#my heart is full and gooey

[ratsummer]

💌⭐️ Send this to your emotional support mutuals, who make your day brighter ⭐️💌

Van this for real made my entire daaaaaay I am weeping and smooching youuuu 😭

I am also going to hijack this ask as an opportunity to confess that just yesterday I started drafting a post in my head to all my ghesties here on Tumblr because I have not been as active as I want to and I feel bad! I have been wanting to apologize! I think you are all some of the coolest, funniest, kindest, silliest people and I adore sharing this space with you and I always want to be here to gas you up! YOU guys make MY day brighter literally all of the time!!! And I don't want you all to feel like I am ignoring things you've put time and effort into :c

Also, you all are the ones who have put stories back in my heart <3 I have been so inspired and feeling so creative, I am just the busiest person on earth through summer/early fall so I haven't had the time to dedicate to sharing things with you lovely people c: I try to send little things here or there when I see that one of you need it, but I'd eventually like to be one of the people who has an open ask box for writing little ficlets (what IS a ficlet? vs fic?? vs oneshot??? I'm so old and I've read so much fanfiction and I STILL don't know the differences!!!) on request c:

I feel bad because I really feel like I've been missing out on a lot of what you all have been doing! For real, NEVER hesitate to tag me or send me a message or an ask if you want me to see something/think there's something I'd like!

Anyway thank you again for thinking of me Van and I am thinking of you so much even when I am not being particularly active on here!! Much love from a silly, weepy lil rat <3

[aislinceivun]

Illustration for ch38 of my fic, Family of Four. (Part of The Cat and His Family series) They've truly met at last!🥰

[A series of interconnected double drabbles from Touko’s POV, set shortly after Truth Out.] Now that the Fujiwaras know of Natsume’s secret and Madara’s true identity, the four of them can grow into a family stronger and truer than before.

[deadpoolkisser]

Sometimes I think about his past partners that left him and I think maybe I'm the change for him maybe I'm the one that won't see him as terrible I'm the one who sees him as beautiful and worth loving, seeing past his physical appearance and his mental problems he has and loving him and letting him learn to love himself just a little more too

[heymrspatel]

today was a good one 🩵

[tonycries]

STICKYYY

Synopsis. His new year’s resolution? To knock you up!

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Higuruma x Reader, Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, babyféver, BRÉEDING, creampíes, buIges, mentions of kíds, cervíx kíssing, full neIsons, GOJO’S POWERS, ínnapropriate use of jujutsu, PÚSSYDRÚNK JJK MEN, marathons, true form Sukuna, dp, Sukuna’s second mouth, p talking, cúmplay, spítting, making it fit, use of “ma’am”, pet names, swéaring.

A/N. Be honest can y’all tell that I’m ovuIating…

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - FEVER!

“T-Tooooji-”

You’re being oh-so-easily shut up with just three stinging slaps! of Toji’s hefty, swollen tip. Strawberry-red, and just as angrily plump. Making such a mess when he’s smearing between your treacly walls in a gluey kiss - like he never wanted to let go. 

And you never wanted him to.

Not even when he’s rolling his eyes with a mean titter, “Don’t remember my heh- birthday gift includin’ this chatty mouth of yours, doll.” A singular, masculine palm sheaths over your deliriously slack maw - rough. “S’even more talkative than her-”

But it was impossible not to be after these hours upon hours.

Impossible for your sloppy entrance to not drawl out resoundingly filthy slurps every time Toji’s scooping his buttery seed back in with his vicious fingers.

“Ya realize that’s supposed to stay ah- inside, ma?” Wrangling your legs open into a rude full-nelson to leave a sappy smack! at that gooey heaven right between. Toji sounds so utterly sullen at the waste, “How m’I gonna get myself a daughter if ya can’t keep it in, hm?”

It was a rhetorical question - and Toji was fucking you like it was.

Sculptured, beefy biceps barely even flexing at the practically non-existent struggle to manhandle your thighs open. It gave you both such a perfect view - of your saturatedly glossy pussy folds being constricted around his lazily sinking size. Struggling. Goopy masses of Toji’s honeyed cum from just prior being drooled out after every syrupy squelch-

“Mouthy fuckin’ cunt.”’ You’re hearing him whisper from right behind you, puffs of condensed air hitting the tender spots on your neck and making you keen. “Makes me wonder- heh- who the babyfever got talkin’ more. You or her.”

He was babbling nonsense - and you were, too.

The raw ruptures of his bloated head making your jaw droop stupidly open, lashing around your heated insides to probe up rigorously against those sweet spots. Toji Fushiguro had no relent - he had no mercy. 

Because he was promised another damn brat for his birthday, and he wanted one now. 

“N-now?” Your heart-eyes are bulging out, the trembly waver in your voice shrilling upwards after every drag of his balloony tip down the span of your elastic cervix. Oh, shit, did he say that out loud? Whoops. “Toji wh-what if it hasn’t ngh- taken yet-”

Toji’s cutting you off - urgent. Spitting, as if those mere words shouldn’t be spoken out loud. “Move that hand f’me-” Couldn’t even wait the few split-seconds it takes for you to shuffle your carefulling covering hand away before flinging it off with a rude swat. “-touch that lil’ bulge- ngh- wh-where I am. Feel me.”

Your fingerpads are shaky - unstable. Caressingly feeling for that riotous smooch of Toji’s bawling fat tip peppering tiny kisses onto your cervix. Your womb. 

The blood in your veins boil with sheer need at the rounded globular edge, pressing down hard in just the way you knew that would drive Toji wild. Making his weighty breeder balls flinch with a harsh thwack! “See? Feel that? How m’alllll up in that cute womb? Bold of you to think that you’ll fuuuuck- walk outta this bedroom not pregnant, mama.”

He was determined. Feral.

Every puncturing rut had your spine arching into the most perfect curvature on top of him. Your back pressing heatedly in a lecherous massage against his heated skin, so bumpy with every flexing ab and muscle. 

You couldn’t help but feel so…ruined. In the best way.

“I-is that a promise?” You’re craning your head over your shoulder, batting those tear-clung lashes in a way that makes Toji’s willowy eyes widen. Tongue pinpointing his sinful scar once his mouth waters. What a dangerous little thing you were. “Wan’ you allll inside, Toji—”

Yeah, dangerous alright.

“Can’t have it alllll inside if yer hngh- lettin’ this cunt drool.” You’re squealing when a few calloused pads of his strongly thick digits pry open your slobbering mouth agape. Letting your tongue loll out lazily for him to splatter a honeyed wad of saliva, “Tha’s what that hngh- filthy mouth gets.”

Before in the blink of an eye, he’s bullying a few free fingers between the pursed pucker of your sensitive folds until he was knuckle-deep. Rummaging out into the geysering orifices hidden against your melty walls, he’s knotting up the ribbony ropes of his creamy seed from trickling out. 

Can’t have his pretty girl wasting a single ounce, now. How could he?

“And for my cutely ovulating wife…” You could barely even hear him above the thundering plap! plap! plap! of skin-on-skin, in such a cottony state of mind that you just register when you’re being gifted with another quick stream of spit lacquering your tongue. “-ya get- this.”

And it wasn’t just the slewing volumes of spittle that your open jaw was being splattered with.

It was the way you were cumming - without even realizing. Without even registering the uncountable heaps upon heaps of edging whines that flood your mouth, vision sparking white hot.

“M’cumming-” you’re gasping out. One limping hand bravely rovering to clutch onto Toji’s sweat-slicked locks and pull, “M’cumming m’cumming- ah! Toji–”

“Yeah yeah, e-easy on the merchandise, doll.” He’s groaning, but you can almost catch the way that he swallows. The way that his heavy balls shift with purpose underneath that girthy base to squeeze. Pulling taut. “Jus’ s-sit still n’ let me breed this ngh! goooood fuckin’ pussy like the good girl ya are.”

With a shudder, you feel like you’re being split-apart - more so than you already were.

Head buzzing with fuzzy little explosions at the thudding splatter! of just about the nth glaze of his seed scouring your deepest gooping insides. You’re being covered over and over in every tiny ridge and sweet spot with whipped icings of his potent cum.

And you can feel it almost knocking at your womb, creamed globs of it sliiiiding all the way down your walls with a promise.

“God…” You feel so full. Like your rubbery cunt was inflated widely enough that you think you might just burst. 

He’s scoffing, “Toji works jus’ fine.” 

“S-so cocky-” Head swimming cockdrunkenly with every jerking grind up into you, he’s slinging out the filthiest driveling squelches! that halfway drown out your pretty noises. What a shame.

“Oi oi, shut up-” But not to you. Toji simply can’t help but laugh - and if you were in any better state of mind, you’d have huffed at the sheer audacity. Gleaming ivory teeth snagging down onto your tender earlobe, “-the h-heh…mother of my kids is talkin’.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Hubby material.

“Hands on the wall now, darling.” Nanami’s throaty order is spoken gently. Lovingly. But you knew better than to not listen - hastily planting your splayed-out hands onto the cool kitchen wall. “Good girl. Now gimme a little show.”

“Kentoooo-” That slutty arch of your back was almost embarrassing, and you’re sure that if it hadn’t been for the strong arm circled underneath your hips then you’d have been weakly collapsed on the floor. “J-jus’ put it in- already-”

“Shhhh- patience, my love.” Your dear husband is rewarding your pitiful whines with a sudden swat! right onto the jiggling mound of your ass. Tutting with every soothing squeeze of his massive palms, that glinting wedding ring cold against your stinging flesh. “Patience s’the number one trait a good parent should have.”

And he’s so proper. 

Or…at least it seems. 

Because those cracking whimpers spilling their way between your lips only make Nanami greedier. The slight tremble of your thighs when your teary slit douses the tile below with a sticky puddle of slick driving him wilder-

“I- I know-” you’re huffing, head craned with an oh-so-irresistible pout. “B-but a good parent should also be ngh- punctual.” 

Punctual? Nanami Kento was always punctual. 

To every date, every meeting, every appointment - everything but right now when he feels his swollen pink tip twitch at your smart little backtalk. Biting down on the hollowish insides of his cheek to keep that dark chuckling from slipping through.

“Hmmm…” Nanami’s letting his rich baritone drawl, perfectly knowing the way that it was enough to make your thighs squeeze together needily. He’s tapping a soft massage down your curved spine, “Let me think…you really think a good- hah- parent should be punctual, darlin’?”

“Mhm–”

“Y’know I always trust your judgement…”

And it’s so cute the way you can only nod and nod, babbling. “Y-yes. Please- Ken, need it- want it-”

Well then, if his wife says so. Right? 

You’re barely even given the time to fucking breathe in a steadying gulp of the heady air before whatever remnants of it are being fucked out of your lungs. 

Oh…this was a change.

Because there was something about the way that Nanami was shoveling all his long, solid inches into you with almost-reckless abandon. Something rough, something…carnal. 

Like every heaving breath had his poor sanity fraying. Guiding one hand to wrap around his hefting hilt and smear away your adhesive-like folds with the globular mountain of his mushroom tip, the other steadied at the bottom of your back to angle you bent even deeper-

The stretch.

Fuck, the stretch - Nanami was so big. His incredible girth bullying past that taut first ring of muscle and peaking up into those spots without even trying. So fully encompassing each and every hidden nook inside your gooey walls that you always end it wanting more more more- 

“Momma’s always gonna ngh- know best, hm?” Nanami’s hiccuping into your ear, flecks of golden blond sticking to his prespired skin and yours once he kisses away your cockdrunk splatters of dribble. “Awww, n-none of that hngh! drooling now, s’gonna make ya dehydrated n’ that’s not good for the baby, darlin’.”

You’re feeling a softened thumb glide along your lips to tenderly clean off the messy streaks of spittle. “Th-thank you, Ken-” Looking up at him with literal hearts for eyes, “-gonna be the best daddy.”

He was. He was going to make sure of it.

But hearing that from you? 

Shit, Nanami has to sneak down a pinch at the side of his muscular leg just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming or in heaven right this very moment. 

Pulpy surfaces of his toned thighs smushing up against your own, he’s finding himself bending ever-so-slightly a few degrees at the knee to lessen the burden on his poor wife’s legs. Making your ears ring with the filthy paps of his hip-bones ploughing vigorously into your ass. 

Bruising your skin, your cervix, your hips once one of his free hands scurry underneath you to take the pressure off of your ever-weakening hips. Crushing your back tightly against the rippling planes of his sculptured front.

And Nanami’s cooing gruffs come out scorching against the sensitive side of your ear, “C-can’t put too much ah- strain. S’not good for the b-baby…for my girls.”

Girls - not just one.

Nanami wanted two lil’ daughters that looked exactly like you, and loved you exactly as much as him. A blissful image of his little family drawing itself clearer and clearer with every smack! against the fat of your cervix. Tight. Close. 

“Gonna take c-care of ya-” He’s inching his bludgeoning tip to slobber a fat stripe down the door to your womb, accompanied by an innocently tender peck against the side of your forehead. “Reeeal good care. A-and then…”

“And then, Ken?” 

“Then- m’gonna-” You can only gasp when Nanami cranes his neck over to where your open palms are still positioned on the smooth wall. Glassy eyes ogling the twitch of the veins running down his throat when he’s placing a soft smooch right on your wedding ring, “-m’gonna marry ya all over again.”

Nanami Kento is sure that he’ll be renewing your vows every year. Every single week. Every single day - even after your daughters are born - perhaps if only you’d let him. If only you’d keep singing out his name in a sultry whine exactly the way you always do when you cum.

Head tumbling backwards with the sheer power of it, body wracking with boiling peaks of your high. Again and again and again-

“There we go, there- hngh- ready, my love.” He sounds so proud. So fucked. And you know you’re not imagining it when the rugged callouses of Nanami’s fingers dart around your throat to drag you into a steaming hot French kiss. One that left his weighty balls squeezing dangerously- “S’about to get…messy.”

�� GETO SUGURU - Baby SHOWER

“Oh shiiiiit, girl.” Geto’s rolling his eyes, softly rounded fingertips rovering down from its second-favorite position around your neck all the way down to his most favorite - smearing open your thoroughly stuffed pussy lips to pinch your puckering clit. Glazing his long five-inch digits with a treacly lamination of your translucent squirts. “Didn’t think you’d be so ngh- messy. S’this all f’me?”

Yes. yes, yes yes it was.

But you couldn’t mangle out the syllables right now - don’t think you had it in you to even try. Not with the way that he’s planting three sappy smacks! down your slobbering cunt. Snickering at the throaty little S-Suguruuu letting off from your lips-

“Ah ah- needy. Can’t even t-talk properly, huh?” And, fuck, was Suguru Geto ever-so-grateful that your copious amounts of orgasms tonight left you already fucked stupid. Because your saturated mind isn’t catching onto the way his rumbling baritone wobbles, the way he has to gulp before muttering. “Now, gimme a kiss. Heh, gimme a ngh- kiss n’ I might just cum inside to give you a little…daughter.” 

The only thing you’ve wanted for so long now. 

But Geto always did find you the cutest when you were teased. When you were split-open on his mean cock and whining for him to fill you up with each deeply vulgar stroke. It made him only want more. 

Made his palms stretch your jittery thighs even wider in his filthy little mating press, like a gooey little banquet for him. Pearly canines showing off in such a snarl when you’re lolling your head upwards to press a few drawling smooches against the corner of his pretty lips, “O-oops. I missed, Suguru.”

“Try again.” Well, he has to build up the patience for raising his future daughter somehow, right? 

Locking your ankles around that neck of his with only one strong arm, and the other grappling dexterously around your throat to drag you down. You’re being manhandled - unapologetically.

“But-”

“Again.”

“W-wan’ it insideee- wan’ a baby.” you’re squealing when his plummy cockhead spatters a few steaming hot dewdrops of pre against your poor cervix. Rutting out solid pound after pound. Each one making you desperately catch his chin, his jaw, his lips in a few drunken kisses. “Please, Sugu?”

Damn.

Damn that evil, evil nickname of yours. 

And he really can’t help but steal a greedy peak down at your drooling cunt, scoffing at the way he feels his parted maw slip through a few rivulets of drool at the fucking sinful sight. 

Your gummy pussy being molded wiiiidely open around his rummaging cock. Glossy rings upon rings of your sugary slick and his creamy pre being drenched upon every single inch that was bullied inside. Even more so when those bumpily inflated veins of his graze right against your forbidden sweet spots. 

And Geto couldn’t stop his light-headed bout of laughter, teasing. “Second opinion?”

It’s almost as if every battering ram had your overfilled pussy talking back to him. 

“C’mon- speak up.” He’s hastily swiping away the curtains of his silky black tresses sticking to his clammy forehead, yearning to hear those lecherous noises from below better. Before curling his engulfing palm once more around your delicate throat, “Not you- Oh? Mmmm-”  he’s huffing out, ears craning. “If you say so, girl.”

Not to mention that you hadn’t uttered a single word. 

But to Geto that didn’t matter, to him it was all he could do to nod along sappily as if having the most intriguing of conversations with your bulging cunt.

Nuzzling into the treasure trove of the crook of your neck, he’s gulping in your pheromones. Shuttering out hot puffs of words between every bludgeoning thrust, “Aren’t I so nice? Listenin’ ta what she says. Yer real lucky s’me fillin’ up this pretty ngh- pussy, gorgeous. Real lucky- because…”

“B-because- what?” You’re hissing, eyes decorating with puddles of oversensitive tears. They trek down your cheeks and make Geto groan once his ravenous tongue laps up every salty ounce. 

“Because when I breed you, m’gonna do it right.”

A promise. 

One he was already halfway through fulfilling if the way that Geto’s staggeringly full breeder balls were twitching against your slamming mounds of flesh told you anything. Urged you. Pushed and pulled with every mounted pump-

“G-gonna be all round and full, arent’cha, ngh- my gorgeous baby? Glowing?” And he was ruining the both of you. Brows marrying closer and closer with every cozy sheath, your clingy walls made his thickly swollen shaft just flood your spongy pulpy cervix with wiry ropes of precum. “Heavily pregnant?”

“Y-yeees-” Gaze heart-eyed and crossing diagonally together, you’re barely even noticing it when your dear lover rests his damp forehead against yours to pucker his lips and grace your tongue with a heavy wad of saliva. “Want it all, Suguru– a-all ngh- deep inside.”

“All?” He’s echoing, and something in his pupils amethyst pupils darken. Something in his voice hardens. Movements jittery and coated in a shimmer of awe when he strays one of your hands down to soothe over your tummy, “Sure ya e-even have the space? M’right-” Pressing down - hard - on that plump rotund tip of his driveling deeply down inside. “-here, y’know? Where our h-heh, daughter’s gonna be.”

Oh. Motioning out a lethargic nod, “All.”

Because Geto only lets his mind shatter for a split-second, his entire muscular body jolting. Fuck. You were going to be the fucking death of him.

Before giggling. Giggling. All drunk on your pussy and you, “Th-then- then, say it with me. Ngh- t-tell me you’re ready for the hah- biiiig stretch, gorgeous.”

“M-M’ready for-” Shit, so embarrassing even despite your barely-lucid state right now. “-the big stretch-”

“Uh uh- the biiiig stretch. Say it with me-”

Practically sobbing with need now - and your poor cunt wasn’t any different. You swear you could feel a sloshing pool of lewd juices forming right below you. “Fuck! Sugu- Suguru, m’ready for th-the ngh- biiig stretch.”

“Then…” he’s practically purring with delight. Ah, finally. “-fucking cum f’me, pretty momma.”

And when you do it’s riding upon the waves of his, too. 

Seeing white, the peaks of your now-fragile high being ruptured and dragged out with every sticky waterfall of Geto’s aqueous seed. 

Treacling into the narrow orifice of your sloppy hole, you could feel every swabbing ribbon slip and slide its way inside. Deeper and deeper every time Geto was fucking each voluminous ounce back in, in, in-

“Now now, what did I s-say…” Splattering out another sugarcoated douse of streaming spit onto your tongue, Geto is in no way shy about punishing your sopping wet slit with a resounding thwack! Tutting at the buttery white lipstain seeping from the corners of your puffed-up pussy and making such a filthy mess at his thickened base. “Look at all that ah- wasted. Mouthy pussy o’ yours said you could hah- take it all, but s’ like a shower.”

Your lips part when he’s pumping you doubly full with his relentless digits, shovelling back the velveteen slathers of his own seed back in. “Suguru…”

“Guess I jus’ hafta fuck ya full all over again.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Boys boys boys

“C-can you ah- hold my hand for this ngh! first time, baby?” He’s hiccuping out like a mantra - a prayer - after every sloppy peck of his ruddied tip onto your adhesive-like folds. Choso’s poor heart barely working up enough courage to dab a slow circle around your quivering entrance. 

And he didn’t know what to do. What to expect but…the only thing that mattered was that he had you.

“Awww, of course, Cho—” It makes him so fucking shy how your warmly cooing tone is all it takes for his achingly hard cock to twitch. Mind shattering into a zillion shards as one hand of yours sweetly laces with his, “No need to be- ah- nervous.”

It was unfair - it was so fucking unfair. 

You were driving Choso wild - absolutely feral with just a singular plap! of your rounded ass ricocheting down to ride your dear boyfriend free of his fucking soul. So tight. And…heavenly. 

He didn’t read anywhere online that it was supposed to feel this good. Curving your sultry birthing hips in lecherous little circular motions that have his dewey eyes battered in tears-

And that was the fucking problem. Your hips. Your cute cunt. You. 

“Fuh-fuck. So soft and warm…” Making him curdle out a few whining whimpers from between his plumped lips, puckering into an oh-so-cute pout as Choso bats his long lashes up at you. “Didn’t ah- didn’t know a p-pussy could feel so ah- good.”

He didn’t know what to do but let his slagging maw drool around where he was lathering the fleshy mounds of your tits with his syrupy saliva. Sucking. 

Neat brows knitting at the way there was no milk - didn’t that manual say humans produced- ah, not yet. Not unless…He could faintly feel something in the very back of his melty mind sparking. “B-baby…”

“Mhm?” And oh, you could get used to that tone. Seeping out into Choso’s prettily rumbling voice whenever he got just a tinge too pussydrunk. Babbling. “Cho– what h-have I ah! said about talking with your mouth full?”

Fuck- Choso didn’t even register what he was doing - register what you were saying. Roughened pads of his tastebuds gleaming down your nipples for a solid few seconds before he’s gurgling out, “I- I want…”

You’re humming. God, he was so pretty like this. Handsome features blushing strawberry red at your half-lidded gaze and the way your clingy walls were smooching his bloated, mushroomy tip so tight. You had no mercy. “Yeeees?”

“I want a son.”

Oh.

Oh.

And just as soon as that sodden little confession is spilling from his lips - tumbling out like he didn’t even mean to formulate the words - Choso sees white. And he feels it, too.

Feels himself lathering your gooey cunt in heaps upon heaps of his torrential cum. Dousing thick, creamy swabs that pinpoint all your most tender orifices for him to dig into. So hot. Heavy. Swashing around in slight treacles at your thoroughly opened insides like a gluey second skin. And the rut of his hips is so animalistic - up, up, up with every ounce of cursed power he has. 

Part of him knows he’s fucking pathetic to be cumming so early from just that - even if it was his first time.

But he doesn’t give a fuck.

Not when your pretty pussy had him seeing his future with you. Seeing stars - and you right there in the middle, holding onto a giggling bundle with his hair, and your eyes. 

Not when his calloused fingers are latching onto your waist like he was planning on never letting go. And Choso’s jaw simply drops at those velvety ribbons of milky white spattering from your drooly cunt and sliding down the ladder of washboard abs. 

You were clenching around him so cozily. So hypnotizingly. Perfect enough that…

Something snaps. 

“Oh god-” he’s gasping, eyes wide - wild. Slender digits carving out neat crescents so harshly against your perspiration-simmered skin. Entire body hunching to French kiss the valley between your tits, “Oh god oh god oh…god…s-s’not enough. It’s not- I-I don’t think it took. Need to- to get you pregnant, baby.”

Sounding so genuinely devastated. You’re shivering at the warm splat! of his big, pearly tears between your bodies - lower lip wobbling at that heavenly slight right in front of him.

Of course it wasn’t enough. And, right now, Choso thinks it never will be.

His pretty lips are just letting out intoxicated nonsense by now. And during times like this, you really forget just how strong your beloved boy is. 

How…greedy he is.

Because those electric aftershocks of his syrupy high had barely even passed. Barely even started to bate before he’s leveraging his superhuman strength to easily flip the two of you over. 

You’re being crushed pliantly and helplessly in half between those drenched navy bedsheets and his flexing muscles. 

Choso was just melting into you; saliva-glossed mouth slacking into a condensed kiss against your own, forehead desperate and feverishly hot resting against yours, big, beefy arms caging you in. 

You could feel that sappy thwack! of his tight, globular balls smearing against your ass once more. That split, peachy cockhead of his skates right down your headily sweltering walls to gift a puckered snog against your cervix. And another. And one more. And just one more-

“H-hey…come back t’me.” He’s huffing out in lethargic little pants, palms clasping onto the crown of your head and pushing you down. Down. Down. Filling you up with his girthy cylindrical shaft until you were fucked stupid. He’s begging, “Hear me out- no zoning out, m’kay? Need you ta g–give me a baby, m’kay, baby?”

And despite the broken pleas that were flooding into his mouth, you couldn’t do anything against the way that Choso’s body was pinning yours down with hungry pound after pound. Fuck- is this what they say? About losing control? About…baby fever?

God, the thought is enough for him to curl his hips sleazily backwards until you’re squirming. Letting the fountain of opaquely milky seed gush! down your inner thighs with the wettest of squelches. They ring saturatedly in Choso’s ears like his favorite song-

Well, it was his favorite song now. 

“Your hah- lil’ human womb s’gonna be so full- s-so cute.” Taking his time filling you back inch by inch. Choso’s button nose crinkles at the sight bouncy recoil against the spongy ends of your pussy. He can’t part from you - not even that. Doesn’t want to. Leaving kiss after kiss on your jiggling tits, sucking. “Need these f-filled. Need a son- m-my son. Gonna be the beeeest momma mhm- with the sweetest milk.”

A few sneaky set of his lips droop to your puffed-up nipples and bite almost mindlessly. Lacquering a heavy layer of spittle as Choso sucks like his favorite gummy candy.

And the way you arch your back into a perfectly slutty curvature to glissade your fatigued body against his sculpted front has Choso gaping. Has his eyes spying down at the bloated outline of himself inside you, nuzzling one mountainous palm. “A-and…ngh- daughter s’good too actually…maybe both. Maybe- maybe I just- jus’ really wan- need you.”

An uncharacteristically smug grin plasters all over his face at the way your mouth pouts, “B-boy or girl, Cho?”

Choso’s shivering. Aching with that red-hot depravation coiling at the bottom of his stomach to fill you up more and more and more- “Five boys- n’ one ngh- girl- all of ‘em with your pretty smile. You…you’re gonna g-give me that, right, ma’am?” 

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - 1000 Yr. DILF?!

“Cummin’ on my cock again? Makin’ such a damn mess.” And anyone would recognize that disapproving tut wafting sternly from between the King of Curses’ lips, anyone would fall completely to their knees. “This yer hah- first time bein’ bred or what, girl?”

Except for you.

You’re not sure you could even if you wanted to.

Because Ryomen Sukuna had you all over him like his absolute favorite doll - your boneless limbs hanging on for dear life in this rude standing nelson he’d manhandled you into. His favorite. 

One out of four of his massive palms splay out greedily onto the crown of your head, teasingly indenting the sharp corners of his black fingernails into your scalp. Dragging you to bear your droopy eyes into that cracked floor-length mirror at the very ends of his royal chamber. 

“Oh riiight-” He’s rolling his eyes, hips bucking up to overstuff you full of his bloated shafts. And through the ever-so-slightly cracked lids of your own, you can spy his sleazing grin. “-it is.”

“K-Kuna Kunaaa-” Your mouth just can’t stop squealing it out like your own personal mantra, limp legs dangling in midair with every sloppy slap! of his dual lengths. You’ve never felt so…blissfully helpless. “I-inside. I need you inside-”

“M’already inside, woman.” Fuck- you were so cute when you got all stupidly cockdrunk like this. But it’s not like Sukuna was going to admit that, instead covering up for the roughened hitch of his breath with a snicker. Second free hand gifting a punishing swat! onto your clit. One. Two. Three. “Only thing tha’s not inside ya yet is my heir. Yet. Seriously- that fuckin’ ngh- greedy for me t-ta fill ya up till yer overspillin’ or what?”

And you can only nod. Nod and nod and nod while buttery scoops of his glossy pre sprayed all over your g-spot, your cervix, everywhere and anywhere. 

Sukuna was leaving no crevice and sweet-spot unturned, the matchingly staggering sizes snugly barreling inside you until you were spellbound. And it really didn’t make him soothe his pace to be even just a bit more merciful the way those near-thirteen inches made your tummy swell. 

Bloated up with such mouth-watering abandon. Just like it would if you were…

“...pregnant.” Oh, that word is leaving Sukuna with more of a whine than he intended. Hips snagging upwards to peak the lightning bolts of his thumping veins salaciously down the side of your g-spot. “A c-cute lil’ cunt like this is how yer gonna end up ngh- pregnant.”

Listen, he’s not one to get all stupidly sentimental.

But your heavenly pussy was just plaguing him with rosy visions of you and a lil’ gremlin to call your own. With pink hair and that stupid, stupid smug grin that was stolen undeniably from his genes. Dammit. 

Who said you could make him feel all…mushy. He should have you charged with treason for this.

And, well, of course this was Ryomen Sukuna’s favorite position.

Of course, he’s taking that absolutely blasphemous advantage to let the second oversized tongue split apart his abs slosh outwards. 

Slithering muscle careening its snailing pathway down your teary pussylips, lapping up ounces upon ounces of syrupy slick. Before twirling around and around that plump button of your clit. And it was so…filthy, it made you squirm. 

“S-s’dirty…” You’re throwing your head back into the cushiony valley of his toned pecs in a frenzy, electric bolts of pleasure sprinting down your spine with every wet thwack! emanating from down below. Though, you weren’t complaining. You really, really weren’t complaining. “Kuna…”

And- fuck. You should’ve known.

Should’ve realized that letting your mouth smear dangerously open to echo out your whines would result in the devilish curse spitting a wet splatter right at the corner of your pouty lips.

And Ryomen Sukuna had perfect aim - he had the perfect ability to make this ordeal as neat as possible. 

But where was the fun in that?

You were just so adorable with your saliva-slicked lips wobbling open, jolting at the terrorizing scrape of his overgrown nails smearing away the pools of delirious dribble. Gently. 

“Dirty? Hah! Wha’s real hngh- dirty s’this pretty pussy in ovulation. Look.” He’s grunting out, and before you know it you’re being nudged even closer towards that ancient mirror. Fully drinking in the way that Sukuna was filling you up, the way that you were taking him. Chest heaving you up and down as he swallows in a deep inhale, “Can fuckin’ smell it on you- heh, my favorite time of the month. Has you beggin’ f’me to fuck you full with my seed? To give you an heir, huh?”

You were.

Throat scratching out the tiniest of pleas that you don’t even register slipping through your lips - but Sukuna could. He yearns for them. 

Feels them stir up the heated depths of his rounded breeder balls when they stick against your ass after every tireless pap! Your hands crane around to claw useless into those bulging deltoids of his-

“Oi, where’d ya think yer scratchin’? Trynna run?” Preposterous. As if you could ever run away from him - from the bruising smooches that Sukuna was leaving down every elastic inch inside your goopy depths. Sopping. Sodden French kisses. “Or…” Tongue gliding down his bared canines, other tongue leaving a sappy plap! of a touch onto your peaked clit. “...or is it that momma here is gonna heh- cum?”

“C-cum-” Fighting to strangle out - as if you needed to, in the first place. You didn’t, but you were just so endearing like this. “-gonna cum- ngh- gonna- gonna-”

“A-after that, ya better fuckin’ make me a daddy.” 

And if this was any other time then Sukuna would have mocked your pitchy whines. Lilted his growling baritone to taunt you as you fell apart. 

But he couldn’t - because he wasn’t doing any better. 

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck, so fucking embarrassing how the clingy embrace of your sopping walls clamping around his bloated lengths was enough to make him cum. Him. The all-powerful King of Curses at your utter mercy. 

Those split, bawling divots of his splurging out seedy strings of pearly white, decorating your sloshing insides until it felt too heavy. Too tight. 

Voluminous masses of his cum settling deep at the goopy depths of your pussy - and Sukuna always had so much to give. A smirk plastering all over his face once the sensitive undersides of his cocks brush up against one another. 

Twitching to pry your gluey walls wide open enough to let a few thickly viscous dollops of seed frost your puffed-up pussy lips. Lips that his second mouth can’t help but kiss to clean up-

“Tch…such a damn mess.” You’re hearing ring inside our cottony brain from somewhere above, still short-circuiting blissfully. “But yer my mess, huh, Queen of Curses?”

♡ INO TAKUMA - “W-woah…”

Ino can’t stop himself - he can’t fucking shut up.

Pathetically drawling words tumbling out with every slight translucent sliver of fucking drool. With every pussydrunkenly content sigh that escapes him once he’s sinking back and forth past your tender entrance. “Atttta girl, th-this is the life…”

And, in fact, Ino can see his life with you when you’re on all fours and milking him so prettily like this. Especially when you’re like this.

He can see just how much prettier you’d look round and glowing and round- Filled to the brim with all of him until you pop out a cute lil’ boy with his eyes and your smile…or two boys…or three.

Ino can’t help but flex his wracking body forwards until you’re being absolutely crushed with the weight of all his slender muscles. Every plunging bump of his ruddy pink cockhead swirling into your most precious treasure trove of sweet spots. And the way your dewy eyes veer crossed with every one of his bludgeoning rams is so cute-

“P-pretty…” And he doesn’t mean it just as that cute lil’ nickname for you. Plumply puckered lips punching sweet little pecks down the pearlescent beads of perspiration at your forehead, “Wh-what do you think about taking ngh- us to the h-heh..next step.”

And, fuck- that should’ve been an inside thought.

That was supposed to have been something he kept to the confines of his sugarcoated brain. 

But when you’re flashing a simpering curl of your lips like that, then he can’t stop himself from letting his angry cock twitch. Bursting with spattering showers of his scorching pre that make an easy trailway for Ino’s bulging shaft to slip and slide easily deeper. “N-next step?”

“Mhm–” Fuck it. He spits onto the curvaceous pads of his fingertips, gliding to nuzzle your swollen clit. Tugging on the hood of that sensitive nub in a way that makes you see stars. “The next step.”

“Engagement?”

“Nuh uh-”

“Marriage?”

“No, silly girl.” Letting off a few sickly sweet swats at your buzzing clit, he’s snickering at the way that makes your spine arch. Lips sleazing up a few kisses right down the middle, “M’talkin’ kids. M’sayin’ I wanna breed ya- knock ya up f-fuck I need to-”

And you’re so addicted to just how needy he is. 

A bout of light-headed giggles making its way from between your slackened lips, that sound enough to make him huff out a pout and shovel a few solid inches even meaner. You’re mumbling out, “Th-that pussydrunk, Taku—?”

“Sh-shut up.” He’s grumbling, dousing his dextrous digits with a few candied slathers - for only a split-second before stuffing them into the slobbering orifice of your mouth. Making you taste yourself. Taste him. “Shut up when I’ve- ngh! g-got my cock kissin’ yer pretty cervix, sweetness.”

And it was true. 

As if to make sure you don’t underestimate how serious he is - how ready he was right now - Ino’s trekking up one of his feet to plant right on the top of your head. 

Pressurizing with that strengthened weight to shovel your face deeper and deeper into the pillowcase. Completely soaked with waterfalling layers of your saliva, only growing more drenched with every battered ram of his pulpy peach crownhead into that g-spot.

“Ngh- Taku-” Your fingers grapple hastily towards the creakily singing mahogany headboard, clenching. Moaning wantonly, “Taku- baby– fuck! Jus’ like that.” 

“I know I know.” And he honestly doesn’t know how he finds it in himself to fucking roll his half-lidded eyes, all pretty white teeth bared in such a snarl. “Wanna milk me, huh? Take me fuckin’ cock n’ f-fuuuck gimme a ngh- son or two…” Mumbling, “...or three.”

Three. 

Three. 

Fuck.

It’s just about all you can do to weakly buck your hips in an attempt - an attempt - to meet his sloppy cadence. Nudging your hips up in sultry little gyrations that Ino is sure hypnotizes him.

And you can’t even blame him because you’re much the same-

“Wan’ it-” you’re muffling out into the silken fabrics, that awestruck expression on Ino’s face so cute that you’re gifting him with a long few sucks on his greedy tongue. Tasting him like your very favorite lolly, “O-one or two- ah! Want you to f-fill me up-” And he’s so tender interlacing his fingers with your own, letting you guide them up to your still-empty tummy and press. “-right here.”

You didn’t have to tell Ino Takuma twice. 

“Shit- shit.” He’s gruffing out, mere moments before you feel his sharpened canines dig into the delicate crook of your neck. Hard enough to break skin-

Nothing more until he’s letting his sobbing divot burst out in stealthy ribbons upon ribbons of cum - already. Drawing out his initials into your rubbery cervix as much as he can over and over. 

Ragged moans tearing into whines at just how blissful it felt, how embarrassing it was that he’s reaching his high just from a few of your words. 

“M’sorry I-I-” Ino nuzzles the neat circle of his teethmarks, smearing the roughened pads of his tastebuds along those oversensitive indentations. That slight tinge of pleasurable pain making your gripping walls squeeze, and Ino hisses. “-actually- fuck! M’not sorry ngh- not sorry ta breed this ngh tiiiight cunt.”

You’re humming once one set of fingers loop your neck to drag you into every shuddering grind. Pumping your tight channel fuller and fuller with creamy swashes of cum, “G-gettin’ really cocky, aren’tcha, baby?”

“Only for you.” He tuts, “Gotta h-hope our ah- two sons don’t get my personality, huh?”

“Three, remember?”

Oh.

Oh? 

“Can you…” Ino’s whispering, throat ragged and raw. Gazing droopily gluing together with tears and utter heart-eyes when he’s babbling onwards, “...can you marry me, pretty?”

♡ GOJO SATORU - SIX EYES

“Sweetheart…sweetheart-” Gojo’s voice comes out in more of a rasping growl than anything else, and it’s just as fitting that he’s latching his pearly whites onto your throat to help drag you down, down, down. “Dammit…you’ve gotta s-stop movin’ around so much n’ just ngh- Take it take it take it take- it-” 

Take it you were - for the past few hours now, in fact.

And the electricity was already out in every ward of Tokyo, your bed was already splintered and useless. 

But Gojo’s heavy cock was still sputtering out rummaging swab after swab into you right then and there on your bedroom floor. Leaving creamy remnants of cum glissading down your insides everywhere. Anywhere.

Fuck - he came again.

Gojo can barely blink his eyes open to admire the traces of gooey white that made their home inside your sweltering hot pussy. Good, he’s stuffing back that soppy puddles forming at the ends of your puckered crease, very good.

“W-was told m’Christmas gift would be ngh- you all round n’ pregnant-” he’s whining in a sickly syrupy tone against your ear. And you’re catching the way that Gojo’s gummy pink lips curl into a pout, “So we’ve gotta start early.”

Shit- you didn’t know what to expect telling Gojo that you were…ready. 

But it certainly wasn’t for the famed strongest to lose his goddamn mind, for him to lock one beefy bicep around the small of your middle and drag you like some glorified ragdoll to meet his determined mating press. 

“T-talk t’me pretty momma–” He’s plastering his body all over yours, greedily sucking up every ounce of space you own. It was his space now. Just like this was his pretty pussy that he was breeding.

“Satoru—” Your fatigued fingers cradle the side of his handsome face, motioning to scrape across Gojo’s cloudy tufts of white in a way that makes him purr. That makes his overworked cockhead douse your heated cunt with copiously thick dredges of pre. Perhaps even tiny wisping ribbons of cum. Just from that. “H-how are you still…”

Honestly, you didn’t even have to ask.

Because even through your bleary heart-eyes, you’re catching the way that his narrowed eyes bolt with miniscule flickers of bright blue lightning. Zapping with cursed energy as they droop drunkenly half-lidded, “H-heh…perks of bein’ ngh- fucked by the honored one, girlie.”

But the one ruined here was him.

Every warm lacquer of his own treacly seed swirling and sloshing against his shaft with every jittery rut. The weepy swipe of his peach-pink tip has Gojo’s fuzzy mind blanking. Feverish ounces of blood making his bludgeoning cock swell fatter and fatter-

“Sh-shit…” Gojo’s maw spills open, watery eyes of sapphire sprinting all the way to the very back of his lid. Only to be greeted with visions of stars and you, you you - all round and…pregnant. Fuck, he needed this bad. “Dammit dammit- dammit! Think m’gonna cum–”

You’re nodding, “Cum f’me, Toru– D-don’t miss.”

As if he would ever miss.

“Damn- how filthy.” He’s grinning, “Could cum from j-just that, y’know?”

But if you noticed the urging tease in his words then you don’t snap back - you can’t. Making the towering man himself let out a low whistle, “Oh? No mockin’? Shiiit- that fucked dumb, huh?”

And you really shouldn’t be surprised when the stilted atoms in the air seem to freeze around you two. Everything tight and stuffy with the use of cursed energy as Gojo’s activating his six eyes, glowing eyes eagerly feeding down upon- oh.

You can’t help but let out little whimpers at the bzzzzz–! of jujutsu when he’s skimming a few six-inch fingers down your tummy. Down, down, down like he could see through-

“Hmmm, right on time-” Gojo’s chuckling - and there’s something else that’s utterly dark tinting his sing-song voice. Something…dangerous. This really was the strongest. “-yer ovulatin’ right now heh- this one’s gonna be th-the ngh! one.”

“Wh-what?”

“My daughter and my son- duh, my silly girl.”

Fuck, what?

Only being able to gape at the lustrous sheen of drool flooding from between his grinning lips. Snowy brows raising the longer Gojo’s gaze locked right where your womb was. He was so fucking eager. 

Barely even realizing what he’s doing - whether he’s even using his powers - when resting your boneless legs on top of two strong forearms. You could feel the flex of his muscles underneath your flesh as Gojo unabashedly and unapologetically cracks your legs even further open.

His own personal buffet. 

Vicious thrusts ruining the syrupy harmony inside, “Not gonna miss- never g-gonna miss f’it’s ta ngh- make my cute lil’ twins, m’kay, my girl?” Patting at your inflationary cylindrical outline, “Gotta s-safe space riiiight here s-so just-”And you keen when a fat fingerpad lathered in vibrating jujutsu thumbs over your clit. “-cum.”

And you were more than happy to.

To let that tautly pulled string of yours burst to fall right over the edge. You’re cumming with Gojo’s mouth on yours and his swollen tip French kissing your bruised and battered g-spot. Marking out permanent indentations of his girthy circumference. 

“Thereeee we go-” He’s giggling - giggling. Limitless long since flickered off to let your nails drag their red, red patterns down his Herculean back muscles. “Mhm- Toru’s here. Tha’s right, h-hngh! hold on wh-when ah, fuck- Toru here fills ya up…”

And it was much more than just filling you up. 

Because it’s like Gojo was trying to flood your poor insides, his cock hitting in a sappy thwack! against the rubbery end of your cervix to glaze out thick wiry bursts of cum. Again. And again. And again and again and again- because he couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to.

“Take it- oh, take it.” He’s breathing out, heaving right into your open mouth. Perhaps if you were in any better state of mind you’d have noticed the way the furniture jitters, moves. Reeling into the magnetic field that was Gojo Satoru and his six eyes bumping into overdrive. “Can see it- hehhhh– My good fuckin’ girl milkin’ every inch of me. Just look at h-how you have the ngh- strongest. On his fucking knees…”

But Gojo didn’t mind - not one bit as his creamy dabs slipped and slided to stain your pussylips a glossy white. Pretty pinkish balls squeezing out a weighty few wads of sap before he’s whimpering. Yes, whimpering, “Ngh- I c-can tell the ah- first s’gonna be a girl…my cute daughter- gonna be as ah- pretty as her momma. And my son- heh, total momma’s boy.”

Just babbling right now - begging and begging for you to take even more with his hips fucking you powerfully full. 

“Sweetheart…” Gojo’s eventually piping up over those ringing squelches, oversensitive eyes fluttered firmly shut. 

“Hm?”

“Yer gonna be such a fuckin’ MILF.”

♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - Pony.

“Ride it, angel-” Higuruma knows he should let his poor girl take it easy, he knows he should wipe that filthily sleazy grin off of his face when your hips stutter even harder down all of his mean inches. “-I said ride it- ride me. P-put those hips to work now like a good girl f’me.”

And you were.

You couldn’t stop - not when your babyfever was at an all time high. 

Barely even letting your poor husband walk two steps past the front door from work, barely even letting him take off his sexy office suit before burying his swollen cockhead deep past your sappy folds. Needing him. 

You were leaving needy smooch after smooch of your glossy folds on the neatly trimmed happy trail down his washboard abs for what seemed like hours now. 

But it still wasn’t enough. Still. Your mouth aching for the same kiss-

You’re wrapping your fingers around the silken fabric of his tie to haul him even closer. “Wan’ a k-kiss, Hiromi–” His pretty first name dripping from your tongue like a prayer, and the way that only makes him gulp has your velvety orifice spraying out a sodden rivulet of treacly slick. 

“A kiss?” Higuruma’s batting his dark lashes teasingly, the corners of his mouth turning upwards into a simpering smile that only you had the privilege of ever seeing. Your glissading body gets easily pulled into his with a hefty arm wrapping around your waist, head tilting upwards. Close. “Really think ya deserve a hah- kiss, my slutty girl?”

“Y-yes–” Your hips are swerving in languid gyrations to swallow everything that Higuruma has to offer. To let your depraved walls cling onto the heated girth of him tight enough that it’s almost as if you were trying to permanently imprint every one of his bloated ridges, every vein, every thwack! against your plush walls. “W-won’t you give the ah- mother of your kids a k-kiss, Hiro?”

Oh.

Oh…

Higuruma’s dewy eyes are snapping open, jaw loosening with raw shock and something…carnal. You really were made for him - you clever, clever woman.

“So…” He’s quirking up a stern dark brow, and suddenly you’re reminded why so many find your attractive husband so intimidating. “A kiss, huh?”

Clasping one of your wrists to place a long peck against the back of your hand - it’s so gentlemanly. So tender. “How about this for a hah- kiss? Or…” The complete opposite of the way that Higuruma’s hips were bucking uncontrollably up, up, up - breaking through your steady tempo to plant a thorough clash of his mushroomed tip against your cervix. Sneaking in a loooong drag right down the middle to make sure that you’ll feel him puckering up there for days. Weeks. “-how about this?”

Fuck.

He was so mean.

Cackling out at your huffing and puffing, “S-so rude- Ngh- I take it back, don’t want ya to b-breed-”

“Awww, don’ say that my pretty lil’ wife-” The mahogany bedframe sings out protesting creaks when he plants his feet onto the cushiony mattress, driving his scouring crownhead into you lazily. Mazing through those gluey walls of yours to wrench out tiny squeals as he easily takes over. “Don’tcha know how hck! badly I wan’ my own lil’ family. A lil’ daughter.” One hand tugging on the tie that was still dangling haphazardly from his neck, “You jus’ hafta- hah- sit there all p-pretty and take it. Let me fuck ya full, tha’s all…”

That’s all but it felt like anything but. 

Because Higuruma was no stranger to letting his speed pick up as dirtily as he wished, pounding into the tight crevices of your gummy hole until you felt like you were molding to his exact circumference. 

“H-hate how you always know what to- ah!” He doesn’t even let you finish your half-heated sentence, letting your hands rest precariously on the broad deltoids of his shoulders. Because you felt so weak.

“Mhmm— love you, too, angel.”

He knew exactly how to ruin you.

Tweaking a few fingers over to rub that silvery sheen of your sweet, sweet juices taking over the sensitive nub of your clit. Flicking at where you were the most tender with one index, he mutters, “Heh- cute.” Before tap! tap! tapping your gorgeous tummy - oh, how he loved every part of you. Every part of here that he’d make sure grows full…glowing with his kid. “S’bout time I ngh- filled ya riiiight here. Must be feelin’ awful empty, huh?”

Glazed eyes of yours latching onto his, “Yes- fuck- f-feels so lonely without ya.” Shit, those babbles were affecting Higuruma more than he’d like to admit. More than he wanted but- really, he couldn’t complain. He was addicted. “Want you to c-cum in me. Okay, Hiromi?”

Higuruma can only titter, “Yes, ma’am.”

And when he does - when he finally, finally does with a few vicious strokes plummeting against your most mushy spots - it’s so much that whatever shredded rationality left in you seriously wonders about your little request.

“G-gonna gimme a ngh- daughter, right?” Feeling the hot trickle of Higuruma’s cum showering your inner thighs, buttery globs of pearlescent white drooling from your pussy lips. “Lemme p-play hah- barbies with her. Lemme teach her to have one h-hell of a smart mouth like her parents.” Talking up to him in saturated squelches with every drilling plap! up into your overspilling pussy. “Teach her ta be as sweet as her momma.”

He was daydreaming. Eyes slipping dangerously closed with each stubborn dab of seed pushed into your womb. 

And you’re running your fingers through his now-disheveled slick-back, “S-sounds amazing, baby–”

“Yeah?  This ‘nough?” He’s groaning against your jaw, your throat. Needy and clingy - just the way that he can’t help getting at the honeyed slosh of his seed inside you. “Take it- take it, okay? Shiiit ya got even tighter- S’allll yours ta milk and…and…” 

“And- ah! what, baby?”

Peck after peck until, finally, against your lips, you hear- “And, if ya take it all like a good girl n’ I’ll let ya hngh! ride my nose next, angel.”

A/N. Hope y’all have a lovely week!!

Plagiarism not authorized.

[bi-writes]

there's only one rule with them--you have to be included, lest you give simon those big eyes that he absolutely fucking despises. (ghoap x f!reader, 18+)

you can't help it, really. you like being the center of attention. no--you need to be the center of attention.

their attention.

even when you're too fucked out to go any longer, someone has to be paying attention to you. simon has found that even when he's too occupied making johnny's eyes roll back in his head, a firm hand tangled in your hair is enough to keep you smiling all lopsided and ooey-gooey warm. a thumb in your mouth, lips against your temple, just a soft touch is good enough to keep you from blinking up at simon all wet and soft-like.

simon even found out that you have a sixth-sense for knowing if simon touched his sergeant when they were deployed. coming through the door, just seeing them, that pretty bottom lip trembling when you meet johnny's eyes because you just know something happened without you.

it's not that you're jealous. it's not that you don't approve. simon knows you're just so delicate. so sweet. you want to be included and noticed, because no one ever had noticed you at all before them, and you just hate feeling left out. you want to know everything about them, and when something happens without you, you feel like you're missing a special piece of them, and it makes your heart drop into your stomach.

"none of tha'," simon says lowly when he sees your eyes well up, all watery and big.

"i'm sorry--" you whine. it takes johnny between your thighs for a full hour before simon sees you crack a smile again.

simon comes up with a nice solution. he doesn't want to see his perfect girl upset anymore. he won't have it any longer. it isn't allowed.

you put the phone to your ear. it's late, and you're a bit sleepy, but with the ringer on full volume, you're always ready to answer the phone.

"h-hello?"

"'ello, baby." your eyes flutter open at the sound of simon's low drawl, and you giggle sleepily. "oi, wot's so funny?"

"nothing," you whisper. "i miss you."

"i miss you more," simon hums. you hear shuffling in the background, a grunt accompanied by a hiss. "say 'ello to our pretty kitty, johnny."

there's some static, and then you hear panting. a gargled cry sounds, one you recognize, and you grip the phone tight as you stare up at the ceiling. you roll over in a bed that's much too big for just you, and you whine a little.

"j-johnny?"

"fuck--ngghh--'m thinkin' aboot yer pussy, bonnie, lemme 'ear it."

you squeeze your thighs together on instinct. you reach for the pillow next to you, the one that still smells like simon, and you bury your nose into it and whine when you hear the distinct sound of skin slapping against skin.

"lemme 'ear it, willnae come unless--"

"johnny," you mewl, sticking your hand under the shirt you wear. it's simon's (the only shirt that fits over your tits), but you're bare underneath, so it takes you no time at all to break open your thighs and stick your hand between your folds. you don't even go for foreplay; there's no need. you are wet enough to dip your fingers just barely into yourself, scooping up a nice amount of slick and spreading it around, frantic enough that when you put the phone on speaker, the slip, slip, slip of your fingers is audible on the other end.

"och--si, she's...aye, she's soaking."

"tha's my girl."

"come...g-gonna come," you stutter, and johnny groans.

"need ye on my face, kitty cat," he pants, "lemme 'ear, closer, bonnie, get me closer--"

you lower the phone down your body, moving your fingers faster, your toes curling as you arch your back and listen to the wet smack, smack, smack of what you know is simon putting his fucking back into it. his groans follow the movements. simon is always a little rougher with his sergeant, always murmuring about how he can take it, not so sweet like our daisy baby.

"coming!" you gasp, and you press the heel of your hand against your clit as you breathe through your orgasm. so fast this time, hitting you from your toes and traveling all the way up, until your nipples pebble and your heart hammers. you bring the phone back up and bask in the glow of it, giggling dreamily as you listen to simon absolutely ruin your sergeant. skin on skin, nasty grunts and filthy curses, hissing and the sounds of things falling over and breaking. you pocket it for later and memorize it now, cooing softly when you know johnny is close.

you talk him until you hear him come, and then you tell simon to eat it off his gloved fingers for you.

"goodnight, kitty cat."

you smile.

"goodnight."

when they come home again, there you are, seated in the kitchen, all big smiles and soft eyes. simon touches a finger under your chin, and you blink up at him.

"olright?" simon asks, and you nod, picking up his other hand to kiss his knuckles.

"perfect."

[ssweetleaf]

babies.

husband!steve harrington x wife!reader

summary: you finally tell steve that you’re ready for a baby.

includes: SMUT 18+, breeding kink, not really a daddy kink but he refers to himself as daddy lol, mating press, creampie, unprotected p in v

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

“Hang on— what did you say?”

Steve felt as if he was dreaming, completely delirious, struggling to stay on his feet when his knees started to buckle.

He clutched a quivering palm to his chest, as if in attempt to quell his heart, but nothing could sate the thick thumping that barrelled through his rib cage.

You smiled at him, a small, impish one that made his eyelids flutter and you stepped closer, smoothing your hands along his shoulders before resting upon the thickness of both biceps, squeezing only slightly— just for your benefit, of course.

You knew it was something he’d desperately wanted to hear for a long while, so you spoke slowly, hoping the few words you spoke would register properly.

Because this was real. Such a big step, something that Steve had always dreamt of, but you not quite. It took a good few years for you to succumb to the idea of raising kids; a pretty house and a small wedding— even a few cats roamed around your home, so you knew that something was missing, something you now wanted desperately in your life.

“I want to try for a baby, Steve.” You spoke, watching his doe eyes grow even rounder, little tears threatening to ebb while he felt all melty and gooey, moving forward to shakily cup your cheeks and bring you closer towards him.

Steve nuzzled his nose against yours, sighing out a big breath and sponging a sweet, chaste little kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“I don’t know what to say, honey, I’m—” he shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut, his thumbs lazily circling the apples of your cheeks. “I’m so fucking happy.”

—

So, the two of you fucked like rabbits— for hours and hours, multiple times a day, the mere feeling of his raw length inside you had you creaming around him in minutes, and it was much akin for Steve, the soft, gummy walls of your cunt squeezing around him with no barrier between the two of you.

It felt like heaven.

Steve had insisted that you both have sex as regular as you could, the need to have you pregnant, to make it stick, needed to be quenched, and you nodded along like the doting little wife you were.

“My pretty honey,” he cooed, pressing your knees firmly against your heaving chest, holding you in a mating press whilst he fucked his thick cock into your spasming pussy.

Sweat beaded along his hairline, breathless from his hard thrusts— he had already came inside of you three times that same day, however you knew he wouldn’t let up until he saw those two red lines that told him what he’d wanted to hear.

“Gotta give you my babies, don’t I, hon?” He uttered, moaning breathily into the stuffy air— his full, round balls smacking against your ass with every inward thrust, so full of cum and ready to breed. “Gotta be thorough now, baby— want you nice ‘n’ round.”

He was babbling, words slurring into something almost nonsensical— his pretty lips sponged at any piece of skin he could find, mouthing and suckling with a desperation that shone in his honeyed eyes.

Your pussy practically sucked him in, letting his ruddy tip nudge at the spot so deep inside you, that had you clenching and fluttering.

“Fuck, jus’ wanna be a daddy so bad,” he whined, “and once we have our first, we’ll have another, and another, and another— oh fuck.”

He was fisting the pillow underneath your head, muscles drawn tight, trying so hard to keep his eyes open and not let them flutter closed— trying hard to keep his eyes on you.

“But don’t worry, honey baby,” he sighed with a smile, still thrusting as deep as he could, his thumb moving to rub at your clit. “You’ll still be daddy’s best girl— daddy’s favourite, I’ll make sure of it.”

You whined. He was so filthy, so crude, as soon as his big dick would slip inside of you he’d be gone, so stupid, completely pussy drunk. Silly boy.

“You ready for it, hon?” He cooed, nuzzling his nose into your cheek, “ready for my cum, pretty girl?”

You nodded, uttering a small ‘yes, Stevie’ through a moan and a sigh, clenching hard and quivering around him, ready to cum yourself.

The sheer need to be filled had you delirious.

“Yeah, gonna fill you up— gonna put a sweet baby in that pretty tummy of yours,” he hummed, “that sound good?”

“Sounds s’good, Stevie,” you whined, struggling to keep hold of your legs, your limbs shaky when you tried to keep your knees pressed against you. “Wan’ it so bad, want your cum— want your babies.”

He nodded fervently, hair whipping in every which way, dick throbbing in you hotly, the taut veins pulsing with every inward thrust— so, so close and ready to burst.

“I know ya do, hon— you ready to take it? You ready to take another load, baby?” He whined, squeezing his eyes shut, thrusts turning sloppy and erratic, “I know you’re so full, can barely fit anymore cum inside this poor pussy, huh?”

“Can take it, Stevie,” you spoke, fluttering your lashes, your lips all pouty and pink, “promise.”

And with one, two, three thrusts, he stilled inside of you, so deep, tip kissing your cervix before shooting his thick, pearly ropes of cum inside you, hoping to fill you with his Harrington prodigy, to make all the babies he could wish for.

Steve kept your legs raised, pulling them from your chest to place above his shoulders, keeping your back arched.

“Gotta make sure it takes,” he whispered, stroking at your calf before pressing a little kiss to your ankle. “think this is the one, honey.”

[arminsumi]

Hi! Could i request Sukuna with CHERRY + STRAWBERRY SYRUP + WHIPPED CREAM pls

🧎‍♀️ 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

Filming on shoot with your co-star Sukuna Ryomen, you totally go off-script and work overtime 'cause he fucks you a little too good.

ㅤ★ promptlist

ㅤ★ cws; strictly NOT for under 18s — please consume content online responsibly, explicit smut, Sukuna & reader are both 🌽⭐ being filmed on set, breeding kink, multiple orgasms/creampies

ㅤ★ an; if any piece of smut is gonna lock me out of heaven it's gonna be this one i think (ok, that's an exaggeration lol) anyways enjoyyy!! 🎀💗

"Nn!! Gimmie me your babies!!"

"Huh?"

Pornstar!Sukuna's hips stutter, his pierced cock almost coming to a still inside of you as you totally give away your breeding kink.

This isn't part of the script, is it? He's wondering if he missed something — he's always been a bit of a lazy reader. And today he just kinda jumped into it 'cause he was too excited to fuck a tiny thing like you on the arm of a couch.

He pays a glance to the camera crew, then lets out a chuckle, "Am I fuckin' ya so good you forgot the script?"

You give him a blissed-out, drooly face that honestly makes his heart lurch. But he's gotta keep it together — he's at the height of his career and he refuses to develop a crush on a coworker.

"I'm sorry, it just feels so good!"

Sukuna's taken aback for a solid minute, then he snaps-to and sees the potential title shining in his mind; "Petite Slut YN LN Goes Dumb on Sukuna Ryomen's Cock — Begs for a Creampie!!"

"Shit... alright... perk that ass up 'n 'lemme give it to ya then."

With that, he's helping you reposition on the stark-white couch and quickly stuffing his cock back inside you, starting back up his relentless thrusting into your weeping pussy.

Giving it to you just how you like, nice and hard with little breaks in between, Sukuna fucks you like he's actually gonna get you knocked up — like your birth control ain't gonna work for shit against his thick, gooey cumload that comes pouring out his cock five minutes later.

Mister "Unbeatable Stamina" who rivalled Gojo Satoru, your favorite co-star before today, cums so quickly as you leg-lock him for a babymaking creampie, 'till he he shoots blanks and groans, draining his heavy balls deep inside you.

"Fuck, look at how clingy you are..." he chuckles, "Leg-locking me like I'm your lover... are we making porn or a French movie?" he murmurs now coming down to kiss all over your shoulders and neck, hungry for your skin against his lips. His cock's stilled as deep inside you as possible, and you're reactively grabbing at his tattooed muscles and whimpering.

"Nng, oh my god... I'm so full..." you mewl, clawing at him, "Ahhfuck, fuck me again, 'Kuna! Let me have it!"

"Ya sure about that...?"

"Mhm!!" you nod, eyes full of lust.

"Insatiable lil' slut..." he mutters under his breath, drawing his cock back out until it's just the tip keeping all his warm cum plugged up inside you.

You start babbling like crazy, begging him to fuck you again, and he's reading your body's cues to make sure your poor pussy could handle your lustful request — Gojo told him that you kinda liked to bite off more than you could chew. Seeing your lust and raw passion, Sukuna starts pounding into you again, hitting your gummy sweet spot 'till you see stars and babble out obscenities and a million yesses.

He's fucking you through your (third? fourth?) orgasm while grunting and looking down at the sight of your gushing hole, feeling it milk him for all he's worth. You're so beautiful right then, he wonders if a sleazy guy like him could get a woman like you.

Something unprofessionally romantic sparkles in Sukuna's eyes as he watches you cum again, legs held back and eyes rolling hard. He hides it quickly, but not quickly enough — the two of you've already made that burning eye contact.

"... one more!" you request breathlessly, shaking from the aftershock of your orgasm. "I can go one more round!"

He rings out with this laughter that makes your tummy tighten 'n your pussy clamp down on his way too thick cock, squeezing some of his leftover cum out.

"Shit, you're crazy. Might needa take ya out after this."

Humping you like an animal, getting balls deep at last (gold star for you, honestly. What an achievement), you can't even reply to his oddly cute offer for a date; he's got you moaning out like a bitch in heat, taking all of his pierced cock, arching your back just like he's been dying to see ever since he saw your first video — oh god let's not mention how jealous he was of Gojo Satoru.

His jealousy is the whole reason he's here right now.

Sukuna's flown out to fuck you better than anybody you've had previously on set — and he wasn't even late to the shoot, which he's been notorious for. No, he was on-time. Got there, saw you in the make-up room, gave you a greeting hug, you looked up at him with heart eyes and asked him flirtatiously how he slept and he eyed your tits which sloppily spilled out your dressing gown, and — well, had you on his cock within minutes of meeting you.

Sloppy, open-mouthed kissing — literally engulfing your lips with his, Sukuna ruined your hair and makeup within a few minutes of meeting you. Hardly had time for small talk. It had you giggling. The camera crew had to snap-to, because Sukuna had you bent into lewd positions and poised on his tattooed cock before they even started rolling.

"... look at that lil' beauty, huh? You gonna be my little goddess today? Good." he growled into your mouth — 'n that was really the first thing you remember him saying to you before sliding past your soft folds and making you moan out at his size.

That was all when you two were only fifteen minutes in. One hour into it, you now have started begging for his babies as the camera crew circles around the two of you.

You're looking down at the small bump that his cock makes each time he thrusts in 'n feeling your lower tummy shudder. His creampies are leaking out, smeared all over your pussy as he keeps up his relentless thrusts into that pussy he's now totally addicted to. All the cream getting whipped up makes his head spin and for a long few minutes, and now Sukuna's hardly fucking you like a pornstar anymore; nah, he's going at it like he's your man.

"Oh my god... oh my god! Ahhh!! Yes!! Yesyesyes, f-fuck me just like thaaaaat!!" you smile in total bliss, and damn he just can't believe that you still look just like the same goddess he met an hour ago, even in your exhausted state with ruined hair and makeup.

"Fuck, you're gonna make me cum inside you again..."

"Yeahhh, do it!"

"... uhh, guys, we have to wrap up the shoot in like ten minutes..."

Oh, you were on set? Oops. Sukuna grunts at the camera crew that they're just gonna have to work overtime today and deal with it.

But eventually, the scene ends, and everyone's muttering thank god's and finally's under their breath, readying to go. Sukuna saunters on over to you, dressed in his silk robe, face still sweaty and tired, and he pays you this devilish smirk.

" 'gimmie your babiess' huh? Don't think I ever heard that one before... at least not in a professional setting." he teases you.

You bite your lip back to him, "I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me."

He chuckles, "Don't be sorry, y' made me cum harder than I have in a while. It was a great scene."

He winks, grabbing a handful of your ass as you come to meet him for a sloppy goodbye kiss, "Thanks for making me feel good." you whisper on his lips.

"Uh-huh..." he hums, making a show of prying your arms off his neck despite loving how mad you are for him. "Okay okay... don't get too clingy... anyways, about that date..."

[ohmy-gojo]

cuteness aggression moments (gojo, nanami) ෆ

gojo

— you were having a sleepover at his place

— which meant cuddling, binge watching digimon (forced), pillow fighting and baking sweets together

— satoru always has the upper hand in pillow fights (or literally any other fights but wtv) you were seriously losing so to make him distracted you suggested baking sweets (its the best distraction) to escape the ultimate teasing he would give you for losing. he lit up at the mention of sweets and off you were to bake

— ...which ended up in ANOTHER fight but this time instead of pillows it was flour😭

— after a long time the sweets were finally prepared, def not bc he kept trying to taste the unbaked dough

— so now youre in for another rewatch of digimon but this time with the sweets you both prepared!

— despite the hardships you had to go through for making those damned sweets, they tasted really good. which made you stuff them inside your mouth, cheeks puffed out

— satoru, invested in the tv reached out to the bowl to get another piece of sweet instead found nothing. he turned his head to you accusingly and ready to start another pillow fight saw your face looking like a chipmunk watching tv

— there goes his heart! reduced to a gooey mess

— why are you looking so adorable:( makes him want to eat you up

— and he did. he literally bit your cheek (softly)

— you SCREAMED (it didnt hurt at all) bc youre a drama queen like that. "OW OW OW WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!?!"

— "STOP BEING SO CUTE IF YOU DONT WANT ME TO BITE YOU THEN!!"

— you just threw a pillow at him.

— gojo is like "oh no she did NOT ಠ⁠ಗ⁠ಠ"

— cue another session of pillow fight-turned into cuddle time (another way to distract him)

— god bless his neighbors

nanami

— he was back home after a long day at work, very tired.

— he just wanted to see you, kiss you and cuddle you. and maybe sleep too

— you literally charge him up with your presence alone

— he entered you both's shared home with a 'honey im home'

— normally in this part you would go "welcome back ken!!!" and come up to him running and jump on him to hug him, with him catching you swiftly and twirling you around

— but today you were nowhere to be found. did you go to sleep already?

— he entered your bedroom to find you very much awake

— and wearing his iconic clothes. the suit, tie and glasses. the full shabang

— you were admiring yourself in the mirror (bc you looked hella cute) and saw his reflection in the mirror "ken!! when did you come? i didnt notice!"

— when you turned to him expecting an answer he wasnt replying. you had a feeling it was bc of the clothes so you sheepishly asked him how you looked bc as cute as you looked they were really baggy on you

— meanwhile nanami was going through a dilemma. should he pull your cheeks and scold you for looking so adorable, kiss you or hug you first

— he snapped out and did all the things mentioned above in order

— "my love, please stop being so adorable. its not good for my heart."

— clicked silly photos of you acting like him on your request. photos which are going to the special album dedicated to you that he looks at when hes at work

[osachiyo]

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 by anonymous user ꒱. . . hello ! I really like your works, could I please request an insecure!reader with chuuya? and him fucking some sense into her? don't feel pressured to do this btw and feel free to ignore :D

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 note ꒱. . . here u go, nonnie ! I really liked this idea and sorry for taking so long on this request 😭 anyway, hope you enjoy ~~

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 c/w ꒱. . . (18+) n/sfw content, mentions of insecurities, body worshipper chuuya, praise, lowercase intended, hints of dumbfication, overstimulation, fingering, mirror sex, cunnilingus, chuuya eats it from the back !! 🗣️🗣️& more + not proofread

summary. . . you've been feeling insecure about your body and started to wonder if you were really good enough for someone like chuuya? but no worries, your lover doesn't mind reminding you how much he loves your body and more importantly, you.

you sighed, staring at your reflection in the fancy full-body mirror in front of you; god, you looked horrendous. you didn't know how chuuya, one of, if not the most beautiful man you've ever met, love someone like.. you.

what you also didn't know, though, was that your beloved chuuya had been standing in the doorway the entire time, slender figure leaning against the doorframe as a dull pain throbbed in his heart while he watched, heard you pick apart your body like it was the ugliest thing you had ever seen. he watched as you ran your fingers up and down the parts you hated the most, a frown tugging at your lips as you muttered something about "not being pretty enough". he didn't understand why you'd say such things about your body− all of those beautiful parts of yours that he cherished wholeheartedly.

you whipped your head around hearing the sound of the once slightly ajar bedroom door shut, your boyfriend entering the room. "hey doll, what're you up to?" chuuya's voice was heavy, laced with something you couldn't exactly put a finger on.

"hey, chuu," you smiled, though the action didn't meet your eyes. and chuuya could tell.

his eyes narrowed, gloved hands found their way around your waist, tugging you closer to him− your back flush against his chest. when did he walk all the way across the room?

"y'know, I heard everything right?" he muttered into your neck, strong arms tightening around your figure as you gulped nervously. "chuuya I−" "you're fuckin' beautiful. so don't say hurtful shit about yourself 'cause it for sure ain't true," he cut you off, now pressing soft kisses on the back of your neck to your shoulders, gloved hands reaching up your shirt to knead and gently caress your soft skin.

a whimper caught in your throat as chuuya's hands found your breasts− pushing your bra up to grope them under your shirt. "i love all parts of your body. fuck, you're so pretty. i'll fuckin' prove it to you if i have to."

"you see that, baby? see the way this pussy sucks my fingers in?" chuuya mused, now bare fingers plunging in and out of your sopping cunt as he had you spread in front of the giant mirror. "mm-! fuck, chuu−!" you were cut off by your own moans, beads of sweat forming on your forehead, making the little strands of your baby hair stick to your skin. "shh, baby. just focus on the way i finger fuck this pretty cunt, yeah?" your lover's voice was muffled by the soft kisses he was busy pressing all over your nape and shoulders, moving your hair out of the way to make it easier.

you could see everything in the mirror, from the way chuuya's slim fingers disappeared inside of your pussy to how much of a mess you've already become− glossy lips parted as loud moans and whines escape from your throat, the way your tits bounce and jiggle with each thrust of his digits. and hell, was it embarrassing. you jolted up when the tips of his appendages rubbed against that one spongey spot inside of your gooey walls− your jaw slacking as your eyes shut. only to receive a gentle but firm slap on your face from chuuya, "nuh-uh, baby. you're gonna watch how I please this beautiful body of yours," he growled lowly in your ear, fingers speeding up their pace as you twitch and whine in response. your vision was blurry− but you could still make out the way your face contorts to one of pure bliss in your reflection.

"yeaah− cum on these fingers, sweetheart," the ginger groaned as you soaked his fingers− your slick running down his wrist and staining the bed sheets underneath, soft curses and his name spewing out of your mouth as his fingers slowed down, aiding you to ride out your orgasm.

you gasped when he abruptly pulled them out of your still sensitive cunt− only to pop them in his mouth as he moaned from the taste of your juices melting on his tongue. "fuck, doll− I gotta taste you, need'a make you cum on my tongue−" he pushed you on your hands and knees before even finishing his sentence− a large hand pressing your back to a perfect arch, face down ass up.

"such a nice fuckin' ass," he groaned, fingers digging into the soft fat and spreading them as you whimper, pitifully clawing at the bed sheets. he playfully bit one of your globes, earning a whine in return which made him chuckle. chuuya's greedy hands ran down from your ass to your thighs, only to go back up to knead at your ass, "and these soft thighs− god, I could kiss 'em for hours."

and as if to prove himself, he started littering kisses all over your inner thighs, hands still kneading your ass before giving it a firm spank, making you jump. "hah, and of course−" he smirked before making his way to your pussy, "this pretty fuckin' pussy− prettiest one I've ever seen," he growled before diving in between your legs− hungry lips wrapping around your clit as you gasp out from the feeling.

"fu−ck! chuuya−!" you babbled, pussy still sensitive from your orgasm from earlier, his nose bumping against your slit as he runs his tongue in a zigzag motion across your clit. his fingers were spreading your ass apart for him, to get easy access to your sweet pussy that he wanted to devour so bad.

shamelessly nasty slurping noises came from between your parted thighs. your slick was already dripping down chuuya's chin as you tried your best to keep your gaze on the mirror, watching yourself getting eaten out from the back. fuck, your hair was a mess− your bare figure covered in bites and bruises that your boyfriend gave you, claiming it was his way of showing you were his. your makeup had been completely ruined; mascara running down your cheek in inky streaks, lipstick smudged− you looked utterly debauched, chuuya's favorite look on you.

a gurgled moan came out of your mouth when two fingers pushed inside of your sloppy pussy, the mafia executive's tongue now writing his name on your clit. a deep groan rumbled in his chest when you tried to run away from the feeling of his tongue and fingers on you− pulling you back before harshly cracking a palm down on your left globe, before curling his fingers further into you. tears were falling freely from your eyes at this point, mouth dropped to an 'o' as you chanted his name like a prayer− "chuu− please, fuck! s'too much−!" you cried out, if it weren't for chuuya's death grip on you, you'd already have fallen face first into the matress.

"you can− fuuck− take it, sweet girl," chuuya moaned into your pussy, the vibrations of the sound making your toes curl and apparently that was the last straw for you− "fuckfuck! 'm cummin'− cummingg−!!" your eyes rolled back into your skull as you squirted all over chuuya's face, his own hips rutting into the mattress as his eyes widen− he wasn't expecting you to do that.

chuuya gave your messy cunt a few more licks before kissing your clit, then pulling away. you looked back to see his face completely drenched− him licking his lips as he gave you a lopsided grin. "holy shit, baby. that was..." he muttered, still dazed as he ran his clean hand through his sweaty orange locks. you were still panting, chest heaving as you tried came down from the euphoric high before looking away in embarrassment, fingers fiddling with the sheets− then suddenly, you got slammed back against the bed. face down, ass up, again.

you heard a metal clink− likely his belt. the sound of expensive leather hitting the floor snapped you back into reality, he must've tossed the belt somewhere. it wasn't long before your thoughts got quickly cut off, chuuya's heavy tip slapping against your clit a few times as you whined, begging him to give you a rest but no− he wasn't gonna stop until he was sure he fucked all those negative thoughts out of your mind− wasn't gonna stop 'till all thoughts but his left that pretty little head of yours. you just had to sit still and take it, like the good girl you were.

©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated ♡

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[togament]

I LOVE YOUR WRITING SM😭😭

Please could you do a fluffy thirst of how the boys (togame, sakura, kaji, ume maybe suo) treat the reader after they’ve gone a round 🥲 like their afterglow ❤️

ANON. You and your brain!!!!!! Yoinking it out of your skull to kiss it. Thank you for the kind words! This got me flying off the hinges I worked on this so fast. Locked in, I fear. I hope you don't mind me adding Endo in. He's like a stray cat atp. Don't mind him.

𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔.

suo. sakura. kaji. ume. kiryu. togame. endo.

"ever wondered how it'd be like to just lay there with him, naked both physically and emotionally. So bare and vulnerable, skin reddened and raw, bodies aching. But with both hearts so full, it's almost bursting at the seams? I got it."

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Sakura was written with his character development in the most recent chapter in mind! (SOBBING), some language (I'm not exactly the best person to trust with keeping things clean and straight yk), mentions of sex, mentions of cuuuuum, GN!Reader but let me know if I made any mistakes--I'll rectify dat rq (edited Sakura’s!! Tysvm anon!!! Dw you didn’t come across as rude, promise), FLUFF OOEY GOOEY FLUFF, endo???? BEING A PROPER CITIZEN??? LOVER EVEN??????, kinda NSFW? not too spicy but still--MDNI!

𝐒𝐔𝐎.

Your room's dimly lit by candlelight and the moonlight shining through the blinds. Wafts of incense and patchouli caress your senses while your beloved wipes you down with a warm towel. "Good enough for you, my dove?" he pauses as he's looking up at you and you're met with Suo looking at you as though you've hung the moon yourself. Leaning in for a lingering forehead kiss, he mutters into your scalp, "my god you're absolutely ethereal."

✦ your apartment transforms into something damn close to a spa. Suo's big on scents so he has the cool breeze flowing in, incense lit, scented candles gently perfuming the air. It's magical every time. ✦ goes without saying that he loves, loves, LOVES spoiling you. Worshipping you, even. You swear sometimes his lips would never leave your skin with how often he's placing kiss after kiss on your body. ✦ scalp massages! Suo's an absolute beast at it. You always wake up to your hair smelling of some of his essential oils. It's a whole selection and he doesn't like sticking to just one scent. Hell, your body feels so moisturized and plump once you wake up in the morning.

══════════════════ 𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐀.

"Yer so pretty," Sakura's voice is soft, gentle. A far cry from his harsh and rough tone. God. He's looking at you with such reverence you feel like you're gonna melt. Leaning towards you, he presses a lingering kiss to your lips. There it is. He's blushing again. "My baby’s so pretty."

✦ he's not blushing profusely anymore. Or at least, not as red as he normally is when he's around you. he's just laid there beside you, staring into your eyes with the softest expression on his face. Gratitude. Admiration. ✦ often spends most of the time staring at you like that so lovingly. So much so that you gotta remind him to wipe you down because god the cum's starting to make you feel uncomfortable with how cold it feels. ✦ is actually such a great cuddler. Especially after such a rough session. ESPECIALLY. Doesn't want to let you go the entire time.

══════════════════ 𝐊𝐀𝐉𝐈.

"Let me clean you up," reaching beside you, your lover says with a slight groan as he grabs the tissues off to your side. Taking a few squares, he wipes you down wordlessly, the cautious speed ever evident. It's silent. Soothing. His other arm's never left your side, you notice. Gripping onto your hip ever so securely.

✦ not a huge talker after the fact. But he's quick to clean you up and attend to your needs. It's mostly just short, meaningful praises and reassurances with the both of you, basking in the afterglow. ✦ what he lacks in words, he makes up for in actions. He loves lavishing your body with kisses, caressing where you’re aching the most. ✦ Likes the silence since it's only with you where he doesn't need his headphones to put the world on mute, doesn't need a lollipop to censor his filthy, ruthless mouth. But of course, if it's assurance and praise you need, it's assurance and praise you'll get. His lips are devoid of sweets after all. Time for you to keep them busy.

══════════════════ 𝐔𝐌𝐄.

"Do you need anything else from me, baby? A massage? Some cuddles?" your lover asks you while he's wiping your inner thighs down clean from his cum that's been dribbling down them, always eager to cater to your needs at all times. Pressing a gentle kiss to the skin, he adds gently, "Whatever you need."

✦ way sweeter than he usually is with you. Which is saying a lot because your man's the absolute sweetest around you all the damn time! Presses kisses everywhere, whispers the most heart melting praise while he's hard at work soothing your body.... BIG SIGH. ✦ likes making you laugh even when your body's aching from him practically going all in on you. Says it's the best way to distract you from the pain. Still, he's massaging you if you'd like him to. Happy to oblige. ✦ ugh the ASSURANCE he gives you every time. The PRAISE?????? ALL GENUINE. ALL FROM THE HEART. It happens every time you're both still awake after the romp. 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐓.

══════════════════ 𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐘𝐔.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs against your skin as he's trailing kisses down your spine, corners of his lips curled up into a gentle smile. You can feel it with each kiss he presses onto your skin. His skillful thumbs pressing soothing circles in your aching muscles, rubbing the soreness away. "How'd I get so lucky?"

✦ PRAISE IS THE ABSOLUTE NAME OF THE GAME.

✦ he's so good at massaging you omg the thought of paying him for it has crossed your mind a couple of times. You feel so guilty for being massaged and pampered this good FOR FREE. ALL THE TIME. ✦ likes talking you through everything, whispering assurances and checking in with you during the act and after. Never fails to make you feel like you're cherished. With Kiryu, you truly are. And more.

══════════════════ 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄.

"Need a massage?" he says as he's already flexing his hands, reaching over for the massage oil. Eyes so lovestruck as he gazes into your own, he coos at you gently, "Little reward yeah?" Pressing a gentle kiss right behind your ear, he whispers deeply, his voice ends with a slight grumble, "Did so good f'me, doll."

✦ Of course, always attentive to you. Slow with wiping you down but god is it soothing with how he's doing it so gently. Purring praises into it every time. If you're feeling peckish, no matter how tired he is, he's making something for you in the kitchen. ✦ can and would eat you out if you wanted him to help ride out your high again. Gentle with it again too since he knows how sensitive you are. Pretty easy to wrap into another round though. ✦ After all that, you both are out like lights as soon as your heads hit the pillow. He's got you close to him though, arms encasing you, breaths intertwined. Comfortable.

══════════════════ 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐎.

"Fuck... ME," he says with a gentle chuckle, voice akin to a purr you can swear it rumbles, tone so honeyed and syrupy. Reaching over to your side of the bed, your lover cups a tattooed hand over your cheek, sliding his thumb over the apex of it ever so slowly. "You're gorgeous."

✦ Always, always at your beck and call. Need something? He's on it. Back aches from the diabolical backshots? He's already prepping your body with massaging oil. Need him to wipe the cum away? Of course he's on that shit ASAP (with his tongue). Would do whatever it is that you want him to do within a heartbeat. ✦ Often tries to get another round out of you. He genuinely, genuinely CANNOT get enough of you. Only if you're cool with him trying though. He's not gonna force things on you if you don't want it. ✦ lavishes you with so much love sometimes it's suffocating. It only ramps up in intensity after fucking. If you like them obsessively clingy, he's your man.

a/n: HOOOOOOO anon I hope this was alright!!!! These were all such fun to do oml. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING THROUGH ALL THIS AHSDKHAKJSD more requests like these please!!!! aaaaa

[cainvstheworld]

Inflammation by Cain Birch

a little top surgery poem

[Text ID: They carved out my chest with scalpels, with glinting metal, with sterile hands. They saw the man underneath my overflowing skin, freed him from the too-fullness of his flesh. But you loved me, not just despite, but with the buds on my body. Right before I went under, my brain turning gooey, my breath sludgy, I asked them to do me a favor: to carve out a little extra space around my heart. I could feel it swelling in my chest, aching to bloom with all the love it holds for you, but I went limp on the cold table before I could hear their answer. I woke up blurry and thirsty, my chest hidden under thick layers. Two days passed before I unwrapped myself, carefully peeling back layers, unfurling petals. I put a shaky hand over my heart, and through the numb flesh I could feel my heart beating jackrabbit fast, lioness strong, and knew my wish was granted. /End ID]

[a-hazbin-reader]

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Extreme Fluff!! Sweet Intimacy!!! A little canon cannibalism

Description: Different ways Alastor likes to be pampered by Wifey!Reader

When it comes to his wifey...Alastor is super spoiled and he knows it, craves it like nothing ever before

He's a glutton for your attention and everyone knows it

Every little act of kindness, every drop of affection and loving gaze just melts over his (shriveled black)heart like a sugary glaze

Mmmmmm glazed hearts

Great now he's hungry

ANYWAYS-

Even the normal everyday things make him feel warm and fuzzy inside

Like when you bring him his favorite tea in the mornings, giving him a soft kiss on the side of his face as you drape your arms around him

"Mm...good morning my dear..."

Or when you smooth over an unruly hair for him or fix his bow tie before he leaves the hotel

You can't have your snookums going out looking like some scruffy strawberry clown

You always make sure his staff is clean and polished, suit flawless and pressed, shoes shiny before he has an overlord meeting

You're NOT going to let your pookie bear hang around the other overlords with smudged shoes

Just. No.

Loves the days that you drag him off to the bathroom to coax him into a hot bath

"You've been so tense lately... let me take care of you..."

How can he say no to you?

He just relaxes and closes his eyes, letting your gentle fingers massage his scalp as you lather shampoo in his hair

The candles and bubbles 🫧 were a good touch too 👌

He almost always falls asleep by the time you're done massaging and cleaning him up, once you start scrubbing under his nails then he's OUT LIKE A LIGHT

Not that you mind, he's so attractive when he's sleeping

WAIT HUSBAND DON'T DROWN

Wakes up to an empty bathtub and a warm towel being wrapped around him by his delicious boo

You're so good to him how did you know he needed this

Always finds himself in a better mood after that, like his problems have all been washed and scrubbed away by your gentle pampering

He secretly loves it when you come by his radio tower with a fresh lunch, interrupting his set just because he needs to eat

Though he pretends it's a big hassle

He savors the food you bring him either way, walking you to the door afterwards and thanking you for thinking of him

Bby boy that's all you do is think about him

He locks the door on your way out tho

Alastor loves the way you convince him to come to bed with you, knowing he needs to sleep but also armed with the knowledge that he'll fight bedtime like a child

You leaning on the doorway already in your sleep attire, giving him a soft pout as he tries to continue his work and ignore you

"Alastor..."

Not his ears flicking up at the sound of your voice

When whining doesn't work, then you slink your way over to him, cupping his cheek and forcing him to look at you

He's trying so hard not to though, the moment he looks at your face then he knows he's done for

"Look at me, darling~"

Okay maybe just a quick glance-

Alastor you are a strong man, you are cruel and sadistic and you are an overlord with very important business!! You can handle telling your wife no-

Ffffffffuck.

Not the gooey goo goo doe eyes

Immediately leans into your touch, savoring the feeling of your fingers stroking his cheek

Not his tail fluttering

"Come to bed already~ I can't sleep without you, you know..."

And that's how you convince him to get to sleep every single night, a full 8 hours or whatever is recommended in Hell

Getting out of bed is hard for him because you look so delectable asleep and curled into him

Maybe he should take more time to pamper you too

But he's a selfish, greedy man who likes being spoiled by his wife so that thought is gone as fast as it came

He gets out of bed just to watch you whine and blindly reach out for him, so adorably pathetic

Okay just five more minutes of snuggles then I gotta go-

If he's cranky then you manage to convince him to nap, patting your lap and stroking his hair once he lays his head down

Your soft singing lulls him into a light sleep as you scratch and rub the ends of his ears

Wakes up drooling

Wakes up with his face buried in your stomach, arms locked around your waist as he sleepily breathes in your scent

How is he supposed to get any work done with you around????

Alastor loves all those things but his favorite way that you spoil him?? His number one fave?? That he would never admit to anyone??

When you give him your special smile, the one that's always been his to see and his alone

The smile that conveys enough warmth and love to make all of Hell seem like Heaven, at least for him anyways

The same smile that he first saw when you told him that you loved him, the same smile that tells him you still love him

You spoil him

Alastor thinking of his wife:

[ijustmissyouraccenths]

My Boss's Son: Part II

A tale of tea, poetry, and stolen moments, where Y/N and Harry turn chance encounters into a love story full of wit, warmth, and a dash of irresistible charm.

Content Warning: A little smutty towards the ending but it's brief. Mentions of alcohol.

Word Count: 16,483

Part one below!

New Year’s Eve had arrived, and instead of the usual glitz and glamour of parties and countdowns, Harry had suggested something far more low-key. When he texted that morning confirming if I’d still be up for baking cookies together, I couldn’t help but laugh at how committed to the idea he was—and immediately say yes.

By the time he knocked on my door that evening, I’d already set up the kitchen with bowls, ingredients, and a playlist of upbeat songs to match the festive mood. When I opened the door, there he was, standing in a coat and scarf, holding a bag of chocolate chips in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.

“Thought I’d come prepared,” he said, grinning as he held them up. “Cookies and a bit of New Year’s spirit.”

“You’re too good at this,” I teased, stepping aside to let him in. “Come on, the kitchen’s ready.”

Harry shed his coat and scarf, revealing a casual sweater with the sleeves pushed up, tattoos visible on his forearms. He set the wine and chocolate chips on the counter, rolling his sleeves up further with a playful determination. “Right, where do we start?”

I laughed, handing him an apron. “First, you put this on. We don’t need flour all over you.”

“Yes, chef,” he joked, tying it around his waist. He looked delicious.

We fell into an easy rhythm, mixing dough, sneaking bits of batter, and occasionally smearing flour on each other’s faces when the other wasn’t looking. Harry’s laugh filled the room as I tried to dodge his attempts at retaliation, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so carefree.

“You’re dangerous with that spoon,” I said, pointing at him as he made a show of scooping out another bite of dough.

“Dangerously charming, maybe,” he quipped, winking as he popped the spoon into his mouth.

“ And modest, too,” I teased, rolling my eyes as I placed the first tray of cookies in the oven.

As the cookies baked, we settled on the couch with the wine, the soft glow of fairy lights I’d strung up for the holidays casting a cozy light across the room. Harry stretched out beside me, holding his glass loosely as he looked over.

“You know,” he said, his voice quieter now, “this is a pretty great way to spend New Year’s.”

I smiled, tucking my legs under me. “It’s definitely different, but I like it. No crowds, no noise—just cookies and wine.”

“And me,” he added, his grin soft but teasing.

“And you,” I agreed, meeting his gaze.

The timer beeped, breaking the moment, and we both laughed as I jumped up to rescue the cookies. Harry followed me to the kitchen, leaning against the counter as I pulled the tray from the oven.

“These look perfect,” I said proudly, setting the tray down to cool.

“All you,” he said, watching me with a smile. “I’m just here for moral support and quality control.”

Grabbing a cookie that was still warm enough to be gooey, he took a bite, letting out a low hum of approval. “Okay, these are incredible. You’ve ruined all other cookies for me.”

I laughed, grabbing one for myself. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

As we ate, the sound of fireworks outside signaled that midnight was near. Harry glanced at me, setting his cookie down. “You know, I think this might be my favorite New Year’s yet.”

“Why’s that?” I asked, my heart racing a little as he stepped closer.

“Because it’s with you,” he said simply, his gaze steady.

Before I could respond, he leaned in, his lips brushing mine softly at first, then deepening into a kiss that felt as warm and sweet as the cookies we’d just baked. When we pulled back, his forehead rested against mine, and his smile widened.

As the timer for the cookies faded into the background, I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was almost midnight. I turned to Harry, who was still leaning against the counter, finishing the last of his cookie.

“It’s almost time,” I said softly, nodding toward the balcony. “Do you want to watch the fireworks?”

He smiled, picking up his glass of wine and gesturing for me to lead the way. “Absolutely. Let’s see what this city’s got.”

We stepped out onto the small balcony, the cool night air brushing against our skin as we took in the view. Snowflakes still  lingered on the railings, and the faint sound of music and chatter carried from nearby streets. From here, we could hear the excitement building as people prepared to welcome the new year.

Harry stood close beside me, his arm brushing against mine as he looked out over the city lights. He sipped his wine, the quiet between us feeling natural, like we’d known each other forever.

The countdown started in the distance, voices shouting numbers as they echoed through the crisp night air.

“Ten… nine… eight…”

Harry glanced down at me, his expression soft and thoughtful. “This has been a pretty great night, hasn’t it?”

“Seven… six…”

“It really has,” I said, smiling up at him. “I’m glad you came over.”

“Five… four…”

“So am I,” he murmured, setting his glass down on the railing and stepping closer.

“Three… two…”

Before the final number, Harry slid his arm around my waist, pulling me gently against him. The moment the city erupted with cheers and the sky lit up with fireworks, he leaned down and kissed me.

The world seemed to fade away as his lips met mine, soft yet firm, with a sense of certainty that made my heart race. The warmth of his touch, the faint taste of wine, the distant crackle of fireworks—it all blended into a perfect moment.

When we finally pulled back, his forehead rested lightly against mine, and his grin was undeniable.

“Happy New Year, Y/N,” he said, his voice low and full of something deeper than just the words.

“Happy New Year, Harry,” I whispered back, feeling the promise of something new and wonderful as his arms stayed wrapped around me, the fireworks still lighting up the sky.

As the fireworks crackled in the sky and the sound of cheers faded into the background, I found myself still lost in the lingering warmth of Harry’s kiss. My heart was racing, my hands still resting lightly on his chest as he pulled back just enough to look at me.

But I wasn’t ready for the moment to end.

Without overthinking, I reached up and pulled him back to me, pressing my lips to his again. This kiss was deeper, more confident, and filled with all the emotions I hadn’t said aloud. Harry responded instantly, his hands tightening around my waist as he leaned into me, his breath mingling with mine.

When we finally broke apart again, his lips curved into a playful grin. “You really like fireworks, huh?” he teased, his voice low and full of humor.

“Something like that,” I said, laughing softly, still catching my breath.

His grin widened, and before I could say another word, he slid his arms around my legs and back, effortlessly lifting me off the ground. A small gasp escaped me as he carried me across the balcony threshold and back into the warmth of the flat.

“Harry!” I exclaimed, laughing as I looped my arms around his neck. “What are you doing?”

“Carrying you to safety,” he said dramatically, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “It’s cold out there. Can’t have you freezing on me.”

I laughed harder, my head resting against his shoulder as he set me gently down near the couch. The cozy glow of the room wrapped around us, the scent of cookies still lingering in the air. He stood close, his hands not leaving my waist, his gaze steady and warm.

As we stood there, the warmth of the moment wrapping around us like a blanket, a thought crept into my mind, one I couldn’t quite shake. I didn’t want to ruin the mood, but curiosity tugged at me.

“Harry,” I said softly, looking up at him, “can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” he replied, his tone gentle, his thumb brushing lightly against my waist. “What’s on your mind?”

I hesitated for a moment, not wanting to dampen the happiness of the evening. “When do you have to leave for America again?”

His smile faltered just slightly, but he didn’t look away. “In a week,” he said, his voice quiet but steady. “We’re wrapping up some things for the album. I’ll probably be gone for a while.”

The weight of his answer settled between us, and I felt my chest tighten. A week. Just when it felt like things were beginning to bloom between us, he’d be gone again. I tried to hide the flicker of sadness that crossed my face, but Harry noticed.

“Hey,” he said, his hand moving to cup my cheek, his voice softening. “I’ll be back. This isn’t me disappearing.”

“I know,” I said quickly, managing a small smile. “I just… I wish we had more time before you leave for so long.”

“So do I,” he admitted, his forehead resting against mine. “But we’ve got a week. And I plan on making the most of it—with you.”

His words, full of sincerity, eased the ache in my chest just a little. I nodded, leaning into his touch. “Okay,” I whispered. “A week. Let’s make it count.”

Harry smiled then, his hand slipping back to my waist. “Starting with this,” he said, pulling me closer and kissing me again, as if to remind me that, for now, he was still here—and that was what mattered most.

As we stood close, the warmth of Harry’s presence easing the weight of the conversation, he hesitated for a moment, as if he was debating whether to say something. Finally, he let out a small breath, his thumb still tracing gentle circles against my waist.

“There’s something I didn’t mention,” he said softly, his eyes searching mine. “I mean, yeah, I’ll be heading to America for work, but… I’ve been planning on spending a lot more time here.”

My brows furrowed slightly. “Here? In England?”

He nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Yeah. I actually bought a place not too far from Mum’s. A little house in a quiet suburb, just a few miles down the road.”

Surprise flickered across my face as his words sunk in. “Wait—you bought a house? Here? I thought you loved the city.”

“I do,” he said, his smile softening. “But I needed somewhere a bit quieter. Somewhere that feels more… grounded. And being close to Mum just made sense. It’s not far from here, actually.”

I blinked, trying to process the unexpected news. “So, you’re planning on staying in England more?”

“That’s the idea,” he said, watching me carefully. “The touring and traveling won’t stop completely, but… yeah. I want to be here. For her. And maybe for someone else too.”

My heart fluttered at his words, and I couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto my face. “You really mean it?”

He nodded, his grin widening. “I wouldn’t joke about something like this. Besides,” he added, his tone lightening, “you didn’t think I’d just leave you with the title of Best Cookie Maker in England without trying to claim it back, did you?”

I laughed, the heaviness in my chest lifting. “Good luck with that. You’ve got a long way to go.”

Harry chuckled, leaning in to kiss me lightly. “Challenge accepted. But in the meantime, I thought you might like knowing I’m sticking around a bit more.”

“I like it a lot,” I admitted, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the cozy flat or the wine. “More than you know.”

“Good,” he said simply, his arms tightening around me as if to say he wasn’t going anywhere. And for the first time in a long time, I felt like I could truly believe it.

The night ended quietly, with Harry deciding to head back to his mum’s house to stay the night. He kissed me goodnight at the door, lingering just a moment longer than usual, his hand brushing my cheek before he finally walked away. I watched him leave, the warmth of the evening still humming in my chest, before closing the door and heading to bed. Tomorrow would be back to reality, with work waiting for me in the morning.

When my alarm buzzed, I groaned softly, pulling myself from the warmth of my bed and dragging myself into the shower. As the water woke me up, my thoughts drifted to Harry, and I smiled, the events of the night before playing on a loop in my mind. But as much as I wanted to bask in the memory, I had to focus. Anne would be expecting me soon.

I slipped into a crisp button-up shirt and a pair of tailored slacks, checking my reflection in the mirror before tying my hair back neatly. Professional, but comfortable. Grabbing my bag and keys, I made my way out the door.

The morning was cold, a light frost covering the ground, but the clear blue sky promised a pleasant day ahead. The drive to Anne’s was peaceful, the roads quiet as I sipped my coffee and listened to the soft hum of the radio. By the time I pulled into her driveway, the world was beginning to stir.

Anne’s charming cottage looked as inviting as ever, the smoke curling from the chimney hinting at a warm fire inside. I grabbed my bag and headed to the door, knocking lightly before stepping inside.

“Good morning, Anne!” I called out, the familiar scent of lavender and freshly brewed tea greeting me.

Anne appeared from the kitchen, her face lighting up as she saw me. “Good morning, love! Right on time, as always.”

I smiled, hanging my coat by the door. “I try. What’s on the agenda today?”

“Oh, the usual chaos,” she said with a wink, gesturing for me to follow her into the kitchen. “But first, let me make you some tea. Can’t have you working without proper sustenance.”

As I settled at the kitchen table, Anne placed a steaming cup of tea in front of me, her warm smile making me feel instantly at ease.

“Thank you,” I said, taking a sip. “It’s quiet this morning.”

Anne chuckled as she sat across from me. “It is. Harry’s out on a quick run to grab some pastries. Figured we’d need something sweet to go with the tea.”

I smiled, imagining him bundled up against the cold, running around town with his usual effortless charm. “That sounds perfect.”

Anne leaned back in her chair, cradling her own cup of tea. “We don’t have too much to do today, thankfully. Most places are closed for the holiday, so I thought we’d keep it light. Just a few notes to tidy up.”

“That works for me,” I said, grateful for the slower pace.

Anne watched me for a moment, her expression soft but tinged with a hint of mischief. “You know,” she began, her tone casual, “I have to say, my plan seems to be coming along quite nicely.”

I blinked, setting my cup down. “Plan?”

She grinned, clearly enjoying my confusion. “To get you and Harry together, of course.”

I froze, a flush creeping up my cheeks. “Anne!” I exclaimed, laughing nervously. “You didn’t!”

“Oh, I absolutely did,” she said, completely unapologetic. “Do you think it’s a coincidence he just happened to show up at my Christmas party? Or that I let slip how much you love baking?”

I stared at her, equal parts flattered and mortified. “You’ve been plotting this?”

“Plotting is a strong word,” she said with a wave of her hand. “Let’s call it gentle nudging. I saw how he lit up whenever I mentioned you, and, well, it’s no secret how highly I think of you. It seemed worth a little nudge, don’t you think?”

I couldn’t help but smile, her words filling me with a warmth that pushed away my embarrassment. “Anne, you’re unbelievable.”

“Maybe,” she said with a wink, “but you’re smiling, which means I’m not entirely wrong.”

I shook my head, laughing softly. “You’re lucky I adore you.”

“Oh, I know,” she said, grinning. “And so does Harry, apparently. You two are good for each other, Y/N. That’s all I wanted to see.”

Her words lingered in the air, and I couldn’t deny the truth in them. Before I could respond, the front door opened, and Harry’s voice called out, “Mum, I’m back! And I brought enough pastries to feed an army!”

Anne leaned in conspiratorially, her grin widening. “See? My plan practically runs itself.”

I laughed, shaking my head as Harry stepped into the kitchen, his arms full of boxes and a familiar smile lighting up his face. Anne gave me a knowing look.

As Harry walked into the kitchen, balancing a box of pastries in one hand and a coffee cup in the other, his eyes landed on me. His hair was slightly tousled, his cheeks still faintly pink from the cold, and he had the soft, slightly groggy look of someone who hadn’t fully shaken off sleep.

“Y/N,” he said, a small grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “You’re here earlier than I thought you’d be.”

I swallowed, my heart pounding in my chest as I took him in. Even tired, or maybe because he was still a bit sleepy, he looked effortlessly attractive. His sweater hung just right, and the way he ran a hand through his hair made it impossible to look away.

“Good morning, Harry,” I managed, willing my voice to stay steady. “Anne said we’d be taking it easy today, so I figured I’d come in early and get started.”

He set the box of pastries on the counter, his grin widening as he leaned against the edge. “You’re always so diligent. Mum’s lucky to have you.”

Anne, who was busy organizing the tea cabinet, smirked but didn’t say anything, though I could see the amused glint in her eyes. I ignored it, focusing instead on Harry, who was still watching me with that familiar, disarming gaze.

“And I see you’ve already done the hard work,” I teased, nodding toward the pastries.

He chuckled, his voice still tinged with sleep. “What can I say? I aim to impress. Picked these up from that bakery you mentioned last week.”

My heart fluttered at the thought that he’d remembered something so small, but I forced myself to keep it cool. “Well, you’ve succeeded. Those are my favorite.”

“Good,” he said, his grin softening as his eyes lingered on mine. For a moment, the noise of the kitchen—the clinking cups, Anne humming softly—faded away, leaving just us.

“Harry,” Anne’s voice broke through, light and teasing, “don’t just stand there staring. Grab the plates, would you?”

He laughed, shaking his head but obediently moving to grab plates from the cupboard. As he passed by me, his hand brushed lightly against my arm—a small, fleeting touch that sent a shiver down my spine.

“Glad you’re here,” he said softly, his voice just loud enough for me to hear, before turning back to the counter.

I watched him, my chest tightening and my heart racing, and realized that no matter how calm I tried to appear, Harry had a way of making everything else fade into the background.

Anne and I worked through everything on the agenda at a leisurely pace, the day feeling light and easy. Once we’d finished, she leaned back in her chair with a satisfied smile.

“Well, that’s everything,” she said, setting her notepad aside. “Not too bad, was it?”

“Not at all,” I replied, sipping the last of my tea. “Thanks for keeping it simple today.”

Anne grinned, her tone warm. “You’ve earned it, love. You know, you’re welcome to stay as long as you want. No rush.”

I smiled, grateful for her kindness. “Thanks, Anne. I might stick around for a bit, if that’s okay.”

“Of course,” she said, standing to tidy up the kitchen. “Harry’s here too, so you’ve got good company.”

As if on cue, the front door opened, and Harry stepped in, shaking snow off his coat and hair. His cheeks were flushed from the cold, and his boots left a trail of melted snow as he made his way to the living room.

“Hey,” he said, spotting me on the couch. “You’re still here.”

I smiled. “Anne said I could stay.”

“Good,” he said, plopping down beside me with a casual ease. “I wanted to show you something.”

“Oh?” I asked, curious.

He nodded, his grin widening as he stood and offered me his hand. “Come on. It’s better if you see it for yourself.”

I glanced at Anne, who waved me off with a knowing smile, then slipped my hand into Harry’s. His fingers were warm against mine as he led me to the back door.

Outside, the snowy garden stretched before us, the white blanket of snow untouched except for a few faint footprints. The air was crisp, and the soft glow of the late afternoon sun made the scene look like something out of a storybook.

Harry guided me down the stone path, his hand never leaving mine. “I noticed this earlier when I was outside,” he said, stopping near the edge of the garden. “Figured you’d appreciate it.”

He gestured toward a small clearing where the snow-covered trees framed a frozen pond. The surface reflected the soft light, and the whole scene looked almost magical.

“It’s beautiful,” I said, my breath visible in the cold air. “I didn’t know this was back here.”

Harry smiled, his gaze shifting from the scene to me. “Thought it might make your day a little better. Quiet, peaceful—just like you like.”

My chest tightened at his words, and I looked at him, the sincerity in his expression making my heart race. “You’re really good at this, you know,” I said softly.

“Good at what?” he asked, his grin teasing.

“Making me feel like the only person in the world,” I admitted, my cheeks warming despite the cold.

Harry’s smile softened, and he squeezed my hand gently. “That’s easy,” he said. “Because to me, you kind of are.”

For a moment, we stood there in the snowy garden, the world around us silent except for the soft crunch of snow beneath our feet. And as he leaned in, his breath warm against my cold skin, I felt like everything else disappeared.

As we stood in the snowy garden, a chill crept through the air, but before I could even shiver, Harry wrapped his arm around me, pulling me close. His warmth was immediate, and I instinctively leaned into him, grateful for the comfort.

“You looked like you were freezing,” he murmured, his voice soft against the quiet of the garden. “Can’t have that.”

I smiled faintly, my gaze drifting to the frozen pond before us. The way the snow-covered branches framed it, the delicate stillness of the ice, and the pale sunlight reflecting off its surface—it all felt like something out of a poem.

“A poem,” I said aloud, almost to myself.

Harry glanced down at me, his curiosity piqued. “What’s that?”

I hesitated, then tilted my head to look at him. “The cold always makes me think of poetry. I read one once that stuck with me.”

He smiled, his arm tightening slightly around my shoulder. “Go on, then. Let’s hear it.”

I turned my eyes back to the pond, letting the memory of the words rise to the surface. Slowly, I began to recite:

"The winter holds its breath tonight, A silver hush beneath pale light. The earth wears frost like fragile lace, A fleeting mask of quiet grace."

My voice softened as I continued, my breath visible in the crisp air.

"Yet in the cold, a warmth remains, A pulse that stirs through frozen veins. For even winter’s biting chill, Can’t silence hearts that whisper still."

I paused, my eyes fixed on the stillness of the pond, the words lingering in the quiet air. When I glanced up at Harry, his expression was soft, his gaze steady as he watched me.

“That was beautiful,” he said after a moment, his voice low and sincere. “Did you write that?”

I shook my head, smiling shyly. “No, it’s just one that stuck with me. I don’t even remember where I read it, but it always felt… comforting.”

“It suits you,” he said, his arm pulling me a little closer. “Soft, thoughtful, and quietly stunning.”

I laughed, rolling my eyes. “You’re just saying that because you like me.”

“Maybe,” he teased, his grin playful. “But it doesn’t make it any less true.”

I leaned into him, letting his warmth and his words wrap around me. In that moment, with the snow falling softly around us and the garden stretching quietly before us, it felt like the world had paused just for us.

As the last of my words faded into the cold air, I turned to Harry, his arm still wrapped around me, his warmth cutting through the chill. Without a word, I leaned into him, wrapping my arms around his waist and resting my head against his chest. He didn’t hesitate, pulling me into a tight embrace, his hands resting firmly on my back as if he wanted to hold me there forever.

We stood like that for a moment, the snowy world around us silent, as if it was giving us this moment to ourselves. His heartbeat was steady under my ear, grounding and comforting.

Harry shifted slightly, pulling back just enough so he could look down at me. His green eyes were serious now, his usual playful smile replaced by something deeper, something vulnerable. His hands stayed on my waist, his touch warm and steady.

“Y/N,” he began softly, his voice almost a whisper, “I’ve been meaning to say this for a while. I don’t want there to be any doubt—about how I feel, about what this is between us.”

My heart began to race as I searched his gaze, my breath catching at the sincerity in his expression.

“I like you,” he continued, his voice gaining strength. “Not just in a casual way, not just as someone I want to spend time with when it’s convenient. I really like you. And I want you to be my girlfriend.”

His words hung in the air, warm and certain, as he studied me, waiting for my response.

“You want me to be your girlfriend?” I asked, a soft smile tugging at my lips, though my voice wavered slightly from the rush of emotions his confession brought.

“Yeah,” he said, his grip on my waist tightening slightly as if to emphasize his words. “I don’t want you to have to wonder where we stand, or if my feelings are real. They are. You’re the one I think about, the one I want to be with.”

A wave of warmth flooded through me, and I smiled up at him, my chest tightening in the best way possible. “I’d love to be your girlfriend, Harry.”

The relief and joy on his face were immediate, his grin spreading wide as he let out a soft laugh. He wrapped his arms around me again, hugging me tightly, and I felt his breath against my hair.

As Harry and I stood wrapped in each other's arms, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the gentle hush of falling snow and the warmth between us. Just as I was about to suggest heading back inside, I noticed a playful glint in Harry's eyes.

"What is it?" I asked, following his gaze.

He chuckled softly. "Seems we have an audience."

Turning around, I spotted Anne standing at the kitchen window, a steaming cup of tea cradled in her hands. The soft glow from inside illuminated her amused expression. When she caught our eyes, she didn't look away—instead, she grinned widely and gave us an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

I felt a rush of warmth flood my cheeks. "Oh my gosh," I murmured, half-embarrassed and half-amused. "How long has she been watching?"

Harry laughed, pulling me a little closer. "Knowing Mum, probably the whole time."

I buried my face briefly against his chest, laughing. "She's going to tease us endlessly, isn't she?"

"Most definitely," he said with a grin. "But that's part of her charm."

As Anne disappeared from the window, likely to give us a semblance of privacy—or perhaps to prepare her teasing remarks—Harry looked back at me, his eyes soft.

"Well," he said lightly, "at least we know we have her approval."

I smiled up at him. "Not that I ever doubted it. She's been rooting for us from the start."

He tilted his head, feigning surprise. "You think so?"

I raised an eyebrow playfully. "Oh, I know so. She practically admitted to orchestrating this whole thing."

He laughed, a genuine, joyful sound that made my heart swell. "Sounds like Mum."

Taking a deep breath, he squeezed my hand. "Come on, let's head back inside before we both turn into snowmen."

As we walked back toward the house, our footsteps crunching softly in the snow, I felt an overwhelming sense of contentment. Harry opened the back door for me, and we stepped into the warm embrace of the kitchen.

Anne was bustling about, pretending to be engrossed in organizing the tea cupboard. She glanced over her shoulder as we entered, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.

"Enjoy your walk?" she asked innocently.

Harry smirked. "Caught us, did you?"

She turned, her eyes twinkling. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

I shook my head, laughing softly. "Your subtlety is unmatched, Anne."

She grinned unabashedly. "Well, I can't help it if my kitchen window happens to have the best view of the garden."

Harry rolled his eyes affectionately. "Right."

Anne stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on my arm. "In all seriousness, I'm so happy for you both."

"Thank you," I said, my voice sincere. "And thank you for... well, everything."

She waved a hand dismissively, but her eyes were warm. "Nonsense. I didn't do anything but give a little nudge here and there."

Harry glanced between us, feigning offense. "Wait a minute—are you telling me I've been set up?"

I laughed, nudging him lightly. "Looks like it."

Anne chuckled, patting his cheek. "Oh, hush. You needed the help."

He shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. "Unbelievable."

"Now," Anne declared, moving back toward the kettle, "who's up for another cup of tea? I think this calls for a celebration."

I exchanged a glance with Harry, both of us smiling. "I'd love one," I said.

"Make it three," Harry added, pulling out a chair for me at the kitchen table.

As we settled in, the three of us chatting and laughing, I couldn't help but feel that everything had fallen perfectly into place. The warmth of the tea, the glow of the kitchen lights, and the easy banter made the moment feel cozy and right.

Anne looked over at us, her expression softening. "You know, it's been a long time since I've seen both of you so happy."

Harry reached over to squeeze my hand. "Well, I've got a good reason."

I smiled back at him, feeling a blush rise to my cheeks. "Me too."

Anne sighed contentedly. "This is exactly what I was hoping for."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Careful, Mum. Your matchmaking is showing."

She laughed. "Well, I can't take all the credit. You two did the hard part."

We spent the next hour sharing stories and making plans, the earlier embarrassment forgotten. As the afternoon light began to fade, Harry stood up.

"Actually, Mum, I was thinking of taking Y/N to see that new exhibit at the gallery tomorrow. If she's interested, of course."

I looked up, pleasantly surprised. "I'd love to."

Anne beamed. "That sounds wonderful. You two go and enjoy yourselves."

Harry offered his hand to help me up. "Great. It's a date, then."

As we prepared to leave, Anne pulled me into a warm hug. "Welcome to the family, dear, officially.."

I hugged her back, my heart full. "Thank you, Anne. For everything."

The week flew by faster than I wanted it to, and before I knew it, the day had come for Harry to leave for America. He texted that morning to say he’d be stopping by on his way to the airport, and while I was grateful for the chance to say goodbye, the thought of him leaving left a dull ache in my chest.

When the knock came, I opened the door to find Harry standing there, dressed casually in a hoodie and jacket, his duffel bag slung over one shoulder. He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Hey,” he said softly, stepping inside and setting his bag down near the door.

“Hey,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady as I closed the door behind him. “Ready for the trip?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” he said with a small laugh, though there was a heaviness to his tone. He reached for my hand, threading his fingers through mine. “I wanted to see you before I left.”

I nodded, my chest tightening as I squeezed his hand. “I’m glad you did.”

We moved to the couch, sitting close as he wrapped an arm around me. For a moment, we just sat there in silence, the weight of the impending goodbye hanging in the air. I tried to be strong, but as I glanced at his duffel bag and realized I wouldn’t see him for weeks—maybe longer—the tears started to well up in my eyes.

“Y/N,” Harry said softly, noticing immediately. He turned to face me, his hand brushing against my cheek. “Don’t cry, love. Please.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice breaking as I tried to hold back the tears. “I didn’t want to do this—I promised myself I wouldn’t—but I’m going to miss you so much.”

His face softened, and he pulled me into his arms, holding me tightly. “I’m going to miss you too,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “More than you know.”

I buried my face against his chest, letting a few tears escape as he ran his hand soothingly up and down my back. “I know you have to go,” I said quietly, “but it just… it feels so hard to say goodbye.”

“It’s not goodbye,” he said firmly, pulling back just enough to tilt my chin up so I was looking at him. “It’s just ‘see you later.’ I’ll call you every chance I get, and as soon as I’m back, the first thing I’m doing is coming straight to you.”

I nodded, trying to take comfort in his words, though the ache in my chest didn’t ease. “Promise?”

“Promise,” he said, leaning down to kiss me gently. The kiss was soft and lingering, as if he was trying to pour every unspoken word into it.

When we finally pulled apart, he rested his forehead against mine, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re so important to me, Y/N. Don’t ever forget that.”

I smiled through my tears, reaching up to brush a stray curl from his forehead. “And you’re important to me.”

The sound of his phone vibrating broke the moment, and he sighed, pulling it from his pocket. “That’s my Uber. I have to go.”

I nodded, standing with him as he grabbed his bag. At the door, he turned back one last time, his eyes locking with mine. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

“I’ll be waiting,” I said softly, forcing a small smile.

He kissed me again, quick but full of warmth, before stepping out into the hallway. I watched him go, my heart heavy but hopeful, and as the door closed, I knew one thing for sure: no matter how far apart we were, Harry and I were in this together.

The weekend dragged on, each hour feeling heavier than the last. After Harry left, the silence in my apartment seemed louder, the once-comforting quiet now feeling hollow. I’d tried to distract myself—tidying up the kitchen, folding laundry, even putting on a movie—but nothing seemed to hold my attention for long.

Instead, I found myself moping around the apartment, replaying our goodbye in my head. His voice, his smile, the way he hugged me so tightly before he left—it all felt so vivid, like he was still here. But then reality would settle in again, and the ache in my chest would return.

I spent most of Saturday curled up on the couch in one of his old sweaters, a half-empty cup of tea cooling on the coffee table. My phone sat beside me, but I resisted the urge to text him, reminding myself he’d barely even landed yet. Instead, I scrolled absentmindedly through photos on my phone, pausing on the ones of us from the past week: Harry grinning at the garden, his arm slung casually around me at Anne’s house, the two of us laughing over cookies in my kitchen.

Sunday wasn’t much better. I tried to make myself productive, but even the simplest tasks felt draining. I stared at my bookshelf, thinking I might lose myself in a story, but every time I reached for a book, my mind wandered back to Harry.

By the evening, I was stretched out on the couch again, my blanket pulled tightly around me. The TV played a movie I wasn’t watching, the dialogue fading into the background as I stared at my phone. I hated feeling this way—so listless, so heavy—but I couldn’t shake it.

Then, just as I was about to turn the TV off and crawl into bed, my phone buzzed. I grabbed it instantly, my heart leaping when I saw his name on the screen.

Harry: Miss you already, love. What are you doing right now?

A smile broke across my face, and for the first time all weekend, the ache in my chest lightened. Maybe the distance was hard, but his message reminded me that I wasn’t alone in feeling this way. He missed me too.

I sat up, pulling the blanket tighter around me as I typed back.

Y/N: Moping around, missing you. What about you?

His reply came almost instantly.

Harry: Thinking about you. Do I need to fly back there and cheer you up?

I laughed softly, the sound breaking through the haze of my mood, and typed back quickly.

Y/N: As tempting as that sounds, I think I’ll be okay.

Harry: You’re stuck with me now.

A few weeks had passed, and life had slowly settled into a rhythm. Harry and I kept in touch through texts and FaceTime, and while I missed him more than I wanted to admit, hearing his voice and seeing his face, even through a screen, made the distance a little easier to bear.

One afternoon, I came home to find a small envelope waiting in my mailbox. It was addressed in elegant handwriting, and when I opened it, I was greeted by a beautifully designed invitation. My best friend was getting married. The date was just a few weeks away, and the location was back in the States.

Excited and surprised, I grabbed my phone and called her immediately. She picked up on the second ring, her voice light and cheerful.

“Y/N!” she said, already knowing why I was calling. “Did you get it?”

“I just opened it!” I said, grinning. “A wedding? When were you going to tell me? You’ve been holding out on me!”

She laughed. ���I wanted it to be a surprise. It’s not going to be a huge thing, just close friends and family, but I’d love it if you could come. You’re one of the most important people in my life—I couldn’t imagine getting married without you there.”

Her words made my chest tighten, a warmth spreading through me. “Of course, I’ll be there. I wouldn’t miss it for anything. Are you kidding me? It’s your wedding.”

“Good,” she said, a smile in her voice. “I didn’t think you’d say no, but I still had to hear you say yes.”

“When did you start planning this?” I asked, still processing the news. “I had no idea.”

“Quietly,” she admitted. “We didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. Just something small and meaningful. And now that you’re coming, it’s going to be perfect.”

“I can’t wait,” I said sincerely. “You’re going to be the most beautiful bride.”

She laughed softly. “We’ll see about that. Just get yourself here. That’s all that matters.”

After we hung up, I stared at the invitation again, my heart swelling with excitement. It had been too long since I’d seen her, and the thought of being there for such an important moment felt incredible. I couldn’t wait to celebrate her love story—and to feel a little piece of home again.

After I hung up, I stared at the invitation in my hands, excitement bubbling in my chest. But alongside the joy came a small pang of guilt. My best friend was getting married, sharing one of the most important milestones of her life, and I’d been keeping a secret—something I hadn’t planned to keep from her for so long.

I glanced at my phone, hesitating for just a moment before hitting redial. She picked up almost instantly.

“Y/N, what’s up? Forget to ask something?” she said, her tone light and teasing.

I laughed nervously, twirling the edge of the invitation between my fingers. “Kind of. I just… there’s something I need to tell you.”

Her tone shifted slightly, curious but still warm. “Okay. Spill. What’s on your mind?”

I took a deep breath, gathering the courage to explain. “So, you know how we were just talking about important people in each other’s lives?”

“Yeah?” she said, drawing out the word, clearly intrigued.

“Well,” I began slowly, “there’s someone in my life I haven’t mentioned yet. And… I feel bad for not telling you sooner.”

“Y/N,” she said, her voice softening. “You’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

I smiled despite my nerves, the warmth of her concern settling me. “It’s nothing bad. Actually, it’s really good. I’ve been… quietly dating someone.”

There was a pause on the other end, and then her voice rose, excitement bubbling through. “Wait, what? Y/N! Who is he? Why haven’t you told me? Spill everything, right now.”

I laughed, though my cheeks burned. “It’s kind of… well, it’s Harry, my boss’s son. Harry Styles.”

Silence followed, but only for a beat before she burst out laughing. “You’re joking. You have to be joking.”

“I’m not joking,” I said, smiling nervously. “It’s real. We’ve been seeing each other for a little while now. It’s still new, but… it’s real.”

There was another pause, and then a delighted squeal. “Oh my God, Y/N! You’re serious? You and Harry Styles? This is insane. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know how,” I admitted. “It’s been… a lot to figure out. And I didn’t want to overwhelm you with it. But now that you’re getting married, I just couldn’t keep it from you anymore.”

She let out an exaggerated sigh, though I could hear the smile in her voice. “You’re forgiven. But only because this is the best news I’ve heard in weeks. You have to tell me everything when you get here. Every single detail. Me and you. Hotel bar.”

I laughed, relief washing over me. “I promise. You’ll get the full story.”

“Good,” she said firmly. “And Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m so happy for you. You deserve this.”

Her words hit me squarely in the chest, and my smile softened. “Thank you. That means so much.”

“Now go start packing,” she said, her voice turning playful again. “I need my maid of honor looking fabulous when she meets my family.”

We laughed together before saying goodbye again, and as I hung up, the guilt I’d felt was replaced by a warm sense of relief. I couldn’t wait to share the details with her in person—and to see where this next chapter of our lives would take us.

That evening, as I settled onto the couch with my phone, Harry’s name lit up the screen. His familiar grin filled my heart with warmth as I picked up.

“Hey, love,” he said, his voice soft and full of affection. “How’s your day been?”

“Good,” I replied, smiling. “Actually, I have some news.”

“Oh?” he asked, intrigued. “What’s that?”

“I’m going to be a maid of honor,” I said, excitement bubbling in my voice. “My best friend’s getting married in New York in a few weeks, and she asked me to stand by her.”

Harry’s grin widened. “That’s amazing, Y/N. I bet she couldn’t imagine anyone better for the job.”

“She’s been one of my closest friends for years,” I said fondly. “I’m so excited for her. It’s a small wedding, just close friends and family, but it’s going to be so special.”

Harry’s voice turned playful. “So, what’s the plan for your maid of honor attire? Something chic? Dramatic? Full-on princess vibes?”

I laughed, rolling my eyes. “It’s her wedding, Harry. I’m not stealing the spotlight. She mentioned something about keeping it simple and elegant. I’m sure she’ll pick out a dress for me that fits the vibe.”

“I’m picturing you now,” he teased, his tone light but warm. “You’re going to look stunning, no matter what you wear.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” I joked, feeling my cheeks heat.

“It’s not flattery if it’s true,” he shot back, his grin evident in his voice. “Now I’m wishing I could be there to see you walk down the aisle.”

I smiled softly, his words tugging at my heart. “You’ll be there in spirit.”

“Still doesn’t feel like enough,” he said, his tone turning thoughtful. “But I guess I’ll just have to settle for pictures—lots of pictures.”

“You’ll get plenty,” I promised. “And I’ll tell you all about it afterward.”

“Deal,” he said, his voice lighter again. “And if you need someone to practice your maid of honor speech on, you know where to find me.”

I laughed, feeling the warmth of his care wrap around me, even across the distance. The excitement of the wedding had been enough to brighten my day, but sharing it with Harry made it all the more special.

A few weeks later, the day of the wedding trip arrived, and I flew to New York City, excitement buzzing through me. After checking into the hotel where the ceremony would take place, I met up with my best friend, her enthusiasm matching mine. We hugged tightly, laughing and catching up before deciding to head down to the hotel bar for a celebratory drink.

The bar was cozy and bustling, and before long, the laughter between us grew louder, fueled by the cocktails we kept ordering. Somewhere between my second and third drink, she leaned in with a knowing smile.

“So,” she began, drawing out the word, “tell me everything about Harry. What’s he really like?”

I grinned, the warmth of the drinks making me more open than usual. “He’s… incredible,” I said, my voice softening. “He’s kind and thoughtful, always checking in to see how I’m doing. He makes me laugh so much, and he has this way of making me feel like the most important person in the world.”

She rested her chin on her hand, grinning like a schoolgirl. “Okay, I’m obsessed already. He sounds amazing. And ridiculously charming.”

“Oh, he is,” I said with a laugh. “Sometimes it’s almost unfair. But he’s also so genuine. He doesn’t just say sweet things—he backs them up with actions.”

My best friend sighed dramatically, raising her glass. “Here’s to the perfect boyfriend. And to you, for snagging him.”

We clinked glasses, laughing again as the drinks kept flowing. By the time we were both thoroughly drunk, she was looking at me with a mischievous glint in her eye.

“You know what we need to do?” she said, pulling my phone out of my purse.

I blinked, trying to focus. “What?”

“We need to call him,” she said, already scrolling through my contacts. “He needs to come to the wedding. He can’t miss this.”

“What?” I said, reaching for my phone, but my reflexes were dulled by the alcohol. “No! He’s busy. He’s—”

“Hello? Harry?” she said, cutting me off as the call connected. My eyes widened as I heard his voice on the other end.

“Uh, yeah, this is Harry,” he said, sounding a mix of amused and confused. “Who’s this?”

“It’s Y/N’s best friend,” she said brightly, her words slurring slightly. “Listen, you’re amazing, and she talks about you all the time. You need to get on a plane and come to this wedding. We’re going to party, and you can’t miss it.”

There was a pause, and then Harry laughed, his voice warm. “She’s been drinking, hasn’t she?”

I groaned, covering my face with my hands. “Harry, I’m so sorry. She stole my phone.”

“It’s fine, love,” he said, his tone light and teasing. “This is definitely the highlight of my night.”

“Seriously, though,” my friend continued, undeterred. “She’s amazing, and you’re amazing, and you belong here. Come on, Harry. Be the romantic hero.”

Harry chuckled again, clearly entertained. “I’ll see what I can do. But you might want to get her some water before she plans a whole flight for me.”

“She’s fine,” my friend insisted, grinning. “But you’re officially invited. Think about it.”

“I will,” Harry said, his voice softening. “Now, make sure she gets back to her room safely, all right?”

I finally managed to grab the phone, my face burning with embarrassment. “Harry, I’m so sorry about that.”

“Don’t be,” he said, laughing. “It’s good to know I have a fan club.”

I sighed, but his lightheartedness eased some of my embarrassment. “I’ll call you tomorrow when I’m sober. Promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” he said warmly. “Goodnight, love.”

As I ended the call, my best friend leaned back in her chair, looking far too pleased with herself.

“You’re welcome,” she said smugly.

I couldn’t help but laugh, despite the mortification. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you love me for it,” she said with a grin, raising her glass for another toast. And despite everything, I couldn’t deny that she was absolutely right.

As the laughter subsided and I tried to process the chaos of my friend calling Harry, she leaned forward again, her eyes sparkling with a new mischievous idea.

“All right, spill,” she said, her tone dripping with curiosity. “How good is he in bed? I mean, come on, it’s Harry Styles.”

My face immediately flushed, the alcohol making my usual filter non-existent. “We, uh… we haven’t done anything like that yet.”

Her jaw dropped, her expression a mix of shock and exaggerated disappointment. “What?! You’re telling me you’ve been dating Harry freaking Styles, and you haven’t gotten lucky yet?”

I laughed nervously, waving a hand as if to brush it off. “It’s not like that. We’ve been so busy—his schedule’s insane, and when we’re together, the moment just… hasn’t felt right.”

She groaned dramatically, throwing her head back. “That’s it. If he comes to the wedding, you have to make it happen.”

“Oh my God, stop,” I said, laughing and covering my face. “It’s not something I can just plan!”

“Sure, you can!” she said, slapping the table. “You’re the maid of honor, he’s the ridiculously sexy boyfriend. It’s practically a movie. You two sneak away during the reception, the sparks fly—boom, best night ever!”

I shook my head, trying not to laugh too hard at her drunken theatrics. “You’re ridiculous.”

“No,” she said, pointing a finger at me, her face serious despite her tipsy sway. “What’s ridiculous is that Harry Styles is in love with you, and you haven’t jumped him yet. If he gets here, you owe it to yourself. And to me, for the record. I need to live vicariously through this.”

I couldn’t stop laughing, my cheeks burning as I buried my face in my hands. “You’re insane.”

“And you love me for it,” she replied with a triumphant grin, raising her glass for another toast. “Here’s to Harry, your wedding date, and your impending fairytale night.”

I clinked my glass against hers, still laughing. “You’re absolutely wild.”

She leaned back in her chair, a smug smile on her face. “You know I’m right, though.”

As much as I tried to brush off her antics, her words lingered in my mind, equal parts embarrassing and amusing. And deep down, I couldn’t help but wonder if she might just be onto something.

Later that night, my phone buzzed on the nightstand of my hotel room as I clumsily changed into pajamas. Still a bit tipsy from the bar, I grabbed it, squinting at the screen. Harry’s name lit up, and a wide, silly grin spread across my face as I answered.

“Helloooo,” I drawled, dragging out the word in an exaggerated sing-song tone.

Harry chuckled on the other end, his voice warm and familiar. “Hi, love. Someone’s had a fun night, I take it?”

“You could say that,” I replied, flopping onto the bed and giggling. “We may have had… one or two drinks. Or three.”

“Sounds like it,” he said, clearly amused. “Well, I’ve got some news. I pulled a few strings, rearranged a couple of things, and… I can be your date to the wedding.”

The excitement hit me instantly, and I let out a loud, dramatic gasp. “You’re kidding! Harry Styles, the one and only, coming to my best friend’s wedding? I can’t believe it!”

He laughed, his tone softening. “Yeah, it’s happening. I didn’t want you going through it without me.”

“You’re the best,” I said, my words slurring slightly as I hugged a pillow. “Seriously. You’re, like, the nicest, sweetest, best boyfriend in the universe.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” he teased. “So, what’s the plan for the wedding? Are you ready for your maid of honor duties?”

“Totally ready,” I said, giggling. “Except my friend… oh my God, she’s gonna love you. But she said something so wild tonight.”

Harry hummed, his tone curious. “Oh? What’s that?”

I hesitated for a moment, then burst into laughter. “She said… she said we need to ‘get lucky together’ at the wedding.”

There was a beat of silence, and then Harry let out a deep, warm laugh. “She said what?”

“Yup!” I replied, laughing so hard tears pricked my eyes. “She was all like, ‘You’re dating Harry Styles, and you haven’t yet? If he comes to the wedding, you have to make it happen.’ Like, she was so serious. It was hilarious.”

Harry chuckled, the sound low and amused. “Sounds like she’s your biggest cheerleader.”

“Oh, she definitely is,” I said, grinning. “She’s wild, but she means well.”

“Well,” Harry said, his voice teasing, “far be it from me to disappoint your friend. If that’s what’s on her wishlist…”

I let out an exaggerated gasp, laughing. “Harry Edward Styles, you are terrible!”

“Terrible? Or just dedicated to fulfilling my duties as your boyfriend?” he quipped, the grin evident in his voice.

I dissolved into giggles, rolling onto my back. “You’re ridiculous. But you’re my ridiculous.”

“Exactly,” he said warmly. “Now, get some sleep, love. We can talk more when you’re not quite so… festive.”

“Festive,” I repeated, laughing softly. “Okay, fine. Goodnight, Harry. And thank you for coming to the wedding.”

“Anything for you,” he said, his voice soft. “Goodnight, Y/N. Sweet dreams.”

As I hung up, my heart felt lighter, the excitement of seeing him again making everything feel a little brighter—even through the haze of my drunken antics.

The next morning, a sharp knock at my hotel room door jolted me awake. Groaning, I buried my face in the pillow, my head pounding slightly from the night before.

“Y/N!” my best friend’s voice called through the door. “Get up, sleepyhead. We’re going to breakfast, and then we’re shopping. No arguments.”

I forced myself out of bed, dragging a hand through my hair as I shuffled to the door. When I opened it, she was standing there, bright-eyed and holding a cup of coffee, looking far more awake than I felt.

“Morning!” she chirped, thrusting the coffee into my hands. “Drink this. We’ve got plans.”

I took the cup gratefully, my voice groggy. “Plans? What kind of plans?”

“Wedding shopping, duh,” she said, pushing her way into the room. “I need a new set of lingerie for my wedding night, and you, my dear, are coming with me. We’re going to find something fabulous.”

I blinked at her, still half-asleep. “You’re dragging me lingerie shopping before I’ve even had breakfast?”

“Yes,” she said with a grin. “But don’t worry, breakfast is first. Oh, and while we’re shopping, you should pick out something slinky for Harry.”

My face instantly flushed, and I nearly choked on my coffee. “What?”

“You heard me,” she said, smirking as she flopped onto the edge of my bed. “If he’s coming to the wedding—and thank you, drunk me, for making that happen—you might as well make it a trip to remember.”

“You’re insane,” I said, laughing despite my embarrassment.

“And you love me for it,” she replied smugly. “Now hurry up and get dressed. We’ve got a lot to do today.”

Shaking my head, I set the coffee down and started pulling clothes from my suitcase. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I know,” she said with a wink. “Now, let’s get moving. We’ve got to find you something that’ll make Harry’s jaw drop.”

Despite the teasing, I couldn’t help but laugh as I got ready, her energy infectious. The thought of shopping for something like that was a little nerve-wracking, but her playful attitude made it hard not to feel excited about the day ahead.

After I got dressed and downed the coffee she brought, we headed down to the hotel’s restaurant for breakfast. The smell of fresh pastries and brewed coffee was heavenly, and as we sat by the window overlooking the bustling streets of New York City, I felt the lingering fog of last night’s drinks start to clear.

“So,” she said, leaning back in her chair with a sly grin, “are you going to take my advice and pick out something jaw-dropping?”

“For you or for me?” I asked, raising an eyebrow as I took a bite of my croissant.

“For you, obviously,” she said, rolling her eyes. “This is your chance to show Harry the full package. You know, give him a reason to never let you out of his sight again.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “You act like he needs convincing. He’s coming to your wedding, isn’t he?”

“Yes, because I made the call of the century,” she said proudly, sipping her coffee. “But still, a little extra effort never hurts.”

“And you’re just dying to drag me into some lingerie shop, aren’t you?” I teased, smirking.

“Absolutely,” she said without hesitation. “You’ve always been too modest. It’s time to embrace the fun of it. Besides, it’s not like you’ll be the only one shopping for someone special.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at my lips. “Fine, we’ll see. But don’t expect me to go full-on runway model.”

“Oh, I won’t push too hard,” she said, her grin widening. “But I’ll know the perfect set when I see it. Trust me.”

After breakfast, we ventured out into the city, hopping in and out of boutiques and shops, her energy as high as ever. At every store, she’d pull me toward the lingerie section, holding up items she deemed “Harry-worthy.”

“How about this?” she asked, holding up a sleek black lace set.

I blushed, shaking my head. “A little much, don’t you think?”

“Not for Harry,” she said with a wink. “Okay, how about this one?” She turned to a bold red satin number, the color striking against the delicate fabric.

“You’re relentless,” I said, laughing.

“Of course I am,” she replied, tossing the set into my arms. “Try it. You’ll thank me later.”

Despite my initial hesitation, I let her drag me into a dressing room, her over-the-top encouragement keeping me laughing the whole time. By the end of the trip, she’d found the perfect set for herself, while I begrudgingly admitted that she might have been right about hers for me.

Back at the hotel, we sprawled out on her bed, bags around us as we recapped the day.

“I can’t believe you actually convinced me,” I said, holding up the small shopping bag.

She grinned, clearly pleased with herself. “You’ll thank me when Harry sees you in that.”

“You’re impossible,” I said, laughing.

“And you’re about to have the best wedding date of your life,” she shot back, tossing a pillow at me.

As I looked at the bag, a mixture of nerves and excitement stirred in me.

Later that evening, nerves and excitement churned in my stomach as I waited for my Uber to arrive. Harry’s flight had landed, and I was heading to the airport to pick him up. My heart raced as I thought about seeing him again—it had felt like an eternity since we’d last been together.

The ride to the airport felt longer than it probably was, the anticipation making every mile stretch. When we finally pulled up, I stepped out into the cool night air, glancing around as I headed inside. The hustle and bustle of the terminal faded into the background as I made my way to the baggage claim, checking my phone for updates on his flight.

Then I saw him.

Harry stood near the carousel, his hands in the pockets of his jacket, his curls slightly tousled from the flight. Even in the chaos of the airport, he looked calm and effortlessly put together. When his eyes met mine, his face broke into a wide smile that made my chest tighten.

Without thinking, I ran to him, weaving through the crowd until I reached him. “Harry!” I called, my voice light with excitement.

Before I could say anything else, his arms wrapped around me, lifting me off the ground as he spun me in a circle. I laughed, holding onto him tightly, the familiar warmth of his embrace flooding through me.

“I missed you,” he murmured, his voice soft and full of affection as he pressed his face into my neck. “And you smell incredible.”

I laughed again, my cheeks flushing. “It’s just my usual perfume.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he said, setting me down but keeping his arms around me. “It’s you. You always smell amazing.”

I looked up at him, my hands resting on his chest as I took him in. His green eyes sparkled under the harsh airport lights, his grin soft and genuine. “I missed you too,” I said quietly, the words carrying so much more than they seemed.

“Well, I’m here now,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “And I don’t plan on letting you out of my sight.”

After we left the airport, the car ride back to the hotel was filled with easy laughter and light conversation. Harry held my hand the entire time, his thumb brushing softly over my knuckles as we caught up on everything we hadn’t said over texts and calls. Being with him again felt so natural, like no time had passed at all.

When we reached the hotel, I led him up to my room. He dropped his bag by the door and glanced around, taking in the space with a small smile. “Cozy,” he said, his voice warm.

“It does the job,” I replied, grinning as I kicked off my shoes and went to grab a bottle of water from the mini-fridge. As I handed him one, a thought struck me. “Oh! Do you want to see my dress for the wedding?”

His eyes lit up, and he leaned against the desk, crossing his arms. “Absolutely. Show me what the maid of honor will be rocking.”

I laughed, walking over to the closet where the dress hung neatly in its garment bag. I unzipped it carefully and pulled it out, holding it up for him to see. The dress was elegant and understated, a soft blush color with delicate lace detailing along the neckline and sleeves. The flowing skirt gave it a romantic, timeless feel.

Harry’s gaze softened as he took it in, his smile widening. “It’s beautiful,” he said, his voice sincere. “You’re going to look stunning in that.”

“You think so?” I asked, feeling a little self-conscious as I draped it over the back of a chair.

“I know so,” he replied, stepping closer. “But let’s be honest—you’d look stunning in anything.”

I rolled my eyes playfully, though my cheeks warmed at his compliment. “You’re too sweet.”

He reached out, pulling me gently into his arms. “Just telling the truth,” he said softly, his hands resting lightly on my waist. “Can I say something without sounding completely selfish?”

“Of course,” I said, tilting my head to look up at him.

“I’m so glad I’m here to see you in this,” he said, his grin turning a little sheepish. “I didn’t want to miss this moment—or you.”

My heart swelled at his words, and I smiled, resting my hands on his chest. “I’m glad you’re here too. It wouldn’t have felt the same without you.”

He leaned down, brushing a soft kiss against my forehead. “Well, now you’ve got me, and I don’t plan on going anywhere.”

The dress hung behind me as Harry held me close, the promise of the wedding and the days ahead filling the room with a sense of excitement and possibility.

As we stood by the chair where my maid of honor dress hung, Harry’s gaze drifted around the room, taking in the little details. His eyes landed on the small shopping bag sitting on the table near the window, the faintest smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“What’s that?” he asked, nodding toward it.

My eyes widened as I followed his gaze, and my cheeks flushed instantly. “Nothing!” I said quickly, darting over to the table and grabbing the bag.

“Nothing?” he repeated, the smirk growing. “You got nothing at a lingerie store?”

“It’s not what you think,” I mumbled, fumbling to open my suitcase and stuff the bag inside, my back to him.

“Uh-huh,” he said, leaning casually against the desk, his tone full of amusement. “You’re being very subtle about it.”

“Drop it, Harry,” I said, though the laugh bubbling up in my chest made it hard to sound serious.

“Fine, fine,” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender, though his grin didn’t waver. “But for the record, I’m very intrigued by this ‘nothing’ you’re hiding.”

I shot him a playful glare, zipping up the suitcase and turning back to face him. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re adorable when you’re flustered,” he teased, stepping closer and brushing a hand lightly down my arm. “But I’ll behave… for now.”

The warmth in his eyes made my heart flutter, and despite my embarrassment, I couldn’t help but laugh. “Good. Now, are you done snooping around my hotel room?”

“For now,” he said with a wink, his grin turning softer. “But only because I’m more interested in spending time with you.”

Shaking my head, I let him pull me back into his arms, the earlier moment fading into laughter.

After a quiet evening catching up and unwinding from the long day, Harry and I began getting ready for bed. The excitement of seeing him again and the anticipation of my best friend’s wedding the next morning made my heart feel full. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm light as I pulled out a pair of comfy pajamas, glancing over to see Harry stretched out on the bed, scrolling through his phone with a relaxed smile.

“You ready for tomorrow?” he asked, looking up at me as I climbed into bed.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied with a smile, settling in beside him. “It’s going to be a beautiful day.”

“It will be,” he said, leaning over to kiss my forehead. “And you’re going to be amazing.”

The room fell into a peaceful silence as we both drifted off, the hum of the city outside muffled by the thick curtains. I woke early the next morning, the excitement of the day pulling me out of sleep before my alarm even went off. Carefully, I slipped out of bed, glancing back at Harry, who was still sleeping soundly. He looked peaceful, his hair tousled and his expression soft.

I leaned over, gently pressing a kiss to his temple. “I’ll see you downstairs,” I whispered, not wanting to wake him fully.

He stirred slightly, murmuring something incoherent before settling back into the pillows. Smiling, I grabbed my dress and makeup bag and quietly left the room, heading downstairs to join the bridal party.

The hotel’s ballroom was already a flurry of activity when I arrived. My best friend greeted me with a hug, her face glowing with excitement as she ushered me over to where the hairstylist and makeup artist were setting up.

“You ready for this?” she asked, her grin wide as she handed me a cup of coffee.

“Absolutely,” I said, matching her energy. “Let’s get you married.”

The morning flew by in a whirlwind of preparations—hair, makeup, last-minute adjustments to dresses—and the energy in the room was electric. As I helped my best friend into her wedding gown, I couldn’t help but think about how perfect the day was shaping up to be. And knowing that Harry would be there to share it with me made it feel even more special.

The ceremony was beautiful, every detail reflecting the love my best friend and her fiancé shared. The hotel ballroom was elegantly decorated with soft florals and candles that flickered gently, casting a warm glow over the guests. As I stood beside her, holding her bouquet and witnessing her vows, my heart swelled with happiness for her.

But I wasn’t unaware of Harry. Sitting a few rows back, he watched me with a soft intensity that made my chest tighten. I could feel his gaze, a silent support that steadied me through the emotional ceremony. When I glanced at him briefly, his small, encouraging smile sent a wave of warmth through me.

After the ceremony, the reception buzzed with excitement and laughter. The ballroom had been transformed into a space of celebration, with tables adorned with candles and flowers, and a dance floor waiting for its first guests. Toasts had begun, and as the maid of honor, it was my turn.

When I stood to speak, a hush fell over the room. Harry’s eyes found mine instantly, his expression filled with pride and encouragement. I smiled at my best friend and her new spouse, holding a small piece of paper in my trembling hands.

“I thought about what I could say to you today,” I began, my voice steady but soft. “About how much you mean to me, about the love you’ve found, and about this beautiful journey you’re starting. But nothing I could say felt big enough, important enough, or true enough. So, I wrote you this.”

I glanced down at the poem I had poured my heart into, the words flowing as naturally as the love I felt for her. My voice softened as I read:

"In the quiet of your laughter, And the light within your smile, I’ve seen the kind of love that grows, A flame that warms for miles.

You’ve built a home within each other, A place no storm could break. A bond that holds, through highs and lows, No matter what’s at stake.

So as you walk this path together, A future bold and true, Know my heart is here, forever, Cheering both of you."

As I finished, my voice broke slightly, the emotions catching up to me. Tears glistened in my best friend’s eyes, and as she reached out to take my hand, I realized I wasn’t the only one crying. A quiet sniffle from the crowd told me others had been moved too, including Harry, whose gaze was warm and full of admiration.

“You’re impossible,” my best friend said through her tears, pulling me into a hug. “How am I supposed to top that?”

“You don’t have to,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “Just be happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”

The room broke into applause as we hugged tightly, and I returned to my seat, feeling lighter and fuller all at once. As I sat down beside Harry, he reached over to squeeze my hand, his smile soft and full of pride.

“That,” he whispered, leaning close, “was incredible. You have no idea how amazing you are, do you?”

I looked at him, my heart swelling once again. “I’m starting to get the idea.”

As the music played and the reception buzzed with energy, my best friend walked over, her wedding dress flowing elegantly as she approached Harry and me at our table. Her face lit up with a mix of gratitude and playfulness, and before I could say a word, she pulled me into a tight hug.

“Y/N, you made me cry in front of everyone,” she said with mock indignation, though her voice was thick with emotion. “That poem was beautiful. I’ll never forget it.”

I hugged her back, smiling. “You deserve every word, and then some.”

Pulling back, she turned her attention to Harry, her smile widening. “And you must be the famous Harry Styles I’ve heard so much about.”

Harry stood and extended a hand, his grin charming as ever. “Guilty as charged. You must be the bride who’s been giving Y/N all this grief about me.”

She laughed, shaking his hand before placing her other hand on her hip. “Well, someone had to give her a push. But now that I’ve met you, I think you’re worth it.”

Harry chuckled, glancing at me. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

The three of us chatted for a while, the conversation light and full of teasing. My best friend, always the life of the party, had Harry laughing within minutes, and I couldn’t help but feel a surge of warmth at how easily they clicked.

Eventually, she sighed dramatically, glancing around the room. “All right, I should go mingle with the rest of these people. It’s my party, after all.”

She leaned in to give me one last hug, her voice dropping to a mischievous whisper in my ear. “You two are ridiculously lucky. And I hope you get really lucky tonight.”

I froze for a moment, my cheeks instantly heating as I pulled back, glaring at her playfully. “Oh my God, stop,” I hissed, but she just laughed, giving me a wink before gliding away into the crowd.

Harry noticed my flustered expression and raised an eyebrow, his tone teasing. “What did she say?”

“Nothing,” I said quickly, waving him off.

His smirk deepened as he sat back down. “Whatever it was, it’s clearly not ‘nothing.’”

I rolled my eyes, trying to hide my smile. “Let’s just say she’s in full bride-mode mischief and leave it at that.”

Harry laughed, reaching over to take my hand. “Fair enough. But remind me to thank her for all the meddling—seems like it paid off.”

As we sat there, watching the celebration unfold around us, I couldn’t help but feel a little giddy. Between the happiness of the day and the man sitting beside me, everything felt just right. And though I tried to brush off my friend’s teasing, her words lingered, filling me with a mix of nerves and excitement for whatever the night might hold.

Once the energy of the night began to mellow, Harry and I exchanged a knowing look, both feeling the pull of exhaustion. The day had been incredible, but the hours of celebration were catching up to us.

“You ready to head up?” he asked softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face.

I nodded, smiling. “Yeah, I think I’m about ready to call it a night.”

We said our goodbyes to my best friend, who was still glowing with joy, and made our way to the elevator. The ride up to the room was quiet, a comfortable silence filled with the warmth of the day’s memories. When we stepped into the room, Harry dropped his jacket onto the chair and stretched, running a hand through his curls.

“I’m going to hop in the shower,” I said, grabbing my pajamas—and the little lingerie bag—from my suitcase. Harry, half-distracted by pulling off his tie, waved me off with a smile.

“Take your time,” he said, his voice soft.

In the bathroom, I turned on the hot water, letting it steam up the mirror as I slipped out of my dress. The shower was refreshing, washing away the day’s excitement and leaving me with a fluttering mix of nerves and anticipation. As I dried off, I glanced at the little bag, my friend’s teasing words echoing in my mind.

Taking a deep breath, I slipped the lingerie on, the delicate fabric hugging my skin. It was far more daring than anything I’d normally wear, but tonight felt like the right moment to step outside my comfort zone. Over it, I pulled on a light robe, tying it loosely at the waist.

When I opened the bathroom door, the room was softly lit by the bedside lamp. Harry was sitting on the edge of the bed, scrolling through his phone. He looked up as I stepped out, his casual expression freezing the moment his eyes landed on me.

“Y/N…” he said, his voice trailing off as he set his phone down, Harry's eyes fixed on me, his gaze slowly sweeping up and down my body. He rose from the bed, his eyes never leaving mine as he approached. "What do you think?" I whispered, my fingers playing with the edge of my silk robe.

"You're...breathtaking," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. His hand reached out to trace the curve of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. His other hand found the tie of my robe, gently tugging it loose before pushing the fabric off my shoulders to reveal my lacy bra and panties beneath.

I smiled coyly, emboldened by his hungry stare. The way he looked at me made me feel powerful and irresistible. As he stepped closer, I reached out and unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his toned chest and tattooed abdomen. I ran my fingers over his smooth skin, feeling his muscles tense beneath my touch.

When our lips met in a searing kiss, Harry's hands roamed over me, exploring the swell of my breasts and the curve of my hips. His fingers dipped beneath the lace waistband of my panties, teasingly brushing against me before sliding them down to expose me completely.

"I need you inside me," I whispered into his ear as I unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. His rigid length sprang free, pulsing with need. Eagerly, I stroked as I guided him towards my entrance.

He entered me slowly at first, allowing me time to adjust to his size before steadily picking up the pace. Our bodies moved in perfect harmony as we tangled ourselves in each other's heat and passion. Each thrust seemed to take us both higher until we were dancing on the edge of release.

I arched beneath him as he hit a particularly sensitive spot deep within me; my fingernails dug into the muscles of his back as waves of pleasure surged through me. Harry's breath came in increasingly ragged gasps, his green eyes locked on mine, full of unabashed lust.

As our bodies melted together, he buried his face in the crook of my neck, muffling his groans while I cried out in ecstasy. Our climax reverberated through us, leaving us both trembling and sated as we clung to one another.

Later, as we lay side by side in the soft glow of the hotel room, I couldn’t help but turn toward Harry, my heart full and my mind quiet for the first time all day. The sheets were a mess around us, and the faint hum of the city outside provided a soothing backdrop to the intimacy of the moment.

Harry’s face was turned slightly toward me, his eyes closed, his breathing slow and steady. The subtle rise and fall of his chest, the way his curls fell messily across his forehead, and the softness in his expression all struck me in a way that made my chest tighten. Even in sleep—or maybe especially in sleep—he was breathtaking.

His lips, slightly parted, held the faintest curve, like he was caught in a pleasant dream. His lashes were long, fanning out delicately against his cheekbones, and the soft stubble along his jawline added a ruggedness that only seemed to amplify his beauty. The golden light from the bedside lamp highlighted the contours of his face, casting gentle shadows that made him look like something out of a painting.

I traced his features with my eyes, memorizing every detail, every curve and line that made him him. The dimple in his chin, the faint freckles that dusted his skin, and the slight crease in his brow that softened when I gently brushed his curls back from his forehead.

He stirred slightly at the touch, his lips twitching into a small smile even though his eyes remained closed. His hand found mine under the sheets, his fingers intertwining with mine like it was second nature.

“You’re staring,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep but carrying that familiar warmth.

I smiled, leaning closer until my forehead lightly rested against his. “Can you blame me?” I whispered. “You’re beautiful.”

His eyes opened, just a sliver, enough for me to see the flicker of amusement and affection in their green depths. “You’re biased,” he said, his lips curving fully into a smile now.

“Maybe,” I replied softly, my thumb brushing over his hand. “But it doesn’t make it any less true.”

Harry let out a low chuckle, his voice rumbling in a way that made my heart flutter. “You’ve got it backwards, love. You’re the beautiful one.”

I shook my head slightly, a shy laugh escaping me. “We can argue about it later. Just… let me enjoy this.”

He sighed contentedly, closing his eyes again and tightening his hold on my hand. “Enjoy all you want. I’m not going anywhere.”

And as I lay there beside him, the world outside fading into the background, I felt a deep sense of peace. There was no place I’d rather be than here, wrapped in the quiet warmth of Harry and the soft glow of a love that felt like it could light up the entire world.

Harry broke the peaceful silence, his voice low and tinged with something heavy. “I don’t want to leave tomorrow.”

The words hit me softly but deeply, and I turned my head to look at him. His green eyes were open now, gazing at me with an honesty that made my chest tighten. He wasn’t trying to hide the sadness in his voice, and it mirrored the ache that had already begun to form in me.

“I don’t either,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “It feels like we just got here.”

His hand, still holding mine under the sheets, tightened slightly. “This whole long-distance thing,” he said with a small, rueful smile, “it’s not exactly my favorite.”

I let out a soft laugh, though it lacked humor. “Mine either. But we’re making it work.”

“Barely,” he muttered, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “I just… it’s hard leaving you.”

I shifted closer, resting my forehead against his, our noses just barely touching. “I know,” I whispered. “It’s hard for me too.”

“My flight’s not until the afternoon,” he said after a moment, his voice quieter now. “But yours is early, isn’t it?”

I nodded reluctantly. “Yeah. Morning flight back to London. I’ll probably have to leave the hotel while you’re still sleeping.”

The thought made my chest ache even more. Leaving him here, knowing we’d be apart again, felt unbearable. Harry sighed, his eyes closing as he rested his forehead more firmly against mine.

“I hate the idea of waking up and not seeing you,” he said softly, the vulnerability in his voice breaking down the walls I’d tried to build to stay strong.

“Me too,” I whispered, my hand finding its way to his cheek. I stroked it gently, feeling the roughness of his stubble under my fingertips. “But we’ll get through it. I have hope.”

He opened his eyes again, the depth of his gaze pulling me in. “I know we will,” he said, his voice steady despite the sadness. “I just wish I could keep you here with me. Or come back with you.”

My throat tightened, and I had to fight back tears as I nodded. “I wish that too. Every time.”

Harry let out a soft sigh, pulling me into his arms and holding me close. “Then let’s just make tonight count,” he murmured against my hair. “No thinking about tomorrow. Just you and me.”

I nodded against his chest, wrapping my arms around him. “Just us,” I agreed softly.

And for the rest of the night, we held on to each other like we were trying to make time stop, savoring every touch, every word, every moment as if it were the only thing that mattered—because to us, it was.

The alarm buzzed softly in the dark room, and I reached out to silence it, careful not to disturb Harry. The early morning light barely peeked through the curtains as I sat up, my heart heavy with the knowledge that I’d have to leave him behind.

I turned to look at him, still sound asleep, his curls a mess against the pillow, his breathing steady and soft. He looked so peaceful, and the thought of waking him to say goodbye felt too cruel. Instead, I leaned down, pressing the gentlest kiss to his temple, letting my lips linger for just a moment.

Quietly, I slipped out of bed, gathering my things and moving around the room as silently as possible. My suitcase was packed, my heart ached, and as I looked at him one last time, I knew I couldn’t leave without something more.

I found the notepad on the desk by the window, the hotel’s logo printed at the top, and grabbed a pen. Sitting down, I took a deep breath and began to write, the words flowing easily despite the tightness in my chest:

Harry,

I didn’t want to wake you—I know how much you hate goodbyes. But I couldn’t leave without saying how much this trip has meant to me. Being here with you, even for such a short time, reminds me how lucky I am to have you in my life. You make everything brighter, better, and more beautiful.

I’ll miss you more than I can say, but I’ll hold on to the memory of this time until we’re together again. Thank you for being you, for caring about me the way you do, and for coming to this wedding to make it unforgettable.

Call me when you wake up. And don’t forget—this isn’t goodbye. It’s just ‘see you later.’

Love, Y/N

I folded the note neatly and placed it on the bedside table, propping it up against the lamp so he’d see it as soon as he woke up. My chest ached as I looked at him one last time, my heart wishing for just a few more minutes.

But time wasn’t on our side. With a deep breath, I grabbed my suitcase and slipped quietly out of the room, the sound of the door clicking shut behind me feeling far too final.

As I made my way to the airport, the thought of Harry waking up and reading my note brought me a small comfort, even as the distance between us began to grow again.

The flight back to England was everything I dreaded—a cold, uncomfortable reminder of how far I was traveling from Harry. The cabin air was chilly, no matter how tightly I wrapped the airline blanket around myself, and the hum of the engines only made the hours drag on longer. I tried to distract myself by reading or watching the in-flight entertainment, but my thoughts kept drifting back to the warmth of his arms and the soft sound of his laugh.

I stared out the window at the endless expanse of clouds, my reflection faint against the glass. My chest ached with the weight of our goodbye, and though I knew we’d see each other again, the distance felt like a physical barrier that was harder to bear with every passing mile.

When the plane finally touched down in London, the dreary sky mirrored my mood. I made my way through customs and baggage claim on autopilot, my suitcase trailing behind me as I navigated the familiar airport. By the time I stepped outside, the brisk air hit me, making me shiver and pull my coat tighter.

All I could think about was the comfort of my own bed, the one place that felt like home when everything else seemed to shift. The drive back to my flat felt endless, and when I finally unlocked the door and stepped inside, the silence hit me harder than I expected.

I left my suitcase by the door and went straight to my room, kicking off my shoes and collapsing onto the bed without bothering to change out of my travel clothes. The soft sheets enveloped me, and I closed my eyes, letting the familiar scent and warmth of my space soothe the ache in my chest.

I reached for my phone, staring at the screen, hoping for a message from Harry. As if on cue, the device buzzed, and his name lit up the screen.

Harry: You made it back, yeah? Hope you’re curled up in bed—it’s what you deserve after that flight.

A small smile tugged at my lips as I typed back.

Y/N: Just got in. You know me too well—already under the covers. Miss you.

His reply came almost instantly.

Harry: Miss you more. Rest up, love. I’ll call you in a bit, okay?

I set the phone down, the comfort of his words settling over me like a second blanket. As much as I hated the distance, knowing he was just a message or call away made it a little easier. For now, I let the exhaustion of the day take over, letting sleep claim me in the quiet warmth of my own bed.

The next morning, sunlight streamed through my curtains, waking me far earlier than I wanted. I stretched lazily, still groggy from the long travel day, when my phone buzzed on the nightstand. I reached for it, rubbing my eyes as I unlocked the screen. A text from Mitch lit up the screen, and I smiled immediately.

Mitch: Hey, just checking in. Hope you’re settling back in after that long flight. H sent me some pics of us in the studio yesterday—thought you might like to see what he’s been up to.

Attached were a few photos, and I couldn’t help but grin as I opened them. The first was a candid shot of Harry at the mic, his hair a tousled mess and his eyes closed as he sang. His passion was evident, the intensity on his face a reminder of how much he loved what he did.

The second photo was of Mitch and Harry together, both of them laughing at something, their instruments nearby. Harry was mid-laugh, his dimples on full display, and the sight made my chest ache in the best way.

I quickly typed back a reply:

Y/N: Mitch! Thanks for checking in. I’m doing okay—just getting back into the swing of things here. These pics made my day. He looks so happy.

Almost instantly, Mitch replied.

Mitch: He’s happy, yeah. But trust me, he hasn’t stopped talking about you. Keeps saying how much he misses you already.

I bit my lip, warmth flooding through me. I could practically hear Mitch’s teasing tone in his message.

Y/N: Now you’re just trying to make me cry. Thank you for keeping an eye on him for me.

Mitch: Anytime. You two are good together. Let me know if you need me to pass along any messages—or if you want me to remind him to eat something besides coffee and snacks.

I laughed softly, shaking my head as I typed back.

Y/N: Always looking out for him. Thanks, Mitch. I’ll text him later, but tell him I said hi, just in case.

Mitch: Will do. Take care, Y/N.

The weeks dragged on, each day feeling longer than the last without Harry nearby. But getting back into my routine with Anne brought a sense of normalcy. Being around her again reminded me of the warmth and support that had brought me here in the first place. We fell back into our usual rhythm of work and lighthearted conversation, and moments like those made the distance from Harry feel a little easier to bear.

One afternoon, I was in the kitchen, boiling a pot of tea for us to share. The aroma of Earl Grey filled the air, and I called out to Anne, who was in the study, “Tea’s ready!”

I reached for the mugs, humming softly to myself, when I suddenly felt a pair of arms wrap firmly around my waist. Startled, I froze for a moment before turning my head, half-expecting to see Anne with some kind of playful gesture.

But instead, I found myself face-to-face with Harry, his familiar green eyes sparkling with mischief. My heart skipped a beat, and a slow grin spread across my face as I remembered the very first time we met.

“Well, you’re definitely not your mum,” I said, my voice light and teasing.

Harry laughed, his grin widening as he tightened his hold around me. “Déjà vu, isn’t it?” he said, his voice warm and full of affection.

I twisted in his arms to face him fully, my hands resting on his chest as I took in the sight of him. “What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice caught between surprise and joy. “You didn’t tell me you were coming back!”

“I wanted to surprise you,” he said softly, his hands moving to my waist as he leaned closer. “Mum might have tipped me off about your tea-making schedule.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Anne’s always in on the surprises, isn’t she?”

“She’s a mastermind,” he joked, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “But I couldn’t wait any longer. I missed you too much.”

My chest tightened at his words, and I smiled up at him, my fingers brushing lightly over his sweater. “I missed you too.”

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead, and for a moment, the rest of the world fell away. The kettle whistled on the stove, breaking the quiet, and I laughed, gently pulling back.

“Guess we better not let your mum’s tea get cold,” I said, reaching for the mugs.

Harry grinned, grabbing one for himself. “Lead the way, love.”

As we walked toward the study, the warmth of his presence made everything feel right again, like the missing piece of my world had finally fallen back into place.

Harry followed me to the table, the two of us settling into the cozy nook where Anne always liked to sip her tea. As I poured the steaming liquid into the mugs, he leaned back in his chair, his arms casually resting on the table, his familiar grin tugging at his lips.

“Feels good to be back,” he said, his eyes sparkling as he looked at me. “Though I was starting to wonder if you were going to replace me with all the tea-making and poetry-writing. Very English of you, by the way.”

I laughed, shaking my head as I handed him his mug. “I think you’re safe—for now. But Anne’s poetry game is pretty strong.”

He smirked, taking a sip of his tea before setting it down. “Good thing I’ve got my charm to fall back on. Plus, if I remember correctly, you can’t resist my dimples. They’re basically my secret weapon.”

I raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress my grin. “Is that so?”

“Oh, absolutely,” he replied, leaning forward conspiratorially. “In fact, I’d say they’re at least 60 percent of the reason you agreed to date me.”

I snorted, nearly spilling my tea. “Sixty percent?”

“Fine,” he said with a mock sigh, his expression thoughtful. “Seventy, but only because I’m being modest.”

I couldn’t hold back my laughter as Anne walked in, catching the tail end of the conversation. She looked between us, smiling knowingly as she took her seat.

“What’s so funny?” she asked, pouring herself a cup of tea.

“Harry’s trying to convince me his dimples are his greatest asset,” I said, still grinning.

Anne raised an eyebrow, smirking as she took a sip of her tea. “I’d say they’re top three.”

“See?” Harry said, gesturing toward his mum as if her opinion sealed the deal. “It’s unanimous.”

I rolled my eyes, the warmth of the moment settling over me. “Well, congratulations. You’ve won me over—again.”

Harry leaned back in his chair, his grin widening. “That’s good to know. I’d hate to think I traveled all this way just to lose you to better tea or a clever poem.”

His words, light as they were, carried an unmistakable warmth, and as we sat there together, the tea steaming between us and laughter filling the air, I couldn’t imagine a more perfect ending to the day—or the story that had brought us here.

[teddybeartoji]

@twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat @staryukis @dollsuguru @venusiansilk

Sua vasten aina painautuisin jos vain oisit aina rinnallain

[runninriot]

when it's love, it lasts forever

another fill for my @steddiebingo card

prompt: mixtape | rated: T | wc: 1.733 | tags: post Vecna, established relationship, romantic fluff, reminiscing about the past | also on ao3

   “Oh my God!”

Eddie’s stunned voice filters in from the other room, causing Steve to stop what he’s doing. He sighs, feels mocked by the piles of clothes still scattered around the room, waiting to be organised into the newly put up dresser.

Steve cracks his neck and rolls his shoulders, trying to ignore the dull ache in his muscles. He is tired. Exhausted from the long drive, physically drained from loading and unloading the van, from carrying boxes and furniture – there’s so much that still needs to be done, which is why he hates to leave his task unfinished.

But curiosity wins, so he walks into the living room to find his boyfriend sitting on the floor with his back turned, surrounded by boxes he was supposed to unpack. Instead of him stacking up the bookshelf like he said he would, it seems like something else must’ve caught his attention. Not that that’s new; Eddie gets so easily distracted sometimes. Steve doesn’t mind, has long since learned to keep up with his boyfriend’s antics – he’ll get there eventually and a little distraction doesn’t hurt anyone.

   “What you got there, babe?” Steve asks when he walks closer, trying to look over Eddie’s shoulder to see what’s gotten him all excited.

   “I can’t believe you still have that.”

Eddie blinks up at him with big, round eyes that have gone all soft, revealing the small treasure he’s cradling in his hands.

It takes Steve a moment to recognise it but when he does, his heart does a little flip.

   “Oh.”

He crouches down to get to Eddie’s level, can’t help but smile when his eyes catch the familiar drawings on the paper inlay peeking through the plastic case – the two bats in the centre, one with nails and one with wings; a heart in the top left corner with their initials in its middle, and a scatter of flowers to fill the empty space. Eddie’s handwriting at the top, ‘THIS IS MUSIC!’ screaming back at them in bold letters.

   “Of course, I kept it,” Steve finally says after clearing his throat, feeling oddly sentimental now. “I kept all of them. Everything.”

It’s true. Steve has kept every little piece of memorabilia he collected over the years. From the movie theatre ticket stub of their first unofficial date to the little note Eddie had left after spending the night at Steve’s for the first time. From the faded and wrinkled flyer of the first Corroded Coffin show Steve ever went to, to the mixtape in Eddie’s hands.

Maybe he should feel embarrassed about it, but instead of making fun of him for being such a sap, Eddie just smiles, eyes so full of love that Steve’s insides turn into a mushy, gooey mess.

   “This one’s my favourite,” he confesses, stroking a thumb over the case whose scratched surface shows all the signs of passing time and overuse.

   “It was all I listened to for weeks.”

He’s not even exaggerating, knows every song on the tape by heart from listening to it on repeat. Played the cassette so many times it’s a miracle it didn’t break, unwind or outright combust.

   “God, I remember how nervous I was to give it to you. So scared you’d hate it.”

Steve remembers, too, can see it so clearly before his mind’s eye.

After spending months in physical recovery – after Death had unsuccessfully tried to snuff out his life – Eddie had finally gotten the all clear from his doctors. ‘I’m as good as new,’ he’d announced when he entered the Harrington home, a six-pack of beer in one hand, joking about being ready to get drunk on his first sip after having been forced into abstinence for so long.

Eddie and Steve had become quite close during their time of healing, when everything kind of seemed on hold while Hawkins slowly came out of the state of shock it had been trapped in for months.

For the most part, people had thankfully remained unaware of the true horrors, eating up the highly dubious cover-up stories they’d been fed by the government. But Steve and Eddie and their little band of misfits had a lot of coping to do. Kept holding on to each other, finding strength in the support of their tightly knit circle of friends to deal with all the shit they’d been through together.

Despite everything, Steve would be lying if he said that he wished none of it ever happened because without it, he never would’ve learned what true happiness feels like. Would’ve never gotten to know Eddie the way he had after the almost-end of the world.

It was then, in their time of dealing with the aftermath of their final war against hell, something had started to sprout and bud inside of Steve.

Something that grew and kept growing until it was in full bloom, impossible to ignore anymore. Until, with a bang and a crisis and a lot of emotional support from Robin, Steve finally realised that what had blossomed over time, was actually love. Love born out of trauma and friendship and trust and survival.

They hadn’t talked about it then, that day Eddie came to celebrate his newly recovered life with him. But even though his own feelings had yet to be formed into words to be spoken aloud, Steve had noticed a shift in Eddie’s demeanour over the course of their growing closeness. Had this lingering impression that maybe he wasn’t the only one having to deal with a riot of unsorted, confusing feelings.

He could sense how nervous Eddie was that day. Could feel the crackling tension between them when they were sitting side by side on the back porch, brushing fingers when passing their shared cigarette from one to the other.

    ‘Got something for you,’ Eddie had said after finishing his beer, cheeks red, eyes cast down to where his right hand kept playing with the pocket of his jean vest.

   ‘What is it?’ Steve had asked in return, sounding breathless for reasons unknown to him at the time.

That’s when Eddie retrieved a cassette from his pocket, a mixtape he said he’d made just for him, with songs that reminded Eddie of Steve and songs he wanted Steve to listen to because they meant something special to him. And all Steve could do was stare. Stare and wonder and hold his breath, scared of opening his mouth, of possibly saying something he’d regret. Not realising how long he must’ve stayed quiet. So long in fact, Eddie started to pull back the hand holding the tape.

   ‘It’s- it’s stupid. Sorry.’

After weeks of fighting himself, Steve couldn’t hold back any longer. Couldn’t fight the urge anymore, the overwhelming need to break down the last remaining barrier that had kept him from finally telling Eddie the truth.

Only he didn’t say what he wanted him to know and instead, balled his fist in Eddie’s shirt to pull him in, crashing their lips together without warning. Kissing him in a way he’d hoped would be enough for Eddie to understand what he was trying to tell him. Pouring all his feelings into every press of lips, letting love spill from his tongue.

Love Eddie reciprocated in a way that was almost too much for Steve to handle – unashamed and unfiltered, confessing his feelings like it was the easiest thing to do.

That night, after Eddie had gone home, Steve lay in bed, not asleep but with his eyes closed, listening to the mixtape Eddie had made for him. Letting the music take him back to the moment in the Upside Down, brushing shoulders with the frazzled, doe-eyed man on the run – ‘Ozzy Osbourne? Black Sabbath? He bit a bat’s head off onstage?’ – laughing at himself for how clueless he’d been about so many things.

Steve has learned a lot since then. Not only about the seemingly endless list of things Eddie’s interested in but also, more importantly, he learned so much about himself.

   “Wanna listen to it while we ignore the mess and get to the good part of finally having an apartment to ourselves?” Eddie winks at him, the mischievous glimmer in his eyes telling Steve everything he needs to know.

   “You mean jumping into our new, giant bed so you can cuddle me until I fall asleep?”

   “Something like that, yeah.”

Tomorrow, Steve will be mad at himself for letting Eddie seduce him with his dorky charm, when he wakes up to the chaos of all the boxes still unpacked. And Eddie will be mopey as hell when he realises that they haven’t even recovered the coffee maker and cups from whatever cardboard prison they’re still stuck in.

But right now, none of that matters. Not when they’re kissing and touching each other to the sound of the music that means so much to both of them, memories locked in songs, every beat of drum a matching tune to their hearts’ rhythm. Sating their hunger for flesh and that deeper kind of love. Holding each other close in the comfort of their intimate bubble of you and me while Eddie – Van Halen, not Munson –  strums his guitar and sings along to the voice of Sammy Hagar, filling the background with a song that feels like it was written for them.

    How do I know when it’s love?

    I can’t tell you but it lasts forever.

    How does it feel when it’s love?

    It’s just something you feel together.

Later, when the music has long stopped and Steve allows sleep to slowly take a hold of him, he remembers the words and silently agrees. Love isn’t something that can be categorised into how or when or why. It’s something you just know is there because you can feel it in every part of your being. It’s something you can share through touch, and show through little things, and express with words – but even without all of that, there’s no doubt that their love, just like the song rightfully claims, is made to last forever.

It’s the essence of Steve’s existence, the one thing he can always hold on to, no matter what. This love for a man whose appreciation for life – after almost losing his fight against death – makes every day extra special. A man who constantly reminds him of how beautiful life is, and continues to make it so.