#deardariaa

Fresh air drifts into the kitchen through the open window, but the room is still warm from the buns baking in the oven. It’s your day off, and you’re just vibing—doing chores, sketching, reading—anything to pass the time while Billie is out handling business stuff.

You’re wearing the pink apron your friends gave you for your birthday; everyone knows you’re the chef of the group, especially when it comes to baking. Honestly, half of your girlfriend's camera roll is just photos of your cute cakes. Your hair is tied back in two braids, totally makeup-free. In the background, your phone is propped up, playing a lecture about Henry VIII. You’re a total history nerd, and Billie loves it too—well, mostly she loves falling asleep to it.

You mumble those complicated names and dates with so much passion, and she just nods along, eyes half-closed, acting like she actually follows your monologue. It works every time, especially when your fingers are gently running through her soft, shiny hair.

You got so lost in thoughts about her that you almost burned the treats. You quickly threw on your oven mitts and pulled the tray out, flinching instinctively as the puff of hot air hit your face.

They were golden-brown—the perfect sign they were done. Without wasting a second, you took them out and started glazing them with sugar water.

You were humming a song and dancing around until your phone lit up.

“Billie💕”

Your heart immediately skipped a beat, even though the steam in the kitchen already had your cheeks as red as they could be. You pulled off the mitts and answered.

“Hey.”

“Hi sunshine, I’m on my way home.”

“Okay, can’t wait to see you,” you smiled, tilting your head like a kitten at the sound of her sweet voice.

And she was right on time. She pulled up ten minutes later, just as you were setting the kettle for tea or coffee. As soon as you heard her drop her bags and kick off her shoes, you ran to the hallway to greet her.

“Hi again, baby.”

“Heyyyy,” you dragged out the word, throwing your arms around her neck and resting your head on her shoulder.

“Did you miss me, angel?”

“Yeah, I did…”

“Come here.” After she said that, her soft, pouty lips found yours in a tender kiss. Her hands rested on your waist, occasionally sliding down to your lower back as she pulled you closer.

You were the first to pull away, giving her one last tiny peck on the corner of her mouth, which made her flash that gorgeous smile. You adore this version of Billie—no makeup, her natural lashes and roots showing, just her and that smile.

After that sweet moment, you headed to the kitchen together, and she immediately caught the scent of your masterpiece. You gracefully plated a delicious vegan bun for her, asking if she wanted black or green tea. And just like that, you spent the afternoon enjoying each other's company...

About an hour later, with full stomachs and rosy cheeks from the hot tea, you decided to put on a movie.

Of course, it didn’t take long to choose—you went with “Mean Girls” again, mostly just to cringe and make faces at the high schoolers flirting. Even though you were already in a warm, oversized hoodie, you grabbed a big, fluffy blanket for the two of you. Billie always laughs at how cute it is when you snuggle under it like two lovebirds on a branch. She had the remote in one hand, using the other to stroke your shoulder while you leaned into her, craving the affection.

She started the movie, and at first, it was all laughs and commentary on the scenes, but then she felt like something was missing. Billie turned her head slightly to where you were tucked against her and reached up, her hand softly grazing your cheek to get your attention. You looked up at her with those big "puppy” eyes, silently asking what was up. She didn't say a word, she just gave you that sweet, quiet look, her eyes dropping to your lips. You smiled and leaned in to meet her.

Your lips moved together in a quiet, tender waltz where nobody else existed. The movie lines fading in the background became white noise, completely forgotten the moment you wrapped your arms tighter around her waist, and her hand drifted from your cheek down to your neck…

@st0nerlesb0  @ohokaydawg @mikliss-mey @bilsbabyma @bitchesbrokenpromises @harrysxcarolina @agentbils @guppyyuri @urjustsosweet @serenewhirlwindarcade @gracie-sturn

Something soft is playing from the speaker of your phone, lying on the counter. You're standing in the kitchen in pink panties and a white top with puppies and little bows... pretty sure it was from Shein. The half-naked parts of your body are warmed by the steam rising from the pan you’re stirring. The room smells of garlic, basil, and olive oil.

You didn’t even hear her come in — your mind was busy replaying the day from morning until now. Thoughts about work, clients, the dumb typo you made in that document…

You only noticed her when strong hands landed on your waist, fingers pressing in deliberately, pulling your back into her chest. The warmth of her body through the fabric — and something hard. Definitely not a phone in her pocket.

“Hi, baby,” her voice is low, hoarse, right by your ear. “Do you know how much I missed you?”

Your head tilts back slightly, catching her eyes sideways as you smile.

“You texted me every ten minutes today,” you mumble under your breath, still smiling. Your gaze drops back to the skillet, hand stirring again and again.

And then you feel her lips just under your ear, moving slowly down to your neck — careful, like she’s asking permission. She inhales your scent. And suddenly your hand freezes mid-stir.

“I… I’m almost done cooking,” you try to say, but your tongue starts to betray you.

She doesn’t answer. Maybe just a “mmm.” Pressing harder into you from behind. First you feel the fabric of her jeans, and then — her cock. Heavy. Hard. Nestled against your ass, making your thighs tremble while her hands slip under your top. Feathery soft, her palms find your chest. You fit perfectly into her grip.

For a moment, one hand leaves. But it’s back quickly — her thumb slicked with spit as she circles your nipple, making it firm. Then both hands play in sync. Your back arches, grinding you more into her. Quiet moans, breathy whimpers. You love when she plays with your tits.

You gasp for air. She presses you into the counter, and you feel the mess growing between your legs — warm, sticky, impossible to ignore. You try to shift your weight from one leg to the other, but that only makes it worse.

One arm around your waist, the other slowly pulls off your top — teasing. The cold air kisses your skin, and her fingers are fire.

Kisses scatter across every inch of bare skin. And now her fingers hook around the waistband of your panties. They slip down in one slow tug. You’re completely bare, trembling, breath hitched.

There’s no mirror in front of you, but you know your lips are parted, your cheeks flushed. Warm air brushes your porcelain skin.

She’s touched almost every part of you. Her lips left a trail where they could.

And then you hear the sound.

Her hands disappear.

Her belt — the clink of cold metal.

Then fabric.

Her jeans hit the floor, just like your panties.

Now she’s naked too.

The tip of her cock presses. She drags it down your slit, teasing. She doesn’t enter — just strokes, checks how wet you are. Up and down. Sometimes pressing right where it makes you flinch.

Your hand trembles toward the stove — you turn off the heat.

And then she slides in. Slowly. Deeply. Filling you to the brim. You brace yourself on the counter, feel her hips meet yours. She leans in, her mouth near your ear, arms wrapped tightly around your waist. Billie whispers, “You okay?” And when you nod, she starts moving.

Carefully at first. Inside your burning warmth. You moan, and she growls right into your ear.

The rhythm picks up. Skin on skin. Your moans mix with her breathing. The counter groans like it might give out. You cling to her harder.

Her body shields your back completely. Her lips still kiss wherever they can reach. Your sounds and her panting right in your ear send more heat spiraling low.

Her hand sneaks between your open thighs, finding your clit. Not rough. She knows you’re sensitive. Just soft circles, brushing the tip.

You're close. Elbows on the counter, head hanging low, lips parted in a silent O.

And then it hits. Your body snaps — back arched, moaning hard. She pushes deeper, chasing her own high until she spills inside you with a growl and a shudder.

Afterward — she stays inside, arms still wrapped around you. Her weight grounding, her breath warm on your ear. Sweet praises spilling softly.

You close your eyes and listen to the same song still playing from the speaker. Her hands on you, her breath on your neck. The kitchen smells like something that feels like home and her.

@st0nerlesb0  @ohokaydawg @mikliss-mey @bilsbabyma @bitchesbrokenpromises @harrysxcarolina

In a blue case, you hold your phone between both hands as if it’s the only connection to the world you need right now. The whole day you can think only about her. About how she’ll make you tea, its tender smell filling the entire kitchen, or how she’ll softly run strands of your hair through her fingers, gently massaging your head. Or maybe how she’ll whisper all kinds of sweet nonsense into your ear just to make you fall asleep faster during your little afternoon nap, which had become your tradition.

But today wasn’t like that. After a delicious breakfast, Billie said, “Baby, I’m feeling a wave of inspiration today, so I think it makes sense to leave it in the studio. I’ll call Finneas and I’ll go… you’ll be okay alone, right?” she told you while holding your face in her hands. Your thick brows furrowed in protest. And eyes were rolled, while your heart tightened with disappointment.

You hated spending weekends alone. Of course, Shark was still there, but without Billie the house felt so much emptier. She was your sun, and without her, the day seemed gray.

The first hours you managed to read and cook. The entire kitchen was full of an incredible smell that spread into every corner. One hand stirred the pot with a spatula while the other held the book. You had to reread the same passages several times just to find the lost line where you left off. You called all your relatives, sitting on the countertop and swinging your legs like a little child.

From this moment, every half hour Billie received this:

i miss you :(

babyyy

i miss you so much bills☹️☹️☹️☹️

when will you be home?

You stared at the glowing screen and waited for the three dots to appear. Imagined her sitting in the studio, trying to find the right string, while all you wanted was her right here with you. Letting out a dissatisfied little growl, you went into your bedroom.

Your socks made soft shuffling sounds on the floor, and the bed covered in blankets looked like a cloud you wanted to sink into. And that’s exactly what you did.

Pressed to your chest was the big soft teddy bear Billie gave you on Valentine’s Day. Your lips curved like an upside-down rainbow. Missing her, you hugged the toy tighter. Everyone has days when you’re too clingy for your own good. And today was exactly one of them.

8:23pm.

You lay in bed, wrapped in the blanket so tightly it felt like you could vanish into it completely. The room was dim, only the lamp on the nightstand spreading warm golden light. The door opened quietly, and Billie walked in without a word. Her steps were steady, but strangely calming. She leaned down, took the phone from your hands where you had been watching some video about animals in Florida, and set it aside before touching her lips to your forehead. You frowned again, puffing out your lips like you had done a million times today. Still thinking about how she chose to leave for the studio to write, even though 90% of the lyrics she’d be sending while on tour were about you anyway, just to confirm her love for you every day.

“Stop hiding,” she said softly, but in her voice there was that same gentle authority that always warmed your stomach. “Look at me.”

You pulled down the blanket and raised your eyes. She traced your cheek with her fingers, then your bottom lip. Brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. Her touch was so confident you couldn’t help but relax, as if your body itself obeyed.

“That’s it,” she whispered, leaning so close her breath warmed your lips. She sat beside you, wrapped an arm around your waist, brushing aside all the stuffed toys, because now she was here. With one light motion she pulled you closer. Her arms were warm and strong, her gaze deep and tender at once. You wanted to argue, but the soft, familiar fingertips holding you tightly melted everything away.

Your hands slid to the back of her neck, the other to her back, gently stroking. Her nose started burrowing into your neck, warm breath burning the skin. Her eyes half-closed, lashes fluttering, like she was unsure if you’d stay angry or finally breathe out with relief. That was the moment when all your bitterness, all your loneliness dissolved in her touch. You knew she was here, and that was everything you needed right now.

And then she pulled you right into her lap, holding you as if the whole day apart had been too long. You buried your face in her collarbone, breathing in that familiar scent of her shampoo and the faint trace of studio air still clinging to her clothes. She kissed the crown of your head again and again, whispering nonsense—half apologies, half adoration—her voice stumbling but warm.

You felt her fingers drawing little circles on your waist, grounding you, telling you without words that you were her anchor, her home, no matter where inspiration carried her. And in that golden-lit room, wrapped up in her arms and blanket at once, you realized that the music she wrote out there wasn’t the real song. The real song was this—the two of you, beating hearts pressed together, steady and alive.

@st0nerlesb0  @ohokaydawg @mikliss-mey @bilsbabyma @bitchesbrokenpromises @harrysxcarolina @agentbils @guppyyuri @urjustsosweet @serenewhirlwindarcade @gracie-sturn

The lines on the pages of your book began to blur before your eyes. You were reading quickly, but 70 percent of the information wasn't leaving a single trace in your mind.

It wasn't that you were dozing off or tired; it was that your mind was completely consumed by Billie.

Billie, who had been busy writing lyrics all day. You had tried all day to get her attention.

You ran over to her desk more often than you needed to, just for a quick kiss during your own work breaks.

You brought her snacks and food, just to make sure she was fully immersed in her process and wouldn't mutter again that she wasn't getting anything done.

It's not that you were needy, but you had been dreaming of a kiss on your forehead all day, even at work.

Today, you had been working from home, online with clients. As a psychologist, you needed to listen carefully and attentively, taking notes in your journal. Of course, you did everything perfectly and even finished an hour early because a client had to reschedule "due to family circumstances."

You had completed every possible chore. You talked to Shark, your pet. You roasted vegetables. You went to pick up a package. You even cleaned your closet, which was already spotless.

Afterward, you took a shower and went through your evening routine, pouting and planning to stay grumpy all night. Now, even the book was starting to annoy you; the plot was dull and too standard for someone who had read more books than she'd been alive.

With a dramatic, discontented groan, you got up from the sofa. You left your slippers right where they were and padded up the stairs. You didn't even bother to dog-ear the last page.

As you approached the door, you could hear a quiet humming of a verse from a song. You went in without knocking, gently twisting the doorknob to keep it from squeaking.

You peeked inside. Blinking your eyes, you stared at her.

The moment Billie registered the sound, she spun her chair 180 degrees.

She had a pencil tucked behind her ear. Her computer screen showed music tracks and millions of files. The room was lit by a small lamp and a candle you had given her for Valentine's Day. On the table lay a small notebook where she jotted down notes and successful phrases.

"Come here, sweetheart," she said, turning back to her screen and patting her lap. You didn't need to be invited twice.

Shuffling in your warm socks, you took even steps toward your destination. Her warm palms opened wide, and like a small bear cub, you sat on her lap, wrapping your legs around her waist. Your hands, like a warm scarf, wrapped around her neck. With one hand, she held your waist, and with the other, she clicked the mouse endlessly.

"Billie... are you going to be long?... I need your help," you whined, leaning back a little to look her in the eyes. Most importantly: to pout your lips and give her the puppy-dog-eyes.

"I'm working, princess," she smiled at your face, gently pulling stray strands of hair from your messy bun.

She couldn't resist your pathetic state. She leaned in, giving you a light kiss. But you stood your ground, and as soon as she tried to pull away, you put one hand in her hair to control her movements. She let out a soft groan into the gentle kiss.

Just soft and pleading.

She began to mumble something between your lips, but you opened your mouth a little wider, and both of her hands came to rest on your body. Both held your waist, and you unintentionally arched into her warm, strong hands.

Finally, you loosened your grip so she wouldn't die "from a lack of air during a kiss with her girlfriend," and she pulled back slightly. Her hot breath was still on your cheek. Her plump lips had become even fuller from the kisses.

"Okay, okay," she said, looking away. She quickly closed all the applications and turned off the computer. She extinguished the candle and set her notebook aside.

With her small tasks complete, she stood up and lifted you with her. Over the last three years of your relationship, Billie had started going to the gym, so she could now perform such gestures with ease, treating you like a true princess.

You tightened your legs around her to keep from falling. Moving one leg to step, she kicked the door shut behind her and continued to kiss you. Her gaze followed the path to the bedroom. Her hand found the doorknob, and she opened it.

A few seconds later, you felt your butt land on the bed. A soft moonlight gave the room a minimal glow. She stepped away for a moment to turn on the small bedside lamp. While she did, you comfortably rested your head on the pillow.

You were wearing black sweat shorts and her purple hoodie with a bear on it, the one she'd say "everyone was wearing back in 2021."

Her soft, strong thighs came to rest on your hips. Your hands automatically went to her waist under her hoodie.

Her stomach was soft, with pleasant, short hairs all over her body.

She propped herself up on her elbows on either side of your head. You began to slowly lift her hoodie, while she ran her hands along your thighs.

You ran your fingers through her hair, gently pulling her closer. Her lips were soft against yours as you shared a deep and passionate kiss. As you both continued to undress, the heat built between your bodies. Your hands explored every curve, every dip, and every soft spot of each other's bodies.

She let out a low moan as your lips moved from her mouth to her neck, leaving a trail of feather-light kisses. Her hands moved to your pants, slowly pulling them down to reveal your bare skin. You both took your time, savoring every moment of intimacy. Her hands moved to your breasts, gently squeezing and caressing them. You arched your back in a soft moan of pleasure.

She moved down to your nipples, taking one between her lips and gently sucking. The sensation sent shivers down your spine, and you could feel yourself getting wetter with every passing second. You couldn't resist any longer and moved down to her breasts, taking her nipple between your lips. She moaned, her body arching toward yours.

As your lips continued to explore her body, your hand reached for the vibrator on the nightstand. You turned it on and gently slid it between her legs. The low hum of the device and the soft pressure on her most sensitive spot made her gasp in pure pleasure.

She moaned softly, pulling you closer, your bodies tangled in the sheets. Her hand gently guided yours to the perfect angle, and you could feel her hips begin to sway to the rhythm. The vibrations coursed through both of your bodies, a sweet, electric connection in the low light of the room. You leaned down and kissed her softly, your mouth finding hers in the darkness, and you both let out a soft sigh, lost in the moment together.

After that little act of love, Billie took very good care of you in that warm bed...

@st0nerlesb0  @ohokaydawg @mikliss-mey @bilsbabyma @bitchesbrokenpromises @harrysxcarolina @agentbils @guppyyuri

Love is what we strive and suffer for. We cry from joy and from heartache.

Your beautiful three-month-old daughter, Amelia, whom you raise and care for 24/7 with your wife.

The pregnancy and time after have been going well.

Those tiny fists of your daughter tapping against your chest.

The way Billie watches during feedings, her eyes soft as you cradle that fragile little body to your chest like it’s the source of life.

How you two decide who will get up tonight to soothe the tiny creature in the bassinet who refuses to sleep.

Or when you visit baby stores, ready to spend all your money on animal-themed onesies. It all started with a gray bunny outfit with pink ears. Billie gently placed them on either side of your baby's little head, trying to hold it up straight for the sweetest photo that would soon be sent to the family chat.

This has been the most incredible time of your lives.

Tonight was no exception. Billie had just finished a creative whirlwind and came home when it was too dark to see anything outside without the porch light. The soft yellow glow filled your home.

Your strong but tender hands were holding a little piece of life. Swaying gently, you tried to lull your daughter to sleep, whispering a lullaby. You were wearing a silky white nightgown, and her tiny body was curled into your chest.

With every passing minute, her mouth opened wider in sleepy yawns, and her eyes grew heavier. Her tiny legs stopped kicking and rested softly together. Her little fingers held on to your skin, and her tummy rose and fell like a small balloon.

The creak of the door didn’t even startle you. You instantly knew who it was. Familiar hands rested on your arms, thumbs gently stroking your skin. Soft lips kissed just beneath your ear like they were whispering, "I’m here. Always. No matter what."

You turned slightly, just enough to meet the eyes of your soulmate. You smiled at each other, your eyes glowing, and your fingers itched to reach out and touch the most precious thing you’d ever created.

With her lips puckered, Billie whispered, "Sleep sweetly," as she kissed Amelia’s forehead. That peaceful moment lingered until you gently laid the baby in her little sleep kingdom, pulled the blanket over her body, and tucked the pillow under her tiny head.

Your hand lingered on the doorknob, trying to make as little noise as possible as you stepped away.

Then came your familiar, wonderfully comforting routine.

Faces washed. The mess in the kitchen cleaned up. The storm of the day settled.

You still got anxious sometimes. Maybe even more than before. Something in you changed during pregnancy, a kind of worry that never really left.

You and Billie had been invited to Claudia’s launch party for her new makeup collection. Her brand had grown massively over the past year, and this event was going to be important. Alongside influencers and beauty bloggers, she had also invited her closest people.

Your anxiety won, and you decided to try on your dress again, even though Billie was lying on the bed scrolling through her phone.

It was a soft pink dress with puffy sleeves. The fitted fabric hugged your figure beautifully. You always believed every body was beautiful. You never really struggled with self-esteem. But lately, you started wondering… was your belly sticking out too much?

It had shrunk after giving birth, but the swelling and a few extra pounds were still hanging around. Every day, Billie told you that she practically went blind from how stunning you looked. So many sweet compliments, all the time.

You quickly pulled on the dress, slipped your arms through the sleeves, and zipped it up.You stood in front of the mirror, hands roaming from your chest to your waist, trying to see what only you seemed to notice.

Your face fell. You turned side to side, inspecting yourself.

Suddenly, Billie appeared behind you. Her brow arched slightly. She was in her oversized gray pajamas, her body pressed against your back, her chin resting in the curve of your neck.

Those deep ocean-blue eyes stared at your reflection, confused and concerned.

"M-maybe I need to go to the gym?Like you do. It just sticks out..."

In a second, her arms were wrapped around your waist, her hands over your stomach like a shield, protecting you from the world.

"The only thing you need is to realize how ridiculously perfect you are in my eyes, and how loved you are. You created life. You created our daughter.

"Sweetheart, your belly is beautiful. And if it really bothers you, it’ll be gone in a few more months anyway."

Her lips trailed along your collarbone with such gentleness, your heart could burst. Like she was sealing her words into your skin, proving every bit of them.

You nodded and rested your forehead against her cheek, closing your eyes. Billie held you just a little longer than necessary, as if afraid to let go. In that quiet touch, there were more words than you’d ever find on a page.

"Tomorrow, you’ll be the most beautiful one there" she whispered, kissing your temple.

But tonight, you’re already the most loved.

You stayed like that for a while before curling into bed together. You fell asleep with your nose against her shoulder.

And Billie stayed awake a little longer, tracing slow patterns on your back, watching the girl she loved more than anything in the world.

A room in warm pastel colors.

In front of you is a laptop on which you watch old lectures of your professor.

In which you watch old lectures from your professor.

It's the last few days of summer, and you try to dedicate 30 minutes every day to remember what you studied this year in university.

With one eye, you're making sure to apply blush evenly with your fingertips. With the other, you're reading incomprehensible terms in the video subtitles before you.

You hope you don't overdo the blush.

Because there's one person who could make the situation on your face a hundred times worse.

As if you didn't just overdo the makeup, but took a tube of red lipstick and smeared it all over your face.

Today is your friend Charlotte's birthday.

You have a gift, part of which you made yourself. You know she'll appreciate it.

But you hope that today, someone else will appreciate you. And it's not Charlotte.

You're wearing perfectly ironed clothes, thanks to a new fabric softener. A white t-shirt and a long, pink satin skirt.

These were the dress code colors for your friend's special day.

When you finished your light, barely-there makeup, you put on the outfit. Now you added a pair of white heels on a small platform.

A few heart-shaped rings and elegant earrings.

You smile at yourself in the mirror, a mix of happiness and nervousness.

The happiness is understandable.

The nervousness? Because you know you'll be spending most of the evening with your other mutual friend, Charlotte's friend.

Her name? Billie.

You met through friends and now you can't get enough of each other.

Late-night messages.

Dates.

Touch. So much of it.

You decided, why not go together? Yes, you've seen each other many times, but each time feels like the first.

You bite the inside of your cheeks to keep from smiling like your mom just let you skip school today.

You spin in front of the mirror a few more times and apply perfume. You adjust all your jewelry.

Inhale. Exhale.

Your phone vibrates with a new message.

"I'm outside your house."

You send a heart in reply.

You lock your apartment in one motion and look for the right button on the elevator.

There it is.

You walk down the sidewalk. Your heels announce your presence with a rhythmic click.

Billie has her window all the way down, chin resting on her folded hands.

That confident smile on her face is one you're starting to see in your dreams, too.

Your face lights up in response.

When you're just a few steps away, she opens the door and gets out.

"Hi, sweetheart."

"Hi, Bills."

She leans in and kisses your cheek, stroking your shoulder at the same time, which makes you giggle as pleasant goosebumps course through your body.

And that feeling. That wave of infatuation that has been spreading through your body since the two weeks in the start you've been talking.

She takes the box from your hands. It's beautifully wrapped with a large ribbon in the middle.

"You really tried hard," you hear her say as she places the package in the back seat.

꒰ঌ♡໒꒱

The drive is filled with light conversation and questions.

It's calm and warm.

Billie looks stunning. She's not wearing any flashy rings. Just minimalist ones that adorn the fingers holding the steering wheel.

Of course, she followed the dress code. She's wearing light blue wide shorts and a pink oversized t-shirt. High white socks and beautiful glasses that sparkle in the sun. This is all of Billie. Just as she is.

The birthday party is at an incredibly beautiful place. It's Charlotte's parents' large country house, where they live.

Beautiful landscapes and endless fields of lavender and strawberries. They have two of their own businesses that they've run together their entire lives.

You've met them. They're probably some of the kindest, most big-hearted people you've ever met.

A person at the entrance takes your gifts. You say your names and you and Billie are let inside, holding hands.

It's already a habit, slowly becoming a normal thing.

The party is in full swing.

People are dancing and laughing. Charlotte is taking pictures with her boyfriend and the ring he gave her.

Your heart feels like it's about to burst from all the warmth inside it today.

Almost everyone has given a toast to the birthday girl. The food is incredible. Everything about this evening is perfect.

As you talk to Charlotte's dad about your university, Billie stands next to you, soaking up your stories.

Her dad is a wise and smart man.

"Girls, go over there," he says, narrowing his eyes and pointing to a field of unpicked red strawberries. Their workers didn't come to work today because everyone was busy preparing for the birthday.

You and Billie exchange glances and nod.

꒰ঌ♡໒꒱

Your feet feel a sense of relief when you take off your shoes.

Your warm palms touch each other.

You're like little kids, giggling between the rows of red berries.

She picks the most beautiful strawberry. You open your mouth, and Billie feeds you. Then you feed her.

꒰ঌ♡໒꒱

"We've eaten so many that I can barely taste them anymore," she says, hiccuping again.

You part your soft lips and accept another juicy berry.

"Yeah... maybe we should head back, it's getting dark," Billie says, looking up at the house glowing with lights and music. Then she looks at you again as she stands up and offers you her hand.

"By the way, have you seen that horror movie where people get lost in..."

The decision wasn't yours, but the circumstances were. You and Billie stayed to sleep at Charlotte's because the party went a little longer than you thought. Almost everyone is drunk and chatty.

But you're both completely sober.

You choose a room on the second floor with a balcony. It's small but very cozy. When you walk in, your feet are numb, and the first thing you see is Billie.

The moonlight illuminates her features so perfectly that you freeze for a second in the doorway.

You take another step toward the bed and put your bag on the floor.

You haven't been in this state in a long time: makeup you won't wash off for the night, a sweaty body, and sleeping in the same clothes you danced in all evening.

But you're impossibly happy. Especially when you hear this:

"Come here."

You accept the invitation immediately and walk toward her.

She's on the balcony, leaning on the beautiful railing.

You quietly walk up to her and stand opposite her. She smiles at you and takes one step closer.

But at that moment, your heart is already pounding in your chest, and your pupils are dilating.

"It was a really good day, wasn't it?" You nod and laugh as funny moments replay in your head.

She takes another step closer.

"You know what else is beautiful today? You and the moon," she says. She says it so carefully, as if she'd been thinking about it for a long time.

Not superficially.

But directly and honestly.

What's truly on her mind.

The last step.

Your faces are level, and the tip of her nose lifts slightly as the corners of her lips twitch into a smile when you don't find a response to her comment. Instead, you're twiddling your fingers, trying to look away.

The tips of her fingers, like a feather, tuck a stray lock of your hair behind your ear.

"Can I...?"

And you finally hear it. The words you've been waiting for.

Just the two of you.

You nod your head energetically, and Billie slowly leans down. First, you gently rub the tip of your nose against hers, which makes her smile. Then against her soft lips as her right hand finds its way to your waist. Her other hand tremblingly entwines your fingers.

For a moment, you just stay that close. Her thumb strokes your waist under your soft skirt, and you rub your nose against her full lips.

And when she can no longer hold back, she leans down and connects your lips in a kiss.

At first, neither of you moves. Just the closeness. After a moment, she gently presses against your lips, and you begin to move slowly.

You and Billie. The warm connection between you has found the right way to be expressed.

The moonlight.

Your hands on each other's bodies.

Your lips held gently together.

Your heart you can hear in your ears.

And her warm touch.

@st0nerlesb0  @ohokaydawg @mikliss-mey @bilsbabyma @bitchesbrokenpromises @harrysxcarolina @agentbils @guppyyuri

The way your body responds to waking up drives you crazy. Everything feels warm and lazy. Your system begins to stir with gentle, rhythmic pulses in your temples. Your skin is pressed against the bedsheets and... against Billie.

You're lying on your side, one leg draped over a long, soft cat-shaped pillow. Billie gave you this adorable pregnancy pillow back when you were four months along.

Her warm hand rests on your stomach, which is already so small again.

Her other arm wraps around you from below.

You can feel her warm breath on the back of your neck as she breathes in and slowly lets the air out. Sometimes she mumbles something in her sleep, then her brows furrow sweetly, and her grip on you tightens.

You can hear the gentle hum of cars from the open window. Birds chatter animatedly among themselves.

Sometimes a wave of cool air flows through the room, making the door shift for a second, and your hips press against the lower part of Billie's stomach.

You know you must look ridiculous, with your bangs resembling Justin Bieber's hair from 2014 and the puffiness on your face from where your cheek was pressed into the pillow. But it doesn't matter.

The most important thing on your mind is what's behind Billie. Unfortunately, you don't have a third eye to see it.

Your daughter's crib. Leilani.

You can already picture how this little creature you created is sleeping so sweetly. Tucked into her soft baby sleep sack so her tiny hands don't scratch her face. Her cheeks always look like little apples after she wakes up, and her fists reach for the sky when you take the sack off. A sweet little smile spreads across her face. Just for you and Billie.

But right now, you're wrapped in the warm cocoon of the person you love most in the world.

Your wife.

You hear her often letting out quiet "mmm" or softly whispering your name.

The corners of your lips turn up at her gestures, and goosebumps run across your body.

You try to sear this moment into your memory as deeply as possible. Into your long-term memory.

When her soft lips find your shoulders and the back of your neck, your head dips down uncontrollably, and a quiet laugh escapes you. You can feel the shape of her kisses change because of her own smile.

You move the pillow you were hugging all night and turn your full attention to your wife.

Your two nighttime braids bounce as you change position.

Now you're face to face with the most gentle person you've ever seen. Her hands automatically settle on your waist, and yours find their place on her neck and shoulders.

Your bodies are pressed together perfectly. Your chests and stomachs meet.

You smile at each other, and the tips of your fingers tuck her "baby hairs" behind her ear. She watches you carefully, as if she still can't believe she has this view of her own world right in front of her.

Her lips, soft as a feather, leave a perfect mark on your forehead for five seconds. Then on your beautiful nose. And finally, on your lips. A lazy, soft kiss. Your leg drapes over her hip, bringing you as close as possible. In response, Billie's hands move a little lower.

"Morning kiss achieved..." she smiled.

Of course, it doesn't last long. Leilani seems to know exactly what you're doing and begins to stir. At first, it's just the sounds of a baby frowning, coming out of her dreams about teddy bears. Even if you know she doesn't actually have dreams, you tell yourselves she does.

But then she starts moving actively, giving clear signals.

"I'll get up," you mumble between kisses.

You reluctantly lift the blanket and get out of the soft bed. You're wearing a t-shirt and grandma-style underwear—the kind you've been wearing since giving birth—and a top under your shirt that perfectly hugs your incredibly sensitive postpartum breasts.

You walk to the crib and smile at this little ray of sunshine. Billie is already propped up on her elbow, watching with a proud smile.

You reach for Leilani's little scrunched-up face and kiss her cheek.

"I'm here. I'm with you," you murmur as you unwrap her from the sleep sack. You unwrap the fabric from right to left, then left to right. Her tiny fists reach for the sky.

Morning stretches. Your favorite.

She yawns, like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon.

You and Billie laugh. Your eyes sparkle.

You pick her up and carry her back to the bed. Billie lifts the covers for you and your little princess, and you grab a large, soft blanket before you all settle in. You lie down, tucking her onto this fluffy cloud. Now she is calm.

You place her small body on the bed, feeling like you could break her at any moment.

The three of you form a cocoon of warmth. Leilani falls back asleep, tucked between you, tiny and fragile as porcelain.

You look at them both and feel it: right here is your entire life. Your love, your home, your future.

@st0nerlesb0  @ohokaydawg @mikliss-mey @bilsbabyma @bitchesbrokenpromises @harrysxcarolina @agentbils @guppyyuri