#fanficmas

[watchmegetobsessed]

SECRET RECIPE

A/N: its out last sunday fic of fanficmas! still working on the second christmas fic, i got into a bit of a delay but im hoping to finish it on time!

WORD COUNT: 2.4k

SUMMARY: Christmas time brings some worries and surprises and of course lots of love in the life of Nan and Harry.

MORE FROM THE NAN&HARRY UNIVERSE

This fic is part of ❄️ FANFICmas 2022 ❄️ Read more about fanficmas here!

 Harry’s in the middle of recording a verse for a new song he’s been working on for the past days when the music cuts off and he looks at the technician through the window with a confused expression.

“What happened?” he asks, pulling the headphones off. Jim, the technician presses a button and speaks into the mic that carries sound into the booth.

“Man, your phone is blowing up.”

“It’s fine, I’ll just call them back,” he shrugs.

“It’s Y/N. She’s called like six times in the past two minutes.”

His stomach churns.

He’s fast to exit the booth, fetching his phone from one of the seats. You know he’s at the studio and wouldn’t call if it wasn’t an emergency.

“Let’s take five,” he says, unlocking his phone and opening his call log, seeing all the missed calls from you. Jim knows it’s his cue to leave, he walks out without a word as Harry dials your number, a knot forming in the pit of his stomach.

“Harry!” you answer out of breath.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m on my way to the hospital.”

“What? Are you okay?”

“Harry, it’s not me, it’s Nan,” you let out a shaky breath.

“I’m on my way,” he says, packing up his things immediately.

Jim doesn’t fuss when Harry ends the session early. He jumps into his car and you tell him what happened as he heads to the hospital as well. Nan apparently went on a date and out of all the activities she could have done with her date, she went skating.

“What was she thinking?!” he snaps, smacking his hand against the steering wheel when he has to stop at a red light.

“I just arrived, how far are you?”

“Ten minutes away.”

“Alright, meet you here.”

Harry soon arrives at the hospital and parks his car down in a frenzy, rushing inside. The nurse behind the desk recognizes him right away, but before she could start fangirling, you come up to him running.

“Hey! There you are,” you exhale, hugging him tight.

“How is she?”

“She fractured her hip, can you believe it?”

“For real, I love her more than anything, but sometimes she can act like a child,” he shakes his head in disapproval.

Walking down the hallways you stop at room 102 and Harry follows you inside. Nan is right there, lying in bed, chatting with the nurse, already telling her about recipes and gardening.

“I promise you Sweetheart, that’s the key to the perfect banana bread!” she explains and her face lights up when she sees the two of you flood into the room. “Harry! So good to see you!”

“Nan, what did you do?” he questions right away, ignoring the way the nurse blushes upon seeing him before walking out of the room.

“Oh, nothing crazy, don’t worry about me!”

“Skating at your age is actually crazy, Nan,” you shake your head, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, careful not to hurt her.”

“Aye, watch your mouth!” she wiggles a finger at you, but you just roll your eyes at her.

“Let’s start at the very beginning. You were on a date?!” Harry gawks at her, standing over you. Most of his worry is gone, seeing Nan be her usual sweet but sassy self.

“Oh, we’re not talking about that,” Nan waves around, but there’s no way Harry will just drop it like that.

“No, no, no, you’re not getting away with it! You didn’t tell us! Who was he anyway?”

“It’s none of your business! I’m a big girl!” she jokes.

“Yes, but going on a date is something you share with your family, don’t you think?” you ask, giving her hand a squeeze. “You demanded to know everything about my first date with Harry, it’s not fair you keep things like this from us!”

“Frank’s daughter works at the flower shop on Ernest Road. I’ve run into him several times before and we’ve had some pleasant conversations. He asked me out and I said yes, that’s it,” she shrugs, fixing her hair just to avoid looking at you or Harry.

“And you didn’t have a better idea than skating? Nan, you have to be careful!”

“I used to be a great skater in high school!” she protests like a little kid, Harry needs to bite a smile back.

“Oh my God,” you pinch the bride of your nose. “I’m gonna get you something to drink. Harry, stay with her so she doesn’t go skydiving or something,” you mumble as you walk out of the room.

“I’m kind of offended, Nan,” Harry places a hand over his chest, stepping closer to her bed. “I thought I was your guy.”

“Oh, Harry!” she sighs. “You know you’re my number one,” she chuckles, a slight blush tinting her cheeks that just makes Harry even more confident about himself.

“Apparently Frank took my place!” he scoffs dramatically. “I need to meet him, Nan. I’m not gonna let him just steal you away like that, I have to make sure you’re in good hands!”

“Please, don’t act like I’m getting engaged!” she chuckles. “It was just a date!”

“Yeah, but then more dates come and next thing we know you’re walking down the aisle!”

Nan lets out a belly laugh that soon turns into a wince and Harry instantly regrets joking around.

“I’m alright, I’m alright,” she assures him when he moves to check her. “Harry, I’m just looking for some company, I won’t remarry.”

“I know,” his gaze softens, sitting down to the edge of her bed. “And I want you to have fun, but you need to be more careful. You’re sturdy, but not indestructible, okay?”

“I know,” she sighs. “Just wanted to have some fun like when I was younger.”

“We’ll find another way that doesn’t include fractured hips,” he smirks at her.

Harry has been MIA for hours. It’s not unusual when he’s at the studio, but you know for a fact he has the day off, so why isn’t he answering your texts?

You keep wondering as your work day drags by and when you finally head home, you try to call him again. It rings and rings and you’re starting to get anxious that something might have happened to him. When you think it will go unanswered the ringing finally breaks and a familiar voice answers, but it doesn’t belong to your fiancé.

“Y/N? Hi!” Nan’s upbeat voice welcomes you and relief washes over you.

“Nan? Would you mind telling where my man is?” you chuckle as you get into the car. The phone connects and the answer comes through the speakers.

“Oh, he is just up on my roof!” she says as if it wasn’t a big deal at all.

“What?” you chuckle in disbelief. “Why?”

“He’s helping me decorate! Showed up here this morning, he’s been doing all the work all day!”

“Oh God, of course he did,” you chuckle.

It’s been a week since Nan’s skating accident and she’s been miserable because she can’t get around like she usually does. She has someone from the family checking up on her every day and a nurse comes by in the morning and in the night too, but you all know how much she hates to be in need of help. You keep telling her it’s just temporary, she’s been having a great recovery, but she needs to be more patient with herself.

Harry must have wanted to make her feel better, she’s been moping about not being able to decorate like she usually does, so your fiancé probably took matters into his own hands.

Without thinking twice, you head over to Nan’s place to check up on both of them. When you arrive, you’re glad to see all the décor Nan whips out every year. Lights are running along the edge of the roof, huge candy canes are peeking out of the ground in the garden up front and garlands are snaking up the columns of the front porch. And the last touch? Santa’s sleigh is on the roof, Nan’s favorite décor every kid adores around the neighborhood.

You knock on the front door with a goofy grin, looking at the snowman ornament hanging on it. The door flies open and you’re met with your lover.

“Hey there,” he smirks and pulling you inside he greets you with a big kiss on your cold lips.

“Hi! Nan said you’ve turned into her little elf for the day,” you chuckle, enjoying the warmth inside as Harry takes your coat.

“I did the best I could,” he smirks shyly.

“Y/N! Hi!” Nan cheers from her armchair, her cane resting against the side of it. Before she could try to push herself up to greet you, which for sure she plans to, you rush over and plant a smooching kiss to her cheek, stopping her from moving.

“Stay, Nan. How are you feeling?”

“I’ve had a great day with Harry. Did you see the décor outside?” she beams.

“I did, looks great,” you smile at her.

Harry makes some tea and the three of you sit by the fireplace. Nan is obviously happy to have company and you’re glad to be spending time with her. She really scared you with her little accident earlier, she got lucky, it could have turned out to be way worse.

“Alright, you two head home and be together,” she sighs, checking the time and seeing how late it has gotten.

“We’re happy to be here, Nan,” Harry smiles, taking her empty mug and heading to the kitchen to clean up.

“Y/N, give me that box over there,” she gestures at a little wooden box on the shelves next to the fireplace. You obey and hand her the box, watching her dig into the stack of papers inside. “Here, this is for you,” she hands one over and you take it, scanning over it curiously.

“What’s thi— Oh. This is… This is your secret recipe. Your gingersnap cookies…”

“I want you to have it.”

“But why? You haven’t given it to any of my cousins yet,” you look at her with wide eyes.

This recipe comes from Nan’s grandma, so it’s been in the family for a long time. Every woman eventually gets it, your mom has it too, but she can only pass it on to the generation coming after you, that’s the rule. Nan hasn’t passed it on to anyone and you and your cousins have been wondering who’ll get it first.

She chose you. Though you would have sworn your cousin Riley would be the first, she is the first who got pregnant and now has two kids.

“Because what you and Harry have reminds me the most of what I had with Steven. Riley’s husband would have never spent the day here, climbing on my roof and hanging ornaments. And Lydia… God, I’m afraid she will never settle!” she chuckles, bringing up your female cousins. “You two… are something truly special and soon you’ll finally get married. I want you to know how to make it by the time you’ll have babies.”

You can’t help the tear that rolls down your cheek as you lean closer and give her a hug.

“Thank you, Nan,” you whisper, kissing her cheek right when Harry walks back in. He looks startled to see you crying.

“Woah, did I miss something?” he cautiously asks, but you just shake your head chuckling.

“Everything is perfect, don’t worry,” Nan smiles up at him. You give Harry a look that tells him to just drop it and so he nods.

The nurse arrives to help Nan get ready for bed when you leave and you hug her just a few moments longer than you usually do before walking out.

“Are you sure everything is alright?” Harry asks when you’re home, standing side by side in the bathroom, doing your usual night time routine.

“Nan gave me her gingersnap cookie recipe,” you say with a smile as you brush your hair, looking at him from the mirror. For a moment, he rakes his mind to figure out what it means and when he does, his eyes go wide.

“Oh! You’re the first one then!” he beams at you proudly.

“Yeah,” you chuckle. “She said that what we have reminds her of what she had with Pa.”

“That’s very sweet,” he smiles, brushing a hand across your back, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

“She also brought up us having babies, I think she is getting impatient,” you add with a little laugh as you turn around and lean against the sink to face him.

“Wow, she can never have enough!” he grins. “I got comments on proposing to you for months and now that we have the date reserved she found something else to poke me about!”

“She’s not rushing us, you know. Just wants to see us become parents.”

“Soon,” he smiles and stepping closer his hands find your waist. “First, let’s make us official. Then we can move on to baby making.”

“So… that’s the plan?” you tilt your head to the side.

“Is it not?”

“I don’t know,” you chew your bottom lip.

“Y/N? Want to share something with me?” He takes your chin between his thumb and index finger, making you look him in the eyes.

“I was just thinking… We’re getting married in February. It’s not that far away, maybe we could… start trying sooner? It might not happen right away and if it does, it wouldn’t even show at the wedding…”

For some reason you feel so nervous about proposing your idea. You’ve talked about trying for a baby next year, you’re very much on the same page so even if he says no for now, you’d definitely start in a few months. You just figured that maybe you could start sooner.

Harry gently cradles your face in his hands, a tiny smile tugging on the edges of his mouth.

“So… we should just drop the pills, hm?”

“Y-Yeah. I mean, only if you’re okay with it. We don’t have to if you—“

He presses his lips to your lips, melting away your nervousness instantly as he kisses you softly but passionately.

“I’m more than okay, Y/N. I know you’re it for me, we don’t have to wait for a certain date to start trying.”

You can’t stop your growing smile as you look up at him.

“Okay. No more pills then,” you bite into your bottom lip.

“And a lot of baby making,” he smirks cockily, sweeping off your feet and carrying you into the bedroom. You’re a giggling mess as he throws you to the mattress, but they soon die down when he gets on top of you, occupying your lips with something much more exciting.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[pancakes4two]

baby please come home

happy holidays everyone! i wanted to write something short for @watchmegetobsessed​‘s fanficmas to close out the year. i’ve had the best time writing a bunch of concepts these last few months so... here is an ode to the first harry i wrote this year & the most recent 💗 enjoy!

preview: Harry disappears from public view until January, wanting to close out the year in private. He does, however, decide to share a photo of the three of you sitting under the tree on Christmas. You’re grinning at the camera, leaning close to Harry. Beau is sitting in your lap, fuzzy antlers sitting atop his head. His entire body is turned towards Harry, big brown eyes glittering as he stares as his dad and reaches for him with tiny hands. Harry’s smiling so wide his eyes may as well be closed, his face flush with nothing but pure joy.

He captions the photo: Christmas Morning. Harry’s House. December, 2022. It gets 10 million likes in 24 hours.

MASTERLIST | TALK TO ME

1. christmas with dadrry (from this blurb!)

Harry is playing his last show of 2022 when he decides to have a little fun. He’s been in Brazil for the past couple of days, closing out the Latin American leg of Love on Tour. Three stops ago in Argentina, he’d sent you and your son off on a plane home to London. With the two of you now being 5,000 miles away, he can’t help but ache for home a little more than usual, despite the fact that he’ll be joining you at home soon. A sign at the barricade reminds him of this fact, as he prepares to give a speech to lead into his encore.

“So…” Harry says, popping out his hip dramatically, “Before we move on to our last couple of songs, there’s a sign up at the front here that I want to address.”

The arena explodes in chatter as a spotlight comes down from above, searching for the flashy poster board. Harry squints and twists his microphone cord between his fingers, (he mentally notes that next year will be the year he finally starts using a wireless mic) and points when he manages to spot the sign he had noticed earlier.

“Right, this sign says,” Harry pauses as a cameraman beside him zooms in on the sign, projecting it onto the large screens behind the stage. “We came here for Y/N and no-one else.”

The crowd bursts into collective laughter and hoots, and Harry sees a few phone shoot up in the front row, eager to capture the obvious fan interaction that’s about to take place. He walks closer to the edge of the stage, and kneels down directly in front of the two fans that had brought the sign.

“Let me just start by saying how could you,” Harry brings a hand to his chest, squeezing his fist and trying his best to school his expression into one of dramatic anguish. One of the fans belly-laughs, while the other takes his reaction more to heart, waving her hands in the air and trying to rationalize the statement that had been written on their sign. “Only joking! But I am a bit hurt. It’s my name that’s attached to the tour, the posters, the merch, after all...”

“Sadly, I do have to inform you that Y/N has left with our son to go back home,” Harry squints out at the audience. The crowd groans loudly at that, and the sound of Mitch’s laughter comes through his in-ear monitors.

“Soooo, you’ll have to deal with it just being me up here!” Harry points a thumb at himself, turning around to give Mitch the finger with his other hand. “It is, however, close to Christmas, and I must admit I’m missing my family too. So we’ll see if we can do something about that.”

Harry gestures for the production lead then, and the fans that make up the first couple of rows in the stadium look to each other curiously, wondering why Harry’s suddenly gone off-script. While they whisper amongst themselves, the production lead runs up on stage and hands Harry his phone. He wiggles it in the air, brandishing it in front of the crowd. They cheer in anticipation for what he’s about to do next. The screen on Harry’s phone turns on in response to all his movement, and the stadium unexpectedly gets a glimpse of his wallpaper. It’s a picture of you and Beau, taken not more than a month ago, posing in front of Foro Sol in Mexico City. Beau’s wearing a Love on Tour shirt that’s comically large on his tiny body, sucking on a pacifier as you hold him to your chest, pointing at the massive screen displaying Harry’s name behind you. The entire crowd coos upon seeing the image, and even more phones shoot up to record the moment. Harry smirks knowingly, as if to say: adorable, isn’t it?

He holds his phone to his chest then, hiding it from view as he types in his passcode and swipes through his apps. He opens up your contact card and presses the FaceTime button, shushing the crowd when the call goes through. It’s late enough at night back home in London that he’s sure Beau’s asleep already, but you’re still awake and will be able to pick up his calls without disturbing the sleeping baby. The screen takes a moment to load before your face pops up, slightly pixellated and makeup-less, but beautiful nonetheless. Harry turns his phone back towards the crowd, and they can’t hold in their excitement when they see your face projected onto the stadium screens.

“Say hi everyone!” Harry waves at his phone, grinning at how the crowd has welcomed you. “Y/N, everyone’s been missing you, and now that I’ve got you here, it only seems fitting that I sing something special tonight...”

You give Harry a confused look through the phone, and he says nothing in response, just smiles and cues Pauli in. Pauli twirls a set of mallets between their fingers and begins to play a xylophone in front of them. They count themself in, and the starting notes to Mariah Carey’s All I Want For Christmas Is You sound through the stadium. 

Harry can’t hear you over the noise of the crowd, but he sees you shake your head at him and swears you yell out, “Shut the fuck up!!!” as he starts to sing.

“I don’t want a lot for Christmas, there is just one thing I need. I don’t care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree. I just want you for my own, more than you could ever know, make my wish come true... all I want for Christmas is you!”

Harry prances around the stage with you on his phone, directing the lyrics to your smiling face on the screen. The crowd dances along and Sarah points and laughs when Harry passes by, fondly admiring just how much of a hopeless romantic he is. As the song continues, Harry decides to leap across the catwalk, determined to make this performance as extra as humanly possible. The crowd reaches for him, but in this moment he only has eyes for you. He brings his phone out in front of him as he shimmies in front of the camera, reminding you that, “Baby, all I want for Christmas is you.”

When Harry launches into the bridge, he points up at the sky. A loud pop sounds through the venue as cannons that had been rigged onto the stage release tiny pieces of confetti that had been shaped into snowflakes. The paper rains down onto the crowd, blanketing the entire stage and floor into a sea of white. The pretend-snowflakes continue to cascade through the sky, glistening under all the stage lights, and Harry ends the song by running back towards the main stage and collapsing backwards onto it. He moves his limbs up and down through the confetti that now covers the surface as if to make a snow angel. He looks up at your smiling face, still watching him sing through his phone, and it’s almost as if you’re there with him. It’s only been a few days and yet he still misses you like crazy. Harry gets lost in the moment for a second, before the crowd drags him back down into reality. He sits up, brushing the confetti out of his hair, and smiles at the sea of people looking at him adoringly.

“Hope you didn’t mind that little switch-up, there,” Harry beams, “just felt like singing a Christmas song tonight.”

“Now, we’re gonna say bye to Y/N,” he continues, placing his microphone behind his back so he can speak to you privately. The crowd boos in response, and you laugh. 

“Let me talk to your fans!” you say, wagging a disapproving finger at Harry.

“You’re a demanding bunch!” Harry jokes, putting his microphone back under his phone speaker. Your voice comes through over the venue speakers, a little tinny, but understandable. 

“Goodnight everyone! Hope you had lots of fun tonight, and thank you so much for the surprise. Take care of H for me so he comes back home all in one piece,” you blow a kiss to your phone and Harry catches it, keeping it in his back pocket.

“That was for the fans, you idiot!” You laugh, and Harry throws his hands up at the crowd when they start to laugh at him.

“Okay, no more listening privileges for you lot if you’re just going to make fun of me,” he sighs jokingly, hiding his mic behind his back again. He brings the speaker up to his mouth so you can hear him properly.

“Be home soon,” he says, “love you so much. Sleep well and text me when you’re up.”

“Love you too, goodnight, H,” you smile, hanging up the call. Harry turns back around and sees his crowd looking disappointed at the fact that they weren’t able to hear the last bit of your conversation.

“Don’t look at me like that! Some conversations are better left private,” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, and Mitch throws a guitar pick at him, having heard the conversation and knowing that it had not gone at all like what Harry was implying. “Anyways, onto the encore...”

LONDON, A FEW DAYS LATER

Christmas morning arrives in a blur. Harry’s finally sufficiently rested after battling with jet lag, though he still finds himself waking up slightly earlier than usual. The sun is only starting to rise, and it had snowed the night before. He looks outside the window to see the landscape painted in a winter glow. The Christmas lights that you’d put up after coming home are wrapped around the trees and shrubs outside, providing some warmth to the otherwise blue atmosphere.

Harry makes his way into the living room, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He finds you awake already in the kitchen, with Beau on your side, heating up a pot of tea. Beau is looking determined, sucking on a baby bottle with force as he clings onto his mother. You both notice Harry at the same time—you look up at him and your features soften, while Beau drops his bottle on the counter and reaches for Harry, babbling for his dad.

“Alright, alright; there’s more than enough me to go around,” Harry laughs, taking Beau from you. “Good morning. Happy Christmas.”

“Mm,” you hum while Harry kisses you. You pour two cups of tea, putting milk in sugar in one mug for you and just milk in the other for Harry. You hand his mug to him, and the two of you head over to the tree. It’s placed right in front of the largest window in the living room so it catches the most light. In the early morning, the entire space fills with a cozy light, the ornaments shining softly under twinkling lights. Both of you had decided on not giving each other gifts this year, preferring to absolutely spoil Beau rotten instead.

“Let’s open your presents now, Beau-bear,” Harry coos, bouncing the infant gently in his arms. It’s crazy, how much his life has changed in the last year. He looks at Beau, who’s looking curiously at the box in Harry’s hand, and you, quietly sipping on your morning tea. Harry’s chest swells with a whole host of emotions that he doesn’t necessarily know what to do with—but he does know that this is exactly where he belongs. He’s spent the better half of the year away from home and written an entire record exploring the idea of home. But he knows now that this is it. This is home: Christmas morning spent with the love of his life and his child. The presents that fill the entire space underneath the tree, a Christmas album playing over the sound system in the living room, Beau in a reindeer onesie, you wrapped up in a wool scarf, the snow that’ll decorate your lashes later when the three of you go out in the snow.

Harry disappears from public view until January, wanting to close out the year in private. He does, however, decide to share a photo of the three of you sitting under the tree on Christmas. You’re grinning at the camera, leaning close to Harry. Beau is sitting in your lap, fuzzy antlers sitting atop his head. His entire body is turned towards Harry, big brown eyes glittering as he stares as his dad and reaches for him with tiny hands. Harry’s smiling so wide his eyes may as well be closed, his face flush with nothing but pure joy.

He captions the photo: Christmas Morning. Harry’s House. December, 2022. It gets 10 million likes in 24 hours.

2. christmas with young harry (from this blurb!)

“Y/N!” You hear someone call out distantly from your bedroom window. “Y/N!”

The voice gets closer, and you realize it belongs to Harry. Abandoning the notebook you were currently writing in, you cap your pen and run down the stairs. Once you’ve turned the corner into your living room, though, you see that your parents have already let him in. Harry waves at you from the front door, pulling off his shoes and dusting snow off of the knit beanie resting atop his head. He hands a tin of what could only be Christmas cookies to your mom, and she pulls him into a hug.

“Happy Christmas,” Harry grins, “Mum said she liked the cookies best plain, but I think they’re better with warm milk.”

“We’ll have to try them both ways, then,” your dad responds, clapping Harry on the back. “Happy Christmas, H. Did you bike here?”

“Yeah,” Harry responds a little breathlessly. You notice that his cheeks are more pink than usual due to the cold, and the parts of his hair that weren’t covered by his hat were curling in all different directions, blown out of place by the wind. “Wanted to give Y/N her present before dinner.”

“How lovely!” Your mom coos in response, “We’ll leave you to it. Don’t forget to keep your door open, Y/N!”

Harry laughs while you roll your eyes exasperatedly at your mom. The two of you head upstairs, him trailing slightly behind you with a careful hand on your waist. You hadn’t realized earlier, but he’s wearing a backpack. It looks rather full, like the zippers are about to burst from the size of whatever he’s stuffed inside it.

“What are you planning on giving me, a bomb?!” You joke, poking at the bag’s exterior.

“Shut up!” Harry groans, “of course not! I couldn’t bring a bigger bag with me on the bike, so like, I had to make do.”

“Only joking,” you giggle, opening the door to your bedroom. Harry takes off his jacket and hangs it on the back of your desk chair before flopping onto your bed. He’s wearing a navy-colored crewneck that’s too big for him, and the sleeves go past his hands. His skin is still flushed from the temperature outside, and you think he looks absolutely adorable like this, all cozy in your room. You sit across from him and tangle your legs together. The two of you have been together for almost four months now, thanks to your friends leaving you in a room alone and basically forcing you to confess your feelings to one another at the end of the summer, but you can’t help but still be a little awkward. Harry’s your first boyfriend, and you’re still trying to make sense of the magnitude of what you feel for him. It scares you a little, how much you’ve started to care for him and how you find yourself wanting to know more about him always, from the big things down to the tiny mundane details of his life. But it also brings you comfort, knowing that you can hold so much fondness for someone else, and have those same feelings be reciprocated.

The two of you have been looking forward to Christmas—you got together too late in the year for Harry to be able give you what he had called a proper, boyfriend birthday gift, and Harry has yet to celebrate his own in February. Both of you were excited to exchange gifts as a couple for the first time, somehow, they just meant so much more to you now that your relationship had evolved beyond just friendship. October had barely ended before you started thinking about his gift. You wanted it to be absolutely perfect.

“Were you doing homework before you came?” Harry asks incredulously. He must’ve caught a glimpse of your notebook when he set his backpack down. “How do you still have work left to do?”

“It’s for next term,” you reply sheepishly, “I got bored and wanted to plan out the classes I’m taking starting January... I figured I might as well get a head start while I’m home...”

“Ever the bookworm,” Harry looks at you fondly, reaching over to ruffle your hair. You loved that about him, the fact that he never made you feel badly about anything you did. Between the two of you, you were definitely the more academically-inclined one. While you sat diligently at the front of class taking notes, your boyfriend preferred to sit near the back, cracking jokes until your teacher got annoyed and focusing more on making the setlist for his band’s latest gig, instead of his assignments.

“Wonder if I can convince you to do my homework for a month as a gift,” Harry pulls you closer to him, cupping your face in his hands. He’s about to kiss you when you turn around suddenly, forcing his lips to meet only your cheek.

“No can do,” you smirk when he pouts at you, obviously disappointed that his act of affection didn’t go as originally planned. “We both know you’re meant for bigger things than school, H, but you just need to stick it through for a few more months and before you know it, you’ll be all done with GSCEs.”

“I suppose,” Harry huffs childishly, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning up at you. You kick at his arm with a socked foot, giggling at him. He reaches for your hand and unzips his backpack, pulling out a large, misshapen object that’s been tied together with ribbon. You’re not sure what the gift is meant to be—the Christmas tree-patterned wrapping paper is folded and bent in ways you didn’t know were physically possible, and there’s several pieces of tape stuck to the sides of it, patched on in an attempt to cover places where the gift wrap had ripped.

“I wanted to wrap it myself,” Harry explains, pulling at a non-existent thread on his sleeve, “but it obviously didn’t go too well.”

You laugh as he hands the gift to you, looking sufficiently deflated. “You get full marks for effort.”

“Before you open it,” Harry adds, watching you pull at one end of the ribbon. “I tried my best to get you something you really wanted, but I didn’t know if, like, someone else had already bought it for you, or anything... so there’s a receipt in there for you to exchange it for something else if you’d like.”

“Don’t be silly,” you reassure him, taking extra care to tear the paper carefully. The gift feels delicate in your hands, as if the item inside were made of something soft and pliable. You pause on opening the present for a moment to press a gentle kiss to your boyfriend’s knuckles: the last thing you’d want is to make him think you’d ever be disappointed in anything he gifted to you.

You finally manage to pull away at the gift wrap and tape, and your hands land on a cream-colored cardigan. You gasp and look at Harry, who’s looking between you and the object in your hands fondly, like he’d known exactly how you’d react all this time.

“There’s no way...” you say, turning the cardigan over in your hands, running your fingers along the careful stitches and admiring the tortoiseshell buttons. “But this is so... it costs so much... how?!”

Harry smiles at you, watching you unbutton the sweater carefully. “Well, I remember how much you liked it when you tried it on in the shop, so I worked some extra shifts at the bakery at the beginning of Christmas hols. I made Gem drive me down to the city yesterday and got it for you. It took a lot of convincing. She’s making me do her laundry for the next month.”

“It’s so perfect,” you say sincerely, enveloping Harry in a hug. You wish you could stay like this forever, safe in the embrace of a boy who makes you feel so massively, his arms locked behind your waist and his heartbeat steady against your chest. “I love it so much. You’re just the best.”

“Glad you love it,” Harry says softly, kissing your forehead and tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. He watches you intently as you reach under your bed and procure a holiday-themed bag. You hand it to him, tapping on his knee while he plays with the tissue paper inside.

“Your turn.”

“Did you gift me a bomb?” Harry jokes, weighing the bag in his hand and pretending to drop it because of how heavy it is.

“Like I’d kill you off after that incredible present you just got me,” you retort, kicking at him impatiently. “Enough stalling. Open it!”

Harry pulls away at the tissue paper and pulls out a large vinyl record, covered in plastic wrap. He shakes his head and looks at you with wide eyes. “Y/N. You didn’t.”

“I did,” you reply, grinning at him as he continues staring at you in amazement. Over the summer, Harry’s parents had accidentally donated his copy of Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours to a charity shop along with a box of his old clothes. You knew how much that record meant to him, so you’d gone to a small record shop the last time you were in the city and picked up a replacement.

“Y/NNNNN,” he drags out your name dramatically, peppering your face with chaste kisses.

“Come on, look at the bottom of the bag, there’s more,” you say, playing with his hair. Somehow, the two of you had ended up shifting closer and closer to each other in your excitement, and now you’re basically sitting on top of Harry, eagerly waiting for him to finish opening his gift.

“No way, two gifts?” Harry clutches his chest dramatically, “you must really like me.”

He pulls out a book from the bag, checking to make sure there’s nothing else inside that he’d accidentally overlooked. The cover is made of linen and bound together with ribbon. Stuck to the front is a polaroid of the two of you on Harry’s bike, you sitting behind him as he poses for the camera, both of you brandishing massive scoops of mint chocolate ice cream.

“What is this?” Harry whispers, flipping through the pages. Each page is covered in memories of the two of you, filled with pictures and tiny souvenirs from places you’d gone together.

A picture your mom had taken of the two of you asleep on the living room couch, your head enveloped in Harry’s chest. There’s a blanket covering the two of you, and in the distance, a TV is playing the ending of The Notebook--you’d obviously fallen asleep before getting to the best part.

A ticket stub from the first concert you’d gone to together. You still remember how you felt that night, colorful lights streaming down from above as music filled your ears, Harry dancing and singing loudly from right next to you.

A picture you took on your computer when the two of you were meant to be studying together in the school library, Harry sticking his tongue out at you while you flip him off playfully.

A picture your friends took of the two of you holding hands on the bus. The two of you dancing in Harry’s garden. The two of you running through a corn maze at the local farm. Harry waving at you from outside your bedroom window. A photobooth strip of the two of you: a vignette of him looking at you, a vignette of him turning your chin towards him, a vignette of your lips meeting.

“I figured, next year, when you’re off to the X-Factor and you get all big and famous, you can keep this with you when you’re away and it’ll remind you that I’m always thinking of you,” you say shyly. “You know, so you don’t forget me while you’re away.”

“How could I ever forget you?” Harry asks, and his voice is so sincere that it cuts straight to your heart. “I’d never get big or famous enough to forget about you. But this book, Y/N, it’s amazing. It means so much to me that you made this for me. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“Mhm,” you respond, smiling at him.

“Of course, you’re going to feel silly when they send me home right after auditions, and it’s back to me being your average boyfriend.”

“That’s not going to happen,” you say, and you mean every word of it. “Whole country’s gonna know your name soon.”

“Well, then I couldn’t be more grateful that you were the first one to know,” Harry says, pulling his phone out from his pocket. “Let me take a picture of us and tweet it to my two fans.”

You laugh then, and run your fingers through your hair to tame it. You pull yourself into Harry’s chest and he brings his phone out in front of the two of you. He kisses the top of your head, smiling through the action, and the digital camera clicks. You watch as he attaches the photo to a tweet and begins to type up a caption.

Christmas with my number one fan. Lucky she doesn’t know I’m her biggest fan, too. 

Harry presses send on the tweet and locks his phone. For now, no one sees it except for his sister, and the four other friends who actually follow his Twitter account. But twelve years later, when the whole world knows his name, a fan will find the tweet on his account, buried under thousands of other messages, and tag him in it. He’ll open it in the morning, with you asleep still beside him, and smile to himself as he remembers your first Christmas together. He’ll pull you a little closer as snow falls silently outside, brush your hair aside and listen to you breath steadily in his arms. He’ll lean in and whisper, Told you I could never forget you, and count himself lucky for all the holidays he’ll get to spend for the rest of his life with you right there beside him.

TAGLIST: @crazygirlinthisworld​ @grapejuice-rry​ @b-reads-things​ @s8tellite @michellekstyles​ @vrittivsanghavi​ @alienorknight​ @flwrmuse 

[finerllines]

christmas at mum's

a/n: hi everyone this is my contribution to @watchmegetobsessed fanficmas so go check out all of dory's fics. the prompt i chose is 'tradition? we have literally never done that.' this is also a little check in with charlie and harry from the love, charlie universe. i hope you guys enjoy, happy holidays!! <3

summary: it's charlie and harry's first christmas together as a couple and charlie has no clue how to behave

wc: 1.7k+

tw: none

///

Charlie’s been in this position before, so there is no reason to feel so on edge and out of place. She’s been to Anne’s a thousand times, including during the holidays, and yet, her brain is on overdrive trying to sense any eyes on her, and then distract herself to forget that people are looking at her. A good number of guests are familiar, being part of Anne’s usual Christmas party crowd, herself included, but there’s something about this year’s party that feels different.

A hand reaches from behind her and tips her chin back. Then, she gets a kiss on her forehead.

“Hi lover, are you okay? Why d’you look so tense, huh?”

Right. That’s why.

This is the first time she and Harry have been around his family as a couple. In fact, apart from his band and colleagues, they haven’t really made their new relationship known to anyone, choosing to spend most of their time together in private. For her sake and Rory’s.

She turns back to face Harry. Her boyfriend. Her partner. Her lover.

“I’m okay, just … don’t really know how to act. It’s my first time being around your family since we, you know.”

Harry smirks. “Since we started swapping spit.”

Rolling her eyes, Charlie replies dryly, “Yeah, since we started doing that.”

“Well, mum and Gem already know, and I’ve already told them to not say anything to you or to anyone, because I know you’ll get all flustered and embarrassed. So, as long as you can keep your hands to yourself, we’ll just about survive tonight.”

She rolls her eyes again.

He rounds the sofa to sit next to Charlie. Her draw to him is undeniable and she instinctively leans into him. He reaches for her hand and brings it up to his mouth to kiss it softly.

“You wanna tell me what is really bothering you?” he whispers by the side of her ear.

“Nothing. Just don’t know how to behave.”

“Try again. I know that’s not it.”

She would be frustrated that he can see right through her if he hasn’t been doing this for years. Instead, she just feels embarrassed about what she’s about to admit.

“My parents aren’t here,” she mumbles.

Neither of them move at her admittance. Charlie feels Harry’s body tense and she mentally smacks herself for mentioning it, for punching all the festive cheer out of Harry’s body. They had come last year without her, making some excuse to account for her rare absence, while Charlie spent her first Christmas alone. Well, not alone, with her daughter. It’s not that Christmas is particularly special to her and her family - Christmas isn’t really celebrated in their culture – but the one Christmas-y tradition they had was going to Anne’s to have a traditional English Christmas dinner. They had never missed one. Until Rory came along. Then all of that happened.

Just as she goes to apologise for dampening the festive cheer, he beats her to the punch. “I’m sorry, it’s stupid of me to have forgotten.” His grip around her hand tightens and he starts moving his thumb back and forth on her wrist hoping to soothe her. “But now you get to make holiday traditions with your new family, with Rory.” Then, in a smaller voice, he adds, “And me.”

The lump in Charlie’s throat seems impossible to swallow, so she just nods. She can’t believe it. Harry, her gem of a partner, is disappointed in himself for not remembering something very sad that happened in her life – something that she chooses to never mention – and is still so hesitant to insert himself into her life.  

Peeking behind her again, she sees that Anne and her guests are all still enthralled by Rory, who is happily making funny faces to her audience of adults. Quickly, she tilts her head up to steal a kiss, pulling away before he has time to respond, hoping to communicate her gratitude without words.

“Hey,” Harry whines softly then connects their lips again. For longer this time, allowing him to slowly savour her taste. A hand on his chest gently pushing him back causes him to pull away. “What, you embarrassed of me?” he jokes. But Charlie isn’t looking at him. Instead, she’s looking back at everyone else to make sure they’re still preoccupied.

“I don’t know about your family, but in mine, we don’t even have prolonged eye contact with our significant others. You may be okay singing about your kinks in front of the world, but I will not be caught showing physical affection in front of your mum.”

The seriousness of her scolding makes him chuckle.

“You’re adorable.” Harry pinches Charlie’s chin, provoking her to try and nip at his fingers. They settle back against each other with matching faint smiles on their lips. His arm is thrown over shoulders, his thumb gently stroking her cheek in a comfortable rhythm. “If it’s worth anything, I’m happy you’re here, as my lover, and I’m happy that Rory is here, and we three get to spend the holidays together. It’s tradition.”

“Tradition?” She turns to face him. “We’ve literally never done that. Rory only just existed last year.”

“Traditions have to start somewhere and this one is starting here on,” he checks his watch, “6.48pm, 25 December 2022.”

“Hmm. I guess I’ll see you this time next year, lover.”

Harry’s teeth clamp down tightly on his lower lip to try to contain the beam that wants to blossom across his face. Next year. She didn’t even flinch. Her voice didn’t waver.

They get called to the dining table to get ready for dinner before he gets a chance to slip too deep into his domestic daydream.

-

The last time Charlie was in Harry’s bed was when she was sixteen. It was the night before Harry’s audition and he had texted her in a panic, begging her to sneak over to help him fall asleep. She had nibbled through the skin of her bottom lip on the journey over, nervous at the prospect of sharing a bed with a boy, something she hadn’t done since Harry started having crushes on other girls. But all her reservations flew out the window the moment she saw her best friend’s red nose and teary eyes. Without saying anything other than an initial greeting, she crawled into bed next to Harry and let him rest his head on her shoulder and hug her arm to his chest as he fell asleep. He fell asleep almost instantly. But she was wide awake the whole night, eyes glued to the ceiling, brain running a thousand miles an hour as it tried to work out why her heart was racing the way it was.

This time, Charlie’s mind is racing but for a completely different reason.

“Stop looking at the door,” Harry whispers in the dark, “it’s locked. And mum’s not going to try and peep.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry. Come closer to me and try and fall asleep. Santa’s not going to come unless you fall asleep.”

“You are so annoying. I hate you.”

Her hand feels for him under the duvet then shuffles over until her legs can tangle with his. Unsatisfied, Harry rolls over and wraps his arms around her body, completely covering her, tucking his head into the crook of her neck, letting the tip of his nose graze her soft skin.

His warm breath tickles her when he whispers. “Are you going to be this nervous every time we stay over at mum’s?”

“I told you, I don’t know how to behave around your family now. When Anne let me stay over as kids, she trusted that you and I wouldn’t do anything … inappropriate. And now –“

“- oh we’re going to do something inappropriate?” he jokingly interrupts. “If we are, we should probably go to the living room because Rory is right there.”

That earns his hair a firm tug.

“Stop making fun of me. It’s Christmas, you are supposed to be nice.”

“I’m sorry. You’re cute. Okay, we won’t stay over next year. You can be as inappropriate as you’d like in your own bed.”

She tugs his hair again.

“Don’t worry, okay. Mum is definitely already asleep and she definitely knows that we are sharing a bed.”

Running out of retorts, they lay together in silence, bodies melting into each other under the heavy duvet. Charlie feels his breathing slow to a steady pace, but her mind is still buzzing with thoughts.

“H? Are you awake?”

“Hmm.”

“What if …” she trails off, fingers now scratching Harry’s scalp. “Were you serious when you said we’d spend Christmas together every year?”

“Mmhm.”

“What if you can’t make it back for Christmas. What if you’ve got to do Christmas shows?”

His reply is immediate and confident. “I won’t do them. Or I’ll fly you guys to wherever I have to be.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Yeah. That’ll be okay?” Harry props himself up onto his forearms to look his beloved in the eyes.

Under his attentive gaze, Charlie’s face grows hot. “Yeah. I’d like that. And I think Rory would like that too. She’s grown attached to you. Sometimes she’ll grab my phone and tap her little fist on the screen. I think that’s her way of asking for you.”

“Fuck. That’s the best thing I’ve heard all year.” He drops his head in glee, resting his forehead against her shoulder. “I’m away from her too much. Is it okay that I feel like that?”

“It is okay, more than okay. I know it’s been less than a year and I said we’d move slow, but it makes so much sense to me. When I think about Rory’s first day of school or her moving her to a big girl bed, I think about sharing those moments with you. Does that scare you?”

“No, I want it.”   

They find themselves wearing matching expressions again. All moony eyed and smiley.

Tired of just marveling at his beautiful face, Charlie slots her lips between his to kiss him soft and slow. “Merry Christmas, lover,” she whispers softly. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Harry leans down to press his nose against hers. “Merry Christmas. I can’t wait to make new traditions with the both of you, lover.”

[harrysfolklore]

putting the christmas tree with harry !!

this is my entry for @watchmegetobsessed’s fanficmas 2022 !! i hope you like it 💕

if you want exclusive blurbs and tropes SUBSCRIBE TO MY PATREON

ask me anything | masterlist | likes and reblogs are appreciated !

NAUGHTY LIST

The calendar marked that it was December the 19, and you and Harry still didn't have a single Christmas decoration up in your house.

To be fair, you just spent the past month travelling across South America for Harry's last shows of 2022, but now after a quick stop in Los Angeles, you were finally home in London.

So after complaining about how your house looked so sad and dragging Harry to the nearest store to buy some decorations and a tree, your plan of the evening that consisted on getting your house in the Christmas mood started.

"It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas, everywhere you go." you and Harry sang along to Michael Bublé's voice that played on the speakers.

"Oh Christmas songs, I am your slave." Harry said as he passed you a couple of ornaments to hang on the tree.

"Did you just quote your tweet from 2014?" You turned around to look at him with a small smile, he was wearing a red jumper with brown corduroy pants and everything about him looked cuddly.

You loved being home with him.

"I don't know, maybe," he shrugged before continuing, "Mum called, wants to know if we're still coming this weekend."

"Of course we are, Christmas with the Styles for the second year, I wouldn't miss that for anything." you happily said, over the two years you and Harry have been together, his family had become your second one, they received you with open arms last Christmas and made you feel like one of them.

"Remember how nervous you were last year?" a smile made its way to Harry's face as he remembered last year's Christmas, since you and Harry started dating during his 2021 tour, you only had the chance to meet his mum and sister once when they visited him for one of his shows in LA, and Christmas was going to be your second meeting.

"Give me a break, okay? It was my second time meeting your mom and I was going to crash in her house for the holidays, of course I was going to be nervous." you told him as you hung more ornaments and decorations in your tree, it was almost done and you were very happy with the results.

"And they ended up loving you, baby, just like I told you," he moved to stand behind you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, pressing a few kisses to the side of your face, making you lean into him "Tree looks good, we did a great job." he kissed the side of your face again, lingering his lips there for a minute.

"We? Harry I basically did all of that on my own while you sang Christmas songs the entire time." you playfully complained, turning around to face him and place your hands on his stomach, the material of his jumper soft in your hands.

"Heyyyy! That was mean!" he made his typical 'Heyyy' face, making you throw your head back as you laughed.

“I’m so happy to be spending the holidays with you again,” you ignored his complaints and decided to be soft for a minute. It was the perfect season for it, after all, “This year was just amazing, and I can't wait to see what next year has for us, if you'll still have me, of course."

"Baby! Of course I'll have you, I'm wrapped around your little finger and you know that," he kissed your nose sweetly, making you scrunch your face a little, "Besides, who's going to put up my tree next Christmas if you're not around? I'm going to turn into Scrooge!" you rolled your eyes with affection before speaking.

"So that's the only reason why we're dating? Because I put together amazing Christmas trees?" you decided to play along with him.

"That and your fantastic arse." he placed his hands in your bum making you squeal and laugh.

"Wish I could said that your arse is fantastic too but," he raised his brow, waiting for you to finish your sentence, "I was taught not to lie to others."

"Oh come on, my arse is spectacular and you know it," you laughed at his antics again, he could be such a man-child sometimes, "You're being so mean to me today, I might have to do something about it."

"Yeah? Like what?" it was your turn to raise your brow and tilt your head, waiting for his answer.

"I'm putting you on my naughty list." he grabbed you by the hips, making your chest collide with his, you instantly moved your hands to place them on his neck.

"You have a naughty list? Who else is there?" your eyes moved to his lips for a moment, dying to taste the red wine he had been drinking from them.

"Just you, actually." he smirked and finally kissed your lips, happiness filling both of you to be home for the holidays.

taglist: @cucciolafaerie @eleanordaisy @sunflowersndpeaches @golden-hoax @alienorknight @daydreamingofmatilda @sunflowervolume66 @vanteguccir @ivyproblems @ayeshathestyles @stylesmygucci @gimsaysay @rosaliedepp @dontworrysunflower @milfrrynation @manifestrry @iceebabies @harrystylesrecs @pleasingrryyy @harianaswhore @leadmetogarden @abeanontoast @grapejuice-rry @vrittivsanghavi @msolbesg @tati813 @sad1esgf @ivegotparticulartaste @eviesaurusrex @itsgabbysblog @theekyliepage @gumballavocadoharry @watermelonsugacry @be-with-me-so-happily @a-strange-familiar @reveriehs @musicforcinemas @harrybabyyyyyyy @tinydeskwriter @noooovaaaaa @tenaciousperfectionunknown @mxltifxnd0m @rach2602 @balletdancerry @b-reads-things @juiceboxrry @lomlolivia @itsgigikay

[finelinevogue]

Hey so about fanficmas-its basically where you write festive blurbs towards the end of November and December I guess and there are a list of prompts based on which you can write those I tried to put in the link but it wouldn't let me , so for more info search for watchmegetobsessed on Tumblr. She is the one who started this I think. Sorry for the long rant lmao 🤍

ohhh amazing! no you weren’t ranting at all! you were helping out a lost soul like me😭😭 thank you xxx

[twostepstyless]

lovie don’t stress yourself out by overworking yourself! we’ll love whatever you write, whenever you write it. let yourself rest for an hour with a cuppa tea and a few biscuits, before going back to it! don’t give yourself burnout :(( xxxx

Ah my angel :( I needed this tonight, was so close to being on time, only a short 9 minutes late, it is what it is lmao! Thank you for this beautiful <3 I’m now off to read day 1 of your fanficmas! I’ve been saving it since it was posted to read after I got mine finished tonight, lots of love to you, precious xxx

[tbyfandoms]

White Christmas | Shawn Mendes x Reader

Pairing: shawn mendes x f!reader

Word Count: 5.7k

Summary: in preparation for christmas eve dinner with shawn’s family, y/n makes her famous christmas cookies. when shawn offers to help it leads to a mix of ingredients y/n wasn’t quite expecting and a night full of memories

Warnings: swearing

Masterlist | Ask/Tell/Request

A/N: hi everyone! i wanted to write this story in honor of @watchmegetobsessed ‘s #fanficmas2021! i’ll be using the prompt “when i said i want a white christmas, this wasn’t what i had in mind.” i read that prompt and immediately thought of this idea so i hope you all like it as much as i do and it gets you into a festive holiday spirit! the execution of the plot and ending probably could’ve been better, but i’m still proud of it and think it’s sickeningly cute. finally, merry christmas eve, i hope you all have a wonderful holiday (if you celebrate), and that it’s full of so much love and happiness <3. enjoy the story and lmk what you think! :)

The smell of holiday candles wafted through the air as you made your way through the living room. What was it; cinnamon? Nutmeg? Some sort of spice only found in candles during the holidays? Whatever it is, it’s wonderful and making the condo feel and smell warm and cozy.

Shawn always went a little overboard with the candles he placed around the condo, but you loved it, loved the way it made him so happy and relaxed. Considering all he goes through, you figure the least this man deserves is a space where he feels safe and at ease. Even if that does mean spending fifteen minutes trying to light a bunch of Christmas candles.

As you put away the lighter you had been using, Shawn walks out from the bedroom and makes his way into the kitchen with you. You smile at the sight of him; red sweater, jeans, fluffy hair, and eyes sparkling from the city lights outside mixed with the holiday ones strung up around your home. A perfect sight you could say.

“Hey, baby, how’s it going?” Shawn asks as he makes his way over to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

“Good, I just finished lighting the fifty candles you have out,” you tease. Shawn groans and nuzzles his nose into the top of your head.

“Whatever, you know you love them,” he hums. “They make all the decorations come together. It’s one thing to see the holiday spirit, but it’s another to smell it in the air as well.”

“I’m going to have to agree with you on that one, Mendes,” you reply.

Turning slightly in Shawn’s arms, you gaze around the condo, taking in the sight of everything. It all looks so beautiful, and Shawn isn’t wrong about the candles helping to really tie everything in. It really feels like being in a winter wonderland when you step inside the front door.

You and Shawn had decided to go all out this year. After everything that happened last year with the height of the pandemic and not being able to have the Christmas you all hoped for, you decided this year you’d do everything you could to make it as best as possible. Shawn’s family was coming over for Christmas Eve dinner and the both of you couldn’t be more excited. Family gatherings were far and few between with all the constant restrictions and fears of getting sick, so being able to finally spend this time together is really all you could ask for.

Shawn’s family would be here soon, so you’re just making all the finishing touches. You and Shawn had somehow put together a wonderful meal, all your favorites and then some. It was a miracle considering when you and Shawn are together in the kitchen, there’s always some sort of disaster. The two of you have too much fun and constantly lose track of time, leading to burnt dishes or forgotten ingredients. It truly is a Christmas miracle the food made it’s way from the kitchen to the dining area without a hitch.

“Is there anything left to do?” Shawn questions, unwrapping his arms from around you.

“Just one more thing,” you reply before opening up a few cabinets. “The Christmas cookies!”

“Ooo that’s right! Your famous Christmas cookies,” he chuckles as he watches you get all the ingredients you need.

“I don’t know if I would count the recipe I found online and have used the past four years as famous, but okay,” you giggle, setting out measuring cups and mixing bowls.

“According to Aaliyah they are. I swear she’s brought them up more times than I can count this past week,” Shawn says, shaking his head. “She’s so excited for them considering she wasn’t able to get some last year.”

“Well i’ll have to make her extra to take home. I couldn’t possibly let my favorite girl go without them any longer, now could I?” Shawn rolls his eyes while you laugh. The bond you and Aaliyah have is special, and you’re grateful to be able to connect with Shawn’s family so well.

“I guess not,” Shawn replies. He looks around at everything you’ve placed on the kitchen island and he reaches out to pick up a few of the cookie cutters you set out. “Do you want some help making them?”

You turn around and face Shawn, staring at him curiously.

“You wanna help me make the cookies?”

“Yeah! You’ve always made them on your own and I think it’d be fun if we did it together this time. I wanna continue to make as many memories with you as possible,” Shawn smiles fondly at you and you can’t help the fluttering of your heart as you take in his statement. He really is the sweetest guy in the world.

“Of course you can help me, love. Thank you for offering,” you say as you make your way over to Shawn and plant a small kiss on his cheek.

Taking his hand, you lead Shawn over to the other side of the kitchen island where all the materials are laid out. Shawn picks up some of the measuring cups and turns to face you.

"Where do I start?" He questions. You smile and push a couple of different ingredients towards Shawn, thinking of the perfect job for him.

"Since I make the cookies from scratch, how about I read off the recipe and you help me measure out the different ingredients," you say. Shawn nods his head and begins to open up the bags of flour and sugar.

"Alright, sounds good. Let's do this!" he exclaims.

Watching as Shawn starts to separate all of the measuring cups, ready and waiting for your instructions, you scoot a little closer to him.

"Hey if you do good I might even let you lick the spoon when we're done with it," you tease, nibbling on your bottom lip to try and stifle your laugh.

"Hmm, sounds intriguing," Shawn hums, tilting his head so his lips graze against your ear. "But I think I'd like something a little sweeter."

As you feel your cheeks heat up, Shawn moves his head away from your ear and brings his lips down onto yours. Even though Shawn made you flustered, you're able to revel in the taste of him, kissing back immediately.

After a minute Shawn pulls back and your eyes flutter open, you’re left feeling like you’re floating. No matter how many times it happens, every kiss with Shawn still feels like your first in the best way possible.

“So, shall we?” The tiniest of smirks pulls at the corner of Shawn’s lips as he tilts his head towards you, finding humor in the fact he can still sweep you off your feet.

“Absolutely,” you reply, shaking out of you lovesick trance. God this man has such a hold on you. You love him nonetheless.

Rummaging through the pile of ingredients, you find the recipe and begin baking with your boyfriend, ready to make more of those Christmas memories with him.

*****

“Baby it’s cold outside!” You and Shawn finish off the song as best you can, your harmonies not quite matching up together, but it’s perfect to you both anyways.

Shawn suggested turning on the music about halfway through the cookie preparation, after you both had really started getting into things. You thought that was a great idea and you’ve been singing different holiday songs ever since. Your favorite had been the one just before Baby It’s Cold Outside, it was All I Want For Christmas Is You by Mariah Carey. You and Shawn had been trying to hit the high notes but every time you would both start laughing while you danced around the kitchen. It was a sight to see (and hear), you’re sure.

Now, you’re deciding on all the cookie cutter shapes you want to use. There is so many to choose from and you typically only used a few of them each year, but you figured you’d use way more this year considering you didn’t get to make hardly any last year since it was just you and Shawn. You’ve already decided on using the tree, reindeer, santa, snowflake, and snowman ones, you just wanted one more.

“Y/N, look,” Shawn says, reaching his hand out and picking up a cookie cutter from the pile. “Let’s do the gingerbread one, that way when we decorate them we can make them look like us.”

You laugh and nod your head in response, you’d love to see how that turns out.

“Okay, I love that idea. Let’s do it!”

Shawn places the gingerbread shape with the rest of your choices, taking the unused ones and putting them away so you both have more room to work.

You grab some flour from the bag you set out earlier, and begin to lightly dust the dough with it. It’s the worst to have the dough get stuck to the counter because then you won’t be able to pick it up and put it on the tray without it breaking.

After spreading some flour on the counter as well, you lay out the dough and grab the rolling pin. You hold the pin in your hands as you take a second to look from the dough, to shawn, and then back again.

“Here, Mr. Muscles,” you say as you hold out the rolling pin to your boyfriend. “Now that you’re helping me, you can have the absolute honor of rolling out the dough.”

It’s not that you can’t roll out the dough on your own, you’ve been doing it just fine these last few years, but having Shawn do it just sounds so much better.

“Oh thanks so much, baby, I’m so grateful to be doing this,” Shawn replies sarcastically as he grabs the tool from your hands.

You giggle at Shawn’s response and shake your head. Shawn begins to roll out the dough and you lean on the counter as you watch him perform the task. All he’s doing is rolling out cookie dough but wow, you think, is this man dreamy.

*****

“Y/N, you can’t tell me this doesn’t look just like you!” Shawn laughs as he holds out the gingerbread cookie to you. “You guys are practically twins.”

“Please, I don’t look like that even on my worst day!” You laugh and roll your eyes at Shawn’s poor attempt to make the gingerbread look like you.

“Oh okay, because yours looks so much like me,” Shawn retorts, pointing at the cookie you are currently trying to make look like him as best as possible.

“Hey! Mine looks so good, I even drew on your tattoos!” You smile looking down at cookie Shawn, content with the cute designs you drew on it’s arms with the black icing.

“Babe, I know it can’t be just me that think’s the guitar tattoo looks a little…odd,” Shawn holds back his laugh while staring at the icing tattoo, feeling grateful his actual tattoo doesn’t look like that.

“It’s not my fault the cookie arms are so short and small!” You reply, feeling your cheeks heat up, knowing exactly what Shawn’s getting at. “I only had so much room to work with.”

Shawn giggles and moves closer to you, planting a kiss on the side of your head.

“It’s okay, I think they look great and I love them both,” he says as you look up at him. You give Shawn a small smile as you nod your head in agreeance.

“And I love you,” you whisper, staring up at the man you’ve been so grateful to be with these past few years. He’s everything and more you could ask for and no matter what you wouldn’t trade this relationship for the world.

“I love you so much more, my love,” Shawn grins.

“If you say so.”

Shawn leans in and connects his lips with yours, the taste of sugar still on his lips from when you let him lick the spoon earlier. The memory of it makes you smile into the kiss.

You both pull back and stare at each other fondly for a second before returning to the cookies in front of you. Teasing aside, they all do look really good and the both of you are happy with how they all turned out. The only cookies left to be put on the plate are the two gingerbread versions of you and Shawn, you had left decorating those for last.

Each of you grab the gingerbread you had been decorating and set them lightly on the plate, not wanting to risk breaking one. Stepping back, you lightly squeal with excitement, completely happy with how the cookies turned out. The fact you and Shawn made them together makes it even better.

“Well, i’d say we’re finished! Thank you for helping me, i’m proud of us,” you say to Shawn, looking over everything you’ve accomplished tonight; dinner and desert.

“You’re welcome, baby. I’m proud of us too,” Shawn agrees.

“Let’s clean everything up and by the time we’re done your parents and sister should be here.” Shawn hums in agreement before taking some of the utensils used and putting them in the sink. You start to close up different bags of ingredients and throw away the extra stuff you didn’t use but aren’t able to keep.

While pushing the plate of cookies forward so you can have room to wipe off the counter, you feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn towards Shawn and look at him questioningly, not sure what he needs.

“You have some flour on your face,” he says, causing you to instantly use your shoulder to try and wipe it off.

“Where is it?” You ask, seeing as the powder didn’t appear on your top after rubbing your cheek on it.

“Right here.” Before you can process what’s happening, Shawn reaches forward and smears flour on the side of your face. Your mouth hangs open in shock as you take a step back and watch as powder particles drift from your face onto the kitchen floor.

“You did not just do that!” You exclaim as you use the back of your hand to try and wipe off some of the flour. Shawn’s laugh fills your ears and you can’t help but want to laugh as well, but stand your ground as you walk closer to him. “You think that’s funny, huh?”

“Mhm,” Shawn smirks as he crosses his arms in front of his chest.

“Oh okay. Well so is this.” You quickly reach to your side and scoop up the flour that’s still laying on the counter, and then throw it in Shawn’s face. His eyes immediately flutter close and his nose scrunches up, causing you to burst out laughing at the sight.

“You’re gonna pay for that, Y/L/N,” Shawn grumbles as he reaches for the bag of flour. The bag tips over and a puff of white goes up into the air, some of the flour spilling out onto the counter. Shawn grabs a handful of it before starting to throw it at you in tiny pinches. It doesn’t hurt, but you can still feel the powdery substance against your skin, causing you to shriek and giggle at the feeling.

Swiftly grabbing your own handful of flour, you start to return fire on Shawn. You watch as the curls atop his head bounce from side to side as he tries to dodge your throws, and how his smile is visible even through the clouds of kitchen ingredients being thrown about.

The only sounds heard throughout the condo are laughs, shrieks, and holiday music still playing in the background. Somehow, they’re sounds you never want to forget about. Sounds filled with love and happiness, even if you’re currently throwing flour at your boyfriend.

You start to run low on ammo so you try to reach for the bag of flour but Shawn comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you, dragging you back and away from the bag. You try to wiggle out of his arms, but fail as you can’t stop laughing and Shawn’s strong grip doesn’t seem to let up.

“No more! Please! Truce, truce! I’m sorry, I surrender!” Shawn begs. He shakes his head to try and get some of the flour off and takes a big breath in before wincing. “I think i got some in my nose.”

The both of you laugh and Shawn releases you from his grasp, allowing you space to take everything in. You take a second to look over the kitchen and your laughing quickly fades to nothing. The counters and floors are completely covered in flour, everything now having a layer of white powder over it.

This is exactly why you and Shawn can never be trusted in the kitchen together. It looks as if a snowstorm happened inside your kitchen.

“Shawn,” it comes out as almost a whisper, the disbelief evident in your voice. “When I said ‘I want a white Christmas,’ this wasn’t what I had in mind.”

You think back to a few days ago when you and Shawn had been talking about Christmas wishes. You hoped it would snow all night Christmas Eve so you’d wake up to a perfect white Christmas. Needless to say this isn’t the kind you were hoping for.

Shawn let’s out a breathy laugh, not believing the fact you guys made such a mess in so little time. This isn’t going to be fun to clean up, and it’s definitely going to take a while…

A gasp escapes Shawn’s lips followed by an ‘oh shit!’

Your head whips towards him and you can see the anxiety begin to consume him.

“My parents and sister are gonna be here any minute!” The color drains from your face as the realization hits you as well. How could it slip your mind!? It’s the whole reason you and Shawn were even baking in the first place!

“I’ll go get the vacuum, you start to clean the counters!” You rush out of the kitchen before Shawn even gets a chance to respond. You’re down the hall and back within seconds and you immediately start to rid the floor of flour with the vacuum as Shawn wipes furiously at the counters.

Sneaking a glance at Shawn as you move back and forth with the vacuum, you notice how his head and chest are almost completely covered in flour. You don’t even want to think about what you must look like right now.

Shawn moves side to side from the sink to the kitchen island, trying not to trip over the vacuum as you frantically move back and forth, cleaning up as much of the flour off the floor as possible. You can’t believe you let that whole flour fight go so far, sure it was fun but definitely not something you should have done before expecting company. It’s surely something you’re going to look back on both fondly and stressfully.

A loud buzzer rings out around the condo and you and Shawn stop dead in your tracks at the sound of it.

“They’re here!” You squeak, immediately stopping the vacuum. It isn’t perfect but it’ll do. At least the floor doesn’t look like it’s completely covered in snow anymore.

“It’s okay, i’ll go push the button to let them into the building and then finish up here. It’ll take them a few minutes to get up here anyways. You go clean up.” You nod your head and hastily go and put away the vacuum before running back to your shared bedroom.

As you stand in the bathroom you can’t help but gasp at your reflection in the mirror. The flour war may not have lasted long, but it was long enough to leave you looking like a complete mess.

Flour particles cover your top and white streaks run across each side of your face. Instead of wasting time trying to wipe off the flour on your clothes, you change tops immediately. You run a brush through your hair and use wipes to get rid of the flour on your face. Somehow, it doesn’t look awful and your satisfied with the new look. It’ll have to do because it’s not like you have time to do anything else anyways.

Rushing back to the kitchen, you notice Shawn wiping at the plate of cookies and your heart instantly sinks.

“What’s wrong? Are the cookies ruined?” Shawn looks up at you and shakes his head, tossing the rag he was using to the side.

“No, they’re find. There was just some flour on the plate but I got it off, no worries.” You let out a sigh of relief and make your way towards Shawn. You reach out to hug him but step back immediately, realizing he’s still completely covered in flour.

“Shawn! You still have flour all over you!” Shawn’s eyes go wide and he looks down at his sweater and reaches his hand up to touch his face. He was so focused on cleaning he didn’t realize he still had to clean himself up too!

A round of knocks is heard and yours and Shawn’s heads both turn towards the door. You begin to walk towards it slowly, stopping for a second to look back at your boyfriend.

“Go clean up, it’s fine i’ll just tell them you’re in the bathroom or something.” Shawn nods his head and is gone in an instant. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if Shawn’s family knew what happened, but it’s not like you want them coming in to see the kitchen in complete shambles and you and Shawn looking like you rolled around in white powder. Not a good look after not being able to see them for so long.

Grasping the handle on the door, you look back towards the bedroom, hoping Shawn will be out here soon. You know how much this means to him and his family, you don’t want him to miss a second of it if he doesn’t have to.

You open the door and a smile is instantly plastered onto your face at the sight of the family in front of you. Although you’d been able to visit Shawn’s family here and there, it wasn’t the same like it used to be. With the restrictions, quarantines, and conflicting schedules it made it seem like all of you hadn’t been able to spend any time together at all. This time with them, being able to just sit down and enjoy each other’s company, means the world.

“Y/N!” Karen exclaims as she wraps you in her arms. “It’s so good to see you, love.” The happy tears spring to your eyes before you’re even able to process everything, but you’re able to hold them back as you embrace Shawn’s mom.

“It’s so good to see you guys as well! I missed you all so much,” you say, taking a step back so they can all come inside. Karen moves to the side a bit so Manny can step in and greet you.

“We missed you too, it feels like it’s been so long,” Manny sighs as he hugs you and rubs a comforting hand up and down your back. “It’s so great to be able to celebrate together, all five of us!”

You smile and nod your head in agreement, turning to greet the last Mendes.

“And of course I can’t forget about my favorite girl!” Aaliyah squeals and jumps into your arms, causing the both of you to laugh and stumble back from the door.

“I missed you, Y/N! I’m so excited to see you! You’ve gotta fill me in on everything!” Aaliyah leans in closer to you, pretending to whisper and look suspicious. “Including any embarrassing things my brother has done.”

The both of you burst out laughing again, even Karen and Manny join in. You shake your head at the girl, not surprised at all by her request.

“Speaking of your brother, where is that son of mine?” Karen questions as you all start to make your way around the corner and into the dining room.

“Oh he’s-“

“I’m right here, Mom,” Shawn says, saving you from having to make up an excuse. You look up and see Shawn leaning against the kitchen island, arms crossed, and looking perfect as ever. You’ll truly never understand how guys get ready so fast.

Shawn’s family make their way over to him and they all greet and embrace him. You smile at the sight, feeling so grateful you get to know such a loving family.

Karen, Manny, and Aaliyah all make their way to the living room, setting down their things and putting presents under the tree. You move towards Shawn, wrapping your arms around him from the side.

“You clean up nice, Mendes,” you tease, taking a look at not only Shawn himself, but also at the kitchen. It looks like the flour fight never even happened. There’s a spot here and there but it’s normal for having cooked and baked all day. Everything turned out wonderful, at least you hope it did.

“What can I say? I do my best,” Shawn replies, smirking down at you. You roll your eyes and pat his chest before moving back from him.

“Sure you do, baby.” The both of you chuckle before Shawn reaches out and grabs your hand. “Let’s go have a nice time with your family.”

You begin to lead Shawn towards the dining table, but the soft pull of your hand makes you stop and turn back towards him.

“Our family,” he says as he stares at you fondly. Those same tears from earlier seem to make their way back to you, leaving your eyes brimmed with them as they threaten to spill over.

“Our family,” you whisper in return, your heart feeling full at the fact Shawn and his family consider you part of theirs. They truly are some of the kindest people you have ever had the pleasure of meeting.

“C’mon, let’s eat,” Shawn says before taking the lead and pulling you towards the dining table. Shawn’s parents and sister join you and soon you’re all sitting down, ready to dive into all the delicious food.

*****

Dinner went wonderfully. It consisted of good food, laughs, stories, and a whole lot of off-key singing as the holiday music continued on in the background. Shawn helped you clear everyone’s plates and store the leftover food, so now you’re all sitting at the table having drinks and enjoying each other’s company before you eventually head to the living room.

Every person at the table can be seen with a smile on their face, each of you enjoying your time to the fullest. Even as the chatter begins to die down, everyone feeling full after eating, there continues to be a quick remark here and there, someone remembering a story they wanted to share or a joke they wanted to tell. Every topic and remembrance of something else to share is welcomed, no one wanting to give up this special time just yet.

After a few more minutes of letting everyone’s food settle, you excuse yourself and make you way to the kitchen. You reach over the counter and grab the large plate of cookies you and Shawn had made, excited to share them with everyone.

“Are those what I think they are?” Aaliyah asks as she watches you walk back over to the table. You nod your head as you set the plate down in the middle of the table.

“Homemade Christmas cookies, brought to you by some recipe I found a long time ago, me, and surprisingly; Shawn.” You glance at Shawn and smile when you catch his eye, still loving the fact he helped you make them and that it ended in a war in the kitchen.

“Oh god, Shawn helped?” Aaliyah grimaces as she picks up one of the cookies shaped as a Christmas tree. “Suddenly I don’t want a cookie.”

“Hey! I’m a good baker! You haven’t even tried them yet,” Shawn slumps in his chair and you can’t help but giggle at him. Aaliyah just rolls her eyes jokingly before examining the cookie further.

“Did you guys put powdered sugar on them?” Aaliyah asks as she takes a bite out of the cookie.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, knowing for a fact you didn’t. There’s frosting on the cookies, the kind that dries solid, so that’s plenty sugar as it is. You reach over and grab one of the other cookies to see what she’s talking about and you nearly gasp at what you find.

“Shawn!” You whisper as you hold the cookie out in front of him. You look over and see Aaliyah’s talking to Manny and Karen, all of them oblivious to what you’re saying to Shawn. “There’s flour on the cookies! I thought you said they were fine when you were cleaning?”

Shawn takes the cookie from your hand and groans when he notices the white specks across it.

“Sorry! I thought they were. I only noticed the flour on the plate, I didn’t realize some of it got on the actual cookies.” Shawn leans forward and grabs the plate, wanting to see if all of the cookies are like that.

“Look, it’s just the few that were exposed on top.” He grabs one of the clean napkins and begins to brush off the specks of flour on top of each affected cookie. “See? All good.”

Shawn places the plate back in the middle of the table and smiles as his mom and dad each take one. He grabs the two gingerbread versions of the both of you and hands the one you made of him to you, while he keeps the one he made of you.

“So, baby sis, how do you like the cookies?” Shawn smirks as he awaits Aaliyah’s reply, so sure she’s going to think they’re wonderful and take back her remark about Shawn probably ruining them.

“Eh, they’re okay and that’s only because Y/N took part in making them, if it was just you they’d be awful,” Aaliyah laughs and you join in as you watch Shawn pout and slump in his chair yet again. “Really though they are good, I feel like I can taste some flour though…”

You shake your head and narrow your eyes at Shawn. “You can thank your brother for that one. Let’s just say we had a little mishap with the flour in the process of finishing the cookies.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Aaliyah tilts her head as she looks at the both of you and everyone starts laughing, Shawn’s cheeks turning a rosy color in the midst of it.

Aaliyah, Karen, and Manny get up and head to the living room, ready to wind down and exchange gifts. You go to join them but Shawn quickly reaches for your arm before you can get far.

“Wait, we have to take a bite out of cookie us,” he says, picking up the version of you he made. You laugh at his way of putting it but nod your head in agreement. After all the drama in the kitchen earlier, the least you can do is try one of the cookies that started it all.

You take a bite out of cookie Shawn’s arm, the one with the questionable guitar tattoo on it, and Shawn takes a bite out of cookie you’s leg. You hum in delight at the taste. Not bad, you think.

“You taste pretty good,” Shawn mumbles against your ear before nudging his nose against the side of your head, letting out a small chuckle.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you reply, feeling a little bit of warmth in your cheeks due to Shawn’s joke.

The both of you set down your cookies and then wipe your hands off on your napkins. You turn towards Shawn and give him a soft smile as he reaches out and tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear. He leans down and captures your lips in a sweet kiss, the taste of the cookie still fresh on his lips.

Shawn pulls back and wraps you in his arms, holding you close as you both look over at his parents and sister, watching as Manny says something that makes his wife and daughter laugh hysterically.

“Thank you for everything tonight, Y/N. For cooking and baking and getting the condo ready. Especially for being so open to my parents and sister year after year. You don’t know how much all of it means to me,” Shawn says.

“You don’t have to thank me, baby. We did all of it together, and if anyone should be thanking someone it’s me thanking you. You and this family are the best thing that’s ever happened to me and i’m so happy you’ve all let me be a part of it.” You lightly squeeze Shawn in appreciation, feeling emotional over his comment.

“I love you so much, pretty girl.” Shawn mumbles into your hair. You smile at the feeling and nickname before looking up at him.

“I love you too, Shawn.”

Shawn leans in and gives you a kiss on the forehead, instantly leaving behind a feeling of warmth and love.

“Hey, lovebirds come check it out! It’s snowing!” Aaliyah’s voice cuts through the trance you and Shawn seem to be in, and you turn to look over at her. She’s standing by the large glass windows in the living room and although it’s a little hard to see, it’s clear snow has started to fall outside.

You watch in awe as the snow outside mixes with the lights of the surrounding buildings, everything looking like starlight. The city at night is one of yours and Shawn’s favorite sights and is why you both love the view from the condo so much. Everything always looks so incredible from up here.

“I guess you’ll get your true white Christmas after all,” Shawn says as he watches you stare out at the city, knowing how much you had hoped for this and how excited you must be.

“I guess so,” you reply, turning back to face your boyfriend.

Shawn holds out his hand for you and you gladly take it, allowing him to lead you into the living room, ready to continue the night with your family.

[lady-annie-bee]

Day 2- College Au

Zutara

College au!

Katara was having what you might call "a bad day."

She could've sworn that she set her alarm for six-thirty, yet when she looked at her phone when she woke up, it was seven-fifty. Her class started in ten minutes.

When she walked out the door, with her hair not even brushed, in leggings and a sweatshirt (she was pretty sure she slept in this, it was vastly different to her usually immaculate appearance) and saw how hard it was raining, she debated whether college was really worth it. Was this eight am anatomy lecture really worth the hassle? The stress? Professor Pakku liked to give her a hard time, he had even docked participation points from her grade for not being well dressed. Nearly every time Katara had his class, he would find some reason to pick on her or demean her.

Maybe this thunderstorm was a sign, maybe she really wasn't fit for higher education. She could probably make it as a dancer...

"No, Katara!" She frowned at the thought of Pakku winning. "You are going to go to class in your pajamas and Pakku can just deal with it! Who cares what he thinks!"

When Katara finally walked into class, it was eight-thirty. She was soaked to the bone. She could feel nearly everyone's eyes on her, she just scowled and calmly made her way to her seat. She shot a heated glare at Pakku, just daring him to say something.

It was inevitable really. Not even the second coming could bring them out of their argument.

From all around the classroom, students looked at Katara like she was crazy for arguing with a teacher like that. Maybe she was. But there was one student a few rows behind her who looked at Katara with awe instead.

***

Walking out of the classroom, red in the face from arguing, Katara brought her phone out and called Sokka. She held it to her ear only to find out that Sokka had his phone off, as usual. Katara growled and left him a vaguely threatening voicemail.

If he was an engineer, surely Sokka could figure out how the on button worked...

Katara was pulled from her thoughts by a steaming latte. Her eyes followed  the arm up to the face it belonged to. A blushing Prince Zuko. The nickname was from when his sister forced him to do the musical production where he played a prince; for some reason, the nickname stuck.

"Uh, hello. Zuko here, I uh, saw that you looked pretty upset. So I got you a latte," Zuko's eyes widened, struck in realization, "I really hope you like lattes," he said in a rush.

Katara blinked. She was left speechless, which, believe her, did not happen often.

"Oh! Uh, thank you! I actually love lattes, so you're good. You really didn't need to do this though! Really, I get so riled up after each class of his. This is nothing new," she smiled at him.

"OK well, I have two coffees and can't drink both of them so..."

Katara laughed, "Well, can't say no to free stuff."

"Definently not," Zuko agreed. "What kind of college kid would you be?"

"Ugh, don't remind me. Every time I wake up for Pakku's stupid lecture, I wonder if I'm really cut out for this," Katara looked down at her latte.

"That's rough, buddy..."

"But then I remember that I can't let him win and I get in my car, ready for a fight." She clenched her unoccupied fist to punctuate her point.

"Spite, huh? Me too, my father would hate that I'm in criminology, but that's what fuels me to keep doing it," Zuko looked angry for a second.

"Your father...?" Katara could somewhat relate, as a war hero and amputee, he was what made her want to go into nursing.

"We don't really get along. Anyway, enjoy your latte, I gotta get to forensics." Zuko awkwardly waved her good bye.

Katara quickly realized that she needed to sign up for clinicals to get the times she wanted.

***

The next eight am lecture, Katara opted to sit beside Zuko. Her five page essay stapled and neatly tucked in her folder, she worked all week on it and was sure that it was just about perfect. Zuko on the other hand...

"You wrote it last night, didn't you?" Katara asked, though it was more a statement than a question.

She took in his disheveled hair, tired eyes, and rumpled papers. On his desk sat a Red Bull and an empty coffee tervis. He nodded at her.

"In other news, I will probably have a heart attack today," he said, as if saying the weather. "I haven't slept in two days, I have so much work to do. Caffiene is my blood right now."

Katara stared at him for a second, hoping he was joking, "Zuko, you need sleep, if you don't sleep for another day you'll start hallucinating."

"I'll sleep eventually, probably. But homework isn't the only reason I can't sleep."

Katara raised her eyebrow at him, and eyed the door. Pakku would be walking in any moment now.

"I couldn't sleep because I told myself that I was going to ask you out the other day but I chickened out last minute."

Face red for a completely different reason than usual, Katara opened her mouth to say something, or just gape. She wasn't sure. She was sure that if her mouth was open long enough words would start coming out on their own. Katara didn't speak fast enough, almost as soon as she processed what he said, Pakku walked in.

"Alright eveyone, pass your essays in. Stop gaping Katara, you knew it was coming."

Katara's mouth shut. If she said something now, everyone would hear it, she internally cursed Zuko for not saying something sooner. She looked at him from the corner of her eye, he looked completely complacent. As if he didn't realize the weight of his words.

She whispered to him, over the sound of shuffling papers, "We're going to talk about this later."

During the lecture, Katara could not focus. Something about the intricacies of the nervous system was not nearly as interesting as thinking about Zuko and his exhaustion enduced confession. Was it a confession, though? He just said that he had wanted to ask her out, it's not like he was claiming to have fallen in love with her...

Katara came back down to Earth when Pakku glared at her. If she didn't pay attention soon, he'll start calling her out. No matter that she had the highest grade in the class-

A small piece of scratch paper on her desk came to her attention.

'Dinner?' It said.

Katara smiled at it and wrote a response, and placed it back on his desk.

'It's a date!'

"Katara! Is my lecture so boring to you that you feel the need to entertain yourself like a middleschooler, passing notes?"

Surprising even herself, Katara said, "Sorry professor, but some of my classmates didn't understand what you were saying, seems like it's time for you to retire afterall. Your old age is clearly getting to you and your ability to teach."

"Why you....!" Pakku went red with anger, another shouting match was about to begin.

Say what you want about this class, but it certainly was interesting.

***

"How do you get away with fighting with old man Pakku all the time, anyway?" Zuko asked, looking dashing for the dinner.

"Oh, well he's technically my grandfather."

"Oh OK... Wait, what?!"

[cutsorcuddles]

snowfall; an oddlita fic

Hello everyone! As I’d mentioned before, I made a little challenge for myself in trying this thing called the 12 days of fanficmas, where I post a one shot every day leading up until Christmas. This is day one! I am going to be having surgery next week so I’ll try to queue some stuff up for when I’m not online, but I may end up not having something for every single day. Anyway, here’s day one!

Creepy as he felt, Odd found himself glued to the spot. He heard the quiet whir of the vending machines behind him, feeling the slight warmth on the back of his neck from the vents. Before him he watched the snow fall, like little white bugs dancing in the wind. It wasn’t a very romantic thought, but Odd had never been the best at romance. He was good at the game that middle and high schoolers liked to play, but that wasn’t too useful to him now.

His eyes were on the bench, just on the other side of the field, and the two people sitting on it. They faced away from Odd, unaware of his presence, both laughing at whatever joke she was making. For a brief moment, Aelita covered her face with her pink mittens. Jeremie put his arm around her. She leaned into him, and Odd’s gaze shifted to the snowflakes again. They rested on the ends of her hair like sugar on strawberries. Jeremie whispered something in Aelita’s ear, and she smiled at him. God, that smile.

Now Odd definitely felt like a creep, watching two of his best friends have a moment – whatever that moment was, he wasn’t sure. His hands shuffled nervously behind his back, fingers playing with the ribbon wrapped around the small box he was holding. He shouldn’t have even bought the present in the first place, but it wasn’t the gift that was the problem. It was the note he’d written to accompany it that was eating away at him inside.

She’d probably appreciate the earrings. They were small pink gems of some sort that she had pointed out to Yumi excitedly on the day that the girls dragged Odd to the mall with them; Jeremie was busy with homework and Ulrich had martial arts practice. It took all the self-control in the world to not spill the real reason why he had asked Yumi to drive him back to the mall the next weekend. Odd was pretty sure she’d picked up on the reason anyway, though.

For weeks the earrings sat in a small box under Odd’s bed. Ulrich never bothered to snoop around Odd’s side of the room, even when he went on one of his sprees where he would clean everything in the room and then leave it alone for a couple of months before it happened again. Ulrich had found one too many year-old half-eaten bags of chips or slobbery Kiwi toys in the years they lived together so now he left Odd’s bed alone.

It wasn’t that Odd didn’t want anyone to know, like it was some atrocious secret that could get him kicked out of the friend group; he just didn’t want to cause unnecessary drama. After all, Jeremie and Aelita were two of his best friends, and he made her so happy. Hell, Jeremie was the reason Aelita was even here in the first place. Odd didn’t want to cause any rifts. And of course, all of that sounded completely logical in his head, until she came into view. He wasn’t sure if it was something that had grown in the past three years since she stepped foot on this earth, or something that emerged when he’d realized they only had a year and a half of school left before they all went their separate ways.

But now, he couldn’t stop paying attention. The way her nose crinkled when she laughed, or stuck her tongue out ever so slightly when doing physics homework, or the intense look of concentration she got when it came to music. That was probably when he liked to be around her most. He loved when she laughed at his jokes or when they’d just sit outside of English class and make up stories about the random upperclassmen walking by. However, Aelita was the most, well, her, when she was with her music. She wouldn’t even remember Odd was in the room sometimes, mixing the same few seconds of a song, looking for the perfect combination of sound. Odd could watch her for hours. And he would, until she’d look up with an apologetic look and asked why he didn’t say something about the time passing. He’d respond that he didn’t notice it either. If he’d felt this way about any other girl (well, except maybe Yumi), this wouldn’t be an issue. But of course, it had to be her.

None of that had been stupid. He could avoid being impulsive in-person. What had been stupid was when he wrote down what he felt on a piece of paper the size of a post-it note. He hadn’t spilled his heart, of course. Odd had never been exactly good with words, even less so than romance. But still, he’d written that note, the pencil trembling, and then stuffed it into the box with the earrings before he could talk himself out of it.

 Aelita,

I have to say this because it’s literally eating me alive, but I think I like you. Ok no, I know I like you, but I know I shouldn’t. I’m not trying to do anything to sabotage your relationship. That’s the last thing I want. I just feel like you deserve to know.

Odd

 He had to ask Ulrich how to spell sabotage.

As if waking up from his thoughts by unexpected movement, Odd’s attention went back to the bench. He saw Jeremie lean in to whisper something in Aelita’s ear again. She nodded, and then the blonde stood up and stuffed his hands in his pockets as he walked away, hunched against the cold.

Odd took a step forward onto the snow, hands still behind his back. He squinted against the wind, and saw that Aelita hadn’t moved from her spot on the bench, and she still hadn’t seen him. He could walk away like nothing had happened, unwrap the present, take the note out, rewrap it, and make things far less complicated for both of them.

Instead, he found himself walking closer to the bench.

“Hey, Aelita,” he called from a couple of yards away.

Aelita turned around to face him, grinning. “Hey, Odd.”

Odd dropped one hand to his side, holding the other out to her. The small red box reflected sunlight in a way that made it seem like a gem itself. He hoped that, if she noticed his hands shaking, she’d think it was from the cold.

“Merry Christmas.”

[watchmegetobsessed]

❄️HOME THIS CHRISTMAS❄️

A/N: hope you uys have been having an amazing christmas so far! for this fic i want to say special thanks to @futurecherry !

WORD COUNT: 5.6k

SUMMARY: Harry Styles is back in town and all eyes are on the two of you, because everyone knows how much he broke your heart when he left.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

This fic is part of ❄️ FANFICmas 2022 ❄️ Read more about fanficmas here!

You always thought the saying ‘talk of the town’ wasn’t real, not in the way movies loved to portray. The whispers behind someone’s back, the stares, the looks, it all seemed way too dramatic to be real. Right until you became the person it happened to.

December is by far your favorite time of the year. You hate to be a cliché, but it truly is the most wonderful time of the year. The town turns into a cozy winter wonderland, every shop and home is decorated, lights are guiding the way through the streets you know better than the back of your hand, the smell of mulled wine and hot chocolate puts a spell on you every time you walk past the square in front of the town hall, there is nothing that could ruin this time of the year for you.

Or so you thought. Because the returning of Harry Styles just made you the talk of the town and ruined the festive mood for sure.

Who would want to step out of the house just to see everyone looking at them with pitiful looks, whispering about the poor girl who now has to face the guy who broke her heart? No, that’s not even expressive enough to describe what Harry did to you when he left town five years ago, never even looking back to see the mess he left behind him.

Word spread across town fast when he was first spot at his mother’s house, picking up some old stuff of his. Mrs. Cromwell saw him through her kitchen window. She phoned Mrs. Adler who was just about to leave to the grocery store. She told the news to everyone she ran into and in a matter of hours everyone in town knew that Harry was back.

Including you.

It’s been a week since the first sighting and your life has turned upside down since then. Everyone wants to know what you think about his return, how you’re doing now that you can practically run into him anywhere and anytime.

Well, you’re already over that.

The first meeting went just as awkward as one would expect. He came into your bakery on a Tuesday afternoon, you were shocked to be face-to-face with him at first and he seemed just as speechless as he stared back at you while everyone else around you were dying for the scene to unfold.

When the two of you recovered, the conversation went something like this:

“What are you doing here?”

“I’ve moved back.”

“No, what are you doing in my bakery?”

“I came to see you.”

“But I don’t want to see you.”

“Can we talk? Please?”

“No.”

And with that, you rushed back and locked yourself into the closet sized office for an entire hour. He was gone by that and so you ignored the curious stare of your employees and carried on like nothing happened.

Since then, you’ve been avoiding him at all cost and you realized you can do that the best if you just never go anywhere. His return is nerve wrecking enough already, but he has managed to ruin your favorite time of the year for you too. You can’t enjoy the Christmas market, the decoration, the festive vibes because every time you step out you’re afraid you might run into him again.

You’re convinced you wouldn’t survive it.

Looking at him last time was painful enough, mostly because you clearly see the version of him you were in love with and who broke your heart and left without looking back. You could notice the changes on him, his hair, his face, it wasn’t the same and yet… you were still stuck in the past.

There’s just way too much hurt in you after what happened, lots of questions and even more anger towards him that you’ve kept bottled up all these years and you fear you might snap if you have to face him again.

“Are you gonna hide in the back today as well?”

Willa, your student cashier gives you a look as you walk past her when you finally arrive in the afternoon. She’s been working for you for almost a year, she’s trust-worthy and very hard-working, but she also has a tendency to speak her mind quite openly. She is never afraid to call you out when you’re acting ridiculously.

“I’m not hiding,” you hiss at her. “I have… some billing… stuff to do,” you mumble and you wonder how you got to the point where a seventeen years old girl is telling you off when you were supposed to be her boss.

“Whatever you say, boss,” she shrugs as an elderly woman walks in and she busies herself with serving her.

“Kids these days…” you mutter under your breath before locking yourself up in your office.

Running your own business luckily usually has your hands full when you’re at the bakery, so you forget about Harry’s existence as you dive right into work. Unfortunately, it seems like today won’t be the day when you can escape through work.

“Boss?” Willa appears at the backdoor right after you finished a call with one of your suppliers.

“What’s up?” you smile at her, but then see the worried look on her face and you just know already what this is about. “Don’t say—“

“He’s here. Asking for you.”

“Damn it,” you groan, burying your face in your hands. “Tell him I’m not here.”

“That’s not gonna work.”

“Why not?”

“Because I already told him you’re here.”

“Fuck,” you whisper. “Okay, then tell him—“

“Or maybe you could just talk to him.”

Harry’s voice startles you. You both look at him, he’s standing a few feet away from you and you feel heat rushing through your veins, which is kind of useful since you’re not wearing a coat and it’s quite freezing out here.

“I’ll be… in my spot,” you hear Willa say before rushing back inside, leaving you alone.

“I’m sorry, but I’m really busy and whatever you want—“

“I want to talk, Y/N. You can’t just avoid me forever, I live here now.”

“The town is not that small, we can just live next to each other without crossing paths.” You turn to head back inside, but he grabs your hand and pulls you back, the sudden touch of his hand on your skin sending jolts of electricity through your whole body. You yank it back as you turn to face him.

“Y/N, don’t you think we should at least just talk it over?”

“You wanna talk? You wanna talk about how you fucked me over? How you broke my heart and left me when I needed you the most? How you said you’d love me forever, but you didn’t even love me enough to stay when I put all my money into starting a business and a life here?”

“Y/N—“

“I never wanted to do it alone! I explicitly told you that I don’t want to go into it on my own and you said you’d be here and that we could do it together. And then you lost your mind, said you can’t handle being tied down here and that you needed freedom. You threw me away like you didn’t promise me forever a million times before. So you want to talk about that?”

Your sudden outburst is a surprise to the both of you, but it also feels liberating to unload it all.

“I think we are way past the talking phase, Harry. You wanted to leave, me and the town, whatever! You can do whatever you want even if it destroys other people. But don’t be surprised when said people don’t want you in their life.”

This time he doesn’t try to stop you when you storm back inside. He doesn’t come after you either.

You think about your encounter nonstop for the next few days. He is all you think about and you hate him for that. You also ponder whether you were way too harsh with him or not, but you always get to the same conclusion. Your words do not compare to the pain he caused you when he left.

The twenty-third is the last day the bakery is open, but seeing the heavy snowing in the morning you ring in to tell the shift that you’ll be in soon and they can leave early, have the rest of the day off. It’s a little past ten when you arrive, you help them close and prepare the place for the few days off. You stay after everyone is gone, doing some last minute paperwork and barely even notice how time flew by.

And how much snow has fallen.

“Shit,” you mumble under your breath when you see the whole street covered in inches of fresh, white snow and it’s still heavily falling. The wind has picked up too, it might soon turn into a whole storm so you better get going.

You parked down in front of the bakery, so you easily get in, but as you try to start the car, it refuses to do anything.

“Come on, come on!” you groan, turning the key in the ignition over and over again, but it wouldn’t start. You’re forced to walk home, which means about 45 minutes out in this weather.

You zip up your jacket, pull your hat on and brace yourself for freezing to death before getting out of the car and you just start walking, hoping for the best. The first few steps are not that bad, you let yourself believe you’ll be home in no time, but by the time you reach the corner, you’re thinking about just turning back and waiting for the end of the snowing in the bakery. You’re eyes are watering up, but the cold wind is practically freezing it onto your cheeks. There’s snow everywhere, your feet are slipping on the ice underneath the fresh snow and you know it’s just a matter of time until you land on your ass.

And then a car pulls up beside you.

“Y/N? What are you doing out here?” Harry calls out over the passenger seat.

“Having a grill party, what do you think?” you scoff, pulling your jacket tighter around you. “My car died.”

“Get in, you’re gonna get pneumonia!”

“No thank you, I’m totally fine!” you stubbornly say and start walking again.

“Y/N, please! I’m not letting you walk home, you’ll never make it on foot!” He drives slowly beside you as a harsh wind blows right into your face, almost pushing you off your feet. “Just get in the car!”

You clench your jaw as you think about your choices: freezing to death on your way home or spending a few minutes in a car with Harry to get home safely. It’s a hard one.

“No talking, okay?” you say as you get in his car, the warmed up seat immediately melting up your frozen muscles.

“Okay,” he nods as he starts driving, but the silence lasts for about five minutes. “You really thought it was a good idea to walk home in this weather?”

“Where’s the no talking?”

“I’m sorry, but you just… You’ve always been so stubborn, it’s good to know you’re the same,” he chuckles softly, but it just gets your blood boiling.

“I’m not the same and you know nothing about my stubbornness. Now would you just drive me home and not talk to me like you promised? Though promises don’t mean shit to you, that I know.”

Your words cut like a knife, but at least he goes silent. Staring out the window you watch the snow fall, it’s unusually thick, you haven’t seen anything like this in years around here. It mesmerizes you so much you don’t even notice where you’re going, only when Harry kills the engine and you see an unknown building instead of your home.

“What? Where are we?” you ask, looking around, trying to see what part of town you’re at but you can’t make out because of the snow.

“My place,” he answers.

“Why? I don’t live here, take me home!”

“Y/N, your home is another at least fifteen minute drive from here, but I can barely see the front of the car in the snow. Just wait it out at mine and then I’ll take you home.”

“Hell no! I’m not waiting for anything!” you protest.

“I bet Clement Road is already blocked, we wouldn’t even make it to your place!”

“You planned this whole thing out, didn’t you?”

“What?” he chuckles in disbelief. “Oh yes, I ordered the snowstorm and killed your car too.”

“Wait, you did?” your eyes widen. “I-I mean the car, did you do it?”

“Oh my God, Y/N, I did not!” he throws his hands into the air. “I did not mess with your car, I was coming from my grandma when I saw you. Now please just be rational for a minute and wait until the snow stops. I promise, I will take you home as soon as the roads are drivable.”

You hate to admit that he is right, that it’s your only and best choice if you don’t want to walk home and freeze to death. So, true to your stubborn self you get out of the car without a word and march up to the front door of the house he parked in front of. Moments later you hear him get out of the car too.

“The no talking rule still applies,” you mumble under your breath as Harry keys the two of you into the townhouse. He nods, pushing the door open and lets you go inside first.

It hasn’t processed that you’re now entering his private space, a place that’s his home, but you’ve never been to. He was still living with his mum when the two of you dated, you knew that house like the back of your hand, it was a second home to you. You haven’t been there since the breakup. 

“How wet are you?” he asks and your eyes snap wide.

“What?”

“Your clothes,” he adds with a cheeky smirk hiding in the corners of his mouth. “How wet did they get? Do you want a change?”

“Um… My pants are kinda saggy. And my socks.”

“I’ll get you a full change. Make yourself home,” he says, before disappearing down the hallway. 

For a few seconds you don’t move, feeling odd to be here, but when you recover, you wander into the living room that’s on the right from the front door, looking around curiously.

He still hasn’t packed out fully, there are a few boxes lying here and there, but the place looks cozy already and most importantly a lot like him. You see pieces of him everywhere, decors and furniture that just screams Harry, or at least the Harry you know from years ago.

He returns with a pile of clothes in his hands and he has already changed as well into sweatpants and a shirt.

“Here, the bathroom is on the left, throw your wet clothes into the dryer. I’ll make us hot tea.”

He hands you over the clothes and his signature smell hits your nose right away, nostalgia washing over you as you nod hazily and leave to the bathroom. You strip out of your wet clothes and put on the sweatpants and shirt he gave you and suddenly you’re back in time when you used to spend days without end at Harry’s and you had to wear his clothes because you’ve run out of yours. You loved stealing his hoodies and shirts, they felt like his warm embrace, but now… it confuses you.

Walking out you hear him on the phone and judging from the conversation, it’s probably Anne. He has put the kettle on, two mugs set on the kitchen counter as he stands by the window, staring out while talking to his mother. You don’t want to invade on the private conversation, so you return to the living room and snoop around a bit.

What caught your attention first thing when you walked in is the fireplace. He used to tell you about how much he wanted one so he could drink tea and read in front of it. You wonder if it’s what sold him the place when he was looking around.

On top of the fireplace there are a bunch of memorabilia, picture frames, gifts he has gotten over the years. It wouldn’t be that big of a deal, but as you scan over it, you find more and more things that are connected to you.

First there’s a candle you bought for him after a fight as your peace offer. Then there’s a photo framed from Anne’s birthday, it’s got her, Harry, Gemma and you on it. The more photos you look at, the more you’re met with yourself. You would have never expected him to showcase any pictures that has you in it, but he clearly doesn’t mind looking at you every day. Reaching into the little wooden box that sits on the left edge of the fireplace, you find movie and theater tickets, most of them he used with you on dates. He has a whole stack, probably with every movie and play you two have seen and there are a lot.

“I kept them all.”

His voice startles you, you were so busy snooping around you didn’t notice he finished his call. Shutting the lid of the box you turn around and fold your arms over your chest to stop you from touching anything.

“Why?” you question.

“Because they are memories. Good ones.”

He sets down two mugs on the coffee table, hot tea steaming from them, but they get ignored as he walks up to you and grabs the box. Digging into the tickets he grabs one and hands it over to you.

“Do you remember this?”

Taking the piece of paper you look at the title. It’s from the old cinema in town you used to go to almost every month. They always had some of the old gems playing and you loved having the experience of being in the movies, watching a film that can’t be seen elsewhere.

This particular ticket was for The Breakfast Club, one of your biggest favorites. You missed the few times they played it in the theater and you were bummed. So Harry got them to add one more date, on your birthday. It was the sweetest thing someone has ever done for you and you’d be lying if you said it doesn’t fills your chest with warmth.

It’s a happy memory you share with him.

“I remember it. Yeah,” you say, clearing your throat as you hand the ticket back, knowing you have it saved at home too.

“You’ve seen that movie so many times, you were mumbling the lines next to me,” he chuckles, as he places the box back.

“Why do you have all these?”

“Told you, they are good memories,” he shrugs, ignoring what you really meant by your question.

“You shouldn’t be holding onto them,” you shake your head, taking a few steps away from him to put some distance between the two of you.

“Why?”

“Because you left me,” you snap at him. “These memories weren’t good enough for you to keep you here. With me.”

Spite is dripping from your words, words you’ve been meaning to get off your chest, but you kept them buried deep inside you.

“Y/N, I didn’t leave because I didn’t want to be with you or because I wasn’t happy.”

“Oh, so you just woke up one day and decided you had better things to do?” you scoff.

“Jesus, would you stop belittling our relationship and my feelings for you?”

“Feelings?” you can’t stop yourself from laughing. “What feelings did you have that made you leave me, huh?”

Whenever you thought of having this conversation with Harry you imagined yourself staying calm and collected, not letting him show how much he hurt you, but you’re more like a deranged mess.

“I panicked, Y/N, okay? I was… I was young and for a moment I felt like I was running out of time. I was wrong, but by the time I realized, it was too late.”

“Trapped? You felt trapped in our relationship? Well, that’s just great to know.”

“I had no reason to feel like that, it was a momentary craziness. Have you not gone through that? Have you never questioned your decisions before?”

“Of course I did, but I didn’t move across the country or left behind the people I said I love.” It’s a hit below belt, but you can’t help it.

“I made mistakes, I’m human! But I’m here to make things right!”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“That I’m here to earn your forgiveness. I hurt you, caused you a lot of pain and I want to make up for that.”

“That’s very noble, but I’m not a partner in that.”

“I’m not asking you to take me back, I know I fucked up big time. I’m just trying to do the right thing and earn your forgiveness.”

“Stop saying that!” you growl.

“What?”

“That you want to earn my forgiveness!”

“But it’s the truth!”

“You wouldn’t need my forgiveness if you loved me enough to stay!”

“Would you stop refuting my feelings?!”

“Don’t lecture me about your feelings! I’m only seeing the facts, that you didn’t love me enough not to leave! So if you want to get me to believe you still love me and want me back, I can assure you, it’s not enough now! You left me when we had so much at stake, when I spent all my money on a business we were supposed to start together! I was all alone, I lost my lover, I lost my faith in a future we planned together! If you loved me, you wouldn’t have done that!”

“You think I don’t love you?” he raises his voice, clearly short on his patience as well.

“Oh, I know you don’t!” you scream at him.

For a few heartbeats he just stares at you and you have no idea where this is about to go. Then, without a word he storms back into his bedroom and you stand there, stunned with your chest heaving.

When he appears a few moments later he is carrying a big cartboard box. He throws it to the floor in front of you and opening he reveals a big collection of… everything that has anything to do with you.

“I kept every tiny thing that reminds me of you. Everything! All of our polaroids!” He grabs the dozens of photos the two of you took over the years and throws up into the air like confetti. “I have every gift you gave me, every clothes you got me, everything!”

He keeps throwing things out, laying them in front of your feet as you stare at him with your lips parted.

“These,” he continues, holding up a stack of papers, “are letters I wrote to you since I left. Over eighty letters, Y/N! Every time I wanted to run back to you begging for you to take me back, I remembered that you probably hate me, so I wrote you letters I never sent!”

He throws the letters into the air too and you watch them fly around in the room as Harry stands up.

“Wanna know why I still have these? Why I’m here? Why I came back? The only fucking reason I came back?”

Blinking you feel a tear rolling down your cheek.

“Why?” you whisper.

“Because I love you! I never fucking stopped loving you, Y/N!” he screams at you and this time you. “And if I have to spend the rest of my life paying for what I did to you, I will fucking do it, because you’re my everything and I would rather atone forever than live a moment knowing I didn’t try everything to make up for what I did!”

He’s breathing heavily and so are you. The intensity of the moment is swallowing you in whole and you feel like you could just collapse any moment. His confession has broken everything you’ve built up in you in the past years and now as you stare back at him, you go fully blank before…

You move before you could even think and Harry mirrors you the same moment, the two of you meet halfway and unite in hard, demanding kiss you’ve fantasized about so many times, beating yourself up about it.

You lose every ounce of self-control, you both do. Everything you do is so primal, just wanting to fulfill this burning need inside you for each other. You push against Harry, fingers grabbing onto his hair hard while his hands dig into your waist, he is making you walk backwards, stumbling and stepping on his letters and polaroids, but nothing matters.

It’s tug of war as you head to the bedroom without stopping the hungry, almost violent kissing and you tear your clothes off of each other as if they were poisonous. When he presses you against the wall at one point, pushing his erection against you, a loud cry bursts out of you, grabbing onto him even more desperately.

By the time he throws you onto the mattress you’re naked and he’s ridding himself of his last piece of clothing. You moan as you see his hard cock springing free, begging to be buried in you finally. He climbs on top of you and the weight of his body presses you into the mattress heavenly. You don’t even notice that you’ve started crying as you cling onto him as if your life depended on it.

He stops for a moment, brushing the tears off of your face.

“Hey,” he softly says, kissing the corner of your mouth and lifting himself up. “We don’t have to do this if you—“

“Please!” you gasp, pulling him back. “Please stay here,” you beg, linking your arms behind his head to keep him as close as possible. “Please stay here,” you repeat and you both know your words have a meaning beyond just wanting to keep him in your embrace in this moment.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m yours forever,” he assures before thrusting into you. “I’m yours forever.”

Harry seems to be asleep beside you when you finally decide to get out of bed and get yourself a glass of water. He stirs gently when the mattress moves underneath you, but doesn’t open his eyes. Quietly, you make your way to the kitchen and grab his shirt from the floor, pulling it on. You grab a glass and fill with tap water and stare out the window while sipping on it.

The storm has stopped, everything is covered in fresh, thick snow, right in time so you’ll have a white Christmas.

You repeat what happened tonight over and over again, trying to figure out how you truly feel about it. When you had Harry pressed up against you, you clearly wanted him in any and every way possible, but now that the lust as died down, momentarily, you’re finally using your brain to think.

You might have jumped at him too fast, it doesn’t mean that everything is smoothed out and there are no hard feelings. There are still questions and fears in you that you won’t be able to bottle up anymore.

“Everything alright?”

Harry’s voice startles you again and as you turn around you see him padding closer to you, wearing his sweatpants and a sleepy look on his face. He stops a few feet away from you, assessing your expression and he sees you the worry etched onto your face.

“Talk to me, Y/N,” he whispers, taking your face in his hands and you hold onto his wrists.

“We got a little carried away.”

“Do you regret it?” he asks and you can see panic rising in him.

“No,” you say without hesitation. “But… I can’t do this if you’re gonna leave again.”

Tears dwell in your eyes. You’re not angry anymore, but scared, that you’ll get hurt again, because you fear you wouldn’t survive it.

“I meant what I said, Y/N. I’m not going anywhere. Unless you want me to leave. I’m never making the same mistake again, I paid for it too.” Leaning down he kisses you softly, painting his promise onto your lips. “I promised myself I would be home this Christmas. But it’s not the town. You’re my home.”

You breathe in his words, let the relief settle in your chest as you nod and rest your forehead against his. Minutes pass by and he just holds you, ensures you silently that you’re not about to make a mistake by starting over with him.

“You must have heard how popular the bakery got, huh?” you joke with a chuckle.

“Ah, absolutely,” he grins, kissing the tip of your nose.

“I’m not letting you get into the business though.”

“So I can’t be a kept man? Damn it!” he laughs and you giggle against his neck. “I’ll prove you that it’s not a mistake, okay? I’ll earn your trust back.”

“Okay,” you whisper with a nod.

“Come on, let’s get back to bed. We can talk more in the morning.”

You follow him back into the bedroom and you gladly settle in his embrace, cocooned in his arms, knowing that this Christmas you’ll be home too.

Harry’s arms are clinging onto you when you slowly wake in the morning. His hands have sneaked underneath your shirt, the warmth of his palms coating your naked skin underneath the layers.

He has always been a clingy sleeper, you learnt that early in your relationship. All those mornings you spent tangled up in each other, soft, lazy kisses, Harry’s hands all over you, because he could never get enough of you.

“I love you, my Y/N.”

“My sweet love, good morning.”

“So soft, so warm, all mine.”

He was always the sweetest in the morning. And he was the same the day he decided to leave. You felt his touch on your waist, stomach and chest, he hugged you tight, his body pressed up against yours in bed as the morning sunshine beamed through the window. It was like every other morning, only that he didn’t go to bed with you that day.

You stretch blindly, enjoying the feeling of Harry wrapped around you, but slowly, you feel like you’re tossed back in time to the day he left, reliving the possibly worst day of your life.

“Mm, morning,” Harry murmurs behind you, his lips pressing to your shoulder before he gently turns you in his arms and he kisses your pouty lips once. Twice. But before he could go for a third one, he realizes something is off. “Babe?”

“I’m… S-sorry, I just…” you sit up in bed, looking around, taking in your surroundings as sleep wears off of your eyes. You’re in Harry’s bedroom at his new place, yet you still feel like you’re in the past, stuck with the version of Harry that will leave you. Again.

“Hey, it’s alright. Just breathe for me.” He gently rubs your back as your breaths are rapidly heaving through your chest. “It’s alright, baby.”

“Are you gonna leave?”

The words roll down your tongue before you could even think twice and you want to take them back, afraid that they might hurt him, but they also root from your fears you’re still struggling with.

Harry stares back at you for a moment and you expect him to walk out on you, but it never happens. Instead, he cups your face in his hand and leaning closer he brushes his lips softly against yours.

“I’m not leaving, Y/N. Never. I know it’s hard to see anything other than the past, but I will work hard to change that.”

“It’s just… so many things remind me of what was before,” you whisper, almost embarrassed, but you just can’t help this feeling that keeps crawling up your spine, into your mind.

“I know. It’s okay, I don’t expect you to change so fast, I know I have to work for it and we’ll get there, to the point where I earn your trust back. Okay?”

“Okay,” you nod shortly as he rests his forehead against yours.

“I love you. We’ll get through this.”

“I love you too,” you coo and crawl to his lap, letting him wrap in his embrace as he lies back in bed, pulling you with him.

“Do you remember how we used to spend Christmas?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “We got a Christmas tree together just before Christmas, made gingerbread house and exchanged gifts on the twenty-fourth, because we were too excited to wait till the morning,” you say with a tiny chuckle.

“What if we did everything different from now on? Make new traditions?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Well, we could decorate the tree earlier, look for a different recipe to bake and wait till the morning with the gifts.”

“We could attempt to wait… But we might fail.”

A laugh rumbles through Harry’s chest from where you lift your head to look at him.

“I’m sorry I freaked out on you.”

“Don’t be. Just let me be there for you when it happens.”

“Okay,” you whisper and push yourself up so your lips could meet his and this time, it finally feels new. It’s your fresh start.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[winnipegpatty]

watchmegetobsessed is doing “fanficmas” and already has at least two cute christmas fics out 🙂🙂

OMG BLESS THANK YOU

@watchmegetobsessed (tagging so I can click and others can too haha)

[reasoniwantyoutostay]

Mr. No Social Media

I decided to make a second chapter to this fic about the instagram pic Isak took of Even. Read on AO3 here.

“Ok seriously. I can’t go to school tomorrow with 20 hickeys on my neck.” Isak pleaded with Even.

“But it’s one of the most delicious parts of you.” Even said in between kisses.

“What am I? A slice of cake?” Isak laughed.

“Yes and I want to eat you up.” Even growled into Isak’s neck.

“Hey! If you’re so hungry let’s get something to eat.” Isak said as he tried to pull away from Even.

Even sighed as he let his grasp on Isak loosen.

“Ya I guess I’m pretty hungry from all that gaming and the other extracurricular activities we’ve been up to.” Even said with his signature eyebrow raise.

“How can a man make me melt from just raising his eyebrows?” Isak thought. But then he shook his head bringing himself back to reality.

“Ok I gotta piss. You order us some pizza.” Isak said as he rolled off the bed.

Even reached for his phone. “Hey, mine’s dead.”

“Here use mine.” Isak said as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, unlocked it, and threw it on the bed.

Even picked up Isak’s phone just as the lock screen disappeared. He was surprised to see his own face looking back at him. Hunched over with the controller in his hand and an intense look in his eyes. Even felt a smile grow across his face as he thought of Isak sneaking a photo of him.

“Did you order the pizza?” Isak said as he stepped back into the room and closed the door.

“Hmmm, well I got a little distracted. Are you stalking me?” Even teased as he held up Isak’s phone.

Isak lunged for his phone but Even held it up out of his reach.

“How many sneaky pictures of me do you have in here?” Even taunted.

While holding the phone in the air with one hand Even was also now tickling Isak’s ribs with the other. Isak struggled to reach his phone and at the same time giggled from Even’s tickling.

“Stop it! Give me my phone! I don’t have any other pictures of you! I promise.” Isak exclaimed.

“Hmmm do I trust you?” Even pondered.

“Yes you can trust me. I don’t even remember taking it.” Isak pleaded.

“Well maybe we should delete it then if it’s not that important.” Even said slyly.

“No! Come on Mr. No Social Media. How else am I supposed to get a picture of you?.” Isak thought maybe that sounded a little too needy. He glanced down nervously.

“Oh I see. I’m being judged because I don’t have Facebook?.” Even scoffed.

“No. That’s not what I meant. It’s just I like your face OK and it’s nice to see it when you’re not around. There. Are you happy now?” Isak sighed. Yup just a little too needy.

Even returned the phone into Isak’s hand. Isak looked up to find Even’s beautiful soft eyes looking back.

“Well maybe… what was it again? Mr. No Social Media? Ya maybe he should make his debut.” Even said as he winked at Isak.

“What?” Isak balked.

“Ya. You should share that on your Instagram. It’s where I found all those cute pictures of you after we met at Kosegruppa. Now you can have a cute pic of me on there too.” Even said as he gave a sly smile.

Isak’s mouth fell open.

“Ha. Who’s the stalker now?” Isak felt a bit shy as he realized Even had been lusting after him for so long.

“Fine. We’re both stalkers but who isn’t these days? So what hashtag should you add? The man of my dreams?” Even said with a smirk.

“You’re soooo funny.” Isak said as he rolled his eyes at Even.

Looking down at his phone again he saw the picture and thought “Well it’s a pretty innocent picture. Just some friends hanging out playing video games.”

Isak opened Instagram. Even leaned over to spy on Isak’s phone.

“Hey. If I’m posting this on my feed you don’t get a say in what I write on it.” Isak said as he held his phone closer to his chest.

Looking again at the photo, Isak wrote the first thing that came to mind.

“The moment before the rage #” He paused. Then quickly wrote “fifa”.

Isak tapped the share button before he could change his mind. Realizing he had been holding his breath he looked up and took a big sigh. Even was right there smiling at him.

“So are we still ordering pizza?” Isak asked trying to deflect the conversation away from cute pictures of Even.

“Sure. What do you want?” Even answered as Isak shuffled closer to him and opened the Dominoes app.

Isak tucked himself under Even’s arm as they both looked down at his phone. Before Isak could start looking at the pizza menu an alert popped up on his screen.

Instagram:  jonas9000 commented: Cute

Isak could feel his cheeks turning red as Even hugged his arms around Isak.

“I guess your friends think I’m pretty cute too.” Even said as he laughed.

Isak couldn’t help but laugh too as he shook his head. All those weeks of hiding his feelings were exhausting. From Even, from Jonas, from Eskild. Maybe just giving into his feelings would be easier?

He leaned forward and caught Even’s lips in a deep kiss. Isak could feel Even’s hands reaching up to run through Isak’s hair. Tilting his head back Isak gave into Even’s touch. A small moan escaped Isak’s lips as he felt not only his body relaxing into this moment but also his mind. Letting go of his questioning thoughts Isak felt like he was floating. Tingling from head to toe.

After some time Even pulled back from the kiss. Isak opened his eyes.

“God Isak. You’re so fucking hot.” Even said as he shook his head like he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Isak smiled and just basked in the glow of Even.

Yup this whole giving into his feelings thing was sure a lot easier than fighting them. Easier and a lot more fun.

[finelinevogue]

Hey Ellie! Hope you're good<3 Btw I wanted to ask, are you gonna take part in fanficmas??? I would love to read more holiday fics if you are writing 💗💗💗

hiiiii! i’m doing good i’m about to go to sleep! how are youu??

let me know more info on fanficmas?!? how do i get involved and stuff cause it sounds fun!💖💖💖

[watchmegetobsessed]

❄️LIKE A FAMILY❄️

A/N: happy holidays cuties!! this is the first fic out of the three stories coming throughout christmas, i hope you'll enjoy them all!

WORD COUNT: 2k

PAIRING: older!Harry x single-mom!reader

SUMMARY: Harry never thought he would have a family to celebrate Christmas with, but now he has you and your daughter who he loves as his own and it seems like the little girl feels the same way about him.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

This fic is part of ❄️ FANFICmas 2022 ❄️ Read more about fanficmas here!

Harry hasn’t been this excited and nervous about Christmas since he was a little boy, when he still believed in Santa. He is thirty-seven now, yet his eyes pop open at six in the morning as if an alarm went off.

On his left he sees that you’re still peacefully asleep, your hair is a mess and your lips are slightly parted as you’re softly snoring beside him. He never told you that you snore, it’s his little secret, he knows you’d get embarrassed and try to find a way to stop yourself from doing it, but he actually loves it.

He tries to relax and stay in bed a little longer, but he can’t stay put and he doesn’t want to wake you up, so he navigates his way out of the bedroom to make breakfast. He passes the giant Christmas tree, it’s the biggest he has ever gotten, but in the past few years he had no one to celebrate with and he didn’t want to waste on Christmas decoration just for himself. This year, however, he went all out so you and Tia would have the best first Christmas you spend living together. It’s a special occasion and Harry wanted it to be perfect and memorable.

If someone told him three years ago that he would have an enormous Christmas tree in his penthouse with dozens of gifts for a little girl underneath, he would have snorted out a laugh and called them crazy. Even maintaining a stable relationship felt like impossible a while ago, but a lot has changed.

He met you and your daughter, Tia.

He had his doubts about dating a single mom, but you had him wrapped around your finger even before your first date. He fell hard and fast and he changed his whole lifestyle to suit you and it was the best decision he has ever made. Now, two years later you’ve officially moved in just a month ago and you’re spending the holidays together.

Like a family.

Harry never saw himself as a father figure, he has come to terms with the possibility of never having kids a long time ago. Yet his life has turned upside down because of one three years old princess who is the true ruler of his luxurious home these days. There are dolls and toys everywhere, a pink towel and bathrobe in his spotless modern bathroom, a tiny, yellow raincoat with daisies on it hung up next to his Gucci coat and most of the times Barbie movies are played on his flat screen.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He walks over to the fridge that has Tia’s schedule on it, Harry’s name put up next to her ballet classes, it’s been his duty to pick her up every Tuesday and Thursday, everyone in his office knows he leaves the building at four no matter what to be at the dance studio by four thirty.

He decides to make pancakes, Tia’s favorite. He grabs everything he needs from the fridge and the pantry before mixing them up and grabbing a pan. Stacking them on each other he sets the table for three, brews the coffee just how you like it and makes hot chocolate for the little girl.

“You’re up early.”

He hasn’t even noticed you were approaching him as he flips another pancake. You walk up to him and press a loving kiss between his shoulder blades before wrapping your arms around his waist from behind.

“Did I wake you up?” he asks.

“No. Bed was cold without you though,” you hum as you watch him put the pancake on top of the pile and pouring more of the mixture into the pan.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“I hope you’re not nervous,” you chuckle, but you hit the nail on the head and his silence proves that to you. “H, she will love your gifts. All eleven of them,” you add smiling. He went a little overboard with toy shopping, but he wanted Tia to have the best time the first year she spends Christmas with him. He knows how big of a change it was for the two of you to move in with him and he wants to show you how happy he is that you took this step.

“Just want everything to be perfect,” he mumbles shyly, finishing up the last pancake.

Moments later he hears Tia’s door open and a pair of tiny feet are tapping on the granite floor as she runs down the hallway, appearing with her crazy bed hair and wearing her favorite Christmas jammies.

“Santa was here?” is the first thing she asks, dragging her giraffe plushie after her. “Santa was here!” she shrieks seeing all the gifts underneath the tree and Harry can’t help but smile to himself, thinking about how you and him placed all the neatly wrapped boxes out last night after she went to sleep.

“He was, but you need to eat breakfast first,” you remind her as you walk up to her and take scoop the little girl up into your arms.

“Oh, pancakes!” she grins happily when she sees what’s on the table.

“Yes, Harry made them for us,” you hum, kissing her cheek before making her sit in her usual seat. She’s still a bit too small for the table, but she insists on eating like you and Harry lately.

“Thank you!” she smiles at him and you don’t miss how his cheeks blush.

“You’re welcome, princess.” He places everything needed on the table before walking past behind Tia, pressing a kiss on top of her head and taking his seat.

Tia talks about the dream she had and Harry listens to her as if she was explaining the meaning of life to him. You help her with the syrup, but let her handle her food alone. She only gets one little spot on her jammies, though her chubby cheeks have syrup all over them.

“Can you clean her up a bit? I’ll clean the table,” you ask Harry and he nods before moving over to Tia with a napkin to wipe her face as much as he can.

He then takes her to the bathroom to wash her hands and the rest of her face while you load the dishwasher. You remember when you met him, Tia had just turned one and Harry was scared to even hold her hand. He said she was so small and fragile, he didn’t feel like he could take good care of her. Now he is the first one to pick her up whenever she demands to be carried, he loves wrestling with her on the couch, throwing her up into the air and of course he catches her every time with ease.

“Gifts! Gifts!” she chants as she rockets out of the bathroom, into the living room where the Christmas tree is, Harry following behind her.

The three of you settle by the tree on the soft carpet as Tia scans over all the boxes.

“Which is mine?” she asks.

“See, this is your name,” you point out one of the boxes that has her name written on it. “T-I-A, look for that.”

Tia sorts out all the boxes that belong to her and starts ripping the apart while Harry watches her reaction to all of them anxiously, relief washing over him every time he sees her face light up. Dolls, plushies, clothes and all kinds of toys, Tia got everything she put on her list and even more.

You open your gifts and you give Harry his, though it was a struggle to find something to give to a man who has everything he wants, but when he opens the box and sees the tickets to his favorite Broadway show his face lights up and he kisses you softly, mumbling his thank you against your lips.

“Mommy, can I?” Tia asks you when every gift has been unwrapped. Harry furrows his eyebrows in confusion while you know exactly what your daughter is asking you about.

“Yeah, I’ll grab it for you,” you smile, standing up from your spot and disappearing in Tia’s room for a moment before returning with an envelope.

“What’s that?” Harry asks as he watches you join him on the floor again.

“It’s a gift! I made it for you!” Tia announces in excitement as you hand her the envelope so she can give it to Harry, who is shocked to be receiving something from Tia.

“Oh… Thank you so much,” he says, taking the gift from her.

Tia starts jumping up and down giggling as Harry opens the envelope and pulls a drawing out. His lips part as he examines the masterpiece and he realizes what it is.

“It’s us!” Tia explains as she climbs to Harry’s lap so she can point at the figures. “This is mom, this is me and this is you!” she points at the stick figures in the middle. “We’re in the park!” she adds, which explains all the green scribbles around the stick figures, a big yellow splodge in the corner of the paper which he assumes is the Sun.

It’s an average kids drawing, he knows Tia loves drawing, but what completely takes his breath away are the wobbly words underneath the figures that she wrote probably with your help.

Mom, Me, Dad, the words read, the first D in dad is backwards and her M’s are giant compared to the other letters but it doesn’t matter, he is fixated on the last word.

“Y-You wrote these?” he asks, his eyes first moving to Tia and then to you. You sit with a warm smile, watching the two of them have this amazing moment.

“Yes! Mommy helped!”

“And… you know what they mean?” Harry asks carefully and Tia nods.

“Mom, Me and Dad,” she answers and Harry’s eyes start dwelling instantly as she wraps his arms around the little girl, hugging her to his chest tightly.

“So I’m Dad?” he asks when he lets go of Tia, but she remains sitting on his lap.

“Mhm,” she nods, playing with his necklace, probably not even realizing how major this moment is to Harry. “If you want,” she adds.

“I would love to be your dad, Tia,” he says with the most lovesick smile you’ve ever seen on his handsome face.

The three of you stay and play a little more with Tia before Harry gets up to put her drawing up to the fridge. He can’t help but stare at it grinning.

“She’s been so excited to give it to you,” you say as you walk up to him, linking your arm with his as the two of you look at the drawing.

“You’re not mad she called me dad?” he asks, worries popping up in his head suddenly.

“H, I cried when she asked me to help her write dad on the picture,” you admit with a chuckle. “I thought she would have to grow up without a father and now she has the absolute best dad I could ever wish for her. I could never be mad at that.”

His shoulders loosen up as he leans down and steals a short kiss.

“You think I’ll be a good dad?” he quietly asks.

“You are a good dad, Harry. You read her bedtime stories, watch all the Barbie movies with her, you ignore all work calls when you’re with her, she feels safe with you, she trusts you and she loves you. I can never thank you enough for being this amazing with her.”

“I love her too,” he softly says. “How could I not? She is… the most perfect little princess,” he adds with a little chuckle.

“She is your princess,” you grin before pushing yourself up on your tiptoes to kiss his lips. “And… I don’t want you to freak out, but… if you ever decide you want another pair of tiny feet running around here… I’m down for that.”

“You want another?” he asks, his eyebrows shooting up at your suggestion.

“With you, I would have a dozen more,” you chuckle. ”But one would be nice too. I think Tia would be a great big sister.”

“She would,” he nods, his hand wandering down to yours, rubbing his thumb over your naked ring finger. “Let’s get back to this when you have something here,” he says with a smirk and your heart skips a beat at his words.

“Okay,” you say breathless, pressing your lips to his again.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[watchmegetobsessed]

❄️DEAR HARRY❄️

A/N: how crazy that we are on week 3 already?? i hope you guys are seriously getting into the holiday spirit!!

WORD COUNT: 3.8k

SUMMARY: You become penpals with a cute boy in middle school. You fall for him while he becomes an international rockstar, but will you ever actually meet him?

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

This fic is part of ❄️ FANFICmas 2022 ❄️ Read more about fanficmas here!

“Y/N! You got a letter!”

You have never sped down faster than at that moment. You’ve been anticipating that letter more than anything and quite frankly, you never thought receiving a letter would ever feel this exciting.

But it does. And it’s all because of a boy you have never even met.

“Gimme!” you exclaim as you run up to your mother, grabbing the letter from her before she could even hold it out for you and you are already on your way back to your room to read it and probably memorize every word of it.

Throwing yourself onto the bed you take a look at the handwriting on the envelope, your smile growing wider before you open it and pull out the paper.

Dear Y/N,

I have news for you! But I will only reveal them to you at the end of the letter. And don’t cheat! Don’t read ahead!

This week has been boring so far, we had a math quiz and I didn’t do too well, but it’s okay. If only you lived here, you could tutor me, but I’m left with my sister who is definitely not fit to be a teacher. She is so impatient and gets angry when I don’t understand something.

How did you do on your science project? I bet yours was the best and I’m convinced you’ll be a scientist one day. A scientist with a coffee shop. That’s an awesome pairing, don’t you think?

It’s been raining a lot here so I haven’t been out that much. Mum said it probably won’t change for a while.

And now the exciting news… Drumroll please! Are you ready?... I’m going to be on the X-Factor! Crazy, right? But I finally applied and I got a date for my first audition. It’s not the one you see on TV just yet, I only get there if I pass this first round, so wish me luck. Don’t worry, I won’t stop sending you letters even when I’m a big star. You’ll always be my favorite penpal!

I can’t wait to read your next letter!

Love, Harry

You read it over and over again until you can recite the whole thing almost word to word. Then you grab a paper and write your letter right away, putting it aside when it’s done so you can neatly fold Harry’s letter into the box that has all his previous ones. Eighty-seven, to be exact.

You’ve been penpals since last year. Your teachers were friends in college and they loved matching up their classes every year, turning them into penpals and making them send a few mails as a task so kids experience what it was like when there was no internet. You didn’t think much of the task and never expected to make a friend out of it.

But then you got paired with a boy named Harry, who lives in Holmes Chapel.

The first few letters were awkward and both of you just wanted the task to be over. But then you started sharing more and more with each other and kept up with the letters even when the task was over and they haven’t stopped, not even over a year later.

You have no idea what he looks or sounds like, you haven’t exchanged phone numbers, you both agreed you wouldn’t do that until your 100th letter, which is now approaching. Still, you feel like he is your best friend, better than the ones you see every day. And maybe it’s starting to feel more than a friendship, but can you fall for someone you have never even met?

 

You finish the drink in your hand, wait for the girl next to you to get to the end of the story she’s been telling your group. You came down to this little dorm party willing to socialize and make new friends, but you feel like a total outsider and you really don’t want to stay any longer. There are other things you’d rather do right now. Or at least one thing.

Trying your best to stay unnoticed, you slip out of the basement where the party is being held and head up to your room on the third floor. Your college experience hasn’t been like the ones you saw in movies, if you’re being honest, but you’re hoping it will get better in time.

The building feels empty outside of the basement, everyone is down there, having a blast while you can’t wait to return to your room. You’re roommate is either at the party too or maybe she is out with her friends, whichever it is, she’s not there when you get back to your room.

Throwing yourself down to the bed you grab your phone and type out a quick message to the only person you always want to talk to.

Y/N: What time is it where you are? Are you up?

You don’t expect him to answer right away, but his reply comes just moments after your message.

HARRY: Call?

You smile at how he ignored your questions and then start a call. He answers after the first ring.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at a party?” he asks instantly.

“I didn’t like it,” you shrug.

“You said that about the last three parties you went to. You’ll never meet people if you just sit around in your dorm room, Y/N.”

“Didn’t know I called my mother,” you mumble under your breath, which makes him laugh.

“Sorry… I’m just… worried. I want you to have fun.”

“Let’s talk about the fun you’re having. Tell me, where are you today?”

“New York. But I’m leaving tomorrow to LA. And don’t think you successfully changed the subject, we’ll get back to your social distancing.”

“LA, wow!” you pretend to be so into it, even though he’s been there a million times before. “Work stuff?”

“You could say that. There is this thing…”

You listen to him talk, he could be saying anything and you’d have him talk for hours, you wouldn’t get enough of his voice. After all, he’s a singer, it’s no surprise his voice is so soothing, though deep down you know you like it for a different reason.

It’s kind of ridiculous. You’re in love with a guy you’ve known since you were fourteen, but you’ve never met and in the meantime he also turned into an international rockstar, so the whole world knows him. It took the two of you almost two years to have your first phone call instead of sending letters. You still remember the first time you heard his voice over the phone, how he said your name and how you could barely get a word out at first. Now you text and call all the time though you’re still yet to meet.

You like to say it’s just how things turned out so far, that you could just never match a date to meet up, but in reality, you’re too scared to meet him, it would make it all too real and you fear he wouldn’t like you if you stood in front of him. So you remain in this bubble, where he is your friend far away who is also a celebrity. But to you, he’s just Harry, your old penpal.

“Promise me something, Y/N.” His tone turns serious and you bite your bottom lip before answering him.

“Okay.”

“Make at least one friend by the end of the semester.”

“Is that my homework?” you try to joke.

“I’m serious,” he breathes out. “I hate knowing that you’re there all alone.

“I do have friends. You’re my friend.”

“But I’m not there. You need someone to go to the library with, have lunch together and all that stuff. Please, promise me you’ll try, okay? Or I will have to take matters into my own hands.”

“Uh, what’s that supposed to mean?” you frown.

“I will fly over to you, no matter what and show up with you so people will want to get to know you.”

“Oh, so you’ll use your fame to get me friends who are only interested in you?” you laugh.

“Exactly, so you better get a friend yourself!”

“Okay, you got me. I will… try.”

“That’s good enough. I gotta go now. Talk to you later?”

“Sure. Call me whenever your schedule loosens up,” you tease him, hearing his laugh on the other end of the call.

“Will do.”

 

“Are you sure you’re okay? Because I could come over, make a woodoo doll for Mark and poke the shit out of him.”

You chuckle at Hilde’s suggestion as you sink further into your couch.

“I’m sure. I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

“Okay, but I’m taking you out for lunch tomorrow. I’m not letting you lock yourself up in your cave just because a dumbass with a receding hairline dumped you.”

“God, Hilde, will you ever run out of the mean comments about him?” you laugh in disbelief. You knew she wasn’t too fond of him, but she’s been extremely, aggressively mean towards him since the two of you broke up two days ago. You can’t believe you thought her to be an angelic, shy girl when you met her in college. It must have been those Scandinavian features, her blonde hair and blue eyes tricked you for sure when you sat next to her at the cafeteria. Hilde is the friend you made because Harry forced you to meet someone and you hate to admit it, but your life wouldn’t be the same without her. She’s the only friend you made in college and luckily, she’s still in your life, three years after graduation.

“I have a whole notebook full of them,” she proudly says. “Alright, I have to go now, but call me if you feel like you want to cry after Mark. He doesn’t deserve your tears, so we have to prevent that.”

“I promise,” you smile softly.

“I’ll be at yours tomorrow at one. Bye!”

The smile fades from your face as soon as the call ends and you settle back into your loneliness. If anyone saw you, they would think it’s because of the breakup, but deep down you know it’s not the reason.

Yes, it’s shitty that you dated someone for almost an entire year and they dumped you over the phone, but that’s not what hurts the most. You’re alone. Well, Hilde is always there for you, but you can’t turn to the person who was your biggest support in the past decade. Your failed relationship is just a reminder that you will never have the same kind of feelings for anything like you had for Harry. No matter what went down with Mark, you always knew he wasn’t the one.

Because he wasn’t Harry.

Unlocking your phone you scroll down in the messages until you find the last one you sent to Harry. It’s been over a year and you still miss him.

There was no fight, no one hurt anyone, you just had a fall-out around the time he started dating some model. The messages came less and less often, he missed your phone calls and took a long time to respond whenever you sent him a picture of something you thought he would appreciate. His actions spoke loud and you didn’t want to be the annoying friend who doesn’t get a hint. He just started his solo career, things were going great for him, he didn’t have time to keep in touch with the penpal he had when he was a teenager.

So you stopped trying and eventually, everything stopped.

And you miss him probably too much, but you can’t help it. You keep catching yourself wondering if he thinks about you too, if he sees something and it reminds him of you, because it happens to you all the time.

You’ve wanted to text him a million times since the radio silence has started, but talked yourself down every time. He is a celebrity, he has way too many things to do than to catch up with you, that’s if he even answered your message. His number might not even be the same.

You regret never meeting him. Now you’ll never know what it feels like to hug him, to see him smile in real life, to smell his scent. He’ll remain just his letters you still have under your bed and the memories you have of your phone calls.

Seeking closure you grab a paper and pen and write one last letter to him.

Dear Harry…

 

You can’t mask your shock as you stare down at the letter you just took out of your mail box. You recognize the handwriting right away, but you never thought you’d ever see it again, not on an envelope at least.

It takes you several minutes to snap out of your initial shock and rush up to your apartment, holding the letter to your chest as if it was your most precious treasure and in the meanwhile you think back at the date you sent out that last letter to Harry.

It’s been six months.

It took him six months for him to reply to a letter you didn’t even think he would ever read. What happened? Did he only get it now? Or did he hesitate for this long before deciding to reply? You have so many questions and you might get a few answers from the letter.

You drop down to your couch and open the envelope with shaking hands, pulling the neatly folded paper out.

Dear Y/N…

 

“You look disgustingly happy, have I told you that?” Hilde comments and you roll your eyes at her.

“Yes. Like a million times before.”

“Okay, then I will just keep saying it.”

“I thought you’d be happy to see me like this, you’ve been nagging me about him for years!” you tell her off teasingly.

“I am happy! But I didn’t think you’d radiate like this! Though I should have expected, you are so hopelessly in love with that man,” she sighs. “I can’t believe it took you guys fourteen years to finally arrange a meeting, what the fuck?”

“It’s not that dramatic,” you tell her, finishing up putting the mugs away. It’s the 23rd of December, you’re just an hour away from closing up so it’s just two customers and Hilde left in the café. Soon everyone will be gone and Harry will arrive to meet you for the very first time in real life.

It’s been a long journey up to this point. After your farewell letter you didn’t think you’d ever talk to him, but then six months later you got another letter from him. Since then, you figured out what took so long. You sent the letter to his old address, but his mum has moved away for a while now. Luckily, the new owner was kind enough to track Anne down and give her the letter, but it took some time for that to happen. Then it took about two months for Anne to give it to Harry, she kept forgetting about it until he was finally home and she could just hand it over when she remembered she still had it. Then came some hesitation, but it was just a week before Harry decided to write to you.

And then you started talking again.

He apologized for being so distant, he said his then girlfriend didn’t appreciate the tight friendship he had with you and it didn’t take long to get back to where you were before the fall-out.

Now it’s been a year and the moment has finally come. It’s time to meet in person and you feel better about it than ever. Probably because the two of you have definitely passed being just friends.

The flirty texts started about a month after you reconnected and they’ve been building up ever since. All your doubts that Harry could never see you as more than just a friend has vanished and now you’re just patiently waiting for the big moment to happen.

“We can’t change what happened now,” you shrug.

“Yeah. Now he’ll have a great story to tell at talk shows about how he met his girlfriend!” she snorts out a laugh.

“I’m not his girlfriend!” you protest, but your heart skips a beat at the word.

“But you will be when you leave this place tonight, hopefully with him, heading up to your place to make up for all the sex you missed in the past decade.”

“Hilde!” you chuckle, throwing a rug at her.

Soon the café empties out, Hilde helps you closing and she heads out to give you some peace before Harry is set to arrive. As you’re left alone, you take a look around the place and you can’t help but feel content with your life.

You opened the café last year, an old dream of yours that’s now finally reality. It’s small and took almost all of your savings to start the business, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything. It’s decorated with Christmas lights and ornaments, one of your employees, Krissy did it, she’s obsessed with the holidays so you let her go all out. Now it looks like a tiny winter wonderland, setting the perfect mood for your first time meeting Harry.

You can’t help but feel nervous. What will he think of you? Will he think you’re just like on the photos he’s seen of you? Or are you different? Is he nervous too?

You arrange a little setup on one of the tables, some freshly baked cookies and two mugs of hot chocolate. Everything looks perfect and he could be here anytime.

A car pulls up in front of the building and your heart skips a beat when you see him get out of it with a bouquet of roses in his hands. He doesn’t notice you through the windows, so you can have a good look at him before he comes inside.

He seems to take a few moments to himself, checking his hair in the mirror before taking a deep breath and nodding to himself. Seeing him like this, nervous like you makes you smile.

Then he turns to face the café and he spots you through the glass of the door and your eyes meet for the first time. For a few seconds you just stare at each other, bask in the moment before you both break out in smiles and he walks inside, stopping by the door, a few feet away from you.

“Hi,” he breathes out and you swear his voice sounds a million times better than on the phone or any video you’ve seen of him.

“Hi,” you chuckle and your legs start moving before you could even think.

You throw yourself into his arms and he catches you with ease, holding you tight and suddenly, you know this is where you belong.

“God, it’s so good to hold you, Y/N,” he chuckles, burying his face into your neck. You want to say the same, but it’s so overwhelming that you can just laugh and hold him tighter.

You have no idea how long you stay like that, wrapped up in each other, hours could have passed by and you wouldn’t have noticed. All you feel and see is Harry.

“It’s really you,” he chuckles when you pull apart at last and he can take a better look at you.

“I should be saying that, I was the one talking to a celebrity! You could have been a catfish all along!” you laugh as you soak him in, standing in the middle of your tiny café. “Um, come sit. I made cookies and… hot chocolate.”

“And I brought you these,” he holds out the roses for you that you take with a lovesick smile, placing them onto the counter before the two of you settle at the table you set.

You sit and talk and talk for hours, tell each other everything you’ve written about and the things you didn’t. Words and stories flow so easily, it’s like you’ve spent every waking moment by each other this past fourteen years. You cherish how you’re able to touch his arm and hand and he barely looks away from you, as if the sight of you has put a spell on him.

“Oh wow, it’s past midnight,” you snap out of the bubble you’ve been sitting in, realizing just how late it has gotten.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to overstay my welcome.” His eyes widen, but you just chuckle, shaking your head.

“You didn’t. It’s just that I have to be here by six thirty to open.”

“Oh shit, then… we should get going?” he suggests. “I can drive you home.”

“That would be great, thank you. Let me just bring these back to the kitchen,” you gesture at the empty mugs and plates.

“Let me help,” he offers, but you shake your head no.

“It’s alright, I can do it.”

You stack them all together and then bring them back, just tossing them into the sink. You’ll deal with them in the morning. When you walk out, you find Harry inspecting the place with a tiny smile.

“You really made this happen,” he says. “I remember when you wrote about wanting to start your own business when we were sixteen.”

“Well, it took me over a decade, but yeah,” you chuckle softly.

“I’m proud of you,” he says, his gaze meeting yours as he steps closer to you. “You’ve achieved so much. I just wish I could be next to you on the way.”

You catch a hint of disappointment flashing through his expression, but you don’t want him to blame himself. The fall-out might have been his fault mostly, but before that, it was you who avoided meeting him at any cost. Maybe things would have turned out different if you just met as soon as possible.

You’ll never know. But it’s alright, because you have a second chance now.

“You can be here from now on,” you quietly say and you can feel the atmosphere change in an instant. “If… If you want to,” you add.

Harry steps closer again until there are only inches parting you from him. He reaches up and cups your cheek in his hand, his eyes snapping down at your lips when they part.

“There’s nothing I would want more,” he replies, his lips pressing against yours finally.

Suddenly, you’re a curious teenager again, whose heart threatens to jump out of her chest seeing a new letter. The excitement of opening the envelope, reading his words and then writing back to him as soon as possible, it’s all here now that there’s no distance between the two of you.

You belonged to him even before you met and you belong to him now that he is closer to you than ever before.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[watchmegetobsessed]

❄️LEFT ON READ❄️

A/N: fanficmas has come to its end! i hope you uys enjoyed these little festive fics, thank you for reading and thank you to those who also participated in it!!

WORD COUNT: 3.4k

SUMMARY: Following a drunk night you realize you sent some voice messages to your childhood best friend about having feelings for him. Panic sets in when he leaves you on read with no reply.

This fic is part of ❄️ FANFICmas 2022 ❄️ Read more about fanficmas here!

“Oh my God, his car is on Anne’s driveway!”

You burst through the front door like the house is on fire, ripping your coat and scarf off of you while kicking your boots off. Your mom didn’t understand what you said, she just heard you act like there’s an emergency, so she runs out of the kitchen, her hands covered in flour, looking at you with wide eyes.

“What happened? Is the Christmas tree on fire?” she asks and you shake your head.

“Worse. Harry is home!” you groan before running upstairs, her laughter echoing behind you.

“I’m sure it will be alright, Honey!”

“Nothing will be alright mom!” you shout back before shutting the door of your childhood room behind you.

This is not how you imagined returning for the holidays, you ruined it all with one drunk night when you couldn’t control yourself and sent the absolute worst voice messages to your childhood best friend, Harry. The Harry Styles, the guy half the world is in love with.

And you’re part of that half, have been since you were about twelve.

ONE WEEK EARLIER

“Oh my God, I really shouldn’t drink another one,” you snort out a laugh, but take the tequila shot from Nara anyway.

“Come on, it’s our Friendmas, we all agreed to get smashed!” Cindy shrieks, clearly drunk, because her blonde hair has stray strands that escaped her always neat bun and she never allows her hair to be anything but perfect.

“Alright, alright, cheers!” you snort out a laugh as you clink your glasses together for the fifth time before chugging down the shots.

You can’t help but grimace as the liquid slips down your throat, burning your inside. Deep down you know you’ll regret all this alcohol in the morning when you’ll feel like dying, but tonight, you’re letting loose.

Your phone lights up on the table and you snatch it with a groan, trying to focus on the screen to see who just texted you.

HARRY: Alright, just text me when you get home so I know you didn’t die. Xx

You snort out a laugh, because you can actually hear him say it in your head.

“Oh, I’m guessing the rockstar has texted Y/N!” Nara laughs and you pull your shoulders up to your ears giggling.

“Stop!”

“When are you guys gonna have toe curling sex?” Cindy bluntly asks, grabbing her mojito from the table, trying to wrap her plump lips around the straw, but she misses several times before succeeding.

“Shut up, never!” you gasp, but warmth instantly crawls up your neck to your cheeks.

“Oh, come on!” Nara rolls her eyes. “You’re clearly in love with him and I’m sure he feels the same way. What’s stopping you?”

“It’s complicated, he doesn’t… He doesn’t love me that way,” you mumble, typing a reply to him that’s full of typos probably.

“You’re missing out, babe,” Cindy points at you, attempting to wink.

“You’ve definitely imagined what you’d say to him,” Nara grins at you. “Let us hear it!”

“No!” you protest.

“Yes! Let’s hear how you’d beg him to dick you down on the stage of Maddison Square Garden!” Cindy laughs like hyena and you gape at how unhinged she has become.

“Jesus,” you sigh, knowing they won’t leave you alone until you comply. “Okay, so I always imagined sending him voice messages, because he says he loves them, because he can listen to them anytime he wants.”

You look at your friends, pretending to hold your phone to your mouth, as if you were actually recording.

“Spicy,” Cindy giggles.

“What would you tell him?” Nara grins with glassy eyes.

“Something like… Hey, it’s Y/N.”

“Why would you say it’s you, he would literally be in his text messages with you,” Cindy cocks her head to the side.

“Shut up, Cindy!” Nara pokes her, making you laugh. “Go on!”

“Okay, so… There’s something I really want to tell you and I don’t think I can keep it a secret anymore. I’ve been madly in love with you since seventh grade, Harry. None of the guys I dated ever compared to you and I’m convinced I might die alone if we don’t get together.”

You let out a laugh, gesturing around with your phone in hand. You even almost drop it, Cindy shrieking and attempting to catch it, but you manage to keep it in your hand.

“Where’s the dirty part?” Nara asks.

“Yeah, you should tell him you want to suck his dick dry,” Cindy nods, taking another sip from her drink.

“I could never tell him about the things I’ve fantasized about in the past decade,” you laugh with your head falling back.

“But you can tell us!” Nara nods enthusiastically.

“No! I’m not… I want to keep that to myself, but let’s just say everything his fans thought of… I thought of those too.”

All three of you laugh before you venture to other topics and Harry gets forgotten. The night stretches long, it’s past three in the morning by the time you get back to your apartment. Even drunk, you remember Harry asked you to text him when you get home, so falling into bed you muster up some energy to open up his messages. Your fingers linger over the screen as you try to put together your thoughts, but all of them vanish when you see the last things you sent him.

Voice messages.

There are several of them after your last text to him. Blood rushes out of your head instantly as you sit up, suddenly wide awake. You tap on the first one and your voice flows out of your phone with the background noises of the bar.

“---and I don’t think I can keep it a secret anymore. I’ve been madly in love with you since seventh grade, Harry.”

“Oh no,” you gasp as you go to the next one.

“---convinced I might die alone if we don’t get together.”

Frantically you go over all of them, wishing the ground would open and it would swallow you forever.

“You should tell him you want to suck his dick dry.” Cindy’s voice is heard in the next one.

“---keep that to myself, but let’s just say everything his fans thought of… I thought of those too.”

The last message cuts off after your laughter. You’re staring at your phone in utter disbelief, part of you hoping the voice messages would just disappear from the thread and you’d realize you’re just too drunk and made up the whole thing.

But they remain there, and when your eyes wander lower you see the word that almost sends you into a coma.

Read 2:34 am

TODAY

Christmas was your favorite time, because both you and Harry returned to where you met when you were kids, but this year, your little trick ruined it all.

Harry hasn’t replied to your voice messages, not even to the text you sent him in the morning, trying your best to put out the fire you just lit.

Y/N: I can explain this, Harry. I got drunk, I didn’t know what I was talking, it was all just an accident! Can we pretend I didn’t send those messages? Please???

You guess his silence is a reply too, not the one you wanted though.

Now you’re locked up in your old room as you hear your mom greeting her friends for her usual Christmas party she holds every year. Normally you’d be down there, sipping on some wine, mingling, but this year, you might not even show your face.

Not when you know Harry could be already down there.

Maybe he is not coming. Maybe he was so traumatized by your voice messages that he will never ever want to see or talk to you. If that’s the case, you’ll probably die, because he is your best friend, but facing him right now also makes you want to vanish from this world.

You fucked yourself over. Big time.

“Y/N?” you hear a knock on the door from your mom as you’re anxiously pacing the floor. She opens the door and stands with her hands on her hips. “Stop acting like a baby and come down, will you?”

“Is he here?”

“No, Anne came alone,” she sighs.

At first you’re relieved. But then you realize that he might actually never want to talk to you again because of those stupid messages and that feels way worse.

Unwillingly, you join the party downstairs, but you try to avoid Anne. She is so close to Harry, there’s a chance he told her what happened and there’s no way you can look into her eyes after that.

It’s probably not the best idea, but you have some wine that makes you dizzy and you get into a spiral about Harry.

Why didn’t he reply to your messages? He could have at least reacted or told you it’s better if you never talk. You’ve known him for so long, it’s the least you deserve. Is he home alone now? He would rather stay back than to face you? Is this really the end of your friendship?

“Oh fuck,” you mumble under your breath as you decide it’s time to slow down on the alcohol, since it’s what got you in trouble in the first place, so put your glass into the dishwasher.

“Everything alright?”

Anne’s voice makes you jump and you’re met with her warm smile when you turn around.

“Yeah!” you squeak. “Everything is… perfect!”

She’s come to get a refill and you watch her as if she was a ticking bomb. But she is her usual self, there’s no sign of pity towards you, so there’s a chance she doesn’t know what happened between you and Harry.

“Where… Where’s Harry?” you ask, trying your best not to sound like an obsessed psycho.

“Oh, he had a meeting or whatever. He said he’ll come right over when he’s done, but maybe he got stuck in front of his laptop,” she chuckles. “I’m sure he’ll be here soon, don’t worry,” she pats your hand before walking out of the kitchen.

From that moment, your stomach drops every time you hear the front door opening, thinking it’s Harry, but as two hours pass by you start to think that he won’t come. You keep checking your phone, hoping for a message, but only seeing your pathetic last text every time you open the thread is like a slap across your face.

You really messed up because you were drunk and you outed yourself in such a ridiculous way. Now your best friend doesn’t even want to see you.

The party comes to its end, the house empties out and you get into a lethargic mood as you help your mom clean up.

“Why don’t you just go over and talk to him, hm?” she asks seeing your bitter face.

“It’s pretty obvious he doesn’t want to talk,” is all you say.

You lock yourself up in your room for the rest of the night, acting like a heartbroken teenager. You can’t believe this is how you lose Harry, your best friend, the boy you grew up with and the only man you ever truly loved.

It’s sometime past ten when you hear knocking. On your window.

“What the—“

As you sit up and walk over to the window you almost get a heart attack when you see Harry squatting in front of your window that’s right above the garage. Growing up it gave you the perfect opportunity to sneak out, because you could easily climb out without your mom noticing and Harry also used it as his entrance quite a few times. But now as you see the grown version of him there, your mind goes blank as you open the window.

“What… Harry, what are you doing?” you ask as he gestures at you to step back so he can climb in.

“God, this went easier when I was fifteen,” he chuckles when he is finally standing in your room.

“Harry, would you mind explaining why you didn’t use the front door?” you ask, folding your arms over your chest.

“Because your mum is probably asleep and I didn’t want to wake her.”

“Why didn’t you come in the morning then?”

“Because I wanted to talk,” he replies with a smug grin.

It’s odd to see grown Harry in your old room, you have tons of memories with him from when you were kids, but he is a man now, a tall, ridiculously good-looking man in your room that still has your old posters on the yellow walls.

“Talk?” you squeak, anxiety creeping up its way on your spine again.

“Mhm, about your messages. Remember them?” he asks and while you’re debating whether you should jump out the window or play dead, he is smirking at you as if it was all just a joke to him.

“I do,” you nod shortly.

“Anything to add to them?”

“Nope,” you say, but then change your mind. “Actually, I do have something to add.”

“Okay, go on, I’m listening,” he nods, still grinning as he leans against your dresser.

“Leaving me on read was rude. I might have sent you some unhinged, unexpected messages, but I apologized in the morning and you left me on read! And then you didn’t show up at the party, you made me think you never want to talk to me again. That was very rude.”

He stares back at you, his head tilted to the side and you feel the urge to hit him if he doesn’t wipe that smirk off of his face.

“I know. And I’m sorry for that,” he finally says. “But I felt like it’s not a conversation I want to have over text messages.

“Um, okay…”

Pushing himself away from the dresser he starts to approach you slowly while you’re backing at the same time, but the room is not too spacious, your back quickly hits the wall.

“The messages were unexpected,” he points out the obvious. “I have to say, when I listened to them in the middle of the night, I didn’t know what to think.”

“It was an accident, we got drunk and we were just messing around.”

“Clearly,” he chuckles. “So then… did you mean it?”

“What?”

“The things you said. That you’re madly in love with me and that you might end up dying alone if we don’t get together.”

Hearing the words from his mouth makes your head spin as you stare back at him on the verge of the biggest turning point of your friendship. For a moment you hesitate, consider saying it was just a joke, but you’re also too tired to keep it a secret any longer.

“Yes,” you finally say, your heart drumming in your ears.

He stares at you for what feels like forever, the corners of his mouth curling up and you see a little nod from him before he backs away from you so he’s not cornering you anymore.

“Good,” he then says and you wait for more, because that one word can’t be his reaction alone, he has to have more to say. But he remains silent, the smirk still plastered across his face and you finally lose your patience with him.

“Good? That’s really all you have to say? You know what? You’re an asshole! I might have sent you the most awkward and unhinged messages, but you left me on fuckin read and now all you say is good, but nothing is good! If this is just a joke to you, then maybe we—“

The words die on your tongue when his lips smash against yours, his hands locking your face in his palms as he kisses all your worries, fears and anxiety away. He pushes you against the wall again, his hips pressing against yours and you can’t hold a moan back when his tongue meets yours. Your head bumps against the light switch over and over again and it takes some time to realize that you keep turning the lights on and off in the room.

You grin against his lips and he keeps kissing them as you let out a laugh, your hands holding onto his slim waist.

“If you think…” he keeps kissing you, “That I’m done scolding you…” more kisses, “For leaving me on read… you’re wrong.”

“Scold me, punish me,” he chuckles, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Do whatever you want.”

“Naughty,” you giggle.

He kisses you some more before pulls back, a more serious look on his face.

“I’m sorry for leaving you on read, but I really wanted to see your pretty face when I tell you that I’ve been madly in love with you too.”

Your heart is about to burst out of your chest at his words, the pain you felt in the past week already long forgotten when you see how he is looking at you.

“You’re not just pulling my leg? It’s not just a Christmas prank, right?”

“No,” he chuckles. “I just can’t believe this is how it happened.”

“I’m never drinking again,” you groan, but he just kisses your cheek.

“It’s fine, you can always send me dirty voice messages,” he smirks playfully.

“You’ll never let me live it down, right?” you sigh and he shakes his head grinning.

“Nope.”

“Alright, then I will tease you about leaving me on read.”

“Tease me all you want, as long as I get to kiss you afterwards,” he mumbles as he leans closer, brushing his lips against yours teasingly before finally kissing you.

ONE YEAR LATER

There is not one finger Harry has free as he pushes his way into his home, dozens of shopping bags hanging from him everywhere. With a groan he kicks the front door closed behind him and drops everything to the floor, finally feeling his fingers again.

“Babe?” he calls you, a bit frustrated that you didn’t come out to the car to help him carry the bags in and he is way too proud to make two rounds, so he had to do it all at once, resulting in him becoming a Christmas tree himself.

He walks further into the home he’s been sharing with you this past six months, looking for your pretty face to ask what was so important that you couldn’t help him.

To be exact, you left him on read when he texted you that he’s arrived.

“Y/N?” he calls for you again and he finally hears your footsteps approaching from the bedroom. Moments later you appear in your silky robe, an oblivious smile on your face.

“Hey babe!” you greet him and he forces himself to ignore how deliciously cozy you look with your freshly washed hair, makeupless face and he can smell your lotion even from across the room.

“Why didn’t you come out to help me with the bags?” he huffs, pouting his lip as you approach him gracefully. “I texted you and you saw it!”

“Oh,” you breathe out furrowing your eyebrows. “You mean… I left you on read when I should have definitely replied? Hm, that sounds like something that happened before to us.” You tap on your chin, pretending to be thinking and he finally realizes what it’s about.

“Babe…” he groans, but a chuckle slips from his lips. “Am I still not forgiven for that?”

“Never,” you grin at him devilishly as you step closer, placing your hands to the base of his neck.

“This was rude, I had to carry all the stuff on my own!” he pouts his lips at you like a little kid, his hands finding your waist.

“Aw, I’m sorry. I was busy, actually, so I couldn’t help.”

“What was so important?” he asks, narrowing his eyes at you.

You step back, his hands slipping off your hips and you gift him with an angelic smile as you untie your robe and let it slide off your shoulders, revealing the sparkly red lingerie set you’re wearing underneath. Harry’s mouth hangs open instantly, his eyes roaming your body relentlessly.

“Is this a good enough excuse?” you ask, batting your eyes at him.

“Yeah, you’re forgiven!” he nods eagerly as he steps closer just to pick you up bridal style and he carries you back to the bedroom as you laugh, pressing kisses to his jawline, the grocery bags long forgotten in the hallway.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!