursed together in concentration. Her mind is occupied with dozens of thoughts, many of which are making traces of the artistry that could be displayed on the walls of the living room and the dining room, but there is one, in particular, that is inching its way to her lips.

“Do you remember the quote that says, ‘they were all perfect days’?” Amelie wonders, her eyes peeking over to his bedside table and contemplating reaching over to find the exact page. Harry nods against her, pursing his lips as her hands cup his cheeks and gently pull his face away from her neck. “Despite how today started, I think this has been a perfect day.”

Harry smiles, his green eyes soft under her gaze, the quietness that hummed in the background of the bedroom beyond the music making the moment much softer than either of them had intended. “Ames, every day I spend with you is a perfect day.”

Something inside of Amelie is changing, and Harry is happy to be around to see it.

/ / /

Harry woke up earlier than Amelie.

Maybe, it’s because the time zones were nearly nine hours apart. Maybe, it’s because she tends to only sleep soundly when Harry’s arms are around her. Amelie wasn’t one to curl into anyone as she fell asleep, needing to have her own space and always feeling too hot. And yet, Harry found that since that moment they were tucked into the comforter together – promising to never go away – every night they sleep together – which is often since they moved in together – she is tucked into his arms. Her height only posed as a problem when Harry wanted to be the little spoon, his feet nearly dangling off the bed unless he slots his legs between hers, his curls tickling her neck.

Harry wished Amelie ‘Happy Birthday’ at midnight, pressing his mouth to her plush lips and devouring her taste, one leg between her thighs, his arms around her head. ‘Have to thank your parents for giving me you’, Harry whispered against her lips, her ankles tucked around his hips, his fingertips bruising her thighs by gripping them tightly. Amelie’s fingers caressed his cheeks as he kissed her, smiling against his mouth and soaking in the love that radiated through his touch. He made love to her, slow and steady and meaningful, muttering his love for her in the language they shared in private. Tu es l'amour de ma vie.

Harry knew that Amelie was exhausted. Her hand splayed flat across his chest, her lilac hair fanning over his arm. He never really thought about waking her up by kissing between her legs, until now, until she was laying on him naked with the exception of his favourite knickers – he really did love seeing her in lace. His hand gently coasts along her spine, curving over her bum, his fingertips dipping beneath the waistband and slowly dragging along her core, nearly moaning at the wetness that pooled between her thighs – likely from a dream about the night before. He lifted his fingers to his mouth, groaning at the taste. Amelie was sweet like honey, sticky like a peach.

“Can’t tease me,” Amelie whisper, nearly inaudible to Harry’s ears. “Not fair to me, ‘m the birthday girl.”

“Happy Birthday, mon ange,” Harry smiles, his lips languidly meeting hers, his arms gently rolling their bodies to have her beneath him. “My whole world is twenty-one today. How do you feel?”

“Could feel better ‘f my boyfriend didn’t wake me up by sticking his hands in my knickers and then quitting the job.”

“Look at m’confident girl,” Harry muses, sponging kisses along her neck and suckling a bruise at the curve of her breast. “Tellin’ me exactly what she wants.”

“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” she smirks, taking the hair tie on her wrist and gently pulling the hair away from his face, yet leaving the curls loose enough to tangle in her fingertips. “Told me that m’birthday was the most important day of the year and you’ll give me anything m’heart desires. Think that I want you.”

Harry spreads the biggest grin in his face, his hands gently parting her thighs and his fingers dragging her panties down her legs, his lips pressing a kiss to where her thighs meet her core. Amelie squirms beneath him, her breathing coming through parted lips, her hand gripping the silk sheets on the mattress and his wrist that is holding her hips. His hand moves her thigh over his shoulder, spreading her open, a moan leaving his lips as he immerses his tongue, his lips, his face in her.

Amelie’s whimpers and moans are a melody, making the sweetest song Harry has ever heard. He whines when her hand tugs at his hair, bringing him to her lips, her hand travelling dangerously slow along his chest and reaching for his cock, lifting her hips to have him inch into her. Her warmth encompasses him, tight and velvet and squeezing him as his pelvis lays on hers and his tip reaches the spongy wall that makes her toes curl. He knows her body – her curves, her stretch marks, her dimples, her thighs, her breasts – the most beautiful body his hands have ever had the privilege to touch, and he has memorised every inch of skin. His lips are soft and wet against her mouth, the taste of her lingering on his tongue, her whimpers purely of pleasure echoing around his bedroom.

“Je suis à toi,” he whispers, moaning as their orgasms spill around each other, her nails scratching his skin. “Could love you forever, you know that?”

“Je suis à toi, ma lune,” she smiles, humming contently. Harry doesn’t bother moving, his lips pressing to her healed tattoo that was inked by him. His lips touch the moon, smiling at the way the name comes to easily to her. For Amelie, Harry would be the moon, the sun, the stars, the planets – whatever she needed him to be. “Je t’aime.”

“Love you more. Bisous, s’il vous plait,” Harry grins, reluctantly moving away, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips before walking towards the wardrobe in the corner of the bedroom. His hands rummage through a box situated behind her suitcase, sticking a stray shirt that smelt like him under his arm for her to wear.

His second to last show with One Direction is tonight, and they would have to leave soon to make it to soundcheck on time. Amelie’s family and Jenny are flying into Manchester, Anne grabbing them from the airport and bringing them to the venue when it was time for the show. He didn’t want to spoil the surprise party early, yet there is a feeling in his stomach that she is suspicious, especially since there was the mention about wearing her favourite jumpsuit for the night.

“Get lost looking at your reflection, Mr Styles?” Amelie teases, the duvet tucked under her arms to cover her chest, fresh knickers clinging to her hips. Her hair smelt of sweat and sex and Harry, and she knew that they would end their time alone with a shower and desperate touches.

Amelie never felt better. Anxiety was seemingly under control, panic attacks few and far between since coming into her final semester and having the opportunity to travel through the online courses. Going to Paris was the best thing for her, especially having Harry by her side. Nightmares are gone. Only dreams of her and the man she’s in love with and their house and their future. Harry was changing her. Changing her for the better.

“Didn’t get lost, thank you very much,” Harry scoffs, a breathless laugh leaving his lips as his arms hold something behind his back. “Made you something, because you have every book known to man and I thought this was better. Don’t laugh at me for my lack of skills.”

Amelie shakes her head, rolling her eyes at his comment and giggling as his hand tosses the clean shirt over her face. Her hands tug his shirt over her torso, the smell of him lingering on her skin – vanilla and a musty scent that only he could manage to make attractive. “You’re good at everything.”

Harry wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, taking a seat on the bed and tucking his legs in a comfortable position. “Everything, huh?”

“God, you’re annoying,” she says, the smirk on her lips betraying the serious tone she desperately wanted to portray. “Can I see?”

Harry lays the photo album out on her thighs, his chosen cover picture one of her favourites – the photo from the Fourth of July at her parent’s house where she’s holding his face and kissing his cheek. He squeezes her knee, encouraging her to open the book and begin to look inside, ten months of pictures filling the pages.

“Have enough pages to fill out until our anniversary, I looked,” Harry says, his smile indenting the dimple in his cheek. “Figured we might want to make one once a year, you know, to remember all the things we’ve done.”

“Harry,” Amelie whispers, her eyes welling with tears as her fingertips trace over the neatly printed pages, his handwriting scattered across the patterns to accompany their pictures.

Harry’s handwriting is scribbled in a thick font, centred under the photograph taken at his birthday, her hands cupping his face and planting a kiss on his cheek, a quote from their novel – it was a love language in their relationship, now – accompanying a note that was nearly falling off the page.

“The great thing about this life of ours is that you can be someone different to everybody.”

The great thing about this life of ours is that I get to be in love with you and there is never a person I want to be more than the one that you love. I could be someone different to everybody, but I always want to be the one that you’re in love with, that you laugh with, that you adore, that you call ‘baby’. Maybe you are the greatest thing about this life. I would certainly believe so.

Amelie runs her fingertips over the decorated page, polaroids of their first month together neatly stuck inside. Lyrics from their favourite songs are written in script, places they went together. One picture from the night Jenny and Dan met Harry is in the corner, their smiles one that she would always remember.

On the next page, Amelie recognises the photo instantly. One polaroid from the night of Valentine’s Day – their makeshift one – with Harry kissing her cheek and the moon shining in the background. She knew that night meant more to their relationship than words could ever say, because who in their right mind flies to Australia for a man they met a month ago? But Harry was different, made her feel something for the first time in what felt like forever, and she would do anything to be with him.

Had the biggest crush on you and you didn’t even know it. Flying to Sydney to spend Valentine’s day with me. I knew I was falling in love when that happened. This is my favourite dress you own, by the way. Oh, and I still have the biggest crush on you.

Amelie smiles, her bright eyes meeting his, her fingertips tracing over his handwriting and the polaroids that have become a staple of their relationship. Everywhere they went, a polaroid was in tow. Harry didn’t really understand the love of it, at first, and then as his mind wracked through ideas for her birthday, the tiny box of photos became more important than ever. “Have a crush on you, too.”

Harry grins, his teeth digging into his bottom lip nervously as he stares at her reaction, his heart swelling in his chest as her lips spread into the smile that he adores.

Amelie’s heart drops at the three pictures on the next page. One polaroid – the one that one of the security guards took before soundcheck – and two photos that a photographer grabbed of them hugging and kissing before the show. March seemed like the longest month of their lives, apart for nearly two months for the first time and then the uproar. Harry could never thank Amelie enough for all that she did for him during that time, and there wasn’t another picture that could properly describe how he feels about her.

Know that neither of us slept much that night, but it was then that I realised that when I’m with you, I feel safe. You’re my safe place.

“Forgot that that picture was taken of us,” Harry confesses, nodding to the polaroid. “Found it in the box that I have of all our pictures. The only one that I have from March.”

“Forgot about this one, too. Think you’re the only person I would ever do long-distance with, you know. You’re the only one that would ever make it worth it.” Amelie turns the page, reflecting on the moment that Harry walked in on her panic attack and managed to calm her down. Harry is her safe place. He is home.

All of the pictures on the next page make her smile. One picture of Harry kissing her cheek that her mother took. One picture of Harry with Phoebe and Amelie. One picture that Fay insisted on that included everyone. Having Harry meet her family was one of her favourite nights – with the exception of the panic attack the next morning – because there had never been anyone that had fit in so perfectly, that her parents enjoyed the company of as soon as they stepped foot in the door.

You have no idea how much I loved seeing pictures of you, hearing stories about you. I wanted to know everything, and I’ll continue to learn every single day I’m with you. Thank you to Fay and Luca for giving me the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

“Love this picture,” Amelie says, turning the photo album slightly for Harry to see the picture that she’s talking about. “Mama texted me that night and asked me when you were coming back.”

“Mama has been rooting for me since Day One,” Harry smirks, his heart warm at the name. He was welcomed into their family with open arms and more acceptance than he could dream of. He loves everyone all the same.

Amelie’s eyes sting with tears as she takes in the pictures on the very next page. Harry printed three pictures. One picture stands out, one that was taken without her knowing. Her hair tucked inside her sweatshirt as she searches through the aisle. Harry must’ve taken it when he was telling her ingredients or what they needed to buy. Her fingers were pinching her lips, and there was a glow in her skin that she recognised in all the photos. Amelie looks happy.

This is the night I knew I loved you.

And then Amelie sees it – the picture that Harry took of her in the art studio. Her mouth is slightly parted, likely because she was singing a Sonny and the Sunsets song, and her paintbrush hard at work at one of the many paintings the would be included in the exhibit in less than two months. Amelie complained about Harry taking the picture, to which he adamantly denied. On the edge of the page, a smaller photograph of her smiling at him is pasted. And there is no denying that Harry makes her smile that big.

“You are all the colours in one, at full brightness.”

I have way too many pictures of you singing in the studio. And no, I’ll never stop taking them.

Continuing to the next page, there is a polaroid of the beach and their legs and the sketchbook. Malibu is so special, there is no way she could mistake the picture. Harry must’ve taken it whilst they were eating lunch at the beach, the day they said the three words that mean the most.

In my eyes, this was a perfect day. Thank you for saying ‘I love you’ back.

Amelie’s eyes fall to the picture laying directly beside it. Harry’s angle is less than ideal, a view of their faces staring at each other, her lips spread into a smile, their eyes gazing into each other’s. On any other day, she would have expected to hate the photo, to hate the way she looks, to hate the way she was laying or that it was unflattering. But, staring at this photograph, the way Harry is looking at her as she is the sun, Amelie’s heart couldn’t feel more swollen with love.

I wrote my first song about you, today. I also know that I don’t ever want to be without you.

Amelie can see that there are only two filled pages left. There is a bittersweet feeling, knowing that she’s coming to the end of the pictures that Harry loves most, that reminded him of the best moments of their relationship throughout the year. There is something really special about knowing that every picture in this photo album is his favourites. Amelie is seeing herself through his perspective.

And without a doubt, Amelie has never felt more beautiful.

“Don’t cry, angel,” Harry whispers, his thumb drying a tear falling down her cheek, her eyes shading a new colour with the emotions. “Doll, you can’t stop, now. There are too many pictures to see.”

“There’s more?” Amelie whines, taking a deep breath and trying to gather her emotions. Her family was always so considerate with her birthday, buying the gifts that she asked, her mother writing a ‘Book about Amelie’ on her tenth birthday, writing out special cards to her. Jenny always spent the day doing what she loved most – painting. Harry is the only one to ever make something like this, a collection of his favourite moments that only they have shared. “Don’t tell me you printed out all the pictures.” Her eyes fall to the pictures from France in August, the week they spent with her family, Harry’s first time meeting her grandfather, the photographs taken in the tulip gardens and under the tree in her favourite park. “Baby.”

“Think that Paris was the best week of m’life,” he says, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear and kissing her forehead. “Meeting your grandfather, seeing all of your favourite places, kissing you in the garden.” Harry squeezes her knee, flattening out the pages and pointing to the photograph that he loved most. “Needed all of that in here.”

Amelie’s eyes water at Harry’s favourite photograph – the one in front of her grandfather’s flower shop. Her grandfather, Henry – yes, she very much noted the irony of their names – inherited the flower shop from his father in the heart of Neuilly-sur-Seine, where their home was built for generations and their children went to school. Her favourite place in the world was her grandfather’s house, the garden that embraced rose bushes and tulips and sunflowers blooming in at the best time of year. Her dream as a young girl was to work in the flower shop, Ma Petite Fleur, to paint the vases and decorate the store with her suns and moons and stars.

Harry’s first time in the shop was his favourite moment of the holiday, the way her grandfather welcomed him with open arms and a kiss to the cheek to share his acceptance into the family. Harry could see how much that meant to Amelie. Henry was the one that asked Harry to join the family photo, insisting that he would add it to the collection of photographs that he collected in the shop over the years. One was taken for her grandfather, one for Harry and Amelie. Harry evidently stole it from their suitcase on the way home.

“Even when we weren’t wandering, even from the floor of your closet, you showed the world to me.”

Thank you for showing me your favourite part of the world. My favourite part is you, wherever you are and wherever you decide to be, I will follow you. I would follow you to Jupiter. Never have I ever seen you smile as big as you did the minute we landed in France. One day, I hope we have a house there, where you and I can live like little French florists and spend our days in a café, sorting through flower arrangements, me writing songs and you painting, like it was our greatest calling. How does that sound to you, mon ange? Sounds like a good plan to me.

Her favourite picture from the London shows is centred on the final page. Harry is holding Amelie on his back, her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, her lips kissing his cheek as they laugh. They’re in front of the stage at The O2 Arena, the opening title beginning to play as a run-through for their final shows in London. Her first true month on tour with Harry was certainly a learning curve, quietly disagreeing in private about where to have everything and having time apart to decompress and sketch – which Harry was not particularly a fan of. They were happy, though, and anyone that saw their smiles could see it. Harry was happiest with her, and she was happiest with him.

Never knew how much I wanted someone to travel the world with me until you were by my side.

Harry grins, leaning forward and kissing her hairline, squeezing his eyes shut and breathing in the quietness of the moment. Only them, Amelie and Harry. Her cheeks are wet with tears, a smile wide on her lips, her heart pounding so hard against her chest that she swears she could dislocate her ribs. He is so thoughtful, so kind. Harry loves her, and Amelie swears that they love each other more than anyone has ever loved.

“Je t’aime, Harry,” Amelie whimpers, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

“You deserve it, angel,” Harry whispers, his thumb rubbing over her cheek gently and kissing her temple. He wanted to stay in their tiny world forever. Amelie and Harry in London, without any interruptions or troubles. He could see himself being content that way. “Have to leave in a few hours.”

“Do you have the tea I like downstairs?”

“Always.” He swings his legs over the mattress, standing on the ground and kissing her hair, turning his body towards the bedroom door and beginning to shuffle out. He nods towards the end page in the album, “Let me go make some. There’s a note in there for you.”

“Harry,” she sighs, pursing her lips together as her eyes begin to well with tears.

“Just read it,” Harry smiles, opening the door and stepping into the corridor, turning over his shoulder to whisper to her. “Je t’aime.”

Ames,

If someone would have told me that I’d meet the love of my life at twenty, I would have laughed at them. I would have said that’s impossible. I would have said that I haven’t seen what I wanted to see, that I haven’t experienced what I want to experience. I would have said that there is no way I would find someone who understood me, that wanted me for me. Mum will tell you that I wasn’t worried about dating, that I just wanted to live in the moment. That’s what I thought I wanted, to live in the moment.

And then I met you.

All I want is to have every moment with you. I want to be with you, to see everything the world has to offer with you, to experience everything in life with you. I am a much better person than I was ten months ago. I understand more. I try harder. I love a little bit deeper. I am inspired by your courage and your bravery and the way you love other people, the way you love me. I love your love for art, for music, and for books, and for anything that makes you feel something. You are the biggest and best inspiration, and the reason why I do anything. Thank you for showing me what it means to grow, to bloom. Growing with you has been the best experience of my life, and I’ll never take it for granted.

Finch said, “You make me love you, and that could be the greatest thing my heart was ever fit to do.”

Loving you is the best thing my heart was ever fit to do, that it will ever do. All of my days, my heart has just been waiting for you.

Thank you, Mon Ange, for loving me, and for giving me the privilege of loving you.

Je t’aime times a million.

Harry x

Harry walks into the bedroom as Amelie reads the note over for the third time, laying her cuppa on the bedside table with his coffee, his mouth tugging into a soft smile as a tear falls down her cheek. “Don’t cry, angel. Didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“Too late,” Amelie whimpers, tears staining her skin. Harry takes a seat on the mattress, his lips parted through a puffed breath as her hands lay flat on his chest and push him lightly against the comforter, the album set aside on the table. “Do you know how much love you deserve for that? A whole lot, like more than you’ve ever received in your entire life.”

“Are you going to love me?”

“Forever,” Amelie whispers, kissing him deeply, her fingers tangled in his hair. Harry moans into her mouth, his hands splayed over her back and having her as physically close as he could.

And they make love until their alarms sound and calls are made, the promise of forever lingering in the air.

~

Harry grinned as they pulled into the venue, their overnight bags in the backseat, Amelie’s eyes squinting suspiciously at her boyfriend as he squeezed her hand and smirked at the congregation of people crowded around the backstage entrance waiting.

“Told you I don’t like celebrating my birthday in a big way, Harry,” Amelie says, sighing as Harry walks around the car and opens her door, holding his hand out for her to take and begin to walk towards the gathering near the entryway. “Baby.”

“Can you let me celebrate you being alive? Do it for me. One time, that’s it,” Harry persuades, kissing her temple and squeezing her hand as they walk closer to the entrance and the gathering.

Niall walks up first, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her tightly, “Happy Birthday, Ames.”

“Thank you,” Amelie smiles, squeezing him in their embrace and soaking in the moment. Harry smiles and leaves her be for a moment, walking further into the entrance and making his way past the door. “Can you tell me what Harry’s planning?” she whispers in his ear, rolling her eyes as he laughs loudly.

“Do you want him to kill me? You’ll never find another best friend like me, Ames,” Niall snorts, releasing her from his embrace and shaking his head. “You’ll have to wait!”

“That offer sounds pretty good, right now, Niall,” Amelie smirks, opening her arms wide for Lux and sinking into the embrace of Lou and Caroline. “Hi, missy.”

“Ames,” Lux smiles, grabbing her hand and beginning to walk her inside to where everyone has slowly started to begin their work for the day to ready for the concert later in the evening, “do you miss your family when you’re with us?”

“I adore you all very much,” Amelie says sweetly, kneeling beside her on the concrete and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “but I do miss my family, yeah. Uncle Harry is good company, though.” Amelie’s family is a very big part of her life and is very important to her, and there is a sense of longing to have them with her when she is celebrating her birthday as the happiest that she’s ever been. Harry was the best company she could be keeping, though. “And you, too, little miss.”

“Don’t miss us too much, Cherry.”

Amelie’s jaw drops, tears welling in her eyes as she snaps her head and takes in her entire family standing before her, Harry right at their side. “Oh my god,” she whispers, walking towards her younger sister in shock, her voice barely above a whisper as whistles and howls sound through the corridor. “How are you, what are you?”

“Big head, over there, thought you should spend your birthday with your favourite people,” Phoebe smiles, wrapping her arms tightly around Amelie’s waist and bringing her into an embrace. “And since Harry will be on stage, we’re second best.” Hugging tightly, Phoebe is the first to let go, to move and give her sister a moment with their mother.

“Hi, Mama,” Amelie whispers, tears staining her cheeks as her arms wrap around her mother’s waist, hugging her tightly and nearly not being able to breathe. “Comment allez-vous? Comment s'est passé le vol?”

“Flight went well. Happy Birthday, mon chéri,” Fay grins, wiping the tears from her daughter’s cheeks and giving her a moment to greet her father and brother. Her daughter’s grin is enough to tell her that there has never been a better birthday than the one she’s having, right now. “There’s another person here for you.”

“Make way for Shamu,” Jenny smirks, Dan shaking his head with a laugh, Fay moving slightly to the side to give the two a moment. “Hi.”

Amelie shakes her head, staring between Jenny and Harry, trying to understand how he managed to coordinate any of this while on tour. “No fucking way.”

“Fucking way,” Harry laughs, leaning against the wall and admiring the scene in front of him.

“Came all the way here for me,” Amelie whispers, circling her arms around her shoulders and squeezing her into a hug, her baby bump breaking apart their embrace.

Jenny squeezes her shoulders encouragingly, taking in the sight of her best friend. Jenny swears Amelie has never been this happy. “Did you really think you’d have to spend your birthday alone with that one?”

“Hey,” Harry teases, every syllable is drawn out. “I’m a dream, I’ll have you know!”

“Mhm,” Jenny laughs, shaking her head and grabbing Amelie’s hands, stepping slightly away to take in her appearance. Her figure is adorning a jumpsuit – her favourite one – with daisies and a light purple hue to match her hair, her favourite boots on her feet. Harry undoubtedly has tried to undress her more than once since she got ready this morning. “Look at you! Guess someone is getting laid, later.”

“Only if I’m lucky, J,” Harry sighs, shaking his head and smirking at his girlfriend.

“Harry,” Amelie warns, her voice lowering to a near whisper, the embarrassment caught in her throat. Harry laughs, kissing her hair and walking away, getting his in-ears settled and ready for the soundcheck. “God, I’m so happy you’re here.”

“Missed you,” Jenny smiles, kissing her cheek and squeezing her tightly in her arms. Having been best friends since the early ages of nine and seven, there was something to be said about seeing Jenny and Amelie both genuinely happy.

“Missed you, too,” Amelie smiles, returning the kiss to her cheek, smirking as Harry winks at her across the way, his hands manoeuvring his microphone pack to his jeans. “Have to go thank Harry. I’ll be back.”

“Don’t go have sex in the bathroom or something.”

Amelie’s jaw drops, her cheeks flushing as she shakes her head, turning away from her best friend and walking towards her boyfriend talking with Niall and Louis in the corner. Her arms wrap around his waist, his ring covered fingers holding her hands around his tummy and squeezing. He turns around in her embrace, grabbing her cheeks and planting a kiss on her lips.

“Did I surprise you?”

“More than anyone has ever surprised me before,” Amelie grins, inching closer to Harry’s lips and kissing him. “Can’t express what this means to me.” Her lips sponge light kisses along his jaw, her hands squeezing his hips as she whispers into his ear, “Je t’aime, baby.”

“Je t’aime, angel,” Harry grins, kissing her hairline and holding her tightly to his chest. “Mean everything to me, and I’d do anything for you.”

“Tu as mon coeur,” she says sweetly, licking her lips, her eyes meeting his expectantly. “Bisous.”

“Anytime you ask.” Harry kisses Amelie, his hands holding her cheeks, his eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks as his lips press chaste kisses on her lips. “And I’ll keep your heart safe, I promise.”

And the night seems to go smoothly after that.

Harry and Niall hurry to soundcheck, always running late, leaving everyone to settle into their routine before the show begins. Lou plaits Amelie’s hair, Phoebe entertaining Lux, Anne and Robin and Des speaking to Fay and Luca, Brandon and Autumn talking quietly with Dan as Jenny updates on all things babies that they’ve missed since being away. Amelie soaks in the moments with her family, with her friends, with her boyfriend clinging to her before the show begins.

And then, the show starts.

Amelie is as close to Harry’s microphone as she could get – as per his request, she could have stood anywhere and been happy – and she is well aware that there is no way there won’t be pictures online with how much they are flirting with each other. Her hand is tugged just before ‘Fireproof’ – her favourite song – and Phoebe drags her to the centre of the barricade where Harry has brought himself, Niall, Louis and Liam together.

And Amelie knows.

“Our very good friend is in the audience, tonight,” Harry smirks, walking goofily around the stage and using his best voice to have everyone’s attention – not that it took very much, “and she explicitly asked us not to sing her a happy birthday, which means that we have to.”

“Harry, you really don’t have to,” she shouts, shaking her head and hiding her face in her hands.

“Her name is Ames,” Niall grins, pointing his finger at her and smiling as she swears at him. “We need you all to sing the loudest happy birthday you’ve ever sung in your whole life.”

Before Amelie could recognise what was happening, there were nearly forty thousand people singing her ‘Happy Birthday’.

“Happy birthday, love. We all appreciate you more than you know,” Louis smiles, nodding and blowing her a kiss before setting his microphone on his designated stand.

“Going to give Ames a heart attack if we don’t sing something else soon,” Harry teases, brushing his fingers through his hair and situating his microphone. “This is ‘Fireproof’.”

Amelie is so obsessed with Harry that the concert passes in a blur, all of their laughter and singing and the jokes and the screaming echoing around them. On the dining table, a large cake is laid out with, Happy Birthday Ames, written across in icing. Harry is waiting with a smile as everyone gathers into the makeshift kitchen and dining hall, too many people trying to cram into the room to wish her a happy birthday, once again.

Harry stands in front of the table, holding his hand out for Amelie to take. “Come here,” he says, waving his hand towards her and wiggling his fingers. “On this day, twenty-one years ago, this wonderful creature was born. Thank you, Fay, for that,” Harry smiles, winking at her mother and slinging his arm over her shoulder, laughing as she tries to hide her face in his chest. “There is so much to say about Ames. Can talk about her creativity, her sense of humour, the way she fits in with all of us, or her ability to outsmart us without trying. Have a pretty big crush on her and could talk about her for hours, if ’m honest.”

Niall laughs loudly, his arm set on Louis’ shoulder, “We know.”

Harry rolls his eyes, breathing out a laugh. “And I had an entire speech prepared, but it doesn’t feel right, and I think all of us are about feeling, nowadays.” His eyes look across the group gathered in the room, a sentimental feeling looming over the room. Harry felt lucky to have Amelie by his side, knowing how his emotions would be in the coming days. “But I’ll say this,” he sighs, his lips curving into a soft smile, his eyes meeting hers. “Ames, you are undoubtedly the very best person in my life, and ‘m sure many others agree. Out of everything you give to people, your kindness, your creativity, your compassion, and your love shines in how you treat others, how you treat me. All of these people are here because they love you. And whether you believe it or not, you have changed their lives in one way or another.” Harry waves his arms towards every person that has tears in their eyes and a smile on their face. “More than anything, you have changed me, you changed my life for the better. I adore you, angel. Je t’aime. Happy Birthday.”

Harry is caught by surprise as Amelie grabs his cheeks, kissing him sweetly, his smile breaking their mouths apart. “Je t’aime, baby,” Amelie whispers, a tear slipping on her cheek as she clings to him. He wraps his arms around her, squeezing her into his chest and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

Amelie’s attention is taken away by a faint yelling from Niall in the corner, “Get a room! Give us the cake.”

Harry chuckles as he touches his lips to her hairline, her arms tucked around his waist and holding him tight. Fay and Luca walk to them, a smile spread widely on their lips. “Think you’re going to tell us this is better than the surprise party we threw in your bedroom when you were twelve, huh?” Luca smirks, grabbing his wife’s hand as she playfully smacks his chest.

“Harry, you are not allowed to make us cry, again. Okay?” Fay says wetly, nodding her head towards Anne, Robin handing her a handkerchief to dry her eyes. Harry releases Amelie, smiling as she steps away and his body moves forward to hug her mother. “Merci de rendre notre fille si heureuse.”

“That’s all I want to do,” Harry whispers, smiling as Amelie squeezes his arm, nodding towards Anne in the corner of the room and walking towards her. “All I want is to make her happy.”

“You do, Harry. You really do.”

Harry grins, nodding appreciatively and taking a moment to soak in the moment with Amelie and all that occurred within the day, the last year. His whole life would be changing as of tomorrow, and especially in December. Harry wouldn’t be in a band anymore. He wouldn’t necessarily have a strict schedule and a direction. He thinks about what he could do with the time, what he would do with the moments that aren’t being rushed and scheduled. He wonders if he will feel lost. He wonders if he’ll know who he is without all that’s surrounding him.

All that Harry can think of as a sure thing is being with Amelie and annoying her with ‘bisous’ every few minutes because he knows she won’t resist. He thinks about taking her to Italy and France. Harry thinks about meeting Jenny’s babies for the first time with Amelie. He thinks about being able to live with her, make meals with her, go to bed with her, make love to her. Harry thinks about everything that will make up their lives and how grateful he is to have her.

“Go get cake,” Amelie says, interrupting his thoughts and kissing his cheek. “Niall’s about to grab his third slice.”

“I will in a minute,” Harry smiles, tucking a stray stand of hair behind her ear. “Je t’aime, mon ange. You know that, right?”

“Know you do, baby,” she grins, kissing his lips and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “Je t’aime. Thank you.”

Harry knows that Amelie is thanking him for loving her, for appreciating her, for supporting her. He gently squeezes her into him, his nose tucked in her neck, breathing her in. There will never be enough words for him to thank her for being his light, his reason.

And so, Harry holds Amelie tight, kissing her cheek and smiling and whispering his love, and he prays that is enough.

/ / /

Amelie was out of the house early this morning.

Harry was awake with her at eight, giving her reassuring kisses and making love messily in the shower and making her laugh with butterfly kisses on the back of her neck as she brushed her teeth. He brought all of the paintings over with Luca and Brandon earlier in the week, readying for the exhibit before graduation and the opening night. Harry flew in the day before graduation and is staying until the day after the exhibit – four days across the globe – and then Amelie would be going back to London with him – younger sister in tow – for the final performance. And yet, their only ‘argument’ has been about who forgot to unload the dishes the other day.

Harry was good at soothing through anxiety attacks, and Amelie has selfishly come to rely on his ability to talk her out of the chaotic and destructive thoughts the flood her brain. And standing in the middle of the venue, her family beginning to gather in the centre and guests beginning to file inside, stray art collectors and gallery owners scattered in the audience, Amelie wanted nothing more than to walk away with Harry and hide until the thoughts were gone and her breathing was normal.

Because, right now, Amelie was panicking.

Harry was going to be late. His text message said so about an hour ago. Got stuck in traffic on my way to you. I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’m so sorry, baby. I love you. Amelie said not to worry, that everything would be okay.

Her teeth nervously bit her bottom lip, her fingers passing through her notecards and trying to memorise her speech. Her eyes lifted to the door, the chimes making another person’s presence known. Her heart warms, Jeff and Glenne walking through with the brightest smiles on their faces. Glenne opens her arms, wrapping her in the tightest hug and swaying side to side.

“Oh my god,” Amelie mutters, her hand covering her mouth as she squeezes Jeff in a hug, oblivious to anyone walking in behind them. “What are you doing here?”

“Tell me you didn’t think we’d miss this,” Glenne smiles, holding her hands out for Amelie to take and squeezing.

“I,” Amelie breathes, her heart warm in her chest and the anxiety in her stomach beginning to soothe with the idea of everyone there to support her. Harry was the one she wanted, but there was comfort in knowing all of their friends were coming to share his presence until he arrived. “Thank you.”

“Hi, sweetheart!” Gemma giggles, pinching her hips and wrapping her arms tightly around her, their laugher echoing around the space.

“Oh mon dieu,” Amelie says, the smile on her lips bright and pinching her cheeks. Gemma could quite possibly be her favourite Styles on a very good day. “How are you here?”

“Couldn’t miss this for you,” Gemma grins, shrugging as she laughs. “Harry might disown me, too.”

“Have you seen him?”

“Think he was running a minute or two behind,” Gemma says, trying to hide the way her vision continuously flickers to where Phoebe is standing against the wall. Amelie is too nervous to notice. “You should start your speech, though. He’ll be here.”

“Um, yeah, okay,” Amelie sighs, biting the inside of her cheek anxiously, her palms beginning to sweat and her stomach turning. Having Harry to focus on would make her less nervous – it always does. Her heart falls to the pit of her stomach as the chimes string through the windows and walls and the sound of her sister’s voice is the one echoing through the venue. As much as Amelie loves Phoebe, loves her family, there was a heavy part of her that was hoping she’d hear his laugh or his greeting or the ‘mon ange’ that he says every time he walks in a room. “Have to give me a minute or two to stall,” Amelie says nervously, drying her palms on her corduroy skirt and straightening her note cards. Harry encouraged her to write them the night before. “Think that the person that should hear this speech is running late.”

Amelie takes a deep breath, tears welling in her eyes at the thought of Harry not being there to hear her speech. His support and love and encouragement over the last year has been unlike anything she has ever felt and knowing that he wouldn’t have the opportunity to hear how he’s changed her life hurts her. Amelie is well aware of the fact that she is the one that has been facing her mental health and working to be better, but there is no denying the fact that Harry has been the first and foremost influence in that.

And Amelie wanted Harry to hear that.

“Art is all subjective. Art is subjective to the experiences that you’ve had, the memories, the skill level, the enjoyment, the passion. Art can be interpreted differently and understood in completely different ways to anyone that sees it,” Amelie says, sighing and pursing her lips together, forcing a smile as her mother and father look at her fondly, Brandon and Autumn tucked in a corner next to Jenny and Dan, Gemma and Jeff and Glenne in the centre, straggling acquaintances and art lovers and interested professionals scattered around. “Many don’t take the time to view art for the meaning that the artist is putting into it, the therapy, the passion, the intention. We do that with a lot of things. We do that with literature, with music, with art, with nature, with relationships.”

Amelie stares at the door, silently praying that Harry will walk in and mouth apologies and insist that she continues, and she wouldn’t be mad at him, because he’s there and he’s going to hear what she has to say. That’s all she wants. “Growing up, I struggled with my mental health a lot, and about four years ago, I went through something that changed my life, that changed me.” Her heart is pounding in her chest and she wants nothing more than to have Harry’s eyes on her saying that she can do this.

Amelie tries to think of what Harry would say to her, at this moment. Likely something along the lines of, You can do this, mon ange. You are doing this. This is all you. There is comfort in the thought, in the sound of his voice.

“I remember trying to understand why it happened to me, why I felt the way I did. I destroyed canvasses and I gave up art. I felt like I wasn’t me.” Amelie takes a moment to look away from her notecards, taking in the sight in front of her.

Every person in this room is here for you, for your art. You did this.

Amelie meets Fay’s adoring stare and smiles, “One day, I was sitting outside, staring at the flowers that were destroyed after an earthquake, and there was one petal blooming. I remember my mother telling us as children, ‘Flowers bloom after bad weather. Be a flower. Remember to bloom.’”

“One year later, there was an opportunity for me to create a mural for a restaurant in Burbank. Opening night was a party that I hadn’t intended on going to, and at the very last minute, my best friend convinced me to,” Amelie says, smiling at Jenny and taking a breath, her lips slightly parted and chapped with her breathing. “Going into this party, my ‘goal’ was to get through without an anxiety attack, to make it through and leave early enough to study for an exam.” Her laugh is quiet, a secret recollection of the way the alcohol in her system gave her the confidence to speak to Harry, to begin with. “And then I met someone who completely changed my life.”

And then Phoebe moves, and Amelie sees who she’s been wanting to see the entire day.

Harry is leaning against the wall, arms folded in front of his chest, a wide smile on his lips. His eyes are bright, meeting her gaze and nodding encouragingly. Amelie can see Harry mouth, je t’aime, baby, and a tear slips down her cheek.

Her breath is shaky as she continues, unable to fully comprehend how she missed him being right there. Harry would’ve never missed this. “Our relationship didn’t start stereotypically or conventionally, and it certainly never wound up that way, but there is nothing that I would change. He showed me what it was like to love all of me and to love me unconditionally. He is my best friend and without a doubt my biggest fan. He taught me what it meant, even in bad weather, to bloom,” Amelie smiles brightly at Harry, her eyes meeting his and their stares portraying that they are the only people in the room.

Maybe, to them, they are.

“That’s what this exhibit is. A Year in Bloom. Good weather, bad weather. Always the good and the bad. Quotes from songs and broken branches and dead flowers and fresh blooms are scattered because blooming is also subjective. There’s not one right way to do it.”

Amelie knows what the final lines of her speech say, but her heart knows what she should say. Making the decision in a split second, she tucks the notecards into her palm and slides her hands into her pockets, her eyes solely focused on Harry as she breathes. “To the person that taught me how to bloom,” she says softly, her voice wavering as tears well in her eyes. Amelie has never said these words first, to anyone, and certainly not in front of nearly sixty people. “I love you, to Jupiter and to Pluto and to the moon, around the stars, and all the way back to wherever you are.” Harry pinches his bottom lip, the tears in his eyes glossing over the emerald that she adores. “Enjoy the exhibit, everyone. I hope you find the inspiration that makes you want to bloom.”

Harry waits patiently – impatiently, more so – for everyone to make their introductions and congratulations to Amelie. His lips are spread into the widest smile, replaying the words over and over in his head. Hearing Amelie say, I love you, and say so with their friends and family and strangers there, made Harry’s heart want to burst in his chest. He was happy saying, je t’aime – it was something that was theirs, that only they would say to each other, and it would never lose meaning. Hearing her say, I love you, though, and saying it first. That changes everything.

“Is it my turn to meet the artist? Ms Beneventini, I’m a big fan,” Harry teases, his eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks as she presses her lips to his, kissing him deeply. Her arms wrap around his shoulders, her face tucking into his neck, his hands holding her hips and squeezing her tightly. He kisses her hairline, his fingertips running along her spine soothingly. “Can’t believe you just said that.”

“Me either,” Amelie giggles, taking a breath and moving her face away from his neck. Her eyes meet his and her throat is itching to say the words all over again. “I love you.”

“I love you more.” His grin is enough to make her heart melt. His words said back to him, the three words that mean more than anything, the smiles that they’re sharing – there is nothing that could change the way this moment is going to be theirs forever. “That speech was incredible. You are incredible, Amelie.”

“Thought you were going to be late.”

“Never.” Harry tucks a stray curl behind her ear, the baby pink making an appearance in light of the holidays. He would have to say that the pink is his favourite. “Know that you said I taught you,” he sighs, his thumb caressing her cheek as her hands cling to his shoulders. “Hope you know, though, that you taught me what that meant at all.” His hand moves under her chin and coaxes her to meet his stare. “This is all you. None of this is me. This is all Amelie.”

“Thank you,” Amelie smiles, chastely kissing his cheek and hugging him tightly. Having their moment in private is all that she wanted, to say the three words in private, even with saying it in her speech. Having a moment that will be their forever, and no one else’s. “Je t’aime.”

“Je t’aime,” Harry say, interlocking their fingers, and staring at the opening wall and the painting that drawn in front of them, his lips returning the kiss to her cheek. “Always.”

Harry takes in the sight before him, the recreation of the mural that hangs in the restaurant where they met, where they talked about the stars and the façades and the sky. His heart pinches in his chest, knowing the subtleties behind the faux bloom, the painting of a painting because it never actually is what it is proclaimed to be. Amelie taught him that.

Harry remembers the day Amelie was flipping through her textbook, searching for a concept to recreate for one of her digital art courses. Naturally, Amelie decided on “Ceci n’est pas une pipe” by René Magritte. He remembers her explanation going something along the lines of, Because it is a painting, it is not truly a pipe. In order for it to be a pipe, it would have to be a physical object. Therefore, this truly is not a pipe. It’s a painting of a pipe. Harry asked what Amelie would recreate to represent the metaphor, the imagery, and three days later, the recreation of the painting was finished. This is a metaphor to a full bloom. Because it’s a painting, it is not truly a bloom. In order for it to be a bloom, it would have to be the physical flowers and bushes and trees. Therefore, this isn’t a bloom, this is a painting of a bloom.

January was the very first month they met, the first month they got to know each other. Amelie wasn’t blooming yet, she wasn’t even close, and Harry had no idea.

On the next painting, there is a whiskey bottle – much like the soap dispenser in her kitchen – with a single daisy sitting perfectly in the windowsill on the next painting. Harry could identify her apartment for anything, and he remembers the day after his birthday, the night they agreed to date officially, coming back to her apartment and bringing her a single flower from Martha’s flower shop near the café. Amelie nearly jumped out of her broken chair at the dining table because the flower in her vase died earlier in the morning, and the thought of Harry paying that much attention made her want to cry. Harry noticed, then, that it was the little things that made her happy, that meant the most.

Harry assumed that the next painting would be themed through March, and there was a hesitation in his step. Amelie noticed, holding his hand tighter and kissing his knuckles encouragingly.

Her infamous honeybee jar spread across a landscape canvas, bright yellows and greens; the white stumps that sit below the bee’s black belly perfectly portrayed. There are two sprouting flowers, one with a broken stem, one with a falling leaf. Two flowers, a rose and a sunflower. Harry could assume that the rose would represent him, and there was a pang in his chest at the thought that that’s how she could see him, that she saw him. Harry was distraught, broken, and Amelie was there to lift him back up.

Harry didn’t know that Amelie was struggling, too.

His hands are sweaty in hers, yet neither seems to care. Comfortable silence settles over them as they walk slowly, taking the time to soak in every moment and every stroke on the canvas that was worked on for the last five months.

His heart warmed at the sight of her mother’s garden, the bright flowers and bushes and trees, the colours the shades of the rainbow and expressed in the perfect strokes and technique. All of it was bright. Happiness and love radiated through the flowers. And then Harry notices it, the quote scribbled in the pattern of the stems, the quote that Amelie knew only Harry would find.

‘all the colours’ painted in the background of the stems.

Harry wants to say something, yet the words are caught in his throat. Amelie smiles knowingly, kissing his jaw and nodding, not worrying him with speaking just yet. Knowing that a work is about you and your relationship can be very emotional, and Harry was one to feel everything.

Harry could recognise the meadow in the next painting without any prompting. Gemma grins at him across the venue, nodding to where there are tiny words written on the tree. He remembers their very first visit to meet his family, the way the thumb wrestled to decide who would carve their initials into the tree, the kiss they shared privately, the laughter that echoed around the flowers and the grass and the trees without any intrusions. That moment was just Harry and Amelie. Happiness.

‘you and me’ carved into the tree, only for Harry to know what it means.

June portrayed the bouquet of sunflowers and roses that Harry sent from Vienna. Sunflowers standing tall against the crooked chair that Harry hated more than anything, the roses clinging to the light of the sun passing through the window that sat directly next to her bed. Moonlight hung over the vase, and the only thing replaying in Harry’s mind is when Amelie whispered that they’re always staring at the same moon.

Harry gulps stepping to the next painting. Cuts slash against the canvas, the vase of sunflowers that are painted in the middle of her kitchen counter, smashed, glass across the painted marble. Tickets are set beneath one of the dying flowers, the slash nearly taking it out of sight.

Harry’s eyes well with tears, his mind tracing back to what Jenny told him in the car on the way to see her in August. Amelie used to slash her canvases on the bad days. Harry wonders what day this was, to make her feel so low, that he wasn’t there for. His eyes sting as the tears fall down his cheeks, the emotions overwhelming at the thought. His heart broke for his beautiful girl, for the feelings and the memories that he could never take away. He would take all of her pain away if he could, and seeing the heartache set everything in a new perspective.

Amelie lightly tugs on Harry’s hand, nodding towards the next wall. Harry would stay searching for details through July’s painting, and Amelie knew that wouldn’t be healthy for him.

Harry takes in the Malibu beach that they know quite well, the blooming flowers amongst the dunes and the stray grass, one lavender flower growing out of the sand. On the beach, waves are crashing, the sun is shining bright, and Harry knows exactly what day this painting is based on. On the reflection of the water, there is writing to their favourite song across the waves. On the edge of the canvas, there is a polaroid camera and a sketchbook, an outlook on her personality to those that do not know, and an ode to the day they said the three words to Harry.

Crashing among the waves, ‘too young to burn’, is scripted in the deepest blue writing.

Harry takes a minute to recognise the scenery of the next painting. Knowing that it’s a bit unfamiliar but he’s been there before, his mind wracks through their many adventures across Los Angeles for flower shops, trying to remember one moment among the rest. Amelie giggles, nodding to the very evident title at the edge of the canvas. Mon Petit Fleur adorning the edge of the black and white shaded painting, one singular daisy painted white and yellow and baby pink. Harry pointed it out in her grandfather’s shop, the hybrid one he’s never seen. He mentioned that should she colour in her thigh tattoo one day, that if she decided to colour the daisy, she should make it the baby pink theme. Harry said that the colours reminded him of her – lovely.

October is the vase that she teased in the London house, the glass vase that extends nearly to the height of the ceiling light above the island. Harry added irises and aster to the vase before her arrival, only to have a strict talking to about how pairing similar colour flowers aren’t how to accentuate the scene or beauty, that you have to pair complimentary colours and arrange the bouquet in a sweet way. Harry learnt more about flowers and art in the three weeks that they travelled together then the eight months they’d been dating altogether.

November is their garden at their house in Los Angeles. All of the flowers are bloomed, the bright yellows and pastel purples and pinks and the reds and scarlets and oranges and burgundy and violets that are going to scatter their window boxes and the walkway in full bloom. Harry knows that their flowers haven’t bloomed yet, as the season isn’t near, but there is a feeling of hope radiating through the centre of the flowers and the sun and bees neatly swirling around with pollen.

Harry’s eyes sting with tears at the painting on the very last wall, their reactions secluded in a corner, Amelie’s hand squeezing his comfortingly.

December is a vision of a tall rose and a daisy, each painting beautifully under a dark sky, a moon clinging to the canvas and the stars decorating the distance. On the edge of the canvas, there are two distant circles aligned, meeting where the leaves of the rose and the daisy intertwine. Harry blinks away tears, taking a second glance at the painting to see the stars write out a message.

aligned.

Amelie purses her lips together nervously, heaving a heavy breath waiting for Harry’s response, her thumb drying a tear falling down his cheek. Her hand holds his cheek gently, her heart swelling at the way he leans into her touch. Harry kisses her fingertips, her palm, her wrist, his hands inching towards her face and hesitantly taking her cheeks in his hands. His eyes search for permission, asking to kiss her in the deepest way in the private corner of his exhibit, the only way to express how he feels in that moment. Amelie nods quietly, assuring him that he is alright.

Harry kisses Amelie with all of the love that swells in his chest, and there is nothing else to say.

~

Going out together for the very first time, Harry could feel the sweat on Amelie’s palm and the shakiness in her grasp. His hand holds her hips comfortingly, his sweatshirt clinging to her torso, her cheek leaning on his shoulder as their table is set in the corner, quiet and away to have their night alone. Gemma and Michal took to a different restaurant for drinks, Amelie’s family making the drive back to Pasadena, Jeff and Glenne going to their house nearby. Only a few hours left of the day to celebrate themselves, and Harry wanted to celebrate Amelie.

Harry’s ankles locked around Amelie’s foot, her spoon falling to the ice cream coated brownie in the plate so deliciously prepared. Her laughter echoes through the private space, and Harry swears that his heart will give out with how much he loves her.

“Are you trying to play footsie with me?” Amelie giggles, licking her spoon and meeting his stare, oblivious to the young girl staring at her from across the restaurant. “You know we do live together, which means you don’t have to flirt with me; you’ve already got me in your bed.”

“Have since Day One, haven’t I?” Harry smirks, leaning his spoon towards her mouth, only to bring the bite to his lips.

“Day Two, actually,” she says, licking her lips and shrugging her shoulders. “Got you in my bed on the first night.”

“Think I’ll write a whole song just about that night.”

“Think I’m surprised you haven’t already.”

“Excuse me. Who says I haven’t?” Harry scoffs, knocking his spoon against hers for the very last bite. “Thumb wrestle for it?”

“You’re a child,” she sighs, shaking her head and lifting her hand to hold his, their thumbs dancing around each other. “Baby, you do realise you’re going to be twenty-two years old, in two months, and you’re thumb wrestling your girlfriend for the last bite of a brownie.”

“Doll, you do realise you’re twenty-one and thumb wrestling your boyfriend for the last bite of a brownie,” he smirks, holding her thumb and kissing her knuckle, releasing their hands to take the very last bite. He takes the bite, only half of the brownie between his lips, his tongue darting to lick the remaining ice cream. He holds the spoon to her lips, smiling as she wraps her mouth around the spoon and takes the bite. “Couldn’t be prouder of you, you know.”

Amelie’s cheeks blush, the sleeves of the sweatshirt curling around her hands as she smiles at Harry. He pays for their dessert, thanking the staff for their privacy and kindness, holding his hand out for her to take as they walk outside. He found a space around the block, giving them a nice walk before they would settle in and be on their way home.

“Um, excuse me?”

Harry turns around nervously, his hand still holding Amelie’s tightly and her fingers tucked into the pocket of his sweatshirt. Her hand squeezed his reassuringly, silently saying that everything would be okay. Having their relationship under the radar was the best thing for them, especially with the threatening anxiety around the corner and the hate from fans knowingly evil. He releases her hand reluctantly, setting his comfortingly on her back. He isn’t going anywhere; he needs her to know.

“You’re Amelie, right? I went to your exhibit today.” Harry’s lips spread into a grin, gently nudging Amelie forward and taking a step back to let them speak. “I am absolutely obsessed with your work. It’s what made me want to paint, again. I went through something similar with my mental health, and seeing your exhibit really inspired me.”

“Oh my god,” Amelie says, smiling brightly at the young girl who stood in front of her. “I’m so happy that you’re painting, again. Takes a lot of courage, you know that?”

The young girl has tears in her eyes, nodding her head and biting her lip. “Not a lot of people would be so open about it, and I can’t say thank you enough.”

Amelie opens her arms, graciously accepting the hug that she’s given. “Do you have social media or something? I’d love to send you something.”

“Oh my god, yeah.”

“Baby, can I have my phone?” Amelie asks, smiling as Harry takes her phone out of his pocket and hands it to her. Her fingertips type the information into her notes, the girl - no more than fifteen - holding her hands together nervously. “Perfect.”

“My mom said that I shouldn’t bother you because it looked like you were on a date,” Mollie – the girl – says, shaking her head and looking at her feet. “Hope I’m not bothering you.”

“Absolutely not,” Amelie says reassuringly. “We were just leaving. I’m at the exhibit all week.”

“I know! I’m coming again, tomorrow, with my friends!” Amelie grins, handing her phone back to Harry, returning her attention to Mollie gushing about the exhibit. “Before you go, could I take a picture with you?”

“Sure.” Amelie smiles as Mollie hands Harry her phone, completely oblivious to who he is. Mollie tucks her arm around Amelie’s waist as the picture is taken, her smile bright and spread across her lips. “Thank you so much, sweetheart.”

“Thank you for making me want to paint, again,” Mollie says, hearing her mother call her name and quickly rushing away.

Harry grabs Amelie’s cheeks, pressing his lips to her and smiling widely. “God, I am so proud of you.” His hand takes hers, their fingers laced together, and their bodies tucked against each other, walking against the wind to the car and having their cheeks turn a slight shade of red with the chill. He opens the door, mumbling, bisous, before letting her inside.

“Can’t believe someone wanted to talk to me.”

“Told you that you inspire people,” Harry says, kissing her hand and holding it tightly in his lap. “You inspire me, mon ange.”

Amelie’s lips spread into a smile, her head turning to give him the sleepiest grin. Her eyes flutter shut, her body falling into a complete state of calm with the music playing lowly in the background. “You inspire me, ma lune. Honestly, it would have had a pretty depressing exhibit, if you weren’t in my life.”

“Well, I’m here,” Harry smiles, squeezing her hand and admiring her eyes, the exhaustion beginning to take over the adrenaline, “and I will be for as long as you’ll have me.”

“Think I’ll keep you forever, then.” Quiet settles over their car as they drive the short distance to their house, their favourite songs playing in the background.

“Sounds like a good plan, doll,” Harry agrees, pulling into their garage and turning the engine off, admiring her as she yawns and sleepily climbs out of the car. “Let’s go to bed, yeah?”

“Mhm,” she hums, waiting for Harry to lock the car and the garage door before walking up the stairs and opening their bedroom door. Her feet drag towards the bathroom, stripping out of her clothes before she’s made it inside, Harry’s lips quirking into a smirk at the sight. “Can feel you burning a hole in my ass with your staring.”

“Hey, you look at your art and I’ll look at mine,” he smirks, a bright smile on his lips as she shakes her head, giggling quietly in the mirror. His fingers set the alarm in their wardrobe, shutting the door and following the pattern of their nightly routine as Amelie wipes the makeup off her face.

He walks into the bathroom, his hip knocking into her as he settles against the sink, setting his toothbrush and casting his eyes on her as she swiftly changes out of the blouse and simply into his sweatshirt. Amelie lived in it, the one Harry bought specifically to wear for her, and it made his heart warm to think about it.

“Means a lot that you came,” Amelie says, drying her face on a towel and patting her skin. “Know that you’ve had to fly all over hell and highwater for me. Thanksgiving, then graduation, and then the exhibit. Means the world to me,” she whispers, her words only loud enough for him to hear. “I love you.”

Harry smiles the widest grin; the words sinking into his heart and filled his belly with butterflies. He rinses his mouth with water, the mint coating his lips as he takes her hand and brings her into his chest, kissing her sweetly. “I love you more. To the moon, and Jupiter, and Pluto, around all the stars, and all the way back to wherever you are.”

“That’s a lot of love.”

“And there’s no one on this earth more deserving of it than you.”

Maybe Harry’s right. Maybe that much love is deserved.

Amelie smiles, having her lips on his once more, savouring the sweetness of the moment. Their kiss isn’t hurried or secret – it’s in their bedroom, in their home. Only them. Only their love filling the house and the bedroom and the satin sheets. Harry caresses her cheek, kissing her forehead and turning the bathroom light, surrounding them in only the light centred in their bedroom.

“Maybe I should buy your flight, now,” Harry mentions, untucking his corner on the comforter and climbing under the covers. “Know that we have it and the flights won’t sell out or summat.”

“Alright,” Amelie yawns, bringing the comforter over her shoulders and tucking into Harry’s chest. Her vision is slightly hazy as she stares at the phone, his fingers tapping against the screen and writing in all the information for the flight purchase.

Amelie’s stomach twists with nerves, anxiety making her heartbeat erratic and her breathing uneven. Her thoughts are overwhelming in her mind, and there is a hesitation that has never been there before. All they were doing was buying her a flight. Maybe it was the exhaustion. Maybe it was something else. Manchester for Boxing Day, then jetting to St. Bart’s for a holiday with Anne and Robin and Harry and one or two others that she wasn’t sure about.

Harry’s fingers draw on her back soothingly, his thumb locking his phone and setting it on the bedside table once he’s finished, the light turning off and the moonlight shining through the curtain. Her fingers are splayed over his abdomen, her breathing slightly unsteady. He doesn’t think much of it, assuming that she’s having a hard time falling asleep. He hums, quietly calling his own sleep forward.

As Amelie lays there, wide awake and unable to catch her breath, there is a feeling in her stomach that something is going to go wrong, very wrong. And she isn’t too sure if she’s ready to handle it.

[warlockwriter]

Still Processing Supernatural

I keep thinking I’m out of tears, and I keep finding that I am wrong.

I left a job yesterday with serious mixed feelings and then a few hours later found out about Season 15 being the last. That was a hell of a one-two punch.

But I need to remember that a) we still have one more entire season, b) the family doesn’t have to end and c) Supernatural, like for many of you, has made me the person I am today.

I’m older than many of you, but the family, even more than the show, had a huge impact on me. I’ve known since I was very small that I was trans!male, but I didn’t have a word for it almost 50 years ago. Then I found the word but denied it, suppressed it and basically refused to own it. I’m happily married to a man who sees me as a woman and married me in that gender. So I never intended to transition and still don’t.

How can you be trans if you’re not transitioning and not really trying to pass?

It was coming back to Tumblr after a hiatus where I saw a couple of posts affirming that, yes, you’re trans even if you’re not passing or transitioning. I needed those posts. Then I realized the SPN Family is about as supportive of LGBTQ as they come.

On April 22, 2018, I decided to stop denying what I am. A few months later, I found the courage to update my profile with trans!Male, he/him pronouns. About the same time, I got back into writing, and I’ve been so fulfilled with both embracing who I am and writing more than ever.

There have been a lot of you who have supported me, and if I miss one of you, I’m sorry, but here are most of you. Love you all.

@archangelgabriellives who is a fantastic writer and the first person I messaged on Tumblr when I returned. Also, I followed most everyone she follows when I realized the Gabriel corner of the fandom was where I was most at home. And has been a good, supportive friend for almost a year now. THANK YOU!

@archangelsanonymous who first gave me access to so many Rich roles, introduced me to Lex (sorry, I think I ended up loving him a bit too much) and I can’t even begin to express how much that has meant to me. Also I FINALLY MET THEM THIS MONTH AND I’M STILL EXCITED ABOUT IT!

@altyexcray who welcomed me as a brother early on and adds some welcome crazy to my life. Also plays Luci-in-a-box under my desk (virtually). Sorry, babe. Left that job. Don’t have that desk. Have to find a new one.

@idabbleincrazy who has been a crazy good friend (see what I did there?), good for a Dick spam when you need one and makes amazing moodboards, including the first one someone made just for me. I still have the “favorite things” board on my phone and look at it frequently. :)

@nobodys-baby-now who has done three amazing commissions for me and called me Jules without me having to tell her. HOW DID YOU KNOW?

@waywardspringchild who asks me questions about English, U.S. politics and keeps me posted on her SPN rewatches AND THAT DARNED ANGSTY STORY YOU ARE REREADING!

@lyselkatz, one of my newest friends, who gave us better quality Agency and draws amazing fan art. You have NO idea how much I needed that piece of Salvation fan art this week!

@snips-snails-skittles who opened my eyes to the many potential Rich ships out there, was hugely supporting of the @nongaberichbang, has responded to some of my crazy moodboard prompts and is just one of the sweetest people I know on Tumblr.

Finally, @ihaveallthesefeelsokay. Where to even begin, sister? Was the first person to refer to me as “he” and is so consistent at remembering. Brought back my joy in writing. Introduced me to Bill. Shares in my love of Griff and puts up with me having Griff feels at odd, usually inappropriate, times. Pointed out that the Driven premiere was not in England. STOLE A POSTER WITH ME! Co-wrote stuff with me (which will get published, honest!). Is letting me try all sorts of stuff with marketing her books. Actually agreed to run a Bang with me, when neither of us had a clue what we were doing. And if I don’t stop now, this will get longer than the rest of the post. You are the most amazing friend and sister, and I love you so much!

Okay, that went on longer than I intended, but know that the SPN family has been one of the best things that has ever happened to me, and I’m staying here as long as y’all will have me!

We all love and support each other! Like Rich, Rob, Matt and all the other great actors who have worked on this amazing show!

[chittapornswife]

hi!! i hope your day is going well and that your hummus came out good (i could live off hummus omg) which is a good segue to my answers to your questions ooo 🤔 1. mint chocolate chip ice cream, white cheddar popcorn, & those starburst minis but only the fav red kind. 2. heaven by finneas, say by ruel, butterflies by gabbie hanna, & snapping by chungha. 3. cats, GUINEA PIGS, & chameleons. i hope that helps at least a little lol but now i wanna know your answers!!! i like learning about you!! -🐝

Thank you!!! I didn’t make it because I decided to have 7 layer dip instead :((( but I’ll be making it tonight!! :D Also we are hummus loving twins🥺🤘🏼 I love your answers and I’ll have to check out the songs🙇🏻‍♀️ but I think I’ve heard a bit of snapping and I really really like it! GUINEA PIGS DJFJD GUINEA PIGS & HAMSTERS U MEAN (u can’t do our chunky boi freddie like that😔✌🏼) it does help! But actually before you sent this, I had a soft moodboard all done for you LOL but this helped me make a bit more I guess sensual/darker ??? Idk how to explain it but I’m thinking of posting it tonight for you! :))) if you’d like that is! ♥️✨♥️

Oh & my answers! (I almost posted this until I reread your ask lolol) 1. pasta, samosas, mozzarella cheesesticks🤤 2. can we talk - tevin campbell, honey - lay, and I just found this Hindi song today that I’m in love with for being so catchy! Kamariya - various singers who’s names I don’t remember lolol 3. dogs, tigers, turtles! :)) but I am getting warmed up to cats ever since my neighbour’s cat has taken a liking to my brother and I! 🥺♥️ and I hope your day has been going well too!!✨😚💗🥰

[presidentbttrflyfreak]

blessed, not lucky // peter parker

how are y’all?  🌸 i’ve returned with a peter parker imagine!! honestly, this one definitely exercised my writer’s brain so much. i had to rethink and replot a lot of times to incorporate all the prompts that were requested! this is based from #10, #12, and #18 of this fluff prompt list (they will be in bold). thanks to the anon who requested this! (and i just realized it by the time i was typing the last paragraph that I didn’t get to put a tickle fight situation! ;(( sorry bud, hope u still like this!) drop a like and a reblog if I satisfied your fluff cravings! 

Warnings: too much fluff 

Word count: a very diligent 4.2k

[ italicized = flashback ]

moodboard by the lovely @xaestheticpeterx !! 🌼 

  "It's left for warm and right for cool, right Peter?" I say, poking my head through the small opening of the bathroom door. My naked body wrapped in a towel wasn't seen, and I did my best to keep it at that sight. Peter's back tenses at the sudden question and he drops the book he was reading.

"Huh? Yea, that's--", he spins his head to me and retreats immediately. The tiniest tinge of red spreading on his neck brings a sheepish smile on my lips. He stutters, "that's right."

He could probably hear the grin in my voice. "Alright, I'll be out soon." I hear a shaky cough after closing the door and a 'mhm'.

Peter is basically the epitome of pure. I know he's not exactly 100% innocent, but his clumsiness and goofy smiles tell me otherwise. I clutch the neatly folded shirt, boxers, and socks in my fist and bring it to my nose. God, it smells like him. We just arrived from another session of investigating the robbery over 3rd street, but so far we've got nothing. It gets infuriating actually, being 'kids' supposedly and not being allowed in the scene. Earlier, I went ballistic when the police officer flipped us off with 'do your homework first, kids'.

Peter's arms find their way on my shoulders, attempting to constrain my wrath. "Okay, dear. Enough for today, yeah?" I could feel the care and gentleness in his grip and voice. He sends me his usual grin when he sees me roll my eyes and stiffly shrug his arms off my shoulders.

"You told me to ask nicely, Peter. I did! And see where that got us." Steam was probably coming straight out of my ears and nose. My fingers were clawing at the notebook I held, the furiously written notes getting ripped. We were storming away from the scene after being trashed by the rude officer.

Peter heaves a sigh and chuckles lightly. Stepping in front of me and with his hands on his hips, he cocks his eyebrow at me. "I don't think 'Excuse me, mister, I politely think we can do a better job than you are' is kind, Y/N."

The frown on my lips deepens and turns into a pout. "Out of my way," I mutter through my gritted teeth. I readjust my jacket as he jogs beside me. When I look at Peter and find him looking at me, chuckling, my mood lightens and I laugh at myself too.

We walk through the streets and recap the notes for today. We don't have much to clarify since nothing basically happened today and the officers were still stuffy. I stare at Peter's furrowed eyebrows and the way he bites the end of his ball pen, trying to analyze as he been doing the past few days. I bite my lip and try to stifle the laugh in my lips but fail to do so. His eyebrows relax and his teeth release the munched ball pen. "Hmm?" he asks, curious of the sudden chuckle.

I shake my head and grin. "Nothing," I reply. He squints his eyes and pouts. After stuffing his notebook in his backpack, he teases me. "Are you making fun of me? You are, aren't you?" The sudden boost of confidence shocks me a bit but I laugh it off. He's usually not like this. I guess I've been too lenient on him lately. With a smirk hanging on my lips, I turn my body away from his and dart across the street; but not before taking his hand in mine.

He suddenly chokes and coughs uncontrollably. "Are, um, are we allowed to do-"

I turn my body towards his and flutter my eyelashes quickly, innocently. "Do what?" I can help but smile at the way his cheeks are flushed and the way he hangs his head low, trying to avoid the eyes of the people gawking at us.

His grip on my hand tightens and he eyes our locked fingers warily. "To you know, um, maybe the hands? I'm not too sure--"

Peter was tripping on his words and as usual, it's the best entertainment. "I don't get what you're saying, Peter. Maybe speaking a little clearer can help." I smirk mischievously at my last remark before pulling him and running towards his house.

A smile lingers on my lips as I remember the incident. After he got used to the coolness of my hands and finally decided to warm it by holding my hand back, he offers that since I basically invited myself to his house, I could wash the sweat and exhaust off my body over his place. It was a bold move of his, so of course, I accepted the offer. I knew that it was his little effort to make it known to me that he actually sees me differently, as I see him alike. I hinted on it a few weeks ago, and Peter was absolutely flushed and baffled! I just don't see the logic in waiting for the guy to confess. Or in waiting until you guarantee that the other person likes you too. I'd rather accept the fact that he doesn't find interest in me than to have myself wait and hope for someone's love for me that may actually be non-existent unless I find out for myself. And I did.

The coolness of the water makes me shiver and yet it calms me too. I scrub the sweat and dirt off my body after the long hours of going around town, investigating and poking our noses where they shouldn't be. What I love about Peter is he just rides along the trouble I bring. Believe it or not, Peter himself is trouble enough. But I just can't seem to get enough of him.

After rinsing myself, I take the towel and wrap my dripping hair. Since I don't have my toiletries and products, there's nothing much to do other than to slip into Peter's over-sized clothes after lathering on my skin this lotion I found in the cabinet. I bring my wrist to my nose and sniff the scent. I expected the lotion to be Aunt May's but little did I know Peter Parker is actually a fan of aromatherapy! Bingo, another thing to tease him for. I reach out of the knob when I realize that I'm actually in Peter's clothes. Like I'm wearing his clothes, ones that he once had worn. Goosebumps crawl on my skin and I swallow the lump forming in my throat.

Peter jolts from his seat when he hears the sudden click of the bathroom door. He was hunched over his desk, scribbling away before I stepped out of the bathroom. He starts talking before turning to face me. "Hey, I was wondering what you would change into. Sorry, it was stupid of me to offer when--"

I stood there awkwardly, hands locked behind me. I pursed my lips and smiled. "I kind of decided on that bit before asking permission. Sorry." I knew he wasn't going to stop feeling embarrassed unless I act like it's normal for me to steal clothes from a boy's wardrobe and wear them, so I walk to where my bag was resting and grab a comb from inside.

Peter was still staring at me in disbelief and I couldn't help but feel conscious. I just brushed my wet hair silently. Soon, he shakes his head and laughs it off. "When did you ever ask permission anyway?" Then, he takes these neatly folded clothes that were on top of his desk. "I asked Aunt May, in case. You can change if you want. But it's not that I'm uncomfortable with you wearing my clothes, you look great actually; if you just want... yeah." Peter trailed off his speech when he saw me staring at him adoringly, biting on my lip to stop a big ass silly smile forming on my mouth.

I walk over to him and pull out a chair. "I think I look great in your clothes too. So I’m going to politely refuse Aunt May’s clothes. Period, end of discussion. Non-negotiable." I reply after sitting beside him and resting an elbow on the desk and my chin on my palm. I stare at Peter's face. He follows the same, mocking my actions by resting his elbow on the desk and his chin on his palm too. At first, he exaggerates the gesture by puckering his lips and his eyebrows in concentration, as if he was trying to analyze my antics. I chuckle softly but continue to stare into the swirling hazel in his orbs. The funny look on his face drops when he realizes that I'm really looking at him with intensity and reason. A genuinely embarrassed grin places itself on his mouth. "What?" He asks his teeth showing in his broad smile.

I shake my head and shut my eyes, laughing at my own loss of words. "Nothing, it's just that I only read about these moments in books so I can’t really believe I’m here wearing your over-sized shirt and your boxers. I never thought God was such a cliche writer.” I cover my flushed face with my hands and rub my eyes.

Peter laughs and hesitantly reaches for my hands. He pries my hands off my face gently and my eyes peek through my fingers and meet his. "Me too, Y/N. Me too." He just holds my hand there and honestly, he's never done that. Be the one to do anything sweet first, I mean. So we just stare at each other. When the tension is unbearable, I stand up and squeeze his hand before letting go of it. "Aren't you going to take a shower too?"

While I went to my backpack to reread the notes and observations for today, Peter takes his clothes from the same wardrobe I took from earlier. "Yeah, I will. Wait for me here, alright? Don't go home yet." When he realizes the possible hidden meaning in his words, he turns his flushed face to me and my cocked eyebrow. "No, um I mean you can, but Aunt May is cooking dinner."

I nod and reply, "Alright, be quick. I think I got a lead somewhere here."

Peter heads in and I can't help but think of what he thought when he saw me standing there in his clothes. He hasn't officially declared that he feels the same way, but I can't help but consider the thought because of the gestures and offers he made today. Asking me to come over to wash up, offering Aunt May's clothes, complementing me in his clothes, and holding my hand first. Why can't he just be upfront like I am? But then again I can be a little too straightforward sometimes.

After a few minutes of looking around Peter's room, the sci-fi movie posters plastered on the walls and the cute tech toys on his desk, I hear the bathroom door creak and turn to meet his gaze. Somehow, I feel disappointed. When I realize to myself why I felt that way, I roll my eyes and groan.

Peter comes to my side and grabs the comb on his desk. "Why the groan?" He asks, combing his still-dripping locks.

"I actually feel disappointed that you didn't come out of the bathroom naked with only a towel wrapped around your waist. Shit, I should really stop watching those telenovelas." Ignoring the confounded look on his face, I snatch the comb from his hands. "Also, this is my comb. And plus, your hair is still dripping wet! It's like my rule to never brush my hair unless it's not damp enough not to drip."

I know my actions will shock him, but I still go on. I've already overstepped my boundaries today, so what will hurt if I take another step? I grab him by the sleeve of his sweater and sit him down the chair. Grabbing the towel hanging loosely on his neck, I stand behind him and begin patting his locks dry.

I feel Peter's shoulders tense, but soon relax after he realizes it can be a pleasant gesture. His eyes are closed when I move in front of him. Placing myself between his legs and standing maybe a little too close in front of him, I rub his hair with the towel and begin wringing the water from it. I stay silent and a small smile threatens my lips. Peter's frozen, refusing to look at me, so he's having a nice view of my stomach. My arm gets close to his nose and I finally can't hold it in; I pinch the bridge of his nose playfully. "You're too cute, Peter."

He finally raises his eyes to meet mine and he laughs. "I am, but did you perhaps use the lotion hidden at the back of all the other toiletries in the cabinet?" He holds my wrist gently to stop me from drying his hair. I chuckle softly and pat his cheek playfully.

"Ah, so you purposely hid it there. You should've known better, I'll pry all your secrets outta ya!" I kept on laughing then continued, "especially those of your beauty secrets!" Then I threw the towel at his face.

When he saw me grab the pair of scissors on his table, his hands shot up in defense. "Woah, okay that escalated quickly."

I put a hand on my waist and let the sass radiate off me. "It isn't your time yet, Parker. You haven't annoyed me to the maximum yet. I just noticed that your hair's grown a little too long now." Then, I grab him by his hand and lead him to the bathroom, my other hand dragging the stool with us too. 

There's no trace of retracting in his obedience with my grip, but Peter says otherwise. "Not to offend you at all but I haven't really seen you do good with a pair of scissors. You sure about this?" The fear in his voice totally cracks me up.

When I said Peter always rides along my antics and trouble, I mean I force him to. Peter didn't choose trouble, trouble chose him. Or maybe, I chose him. Either way, he has no choice but to obey. I'm not exactly a person who says please.

"Well, you haven't seen me do badly with scissors either, now haven't you?" I tease him even more by making the scissors go 'swish swish'. His eyes widen a bit while his Adam's apple bob up and down. Peter replies with a silent 'alright'.

I was confident and cocky as usual, massaging Peter's shoulders, telling him to relax until I feel it. I freeze like a criminal caught red-handed and retract my hand that was holding the pair of scissors. I shut my eyes real tight in utter discomfort and Peter immediately sees this from the mirror.

He spins to me with big and wide concerned eyes. His hands find their way around my shoulders, holding me protectively. "Hey, what’s wrong? You suddenly got quiet.” I remain stiffly frozen, gripping on to the scissors even tighter. Peter's eyes widen even more as if he realizes something. "Is one of those really painful migraines? Oh my God, take a seat Y/N, let me--" he began fussing and I immediately stopped him before he even worried over my silliness.

I open my eyes and grab his shoulder, gently pushing him back down the chair. Well, I also used his shoulder to transfer my weight to my dry and clean foot, leaning a little bit towards him. I show him a tight smile and reply, “Everything was fine until I stepped on a wet spot." His panic turns into realization and his mouth drops to a small 'O'. "And now I have a wet sock and it’s torture.” I exaggerate the last word before slowly lifting my foot that's soaked.

I lean in too much and almost fall before Peter stands and catches me and bring the balance back. He takes the scissors from my fingers and helps me sit down on the chair. He has this silly grin on his lips and I can see from the way he bites on them that he's trying his best not to let the guffaw out. I roll my eyes and berate him. "Go ahead, Peter. No one's holding you back from making fun of me. Except maybe the fact that I will so get you back for this..."

My stomach flips and shivers run down my spine. I'm lost in my words when Peter's hands slowly remove the wet sock off my feet. His warm fingers caress the cool and pale skin of my foot. The gesture was so sincere and pure that I had trailed off. How can a boy be so... genuine? Only Peter Parker can make the shrew I am turn into an unguarded fragile girl. And I love him for that. He mutters a 'wait a sec' and reaches for a hand towel stowed in one of the cabinets. Then, of course, he begins wiping my toes so gently. Suddenly, I can't handle the sweetness and kilig he's pouring over me with these too innocent and sincere gestures, so I stop him by clasping my hands around his. "I can.. I can do that myself."

His eyes meet mine and I realize I was too astounded and embarrassed that I failed to notice his shoulders that were slightly shaking in an attempt of holding his laughter back. He has this funny smile plastered on his face and a glint in his crinkled eyes that I couldn't help but laugh too. "Head over heels for me, now aren't you?" His wet locks brush against his eyelashes that had me even more mesmerized that I ignored his remark and ruffled his hair instead.

I pinch his ear teasingly before removing my other sock and switching our places. He fooled me with that one, I'm definitely not letting him win. "Tryna delay the torture now, ain't ya? Sorry, Mr. Parker, you are in dire need of a haircut and whether you like it or not, I'm giving you one!" I hold him down by his shoulders and smile like a fool. Yeah, a fool for Peter Parker.

He nods and admits defeat. "Alright, alright. Just try to minimize the damage alright?" Peter places his palms on top of mine and pulls them away from his shoulders. I grab the pair of scissors from the sink and glare at him.

"What was that, Peter?"

He rolls his eyes and heaves a sigh. "Try not to shave my head bald, pretty please?"

We continue on, bantering and teasing each other, but mostly I do the mocking since we know who's superior here. I've done my own work with the scissors, cutting my own fringe and trimming an inch or two of my own hair. I reassure Peter that he'll come out of this bathroom looking decent and fresh like he's never looked.

"Oh, so totally fell for my not-so-decent look? Ms. Y/LN, I am beginning to question your taste." He cocks an eyebrow and me and I not-so-gently flick him at the back of his head.

I exaggerate my movements, cutting seemingly more roughly. "Oh, since when did I allow you to talk back at me, Parker? Where is all this audacity coming from, huh?" I threaten him more by holding a large chunk of hair and placing the open blade of the scissors beside it.

His eyes widen and his hands wave frantically. "Alright, alright! Please salvage my hair," he pleads and I continue snipping gently this time. Peter makes another retort. "Well, I do learn only from the best, the most audacious, the greatest." A wink finishes his remark.

I laugh softly and clip a few strands of hair between my fingers, measuring it before cutting again. "Of course you do, Peter. You do." I continue my work in silence and although I could feel Peter's eyes training on me with every snip, taking in my every feature, I act like I don't notice it at all and chatter away. "Anyway, isn't it better for Spider-man to have shorter hair because of the mask and all? I bet it gets stuffy in there and the hair will just make it worse and the sweat, right? Spider-man sure is a tough--"

He turns ever so quickly and stiffly to place his hand over my mouth to shut me up. "O dear, Y/N! Aunt May's right over the other side. These walls aren't too thick, you know? Not soundproof at all!" he scolds me in a whisper-shout and I can't help but see the hidden meaning in his words.

I cup his face with one hand and stare into his eyes with a challenge. "How did you know that, Peter? Have you proven that these walls are soundproof?" My gestures are very suggestive and Peter being Peter, he flushes immediately.

His eyes suddenly find the floor more attractive than my eyes. "Well, I haven't actually, um.. proved that.. yet.." He trails off, slowly turning his back at me.

I halt him by cupping his chin and turning his red-as-a-tomato face back to meet my gaze. "Yet, Peter? Are you suggesting something right now?..." I bring my face closer to his and feel him fidget under my grip. He closes his eyes tight to avoid my mischievous ones and I laugh at his unease. He peeks through his shut eyes, as if asking if I'm done torturing him, but instead his eyes widen at the sight of my hand.

He jolts and yanks my left hand. Let me just throw this in here somewhere: bleeding left hand. "Dear Jesus, I'm so sorry Y/N! You must've grazed it when I spun so quickly earlier! What should I do, what should I do, what should I do..." Peter continues panicking meanwhile I admit I did feel a prick earlier but wasn't painful enough to attract my attention. He handles my oozing finger and tries to press a hand towel against it. I decide to play with Peter a little bit more.

"O-Ow, that hurts..."

“Sorry, dear! Oh my God, you’re bleeding. Am I supposed to put pressure here like I learned in health class?” He fumbles over my finger and dabs the towel too gently, doing nothing to stop the blood from flowing. 

“You’re the one on a science scholarship at Empire State, don’t ask me!” Laughing, I take in the sight before me. I never expected that Peter would ever hold me so gently like I'm a present inside a box that's stamped 'fragile'. His eyes furrowed in concern and panic, his hair an unfinished mess, his lips bitten in worry for my tiny finger. Right there, I realize how much the gods have blessed me with this precious boy.

I drop the scissor on the sink and brush his freshly cut hair behind his ear so lovingly. "You’re so cute when you panic, darling. Maybe I should hurt myself more to see this new side of yours." He looks up at me in disbelief and sends me a frustrated look.

Peter frowns ever so cutely. I love the way his eyebrows scrunch and his lips jut out."Are you being serious now? Goddamit, I can’t think straight!” he shouts, but then going back to nursing my injured finger.

I then realize that I don't need to wait for Peter's response to my feelings. I don't have to hear the words of approval from him. I just realized that today,from the way he always calms me down whenever I'm left upset by our investigations that almost go nowhere every time, the way he held my hand back in the streets, the way he puts up with my antics and the trouble that I bring to him, the way he's opening a new side of him to me every day, the way allows me cut his hair, knowing I'll mess it up. I realize that Peter will never be able to verbally show me that he feels the same way because we all know he's not good at all with words. No, but he is great with actions. And actions do indeed speak louder than words.

In the midst of his mumbling of profanities and ransacking the cabinets for band-aids, I grab his wrist and make me squat in front of me. Now that our eyes are level with each other, I decided to announce my realizations for the day.

"Peter Parker, I declare that I will no longer wait for your reply to my confession. I will not because the way you are holding my hand so gently right now is response enough. The way you stare into my eyes and get lost in them like I do with yours is response enough. The way you are here right beside me despite my madness is response enough. This declaration is non-negotiable."

The small 'o' in his lips turn to a sheepish smile. He squeezes my right hand tighter and chuckles. "Well, I know too well none of your words are ever negotiable. And finally! You took the hint. You know I'm not too good with words, Y/N..."

A broad smile appears on my lips and I lurch into Peter and engulf him in my arms. "Oh, how lucky I am for our stars to align like this." We lay on the cold floor of the bathroom, laughing and chuckling like the fools we are for each other.

Before he releases me, he plants a soft kiss on my ear. Then our eyes meet and I can't help but smile. Lucky isn't the right word. God blessed me with you, dear."

DIDYA LIKE IT DIDYA LIKE IT?? hehe, leave that reblog and like then ;+ )) huhu i need love and appreciation ;((