#to go to bed early i fail i toss and turn for 2 hours i fall asleep repeat.idont know what to do anymore.

[geffenrecords]

I literally can't sleep idont know what's wrong with me idont know what happened

[leviraaaaaa]

"Hey."

A husky voice spoke right beside your ear, startling you. You felt arms wrap around your waist from behind, warmth pressing against your neck.

"Huh–" You turned your head around, caught off guard. But your shoulders relaxed the moment you realized it was him. "Oh hi, it's you."

Levi rested his head on your shoulder, spreading his legs so they went around where you were sitting, practically slumping on you

"Mhm, were you hoping it was someone else?" Levi mumbled sleepily, snuggling deeper, pressing a soft kiss into the skin before burying his face into the crook of your neck.

"Never." You smiled.

You were sitting on the bed of the spare bedroom, papers and books spread across you. You work best in bed. But Levi was so tired tonight, he had went to bed early, and you hadn't the heart to disrupt his sleep. Which is why you had to seek refuge in the guest bedroom instead.

"You made a mess." He huffed, noticing the absolute chaos of papers and books you have made in the bed.

"We don't have much guests either way. This room is practically going to waste. But fine," You reassure him. "I'll clean up later, I swear."

"You always say that. Weeks will pass, the mess will stay the same." He mutters.

"Alright, you neat-freak, did you wake up just to take a nick at how unorganized I am?" You raise a brow, shooting a glance sideways, pretending to be annoyed. You failed to bite back the smile tugging on your lips though."You should be asleep."

"Shouldn't you too?" He pouted. "I can't sleep if you're not there."

"I know," You raised your hand, ruffling his hair. It was already messy, indicating he'd been tossing and turning in the bed for a while now. "I just really need to finish this article, alright? Go to bed, I'll be there."

"Is your work more important than me?" His head turned sideways, the silver of his eyes glinting through sleep-heavy lids. He almost looked like a pouty kid, needy for attention. You turned your head to press your forehead against his, pressing against the warmth of his body. He was always so warm.

"Levi, I promise. Just 5 minutes."

"I gave you 2 hours." He frowned.

"5 more minutes. Finishing touches."

"In the morning. Come to bed."

"Just 5 minutes!" You laughed when he shook his head, his hair tingling your neck.

"5 seconds."

"Levi."

"5." He began counting.

You rolled your eyes, amused. "No way, you're doing that."

"4."

"I'm serious."

"3."

"Two minutes?"

"2."

You squirmed against his hold, struggling to loosen his grip. You tugged forward, but you couldn't even budge.

Curse Levi and his Ackerman strength.

"1."

"Okay, I'm serious, let me g–"

You didn't even get a second before you were hoisted up in the air, thrown over his shoulder. A surprised squeal escaped you but the next thing you know you were in your bedroom. He dropped you on it, bed creaking underneath the sudden weight. Then he slid in, pulling the covers and tucking the both of you under it, an arm wrapping around you so you were pressed firmly against his chest and very unable to move.

"You work too hard for your own good." He mumbled, voice already raspy from the exhaustion clouding over him.

"Says the workaholic and the insomniac." You protest.

"You talk a lot, don't you?" He sighed softly. "Go to sleep. If you don't get enough rest you get cranky in the morning."

"I suffer from cranky Levi everyday. You should get a taste." You grinned.

"I'm not cranky."

"No. You're like a moody teenager on her period."

"Shut up." He tugged your ear, a playful gesture to show that he was annoyed. But the slightest quirk of his mouth didn't escape your eyes, as small as it was. "Need my sleep, love. Can't have that if you're not here."

"Yeah?" You exhaled, sleep caressing your eyes as well. But the nickname still made you grin. Hearing words of endearment from Levi was such a rare thing, you felt giddy whenever he addressed you like that. It's not that he doesn't love you, it's just he's gets too flustered and embarrassed whenever the words slip out, which just makes the moments all the more special.

Like now, how he screwed up his face the instant he realized.

"No." He said in a warning tone.

Too late. You grinned. "Call me darling."

"No."

"Sweetheart?"

"No."

"Honeypie?"

"Absolutely not."

"Sweat pea?"

"What the fuck." He groaned. "I swear you get worse every day."

"I'm serious. Why not?"

"Because they're ridiculous."

"Okay. How about Fuzzball?"

"What the hell is that even supposed to mean?"

"Pumpkin?"

"Why, just why?"

You reached up, bringing your mouth closer to his ears. "Mommy?" You whispered.

He jolted. "I will smack you with this pillow." He says flatly, keeping his face expressionless. "Go to sleep before I knock you out myself."

You nodded, pressing the back of your hand to stifle your laugher, your shoulders shaking. But you decided that was quite enough for Levi. At least for one night.

"Roger." You sighed, throwing an arm over him. "Goodnight, babe."

"Brat." He grumbled, turning his head and hiding his face in the pillow.

Not before you caught the flush on his face though.

@sad-darksoul

[strawberrystepmom]

nsfw - minors/ageless dni, i will hard block you. narumi x f!reader. they are online dating. gen is so cringe fail loser online boyfriend coded to me and i'm utterly obsessed enamored in love with him. back and forth, mentions of mutual masturbation and sending nudes, suggestive conversation, open ended to write more about them. | divider thanks to cafekitsune, wc 1.7k

Gen’s phone pings with a notification on this desk. His eyes widen despite the fact he is mid digital conflict, tossing fireballs at the final boss of the latest game he’s managed to master and beat in roughly three days, muttering to himself while clicking the direction pad with one hand and sliding his phone haphazardly into his lap with the other. 

A tiny piece of him is hoping that the notification is thanks to new results showing up under his saved search for Captain Narumi though he isn’t angry at what he does see on the screen when he looks down at it for the briefest moment, ignoring his handheld boss battle. 

fallingstarwishes: you are always online at the strangest times…

The little icon of a cartoon version of you, the character you play in the game where the two of you originally became friends, next to the message stirs a little warmth in his face. He presses his lips together to hide a smile and turns back to the fireballs being hurled at the titular hero of the game, dodging them expertly, inevitably going to win this battle just as he wins all of the rest. 

Another ping distracts him, at least momentarily, and the screen in lap lights up. 

“Shit, just give me a minute,” he mutters impatiently toward his phone, red eyes flicking down to see another message from you. 

fallingstarwishes: don’t you ever sleep? it’s so late (early?), silly.

It may be 4 am for him and roughly 2 pm for you but what you don’t know is that an hour ago he was spearing through the technicolor core of a kaiju four times his size that leveled three city blocks with just the sound of its roar using just his bayonet. He can’t leave blanks about who he is and what he does for much longer. As badly as he’s wanted to boldly brag to you about his prowess, he has always known it can make or break the two of you when the truth comes out. 

The right time to mention the whole life threatening and dangerous job thing hasn’t quite come up yet, though. You know he’s in the military although he has never been entirely forthcoming about what that entails and you’ve never asked.

He thinks about how fresh things still are between the two of you. Less than a year of knowing one another, a chance meeting in a large server for a big title slice of life game that came out last year, that has since turned into late nights (for you) messaging, gaming, and eventually voice chatting and giggling together until one of you is forced to go - either to bed or work. 

He fires off a few more fireballs at the boss, dodging the weakly tossed few they return, and the screen goes into the cutscene that effectively declares yet another victory for him. Smiling, he sets the handheld console aside, and curls his fingers around his phone. The screen fills with the conversation between the two of you, messages sent all hours of the day every day, the last one a picture of you laying in bed last night in a suggestive position claiming to be thinking of him. 

His gaze fixates on the photos for a moment, greedily looking at what he was only able to glance at before he left for his mission. He slides down to the chat bar and smirks, seeing your status go from idle to online when you notice he’s typing back to you.

captaincool: Aren’t you at work right now?

You grin from miles away, discreetly looking around the office to make sure nobody can see you using a messaging app that is very obviously not work related during your paid hours. It’s not like you’re in danger of getting caught but there is something particularly delicious about having your own little love affair nobody else has to know about. It’s just the two of you, always, in a world (or worlds, when you consider how many hours the two of you have spent across games) you’ve created to enjoy together.

Tapping out a message, you furrow your brow and jiggle one of your ankles where it’s crossed over the other. 

fallingstarwishes: stop answering my questions with new ones of your own!

Gen smiles down at the screen, thumbs tapping the edges of his phone, anxiously waiting to see what you’ll say next. 

fallingstarwishes: now, what are you doing up? 

fallingstarwishes: bored? 

fallingstarwishes: lonely? 

fallingstarwishes: need me to sing you to sleep?

Chuckling at the singing suggestion, he scrolls back up enough to see that pretty picture you sent him and hisses to himself, his adrenaline finally coming down to a normal enough level he can focus on something else besides the rapid beating of his heart and the thrill of the battle.

captaincool: A song? Just for me? Aren’t you sweet

Raising a brow while firing off his message, he wonders what the two of you actually are. There are times he absolutely considers you his girlfriend or something like it. You’ve discussed crossing the ocean to come and see him more than once though the concept of actually having a girlfriend makes him unexpectedly anxious. Someone to remember birthdays and anniversaries for. Someone who wants you where she wants you when she wants you there. Someone with demands, a comically large pair of scissors to cut his wings and keep him from being himself.

Although you’ve never given him any indication you’d want to do that, it’s something he has to reflect on. His feelings are real but so are the ties that come with them if he were to act on them.

fallingstarwishes: that isn’t even the sweetest i’ve been to you this week. did you forget last wednesday night already?

Damn, you make it hard for him to not act. 

captaincool: How are you going to tell me to sleep and then remind me of that?

Of course he remembers Wednesday evening for you (early in the day on Thursday for him). He remained locked inside of his room for an hour while your soft moans of his name filled his headphones over video chat. Begging him please, telling him how badly you wished it was him instead of your short fingers…he remembers every last moment.

He remembers most of all the sound of his name from your mouth. It’s what sends him over the edge every single time the two of you are able to sneak in a session of mutual masturbation from all these miles and hours away. It also is what he cums to when he’s simply listening back to videos and voice notes or his own imagination.

fallingstarwishes: :) <3 just making sure you remembered who you’re dealing with. you didn’t even react to the picture i sent! 

Gen scrolls back up to glance at the photo, sliding downward in his chair, thighs spreading instinctively. He places his phone down on his desk and slides his hand beneath the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling them down enough that his half hard cock pops over his underwear. Reaching for his phone, he positions it so that the camera captures just the cut of his Adonis belt and the barely visible crown of him, snapping a picture to send back to you. He holds the phone back from his face and smirks appreciatively at his own artistic ability, happy with the subtle gleam of his arousal beginning to flow and bead on the tip of his dick. 

The photo is fired off with an accompanying cheeky message.

captaincool: Is this confirmation enough that I liked it?

Your eyes widen when the photo comes through, hands shaking slightly. He isn’t the only one who recalls the sound of a name from a pair of lips they wanna feel on every inch of their body in this scenario, now is he?

fallingstarwishes: you should have spoilered that! what if my boss would’ve walked up?

Gen chuckles at your response, pulling down his underwear and letting his now fully erect cock spring free. He’ll handle this and then he’ll be more than ready to pass out although he wishes he could stay up all through the day just to talk to you. He throbs, needy and wanting for a fist that he knows would grip him just right that sadly exists an ocean away and only in his mind. He taps out a message with his free hand, rubbing the thumb of his opposite hand over his slit and moaning low in his throat.

captaincool: Then you would have to explain why you are on your phone during work anyway.

Giggling to yourself, you know he’s right. You spare a few more seconds to glance at the pretty picture on your screen, thinking about your attachment to the man and his penis both, wondering if there will indeed be a day where you are faced with them both in person. Your thumb swipes across the screen, a small gesture that is full of longing while your heart beats in time with your rapid thoughts, and you finally respond.

fallingstarwishes: handle that and then get some sleep. i’ll be around tonight and hope we can spend some time together. sweet dreams gen ♥️

His fist works up and down his shaft and he reads the message with a satisfied half smile, discarding his phone to focus on how good he feels imagining bouncing you up and down on his cock. He’s powerful and strong, more than you could even imagine, and he’d make quick work of you if he were to have his hands on you.

God, he needs his hands on you. He whimpers and shuts his eyes tightly, the slick sound of his motions bouncing off of the clutter and boxes in his room that he’ll eventually get to clearing out. It doesn’t ever take him long when he pictures you, his balls tightening, threatening to spill across his fingers in damn near record time compared to how long he likes to make himself wait when the two of you are doing this together.

But don’t worry, when he finishes, he’ll make sure that you see his pearly release all over his knuckles with a message promising he’ll have sweet dreams because you will be in them.

[tiedyeflannels]

Dating Rumors

Jeon Jungkook x reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Genre: Angst, Hurt/ No Comfort

Dating Rumors: pt.2

Main Masterlist

A/N: Hello there! Thanks for stopping by! I'm not the best at writing angst even though I absolutely love reading it, but I thought I would give it a try when my brain came up with this idea. Also, I'm not sure if I should write a part 2 for this... Anyways, I hope you enjoy it!

KNOCK! KNOCK!

Wha-

I slowly opened one eye when I heard the sound of knocking. Peeking over to the clock on my nightstand to know what time it was, I read…

2:15 am.

I sighed, closing my eyes to go back to sleep when another round of knocks came, this time a bit louder. I sat up this time, looking for my glasses, and putting them on once I found them. 

Still feeling groggy, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, tossed the blanket to the side and got up from my warm bed to see what the commotion was. As I was making my way through my apartment yet another round of knocks came again, but this time they were non-stop.

Who the hell would be knocking at my door at 2 in the morning?

I grumbled as I looked through the peephole in the door to see that it was none other than Jeon Jungkook. I sighed as the frantic knocking persisted, but finally opened the door only to reveal a disheveled Jungkook. 

“Kook, what are you doing here? It’s two in the morning,” I asked, still rubbing my eyes.

His eyes looked desperate for some reason and it’s most likely the reason that he’s standing in my doorway this early in the morning. 

“Would you mind if I came in,” he asked.

Now I’m starting to worry about him because of the way he’s acting.

“Ye-yeah, of course!” I ushered him inside and looked out of the apartment in case someone was following him.

Luckily, I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, sans for the stray cat that always sleeps on the balcony railing.

I finally closed the door and turned back to him.

“Are you okay? What happened,” I asked while I followed him to the kitchen.

He ran his hands through his hair and looked at me with a worried, almost scared expression.

“They’re not true. None of them are true, Y/n.” 

“Kook, what are you talking about? What isn’t true,” I asked, confused at how he’s acting right now.

He started pacing a little, which did not do anything to calm my nerves about this whole situation so I walked over to him and gently grabbed his hand.

“Kookie, I’m going to need you to calm down so you can tell me what’s going on.”

I gestured for him to take a seat at one of the bar stools near the kitchen island and told him to take deep breaths while I walked over to the fridge, opening it up.

“Do you want something to drink before you tell me what’s happening,” I looked over my shoulder.

He nodded, still taking deep breaths while I grabbed two water bottles and walked back to him. I handed him his water bottle as I leaned against the counter in front of him, taking a sip. He took a few gulps, almost finishing half of it before looking back at me.

“Are you calm enough to tell me what’s ‘not true’?”

“Okay so… a few articles were published a couple of hours ago with a video of me and a girl in my house hugging and-”

“Wait! Someone was stalking you,” I asked. This is not something new to him and the members, but it never fails to surprise me everytime it happens.

“Yes, but that’s not the main point right now,” he shook his head, disregarding the stalking for right now.

“Anyway, they were saying that she could be my secret girlfriend because all of the evidence is pointing to the person in the video actually being me. Not saying that it wasn’t, but as soon as I saw the rumors I had to tell you that they weren’t true in any way so… I booked it all the way from my place to here.”

I slowly nodded, trying to process what the hell he just said because I was still tired from being woken up this early.

“So… what you’re saying is that there are some dating rumors swirling around with you and another girl and you booked it here at two in the morning to let me know that they aren’t true when you could’ve just sent me a text that I would’ve read when I got up?”

He nodded, looking a little sad. I couldn’t put my finger on it when I felt a little sad when he told me that he was with a girl, but that didn’t stop a sly grin from forming on my lips.

“So… you were with a girl?” 

“Y/n/n, that’s not the point,” he sighed, placing his water bottle on the island, “What I’m saying is that nothing that you might read in the news is true.”

“Look Kook, who you’re in a relationship with is none of my business, your decisions are yours and as your best friend, I should be supportive of you.” 

He stood up so fast that it almost knocked over the chair and took two steps to stand in front of me, looking at me in a way that was pleading for me to understand.

“Y/n there’s nothing for you to be supportive of because we aren’t dating.” 

I looked at him, trying to figure out why he’s saying this, but ultimately shook my head in confusion and started to move away from him. He grabbed my wrist just as I was about to walk toward the living room, pulling me to him.

“You have to believe me.”

His voice was starting to sound frustrated and I started to feel the same as this conversation went on.

I huffed, “Listen, I don’t understand why you’re trying so hard to tell me that you’re not dating that girl!”

Quickly, he let go of my wrist, but cupped my face just as fast.

“Because I’m in love with you! Not some random girl that came to hang out with me at my house!”

My eyes widened at the confession. Everything became quiet and it felt like time had stopped around us. We stood there for what felt like an eternity just looking at each other. 

“What,” I whispered, though it sounded way too loud in the deafening silence that had surrounded us.

He took his hands away from my face and let them drop to his sides as he sighed, “I’m in love with you, Y/n. I have been for a while. That’s why I was trying so hard to convince you that the articles aren’t true.”

I couldn’t believe what he was saying. He was in love with me?! As much as I wanted that to be true, I still couldn’t believe it.

I shook my head, “Kook, you’re sleep deprived, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Y/n, I know what I’m saying. Don’t you believe me,” he asked.

I started to slowly back away from him, “No, because it’s super late and you should get some sleep. We can talk about this tomorrow.”

I turned around to walk to the living room. He followed me, “Why can’t you believe that I’m in love with-”

I whirled around to face him, “Because that can’t happen!” 

Tears started to well up in my eyes as I continued, “We… can’t happen.”

He looked visibly confused at my statement. I sighed, willing away the tears before they could fall.

“We can’t happen,” I repeated. He took a step towards me, “Why not?”

“Because, Jungkook, you’re an idol. You’re famous, but I’m not. Sure I work with you and the others, but no one knows me. And think about ARMY, do you really think that they would be okay with you being in a relationship with someone that they don’t know?”

He thought for a moment, “I think that they would be happy for me.”

“Do you really believe that? That some of them wouldn’t come after me because I’m some rando who’s dating one of their favorite idols? That they would peacefully let us be? Because I don’t think they would.”

He was going to say something, but I interrupted him, “and as much as I would love to be in a relationship with you, I think that being friends is about as much as I’m going to be a part of your life, Jungkook.”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “So that’s it? We know each other’s feelings, but we can’t be together?”

I sadly nodded. He crossed his arms and I leaned against the back of the couch. We stood in silence for a few moments before Jungkook sighed and walked over to lean against the couch next to me. 

“So what do we do now,” he whispered.

I glanced at him and sucked in a breath, already regretting what I’m about to say.

“You go home, we get some rest, and forget about this night.”

He gently took my hand and I closed my eyes to stop the tears that were forming again. 

“I don’t think that I can do that, Y/n.”

I looked at him and saw his eyebrows furrowed like they usually do when he’s tearing up.

“We’re gonna have to for now, but maybe one day when things settle down we can try this and see where it goes?”

I wanted to give him some sort of hope, but I wasn’t sure if I completely believed what I was saying.

He slowly nodded at my statement as I reluctantly pushed off the couch, letting his hand fall from mine and made my way over to the door, placing my hand on the cold handle.

“But I think it would be for the best if you left now. It's late and we still have work tomorrow.”

Jungkook’s gaze fell to the ground before trudging over to the door. I opened the door as he came closer, stepping to the side. He started to walk out, but paused in the middle of the doorway and turned to face me.

“Are we okay?”

I put on my best smile and nodded, “Of course we are, Kook. Now get some rest, okay?”

He nodded, “Goodnight, Y/n/n.”

With that, he left. I sighed and whispered to myself, “Goodnight, Kookie,” before closing the door.

I stood with my back against the door. What just happened, I thought.

I felt like crying, but there wasn’t anything to cry about because I was right. I didn’t want to get attacked or followed just because I was in a relationship with him, no matter how much I really did want that relationship.

Realizing that thinking about it won’t help, I pushed off the door to make my way toward my room to get some sleep and avoid overthinking.

This really is like the ‘right person, wrong time’ trope, huh?

I scoffed as I settled into bed. “God, I hate that trope.”

[lovlive]

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ midnight insomnia' - c.yj

SYNOPSIS - its the middle of the night and you have 2 problems; no.1 you cant sleep, and no.2 you miss your boyfriend. PAIRING - choi yeonjun x f!reader GENRE - fluff, established relationship WARNINGS - reader is depicted with a pink colour, reader is called ‘baby’ and ‘girlfriend’, just yeonjun and y/n being really cute with eachother <3 requested from anon: hi! i dont think you've posted yet, maybe your busy or just dont know what to write about since your a new blog, but i want to put in a req.. could you do reader x yeonjun with the prompt “i can’t sleep, come to my bed” id actually die AAH im so curious what you could turn this into, thanks :}

notes: thanku sm for the req! yeah, i havent been writing yet since my brain was blank tbh i had no ideas for a fanfic in mind 😭😭 but now youve added fuel to my fire and ill try start writing more often :3 (and yes, the 127 in the fic was on purpose)

The moon cast a soft glow through the small sliver between your curtains, painting the room in hues of silver. In the quiet of the night, you tossed and turned under your soft blanket, unable to find solace in slumber. As you battled with your insomnia, you just couldnt keep your mind off of one thing; Yeonjun. You couldnt stop thinking about the way he would hold you through these chilly early-spring nights, and how much you missed his warm body next to yours. At this point you’ve realised just how starved you were from him despite only seeing him a couple of days ago.

You gave up on your slumber, rolling like a log from one side of your bed to another to pick up your phone. The sharp glow from the screen hit your eyes, your face instinctively scrunching up since you werent used to the brightness. Your fingers lazily glided over to the message app icon, and then tapped on Yeonjun’s contact. The time at the side of the screen caught your eye, and your realised it was 1:27 AM. You were a little weary of texting your boyfriend at this late hour; you knew that he was probably tired after a long day of practicing and you didnt want to seem selfish or too clingy. But you shook off your bad feelings since you knew that Yeonjun wasnt the type to be able to fall asleep easily either. You began to type your messages…

“jjunieeee..”

“baby… ☹️”

As expected, Yeonjun was of course awake. Your one word messages were opened by him a minute later. He looked at the texts, a little confused on why you’d be texting him right now. Any how, he started typing back.

“y/n? why’re you still up. you better not be up to some weird shi 😐”

“jjunie, i cant sleep. come to my bed.”

“baby, its half 1 in the morning.”

“please..😔 i really cant sleep and i need sum1 by my side 😞”

“y/n you’re going to be the death of me... but what wouldnt i do for my beautiful girlfriend”

“ill be there in 5”

“yippee! 😇 i love you ❤️”

“love you more baby ❤️”

Your face lit up as your boyfriend agreed to come over. You immediately put your phone back on your side table and plugged it back into charging, then quickly tossed the dirty socks that were lying on your bedroom floor underneath your bed to appear a little tidier. After a little while, you could hear a quiet knock echo through your small apartment; your face lighting up once again. Your feet quickly brought you to your hallway, where you rummaged your drawer for your keys. Eventually finding them, you jammed the correct key into the keyhole, twisiting it and gently opening the door. As your boyfriend appears from behind the door, you immediately pull him into a hug, shutting the door behind him. “Whats up with you today?” He teases as he feels your arms lock around him tightly, wrapping his arms around your waist in response. “Just missed you baby.” You responded, taking in his soft scent which you missed badly. “Y/n, we just saw eachother a few days ago..” His chuckle landed right in your ear, warm breath brushing right up against your ear. The sensation of course did not fail to make you blush a little. “Yeah, but ‘just a few days ago’ feels like an eternity to me.” You whisper into his shoulder, finding comfort in just burrying your face in his shoulder and hiding from the world. You feel his hands come away from your waist and up to your back, rubbing small circles. “You really arent a patient person, are you? Now, lets get you to bed.” He whispers as he takes your hand in his and begins to lead you over to your bedroom. You obviously dont resist, and grip his hand back as you walk behind him. None of you made a sound as you walked to your bedroom. Both of your social batteries were drained from the long day you’ve survived today, and all you wanted to do was to hold eachother in peace as you tried to fall back into a slumber.

You walk into your bedroom, and Yeonjun leads you straight to your bed. He lets you crawl in and under the covers as he takes off his jacket and throws it onto the chair you have by your desk. He came just wearing his pajamas, since he knew all you were going to do together was snuggle and sleep. He climbs onto your bed, arms wrapping tightly around your body as your face hides in his chest. His hand runs through your soft hair in a consoling manner, trying to get you to feel more tired and sleepy. His hands work like magic, your eyes beginning to feel heavier by the minute. But before you fall asleep, you give his hand a gentle squeeze and manage to whisper a set of three familiar words.

“I love you.”

[menaasstuff]

Two of A Kind: The Wrong Twin

Chapter 1

word count: 2.8k

The blaring of an alarm woke Jane with a start, blinking blearily she could make out the beginnings of the morning light peaking in from the sliver of space that the curtains failed to cover. Turning to her side away from the widow she watched the outline of her sister sleeping peacefully on her bed across from her, chest rising and falling peacefully as drool dripped from the side of her mouth. Narrowing her eyes, she reached behind her grabbing her stuffed bunny animal that she’d had since her childhood, Jane flung it with all the force she could muster hitting her target right in the face with the plush. With a muffled thud, the stuffed bunny hit her sister square in the face, causing her to jolt awake with a startled yelp. Her eyes flew open, wide with confusion, as she wiped the drool from her mouth and blinked in bewilderment.

"What the...?" she mumbled, rubbing her eyes, and trying to make sense of the situation.

Jane couldn't help but burst into laughter at her sister's disheveled state, her amusement evident in the mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Good morning, sleepyhead!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with playful teasing.

Her sister's expression shifted from confusion to annoyance as she realized what had just happened. "Jane, seriously? Do you have to wake me up like that?" she grumbled, tossing the stuffed bunny back in her direction.

But Jane just laughed even harder, dodging the flying plush toy with practiced ease. "Come on, you have to admit, it was pretty funny," she insisted, her laughter echoing through the room.

Despite her initial irritation, her sister couldn't help but crack a smile at Jane's infectious laughter. "Yeah, yeah, whatever," she replied, rolling her eyes in mock exasperation. "Just don't make a habit of it, okay?"

“I wouldn’t need to if you’d wake up to your own alarm, you do realize you get up a whole hour before I do right, maybe you should’ve thought about that before you got a scholarship to the rich school Mrs. Honor roll” Jane retorted with a chortle as her sister groaned while rolling out of bed to begin getting ready.

“Yea well not all of us can count on our martial art skills to get us into college, going to Kocher will give me a leg up so I guess someone just going to have to deal with waking up early” Her sister, Jessi, finished with a laugh before ducking out of thee room when she saw her sister begin to playfully get out of bed. Dropping back down on her bed with a sigh, jane shook her head fondly at her brother before deciding to get an early start on breakfast before getting ready.

The two siblings had been attached at the hip since birth, whether this had anything to do with them quite literally being born at the same time was neither here nor there. Jane being born 2 minutes before Jessi was a fact that she refused to let her forget and often led her to assume the big sister role, which she’d then point out was unnecessary considering they were the same age. Their parents' dedication to their noodle shop was unwavering, often requiring them to leave home before dawn to prepare for the day ahead. Despite the financial strain, they had always prioritized their children's education, instilling in Jane and Jessi the value of hard work and determination.

Jane couldn't help but feel a swell of pride as she thought about her sister's scholarship to Kocher High School. She knew firsthand the effort and dedication she had put into achieving such a feat, and she admired her for it. Though their parents' income was stretched thin, Jane had willingly contributed a significant portion of her savings from winning martial arts competions to help cover Jessi's uniform and book expenses, understanding that education was an investment in their future.

Their bond as siblings was unbreakable, forged through years of shared experiences and mutual support. Despite being born just two minutes apart, Jane often found herself assuming the role of the protective older sister, a responsibility that Jessi sometimes teased her about. But for Jane, it was a role she embraced wholeheartedly, always ready to help her sister whenever she needed. When they were at the same school that usually mean stopping people from picking on her but thankfully her transfer to this new school meant those day were gone.

Glancing at the clock she notices that it was about the rime that she’d need to start getting ready to head out as well, plating Jessi’s breakfast she made her way upstairs just in time to pass her on her way down.

“Breakfast is on the table, don’t forget to eat before heading out have a good day little sister” she teased with a chuckle before ducking into the bathroom to avoid her sister’s wrath. As Jane stepped into the bathroom, she glanced at her reflection in the mirror. Her heart-shaped face, dotted with freckles, stared back at her with determination. Her short hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders, framing her features with a touch of effortless charm.

Deciding to forgo makeup for the day, Jane pulled her hair back into a low ponytail, securing it with a hair tie. She admired the way the strands cascaded down her back, a testament to her easygoing nature.

People often remarked on the striking resemblance she shared with her sister, from their similar heart-shaped faces to the way their hazel eyes crinkled when they laughed the only difference being that Jessi had taken to dying her natural dark brown hair a honey blonde since they’d hit puberty. With a final adjustment to her ponytail, Jane flashed herself a grin in the mirror. Ready to face the day ahead, she gathered her belongings and headed downstairs.

As Jane breezed into the kitchen, her eyes fell upon the familiar sight of Jessi's school jacket slung over the back of a chair. She couldn't help but chuckle at her sister's forgetfulness, shaking her head in amusement.

"Looks like someone forgot their jacket," Jane mused to herself, reaching out to grab the garment. She held it up with a playful smirk, inspecting it as if it held all the answers to life's mysteries. Since Jessi had started a Kocher at the beginning of their junior year, she’d forgotten her jacket a handful of times but each time, jane found joy in teasing her sister about his forgetfulness.

"Better not let her leave without this," Jane muttered to herself, a grin spreading across her face. With a quick glance at the clock, she hoped she might have just enough time to catch up to Jessi before she the bus came like she usually did and headed out the door.

-

-

-

After catching the bus to her own school, Jane was currently at her locker grabbing her books for her first class and putting her bag away. Just as she was about to close her locker, she felt a presence creeping up behind her. With a playful giggle, she spun around to find herself face to face with her best friend, Kanning.

"Boo!" Kanning exclaimed, grinning mischievously as she leaned against the locker next to Jane's. "Caught you off guard, didn't I?"

Jane couldn't help but laugh at her friend's antics. "You sure did," she replied, rolling her eyes playfully. "What are you doing here so early? Don't tell me you're actually on time for once."

Kanning laughed, shaking her head. "Hey, I'll have you know that I am perfectly punctual when it counts," she insisted, though the twinkle in her eye gave her away. Jane laughed while shaking her head at her friend before slinging her arm over her shoulder and leading her in the direction of a table to chat before school started.

“Our group seems to have shrunk in the last yea huh. First Gorya and now Jessi, the fantastic four is separated” Kanning faked a crying sound while leaning her head onto Jane’s shoulder.

“Oh, what ever will we do, there there don’t cry” Jane comforted before pinching kanning’s cheek to get her to drop the act. “Quit your dramatics, we’ll see them later at Uncle Ga’s. Besides, is this your way of saying that I’m boring” she finished while feigning a glare and crossing her arms. Kanning's fake sobbing turned into giggles as Jane pinched her cheek. "Oh, please! Like anyone could ever find you boring," she retorted with a playful eye roll. "But seriously, it does feel a bit strange without the whole gang together."

Jane nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it's different, but change can be a good thing, right? Besides we get to brag that our friends got in the top school in the country. We’ll just have to hold down the fort for them hm."

Kanning grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "You're right, fearless leader! The adventures of the fantastic four continue, even if we're missing a few heroes today," she declared, striking a superhero pose for emphasis.

Jane couldn't help but laugh at her friend's enthusiasm. "Fantastic four it is, then. But speaking of missing members, guess who forgot her school jacket this morning?" she said, her voice laced with amusement.

Kanning raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Who, Jessi? No surprises there," she replied with a chuckle. "Wait, doesn’t she have a debate competition today! What’s she going to do?” Kanning stood as the realization struck her.

Jane grinned while placing her hand on her friend’s arm to get her to sit back down. "Relax, I’ve got it figured out, I’ll just sneak out during lunch and take it to her." she replied, a hint of mischief dancing in her eyes.

Kanning laughed, shaking her head in amusement. "You're too good to her, you know that? But hey, it's all part of being the fantastic four," she said, linking her arm with Jane's as they headed to their first class. "Today’s shaping up to be quite the adventure, jacket delivery and all!"

-

-

-

“Are you sure about this?” Kanning whispered while watching Jane scale the fence behind the gym, which faced the street.

“How are you even going to make it into their school without drawing attention to yourself?” Jane paused, perched on the fence for a moment before a grin spread across her lips. “I’ll just have to use our face card to get in.”

Kanning snorted. “Are you forgetting that you and Jessi haven’t had the same hair color since you hit puberty?”

Jane rolled her eyes before gesturing to her backpack, which was in Kanning’s grip. When she handed it to her, Jane pulled out a black bucket hat, placing it on her head with a cheeky grin. “Problem solved! I’ll be back before you know it, cover for me.”

Landing on the other side of the fence, Jane turned back to Kanning with a smile, to which she got an eyeroll in response. “That stopped being cool since we were freshmen. Don’t forget to set your watch; you have 40 minutes until lunch ends. Get there and back before then,” Kanning emphasized with a faux-serious look toward her friend.

Jane flashed a thumbs-up before darting off, disappearing around the corner of the school building. Kanning shook her head, a mixture of amusement and concern crossing her features as she watched her friend go.

Approaching the school Jane let out an impressed whistle at the size before continuing to the entrance, as she was about to approach, she quickly ducked back when she spotted a security guard. Looking around she noticed that the fence was much higher than the one at her school and would draw to much attention if she tried to scale it. During her panic, she noticed a luxurious car approaching the guard and smirked as an idea struck her, slipping on her sisters jacket she caught up to the car and put her plan into action.

As the car pulled up to the guard, Jane seized the opportunity and slipped in behind it, using the vehicle as a shield to hide her presence. She kept her head down, hoping the guard wouldn't notice her as he attended to the occupants of the car.

From her vantage point, Jane listened intently, her heart pounding in her chest. She could hear snippets of conversation between the guard and the occupants of the car, but her nerves made it difficult to focus. All she could think about was the risk she was taking and the consequences if she were caught.

As the car pulled away from the guard, Jane seized the opportunity and continued to use it as cover, staying close behind until it was safely past the guard. With bated breath, she waited for the perfect moment to break away and make her move. Once she thought she was far enough away she stood straight and begin walking away, unaware of the back window rolling down from the backseat with curious eyes.

-

-

-

Navigating the ginormous halls of the school proved to be another task, jane found herself turned around more times than she’d like to admit. By the time she’d finally managed to find what looked to be a cafeteria a glance at her watch showed that she had about 20 minutes to find her sister and get back to her own school.

Jane hurried through the crowded cafeteria, her eyes scanning the sea of faces for any sign of her sister, she nearly cried of relief when she spotted her sister sitting with Gorya at a table in the far-right corner of the cafeteria. As she began making her way over the table she was stopped as a group of girls rushed by her shrieking towards a staircase where she saw four boys descending. Continuing her way albeit little confused, Jane ducked her head down as she began to pass the group only to once again have her path interrupted by the sparkiest pair of loafers she’d ever seen. Slowly raising her gaze, she came to face the owner of the shoes, a boy who looked at her with a mix of irritation and condensation.

Jane felt a pang of unease as she met the boy's gaze, his eyes piercing through her with an intensity that made her squirm uncomfortably. She shifted on her feet, suddenly self-conscious as she noticed the silence that washed over the cafeteria under his scrutiny.

"Excuse me," she mumbled, attempting to sidestep him and continue her way, but the boy didn't move, blocking her path with an air of deliberate stubbornness.

"You know if you’re going to use someone’s car to sneak into school late, you should make sure you know whose car it is” he said, his tone clipped and authoritative. "You’re lucky I don’t charge you the cleaning bill, since I’ll have to get, you’re fingerprints washed off later."

Jane bristled at the accusation, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I-I'm sorry," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "It was a special circumstance."

The boy arched an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by her apology. "Well, next time, keep your hands off thing you probably won’t ever be able to afford," he replied, his tone dismissive as he brushed past her with his entourage, his shoulders stiff with indignation. Jane’s irritation spiked as he passed by “Jerk” she mumbled with an eyeroll.

“What was that?” She heard behind her and turned, “Oh I’m sorry was that not loud enough for you” clearing her throat she paused “I said you’re a Jerk” she finished sounding out the word for extra emphasis.

“Do you know who you’re talking to?” the boy retorted, taking an imposing step towards the girl. “No and quite frankly I don’t care to either” she continued scanning him from head to toe before casting a glance to her watch “I’ve already wasted enough time on you, if you’ll excuse me”

“I’m not done talking to you-” the rough hand landing on her shoulder was the last straw. Jane's martial arts training kicked in instinctively, her movements fluid and controlled. The boy's entourage stared in disbelief as their leader found himself unexpectedly on the floor, his eyes wide with shock. Jane stood over him, her expression a mixture of defiance and amusement.

"You really should learn to keep your hands to yourself," she quipped, her confidence returning. Their eyes locked in a moment in a stare off before a whistle broke through the silence.

“Stop, right there young lady!” A teacher appeared pointing a ruler at Jane, whose eye widened before she took off in the opposite direction.

As the girl ran down the hall in search of the exit, she yelped as her arm was suddenly grabbed and she was yanked in a dark supply closet. Putting her arms up she prepared to swing before letting out a breath at the familiar face in front of her.

“Jessi!” “What did you do!” the girls both exclaimed at the same time.

[dzpenumbra]

4/25/23

Wow, actually writing this at 2AM again. Take a wild guess why... If you guessed "sleep deprivation", you get a goddamn cookie.

4 hours last night. And the nap didn't work this time, so I just stayed up. Now I've got the sleep deprivation sweats, ever get those? Where it almost feels like a fever, and you get kinda numb and tingly. Fun.

I got to bed 2 hours earlier than normal, but couldn't fall asleep. It's actually been a while since I've had that problem. That used to be my primary life problem, it would take me like... at least an hour to fall asleep every night. I'd just lay there, and my mind would race and I'd toss and turn until I eventually fell asleep. I had a night like that last night, and then again when I tried for my "second-sleep" and failed.

I had more dreams including my mom, I'm sure that's part of it. I don't know. I think it's the Mother's Day ads that are doing it, because it's right around the corner... <eyeroll> I didn't feel emotionally upset when I woke up, it didn't feel like a nightmare. It didn't feel like my neighbors woke me up, I just... woke up. And I was up. And I did not want to go back to sleep for some reason. And I hopped on Instagram and... had the same fucking problem. 3-4 posts to cleanse the palate, then an ad to ruffle my feathers, rinse/repeat. After a bit of scrolling, I started to notice that nothing I was seeing was something I'm actually following. Like... okay, if you're just going to spam my feed with paid advertisements and "suggested" shit, why the fuck do I bother following people? Just fucking say "hey, this is the end of your feed, would you like us to suggest something more?"

Motherfuckers act like curating content for you without you asking is like... a favor. Let me tell you how utterly atrocious this system is, and why it should be opt in, not opt out. I am subbed to the PTSD subreddit. And I got suggested "r/OopsThatsDeadly", which is all visual content of life-threatening situations. Explain to me how that happened. Explain to me how or why that should ever happen. That shit upset me, man. Like... no one asked you to add these features, half the sites won't even let you turn them off, and I really can't think of how these features could work worse.

I tried to do music today. I didn't really work. I'm overthinking shit, or it's just not flowing right, I don't know. So I gave that a whirl for a good chunk of the day, but just tapped out after a while and switched over to art. I decided to hand-draw an abstract ink piece today. I have an empty blank sketchbook that I've been meaning to put shit in, and today was the day, I decided. I went with a sorta bubble-based organic pattern and over the course of the evening filled up the entire page. I can tell I haven't been drawing as much as I used to, my hand's all sore and shit. It just has some fill work to do and then it's done. It was a nice change of pace after this last concept piece, which did not have a lot of drawing, despite the animation work.

And that was basically the day, honestly. Super low-key. I decided to pull the trigger on reserving the shared car last night, so it's reserved for Wednesday afternoon. People from the building are supposed to come and inspect my floor's apartments on Wednesday, no clue what time of day, likely morning, knowing normal humans. So... my plan is to... get to sleep early tonight, then hopefully even earlier tomorrow... Get woken up by a knock on my door. Awkwardly walk them around my apartment half-awake. Then pound an energy drink, and head up to the car around 1PM, drive over to the National Park for the first time and film some trail walking footage for the desire path project. That's pretty much the last missing piece, short of an outro thing... which I'm still back and forth about. I mean... it can't hurt to plug my Patreon, it's just... it just sucks to remember that I have one... and to see how much metaphoric dust has accumulated there.

I started writing about my career for a minute there and then got super depressed, so... I'm just gonna clip that and save it for another time. Let's just say... "it's complicated". I remember the days I used to be really confident and proud to share my work on social media and shit... actually... do I? Actually... now that I think about it... I have never really been one to like... flaunt anything on social media. Like.. if people are interested in my shit - like genuinely interested - I'll tell them anything they ever wanted to know. I just... I don't commoditize my work. Which is so fucking foreign in this country, in this culture. To be a worker... who runs their own business... who produces a product, and the product is technically for sale, but is not explicitly advertised or marketed. Because it's an art piece, not a fucking postcard. And there's an insane amount of pressure to convert all of your art into marketable commodities nowadays. Stickers, prints, merch, you name it. And if that's what you want to do, fucking go for it! I even have a print shop (that I was pressured by my parents into setting up...) for my pieces that were kinda more catered to that... style, I guess. That intention. But the past few years, I found that mentality so fucking restrictive, and I found myself throwing away dozens of amazing ideas because I didn't think they were going to... work. I didn't think they fit my "business model". Good lord, talk about corporatizing art... Ugh.

My past year and a half was breaking from that mold. I have some things I can commoditize if I choose... but my Holy Grail quest has been searching for a good, supportive community that can get me linked up with people who genuinely want to fund my projects. And, on paper, I feel like Patreon could do that. And then I can just get that nasty "how can I hock mass-produced copies" mentality off of my fucking back. Because my work has always been about sentimentality, hand-craft, personal touch. Every piece different, every piece unique. Even before the tattooing, that was there.

I literally cut myself off from talking about my career to... talk about my career. ... Meh.

I just want to say... because it's floating around my mind over and over... it sucks to work very hard on projects day in and day out, from beginning to completion, and have it mean nothing to others. My mom would always give me shit, "you need to create more value for others." Not even kidding, direct quote, can't even count how many times I've heard that. Talk about seeds for a self-esteem complex, "you need to create more value". Bitch, my shit is priceless. Try putting a price on a series of stones I hand-polished over the course of the last few weeks of my cat's life, and the first few weeks of mourning her death. A grief piece. Try to put a fucking price on that shit. Try to sell those.

It frustrates me so much that the arts get so little support nowadays. Like people are perfectly content to watch another regurgitated remake of something they remember from 20 years ago... Gah... I'm generalizing. Not everyone is like that. I'm just gonna nip that one.

So yeah, clearly talking about that stuff is tough for me still, I'm sure it shows in my writing how scattered and chaotic my thinking gets around it. HOWEVER... when I get inspiration? Like my hoodie backpiece - I had a really cool idea to do commissioned pieces where I do like... "clothing tattoos"... in permanent ink or fabric paint, so they last as long as I can possibly make them last. When my inspiration calls me, it will literally pull me out of sleep. And I will work my hands to the bone, regardless of whether I have a client, regardless of bodily needs. And I don't mind the process at all. It's like... it's encoded into who I am as a person. I would get shit in high school and college because I would be drawing in the margins and on my pants and arms and shit constantly.

When I developed this system of just... striking while the iron's hot, capturing inspiration as it comes and seeing where it leads... I started to just... overflow with creativity. I couldn't stop, I had to force myself to stop working to eat and sleep. Kinda like me writing here. Once I get in the zone, in the Flow, and it's all linked up and just... going... I typically have to like... consciously stop myself or else I will go for literal hours. And... I'm gonna be honest... I don't see a ton of people writing more than 144 characters nowadays who aren't being paid to do it. And the ones who are? A lot of them are trying to find AI to do the lion's share for them.

I feel like it's coded into who I am. And making it work for me? That has led to me making some of the coolest shit I've ever made in my life. Shit I never would've dreamed of making. So yeah, I'm really lucky I have the opportunity to pursue this, because if I wasn't? I'd be daydreaming at some job I didn't care about all day every day, and that kinda just feels like... waiting to live, or something. Like waiting for a life to start, but like... I'm sorry... I don't think anyone is gonna come walkin into a shop I'm working at and just hand me the job I'm describing here. I'm not even sure how to describe it to people myself!

I just really need to power through these anxieties and get linked up with an artist's community, like a collective or something. But the one near me? I... I'm gonna be honest... I'm not sure I'll fit there... Like... one of my upcoming pieces is going to be a carved goat skull dyed with homemade inks made from incense ash and coffee grounds. And they've got like... stylized drawings of cats and shit. No offense, it's good work, it's just... you know... I feel like I'm kinda doing a different thing. Like, if I go to the person who only draws cats... and I say "hey, I had this idea the other day, I want to go in the woods and transplant moss into carefully measured geometric designs outlined with stones. But I want it to be a pop-up thing. Something that isn't clearly announced, something that just... organically appears in nature. How do I get someone to help me with my bills while I work on that project entirely by myself?" I'm gonna level... I think they're gonna look at me like I just sprouted 40 heads.

So... until I can get that figured out? I'm just living off the cash I got from selling my car, and whatever charity I get from my family... who don't talk to me. Scary way to live. But it's just where things are for right now.

So yeah... I'm super tired. But... you know what? I'll share what I worked on today. It's not done, so... yeah.

I haven't finished filling in the connecting bits, and I was going to completely fill the left side, by the spine. So yeah, a little break from the mold. It's been a while since I've done patterns like this, especially consistent circles, usually I do more organic shapes. I was just watching this video on soil compositions the other day that made me think of these types of designs, and how you can look at them two different ways, like a stretched membrane with holes in it, or like bubbles or particles suspended in a medium or something. Or maybe both? Idk, it's very meditative, very relaxing work.

As for future projects, there's the hoodie that I have to finish, my horoscope chart on the back of it and mandalas all down the right sleeve... there's the goat skull... I have a wood carving that's been sitting in my mind lately that I'd like to attempt at some point this summer, we'll see if I get around to it... I have my helmet and my grip tape on my new skateboard to customize... I still don't know what to do with either of them right now... I was thinking maybe a really detailed phoenix on the griptape? I don't know, I'm giving it time to come to me. And... I wanted to do a painting of the Egyptian god Thoth on my cargo shorts. Maybe some ornamentation to go with it. Not sure.

Ya think I've got enough work backlogged?! I love this desire path project, it's a really cool concept and the whole thing is turning out well, I'm just... I'm kinda ready to be done with it. XD Just to start working on something new, you know? And this, this ink drawing today? That was very refreshing, it felt great.

That's a really good vibe, so I'm cool ending there. :)

[shaunlovesyou]

Lets get you cleaned up ~ Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw

You hear three firm knocks against your front door, the familiar sound echos through the house. Looking up at the clocks bright green characters you take note of the time, 2:43 am. You lift the duvet off your body and your feet drift instinctively across the hardwood floors, following the same course of action they’ve grown so accustomed to. Despite taking longer than you usually would to open the door for a guest, the man waiting patiently behind the piece of wood guarding your home knows you’ll arrive to his aid eventually, you’ve never failed him before.

As you reach the door you hesitate, anticipating the mixed feelings of panic, dread, and worry. Your hand goes to unlock the door but you falter, bringing it back down by your side. The feeling of uneasiness in your stomach multiplies rapidly with every second that passes. You gather your hair away from your face and breathe in a deep breath, you hold it and think of what would happen if you were to let your feet guide you back up the stairs and into the safety of your bed.

You shakily let out the breath you’ve been holding for a few moments too long, you’re shoulders deflate but you don’t feel any more relaxed knowing whats waiting for you on your porch.

You open the door, your eyes squeezed tightly shut, drawing out the short amount of time you have to be blissfully ignorant. As your eyes flutter open you look up you see what you expected to, Bradley Bradshaw leaning against the concrete wall beside you with a solemn expression adorning his tired face. He looks guilty, guilty for waking you in the early hours of the morning, guilty for putting you through the stress of having to mend his bones and clean his wounds.

You quickly assess his injuries and make a mental note of what you’ll need to be able to fix his injuries.

“Lets get you cleaned up.” you say breaking the painful silence.

He winces at your monotone voice, knowing you’re fed up with this dynamic. You don’t  wait to see if hes following you, knowing that he knows this routine. You hear the door shut quietly behind your retreating back and soft footsteps following you deeper into the house.

By the time hes reached the bathroom you already have your makeshift first aid kit resting on the granite counter top, you had no need for it until Bradley started showing up at your house to be mended after getting into random bar fights.

He hoists himself onto the counter and stares at you while you get the disinfectant and cotton swabs ready.

“I’m sorry, I really am.” he apologises, waiting for you to respond with your usual ‘it’s alright’.

“Yep.” you sigh and start to clean the gash placed on his temple, squinting due to the bright bathroom lights.

“Are you not going to hold my hand? Give me words of encouragement?” Bradley laughs through the pain coming from his forehead, trying to lighten the mood.

You stare at him blankly, annoyance radiating off of you. Your hands drop to your sides as if there are weights tied to your wrists. You toss the bloody cotton swab into the stainless steel dish to your left.

As you clean the rest of the scratches and scrapes adorning Bradley’s sun kissed skin he keeps his mouth shut, deciding he didn’t want to annoy you more after taking note of your furrowed brows, narrowed eyes, and tightly clenched jaw.

“Done.” you announce, not bothering to question how he’d gotten into the state he’s currently in, knowing it was probably something stupid.

You turn to your right and walk towards your bedroom, you throw an uninterested glance at the analogue clock perched on your bedside locker, 3:21 am. As you climb under the covers Bradley closes the bedroom door and strips himself from his clothes until hes left in his underwear. He throws the duvet over himself, trying to disturb you as little as possible.

After 10 minutes of twisting and turning he flips over to his left to face you, “Can you just lie and say you forgive me so I can fall asleep,” he begs, his voice laced with exasperation. “please.” he adds.

“No Bradley, I can’t because every week my sleep is interrupted because you’ve gotten into another idiotic fight,” you exclaim, almost yelling, not knowing where you got this sudden burst of energy from. “and I wouldn’t mind it so much if you addressed these stupid feelings between us!”

“Y/N” he says, his voice strained.

“No, we’re actually going to talk about this tonight because I’m sick of it!” you interrupt. “You can’t climb into my bed half naked and pretend to be my boyfriend for the night only for you to disappear when the sun comes up, my hearts being torn to shreds, thrown on the ground, and stomped on repeatedly!” you exclaim, now sitting up in the small bed.

“So what, you want me to be your boyfriend?” he asks disparagingly, sitting upright now as well.

“Yes!” you yell. “Is that too much to ask for?”

“What if I go up in the air and i don’t come back down alive? I’d leave you with nothing but a broken heart.”

“Do you not think I’ve not thought about that? I don’t care Bradley, I just want to know if you would have a serious relationship with me. My hearts broken enough as it is!” you cry, tears starting to form in your eyes. “Or am I someone you want to hide away? You crawl into bed with me at night, then go about your life during the day.”

“Y/N I’d do anything to be with you but you deserve so much more than I could ever give you. I’m not going to be selfish and hold you back when you’re capable of having a life beyond imagination without me.”

“I dont want that Bradley, I want to be with you, every single second of every single day.” you proclaim, using the last ounce of power in you to project your voice around the room. Tears stream down your face, falling from your eyes to your chin then onto the soft duvet covering both your bodies.

Tears are Bradley’s weakness, he instantly holds your face gently in his hands, using his thumbs to wipe the tears sprouting from your eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” he mutters, trying to stop the flow of tears from gliding down your face.

“I love you. As scary as it is, it’s true. I love you Bradley Bradshaw.” you whisper, practically in his lap, enjoying the warmth of his body being so close to yours.

“I love you Y/N. God I love you. I have since the moment my eyes found yours. Since we had our first conversation, I’ve known, deep down inside of me that you’re the woman I want to spend the entirety of my life with.” he vows. 

His face approaches yours slowly, your breath hitches and you lean in. Your lips meet in the middle and you share a long passionate kiss. It seems like you’ve waited an eternity for this to happen, but god was it worth the wait.

[sparklefics]

Cuddles & Cocoa

For Kathie’s @pellucid-constellations writing challenge. #loveletterswritingchallenge

Chubby!College!Bucky & F!Reader

WC: 5.7 ish

Warnings: Hurt comfort, loss, grief, depression, overall sadness, therapy.

A/N: Happy Valentine's enjoy the most self indulgent piece I've ever written. It got a bit out of hand. What can I say, I was inspired.

Prompts were: "I take it you’re here cause you read my letter." & "I'm sitting here, with this stupid pen in my hand, and damn I can't believe you have me writing right now."

Part 2 ➡ because I have no self control.

"So, you're back early. How'd it go with Sweets? Isn't she great?" Steve asks as Bucky walks through the door of their shared apartment.

Steve tried to set up Bucky with you. Bucky was fresh out of a failed relationship.

"She's nice." Bucky says with a grimace already expecting Steve's reaction.

"Hmm, so when are you going out with her?"

"I'm not...I didn't ask her out."

"WHY NOT? She's perfect for you. She's sweet and nice, and smart which is a step up for your usual type."

"I can tell from just two hours of knowing her. That girl gives off wifey and best friends vibes, that shit is rare. She's not rebound material, she's the type of girl you bring home to meet your ma."

"Hey, Buck." Your sweet voice brings him out of his thoughts about you. "Mind if I join you?"

It's way past midnight and Bucky had tossed and turned in bed for the past two hours, he eventually gave up and decided to sit by the fireplace in the living room. He'd rented out this cabin to enjoy one last holiday break with his friends in their last year of school. It'd be their last hoorah before fully going off into adulthood.

"Not at all." Bucky smiles and pats the space beside him for you to join him. "Couldn't sleep?" he asks when you curl up in between his legs and lay against his chest, turning your face towards the fireplace.

"Nope. Nat and Lillian were making out and doing some heavy petting, they think they're quiet but they're really not."

Bucky chuckles and brings the blanket higher up on your body until it rests at your shoulders along with his big arms. You tilt your head to the side and a shiny piece of metal catches your eye. "Oh hey, what's this?" You bring it closer for inspection. James Barnes

"They were Grandpa's dog tags."

Bucky had a hard time dealing with his grandpa's passing earlier that year. His grandfather James had been sick for a long time, his illness had taken its natural course and earlier this year passed away in his sleep. At least it was peaceful, but that doesn't make it hurt any less to Bucky.

"What about you, why are you still up?" you gently squeeze his bicep.

"I don't know. Couldn't get comfortable enough I guess." he sighs.

"How about cuddles and cocoa?"

Cuddles and cocoa were your thing. It was a totally normal occurrence between the two of you.

It all started when you got ghosted by your date in your sophmore year. Bucky came to the rescue and met you at the cafe you were supposed to have a date but got stood up instead. He got you hot cocoa and cuddled up with you in the reading nook by the back of the cafe. A couple of weeks later, when Bucky failed a calculus test you showed up to his and Steve's apartment with hot cocoa and your old notes from when you took the class. You drank the cocoa, cuddled and then tutored him. He aced his next test. Ever since whenever either of you had a bad day you'd treat each other to hot cocoa and cuddles.

You were truly the best of friends, always in tune with each other's needs.

Bucky smiled and bopped your nose. "Yeah, cuddles might help."

"You stay right here, I'll be right back." You get up and tuck the blanket around him, dropping a quick kiss on his forehead before dashing to the kitchen to prepare the hot cocoa.

It hurts to see him still hurting like this. He's put himself on the back burner for so long.

After his grandpa passed Bucky stopped going to the gym, stopped going out with the guys and started over eating, missing classes. It was starting to become a problem, Sam and Steve didn't know how to talk to him without it sounding like an intervention or like they were judging him. So Steve asked you to do something, when you showed up with a loaded cardboard cup holder from your favorite cafe and a box of pastries he protested.

"No,Sweets, come on. I just got him to stop eating pancakes for dinner. We're trying to help him here--"

You cut him off. "Steven, just let me do my thing. He doesn't need to be told what he can or cannot do, what he can or cannot eat, or when he can or cannot eat. What Bucky needs is comfort. Now, get the door for me, please."

Steve knocked on Bucky's door before opening it and announcing your presence. Bucky just grunted in acknowledgement, you stepped into his dark room. Dirty laundry laid on the floor, old stale food on his bedside table, you took note of everything around you, cluing you into his state of mind.

You remind yourself that you are not there to judge but to help.

"Bucky."

"I can't believe Steve called you in."

You move to open the curtains and Bucky winces when the sunlight burns his eyes. You get a good look at him, pale face, dark circles around his eyes, a hint of a shadow where a beard used to be-- apparently Steve got him to shave at some point. Bucky wore sweatpants and a big sweater, it was all he wore since he started gaining weight. His hair had gotten longer and began curling at the base of his neck, a side effect of not going out- not even to get a haircut. Objectively speaking Bucky looked bad,of course he was still handsome, but the guy laying in bed was merely a shell of your best friend.

"Get up. Shower, wash your hair," You instruct. "And be quick, I don't want our hot cocoa to get cold."

At the mention of cocoa Bucky perked up and disappeared into the bathroom. While he showered you decided to clean up around his room, picked up his clothes and threw them in the hamper. You took out the trash, tidied up his desk, and even changed the sheets of his bed. Steve was impressed when you asked him for clean sheets.

When Bucky came out of the shower in a clean set of sweats, you noticed he'd shaved which you didn't ask him to. He did that all on his own. You smiled at him and patted the spot next to you on his bed. "C'mere. It's cuddles and cocoa time."

Bucky takes the cup of cocoa and the box of pastries.

That's another thing that's developed. Bucky is so quiet now, the total opposite of him. You're used to him being loud, the life of the party, the glue that keeps the friend group together. He's so withdrawn and monosilabic it's very sad to see him this way. There's really only so much you can do for him, which is being here. That's why Steve called you.

"How are you, Buck? Like really."

"I'm okay."

"Jamie…" You go in for a hug but he pulls back from your touch. That hurts.

"Please, don't call me that." He begs quietly on the brink of tears.

You want to take it back but it's too late. "Jame-Bucky, please, I just want to help you. Just tell me how."

He whispers 'shut the blinds' so quietly you almost miss it.

It's all he says, he's already met you halfway and now it's your turn. He showered like you asked so you shut the blinds like he asked. The room goes back to darkness and Bucky exhales loudly. You go back to the bed in the dark and immediately Bucky takes a hold of your hand. You don't say anything, neither does him. For a while you sit there holding his hand and drinking cocoa, you pass him the box of pastries and he takes an apple turnover, it's not his favorite but he can't tell the pastries apart in the dark.

"Buck, Steve told me you haven't been going to class."

"Yep."

"Why not? Do you want to drop your classes? It's okay if you do."

"No, I just don't feel like being around people."

"Well, why don't you switch to online courses?"

"I can do that?"

"Yep! I can set up an appointment with the counselor if you'd like."

Bucky stays silent for a minute pondering about it. "Would you go with me? I don't wanna back out…if you go then I can't not show up. I could never let you down."

"Aww that's sweet, Bucky. Of course I'll go with you, I just have one condition."

"I guess that's fair. What is it?"

"Cuddles?"

"Okay."

Bucky has gone through an emotional rollercoaster since his grandpa died. After the funeral Bucky retreated into himself, which you expected since he was depressed. When Steve started to worry alarms went off in your head, you got closer to Bucky just to be sure that he knew he wasn't alone, that he could count on his friends for support.

When your own father died you had no one to turn to, no one understood your pain. But for Bucky it is different, you understand his pain and thankfully he lets you be there for him.

You were there to help him cope, whether it was with cuddles and cocoa or just sitting with him in his dark bedroom holding his hand.

Eventually the cuddles and cocoa turned into cuddles and cocoa and talk.

With a belly full of warmth, and his arms full of you Bucky feels talkative and once he starts, he can't shut up. "...it's pathetic. It's almost been a year, everyone has moved on but me. Now I'm almost done with school, no future job lined up after graduation, fat, single and miserable."

"Uh-huh. Right. Pity party for one." You jab his ribs with your elbow.

You're both lounging on the pillow fort Bucky made while you prepared the cocoa. You are wrapped up with Bucky in between some thick blankets, your arms bound around his torso and one of his arms around your shoulders while the other trails up and down your spine.

"I'm not having a pity party, I'm being a realist."

"Well if we're being realistic, you still have months until graduation, plenty of time for you to line up a job. Second, you're not fat, there's just more of you to love." You move your hands to squish his cheeks in that adorable way that makes his lips pout. "Third, you're single and miserable by choice, I know a lot of girls who would love to date you."

"I don't want a lot of girls, just one in particular."

"That's good, Buck. See? You are moving on, setting goals for yourself. What's that thing your therapist says?"

"Celebrate the small victories." Bucky mumbles.

So you remind him that he has made progress. Bucky goes to therapy now, which has helped him out a lot. He no longer avoids his friends, or his family. He also switched back from online classes to in person for the fall semester, and then he planned this whole holiday getaway. He's very different from the sloppy, sad guy from months ago.

So what if he doesn't have his future figured out? It's no big deal.

"Grief is not a one size fits all type of situation. Not everyone has their futures figured out."

"You say that because you have that sweet job at Stark Industries lined up." Bucky trails his fingertips up your spine stopping at the side of your neck to tickle you.

"No, I say that because the future is uncertain, there are no guarantees. Like what does it matter that I have a job lined up, who says I'll even like the job?" In return for the tickling you wet your pinky finger and bring it up to his ear.

"Ew! Okay! Okay!" He swats your hands away. "I see your point."

You laugh and lay your head on his chest and hug him tightly. Bucky kisses your cheek, "Good night, Sweets."

"Good night, Bucky."

____________________________________________________________

"MERRY CHRISTMAS!!"

You startle awake with the sound of your friends shouting. Bucky's arms are still around you and his legs are tangled with yours, his chest vibrating with laughter.

It's a holiday miracle!

You get to witness Bucky laughing, really laughing like he used to. His eyes are closed, mouth wide with his pearly white teeth showing, his nose doing that signature scrunch along with the crinkle around his eyes. You feel your eyes start to water, vision becomes blurry, you're so happy to see him back. Bucky, your Bucky is smiling like he used to, so carefree and genuine.

Merry Christmas indeed.

You smile and quickly wipe the tears from your eyes before anyone notices you, and get up and wish your friends a Merry Christmas then go get ready for the day.

Immediately after you leave for the bathroom, Steve and Sam ambush Bucky asking if he'd finally confessed his love for you.

"Not this again. Drop it." Bucky's friends really know how to damper his mood.

"You wait around any longer and you're gonna lose her, Buck." Steve warns.

"I'm telling you she's not interested." Bucky replies.

"Yeah, right cause she's been single for two years. Two years, Buck. Not a single date in two years. That's not suspicious at all." Sam argues. "Do you know what that's like? Don't answer that, it was rhetorical. You know cause you've been single since you met her!"

Bucky chose to ignore Sam's point, afraid he might be right.

Since the moment he met you, Bucky recognized exactly the kind of girl you are. And as he's gotten to know you and become your friend, he's realized you are his dream girl. You are all he's ever wanted and more. It's been too long, he knows he missed his shot with you. You two are too good of friends to actually be more. Yes, he has wanted you all this time and now he's afraid that you only see him as a friend.

But...then again...

Facts are facts though, and Sam does have a point. What are the odds you've both been single all this time? Could it be that you feel the same way about him as he does about you?

Or were you just projecting your daddy issues onto him? Did you just want to 'fix' him?

Bucky has a lot of questions and a lot to think about. He wonders what his therapist would tell him. He knows Dr. Raynor would point out that you might be projecting but that wouldn't be a bad thing, it would just mean that Bucky means as much to you as your father.

Bucky had a lot to dissect through.

Bucky remembers that summer night in his room when the two of you were cuddling. You thought he was asleep when you couldn’t hold your tears any longer.

Bucky was disappearing right in front of your eyes. Reflecting on how it felt to lose your father and how he withered away to nothing in front of you.

Bucky may not be dying but it feels like he is.

Bucky felt you shaky breaths, heard your whimpers and sniffles. “Sweets. Are you-- What's going on?” He turns you over to face him, a soft caressing hand on your cheek.

You can’t look at him. It hurts so much. The Bucky you knew was fading away and you couldn’t do anything about it. His eyes didn't hold that sparkle anymore. “Jamie. Jamie, come back to me.”

Bucky dry swallows, he's never seen you like this. You're an emotional person but he's never seen you this affected. "I'm right here. What are you talking about? Did you have a nightmare or something?"

"No. This is the nightmare." Your sobs make you hiccup, Bucky hugs you to his chest. He holds you tightly until you calm down a bit.

"Sweets, you're scaring me."

You bury your face into his neck and hold on to him for dear life. “I’m gonna tell you something, but please don’t hate me for it.”

“You can tell me anything.”

“You need help, Bucky. Real help, there’s only so much I can do. Cuddles and Cocoa is not enough.” You choke on a sob, but continue on. “I don’t want you to keep fading away.”

“I’m not going anywhere." Oh, it dawns on him that your tears are for him, because of him. "I have an appointment with a therapist next week.”

The relief that washes over you is unexplainable. You know it’s not a quick fix but it’s a start. It’s hope and that’s all you need.

“I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to figure things out. I’m not going anywhere. I promise."

"I know. Can I go with you?"

"That'd be great. I'm actually terrified..."

"Of what?" you ask, still sniffling, gently running your fingers through his hair.

"That I'll never feel whole again." A tear slips from his eyes, his voice cracks.

Bucky's words shatter your heart into a million pieces. You know that feeling, you understand it well. It takes you a while to find your words so in the meantime you hold him.

"From my experience, in our lives we give pieces of our hearts to those we love. So when we lose them it feels just like you said, like we'll never be whole again. But I choose to see it this way: in your case, your grandpa moved on to another journey, to another life or whatever you want to believe in-- the point is he took pieces of love with him. Your grandpa took a bit of love from you, your grandma, your whole family."

"When I lost my dad...Bucky, I too felt like that. It took me a fucking long time to realize that the hole in my heart, the bit he took, it wasn't empty or incomplete. It's still there, it's a bit of his heart now in its place. My dad took a piece of my heart with him and left me a piece of his instead. So I can tell you, from experience, that I know it sucks and I hate that there's no way to fix it. That this feeling will sit with you until you deal with it. And sadly, that fucking line that time heals all wounds, I hate to say it but it's true."

_____________________________________________________________

1 Week later // New Years //

You and Bucky were drinking the last bottle of champagne and eating the remaining grapes. It was 2 am and everyone had already either passed out or gone to bed.

Naturally you and Bucky settled in by the fire pit on the deck at the back of the cabin. It wasn't that cold outside so you could sit comfortably by the fire with a blanket and be fine.

You two get to talking about your expectations for this year, both academically and personally. Bucky admits he's excited to graduate but nervous about his little sister Rebecca who will be graduating high school and then going to you guys' school in the fall. "I wanted to look out for her, bust her balls too."

"You can if you stay in the city."

"I think I might."

"This might sound corny or stupid, or both, but I think this is gonna be great year." You take his hand and entwine your fingers, never looking at him just staring off at the flames of the fire pit.

"It's not stupid or corny, I know what you mean." He squeezes your hand and you look up at him. He smiles down at you. "Beginnings...they're special." You hum in agreement and Bucky continues. "And speaking of special, I wanted to thank you. This year, well past year was by far my worst one, but looking back at it...it had it's nice moments too." With the way his eyes bore at you, you know he's actually referring to you. "I want to start off the year on a positive note, set the tone, you know."

"Thank you for letting me be there for you. This will be your year Bucky Barnes. You fucking deserve to be happy."

Bucky smiles at you. He smiles at you a little too long. You start to imagine the way he leans into you.

Your heart leaps to your throat as he gets close. His warm lips press to your forehead. The prickly sensation of his beard against your skin makes you giggle. "Your beard tickles."

He leans back and runs a hand down his chin. "Been thinking it might be time to shave it off."

"No!" You protest. "You can't shave it off. It completes your look."

"It completes my look?" he asked amused.

"Yeah, the big burly, long haired, bearded look. It's really sexy in a lumberjack kinda way."

Bucky had noticed you had never complimented him on his looks, not even before he gained 30 pounds. So the fact that you were complimenting him when he was at his 'worst' did wonders for his self esteem, in fact his face was burning red. "Thanks? I guess."

That night Bucky got an answer to one of his many questions regarding you: Did he even have a shot with you? Yes.

After finishing the bottle of champagne you head inside, he follows you, unsurprised when you head straight for his room. You're already in sweatpants and a sweater he recognizes as his. It was a gift from Rebecca, it read 'It's okay if you don't like me. Not everyone has good taste.'. It didn't fit anymore. He gave it to you when you stayed over at his apartment after getting locked out of yours. He didn't ask for it back but he also didn't think you'd keep it.

You settled in the left side of the bed, taking your time fluffing your pillow. Once you settled in, Bucky slipped into bed beside you. Before turning off the bedside table lamp, he turned to check on you. "You good? Comfy?"

With the comforter up to your neck you nodded your head. "Yep. Good night, Buck."

Bucky turned off the lamp and got comfortable on the bed. He felt you roll over on your side to face him and smiled when you pressed your face to his shoulder. He extended his arm and pulled you to his chest. "Good night, Sweets."

Bucky could barely keep his eyes closed, every single ruffle of the bed set him off. You turned your back to him, and he thought he might finally get some sleep, but then you grunted. "Cuddlebug, you're so far away." You reached a hand blindly to grab him and pull him to you.

Bucky grabs your hand and your fingers find their place in between his. He pulls you back to the center of the bed, molding his body to yours. "You keep rolling off, sweetheart." He murmurs at the back of your neck before pressing his lips there.

_______________________________________________________

A couple of days later you all head back to the city and settle back into your daily routines, back to school. The semester starts off with a bang and a lot of work. Weeks pass by so fast you barely have time to meet up with Bucky. He’s been pretty busy too, but he always makes time to text you and check in on you.

And even though he texts and calls, you miss him.

You feel off, like something is missing. When you go to bed and toss and turn you realize that what you're missing is Bucky. You miss sleeping with him, just being around him brightens up your day.

And then it happens. Your old lab partner Peter Parker asks you out on a date. It feels weird being asked out on a date. Your immediate response was to say no, but before you can answer he tells you to think about it and let him know. No pressure.

Just then you see a smiling Bucky approaching with to-go cups that you're sure are hot cocoa. Your reaction is a pure knee-jerk, it happens without conscious thought, you squeal with delight. “Bucky!!”

Peter Parker, still standing before you, gives a tiny wave with his hand, “See you around, Y/N.”

“Bye, Pete.”

Hours later, Peter texts you. Peter: I'm sorry about today. I didn’t know you were spoken for. My bad 🥴

You stare at the text for like an hour. That’s how Nat finds you, sitting in the living room staring at your phone.

“Y/n? You’ve got thinky face.”

You give her your phone instead of explaining. Nat takes a seat and takes your phone.

“I don’t get it.”

“Peter asked me out and I didn’t know what to say, then Bucky showed up and now he thinks I’m not interested. He thinks Bucky is my boyfriend.”

“Understandable.” Nat sighs and fails to muffle her laughs.

“Why on earth would he think that?”

“Jesus, I thought you were in denial but you really don't see it.”

“Nat, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Sweetie, come on." She gives you her signature smirk, "When Bucky is around you act like no one else exists. Don’t even get me started on the way you look at each other and your grossly cute cuddles and cocoa thing. You two act like a couple.”

“We do?"

"Yes! I cannot believe this...I'm gonna try something. I will ask you a series of questions, and you will answer rapid fire. Okay?"

"Okay but what does that have to do with anything?"

"Just answer the questions, trust the process. Okay, here we go. How long have you known Bucky?"

"Almost three years."

Nat keeps asking questions, varying topics, it's hard to find a pattern or what kind of information she's trying to pull out of you. About three minutes in she asks, "Do you want to date Peter?"

"No." You kind of already knew that.

She shits topics again to food and colors, and up and down. Then she asks, "You're in love with Bucky, aren't you?"

"Yes."

You gasp and Nat laughs so hard she tears up. "Don't say I never did anything for you."

You sit there and ponder what to do with this piece of information. Should you tell Bucky how you feel? Would that weird him out? Or would he feel the same way? It's safe to say you don't sleep well that night.

________________________________________________________

Three days later, Natasha comes home with the mail. She got a care package from home, full of goodies and Russian candies, pictures and letters from her family. Her sister sent her a vest she saw and thought Natasha would love it, it had a lot of pockets. "Oh, hey, here." She hands you an envelope, "almost forgot. You got a letter."

You take the envelope in your hands to examine, your eyes nearly pop out when you read the name of the sender.

James B. Barnes

You tear open the envelope and take out two handwritten papers.

My dearest, Y/N

Did you know people still write letters?

I just got one from my grandma. She sent me some pictures of my grandpa and Steve’s. I’ll share them with you someday soon.

The other day I was on the phone with my grandma and I was telling her about you. She really wants to meet you. Something she said got me thinking. 'All the what-ifs, you're missing out on what is.'

She meant for me to live in the moment and in the spirit of that, that’s why I’m sitting here, with this stupid pen in my hand, and damn I can’t believe you have me writing right now.

Here's a wild thought: Maybe we're missing out on the what-if...

I’ll start at the beginning. It'll hopefully make sense by the end of this letter.

From the moment I met you, I knew exactly the kind of woman you are. And in case you didn't already know that was Steve's poor attempt at setting us up, there was no pressing matter he had to tend to that day. When I got home he was waiting for me, already asking if I had asked you out on a date.

I'd just gotten out of a relationship and was not looking forward to getting my heart broken yet again. But then I met you...and that's it. I was sold.

I know you're probably confused at this point. What is this idiot saying?

I WANT TO DATE YOU!! is what I'm saying.

You might think then why didn't this idiot ask me out if we were being set up by Steve?

I didn't want you to be my rebound girl...which is stupid now that I think about it, cause I've been single since I met you… for almost three years I've avoided dating altogether because after only two hours of knowing you, I couldn't picture myself on a date with another girl that wasn't you.

So I figured I'd take my time to get to know you instead of just jumping to the deep end. You are so special and wonderful. There aren't enough words in the English language that can fully describe you.

You are incredible.

You are perfect.

I could not have even dreamt you up.

I'm so happy I got to know you and become your friend. Being your friend has brought my life a whole new perspective, you have shown me kindness, love and compassion. Everyday you continue to blow me away, you are honestly the strongest person I know. I admire you so much. I am thankful to have you in my life.

You’ve been everything I’ve needed, a friend, a shoulder to cry on, a hand to hold, but you’re also all I’ve ever wanted.

I’m taking a risk here writing you this letter— and no pressure, I cannot stress this enough. I would love to take you out on a date. We have an awesome friendship and I would understand and respect if that’s all you want this to be.

I thought since Valentine’s Day is a holiday based on love and friendship (and we’ve already got that part down) it’d be a good day to test out the waters.

I’d love to have more with you.

I don’t want to have any regrets, especially when it comes to you.

So if you‘d grant me the honor—nay, the privilege to take you out on a date,

again no pressure if you don’t. Meet me at the cafe this Valentine’s at 7pm.

Your Cuddlebug,

James

P.S. I really mean no pressure.

Between you and the therapy I've become a sap! You have no idea how long this letter originally was...but I'll tell you it was giving Rachel's letter to Ross a run for its money. Ha! Another reference I get to make because of you introducing me to that show.

I will stop writing now. :)

You are speechless.

This is the absolute last thing you expected. A handwritten letter from Bucky asking you out on a date.

There’s no doubt you want him too.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bucky Barnes does not get to be the only one to get cheesy and romantic over Valentine’s Day. You write down a response to hand deliver when you meet him at the cafe.

Natasha helped you out picking out a dress and getting ready for your date.

Walking into the cafe you realize that for the first time you're actually nervous about meeting up with Bucky, which is stupid because you already know that he wants to date you. You two have nothing to be nervous about. You've basically been on tons of dates already. The girl working the cash register notices you waiting, looking around, looking for someone. "Excuse me, are you Y/N?"

"Yep, that'd be me. I'm meeting someone here."

"Eeep! You're blue eyes' hot date!" She smiles and sighs, "He's waiting for you at the reading nook."

The reading nook! The very same were you shared your first cuddles and cocoa.

You turn around and go back to the counter and ask the girl for two hot cocoas.

You walk back to the reading nook with one hot chocolate in each hand, your clutch tucked beneath your arm. You almost drop everything when Bucky comes into view.

There he is. Bucky in a navy blue suit, black dress shirt. You do a double take because, yes he did, Bucky shaved his beard. Yet he still looks as handsome as ever, if anything it makes his eyes pop even more. And the smile that takes over his face when he sees you is absolut magic, it makes you want to melt.

"I take it you’re here cause you read my letter." Bucky says as you place the cups of cocoa on the table, along with your clutch.

"I did." You hug him. "I brought my reply." When you pull away from the hug you look up at him and smile, he smiles back. You can't hold on any longer, you pull his face down and quickly press your lips to his. It was a quick peck that lasted about a second but it left Bucky dizzy.

Bucky arranged for food to be brought to your table, a couple of Montecristos and other goodies like bonbons, macarons and those apples turnovers you love. As soon as you get to talking the nerves wear off and it feels like any other time you’ve hung out with Bucky. The only difference is that he holds your hand and tells you how beautiful you look. You live for that adorable way he looks at you while dropping kisses to the back of your hand.

By the end of the night he confesses he wished he would’ve asked you out sooner.

He walks you back to your apartment and you invite him in, he seems surprised. "Oh, did you seriously think we'd have our first date and not have cuddles? It's us, cuddles are our thing."

"I like the sound of that."

[cascowriteswords]

Number 2 early morning kiss- but plot twist, they’re friends and have never kissed before!

Lexa's phone alarm going off feels like nails being hammered into Clarke's skull. Startling awake, she winces and grabs the nearest pillow to clamp it down over her face and cover her ears, groaning. She feels Lexa's weight shift as she leans to turn it off and then sits up in bed. 

"Good morning Clarke," she says, voice thick and scratchy with sleep. There’s more movement from her side of the bed and Clarke can picture her stretching, the loose tee she slept in hanging off one of her shoulders as her hands raise towards the ceiling. 

She can picture it but she can’t see it because she’s not taking the pillow off of her head even if she can barely breathe. She knows neither of them remembered to shut the blinds last night and just the thought of the early morning sun in her eyes makes her headache flare with anticipatory pain. She grumbles a good morning with a mouth full of cotton that is for all intents and purposes unintelligible, but Lexa somehow understands. 

“Up and at 'em, champ,” she says. The bed dips one final time and then her weight is gone from it entirely. Clarke feels the cold seep into her spot right away and groans again. “I told you not to have that last drink. You knew we needed to get up early this morning.”

Clarke doesn’t remember much from last night if she’s being honest. She remembers meeting Lexa at her apartment so they could carpool over to the bar where their coworker was having a little shindig for her 40th birthday. She remembers conning Finn into buying them drinks by batting her eyelashes leaning just a little bit into his personal space while they chatted because it isn’t her fault if the guy won’t take no for an answer and if she could use that to her advantage she was absolutely going to. She remembers watching some girl from accounting flirting unsuccessfully with Lexa and getting annoyed when she crashed their game of pool. And then she remembers getting back to Lexa’s place later that night in foggy bits and pieces - Lexa failing to convince her to brush her teeth, rummaging through her drawers to find something to sleep in, the lights turning out just as her head hit the pillow. 

She doesn’t remember Lexa telling her not to have another drink, but it does sound like something she would say. She’s always been the responsible friend between the two of them. "I can't,” she mumbles into the pillow. “Just leave me.” Then, in an attempt to shift the blame, “Who has a birthday party on a Tuesday anyways?”

“Yes, blame the birthday girl for your hangover,” Lexa says. Her eye roll is practically audible, but Clarke doesn’t care. Seriously, don’t most people celebrate the weekend before or after? 

She can hear Lexa moving around the room but is caught off guard when the pillow is suddenly yanked out of her hands and away from her face. She squints at Lexa as she leans over her and tosses the pillow to the side, whines in protest when she prevents her from covering her eyes with her hands by pinning them down on either side of her head. “You’re being ridiculous,” Lexa tells her, shaking her head. She smiles crookedly and affectionately at Clarke’s sullen expression, eyes stubbornly closing again as Lexa appraises her. “The sales department is expecting us to present to them in less than an hour. We need to get a move on.”

“That means I have at least 20 minutes before I need to get out of bed,” Clarke tells her indignantly. 

“You would if you didn’t reek of alcohol like it’s coming out of your pores,” Lexa says. “You need to shower.”

“Are you saying I smell?” 

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“Rude,” Clarke mutters under her breath, still stubbornly refusing to open her eyes. “I feel like I’m literally dying and you decide to comment on my body odor.”

“That’s what friends are for,” Lexa laughs. She leans forward and presses a kiss to Clarke’s forehead. It’s a new development, that kind of open, physical affection from Lexa, but Clarke’s pretty sure that enough of those could get rid of her headache entirely. “Come on. I’m going to go get some coffee started, and I want to hear the water running within 5 minutes at the latest.”

Two things then happen simultaneously that take both of them by surprise; Clarke actually complies and starts to sit up, while Lexa is just about to kiss her cheek in parting before she gets up from the bed to start the coffee as promised. If Clarke would just open her damn eyes the collision could have been avoided, but she won’t, so Lexa’s lips end up landing on hers instead of on her cheek as she’d intended. 

That gets Clarke to open her eyes immediately. It’s brief contact that can barely be called a kiss, Lexa’s lips only just brushing hers before she realizes what’s happening and jerks away. Clarke freezes, dazed, headache miraculously forgotten while all she can feel is her lips tingling and her heart puttering off beat in her chest. 

She watches as a blush blooms across Lexa’s cheeks and her eyes go wide. “Clarke - shit, I’m sorry,” she says. “I didn’t mean to - I was just -” she stammers. Her eyes jump wildly around Clarke’s face as she tries to read her, which is likely difficult because Clarke is just staring at her dumbly, still entranced by the buzzing of her lips from such fleeting contact, transfixed by the way Lexa’s eyes have gone dark despite the way she instantly tries to take the kiss back. “I didn’t mean to,” she settles on after a few seconds. “I’m sorry.”

Clarke swallows, tongue darting out to wet her lips. It feels like a physical effort to form any sort of thought in this state, and being kissed by Lexa has only scrambled her brain further. But the last thing she wants is Lexa looking like that, stricken and mortified. Not when she’s been daydreaming about kissing her for essentially as long as they’ve known each other. She’s anything but upset about it.

“Lexa,” she says, snagging her friend’s hand just before she’s about to get up from the bed and possibly run from the room by the looks of it. There’s probably a more elegant way to do this - there definitely is - but she only has one thought on her mind right now. She’d take the initiative herself but she wants to leave Lexa an out if she wants it, as much as she hopes she doesn't. “Kiss me again. I wasn’t ready.”

Lexa hadn’t been ready the first time either, that much quickly becomes clear. She hesitates for only the few seconds it takes her to process what Clarke just said, then surges forward with the kind of self-assured confidence Clarke has always imagined she would have. Their mouths fit together like they were always meant to do so as she reaches up to cradle Lexa’s face in her hands and one of Lexa’s hands settles against her ribcage. She is soft and warm and so much more than Clarke could have ever possibly dreamed she would be. A warmth like spring flowers unfurling their petals in the morning sun blooms in her chest and stomach while a shiver travels pleasantly down her spine. 

It’s only when she feels Lexa’s mouth open against hers, hot breath fanning deliciously against her lips, that she remembers drunkenly fighting against brushing her teeth the night before. And god does she want to feel Lexa’s tongue in her mouth but she can only imagine how horrible her morning breath must be right now. 

With her hands still on Lexa’s face she pulls away, thumbs brushing over high cheekbones idly as she revels over how wrecked Lexa looks, lips wet and glistening and hanging partly open as she catches her breath. She looks exceptionally kissable. “Fuck, I really want to keep doing that,” she says. “But I also really need to brush my teeth first.”

“You do,” Lexa agrees cheekily. Clarke pinches her side in retaliation, forcing a giggling Lexa up and off of the bed to escape her wrath. She stands just out of arm’s reach, smirking at Clarke’s miffed expression. “But for the record, I really want to keep doing that, too. Why haven’t we done that before?”

“Because you friendzoned me!” Clarke exclaims incredulously. “I asked you out on like my fifth day in the office and you invited everyone else to come with us.”

“I - what?” Lexa asks. “I didn’t know you were asking me out. I thought it was just because I was the only other person in the department.”

Clarke shakes her head, incredulous. “I love you and you’re brilliant, but sometimes you are really dumb.”

Lexa accepts that. She glances at her watch and then at Clarke, looking torn. “Please go shower and brush your teeth. I’m going to actually go make coffee now. And then when you come out, fully dressed and ready to go to work, I’m going to ask you out on a date tonight. A real one, not a friend-date. Because I’d like to continue the whole kissing thing, if you would.”

Clarke definitely would. She showers, brushes her teeth, and gets dressed quickly enough to leave them some time to resume the kissing thing before they have to drive in. 

[mydevilofhellskitchen]

when you sleep

one shot because our matty is coming back!!! in like 2 years but i’ll wait for as long as is needed for my boy <3

cw: fluffy, matt after patrol ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

you couldn’t ever sleep whilst he was out. no matter what calming routine you tried to execute, making camomile tea and watching your favourite tv show, it never worked. you’d still be left, tossing and turning into the early hours until he came back.

tonight was especially bad, being hit with hot and cold flushes, your anxiety fought back any hint of sleep. nights like these you needed him, to calm you down. sitting up, panting for breath out of shear nerves and heat, you surrendered. picking up the half read book on your night stand, you distracted yourself in its pages.

you were so groggy and entranced by your chapter, you failed to notice matts light knock on the window. shoot, you had shut them all during one of your many cold flushes. jumping up erratically, you skipped to the window to let him in. he slipped in, gliding with ease into the open window via the fire scape. his red suit was illuminated by street lights, but showed no hint of harm. you audibly sighed with relief he was not coming back hurt.

‘hey baby’ he smiled, pulling off the mask. he had that devilish grin on his face, the one that said he knew. he could smell your anxiety, your futile attempts at sleep. he could tell you were waiting for him. ‘mattyyyy’ you groaned, letting your head fall into his chest ‘i can’t sleep’. looking up at him, his suit covered hand grabbed your face and pouted at you. ‘poor baby’ he shushed your sleep deprived whines ‘get into bed, i’ll get you some water then we can go to sleep, yeah?’ he smiled, already walking to the kitchen. ‘thank you’ you muttered quietly, falling into the bed.

minutes later, after getting out of his suit and sifting for clean pyjamas, matt returned. only to find you already asleep, immediately calmed by only his presence.

note: thank you all for the love!! i did not expect this all, but it’s appreciated sm <3

[ridiculously-over-obsessed]

I will not lie this prompt confused the fuck out of me, so if this isn’t right I’m sorry skldjdklfdfgd

Part One: Day 17 - Personal Failure

Also on AO3!!!

DAY TWENTY NINE: 2 FACED INNER TURMOIL

Aubrey had been surprised to say the least to find Beca on her sofa when she got home from law school. She’d been even more surprised to see Chloe with her arm bandaged after not coming home last night (that was not too much of an odd occurrence, Chloe sporadically hooked up with her on/off boyfriend Tom without telling her first) and a box of Beca’s belongings in her hands that she was carrying into the spare room.

It had taken a great deal of self control for her not to reem Beca out for getting Chloe hurt, but she had managed it, helped in no small part by how genuinely guilty and remorseful Beca looked.

“We’ll get you through this Beca.” Aubrey had promised her as the situation had been explained, squeezing Beca’s hand tight in hers, “You can beat this.”

Aubrey had helped Dr Mitchell clear out Beca’s dorm room for the move while Chloe had stayed with Beca, helping soothe her through the beginning of her withdrawal symptoms. They had gone through Beca’s belongings with meticulous precision to make sure that no small bags of cocaine were being brought along with them that would Beca’s recovery even harder. They had found seventeen different bags in the end, Aubrey feeling no small amount of guilt as she flushed them that she hadn’t seen Beca’s problem before it had gotten this bad.

 “I’m sorry...” Beca mumbled as Aubrey had brought her a cup of tea that night, settling next to her bed in the armchair they had brought through. 

It had been agreed that either Chloe or Aubrey was going to be with Beca at all times during the first few weeks of withdrawal, just in case there was an emergency and Aubrey was taking the first shift, Chloe exhausted from her own ordeal.

“I really didn’t mean to get Chloe hurt, I never thought he’d-”

“Stop.” Aubrey shook her head, “You don’t need to apologise to me Beca, or explain yourself. You just need to commit to getting sober and let us help you.”

“What if I’m not strong enough?” Beca whispered, eyes falling to the tea gripped tightly in her shaky hands as tears welled, “What- what if I can’t do this, if I just disappoint you and fail you and-”

“Hey...” Aubrey frowned softly, taking one of Beca’s hands in hers again, “Don’t get yourself down before you’ve even started Beca. You are strong enough, and even if you’re not, you have me, and Chloe, and your dad, the rest of the Bellas even... we’ve got you Beca.”

“Thanks.” Beca sniffed, lifting her eyes for just a moment, “I know this is a lot to ask you guys, I... it just means a lot Bree.”

“You’re family Beca.” Aubrey smiled warmly, “Now c’mon. Try and get some sleep. It’s going to be a long few weeks.”

-----

It was indeed a very long few weeks. Beca had been really sick at first, shivering and throwing up for almost a solid forty eight hours. Chloe had been by her side through most of that, brushing her hair from her face, soothing her gently as Beca wept through it. She’d been uncomfortable the entire time, never able to get comfortable, so exhausted from the stress it had put on her body but unable to sleep thanks to the physical symptoms of her early withdrawal. 

By the fourth day, Beca was agitated and anxious, tossing and turning as she tried in vain to soothe herself.

“Please Chlo...” Beca begged her as Chloe pressed a cold flannel to her head again, “Just- just get me a little bit, just to take the edge off... I just need a little to get me through this and then never again...”

“I can’t...” Chloe shook her head, “Becs I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. You’re doing so well, this will pass and you’ll feel so much better.”

“No.” Beca shook her head bitterly, “No I won’t... Chloe please just do this for me...”

“I’m sorry.” There were tears in Chloe’s eyes as she shook her head again.

“Then just get out!” Beca snapped, Chloe flinching slightly as she snatched herself away from her attempts to soothe her, “Seriously if you’re not going to help, then just fuck off!”

Chloe had done just that, knowing that it was better to leave Beca alone when she asked then to stay (the glass that had been thrown at Aubrey’s head has solidified that). Her insides were in knots as she did, trying to reassure herself that she was doing the right thing by not getting Beca anything to take the edge off. Beca seemed so distressed and so ill... maybe she was right, maybe a little wouldn’t hurt her recovery...

“No.” Aubrey had only needed to see the look on Chloe’s face as she walked into the living room to know what she was thinking about, “It’ll just make everything worse, she’ll have to start all over again Chloe.” 

“I know.” Chloe sighed heavily as she dropped onto the couch next to Aubrey, sniffing softly as she wrapped an arm around her shoulders, “I know Bree, I just... I hate seeing her like this.”

“Me too.” Aubrey reassured her, rubbing her arm with her hand, “But it won’t be like this forever Chloe, we’ll get her through the worst of her withdrawal and then she’ll be so much better.”

Which was what happened, physically anyway. Beca stopped throwing up, stopped sweating and shaking, but as she did she withdrew within herself. Chloe hated that even more than the physical symptoms, never knowing what was going on in Beca’s head as she curled into a tight ball under the covers. 

If she had know what was going on in Beca’s head she’d have been even more worried. Beca was at war with herself, feeling like her addiction had split her into two different people; the Beca who desperately wanted to get sober, and the Beca who wanted her to go out and get another fix so she could back on her feet.

“You know you will eventually... you’ll fail them like you always do, they know your weak...”

Beca squeezed her eyes tightly shut, fisting the sheets in her hand as her sick self berated her again. She hated this. The voice was right, she was weak, she couldn’t do this... sooner or later she was going to fuck everything up like she always did.

“You can’t let Chloe down again... she won’t forgive you next time...”

God... Chloe had been doing so much for her, so had Aubrey, how could she mess things up after they’d tried so hard? They didn’t have to help her, especially not after all the trouble she’d made for Chloe, and yet they had and now... now she was going to mess it all up and they were going to hate her, and they’d leave her...

“You know what would help you relax a bit? C’mon... just a little bit to ease you through this stress...”

Beca let out a soft whimper as she burrowed further down under her sheets. This was all such a mess... she’d made such a fucking mess of everything. Why was she still fighting when she was going to mess everything up? No matter what happened, Beca was going to lose everything somewhere down the line. She always did, she would always end up alone... so what was the damn point?

Beca just wanted this to stop before she failed all of them.

[sirisuorionblack]

The doctor (part 3)

Cedric Diggory x Reader

Summary - When a 25-year-old single father Cedric Diggory was woken up by his daughter to get shots he knew something was going to happen but not in the slightest bit did he know he was going to find new love. (Muggle AU)

Warnings - none

A/N Ahhh I am soooo sorry! I'm updating this is series after ages because my interest shifted from Cedric but its back! So have these! Sorry once again!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You were indeed anxious for what might be the result of the hearing and that alone made it difficult for you to sleep that night. After tossing around in the bed trying to find a comfortable spot for you to fall asleep, you gave up the attempt and made a good decision in opening the psychology textbook that you have read over and over again for years.

Your eyes were blankly staring at the words that made no sense in your mind, the thoughts of the hearing leaving no space for it. You knew how much it meant to Charlotte and Cedric and you could only hope for Cedric to get his daughter’s custody.

It was wonderful seeing Cedric with his little girl. You watched as he held her in his arms, looking at her as though he would bring the stars down for her. You had also seen her mother in a situation that made you simply despise her. How could she leave such an angel in the care of a man who loved her so dearly and hope for them to be a family? And then fight for custody of the very daughter she left after years? It would always bewilder you.

Charlotte was indeed such an angel, and you could see how much she adored you that immediately felt a surge of protectiveness washing over you when you were with her.

You didn’t know when sleep had overtaken you but the next thing you remember was someone shaking your shoulder.

You blinked your eyes to clear the sleep out of them and the first thing you saw was Cedric’s sparking grey eyes, smilingly in hurry although never failing to captivate you. He stopped fretting for a moment before shaking his head and whispered, “I have to leave now. Is it alright for you to take care of Charlotte today, right?” 

“You're leaving already?” You checked the time on your phone and it was 4 in the morning. 

“Yeah, you will be able to be alone with her, right?” Cedric asked, concerned. 

You nodded, “Yep,” you managed to stand up straight and followed him outside your room. Cedric grabbed a cereal bar from the kitchen counter on his way to this door. 

Before leaving he turned around, looking at you unsure, “If you don’t mind can you be in her room? There is a couch in the room. I'm sorry but she is afraid to-”

”Cedric,” you chuckled, “I will be with her, don’t worry. She's in safe hands,” 

He breathed of relief and looked at you for a second standing there awkwardly. You took a deep breath and pulled him in for a quick hug, not providing Cedric enough time to sink in the comfort of your arms, and think of dropping all his plans. 

“Your gonna rock it, I promise,” You smiled at him and patted his arm. Cedric looked relieved when he stepped out of the door and took a deep breath. He dreaded the day. 

You sighed and closed the door after him. Dragging your feet to the kitchen, you gulped down a glass of water. It was all a mess beyond any ability of comprehension in the sleepy state of your mind. Blindly complying with what was told, you left to Charlotte's room, silently. 

Smiling at the elegantly placed pillow and blanket on the couch, you glanced at a fast asleep Charlotte, and allowed the sleep to take over you once again.

"(Y/N)?" For the second that day, you had shot up in alarm, only to recognise a similar pair of shining grey eyes and relax.

“Charlotte, what’s wrong?” You sat up and asked with a hoarse voice. She whimpered and looked at her hands. You noticed how her breathing rate quickened and her bottom lip wobbled and you didn’t need to be a detective to know what had happened.

“Come here, honey,” You opened you arms as an invitation for her to climb onto your lap which she did without an ounce of hesitation.

“Its alright, darling, I’m right her with you,” you said and patted her back. You rocked the two of you slightly and tried to calm her down.

“I love you,” you heard her whisper and felt your breath get caught in your lungs. You blinked twice and slowly let out a breathy chuckle.

“What did you say? Charlotte? Darling? You asleep, already?” you said but received no response in return.

You sighed and mumbled an “I love you too,” back and leaned against the couch. Rubbing circles in the small of her back and you were certain you would not be able to sleep any longer.

Charlotte had laid in your arms till noon and prevented you from doing almost anything. Unable to control you’re bladder anymore, you laid her on the bed and quickly left to the restroom.

When you returned to the bedroom after brushing your teeth, you were thankful to see Charlotte stirring, “Good morning, love,” You greeted warmly and grinned. Crawling onto the bed, you sat next to her and leaned against the headboard.

“Good morning,” She threw an arm over your lap and rolled over towards you, her eyes still closed. You chuckled and ran your finger through her curls.

“Where is daddy?” she asked and pulled away to look at you in the eyes.

You sighed and thought of reason to tell her, not having the energy to tell her he was out in a court fighting for her with her mother. You resorted to a simpler and easier answer, “Your daddy is out, darling, he will be back soon,”

“When will he be back?”

“I don’t know, honey. He will call us when he leaves,” you said, massaging her scalp. She hummed and pouted, “Why didn’t papa tell me he was going out?”

You took a minute to wonder why she called her father with different names at different times without any reason. You blinked and shook your head, “It was – uh – a sudden plan, darling! That’s why he couldn’t tell you because you were fast asleep when he decided it,”

“When did papa tell you?” She asked, her big eyes staring at you, hopefully, like you had answers to every question of hers; perhaps, it was trust. It wrenched your heart as you provided false answers to her question but she didn’t need to know of them just yet.

“Early in the morning. I think about 4 when my little girl was fast asleep, snoring,” You tickled her sides and watched proudly as she giggled but didn’t pull away rather moved closer to you and tugged at your hands.

“Alright, alright,” You took her into your arms and stood up from the bed, “You’re going to go brush now and I’m going to try to make you some-”

“Pancakes!” She yelled, raising her hand in the air.

You chuckled, “Pancakes, is it, then!” you let her down and pushed her gently to the bathroom, “Now, go brush,”

She stood at the entrance of the bathroom, and turned to glare at you with her hands on her hips, “Papa used to brush me,”

You narrowed your eyes at her playfully, and copied her position, “I live with you for over a week, darling. Now, go brush,”

“I can’t reach!” She whined, stomping her foot.

“Your just like your father, aren’t you?” You shook your head and took her in your arms again and placed her on your hips.

“What?” she scrunched her eyebrows, adorably.

“Both of you get what you want,” you said, pinching the tip of her nose, lightly. She giggled and buried her head in your shoulder.

Hours passed and Charlotte spent the time without much thoughts of her father rather warmed up to you in the comfort of your couch, happily watching Disney movies with you. Then, came your much awaited ring. You darted to your phone and picked up immediately, Charlotte bounding after you and jumping up and down the couch as you answered the call.

“Hello?”

“The hearing is finished. I’m coming home, now,”

“How did it go?”

“I’ll tell you everything when I get there,”

“Alright. Oh, wait, wait, don’t cut the call, Charlotte wants to speak to you,”

“Yep,”

“Daddy!”

“Hey darling. Are you enjoying your day, puppy?”

“Yes, papa! (Y/N) is soo fun! When you come back can you get me some chocolates, papa? You told me you’d get them,”

“Of course, my love!”

“Love you, papa!”

“Love you too, darling!”

“Papa is coming home with chocolates!” She jumped into your arms. You chuckled and spun around with her secured in your clutch.

Within fifteen minutes of her excitement, the door bell rang and Charlotte was more than happy to receive her father. Opening the door for her, you anxiously leaned to look at Cedric, worried of the result of the hearing.

You were relived to see him catch his daughter in his arms and pepper her face with kisses, a wide grin on his face, “I love you, darling!”

“I love you too, daddy!” Her little arms were wrapped tightly around his neck and her head was buried into the crook of his neck when he stepped into the home.

The beautiful grin on his handsome face brought tingles to your stomach and you felt your heart swell.

‘We won,’ he mouthed, tears stinging his eyes. The years of struggle finally paid off and he had his daughter t himself. He no more had to fight to be her father. He no more had to leave her alone to that damned hearing every other time.

You placed a hand over your mouth and nodded asking for a reconfirmation. A  rapid nod in response and both of you resisted the urge from just pulling the other into a tight, warm hug.

“Puppy?” Cedric leaned back to look at charlotte in the eyes. The pad of his thumb rubbed over her cheek as he kissed her forehead, “You’re my little girl, darling,”

Charlotte giggled although he could see the confusion in her eyes. Cedric ruffled her hair, “We are going out tonight,”

“Where, papa?!” Charlotte asked, smiling widely making his heart swell with love and pride.

Cedric kissed her cheek, “To the restaurant down the street,”

“Can we get shawarmas!?” She asked, excitement bubbling in her eyes.

“Anything you want, my love!” Cedric said and looked back at you, “Get ready, alright? We will leave within half an hour,”

“Me too?” you asked, taken aback.

“Yes, of course,”

“Uh, alright,” You fiddled with your fingers, nervously and nodded your head, hesitant, “Sure,”

The sun was already setting by the time you left the home, dressed casually. Cedric and you stood on either side of Charlotte, who held your hands tightly and spoke as she pleased.

To the onlookers the three of you would have looked like a little happy family with a loving father, a caring mother and their little princess. They would have noticed him looking at you with much admiration in his eyes and watch your eyes skim over his handsome features when he wasn’t looking. They would have seen love weaving the three of you into a tightly knit family wrapped in warmth and protected against everything.

[leon-scott-kennedy]

Distrail

Chreon, Rated-T

Read on Ao3

For a price, anyone could check into a seedy motel, even three people covered in blood, guts, and grime, no questions asked, especially with the ashes of Raccoon City still cooling 100 miles away. So the horizon still held a faint glow of destruction when Leon and Claire stumbled, barely conscious, through the front door of the Tadpole motel at 2 PM October 1st, using each other as support and Sherry clinging to Leon’s back like a koala if a koala drooled and snored.

Two other motels along the highway turned the odd couple away, rumours already flying about Raccoon City, zombies, and a nuclear cover-up. But at the right price, triple the going rate, Claire managed to convince the manager to let them bunk down, courtesy of Leon’s stressed credit card.

The fact Leon’s credit card worked, or that he even still had his credit card, was a miracle. His wallet hadn’t exactly been a priority, and honestly, they could sleep in a cockroach-infested basement, and Leon would be happy because they were dead on their feet after hiking on foot what Leon estimated to be a good 30 miles of rough terrain to get to the nearest town. The sun barely peeked over the horizon when the sky behind them exploded.

Raccoon City was gone. The people Leon had sworn to defend were gone. Sherry and Claire were all he managed to protect, and he’d be damned if he failed now.

The motel room wasn’t terrible; two double beds, a small tube TV, and a leaky faucet. It wasn’t good, but it wasn’t something out of a horrible nightmare. They’d left that behind them.

“I’m glad we don’t have a blacklight,” Claire joked, but her tone fell flat.

Leon nudged the bed farthest from the door suspiciously with his boot, dragged back the yellow duvet, and inspected the mattress before he lay Sherry down and tucked her in. He even let Claire shower first, insisted, while he watched Sherry sleep, tossing and turning and whimpering from reliving the horrors in her dreams until Claire emerged from the bathroom, hair still damp, and crawled into bed beside Sherry.

By the time Leon scrubbed his skin raw, the water was cold, and Claire had passed out cold with Sherry cuddled up beside her, little hand tangled in the front of Claire’s dirty tank top like a lifeline. Leon passed out face first on the other bed. He couldn’t even muster the energy to get under the covers.

Movement woke Leon. He jolted awake, reaching for his gun on the bedside table, only to find Claire, fully dressed, perched on the end of his bed and tugging one of her boots. She smiled sadly at the gun levelled at her head.

Leon lowered Matilda, gasping for air. His arm fell limply to his side. “Claire?”

“Hey.” Claire pulled on her second boot. “Sorry.”

Leon blinked at the sleep crusting his eyes. “What... what are you doing?”

Claire sighed and set her foot back down solidly on the ground, hands grasping her thighs. “I need to find Chris. I need... I need to know he’s okay.”

“Now?” Leon glanced at the clock. The bright red numbers read 7:46. The setting sun outside glowed faintly behind the curtains.

“If you ever need me...”

“Forget me. What about Sherry?” Leon snapped, somewhat mollified when Claire winced.

“I know you’ll take good care of her.” Claire’s attention briefly snapped to the sleeping 12-year-old that had survived literal hell. “Leon... if I didn’t have to.”

“Yeah. Yeah, whatever,” Leon scoffed, then rolled over. His heart thundered in his chest. He heard Claire briefly wake up Sherry to say goodbye, promising they’d be in touch, that if Sherry ever needed her, all she needed to do was call.

The door creaked open. Leon clenched his eyes shut, willing down the panic swelling in his chest until it ached. This was it. He was all Sherry had left. They were on their own.

“Take care of our girl for me.” Claire’s voice was barely a whisper.

Leon’s hands trembled, buried in the sheets and pillows, he struggled to suck down air, and his hearing fuzzed. Claire was gone.

For hours, Leon faded in and out of consciousness, barely able to keep the crush of dread at bay. Finally, at some point around 3 AM, he gave up all pretense to sleep and kept a vigilant guard. He jumped at a car alarm, tensed at the slam of a door, and clenched Matilda tightly when soft footfalls passed their door. Eventually, Sherry climbed into his bed to watch early morning cartoons with him.

“Is Claire going to be okay?” Sherry asked softly. She hugged Leon’s arm, cuddling into his side like he used to with his grandma.

“Yeah. Don’t worry about her,” Leon said. He slumped to the side, gently resting his head on top of Sherry’s. “She’ll be fine, kiddo.”

When the sun rose, Leon and Sherry trekked down to the front office to extend their stay another night, then hiked into town searching for clothes and sustenance. Being out in public, surrounded by people, set both Leon and Sherry on edge. They jumped at the slightest sound, and Sherry refused to release Leon’s hand for anything less than going to the bathroom, and even then, he had to stand guard outside the stall. Thank god he had pissed before they left the motel because Sherry was clinging to the back of his jacket while he tried seemed ridiculous.

Their shopping trip was quick. They grabbed what they could, Sherry setting a brisk pace through the little thrift store they found, dragging Leon from rack to rack. They scrounged up a few changes of clothes, socks, underwear, which Leon was a little uncertain of, a jacket that fits over his side holster since he had a license to carry, and a backpack that they filled with snacks and a deck of cards from a little corner store. It turns out Leon’s palette was similar to a twelve-year-old.

The tenuous credit limit finally crapped out on Leon when he tried to buy a six-pack at a shady liquor store on the way back to the motel.

“No job. No money. Just great,” Leon sighed.

For the rest of the day, they holed up in their room munching on junk food, watching terrible daytime TV, and playing Go Fish until Leon made the brilliant decision to teach Sherry how to play poker, and she fleeced him for all the Cheetos.

Leon had no plan beyond survive, and he hadn’t even planned for that. His body ached from being tossed by mutated monsters and shot. His wrapped shoulder twinged.

“Shit,” Leon cursed and clutched his wound. They needed help. He needed help. Taking care of a kid without any resources would be impossible; never mind, he’d never taken care of a person in his life. He had no siblings, no parents. His grandma died when he was nine.

Leon smiled at Sherry in reassurance when she questioned him. This little girl couldn’t be another statistic of the system. He could fix that. He would fix that.

Covered in orange Cheeto dust, Sherry crashed around 8 in the evening. The glow of the sun behind the curtain reminded Leon of the mushroom cloud that had enveloped the sky 36 hours ago. Leon’s stomach twisted in knots. Every creak, every thump, every squeaky break, Leon tensed, waiting for something to crash through the door and disrupt the precarious peace.

Leon hunkered down on his bed, the one closest to the door and any potential threat that came for them, and prepared for another sleepless night on edge.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Around one in the morning, his eyes beginning to droop, Leon nearly fell off the bed in his mad scramble for his gun when someone knocked heavily on the door. Checking his clip, Leon cautiously crept to the door, motioning for now very awake Sherry to stay out of sight.

“Who is it,” Leon called.

“Hi. Look, I’m sorry to bother you. My name is Chris Redfield. I’m looking for my sister Claire.”

Leon blinked and glanced back at Sherry, whose head had popped out of the blanket at the sound of Claire’s name. Then, double-checking he had bolted the chain, Leon opened the door a crack to peek out.

A man a little taller than Leon stood under the flickering light outside the door, his hair cut short and a 5 o’clock shadow. Chris Redfield, decorated member of the Racoon City Stars Division. Leon recognized him from the old photo Claire had shown him, but also the records he’d run across during his frantic hunt through the Police Department.

“Chris?” Leon said, astonished it was actually him. He slammed the door, unbolted the chain, and flung the door open again. “What the- Claire’s looking for you. What are you doing here?”

Chris, who eyed the gun uncertainly, brightened at the mention of his sister. “Is she here? The manager at the front recognized her. Said she was here with some guy and a kid.” Chris glanced past Leon into the room to Sherry curled up in the other bed peering out with curious fear from under the blankets.

Leon shook his head, eyes scanning the parking lot. “She’s not here. She left this morning to find you.”

“Fuck.” Chris winced and glanced at Sherry again. “Shit, sorry.”

Sherry giggled into her hands, and Leon rolled his eyes. “I think she’s dealt with worse.” Like the apocalypse.

“But she’s okay. She’s alive?” Chris asked.

“Who? Claire? Yeah. Yeah, she’s fine. Saved my ass more than a few times.” Leon smiled wistfully and then frowned. So Claire had left, and now, here, her brother was trying to track her down. It must be nice to have someone that gave a damn about you.

“Oh, thank god.” Then, finally, all the tension and stiffness in Chris’ posture melted. “I got her message, and...”

Leon scanned the dark parking lot again for any sign of life, then gestured into the motel room. “You should come in.”

“No.” Chris waved off the invitation. “No, I need to find her.” But the fatigue in his voice threatened to topple him, and that would definitely fell Leon if he tried to catch him.

“Dude, you’re dead on your feet,” Leon said. “It’s the middle of the night. Crash for a few hours.”

“Yeah!” Sherry chimed in, bouncing on her bed. “Stay!”

Chris shook his head. “I can’t.”

Leon pursed his lips. “Look, I don’t know you, man. But I do know that if you pass out behind the wheel and wrap yourself around a pole, you’re pretty damn useless to her.”

Chris opened his mouth to argue, and Leon sighed, tilting his head to the side, ready to give up when Chris snapped his mouth closed and cleared his throat. He studied Leon closely, scrutinizing him like he would a suspect, but Chris must have been satisfied with what he found - weakness, terror, immaturity - because he finally said, “just a few hours.” And the anxiety squeezing the life out of Leon eased, just a tiny bit. Enough that he could breathe.

Chris excused himself to run and grab his go-bag, and Leon cursed his stupidity because nothing was stopping Chris from running. That tightness immediately returned, but a few minutes later, another sharp knock sounded at the door.

Leon smiled tiredly and welcomed Chris into the room, relieved to have the company, someone who knew what they were doing; an adult. Leon grew up fast, but he’d never been an adult in his life. Racoon City was supposed to be a fresh start, and now, he was back to square one. Not even. He was in the basement of square one—the root cellar.

Leon finally caught a good look at Sherry with the lights on, still covered in orange dust, her fingers and cheeks stained. “Jesus. Did you eat the Cheetos or roll in them?”

Sherry laughed. “Leon taught me to play poker, and then I won all the cheezies,” she said to Chris, who grinned.

“Nice job.” Chris offered her a high-five, which she eagerly accepted. The hero worship was already forming.

“He gets a little wrinkle right here when he lies,” Sherry said, pointing a small finger between her eyebrows.

“Okay,” Leon said, scooping Sherry off the bed and carrying her off under one arm. “Let’s get you cleaned up and back in bed, munchkin.”

Cheeto dust proved a formidable adversary, but they managed. When they walked back into the room, Chris was standing exactly where they had left him, his bag still slung over his shoulder and his boots laced.

Getting Sherry tucked back into bed became a struggle now that the brand new company hyped her up; no hesitation whatsoever. She liked Chris. She even made Chris put her to bed, Leon faking offence at being disregarded for the new guy, but there was something about seeing a six-foot boulder of a man coax a tiny twelve-year-old back to sleep that made Leon’s chest ache. Especially when Chris told the story of how Claire was convinced that if she left fake teeth under her pillow, she could trick the tooth fairy into giving her more money. It never worked. The tooth fairy left chocolate coins instead. Fake money for a fake tooth.

Leon watched perched on the edge of the other bed, a little envious of Chris’ skill with kids. He double-checked the safety on his handgun, then the clip. Chris eyed Leon as he set his weapon back down on the bedside table, and Leon couldn’t muster the energy to be self-conscious about his paranoia.

Chris may be Claire’s sister and a fellow survivor of Raccoon City, but Leon didn’t actually know him. For all he knew, he was a traitor like Irons or Wesker. Maybe he wasn’t the man Claire believed him to be. What the hell had he been thinking? Inviting a stranger to stay with them?

With Sherry asleep again, Leon and Chris were left to settle in for the remainder of the night. For Chris, that meant shedding his bulky jacket and combat boots.

“It’s Leon, right?” Chris said. He stood awkwardly beside the bed, watching Leon click off the light and climb under the blankets, tucking himself up against the edge of the mattress as close as he possibly could without toppling off. “Claire mentioned you in one of her messages.”

Leon almost facepalmed. He hadn’t introduced himself. He really was doing everything backwards. “Yeah. That’s me. Leon S. Kennedy.” He curled up into a small ball.

“Jesus Christ.” Chris swiped his palm across his mouth. “You’re the new rookie.”

Leon chuckled humourlessly, his hands tightening into fists around the sheets pulled up to his neck. “Was a hell of a first day.”

Chris picked up real quick that Leon didn’t want to talk about it. So instead, he climbed into his side of the bed, the one closest to the door. The mattress dipped under his weight, and Leon tensed. Where else would Chris have slept? The floor? The last person Leon shared a bed with was his ex, who had seemingly saved his life. If she hadn’t broken up with him, if he hadn’t gotten drunk, if he hadn’t slept in hungover as hell, he would have arrived right in the middle of the initial panic, and who knows if he would have survived that. No one else in the department had.

What would it have been like? The screams, the moans, the pleas for help- the sounds still played on repeat in Leon’s head. Lieutenant Marvin Branagh, mouth agape, stumbling towards him with his hands out. Leon had put two bullets between his eyes.

The first indications of a panic attack slammed into Leon. Abruptly, his throat closed. He couldn’t breathe, his vision slid out of focus, and his chest compressed. Like someone reached into his chest and squeezed his heart in a vice. His entire body shook.

Suddenly, a warm voice murmured in his ear, the soothing tone talking him down, calming him. Leon wasn’t alone. He wasn’t trapped in the police station battling endless waves of the undead, the people of Raccoon City he’d taken an oath to serve and protect.

“Leon, kid, you need to breathe,” Chris said. His presence was a solid wall behind Leon. “I’m going to touch you, okay?”

Leon focused on Chris’ voice. His vision began to swim back into focus, his hearing rushed back in a sudden wall of familiar night noises like the drip of the faucet in the bathroom or the lonely car that passed on the highway. He nodded, not fully understanding what Chris was saying. An arm slid around his waist and pulled him back into a firm chest. Leon flailed, seconds from panic again when Chris’ voice rumbled in his ear.

“You’re going to be okay. I got you.”

Leon grasped Chris’ arm, his grip probably tight enough to leave bruises, and he choked on a shuddering sob.

“It’s okay, Leon. You’re going to be okay.”

Gasping for air, Leon rolled over and buried his face in Chris’ chest, and Chris let him. Leon’s sobs were muffled in Chris’ arms, not wanting to disturb Sherry in the next bed. He felt every subtle muscle flex when Chris tightened his grip or shifted them into a more comfortable position. That’s how Leon passed out, wrapped in the reassuring embrace of a complete stranger, one who understood the hell he’d lived through and the fear and uncertainty he felt in his soul.

Morning came quickly. Leon woke up still curled into Chris’ chest with a death grip on the other man’s faded t-shirt. Chris’ nose was buried in Leon’s hair, each soft snore ruffling his hair, but his embrace hadn’t lessened overnight.

The warmth of embarrassment burning, Leon snuck out of bed, anxiously loosening Chris’ hold and dashing for the safety and solitude of the bathroom, horrified at his complete lack of control the night before. No one had held him like that before, at least not since he was a child and his grandma would sit up with him after a nightmare. But, sadly, this was another type of nightmare, a waking one.

When Leon finally mustered the courage to wander back into the room, Chris was up, sitting on the edge of the bed with his elbows on his knees.

“You okay?” Chris asked the same time Leon burst out, “I’m sorry!”

Chris sighed. “You didn’t do anything wrong. When I showed up on your doorstep last night, I saw right away that you were barely holding it together.”

Leon’s fists clenched at his side. He couldn’t meet Chris’ gentle gaze.

Chris crossed the room in two enormous strides and considerately grasped Leon by the shoulders. “It was the shock finally hitting you. It happened to me too, but I was alone,” Chris admitted. “Hey. Hey, come on. Look at me.”

Leon bit his lower lip, but he slowly looked up, eyes stinging. “I don’t know what to do.”

Telegraphing his movements, Chris gently pulled Leon into a tight hug. “You’re not alone. We’re going to do this together. I want to take Umbrella down, but first, I wanna make sure you’re okay.”

Leon jerked back so fast Chris stumbled. “I want to help. I want to make those sons of bitches pay.”

Chris smiled. “Good. But first, I have a safe house.”

Together, they set the plans. Leon and Sherry would meet Chris in two days, hopefully with Claire in tow, at Chris’ new safehouse three states over. Sherry and Leon could catch a bus a couple miles down the highway to get them most of the way. The trick would be getting up the mountain to the cabin. But they were in this together. Hope simmered once again.

Armed with a freshly drawn map on motel stationery, Leon watched Chris pack. Umbrella wouldn’t know what hit them.

“Here. Take it.”Chris handed Leon two rumpled twenties, a five, and a few ones he dug out of his wallet. “It’s all the cash I have on me, but it should be enough to get you there. I’ll drop you off-”

“No.” Leon took the cash, but waved off Chris’ offer to give him and Sherry a lift to the bus station. “It’s in the opposite direction. We’ll be fine.”

“Two days,” Chris promised. Sherry had climbed out of bed and now clung to Chris’ arm as if he couldn’t leave as long as she was attached. He ruffled her hair. “With or without Claire, I’ll be there and we’ll go from there.” Chris grabbed Leon by the back of the neck and dragged him into a gruff hug, their foreheads lightly pressed together. “It’s gonna be okay, kid.”

And Leon believed him. That is, until two hours later when an unmarked vehicle pulled up on Leon and Sherry hiking down the side of the road, hand in hand. They never made it to the rendezvous.

[sunshineseung]

Journal Part 2 // Jeongin

🍄 | genre: smut ☁️ | pairing: Yang Jeongin x female!reader 🌿 | wc: 3.2k 🌸 | includes: milf!reader x babysitter!college student!virgin!jeongin, solo masturbation (m), “mommy/ma’am”, other pet names, more smut within smut [spanking, punishment], breast play, begging, agreement of safe word, unprotected PIV, choking, creampie, male overstimulation, a lil bit more but that’s the main stuff

🌊 | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Finale |

The dim light of the desk lamp was all that lit the room as Jeongin desperately jotted his thoughts down into his journal. It was very late at night, almost sunrise, but he couldn’t stop thinking about you. As he was writing, he was completely hard, and his hand was lazily stroking his cock, not in an attempt to reach an orgasm, but rather just to relieve some of the pent up energy he had inside of himself. 

This journal will no longer have to be fantasy. Finally, after years of going after girls and failing miserably, I have a girl that wants me, but not just a girl, a woman. Ms. L/n, the woman this entire book is for, said she needs me, and she did get me like she wanted. Although I wasn’t thinking straight, I remember everything. Her defined hands worshipped my body while she teased me, and even with my underwear on, it was hard not whimpering and moaning as she gripped my cock like I’ve wanted her to for so long. When she went down on me, it felt like a dream. I almost pinched myself out of fear that it was all a dream, but when I looked down to see my release covering her chest, I knew it wasn’t. 

The kiss… Her lips were so pretty and soft. The way she kissed me made my heart burst, like my life was just starting to begin. As cheesy as that sounds, I can’t shake the feeling that my neighbor who I once only lusted for was becoming more than just the woman I think about when I’m needy. I want to be with her all the time, and not just for sex. It’s too early to say I’m in love, of course, but despite her being over ten years older than me, would it be crazy of me to say that I like her?

Jeongin shut the journal, putting it in his bookbag for tomorrow. Looking back out of his bedroom window, the light behind your curtains was off, signaling it was way too late for him to be up. He slept good that night knowing all of his wildest and dirtiest dreams were about to come true, or at least a few of them.

🍓🍰🐤🍀💐🍯

School was always a drag, but only having one class on Friday’s was a gift from God for Jeongin. All he had to do was get through an hour and a half of class, then he could go to your house. Through text, you told him to be prepared to stay late, possibly overnight, and being the overly excited (and horny) teenage boy that Jeongin is, he couldn’t help but let his imagination run wild. Late night sex, morning sex, shower sex, the things he wanted to do with you were endless. Still, he also wanted to hold your hand, as weird as that sounded.

Putting his feelings aside, he joined his last class of the week and scrolled through his phone as his teacher blabbed on about who-knows-what. He needed something to distract him from the massive distraction that was your entire existence. 

He dashed out of his house right when class ended, showing up to your house earlier than usual only by a few minutes. You thanked him for watching your kids and left, and the casualness of your mannerisms alarmed Jeongin. You’re all he’s been thinking about for the past day, so how were you so calm and collected as if you weren’t wearing the same shirt that had his cum on it, albeit washed and dried right after the fact.

Your kids certainly help Jeongin get his mind off of you when they immediately ask him to play once you leave. After going through every jigsaw puzzle and playing with every Barbie doll, he finally put them to bed, giving him over an hour before you get home from work to write whatever he wants in his journal. He just has to avoid falling asleep this time. 

“Please hit me harder ma’am,” I whine as she has me bent over her lap. I deserve this, and even more so, I want this. I want Ms. L/n to spank my ass as hard as she can while I writhe in her lap with my hard cock rubbing against her leg. “I’ve been a bad boy, haven’t I?” The marks she leaves on my ass burn in the best way. Feeling her nails dig into my skin when she grabs the flesh that she’s made bright red, I cry out of pleasure and pain. What’s so rewarding about being punished, and why does it make my cock twitch with excitement when you treat me like shit?

Subconsciously, Jeongin’s free hand has moved to the tent in his pants, rubbing over the fabric of his jeans for the slightest bit of stimulation. Feeling himself, he puts the journal to the side after writing nearly two pages of disgusting fantasies. Despite having a nice, wholesome time with your two daughters under an hour ago, his mind, as usual, wonders to the thought of you pleasuring him and yourself as much as you want. To Jeongin, he’s your babysitter but also your toy that will happily let you use him however you wish, basically making him your slave. 

Getting home a few minutes early, you walk into your house to see the living room empty, although you were expecting your babysitter to be on the couch. Opening the door to your kids’ room, they’re sound asleep with no sign of him. Your head spins when you hear muffled groans coming from your bedroom. Being only mildly pissed, you storm into your room to see none other Yang Jeongin curled into your comforter, jerking off while his head is buried into your pillow.

“Couldn’t wait for me, huh?” Jeongin feels the edge of the bed dip as you sit on the edge, but he doesn’t stop. Actually, he speeds up, moaning louder now that you’ve closed the door. He’s still partially dressed with his cute little ass hanging out of the back of his pulled down jeans. “Aw, is my pretty boy about to cum? Who are you thinking about, hm?” 

“Y-you.” Jeongin sighs loudly, feeling himself get closer to his climax just by you mentioning it. “I was thinking about you, only you, ma’am.” His whines of this new name make your face flush. You reach out for his thigh, turning him so he’s laying on his back. He flops into position like a ragdoll, but his hand remains pumping his cock. Just by feeling your hands on him, he cums all over his wrinkled tee shirt. Embarrassed he came so fast, he apologizes, but you know very well he isn’t really done yet.

“Don’t be sorry, baby. You’re so young, and I’m sure you can go another round.”

You pull his pants and underwear down his legs, making him gasp from the sudden exposure despite you seeing it all before. “Now sit up and take that shirt off.”

Fully obedient, he stands off the bed and strips until he’s totally naked, face red as he awkwardly holds his hands to his sides. You sit in front of him, running your hands down his arms until you grab his hips and bring him closer until his cock is right at your chest. Although he’s still a little soft, you’re sure he’ll get hard in no time.

“Undress me, Jeongin.” His eyes go wide as he looks your figure up and down, scared of what he’s about to see, and even more scared of what he’s about to do. With a dramatic gulp, he unbuttons the familiar work shirt you were wearing, exposing your bra. He slowly leans down, carefully not to faceplant into your chest, unbuttoning your top entirely before you shake it off of your shoulders, the article of clothing falling behind you on the bed. “I’m guessing you don’t know how to unhook a bra?”

“N-no. I’m sorry.” Jeongin moves back and covers his face with his hands as you reach behind you and easily unhook your bra for him, dropping it onto your thighs and tossing it somewhere on the floor. When he removes his hands from his face, his jaw hangs open. He can’t take his eyes off of your tits, which are much nicer than he could ever imagine. “May I touch them, mommy?”

“Of course, baby.” You take his wrist in your hand and pull his right hand to your left breast, basically forcing him to squeeze it between his fingers, not that he minded. Seeing him so flustered and confused only made you more turned on. He was so innocent, yet the things he wrote in his journal were so vulgar. You could hardly believe that the words in that cursed book came from the boy that didn’t know how to unhook a bra. “Put your mouth to the nipple.” 

“Huh?”

“Don’t act so naïve, Jeongin. I know you’ve thought about this before.” He finally looks up to you out of shock. “So shy? Now? But when you write in that book of yours, you’re not shy, are you?” 

“No ma’am. I’m sorry.” 

Stopping his hand, you pull him down to his knees by his wrist. He’s eye-level with your stomach, but he quickly raises himself up to connect his lips with one of your nipples. You moan shortly as your hand tangles in his hair, pulling him closer into your chest. Even after breastfeeding your two kids, your nipples were sensitive as ever. 

“Good boy.” You stare down at him as he’s focused, swirling his tongue around your bud. When he finally looks up to you, your head is thrown back from the mild pleasure Jeongin’s shooting through your nerves. 

He’s starting to feel bold. Jeongin moves from one nipple to the other, massaging your other spit-coated breast with his hand. His fingers rub your nipple, twisting it just enough for it to all feel good. Your moans become more frequent, and being able to hear you groan for him is all he’s ever wanted. 

“Mommy, can I fuck your tits?” You’re the one that’s shocked this time. He pulls back, his hand becoming still on your other breast. “I want to fuck your tits so bad, please?” 

“Whoa there, baby boy. Getting a little ahead of yourself, aren’t you?” You laugh at his eagerness, pulling him by his hair to stand up. Just seeing how hard he’s gotten by sucking on your tits is enough to make you almost laugh again, but you wouldn’t want to be too mean to the poor boy. 

Moving back on the bed, you lay down and spread your legs. His eyes immediately direct towards your heat, still covered by your work pants. When you gesture towards the obstacle, he lets out a tiny “oh” before pulling your pants down, leaving you in your sopping panties. 

He hooks his index fingers on the hips of your panties, gently pulling them down your legs before dropping them to the floor with your panties. Again, this is greater than anything he could have imagined. 

“C’mere, my little prince.” You take his hands in yours, dragging him to sit on your thighs while you lay under him. You don’t let go of his hands, and he really doesn’t want you to. Your pet names for him always make him blush, but this one in particular made his heart beat even faster than before. “Have you written anything about me since yesterday?”

Jeongin’s mind becomes clouded by all of the things he’s written in the past 24 hours. Every scenario and confession fills his head, and it takes him a few moments to answer before he comes back to reality to answer you. “Y-yes mommy.”

“What did you write?”

Pause. “S-spank me?” Jeongin’s voice is only a light whisper. 

“What was that?” You lean up a little, holding your hand behind your ear to tease him. “You have to speak up, Jeonginnie.”

“I wrote about you spanking me.” His voice returns to him, now fully speaking from his chest. “Punishing me, treating me like a doll.”

“Oh my God, baby. That’s so perverted.” You rub his thighs up and down as you stare at his cock, now twitching with your every word. “You want to be my little doll? Let me do whatever I want to you?” 

“Y-yes!” His overexcited nature makes you giggle as you feel around his pelvis, hands getting dangerously close to his dick. “Can I be mommy’s little toy? I’ll be good, I promise!”

“But don’t you want me to punish you too?” You bite your lip as you look up at him. He’s looking off into the distance, imagining all of the nasty things he wants you to do to him. “Spank you, degrade you, deprive you?” 

“Can’t I have both?” His retort is quick. You didn’t know he could answer you so soon since he was clearly dipping into subspace, although he didn’t even know he did that. “Be your good boy and make you punish me?”

“Wow, so dirty~ We’ll need a safe word, alright?” He nods in understanding, watching you as you try to come up with a word that you could both comfortably say. “How about ‘mango’? Would that be good for you?”

“Mango is good, yeah.” You feel around the base of his cock, watching precum drip from his tip as he groans.

“What do you want to do right now, baby boy?”

“Oh,” he ponders for a second, “p-please fuck me.” 

“Ah, I love it when you beg.” You roughly push him over, his body falling onto the bed right where he was jerking off not too long ago. Climbing over him, you line his member up with your entrance, running his tip through your folds. He whimpers under you, biting the side of his hand to hold back any unwanted sounds he might let out. “Are you ready?”

“Y-yes, mommy! Please let me feel you.” The hand he isn’t biting down on goes to one of his nipples, feeling his chest like he just did to you. You slowly lower onto him, watching his facial expressions rapidly change as he gets used to feeling your cunt around him. He isn’t the biggest, but he still manages to fill you up and make you feel just right. 

Once you’re fully lowered onto him, he grabs your hips and holds you, whining your name over and over again. You can tell he’s trying to get something out, but his brain is too blank to form a sentence. Adjusting yourself on his cock, he groans with a high-pitched whine following shortly after.

“Wait, w-what if I cum inside you?” You look down at him, smiling at his cuteness. “I don’t think I’ll be able to last too long.”

“Don’t worry about a thing, baby.” You lean over and kiss his forehead, holding his face in your palms. “No matter what, I’m not stopping until I cum, got it?”

“Y-yes, ah~ Y/n!” Leaning back from his face, you raise up on him while he is mid-sentence, making him moan out for you. When you start to ride him, his sounds just can’t stop. Fearful that he’ll wake your children, you lean forward again and cover his mouth with your hand, still allowing him to breath through his nose. Ignoring your hand, he continues to cry and wail, feeling like he was on cloud nine just from you riding him. 

“You have such a nice cock, Jeonginnie. It’s even better inside me, though.” Your mind starts to fog, ignoring the younger boy’s needs to chase your own high. While one of your hands covers his mouth, your other hand wraps around his neck, choking him just enough to make him sob from the thrill. A few tears rolled down his cheeks, and without being able to warn you, he reached his climax and shot his load inside you, but you didn't stop.

Cum leaks out of your hole as your movements become quicker and rougher. The hand that covered his mouth has now joined your other hand around his neck, choking him as he sobs from the overstimulation, yet the predetermined safe word isn’t even crossing his mind. He loves everything you’re doing to him more than he could ever describe with words.

Your thumb runs across his bottom hip and he opens his mouth, light sobs leaving his throat. Ducking down towards his face, you kiss him with full tongue, something he’s never experienced before. Still, he quickly learned the movements and kissed you back, loving the feeling of your mouth against his. 

Pulling away, you stare down into his eyes. You looked beyond beautiful to him, and the entire visual of your half-lidded eyes, gaping mouth, bouncing tits, and dripping cunt making his cock disappear over and over again, he couldn’t help but get hard again.

“Cum for me, please mommy?” He pouts, giving you the glimmering eyes that always make you shudder. His hand hesitantly makes his way down to your clit, circling it with one finger while you ride his cock. You’re not entirely sure how he knows where the clitoris is, but it feels so good that you don’t even care. 

Mewling with your entire throat, your cunt tightens around Jeongin’s cock as you ride out your high, shallowing your movements. The sight of you cumming from him makes him moan right with you, nearly cumming inside you again. AS you come down from your orgasm, you slowly pull yourself off of him, his cock dropping against his abdomen, covering in the combined juices of you two. Catching your breath, you lay next to Jeongin, secretly hoping he’ll turn to his side so you can spoon him for a minute. 

“I can stay, right?” Jeongin turns to you while you lay on your side, looking to you for any sign of discontent. You nod as you stand up to go to the bathroom and clean up. “Oh, where are you going?”

“I can’t sleep like this.” You laugh as you gesture to your pussy, clearly in no shape to sit overnight. “I’ll be right back out.”

You disappear into the bathroom, ready to take care of the mess between your legs. Jeongin grabs a tissue and wipes himself clean of any release left on himself before laying back down and going on his phone, seeing a plethora of text message notifications from his friends’ group chat. He doesn’t have the mental capacity to check them right now. He just wants to bliss out, joyfully going through the entire night over again in his mind, cementing every action and event in his memory. 

Walking back from the bathroom, you toss yourself onto the bed and lay next to Jeongin, asking him politely to turn over so you can be the big spoon. With your chest pressed against his back, he puts his phone down and falls asleep.

Suddenly, your phone rings, and you quickly reach over to answer the call without seeing who it was. Unfortunately, it was your ex husband's voice coming from the other end, and you wish you had turned your ringer off. Jeongin was asleep, just like your kids, but as you rubbed your eyes from tiredness, you couldn’t help but regret answering the call.

“Y/n, are you fucking one of my students?”

Shit.

[sweatersstyles]

or the one where you forget harry’s birthday and try desperately to make it up to him

just wanted to write something small to try to get back into writing after my break! thank you all for your encouragement, excitement, and patience and I apologize for it being a few days later than I wanted it to be! this is probably the closest to angst that you’ll ever get from me :)

thank you to @1980holland, @summertimestyles, @tbslenthusiast, @bigspoonstyles​, @angryinternetduck, and @iconicharry for letting me run my ideas by you and being so kind in general. more thanks to @tbslenthusiast and @bigspoonstyles for being the most wonderful beta readers and just lovely friends overall!

this is another part of my dad!harry series so as always they are linked in order if you want to re-visit them or read from the beginning if you choose to!

⭐ I Want Your Belly ⭐ Wonderful and Warm ⭐ Washed Away in You ⭐ Do You Want to Build a Snowman? ⭐ A Styles Family Christmas ⭐

word count: 3.6k

“Harry, I’m running late do you think you could drop Sterling off at the sitter’s on your way to set?”

You’re already dressed, pulling on your shoes and grabbing your bag and keys from where they were tossed next to the dresser from the evening before. You dart into the bathroom to quickly brush your teeth.

Harry pokes his head around the doorframe, a wrinkled shirt in his hand, rushing through his own morning routine, “Thought she was coming here?”

“She can’t today, remember? Today’s our day to drop him off.” You put your toothbrush away just as he joins you, taking the toothpaste from your hand to use for himself.

“Alright, yeah. Y’ll have to pick him up later though, think it’ll be a late one for me today.” 

“That’s fine. I’ll throw his bag together and leave it by the door for you to grab on the way out. He’s already been fed and changed so he should be all set. I’ll transfer his car seat to your car too, so you won’t have to worry about that.”

He still has the toothbrush in his mouth, so you stand on your tiptoes to give him a peck to the cheek, adding a “bye, love you!” on your way out the bathroom door.

“Wait..y’don’t have anything else to say to me before you leave?” His mouth now rinsed, he crosses his arms and leans against the doorway, a tired smile working its way across his lips.

“Um..be careful? Don’t drive too fast with Sterling in the car.” 

“I never drive fast,” He takes a quick peek in the mirror, running his hands through his messy curls before turning back to you, “S’that all? Nothing else to say?”

You search your brain, trying to remember anything else you may have forgotten, “Oh! Right..”

His face lights up then, thinking maybe he was gonna finally hear the words he’d been waiting all morning to hear from you.  

“Make sure you tell the sitter there’s an extra pacifier in the right side of his bag that she can leave there in his cubby in case we ever forget one..and that I’ll drop a pack of diapers and wipes off when I pick him up cause I know he’s running low.”

His brow furrows slightly with disappointment, but you’re too busy to notice, blowing him another kiss before rushing out the door of your shared bedroom and down the hall to get Sterling’s bag ready.

He’s still pouting as he opens his top drawer to select a pair of socks for the day.

He couldn’t believe you forgot it was his birthday.

In your opinion, 6 weeks was not long enough for maternity leave. You’re sure no amount of time in your happy bubble with Harry and Sterling would’ve been enough. 

You were somehow able to push those 6 weeks to 12, your boss kindly agreeing to let you do what work you could from home. Eventually, that extension had to come to an end though and there was no other way you could avoid returning to ‘normal’ life.

You’re an hour into your work day but you still can’t shake the feeling that you had truly forgotten something. Harry’s words from the morning ring through your head again and again but you still couldn’t pinpoint what was special about this particular day. It was a Monday..was there some sort of significant anniversary from your relationship over the years, something small but important to him? 

You grab your phone when you have a chance, a quick lull in your morning that allows you to scroll through your phone’s calendar to double check anything your phone may have not yet notified you about. There’s nothing saved, and it does nothing to jog your memory of what importance today’s date holds. 

A text from Anne comes through and your heart stops when you read the message: Tell the birthday boy his present from me is on the way! I was a day later than I should’ve been sending it out so hope he won’t be too upset with me. All my love to you and Sterling as well!

No. Oh no. Guilt bubbles up through your chest and you cover your mouth to stop from cursing too loudly and scaring your nearby coworkers. You have to steady your hand so you can navigate your way through your contacts to Harry’s number, trying to calculate where in his schedule for the day he may be now. It was too early for him to be taking a lunch break, but you silently prayed he would be on a break in between filming scenes that would allow him to answer.

He had told you in the past that even if he wasn’t able to have his phone with him, it was always nearby. Especially now that you had Sterling, he tried to make himself available no matter how busy his schedule would be for the day. Even if he wasn’t able to answer, he would always make time to call back. 

So when you try 2 times with no success of getting through, you stop. You had both agreed before that 3 calls was your distress signal, and you didn’t want his mind to think the worst when he did see you’d tried to get through to him. A text seems too informal, too little for the man you love and adore. He deserved better than that, better than you, a partner who forgot one of the most important days where he should be made to feel special and loved every second.

It wasn’t like you didn’t know this day was coming, you did, of course you did. Being a new parent had well and truly ruined your memory. Turns out birthing a tiny human requires learning a ton of new information to keep your little one alive, meaning that even almost 3 months later your brain hadn’t been fully restored and you weren’t sure if it ever would be. 

How could you make up for something like this? You suppose you could pretend that it was all a joke; that you’d had this elaborate plan all along to surprise him and make him think that you had forgotten his birthday. But you couldn’t lie to him like that, it would only cause you to hate yourself even more later for covering it up. Plus, Harry knew you too well and would see right through that, and then whatever hurt you’re sure he was feeling now would only grow. 

You know he would eventually forgive you, if he hadn’t already, but that didn’t stop guilt from overriding your thoughts. If anything it made you feel almost worse knowing that he would be so incredibly forgiving.

God, you could only imagine the reaction of the fans if they found out. Some of them already had some questionable opinions about you, a few even going so far as to speculate if Sterling was truly Harry’s child, claiming that you had somehow “trapped” Harry into a relationship with you and that it would eventually fail. Harry had tried to ban you from going too deep, but sometimes your curiosity got the best of you, prompting you to scroll through Twitter or Instagram occasionally. It usually ended with you getting your feelings hurt and Harry having to remind you once again to stay away.

You try to find something in your memory, anything that he may have mentioned wanting (or at this point even needing) over the past few months. Aside from the mundane, everyday things like laundry detergent and shampoo to add to the shopping list, you couldn’t recall a thing. You only had 6 hours before you had to pick up Sterling, so you had to come up with something fast, something amazing.

What do you get for the golden boy who has everything?

You couldn’t believe you didn’t think of it before. It was something you had discovered not long after Sterling’s birth, but like many other things it had gotten easily dismissed and pushed down to the bottom of your list. 

Today, it only takes a few clicks through the website, a double checking of the spelling of the name that will be on the certificate, and a quick selection of a location for where you want it to be for Harry to now be the (hopefully) proud owner of his very own star in the sky.

After all it was Harry who found the name Sterling for your child, it was him who whispered “buonanotte nostra piccola stella” each night as he helped you put Sterling to bed; a phrase he had been most pleased with himself for learning, the Italian to English translation being “goodnight our little star”. If he couldn’t be there to say it, he made sure you knew the proper enunciation of the expression so that you could pass it along from him. It was always followed by 3 kisses to the top of his son’s head.

Thankfully, you were able to use the printer at work to print out the certificate and the map, slipping them both into a manilla envelope and tucking it away in your bag before you clock out for the day. Though you wished you had time to stop and select a nice frame, you only have 30 minutes before having to pick up Sterling, so you opt for a speedy trip to the nearest bakery and grocery store to gather what other supplies you’ll need for the rest of the evening.

By the time you and Sterling make it home, you still haven’t heard anything from Harry. You send up another silent prayer, more for his safety than anything, but also selfishly for yourself and his forgiveness towards you. It wasn’t unusual for you to not hear from him most days, and you remind yourself of his words from that morning about most likely having to work late. 

You push away the guilt that threatens to invade your thoughts again, doing what you need to do for Sterling to keep him content while you start preparations for dinner. Once you have him settled in his swing nearby, you take a moment to scroll through your music selection on your phone, deciding that having something playing in the background would be better than being alone with your thoughts while you work. 

You’ve just washed the veggies to chop for the salad when your phone dings, indicating a new message. You know it’s from Harry, and you’re almost scared to look. Instant relief floods your body when you do have the courage to take a peek: Home in an hour. Love you! Give bub kisses from me xx

The “love you” fills you with overwhelming comfort; takes you back to the day you first met him and how your heart skipped a beat when you realized it was you he was trailing through the crowd of people to approach, a cozy smile plastered on his face. You’ll never forget the gentle way he had spoken and how even though you were surrounded by at least a hundred other people at the party, he didn’t take his eyes off you the whole night. You let out a huge sigh of breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding in and contemplate the best way to respond, finally concluding that simple was better.

Be careful, baby. Love you more!! Bubs and I miss you

His text gives you more motivation than you already had to power through making his favorite meal for him. An hour is plenty of time to get everything done, so when Sterling gets fussy and wants to be held, you tuck him against your side, doing what you can with one hand while keeping a tight grip on your son. You know he had missed you when he almost instantly relaxes at being close to you, and your heart hurts at the thought of ever being away from him again, even for something important like your job.

It still takes you a minute to get him calm enough to rest his head on your shoulder, so you don’t hear the sound of the door, or the clink of Harry’s keys or the sound of his footsteps falling down the hallway.

“Need some help, lovie?”

His voice, which normally calms you, nearly makes you jump out of your skin. So when you turn and say, “I thought you said an hour!” it comes out more like an attack than grateful to see him again.

“S’what I thought but we rushed through so I could leave earlier. Is that a problem?” His face is unreadable, somewhere between confused and disappointed with your tone.

“No! Of course not, Harry, I just..” That’s when your voice breaks, your guilt and emotions of forgetting his birthday finally being too much to hold back.

“Hey, don’t do that,” He’s moving the rest of the way through the kitchen to you, a hand smoothing a small circle over your back as you try to wipe your tears, “Please don’t cry.”

“I just wanted to have everything ready by the time you got home, to make up for this morning. For forgetting it was your birthday in the first place. I’m so sorry, H.” 

“You’ve got nothin’ to apologize for, angel. You don’t have to make anything up to me. We’ve both been crazy busy lately, I’m surprised I even remembered what day it was. Here, why don’t I put Sterling in his swing and help you finish dinner?”

“No, absolutely not. It’s your birthday and I know you’re tired. Plus, I think he missed us today. You know how much he loves his swing but I didn’t get very much done before he got upset.”

“Alright, well, I’ll take him while you get everything else done. How’s that sound?”

You nod an agreement at his plan, transferring Sterling from your shoulder to his. There’s a few whimpers of disapproval, but he lets out a small sigh of contentment once he realizes it’s Harry who holds him now. Harry turns his head to smack a few kisses to the baby’s cheek to further pacify him. Sterling’s eyes open briefly, gazing sleepily up at his father. 

“Hi, bub, missed you. Let’s go see what kind of trouble we can get into while Mummy makes dinner, huh?” 

“Not too much trouble, boys. It’s almost bedtime,” He winks at you as he turns to leave and you stop him, “Hey, wait, try this. Tell me if it needs anything.”

You stir a spoon through the pasta sauce you’ve had simmering away on the stove, bringing it to his lips with a hand underneath, careful not to drip it down the front of his white button-up or the top of Sterling’s head. He lets you feed him the spoonful, but doesn’t take his eyes off your lips.  Before you even have time to ask him how it is, he’s trapping his mouth against yours, a satisfied hum at the sauce mixing with the taste of you.

“Delicious.” He runs his tongue along his bottom lip, catching a bit of sauce that ended up smudged at the corner of his mouth.

“Really?”

“Really, darling, it’s perfect.” 

At this point it’s obvious he’s not talking about the sauce, and you push yourself up to plant another kiss on his lips.

“Another,” He gently demands, and you oblige, but he doesn’t pull away yet, “C’mon, few more.”

“Looks like Sterling’s not the only needy baby in this house tonight. How many more kisses do you need?”

He smirks down at you, “It’s my 27th birthday, innit? Think I deserve 27 kisses, don’t you?”

You send him away with the promise of fulfilling his request for the rest of his kisses later, finally able to rush through finishing the last of what was needed to complete the meal and call him back to see the table full of everything you’ve prepared. 

Sterling is bright eyed in Harry’s arms again, and you hope that feeding him will lull him back to sleep for the night. With him having to stay with a sitter on the days that you and Harry were both working, you’d recently had to switch to using bottles for some of his meals. The sitter had assured you that he was adjusting to the bottle well when he was with her, but it had been a frustrating transition for you. 

“You’ve just spoiled him to the usual way, love. It’ll get easier. Want me to try?” He holds out his hand, offering to take the bottle and Sterling back, but you refuse. You know Harry’s right, it will get easier eventually, but right now you know he’s just still tired and hungry. So you give in, lifting your shirt and tossing a blanket over him while he eats. 

“Eat so you can blow out your candles and then open your present.”

He sets a plate of food in front of you and passes you a fork so you can eat with your free hand.

His mouth is full of food but his green eyes light up when he looks at you, “I have a present?” 

“Of course you do. It’s your birthday, isn’t it?” 

“Can we skip cake and do the present first?”

You giggle at his excitement, but the truth is you’re nervous. You know he will be nice enough to tell you he loves it, but you also know him well enough to read the truth on his face. 

“Sure, birthday boy, whatever you want.” Sterling’s finished eating by now so you rest him on your shoulder, tapping his back a few times until you hear a small burp. Harry’s plate is mostly empty now, as is yours, so you tuck Sterling into his swing while you go to retrieve the envelope from earlier in the day. Your heart races as you may your way back to where he sits at the table, his eyes covered dramatically as he waits.

“You can open,” You slide the envelope in front of him and prop your chin up on one of your hands as you watch his fingers work to open the clasp. The papers sit upside down on the table and you inhale a deep breath as he flips them over. His face is full of curiosity as his eyes scan the page. 

“Did you..is this real?”

“Well I’m not sure how official it is but, yes, it’s real.” You take the map from behind the certificate and point out the location, “According to this it’s..”

“Is my star right over our house?” His eyes are wide as he studies the coordinates, “Can we go see if we can see it now?”

How can you say no to that? You let him lead you out the back door of your home and out into the cool air of the night. He only lets go of your hand when he reaches the edge of the yard, pointing straight upwards.

“It’s gotta be that big one, right? That mine, right?” You look over his shoulder down at the map and then back up to where he’s pointing.

“Yep, I think that’s the one. Unless..do you have the map upside down?”

“No! Do I?” He squints his eyes, bringing it closer to his face in an attempt to read it in the dark. 

“You definitely did. It’s that one there..to the left of the big one we thought was yours.”

“S’gorgeous, baby,” He tugs your hand until your smushed against his side and he tosses his arm around you, letting out a deep sigh as he continues to stare up at the sky, “Thank you so much.”

“You really like it?” You’ve got both arms wrapped around his middle now, enjoying the feeling of his chest rising and falling.

“I really do, angel. Can’t believe you named a star after me twice.” 

“Twice?” You tilt your head upwards to look at his face.

“Yeah. Twice. That one,” He points up again, “My favorite one though, the greatest gift you will probably ever give me, is probably snoring in his swing right about now.”

As sweet as the moment is, you can’t help but snort out a laugh at that, “If he’s anything like you, he’s definitely snoring right now.”

“Hey, I don’t snore!”

“Oh yes, you do. Feel like I’m sleeping in a cave with a bear sometimes.”

That earns you a big, booming laugh from him, and he pulls you even closer to kiss the top of your head. You turn your body to face him, squeezing him once and kissing his chest through his shirt.

“Happy birthday, Harry.”

“Thank you,” He places his hands on either side of your face, thumbs rubbing along your cheeks, a slow smile sneaking its way across his face, “Can I have the rest of my kisses now?”

The next time Anne and Gemma come to visit, he’s sweeping them down to the end of the hallway leading into your living room, to where he now proudly shows them the framed certificate and map sitting side by side on the wall. Of course they had both already heard about it before. The day after his birthday he had spent 10 minutes on the phone with each of them bragging about it. He’s got Sterling in his arms as he shows it off now. He holds him up next to the two frames.

“How lucky am I, huh? Not every man can say they have two stars named after them, can they?”

thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!

as always likes, reblogs, replies, and feedback are welcome!

tag list: @1980holland, @summertimestyles, @la-cey, @tbslenthusiast​