#*quiet sobs of adorableness*

[ember-nby]

Today I wrote the first quote and then I saw that post about the English translation of the Memory Zone OST. It melted my heart and I had to add it into my sketchbook omg

[lousiee]

metaphorically threw up my emotions that ive been feeling 4 th past couple years

[dmitriene]

cw: possible dubcon, cheating in toxic relationship, reader is simon's dream girl.

retired simon ghost riley that dreams about having a sweet little bird to himself, adorable housewife that would make his days brighter by her tasteful cooking and little sanctuary between her supple thighs, all his to keep and devour.

that's when he meets you, sugary sweet thing that moved into his neighborhood, just a small road across his house where your own located, place slightly big for you alone to live, until he founds out you have a husband.

some disgusting likeness of a person, a man that treats you nothing like some pet, all sugary to you when someone's near, but making you carry your things all by yourself inside the house, letting himself huff at you displeased, tell you to “not annoy him„ when you suggest to say hello to the neighbors.

simon knows it's not a problem for him at this point, when someday he hears how you argue with your husband outside, for everyone near to hear, with your soft voice breaking down, hands clutched in shaking fists.

it's clear as a day that you need someone better, him, and not anyone else, not your pathetic type of a husband that makes you always wander outside alone, you need kind of a man that wouldn't make you shed your tears in vain, on the porch outside.

that's how he founds you, sitting late in the cold evening with your hands concealing your face that you can't stop wiping, your eyes and nose a watery mess, not even noticing someone approaching you.

simon's appearance makes you yelp, like a ghost appearing in front of you to snatch you away, and you jump on your legs, skittish, looking at him with hurt and distrust as you back away towards the door, until he lifts his arms in surrend and grumbles for you to “calm down, little tigress„

you do calm down, defiance slipping away under his hard and dark gaze as you mumble about what he wanted, that your husband isn't home right now if he's here for him, and it makes simon frown, all but wondering why would your husband mess with men that look like him, as you break in tears again.

little hiccups and chocked sobs slipping past your lips in broken melody, streaming down your wet cheeks and lingering on your lips where you lick them off, whimpering, and simon takes it like an opportunity.

his rough voice turning in grumbled coos, as quiet and soothing as he can muster when his hand settles on your lower back, a light touch, making his skin tingle as he tries to press you closer to him, close the distance and step away from your porch, which you do.

walking towards him on your own, where you brush against his sturdy chest gently, making him tug you in his arms for a careful hug, he knows he needs to be cautious with you, studies the way you remain a little stiff, and there's a lingering doubt in your head, because he's a stranger, an unfamiliar man, but you need this.

need these soothing cooes in your ear, a small pats on your hair as his thumb rubs circles on the small of your back, murmurs reassuringly about how “it's gonna be alright, little one„ and leads you with him, further away.

across the small road, from your house and towards his own, and you don't really resist, only hiccup brokenly about where he leads you, still attentive, smart girl that soon would be his, as he murmurs something about a cup of water.

he lurs you inside his house so easily, pressing a glass of water inside your hand and making you drink it down, cold liquid soothing your slightly raw throat, as he gazes at you openly, swallowing whole and still pressing you closer, calloused hand on your back that he can't stop rubbing.

you don't understand your own situation until he takes the empty glass from your shaking hand, as his own lifts to cup your cheek, and it's too intimate for a stranger, despite that you both live in the same neighborhood, because you barely talked once to each other, yet, it can't down the yearning inside of you.

for some care, the gentleness with which simon rubs at your cheek, looks into your still slightly damp eyes, before he lowers his face and brushes his lips carefully against yours, testing the waters.

through he's already bounded you against him, your softness brushing against his sturdy frame, and it takes nothing for him to take you apart, devour, greedy hands all over you without a fuss, every little whine and whimper devoured by simon's mouth.

devoured like your glossy pussy that he eats on the counter, perching you on the cold and harsh surface with his warm tongue ravaging the rich sweetness between your puffy folds, pink muscle wiggling inside your tight hole as he slurps and thrusts inside of you, hungry.

separating your soul from flesh and bones with his kisses, feral and ardoring touches that he softens as soon as you twitch under him, soothing you with a sharp suck on your clit that makes you mewl, shooting sparks to your eyes.

simon spares you on his cock in his own bed, on soft and dark sheets that look better with your body sprawled on them, supple flesh naked with your fat for him to grope, at your round tits, at the doughy thighs that he spreads to see the way his rudy cock nudges against your sopping and tight entrance.

he would keep you here, to himself alone, fuck you until his hips would sputter and his cock fill your pulsing hole with thick cum, intil you would pass away overstimulated and trembling, satiated, cheeks wet and warm with tears not from hurt, but from pleasure, the one simon kisses off your face while you curl on his chest and snore quietly.

you wouldn't need to come back to your husband, to the house that next day would be empty from half of the things that were belonging to him, he will disappear without a trace and leave your life as pure as if nothing had happened, letting simon keep you, make you his.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[screampied]

Sorry this is super specific but angry mean and sloppy hate sex w the jjk boys (specifically nanami) is all I've been thinking about 🥹🥹🥹

໒꒱ ₊˚ ‘ SCREAM, NO BOLOGNA ! ’﹒⺡

sukuna, toji, gojo, nanami, geto

જ warnings. fem! reader, hate séx, implied multiple órgasms, praise, dirty talk, facefucking, hair pulling, choking, overstim, squìrting, implied breeding, daddy kink, the bed kinda… breaks, mdni.

𖬺 — NANAMI KENTO.

“now now sweetheart,” he’d coo. his voice had such a sugary rasp as he spoke. you moan, feeling him casually bend you over with just one hand. you felt him softly caress the soft edges of your ass, lovingly stroking a thumb against your sheer skin before bringing his leaky tip towards your soaked folds. “was that little fit you threw earlier in the mall necessary? told you to wait until we got home.”

“don’t…care,” you huff out with furrowed eyebrows. your breath wafts against the soft material of the cushioned pillow as you pout. nanami raises a brow, making you arch just a little before your lips part. “i was bored all day. just f-fuck me, kento. s-stop bein' all nice ‘n just be rough with me.”

“my oh my, what a filthy mouth you have,” he clicks his tongue, and nanami purposely leans up close to you. you mewled once he grabs a fistful of your hair. he has a good grip before giving it a slight yank. you let off a whimper once the head of his cock skims past your entrance. not once but twice. his words were so rich, coated with pure tease before he lays his weight right up against you. “rough she says,” he whispers, and he brings his free hand to grip your waist. nanami was so precise and slow with his hand movements. you let off a gasp the minute he starts to ease his way inside. “if you wanted me to treat you like this, you didn’t have to be such a—”

he gets cut off by creating a single sloppy thrust against you and you sob out a whimper from how thick he was. a few good inches and you then started to feel yourself stretch. “…brat,” he concludes, and you even hear nanami’s voice get a tad bit lower. his tie tickles against your spine as he starts to move and your eyes didn’t hesitate to quickly rolllll into the very depths of your skull.

nanami didn’t mind being rough, especially if you asked nicely. whenever he was though, his thrusts were just godly. so good…

your maw dangles open as he’s just whacking you in all the right spots, all the right places.

he still had his work clothes on too—you couldn’t wait, you needed him now. his girth stretched you out in every way imaginable, you dumbly jerk against the bed before letting off a cute squeal. “k-kento, harder. choke me. harder pleaseee.”

nanami kisses his teeth, cocking his head to the side as he intakes a sharp concise breath.

“you’re somethin' else, you know that?” and you feel the warmth of his fingers wrap around your neck. his fingers, so thick. you hit back and forth against him—your pussy just squeaking a high pitch tune out in harmony. “rougher baby?” he huffs out, and you moan once he caresses the middle part of your neck. “you—you like bein' arched over like this for your husband?”

“y-yes,” you’d whine out, feeling his gentle touch graze against the fat of your ass. he loved caressing every inch of your body, so gentle. the tips of nanami’s thumbs gingerly press into the sides of your hips before he delivers a mean two second stroke. you gasp, wanting more, more of him being so spry and vigorous with his hips. “fuck me h-hard, ‘ken.”

nanami grows quiet, watching how your torso cutely gets propped up against him.

you were just aching . . . soaked for more of his thick inches plugging inside of your sweetened cunt. he loved the view. such a pretty wife being all arched for him, taking round after round. he wanted nothing more than to just lean right up to you and run a hand down your spine.

he adored getting under your skin, making you all shy and timid. once nanami starts to get ruthless, you’re making all types of noises, such noises reverberate across the entire room — ricochet after ricochet, just bouncing off the walls.

“jus’ like that, kento,” you’d whimper out, and the feeling of his thick cock delving all inside of your walls had you so wet—you were drooling all against the bed sheets. he hit it just right, nanami’s breath became rough and raspy. you wanted him to be a bit rough, so he was more than happy to oblige. you squeezed down against him and he groans, watching your chest slam and jolt against the beat cushiony mattress.

“g-goddamnn,” he throws his head back in pure ecstasy. you had him going feral, he was enticed with how good you made him feel. vice versa, you swallowed him whole. your cunt was just sputtering out sweet noises that made his ears practically pop. he liked seeing you like this, drooling for more cock. strands of saliva seep from the corners of your mouth solely based on how deep he reached inside of you. “sweetheart, you’re gonna—make a mess out of me.”

his voice was so low, it was sweet. how he spoke so rich and smoothly yet his thrusts against your aroused core was the entire opposite. you moaned, momentarily after a while you started to feel a sudden tension build up. a rush of waves went through you, and you whined once his tip kept smacking against your precious g-spot.

again, and again, and again, constant loop. your walls had him in a tight chokehold—quite literally, you were gripping around him like a vice before you squealed out a, “k-kento, o-oh my godddd. i feel, ‘m gonna— right there.”

he chuckles, deepening his hits against you. your cute words were suddenly broken, you couldn’t fully speak a sentence without choking up. he had you throbbing, slick running down your thighs with your jaw cutely open. he was so hefty. his base just rams right into you, it had you dizzy, toes curling and eyes just crossed. your ankle shook before you gasped at the abrupt feeling of you finally reaching your peak. “fuckkk kento,” you’d sob, and you only then realized you’d just squirt all over his cock.

“oooooh,” nanami hums, and he slows down just briefly. he ends up finishing around the same time as you, painting on your your spine with a gorgeous canvas of his own seed. it shot out in thin ropes on your back, you felt so warm and yet empty once he pulled out. nanami had such mahogany eyes full of love, running a hand down your waist once more before having a shy abrupt expression. “did . . my wife just squirt on me?”

a question, a simple question you couldn’t answer but he already knew. he smiles, soft chocolatey irises lingering towards your sopping wet pussy. he brings a hand towards it, giving it a sweet pat.

“mm. appears she did,” he answers for you, and he couldn’t be rough and mean to you for that long. he loved you too much, especially your body. nanami groans, feeling you wriggle your hips up against him, a sign that you wanted him to keep going. nanami’s lips tug up into a smile before he flips you over, slowly prying your legs open before humming. “can you do that again, my love? show me how much of a messy wife you can be.”

𖬺 — SUGURU GETO.

“woah. easyyyy now angel,” geto smirks, and he’d be laid back against the soft cushion of the driver’s seat.

he had you propped up right on his lap. it was tranquil, the two of you being surrounded by a secluded spot with a few streetlights making the scenery a bit more bright. your bottom lip quivered, hovering over his angry tip before swallowing thickly. “hm. i know you’re my ex ‘n all, but with a look like that i’d say you’re still in love with me.”

“just— shut up,” you’d grumble. he chuckles, bringing two rough hands towards the sides of your waist. he loved more than anything to touch you, to run and strum his svelte lengthy fingers all against your skin. it had you weak, he had you weak. geto and you were on and off, sure. but the pent up annoyed intimacy was always amazing. toe curling even, you try to hold back a moan the moment his cock starts to kiss against your folds, his tip gradually going inside. “fuck you.”

geto leers at you before a sly smirk compresses against his pink lips. “…girl, bye,” and his sassiness catches you off guard. with an eye roll, he moves you closer towards his chest—reaching against the left side of the seat to make it recline back. “all this talk for someone who still struggles to take me, even with prep. get serious.”

you glare, not knowing how to reply and he snickers at how quick he made you shut up. your glare turned into a cute eye-widening expression, because that’s when you start to feel his cock massage your inner walls.

“s-shit,” you’d gasp, unhurriedly feeling him sink inside. geto was always so thick, a perfect fit for you. that grip you always gave him. he loved it more than anything.

he still also loved you more than anything, but no one had to know that. “s-so fuckin’ big, suguru.”

“gotta be to stretch my favorite pussy,” he breathes, feeling you start to rock your hips—you moan at how quick he reached you so deep. geto had an upward curve, never failing to locate your most secretive and tender spots with his plump tip. he massaged your gummy walls so good it had your thighs already spasming. it was embarrassing, he had you wrapped around his finger.

you hated it, you hated him, is what you kept telling yourself. alas, you hated him enough to ride him into complete oblivion. “mhm. tug on my hair a bit, angel. always love when ya do that.”

you moue at him, forgetting how much of a slut he was. perhaps an even bigger one than you. you grab onto his silky healthy hair, giving it a nice tug before he slips off a moan. “heh. aw, does me moaning for you turn you on? felt you squeeze all against me jus’ now.”

“s-shut uppp,” you’d huff out, your voice starting to become a bit nervy. geto’s fingers trail against your waist before you start to grind against him. as his seat was reclined—he had such a pretty view of your face.

whilst you’re wrenching and jerking strenuously against him. his dick expands all inside you, his sheer girth, his cockhead that was dragging all through your folds. the more you moved, the more you coated his entire lower shaft with your glistening slick.

you made sure to use your hips in such a sensual motion, rotating them before swerving back and forth. geto grows quiet, your cute moans being the only sounds in the car — replacing the vehicle’s deafening silence with your sweet murmurs.

“still mad at me?” he suddenly whispers, your rhythmic movements driving him to the first street of plain insanity. you always knew how to ride him just right, hands of yours roamed all down his abs that poked through his white tee. “i can see right through that pretty bratty expression. you just wanted to fuck me. admit it.”

“stop—talking,” you’d grouse cutely, narrowing your eyebrows at him. you knew he was right though. geto groans, feeling you start to bounce on his lap . . the lap you were happily straddling. your eyes ran down his perfectly structured body, he wore a simple leather jacket with a white tank top underneath. a pretty figure, his abs were clenched and tightened all because of you. you moan, feeling his dick brush and swipe against your g-spot. it didn’t even take that long. geto’s taken by surprise the minute your fingers wrap around his neck, giving him a tight squeeze.

“well shit,” he gruffs out, giving the right part of your hips a squeeze. slender fingers of his go towards your ass before smacking it. you moaned, and geto hums. “got the audacity to choke me? kinky girl,” and as his pitch grew low and husky, you felt your pussy throb. it was pathetic—just a few words from geto’s mouth and it’s already enough to have you drenched. “if you’re gonna choke me, at least do it harder. i like it rough in case you don’t know, girl.”

he was such a brat, and you thought you were the problem. you didn’t even know if that was possible—you glare at him though, giving his neck a slight squeeze and he moans. “now fuckin’ ride me. and stare at me the whole time too,” and he then grabs you by the neck this time, pulling you into a deep sloppy kiss. it was a mixture of many feelings. a low groan gets caught in his mouth as he feels your hips gradually speed up. geto’s tongue runs against yours, and he can’t keep his hands off you — off your ass. “fuck me. fuck me, f-fuckkk,” and his last words were a bit slurred. you were taking him fully, grinding your hips to where he even starts to stutter.

geto’s ego gets ahead of him, so much so to where he ends up cumming early. it shot out so much that he’s taken aback. dark hooded eyes staring into your soul practically. geto’s out of breath, losing track of time as your spongey walls soaked him for all that he was worth.

“and you call me the brat,” you’d pant, leaning in to press a slovenly wet kiss against his jaw. you paused your hips, letting off a soft moan once you felt him overflow your cunt with a dump of his cum. geto’s the one glaring at you now, and then he stares at you once you kiss near his neck. “still finishing early like always.”

“hmph,” he pouts, not wanting to face reality that you’d have the one up on him. geto was so cute and pouty, beads of sweat racing down the sides of his forehead before he mumbles a pouty, “i’ll take you outside this car ‘n fuck you on the hood, don’t play with me.”

“do it.”

“my girl,” he slyly says.

𖬺 — SUKUNA RYŌMEN.

“foolish woman. the nerve is beyond me,” sukuna growls.

his nostrils flair up, witnessing as you’re happily on your knees for him. not even the slightest bit scared. albeit, you were a bit irked that he pulled out his shaft only to make you—in his own words, ‘clean up your own mess.’ he’d snicker, watching your pout turn into a cute scowl before leaning in to bring a kiss towards the top part of his dick. “oh good. ya know exactly what to do. thought i was gonna have to lecture you.”

as your knees bury themselves into the ground, you take a brief look at the cursed shaft right in front of you.

you stared in awe for a moment, so lengthy. such a pretty swollen mushroom tip, just glistening with droplets of his seed that was just inside you nearly a moment ago. “shut up,” you’d loll out your tongue, tasting the bitterness that resided against his frenulum. “mhm.”

sukuna grunts, the vibrations you purposely made to make him feel bundles of nerves stir up inside. he grips onto the crown of your head before a side of his pearly white canines show.

“watch that mouth ‘n tend to your meal,” and his voice was raspy, a tad bit shaky. you could hear it in his voice how sensitive he still was. his recent release took quite a lot out of him—that much was a no brainer. sukuna had a near curve to him, length decorated with markings all over his skin.

you ran your tongue in each particular spot, staring at him the entire time before giggling. “teasin' whore. stop wastin' time ‘n get it wetter for me. spit.”

with a glare, you part your lips, spitting right on his tip before leisurely taking him into your mouth. again. he was just so thick, sweet girth included. “cute little pout ya got goin' on. what’s the matter? don’t like being told what to—do?”

you abruptly gag, feeling his tip prod against the very back of your throat. sukuna sneers, watching how much of a messy girl you already were for him. so sloppy, strands of spit were already starting to run down your chin and decorate your chest. you kept him so warm inside your mouth, swirling that pretty tongue of yours against the plump front part of his dick. that spot, it made him nearly give your hair a mean rough yank.

“s-shit,” he’d roughly breathe out, and once sukuna starts thrusting his hips into your mouth. you hold onto his clenched thighs, making an attempt to relax your jaw. you felt a vein that ran alongside his fat cock twitch alongside your tongue. he groans once he sees your eyes flutter. “this the only way to get you to s…stop talking back to me, princess? fuck your sloppy mouth until you’re drooling all over me, huh?”

being bratty, you give him a nod and he glares. his glowering gaze quickly turned to a caught off guard look and your tongue’s so playful, skimming all against his tip—sloppily having all kinds of strands of spit run down the crevices of your lips.

“my nasty girl,” he huffs, rolling his bright eyes at how easy you made him get so close again. his thighs started to ache, and he’s still got a firm grip on the crown of your head. “nasty. nasty. nasty,” he enunciates between each vigorous thrust into your mouth. he liked hearing your noises, gulp after gulp. cute lashes fluttering and all.

your spit paid a huge role, contributing to making him all slick — so filthy.

a glistening cobweb of your own lewd saliva trickled off your lips. sukuna grabs your chin, smearing it all over your lips before his own bottom lip quivers. he had a pout. sukuna ryomen was pouting all because of you. he wanted to kiss that bratty mouth, it irked him. you were so pretty, having your tight throat be stuffed like this.

“fuckkk,” he growls, feeling his thighs start to tremble. you always knew right when he was about to finish. his breathing with get irregular and his voice would be super deep and husky. thrusts against your face began incredibly sloppy while your lip gloss smeared all over your lips, ruined. “relax that fuckin’ jaw for me. gonna paint that throat white just how ya like it.”

not even long before he says that, sukuna ends up finishing again. you don’t even realize how soaked you were between your legs, cramped up fingers playing with yourself while your mouth was being salaciously occupied. a nice load coated the tip of your tongue—he pumps a good amount into your mouth, sweet sweet ropes of cursed cum.

“don’t fuckin’ swallow yet,” and you blink twice. sukuna pulls his throbbing now flaccid dick out of your mouth before getting down to your knee-level. “give me that kiss you owe me, brat,” and with a tug on your chin with one hand, you moaned, feeling sukuna sneak a rough yet somewhat passionate kiss.

he tastes the entire mess on your lips, not even being fazed before he pulls you away with a cute scowl. “did you enjoy the meal?” and he squeezes your spit-glossed lips together. you nod with cute puffed up cheeks before swallowing and he narrows his eyebrows, stroking your chin. “tch. good. because now i gotta clean you up. touchin’ yourself without asking me. bend the fuck over and face the other way. yeah.”

𖬺 — TOJI FUSHIGURO.

“soooo much back talk for a slutty arch like this,” toji grumbles. you steadily shudder, feeling him run fingers down the soft skin of your spine—you moan sweetly, gnawing on the bottom of your lip. “you claim you 'hate' me ‘n ya still get this pussy all soaked f'me without me havin' to say anything, baby?” as you spoke, you arched your back, slowly…

oh, you hated it, no…loath was probably a far more better word.

you loathed how easy it was. no matter what, toji had always found himself back in your bed—or vice versa, you in his. safe to say, he couldn’t get enough of you.

perhaps he had a bit of attachment towards you, or maybe the main thing was that he was infatuated with your sweet sopping wet pussy. “fuck you toji,” you huff out, feeling big rough hands grab your ass. he’s playing with the fabric of the string that ran down, taking in your curves before springing his weighty length out.

just feeling his fat cockhead. leaky and all…

casually smearing against your slick entrance, you felt yourself salivating shamelessly, puff after puff, the pants that departed from your lips were never ending.

“fuck you toji,” he mocks your tone, his raspy rough tone trying to pitch to yours—simply humiliating. “dumb words for a dumb little girl,” he snickers, and you gasp once he makes you scoot your ass up towards him. while your chest welts against the bed, you let off a whine once he gently starts to make his way in.

you took toji numerous times, a plethora of times, but it was as if every time was the first. toji was so thick, regardless of if he was barely in yet or fully, you always felt all of him—effortlessly expanding throughout your spongey walls like it was equivalent to an elastic band.

he was so mean and it always turned you on. the way he was the only one to memorize all your sensitive spots. he knew every inch of your body, the specific precise angle to hit with his dick to tear out those cute shrilling orgasmic whimpers from you. “just f-fuck me then. always take fuckin’ forever.”

“i’ll take as long as i want ‘n you’ll still get wet for me, whore,” he coos, burying his massive cock right into you. you couldn’t see him, but you could probably guess he was throwing his head back right about now. he loved that feeling, the salaciously delectable grip your pussy had on him, happily taking him in like it’s missed him — it did, and maybe you even missed him too. when toji’s mean, he’s fucking mean. he fucks mean, and his dialogue is always even meaner. “now be a good girl ‘n open up for me. missed my girl.”

plump lips of yours were all pretty and glossed, parted open with a little drool coming out. it was a sight. once toji’s dick figures out a sensual rhythm, you’re right back to where you started. his pace was simply mouthwatering. striking and snapping against you with such abrasiveness, you could barely keep up. toji’s stamina, it was never something to be taken light either. his hefty base taps near your ass again and again.

that makes you wet, just imagining how full he must be. “d-daddyyy,” you’d gasp out, basically being shoved right into your own mattress. your breathing was very much competitive — having an entire race with your irregular breathy pants. “f-fuck.”

“what’d you just call me, baby?” toji gruffs, and his voice was a deep low. the baritone that resided in his words had you pulsating. he cups your ass with two hands, moving it closer towards him to get a deeper and thorough angle before he sneers at your cute whimpers.

“s-said toji,” you’d whine, dragging out your words. your sweet words were all unsteady and bumpy all due to his thrusts against you. you were bouncing back and forth, mimicking his tempo.

toji sneers. “nuh uhhh,” and then he brings a hand towards the curvature part of your neck, stubby fingers stroking against your skin. “don’t lie to me. tell me what ya said originally,” and then you feel his hips pivot. toji’s dick prods against that spot, his curve brushing past your walls and you moan out. “orrrr do i gotta make this sloppy pussy tell me instead?”

you whine, feeling him bring a sharp sting to your ass. he loved giving you a spank or two, dragging out those sweet whimper from your mouth left and right. your cunt throbbed whenever his palm made contact with your ass cheek and you finally sputter out a, “daddy. called you daddy, toji.”

“yeah. you fuckin’ did girl,” he grunts, his voice was so pitched. such rude hips of his, no manners whatsoever . . snapping right into you, it was so good.

his full balls, hefty and all pressed up against your entrance, you’re in a trance. profusely drooling for him to fill you up, everywhere. leave your sweet hole dripping with nothing but his sticky cum. toji titters, seeing how you were trying to keep up with his pace. you failed miserably though.

despite that though, toji doesn’t realize how good he’s fucking you because not even moments later, he hears the wood of the headboard split. your ears twitch upon instinct, and you sort of sink further into the mattress. his bummy weight smacked right into you from behind.

“whoopsie daisy,” he shrugs, pausing for a moment. toji realizes the bed—well, your bed was now broken. with a sly grin, he makes you lean forward before pulling out to smear his leaky tip over your entrance. you whined, feeling yourself so close before he just departs. “fun time’s fuckin’ over,” and then he spanks your ass for probably the countless time, getting off of you. “mhm. my bad, doll. i’ll throw ya some cash for a new box spring the next time i see ya.”

no he won’t.

𖬺 — SATORU GOJO.

he’d come home pissed off, probably from losing a battle and he’s so annoyed. gojo isn’t used to losing, and he’d rather not talk to you about it in full detail. at least not yet.

“hey baby. was work okay?”

“princess, i need you.”

his voice was richly raspy, gojo sounded kind of needy. you stared at him, and his hair was all ruffled and tangled—a bit of his clothes had a few battling rips and spreads.

he needed you badly. his eyes roaming across your pretty physique only made things far more intense. that sundress you wore, it showed off your curves and he just only then imagined it being torn off of you. “i-i’m so annoyed, but i’ve been thinkin' about you all day…. ‘m kinda hard too.”

“come here then, baby.”

those simple four words that came from your mouth—all it took for him to go straight feral.

within seconds, he didn’t waste no time to press his hot lips onto yours.

gojo was aching, just the way your hands roamed all on his clothes made him shiver. you were the one who started to shiver next, the moment he’s got you laid flat on your back in a simple mating press.

“f—fuck,” he’d groan, and you can’t help but be so noisy. the way he’s jackhammering his thickset cock in and out of you. squelch after squelch, your legs just mindlessly sway and droop over him before you whimper. that’s when you feel gojo dip his hips even further into you. his rhythm, it had your head spinning, mind racing. it was indescribable, your pussy coated his entire length with nothing but your satiny glossy slick. “look at me,” he grumps out. you nearly throb, seeing him get all close up to your face. he’s heavily panting, heaving whilst pretty cerulean eyes stare right back at you. intently.

he was balls deep, his thrusts became extremely vulgar. soft white clouds of breath run past his lips before he grabs underneath your chin.

“damn. ‘s all her fuckin' fault,” he grouses cutely. a near pout then spreads onto his lips. you furrow an eyebrow—confused by what he meant as 'her' before with a free hand, he grabs onto your ankle. his eyes avert towards your sloppy pussy before grunting. “been thinkin’ about this pussy all day. think that’s why i lost, princess,” and his breathing was so hitched, driving such merciless thrusts into you. “got me s-so damn distracted. all ‘cause of a pussy this wet.”

“i’m the reason you lost?” you moan with a sly smile pressing against your lips. gojo’s still maintaining a grip on your chin, he then intakes a sharp breath—only then deepening his jagged thrusts against your entrance. “tell me more baby.”

he’s so careless, such vigorous thwacks going back and forth against you. it gives you whiplash. eyes nearly crosses and tasting your own sweetened saliva salivate inside of your mouth, you return his eye contact. he fucks you like he hates you—when in reality, he loves you more than an anything.

“mhm. right when i was about to get the job done, started thinkin about….about…fillin' you up,” and he swallows thickly at the thought, envisioning the entire thing in his mind. you whimper once he grabs ahold of your ankle, you’re jerking against the sofa with the stupidest expression. “stuffin' you full ‘n then plugging it back in when it spills. was so pissed when i realized i was daydreaming.”

just saying it aloud makes him palpitate. it was an ongoing race with his heart, beating quickly as he gave you such rugged hits against your entrance. your legs, oh how he loved the way they’d just jangle right beside his face. gojo found himself creating soft bike marks near your ankle, groaning out a, “you make it s-so hard to be mad at you,”and gojo’s voice cutely cracksz he can’t help but lean right into you the moment he feels in self grow full to the upmost extreme. he had so much to give you, his kisses—now they were sloppy.

as he’s plummeting solid lengthy inches in and out of your cunt that forevermore gripped him, gojo leans in to kiss you. he whines the moment you kiss back, feeling your legs lock around his slim waist, the heel of your foot skims against all of his forbidden battle scars. he was so sensitive there, he tasted sweet. enchanting.

“mine,” he groans, slowing his hips down briefly before reaching a hand down towards your tummy. his hips stutter before that’s right when he came, licking the side of your mouth before panting once he poured deep ropes of cum inside of you. “s—so pretty like this,” and his hand roams near your belly, so soft and tender. he pulls out just to stare at the pretty ring you had that coats around the base of his dick. a rich sheeny color, he licks his lips before pressing another wet kiss against your mouth. “you’d look so much prettier with a round belly. wanna give you a baby or two,” and then he moans once he feels your legs lock around his waist even tighten. “if—if you’d let me, pretty girl.”

[taeslarityy]

outage ༄ joel miller one shot (18+)

-> pairing: no-outbreak joel miller au x female curvy reader

-> word count: 4.3k

-> summary: after a citywide power outage, you're left to deal with the scorching texas heat. until, the well-respected neighborhood dilf — joel miller — lends you a more than generous hand.

-> warnings/tags: sarah is 10/11 so joel had her a bit older, power outage, texas heat, yes this is a warning because its not a joke, reader has a cat!!!, age gap (reader is 24, joel is late 40s), curvy/mid/plus size reader, brief fatphobia, reader has self-image/parent issues + is a lonely gal, fluff, SMUT (18+), unprotected piv, creampie, oral + fingering (f!recieving), squirting, body worship, brief ass play, daddy kink, big ole tits, spanking, spit kink, praise kink, a bit of belly bulge, cockwarming, pet names galore (darlin, sweetheart, baby, _ girl), joel has a huge dick (not canon!)

-> a/n: hi hi! i have been so anxious to begin writing again and currently have some wips that i am just not confident with. so when i saw the lovely @hellishjoel post her #hotdilfsummerchallenge, i was positive i wanted to join in! such a pleasure to be involved in this — thank you kylee for creating such a fun way for this community to get involved! as a curvier woman, i wanted reader to reflect that. because... joel miller is a handsy mf and loves to just grab himself some wide hips, thick thighs and phat tits <3 but ofc, this is can be for various body types. please please please, leave your thoughts and even constructive criticism! <3 DILF NEIGHBOR JOEL, YOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS!!!!

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. 

You release a groan of annoyance as the visual of your TV, coffee table lamp and humming of the refrigerator all flicker off into silence. The frills on your throw-blanket settle, as the ceiling fan no longer produces the small gusts of wind that have caused you to be rather chilly on this hot, humid and rainy summer night. 

When you made the courageous decision of moving across the country for a new teaching opportunity in Austin — you were never informed on the true brutality summertime unleashed onto Texas residents. More-so, you really had nothing to do but be caged up in the comfortable AC of your home. You’ve been here for roughly 14 months and the only "friends" you’ve made have been the 28 fourth graders you had the pleasure of teaching last school year. Tragic. 

Your coworkers, did not handle your arrival pleasantly. Young, beautiful, freshly-educated and determined. That’s what your grandmother referred to you as when you called her sobbing after your first week. Informing her that the seasoned teachers won’t even bat an eye at you, and when they do it’s a look of disgust. Whispering amongst one another. Like you were in middle school again, trying to befriend the popular girls. 

“I was foolish to think things could be different for me down here, so stupid of me.”

“Now listen to me, you are the most intelligent woman I know. More than anyone in this family. Bullies like that, it stems from an unknown jealousy and overbearing insecurity. Don’t let a few sour grapes ruin this outstanding career for you. Your students adore you already, and so do I. Just continue to be yourself and if that isn’t enough for them, so be it.”

Your grandmother always knew how to make you feel better. She had been instilling your own sense of confidence since you were a little girl. The only adult in your life to do so. If only her words were enough. Your coworkers just never let up. After overhearing them gossip about you during lunch break, you gave up your attempts indefinitely. 

“She really thinks she deserves a place here?”

“Look at her back rolls in that shirt…”

“She really needs to put that sandwich down.”

“Why is she so quiet? It’s freaky, honestly. No wonder she’s always alone.”

You’re not a stranger to being alone. You practically have been your entire life. Your parents never really bothered to form a genuine relationship with you, always so focused on your younger sister. She was the prettier, thinner, more impressive version of you. You have only had one best friend throughout your long 24 years on this earth. She was smarter than you and moved away from the timid small town you shared in Northern Maine, choosing an out-of-state university. So, being alone was a familiarity. You have made peace with it. But being lonely — that’s a whole other ball-park. 

The booming thwack of thunder startles you from your thoughts. Your sweet calico boy leaps from your warm lap and scurries under the dining table — tail puffed in fear. “Milo... it’s okay,” you whisper. He just gleams at you with his jet-black saucer eyes. Even you don’t believe your own words. You are not used to storms like this, and you didn’t really prepare. You read some articles online about stocking up: having plently of batteries, candles, non-perishable foods. Yet, you didn’t do any of that. 

Rubbing away the moisture from your damp upper lip — the heat inside your home already becoming unbearable. Deciding on a whim, you can head to a nearby hotel for the night. Unsure how long you will be without power and don’t wish to succumb yourself or your cat to the searing temperatures of the night. 

The rain has slowed down, as you feel the soft patter on your umbrella. Throwing your purse and water bottle in the front seat, you begin to dread unpacking all this stuff when you get to the hotel. Bags, cat litter, cage — scrutinizing yourself mentally and deciding you better fucking prepare for the next storm. 

“Where ya headin’ sweetheart?”

Your heart jumps at the deep smooth Southern voice that fills your thoughts at night. When your hands would find their way in between your quivering legs. Throughout the day. Pretty much all the time.

Joel Miller is the only person in this town that has ever filled the lonely void you can never seem to fill. When you moved to the quiet suburban street, he was the first to come greet you as you struggled to pull your mattress out of the U-Haul. Immediately lending a hand, and proceeding to lug all of your remaining boxes, furniture, miscellaneous items into your new home. 

“Pretty lady like you, shouldn’t have to lift a single finger.” He remarked when you you blushed and assured him you could handle the rest, not wanting to be a burden. Even though the sweat dripping down your back was apparent and 5 minutes prior you had no idea how you’d be able to unpack the remainder of the truck. He then assured you — there was no way in hell you were being a burden. Words that were a rarity. 

Later that afternoon, he invited you for dinner at his home. You met his lovely daughter, Sarah. Where everyone learned that you were her new school teacher. What were the odds? 

Following that, seeing Joel was frequent. From parent-teacher conferences, backyard barbecues for the neighborhood, or even small intimate dinners with Sarah at each others homes. Sarah would even spend the night at yours on occasion. When Joel had a late night at the construction site, or when she just needed some girl time. You adored that little girl, and vice versa. 

You also adored the fuck out of Joel. 

So when you looked up at his porch, finding him in nothing but a pair of plaid pajama pants.. your throat went dry. His tanned skin gleamed softly from the street light — little speckled freckles adorned his waist in various spots. And that darkish grey hair on his chest and fat of his lower tummy that flowed underneath his pants. Your brain fuzzy at the thought of your face pressed against it as you swallow his cock. 

But you were not a fool. Joel would never express an attraction towards you. A man like that? He deserved the perfect woman. 

“Darlin’?” He speaks again, a bit louder. Disturbing your wandering thoughts. 

“I- I was gonna head to a hotel for the night, my house is too hot already. And I don’t want Milo to be uncomfortable.” 

Joel’s eyes wander down your body as you explain — the plush jiggle of your tits in that small tank. Nearly spilling out. Slightly damp from the rain or humidity. The chub of your tummy spills slightly from your leggings. A sight that makes his cock swell unbearingly. An act that occurs more often than not when he sees you or even thinks of you for the countless minutes of his day. 

“No way. Not gonna let ya drive in this weather. Plus, most hotels nearby are gonna be overbooked. I got the generator up n’ working, got the spare room too. Your stayin’ over.” 

“No! No, Joel. I can’t.”

“N’ why not?” His hands have found his way to his hips, popping a knee out and giving you that classic dad glare. Not angry, but confused as to why you’re even protesting when he’s already decided. 

“I don’t want to intrude and I have Milo. You and Sarah are allergic.”

“Sarah left yesterday to stay with her mom in California for the rest of the summer. Besides, Milo loves me. I can handle a runny nose as long as I know the two of ya are safe.” 

To this, your stomach nearly flips inward on itself. You’ve never been alone with Joel in his home. Not for this long. The few times you’ve come over to help him with dinner before Sarah got home from soccer practice, have always been excruciating. Staring at him without worry. Watching his muscles flex through his t-shirts. Big hands chopping vegetables and plating food. His hand lightly touching your waist when scooting by. 

There’s no possible way you can survive a night in Joel’s home. 

But, he’s already grabbing his umbrella and walking over to you. He grabs your stuff from the car and tells you to go grab Milo. So, you do.

Joel slips on a t-shirt after he put your stuff in the spare room, disappointedly enough. You nearly told him to keep it off, but held your tongue. You made yourself comfortable at the island barstool as you typed up some early lesson plans, Milo at your feet. 

He patters over to Joel who is now leaning against the counter, brushing against his leg. He then leaps onto the granite and purrs against Joel’s arm. 

“Psst! Milo get do-“ you beg, embarrassment coloring your cheeks. 

“S’ okay, sweetheart. He’s not botherin’ me,” Joel attempts to settle your nerves. Petting Milo’s soft fur and scratching under his chin, that special spot all cats love. “Can I get you anythin’ to drink?” He nods towards the coffee he’s brewing. 

“Coffee would be nice, thank you.” You beam at him. Joel’s heart skips a beat every time your cheeks puff up ever so slightly when you smile at him. It’s something he swears is the most endearing thing about you. Of course, he’s only ever shared that with his daughter. Who begs her father to just take her favorite teacher on a date already. 

Joel grabs some sugar and oat milk from the fridge, your favorite. He learned from the few breakfasts you guys had shared. A bit of sugar and a nice gulp of milk softens the dark roast color in the mug, he slides it over to you as he grabs his plain black coffee. 

“You remembered!” You giggle slightly at the Number 1 Dad title that adorns the mug, taking a sip. You moan at the taste, exactly how you like it. 

“Of course I did, darlin’.” You almost hate how easily those pet names roll of his tongue. You summed it up as his southern hospitality, figured he calls any woman those special names. “So, you ready for this new school year?”

An icky feeling settles in your stomach. The thought of returning to the painful and toxic work environment you can only escape when you’re with your students.

“Not without my Sarah girl,” you swiftly change the subject towards the one person he can talk hours about.

He smiles proudly at her name. 

“Ya know, she still all mad that you wouldn’t flunk her so she could have another year with ya.” Both your laughs quickly fill the empty house. 

“Well, even if I tried to, that girl is too smart for her own good. She should skip a grade in my opinion.” You state, and you’re truthful at that. Sarah Miller is as intelligent as she is quick-witted. 

“Yeah, she gets it from me.” At that you roll your eyes playfully. Typing something up before closing your computer and taking another sip of coffee. “Although I love boastin’ over her, I guess I meant are you excited to go back? They treat ya good there?” 

Joel watches the color drain from your soft skin. Realizing he touched somewhere that might be too personal. Too raw. “M’ sorry sweetheart, shouldn’t have asked.”

“No- no uh, you’re fine. Um, honestly? No. I’m not excited. The staff there aren’t exactly the kindest bunch.” You confess, slight unease crawling over you. 

Joel’s eyes scrunch in confusion. Mind blank on how the kindest soul he knows, could be surrounded by complete opposite. “Whatcha mean?”

You sigh letting the anxiousness settle a bit before speaking again, “they hate me. I don’t even know why, really? I have tried my hardest to get them to accept me but nothing seems to work. Whether it’s jabs at my appearance, teaching style, they’re never satisfied.” Your eyes are burning slightly, haven’t confessed this burden you constantly carry to anyone. “If it wasn’t for your daughter and my class, and… you.. well, I think I wouldn’t have made it through. I try to be strong, I try to be everything that people expect from me but it’s just so hard, Joel.” At that, the fat tears begin to stream down your face.

Joel was frozen in shock. Or maybe anger. Protectiveness. He wanted to hurt the people who made you feel like this. The least deserving of any pain. He sets his mug down and snatches you in his embrace. Holding your head with his hand, stroking your back with the other. He lets you sob almost uncontrollably into his firm chest. 

“I just hate being so alone.” You whisper, clutching onto him. You can’t even be embarrassed anymore, you’re so overthrown by his scent, his comfort. Comfort you’ve not felt in so so long. 

Joel kisses your temple softly, "promise you're not alone, sweet girl." He nudges your head to look up at his own sorrowful expression. His thumb running over your full lips, a bit swollen from your teeth biting down on them in an attempt to muffle your sobs. "So beautiful." He murmurs as he leans down to place a kiss on your left cheek, his lips skim over yours before he places another on your right.

Joel just barely hears the whimper from the back of your throat when that feather light skim happened. He leans back half an inch, staring into your glossy eyes. "Tell me not to, and I'll let you go upstairs and get some rest. Tell me, sweetheart."

It feels like a whole minute passes by. The soft patter of the rain, the smell of coffee beans from each others breath, the same slow breathing that overwhelms the little space between you both.

Desperation.

Your fingers tighten on his shirt, "don't let me go upstairs, Joel."

Joel smashes his mouth into yours, his guttural groan flying into your soft whimpers. The softness Joel expressed a moment ago is long gone. This kiss is messy, teeth-clanking, tongue inside your mouth. Like he wants to devour you from the outside in. He releases your lip with a pop.

He threads his thick fingers through the base of your hair and yanks it back gently, tongue on your neck. Biting the skin there. "You're so soft, baby. Just need me to mark ya up, is that right?"

You nod as hard as you can despite his harsh grip on your locks.

"I need you to use your words, sweet girl. Let me know what you're thinkin'."

"Everything you do is okay. I want more. I need it all. Please."

"Oh baby, cm'ere," he wraps your lavish thighs around his waist and hoists you into his arms. Easily. Like you're just the most delicate thing he's ever held.

As he walks to his bedroom, you smile into his neck. Arms wrapped over his shoulders, hand rubbing ever so softly at his greying curls. You bite at the skin under his ear and he gives your ass a huge squeeze. Groaning at how his big hands barely hold all the meat there. He couldn't wait to touch and gnaw at this body he loved.

At the foot of his bed, he taps your leg as if telling you to get down. You stand in front of his massive overbearing figure, staring up at him lustfully. You grab the bottom of your compression tank top and pull it over your head, revealing your unsupported chest. Your heavy tits fall a bit.

"My god," Joel falls to his knees in front of you, face nearly level with your pebbled nipples. Both his hands grab a fistful of each, rolling them in his palm. Your sweet noises fill the room and he swears he might've just came in his pajama pants right there. He takes his teeth and bite at the fat above your leggings, licking and sucking at a sensitive part of you. Literally and figuratively.

Joel abandons your chest to yank your leggings and panties down in one move, coming face-to-face with your prickly oozing pussy. He can't restrain himself much longer, spinning you around he pushes you down into his mattress.

He spreads your ass open with both hands, the chub of your lips open ever so slightly as the slick between them strings together.

"Perfect cunt." That's when you feel the chill of liquid spat right onto your puckered hole, dripping down to your clit. He leans in, tongue catching the tangy mixture of your slick and his saliva, right on your throbbing clit.

You screech into the sheets, so turned on from his actions. As he licks up to dip his tongue into your hole, one hand that's holding you open sneaks up your back, to your neck and yanks your head up.

"Nu-uh, let me hear you, baby girl." He demands as he pauses to throw his shirt off as fast as possible — not wanting to leave your cunt for too long without the warmth of his mouth.

He sloppily makes out with your cunt as it clenches and unclenches under his tongue, his beard prickling at your skin. Like he wants your scent all over him for as long as possible.

"Ohh daddy, more more," you whisper hazily, hand reaching back to grab his head desperate to have him as deep as possible.

Joel stops as he processes your choice of title. "What was that, darlin'?"

You freeze at his serious tone. Just now realizing what you've called the man. "Oh my god, I'm s-" Joel grabs your wrist and pins it against your lower back — thick middle and ring finger hooking into you with no warning. Your wetness aiding in the rapid slide of them.

He spits on your puckered hole again and abandons your wrist to land a harsh smack against your ass.

"Only dirty girls say that word, baby. Are you daddy's dirty girl?" He edges you on as he spanks you again on the opposite side. Hard. Unsparing. A side of Joel you've never seen. And oh, does it make you feel that coil tightening within you.

"Mmmm yes yes 'm your dirty girl, daddy!" You groan loudly, eyes swelling with fresh tears. But not tears of pain from earlier, pleasure.

Joel's fingers fuck into you harder, thumb now rubbing at your clit as he leans forward to prod his tongue at your asshole. "Cum for me, my nasty sweet girl. Drench my face. Let me taste you even more." He halts his fingers knuckle deep, hooked inside your cunt as he presses into that spot on repeat. Like he's stroking it out of you.

That's all it takes for you to silently scream as you squirt all over his lower beard covered face and your thick inner thighs, that nearly squish his head from how hard you're coming. Joel just keeps himself situated, never letting up. Allowing you to completely let go and rut back into him, telling him you need more.

"Thaaat's it, my good fuckin' girl.” He praises as he kisses your cunt and ass, he leans over your face capturing your lips in a kiss so messy and depraved. “Open that mouth.” Spitting roughly onto your tongue with a groan as you taste your sweetness that he knows he will forever be addicted to. No chance of recovery.

He ruts his thick bulge into your ass as you whine needly.

"Really want you to fuck my face, now." You beg, hand reaching down to grope him through his loose pjs.

"Mmmmm," he murmurs as his hips keep rutting into you. "Tonight is about you, baby. M' gonna stuff your tight cunt so fuckin' deep you'll feel it in your throat, don't worry." And with that promise, he releases himself, throbbing cock slapping against his lower tummy. You flip onto your back just to see it and your eyes widen at the sight before you.

You always knew it was huge just from perception, but god. It's thicker than your wrist, and looks like it would prod into your cervix. Painful even. Joel senses the worry on your face as he pushes your legs back against your chest. Admiring the way your stomach folds into itself, soft roll after roll. And the thickness of your inner thighs lays heavy. He just wants to get down and feast on you again but he might die if he doesn't feel you wrapped around him.

"You're in charge here, sweetheart. Understood?" He explains as he rubs his fat cock head up and down your swollen slit — notching on your opening with every downward stroke.

You nod slowly, peeking down at the monster between your legs once more. He squeezes your ankle, subtly reminding you to vocalize.

"Yes daddy, I understand."

"Good." And with that, he pushes into your fluttering hole. Your eyes roll back immediately, head thumping onto the soft duvet. He pushes in deeper, barely halfway in and he sees your feet and eyes scrunch a bit. It almost feels like he could rip you apart. Maybe it's because you haven't been fucked in a hot minute — or maybe it's just that Joel is so fucking hung. More than any guy you've slept with.

“Deep breath for me, sweetheart.” He soothes you, as soon as he sees your chest fall — he slams the rest of the way in. Hips flush with the back of your thighs. Cock fully sheathed in your warm soaked cunt. Heavy brimming balls pressed against your little puckered hole. “You feel so damn good. Dripping for me.” Joel’s eyes close at the feeling of you hugging him so tight. He suddenly forgets the feeling of any other woman he’s pleased. Utterly devoted to you from here on out.

When he pulls out all the way to his fat tip — it notches on your opening. Like he has to put in that extra effort to fully remove himself from you. But he doesn’t, and starts fucking into you fully. Never half way, never pulling completely out.. but always making sure he reaches the end of you.

“Da- daddy oh, harder please.” You plead, squeezing his forearm at the overwhelming feel of him nudging your cervix with every thrust.

That confirmation of pleasure is all Joel needs to push your legs back even more — ankles by your head — and began a brutal relentless pace. Grabbing a fistful of your jiggling tit and messy hair, he pulls your head up so you can watch how he ruins you for anyone else.

“Ya see that, see how swollen your gettin’ already?” Joel questions as he holds your head perfectly to observe the slight lifted pudge on your tummy. Paired with the way his coarse hair rubs against your swelled clit — it’s a drool worthy sight.

“Cus’ your so big, Joel.” You sigh, eyes fluttering from the primal force he’s using on your body.

A smug grin flicks across his face at the view. Mind consumed by the most perfect woman. Eyebrows turning inward, the little lines between them deepening as you try to comprehend all the emotions in this moment. Removing his hand from your head, he finds your clit and swipes it upward. Over and over. Leaning down, he sucks as much of your breast into his mouth as humanely possible. Tongue flicking the pebbled area, coercing your orgasm from you. “Cum with me, baby.” His muffled command shoots straight to your filled core.

As he feels you spasm around his thickness, he stills balls deep. “There it is, baby…” Spilling his cum inside your warmth. Plugging you, keeping you full of him. Joel relaxes his body against yours, finding your mouth to kiss you gently. Sweaty foreheads against one another. Joel goes to push off of you, his comforting body heat about to be ripped away.

"No! Wanna feel you longer, please."

Your protest makes Joel's heart surge. "Of course, sweet girl." Wrapping his large arms around you, he flips you both so that your soft plush body lays above him. The new angle makes his spent cock nudge a bit deeper, you both moan at the faint squelch of his cum overflowing your cunt. "You're so perfect," he mutters.

Smiling into his full chest, you leave a swift kiss. "So are you. Thank you for this. For.. everything."

Joel's hands finds your back as he begins gentle strokes onto your supple skin, his head resting atop your own. "Thank you, darlin'. I want you to understand something, you might just be the finest thing that ever happened to Sarah and I. Y'know, she didn't really want to see her mom. Never had the best relationship with her. She just wanted to spend the remainder of the summer havin' ya over everyday to swim and all. That girl admires you more than anyone."

Eyes foggy, you shift to gaze up at him. "And what does her father think?"

Joel pauses briefly, rich brown orbs beaming into yours. "Think she's damn right. She didn't want me to tell you this, but she left so I could have some alone time with you — take ya out. Scolded me sayin' by the time she's back, we better be together." He laughs at the thought, you join him. Picturing that 4'9 ball of fire lecturing her father on the rules of dating.

"So, you're asking me out Miller?" You question with a heavy hopeful heart.

"Should've done it forever ago, darlin'." He confesses, placing a delicate kiss on your temple.

And with that, you place your head back onto the warm chest of the man you've craved your entire life. Realizing, ever since that day where he first greeted you with that sultry gentleman voice — you were never truly alone.

thank you truly for reading! let me know your thoughts below or in asks!! reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

[bi-writes]

how would simon react if his mail order bride got really really sick?

mail-order bride

the phone is ringing.

he's on leave, so normally he would never even touch the thing. but there are only two ringtones he has to answer to, and this one isn't price.

he picks it up, putting it to his ear. he wipes the sweat off his brow, letting out a sigh as he steps back under the shade. the sun is out today, of course choosing to beat down on him the one day he finally decided to build you better planters for your little garden.

you've taken to it quite nicely. you love being out here, tending to the little roots and the tiny leaves that have started to sprout. he thinks you look so cute when you're out here, on your knees. you always tie a scarf around your hair and wear these sage green gloves, and he thinks you look so fucking adorable when you come back inside with dirt along your brow and a sweet little smile on your face. you always give him an update. the carrots are so stubborn, you huff, and he tries to hide his grin as you bring out your little gardening journal and scribble in it all frustrated. look, simon! the tomatoes! look! look!--and he practically keens when you grab his hand to bring him outside so he can see.

but it's gotten too small. you've outgrown the little boxes of dirt, and simon knows you're itching to do more. the planter is only half done, so he's a little peeved to be interrupted while he's just starting to get it together.

"wot is it, luv, i'm--"

"s-simon?" your voice is a soft whimper, and you're sniffling on the other line. simon stands up straighter, dropping his tools immediately as he wipes his hands on his jeans and starts to go inside.

"oi. wot happened?"

"s-simon, i-i don't feel so good, c-could you come get me?"

simon lets out a low breath, shaking his head.

"fuckin' hell, luv," he mutters, grabbing his keys and wallet by the door. "still at the library?" you had asked him to drop you off in town, wanting to visit a few of the shops along the main road. your eyes had bugged when you saw the quaint little library and pastry shop, and he agreed to come back later after your little excursion.

"y-yeah, i-i..." you cough a little. "i-i got...i got sick. in the bathroom, i-i--"

"'s olright," he quiets you. "'m comin'. gimme a few minutes."

simon finds you in the family restroom of the little library, seated on the floor and hugging the toilet. he curses under his breath when he finds you, tears blurring your vision as you cry. you didn't sound so bad on the phone, but maybe you were just holding it together until you got yourself some help.

"ohhhh, swee'eart," he sighs, pushing the hood of his jacket off as he kneels down to your level. he wipes the sweat off your forehead with a gloved hand, cupping you under your jaw. "you olright?"

"no," you sob, gasping a little between tears. "i feel terrible, s-simon, i--"

"olright," he coos. "'m 'ere now. let's get ya 'ome. get ya into bed, tha' sound good?"

you nod. you look sickly, eyes dull, a cold sweat breaking out all over you. he suspects it might be the flu, considering the body aches you seem to have and the headache you tell him about as he helps you into the car. he gives you some water, stroking your face gently, and when you tell him how cold you are, he shucks his jacket off and drapes it over you before taking you back home.

you're in and out of consciousness over the next few hours. simon had helped you into your pajamas before tucking you into bed. he watched you with a glare to make sure you took the medicine he gave you, and he made you drink at least four glasses of water before he let you drift off to sleep.

when you wake up later in the evening, the cat is purring on her little bed hanging on the windowsill. simon had installed it a few weeks ago, a little perch bed so she could look outside and watch the little bunnies that came by in the morning. it's dark out now, and when you look around, simon has turned your little diffuser on, and it smells like lemons.

"s-simon?" you croak. your throat hurts. you hear a shuffle in the kitchen, and then simon is coming into the room. he doesn't turn the main light on, merely coming close and flicking the low lamp on beside you.

"'ow are ya feelin'?" he asks softly. your eyes are watery again, and he sighs, putting the back of his hand to your forehead and grimacing. "not as warm, at least. what do ya need, hmm?"

"my throat," you whisper. "i-it hurts--"

"i'll bring ya a cuppa, baby," simon murmurs. you sniffle, leaning into his hand. "do ya want somethin' ta eat? anythin'? got some bread...some soup if y'r up for it."

your lip wobbles, and he shakes his head, kissing your forehead gently.

"i'll bring ya some bread. if ya can keep it down, we'll try the soup, yeah?"

you just nod and shrug, and he picks up the box of tissues on the dresser and takes one out. he comes back to you, holding your cheek gently with one hand and wiping your tears with the other. he dabs at the sweat gently before he lets you relax again.

"i'll be right back."

you close your eyes when he leaves. you vaguely hear him in the kitchen, the sound of cookware and the whine of the kettle on the stove. simon comes back into the bedroom a little while later, holding a small plate and a steaming mug of tea. he sets down the tea, telling you it's something lemon with honey, and he shows you the thin slice of bread he's toasted with a little butter.

he sits with you while you eat small bites, and he helps you drink the warm tea that immediately soothes your insides. you start to cry again, but not from feeling so terrible.

"wot's wrong?" simon huffs, and you just look up at him, clinging to his shirt, pulling him onto the bed.

"t-thank you," you whisper, and simon just shakes his head.

"wot for?"

"f-for taking care of me. f-for c-coming to get me...for..."

simon meets your eyes, holding them, and he narrows his eyes.

"don't thank me," he says firmly. "wot fuckin' kind o' man would i be if i didn't take care of my wife, eh? sorry fuckin' wanker, is wot i'd be."

"b-but--"

"and when y'r better," he interrupts you, standing as he takes your plate, "got everythin' set up for ya outside. can move the lettuce, like ya wanted."

you sink into the cushions, happy tears in your eyes, and simon leaves, busying himself with the dishes as he tries to fight off the warm, aching feeling in his chest.

fuck, it feels so good to take care of you. to see you smile. to see your wobbly lip and those tear-filled eyes and know that he can make it all better--it feels so fucking good.

when he comes to bed later that night, you're still asleep, but you move towards him, seeking his warmth. it's instinctual now, easy.

there's a place at his side that's made only for you. it's shaped just how you are, it cannot be mistaken to be for anyone else.

when he whispers that he loves you into the dark, you don't hear him. but you scoot just that much closer.

[forlix]

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・1.2k / 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・chan x gn!reader / 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲𝘀・fluff, hurt/comfort, established relationship, berry being the perfect girl she is. inspired by these bubble messages and @cosmic-railwayxo's treachery. (love u deni)

𝟬𝟲:𝟯𝟲 — “Where’s my baby, hm?”

This is the question on Chan’s lips the moment he lets go of the bedroom door, closed with agonizing caution as to not wake the figure still curled up under the duvet inside.

It’s early. Early enough so the walls are colored a rich beige by new rays of sunlight, so his footsteps are the only sound reverberating around the hallways when he commences his search. Early enough to evidence how he was only bestowed a few hours of sleep before waking up with a budding headache and leaden eyelids.

But he doesn’t mind the lack of rest, not this time. Not when there’s a wad of love with a freckled snout and floppy ears under the same roof for the first time in too long.

“Berry?” Chan calls, his voice tattered and low, like sandpaper. He rakes his eyes over the spots he remembers to be her favorite. Maybe they’ve changed since he was last home. Maybe everything has changed since he was last home.

The thought causes a familiar pang to go off within him, poignant and powerful, but the quiet scuffle of paws against hardwood takes the edge off the guilt straightaway.

Chan finds the beginnings of a smile on his lips before she even rounds the corner, and when she does, well. His grin might as well split his face down the middle. He’s on his knees in seconds, outstretched hands rediscovering home in the puppy’s silky fur as she clambers onto him with blown pupils and excited pants.

His adoring coos of her name falter into muted laughter, which then fragments into a sob. His vision narrows to his precious girl and then starts to blur. When Berry climbs up to give his cheek a few happy licks, she’s fascinated by its saltiness.

You emerge from the bedroom a little over an hour later. Sleeping is hard enough when you’re jetlagged, and even harder when there’s only mattress where you remember Chan’s warm solidity to be. The fabric of Chan’s hoodie suppresses your vocalization of his name as you ungracefully pull it over your torso, still struggling to rouse your body from sleep.

Your beckon produces no response. You wrap a hand around the nearest door frame and peek your head into the living room, a little more alert now.

“Chan? Baby?”

You feel silly. How many visits has it been for you to still feel this nervous, wandering around Chan’s family home? Yet you undoubtedly are, whether because of your absentee boyfriend or that his whole family is a few walls away. You pad through the silent abode with mounting trepidation and intense care to not make any more sound than necessary.

Then you reach the family room and instantly come to a standstill, hands drifting to your sides, features deliquescing to a soft smile. 

Lying on the nearest couch is your boyfriend, head propped up on top of his elbow, his fluttering lashes and gently oscillating shoulders indicating that he’s asleep. You can’t see his face below his eyes, as he has his nose nuzzled into the Cavalier spaniel resting securely in his arms, snoring tacitly into his sleeve, slumbering as deeply as her human companion.

You’ve been stumbling upon Chan sleeping in unexpected places for the better part of two years now, but you still liquefy every time as if it’s the first. These are the moments, you’ve come to realize, when you can care for him in ways he would never let you while conscious: a lift of his laptop off his thighs, a brush of your lips against his hairline, a cardigan draped lightly over his back. These are the moments when you understand in full how far you’ve come together, for him to trust you with his exhaustion with such transparency, to be so vulnerable as to leave you with memories of him that he’ll never have.

Despite your prolonged experience, it’s hard to describe what exactly you’re feeling in this moment. The mere mention of Berry has always dissipated the shadows that veil his face, has always chased off the burdens that cling to his spine. How do you put it into words, seeing your happiness at his happiest?

It suddenly occurs to you that the window beside them is cracked open. That, and you spotted extra quilts in the top shelf of Chan’s closet last night.

Chan’s eyelids lift when he feels the gentle weight of a blanket fall upon his body; so do the corners of his lips, when the culprit materializes before him. Sitting on the edge of the couch, a hand hovering over his frame, face creased into a flinch.

“Sorry,” you whisper, closing the distance between your fingers and the curve of his neck. The pad of your thumb moves over his cheekbone like a willow branch skimming water. “I didn’t think that would wake you up.”

Both of you up, you mentally amend, seeing as Berry has noticed your presence and is wagging her tail with enough vigor for it to thump against Chan’s chest. He lets her wriggle out of his arms and into yours; you emit a noise of glee and gather her into you.

If only you had seen the expression he wears then, watching your eyes scrunch closed at the frenzied kisses she presses to your face. His first love and his very last.

“Don’t apologize,” he answers. “I’m the one who should be sorry for leaving you in bed, I just…”

His voice trails off, but he knows by the softness in your irises when they meet his that you already know.

You move like clockwork. Chan presses up into the back of the couch, the quilt’s edge lifted in wordless invitation. It is your chest that Berry burrows into this time, the top of her head sliding into the space between your chin and the sofa’s cushion. It is Chan’s chest that you’re folded into, the arms around your waist like the coziest of cabins in a sun-spattered wood. It is the back of your neck that he nuzzles his nose into, but not before he litters gossamer kisses across the expanse of skin, as if printing the notes to a lullaby he knows well.

Everything is warm, so warm, so right, and jetlag starts to feel like a distant trouble.

You open your mouth while teetering on the cusp of a dream.

“Baby?” 

He hums into you, listening.

“Always be happy, okay?”

You don’t notice the solitary tear that traverses the bridge of his nose, lands in the cotton of your hood, and dyes the bunched-up fabric a few shades darker. You don’t notice how his embrace around you tightens marginally, like how one’s eyes can’t help but find their dearest possession when the building’s on fire.

“Okay,” he whispers, and kisses your nape once more. Your and Chan’s eyes close together. Berry licks your chin again, then follows suit.

(Another hour later, Chan’s parents walk into the family room. They decide to go out to breakfast for fear of making too much noise in the kitchen, Chan’s mother blotting away tears as she ducks into shotgun, Chan’s father laughing at her sentimentality while blinking back his own.

Another few hours later, Hannah takes maybe fifty-some photographs of the triad of unmoving heaps occupying their couch. Then she grumbles at Berry for being dead asleep at eleven in the morning: “Those two arrived here from across the world yesterday. What’s your excuse?”)

🔖 (send an ask or reply to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@skzms・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@ur-boyfiend・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa・@randomwimp・ @automaticpersonabatpaper・@aceofvernons・@linos-kitten・@newhope8

© 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘅 (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support.

[gurugirl]

Baby Daddy | friends to lovers (to parents)

Summary: After you have a one-night stand with your good friend Harry and become pregnant he doesn't know for certain that the baby is his, but he has his suspicions.

A/N: Requested! Here & Here. This was originally posted on Patreon.

Word Count: 13,995

Warning, smut, pregnancy trope (there will be talk of y/n going through her pregnancy and all that entails but not in great detail), mention of abortion, alcohol consumption, teeniest bit of angst, lying, fluff

❊❊❊

You stared down at the pink double lines on the stick that indicated you were pregnant. How could it be? It was a one-time thing! He’d only come inside of you once (and you’d also only had sex the once). How was it possible that he knocked you up? You shook your head and frowned as you sat down on the toilet lid and thought back to that night 7 weeks before.

~~

Harry was there for you. To console you after the gut-wrenching breakup with Joe. Which had kind of surprised you. Your roommate had been at work so you called your best friend, Erin, and she was busy already but told you she’d see you the next morning as soon as she could. You called your cousin. Voicemail. And then you called Harry, not thinking he’d even pick up. But he did – I need to go out for a drink. Joe just broke up with me. Come get drunk with me.

Harry showed up at your apartment and wrapped you in his arms and you sobbed into his armpit, which smelled really nice you thought, and when you looked up at his face to tell him as much he laughed and kissed your forehead, “You’re too adorable to cry. Come on angel. Let’s go get us a drink and talk about everything.”

One dirty martini got you yammering on and two had you sitting far too close with Harry grinning dopily. Three had you complimenting his green eyes I always thought you had the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen… and spilling intimate details about you and Joe that no one else knew.

And four? Well… Four martinis had you pressed into the wall next to the bathrooms with Harry’s hot mouth all over yours as he confessed how he’d always wanted you. And then it had Harry calling a taxi to bring you both back to your place.

“Shhh!” You giggled as Harry collapsed on your mattress and pulled you down with him making you nearly knee him in the balls.

“You shhhh!” He pawed at your bum and then ran his lips against yours as he closed his eyes, mouth half-cocked in a smile.

You weren’t being as quiet as you should have been. Your roommate could’ve heard you and Harry and that would just have opened up a whole can of worms you weren’t willing to delve into.

See, not only did she think you were still dating Joe, you and Harry were good friends. Since grammar school. And your roommate was one of your closest friends who was also very good friends with Harry. So, keeping quiet while you were on your bed with him at 2 in the morning as you unbuttoned his jeans was imperative.

He was just trying to distract you from how upset you were about Joe. He bought you drinks and had a few of his own. He kept pulling at your lip when he’d see you start to pout, and he’d make a dumb joke or compliment you so you’d feel better. Then you two were laughing and swaying together on the dance floor to one of those popular radio songs that was kind of sexy with a slow beat, he whispered into your ear that you were cute, and then his hand found your hip and the whole world stopped.

That’s how Harry wound up in your bed pressing kisses to your neck as you both hastily undressed. That’s how he wound up between your legs, eating you out until you whined that you wanted him inside of you and so without care or thought about what could go wrong or what you were getting yourself into he slowly pushed himself in and you gasped.

“Oooh, fuck that feels good…” he breathed when he felt you wrapped around him. Every rock of his hips pulled and then pushed his cock through your walls.

He whispered to you like that all throughout. Soft and sexy. His deep voice had you tingling and his cock had you absolutely gushing. Everything about having sex with Harry was intimate and sweltering. You’d never been fucked so good in your life and even though you were still upset about your recent breakup, Harry’s dick and his dirty mouth were pulling you through the murky heartache a bit faster.

He fucked you so good you saw stars when you came. And the fact that you came in the first place was a feat in and of itself. Because Joe had never once made you come in all the time you dated him.

But it had been the best. It was just what you needed in that moment. His hands and lips on your body, his deep voice in your ear telling you how he’d always wanted to do that with you, messy hair, sloppy kisses, wet thrusts…

And when he came you told him to come inside of you and you felt every bit of that as he pumped into you, gushes of his sperm filling your insides as he kissed you softly through his orgasm while you gently ran your fingers into his hair.

All of it was so good. It could have been like a fairytale, some sort of epiphany where two friends suddenly realize they’ve been in love all along and they live happily ever after. But the problem was you were both a bit tipsy and you’d fucked without a condom. And the following morning when he ducked out before Esie woke up was the last time you two ever spoke of your drunken night.

And now here you were with a positive pregnancy test that looked up at you tauntingly.

You’d had your suspicions but hoped you were wrong. You started getting a touch queasy around 10 am while you were at work and your normal vanilla latte didn’t sit right with your tummy anymore. And then there was the exhaustion. You were so tired you were falling asleep on the couch by 8 pm every night and Esie teased you about it.

But the biggest clue was when your period didn’t come. You were regular like clockwork and you knew then but just didn’t want to admit it to yourself.

You weren’t sure what to do. You knew without a doubt it wasn’t Joe’s. You two had been having issues a month before he broke up with you and you hadn’t slept together since then. That left one option for the father and you certainly weren’t going to tell Harry about it. At least not right away. You figured he didn’t deserve to be tied down to you like that. Perhaps you’d just get an abortion, or maybe you’d have the baby and never tell anyone who the father was.

Whatever you decided, it wasn’t going to be an easy decision.

. . .

“Harry’s here,” Esie spoke when you walked into your apartment after work. She was sitting on the couch, “In the bathroom. Just wanted to let you know so you don’t have a scare when he walks out. You’ve been so jumpy lately.”

You gave her a weak smile and nodded, “Oh. Thanks.”

You kind of wished he wasn’t in the bathroom. You had to pee badly. Maybe worse than you ever had in your life. That was another thing, as the weeks drew on your bladder somehow seemed to shrink and you were constantly peeing.

The moment he opened the door you raced past him to take your turn.

“Well it’s nice to see you too, Y/n,” he laughed as you pushed the door closed and sat on the toilet in relief.

There was no time for niceties. Your bladder was about to burst. And not only that… you were in a bit of a foul mood. As nice as Harry was, you just wanted to get into your PJs and curl up with a book and ginger tea to soothe your queasy tummy. You really weren’t keen on entertaining him that evening.

When you finally joined the pair in the living room you’d already put on your comfy clothes and washed your face clean of makeup.

“Oh, you staying in for the night?” Harry spoke as you plopped down into the soft cushion.

“Yeah. Not feeling very good right now. Why? Are you guys doing something?”

Esie laughed, “Y/n’s been really forgetful lately,” she turned to look at you and tilted her head, “It’s Harry’s birthday today, Y/n. We were gonna take him out. Remember?”

You groaned and dropped your head back into the couch cushion, “Fuck. I totally forgot. I’m sorry, uh,” you looked at Harry and forced a smile, “Happy birthday.”

He shrugged, “It’s fine. Just another day. You don’t have to come if you’re not up for it, Y/n.”

You shook your head and pushed yourself from the couch to stand, “No. I’m coming. Let me just get dressed…”

And yet the other thing that was becoming… well, a thing… was that some of your clothes were a bit too tight in the waist. In the morning you could put on almost anything from your closet and it’d feel normal. But by the end of the day, your clothes had suddenly shrunk. The first pair of jeans you pulled up your legs buttoned but they were tight. So you cursed and tore them off, kicking them away before settling on leggings and a sweater.

At that point, you were around ten weeks and you had yet to go to the doctor, which you knew was bad but you weren’t sure what to do. Part of you wanted to have a baby, even if no one ever knew who the father was. But the other part of you wanted to continue on in life as you were before that night with Harry. Before you got pregnant.

Your small group of friends were already at the bar when the three of you arrived. Everyone ordered drinks and you had a water.

“Not drinking tonight?” Seth commented.

You shook your head, “Not feeling the greatest today.”

Harry sat down next to you and put an arm over your shoulder, “You didn’t have to come. I know you’re not feeling great. Stomach bug or something?”

You turned to look up at him and in that moment you felt a bit of relief. Like there was nothing to be scared of. Harry was a good guy. Someone you trusted and could rely on. Maybe having the baby wouldn’t be so bad. Especially if it turned out anything like him.

“Yeah, I think so. Just feeling blah…”

“Well thank you for being here. It wouldn’t have been the same without you,” he grinned and those damn dimples were like an elixir, soothing and restorative. Maybe it was pheromones or just being tucked under his arm so close or being given his attention, but you knew for sure that he was attractive, you’d always thought so. But now? It had morphed into some dreamy kind of residue that clung to you all the time. Made you wish you could just reach up and press your mouth to his. Tell him the truth and see what happened.

You thought about it often. That night. How ardent it was. You’d never had it like that before. You two just fit together so well. Everything slid together like it was a key into a lock. He touched you just how you craved, his warm lips were sensual, his words, his voice, his body, his laugh.

Harry stayed by your side all night. Everyone sang him happy birthday and he pinched your arm when you told him he was getting old. You couldn’t tell if that was just him being himself around you or if he was kind of flirting with you. But you brushed off that thought easily. He could have any girl he wanted and even though you sometimes wondered about the way he was looking at you, you couldn’t allow yourself to get hung up on that.

You had bigger things to worry about. Much bigger things. And just being next to him with his fingers at your shoulder, his deep raspy voice in your ear, the subtle flirting… it was in that moment that you made your decision about what you were going to do with the baby.

After you finally booked your first appointment with your doctor your decision to keep It was crazy but you wanted it. Doing the whole single-motherhood thing might be insane but you were determined. Somehow you felt a connection to the little life growing inside of you and the idea of being without it suddenly felt worse than letting your life go back to the way it was before.

It was months before anyone caught on. Before your best friend Erin figured it out. You were glad that none of your friends were observant enough to notice too soon (and that the weather had been cool enough that your wearing baggy sweaters didn’t raise any eyebrows). You felt like you needed those few months to adjust to what things were going to be like. To make a plan, to settle it within yourself that you were going to have a child and you were going to do it alone.

Well, mostly alone. You weren’t sure when or if you’d tell Harry. It might have been selfish to keep it to yourself but somehow you felt like it would mess up his life. He’d be forever stuck in your little town. Kind of like you probably would be.

“Can I ask you something,” Erin whispered as she pulled you aside.

You sighed. You’d noticed her eyeing your belly region since you arrived at her house. And on that particular day in May, it was oddly sweltering hot so you refused to put on anything that would have you sweating more than you needed to. You were at the point in your pregnancy where your comfort started to take precedence over hiding what was happening in your body. You couldn’t take it any longer. Five months pregnant and the baby was already bigger than was normal. Your doctor had made a joke that you’d have a 9 lb baby. Which didn’t sound funny to you at all.

Of course, Harry would make a massive baby. You wondered if he’d been big when he was born too.

“I know what you’re gonna say and it is exactly what it looks like,” you put your palms on both sides of your growing tummy.

Erin flitted her gaze down to your tummy and up to your face as she put her hand over her mouth, “Oh my god. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I needed time to let it sink in. Just didn’t want to deal with talking about it really. It’s embarrassing.”

Erin shook her head, “No it’s not. You know you can trust me. Right? So it’s Joe’s?”

You blinked your eyes and looked down at the grass under your sandaled feet. You’d rehearsed what you’d say to everyone but you hated not telling the whole truth, “I haven’t gotten a paternity test but…” you shrugged. Hoping that was enough. Not a lie but certainly not the whole truth.

 “Oh wow. So he knocked you up and then broke up with you? Or wait… does he not know?”

You shook your head, “No one knows. Except for you now. And the doctor of course. Oh, and my mom. That’s it.”

Erin was having a little backyard barbeque. Most of your friends would be there. You figured with your outfit, a pair of linen shorts with a stretchy waistband and a tanktop that should have been a bit breezier but instead was rather tight, people would notice. Not everyone had arrived yet but you were anticipating a coming out of sorts. It made you nervous but you couldn’t really hide it anymore.

“So no alcohol for you then,” Erin snickered as she placed two bottles of wine on the outdoor table.

“Yeah. No booze for me for a bit,” you laughed with her. It was nice to have your best friend in the loop finally. You had wanted to tell her so many times. Nearly did the moment you saw the lines on the pregnancy test. But you just never found the right time to do it and selfishly you wanted to keep it a secret a little longer before everyone found out.

And just as you assumed, everyone who came, who knew you, took note of your obviously pregnant belly. Those who knew you asked about it, while those who didn’t didn’t. Most were perfectly polite. But your thoughts and attention were elsewhere because you were most nervous to see Harry. To face him and take in his reaction.

You were in the kitchen putting buns on a platter when he finally joined you. You hadn’t really looked in his direction much when he arrived because you were too nervous to see his face when he noticed your belly.

“Hey,” his voice was soft and disarming. You turned to look at him as he walked up behind you and squeezed your shoulders, “Gonna tell me what this is all about?”

You looked down at your tummy and then pulled another bun from its package and shrugged, “Well, I’m pregnant. What more should I say?” You laughed as you glanced at him and then back down to the platter. The words felt acrid because you knew why he was asking and now you were going to have to lie to him.

“I can see that, Y/n. How far along are you?” His expression was serious. He was clearly not in the mood for jokes and you could understand why.

Was he doing mental math? He probably was. Harry was not a dumb man. His first question to ask how far along you were indicated as much.

“About 5 months.”

It was silent for a moment. You crumpled up the plastic bag and looked at him and the expression on his face was telling.

“What?”

He shook his head and leaned his hip into the counter, taking the plastic from your hand, “Is it…” he took a breath and searched your eyes, “Is the baby…?”

You shook your head, “No. It’s Joe’s. Don’t worry.”

A full-on, flat-out lie. You hadn’t planned on lying directly like that but how could you tell him the truth? You’d already dug your hole so deep, might as well keep going.

“You sure? I mean… I thought you said that you two hadn’t… like… we didn’t use protection, Y/n,” he lowered his voice.

Letting out a breath you nodded, “Don’t worry, Harry. Really. You’re not on the hook for this. Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay. Does Joe know?” You were surprised that he appeared… disappointed.

“No. Hardly anyone knows,” you laughed, “Well, after today everyone’s gonna know I guess.”

Harry carried the tray of buns outside for you. You told him you could do it. That you were on bun duty because it was one thing Erin would allow you to help with. But he insisted. In fact the rest of the afternoon he was doing lots of small things for you. Once you were seated to eat he gathered up all the sauces and brought them to you, asking which you’d like and spooning them onto your plastic plate. He refilled your cup with water every time it got low, helped you stand up when you started to get out of your chair after eating, and then brought you a cupcake when you mentioned to Erin how good they looked.

But Harry was kind of always like that. He was the sort of friend that did nice things for all of his friends. Except there was something this time. Perhaps it was just your own perception of it based on the little secret you had, but his attention was not taken for granted. You appreciated his kindness.

And before he left he pulled you to the side and hugged you into his broad chest, “Let me know if you need anything. Okay?” He cupped your face in his hands to look at you.

You nodded, “Okay. Thank you, Harry.”

. . .

Harry learned you hadn’t gotten a paternity test when he talked to Erin about you. You had made it seem like you were sure it was Joe’s but how could you be so sure? The timing was suspicious to him, especially since you told him, the night you two had sex, that Joe hadn’t touched you in over a month. And that’s kind of what put everything into motion with Harry coming on to you. He felt like when you told him that, you were laying down some kind of hint. So that part he remembered clearly.

But he remembered everything quite clearly from that night. He might have been a bit tipsy but there wasn’t a moment he’d forgotten. Like how he orgasmed inside of you. And how after he’d come you both laid together with his cock still inside of you as he gently rocked in deeper, which he was now sure had only pushed his come further into you.

And that had been so dumb. Of both of you. You asked him to come inside of you and he did without question. That was where his horny/tipsy brain let him down. But what choice did he have except to believe you when you told him the baby wasn’t his?

He wouldn’t press the issue but he wasn’t going to ignore his suspicions either. He’d push them down and choose to believe you but not without being a bit more watchful.

. . .

Once all your friends knew you were pregnant word spread a little faster than you preferred. You just hoped that it wouldn’t get back to Joe because if it did you’d have to confess that you lied and then all hell would break loose. Or that’s how it felt anyway. Maybe that was a bit dramatic of you with whole hell-breaking-loose talk but you were allowed to be dramatic!

All your life you’d done things the normal way. Under the radar. Never causing so much as a peep when you didn’t like something just so you wouldn’t offend anyone. You put up with a lot of shit from other people who didn’t take your thoughts and feelings into account.

So now things were different. It was like being pregnant had changed you. Where you once were a quiet doormat, now you were a bit louder with demands.

“Jesus. What’s gotten into you?” Erin laughed when you plopped down onto your couch after you just told her you had no desire for a baby shower and to drop it.

You put your hands on your belly, “This. I think being pregnant has like changed my brain chemistry or something. I have no patience for bullshit anymore. And a baby shower? Really, Erin? That sounds awful.”

Erin sat down next to you and put her hand on your bump, “I like the new you. And I can’t wait to meet this little one who’s giving you this new attitude.”

You laughed, “Yeah. Me too. The closer it gets the more scared I am but also really excited in a way.”

“You realize I’m throwing you a baby shower whether you say yes or not. I love your new gives-no-shits approach lately but come on, Y/n. You need things and if Joe isn’t going to pitch in then you need help from all your friends.”

You knew she wasn’t going to give up on the baby shower idea. You felt like a fraud, though. Gifts and a whole afternoon spent in your honor because you went and had sex without a condom?

“I know you’re gonna do it anyway. All I ask is that you don’t make some big announcement. I don’t want Joe to know about it or anything.”

Erin sighed, “Why don’t you tell him, Y/n? He could help you with everything too. And I know you two broke up but it’s something to think about ya know? Like he could pay child support and you’d have the father listed on the birth certificate and it’s good for like, health stuff too. Like anything that could be hereditary from Joe?”

Pursing your lips you looked toward the window. You’d already decided on telling Harry at some point. You’d gotten past the whole single mom, doing it on her own BS when the doctor told you the same thing. How important it could be to know the baby’s father’s medical history. You just hadn’t figured out when to tell him yet. Timing would be important but the shame of having lied all along was really what was keeping you from telling him.

“You’re right. The doctor told me the same thing. But, it’s not that easy…” your pulse increased as you looked at Erin. You didn’t know why but you felt the need to tell her everything. To come right out and just tell her. She was your best friend after all. You could trust her not to say anything.

“I know it’s not easy but come on… he’s gonna figure it out at some point. He was just at Seth’s house the other night when I went to pick up Marcy. Seth’s cousin knows you’re pregnant and so do half of his friends and if Seth finds out you know Joe will find out.”

Sighing you leaned your head back into the couch cushion behind you, “It’s not Joe’s.”

Erin was silent for a moment and then you felt the couch shift as she angled herself to face you, “Okay. And do you know who the father is?”

Nodding you turned your head to look at her, “Don’t say anything to anyone. But it’s… Harry.”

Her eyes nearly bulged from her head as she stood up and paced in front of the couch, “Harry Styles? Our Harry?” She stopped and looked at you, shock on her face.

“Yes. That Harry.”

She continued pacing, “How? When did… but…”

“It was just one night. Right after Joe broke up with me we went out and he came back home with me and then that was it. Got knocked up from just the once.”

“Holy shit… Okay… Okay…” Erin sat down and took your hand into hers, “Harry’s a really good man. I just know he’d be supportive and loving with the baby. I actually think Harry being the father is way better. This is actually,” she puffed out a laugh, “This good news! Oh my god, this is… and I think you two would make the best couple. He’s always had a crush on you and–“

“Stop,” you put your hand up, “One thing at a time. Okay? I’m not thinking about any kind of romantic relationship right now. I’m just concerned with getting this thing out of me healthily and figuring out how to tell Harry in the first place.”

“So you’re gonna tell him. Okay… Listen… I’m not going to tell anyone. You already know that. But this, Y/n… this is good. Okay? Harry and you? You don’t need to be thinking about the future of your relationship with him right now but you’re set, girl. If Harry’s the dad? But you better figure out how to tell him soon. He’s been talking to some chick he works with. I don’t think it’s anything serious but still…”

Rolling your eyes you shook your head, “I’ll figure out when to tell him. It’ll be when I’m ready. And if he starts seeing this other chick then good for him. He deserves happiness.”

Erin scoffed and rolled her eyes, “Yeah sure.”

. . .

You didn’t realize how much it would affect you seeing Harry with someone else. The girl was cute. She was nice and her perfume smelled pleasant (which was good because you were very sensitive to smell as of late and most scents made you want to puke).

Harry had stopped by at Erin’s to drop off a few things he picked up for your upcoming baby shower while you were there and the girl was with him because they were on their way to a movie. A date.

The introduction was nice enough but you didn’t like it all. You hadn’t expected to feel the way you were. And it was your fault in a way. Maybe things would be different if you’d just told Harry already.

“How’s our baby, doing?” Harry put his palm on your stomach and you could have burst into tears. The “our” baby was innocent. Your tight-knit friend group all called the baby our baby, but somehow in that moment it just hit different.

Swallowing down your emotions you put on a smile, “It’s good! Super healthy. Just another month and a half and I’ll get to meet the baby. It’s gonna be big, though. Doctor says it might be close to 9 lbs.”

Harry blinked and slid his palm down the thin material of your flowy maternity shirt over the bump and looked at you as if he was trying to speak paragraphs to you in a glance, “Wow. That’s… big. And how’s the mommy? Are you feeling okay?”

You nodded and looked from the girl who was standing next to Harry looking at your massive tummy and then back up to Harry, “Feeling tired. And this thing is huge and heavy. But we’re healthy, so…” you shrugged and Harry removed his hand from your tummy but he kept his eyes on yours.

“I’m glad you’re healthy. That’s the most important thing. Oh, and here,” he walked toward the table where he placed the shopping bags and pulled out a box of your favorite pistachio and vanilla cookies from the bakery you loved. “Made an extra stop to pick these up for you.”

Erin and Harry’s girlfriend or whatever she was stood and watched as your eyes teared up and Harry handed you the small container. He had been nothing but sweet and helpful to you during your pregnancy and all the regret you already had about not telling him came pouring out of your eyes in that moment. It was ridiculous.

“Hey, what’s wrong? You still like these yeah?”

You nodded as Harry pulled you into his arms, though the big bump in your tummy made it hard to have a proper hug, “I’m fine. Just emotional some days. Thank you, Harry. This is so so kind of you.”

You hated that this chick Harry was with had seen that. Hated that you were so sensitive and that Harry was with someone else. Hated that you looked like a bloated beluga and that your thighs were aching for no fucking reason. You hated that despite the gross feeling in your gut you wanted to devour the cookies like a starved madwoman.

“You want me to stay? Want to talk?” His deep voice in your ear as he rubbed your back was calming. And if you were a sliver more selfish than you already were you’d say yes and have him stay with you and skip the date entirely and you’d revel in watching the disappointment on his date’s face when he told her he was choosing you over her. Even though she was nice, that would have still felt really good.

But you wouldn’t do that. Wouldn’t interrupt Harry’s plans that way. Looking up at him you shook your head, “No. That’s okay.”

The look on his face slowly transitioned from strangely hopeful and soulful to something like defeat. Disheartened. You pulled at his hand and smiled before mouthing thank you.

When Harry and the girl left Erin sighed, “I don’t mean to be nosy or push you or make you feel like you’re doing something wrong but I really think you should tell him and do it soon. Did you see the way he was looking at you? Y/n… I know you saw that. He’d drop everything for you. He’d break up with that girl and I guarantee the moment you tell him it’s his he’d do anything. That man is smitten with you.”

You shook your head and took a bite of a cookie, “No he’s not. Look at me? I’m a mess. Everything is puffy, I can hardly move… look at this!” You lifted your hand up to show her your swollen fingers.

Erin laughed and pushed her fingers through yours, “Beautiful. You’re gorgeous. Glowing. An entire life is being grown right here,” she put her hand over your tummy, “And Harry Styles is in love with you all while thinking this baby is someone else’s. Mark my words, Y/n. The moment you tell him is the moment you’re gonna learn how far gone he is for you and how he’d do anything to make you happy.”

You laughed and shook your head but you did wonder. Because Harry had been a certain way with you since the day he learned you were pregnant. His doting and his gentleness were not something you could ignore.

. . .

The morning of the baby shower had been good. Your mother took you to get breakfast and you both walked together along the path near the lake for some exercise and fresh air. The only two people in the world who knew about Harry being the father were your mother and Erin. Your mother had met Harry before and she was quite fond of him. Everyone was fond of Harry, though.

“I just don’t understand why you haven’t told him, Y/n.”

“Well, it’s because I lied about it, Mom. I wasn’t thinking clearly at the beginning of the pregnancy. I don’t know if it was hormones or scrambled brains or what… Now I’m sort of regretting it but I’ll figure it out. He’ll know soon. I just need to figure out how to break it to him.”

“How to break it to him? Well, maybe something like… Hey, you. You knocked me up. This baby is actually yours and not Joe’s. Sorry for the inconvenience but that’s the deal.” Your mom laughed, mimicking your voice.

You laughed and shook your head, “Yeah it’ll probably be something like that. I just hate that I lied about it. Because I’m not a liar. I thought I was doing it to protect myself… I don’t even really know what I was thinking but I will tell him. Soon.”

When you arrived at your apartment most everyone was already there. Including Harry. The place was filled with little decorations and baby things. A table overflowing with presents and some sat on the floor next to the table. Another spot where there was food.

You didn’t know what the sex was going to be and didn’t want to know until the moment it was born so the decorations were neutral colors with a few splashes of blue and pink here and there. It was cute.

“There you are…” Harry swooped in and took the tray of goodies your mom was holding and he kissed her cheek, “Nice to see you! How have you been?”

You and your mother followed him to the kitchen, your mother giving you a knowing glance before she responded, “Just great. Everything is pretty much the same as it was since I last saw you, except now my baby is pregnant.”

Harry chuckled and once the tray was placed on the counter he draped his arm over your shoulder and hugged you, “And how are you?”

He always asked how you were. Always offered to help. Often would buy you random things he thought might make your pregnancy easier. Creams, pads for your back, nausea bands, teas…

“I’m good. Closer and closer. How are you, Harry?”

Soft pink lips turned up as he kept his sparkling green eyes on you, “Good. Happier now that you’re here.”

You rolled your eyes at him and just as you were about to retort Erin popped into the kitchen, “The lady of the hour! Come! I have to show you something!”

The baby shower was relatively fun. But it was tiring. It lasted longer than you had anticipated and you tried not to complain. Opening every present was a bore. A full-on snooze fest. Most things were just practical stuff you’d need. Lotions and powders, things to make bath time easier and safer, diapers, bottles, cleaning things for said bottles, a special baby food blender, onesies, socks, bibs, blankets… But you didn’t complain because you didn’t want to seem ungrateful.

It was a sea of pastel yellow, green, creamy whites… The cake was good, though. And finally, when everyone started to leave you felt like you could breathe. Having a small apartment packed full of people felt like you were a zoo animal on display. But the remainder were welcome and you appreciated that some straggled behind to help clean up.

Your mother left once all the dishes were clean and put away and then it was just you, Erin, your roommate, Harry, and two others who were helping put things away so you didn’t have to lift a finger.

You were sitting on the couch with your legs propped up on a pillow when Harry sat down by your feet and pulled them into his lap.

“Hey!” You laughed and started to pull away from him but the moment his thumb mushed into the tender part of your sole you gave in and relaxed your limbs.

“That was easy. Thought you’d gripe a bit more. Feels good yeah?”

You nodded, “It does feel good, actually. My feet are so swollen, though. Sorry.”

Harry continued kneading at your feet, rubbing sore spots and you were working to hold back your moans, “Stop it. Your feet look fine. This is normal anyway isn’t it?”

“Well, yeah but still. Even my fingers are puffy,” you laughed.

Erin sat down on the chair near the TV and smirked at you, “Y/n doesn’t believe it when I tell her she’s glowing. She’s sexy as a pregnant woman isn’t she Har?”

You narrowed your gaze at Erin in warning.

Harry laughed, his eyes on yours, “I think she’s just as lovely as always. Pregnancy definitely suits her.”

Everyone else joined in the living room and you moved your feet from Harry with a quick thank you as you felt the baby kick. You put your hand on your tummy and gasped, “It’s kicking!”

“Can I touch?” Your roommate asked as she moved from her spot to make her way to you.

“Yeah. Go ahead,” you smiled and showed her where to put her hand. But there was no movement. You poked at the spot and groaned, “Ahhh… a tease, this one.”

Erin walked over and put her hand on your tummy. Nothing. The baby didn’t budge. It often did this. Whenever you’d feel it move it stopped moving for anyone else. Not even your own mother had the chance to feel the baby kick in your belly.

Your two other friends also tested their luck, “It’s always like this. I’m the only one who’s ever gotten to feel it kick. I don’t know what it is.”

“You try,” Erin looked at Harry as she backed away to sit.

Harry licked his lips, “I mean… only if it’s okay. I don’t want to–“

“It’s fine. If you want to it’s okay. Really. Probably won’t move but ya know. Why not?” You laughed.

Harry scooted himself across the couch to sit right next to you as he placed his hand over your tummy where you pointed.

“Hey there, little one. Uncle Harry is here saying hello,” you watched Harry as he spoke in a soft tone. His deep voice had your skin prickling and your heart rate increasing. No one else really spoke to the baby and somehow seeing Harry do it drew the smallest bit of emotion up in your chest as he looked into your eyes and slid his thumb next to yours.

But then it kicked. The baby kicked and kicked again. Harry laughed and placed his other palm over your tummy so he was holding you with both hands and the little sucker was doing acrobatics all of a sudden.

“It’s never done that…” you spoke as you laid your palm over the space, “For anyone but me.”

“It’s kicking for me,” he grinned and his eyes softened as he cooed in a hushed voice looking down at his hands, “Hey baby. We can’t wait to meet you.”

“Maybe it’s your voice,” you whispered and Harry looked like he was in awe. Eyes twinkling with emotion.

“I feel so special.”

“Can I try again?” Erin stood over you two. Harry moved his hands away and the moment her palm took over the place Harry’s was the baby stopped moving again.

You laughed and felt around, jabbing gently into your tummy, “I don’t know why it’s doing this. Come on little human. Kick for Erin…”

You caught Harry’s gaze on yours. He had a small smile on his mouth and his cheeks were flushed.

Erin shook her head, “Ahh it’s okay. Now’s not my time.”

“We should probably get going.” The pair who arrived together both stood and said their goodbyes. Harry got up and went into the kitchen as you walked your friends to the door and thanked them for their help.

“Go talk to him,” Erin whispered in your ear.

“What?” You scrunched your face in confusion.

“Harry. Go talk to him. He’s in the kitchen and I think he’s upset or something.”

“Why would he be upset?”

Erin raised her brows at you and looked toward the kitchen and mouthed, “Just go.”

Sighing you waddled toward the kitchen and noticed Harry had his palms flat on the countertop as he looked downward at the platter of cupcakes silently.

“Hey…” you gently put your hand on his tricep, “Are you okay?”

He looked down at you and nodded, “I’m fine. Just… needed a minute. Felt like it was nonstop today ya know?” He pushed himself from the counter and let out a forced laugh.

“Okay. You seemed upset just then. Wanted to make sure nothing was wrong.”

Harry opened his mouth and then closed it before he shook his head, “I’m fine. Thank you.”

“Oh!” You reached for his hand and pulled over your tummy again.

The kicking was nonstop as long as Harry’s hand was on your tummy, “Hi there. You wanted to say hello again, didn’t you? I am flattered you seem to like me so much. I’m your favorite, aren’t I? Your secret’s safe with me little one,” he bent closer to your tummy to speak to the baby.

If he didn’t give you butterflies before, well that whole exchange certainly did. You were aware your hormones were going bonkers too. Just seeing Harry had put you into overdrive, though no one would ever know it. Who knew pregnant women got so horny? Your doctor told you it could happen but looking at his big hands on your bump, the soft smile on his face, the look of something that could easily be mistaken for fondness in his eyes had your head spinning.

You laughed when Harry looked up at you and stood back to his full height, “What? Baby likes me more than the others. Pretty sure we’re gonna be best buds.”

A small breath fell from your lips at the thought. At Harry thinking it.

“I sure hope so. Just a little over a month. Doctor says could be sooner due to the size.”

“Yeah. You said on track to be a big baby,” he smiled and looked down at his hand on your bump and then back at you, “Will you…” he cleared his throat, “Please let me know if there’s anything you need or want. I can, you know, help. And… if you go into labor I’d like to know. I’m sure you already have a plan with your mother and Erin but…” he trailed off his words as you put your hand over his.

“I’ll let you know if there’s anything. You’ve already been so helpful, Harry. I’m beyond grateful for you. And when I go into labor I’ll make sure someone calls you.”

He nodded, “Thank you.”

There was something about that moment. How tender and vulnerable it was. Your eyes locked and his hand on your tummy with the baby kicking inside. His baby. And it felt like he knew it too. Like he could see through your bullshit and he was just waiting for you to tell him the truth. Praying you’d spit it out once and for all.

And that had stuck with you. The moment the baby had kicked for him was like a signal for you. Some kind of omen or something (not that you believed in those kinds of things). It was time to tell him.

“You wanna come over tomorrow and help me set up the crib?”

. . .

You slept like shit. Which wasn’t too outside of the norm since Harry’d gotten you knocked up. His massive baby was pushing on all your organs and made it hard to get comfortable in bed at night. And just when you’d start to doze off you’d need to pee or there was a sharp pain or your leg would cramp up.

In short, by the time Harry arrived the following day to help you set up the crib, you were in a terrible mood. You were still going to tell him the truth but you were unsure of how it would all go down now that your mood was spoiled. Where you’d been so hopeful before, now you were doubtful. What if he was repulsed?

You had wanted time alone with him. Your roommate was out so it would be perfect. It felt like it would be better to tell him when no one else was around.

He brought croissants and jam and your favorite cookies. The moment you saw him with the bakery box in hand and a warm smile on his pink lips your bad mood was suddenly lifted slightly. Just the sight of him was a breath of fresh air.

When he sat the box down he pulled you in for a hug and kissed your forehead, “How are you feeling today?”

You rolled your eyes because he was too perfect. Too sweet.

“I’m… well, I’m tired. Didn’t sleep much. This thing makes it hard to get comfortable and my back aches. But… we’ll survive.” You laughed it off.

Harry’s brows pinched together, “Okay. Let’s get you off your feet then. Here,” he pulled you into your bedroom where the unopened crib box was sitting. He gestured for you to sit down on your bed, “Sit.” He helped you scoot into the headboard and stuffed a pillow behind your back before he turned, “Let me grab the box in the kitchen.”

You watched him quickly exit your room and looked around yourself. He had no idea what kind of bomb you were about to drop on him. Your nerves were all over the place. You were sure that was part of why you didn’t sleep well the night before. You couldn’t put all the blame on Harry’s baby.

When he returned to the room with the pastry box and two plates, “Cookie first? Or croissant with jam?”

“Mmm…” you looked into the box, “… cookie I think first.”

“Cookie for mama… here you go,” he handed you a plate with a cookie and you huffed a laugh. God, just hearing him say that had your toes tingling.

Harry began to remove the parts from the box and handed you the instructions to read over, “Okay. Read to me what I need to do first.” He took a bite of a croissant.

“Attach small end panels A to posts D with lock washers and connector bolts. Here,” you turned it so he could see the figure in the picture with the parts and he began to put sections together as you read off the instructions.

You wound up getting up to help him even though he told you to stay put. You insisted anyway and handed him the small tools as you read the directions.

“This is so much more work than I thought it’d be,” he laughed as he tilted the nearly put-together crib upright.

You covered your mouth and looked at its frame. It was almost as if none of what was happening was real until you saw the crib there, at the foot of your bed with Harry’s hand on one of the corner posts.

He reached out to rub your arm, “You okay?”

Once again, your emotions and hormones were wrecking you. You sat down and Harry sat next to you.

Sniffing you nodded and laughed, “I’m okay. I just can’t believe there’s a crib in my room for a baby who’s going to be here sooner than I’m ready for.”

“I know it’s wild. I never really imagined what it’d be like to put a crib together before.”

You smiled sheepishly and looked down at your tummy. You wondered if the correlation between Harry being near you and making your heart race had something to do with the baby always kicking only for him. Especially when you looked into his eyes and he was looking at you like that.

“So, uh…” you laughed, “You still seeing that one girl from work?”

Harry cocked his head and looked at you with an amused smile, “Maybe. Why? You never once asked about girls I’m dating before.”

“Oh… I was just curious. You don’t have to answer or anything,” you frowned and moved to stand but your movement lacked grace and you only fell back into the bed and Harry put his hand on your back.

“I was teasing. You can ask me anything, Y/n. But it’s just casual. Haven’t been out with her in a couple weeks. Might not see her again outside of work.”

“Why not? She seemed really nice,” you were thrilled by the news but tried not to let just how thrilled you were show.

Harry laughed through his nose as he kept his eyes on yours, “Just cause. Kind of felt like I was leading her on a little. Never really was that into her.”

You nodded and pursed your lips to act casual but Harry’s hand was still on your back and your roommate was coming home soon and you needed to tell him. It felt like your room was closing in around you. It was time.

You inhaled deeply and swallowed, “Um… I need to tell you something. It’s kind of big and…” another deep breath and the feel of Harry’s hand soothingly rubbing your back that felt like he already knew what you were going to say as if he were coaxing it out of you gently. “Uh…”

“It’s okay. Take your time.”

You smiled at him before closing your eyes and blurting out the words, “Joe’s not the father.”

Harry’s soft caresses slowed down as he pushed his hand upward to your shoulder, “I kind of had a feeling it wasn’t his.”

Popping your eyes open you looked at Harry, “You… didn’t think it was Joe’s?”

Harry shook his head, “Felt like you weren’t telling me everything. Are you gonna tell me who the father is then?” He raised his brows. He knew. He already knew. But he needed you to say it. To tell him. You could see it in his expression that he knew.

“Well, that kind of just leaves one person, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t know. You tell me, Y/n.” He wasn’t going to make this easy but of course you deserved that.

Pushing out a breath you nodded and put your hand on your tummy, “It’s… you.”

Harry nodded his head as he kept his eyes on yours. You swallowed thickly when he removed his hand from your shoulder and stood up before running his fingers into his hair and began to laugh.

You didn’t know what was going through his head but his reaction was… well it wasn’t what you imagined and now you were wondering if you should have just kept it all in. Never told him or anyone the truth. Because letting another full human being into the mix was daunting. Harry had his own life and hobbies and he was dating and he was in the process of looking for a house to buy and he’d recently talked about getting a dog…

You started to spiral in your thoughts, regretting that you told him at all. Feeling like you’d just made a grave error when you felt Harry’s arm slide behind your back, “Hey… come on. Don’t cry…”

It hadn’t even dawned on you that you were crying. You were too overwhelmed by the feeling of rejection and embarrassment to take note that tears were pouring out of your eyes.

“Sorry!” You squeaked and hid your face in your arm, turning away from him.

Harry pulled you in closer and smushed his lips to your temple, “Shh…”

You gasped to catch your breath and felt the warm singe of embarrassment still frothing over your skin. The tears weren’t helping anything because now you just looked like a lunatic. Unable to form words or look him in the eyes. You’d even put on mascara before he came over so you’d look cuter when you told him he was the baby daddy.

“We’re gonna have a baby,” he spoke against your hair and ran his hand up and down your arm gently.

You laughed and buried your face into his clavicle.

“Can I tell you something, Y/n?”

You nodded, and a muffled okay came from your mouth as you kept your face tucked away.

“Can you look at me first?”

“Harry my face is gross. You don’t want to see this…”

“Nothing about you is gross. You’re breathtaking. Please look at me.”

Another puffed laugh fell from your mouth. Breathtaking. That was a bit of an exaggeration.

You slowly pulled your face away from his chest and tilted your head up to look at him. The grin on his face stretched upward and he ran his thumbs under your eyes, “Look at you. Nothing gross here. Bit of makeup down the face. You don’t need this stuff anyway,” he wiped the smudged mascara and you brought a hand up to wipe with him.

“Sorry… I should know better than to put mascara on these days. Everything makes me cry,” you ran your fingers under the delicate skin of your eyes as Harry continued wiping at your cheeks.

“It’s an emotional thing. All this. Good to get a cry in here and there.”

You laughed and sniffled. Harry didn’t let his pupils stray from yours.

“So, listen…” he inhaled, “I want to be with you. I have wanted that. When I learned you and Joe broke up I thought that was my chance. But then we slept together and I thought you regretted it. You kind of acted funny around me for a bit after that so I backed off. But really, I wanted to scoop you up and make you mine. Figured maybe you just needed time to get over Joe.”

You were stunned. You blinked your eyes and shook your head, “You… I thought…” A breath fell from your lips.

“It’s okay if you don’t want me like that. But I do want to be part of this,” he placed his hand on your pregnant belly, “This is ours. I want to help. I want to do everything I can to be there for you.”

“You want to be with me? Like…” You blinked in disbelief.

“Yes. Like I’m in love with you.”

He’d just blurted it out so casually. As if you weren’t in a delicate state and that sentence couldn’t send you to your grave. As if those words wouldn’t have your head spinning and your heart raging behind your ribcage. As if him loving you was the most obvious thing.

“Wha– you… I’m surprised. I… love?”

“I’m sorry. Maybe I should have waited for that one. But you did just tell me I’m the dad so… call it even,” he laughed.

“You’re laughing? Harry… this is…” you started to tear up again as you pushed at his chest. He’d waited all this time to admit he was in love with you and somehow it just seemed unfair, “You should have told me. This would have all been so different.”

“And you should have told me, Y/n. I could have been here with you. Could have driven you to every appointment and we could like… talk about everything and… be together. If you even want that.”

He was right of course. If you’d just told him sooner maybe everything would have fallen into place. Maybe it would’ve been easier.

“Well, what do you think?”

“You’re right. I should have told you much sooner. So this is my fault. I’m… I just didn’t expect you to tell me you love me.”

Harry folded his big palm over your hand and pulled your fingers between his, “I tried doing everything I could to make it obvious to you. I’m still wondering what you think about it, though.”

“It’s... I really like you. I haven’t thought about it too deeply, though. I didn’t want to focus on you too much because you were dating that girl and–“

“Forget about her. Took her to one movie. Went out to lunch twice. Not so much as a peck on the cheek. Would’ve flaked on our date had you told me to stay that one day. Remember that?”

You nodded and smiled, “Yeah. I do.”

“So tell me what you think. Just be honest. I can handle it. I’m a big boy, Y/n.”

You forced air through your nose, “Okay. I like you. I think it would be nice to be in a relationship with you and do this together. I’m sorry I lied to you.”

“Don’t worry about that. It’s in the past. So, you wanna be with me?”

You nodded. It all didn’t feel real. Harry was this gorgeous man, the whole package with his shit together while you were a swollen, hormonal, puffy-faced girl who had no idea what she was doing.

“Good. Now, I promise I’ll finish the crib but can I kiss you? Want to kiss you so bad.”

You sputtered out a laughed yes and rolled your eyes but Harry slid his hand to the back of your head and cut off your exasperated laugh with his mouth over yours. And all the apprehension and uncertainty, the disbelief and the worry melted away as his lips smushed against yours.

And as it was, you were already halfway there – to horny. Lately, that’s just how you were; Always at the tip of horny and tired. But when his tongue slipped into the seam of your lips your response was to push your tongue against his and place your fingers through his hair, nudging yourself closer.

You didn’t stop there, though. Your other hand found his thigh and you flexed your fingers over the dense muscle. The memory of the night you slept together came rushing back. His body was solid and broad and no matter where you touched him it lit your fingertips like flint.

He placed his hand over yours and pulled your fingers upward, “Y/n…” he breathed your name as if he needed to hear it spoken out loud again. It was desperate. Starved. The man was starved. You wondered if the last time he had sex was with you. Selfishly you hoped it was. And selfishly you hoped he’d want to fuck you again.

You felt his hand on your jaw and then his thumb press into your cheekbone, “I missed this mouth, Y/n. I need you…”

He drew his mouth down to your neck and you felt him tongue at your pulse point. A shattered moan escaped your throat when he collared one side of your neck with his big palm and continued brushing his lips on the other.

“I need you too, Harry…” The sentence drizzled into the air like a steamy mist. And then his hand was on your breasts. Your very tender and achy breasts, “Oh god!”

Harry parted from your neck, “Are you okay?”

“I’m… god I’m just…” you didn’t want to say it but you needed it. Needed him. Craved him, “Really, really turned on. It’s been like this for a bit. It’s my hormones.”

Harry pushed a laugh through his nostrils, his heavy gaze dropped to your blouse-covered breasts and then back to your eyes, “Hormones? Is there anything I can do to help with that problem?”

His question was cheeky. The edge of his lips flitted upward teasingly and you laughed, “Yeah. I think you can help.”

Harry licked his lips and pressed his nose against yours, “Tell me what I can do. What do you need?”

His breath was humid against your mouth as you reached for him with puckered lips, an attempt to just get back to it but he backed away from you, dimples carving into his cheeks, “Ah ah ah… I asked you what you needed, Y/n. What’s gonna make you feel good?” His fingers trailed down over the fabric on your blouse.

“I want to have sex. You’re the only man who’s ever made me come and I can’t stop thinking about that night.”

“Really? No one else has ever made you come before?”

You shook your head, “No one else.”

A sudden visage of something like pride and plume took over his face, “And you want that again, do you? Want me to make you come, Y/n?”

“Yes.”

Harry’s hands were gentle as he pulled you back into his arms and smeared his mouth over yours until you found yourself lying on your side facing Harry with his hands on your round belly, “This is mine? I did this to you?”

“Yep. Got me knocked up on the first try,” you splayed your hands over his as he brought them down to the stretchy hem of your blouse and bunched at the material to move it out of his way and expose your tummy.

“It’s not cute. I’m sorry,” you watched as your shirt was lifted and Harry was confronted with the sight of skin stretched tight over your belly.

Dragging his fingers over your bump and to your tits he shushed you, “So cute. The cutest. That’s my baby in there. And you’re so sexy like this.”

He sat up to his knees and helped you out of your top, revealing the thick strapped greige maternity bra that fully covered every inch of your breasts. With his eyes on yours, he reached around to your back to unhook the tiny metal clasps until your straps shimmied free.

His lips parted as he peeled the fabric away from your engorged tits, “Oh fuck, baby…” He pawed at them and softly kneaded in his palms over the flesh, “Feels okay? I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Yes. It feels so good with your hands on me.”

He moaned as his pupils roved every inch of your skin, dipping down to pull his tongue over and around your nipples only stopping to softly suck before his plush lips feathered kisses down your torso and the sides of your belly.

His fingers slid into the waistband of your pants, “Taking these off, all right?” He peered up at you.

Your chest was already heaving as if you were in the middle of being fucked and you nodded, “Okay.”

The nice thing about maternity wear was that it was easy to remove. Harry got you out of your cotton and lycra pants before you had time to feel shy about letting him see the kind of mess you’d made of your panties. Also greige like your bra.

“And clearly we need to get you out of these things too, Y/n,” he tutted as he cupped the meatiest part of your hips with his palms, “Don’t we?”

You giggled and nodded, “I know it’s a mess. I just can’t help it. The doctor said it’s normal to be like this.”

“Poor thing,” he looked down at the wet stain at the front of your panties, “Could’ve been taking such good care of you all this time.”

You felt your panties slip down your hips before cool air hit your wet pussy and you closed your eyes, “Sorry. Haven’t shaved down there or anything since… well…”

Harry’s graveled moan was accompanied by the feel of his hands on the insides of your knees as he pushed you open, “It’s beautiful.”

You opened your eyes to look down at him between your legs and his dark pupils were already on yours, “Really?”

“Really. Everything about you is so…” he smoothed his palms up the insides of your thighs from your knees and then paused, “I forgot. It’s not good for you to be on your back too long. Isn’t that right?”

You laughed and pushed yourself up by your elbows, “Yeah. That’s true. Did you read that somewhere?”

He nodded, “Not ashamed to admit I did in fact read that somewhere. So, would you like me to eat you out? And if so,” he teased his fingertips into your thighs, “What’s most comfortable for you?”

“I mean, yeah I’d like that but… truly unnecessary given the state I’m in.”

“The state you’re in? You mean pregnant?”

You chuckled, “I mean given how horny I am. I’m just saying you don’t need to prep me or anything.”

“Oh, I can see you need no prepping. It’s not so much about that as it is just making you feel good. Get comfy. I’m gonna lick your pussy.”

Another laugh fell from your chest when you heard the front door to your apartment close. Esie was home.

Harry clambered off the bed and shut your door in haste, “Fuck. I didn’t know she was coming back so soon.”

You scooted yourself back into your pillows, “We’ll just keep it quiet. But I do have one request.”

He raised a brow at you as he returned to your bed placing one knee on the pillowtop mattress with his palms down as he awaited your request.

“Can you take your shirt and pants off? I feel really… on display like this while you’re fully dressed.”

Harry grinned and pushed himself back to plant both feet onto the floor as he pulled his shirt off and then worked at his jeans, bringing them down his legs. You didn’t care that Esie was home. You needed to be fucked. You needed Harry. And the more skin and ink he revealed the more your mouth watered.

Just like 8 months before, he was an impressive sight. All tall and lean muscle (but kind of soft in some spots), inky drawings over long, well-thewed arms, and a broad torso with pecs you could bite into.

He climbed back into bed with you, quickly invading your space with the expanse of his body swathing over you like a mantle before he brought his hands to cradle your face and pressed his lips against yours.

He lowered his palms and groped at your tits, a bit rougher this time, but it only elicited a lewd mewl from your throat. Sensitive as they might be, having Harry touch you at all could only be a good thing.

“You like that, do you?” Harry spoke against your lips with a jesting tone.

You responded with a squeaky bleat to the affirmative when you felt him put pressure on your nipple, smushing it just between his thumb and middle finger.

He licked up from your bottom lip and ran his tongue over yours when you felt his fingers reaching for your other nipple.

Two loud knocks on your door startled you both, “Hey I’m home! Just letting you know!”

“Okay, thanks, Esie!” You and Harry quietly laughed as he put his palms on your knees.

“Do you think she was just telling you she was home, or reminding you to keep it down in here because she could hear us?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know. I mean… I doubt she thinks I have a guy in my bed right now. Much less it being you.”

Harry’s grin softened and he resumed from where you left off before Esie interrupted, this time his lips started at your neck. You relaxed back into the pile of pillows as you watched Harry slowly move further away until he was mouthing at your hips and peering up at you.

But then you felt his finger. It was just one but you felt it tickle at your crease. He ran it lightly along the seam of your pussy up and down before finally dredging in, parting your labia, and slicking it through your pussylips, completely wetting his finger.

Harry kissed at your mons and the curve of where your belly began to extend upward before bringing his lips back down closer to your throbbing clit but not quite there.

When he circled his finger at your slick entrance you rocked your hips, needing to feel his finger pushing inside of you. He kissed your skin at the apex of your thigh with a smacking sound and then finally thrust in, reaching through your insides and then pulled back, hooking his finger upward so it bumped into your spongy g-spot.

But the moment you felt his warm mouth kiss your clit and then tongue all around the tender and needy nub you gasped and reached down to put a hand in his hair, “Yess…”

Harry was surprised by how turned on you were. Slippery and puffy and he’d hardly touched you. But he’d read about how some pregnant women can be very horny until the end of the pregnancy. Ever since the day he learned you were pregnant, even though you told him it wasn’t his, he still learned what he could. Everything from how the body changes and what you might be going through and feeling, to nutritional needs, as well as the best sex positions (he was just a man after all). He never knew most of the things he learned and he was glad for it now that he was getting to have you again.

He wished you’d have told him, though. Wished he could have been there for you emotionally and physically… whatever you needed he’d have done it. But god it would have been so sweet to have been able to call you his girlfriend and show you off to everyone then take you home and fuck your horny little pussy every night.

No need to dwell on the past, though. He was absolutely over the moon that you finally told him and that his suspicions were correct. He was ecstatic you wanted to be with him so he’d make the most of it.

And the small squeaks and pants you were making as he fingered and sucked your clit were all good sounds. Hot. You were hot. So fucking sexy. He really loved how needy you were too. As big as your tummy was, you were grinding your hips down over his finger and lifting into him.

He couldn’t see your face from his spot but your fingers in his hair and the quiver of your thigh told him all he needed to know.

“Fuck…” you breathed out, quiet as you could, “Ohhh… shitshitshit!”

Your pussy pulsed and squeezed at his finger as you began to come. You draped your free arm over your mouth to cover up the gasps and hitched breaths as much as you could.

He’d never in his life made anyone come so fast. He had hardly gotten himself warmed up but there you were, shaking and sighing as you orgasmed into his mouth and around his finger.

When you began to close your thighs around his head and roll to your side to escape his mouth he pulled his finger from your pussy and gripped onto your hips to keep you still so you didn’t fling yourself off the bed.

He sat up and looked you over, smoothing his hands over your arms and to your tummy, “That feel good?”

You laughed and nodded, “Umm. Yeah, I’d say that felt good.”

Harry leaned down and peppered kisses to your tummy and pushed you to your side before he tucked himself behind you and pulled your back to his chest where he began to smush wet kisses to your neck, “You came so fast. You’re so sensitive, Y/n.”

“Mmmm…” you closed your eyes and then felt the bulk of his cock pressing into your backside. He was still wearing his boxer briefs. You pushed your ass back against him and heard a lusty moan vibrating over your ear.

You wanted more, unsurprisingly. Every time you masturbated lately it was two or three orgasms per go, which had never been the case before you got pregnant.

Harry rutted into you, his cock solid and aching. He hadn’t had sex with anyone since you and now he was desperate to get his cock wet. Desperate for you. No one else did it for him after you.

“Getting my underwear all wet,” he breathed his words between kisses and rocks of his hips, “You need some more, Y/n?”

Harry’s hands were cradling your tummy and rubbing at your tits as he humped against you and you nodded into your pillows, “I need more. Want you inside of me.”

Music to his ears. “Yeah? Need so much from me, don’t you? Need my baby in your womb, and my cock deep inside at the same time?”

“Fuck… yes I do…”

Harry leveraged himself up by one arm and pulled his underwear down his legs as fast as he could manage. His cock was throbbing and weeping at the tip already. He hoped he didn’t disappoint this time around because he was certain he wasn’t going to last long.

You turned to watch him and reached down behind you to wrap your fingers around his cock as he settled back onto his side. You felt the dribble of precome at his slit and spread it down his cock slowly, “I just wanna make sure… I know we slept together without a condom once but, like… I don’t know if you were sleeping with anyone else or–“

“You’re the last person I slept with. But we can–“

You moaned, cutting off the rest of his statement where he was about to suggest a condom, “Oh good. Just fuck me then.”

Angling his thick cock to your entrance you raised your hip to guide him in and with an easy thrust forward he spread your pussy apart and drove into you languidly. You both moaned in relief. You kept yourself turned to look at him as he entered you until he was pasted against your ass.

When he reared back and pushed in you laid your head down on the pillow. Every inch of him getting stuffed into you was filthy and wet sounding.

Harry kept a slow pace as he buried himself in and pulled back before thrusting into your sloppy wet hole. His balls were already squeezing as he rocked into you, “Pussy feels so good, Y/n. Fuck baby…”

You slid your fingers over your clit and buried your face into the pillow as you moaned his name. He could hear your muffled noises and he leaned back so he could see as he split you apart on his cock.

Everything was wet between your legs as he watched himself slide in and out, his cock coated in your cream already. Sloppy thrust after sloppy wet thrust. He dragged his thumb over the space of your pussy where you were gripping around him as he rolled into you, feeling the way you stretched for him.

You felt the liquidy heat of your orgasm slowly seeping through your nerves and your organs with every slick plunge of his cock. He filled up the space of your pussy just right, every stroke of him through your aching core glided against all your secret little crevices, bumping your g-spot and slithering through to your guts.

You’d done well to keep quiet as quiet as you were. You’d gotten good at quietly coming over the years of having a roommate. But Harry was testing this skill of yours.

“Wrapped around my cock like you needed it, baby. Listen to how creamy you are,” he inhaled sharply through his teeth before continuing to whisper into your ear, “All for me. Gonna make you come as many times as you want. Buy you a house where we can raise our little family together. Fuck all my babies into you…”

Harry didn’t know exactly what he was saying. He was delirious; holding back his orgasm as he felt you trembling around him. He grunted as he continued, “Gonna keep you satisfied, take care of you and our baby. Protect you…”

His words weren’t all that filthy. Not as filthy as they could have been but somehow the talk of raising a family with him and protecting you pushed you off the precipice and over the edge. You bit your lip and your whole body trembled as you hastened your fingers on your clit.

“Shit… holy shit…” Harry breathed out when he felt you coming around him and practically convulsing in his arms. You moaned as quietly as you could but his hips were slapping into your ass as he fucked you through your release.

You’d never come so hard in your life. You were sure it was because you were having actual sex with a man you’d wanted for so long all while your hormones were going haywire. Your pussy pulsed and fluttered, clenching on Harry’s cock as he squeezed his eyes closed and choked out a gasp, gluing his hips to your bum, grinding in and began to pump his come into your cunt.

He thought he could wait until you were done but you kept coming and shaking, your pussy vibrating over him like a siphon trying to milk him. He couldn’t resist, “Fuck!”

His cock throbbed violently inside of your warm channel as he emptied every drop of himself into you, holding you close as he rutted inward, dredging his cock as deep into your pussy as it could go.

He felt your hand reach over his forearm and rub as he opened his eyes and caught his breath. You were sweaty and gorgeous lying on your side all fucked out with your eyes closed and a satisfied smile on your lips. He kissed your cheek and squeezed your bum in his palm.

“I love you, Harry.” You whispered.

You’d said it back, finally. Harry leaned over to see your face, “Say it again?”

Opening your eyes you sighed and turned your head to look up at him, “I love you.”

Harry tilted your chin toward him and kissed your lips softly, “I love you, Y/n.”

It would have been bliss to have just stayed like that in Harry’s arms, with his soft pink lips dragging over your skin all night. Perhaps another round even. But there was the matter of the unfinished crib and your roommate, Esie who was about to find out about you and Harry.

“Promised you I’d finish the crib before I left,” he pecked at your cheek and sat up.

“Why don’t you stay the night?”

“You sure? That means Esie’s gonna know.” He grinned.

“I’m positive. I think it’s about time everyone knows.”

He couldn’t have agreed more.

. . .

Watching Harry holding your baby was like something out of a dream. He was standing, cradling her little head with his big palm and kissing her soft peach fuzz forehead between whispered words you couldn’t hear.

When he finally turned to set his eyes on you the look on his face was unlike anything you’d ever seen from him before. It was awe and love and overwhelm and joy all wrapped up in his eyes.

“I love her so much. And I love you. I can’t even describe–“ he blinked the tears from his eyes as his lip quivered and you reached out toward them.

“Come here. Sit with me.” You beckoned.

Harry sat next to you on the hospital bed and situated the little one into the crook of his arm between you two. You reached up and ran your fingers into his curls, “I love you, Harry. I’m so happy. Both of you make me happier than I’ve ever been. I’m glad we ended up together.”

Harry leaned in, carefully so as not to smush the precious life in his arms, and gave you a chaste kiss, “Me too, Y/n. I can’t believe how perfect she is. How amazing you are. I’m just blown away right now.”

You breathed out a laugh as you both stared down at the life you two had created. A beautiful sleeping bundle and she was all yours. All his. When her little lips stressed open and she let out the tiniest crackle of a yawn your heart felt like it was going to rupture from being so full of love.

“She’s beautiful, Harry. Look at her.”

“I know. I can’t take my eyes off her.”

You were exhausted but flying. Every kind of happy chemical; oxytocin, dopamine, serotonin, and endorphins were all flowing through your veins unencumbered. The labor was a difficult one, though. Harry’s baby was big. She came out at just under 9 lbs and you learned that Harry was a big baby as well. You cursed him a few times but after everything was said and done you couldn’t have been happier.

You fluttered your gaze from the man holding your child to the sweet little thing in his arms over and over. Your little family, all whole and healthy and happy.

“You should get something to eat, Harry. You haven’t eaten.”

He looked at you, those starry green eyes that could melt you right into your bed, “You just want to be alone with her don’t you?”

Shaking your head you laughed, “I mean that’s really not the motivation. I was just thinking about how we’re all healthy and it’s the most wonderful thing. But you haven’t eaten. I haven’t seen you eat anything since before I went into labor. It’s been like a whole day, more than a whole day, Harry. And while I scarfed down my jello and the little protein drink you were holding her and you haven’t left my side so you have to be hungry.”

“I am a little. I don’t want to leave, though. I feel like I have to be here in case anything happens…”

Cupping his cheek you shook your head, “Nothing will happen to us. The cafeteria is still open. You can get something and bring it up here. My mom won’t be back for another hour or so. Just grab a snack even. I need you healthy.”

Harry leaned into your palm and closed his eyes, “Okay.”

He placed your daughter into your arms and kissed your forehead as he gently caressed her cheek, “I’ve got the two most beautiful girls in the world. I’m the luckiest man alive.”

“I think you’re just as emotional as I am right now,” you laughed. “Now. Let me have a minute alone with my daughter while you grab a quick snack.”

“Okay, Mom. You’re the boss.”

You took his hand, “Hurry back, Dad.”

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[gremlingottoosilly]

Sleepy!reader X Slasher!Konig

You literally slept through the massacre. Konig can appreciate that. Maybe it's fresh forest air, maybe it's just your general sleepiness - but you didn't wake up even as your friends were screaming and fighting, and you didn't wake up when he was dragging you to his house. For some reason, your sleepy face was too adorable to him to just toss you away into the basement. For some reason, your lack of fighting spirit and desire to keep sleeping even through bloodshed, made him want to keep you. He has a need for some soft, sleepy pet - and you can be his little housecat. Life with Konig is surprisingly nice. You have a heavy collar on your neck, of course, and your legs are bound by a rather short chain and handcuffs, so you can't walk as fast as you want to - but otherwise, he even allows you to go outside. Taking naps on the fresh grass and allowing your murder boyfriend to drag you home afterward - he just wants you to sleep in a nice environment instead of the cold ground. Sometimes, he allows you to sleep outside - if the weather is nice, he would just clip your leash to the metallic post in front of his house and throw a blanket over your sleepy head. The forest is too deep to care about your screams, and you're too sleepy to even try to scream. He usually drops you off to sit on a small mattress in the corner of the basement while he is taking care of other victims. Sometimes, he would make. them be quiet so that they would to make you suffer just a tiny bit and deprive you of the sweet sleep you craved so much. Makes you sit in the corner like a good girl and watch fates of those who were not as lucky as you are - despite your screams and begs of him to stop. God, you're fucking adorable - he has to have you. Pushing your legs apart as you're too sleepy to resist and listening to your choked moans as he fucks you right on that thin mattress in the basement. He is a merciful boyfriend and allows you to softly sob and moan into the pillow he brought for you - and he will clean you up after, maybe even taking you upstairs and getting in bed with you for a few minutes until you're fast asleep after a good fuck. Life is good when you're his victim - at least he finally allows you to have a girl nap for 12 hours like you always wanted to.

[tame-the-lion-writes]

feral omega reader x konig

Yes, yes, feral omega reader x 141 is adorable and wholesome and riddled with chaos, but imagine if she ever met Konig. I can't explain a situation in which 141 and KorTac would ever be close enough to share a base because I have no idea how the military and merc companies work BUT-- imagine it. Imagine feral reader being an absolutely darling with Konig just because.

Now feral reader is hostile with pretty much everyone. We've established that. Someone looks at her wrong? It's on sight. No questions asked. 141 practically keeps her on a leash, or at least has to wrestle her into their arms so she doesn't tear someone's ear off. So when Konig appears, and he even towers over Ghost, they're just really fucking confused as to why she's suddenly all big doe eyes and quiet curiosity.

Unlike Soap or Kyle, Konig doesn't seem like he's actively trying to befriend her. And unlike Price or Ghost, he doesn't invade her space so she gets used to his presence. He kinda just exists, and for some unknown reason, that's enough? Like what the hecc?? What was 141 doing wrong???

Because you're slinking over to Konig to steal his food, or pressing your full weight onto his shoulders so you can stare at the book he's reading. Nuzzling your way into his mask so it's stained with your scent, and you're stained with his in return. One time, they even catch you sitting pretty in his lap like an obedient little kitty. And Konig's just petting you, scratching the top of your head like it's a casual Tuesday morning. Like you didn't just try to poke out someone's eye just minutes before.

Soap and Kyle have taken it upon themselves to spy on you two, because you're pack, and he isn't. Because you're theirs, not his. Ghost tries to act nonchalant about it, but he's equally disgruntled--just in a quieter, subtler way. And by subtle, I mean being the one to pick you up by the waist out of Konig's lap, haul you over his shoulder, and say it's time to take a nap.

Price is the only one who actually asks Konig anything, though. So he learns pretty much right away how you've managed to become so tame.

"Slow blink," Konig answers, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

"Slow blink?"

"Ja. I make friend with stray cat. Kätzchen is same. Slow blink."

_

Bonus Thoughts:

Konig brings over a few cats one day to show 'em how it's done. Crouches down, slow blinks at the cats, slow blinks at you. And now you're the one slow blinking at the cats. So now you have fur babies! (One for each of your alphas!) And you will fight Laswell if she tells you that you can't keep them.

Once Konig has to leave, though, you're a fucking mess. Crying, sobbing, clinging to his arm while Soap is trying--and failing--to hold you back.

"Bonnie, please! Let! Go!"

DISTRESSED YOWLING INTENSIFIES.

[misaamoure]

“Zayneeee oh my god!” You cried out as his thick cock repeatedly slammed into your g spot.

The pleasure was almost incomprehensible as he fucked into you from the back, his hips colliding with the flesh of your plump ass, your glasses practically jumping up and down from the force.

What had started as an innocent trip to Zayne’s office to deliver him a dessert you picked out that you thought he’d particularly like quickly turned into something much filthier.

It was record breakingly hot outside, and you had dressed accordingly.

A powder blue, backless, spaghetti strapped mini dress. A tight one at that, that emphasized your curves.

Upon seeing you in such a garment, in his favorite color no less, Zayne had a rare moment of spontaneity.

You should’ve known something was up when he stretched your greeting kiss out longer than your usual peck.

You seem to always end up in these situations; at the mercy of the pleasure he gave.

Upon fucking your thighs and making you cum once from the delicious friction on your clit, he wasted no time bending you over the desk.

The desk creaked under the movement of both of you.

“Please you need to be… quiet…” Zayne was struggling to be quiet himself.

You were so warm and tight inside, he was losing his fucking mind.

Especially since he waited years to have you again.

Zayne stopped thrusting for a moment, making you whine at the loss of such a mind numbing feeling.

“Why’d you stop?” You peered back at him, looking over your glasses that had been knocked lower on your nose, a sight he simply adored.

He simply couldn’t help but tease you.

Zayne chuckled lightly before grabbing both your wrists and pinning them to your sides.

“Wha-” You were cut off by Zayne grinding his dick into your walls.

It felt like he was in your guts.

You practically screamed before muffling yourself by biting your bottom lip.

“Do you want it?”

“Yes, Zayne, please!” You barely managed to get out before he sped up.

“Fuck back on me. Show me how you want it, (Y/N).”

You tightened around his dick at his words. He was so filthy sometimes.

Who knew Dr. Zayne got down like this?

You whined before doing exactly as he said. You could probably fuck better than him anyways.

He kept your arms pinned at your sides, which made the position all the more tantalizing.

“Hurry,” He breathed out with a groan. “I have an, mmph, 4 o’clock soon.”

Though he smothered his own sounds and barely showed it outwardly, Zayne was feeling it as much as you.

The sight of your disheveled hair and flustered face nearly made him cum right then and there.

He was simply that attracted to you.

He was significantly louder now, enjoying the feeling of you throwing it back on him plus the visual stimulation.

“Yes, just like that,” He threw his head back, letting go of your wrists and instead opting to grab your hips. “That’s so good.”

“Fuck…” You moaned as you sped up. His praise was pushing your further to your orgasm as you angled your thrusts to hit your g spot every time.

“Zayne… gonna cum… I can’t take it anymore…” You once again barely managed to get your words out through the gasps and moans.

This pushed Zayne over the edge that he was barely holding on to.

He completely pulled out before grabbing you by the neck and pulling you upwards, making you gasp.

“I’m sorry.” He gave gave you a short kiss before letting go of your neck.

He didn’t even give you enough time to wonder what for before covering your mouth with his palm and slamming back in to you.

The force of this motion knocking your glasses off your face and onto his desk.

Your screams and moans were muffled as he pounded into you fast, hard, and deep.

He had literally never fucked you like this before, it was like he hated you.

The sheer pleasure of how good he was fucking you made tears run down your face, ruining your mascara.

Your sobs were also muffled into his palm.

Zayne was right in your ear; huffing and moaning louder than he ever has before.

“Inside,” he gasps. “You want it inside?”

You nodded frantically, shouting muffled “yes’s” into his palm.

His thrusts got sloppier as you tightened around him, both your orgasms impending.

His breathing got heavier before he reached down and pinched your clit as he came deep inside you, making you squirt all of his cock.

“Fuckkkk (Y/N).”

You had never heard him gasp and pant like this.

And you’d never felt this level of pleasure before.

You came hard as he slowly fucked into you, riding out your orgasms.

You both relaxed your tensed muscles as your orgasms ended, and Zayne took his palm off your mouth to give you a deep searing kiss.

He pulled away, wiping away some of your mascara riddled tears.

“Thank you for the dessert.”

[eccentricwritingbaby]

baby finn series, the necessary reactions

series masterlist

lando norris x mom!wife!reader

summary - y/n is pregnant again, time to tell the world - well, their whole world. 

masterlist

-

“then what is it?” lando cups your chin in his hands with his question, forcing you to meet his eyes.

“it’s just that,” you sigh, searching lando’s eyes, “we don’t need to keep trying, if there’s already a baby on the way,”

“you’re joking,” lando whispers, his eyes beginning to well with tears, “love, are you serious?” you nod wordlessly, your smiling catching from ear to ear as lando’s begins to grow, “oh my GOD!” he exclaims, not caring anymore about the young boy sleeping down the hall. he’s currently too busy grabbing your waist in his hands and spinning you around in giggling circles. 

“lan, please,” you choke out between your laughs, “you’ll turn our baby into a milkshake,” you continue to giggle as lando sets you down with quiet apologies in between a multitude of kisses. the room falls silent for a moment as lando pulls away and his hands migrate to your stomach, both of you staring into each others eyes as if they were the stars in the sky. 

“we’re having another baby,” lando’s smile has not faltered since your admission, and neither has yours.

“ya, lan. we’re having another baby,” you smile wider as happy tears start their race down your cheeks. lando joins in shortly with happy sobs as he pulls you into his arms, calmly rocking you both back and forth in place. you hear the quiet words mumbled into your neck of ‘i can’t believe this is happening’ and ‘i’m so fucking happy right now’ as you just hold onto your husband in joy. 

finally pulling apart, lando drops down to a knee, staring at your bare stomach in awe, “hi baby norris,” he chokes down another sob as he kisses the baby’s home, “it’s your daddy,” you hold his head in your hands while trying to control your own tears, enjoying the interaction at its fullest. 

your husband looks up at you and all you read in his eyes is pure admiration and love. he catches your eyes staring down at him, seeing only love and admiration as well. you both share the soft moment in quiet comfort, proceeding to not leave each other's sides as you ready yourselves for bed. 

getting yourself under the blankets in bed, you scoot over into lando’s awaiting arms, him immediately wrapping you into his hold. his free hand falls to your stomach like a magnet - just as it always did with finn. you roll the slightest in order to have a better view of your husband, reaching a hand up to caress his cheek, both of you not breaking the adoring eye contact. he leans down a pinch, kissing your nose, then cheeks, then forehead, and finally landing on your lips. you hum in approval before he separates, proceeding to lean down to your stomach and repeat the kisses.

his head lays on the top of your stomach, your hands raking through his curls, as he continues to speak sweet nothings to the growing baby inside your tummy. you then soon fall into a conversation about when and how you found out - your bad takeout was not actually bad, and the doctor's appointment was yesterday, how far along you were - seven weeks, only - and when your next appointment was - two weeks from today, your first ultrasound. 

you were lulled to sleep by lando’s continuing conversation to your unborn child and his soft stroking over your belly.

-

you wake up the next morning to an empty bed and distant baby giggles echoing through your home. stretching for a moment, you take a deep breath - debating needing a morning sickness session or not - before you reluctantly climb out from your warm haven of blankets. reaching quickly for one of lando’s hoodies tossed around, you pull it over your head to substitute for the lost heat. 

“momma!” you hear the happy squeaks of your son as you open the door from your bedroom, light padding of his feet making their way over to you. entering into the living room, you’re immediately met with a bouncy three year old at your feet, arms up and ready for his morning cuddles. swinging him onto your hip with whispered ��good morning, my love’ and a kiss to his sweet head, you waltz over to your husband seated on the couch. 

“i made breakfast, you hungry, love?” lando asks as you take a seat next to him. 

“not right now, but probably soon,” you respond, leaning over to greet your husband with a kiss. 

“alright, but you need to eat,” his over-protective nature residing again, something you had your ups and downs with while pregnant with finn.

“i know, love. i will,” you assure your husband with another light peck to his lips. he smiles back down at you, on too much of a high to even pester you as of this moment. 

“we have the quadrant video today, too,” 

“oh, right,” you shake your head, “what time is that again?”

“around three, so we have a lot of time,” lando proceeds to direct his attention to his son, “are you so excited to come with us, finn? uncle max will be there!”

“uncle max!” your son claps happily from your lap, excited at the mention of his other favorite uncle. 

“yes, buddy! uncle max wants to see you!” lando claps with his son, “why don’t you go pick out what you want to wear today, bubs?” your husband picks your son off your lap to help him down, giving him the availability to run to his room.

“otay, daddy!” with that, finn takes his little legs at full speed to his bedroom, amusing giggles radiating through the home. your husband turns his attention back to you after his son was out of sight, pulling you closer into his body.

“i was hoping we could tell the team today, if that’s alright with you?” lando asks you quietly, hinting at the reveal of your pregnancy. last night when you had told lando, both of your parents had been rung immediately. doing it over the phone wasn’t ideal but the parents staying in england as you and lando were in monaco wasn’t ideal either. and you both wanted to tell them right away. 

“well i know we agreed to tell our parents first, but i feel like we should tell finn second, no?” 

“should we tell him today before the group? or do you want to wait?”

“i don’t know, lan. i truly haven’t given it much thought and i want to. telling your only baby that another one is coming can disrupt a lot, i don’t want to rush it,” you hang your head a bit at your worries and lando understands immediately. 

“it’s alright, we can tell the lads later,” he’s quick to respond in order to ease your mind.

“how about just max?” you offer as a compromise. even though finn was beyond fond of carlos, max fewtrell had been the rock for him as he was growing in your tummy up to now and for sure in the future. he was almost his second father. and he was lando’s best friend. and finn adored max just as you know your second baby will as well, “i can tell my best friend today and you can tell yours, then we’ll talk a bit more about how we tell finn,”

“i like the sound of that, love,” your husband kisses your forehead, “we’ll tell max and y/b/f/n today, and then everyone else will find out after finn,”

“yes, lovely. i like the sound of that, lan,”

-

pulling up to the track where lando’s quadrant video would be filmed, you let out a nervous sigh, hand involuntarily reaching for your stomach. your husband reaches across the console in the car, removing your hand and instead intertwining your fingers. a kiss to the back of your hand was all the reassurance you needed in that moment. 

parked in the lot, lando steps out of the vehicle, racing around the front of the car and opening the door for you, holding onto your hand as you step out as well. leading you both towards your giggly son in the backseat, your husband unstraps his seat belts, lifts him out of the car and pulls on his hand due to finn’s persistence to walk - like a big boy. the little family makes their way through a few gates and security checks before finally arriving near the rest of the quadrant group. 

“there’s the best godson in the world!” max lets out a squeal, bending down as finn sprints into his arms. 

“uncle maxxxx!” finn yells in his arms, laughing along to max proceeding to pick him up and spin him around. 

“hey!” your best friend comes out from behind you and lando to join the group, “does your godmother get any love?” she laughs heading over to max and finn.

“aunty y/b/f/n!” finn screams from max’s hold, wiggling to make his way towards your friend, “i dind’t know you come!” he squeaks out.

“your mommy called me! said you missed me, baby,” she laughs scooping your son up from max.

“i did! i miss you all!” finn’s arms wrap around her tightly as the entire quadrant group ‘awe’s’ at his words. 

“actually, finn, why don’t you go join niran and ria,” lando starts, reaching for your hand to hint at his intentions, “momma and daddy have to talk to max and y/b/f/n really fast, okay?”

“otay, daddy! but i see them later?”

“oh ya, bubs,” your husband nods as he helps his son down towards the group, “we have the rest of the day to hang out, this will just take a second, okay?”

“otay, daddy!” finn replies to lando’s direction, running off towards niran and ria, leaving the four of you alone in a distant part of the track.  

“uh oh,” max lets out, “are we in trouble?” 

“not at all,” you laugh in response, “quite the opposite really, we have some exciting news to share with the both of you,” tightening your grip on lando’s hand, you give him an approval nod to let go of the information.

“y/n’s pregnant!”

“WHAT!”

“OH MY GOSH!” your best friend takes a step towards you, holding you in her arms as she jumps a bit in excitement. max and lando are hugging, congratulations are shared as the pairs switch to the other respective partner. both max and y/b/f/n are tearing up, as you and your husband are trying hard not to do the same. 

“i think we’re going to tell finn tonight, so just keep it quiet,” your husband shares, max mocks his reprimand by zipping his lips shut as your best friend just continues to nod in excitement.

“and even after we tell finn, i think we’re just going to keep it quiet until i start to show, so let’s not tell anyone, alright?” you offer your worries next. 

“you’ve got it guys,” max nods, “we’ll keep it a secret,”

“i mean, we did pretty good with the last one,” your best friend laughs off in her agreement. 

-

after the long and exhausting day on the track, lando is hauling your son’s body up the stairs in his arms, the deadweight not budging once arriving inside your home. your husband carefully places him on the couch in the living room as you make your way into the kitchen in order to find something, anything to eat. a loud sigh behind you causes you to turn your head in it’s direction, coming face to face with your husband. 

“i don’t think it’s happening today,” 

“you mean telling finn, lan?”

“ya, he’s wiped out,”

“why are you so eager to tell him?” lando thinks for a moment at your question, reaching around you to the counter, popping a grape into his mouth. 

“i’m just excited, y/n,” he finally lets slip, “i want to buy things for the nursery, i want to buy baby clothes, i want to talk to little baby norris, i want to hear finn talk about how exciting this will be, i want to-”

“okay, lan,” you cut him off, moving to steal a kiss from his lips, “bright and early tomorrow, finn will know about little baby norris,”

“good,” he sighs in relief, kissing you again. 

-

the blinding light of the sun proceeds to have you blinking open your eyes, facing your husband who was leaning against the headboard, scrolling on his phone. 

“you’re finally awake, love,” he whispers towards you, a hand coming across your cheek to swipe the sleep from your eyes. they close for a brief moment to bask in the softness before shooting open as you scramble out of bed to race to the bathroom. several knocks at the door, your persistence to keep lando away from you, and then finally a flushed toilet and mouthwash rinsed out lead you to leaving the bathroom, eyes widening at the scene. 

lando is still leaning against the headboard, this time with his little mini me leaning against him as well. the tv is turned on to lando’s favorite show with a soft volume as your son is still fighting sleep on his fathers lap and a bottle of milk slowly slipping from his grasp. 

“y’alright, love?” your husband speaks softly as to not alarm the baby on his lap, you nodding in return, climbing back into the bed to be with your family. 

“why sick, mommy?” your son asks, sleepy gaze holding a bit of concern. 

“well, finn,” you sigh, reaching for your husband’s hand as you both look down at your son on his lap, “there is a baby growing in my tummy, and sometimes it’ll make me sick,”

“baby?” finn questions, looking up at his parents with curiosity. 

“ya, bubs,” lando laughs a bit, “you’re going to be a big brother! isn’t that exciting?”

“bwother…” finn sighs quietly, almost as if he’s testing the word to see if it feels correct rolling off his tongue. 

“aren’t you happy, baby?” you urge softly, eyeing your son, attempting to read his reaction. 

“will baby like me?” finn asks, his attention turning from you to lando.

“oh, bubs,” lando sigh, holding his son tightly as he responds, “the baby is going to love you,” he finishes off with a kiss to his head. finn finally smiles and giggles, climbing from lando’s lap over to yours, bending down to kiss your stomach.

“i wuv you, baby,” he giggles after the kiss, “i meet you soon!”

yours and your husband’s eyes meet as your son keeps kissing your belly, the non-verbal understanding that everything would be okay. 

[fastandcarlos]

Sleepless Nights : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: as your daughter cries out yet again, you can't help but feel like the problem, especially when max swoops in and saves the day again

A frustrated sigh escaped as what felt like for the thousandth time that night you heard cries coming from across your home. Beside you, Max turned onto his back, meeting your eyes as he offered a sympathetic smile, feeling exactly how you felt, exhausted and on the verge of tears. 

You’d been up and down for most of the night, unable to quite settle your daughter. With Max only home for a few days before the track called again, you’d decided to take on most of the night jobs to try and let him get some rest. 

However, as you sat up and went to leave the bed again, two hands on your shoulders pulled you straight back down. “It’s my turn, you’ve done more than enough tonight,” Max whispered, sitting himself up instead. 

“She’s never been this bad before,” you hummed, allowing yourself to settle back down. 

Max stood up and stretched, momentarily looking back at you. “I’ll go and see if maybe a change of face will do the trick,” Max suggested, keeping his footsteps quiet as he left your bedroom, shutting the door behind him to try and not disturb you. 

As much as you knew Max needed to rest, you couldn’t help but feel thankful that he had got up this time. Your tank was empty and your frustrations were growing. Of course, you adored your daughter, but she sure knew how to give you a restless night of sleep. 

“What’s wrong baby girl?” Max whispered as he walked into your daughter’s room, peering over her cot and reaching in, scooping her up and pressing her against his bare chest.  

Max walked around the room with your daughter for a few moments, rocking her gently as her sobs began to quieten down. His eyes didn’t leave her, studying her closely with a smile on his face, walking out of the room and into your bedroom once she was quiet again. 

“I think someone might be feeling a little bit needy tonight,” Max laughed as he took a seat beside you on the bed, keeping your daughter in his hold as you shuffled to face them both. 

As you sat up, Max reached across with your daughter, offering her into your hold. As you took her though, the volume went straight back up, making you immediately flinch back and give your daughter back to Max again.  

“Love,” Max whispered as your eyes went wide, guilt filling you up. Your hands brushed through your hair as you watched her go quiet again once Max had her. “Maybe she just wants her daddy tonight.” 

Max knew you like a book, he could tell exactly what was going through your mind. It almost felt as if you were the problem, the one that kept your daughter crying because she didn’t want you, she wanted Max. He seemed to be the one that solved your daughter’s problems, whilst you just seemed to make things worse. 

And as your daughter went quiet again, it felt like the weight of the world was coming down on you. “Don’t think like that,” a voice spoke, breaking you from your thoughts, with Max knowing exactly what was going through your head. 

You smiled softly across at him, wishing it was just that easy. Motherhood was hard, but raising your baby was harder than you ever thought it would be, especially as so much of it you were having to do all alone. 

“I can’t seem to do the right thing,” you whispered, burying your head into your hands, “I’m trying to do everything I can to make her happy but it’s like I’m the problem, the reason that she’s crying so often.” 

Max sighed as you spoke, with your daughter in one arm, his other wrapped around your shoulders. He hated how hard you were being on yourself, even if you didn’t see all the good that you were doing, he absolutely did. 

“I thought having a baby was supposed to be a dream,” you admitted. 

Everyone had told you how amazing having a baby was, but for you, it felt like the opposite. Watching Max come in and save the day again and again was lovely, but at the same time, it felt like a knife in the back for you, as if to show you all the things you were doing wrong. 

Max’s hand moved up and brushed over the top of your head as he heard faint sobs coming from beside him. “What am I supposed to do when you go back to race next week? Do I just sit here and let her cry night after night?” 

“No, because that’s not what you do,” Max assured you, “you’re an amazing mum.” 

“It doesn’t feel that way, it feels like I’m messing up constantly,” you confessed, your voice a faint whisper. 

It killed Max to listen to you to hear how hard you were being on yourself. He was beyond proud of all that you were doing, if anything, he wished that he could do more instead of having to leave you and go to work all the time.  

“Love, listen to me, please,” Max asked you. “These things take time, it’s all about routine and we’re all still learning about each other. I promise that it’s going to get easier, the first few weeks are always the hardest.” 

“Do you really think we’ll get there?” You nervously asked, looking up and across at Max. “You think we’ll get through this?” 

“Absolutely,” he insisted with a smile. “I’m struggling too, I’ve never raised a baby before and I mess up too, I just do a better job of hiding it so that you don’t see,” Max joked. 

“You make mistakes?” You queried, surprised by Max’s sudden confession. “You always just seem to have everything under control, I’m in awe of you most of the time.” 

Rather than reply, Max held your daughter out to you again. Your hands nervously held out as she placed her down, a smile gracing your face as Max let go and the room remained silent, exactly what you had been hoping for. 

“There you go,” Max proudly grinned, nudging against your side. “You’ve got to stop being so hard on yourself, you’re doing the most amazing job.” 

Your smile softened as you glanced down at your daughter, relieved to see her settle in your hold. Max was right, you had placed a lot of pressure on yourself, perhaps a little too much. You knew with time you would figure things out, you just needed to be more confident that you could achieve it. 

Max’s eyes remained on you both, feeling his heart swell with pride. “When you feel like you’re struggling I want you to talk to me love, even if I might be thousands of miles away on the other side of the world.” 

You hummed as Max spoke, silently promising that you wouldn’t bottle things up like you had been doing, refusing to suffer in silence any longer. 

“Every day is going to be different, some days it will go well, others it won’t, but that’s all part of the fun of raising a family,” Max reminded you, “I’m not going to let you sit back and feel like you’re not doing enough, because you are.” 

“How did I get so lucky to have you?” You quizzed. 

Max chuckled in reply to you, “you didn’t get lucky with me, I’m the one who got lucky with you. We’re a team, that’s what’s always made us so successful.” 

“I know, but you always just happen to know the right thing to say.” 

“And so do you, that’s why I love you so much,” Max reminded you, “it’s why you’re my best friend.” 

“I love you so much too.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[cntloup]

a relationship with simon would be mellow and quiet.

of course it would have its own turbulences, but for the most part it's silent.

there are no big gestures or loud words, but soft murmurs and tender touches.

he's always got a protective hand on you when you're out and about, not out of toxic jealousy or anything like that. he's too mature for that. he's confident and he trusts you.

he does it to keep you safe, so no creep would even dare throw a wrong glance at you, let alone get too close or touchy and make you uncomfortable.

it also comes from the need to feel you at all times. he needs to make sure you’re still there and you haven't vanished from his life, turned to dust like all the good things have in his life.

he always keeps an eye on you especially outside when you're going about your business, perusing around different shops at the mall.

it comes from his protectiveness, also from his flaming love for you that engulfs his heart. he simply can't take his eyes off you, his gaze softened and adoring as he looks at you being happy and giggly when you find something that you like.

he always keeps you safe in a quiet way, but you feel it. you always feel safe in his presence.

all his love and devotion seep through his actions, even the littlest ones.

he makes sure you’re always stocked up on all your favorite food, beauty products etc. and always is there to keep you from hurting yourself clumsily. all in all, he always tries his best to make your life easier.

he quietly shuffles under the blanket when he returns late at night and whispers 'i love you' before kissing the crown of your head and pulling your body closer to his, fully flushed against him. and he sighs in relief, he's home.

now don't get me wrong when i say mellow and quiet. it can still be intense at times.

especially the ugly parts that you both try to avoid, but can't help as it seeps through the corners of your relationship anyway.

he needs his space when he returns home from a deployment. and you've learned that the hard way.

he's lashed out at you from time to time. even though he had fought hard with himself to keep that side away from you.

and a heavy silence settles in the room after the shouting and occasionally throwing stuff have taken place.

not the comfortable silence you're used to when you're together, but a thick, suffocating atmosphere.

he starts cursing and grappling with himself after slamming the door to his office shut.

and you curl into yourself on the couch while uncontrollable sobs escape you and you feel paralyzed by his venom.

that's exactly what he was trying to avoid all along, all throughout your relationship. he tried so hard to keep that part of himself away from you, from poisoning you as he interprets in his mind, but to no avail. the demons won. and he can never forgive himself for letting them.

but that's where he was wrong. you tried to convince him that he doesn't need to hide any part of him from you. you love him and you love him entirely, all of him.

even though he still needs his alone time as everyone does, he tries to open up more and talk to you about what haunts him instead of bottling it up to the point of explosion and taking it out on you.

and you've encouraged him to attend therapy again and promised him that you will be there every step of the way with absolutely anything he needs. and of course he accepts. for you and himself. for his family.

[pseudowho]

The Silent Stars Go By

On the night of October 31st, Nanami Kento feels his death approaching. Knowing you are on the battlefield with him, and knowing he cannot die without showing you how he feels, he seeks you out...and subverts destiny.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, "last night on Earth" smut, truly desperate, frantic, semi-public, Shibuya ending rewrite

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Nanami Kento knew he was to die, on October 31st.

He was no arithmancer. A pragmatist at heart with a mathematical streak, he had, however, carried his barely living friend to safety, found the bodies of many others, punched a young man to death, and lived to tell the tale. The numbers divined great danger ahead, and, by the time a pink-feathered songbird had sung the perish song of Satoru Gojo, Kento could not deny the maths.

Kento could suddenly see no distant future for himself, as he once could. And yet between then, and now, there was one stark similarity; what future Nanami Kento did see, contained only you.

Behind his eyes flashed a montage of memory-- of midnight laughter-filled dinners at the Konbi. Of shielding you in battle, and you shielding him in return. Of you sitting on his lap, stitching his wounds with utmost care, before your reverse-cursed technique had fully developed. Of falling in love with you, and denying himself joy for believing he may give you none.

Being around you was agony. Being away from you was worse.

"I'll be heading underground," he had intoned to Nitta and Nobara, taking in their girlish features for the last time with a stab through his belly, "after I catch up with someone. Stay safe. Don't sacrifice yourself."

He was a hypocrite. He knew this. He would walk to the gallows, proud, if only he could take you in his arms and cry his love for you, first.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Looking out over the city, having heard Yuuji's cries for 'Nanamin' only a few minutes earlier, you did not know you were being desperately searched for by Kento. You had determined yourself to find and follow Yuuji, the boy without protection.

The night breeze whipped at you, unhindered by walls and trees, on the roof of one of Shibuya's tallest buildings. Turning to leave, you felt a familiar warmth approaching. The man you loved opened the stairwell door, squeaking on its pivot.

Missing his suit jacket and tie, with his sleeves rolled up, he thrummed with raw, uncontained power. Something feverish stormed within his eyes as he looked to you. His steps were slow, and considered. The quiet calm of his voice was deliberate, soft.

"Kento, what...what are you doing here? Is that blood? Oh god, you're bleeding-- let me heal you--"

"Stop. It isn't mine. Just listen for a moment."

"Isn't yours? Then one of the others? We should get them to Shoko--"

"--I need you to listen, now--"

"--we haven't got any time--"

"I love you." The air fell still; a puff of blossom in suspended animation. You had not realised you were holding your breath until Kento's steps caught up to you, and his hands grasped yours. A melancholic certainty rolled off him. Flicks of blond fell over his forehead, that fervour still gripping him; gripping you.

"I love you. You are the purest truth I know. The warmest light. Anything I am, and anything I could have been, is at your mercy, and always has been."

The gut-churning adrenaline you had felt for the fever-pitch of battle was suppressible, before Kento's impassioned promise. That dam broke inside you, and the terror and adoration and injustice heaved out of you in one great sob. You needed his body flush to yours. Public decency took a back seat. So many years of restraint and doubt slid away.

You looped your arms around Kento's neck, one hand grasping his shoulders, and the other sinking into the back of his hair. Kento almost broke, himself, but couldn't; not yet. He had to show you. Needed to show you.

You felt him pull your head away from his shoulder, and you resisted, until his fingers tangled in your hair, angling your head. You were nose to nose. You could feel his heart booming in his chest, fresh from a fight you had not witnessed.

"If this is my last chance," Kento whispered, his nose stroking yours, "will you let me take it?"

"...what...what do you know...that I don't? Kento--"

"Please." Kento growled, his teeth gritted. You felt the twitching contractions of his belly, his hardening cock pressing against you. You couldn't resist his need to control this, and take what he needed, even if you wanted to. Your breaths ached in your chest. Silent, glossy-eyed, you nodded.

Kento broke, possessing your lips in one shuddering kiss. His hands and body squeezed at your softly yielding hips, all-consuming, trying to overfill himself with any scrap of you he could take. He dominated the kiss completely, selflessly, as thoughtlessly altruistic as he had always been. He groaned, panting through the taste of you, his tongue sliding against yours. His cock wept inside his boxers-- it was all too much too much but not enough--

You mewled, little hands gripping onto his collar, sending thunder to Kento's core. Kento pulled away, cursing, feeling the need to know the scars that pleasure etched upon your skin. You were scorched by his touch, too pliable now to do anything but bend to his insistence.

In blood and brutality you sought each other, beacons in the night with stars as your witness. They looked on, disinterested, as if fate held any regard for the lives of mortals, over gods.

With time as his final remaining enemy, Kento pulled you to his lap, sitting with his back against the low wall overlooking the city. He knew for whom the bell tolled. He would see his duty done before the final chime, and he stared into you in your entirety. Though neither a painting nor an ivory box, he handled you with kid gloves.

You straddled his lap, unbuttoning his shirt, and he whispered, groaning and bucking up against your clothed sex as he watched your nimble fingers press his opened shirt apart. Running your hands in reverence down his bared chest and belly, he could not have loved you more than when he saw his own desperation reflected back at him.

In another life-- in any other world-- I--

He lifted you, enough for you to kick your jeans and underwear off, his teeth bared to feel your core press against his aching cock. He spoke through your kisses, a fractured sentence punctuated by his apologies.

"I didn't-- didn't prepare-- no protection-- I can't-- can't stop-- please don't make me stop." He begged, reaching down to hook his cock out. You silenced him with one hand wrapped around his rigid length, and Kento stilled with a hiss.

--take you to dinner first, I'd show you the world-- fill you with its beauty before I fill you with mine--

"Don't care--" You insisted against his neck, "--don't care...need to feel you." Kento almost sobbed with relief to feel you hold him, stroking the head of his cock between your glistening folds. You let his cockhead and slit catch over your clit, shivering, intoxicated by the way he watched you with one hand splayed across your belly, the other on your hip, and blown pupils. He bucked his hips, needy, full of baleful possession.

--and we'd have a Victorian glasshouse with a garden you'd love-- and you'd plant wildflowers while I do the laundry--

Grasping your hips with a snarl as you stroked his cockhead down, Kento impaled you downwards onto him, the moment his cock notched at your entrance. You squeaked, pussy clenching with the sudden blissful invasion, your squirming making you sink lower. Kento felt a telltale throb of impending orgasm in his belly, and he was certain if you clenched one more time--

Your pussy full to the brim, you instinctively bucked downwards. Feeling Kento belly-deep, his trembling fingers dropped to your clit, and you felt Kento's abs twitching beneath your splayed hands. Feeling two clever fingers bracketing your clit and rolling from side to side, you squeezed him, milking his cock and locking him inside you.

--all the late nights and early mornings and train rides and arguments in sickness and health for richer for poorer--

"--love you-- I love you too." You sobbed into his chest, loose and warm against him. Kento saw stars, coming with a shout, thick ropes of cum spurting into you. Looking up at the euphoric agony on his face, and his fingertips bruising your ass as they pinned you down around him, satisfied you spiritually, in a way so alien to you.

You rolled your hips, drinking down every part of him. The long, powerful contractions of his cock inside you, his stilted low moans, his gasps of pleasure as your tight gloved heat continued to stroke him. Starved for him, desperate for more, you rode Kento to frantic overstimulation.

--so unfair this is so unfair, die for you like you'd die for me like I'd die for you like you'd die for me--

You realised with a happy squirm that he hadn't yet removed his glasses or harness. With his shirt trapped against his shoulders, and his lens steamed, fucking upwards and thrashing his head from side to side beneath you, you couldn't stop yourself. You felt the fullness of his creamy load still plugged deeply inside you, and pushed hard against him. Kento cursed, paralyzing you with a hushed roar of agony, and a hand grasping your throat.

"--asked you to make love to me-- not kill me-- but shit, if this is how we go, just take me with you-- take me with you--"

His fingers had never left your clit, now rolling it insistently, until you were the one wriggling and desperate. Still being stuffed with his cock and cum made your pleasure three-dimensional, and Kento's half-hard length began to stir to life again, still high off the adrenaline of punching a man to death. He growled at you with gritted teeth.

"--beautiful...good girl...not done with you yet...shit, keep it in, keep it all in...take me with you...please--"

With half lidded eyes, you grasped Kento's forearm. His hand still braced you with exquisite tenderness around the throat, a necklace instead of a noose. His second hand worked frantically against your clit while you moaned and begged above him, still speared on his cock, feeling him lengthen and thicken again inside you. You whimpered and keened, and Kento committed you to memory, just like this. He would close his eyes in his final moment, and see you, breaking like spun sugar above him, no sweeter sound than his name on your lips.

--bake for you on Sundays, and the bread would always burn, because we'll be too busy--

Kento continued stroking you, pressing kisses onto your forehead as he guided you down from your high. Cautiously starting to roll his hips up again, he moaned at the slick sucks of his cock sliding through his cum and yours. Unthreading his shirt through his harness, Kento threw it to the ground, before lying you down on top of it.

Otherwise fully dressed, with dried stains of blood rusted over his chest and back, Kento bore over you like a vengeful god. Here to take his spoils, he still handled you like glass, resting your head on one of his planted forearms, with a hand under the small of your back to protect you from the floor.

"...I've wanted you for so long-- you don't even know--"

"I knew." Kento faltered. His anguish at leaving you for certain death sharpened, with the sudden knowledge of past chances untaken. His heart clenched, aching down his arms, steeling himself. He couldn't help but lean into your hand, cupping his jaw.

Nuzzling his nose to yours, Kento melted at your smile twinkling up at him. He smiled back, suddenly bashful, lopsided with crinkling eyes, before biting down on one lip and slamming his cock down into you. Your gasp shook through you, clawing into the harness across his chest and shoulders, hearing Kento swear with pleasure at the intensity of a second round.

Kento barely pulled out, wrapped in your arms and tight cunt. He almost spat with anger at the simultaneous need to savour you, and the need to leave, knowing he could not have both. Duty to you held the greater weight and, feeling another orgasm creep through his back and balls far too quickly, he slowed.

Completely engulfed by the enormity of him, you stared up at Kento, made submissive under his emotional insistence, the thick aching stretch of him sheathed inside you. Your back arched off the ground with a guttural moan when Kento slowed, dragging himself through your core from ball to tip in long, languid thrusts, the whole length of his cock glistening with gluey white seed.

He swore he could feel every ridge of you, the mind-altering bend of his cock as it moulded to the curve inside you. He needed you to carry the shape of him forever, an unremovable flesh-memory. Something had changed in him as you carded your fingers through his hair, whispering praises to him, to try to hold him together.

Kento looked drunk. His eyes were distant and hyperfocused all at once, his breaths and groans gruff, his voice gravelly with emotion as his mouth muffled against your shirt.

"--sorry, I...can't move my hands...hurt you, I--" Kento grasped your shirt between his teeth, ragging his head from side to side with a growl to lift it up over your breasts. He did the same to your bra, gripping the cups to yank your breasts free. They bounced out, full and peaked under his hot, frantic breaths.

Kento nosed at them, pulling his cock from you slowly, only to slam back into you with enough force to leave you writhing and whimpering. His mouth and nose played with your breasts, nudging, sucking and biting, hungry and obsessive. Something primal glimmered in his green glass-concealed eyes, as your mounds jiggled every time he fucked into you. The visual stimulus of you spread beneath him, your tight pussy slick with his cum, doe-eyed and completely willing, sent him spiralling towards his high.

"God I wish I--wish I could stay-- more than anything...cum with me, please please please--"

His thrusts became frantic, rough and sloppy with no warning. Kento's eyes darted from your face, to your breasts and pussy, and back again, drinking in the shock and ecstasy plastered over your face. You were trapped within the humid embrace of him, erotically overstimulated by his smell, his desperation, the constant stroke of his weeping cockhead against your spongy soft spot.

You didn't realise how close you were to orgasm until his position shifted, his trimmed honey-gold trail now rubbing against your clit. Clinging onto him, and rubbing upwards to meet his thrusts, you begged for Kento to help you. Your begging was Kento's last straw, and he gasped, his seed slugging out in lazy, creamy trickles against your overstuffed cervix and pussy.

Barely able to see straight, Kento kept rubbing his rigid pelvis against you, gruff and messy while you felt the drag of pleasure through you, softer than bare feet through hot sand. Kento whispered to you, sweat mingling on your foreheads pressed together; "...don't regret a thing...won't regret a minute-- wish this was different...deserve more..."

Panting in each others embrace, the dreadful horror of reality seeped back into you both. You could hear cries in the distance, the rumble of battles. You fought an unwinnable fight. Silent, and pensive, you jolted out of your reverie to hear Kento groan above you, reluctantly pulling his softening cock free. He knelt, dewy-eyed, watching the gluey drip of his cum from you, moaning and shivering as he held his half-hard cock, nudging the cum back inside with his tip.

The sudden emptiness almost made you weep. You felt the same terrible foreboding emanating from him as you had when he arrived on the rooftop. Kento smiled down at you, heartfelt and reassuring, pressing a folded pocket handkerchief to you before pulling your underwear back on over it. He kissed you delicately, from toe to knee while you giggled, before planting one lazy kiss and nuzzle onto your belly. You grasped his head there, scratching gently at his scalp with your fingernails.

"Stay with me, Kento. Just stay." You pressed, knowing in your gut that his decision was already made. His sigh creaked the leather of his harness with broad, corded tugs of his shoulders.

"They need help, underground. I'm one of the few First Grades available. It's only right that I go down there."

Kento's words, as always, rang with decisive finality. Before you could begin to talk again, he interrupted you smoothly.

"You will not come with me."

"You can't stop me."

"Shoko needs you. Your reverse cursed technique is second only to hers, and she's in need of support. It's the proper thing to do."

You squirmed with guilt, knowing you would choose to let Shoko suffer over Kento. Kento glowered down at you, stern, as if he hadn't just fallen apart inside you. You swallowed, a coil of doubt inside your belly.

"...don't be a hero, Kento." Kento frowned as if he didn't understand, and you insisted. "Don't be a hero. Get yourself out first. I mean it." Kento hesitated, looking out over the city lights, the breeze ruffling his mussed hair. He pulled his shirt back on, threading it under his harness.

"...alright." He lied. He paused. You both stood, sticky with each others' cum cooling between your legs. Nuzzling nose to nose, it felt so surreal to have to toss aside post-coital softness, in exchange for the cold embrace of battle.

"Go to Shoko," Kento whispered against your lips, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, "and help her. Please. Do as I say."

"Promise you'll come back to me." You hushed into his kiss, beseeching him. He softened, deceptively reassuring, while hearing his clocktower chime.

"Always. I'm all yours. Always." Planting one lingering kiss to your forehead, you watched Kento's retreating back, his figure disappearing down the stairwell.

You wondered if you'd ever trust anyone other than Kento, over your own instincts.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Shoko was surprised to see you, her cigarette drooping as she raised her thick, dark eyebrows.

"Kento told me you wanted me." You insisted. Shoko shot Yaga one questioning look. Yaga shrugged, arms folded.

"We haven't spoken to Kento all evening." Shoko assured. You felt a flash of panicked rage in your gut, knowing he'd lied to you. Knowing he was taking himself to an unwinnable battle. You grabbed Shoko by the arm.

"Where are they? His team? Where is he?"

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Kento was bloodied, missing an arm of his shirt, his vision obscured by the incessant bleed of a head wound. Pushing out of Dagon's domain, he knew he was exhausted, already skirting his limit. He felt a monstrous wave of Cursed energy, so much deadlier than his own.

A volcano-headed Curse approached him, its hand outstretched and hovering over Kento's abdomen. Naobito and Maki already smouldered in agony, and Kento felt the sickening weight of failure in his chest He had only a moment to protect himself, and he may have coated his body in Cursed-energy in its entirety, had he not filled his death-sentenced mind with thoughts of you.

He expected fire and flames...and felt you. When he protected his right half, you had arrived at the edge of a knife blade, and protected his left. The volcano-headed Curse faltered, stepping back with a scowl.

Kento looked down at you, knelt at his side in a braced position. His clock stopped chiming, in a moment of twisted fates reserved previously for the gods alone. He considered that you were, perhaps, a goddess, and he may be your vassal. You looked up at him, bristling with rage, and Kento's heart swelled.

"I'll tell you off later. For now...we have a fight to finish."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

By the end of the night, Itadori Yuuji had gained a brother and retained a beloved father figure. Nanami Kento cast his eyes over Choso with a hum of resignation, considering he may have another boy to look after, too. The patch-faced curse who may have been his executioner in another life, met its end. He witnessed an old friend who was not an old friend, cast a battle royale over the length of Japan.

Gazing in mute horror over the devastation left behind, Kento felt a hand slip into his own. His ears flushed red. He cleared his throat.

"I'm-- I'm so sorry--"

You laughed, your hands over your face. Kento's eyes glimmered with mirth. He plaited his fingers in yours, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, mumbling against them.

"My hero."

[youryanderedaddy]

tw: female reader, non - con, manhandling, religious subtext (it's sydney)

Sydney has never felt this way before. He doesn't know the name of that feeling, the warmth that fills his chest and tightens his throat and reddens his cheeks as you sit before him at the library counter. He can't explain the pulse in his loins and the sweat that sticks to his back when you lean in to ask him something and your shirt opens up slightly, revealing such soft, mesmerizing skin. His hands start to itch and his mouth waters and he feels almost thirsty - but water never seems to quench whatever it is he's deprived of.

He wants to ask someone - maybe brother Jordan or his father, but something deep within him, some basic instinct, rings a bell, a reminder that there is nothing pure or holy about the feelings he harbors towards you. He knows love. He's read about it - he knows he loves God, he loves his church, his friends, his books. He knows love is gentle. Love is caring and tender and quiet, love is giving.

But when it comes to you, he only wants to take. He wants to bite your cheeks when you smile, to squeeze you in his arms until he hears your fragile bones crack. He wants to rip off your skin and crawl in your shell - to see your insides, to admire every inch of your flesh for his own sick satisfaction. He even keeps a box of everything you've ever lost - small trinkets, cheap bracelets, ripped socks, locks of hair... Anything to feel closer to you.

And yet Sydney tries to fight his urges - he averts eyes when you bend to pick something and pretends not to notice your bare legs in those mini skirts, the way the school swimsuit hugs your curves perfectly, or how your lips part when you bite down on a pencil. Or the marks of you teeth on the yellow wood, your smugded lipstick as you leave the bathroom, your hands on his shoulder with your nails digging in—

Sydney is a man of God, but you make him question his faith. In the sunlight everything is brighter, but when night comes, so do the nightmares. His pillow becomes softer, warmer - it lingers with the scent of your hair and he can't help imagining you laying next to him with an adoring smile on those luscious lips of yours. And as fatigue spreads over his tired body, his prayers long forgotten, the same dream haunts him - the one he's had since the day he first saw you.

You're no longer laying next to him - you're under him instead. Your hair isn't spread out angelically, but twisted and disheveled, wrapped around his fist. He's towering over you, tilting your chin up - holding you so tightly against his body you can't move an inch. Your eyes are red and swollen, lips bruised and bitten bloody - and you're trembling like an injured animal. You look so small, so pathetically adorable, so very naked and afraid, and splayed out like a feast in front of him, and he just devours you like the predator he knows he is.

You whine something incomprehensible along the lines of a plea, begging to be let go - but all your words become white noise to Sydney. His hands circle your throat painfully and only a few broken moans escape before you shut up completely. The man keeps thrusting into you without a sense of shame, egged on by the deep, inaudible sobs that shake your body to its core. The voice inside his head chants "mine, mine, mine" like a spell, like a curse that binds you both for all eternity.

Sydney always wakes up in cold sweat, unable to catch his breath. It's terrifying, seeing his darkest desires play out over and over each night. And as he tries to catch his breath and forget the taste of your neck on his tongue, there is one thought he never seems to fully rid himself of. How long until dreams are not enough to feed the monster inside of him?

How long until it all becomes reality?