#wish they made him sing in this range more often because it's just so lovely to listen to
free if you truly wish to be: chapter iv
shit goes DOWN. as y'all have probably gathered. bc. yknow. the plot of the movie. but first there's a song yayyyyyyyyy
2023!wonka x oc, this chapter ~2.5k
god, i love musicals.
(edit: realized after posting that i was looking at the wrong page of the screenplay while writing this and therefore royally screwed up the song structure of a world of your own but it’s fiiiiiiine)
once again, thank you mat for that interview taking a typical one-dimensional dahl villain and letting him be a more complex character. also i should probably throw a content warning on this one for depiction of a slightly abusive relationship
but i promise everything's gonna be okay soon-happy new year everyone!!
part three fic masterlist part five
While going through a time of personal growth involving trying to unravel one’s identity from that of one’s rich and powerful husband, it often happens that there are advantages to said husband being wrapped in worry over a new business rival-and, therefore, spending far more time at the office.
Wren’s favorite advantage at the present moment was that she was the only one to watch the mail come in.
Deep purple stationery was the signal she looked for-and steadily received, then returned with her own emerald letters-every day. The notes included scrawled updates regarding the operation to allow the earnest young chocolatier his day in the sun, anecdotes about the group of launderers that supported it (who she’d snuck out to meet often enough that they now felt like a second family), tales of a mysterious orange man, and exchanges of advice, witticisms, and Shakespeare quotes.
The handwriting was inexperienced, and there were more than a fair share of spelling errors toward the start of their correspondence, but she didn’t care a whit.
We’ve got the shop, Willy had written one day. For now, the task is digging through its decrepit debris and designing its decoration. (The credit for those words goes to Noodle-she says hello.) There are so many possibilities, I barely know where to start.
Start with the “why”, Wren wrote back. That’s what I always do. If there’s a piece I’m struggling to sing and I lose motivation to practice, I go back to the reasons I love the piece, even all the way back to the reasons I love the arts in the first place. Maybe there’s something in there for your shop-what made you want to share your chocolate with the world? (And hello to you too, Noodle!)
My dear Wren, came the reply, you’ve just given me the best of ideas.
He told her then about his mother and the inspiration she provided. Wren would be lying if she’d said a tear hadn’t fallen onto that particular letter.
As for how to keep him safe from the Cartel, police, and every other corrupt authority, Wren did her part by becoming Florence again whenever necessary. She acted less suspicious around her husband, leading him to be less secretive-although the gain in information was miniscule, it was better than nothing.
Felix’s rages would range anywhere from tittering, jealous rants to scheming monologues during which his whole being seemed to take on a lower, darker, more calculating tone. She’d listen carefully to all of these, tactfully calling out anything that might get him to consider he was wrong, but that had little to no effect.
Plan B, then, she’d realized, is all I can do.
So, whenever Felix seemed particularly incensed or just on the verge of coming up with how to destroy his rival, Florence would swoop in with wine and dark lipstick and a low-cut dress. She’d endure being his caged pet songbird, his doll, his perfect plaything, only because she had the growing feeling that things were about to change.
If Willy’s shop becomes successful enough to be completely undeniable, maybe the Cartel will finally acknowledge him as an equal. Maybe I’ll finally be seen as an equal, too. Maybe things will finally be truly fine.
So, night after night, she’d sit on her husband’s lap, twirl his tie, and kiss his neck until he’d forgotten the name of Wonka.
The same could not be said for her.
~
Due to just how glamorized she always had to be while in public, it didn’t take much to come up with disguise enough to be able to visit the new shop on its opening day.
With a fluttering sense of hope, Wren approached the fourth building of the Galeries Gourmet, blending in seamlessly with the sea of soon-to-be-wonderstruck passers-by. She cast a few nervous glances to the window of the Fickelgruber office, at which the man stood in his usual stance. There was no chance, though, of his recognizing her trademark ginger flame amongst the crowd; it was safely tucked under a dark, low-brimmed hat.
This could have set her mind at ease, but the fact that he looked even more smug than usual as he surveyed the ground below him made her nervous.
Did they plan something?
She was distracted from this worry by a sudden flash of color at the long-empty shop’s door. Willy Wonka stepped through, looking more himself than she could have ever imagined. He addressed the crowd with a flourish, and she marveled at his ability to combine showmanship with authenticity.
He took a skeptical older man’s arm, leading him to the shop’s entrance, and began to sing.
All at once, the shop transformed before all of their eyes, flooding with color, and the music settled into a sparking pulse that thrilled Wren to the core.
Willy grinned, fully in his element, and the doorway went dark. Gloved hands presented chocolate wonders as their creator sang them into existence. When he lit a match, the store seemed to come alive, and Wren gasped.
If his letter was anything to go by, the sight he had created was an homage to his childhood on his mother’s boat, brought to life in a way nearly too beautiful to be true.
Willy and the other man danced up a bridge of sorts as his song continued, proudly offering his shop as a world for each of his customers to call their own. Overtaken and lifted by the enchanting environment, Wren squealed with the rest of the crowd and ran into the shop, ripping the hat from her head and allowing her auburn curls to tumble freely down.
She threw her head back and laughed aloud. Her lack of makeup, and plain blouse and skirt replacing the usual emerald-colored finery, gave her assurance that she wouldn’t be recognized here; this was the closest thing she’d experienced to liberation in a very long while, and she relished it, along with the sweetly simple soar of Willy’s voice across his song.
When she looked up at him again, he was sitting on the boat that floated on the circling chocolate river, and she noticed he’d already been staring with a sideways grin. As the bassline that came from nowhere launched into a rollicking chromatic vamp, he tipped his hat to her, and she gave an enamored wave.
The second verse passed, and suddenly he’d reached her, extending a hand which she took without a second thought. He helped her onto the boat, then pulled her alarmingly close, but before she could say a thing about it, a cloud of smoke appeared around them.
Wren blinked and realized that she and Willy were now at the base of the massive chocolate tree in the center of the shop.
“How did you-”
But he only smiled and started to dance his way up the tree.
“A world of your own,” he sang, then gestured an invitation straight towards her.
This’ll be easy enough, she thought, nearly bursting with joy.
“A place to escape to,” she continued, running farther up the tree to meet him in the middle. His expression filled with awe upon finally hearing her sing, and they began a whirling back-and-forth.
“A world of your own-”
“-where you can be free!”
“Wherever you go, wherever life takes you…”
“This is your home,” she sang to him, twirling herself into his arms and beaming with pride. He’s found it-he’s created it.
“A world of your own,” they finished. He looked at her for a moment, seeming struck, then kissed her hand and disappeared through the branches of the tree to continue with the song’s bridge. She let out a dazed and happy breath, taking a moment to let her gaze roam the shop from her perch in the chocolate tree.
She didn’t know what would happen next, but she’d be damned if she wouldn’t let herself enjoy this moment.
~
What did happen next was…as an understatement, not what any of them had hoped.
She wished she could say it was a complete surprise, and she wished she could have done more to stop it. The candy started having disastrous effects, the customers understandably balked, and it was clearly not Willy’s fault in the least. In a blur, the shop was in ruins, and Wren sat in shock with the little group who’d worked so hard to make it magical.
The candyman himself was devastated; not just by the massive setback, but by the absence of his mother’s spirit. Wren and Noodle sat by his side, but Abacus ushered them up. It broke Wren’s heart to think of leaving him like this-if the truest and most trusting dreamer on Earth can be broken down, where’s the hope for the rest of us?-but she somehow still felt she had to follow the group out.
She felt a hug around her waist and a held-back sob, and looked down to see Noodle clinging onto her. Wren immediately knelt to her level and hugged the girl close, finding it hard now to keep back her own tears.
“Terrible shame what-”
“Florence?”
Slowly, she opened her eyes, her breath dropping to the floor.
Slugworth had spoken first, a smooth and practiced opening to what would have turned into a gloat. The voice that had interrupted him was genuinely shaken and clearly belonging to her husband.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered to Noodle, who nodded. “You can go, you shouldn’t have to see this-”
“Florence,” his voice came again, at a loss. She took a breath, stood up, and faced him with tears in her voice.
“Hi, Felix.”
Silence.
Slugworth looked with growing puzzlement between the woman and the girl, and Felix could only stare at his wife with dawning realization.
“You’ve been working with him,” he said simply, every usual quirk of inflection having vanished.
For a moment, the wash crew surrounded her in an attempt at a shield, and she heaved a breath to keep back a sob-of fear, of gratefulness for these friends that had become family over the past weeks, of everything suddenly crashing down.
“I’ll be okay,” she said quietly to the wash crew and perhaps to myself. “You all should go. Like you were going to. I’m sorry.”
They didn’t move.
She looked at Piper, whose worried hand was on her arm. There was an unspoken vow of protection between the women in that moment, but Wren’s eyes pleaded, so Piper nodded sadly, took Noodle’s hand, and the group left.
Wren was almost afraid to look at Willy, but she did; the boy was staring at the old chocolate bar in his hands, looking as if he could barely process a thing.
The sympathy in her gaze must have been far too obvious, because she suddenly heard footsteps, felt a hard grip on her wrist, and gasped in pain as it was yanked up and backwards.
“Darling,” Felix hissed with a sinister edge, though his voice was breaking, “I don’t know how or why this betrayal-”
“Betrayal?” she finally cried out, breaking free from his grasp as Willy rushed between them. “You lot have just poisoned dozens of innocent people, all for a business rivalry, and I won’t-”
“If you want your family not to starve, you had better lower your voice,” he barked.
Every speck of air seemed to leave the room.
“...My family?”
“I may have been distracted enough for the past weeks to ignore the mail that came in and out of our house, but I had not always been that blind. I thought your compassion to be an incomprehensible gesture, but I let it slide. When I felt like it.”
…They haven’t gotten everything I’ve sent.
They haven’t-
“In fact,” he continued, “it served as what was almost a pleasant reminder of the truth. For your family, for your stupid dream, and for your sweetly dependent soul-you need me.”
“If you knew I was poor, why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because it’s the same way for me!”
This was the peak of what had been a building explosion, and this was the moment in which they both remembered there were other people in the room.
“What?” the four besides him breathed, almost in unison.
“Oh, you heard right,” Felix launched into speech, the characteristic gestures starting to work their way back into him. “I came from nearly nothing, just the same. But I did what I had to do to climb to the top. I cast them all away, left my old life behind completely, and I suppose it was a foolish hope to think my wife would do the same. But she-but you-you are nothing but a guileless, deceitful bleeding heart.”
“I…”
Tears blurred her vision.
“I am…genuinely sorry that you felt you had to hide your past, but that doesn’t excuse trying to make the rest of the world match your insecurity and fit your little chocolate mold. And if that makes me a bleeding heart…I’m proud of the title.”
For a moment, the man looked as if he would allow his wife’s words to affect him.
Then his face, normally so expressive, turned completely cold.
She’d lost him.
She’d never truly had him to lose.
But she looked at Willy, and she thought of the wash crew, and she realized she finally had a truer support system. And if she could try to start over, find some other way to earn money to send to her family without interception, and some other way to reach the dreams that felt so far away at the moment, she knew Felix would be wrong: she didn’t need him.
After a long silence, Slugworth cleared his throat.
“Get her out of here. We have business with Mr. Wonka.”
What?
Her and the younger man’s eyes widened, and they grabbed each other’s hands on instinct, but a small number of policemen came around the corner of the shop door at Slugworth’s order. They clamped hands on her shoulders and dragged her away from Willy as the Cartel stood silently and watched.
“Wait-wait, no, I-”
“Wren-”
She struggled, fought, kicked, but was forced into the backseat of a police car-
“Let me go, you corrupt bastards-”
“Wren-”
“Let me-”
“Just drop her somewhere in town,” Felix said coolly. “Somewhere that isn’t my home.”
“WREN!”
The car door was slammed, and the last thing she saw was the Cartel advancing on a dazed Willy, opening a suitcase of cash.
All she could do was scream, and the scream turned into a cry.
They did indeed drop her somewhere. She burst out of the car the second it had stopped, and the officers drove away without a word.
Sick with worry and trying to regain her breath, she looked around, almost fainting with relief when she saw the laundry building. Piper, having heard the commotion, stood outside, and they looked at each other for a moment before Wren fell sobbing into her arms.
This is not over.
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Now please allow me to sing this movie's praises.
First, I love a sequel that knows its a sequel. It didn't try to outdo Enchanted at all. I think that "That's How You Know" is THE song from Enchanted and Robert and Giselle dancing at the ball is THE scene. None of the songs tried to be That's How You Know, or be better. They never tried to do a better dance scene. There was the adorable little slow dance at the very end but it was more in honor of the original. Everything was in honor of the original. They respected it and added onto the story in a way that made sense and was good. It was so good.
All of the old disney easter eggs got me they really did!!! We love easter eggs.
The plot as a whole was just!!!!! So good!!!!!! I love that Giselle's life wasn't bad, she just had struggles that she never would have had in Andalasia. And I also love that even though Morgan's teenager-ness was the catalyst for the conflict, she wasn't villainized for it. Giselle didn't resent her for it, she just wanted to understand and help. She wasn't "fixed" at the end. She was still a teenager, still a little snippy, she's still gonna be embarrassed by Giselle sometimes, but that's ok. And Giselle understands her better now. Her whole relationship with Morgan was beautiful. The way she was just so desperate to help, how Morgan was declared a true Andalasian daughter because she's Giselle's daughter. Morgan calling Giselle "mom" really got to me. The fact that her saying "she's my stepmother" has the power to make Giselle that upset just shows how good of a mom she is!!!! That entire dynamic was just. More than I could have asked for.
Speaking of dynamics!! Giselle and Nancy girlbossing together. Amazing. Edward trying to help Robert. Adorable. I love how Giselle and Nancy basically switching roles made them able to understand each other so well. The fact that Nancy is the one dealing with hobgoblins on a daily basis now but she can still give Giselle teenager advice. I love it. Nancy and Edward on their own were amazing as well!!!!! Big fan of them not having kids. Big fan of Edward being the largest himbo to exist even after all these years. Big fan of him sword fighting with the kids at the end. Big fan of him saying "that's all it [the wishing plate] does, we're fairly certain?" Big fan of Nancy's wardrobe. Big fan of them being Sofia's godparents. Big fan of the implication that they visit pretty often. Big fan of them <3
The Giselle and Robert content, while perhaps a bit more sparce than I may have hoped for, was just UGSFJHSDBHGBVOUBGABVSDAU. Perfect. The way he looks at her??? Kill me. I love how he loves her singing now. When he was watching her dance around the house in the beginning and when he was smiling when she started singing again that night OH MY GOD I LOVE HIM I LOVE THEM. The kiss at the end. Actually. Every kiss. They kiss and I cry it's very simple. The glimpse of the wedding oh my god??? When you can hear Robert's voice say "I do" and "You'll always be a princess to me" when Giselle's getting the memories back I DIED. And I choose to believe the princess line was a part of his vows. Yeah.
The soundtrack was great. Badder is my favorite at the moment lol. Speaking of, Amy Adams' range???? I mean I knew she had it but Giselle slowly becoming a villain was so satisfying to watch. I loved when she was talking to herself sdfbsdjf she's so funny. The humor all around was great too!
That's all I got for now. I'm sure more will come to me. Overall i really loved the movie and im really happy with how they handled it and seeing Giselle and Robert again in the year 2022 was desperately needed for my mental health. thank you.
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Random Lost Light Headcanons (that absolutely no one asked for):
I wish we had more Lost Light content because I absolutely love it all and as much as I love the crazy stuff they get up to, I want to see more of the little things about the ship and its crew. Enjoy some of the things that are totally canon and totally real and happened in real life that- Oh? Where did I get this information form? Well, you see, it’s from this funny little source called because I said so, so actually… can’t argue with science.
Everyone expects Magnus to have super loud dad sneezes since he's got the deep, commanding voice and all thought, but he actually has baby sneezes and it's the cutest sneeze anyone has ever heard. Magnus tries his best not to sneeze in public because of this. He sneezed once at a command meeting and Rodimus made fun of him for it for the rest of the meeting (Megatron was smiling but trying very hard to hide it because he wasn't about to admit that he thought it was really cute).
Rodimus has a list of all the members of the crew that he has fucked and has everyone ranked on how good of a fuck they were. Whirl and Getaway are at the bottom of this list while Megatron and Brainstorm are tied for first place (no there will not be an explanation for why Brainstorm is at the top). Ratchet is a close second.
One of the Lost Light's storage rooms was emptied and reformated into a weapons and inventions testing room for Perceptor and Brainstorm after one of Brainstorm's creations started a fire and nearly took out the lab and all of the rooms surrounding it.
Minimus sleeps best in his turbofox alt mode, but rarely ever does so, instead sleeping in his armor so he's prepared to deal with whatever problem Rodimus calls him to deal with in the middle of the night. He sleeps easy when Megatron has the night shift.
Perceptor stole one of Brainstorm's mini microscope models of himself and now keeps it as decoration. Brainstorm's distress over it has been keeping him entertained for days now.
Brainstorm knows Perceptor took one of his microscope models, but he keeps pretending like he has no idea who took it because it means he gets to see the sheepish grin that Perceptor tries to hide every day.
Blaster and Soundwave FaceTime each other just to say that they hate the other. Ravage and Blaster's cassettes sometimes join the call to say hi to Soundwave's cassettes.
Rodimus can actually sing really well, he just acts like he can't at karaoke nights because he hates singing in front of other people, even though he has absolutely no problem giving speeches for a crowd.
The Lost Light has a shooting range and the people that are there the most are Whirl and Perceptor. Every single one of the record boards in the range has Percy's name at the top of it, but he and Whirl still have this unspoken competition going on. No one uses the range if either of them is there because they don't want to get involved (they also don't want to 'accidentally' get shot by Whirl, but that's beside the point).
OUTLIER RODIMUS!!!!!! I will die on this hill (I mean, I know technically everyone on the LL is an outlier, but he should've been one before that). I think he should get to be an outlier and his ability to literally light himself on fire shouldn't be just a mod. It's what he deserves.
Ravage and Minimus friendship please and thank you. Just Ravage telling Minimus that he shouldn't be ashamed of his alt mode and teaching him how to fight in his alt mode so he never has to be worried about being defenseless without his armor.
Swerve can bake. Really well, too. He doesn't do it too often though because he can't eat everything he makes by himself and he never knows who to give extras to. Sometimes he offers treats that he's baked a the bar, though.
Megatron and Ultra Magnus have their morning energon on the bridge together while they place bets (not with actual money, of course, that wouldn't be very professional) on which rules Rodimus is going to go about breaking throughout the day. They also bet on whether or not Roddy's going to say 'til all are one' or not within the first 10 minutes of his shift.
Ravage and Megatron sharing the hot goss before they go to bed. No further explanation necessary.
Rodimus talks to his friends like a gen z sibling, calling them names like loser, butthead, subpar subway sandwich, poop sock, dookle, and many more. Roddy uses them all affectionately, of course, but if Megatron gets called 'ass wheel' or 'crusty musty' again, then he might actually throw himself out of the airlock.
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RECIPE; Struggling to follow a recipe. for Ray Molina because Ray I love you but your spaghetti.... it looked so sad.... Ray please go on pinterest.
Ray would be the first to admit that cooking was not his strong suit. He could do a decent breakfast, or something out of a can easy enough, but otherwise he wasn't exactly a deft hand in the kitchen. Rose was much better, able to whip up a gourmet meal with little trouble, from traditional Puerto Rican dishes she learned from her mom to simple things like the most delicious grilled cheese.
She tried to teach him a few things, and he made a decent sous-chef it turned out. Though maybe that was because Rose offered him kisses for every step he completed correctly. In the end he expanded his repertoire to make spaghetti somewhat okay, and a few new egg dishes.
But now Rose was gone, and Victoria couldn't come by and cook for them every night. Sure, she often made enough to last them, but Ray knew he couldn't rely on his sister-in-laws charity forever.
Thus, armed with a simple recipe, all the supplies he needed, and lots of time with which to work, he figured he would be okay.
He looked at the recipe. Okay, he needed to pre-heat the oven to 400, and it would take just about an hour to cook. He'd already learned the hard way that increasing the temperature to cut down the cooking time was a bad idea, so he stayed the course.
Next he was supposed to set a pot of heavily salted water to boil. Wait, what did they mean by 'heavily' salted? More than a pinch, obviously, but did that mean a teaspoon? A cup? He figured maybe a tablespoon would be enough, and set the water on the range, hoping the water was salty enough.
Then things started to get dicey. He wasn't sure how fine a minced onion was supposed to be, nor how on earth to make a roux. And how the hell did one 'fold in' cheese?
He checked the pot of water and it didn't seem to be anywhere close to a simmer. The burner was on, so why was it not working? Consulting the recipe he banged his forehead with his palm. He was supposed to heavily salt the water after boiling it, to add flavour to the pasta!
He sighed, and started again.
The next pot came to a boil much quicker and he added the pasta and salt, along with a healthy glug of oil, since that's what he always saw the chefs on TV do.
His sauce was thick and starting to bubble, but when he tried it all he could taste was flour. He went back and carefully grated even more cheese-look the box grater and him were not friends, so he'd learned his lesson after flaying half his knuckles the first time.
Finally the sauce tasted vaguely cheesy, though it was almost too thick to be considered a sauce, so he kept adding milk, flour, and cheese until he achieve a balance he was happy with. Sure it almost reached the top of the pot, but he liked his pasta super saucy, so he figured that was fine. Even if he was sure he had failed to 'fold' the cheese in properly.
He drained the pasta, and was happy to report that it didn't taste like ocean water, so he considered that a success. Even if it had take twice as long due to his struggles earlier.
Finally the dish was ready for the oven, and Ray checked his recipe. Pasta, check. Sauce, check. Meat...
Oh darn, Ray had forgotten to cook the meat!
He looked at the diced ham, and sighed, knowing it was too late to add it in now, and put it back in the fridge, also noticing the onion he had meant to saute in the sauce.
He'd ask where his head was, but he knew the answer would be where it usually was-on top of his shoulders. Ah, dad humour.
He slid the dish into the oven, set the timer (and triple checked he did that right before turning to tackle the mountain of dishes he had created. This he could do, not minding the peace in scrubbing and suds, letting his mind wander and enjoy some quiet contemplation as he did every time he stood at this sink.
Even if wished he had Rose singing around the kitchen as she cooked while he washed. He still had some recordings of her, but it just wasn't the same.
"Hey papi!" Julie called as she entered the house, tossing her book bag to the side. "Smells good in here, did tia drop off something new?"
"Yeah, I thought she had that Pilates retreat and was gone all week," Carlos remarked, not even looking up from his phone.
"She is, I cooked,' Ray replied, pride evident in his voice. But that didn't mean he failed to see the looks his children gave each other. "What? I'm not that bad am I?"
"You only ever cook spaghetti," Carlos said. "And I see no spaghetti."
"Did you at least follow a recipe?" Julie asked. "Because I remember the last time you just threw stuff together and nearly killed us all."
Ray scowled and rolled his eyes at his kids. "I do know how to make more than spaghetti you know."
"So what's for supper then?" Carlos asked, finally putting down his game.
"Mac & cheese!" Ray replied, and saw the look again. "I know another pasta dish probably isn't very creative, but it's warm and nourishing, and simple. I can handle simple."
"Papi," Carlos said. "I love you, but simple is remembering where your keys are. Something you consistently fail at."
"And keeping track of your phone," Julie added. "But I'm hungry, so I will at least try it. And if it's awful, we get a pizza, deal?"
"Deal," Ray replied. Look, he wasn't super confident in his ability, and he didn't have enough pride to swallow down food he made if it was terrible. He'd gladly fork over the $20 he needed for a pizza rather than poison his children.
But it turned out, the food was really good, both Julie and Carlos commenting on it. "Well you don't need to sound so surprised," Ray grumbled before shovelling another forkful into his mouth. Even without the ham and onions, this was a pretty darn good macaroni and cheese, he did have to admit.
He wondered if maybe next time... he should attempt a chicken?
Only next time, Julie shyly offered to help him, and it was a really nice bonding experience. Even more so when he got to help Carlos tease her later about inviting a certain green eyed bassist over to eat with them.
So no, Ray Molina would never be a top chef. But he was sure he had the recipe for a good family right there in the making.
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humbly asks your for your geara hc.......
MEL U A REAL ONE !!!! 🙏 🙏 OKOK HERE GOES.
headcanons for my favorite little emo beast! [ DOES A SPIN ]
MY (VERY LONG) ANSWER IS RIGHT BELOW...
Sexuality Headcanon: You take one look at this man and tell me with the straightest face you can possibly muster: “Geara isn’t gay. He’s not into men.” This motherfucker wears eyeliner, has the full MCR fit, constantly talks about Zetta in ways other men in-game have not, he literally SENT Giratina to Zetta on Terajuma Island so he could pick him up like a prom date. THIS MAN??? 🌈🌈 WOULD KISS ANOTHER MAN. AND WOULD ENJOY IT. CHECKMATE BITCHES.
Gender Headcanon: He is the most cis-acting motherfucker ever and yet they are, simultaneously, one of the most trans-looking characters too. Truly a paradox!
AMAB. Transmasc as fuck. But DEFINITELY nonbinary. This guy screams “He/They.” Madame X gives her gayest battles (Valor Mt) to her trans-est soldiers.
A ship I have with said character: Valorshipping VALORSHIPPING VALORSHIPPING V A LOR SHIPPGINGF VALORSHIPGFGFMGHMHG ZETTA X GEARA!!!!! AAAAAAAA UAUA UA GH HG UAUGJJF J GFHGFH GH RGUUHHUGR
( In other words they are SO much to go into, narratively-speaking, and I can’t get all of my words out here but just know I’ve been unabashedly autistic about their dynamic since December/January of this year. GODDD. )
A BROTP I have with said character: I’ve NEVER played Insurgence in my life but I know for a FACT that Zenith and Geara would be best friends/brothers. But I’d also say that it’s probably a good thing they’re in separate games... I can only imagine the opposite, honestly. And what I imagine is pure hellfire. Don’t put these two in a room together they’ll probably bond over their sick-ass legendaries they’re weirdly religious about; explosives and hating children. And dick jokes.
Madelis + Eli are also characters I’d say have a funny dynamic with him... Eli in previous versions used to interact w/ Geara and Geara would treat him with more respect than Sharon so SDHGJFGH that’s definitely something I think about often!
A NOTP I have with said character: Honestly any ship that involves him and a woman. Not only because he’s straight as a swirly straw but because I personally think she could do way better. I think every single girl forced to look at him at least once in their lives deserves financial compensation. Sariah I’m giving you all the therapy money you need once you grow up and have to confront your previously poor taste 🙏
A random headcanon: HEADCANON SPEED-ROUND! 🎇 (woo!)
Geara wears so many cosmetics it’s insane. Earrings, eyeliner, foundation, hair gel, dude definitely uses a hair ironer, SOOO much cologne THIS GUY STINKS, aaand glitter. He puts glitter in his hair, yes. He claims it’s the manliest shit ever.
He enjoys EVERY single Ghost Pokemon. All of them. Not a single one he dislikes. Ask him if he hates one and he’ll punch you in the face and spit on you.
He smokes. Why? Because he thinks it makes him look cool.
He owns a bass guitar, and it sits right in his room! Does he know how to play it? No. He owns it because it makes him look cool... Or so he believes.
He is 5′0′‘. He’s so short you could pick him up.
And finally... He’s actually an AMAZING singer. I’d compare his vocal range to that of Devin Townsend’s. Operatic, can hold notes -- but can also SCREAM like he’s in a metal song. His voice is relatively deep too, so he surprisingly has a pretty silky singing voice! Will he ever sing? No. That’s embarrassing.
General Opinion over said character: i kinda think i’m in love with him but i also wish he’d die
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it's probably also because of grieving. i lost my grandfather nearly a month ago and he was my everything, so it's a little hard to keep going forward nowadays, but i'm trying my best❤️ but thank you for wishing me luck on my other exams, i really appreciate that. i only have two more left!! i was really thankful to only get 3 exams this semester since the usual load is 5-7💀
the huskiness in beomgyu's voice is something i don't think i've heard before in kpop and it's always drawn me in. i love all of txt's vocals, they're all so beautiful in their own way and style, but beomgyu's have always stood out to me and will always be my favorite❤️ but fr his range is insane this album - he was the one switching most often from his lower register to falsetto within the same line and his transition was so seamless like wow. it's insane how good his vocal tone and texture is, especially during the high pitch parts where he still manages to remain so airy without straining. but omg when he was performing farewell neverland i could literally feel all of the emotions pouring out with each word he sang, he's just such an amazing performer.
pls soobin is so cute and the yellow sweater made him look like a ball of sunshine. i love him sm he's so 🥺🥺🥺
you could tell hueningkai was definitely in his zone, enjoying the whole ride (badum tsssss). you can easily tell he always gives it his all and these two performances were no different. he has such a beautiful voice too and his ability to always sing so full of emotion and power never fails to surprise me. he's such a good vocalist and i wish people recognized that more🥺
soobin's and beomgyu's voices go so well together and i think it might have to do something with the fact that their tones are slightly similar. i just absolutely loved hearing their verses one after the other in farewell neverland and that bridge HONESTLY. i have ascended yet again🥺
omg yes, it's exactly that tonality that's so pleasing to the ears and also very unique! girl, i swear, when taehyun sings, he sings with his whole soul and you can most certainly feel it. he's such an amazing vocalist with such a good range (i think he's a baritone, but he's proven more than once that his range extends to tenor ones) and the raspiness adds to the charm of his vocals🥺
this comeback truly proved just how much they've grown these past few years and how there's no concept they can't embody. the amount of content we got this comeback with the shows and interviews was the most i think it's ever been and i enjoyed every second of it. i especially love seeing them go on variety shows🥺 they're honestly so funny and i love seeing them interact with the staff as well, it's always so sweet❤️ i can't believe it's already been four years though, how does time fly by so fast😭
thank you bestie omg, i'll join u in manifesting that🥺❤️
I'm so sorry to hear that, april, I know how difficult that can be losing a grandparent, but take every little day as a small step.
as for exams, that's actually pretty good that you've only got 3 instead of your typical 5-7 exams. it'll go by quick and update me on those when they're done!!
literally so true, I love how unique their voices are. and they're progressing too! or even so just starting to show us what they're capable of doing!! I'm always going to be excited for their future albums, even their songs for OSTs. of course their voices always exceeds our expectations, we can never expect less from them, truly.
they are so precious when they're on variety shows, and it just shows how much effort they put into these things. it's one thing to be respectful to hosts, it's another to be able to take up a challenge and be a good sport during the show. and it's never a dull moment with them too :<
the fact that their anniversary is next week is genuinely scary omfg but I'm happy knowing how much the fandom has grown and they very much deserve it <3
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wwdits s4 thoughts (spoilers)
I didn’t start till October so I knew some stuff through my dash, very glad I saw the post where the interviewers said Guillermo and Nador wouldn’t get together to set my expectations after OFMD
The djinn is a really fun character
Glad The Guide is more of a main character the series needed another female character.
Marhwa is one of the most sympathetic characters in the show, peak she deserves better than this dude
I saw that Guillermo embezzles from the club in a LOT of posts because it was cute to see him take care of his parents. But it’s still heavily implied from this early ep.
The season is really clear in setting up each character's motivation and character arc.
Nadja’s arc has been my favorite. Lmao to the way she said “kill them all” to solve her workers unionizing.
Lazlo’s struggles of fatherhood where he’s a bad dad in different ways has been my least favorite. But then again I don’t want kids so I’m not interested in parenting subplots.
Guillermo FaceTiming someone twice is notable, only people he pays this much attention to outside of the vamps and family is a potential victim. But this is a very different vibe
Nador vs Guillermo fight is even more tense and charged than last season. Even after rewatching I'm confused at what parts of the fight they were staging for escape versus actually into beating the other
Nadja union busting through narcotic bribery, Nadja’s always been a fuck you got mine "girlboss", especially when her power is being challenged. Nice that it didn't work, workers unite!
The parent interview was just too much cringe comedy for me
Love Guillermo’s jewel tone jacket outfit. Hope there's a post that points out all the designer items
Wedding episode had an ad that I noted down since I was watching ad-free. Clever trick it was for the go flip yourself tv show in universe.
Everyone looks so nice in their wedding outfits. Costuming in this show has always been great and its easy to overlook it
I was trying to pin why Guillermo seems so different this season, and I really think it is that he found confidence and is less desperate . Other characters are respecting him more too.
Nandor made peak cursed wish with “like the same things I like” I was confused until the end of the season if he immediately wasted 2/3 wishes instead of fixing that wish since he obviously seemed so uncomfortable with it
“Because I’m gay” holy shit! Such an emotional moment, yeah the family always knew but still it’s such an impactful moment. The show has had a range of queer characters but it's often more played for laughs while this is more heartfelt. I'm old enough it's also a brief moment of "wow things have come so far"
Lmao at the cliche home renovation episode, I love when a tv show adopts the visual style of another genre of show (like Leverage "The office job"). I deeply enjoy home renovation shows, good or bad they're only reality tv I enjoy. I think it's my favorite episode in the show, and I genuinely wasn't expecting Simon the Devious.
Maybe because I am watching these all at once that the heavy parody parts of each episode stick out. Guillermo being the overworked friend planning the wedding is a romcom classing. The Baron doing the cliche makeover montage.
Wow so Freddie gave the business card as if he's trying to buy valuable antiques from someone he thinks is senile, and Nador is fine cheating and being a home wrecker to meet up. hmm
Wait Marhwa ends that episode overwritten and basically dead in body and mind?! Freddie is a cheater! I feel really bad for Guillermo, ESH but him
Holy shit sunrise and sunset the song from Fiddler. As a theater nerd I know this ep is going to be sad also wow Matt berry can sing
Colin feeding on anger makes sense, I though he was being annoying at times but chalked that up to finding all kids annoying, but you can farm a lot of anger as an annoying kid.
Classic that Nadja got so proud her arrogance led to the club's downfall. Very short-sighted she didn't take the money out before the arson for insurance fraud.
Colin back to himself with no memory nothing changed. Hmm did the experience of being a parent change Lazlo?
Guillermo spent a year of his life devoted to things that as he put it didnt change. The reasons he gave in first episode for not walking out didn't amount to anything in the end
GUILLERMO BUYING HIS WAY INTO VAMPRIISM FUCK YEAH. he's really changed since season 1. The chorus ending is pretty great.
I’d rate it 2nd best season behind last season, major points lost because I liked Marhwa and I’m sad what happens to her. I'm not judging Nandor's actions this season as morally "worse" than the others, but being shitty to your SO is more relatable and personal.
Wow for the first time I’m interested in fanfic for this show starting with “different choices canon divergence” au and “picks up right where season ended” since next season will prob start with a timeskip.
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This is a short story I had to write for a personal response to text for English (well I got to decide between an essay or not so I chose short story). It’s a story I completely made up based off of the picture above ‘Like Son’ by Robert Gawthmey. I wanted to share it :)
I also listened to this song over a few times while writing if y’all wanted to listen to it while reading
Warning: mentions of a passed parent if that is a hard subject for you
Why can’t you hear me?
Deafening silence filled my father’s study as he shrunk down in his seat. He knew I was right, he knew what he’s done, my father was merely oblivious to it and I finally had the courage to speak up. It took him 7 weeks, almost two whole months, for him to recognize how broken I was too, he wasn’t the only one who lost her, and it was only because I was sitting here now with hot tears running down my face begging for him to hear me. I couldn’t do this alone anymore, I’m not strong enough for this. Ever since the accident, the day our world came crashing down, my father had completely shut out everything and everyone, leaving me the weight of keeping it all together. That day turned into a nightmare that plays on repeat in my head, no matter how hard I try, it just won’t go away.
It was a calm Monday morning, I had woken up earlier than usual to watch the sunrise with my mother, it had become a weekly ritual she insisted we all do to welcome the new coming week. She always created an essence of beauty in everything she did, my father often stated it was one of the many reasons he fell in love with her. I remember this sunrise being one of the most colourful ones I ever witnessed. I looked over at my mother seeing a sparkle in her eyes as she watched the new day form in front of her, while my father took endless amounts of pictures to capture the moment so it would last forever. At the time, it hadn’t occurred to me just how special this moment really was, I was more focused on how tired I was. She left the house later that day to buy some groceries to make her favourite pot roast for dinner while father and I played a few rounds of cards. I had almost finally won a round when the house phone rang. The news I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.
Everything seemed to turn dark that day, we lost our light, how was I supposed to move on? There was no more joy in our household, her loud giggles wouldn’t be heard when my father came up with a terrible joke, I wouldn’t come home from school to hear her singing along softly to the radio, she wouldn’t be pulling me out of bed with a bright smile to welcome the new week anymore. Suddenly, all of those became past memories, it physically pained me to imagine any of it without her. It’s been almost two months, father lost his job, he only ever moves from his and mother’s bed to his study, otherwise I rarely saw him anymore. Most of the time I was alone, not a person to talk to. I'm sure my father has heard me crying myself to sleep some nights but chose to ignore it so he wouldn’t have to face it with me. He didn't even realize that I had been flunking in school either, I can’t remember the last time I showed up, I couldn’t, I had to take over at home because it was just us now. I got two part-time jobs while also balancing school work and grief. I taught myself how to do the taxes, I did the grocery shopping and the cleaning, I made sure my father and I got taken care of because if I didn't, who would? I was so exhausted and he was unbeknownst to it all, he had no clue of the stress he was putting me through. I've tried to talk to him but he just doesn’t hear me. He refused to do anything but dwell on something we have no control over anymore and the pressure was too much for me now. I missed my mother as well and I needed this man to be my father again. He sat there with guilt ridden all over his face, saying nothing, I don’t think he even knew what he could say after everything.
So here we are, sitting in our field on an early Monday morning, my father had walked into my room and insisted I get up with him. Tears pricked my eyes as we welcomed a new week into our lives. I couldn’t help but smile as I took in all the beautiful colours, the air falling to a peaceful silence as I looked over at my father who had that same sparkle in his eyes my mother once had. I understood him through the silence, it was going to be alright. He had finally heard me.
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harmless (xiii)
Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader)
Warnings: cursing, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, smidge of angst, guns, little bit of violence, obnoxious flirting, and kidnapping lol
Word count: 6.2k
A/N: welcome to chaos week >:) this is the first of three updates coming out this week (if i can finish the last one in time).
big thank you to my love @no-shit-sherl0ck for the kidnaped!reader idea, and that one anon who suggested the inator that’s used here. i know you wanted to see it in a zoo but i couldn’t really figure out a way to use that so i referenced it a bunch in previous chapters. oh and also @ginevranights for this specific imagery
Previous Part || Series Masterlist
Who the fuck kidnaps a villain in this day and age?
Saturday started normally enough.
Nat kicked Bucky’s ass in training, evening the score to 120 and 120. He blames it on the lack of sleep. She tells him that it’s his fault he stayed up late to binge watch 911 Lone Star.
He still thinks it was worth it.
The team’s sunshines and rainbows that morning. Someone had cooked up a batch of pancakes and fresh orange juice. Someone else burnt the bacon but left to feed his dog before anyone could complain.
Nat opened up the newspaper. Different sections went to different people until Bucky got stuck with the entertainment section. Fun, considering that he doesn’t even recognise half the names. He’d have to pretend to be interested until the next rotation.
He watches the orange juice levitate in front of him from the corner of his eye and just assumes that Wanda’s getting a refill even though she could have just asked him to pass it. He smells the next batch of bacon burning and figures that Clint is back.
Sam’s beside him, annoying him about how long it takes for him to read about which new celebrity relationship just ended and Bucky retaliates by reading even slower. Fuck you.
He’s on his second stack of pancakes absolutely drenched in maple syrup when the doors to the elevator open and Marie steps out, laptop in her hand.
An instant chorus of hello’s and invitations to have some charred bacon resound through the table. She politely declines them with a small smile, instead opening her laptop and placing it in front of Bucky without further ado.
He looks at her questioningly, slowly swallowing whatever was in his mouth.
“An email for you.” She tuts her head towards it. “It has a video attachment of your friend.”
Bucky has plans to not watch the video in front of everyone, given that the content could range anywhere from you reading out fanfiction about him to a deep-fake of him singing a Whitney Houston song.
Both of which you have done before and would do again, without any hesitation.
“Aren’t you gonna watch it?” Wanda asks from across the table.
He slowly shakes his head no, cutting his stack into smaller pieces.
“If what’s in it is real, it’s important,” Marie stresses.
“What’s in it?” he inquires instead, hoping that the team would stop staring at him. If Marie was implying strongly that he needed to watch then something was wrong.
“Just watch it, man.” Sam’s statement has everyone agreeing with him. Bucky can’t refuse now, and if the team makes fun of him for the next month about how he looks good belting Greatest Love of All, he’s going to personally assassinate you.
He clicks on the email, noticing it came from a throwaway address. Probably untraceable, if the cards are played right.
The video opens to grainy footage, which is stupid considering modern technological advancements. If this is one more of your stupid LARPing sessions, it could definitely wait till after lunch.
But, he instantly recognises your silhouette strapped to a chair and suddenly the room feels very cold around him. His hand automatically clutches onto a bead from the bracelet you gave him that still remained tied to his left arm more often than not.
“Speak,” someone commands off camera.
“About what?” You sound annoyed, exasperated even.
“Why you’re here.”
“I’m here because you have unaddressed feelings of childhood insecurity.”
“I warned you to take this seriously.”
Bucky’s eyes widen slightly but his body relaxes the minute he reads the situation.
The team’s crowded around him, he can feel it. His attention remains on the screen in front of him.
“Who even are you sending this to?” You don’t sound the least bit threatened. “My roommate’s not at home but my cat is and I don’t think she’d care.”
”You’ve made a complete joke out of villains everywhere. Fraternising with the enemies, the Avengers,” he spits the name with so much vitriol. “You’ve erased what it’s like to be truly evil. Turned us into a laughing stock.”
“If it takes one person to undermine your whole movement then maybe it wasn’t strong enough to begin with.” You look at someone outside the lens, face scrunching in distaste. “Also your costume’s ugly.”
“F.R.I.D.A.Y., can you trace this voice?” Bucky asks, receiving an immediate confirmation. “Figure out who it is.”
“On it.”
“Tell them. Tell them we are a serious threat and are to be feared.”
"No,” you say resolutely. “You’re an overgrown manchild. Go watch Teletubbies or something.”
“She does not give a shit,” Clint marvels at the situation, a piece of half eaten burnt toast between his fingers.
You didn’t. And if he knew you in the slightest, which he prided himself on at this point, you already had six different ways of getting out of there.
“She knows she’s going to be fine,” Bucky murmurs, returning back to take a bite of his pancakes. “She’s probably still there just to irritate him.”
He zeroes in on your wrist to see if the teleportation watch was still there but no, your wrists are bare. Guess you forgot.
“You have to.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s how a real villain does it.”
“A real villain- what are you, gatekeeping the villain community?” You scoff. “You sound like a fuckin’ incel.”
“Just send them a message,” the guy bellows, hitting a table.
“She’s going to frustrate them to death.” An accurate observation, Sam.
“Okay, jeez, fine.”
Bucky just knows that you rolled your eyes at that moment.
He had faith in you, or in your abilities at the very least. While every wisecrack could possibly inch you closer towards harm, you probably wouldn’t be making them unless you felt completely secure in your situation.
“Help, I’m totally kidnapped and in danger. Save me because I can’t do it myself. This man is too powerful and strong and sooo scary.”
“Do you think she has a strategy?”
“Definitely.”
“You’re not worried, James?” Wanda asks curiously. “I thought she was your friend.”
“She is my friend.” He reaches over to take the jug of orange from across the table. “That’s why I’m not worried.”
“Are you going to fight the Avengers?” you interrupt his endless tirade. “Because that’s a stupid plan. You get how that’s a stupid plan, right?”
“Let them come. I’m prepared.”
“With what? A stick you found outside? A Nerf gun? Man, you’ve tied my hands with fuckin’ zip ties, you can’t be serious-”
“Shut up,” he roared and the stand shakes slightly from where he stamps his feet. “Our army is enough.”
“Wow,” you exhale. “I wish I had your confidence, I really do. I want to study you under a microscope.”
“I have reinforcements.” It sounds like he turns to the camera to address it directly. “This is a warning. Your friends have an hour to find you or things are gonna turn ugly. This is what real evil looks like.”
“Evil dresses in a dollar store Speedo, apparently.” The man pays you no heed, instead picking up the camera. “Hey, sarge, if you’re watching this, don’t bother. I’m fine, it’s not even the real me-”
The camera cuts to black.
“When was this video sent?” Nat looks at Marie, eyebrows drawn together.
“About ten minutes ago.”
Bucky clicks out of the email, determined to get at least half his breakfast in him before he left to see what’s up with your situation. A notification pops up immediately.
A video attachment.
“We got another one,” Bucky informs the team, drawing their attention back to the screen from the informal conversation that had erupted between them about what they could do.
This time, there’s a subject line included.
Attack on the Clone.
"Ain’t that a Star Wars movie?" he asks, craning his neck to look at Clint.
"That's Attack of the Clones," Sam corrects. "Probably autocorrect."
Bucky narrowed his eyes in suspicion at him, jaw sliding outward before falling back into place. Enough times had Sam called him Fucky in the group chat and gotten away with it for him not to be wary.
“Or a code,” Wanda suggests, too many crime thrillers read and podcasts listened in her spare time. She occasionally brought them over to Self Care Saturday, introducing him to the world of true crime as a bit of light content while they snacked on chocolate chip cookies he baked. “Like the Zodiac.”
“For what?” Bucky peers over at her.
“All I remember from that movie is them rolling around a field together,” Clint mutters. “Maybe that’s how you’re supposed to save her.”
“I’m not saving anyone. Look at her, she’s fine.” Is he the only one who saw it?
When he’s met with skeptical looks and no other useful suggestions, he presses play on the video.
This time it's clearer footage. It hardly takes him a second to ascertain where
it was.
"That's her lair." It showed the pathway leading up to the flat concrete building, exactly where the intercom should be.
There was a black Sedan parked haphazardly outside, engine still on judging by the sound of the radio blasting an AC/DC song.
Within a few seconds, someone drags you from the entrance of the lair to the car, despite your very clear protests and opposition, shoving you inside before it takes off in full speed, tires screeching.
"F.R.I.D.A.Y., track the car from that video. Check all the CCTV and
surveillance footage from around the area that you can find," Bucky commands, taking a sip of orange juice.
"Why would they send us that?" Clint pipes up. "They make their email
untraceable but send us a video of the fuckin' abduction itself?"
"I don't know." Bucky shakes his head, setting his glass down. "She probably convinced them to."
It was an unusual scenario, he realised that. But his eyebrows lower in contemplation, his lip caged between his lip before a thought suddenly occurs to him. A laugh in disbelief almost escapes his throat ad he pushes it down with some freshly cut strawberries.
"And they listened?"
"I don't think you realise how annoying she can be." He knows, though. He knows. "Bet they regret it, though. I should tell them to keep her for a little longer."
"Voice recognition registers voice to someone named Chad, better known by his alias Soul Crusher. Surveillance footage places the car about thirty minutes away. Exact location sent to your phone GPS."
Soul Crusher. That was worse than Dr. Strange.
"I can make that fifteen." Bucky shrugs, setting down his fork and knife. If his hunch is right, the team didn’t really have to get involved. “See you guys later.”
“Do you want any of us coming with you?” Wanda gestures to the crowd at hand.
“I got it.” He pushes away from the table, depositing his plate in the sink, dropping an extra piece of bacon on the ground for Clint’s dog. “She’ll be alright.”
They watch him trail out of the room briskly, heading up to his room to change.
“Is it just me or is he too casual about this?” Clint continues staring long after he leaves.
“Both of them are weirdos.” Nat pulls open the newspaper again, going back to the sport’s section. “Who knows what goes in their heads.”
“Can confirm that not a lot goes on in his.”
Without Bucky to retaliate or grumble, a Steve walking into the room, sweaty and shiny after training becomes the new subject of jokes that morning.
__
For the first time in months, he’s had to bring a weapon or two along with him. Two revolvers and a couple of knives kept out of plain view. He wouldn’t need more than that anyway.
True to his word, it takes only fifteen minutes to get there, thirteen if he didn’t stop for the chain of ducks that crossed the street.
He’s also dressed in a little more leather than he usually reserves for your meetings. A jacket that brings to act as a windbreaker and tightly laced up combat boots make him look like he either stepped off a runway, or more menacing than usual depending on who was looking.
The GPS points him to an old warehouse near a more subdued part of the city. It was abandoned by the looks of it, and had been for a while judging by the lack of upkeep. Prime real estate.
He pulls off his helmet, hanging it on the handlebar along with his backpack before kicking the stand into place. The bike’s a few metres away just in case they decide to blow something up.
Bucky looks up at the warehouse, assessing the most damage he could do to it if at all it was needed. That thing could barely stand on its own, a grenade would absolutely decimate it. That wasn’t good news for you.
He sighs once before putting on his death glare, straightening out his shoulders into a stature that screams stone-cold, and pushes the door open, gun raised.
A mini-army of people ranging from their early twenties to late thirties stood guard at the entrance, all with rifles pointed at him. He counts fifteen, maybe eighteen.
“Oh, hell no,” a voice erupts from the back, followed by the sound of his gun being thrown to the ground. “No one told me that he was coming.”
Bucky raises an eyebrow, his death glare not shifting and Glock not lowering.
“I’m out.” The same guy raises his hands up to show he meant no harm, slowly brushing past Bucky as he squeezed out of the building.
“You got five seconds to leave before I shut this door,” Bucky gives the rest of them an ultimatum. Not like there was a point anyway. SHIELD was sending down some people to account for the one day rise in new morons.
They all looked at each other, swallowing thickly before raising their weapons.
“I hope he’s giving you good insurance.” The second he finishes his sentence they all cry out in what sounds like a fucking war chant, launching themselves at him.
______
“They’re here.” Someone presses his ear to the door as if the gunshots and screaming weren’t enough.
“Brilliant. We’re ready.” Chad picks up the knife, running his finger along the sharp end. You try to see if you can use your Twitter-ordained powers of manifestation for a paper cut.
“How much are you asking them for?” You put forth a query instead, when it disappointingly doesn’t work.
“Asking who for what?” Chad stops his dumb intimidation tactic for a second.
“You know,” you insist like it was obvious, “my ransom. How much did you ask them to pay?”
“We didn’t-” He looks around at the other people in the room for confirmation. “-we didn’t ask for any.”
“Because I’m invaluable?” Your head droops to the side in mock flattery. “Aw, you guys.”
“We didn’t think of it,” someone from the corner behind you speaks up, coming to the aid of their boss.
“Now that’s just rude.” You tut, shifting maybe an inch or two in your bounds to try and get more comfortable. “Leaving aside your lack of preparation, let’s just assume he bursts in here, desperate and ready to bargain. How much would you ask for?”
“Three million,” Chad says confidently, gathering a nod and sounds of agreement from everyone else.
“Are you serious?” Your jaw drops, a scoff escaping you. “That’s all?”
His self-assurance falters a little bit, you can see it under his 5 Minutes Craft mask.
“Three mill-” You stop mid-sentence. “With this wiring? Ridiculous. Make it ten, I demand it.”
“We’ll ask for fifteen mil,” Chad proposes, his teammates agreeing again, a little more delighted than last time.
“Ask for thirty, you coward,” you argued. “Thirty million and a jet.”
“You’re not worth that much.” The dipshit diagonal to you pipes up with his unwanted and, frankly, useless opinion.
“And you are?” You whip around the best you can. “Henchman number four?”
“Megedagik,” he informs, standing up a little taller now that he was given some importance. “It means ‘killer of many’.”
“Did you just say your name was Mega Dick?”
“Megedagik,” he corrects.
You stare at him hard before turning away. “Alright, other than Mega Dick here, does anyo-”
A knife lands right next to your feet, driven at least an inch into the ground. You look up at the guy you managed to piss off within four sentences, his face now a beet red.
“These are brand new, asshole,” you barked, shaking your shoes around. “You’re gonna pay if there’s even a scratch on it.”
“Permission to kill her?” Meg growls, casting a side eye at Chad.
The boss man looks at you thoughtfully, assessing the repercussions of what might happen. You raise an eyebrow.
“Slow and painful,” he settles.
A small smirk makes its way onto your face.
“Title of your sex tape,” you quip as the man in the corner storms towards you.
_____
It’s all a flurry, really. A bunch of inexperienced newcomers versus one of the most skilled assassins the world had ever seen? Ten minutes tops.
Bucky doesn’t do any serious damage. A couple of broken bones but only out of necessity, a lot of concussions, and maybe a bullet wound, or three, here and there.
Most of the time he spends thinking about things that have absolutely nothing to do with what was going on. He forgot to take his laundry out of the machine. There was a biscotti recipe he had been procrastinating on trying. His succulents needed watering but he could do that once he was back. Was he wearing his good combat pants or was it the pair that had a hole in the pocket?
His left hand thrust outwards to shove someone away while he stuck his right hand into his pocket to check if it had frayed away. The person he pushed slams into a wall with a loud groan and no, his pants didn’t have a hole in them.
He stops to take a breather, assess what was going on. There are bodies scattered all around, mostly writhing in pain from minor injuries. Someone very bravely stands up, hands posed in front of him in a regular fighting stance.
“You sure about this?” Bucky asks, reaching for one of the concealed knives he hadn’t had a chance of using yet. It twirls rather nimbly between his fingers for something so dangerous, the hilt finally landing in his palm for a sturdy grip.
The man takes one look at the knife before sitting right back down on the ground.
“Good choice,” his voice drops to an octave lower than his self-esteem. He’s tired of this old routine but it works like a neat little party trick, often getting him the result he wanted. “Where?”
A few fingers point down the hall to the only room whose door was closed.
He makes sure to step over everyone who was lying along the way, ears tuned in to even the smallest of noises just in case one of them decided to attack him from the back. It doesn’t come.
He doesn’t bother creeping down the hallway. With all the ruckus that just went on outside, he’s pretty sure it’s obvious that they had an intruder.
Bucky kicks in the large steel door with ease, given that it was barely hanging on its hinges. His gun’s raised, muscles tight, and senses on high alert for any immediate threats.
It lands with a large thud, reverberating through the room. He’s reminded of your first meeting with him.
There’s a chair in the middle of the room with a person tied to it by a mixture of rope and tape. Others found themselves slithering around on the floor in a similar fashion, trying to get out of their bondages.
“Hey, James,” you call out, drawing his attention to you. You were sitting atop a table, legs swinging back and forth without a care in the world, a blade in your hand.
“You okay?” He tucks the gun into his waistband when he realises that none of the henchmen are going to be going anywhere soon.
“All good.” You hop off the table with a little spring in your step. “Did you bring your bike? I need a ride back to the lair. I think I left the TV on when I was, you know, getting kidnapped.”
“You coulda teleported back home before all of this even happened.” Bucky does a quick assessment of your body to make sure there weren’t any bruises or anything of the sort. “Avoided the whole thing.”
“Don’t have the watch with me.” Odd, since he knows you consider it one of your essentials but it just fuels his theory further. “Besides, if I just quit before we started, they’d keep messing with me over and over again.”
“Do you want me to punch someone’s face in?” He glances around the room at the ones wiggling about on the floor like fucking worms. “I’d be happy to.”
“Nah, I got a few in myself.” You rotate your wrist, other hand still holding onto the knife. “You know what, maybe I’ll have another go.”
He simply makes a noise in acknowledgement before he places a hand on the hem of your shirt, gently reeling you back. “I think you fixed ‘em up real good. That’s enough for today.”
“Fine but only ‘cause you said so.” You huff, looking past him and at the weirdos on the ground. “You hear that? This man just saved your life. Say ‘thank you’.”
A muffled chorus of what sounded like appreciation echoed through the room. Bucky awkwardly looks around.
“Damn right.” You walk over to the guy in charge of the whole event, bending down to his level. “If you ever try to fuck with us again...”
You stare straight into his eyes, unblinking. You hold up the knife to his Adam’s apple. Chad doesn’t dare to move other than the thick swallow.
You raise your finger and flick him in the forehead. “Get a better costume.”
The corner of Bucky’s lip quirks upward.
“Let’s go, sarge,” you announce, standing upright again and making a motion to follow you. “D’you have an extra helmet I could use?”
“Yeah.” He had brought one along in his bag, assuming that you’d need one once he noticed the watch was missing in the footage.
“Yay.”
The only storage space on his bike was under his seat and it’s just enough for an extra revolver. Clint asked him if it was his way of flirting with someone, give ‘em a quick spin around the city and then show them his gun. If looks could kill, Clint would be 7 feet under.
“You sure you wanna ride it, though?” He cringes immediately when he realises what it sounds like, waiting for you to smack the innuendo in his face. “We could wait for SHIELD.”
“Don’t really have another choice, Bucky,” you say absentmindedly, strolling out the room as you tossed the knife behind you.
He frowns at your indifference but turns around for a second to look at Chad. The man in question looks back viciously, his grandeur from that morning basically deflated and left to die along with his reputation.
“Might wanna reconsider the name,” Bucky remarks, doing a quick sweep of the area once more. “Soul Crusher.”
He waits until both of you are outside the cell and the door is shut on the ringleader and his circus clowns, handlebar twisted out of place so that they don’t escape for the time being.
“One second,” he calls, touch gently lingering on your forearm to stop you without even thinking twice about it. A famously uncharacteristic move for him.
"Hm?” You don’t even look like you notice his action.
“You sure you’re good?” he asks seriously, actual concern slipping through the question. “Do you need medical assistance?”
“They couldn’t hurt me anyway.” There’s something strange about the way you say it, almost assuredly. “I’m good.”
“Okay,” he concedes, his hand darting back when he realises it was still on your arm. His eyebrows furrow when he realises how instinctively he had reached out in the first place. He didn’t touch anyone, ever.
“What are we gonna do about them?” you inquire, stepping over someone on the floor to get to the exit.
“Marie told Agent Hill. They’re sending someone over.”
“They’re sending SHIELD for these wannabes?” Someone groans in protest from somewhere and you elect to ignore them. “Ew.”
“Just to make sure confidential information isn’t compromised in any way.” There’s a large bang that comes from the room they just left. Maybe one of them shot their teammate by accident. They were more than capable of doing it.
“I would never,” you exacted a little more solemnly, pushing the door open with your elbow to let the sunlight flood in.
“I know.” He doesn’t realise how dark it was in the warehouse until he steps out into the noon sun. “I’m pretty sure this is more about the fact that you were abducted.”
“For me?” The smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes the way he kinda likes. Something definitely felt off. “I love being class favourite.”
He doesn’t reply, a small grunt as he twists the handle of the warehouse door upwards, effectively jamming it.
“Can I drive?” You bat your eyelashes at him innocently, disregarding the loud screaming that came from inside as those less injured probably regrouped for a last ditch attempt.
“No,” he doesn’t hesitate in replying, handing you a helmet and buckling his own securely.
“But I just got kidnapped,” you complained, watching him swing a leg over the bike and straddle it. Okay then.
“All the more reason for you not to drive right now.” He mentions for you to get on, squinting at the warehouse a few feet away.
“Fine, but next time I’m driving,” you grumble, climbing on the back.
“Do you even know how to?” His head is tilted to look at you from the corner of his eye, voice heavier on account of the obstruction on his face.
The door starts shaking violently and he knows for a fact that it won’t hold up for much longer. Some of those who he had knocked out probably had been shaken awake again for manpower.
“I can learn.” You take a pause, mischief seeping into your next words. “You can teach me.”
“No.” He didn’t exactly practice what was considered safe, law abiding driving. He just got from one point to another and that’s all he cared about.
“Then I’ll do it myself.” You sound determined. “I’m going to leave a note for us in the lair.”
“You do that.” He revs the engine when something solid hits the metal door. As guessed, their usage of props to push it down faster was coming into play. “Now, can you hold on to something? We need to go.”
If only those idiots just realised that the windows covered by newspapers were right there, ready to be broken.
“Only if you promise to let me drive next time,” you say defiantly, drawing this whole ordeal out.
“Whatever,” he urges. “I promise. Now can we go?”
“Wait for it...” There’s a devilish smile on your face. “One.”
There’s a loud creak as the door finally gives way.
“Two.” The same people you left tied up in the room burst out, almost stumbling over each other in the process.
“Three,” he completes it on his own, not waiting for you to finish because God knows how long you’d stretch it out just for the drama.
Your excited screech of laughter as he narrowly misses a rod that gets thrown at him like a fucking javelin temporarily distracts him from the brain freeze he gets when your arms wind around his waist to hold yourself in place.
There’s angry screaming and bullets that whiz past in an attempt to get him to stop but a swift turn around a corner, pulling the both of you out of their sight is enough to get rid of them.
“We should get a few weapons and go back,” you yell over the wind rushing by, barely audible.
“You do that in your own free time,” he shouts in response, yanking you through narrower lanes and less popular streets.
“Maybe I will, you bore.”
Still, you shut up for the rest of the ride, only grumbling when he stops the bike to tell you that no, you cannot let go just because you want to throw your hands in the air like in the movies.
You hop off when he finally pulls up on the street outside your lair, adrenaline still pumping through your veins. He waits patiently as you unbuckle the helmet, switching off the engine.
“You gonna drop me off at my door too, now?” You snicker, fingers pulling off the helmet.
He looks at you for a second before dropping the kickstand into place and dismounting from the motorcycle.
“I was kidding.” You laugh, handing him your headgear that he shoves into his backpack.
“You’re pretty capable of gettin’ abducted along the way.” An absurd notion, considering it’s a short path from the road to the door.
“Oh, how chivalrous.” You let him tag along anyway, for his peace of mind.
“My ma didn’t expect any less.” A couple of sharp lessons from Winifred Barnes and Bucky was nothing short of a damn angel.
You knock on the door three times, crossing your arms over your chest as you waited.
“Aren’t you the one with the key?” Bucky questions, one hand on his waist.
The door swung open in the middle of his sentence revealing... you.
Another you.
“Nah, she has it.” Ex-Kidnapped-You raises your head in acknowledgement at Doorway-You.
“Ah.” He fucking knew it. An unnatural sense of smugness blossoms in his chest.
“Hey,” the both of you said at the same time.
Doorway-You looked way more relaxed, a little less grimy and dishevelled but exactly the same.
“Buck, I see you met my other half,” the you from the doorway greets him. “Or other whole, actually.”
“Sure did.” He sends a glance at Ex-Kidnapped-You.
“You can go on in. Big first day, huh?” Doorway-You refers to the you beside him.
“You wouldn’t believe,” Ex-Kidnaped-You mutters, pushing past the entrance and disappearing inside.
“She gonna be okay?” His gaze trails after your clone.
“Oh yeah, just needs to recharge.” You turn around to make sure she’s fine. “She’s made of some pretty strong carbon, technically almost indestructible.”
No wonder ‘you’ said they couldn’t hurt you.
“Heya, sarge.” You draw his attention back to you. “Always good to see you.”
“Can’t really say the same about you.”
“Ever the emotional repressor, Mr Barnes. I like this little leather show you got going, did ya wear it just for me?”
He shifts his balance to his other foot, feet slightly wide apart. “Take it that the clone machine finally worked?”
“I was in the middle of celebrating.” You sigh, recalling the events of that morning. “Teleported home for a second to get some champagne and when I came back she was gone.”
“Irresponsible.” He tsks, head shaking in disappointment.
“Sorry I didn’t take amateur kidnappers into account for my risk factor analysis, Bucky,” you shoot back, pressing on his name for added annoyance. “Anyway, I did the responsible thing. I sent all the evidence I had to you guys.”
“Real clever.” Bucky looks at you in dry amusement. “Attack on the clone? Really?”
“Hey, always make time for a good pun.” You finger gun, lopsided grin on your face. “Did the team like it?”
“They thought it was a typo.” Or a code. He really had Wanda to thank for his big revelation. “Your video didn’t help either.”
“Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.” You laugh, crossing your arms over your chest.
He doesn’t reply, pursing his lip inwards in sympathy, but more so to conceal a smile.
The happiness drops from your face slowly, horror taking its place. “Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.”
“Good job, your machine worked,” he adds helpfully.
“C’mon, there were so many differences,” you whine, the success of your endeavour the last thing on your mind.
“That is your literal clone,” he points out, only to see you- clone you- walk into the giant box in the corner of the room, bright green light emanating from it like a xerox machine.
“How could they not tell the original apart from a copy?” You look genuinely offended. Insane. “Not even Sam?”
“Guess you’re not unique enough.” A rise and fall of his shoulders signify his attitude towards this whole thing. “Think I like your copy better, too, actually.”
“You’re so mean.” You puff in disbelief. “I’m a 100% original. How many mad scientist teachers do you know?”
“Two.”
“I don’t mean now, that’s not even the-” You poke at his rock hard chest. “You are so much more annoying than when I first met you.”
He thinks it’s good relationship development.
“I have to deal with you every weekend.” He watches your finger drop from his chest. “Picked it up along the way.”
“Boo hoo, talking like you don’t have deep, deep feelings for me.” You roll your eyes. “I see right through you, Bucky Barnes.”
“Can you see the part that couldn’t give less of a shit?” He gestures to himself. “It’s all of it.”
“You think you’re such a comedian, huh?” You narrow your eyebrows. “How did you know she was a fake then, huh?”
Busted.
“Probably ‘cause you didn’t talk as much today,” he dodges. “Actually had some peace of mind for a change.”
“You knew before you got there, you liar.” You push past his fabrications. “You figured it out before everyone else.”
“You literally put it in the title.”
“Yeah, but the rest of the team saw it too.”
“Rest of the team didn’t know you were building a goddamn clone machine for months.”
“You remembered that?” You pulled away, palm over your heart. “Oh, sarge, you paid attention to me.”
His nose twitches.
“You said it, like, eight hundred times.” He could use both his hands to count the number of references you had offhandedly made in the last three weeks alone.
“Why'd you go save me when you knew it wasn't real?” you continue to challenge relentlessly, knowing fully well that he was fibbing.
“Because you fuckin’ peer pressured me. Had the whole team around me when you sent your little video during breakfast.”
“Just admit it,” you coo, ignoring all his justifications. “You noticed it was fake me right away but showed up anyway because you’re wildly in love with me.”
“No,” he says stiffly.
“No as in you won’t admit it you have a crush on me, or no as in you didn’t know it was fake me?”
There was no winning this.
“Good day to you.” He pulls the motorcycle helmet on to hide the expression that plain as day screamed the former of your two options.
“Also,” you bring up indignantly, “she even got to ride the fucking bike and I’ve been asking to drive it for months now!”
“We-” he chooses his words carefully. “-compromised.”
“Oh, you did?” Your voice lowers at the newfound information, interest piqued. “I’m gonna hold you to that then, whatever it is.”
“Doesn’t count.”
“Absolutely does,” you huff. “A promise is legally binding. Blue’s Clues taught me that.”
“Bye, Y/N.”
“You’re my knight in leathery armour,” you swoon, switching sides immediately, “Kinda.”
“See you next week,” he says in farewell, determined to leave before you made it worse. “Try not to get killed by then.”
“Why, so you can do it yourself? Protective much?” You pull him back when he starts walking away, laughing slightly. “Wait a second, you weirdo.”
He sighs, staying put anyway, arms crossed impatiently over his chest.
You pull out the pen tucked behind your ear and slowly tap him twice on each shoulder in a makeshift knighting ceremony. “For your sacrifice.”
He rolls his eyes at the ludicrousness, tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth.
You ignore his lack of enthusiasm, pressing your fingertips to your lips in a small kiss and then to his nose, given that it was the only part of his face you had access to.
“That was for your bravery.” You grin brightly at him and he sure as hell is glad he’s wearing the stupid helmet because he can feel his cheeks light up a bright crimson.
“Thanks.” His voice sounds gruffer than a second ago. He clears his throat.
“Now you’re my knight in leathery armour,” you fawn, nearly falling over yourself dramatically. “Let’s ride into the sunset together. I love you.”
“You’re ridiculous,” he calls out over his shoulder, turning away to return to his bike. “I despise you.”
“But you don’t.”
He really didn’t.
also i managed to fuck my phone up really bad so all proceeds from my ko-fi go towards getting it fixed
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lovebug
Pairing: Wilbur x GN!Reader
Summary: Wilbur was done with love after he lost Sally, but when Fundy introduces him to one of Niki’s friends, things start to change.
Word Count: 2k words
Notes: Songfic!! I said they would be rare and it’s the second fic I post lmao. Inspired by Lovebug by the Jonas Brothers, totally willing to do a part 2 for this one because I have other ideas with other lyrics and stuff
Tagging: N/A
After Sally, Wilbur wasn’t really looking for anyone else to love, in fact, he had given up on love entirely. He had to focus on his son and the nation he was building from the ground up.
Then you came into the picture.
You were a friend of Niki’s, that’s how he met you. Fundy was visiting the bakery and when Wilbur came to get him, he saw you helping the young fox hybrid make cookies. It was such a sweet sight that he took a moment to just enjoy seeing his son have a great time. When he did enter, Fundy introduced the two.
“This is Y/N! They’re one of Niki’s friends. Y/N, this is my dad. He’s single.”
Of course his son would throw him under the bus like that. But you just laughed, and god did you have a beautiful laugh, and held out your hand. A gesture that Wilbur returned with one of his charming grins.
“Fundy’s talked about you all day, I feel like I know you already…” you had trailed off, obviously Fundy only referred to him as my dad, prompting him to give his name.
“Wilbur Soot.”
“Wilbur. It’s great to meet you.”
You gave him your phone number, clearly you were as taken with Fundy as the boy was to you, for him or his son to use anytime. Then you said your goodbyes for the night as you sent them on their way with the cookies you and Fundy baked along with some extra baked goods.
Called you for the first time yesterday
Wilbur hadn’t used your number for a good couple of days. He had been busy with L’Manberg and honestly had barely had time to see his son, let alone the enchanting stranger.
Today was a day that he could actually spend quality time with Fundy, and obviously all of that time at the bakery while he was working just made the young boy want to bake cookies with his dad. Unfortunately, Fundy was very specific with what cookies he wanted to make. The ones he baked with you.
“These don’t taste like the ones Y/N made.” Was said numerous times throughout the night no matter how Wilbur changed the recipe so eventually, he just gave up and called you to figure it out.
“Hello?”
Your voice rang out through the telephone and it instantly felt like all of the stress of this baking night was leaving his body.
“Y/N, it’s Wilbur. We met at Niki’s the other day?”
“Wilbur! Of course. How are you? How’s Fundy?”
Another grin was brought to his face at you almost immediately asking about Fundy, though he didn’t have the chance to respond as the aforementioned hybrid returned from getting more ingredients for the cookies and practically begged his father to put you on speaker so he could talk to you as well.
“Y/N!!”
It was almost like he could hear the smile on your face as you spoke to Fundy. “Fundy! What are you up to?”
“We’re trying to bake cookies but dad can’t make them like you.”
Wilbur heard that laugh again, that beautiful laugh that he first heard at the bakery.
“That’s because your dad probably doesn’t know the secret ingredient that we used to bake those cookies. How about you give the phone back to him so I can let him know and then I’m sure you two will bake the best cookies ever.”
Then the phone was back in his hand and he spoke, “Secret ingredient?”
You grinned as you answered, “I just told him to tell the dough nice things in his life. Some people say speaking love into the dough helps, I don’t know if it’s true or not but he had fun with it.”
It sounded ridiculous, but Wilbur decided to try it.
“Thanks, Y/N. I’ll let you know how it goes.”
This time, Fundy thought the cookies were perfect.
I finally found the missing part of me
You became a big part of his routine after that night. He would see you at the bakery every time he came to get his son, he called you even when he was at work, you quickly became an important part of his life. Fundy loved you, days together often involved him telling Wilbur all about whatever the two of you got up to.
Wilbur wasn’t a stranger to love, he loved Sally, he loved his country, he loved his son. But it felt very different with you. He couldn’t even say it was love yet, you just felt like you fit with him and Fundy. You were kind, and obviously cared about his son, you were funny, the texts and calls he exchanged with you never failed to put a smile on his face. And you cared about his son a lot, which was certainly not a negative. For the two of them, it felt like you were the perfect fit to the puzzle they didn’t realize was missing a piece.
I felt so close but you were far away
Getting used to having you in his routine meant it really sucked when you traveled to a village far away. Fundy missed you and honestly, Wilbur did too. You promised the young boy that you wouldn’t be gone for long, and told him that he was welcome to call you at anytime. Which Fundy took full advantage of. Every night before the young fox hybrid went to bed, he called you on Wilbur’s phone and the two of them heard about your day and they shared details of their own. On certain nights, you even joined Wilbur in singing a lullaby for him.
People say that absence makes the heart grow fonder and that absolutely seemed true with your trip. Both of the boys missed you and wondered when you would be back, but luckily, you came back within a month. And you came back with plenty of gifts for Fundy, which made the boy ridiculously happy. You even got a gift for Wilbur, which was certainly a pleasant surprise since really, you being back was enough of a gift for him.
That night, he invited you over for dinner. He said it was to celebrate your return, which is true, but he also just wanted to spend time with you now that you were back. You agreed, and the three of you even tried baking dessert, which resulted in a small flour fight initiated by you.
Wilbur usually liked everything in order and in his control, something like throwing flour around and making a complete mess of his kitchen is something that Tommy would enjoy, but somehow it felt okay with you and his son.
I never thought that I’d catch this lovebug again
After that night, Wilbur came to realize that he did like you, if not love you. You were a nice balance to his control and an escape from the stress of his job as president.
At first, it felt like a betrayal to Sally. He decided he was going to focus on his son and his nation, not love. He decided that long before you came into the picture and he was a man of his word. Even if that word was only said to himself.
He knew he couldn’t just outright ignore you. Not only would that be unfair to you, it wouldn’t be fair to Fundy. So he had to deal with it another way, throwing himself further into his work. It meant less time with his son but it was very productive for L’Manberg. Plus it meant Fundy got to see you and Niki more so Wilbur is certain that the young fox would understand and perhaps enjoy this more than spending time with him.
There was a knock at his door but Wilbur didn’t even look up as he called out, “Come on in.” Obviously it wasn’t Tommy since the boy never knocked but it could have been Tubbo or Jack Manifold or even someone from outside of L’Manberg.
“You would think that in a time of peace, the president would have more free time.”
He knew that voice. He could never forget the face that went along with it. Your smile and eyes never left his mind even with him trying his hardest to shut out the rest of the world.
“Y/N, I wasn’t expecting to see you. What brings you by?”
“I haven’t seen you in a while, Fundy told me you’ve been sleeping here lately so I thought I would check on you.”
And there was that kindness again. The kindness that made him fall in love with you in the first place.
“I’m okay, Y/N. Just busy.”
“Too busy to stop by the bakery to see your friends? Or to even come home and see your son at night?”
There was an edge to your voice and Wilbur wasn’t sure how he felt about it, obviously he thought that Fundy would prefer spending time with you and Niki over himself but it seemed like you disagreed.
You strongly disagreed.
“I’ve just been busy. Running a country is a lot of work, Fundy will understand. He gets to see you and Niki more anyways, he’s happier that way.” He shifted his eyes back to the papers in front of him, letters he had been drafting for the past two hours and couldn’t get anywhere with.
“Fundy is a child, Wilbur. Niki and I are happy to see him at the bakery but we aren’t replacements for his dad. His dad who suddenly became “too busy” almost overnight. What happened?”
It truly was sweet the way you cared about his son that much. Enough to come to his office when you could be sleeping. This could have been a good moment for him to say what was on his mind, that he thinks he was falling in love with you and didn’t want to betray his dead wife. But he lied.
“Tommy has been getting into trouble with Dream recently, I want to make sure we don’t fight in another war so soon. Or ever again.” It was a solid lie, Tommy had a reputation for being a troublemaker and he could use that to his advantage. You seemed like you were about to speak, probably about Fundy, so he spoke first, “I promise that I will talk to Fundy and see him more as soon as I get this figured out. Thank you, Y/N, it’s really nice Thank you, Y/N, it’s really nice to know that someone else cares about Fundy this much, he needs that.”
“It’s not just him that I care about, Wilbur. I wish you would see Fundy more sooner but I was also worried about you, I know you care about him so something had to be going on for you to miss seeing him this often.”
Well that certainly didn’t help with him trying to ignore these feelings.
“Then I thank you again. I really appreciate it. Goodnight, Y/N. Get some sleep.”
“Goodnight, Wilbur.”
I kissed them for the first time yesterday
Wilbur kept the promise he made to you. Considering the reason he gave you for being busy was a lie, it wasn’t hard to get back to seeing his son and by extension, you.
If you asked him, he would say he’s handling his feelings for you rather well now. He hasn’t done anything about it but he isn’t shutting out the world so, progress.
It was another dinner night with you and Fundy, you had brought desert with you this time so they didn’t have another flour fight but it was still lovely. After he sent Fundy to bed, you stuck around.
The two of you had been sitting on the couch together for a whole, just talking about anything, and maybe it was just because it was late and you looked so beautiful but something came over Wilbur and he asked, “Would you mind if I tried something?”
You nodded, curious about what he was going to try, but you didn’t stay curious for long as Wilbur gently cupped your face with one hand and leaned in to kiss you.
A kiss that you returned.
I never thought that I’d get hit by this lovebug again
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Popularity is overrated anyways | Rory Keaner x gn!popular!reader
Fandom: My babysitter’s a vampire
Request: “ Hello! Your writing is so amazing, truly! Could you write Rory x Gn!Popular!Reader in which the reader falls hard and so they try flirting and try to impress him? I think that would be an interesting dynamic to explore cause I usually see things going the other way around. No need to take this request if you don't want to write it of course! Have a great day/night<33 “
Pronouns: none specified
Genre: Fluff
Warnings: none
~~~
The first time you saw Rory was in art class. It was your first day and you were somewhat nervous, but he walked in as if he owned the place. He yelled "Good morning gays, gals and pals" with this kind hearted smile and you couldn't help but laugh at how comfortable he was around here. How he seemed to be at home.
At the end of class, you decided to walk up to him, say hello. At the very least learn his name, except by the time you were done packing your things, he was gone. You felt a little lost looking at the empty seat he sat in just a moment ago but you were already dead set on getting to know the blonde kid better.
Since then, you've made lots of friends, partly due to you joining the photography club, which was pretty well known around the school. You were also best friends with the star of the football team which sure gave you a big boost on the popularity chart, not that you cared. Even with your newfound attention, you still felt like you were a little behind Rory. You'd see him every week in art class, always cracking a joke, making you and everyone else around him laugh. You often saw him hanging out with the same 2 brown haired boys and you couldn't help the jealousy you were feeling, so eventually you decided you've had enough. You were going to get closer to Rory!
The perfect opportunity snuck up on you one Friday, when you saw Rory eating lunch in the cafeteria alone. You excused yourself from your friends, making your way instead towards the blonde
"Is this seat open?" you said motioning to the seat right in front of him
"Yeah!" he replied with a bright smile, as if he was more than excited that you wanted to sit with him "I'm Rory!"
You sat down and gave him your name in return. From where you were sitting, you could see your friends.They were sitting around their usual table, glaring at you as if they couldn't understand what you could possibly be doing there, instead of by them. In fact, mostly everyone in the cafeteria was now watching you and Rory with judging looks. You knew Rory wasn't the most popular person in school, but you also didn't care. For what it's worth, he seemed to be a lot cooler than any other "popular" kid you knew.
"Is that a V for Vendetta pin on your shirt?" he asked, reaching over to touch the little handmade pin you had. You felt his fingertips press into your collarbone and sucked in a deep breath, suddenly shy at the unexpected contact
"Yeah! I made it myself out of an old coin a while back!"
"That's so cool! I used to make pins out of beer bottle caps when I was little! I didn't actually drink the beer, I would sneak the caps from my parents at family events!" you giggled. You barely knew the boy and yet this seemed like such a ‘him’ thing to do
"And how did you make them?"
For the entire lunch break, you sat next to Rory, listening to him talk about his pins and his favorite comic books, which just so happened to match a lot of your favorites. You were more than excited by finding out that you had a lot in common. You liked the same bands and the same movies. He was full of stories about the supernatural and you have always been passionate about that kind of stuff.
You always knew you kinda fancied the blonde boy and you weren’t ashamed of that, but now, actually being with him, talking to him, connecting with him, the feeling of butterflies in your stomach was almost insufferable.His mere presence was making you dizzy. He was so cute and his smile was worth millions. You loved listening to him talk and seeing his bright eyes sparkle with joy, but than the bell rang and you had to leave for your next class
"I had fun talking to you Rory!”
"Thank you, you're really cool, we should hang out more!" he said, making you blush
From that point on, you and Rory were much closer. You would hang out during school hours usually, which bummed you out, since you really saw Rory as more than a ‘convenience’ friend that you got along with simply because you saw each other almost everyday. You wished you could get closer to him, get to know him more intimately, but you didn’t want to push him into anything. The week after your first real interaction, Rory came to sit next to you in art. You were too engulfed in the video you were watching on your phone to notice when he walked in, but he made sure to make his presence known by wrapping his arms around you from behind
"Hi friend!" he said in a sing-song voice that made you giggle. He dragged his chair as close to you as he could, so you 2 could whisper to each other during class. Now, being so close to him, you could hear each of his sarcastic jokes and clueless questions better, each one making you laugh and smile. At times, he would lean into you to whisper something in your ear and you could feel his breath on your skin, sending shivers through your entire body.
One thing you learned about Rory during art class was just how competitive he was. Each class turned into a game of seeing who was the better artist. You weren't a huge fan of drawing, but you gave it your everything knowing that Rory was going to study your picture. He never said anything bad about it, he was too nice for that, but with each drawing you tried to impress him more and more.
Eventually, one day, you noticed Rory heading out of the school and decided to quickly followed him out
"Hey Rors! Wait up!!"
"Hey Y/N, wazzap?" he said in the funny voice he always made, making you smile
"All is good. I just had a question for you"
"Ok, shoot!"
"Are you free Saturday?" the boy looked at you with a confused smile
"I think so, yes. Why?"
"Would you like to go to the movies with me?"
"Yeah! That sounds awesome!! Who's coming?" his eyes were bright with excitement, only making you more nervous
"I mean...I was thinking it could be just the 2 of us..."
"Just us?"
"Yeah, you know. Like a date..."
"A date?"
"Yeah"
"With me?"
"I mean if you want to, I'm not..."
"I would love to!" he smiled
"You-You would?"
"Yeah, sounds awesome!"
"Ok, um, great! Can I get your number so I can text you the details?"
On your way home, you held the little piece of paper with Rory's number in your closed fist, your face hot from excitement and happiness. God, you could barely wait for Saturday!
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Waiting for you - Harry Styles
❄️ FANFICmas 2020 ❄️
Read more about FANFICmas here!
i wrote it over like a month ago, but kept it for today, i hope yall will like it! it’s a cute bestfriends to lovers fic, so yeah... happy holidays, hope you are having an amazing time!
word count: 13k
masterlist
Harry Styles has been a household name around your home, but not for the reason many would think. While for the rest of the world he was the famous singer, former member of One Direction and recent solo artist, the guy who performs at the biggest arenas, wins awards and sings his heart out through the radio, for you and your mom he was the goofy, curly haired boy who lived across the street with his mum, sister and stepdad.
You still remember all too clear the first time you met him. You and your mum just moved into your new home after the nasty divorce of your parents, ready to start a new life. You’ve barely turned twelve, it was quite the awkward stage of your teenage years, you were still trying to find yourself on the rocky road of growing up. Moving to a whole new town and switching schools were terrifying and you had quite a few nightmares about possible outcomes of being the new girl in the neighborhood.
You and your mum just finished unpacking the dishes in the kitchen when the doorbell rang. She rushed to answer it and you wandered behind her, curiously peeking at the guests under her arm as she held the door open.
“Hi! We saw the trucks and thought we would say hi! I’m Anne and this is my son, Harry,” the nice woman greeted your mum and stepping aside she gestured towards the teenage boy standing next to her.
His green eyes fell to you almost immediately and you forgot to breathe for a moment. You were not the kind to crush that easily on guys, well, not until you laid your eyes on Harry. He smirked at you, nodding in your way in such an easy-going manner and you could feel the heat crawling up your neck to your cheeks and ears.
Anne and your mum quickly became good friends. She was the rock your mum definitely needed after such a bad year behind her and you were glad she found support in such a wonderful woman as Anne. Their newly funded friendship got stronger day by day until the two families just… simply felt one.
Growing up the Styles siblings and Anne came and go in your home as if they lived there too. On many occasions you came home from school only to find Anne in the kitchen while your mother wasn’t even home. Anne always knew when your mum was working the night shift at the hospital where she was a nurse and always made sure you had a warm dinner on those evenings, often inviting you over to just stay at theirs while your mum was away working. Birthdays, graduations, Easters and Christmases, they were all spent at either yours or at the Styles home, strengthening the bond between the two families.
You have always had a strong friendship with Gemma, but maybe because you were closer in age or for something else, but you became the closest with Harry. Two peas in a pod, as your mums liked to call the two of you. You weren’t just neighbors or good friends, it was clear to anyone and to both of you as well that you were the best of friends. You were there for each other at the best and worst of times, before and after Harry’s launch to stardom. You were there with him all along, sometimes physically, sometimes just through text messages and reassuring calls when he just needed a piece of his home away from home. Late night calls and talks were your usual when he was on the road and he made sure to only talk about his life after you’ve told him everything about yours, even if the most interesting thing was that you were able to buy three socks for the price of two. Harry listened and cared for everything that happened to you, not letting you think even for a moment that he would forget about his best friend when he is on the other side of the planet.
The two of you grew up together and while his life consisted of concerts, screaming fans, telly appearances and award shows, your mundane everydays went on the same was as any normal young girl’s: you graduated from high school, went to uni and then started a career for yourself. As time was moving it became a little more and more complicated to stay as close as you used to, though, both of you terribly busy with your own personal lives, so the calls, texts and meetings became less frequent, but you were always able to pick up from where you left, it was as easy with him as it could be.
Maybe that’s why you grew to love him in a more than friendly way through the years. Slowly, but surely you started to realize what an amazing man he really was –is. It was impossible not to fall for him, however you valued your close friendship more than to just ruin it with dropping a bomb on Harry. You always thought he doesn’t feel the same way, so you were sadly left with your daydreams and fantasies about him only your bedroom walls heard.
This year it’s gonna be the tenth Christmas you get to celebrate together, quite the anniversary. There were only two years when you didn’t see each other during the holidays, the first one because you and your mum spent it in Canada with some relatives that live there, and the second one was because Harry couldn’t come home a few years ago, having a too tight schedule. But this year, everyone made sure to make it back home in time. Harry called you three month before Christmas to check in if you are still gonna coming home.
“Would be an idiot not to. Can’t wait to stuff my head with cookies!” you chuckled.
“Have you found your sweater yet?” Harry questioned, the muffled noise of the traffic around him broke through the line as he was on his way home when he called.
“Not yet. But I’ve been looking. I’m pretty sure I’m gonna win this year,” you smirked in victory.
“Oh, not so fast with the assumptions, little girl!” he warned you making you laugh.
The two of you had a kind of tradition. Every year, you go on mission to find the ugliest Christmas sweaters one could find, and then perform a chosen song at the karaoke machine after dinner, entertaining the rest of the family. Those performances are the best memories you nurse. Your absolute favorite one was just a couple of years ago when Harry’s sweater was filled with weird looking reindeers in quite inappropriate poses, he even added a glittery pair of sunnies and he sang I Want To Break Free from the Queen. Everyone was on the floor laughing as he took the living room by storm as if it was the Maddison Square Garden filled with thousands of screaming fans, while it was just the five of you.
He won that year, Hell, even you voted on him, giving him the cleanest win of all times, but you swore to live up to that performance and you really feel like this year is gonna be your chance to live up to that promise. You have quite some tricks up your sleeves.
These past couple of years you were anxiously waiting for the holidays to roll around, because you knew you would get to spend so much time with Harry and through the year, even with several occasions of the two of you meeting, you missed him dearly. Sometimes you selfishly wished he would have just stayed the boy across the street so your lives could take tracks that run at least close to each other, but you always reminded yourself that his work was his life and you would have never taken away his true passion and happiness. Besides, you love watching him perform from time to time, that was just one of your favorite sides of him, see his eyes shine so bright as he sang to his fans. You used to envy the fangirls, it always seemed like he had a special connection with them, but you realized that you were one of them. You felt the same excitement when he stepped on the stage, you bought all his albums, even though he made sure you’d be one of the first people to get your hands on it. You had a second copy of them, because buying it gave you the extra jolt of happiness and the feeling that you were a tiny part of his success too. You watched all his music videos, knew the lyrics to his songs and cheered on him whenever he won another award. Difference was that at the end of the day you could call him and tell him how proud you were of him and he stared back at you with that beautiful grin, his dimples digging deep in his cheeks, telling you that he wouldn’t be here without you. You always knew he just said it to make you feel special, but he insisted it was the truth.
“I’m telling you. It you weren’t with me I would have gone crazy already, pulling a Justin Bieber or summat. Don’t think you are any less than what you are, that’s just daft.”
Every time he said something along those lines those damned butterflies in your stomach went crazy and you tried your best to ignore them. You didn’t always succeed, but the effort was there.
Now it’s two days before Christmas and you are already standing in your old room after coming home from London, leaving your small but cozy little apartment empty until the next year. The walls are still the same lilac color you chose when you were fourteen, a twin bed is pushed against the wall under your window, the wardrobe’s door is littered with old pictures from high school and ones you cut out from magazines. You just never got around to take them down and after a while it brought you a comforting sense every time you came home. A warm nostalgia took over you when you saw them, so they eventually stayed.
Your suitcase is lying on the floor as you unpack some stuff you’ll be using often during your stay, but you don’t get far in the packing when you hear an all too familiar voice coming from downstairs. Leaving your stuff as it is you rush down and throw your arms around Anne from behind, who is standing in the kitchen with your mum.
“My sweet angel! How are you?!” she cheers turning around in your hold to hug you back, giving you a tight squeeze before she pushes you away so she can have a good look on you. “Swear you get prettier every time I see you!”
“Stop it, my head’s gonna get big,” you chuckle feeling yourself blushing a little.
“Never gonna stop praising my daughter,” she smiles and gifts you with a cheeky wink.
Anne was never shy to let you know that she thought of you as a second daughter and you still remember how it felt when she called you that for the first time. It felt nice to know that you could count on her no matter what.
The three of you chat in the kitchen, Anne asks you about your job and how things have been going, she hasn’t seen you in a while. You missed the times when you could just go across the street and have a talk with her whenever you wanted, but since you’ve moved to London, Harry wasn’t the only one you didn’t get to see as often as you would have wanted. Your job and life overall got you so busy sometimes, you barely had time to call your own mum.
“Harry is arriving this evening. Wanna come with us to fetch him up at the airport?” she asks you and of course you say yes. You wouldn’t miss the chance to greet him with a bone crushing hug just after he lands.
However, as the time nears when you’d have to leave to the airport, Anne calls you up and asks if you could go on your own.
“I didn’t finish cooking and Gems is in an online meeting. Would you mind if you went alone?” she asks and though it sounds a little made up, you don’t question her.
On your way to the airport you are nervously drumming on the wheel, the thought of seeing Harry excites and worries you a little. It’s been months since you last seen him in the flesh and though you’ve talked plenty of times on the phone and in video calls, it’s just not the same. You find yourself wondering if he still smells the same, if you’ll fit the same way into his embrace as before. When you were younger you often liked to think about the two of you as two pieces of legos when you hugged. Your frame just fitted so perfectly against his body, he was your absolutely favorite person to hug.
Standing in a corner at the terminal, you keep checking the board until his flight’s status changes to landed. Then your eyes are glued to the sliding glass doors, knowing well it’s gonna take him some time to get his bags and walk out, but you are just way too excited to finally see him again.
People start walking through the doors and your head perks up every time you see a slightly tall frame, only to realize it’s still not him. Until it is.
You can’t bite your growing smile back when you spot him, a beanie and the hood of his hoodie covering his mop of hair, sunnies hiding his eyes, but you’d recognize him even from just the tiniest detail. You push yourself away from the wall as you see him look around, probably searching for his mum and sister, because he was already on his way when Anne decided it’s gonna be you who fetches him up, so he doesn’t know about the change.
“Excuse me, can I get a picture?” you ask teasingly walking up to him and for a moment you can tell he believes it’s a fan who recognized him, but his face quickly changes once his eyes land on you.
“Fo’ fuck’s sake, you had me for a second,” he breathes out, his arms already reaching out to pull you against him and you gladly envelop yourself into his hold. “What are you doing here?” he mumbles tightening his arms around you, and you don’t mind it. As you face is pressed into his shoulder you smile when you realize that he still smells the same. Like home.
“Your mum asked me to come and get you because she didn’t finish cooking. But if you ask me she just wanted to surprise you with me. You happy to see me?” you smirk up at him letting your head fall back so you could look into his eyes.
“Always,” he grins before placing a soft kiss to your temple and letting go of you.
The two of you leave the terminal before anyone could recognize him and packing his stuff up into the car you head back home.
You hand your phone over to him once you hit the road so he can be in charge of the music and it’s no surprise when he starts playing Christmas music straight away. Grinning to yourself you glance over at him and see him scrolling through your camera roll like the nosy little gremlin that he is.
“Hey! I did not give you permission to snoop around my phone!” you warn him, but don’t try to snatch it away from him, there’s really nothing he shouldn’t see, besides, half of those pics have been sent to him through messages.
“Just tryna catch up w’ you,” he mumbles under his breath, continuously opening up photos he is interested in. “New couch, eh?” he asks showing you the screen for a second.
“Yeah, bought it a few weeks ago. You like it?”
“Looks comfy. I should try it out sometime.”
“You never sleep on my couch, what are you talking about?”
“Right, you always drag me t’ your bed,” he snorts and you gasp at him, smacking his chest gently.
“That’s so not true! You always just arbitrarily make yourself comfortable in my bed and I don’t have the heart to kick you out,” you correct him.
There hasn’t been many times when Harry crashed at your place, but when he did, he always slept in your bed with you, and the two of you have shared a bed a few other times prior too. It’s nothing new, though it does have a deeper meaning for you than for him, you think. Waking up with Harry snoring lightly next to you, admiring how peaceful and beautiful he is in this intimate state, you just wish you could see him like this all the time.
Harry smirks at you cheekily, scrunching his nose as he chuckles.
“’Cause I wouldn’t want to sleep anywhere else, Love,” he says before turning his attention back to your phone while you try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach at the nickname.
It’s quite late by the time you get home, you’ve run into some traffic, but it just meant more time with Harry. You gladly listened to his stories and you are happy you got some alone time with him. Parking up to your driveway you help him unload his bags before locking the car.
“Wanna go to the Christmas market in the morning? Promised Gemma I’d go with her and Michal,” he asks, slowly walking down the driveway towards his home.
“Uh, sure,” you nod smiling. Not that you had any other plans, the holidays are reserved for family and the Styles’ are family.
“Great, I’ll be here at ten. And thanks for the ride,” he smirks waving goodbye and you watch him cross the street before he disappears in his home and you do the same.
“Y/N? Is that you?” your mum calls out when you walk in.
“Were you expecting anyone else?” you ask, hanging your coat before you join her in the living room.
“Not,” she smiles giddily. “Was everything alright at the airport?”
You throw your legs over her lap and she squeezes your ankles playfully.
“Yeah, everything fine.”
“How is Harry?”
“Cheeky and smug, as always,” you huff smirking.
“Can’t wait to see him. I feel like I haven’t seen ‘im in ages.”
“When are they coming over tomorrow?”
“Anne said she’ll come around four to help me cook, the rest I don’t know. Dinner will be done around seven though.”
“I’m pretty sure Gemma and Harry will be here along with Anne,” you snort, knowing well they wouldn’t miss a chance to come over, especially Harry. He has been talking nonstop how he’ll be glued to your hip once he is back home, making up for all the time you’ve spent apart.
“They surely will,” your mum chuckles before you both turn your attention at the telly.
You go to bed way after midnight and finish up the packing you left abruptly when you left to get Harry. Shuffling around in your room you glance out the window and see that the light in Harry’s room is on too. Peeking out you lean against the window’s frame, thinking about the times when the two of you sat in the window, talking on the phone after curfew, keeping your voice down so your parents didn’t wake up, sharing secrets and your silliest thoughts. With Harry, you never felt like you had to keep anything back, he would have never judged you for anything, you could be your true self around him and vice versa.
A tall figure appears at the window and as Harry glances out his window he is quick to see you sitting on the window sill, your head resting against the frame. The two houses are not far away from each other and you see him grinning as he sits at the window as well, pulling out his phone, a moment later yours starts buzzing on the nightstand. You quickly grab it, and go back to the window.
“Creeping on me, eh?” he hums into the phone and you roll your eyes at him.
“Was just admiring the street lights, don’t flatter yourself, your head is getting too big,” you huff, but you can’t push your smirk down.
“Admit it, you were hoping to see me roam around naked, weren’t you?”
“As if I haven’t seen you like that before,” you snort making him laugh too. It’s true, Harry has never been shy to get rid of his clothes and he also doesn’t bother to draw the blinds whenever he is changing. You once saw him butt naked when he was nineteen, and when you told him to close the blinds next time he is changing, he just shrugged with a smug smile.
“’M not ashamed of anything, Love,” he told you and you had to turn away because you were blushing for sure.
“Right, you’re a fan of putting yourself on full display when you’re naked, almost forgot,” you chuckle shaking your head. “Millions of girls have the picture of you, lying naked on their walls.”
“You one of them?” he cheekily asks.
“Nah, doesn’t go well with the vibe of my apartment.”
“Shame. Though I think it would definitely look amazin’ above your bed, Love.”
“Now would it? I don’t know about that.”
“I’ll get you a copy framed,” he smirks and you can see it clear even from the distance. “Y’ know what? I’ll make you an exclusive one. One that nobody else has, how does that sound?”
“I can’t believe you, Styles,” you chuckle shaking your head. “I’m not gonna answer this, just gonna head to bed. You should too.”
“So we’re not sharing any secrets like we used to? Thought you’d have something fo’ me.”
“You know everything, Harry,” you sigh with a soft smile, though your heart skips a beat. He does know everything, except one big, fat, heavy secret you’ve been carrying around for way too long, that will probably stay with you forever.
“Right. Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Night, Harry.”
“Good night, Love,” he murmurs and you know he is smiling, thought he steps away from the window as he says goodbye and you do the same before ending the call.
***
“Hey! That’s mine!” you protest as Harry steals another roasted chestnut from your little paper bag, but you can’t stay mad at him when he is smiling at you so sweetly.
“Sorry, tastes better when it’s someone else’s.”
“Sure,” you snort and just let him get as many as he wants. You wouldn’t have eaten it all anyway.
It’s quite cold out in the town, but at least there’s no rain or storm, so the weather didn’t try to ruin your little trip to the Christmas market.
Gemma calls out for Harry to show him something and you just keep wandering between the booths, enjoying the atmosphere quite a lot, you have no idea when was the last time you got to come to the market, though you always loved coming when you were younger.
Finishing up your chestnuts you throw the paper bag into a trash can and turn around to find the rest of your little group, spotting Harry and Gemma deep in discussion next to a booth that offers handmade ceramic mugs. As you walk closer it almost seems like as if they were having a fight, which is just odd, they rarely do that.
“Just get your head out of your arse!” you catch Gemma telling her brother who only groans in frustration before he spots you, a smile plastering across his face.
“Hey, there you are!” he beams.
“Everything alright?” you ask looking at them.
“Sure, just Gemma is being a little nosy, is all,” Harry waves in dismiss. You glance over to Gems, but she is already back in discussion with Michal so you decide to drop it. “You ate all the chestnuts?” Harry asks offended, throwing an arm around your shoulders.
“Well, it was mine, so of course I ate them!”
“Selfish,” he narrows his eyes at you, but you both know it’s just a joke.
You walk further down in the aisle, occasionally stopping at some of the booth when you spot a place that offers hot chocolate in cute little mugs that you can take home with you if you’d like, or just take it back and get your money back.
“Oh look!” you gasp excitedly and head towards the hot chocolate booth. The old lady smiles brightly at the two of you as you take a look at all the choices. “Oh my god, they have caramel flavored!” you cheer, basically already drooling at the thought of a good, caramel flavored hot chocolate.
“What can I get for the lovely couple?” the lady smiles warmly at the two of you and you freeze at her assumption.
“Oh we—“ you start, but Harry cuts you off.
“A caramel flavored and a plain one, please,” he orders, without even batting an eye about how the lady just called you a couple. You can feel your cheeks heating up at the thought, but you try to calm yourself. He probably just didn’t want to get into explaining that you two are not an item and let her think what she wanted.
The nice lady hands you your mug and you take Harry’s as well as he pays for both of them. You would try to argue with him and pay yours, but you are already used to how stubborn he is and he never lets you split anything, it’s always on him.
“Thank you, have a nice day!” Harry calls out to the lady before the two of you leave. You peek at him handing him his mug, looking for any clue that would give away if this little scene got him just as bothered as it did you, but he looks perfectly fine and relaxed, so you decide not to bring it up. You’re sure he didn’t think much of it.
Your little stroll stretches into the afternoon, the four of you decide to have lunch out there too, then you just opt for a walk in town as Gemma wants to do a quick last minute Christmas shopping, so by the time you get home Anne is already over at yours helping your mum with dinner. Tonight you are all eating at yours, then tomorrow it’s the Styles’ turn to host, this is how you agreed this year.
“Woah, it smells amazing!” you call out walking into the house. The delicious smells fill up the whole place and you hear the two women giggling in the kitchen.
“Hi Honey, how was the market?” your mum greets you, a glass of red wine in her hand and the same goes for Anne.
“Great, we have a new mug,” you say holding up the emptied out hot chocolate mug. Stepping to the sink you wash it quickly and drying off you put it away in one of the cabinets.
You stick around in the kitchen and not so much later Harry comes over, the two of you leave your mums alone and get comfortable in front of the telly.
All channels are filled with holiday movies and you don’t mind, really, you like them all even if you’ve seen them a million times, you still find them funny and cute. Harry feels the same way, so when you settle on Love Actually he doesn’t say a word.
What startles you is that he grabs your ankles and pulls your legs over his lap, a small shriek escaping your mouth since you weren’t expecting him to do that. You’re sitting sideways, your legs are bent at the knee and Harry is kind of hugging them as his eyes are glued to the screen.
You find it rather hard to focus on the movie when Harry’s fingers keep fidgeting on your legs, they keep running up and down, sometimes he lays his hands flat on your knees, there’s no spot he hasn’t touched since you started watching the movie.
About an hour into the film he turns to you and you look at him in question.
“’M in the mood to cuddle,” he announces and starts moving around, not even letting you protest as he basically crawls to your lap, resting his head on your stomach as the two of you lay on the couch.
“Am I now your personal pillow?” you ask chuckling, but you wouldn’t want him to move for anything. Feeling him weigh down on you just feels so warm and simple but amazing.
“The best one,” he mumbles, bringing a hand to your side as you let your fingers comb through his curls.
You keep massaging his scalp and he lets out soft moans when you go over a soft spot, you can’t help but chuckle as he melts under your hands. His fingers start drawing circles on your side and the movie is long forgotten by you, all you can focus on is how great it is to have Harry so close to you. He is known to be a physical person, you are used to hugs and touches, but it seems like he is a little needier now than the usual.
You don’t mind it though, you just try to enjoy the moment, because it can end anytime.
Gemma and Michal come over a little before seven, and while your mums finish up the cooking the four of you set the table. You grab the crystal glasses and start placing them to the table, Harry lending you a hand. Once the table is all set you shuffle into the kitchen to see if there’s anything you can help with, Harry following you behind, placing a hand to the small of your back.
As you stand and wait for you mum to finish up the meals so you can help carry them to the table you feel Harry’s hand wander over to your hip, giving it a squeeze as he stands closer, so his chest is pressed against your back.
“Harry?” you ask a little out of breath.
“Hm?” he innocently hums.
“What’s with you today?” Turning your head to the side your eyes lock with his, but he just shrugs smiling.
“Guess I just missed yeh a lot.”
“You’re weird,” you chuckle shaking your head, but don’t make an effort to push him away. His touch feels way too good to put an end to it and you just want to be selfish a little longer.
His hands leave you when the two of you help to bring the food to the table, and you almost wish they would just return, but you gotta swallow the thought.
The food is amazing, as always. You all sip on some wine, just having a genuinely good time, enjoying that all of you are back at one place, something that rarely happens now that all three of you kids are all grown up.
At one point Harry rests his arm on the back of your chair, no one seems to notice but you. All these little things have been driving you crazy all day and your mind seems to be playing a nasty game with you. There’s no way Harry thinks of these details more than what they are, a friendly gesture towards an old friend of his.
When Gemma is telling a story about some weird guy she met at work Harry reaches up and pushes your hair behind your ear, his finger lingering over your neck a little longer than you would have expected. Turning to face him you give him a questioning look, not sure what to think about his needy and touchy self all of a sudden.
“What?” you mouth him, but he just smiles at you absentmindedly, curling a strand of hair around his finger, playing with it for a moment before letting go of it and going for another lock. You reach up and pull his hand away, feeling yourself heating up from his touch, but when you are about to let go of his hand he grabs yours, lacing your fingers together with yours as he rests them on his thigh.
“Harry…” you breathe out, glancing at the others, relieved to see that they are not paying much attention to the two of you.
“What? Am I not allowed to touch you?” he asks with a smug smirk and you roll your eyes at him.
“As I said, you’re weird,” you mumble under your breath looking down at your now empty plate. Harry gives your hand a squeeze.
“But like, the good kind of weird, yeah?”
“Shut up,” you chuckle shaking your head at him.
You try to tell yourself he is just needy because it’s been so long since you last saw each other. It can’t be more, you push even the smallest thought to the back of your mind, though it surely lingers there throughout the evening.
He helps you with washing the dishes, you stand arm to arm at the sink as you scrub the plates and hand over to him for drying. He gently hums to himself all along, swaying his hips, bumping against yours. At first you resist it, but then you catch the rhythm and start moving along, so your hips meet in the middle before swinging to the opposite side.
“What’s the song?” you ask finishing up the last plate.
“Just something random,” he shrugs smirking over at you. You hand him the last plate, he is still singing, making up gibberish lyrics to his song and once he puts the plate down he throws the kitchen cloth to the counter and easily grabs your waist pulling you against him as he starts swaying with you to his impromptu song. You let out a small shriek at the sudden movement, but eventually melt into his hold. The humming slowly turns into an all too familiar melody as Harry starts singing Sweet Creature into your ear, slow dancing in the kitchen while you hear your mums and Gemma laugh outside somewhere.
Your hands run up his arms and stop behind his neck as you lock your fingers and let him hold you close, his palms are pressed to your waist, fingers gently stroking you through the fabric of your shirt. You take a deep breath and his cologne fills your nose, one of your favorite scents, sometimes you just wish you could spray it on your pillow so it would always smell like him.
“Sweet creature, wherever I go, you bring me home…” he softly sings, leaning back just enough for your eyes to meet. It feels like your heart is about to burst out of your chest, it’s not the first time you feel so intimidated by him, like you could pass out any moment, but this is a little different. As if his eyes were telling you another story, but you can’t completely make up the words.
“Sweet creature, when I run out of road, you bring me home, you’ll bring me home.”
He finishes the song, hums the closing melody and you watch him in complete awe. Your lips part when you catch his gaze move down to them and you swear you see him leaning closer, as if he is about to kiss you. Your breath gets caught in your throat, he is so close, just a few more inches and you’d taste those perfect lips of his, the ones you’ve been dreaming about for way too long.
It almost happens, it seems, but just when that last push is about to set in Gemma waltz into the kitchen and you step back faster than light, pushing him away even though the sudden lack of his touch is more painful than you were expecting.
“You guys—Oh, what’s up?” she asks stopping at the door and you feel yourself getting redder with each passing moment, the heat crawling up your neck, ears cheeks, right to the top of your head. What were you thinking? You let yourself believe Harry would ever kiss you, this whole scene was nothing more than just a friendly moment the two of you were sharing.
“I’m—sorry,” you breathe out making your way out of the kitchen, right up to your room to have some well needed space.
“Way to ruin everything,” Harry snickers at his sister.
“You joking? You wanted to kiss her in her mum’s kitchen?” Gemma snaps at him in disbelief.
“We were having a moment,” he mumbles rubbing his face with his hands. “Up until you stomped in with your big mouth.”
“Well, if you were havin’ a moment, just make it happen again.”
“As if it’s that easy, Gemma!” he scoffs throwing his hands in the air.
“Man up and tell her how you feel, don’t have to complicate it too much,” she shrugs before walking out and leaving her brother alone. Harry growls in frustration, the gears in his head turning wildly as he is trying to figure out how to come clear to you about his feelings.
Meanwhile, up in your room you get out your laptop and busy yourself with checking up on messages and emails you’ve been ignoring, hoping that the uneasy feeling in your chest will ease very soon. Your hands were shaking when you locked yourself up in your room, but as you get focused on other tasks you slowly gain your balance back.
You kind of even forget that the Styles’ were over, you only realize that you abruptly pulled yourself out of the evening when there’s a soft knock on your door.
“Come on in!” you call out and a moment later Harry’s head pops in, eyes softly falling on your sitting figure on the bed. “Hey,” you smile at him faintly.
“Hey. Thought you were sleepin’s or summat.” Coming inside he closes the door behind him then sits on your plush rug in the middle of the room.
“Just… sorted some work related things out,” you sigh.
“Working during the holidays? Tha’s not healthy.”
“I know, I’m done,” you smile shutting the laptop down and putting it aside. “Sorry I disappeared, I just—“
“No worries,” Harry shakes his head. “Mum and Gems went home, they thought you were sleeping too, tha’s why they didn’t say goodbye.”
“Oh, alright.”
“But I thought we could have a sleepover,” he peeks at you with a boyish smile.
“What, like we did in middle school?” you chuckle.
“Yea, thought it would be fun.”
“Well, I don’t think my bed would fit us comfortably and we don’t have the mattress anymore that you used to sleep on,” you tell him looking around.
“Nonsense, I’m not tha’ big,” he insists hopping to his feet and throwing himself on the bed, ignoring that you’re already there. His body takes up more than half on the bed , limbs wrapping around you as he brings you down to the mattress next to him, you can’t help the laugh that leaves your lips.
“You’re like a gigantic baby, Harry!” you laugh as he keeps you down on the bed with his arm.
“It’s perfectly fine for two people,” he mumbles with a smirk, closing his eyes as his head sinks into your pillow.
“Do you ever get no as an answer?” you ask looking at him in awe. You can never get used to seeing him so up close, like not many get to.
“No,” he huffs in satisfaction, his arm bringing you closer to him and you just giggle at him.
“I’m not sleeping just yet, gotta have a shower first.”
“Do what you want, I’ll be here,” he mumbles but you snort at him.
“You’re not sleeping in my bed without having a shower,” you tell him before you grab your pajamas and head to the bathroom.
You have a quick shower and get done with all your evening business. Returning to your room you find Harry sitting on the floor, his back against the side of the bed as he is scrolling through his phone.
“Does mum know you’re staying over?” you ask him as you throw your used clothes into the hamper, moving around the room while feeling his eyes on you.
“Yeah. ‘S all good.”
“You need a towel?”
“Yes please,” he says pushing himself up from the floor.
“Clothes?” you ask with an arched brow. He just grins at you and it’s enough of an answer. “Here,” you give him the shirt and sweats he has left at yours quite some time ago, along with a clean towel.
“Thanks,” he smirks before leaving to occupy the bathroom.
He doesn’t take long in there, you’re lying in bed already when he returns, smelling like your shower gel, strawberry and melon.
He throws his clothes to the chair in the corner and then lies beside you on the bed. You scoot over to the wall to give him space, but he is quick to bring you closer to him once he has made himself comfortable. You lay your head on his shoulder as you are both scrolling through your phones.
When you had enough, you throw yours to the nightstand, and stay cuddled up to his side.
“Do you remember the last time I slept here?” he asks tossing his phone to the nightstand and bringing his arms around you.
“Mm, was it at my twentieth birthday?”
“Yeah. You were so wasted,” he chuckles and you smirk to yourself
“But you took good care of me.”
“I did. You were so cute, rambling about how much you love me when I took you home from the pub.”
You bite into your bottom lip. You still remember that night vividly. Your birthday party had gone a little wild and you had gotten drunker than you intended to. Luckily, he was there to bring your home and he stayed in the bathroom with you as you threw up everything you ate and drank that evening. Then he made you take a shower, got you fresh clothes out and helped you get into bed. He slept next to you that night, holding you in his arms, gently caressing your back and upper arm as you fell into your drunken slumber. In the morning you told yourself he just did what any other friend would do, helping you out when you were clearly knocked out, but he made you breakfast in the morning since your mum was working all night and morning and he stayed over later the afternoon to make sure you were alright.
What you told him in your drunken state about loving him, it wasn’t just your friendly side, it was your drunken self coming clear to him, telling him that you are in love with him, but he didn’t take it seriously and you were too ashamed and awkward to even bring it up to him after that, so it was all forgotten very soon.
Following that you planned on telling him how you feel, several times. You even wrote a little speech you planned to give him when the time comes, but you couldn’t do it. The fear of losing him if he doesn’t feel the same was stronger than you expected and every time you had the chance to come clear, you chickened out. The thought of losing him as a friend is way worse than having to push your feelings down... forever. You just can’t imagine your life without Harry in it and you can’t risk losing him.
The two of you talk for quite a while, laughing about the good old times, until you both fall asleep. Sometime in the middle of the night you wake up and feel Harry wrapped around you, his head lying on your chest as he is snoring softly. He truly is like a big baby, an arm thrown over your stomach, his legs tangled with yours. Good Lord, how amazing it feels to have him so close to you!
Reaching up you tangle your fingers through his hair gently so he doesn’t wake up, his soft curls glide between your fingers easily and lifting your head you kiss the top of his head before letting yourself drift back to sleep.
When you open your eyes the next time the situation is the opposite, you are the one cuddled up to Harry’s side who is scrolling through his phone with one hand, keeping the other one on your arm.
“Mornin’, sleepy head,” he chuckles softly when he sees you awake.
“Mmm, what time is it?” you ask letting your head rest on his chest a little longer.
“Quarter to nine. You can sleep a little more if you want, it’s not that late.”
“No, I promised mum I’d help her wrap gifts,” you sigh rolling over to your stomach as you push yourself up to your elbows to look at him. “Love the double chin you got going there,” you tease him sleepily and he just smirks.
“Yea? Quite cute, right? Worked a lot on it,” he jokes running his finger over it before letting out a chuckle. “Ready for our battle today?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be. You are going down this year, Styles,” you tell him pushing yourself up into a sitting position. Harry only pushes himself further on the bed enough to rest his head against the headboard.
“Oh really? I wouldn’t be that sure about tha’,” he warns you, but you are feeling pretty confident about your performance this year. There’s no way he can top it.
“We’ll see. Alright, I need a coffee. Want something for breakfast?” you ask him crawling out of the bed.
“Yeah, that would be nice.”
Your mum is already in the kitchen, sipping on her morning coffee while reading the paper. She doesn’t find it even a bit weird that Harry spent the night at yours, it’s been quite the usual for you. Harry helps you make eggs and bacon and the three of you eat together, having a lovely time and you genuinely feel like it’s just like in the good old times when you were still living home and Harry wasn’t Harry Styles, but the boy from across the street.
He goes home after breakfast to help his own mum with the cooking for tonight’s dinner and you don’t do much for the rest of the day, just spend time with your mum, watch movies and relax. It’s nice to unwind after such a busy year behind you.
Not long before five you go to take a shower and get ready to head over to the Styles’ and you pack everything you’ll need for the evening: gifts, ugly sweater, accessories. Harry is going down this year for sure.
It’s a little past six when you and your mum walk across the street, Anne’s Christmas lights are putting the little town house into the spirit for sure. You don’t even ring the bell, just walk straight in, like you always do. The Christmas tree stands tall in their living room and the table is already nicely set. Gemma and Michal are snuggled up on the couch while Harry is helping Anne in the kitchen with the finishing touches.
“I’m rooting for you this year,” Gemma winks at you when you set down your bag in the corner that has everything you’ll need for your performance.
“He’s gonna lose this round,” you smirk proudly, very sure in yourself.
Harry greets you with a bright smile and a tight hug when he walks into the living room, as if you didn’t just see each other a few hours earlier.
When the food is ready you all sit down to eat, and though you’re trying your best to focus on the conversation, you’re getting excited about tonight’s karaoke battle.
“Anxious much?” Harry asks you quietly.
“Why are you asking?”
He doesn’t answer, just places a hand to your thigh stopping it from shaking, making you realize you’ve been probably bouncing it all along. He smirks at you as you just roll your eyes at him.
“’S okay, you can handle one more year of losing,” he teases you and you give him an arched eyebrow.
“Don’t be so full of yourself, Harry,” you warn him, but he just squeezes your thigh again before bringing his hands back up to the table, leaving you a little breathless with his touch.
You all help clean up the table after dinner and when it’s done, you gather in the living room to open gifts.
When Harry’s career launched, the first few years you felt anxious about gifting him, because you felt like you couldn’t give him enough. He had all the money and bought everything he needed for himself, there wasn’t much you could give him. But when one time, you admitted to him this struggle of yours he assured you that it doesn’t matter what you give him, it’ll always be precious to him.
“You thought about me, you took the time to buy something for me, and that’s more than enough, Y/N,” he told you and though it took you time, but you got used to it. Especially when you saw the same excitement in his eyes every time you gifted something to him, you slowly but surely realized he wasn’t expecting a Gucci suit, but a thoughtful gesture.
Gathering in the living room you open the presents one by one and just as always, everyone was quite creative with the gifts. You can’t help but still feel a little anxious when Harry grabs his gift from you. Giving you an excited look he unties the little bow on the top and tears the wrapping paper off.
“Y/N!” he breathes out, eyes softening as he pulls the knitted cardigan out of the box.
“I always saw you wearing all sorts of cardigans and so I finally had a reason to learn how to knit, so I thought I would make one for you,” you ramble as he holds up the baby blue cardigan that has little daisies all over the front. It took you an entire week to just make the daisies, you worked on the whole cardigan for more than two months, usually in the middle of the night, staying up until unholy hours to finish in time.
But Harry’s smile is worth it all, he is beaming, clearly so in love with what you made him, so you breathe out relieved. He then puts it aside and wraps his arms around you pulling you into the tightest hug.
“Thank you, I love it so much,” he mumbles and kisses your temple and you breathe in his sweet scent, burying yourself in his embrace, hugging his waist.
When you part, Harry reaches for a box from under the tree and hands it to you, a nervous smile tugging on his lips. You can tell he wrapped the gift himself, the silver wrapping paper is a little uneven, but the huge rainbow colored bow on the top is the perfect touch that makes it like a piece of him.
You carefully tear the paper off, peeking inside you just see a plain box that doesn’t give much away. Glancing up at Harry you see how he is anxiously biting his bottom lip, even though you’d be happy with a gift as small as a candle. It’s the thought that counts.
“I-I wasn’t sure if this was the one you mentioned to me, so I hope it’s gonna be alright,” he mumbles, eyes fixed on your hands as they open the box, while you try to think back what you have told him about that caught his attention, but you just can’t recall what you wanted to get so badly you told Harry about it.
As you open the box you don’t process what it is immediately, the plastic wrapper making it hard to figure it out, but when you carefully pull out the object, you gasp in surprise.
“Harry!” you breathe out as you pull off the plastic of the old, vintage polaroid camera. It’s not one of these new types you can buy in stores easily, this is a classic, must have quite a history behind it.
Now you vaguely remember talking about longing for an oldschool, vintage camera, but it was months ago and you’ve forgotten about the whole thing since these devices cost a fortune because there aren’t many left from them. But now there’s one in your hands, because Harry not only listened to you, but he remembered and went out of his way to find you one in amazing condition.
“This must have cost a fortune!” you huff, your heart pounding in your chest, though you already know it doesn’t matter to him.
“This face is worth every penny,” he smiles at you softly before you throw yourself at him for another round of hugging. This man surely knows how to have you wrapped around his fingers.
The two of you sit on the floor as you figure out how to make the camera work, Harry bought everything needed, so you have a few packs of films as well. When it’s all done you bring it up to your face and aim it at Harry. It takes him a moment to realize that you’re about to snap your first photo and he tries to snatch the camera away, but it’s too late, the flash goes off and the device pushes out the undeveloped picture.
“You wasted your first snap on me?” he protests rubbing his eyes after the flash blinded him for a little.
“It’s not a waste,” you tell him as you patiently wait for the picture to finally appear.
Slowly, the colors start to show and in a couple of minutes Harry’s face appears, his hand reaching in the direction of the camera, looking out of focus, only his face appearing clearly. He looks so delicate, his eyes dazzling as a soft smile plays on his lips. This moment now will live forever not just in your mind, but on this photo.
Harry goes out with his karaoke performance this year for sure and you’d be actually anxious about him winning if only you didn’t have the absolutely best performance right in your pocket.
His sweater this year features some really ugly looking penguins and a horroristic reindeer on the back, it’s really ugly and you can’t even imagine who thought it would be fine to make it and then sell it. His choice of music is also excellent, he has a great eye for songs you’d never imagine him perform and then shock everyone with it. This year, he chose Rude Boy by none other than Rihanna, and it’s fantastic, no one can make it through the song without crying. Harry makes sure to put on his best show, even dancing and twerking unapologetically, trying everything to win the battle and you are amazed by his effort. Above all the fun and jokes, he nails the song, that’s undeniable. It always baffles you how he can just slay any and all genres, even the ones that stand a million miles away from his style.
When the song is over, you all cheer for him, because he truly deserves it. He grins down at you in victory, but you just give him a challenging smirk.
“You can just give up now, if you want,” he teases you as you stand up from the couch and the two of you trade places.
“Oh, I think you should be the one to worry about losing,” you warn him grabbing your bag. Stepping to Gemma you whisper into her ear, instructing her to put on your song when you call out from the bathroom, since you are planning on do a grandiose entrance. When she hears what song you’ll be singing she gasps.
“Oh my fucking God, no way!” he looks at your with wide eyes.
“What? What is it?” Harry asks, dying to know what you just told his sister, but you shake your head at him.
“Patience,” you tell him before locking yourself up in the bathroom.
This year, you didn’t find the sweater, the sweater found you. On one of your thrift tours, you were digging up a huge pile of clothes when you came right across it and you knew what you needed to do.
Putting on the sweater you fix up your hair quickly before putting on your party glasses, the one that lights up if you switch it on. You take one last look at yourself in the mirror and smirk at your reflection knowing well you’ll have everyone dead when you walk out.
“Gemma! You can start it!” you call out with your hand on the doorknob, waiting to hear the music. Gemma quickly starts in and you haven’t even stepped out, you can hear a round of gasps.
Best Song Ever blasts through the speakers and you walk out trying your best to imitate a younger version of Harry, wearing the absolute ugliest Christmas sweater ever, that has the faces of One Direction all over it, filling up every inch of the fabric, and all of them have poorly photoshopped Santa hats on, it’s just literal trash and ridiculously perfect for the battle.
You grab the mic and start singing as everyone screams in the room. You jump, sing and even do the dance moves the boys do in the original music video, and when you look at Harry you see him staring at you in disbelief and total defeat. Everyone knows you won, nothing can top this performance ever and you could burst from the sweet feeling of victory.
By the end of the song everyone is up on their feet dancing and singing with you, a mini party forming in the middle of the living room and you all scream the last lines as the song comes to its end.
“I think we don’t even need to vote this time,” you say when the music stops, everyone screaming in agreement while Harry stares down at you, trying to hide his growing smirk.
“Where did you even find this?” he asks chuckling as he takes a better look at the sweater.
“At a thrift store, it called out my name, knew it’d be perfect.”
“It really is ugly, if I’m being honest,” he sighs, his eyes meeting yours again. “And the song… I accept defeat, you earned this victory, Y/N,” he tells you bowing and admitting your victory.
Later that night everyone is so keen on watching Holiday, you agree to stay even though you feel your eyelids heavily weighing down, threatening to close with each passing moment. You let your head rest on Harry’s shoulder and he presses his cheek against the crown of your head.
It’s not a surprise you fall asleep halfway into the movie, but what you weren’t expecting is to wake up and find yourself not on the couch anymore, but in Harry’s bed. It’s dark, only the moon is shining through his windows and as you turn to the right you see that he is sleeping peacefully next to you on his back, one arm spread next to him, hand hanging from the edge, the other one resting on his stomach, rising and falling in a slow rhythm.
Squinting your eyes you look at the digital clock on his dresser, it reads 3:23 am so you’ve been asleep for quite a few hours now. You don’t even remember him bringing you up here, but you’re definitely not mad that he didn’t bring you home, just up to his room.
Rolling to your side you give yourself a moment to adorn his beauty without fearing he would catch your wandering eyes. Everything seems so perfect about him, the line of his nose, his cupid’s bow that delicately rolls into her lips. The crease between his eyebrows, his soft skin on his cheeks, down his neck that runs into his broad shoulders and inked, strong arms. You truly think there’s no man that could compare to him and you are lucky enough to live your life so close to him, be able to touch him, hear his voice whenever you miss him, see his smile and share a connection with him.
It’s so silly, but you think of him as your personal ray of sunshine in your life. Just the smallest things about him can brighten your worst day, he’ll always have a special place in your heart, no matter where life takes the two of you.
Watching him sleeping you allow yourself to break free from your doubts and fears and scooting closer you shyly curl up to his side, your head resting on his shoulder, but you can’t even make yourself comfortable before you feel him moving under you.
Sucking on your breath you think he’ll push you away, not wanting you so close, but instead, he pulls his arm from under you, curling around your frame as he pulls you tight to him, almost making you lie on top of him. Your whole body is pressed against him and you mingle a leg between his long ones under the soft sheets. You let out a long huff at the warm touch of his body against your skin, completely lost in him.
“You alright?” he mumbles in his sleep laced voice, his eyes remain closed.
“Yeah. Is this okay?” you nervously ask as you lay your hand flat on his stomach. He brings his hand that was hanging from the bed on his other side and covers yours, as he squeezes you tight to his side.
“’M all yours,” he breathes out, his words sending a shiver down your spine. You’re sure he didn’t mean it like that, but it warmed your heart to hear it from him and you let your mind play with the thought that there was more behind his words than a friendly manner.
Nuzzling your head into his chest you close your eyes and listening to his steady heartbeat you let yourself fall back asleep.
Your morning is filled with coffee, pancakes, laughter and great company. Harry doesn’t let you leave without having breakfast with them, so you sit with the Styles family and laugh about the craziest stories from your teenage years.
“Remember when we tried to run away?” Harry grins at you, his red mug that had white polka dots all over it in his hands as he eyes you.
“Oh, how could I forget that?” you huff and Gemma turns to you with surprise in her eyes.
“Wait, I didn’t know about that!”
“Because we didn’t get too far,” Harry laughs. “We were, what, like fifteen?”
“Yeah, it was a few weeks after my fifteenth birthday,” you nod smiling.
“I had a fight with mum about God knows what, then stormed over to Y/N’s and talked her into running away. So we packed our backpacks and left.”
“Where did you go?” Michal asks with an amused grin as he listens to the story.
“We didn’t want to go into town, running into anyone we know, so we thought we would just go straight out to the meadow that’s there,” Harry says gesturing towards the window. The edge of the town is not so war, and a huge meadow lies there, a little stream running across it. “We walked for quite long, but then it started to get dark and we had nowhere to go, so we just ended up coming back home. No one even noticed we were gone, they thought we just went out to bike or something,” he finishes laughing.
“You knew about this?” Gemma asks Anne.
“Yeah, he came clear the next day, thinking he would piss me off with it, but I didn’t care, he came back for dinner, so it was alright,” Anne explains laughing.
It’s been so long since it happened, but I still remember it vividly, only that it was a more dramatic memory back then, now I can only laugh at it.
“We should go for a walk today,” Harry prompts to you.
“Wanna run away again?” you tease him.
“Always,” he chuckles.
You help cleaning up and agree with Harry to meet outside in an hour to take a walk to the meadow. Going home you take a shower and wash the dishes your mum left in the sink when she left for her morning shift. You put on a pair of boyfriend jeans, a warm sweater and your jacket with your trusty boots and you walk out the house right when Harry steps out as well. He grins in your way as the two of you meet in the middle of the street. He holds his arm out for you.
“M’ lady?” he smirks as you link your arm with his and the two of you head out for your little walk. It’s a gloomy day, might rain later as well, but it’s dry so far, so you’re just hoping to get home before it starts raining. Your runaway attempt wasn’t the only time the two of you came out here, it was kind of your place when you felt like having a break from everyone else. You biked out here, brought your favorite snacks and just ran around, enjoying the stillness.
However it also holds a bitter memory as well.
A little further down among the trees happened Harry’s first kiss and you witnessed it, feeling your heart break to a million pieces when you saw him lock lips with someone who wasn’t you.
Debby Hamilton was a friend of yours in sixth grade, you’d say, your only friend beside Harry and the three of you often hung out together around that time. Debby was a delight, you always desired to be more like her, boys liked her and she knew it damn well, but it didn’t make her cocky and egoistic. You always thought Harry had a crush on her, why would have he? They kind of looked cute together.
It was a Friday afternoon and Harry asked if you wanted to come out and listen to his new cassette he got for his old Walkman he refused to get rid of as technology was evolving. You figured he’d want Debby there as well so you invited her along, but didn’t tell Harry. He never made a move on Debby and you thought he was just looking for the right time.
That afternoon, you were supposed to meet them out there at five, but you didn’t leave until half past five and it takes about twenty minutes to get out there. Though you gave them the alone time technically, it still startled you when you found them under one of the oak trees, Debby leaning her back against the tree as Harry stood in front of her. She was smiling up at him sweetly, saying something to him and you were just about to call out for them and apologize for being late when Harry ducked his head and kissed Debby right in front of your eyes.
That was your first and probably worst heartbreak and you were only twelve. You felt betrayed, hopeless and naïve to think Harry would ever have a thing for you when there were girls like Debby. You left without letting them know you were there. When Harry asked you later why you didn’t come you told him you felt sick to your stomach, which wasn’t a total lie, you had quite the nausea after seeing Harry with Debby, but he didn’t have to know all the details.
He later told you about kissing Debby and you pretended like you didn’t know about it. However they never dated and not long after their kiss Debby drifted away from the two of you. Not that you minded, you had a bitter feeling every time you had to look at her after that, jealousy raging in your chest knowing that she got Harry’s first kiss.
He didn’t bring it up after and you weren’t keen on talking about it, but you still know which tree they were standing under and now as you near the area you see that it still stands tall near the tiny stream.
Peeking up at Harry you see that his eyes are focused on the same tree, but then he catches you looking.
“Memories?” you innocently ask, feeling your chest tightening. You don’t even know why you asked. It’s been over a decade since that kiss, you are both adults, but you still can’t help the sadness that washes over you at just the thought, why would you want to get him talk about it now?
“’S just… that’s the tree I kissed Debby when I was twelve,” he mumbles with a shrug. Biting into your bottom lip you look at the old oak tree nodding your head and before you could stop yourself, you speak up.
“I know.”
“What? How would you? I never told you,” Harry asks stopping, a puzzled look pulling on his face.
“Well I… It doesn’t matter,” you sigh, regretting ever opening your mouth.
“It does. Tell me!” he pleads standing in front of you.
“I know it, because… I was here.”
“You what?”
“I came, I was just very late. And when I arrived you two were standing there and I saw you kiss. I thought I shouldn’t interrupt whatever was happening so I went home and let you two be,” you explain, changing it up a little bit.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why is it important that I saw it? It doesn’t change anything, right?” you ask with a smile that you intended to look innocent, but deep down it’s filled with pain.
Harry opens his mouth as if he wants to say something, but then remains silent and you are done talking about it, so you just quietly keep walking, Harry catching up with you a few moments later.
It’s awfully quiet after your revelation, it seems like Harry is deep in his thoughts and though you’re dying to know what’s occupying his bright thoughts, you’re kind of afraid you’d hear something you didn’t want to.
The two of you soon head back home and slowly, but you forget about the whole Debby thing. Harry starts talking again, but he looks a little keyed up still when you reach your street.
“Wanna come over later?” you ask standing on the pavement in front of your house, it’s just an innocent question. Harry nods his head.
“Sure. Is your mum working?” he asks glancing at the house, though he knows she is, the car is not on the driveway.
“Yeah. She’ll be home around six.”
He nods again and you want to ask if he is alright, but you decide not to. You share a quick hug before he heads over to his home and you do the same. The house waits for you in silence and when the door clicks behind you, it weighs down on you heavier than you were expecting. You hang your jacket, kick your boots off and throw yourself to the couch, covering your eyes with your arm as you huff out in frustration. You feel silly for getting upset about such a small thing even after so much time, but you just can’t help it.
You barely realize the sound of the front door opening, taking your arm off your eyes you see Harry walk in, eyebrows furrowed, a worried look on his handsome face.
“Harry—“
“I was waiting for you that day,” he simply says as you sit up with wide eyes, confused about what he is really talking about.
“What?”
“That day, we agreed to meet out there to listen to my new Stevie Wonder cassette, but you didn’t show up, Debby did even though I didn’t invite her out there.”
“Well, I did, thought you wanted her there too,” you explain, startled by the situation.
“I would have invited her if I wanted her to be there, but I wanted to be with you. Only you.”
“I-I’m sorry?” you breathe out, not seeing where he is going with it.
“Y/N, you don’t understand,” he huffs and he is right. You don’t. “I wanted to meet you, but you never came, or at least I thought. Then Debby showed up, I was frustrated that you weren’t there and she was being all nice, telling me how cute I looked when I was worried and it all just happened so fast and… I didn’t even want to kiss her.” He looks properly upset telling you the story and he takes a deep breath before his eyes meet yours with a hard stare. “I wanted to be with you,” he repeats.
“Harry, I’m sorry, I didn’t—“
He shakes his hair, not even letting you finish, because he knows what you wanted to say and that you still don’t understand the meaning behind his words.
“Y/N, I wanted to kiss you,” he then finally says and you suck on your breath as he continues. “Well, not right then and there, but I’ve been meaning to kiss you, I just didn’t know when. I thought that if we have a moment that afternoon I’d do it, but you never came and I was mad and disappointed. I hated myself for kissing Debby, because I didn’t really want to, it just… happened. I wanted to tell you, and I intended to do it when I told you we kissed, but you acted so happy, I figured you didn’t feel the same way about me as I did for you. So I didn’t tell you the rest, but…” He sighs in defeat, looking for words, but he ran out.
“Why are you telling this to me now?” you ask a little out of breath, your head feeling heavy at the new information you just heard.
“Why didn’t you tell me you saw us and why did you go home without a word?” he asks ignoring your question.
“I… don’t—“
“Don’t try to lie.”
Gulping hard you lick your dried lips as you stare back at him.
“Because I was… jealous.” Your voice comes out only as a whisper. Harry’s lips part as he takes two steps closer to you.
“You had feelings for me?” he asks and you just nod your head, not trusting yourself with your voice. “Do you still have feelings for me?”
“I do,” you whisper your answer and Harry lets out a sharp breath as he leaps across the room in your way. You jump to your feet, thinking that he’ll lash out on your for keeping it a secret and you open your mouth to explain yourself, but you never get to speak up because as Harry reaches you, one hand snaps to the back of your neck, the other one to your waist, yanking you against him as his lips crash to yours.
You gasp in surprise, but it doesn’t take long to kiss him back, your numb mind blindly reacting to his sudden action. Your hands snake up to the back of his neck as you pull him closer, returning his hungry kisses. His soft lips feel so smooth and warm against yours and when his tongue runs along your bottom lip you whimper letting your tongues meet in the middle.
He is intoxicating and it doesn’t help that your adrenaline level is up in the sky, you’ve fantasized about it way too many times, and now that it’s happening your body is burning in flames. He kisses you all over and over again, his body pressing against yours hard and when he even leans in making you lean back, you lose balance and the two of you fall to the couch, both of you gasping as you are forced to part your lips.
“Fuck,” you chuckle as Harry is basically lying on you, holding himself up on his arms, but you feel him everywhere.
“’M sorry, I got a little carried away, but I’ve been dying to do this since forever,” he admits chuckling as he lifts his head and looks down at you with those bright green eyes of his.
“Really?” you breathe out, only slowly processing what’s really just happened.
“Y/N, I’ve been in love with you since I first saw you hiding behind your mum.”
“Idiot, you were just a kid, you weren’t in love,” you chuckle, running up your hands to the back of his neck, your fingers playing with the soft curls. He smirks and nuzzles his nose against yours.
“Oh, I was, I just didn’t know it yet.” Leaning down he pecks your lips softly. “I’ve been meaning to tell you so many times, but I didn’t want it to ruin our friendship. Though I was growing impatient these last few years.”
“Yeah?” you chuckle.
“You can’t imagine,” he huffs shaking his head. I almost kissed you the other day in the kitchen, but Gemma completely ruined the moment.”
“I’m sorry I ran away, I was just—“
“No need to apologize. I guess it all played out well after all, right?” he smirks and you can’t help but chuckle.
“I guess,” you breathe out and the smile slowly fades from your lips. “And now what?” you ask quietly, staring up at him.
“Now… We’ll try to make things work. Test the waters. I’m very serious about this, Y/N,” he tells you. “I’ve been waiting for this my whole life so I’m not gonna let go of you now.”
“You have no idea how happy this is making me,” you choke out feeling the tears forming in your eyes.
“Oh Love, please don’t cry,” he begs and leaning down he kisses your tears away. “I’m right here, with you. Sorry it took me so long you get here, but I’m here now.”
“I know,” you huff blinking away the tears as you pull him down and press your lips to his. “I love you, Harry,” you whisper against his perfect lips. You feel him exhale sharply as he keeps kissing you before he lifts his head so your eyes meet again.
“I’ve always loved you.”
Thank you for reading, let me know what you thought about it!
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Need You.
Author’s Note: Hello! After answering tons and tons of asks, and explaining how Tumblr had deleted the second part “Please Stay” to my one shot named “Only If” for god knows what reasons. I had to do this for you guys. I stopped writing years ago, and but kept my masterlist open for you to come and read my writings whenever you wish to. Trust me, this was so effing difficult for me to do! but I’m kind of proud that I removed the time and managed it. but let me inform you it’s not the same, because I do not remember what happened in the original one clearly. I hope this is a better and hopefully more well-written (amongst my other writings *cringe*) version of the old one.
It’s not proof read. I haven't edited it, so I’m sorry in advance for the typos.
So, guys, gals and non-binary pals, I present to you (apology for it being light years late) the part two to your favourite little creation of mine “Only If”, with a new identity... please welcome “Need You”!
Do let me know how it makes you feel in the ask box or comment section. I love reading them. Happy Reading!
Word Count: 5K
Warnings: tons of angst with tons of fluff, sensitive harry???? (or do you guys call it sub!harry nowadays??) anyways it’s a cute!harry :P !
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It’s been four hours, and you still weren’t back. Though it wasn’t new for you to go for a drive after an argument with him, you often came back within an hour or two. The blizzard outside was making Harry quite anxious. Even though the fight was extreme, he wanted you back safe and sound. He now realised how harsh he was on you. You didn’t intentionally leak the song. It was a mistake and it could happen to anyone, himself included. He felt guilty over the way he yelled at you; it wasn’t like him to react like that.
Suddenly, Harry felt the need to do something special for you. Though he planned on apologising to you verbally, he wanted his actions to prove it too. He made his way to the kitchen to cook you your favourite meal. He got a hold of his phone and switched on the playlist which include all the songs both of you enjoyed. the sound of the vessels clucking against each other minimised over the song playing on through the speakers.
A smile lit up on his face as he reminisced back to the moment when you were dancing to this song while making the two of you breakfast.
FLASHBACK
Harry rubbed his eyes as he walked down the stairs, his dimpled smile already making its appearance when he heard your voice blasting through the kitchen entrance. He didn’t know why you bothered turning the song on so loud, you were anyways going to be louder. He stopped at the kitchen entrance, a silent laugh escaped him as he leaned against the door frame and took in the scene going on in front of him.
“You say you want a good time! Well here I am, baby, here I am, baby” you belted out loud, cheeks turning red with the happiness radiating out of you. You’d decided that the whisk was your microphone of choice with batter stuck to it and everything. You’re moving those luscious hips which drive him crazy right to the rhythm of the song.
“Talk to me, talk to me, talk to me talk to me, tell me what's on your mind!” you missed a note but you don’t care. This scene right in front of him, he wished he could capture and watch it forever. Bruno Mars did bring a wild side out of you, and he couldn’t bring himself to be jealous of the multi-talented singer. He would give anything to see you like this. Knowing you’re the shy type who doesn’t enjoy too much of attention, getting to watch you like this was definitely a sight.
He walked right up to you and wrapped his arms around you slowly. You jumped in a scare, as you were lost in your own world. “Harry! You scared me.” You complained, trying to ignore the blush on you cheeks after you realised he must’ve been watching you from a far.
He nuzzled into your neck and sighed, while pressing a kiss there, “Hmm… I’m sorry, m’love. But you just looked so beautiful I didn’t want to stop you.” He murmured while pressing more kisses to your neck, then trailing them up to your jawline. “Y’ look utterly ravishing right now. Forget pancakes, instead I’ll have you for breakfast.” He smiled and went on to kiss your cheeks. His comments made you smile. He saw his chance and lightly bite the side of your cheek. You squealed and tried to push him away.
“H, stop!” you laughed. He tightened his arms around you and swayed to the beat of the song then went on to sing next lyric “Tell me baby, tell me, tell me baby what you tryna do!” he slightly lifted up your t-shirt and moved one of his hands under it, and muttered, “huh? What are you trying to do to me, baby?” and pressed yet another kiss to your cheek.
“Gosh, your hands are extremely cold!” you gasped. He then turned you around to face him. You instinctively wrapped your arms around him. The two of you smiled quietly towards each other, then he leaned down to kiss you properly. You shifted one of your hands into his the nape of his neck and the other went on to cup his cheek. He moved one of his around your shoulder and the other around your waist. Both of you sighed and bathed in each other’s presence.
“G’morning, froggy” you teased as pulled away first and smiled up at him. He frowned and tutted, then smacked your ass lightly. You always teased him for his morning face, said it looked like a cute frog. He rubbed the area he spanked and quickly pecked you once again before pulling away to look at you.
Brushing away the hair stuck to your face, “Morning, precious. How’re you feeling?” he asked, hugging you towards his chest. Let’s just say the rest of the day went on just like this. Him being needy for your attention, and you loving on him without any hold backs.
END OF FLASHBACK
Right as he was getting ready to plate the dish, the doorbell rang. He smiled, happy to finally have you home. He quickly washed his hands and walked up to the door as he rubbed his hand dry with the towel which was once on his shoulder. He buzzed you in thinking you’ll unlock the main door with the security code. But after two minutes of waiting and not seeing you walk through the door, he turned on the camera above his buzzer to see what was wrong.
He frowned when he saw two police officers standing outside his door. His heart suddenly started racing at rapid speed. He rushed towards the door and unlocked them. Coming face to face with the two sombre looking men, he tentatively asked, “G’ evening, officers. How may I help you?”
The two men exchanged looks and the tall one replied, “Sir, there has been an accident and we found an ID on the victim. Is this Ms. Y/N Y/L/N residence? we’re here to inform you about the unfortunate event.”
“I-I don’t understand? What happened?” he stuttered, his legs almost felt as if they were about to give up.
“Unfortunately, we don’t have much information for you. May we ask what’s your relation to the victim?” the other officer asked, and gave him an apologetic smile.
“Fiancé.” He cleared his throat, trying to calm himself down. He could feel his panic attack rising. “I’m her fian-” he shook his head, “Just tell me where she is please…” he pleaded and quickly put on his shoes. He took his car keys and raced up to his rover.
“She’s over at St. Thomas, Mr. Styles.” The officers had clearly recognised the distressed man. “Here’s her ID. We hope everything is well.”
Harry couldn’t bring himself to thank them as he started his car and backed out of the parking spot. He raced up to the hospital, and once he reached, he ran up to the reception.
“Y-Y/N Y/L/N? S-She just c-came in? I’m her f-fiancé?” He gasped out your name. The lady was busy tending to others to notice him. “Hey! Hey! Please ma’am just tell me where she is!” he was on the verge of weeping in front of her.
The old lady looked at him with a bit of annoyance, “Take a breath, young man. I’m trying my best here!” She walked up to him. “Now tell me, what was her name again?”
“Y/N Y/L/N!” He rushed. He couldn’t stand straight. Once he got what he wanted, he ran towards the elevator, up to the fifth floor. The corridor was busy and he couldn’t care less about pushing people aside. He just wanted to get to you as soon as he could. He found your door and barged in, not caring about the doctors around your bed.
“Y/N!” He rushed to your side, dropping beside your bed.
“Sir you can’t be her-” the male nurse tried to pull him back.
“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry, precious!” He cried, trying to get the man off of him and get back to you. “I’m here now, okay? I’m not going anywhere- GET OFF ME. SHE NEEDS ME!” he yelled pushing the guy away.
“Hey man you’re no good to her at the moment yeah? Let the doctors do their job!” the nurse tried to make him understand while pulling him back yet again. Tears streamed down his face as he tried to reach to you. He sobbed over your state, blood was streaming down your forehead, and all he wanted to do was protect you and wrap his arms around you.
“No I need to be here! Please let me!” he cried. All of sudden a beep brought his cries to a halt. He looked around frantically wanting to know what had happened. “W-What’s wrong?!” he hiccupped.
The doctor and the nurses around him started rushing around the room. He then heard those words which made his heart stop, “She has flat-lined! Someone pass me the defibrillator!” the doctor raised his voice.
Harry couldn’t believe this was happening. The nurse had enough of the unwilling man and pushed him out the door, “Sir we cannot help her if you’re being difficult. Please calm down and go to the waiting room. We will inform you about her doing as soon as we can.” and then shut the door to his face. Harry could no longer see you. The group of doctors, covered your body.
He slid down the wall next to your door and sobbed into his hands. Only if he would’ve stopped you from leaving. Only if he would’ve told you that he forgives you and that he loved you more than anything. Only if he would’ve let the argument die and kiss you instead. Only if…
Later, the upset man walked himself to the toilet. He caught his reflection in the mirror. He didn’t care about his red swollen eyes, his sweaty forehead and matted hair. The image of you lying on that bed yet again brought tears to his eyes. The thought of you not making it made him retch and he rushed into one of the restrooms. He dry-heaved and cried. Once he was able to breathe, he took out his phone.
Sniffling as he dialled the only number he could think of, The voice on the other side made him breakdown. “Mum I-” he couldn’t complete his sentence, as he tried to wipe his eyes.
“Harry? Darling what’s wrong?!” she asked shocked at her son’s rapid breathing.
“Y/N s-she is- Mum I can’t lose her. I’m such an idiot. I shouldn’t have let her leave. What if she doesn’t make it?” He wept while running his sticky fingers through his hair.
“Love, what-” she tried to ask him, but he cut her off.
“What if she…What if she dies, mum?” he cried and coughed.
His mother had figured out by now that you were not okay, and might be admitted in the hospital. She tried to calm her son through the phone. Unfortunately, she wasn’t near him and by the time she would reach it might not be enough. So she did the only thing she could once Harry hung up the phone, she rang up his friends.
Harry sat himself down on one of the wating room chairs. No one was telling him anything, he had no idea how you were doing or if you were okay. He was out of tears, and soon enough the exhaustion took over him. He didn’t even realise when he had fallen asleep until he felt a hand brush the back of his head. He opened his eyes and saw his two friends crouching in front of him.
“Hey buddy…” Louis smiled softly. Harry jolted back up, and got up to run towards your room. But before he could stand up straight Mitch stopped him. “H, they just came in here to inform us about her condition.”
“How’s she? Is she okay? Is she awake? She needs me, I need to be beside her.” He rushed. His two close friends, tried to calm him down.
“They said she’s stable now, mate. But we aren’t allowed to meet her yet, okay?” Louis stated.
Harry took deep breaths and looking at their extremely destressed friend, Louis pulled him into a hug. Getting the comfort he desperately needed, Harry started sobbing again. He was tired of crying but he couldn’t bring himself to stop.
“Everything is going to be okay, Harry. She’s our little tigress, she’s going to pull through, yeah?” Mitch ran a hand drown his friend’s shoulder. Harry nodded lightly and tried to slow down his heart.
48 Hours Later
It’s been two days, yesterday Harry was allowed to visit you since they moved you out of the ICU. Thankfully, your internal recovery was rapid, and you could wake up anytime. He was getting a bit impatient. He wanted to see you open those shiny eyes and look at him the way you always did, with so much love that made him giddy and flustered. These past two days he’s been talking to you, continuously apologising for his behaviour, and how he’s going to make up for everything that went wrong. You just had to come back to him.
“and then Louis got frustrated because Mitch was not answering him. But that’s Mitch for you, right?” he slightly smiled and ran the hand which wasn’t holding you hand, through your hair. “You’re going to hate your hair, once you wake up. You always like them a certain way, don’t you? But don’t you worry, I’ll help you wash your hair as soon as you wake up and come back home.” He stated and kissed your hand. He was silent for a while, just continued to run his hand through your hair.
“You’re going to come back to me, right precious?” he asked quietly, “Why aren’t you waking up, huh? Your froggy needs you to open your eyes....” he continued, as he forced a laugh out of his throat which had a huge lump in it. His eyes turned misty as he continued, “I hate it here. Seeing you like this is a nightmare. I miss you so much. I miss you calling me annoying little names. I miss you smacking me when I’m being a narcissistic little prick. I miss your voice. I miss everything about you, and even though it’s just been two day, I feel like it’s been forever. Wake up, baby. Please…” he pleaded.
As the day turned into night, Harry decided to stay back. He asked for an extra blanket and a pillow for his makeshift bed on the couch. He didn’t know why he bothered because he spent the entire night sitting beside you, holding your hand as he fell asleep leaning against it.
You could listen before you could see. The only thing you could hear was the air conditioner and someone lightly snoring against your right hand. You tried to move your fingers as you opened your eyes. The bright light made you squint, you blinked rapidly as your vision cleared. You turned to your right and saw Harry’s peaceful face sleeping against your hand. You felt the need to clear your throat, and your eyes searched the room for a glass of water. But the sound made Harry wake up from his sleep. He lifted his face and wiped the little drool from his face and the little amount on your hand.
“whoops, you’d kill me now if you were awak-” he turned to look at your face, and he had to double take. He gasped, almost falling off this chair. “Y/N…Oh my- you’re awake!” he nearly yelled. He pressed the button to call the nurse and then cupped your face going on to press kisses to your face, “Baby I was so scared. I thought I had lost you!” He laughed his airy laugh and looked at you with utter happiness.
For some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. The words he said to you were the only thing swimming through your mind. For you time had stood still, like the fight had happened mere hours ago. You moved your face away from his hands. Harry frowned noticing this change in your mood.
“Hey what’s wrong? The doctor is on her way, yeah. Do y’need anything?” he asked frantically following your eyes round the room. He saw you eye the plastic cup beside your bed, “Y’ want water? Hold on I’ll get it for you.” He ran to the other side and brought the cup up to your face. You didn’t realise how thirsty you were until the first sip hit your throat, you started gulping it down quickly.
“Take it easy, precious. They took out the tube just yesterday.” He explained softly.
Once your thirst was quenched he kept the cup aside then went on to pull his sleeve over his knuckles and wiped the wet corners of your mouth. You moved your face aside yet again, he couldn’t understand what was wrong. But before he could ask you, the doctor came in to check on you. She did her tests and asked a few questions. She left as soon as she was done, and told you even though the injury looked worse than it actually is, you had take it easy for a couple of days.
Neither of you spoke for a few minutes, “How’re you feeling, love?” he asked quietly. You nodded, “I’m okay.” He came up to you and raised his hand to caress your cheek. But before he could touch you, your head turned to the opposite side. He couldn’t take it anymore, so he asked you.
“Will you please look at me? What’s happened, precious?” as he caressed your hair.
“Why should I look at you, Harry? So you can tell me how careless I am, or how I’m not trustworthy?” you rasped quietly. For a minute he was unable understand what you were trying to say. Then flashbacks from your fight the other night came back rushing to him. The things he said to you, and how guilty he felt later. His words had left a huge impact than he thought they did.
He took your face in his hand with very much to little force, he had to tell you this, “Y/N y’have absolutely no idea for how sorry I am for that night-” but you didn’t let him complete.
“That’s only because I got into this accident.” You snapped. He shook his head rapidly, he saw you getting worked up over this. You’ve always been a little firecracker, and you never failed to tell him when he was being a dick or to defend yourself quite amazingly, he always loved that quality. Apropos, he couldn’t let you hurt yourself in this condition.
“First of all, please calm down-” he started, “don’t tell me to calm down, harry!” you raged. He hated himself for smiling when you’re clearly very upset. But for the past few days he had to witness you lie there lifeless which had taken a toll on his mental state. He loved the fact that you were awake, so you yelling at him was more of a reward than a punishment. You looked at him sharply and saw him not taking you seriously, this brought tears to your eyes.
You sniffled and looked away from him to rest your head against the pillows on the raised up side of your bed roughly. Harry’s small smile melted away as quickly as it appeared. He rubbed the side you almost banged to the pillow, “I’m so sorry, precious. I swear I did not mean anything I said.” He pleaded and took a seat down on the chair beside you.
Right then the nurse which pushed him out of the room the other day and now was much like a friend to him entered the room with a tray which had a bowl of soup and jello in it. Harry smiled at him gratefully and took the tray from him as the guy set up the table on your bed.
“How’re you feeling, Ms. Y/L/N?” he asked once he was ready to leave. You gave him a small smile and said you were feeling better. The moment he left Harry looked back at you with a longing look on his face, when you refused to look at him he sighed and set the tray down on the small table and took a seat in front you on the bed. He looked at you as he removed the metal spoon from its cover, and then went on to remove the cover set on top of the soup. He blew light air on the spoonful of soup, then brought it up to your mouth. You refused to touch it. He sighed and looked at you pleadingly, “Y’ know someone told me we shouldn’t remove our anger on food.” He stated, turning your words against you.
You glared at him in anger for minute as he looked at you with a loving smile. “Please?” He moved it closer to your mouth, “You’ve got to eat it, I’m not budging unless you do, Y/N.”
Even though you wanted to stay stubborn, you were kind of hungry. So you let him feed you the soup. When he got to the jello, you refused profoundly. “But it’s the chocolate flavoured one! Remember the time we used to share one when I was here for my fractured foot? C’mon we’ll share this one too, if y’want?” he tried convincing you with his soft eyes.
“I don’t want to share it with you. Actually, I don’t want anything to do with you at the moment to be completely honest.” you snapped. You were aware of the fact that you were being very unreasonable and bitchy but it was his words that has caused extreme hurt to you. Your words hurt Harry, and it was evident on his face. He wrapped up the jello and cleared everything. The day passed, and in the evening your last visitor entered the room.
“There she is!” Louis came up to you and hugged you lightly, making sure not to hurt you. “Hello, darling. How’re you?” he kissed your forehead. Harry left you alone with him as he went to get the two of them some coffee.
“What’s happened to him? Why the long face still? I mean I get that Harry loves to pretend that he’s this macho man and all. S’ a bit ridiculous to be honest. Like who’s he kidding, he’s a puppy.” Louis laughed. You smiled at this.
“I’m still a bit upset with him over our fight. So I haven’t been talking to him.” You explained. Louis frowned at this and then sighed, “Oh love don’t do that... This has been very tough for him. Should’ve seen his state these past few days. The man has been a mess ever since the officers came to your house that night.”
“I’m trying, Lou. But I just can’t forget all the things he said. I was so hurt, I still am!” you rubbed your forehead, as it was beginning to give you an ache.
“He’s very sorry, Y/N. Trust me when I say that I’ve never seen him like I saw him that day. He just wanted you to wake up. He was just blaming himself, how he shouldn’t have let you leave the house.” He took a hold of your hand, “he loves you so much, darling. He’s absolutely mad over you.” He rubbed your hand, “A’bit obsessed if you ask me. If I were you I’d have him get that checked with a therapist.” He joked, you laughed loudly. He smiled with you, and passed you the water you signalled for.
“Forgive him, Y/N. He can’t even bring himself to go home. The only time he went there was to get some clothes, and to put the dinner he made for you in the rubbish bin.” He sassed. “and I know I’m speaking for Mitch too here when I say this, but both him and I could use a break from all the non-stop stress weeping calls we’ve been getting from him.” You gasped at him with a mock offence for Harry, and lightly smacked his shoulder. You were always thankful for Louis in moments like these. He was a great friend to you and Harry.
Harry came back with two coffees and passed one to his blue-eyed friend. He took a seat on the sofa which was against the wall, and the three of you, though it was mostly you and Louis, had a light conversation while the men finished up their coffee. Louis bid his farewell with another kiss on your forehead and a well wish, you thanked him and waved goodbye. Harry walked him out the door, and came back in a second later.
“Y’ need anything?” He asked as he took a seat on the chair beside you. You shook your head as you observed him fidgeting with the cuticles of his nails. He did that when he was anxious.
Neither of you spoke for a while. But the minute you heard a sniffle, you snapped your head towards him. You tried to get a look at his face, the tip of his nose was a bit red and he was now fidgeting with his feet too. He wasn’t crying but he sure was on the verge of it.
You suddenly felt an overwhelming amount of love for the man in front of you. You leaned against your bed and sighed, smiling a little. It’s pathetic how in love you were with each other. You couldn’t even stay mad at him.
“Harry?” You whispered softly. He hummed without looking up. So you continued, “I need you to do something” you faked a stern voice to play with him a bit more.
“Yeah sure, what’s it?” he muttered as he got up and rubbed his hands down his thighs, then finally looked at you. You looked at him without an expression and said, “I need you to come here and give me a good cuddle, a kiss too if I like the cuddle.” And then smiled at him lovingly. He looked at you for a second. You almost thought he was going to yell at you, but the opposite happened. He started tearing up and heavy tear drops ran down his cheeks.
You gasped and quickly leaned forward to take a hold of his hand which was near you. “Oh Harry..” You whispered as you pulled him near you. He the minute you sat him in front of you, he started crying heavily. You were so shocked yet you’ve never been more mesmerised by him. You quickly tried wiping his tears away and comforted him, “Honey, don’t cry. I’m not upset anymore!”
“I-I’m honestly s-sorry! I promise I didn’t mean what I said that day, Y/N!” he tried to speak while wiping his tears.
“I know, babe. I know!” you tried to say it properly but it came out in a laughing manner and tried to draw the crying man close to you, but seeing you laugh made him more upset and he pushed you away lightly, so you forcefully pulled him into a cuddle.
He told himself he’s letting himself be pulled because he didn’t want to hurt you, but it was actually because he wanted you close, so he went in head first. You lay down against the pillows and cuddle him against your chest. He went on sniffling into your neck and wrapped his arm around your waist.
“Harry why are you crying!” you tried controlling your laughter. He whined and pulled his face away, “Y’were so fucking mean since the moment you woke up. I didn’t expect it.” He said and hiccupped, thanks to the sobbing breakdown he just had. You pulled on your lips so you wouldn’t smile.
“Well now you know, honey. It hurts, doesn’t it? You were so mean to me too!” You teased. He nuzzled back into your neck, pressing kisses there which always made you giggle.
“I’m really sorry, precious. Honestly, I really am.” He said into your neck, yet producing another hiccup. You couldn’t control yourself anymore so you smiled and pressed a quite a few smooches to his temple, and inhaled his comforting scent.
“It’s okay, baby. I forgive you. I’m sorry for my foolish mistake too, I really didn’t mean to ruin your hard work like that.” You apologised. He pulled away and brought the hand that was around your waist to your cheek and said, “I forgave you a long time ago, but you honestly don’t have to apologise at all. It could happen to anyone, m’love. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. Y’know I made dinner and everything as an apology. But then the officers…” his tone dropped and he couldn’t continue. So, you sadly smiled and pulled him in for a kiss.
He sighed and reciprocated the kiss with so much love and passion that you couldn’t help but wrap the arm which around his shoulder a bit more tighter and ran the other through the back of his head gently. The two of you pulled away and looked into each other’s eyes, he moved the hair that escaped from your braid and tucked it behind your ear, “I was so scared. I thought I had lost you.” He whispered softly, and swallowed the small lump, “I missed you a lot, baby” he said and you couldn’t help but peck his cute pout.
“I missed you too, froggy” you replied. The pet name made him reward you with a dimpled smile. He nuzzled into your neck and whispered, “I love you.”
“and I love you.” You kissed his forehead.
“Just for your information, I’m not letting you out of my sight for a really long time.” He stated sternly.
You laughed but stopped when you saw he wasn’t joking, “You know I have to work, right?”
“Y’can easily take a break for a month or two.” He said, as he yawned and cuddle closer to you. “A MONTH OR TWO?! Have you gone mad?” you gasped, lightly pulling on his hair.
“No I haven’t. Try to get rid of me, baby. I dare you.” He laughed a scheming laugh. You knew he wasn’t joking. He tended to become quite paranoid and obsessive over you when situations like these occur. But you wouldn’t have him any other way.
“We’ll see, mister.” You said, and caressed the back of his head.
“oh we will, missus.”
The End.
Author’s Note: I really put in a lot of efforts on this one, so you guys kind of owe me *wink* y'all gotta humour my praise kink now!!! ;P
Love you guys!
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"inspiration". | neil perry, dps.
in which a summer is spent with the poets, with a significant feature of neil perry.
✧ title: "inspiration".
✧ pairing: neil perry x fem!reader.
✧ genre: fluff, with slight mentions of angst.
✧ word count: 2,733.
✧ warnings: written in headcanon format, home life mentions, the reader lives in meeks' grandma's house, knox being a simp for chris.
✦ author’s note: requested by @mybabysweetascanbe! it's kinda funky how i wrote this as a headcanon but it still ended up being my longest fic lmao. also i wrote the poem that neil made for the reader myself so i'm sorry if it's kinda cheesy 🗿 but i hope you all enjoy this one !! don't forget to take care of yourselves guys <3
✎ The summer holidays had always been a time for the poets’ relief.
✎ Their academic year was constantly filled with difficulties for the poets, but it was harder for some when they were home for the summer.
✎ Neil felt as though he couldn’t be himself-- he loved reading and writing even more so than he did with accomplishing any of his parents’ wishes, like heading into medical school. He especially loved to act, and it was rough to keep that concealed around his dictatorial father.
✎ Todd’s older brother would be at home as well, and it was worse enough being in his shadow; but it had gotten worse with every one of his parents’ daily proclamations.
“We were quite disappointed with your grades from last semester, son,” His father reprimanded, looking down on him with stern eyes. “I just don’t understand what’s gotten into you. Your mother and I raised you quite well and you have your brother to guide you along. You know that he’s remarkably intelligent and well accomplished. Why can’t you be more like your brother?”
✎ Charlie and Knox had been just like Neil. The constant pressure that their parents put on them about becoming a banker and a lawyer was daunting; and all they wanted was to simply live as regular teenagers without concern for their future.
✎ Fortunately, Meeks’ grandmother was a woman who had a colossal and motherly love for the poets with a sizable residence in which her grandson’s friends could inhabit during their vacation.
✎ Thus, the poets resided in the Meeks household in the summer before their senior year so as to escape the stress and troubles brought to them in their own homes.
✎ Even though the summer was fleeting and their time was short, the poets found their time to be everlasting when they met the student boarder of the house.
✎ She went by the name of Y/N, which was a name that sounded just as sweet as the lady to whom it was attached.
“Hello, everybody! I’m Y/N!” The girl said, reaching out her hand to shake one of the poets’. Truth be told, it had been quite some time since any one of the boys had been in close contact with a woman; so they found themselves to be quite the martians in the situation. It took a few moments before one of the poets-- Neil Perry-- could offer his hand and shake hers. “I’m Neil! We’re friends of Meeks and his classmates from Welton.” The boy swore that he felt a spark as their fingertips touched, but he tossed the feeling aside; along with the apparition that he saw of a faint glimmer in Y/N’s eyes.
✎ The boys instantly took her in to their little group, and they all fell in love with her personality-- which was a platonic statement of course; but Neil Perry found this to be otherwise as he actually began falling into love with the new girl.
✎ He loved the way she cared for her new friends, the way she projected her personality through the clothes she wore, and all of the little smiles she gave him.
✎ With every beam and twinkle that she delivered, Y/N found herself to be falling for Neil as well.
✎ He provided a feeling for her that made the blacks of her eyes expand and butterflies to quiver inside-- which was the very same one Neil had felt when he first laid his eyes on her.
✎ She had been a fantastic addition to the band of poets, and the boys could not have had it any other way.
Despite the summer coming into fruition, the poets did not fail to meet up in their little cave every once in a while to read poetry, discuss girls, and laugh. The first meeting of that summer was simply like any other. “Guys, what do we think of Y/N?” Meeks questioned. A clamor of answers that ranged between “I think she’s great,” and “Do you think Mrs. Meeks has any more people in her house like Y/N?” echoed in the dark cave. Clearly, the boys had favored Y/N; but certainly not to the point where they’d be infatuated with her. “Yeah, I think she’s nice. She’s really pretty too,” Knox added. “Woah there Knoxious,” Charlie replied, expelling out a chortle. “I don’t think Chris would like to hear that. And besides, she looks more like she’s Neil’s type than yours.” Charlie’s words weren’t incorrect, but it was needless to say that Neil had strongly agreed with that statement.
✎ Over the summer, they would all begin to get to know each other better.
✎ The poets eventually introduced Y/N to the intricate realm of poetry, and she wholeheartedly fell in love with every line that was recited.
✎ They enjoyed every moment of their fleeting time together. Of course, there would be times where the boys would get into small fights and bickers.
✎ Pitts would always be yelling at Charlie for taking an ungodly amount of time in the shower, while Charlie would be yelling back about how Pitts always seemed to inhale the food that Mrs. Meeks provided for them before he himself could even take one bite.
✎ Cameron did his best to do some summer reading at night, but he found it quite hard as his room was beside Knox’s room, and Knox would spend hours on end talking to Chris over the phone.
“Oh, Chris. How do I love thee?” Knox sighed, lacing the telephone cords in between his fingers. “That’s the title of a poem we learned in Mr. Keating’s class. It reminds me of how lovely you are. Of course, she’s not as pretty as you are,” Knox’s giggles not only erupted through the phone; but it travelled through the walls as well, disrupting Cameron from the climax of his novel. “We get it, Knox! You’re a romantic poet! Now why don’t you go tell Chris about how you finished with a D minus in English!”
✎ While all of the little squabbles took place, they hadn’t even noticed the slight change in Neil and Y/N’s behavior.
✎ Y/N seemed to be keeping to herself more often, while Neil appeared to have possessed an undying smile on his face around the poets; particularly in the mornings when everyone gets up early except for him and Y/N.
✎ Little did they know, Y/N’s room had been vacant for the past few days since the arguments began-- which was approximately three weeks after the boys had arrived to the Meeks’ residence; and Neil seemed to be giggling in his room every night when the rest were asleep.
✎ In the duration of those three weeks, Neil had become more familiar with Y/N than any of the other poets had been.
✎ They’d walk along the nearby river every morning, discuss poetry in the late afternoons, and eventually fall asleep in each other’s arms at night.
“How long have you been living here?” Neil inquired, peering into Y/N’s eyes. His vision didn’t have to stretch too far as his face had only been a breath away from Y/N’s. The pair laid together under the warm covers of Neil’s bed with their legs entangled in one another’s and their hands interlocked, talking about anything and everything that came to their minds. “It’s been two years since Mrs. Meeks took me in,” She replied, gazing over Neil’s chiseled face. “In the whole time I’ve been here, I think you’re the most interesting thing that’s happened to me,” Y/N added, beaming up at Neil. Hearing her words, Neil slowly leaned his lips onto Y/N’s forehead, giving her an endearing kiss. She too had been the most interesting thing to happen to Neil in a long time.
✎ For each and every day that they were together, Neil wrote love poems.
✎ His poems revolved around his time with Y/N and included detail of all sorts; such as how colors appeared to be more bright and more vivid when he was with her and how lovelier the birds had sounded in the morning during their walks.
"My love,
The luminosity of the golden sun
does not compare to the radiance
of your glowing skin.
In this air full of morning dew,
the most beautiful scent in the air
is still you.
The sounds we hear of the melodious
birds are all because of your presence,
and they sing only for your beauty.
I look into your eyes and I see nature
reflected back at me; but it is much more
pleasant to perceive than if I were to do so
through my own set of eyes.
Though the morning lasts for a mere set of hours,
My fascination for you can go for as long as
this smooth river flows.
✎ Neil felt embarrassed about being so infatuated with Y/N, so he kept his poems hidden for the time being.
✎ Somehow, the boys had failed to notice Neil and Y/N’s constant disappearance.
✎ Although, they’d make little remarks from time to time that ran along the lines of “Ooh, Neil found a muse!” and “Y/N definitely likes somebody here. It’s probably me.”
✎ The last comment came from Charlie, which later earned him a smack on the head from Neil.
✎ So, Neil and Y/N did their best to keep their relationship hidden throughout the summer.
✎ The two were rather domestic in their relationship; they did all of the typical-couple activities that everyone else had done.
✎ To anyone else it would have been rather common to witness, but to them it was simply extraordinary being with one another.
It had been a scenic day at the river that morning. The beauty of the nature surrounding it had been ordinarily pleasing to Y/N; but all of its best qualities were magnified for Neil as his hand was in hers and the only thing he could smell was her fragrance. He had been quite nervous for the entire morning as he promised himself the night before that he would finally gather the courage to say those three magic words he’d been imagining to say for quite some time. Unbeknownst to him, Y/N had been thinking the same and had been visualizing how she would say it at that moment for the past few hours since. Just when the cascading waters began to relax and the chirping of the birds started to quiet down, the pair stopped on their trail and those three words were finally professed by Neil in a sudden manner while Y/N had spoken the same in a clear and gentle tone. They looked into each other’s eyes, recognizing the same look of love and eventually realizing what was said. As it was acknowledged, the two lovers simply smiled at each other and kept walking along; their hearts now beating on the same rhythm and their minds thinking of nothing but one another.
✎ Time to time, they would go up to the attic and listen to the music from Mrs. Meeks’ old gramophone, caressing one another as they slowly dance along to the lyrics of Ella Fitzgerald’s songs.
✎ Neil would always sneak a flower out of Mrs. Meeks’ rose garden and leave it on Y/N’s bedside table for her to wake up to.
✎ One of Y/N’s ways of communicating her love would be recommending books to Neil that she thinks is encompassed with his personality. Since then, Neil’s library had enlarged to a great extent.
✎ There would also be some occasions where one of them-- mostly Neil-- would get a little cheeky and try to express their love for the other out in the open.
“Eat up, boys! You know there’s plenty more of where that came from, so don’t be afraid to dig in!” Mrs. Meeks endorsed, setting down a bowl of mashed potatoes. With a jubilant ‘thank you’, everyone at the table promptly began to tuck into the mouthwatering cuisine. The boys soon found themselves distracted with the heavenly taste of Mrs. Meeks’ cooking; and Neil took this opportunity to covertly sneak his right hand onto Y/N’s thigh under the table. A scarlet blush crept its way up to Y/N’s cheek as she sent Neil a glare. Though her eyes expressed the message of “Not here!”, every other signal in her body sent the message of ‘Yes, Please’ to a very triumphant Neil.
✎ The summer inevitably came to an end and the boys were forced to return to Welton, much to their dismay.
✎ They couldn’t stand ending their summer; and they especially couldn’t stand leaving their new friend behind while the rest of them stayed together.
“Oh God, How are we supposed to leave this beautiful girl all alone in this big house?!” Charlie pleaded, theatrically dropping down to his knees and shouting out loud to the heavens. “It’s all just too emotional for us,” Pitts added as he went along with his friend’s act, his head bowing down to the ground in grief as he placed a comforting hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Just take me with her, God! Let me be with Y/N at her all-girls school!”
✎ Despite all of the inconveniences they put upon Y/N, the poets really did leave a mark on her. These boys showed her a new way of life-- she knows what ‘Carpe Diem’ means, and she knows how to seize her days because of them.
✎ Of course, Neil had a harder time coming into terms with their departure more than anyone else.
✎ Leaving the Meeks’ residence meant that he was leaving Y/N, which was something that he hadn’t prepared himself for.
“I’m not ready to leave you,” Neil confessed. Tears were beginning to form in his eyes, but he quickly blinked them away. After the individual hugs and goodbyes Y/N had given to the rest of the poets, the ill-fated time had come when she had to bid her own farewell to her lover. Neil believed that though their time was short and fleeting, it truly had been something special and something that he’ll never forget. Y/N was his first love, his first muse, his first everything; and no amount of riches could ever sum up to the prominence of that. Y/N placed her hand on Neil’s face, stroking away his tears with her thumb as she felt her eyes begin to swell up as well. “I’ll write to you every day, Neil.” Naturally, Y/N was on the brink of tears as well. She couldn’t bear to leave Neil after everything he’s shown her. It feels like she’s known him forever, yet everything felt so new and exciting with him. She loved him too much, and she knows she’ll continue to love him long after.
✎ Neil was afraid that she would forget about what they had soon after she had left, so he decided to give her all of the poems he had written about her.
✎ As her hands clasped the thick set of parchment, the tears she had been trying so hard to conceal had all poured out, staining the paper and her hands.
“Neil… these are beautiful,” She croaked. Her eyes skimmed over every title and date, realizing that there had been a poem for each and every splendid day that they had been together. “You’re beautiful, Y/N. That’s why I wrote these,” Neil corrected. “Everything I love about you is in these poems, and all of the love I have for you is written in each letter. I just don’t want you to forget about me while we’re apart.” The absurdity of Neil’s words made Y/N chuckle softly before she stepped forward and linked her hands around Neil’s neck, reducing the space between their lips. “I love you, Neil. You’re always going to be in my mind and you’ll always have my heart in the little pocket of your Welton blazer.”
✎ Y/N felt truly fortunate to have met Neil. This summer had come as quite a surprise for her-- she did not expect to fall in love so soon and with such an extraordinary person like Neil Perry. He was everything she’d ever looked for and he gave everything she deserved.
✎ Even though the bright days of the summer had ended and the early falling leaves of the autumn was yet to arrive, the change was of no concern as the only thing that mattered was what had been consistent-- and for Y/N and Neil, the thing that stood still for the two of them despite all odds was each other.
dedicated to these lovely people!! @mybabysweetascanbe @disagreeingpoets @catflowerbean @galaxyrhytm @nananostalgic @ughgclden @towriteabetterlife @neilsemeraldsweater @yourpal @willowestelle
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Dear HIM/Ville Valo fans,
this is a long post but I must discuss this.
________
I came across this interview of Kat Von D from a few days ago. Before I get into my thoughts, below is a passage from her old book “Go Big or Go Home” which you may or may not have read. She wrote about Ville:
________
“I only knew his music, and I loved it on first listen. It was dark and it was beautiful. It was metal and it was poetry. It was love loaded into a gun, and I wondered about the man behind the songs. Two years later, our paths crossed, and like the majority of the connections I’ve made in life, tattooing brought us together. Through our first tattoo sessions, we began to get to know each other. For the next few years, I just thought of him as my friend from overseas, and that was all. Then, after knowing him for six years, something changed. It could have been the wine, the music, or the moon. Most likely it was just perfect timing. Just one kiss, and he changed my world. We were both sad back then, and lost. I was depressed, having finally ended a marriage that had been doomed from the beginning. I was also dealing with the pressures of filming a television show, which was totally new to me - and drinking my way blindly through it all. His story mirrored mine, and he had been feeling just as low. We had been waiting for something to happen, for someone or something to come along and save us from ourselves. And when it suddenly seemed that that someone was each other, it took us both by surprise. We shared darkness, and doing that bought light back into our somber worlds: for once, we didn’t feel alone.He’s the reason why I wanted to write music to begin with - and learn to sing. I remember the exact moment I made up my mind about making music. It was something I felt I needed to do, not for any reason other than a way to respond to him. It didn’t matter if the songs I’d write never saw the light of day, as long as he was able to listen to my music, my message to him. He had told me to look for a package at my door step, prefacing the delivery of the contents, his new album, saying, “These are all of the things that are easier sung than said.”I knew what he meant, but never imagined that each song would be filled with direct messages to me. I put the album on, and the music rushed out of the speakers and filled my house. His voice rang all around, making it’s way to the core of my heart with every word he sang. As cryptic as those lyrics may have been for anyone else, I knew exactly what each word meant and recognized every event and place he referred to. The songs were so beautiful, I just wished so badly that he could have said everything out loud just once to me. How should I respond to something like this? Where do I even start?The first time I saw him after I got sober, he was in town working on music. We sat in my office at the shop until the late hours of the night, talking and catching up about everything - music, home, art and work. Did we talk about love? No. We constantly danced around our past instead. What happened to us? I couldn’t find the courage to ask because I was scared of the answer I already knew. We decided to draw, with pencils and paper in front of us, we sat at opposite ends of the table. He pulled my three-minute timer from one of the nearby shelves, and placed it at the center of the table. He suggested we draw each other, and I was game. With a flip of the hourglass, the grains of sand moved from one vessel to the other, and we began.Sketching these timed portraits forced us to stare at each other, making it practically impossible to focus on the drawing itself. I had almost forgotten how beautiful his face was. He has a combination of eyes, lips, and a darkness to his looks that makes him look almost otherworldly. With him, I felt like I was at the center of an orderly, tranquil, magnificent universe. For those short three minutes, there were no questions about life or purpose. It was as if we never needed any more from each other than this.Like all people, I’ve suffered from love sickness and tasted the pain of love. The theatrical director of my mind, the one who staged all these versions of him and my life with him, seemed to be unaffected by reason. I was finding myself constantly day dreaming of the past.His eyes, his hands, his crooked smile - I’d ruminate over his features. Things he said. Things he did. Things he wrote. Things he drew. Things he sang. Over and over again, I’d sift through these images and memories as if they somehow contained the answer to my prayers. But I was living with a long-age memory of him; living so far away from the present moment.If we had spoken about what we were or what we thought we were, back when we got sober, I wouldn’t have been so confused, wandering what if, and writing the rest of our story in my mind. What did I expect? For him to magically not hear about me being in a relationship? And to not be bothered by it? If only he would have asked….. I would have….. If we could have only talked….. then things would be….. if we allowed ourselves to transform our fears of being open, vulnerable, then, I’d convince myself, we would be together. I realized that none of that mattered now. If I wanted to be free of this unrequited longing, I would have to make peace with the past and finally let it go. There was no way around it. But did I want to be free of it? - and him?I listened to one of his songs the other day. Out of all the songs he wrote on that album, this one was the most direct. He sings my name in the chorus. By the time the song is over, I’ve felt a range of emotions - I’m sad but happy, frustrated but calm. He sings about how I alone bring him to a place of stillness and peace within when we are together. What a victorious feeling - to enter into a place with him where no one else has been. To be able to bring goodness to and draw it out of someone. Those sweet thoughts were interrupted by an e-mail from him. Impeccable timing as always. It’s just a short note, letting me now he’s somewhere out there, thinking of me. He ends the message by calling me “Star Face” - his pet name for me from long ago that no one else uses. At that moment, I loathe him for it. I loathe him because I love him. Sometimes it feels like it would be so much easier to walk away from this if he’d just tell me that he hates me, that he wants nothing to do with me. But instead he calls me “Star Face.” There is no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’s not letting go, either.‘Ultimately, it is the desire, not the desired, that we love.’The silver plane hurtled over Newfoundland, over the Labrador sea. Someone told me I might see the northern lights as I fly east and north, but I wouldn’t have noticed as I was deep in writing the letter that I had already mentally composed long before I decided to make this trip to see him over New Year’s Day. I didn’t have to edit myself this time, I knew exactly what the letter would say.I reread the note to myself before sealing the envelope. Then I drew out the first letter of his name in pencil on the front. What a beautiful letter it was, probably my favorite out of the entire alphabet. A letter I was so used to writing myself. With ease the swirls and curves of each arch seemed to flow from my heart, my mind’s eye, drawn in and through my arms to my hands, releasing themselves onto the pale ivory paper envelope. My plane landed soon after.I had missed this country, I had missed him, too. I wondered how time had treated him ,for it had been a few years since I had last seen him. I wondered if I still had the ability to quiet his heart when he was feeling manic. He always said I had a way of doing that when I was near. And I wondered if he even needed me in that way anymore.When we met up, he looked just as beautiful as the day we saw each other for the first time, almost ten years before. And as if no time had passed, we started right where we left off - hours flew by in the comfort of each other’s presence. Talking. Catching up.He asked if I was getting sleepy, and my attempt at concealing the tiredness was transparent. I looked at the clock; maybe it was the jet lag or the clock hands pointing to midnight, but I knew it was time to say good-bye. Reluctantly, we both stood up and tried our best to part ways. As good as it felt to be near him again, I gave him the letter I had written letting him know that I was letting the nation of us go. He took the sealed envelope, and then I watched him walk away for what I assumed would be the last time.My heart didn’t belong locked up in a tower across the ocean from my home. It belonged in my chest, beating, living, feeling, sometimes hurting, but always loving. I deserved to be free, and understanding and needing that more than a dream, I was finally able to let him go.”
_________
Now, let me start by saying, I’ve never understood this and I still don’t. I’ve had that passage saved in my drafts for years because I keep almost anything pertaining to Ville.
I’ve been a HIM fan since I was about 15 years old, and have followed Ville’s life and work closely. The friendship between them was always apparent to HIM fans in those days, because we saw her in photos with the band often. I used to watch Miami Ink and LA Ink as regularly as pretty much anyone in those days, and I remember when this particular passage of her book was brought to light, the HIM fan base read it and we all had our thoughts. We were all aware of Screamworks being written about Kat (it’s obvious in the lyrics of the album) even though Ville never specifically said Kat’s name when asked about it in interviews.
I remember being baffled back when we as HIM fans discovered this passage from the book. I couldn’t imagine not making that relationship work if it was true love. I’m a bit biased because I adore Ville and he’s like a dream to me, but I just couldn’t understand it. It seemed like she took the relationship for granted or she didn’t love him enough to make it work; but I digress. I get it; love and relationships are complex.
Still, flash forward to this recent interview (the screenshot), she says it was unrequited love, and I’m still not understanding it. Why release all the songs now? Why didn’t she make it work if it was true love? Who is she trying to say was the one not reciprocating (as the word “unrequited” suggests) in the relationship? I don’t understand any of it. More than anything, I’ve had so many questions that I wish I could ask Ville about it all because he only spoke briefly about it all, and it was always rather cryptic.
I’m only writing this as a HIM fan, and because I love Ville and his lyrics on Screamworks so, so much (it’s an extremely underrated album in the HIM discography, in my opinion) so I’m letting any fellow HIM lovers know she wrote an album in response to it, in case you’re interested. I haven’t followed Kat or her work in many years, so I don’t know what to make of all this, but it’s always been extremely apparent to me when listening to Screamworks that a lot of heart went into it and even pain, not that his lyrics on other albums aren’t like that too, but I felt it more on Screamworks. I feel that Ville was the one who was truly heartbroken.
You all probably know from following my blog that I’m obsessed with love and unrequited love. Any romantic stories, bittersweet letters, heartbreak, longing etc. is just my favorite thing in the world so please excuse the long post, haha.
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