#having a lot of feelings about a lot of things

[gurugirl]

Sex Tutor

Summary: Harry's got a reputation on campus and you're curious to know if he can help you.

A/N: Requested! Thank y'all for being patient with me! Hope you enjoy! This will be 2 parts!!

Word Count: 10k

Warning: smut (oral sex), fluff, praise kink

. . .

“Yeah… that was good. I liked it.”

That wasn’t the reaction you were hoping to get. You thought Gunther would be a lot more enthusiastic after coming in your mouth and you swallowing him down. You gave it your best work. You even choked a couple of times and you did hear him moan once or twice. But that didn’t feel like enough

You wanted to ask him exactly what went wrong. Tips on what he liked and didn’t. What you could do better next time… But instead, he just smiled and kissed your cheek, avoiding your mouth because obviously kissing the lips that had just sucked his cock would be gross.

So you left his dorm feeling a little disappointed in yourself. Annoyed really. You wished you were more bold and could just ask him what he wanted, what he liked most. You complained to your roommate even. She loved giving advice so you were always venting to her.

“Well, you know there’s like this guy on campus who will walk you through that kind of thing… a sex tutor if you will. Let’s just say that he comes highly recommended. I know someone who hung out with him a few times, and she learned so much about her body and how good sex could feel without coming but he always made her come every time, and no man has ever done that to her before she told me.”

“A tutor for blow jobs?” You scrunched your face and giggled.

“Well, blow jobs and everything else really. I don’t know. He gets around and they say he’s very knowledgeable about the body and sex. I think he’s like getting his masters in sexual health or something?”

You shoved at her shoulder and laughed, “Oh my god I don’t think so. That sounds crazy. He’s probably some weird pervert or something.”

Your roommate turned her cellphone screen to face you, showing you an Instagram page with a photo of a very attractive young man you’d seen on campus a time or two.

“That’s him?” Your eyes widened as you looked from the photo to your roommate.

“Yup. He’s not a weirdo either. I hear he’s super respectful and smart. Plus the bonus is that he looks like this.”

You nodded. That certainly was a bonus. Harry Styles. You knew about him from the student council. He did a lot of volunteering on campus and he was a graduate student so you didn’t know him all that well, being only a sophomore yourself, but it was hard not to at least know the name and the face. He was popular. Clearly far more popular than you even realized.

And you definitely weren’t going to reach out for a “session”. That just felt silly. Though, you couldn’t say you weren’t intrigued by the idea, it just wasn’t for you. Except that when Gunther didn’t text or call you back for three full days, the whole time you wondered if your blow job was that bad. So when he did finally text you back to make plans for the following week, you felt like you were being given another chance to prove how good you could be. And maybe a lesson or two could be useful.

Reaching out to him via DMs on Instagram felt so unserious but you still did it. You cringed as you hit send and read over your message three times.

Hi! I heard you give special “tutoring” sessions and wanted to know if you have some time to meet with me to set something up? Let me know if it’s okay.

You couldn’t believe you were doing this, reaching out to a stranger for, basically, a booty call. But apparently he was used to it and had no qualms about responding to you in less than thirty minutes. As if he was running some kind of business.

Hi! Happy to meet up with you either tonight or Friday night. The initial meeting should only take like 20 minutes, somewhere public so you feel comfortable. I’ll ask you a few questions and then we’ll set up a private one-on-one session together if it makes sense for both of us. No pressure ever. Whenever you’re ready.

Private one-on-one session. You rolled your eyes as you read over Harry’s response.

Tonight is good for me if you can fit me in. Whatever time you want.

You didn’t know what to expect. You imagined he was cocky since he was apparently so good and sought after. Perhaps he would take one look at you and turn around. You were sure he had a say in who he “tutored”. Doubted he took on every single person who reached out to him.

Your roommate said he was respectful but you would place money on the fact that he was probably full of himself, being that he was a self-proclaimed Sex Guru. You were preparing yourself for someone with a larger-than-life personality.

You kept your outfit casual, not wanting to look like you were trying too hard. Jeans and a hoodie. Though you did shower and put on nice panties and made sure you smelled good. Just in case. One never knows when they are due to visit with a sex tutor.

Maud’s was one of your favorite spots on campus. They had the best iced matcha latte and that’s just what you ordered yourself when you arrived. You sat down at a small table and faced toward the door so you could keep an eye out.

You were looking down at your cell phone when you heard the chime of the door. Flitting your eyes up and away from the screen of your phone you scanned the entry and spotted him right away.

He was wearing a black pullover hoodie and jeans. His hair all tousled like he’d just finished a “tutoring” session. You raised your hand to wave at him and catch his attention and he grinned as you stood up but he gestured for you to stay seated, “I’ll be right back. Just gonna order a drink.”

You were already feeling hot and embarrassed. God, what were you doing? The man was sex on legs and that deep, raspy voice he just spoke to you with had your insides twisting and turning all mushy.

When he returned he had an iced tea and he sat across from you. The smile on his face was kind. Open. It set you at ease a bit.

He took a sip through his straw and you noted the rings on his fingers and the nail polish on his nails, “So, Y/n. It’s nice to meet you in person. What are you majoring in?”

Okay. Small talk. You could handle that.

You told him your classes and what you were majoring in and then asked him the same and when he explained he was going for his doctorate in psychology with the intent to become a sex therapist you felt your heart thump wildly. He was gorgeous and going for a doctorate. The man was so beyond out of your league that you wondered why he was even sitting at that table with you entertaining this silly request of yours.

“Wow. That’s… I’m impressed.”

He grinned and you saw a dimple carve into his cheek, “Thank you. I’ve worked really hard to get where I am. Still working, though. So let’s talk about what you want. What things are you interested in getting some guidance on?”

Here it was. The moment you’d been dreading. But also what you were most curious about.

“Well, I’m seeing this guy and,” you took a breath. It was embarrassing to say it so casually at a café on campus of all places.

Harry reached toward you and placed his warm palm over the top of yours, “Hey, I know this feels weird. Doing this. I’m not going to pressure you to say it if you find it’s too uncomfortable but just know,” he dipped his head down to meet your gaze with his brows gently raised, “Everything you tell me here will be kept confidential and private. I’m not going to make fun of you or compare you to anyone else. If you change your mind, that’s okay too. I want you to feel like you’re talking to a friend. Okay? It’s up to you how much or how little you say. We move at your pace.”

You let out the breath you were holding and smiled. He was so – nice. He made you feel so at ease.

“Thank you. It’s weird. Yeah… but I think I’m okay. I want to do this. I want to be better at like,” you looked around yourself and lowered your voice as Harry moved his hand from yours and you settled your gaze back on his, “Better at giving blow jobs. And maybe like initiating more?”

He nodded, “Okay. Have you ever given a blow job before?”

You nodded, “Recently. The guy didn’t seem very enthusiastic about it so I didn’t know if I did something wrong.”

He took a sip of his tea and his green irises bored into yours, “I can tell you one thing I know that is true for nearly every single male I know; they love getting head. Even if he wasn’t vocal he probably really enjoyed whatever you did. Does that make you feel better about your skill level?”

You puffed out a laugh and saw the smirk on his face. He was trying to get you to smile, “I don’t know. Probably. I’m sure I’m overthinking it but I just wanted… like I want to be really good. Want to know tricks to get a real response.”

“Did the guy you’re seeing orgasm?”

You nodded again.

Harry’s grin softened, “Then you did as good as you could have. Goal achieved. He orgasmed and you made that happen.”

“But I want to be better. Like… I really enjoyed what I was doing. Made me really… well���” you looked down at your empty mug and sighed, “I felt like I enjoyed it more than he did.”

He nodded and licked his lips and if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was kind of checking you out. You weren’t wearing anything revealing but he seemed to keep dropping his gaze to your lips and neck. But you figured that was because he was still getting used to your face and he was sussing you out a bit to see if he wanted anything to do with you beyond this conversation.

But that was true. He was checking you out. He saw your Instagram pictures before he contacted you (always his first step) and thought you were cute and wouldn’t mind seeing you in person. He certainly wasn't disappointed by you when he saw you either. You were cute and a little nervous and when you started talking about how you enjoyed giving that loser a blow job he couldn’t help but shift his eyes down to your mouth and imagine what your lips would look like on his cock. He wondered if you’d be just as eager to suck him off as you seemed like you were for the other guy.

Now, Harry was a polite and nice man. He was as respectful as they came. But he was still a man with a very high sex drive and he couldn’t help it. He did enjoy having sex and he got a lot of ass because he was good at what he did. And he was under no allusion that it also didn’t have anything to do with how attractive he was. Because of course, it did. He was aware of the way women looked at him and all the whispers about him on campus. And most of the time the sessions were just fun sex more than anything else. However, he happily gave guidance when needed.

And this time he was feeling pretty gung-ho to see what you could do. He’d like to get started right away, which normally he’d wait until after the initial meeting before jumping into it but there was something about the way you were looking at him, your eyes hungry and inviting…

You watched Harry shift in his chair and look around the café before he looked back at you, “What are you doing right now? Like after this?”

“Oh… nothing. Was gonna read a little, prep for a test I have on Monday. But…” you shook your head.

“Would you be interested in going somewhere more private? My studio is at the off-campus university apartments. Twenty-minute walk from here.”

Was he…? You scrunched your brows, confused at the sudden invite to his place.

“It’s up to you. I’m not rushing you or anything I just have a free evening and you seem really enthusiastic and I’d like to kind of get a feel for what we’re working with. If you think you’re ready.”

You nodded, “Okay. I mean… yeah. So no roommates?” You laughed nervously as he stood up and it was the first time you let your attention fall to the space at his crotch, to which you quickly bobbed your eyes back up to his face as you stood.

“Nope. Co-ed apartments. No roommate. Super private.” He didn’t miss the way you scraped your eyes over his torso and down to the spot on his jeans where his zipper was.

So that was that then. You’d be getting a lesson sooner than you imagined. And when you walked the twenty minutes through campus and the street that was just adjacent to the cafeteria you could almost hear your heart pounding. He was taller than you expected. He easily kept the conversation alive with small talk. He seemed so confident and easygoing. You tried to let that charisma and charm soak through your veins so that you weren’t as nervous as you felt, but it was impossible. You were about to go into Harry Style’s apartment alone and probably give him a blow job.

Harry waved at a few people on your way up to his floor. He was clearly popular. You wondered if anyone knew what might be happening. Why you were with him and why you were following behind him like you were a pup being trained and he was carrying a treat.

“Here she is,” he opened his door and gestured for you to walk inside. Neat and tidy with stacks of books and lots of plants. Some plants hanging, most potted, and on the floor or on tables. You noted he had no television and that there was a big partition that separated the small living space from what was probably where he had his bed. The kitchen was organized with open shelving and he’d bought a wire rack and it was stacked full of packaged foods, spices, oil, and other things to cook with at the top and at the bottom with pots and pans and a blender with its cord neatly wrapped around the base.

He excused himself to the bathroom while you looked around. There wasn’t anywhere to go really. There were two doors in the whole place. The bathroom door and another one, which you assumed was a closet. The kitchen area was open to the small living space.

When Harry emerged he sat down on the couch, which looked well-worn. You wondered how many people he’d had over and on that very couch. He sat with his legs spread and drew his arms over the back of the couch and just watched as you stepped in closer toward the small coffee table, “I like all the plants,” you commented.

He nodded and you clasped your hands behind your back in wait for what would happen next. You didn’t want to look again at his crotch. But the way he was sitting made it hard. He took up so much space on that couch and with his legs spread open like they were, it was almost as if he wanted you to.

“Gonna sit with me? I’m not gonna do anything if you don’t want.”

You nodded and sat down, keeping your limbs close to your body and separate from him. You didn’t want to invade his space or get in too close. Not yet anyway. Not until he invited you. Or rather, until he told you what to do next.

“Everything I said at Maud’s still stands. If you change your mind that’s fine. I’m not going to be mad.”

You turned to look at him and swallowed. The guy was out of this world. Simply delicious looking. “Okay.” You spoke in barely above a whisper.

Harry leaned forward, putting his elbows over his knees as he kept his eyes on you, “Is this how you usually initiate?”

You raised your brows and shook your head, “What?”

“You said you wanted to be better at initiating. So far, I’m not getting any signals that you’re interested. Could be your first problem. Try relaxing a little, Y/n. Sit back and unhook your fingers. Loosen your shoulders. Not only will you feel more settled, but you’ll make the person with you feel better too. Which could push you to naturally begin conversation or movements that encourage contact.”

“Oh. Okay,” you sat back into his couch and loosed your hands, relaxing your posture, and looked at him, “Like this?”

Harry grinned and let out a small laugh, “Perfect. Now at least it appears you’re not scared of me.”

“I’m not scared,” you quickly shook your head.

“I didn’t think you were. But your body language was giving closed-off signals. Which could appear to some like fear or discomfort.”

It made sense you guessed.

“I see. So, relax and it makes everyone feel better.”

He grinned, “So tell me what normally happens when you’re with someone and it leads to something sexual. Set the scene for me.”

You cleared your throat and decided to use your last time with Gunther as the example.

“Well, we were in his dorm room listening to music and laughing about something–“

“Back up a little. Did you invite yourself to his room? Did he invite you? What happened before you got to his room?”

“Oh, uh…” you pursed your lips in thought. “Well, we were out with two mutual friends. At a bar. Gunther, his name is Gunther, he was kind of flirting with me and I liked it. We didn’t really know each other all that well before but I always found him interesting. And so… he was flirting with me. Complimenting me. Things like that. Then he asked me to go back to his room with him. So, I sort of figured something would happen,” you shrugged. You didn’t know why it was so weird telling him all those details but it was.

You recounted how Gunther had made all the moves; kissed you first, groped you and then somehow it ended up with you sucking him off while he laid back on his bed and you were between his legs.

“And… he didn’t return the favor? Like you didn’t get anything?”

You shook your head, “I mean, I didn’t ask. He got off and then that was it really. I left not long after.”

Harry frowned, “Okay. And did you hope he’d do something in return? Like, use his hands or his mouth on you? Did you want more?”

Another shrug of your shoulders, “I mean… I didn’t expect it. Thought maybe next time we could do more? I don’t know.”

“You didn’t expect it. But would you have liked it?”

Nodding your head you looked away from his eyes, “I guess.”

“Did it turn you on?”

Another embarrassing thing to admit to someone you hardly knew. You nodded again, “It just all happened really quickly. I kind of thought things would take longer and we’d chat and maybe he’d have me stay longer and then… well anyway. It was like a total of thirty minutes or something that I was in his room.”

Harry sighed and crossed his leg over his thigh toward you, “And you really want to give Gunther the best head you can? The guy who wasn’t worried about your own needs? Seems very selfless of you, Y/n.”

You let out a breath and laughed, “I know. I just want to be good at it. And that was the first time we did anything so I figured I’d give him a pass.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you. Gunther is lucky you’re still willing to give him another shot.”

“I guess I thought if I was better he’d want to do it more and maybe then we could do other things too.”

“I’m going to be honest, Y/n,” Harry stretched his arm across the back of the couch, “You’re very cute and you probably won’t need to worry much about initiating most of the time. Like, for me, all you have to do is look at me with those pretty eyes and I’m ready to do whatever you want me to.”

It had been a surprise to hear that. You weren’t sure what to do with that information but you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you looked down at your lap.

“But a good start is to keep eye contact. At least enough to indicate interest. Can you look at me?”

Lifting your gaze to his he grinned, “There we go. So pretty.”

You shook your head, “I’m sure you say that to everyone.”

Harry lifted his hand to your cheekbone, “No. I don’t. And I don’t do this with just anyone either. Sometimes I turn down a request. I don’t tell them why but… There’s gotta be attraction on my end as well. And I find you very attractive, Y/n.”

You swallowed down the saliva in your throat and blinked for a break in eye contact before biting your lip.

“Now, even though we’re here for one thing, I do have opinions on matters of the heart and relationships. And frankly, I have to be honest about this Gunther, guy,” he dropped his hand, making his fingers brush down your cheek until he was no longer touching you, “I don’t like that he didn’t offer to get you off too. That’s a big red flag in my book. I feel it’s important to give and to receive unless it’s explicitly stated at the beginning. But you told me you thought you’d get more. And that bothers me.”

“Well, he’s a nice guy. I think he just wasn’t thinking…”

“He wasn’t thinking about your needs. That was selfish of him and something to watch out for. We can give him a pass for the first time, but if you see him again and he still doesn’t think about your needs, I’d hope you’d end that relationship and seek someone who’s willing to be less selfish with you.”

It surprised you that Harry was saying that about Gunther. But perhaps he was right. You did leave his dorm that night quite disappointed.

“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I know you barely know me but that’s just my take. I’d never not offer to return the favor,” he kept his eyes on yours and you swore his lips were suddenly a shade darker. They looked like the perfect lips to kiss.

He grinned when he noted where your eyes were homed in on, “Do you mind coming closer? Feels like you're still too far away.”

You puffed out a nervous laugh as you scooted your bottom in closer toward Harry. His arm was draped over the back of the couch behind you and you felt the warmth of him before you felt his fingers graze the back of your neck.

 “So, I can kiss you? Can we start there?”

You breathed out through your nose and smiled as you nodded and kept your face angled toward his. He watched as you hesitantly put your palm on his knee and he put his hand over yours, “You’re a natural. See?”

Another soft laugh fell from your mouth as Harry’s face drew in closer to yours and your heart stopped as he nudged his nose into yours and you felt his soft lips smush against yours.

It didn’t take long for you to start feeling that familiar heat between your legs as he ran his tongue against yours. It felt so intimate… not like a tutor lesson or anything of the sort. It was you and a handsome man making out on his couch as he pulled you onto his lap. It felt real.

For some reason, you imagined it being a little more dry. Like a real lesson. Like he’d pull his pants down and tell you what to do and show you what he liked and what really made men go wild. You hadn’t imagined kissing being part of the equation for some reason.

“Did he tell you how soft your lips are or how those sweet little noises coming from your mouth drove him crazy?”

He spoke his words between kisses and you were going to pass out. Because no, Gunther gave you no compliments once you got into his dorm room.

You shook your head as you parted from the kiss, your eyes on his.

Harry’s eyes roved your face as he softly dragged his thumb back and forth on your jaw, “I don’t like him one bit. You deserve someone who’s going to tell you how good you are and how good you make them feel.”

He softly pressed his lips against yours again, the kiss heating up into a frenzied pace once again as you stuffed your fingers into his hair and then you felt the bulk of his erection under your thigh when you moved in closer.

Parting from the kiss you looked down and then back up at him and he just smiled. Like it was the most normal and natural thing ever. Which… it kind of was.

“Got me all hard already,” he slid his thumb from the edge of your bottom lip inward and you moaned, “Just like that. You’re already better than you think you are. You’re driving me crazy, Y/n. I want to see what these lips look like wrapped around my cock. Can we do that?”

You nodded and began to move off of him but Harry took your hand in his, making you pause, “I’ll let you get me off if you let me get you off too. Okay?”

Your eyes widened, “Really? I thought this was just for–“

“I have a method and it always includes getting the other person off too. Or at least making them feel good. Unless you don’t want that. That’s okay too, but I would prefer to touch you as well.”

“Okay,” your words were breathy as he helped you off his lap, keeping your hand in his but then he stood up and you watched as he ran his free hand over his crotch, “Is it okay if we do it my bed? A little more space there. Think it’ll feel less rushed.”

Obviously yes. You wouldn’t dream of saying no to this man. Not that you wanted to.

The space behind the partition was just a bed and one side table. His bed was neatly made and there was a plant hanging by the opening of the partition. He gestured for you to follow him onto his mattress and he placed his back at the wall, where he had no headboard.

Kneeing up to him you were feeling shy again and he leaned forward and cupped your face with one hand, “You’re doing so good. If you need to stop at any time just say the word. I’m not here to make you do something you don’t want. Okay?”

You nodded, “Yeah. I know. I trust you.”

“Good. Just wanted to remind you is all. I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep going even if I’m enjoying it, which I have a feeling I’m gonna like whatever you do to me.”

You giggled and nodded. He was fluffing up your ego and you hadn’t even really gotten started yet.

Harry started to push his jeans down, lifted his hips to get them off his legs, and then kept his eyes on you as he held his hand out for you to take, “Come here.”

You put your hand in his and let yourself get pulled between his legs as you looked down at the sizable lump under his boxer briefs, “Can we take your jeans off? Kind of want to have you in my lap a little while before we get down to it, yeah?”

You nodded and unhooked your button before pulling your zipper down. Harry’s hands found your hips as you tugged your jeans down and he helped you out of them, leaving you in just your hoodie and panties. Like Harry. He was just in his boxer briefs and his hoodie too.

You crawled into his lap, your thighs straddling his, and sat down as Harry smoothed his hands up and down your thighs, “There we go. This feels nice, having you close like this,” he ran his palms toward your bottom and then back down your thighs to your knees, “How are you feeling?”

You put your palms on his shoulders, “Good. Feel good. And you?”

“I’m feeling great. I’ve got you here in my lap,” he brought a hand up from your thigh to your face, his fingers sliding behind your ear with his thumb at your cheekbone, “And I like you. I think this’ll be fun. Just want you to feel at ease with me.”

You shifted on his lap, getting in closer, “I do feel at ease with you, Harry. You’re really nice.”

“Good. That’s what I want to hear,” his voice was soft as he gently pulled you towards him and pressed his mouth against yours again. His kiss was soft and sultry. Harry was far more sensual than you imagined he would be. Lots of soft touches and reassuring words. And his mouth against yours was addictive.

You moaned when his thumb ran along the edge of your panties at your thigh and you rocked your hips down, pressing your panties-covered pussy over his erection.

He inhaled softly through his teeth and lowered his mouth to your neck where you were melted into him. His warm mouth sponged wet kisses down your pulse point as you lowered a hand to the top of his cock.

He sighed when you began to rub your palm over him and you began to move back. You were ready to get him in your mouth.

“You can bring me out if you want. Or I can do it. Whichever you’re more comfortable with.”

You bit your lip and continued palming over him as you kept your gaze focused on his, “I’ll do it. Do guys like that more?”

He grinned and the dimples that carved into his cheeks had you swooning, “Yeah. Maybe. Depends on the guy but it can feel like the girl is really excited, like she can’t wait – the enthusiasm is nice. For me? I do like it more. But honestly, I wouldn’t complain if you wanted me to do it myself.”

You nodded in understanding as you focused on the dark green material of his underwear and reached toward the waistband. You looked up at him once more to check in and he just gave you a singular nod to keep going so you did.

The material was warm and stretchy. And you loved the way it felt to run your palm up the length of him, before peeling the fabric away and slowly revealing his cock. His tip was thick and smooth and dark pink. And then his shaft was girthy, quite meaty really, but so stiff. And when you’d pulled his underwear down far enough you took the whole of him in and it was… well it was a bit overwhelming. There was no way on God’s green earth you’d be able to stick that whole thing in your mouth.

“You don’t have to have it all in there. This isn’t a porno. I don’t need you to choke on it or anything like that. Use your hands and your mouth, as long as it’s nice and wet it’s gonna feel really good.”

You nodded. It was a relief that he wasn’t expecting you to deepthroat that thing, “Do you like it when someone can take it all the way?”

Harry breathed a laugh out of his nostrils, “Well… only if the person giving head likes that kind of thing. I would never enjoy it if someone wasn’t into that. But yes. I do rather like it. Not more than any other type of blow job, though.”

You gulped and continued palmed at his length softly. Harry kept his eyes on you to watch how you’d do it. To see what your go-to move was and when you made no move he finally spoke, “Go in however you want. Let’s see how you normally go about giving a blow job.”

“Okay. Yeah…” You took a deep breath and lowered yourself down as he fixed his feet flat on the mattress with knees bent upward, making space for you to fit between his thighs. First, you spat over his tip and used your hand to rub your saliva down his shaft. A quick glance up at him and he looked like he was enjoying it.

After spitting another glob over his slit that clung to your lips a little longer than it did the first time things were feeling much wetter. You stroked along the full length of his cock, from base to tip, tip to base, and back again as you lowered further, getting your lips just over his tip, and looked up at him, swiping your tongue over his crown. Smooth and warm. Adjusting your hips you got into a better position and gripped his base with both hands as you began to take him in your mouth. Your tongue cupped the underside of his cock as you dipped down and pulled up, suckling at his tip before repeating.

Harry’s fingers gently pushed at your chin, “I’d like you to do one thing for me, Y/n…” your eyes shot up to his, “Can you keep your eyes on me, just like you’re doing right now?”

You pulled off and nodded, “Yeah. Sorry.”

Harry tutted at you, “You didn’t do anything wrong. Just really fond of your pretty eyes. Personal preference is all.”

Keeping your gaze on his you kissed his tip softly and slowly before tonguing at his frenulum. It was a good thing you were looking at him in that moment because the expression on his face as you ran your tongue along the underside of his cockhead was lascivious and the sudden heat between you two might not have been noticed if you hadn’t been looking at him.

When you lowered your lips over him again, hollowing your cheeks and cupping the underside of his dick with your tongue, he palmed over your cheek and softly thumbed at your temple, “Y/n… fuck… that’s really good. Keep looking at me like this pretty girl.”

The soft touch from his hand and thumb on your face was full of affection and made your heart thunder in your chest. It made you dizzy the way he was looking at you. It was such a lewd act but somehow filled with tenderness.

The drool that leaked out of your mouth and down his shaft allowed your hands to slip around his base, twisting as you bobbed over the first bit of him with your mouth. It seemed like he was really enjoying what you were doing. Having your eyes on him while you were doing it felt more encouraging than embarrassing.

And Harry was very much enjoying what you were doing. He wasn’t all that picky when it came to getting blow jobs. Why would he be? Some hot girl wanted him to show her how to be better? Well, he rarely did much in the way of making someone any better than they already were.

Harry never intended to be known as a sex tutor or a sex guru. He was just a guy who loved sex. A guy who was patient and who really did care about the person he was with, even if it was just a one-time thing (which most of them were). And his line of studies gave him insight many lacked. The more he slept around (safely) the better he got and the more he understood. He put into practice the things he learned in his classes and when he was a Junior after a string of hookups with a group of very popular seniors he started to get a reputation.

It started with comments and discussions on the size of his cock. Then it eventually escalated to him being very good in bed. And how he could always make a woman come (he didn’t always make them come but he certainly tried and he learned the art of allowing sex to just be something that felt good and intimate and didn’t have to end in that elusive orgasm every time).

The first girl who was bold enough to ask him if he’d help her get to know her body better, had told him how she heard he was the best… and that had caught off guard. But he gave it a go. And he wound up enjoying the whole thing so much that when another girl asked him for help he decided there was no harm in going along with it.

He wasn’t trying to take advantage of anyone, as some jealous of his prowess would make it seem. No, he just really wanted to help, he loved that connection and to have it end with sex (in whatever form) was never a bad thing. Mostly he was just having fun and if he could use some of his knowledge and give someone confidence by the end of a “session” then so be it.

When you sucked around him, slurping noises came from between your lips and the skin on his shaft and he moaned, “Oh that’s good…” He gently placed a hand at the back of your neck and nudged his hips upward the slightest when he felt his cock start to throb and balls tightened.

Harry pulled at you to bring you up so you slid your lips from his tip and looked at him with pretty rounded eyes as you sat on your knees.

“You’re perfect. If I had you sucking me off like this every day I’d have no complaints. That’s the work of someone who’s into it and I can tell you are. Got me so close to coming already,” he took your hand and kissed the tops of your knuckles. Yeah, you were already smitten with him. But maybe that was just because you liked his praise so much.

“Thank you,” you grinned shyly.

Harry took the hand he kissed and brought it down between his legs, sliding your fingers on the underside of his balls, “There’s this spot right here. Kind of smooth. Feel that?”

You nodded.

“It’s called the perineum. This spot,” he pressed the pad of your middle finger over the area of skin, “Feels really good when you rub it gently. Especially while you’re also giving a blow job. Maybe take my balls in your palm a little to massage them and then move to the perineum. Just about any man you suck off is gonna absolutely love it. It’s also a really good trick when you just want the guy to come already, ‘cause maybe he’s taking too long,” he grinned.

He dragged your hand up to cup his scrotum and you kept your eyes on his as you softly squeezed. Harry’s brows narrowed and his lips parted, “Let’s do that yeah? Wanna give it a go?”

Nodding, you lowered yourself again, your lips parting around his crown as you gently massaged his balls and kept your eyes angled up toward his. You kept one hand at the base of his shaft and felt the full, warmth of his sac in your palm before you pulled off of his cock and dropped your lips down to his balls, kissing the skin all around and skimming your tongue through every crevice and wrinkle, wetting him on all sides.

You remembered you were supposed to be looking up at him and when you saw his face it only egged you on. His soft groan and pink puffy lips parted in lust with hooded eyes so you wound your tongue down further and pressed the tip of your wet muscle to the spot he called the perineum.

“Fuck! Yes…”

You liked that reaction. So you did it again and used your hand on his shaft to continue pumping him in long strokes as you pressed over the small strip of skin under his scrotum before you brought your tongue all the way up over his balls and to his base. The pre-come dripping from his tip made things wetter as you slid your palm over him.

You kept one finger on his perineum and then brought your mouth back over his cock and the desperate whimper that fell from his lungs made you feel giddy. You sucked him in and flicked your sight up to him but his eyes were closed. You could feel his legs trembling as your shoulder was pressed into his inner thigh. Gently you brought your hand over his scrotum and massaged as you worked his tip with your lips and tongue.

He placed both of his hands on either side of your head, “Y/n… yes… honey I’m gonna come. That’s so good. You’re so good for me… holy shit… where do you want me to come, huh?”

You were kind of amazed at how he was so melty and whimpery from the blow job you were giving him. You lifted and looked up at him, “Just come in my mouth. Want you to feel good.”

He nodded as he panted and you put your lips back on him, lowering down and sucking as you used your tongue to apply pressure to his crown. Continuing to play with his balls and peek up at him you saw the moment his face scrunched up and his lips dropped open wide. No sound came out at first but you tasted the first pump of his come down your throat and then felt his big cock throbbing against your tongue and it was the hottest blow job you’d ever given. And you weren’t even receiving… the reaction he gave you had you so turned on and so dizzy that you felt the need to take him deeper.

You forced yourself down further, feeling his tip nudging and spurting at the top part of your throat and you swallowed around him before sputtering slightly.

When he finally began to moan it was deep and throaty. His head was tilted back, facing the ceiling as he pumped into your mouth and down your throat. The hands he held at the side of your face were gentle and honestly? You were in heaven. You could do this with him every day if he let you.

And you tried not comparing Gunther to Harry but it was hard. Harry was so masculine and his cock was prettier and much bigger. With Gunther, you could almost take all of him in your mouth without much issue. You didn’t but you probably could have. Harry was a different story. His big cock filled up all the space in your mouth and he smelled so good too. It was a mix of what you assumed was his natural smell with a clean powdery soap.

But it was the moans Harry was making that had you feeling so worked up. He really enjoyed your blow job and that was all you needed to feel good about yourself and your ability.

Harry’s moan quieted into a simper as you continued dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock until he lulled his head forward and looked down at you, “S’good. Fuck that was good.” He prodded at you to bring your mouth off of him and you sat back with a proud smile.

He leaned forward to pull at the back of your neck and smash his lips against yours. You clung onto his shoulders as he positioned you next to him on the bed on your bottom and then he ran his hands down your sides and pulled at your sweater, “Can we get this off?”

You gripped the bottom hem of your hoodie as Harry sat back and peeled his sweater off over his head, making you pause so you could devour his chest and his arms, and his abs with your eyes. The tattoos that were scattered over his body and on his arms were no surprise. You’d heard through the grapevine about his tattoos once your roommate told you about him. And you heard he was fit. But this? He was the perfect amount of muscled and beefy. He was lean but he appeared well-fed. Broad shoulders, pecs you could bite into…

You gulped when you felt Harry’s big hands smoothing up and down your limbs as he absorbed the sight of you before you finally pulled your sweater off and then unhooked your bra, holding the cups up against your breasts for a moment to make sure he was still in it. Because maybe your body would be a complete turn off but his expressive face did all the talking and he moved his hands up your hips as his irises roamed over your skin.

“So pretty, Y/n,” he spoke like he knew you needed the reassurance. Which you did. So you slowly lowered your bra and pulled the straps from your arms and almost immediately Harry ducked down and kissed your right nipple while his hand palmed at your left tit. He moaned against your soft flesh and you felt cool air hit your skin in the path where his tongue laved against you.

A soft gasp fell from your lips when he wrapped his mouth over your nipple and looked up at you from his spot, pink lips suckling at your breast. It was almost as if he needed to make sure he was doing what you liked. As if the man wasn’t some kind of expert.

Harry’s bulky body moved over you and his hands brushed over the skin at your sides and down to your hips where your panties clung tight. You lifted your hips, ready for him to take care of you, ready to have him pull the last bit of fabric from your body and Harry grinned at you.

“I’m gonna pull these down, okay?”

Nodding you laughed in slight nervousness. You weren’t sure when you’d gotten so eager but giving Harry a blow job had made you a bit insatiable and all of the nice things he said about you, how good you were... Your insides were aching and you knew you were probably already wet, the crotch of your panties was warm against your skin.

And as he slowly dragged the material down your legs he kept looking up at you. A little bit of reassurance that he was only going to go as far as you wanted.

Paying close attention to his eyes you watched him drag his gaze over all your crevices and then up to your tits and then your eyes as he licked his lips. He wrapped a hand on the underside of your calf, lifting your leg the smallest bit as he tucked himself in closer, his shoulders pressing into your thighs.

The warm, soft kisses he dotted on your inner thigh as he looked up at you made you feel worshiped. Like he was savoring the moment and was going to take his time with you.

“Y/n, I just want to make you feel good. Tell me if you don’t like something or if you need something more okay? Because you did so good for me and I’m gonna be dreaming about those lips on me. Just want to make you feel as good as good as you made me feel.”

Harry could tell you liked a bit of praise. A compliment here and there was easy enough to throw in because it was all true. You were very good and you were so pretty and now he was going to return the favor as best he could.

When you felt his tongue swipe up through your crease you moaned faintly as you kept your eyes on him. And when he dug in more, attached his lips to your pussy, and began sucking at you the groan that fell from his chest rumbled through your core and you held on to the back of his head as you arched your back off of the pillow under yourself. His lips slicked up and down, tongue pressing at your clit and then he moved, bringing his arm in and you felt his fingers prodding at your entrance as he looked up at you, pulling his mouth away from your pussy, “Tastes so good, Y/n. Could bury my face here all day long. You mind if I finger you a little? Would that feel good?”

He ran his digits through your folds like he already knew your answer and you nodded quickly, “Yeah. Okay. If you want.”

He grinned before you felt him push his middle finger past your opening and then he watched the face you made as he curled his finger up in your magic little spot. The one only your rabbit vibrator seemed to be able to hit.

You gasped and with that, he brought his lips back over your clit and got to work. His dark curls were smooth and thick between your fingers and the way he kept pulling his gaze up to yours as he licked into you was naughty. The whole scene was something from a dream. There was something so soft about how he kept his eyes on you to check-in.

You’d had a couple of guys go down on you before but they had no idea what they were doing and you weren’t sure if it was just supposed to feel like slippery nothing gliding over your labia or not. But now, with Harry doing the work… well you realized what it was actually meant to feel like. And Harry was not giving you slippery nothing.

He seemed to enjoy it as well which made your heart lurch in your chest. Especially with how he was moaning into you like you tasted good. And he had told you as much, which… that had you on edge already.

When Harry slid in a second finger he opened his mouth wide and tongued up from where his fingers were pumping into you to your clit.

You couldn’t help the pathetic moans that were loudly bouncing off the walls of his studio, “Oh god, Harry…”

But the thing that was really seeping into your skin and your veins and making your heart pound was his eyes on yours. You couldn’t get over it. It was so intimate and sexy and the gushy noises coming from your slippery pussy were lewd and dirty. It was the perfect juxtaposition of just nasty enough but also sweet and soft that had you spiraling.

When they tell you that the biggest part of getting turned on is all in the mind, that’s absolutely true. Harry was a master at it. You weren’t sure you’d ever been so turned on with any man before. He really knew which buttons to push and all the right things to say.

“Fuck, that’s good… holy shit, Harry…”

He loved hearing you whine his name and the feel of your hips bucking upward in tiny bursts. You were one of those girls that was going to have an orgasm, he just knew it. The way you kept getting wetter every time you shot your eyes down to his was a big telltale sign. Some didn’t like the eye contact but he loved it and so did you, clearly.

He moaned into your pussy and swallowed you down as he worked his tongue in teasing circles around your clit before wrapping his lips around you again and smushing down over you with just the right amount of pressure.

The arm he had under your thigh he wrapped under your lower back, pulling you in closer if that was possible, as he continued fingering you with his other hand. The man was unquenchable. Like he needed to stuff his face in as close as humanly possible. Like he needed to suck you dry and make it so that you never forgot his name.

Your insides were melting for him. His fingers were magic inside of you and it had your brain all fuzzed out and blurry. But the way he rolled your clit under his tongue was divine, otherworldly… he knew what he was doing with that big mouth of his.

You gasped and looked back down at him again and his eyes were already pinned to yours.

“Oh… gonna co… oh fuck, gonna come…” you felt like you were being lifted into the air, levitating and vibrating off the bed and out of the atmosphere as he kept his fingers and his tongue steady. But when he moaned deeply into your cunt, that low resonate sensation traveling from your clit to your core and through your tummy made you lose control.

You didn’t realize you were yanking his hair as your legs quaked and your body liquified under him. But it didn’t deter him. He watched you unravel, tits bouncing and back arching as you orgasmed into his mouth and he curled his fingers up against your g-spot as you clamped over his digits.

If he didn’t have his mouth occupied he would have praised you more in that moment. Told you how pretty you were and how good you did for him. But he waited until you began to slowly come back to earth before whispering into your ear the sweet things he knew you’d like to hear.

He laid next to you and grasped your face, kissing your lips softly as you sighed, “So fucking good. What a pretty orgasm that was, Y/n…” He spoke between kisses.

“Did that all for me? Yeah?”

You couldn’t answer him. Not in that moment. You’d just melted and dissolved and had only begun to re-solidify and become a real human with lungs and limbs and skin and pores again.

“You are really fun to eat out, Y/n. Tasted so nice and you sound so sexy when you come. You can call me anytime you need a release okay?” He continued kissing your cheek and your lips as he spoke softly.

Harry didn’t rush you out like you thought he might. He rubbed over your tummy and kissed your breasts softly and ran his lips up the side of your neck as you slowly opened your eyes and sighed.

“Feel okay?”

You nodded and smiled, “Really good.”

“Stay as long as you want. Okay? No rush. We can even grab dinner together if you want or I can make you something.” Harry wasn’t sure why he asked you that. While he didn’t usually rush anyone out, he didn’t typically offer food or dinner either. There was just something about you that compelled him to ask. Perhaps he hoped you’d stick around a bit longer.

You sat up, “Oh. That’s really nice of you. But… maybe I should probably head back. Get some schoolwork done.”

You’d have loved to stay for dinner but you also didn’t want to get your feelings mixed up for a guy like Harry. Not that there was anything wrong with him, but you understood what this was. A one-time thing. Something fun where you got to learn a thing or two. If you stuck around too long you’d probably just want more. And that would only end in heartbreak for you. Because Harry was kind of the ideal guy in a lot of ways.

“Of course. Just thought I’d ask.”

There were no hard feelings for this kind of thing. Harry wasn’t offended that you didn’t want to stay. He’d had a good time with you and he was almost certain you had a good time as well. And that was just about all one could ask for.

Harry let you use his bathroom to clean up and get dressed. And as you did so you thought about how Gunther didn’t even offer you anything to eat or to stay after. In fact he didn’t even ask if you wanted to use his bathroom, when that would have been nice after giving him head. Because even though Gunther didn’t really touch you, you were still wet, and walking back to your dorm with wet panties was not a nice feeling. Especially when you didn’t even get anything out of it.

You’d be wary of Gunther. You’d give him another shot because you were a nice girl but you weren’t going to ignore the concerns Harry had. Perhaps Harry was right.

When you stepped out of the bathroom Harry handed you a glass of water, “Drink a little before you head out, and what dorm do you live in?” He looked down at his phone as he asked.

“Oh… uh the Millennium dorms near the arts building.”

He nodded as you took a gulp of the water and he showed you his phone, “Uber will be here for you in three minutes. I’ll walk you down, okay?”

“Wait. You didn’t have to do that! Um… I can walk or get an Uber myself it’s–“

He shook his head and grinned, “I know I didn’t have to but it’s getting late. Don’t want you walking twenty minutes by yourself. Who knows what could be lurking out there,” he laughed.

You pointed at him, “Fine. But I’m gonna pay you back. Next time I see you okay?”

“Not necessary. Now come on,” he playfully swatted at your bottom and directed you toward his door, “Let’s go downstairs and wait for…” he looked at his phone, “Rebecca in a white Trail Blazer.”

PART 2 COMING SOON

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[ms-demeanor]

You posted about adhd and I was hoping to follow up to clarify something. I’ve explained to my partner a million times about how the borderline-hoarding mess of his space is very mentally draining to me, and he understands but we’ve both essentially accepted he won’t clean his mess because he can’t because of his adhd. You’re saying he’s actually being a shit head?

This isn't necessarily an issue of him being a shithead, but it also isn't a sustainable situation. It's not good for you and there's a level of clutter that's probably not good for him either.

Large bastard is a lot more clutter-y than I am. The solution we've come to is trying to keep our messes at least isolated from one another; he can have his messes and I can have mine, but he can have those messes in his spaces, not all over the place. Sometimes those messes migrate, and that's when it's important for him to make the effort to rein them in rather than trying and failing to make a daily effort to keep our entire shared space tidy.

I think when you say "we've both essentially accepted he won't clean his mess" what I'm hearing is resignation; you're not happy about this but you don't know what to do so you've thrown up your hands and he feels helpless and unsure of what to do to improve the situation. This is the kind of "it's fine" that isn't really fine.

I think it would be worthwhile for you to each separately think about the mess and talk about it together. Are there areas that YOU *need* to have not-messy? Both for utility and your mental health? Are there areas where you can tolerate more mess than otherwise? Are there areas that are going to be harder for him to keep the mess out of than others? Are there things he doesn't *know* about cleaning up the mess?

I'm obviously a big "communication communication communication" person so I'm going to recommend a lot of talking about stuff, which is probably going to mean a lot of thinking about and interrogating stuff. I'm going to say "talk to him about why the mess bothers you" which means you also have to really articulate to yourself why the mess bothers you (for instance I'm not actually *bothered* by a messy kitchen, but I know it's going to reflect badly on us - and me specifically b/c of presumed gender roles - if someone pops by and the kitchen is a disaster, AND a messy kitchen is going to be harder to use). Genuinely, sometimes knowing *why* something is a problem might make it easier for someone with ADHD to do something. And it's not that he doesn't care that it upsets you, it's just that "Oh if I don't wash my breakfast dishes Anon won't have clear counterspace to make lunch" might be stickier in his brain (and less hard to look at emotionally) than "this thing I forget to do upsets my partner so I should do it."

For the record, I think that people with ADHD should read up on Demand Avoidance and see if it might explain some of the issues that they have in their day-to-day life; I've seen some really unfortunate situations with friends where trying to do things that their partner needed became the subject of demand avoidance. *I* have experienced negative outcomes of demand avoidance. The solution to that, however, isn't to stop making attempts to do the thing OR to simply try harder to do as they're asked/told (which reinforces the demand), it's to work on setting up a situation where the partners' needs are not interpreted as a demand. This is fuck-off difficult and requires a lot of patience and care and many attempts to succeed and will be different for each person and relationship.

(Also for the record demand avoidance isn't *super* strongly linked to ADHD and it's not a definitive symptom; like Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, it is something that occurs in some number of people with ADHD and can be a useful lens through which to examine various behaviors; you don't need to have DA or RSD to have ADHD, and having DA or RSD also doesn't invalidate your diagnosis; they're symptoms. For me, DA often feels like "if I don't look at it, it can't get me" - If I ignore all the messages I've got they aren't real and don't have real consequences so I'll just ignore my texts. If I don't look at the vendor email about the order, the problem with the order isn't real and it won't get added to my task list. If I don't look at the requests in my inbox I can't let people down when I don't do them. It's a self-protective coping mechanism but it's *maladaptive* and I can't just ignore the vendor email or all my texts. I need to work on a way of doing the stuff that I'm avoiding in a way that makes it less stressful and doesn't hurt the people relying on me. That takes a lot of effort, personal insight, trial and error, and )

But before I dive into specifics I want to be really really clear about one thing: sometimes people are simply incompatible. Sometimes one person has such a low tolerance for "mess" and the other person has such a high threshold for "mess" that it can't be reconciled. It sucks that this can end up being a thing that people break up over, but it is MUCH better to acknowledge incompatibility as early as possible instead of spending years and years building resentment.

There used to be a great forum called MiL's Anonymous that I spent a lot of time on. It had a lot of people in a lot of difficult situations struggling to get by and hold their relationships together. The question that was used as a litmus test to approach each situation was simple: If you knew today that everything about living with this person would be the same in five years, would you stay?

Because you can't control your partner. You can't control the future. You can only control yourself and your proximity to situations that are harmful to you. If you knew, 100%, that things wouldn't get better in five years, would you be okay with staying in this relationship? If the answer is "no," then that's that. Don't worry about questions of whether or not your boyfriend is a shithead, start the process of ending the relationship because there's a good chance the situation is going to be exactly the same in five years.

If the answer is "yes," and you'd stay in the relationship regardless of whether or not things changed, then it's time to take actions to improve your life within the context of the relationship.

(No judgement on that yes or no, btw. If you would hate living like this for another five years, and you would feel like you'd wasted your time and hadn't done the things you wanted to with your life, get out. Bail. Go. It will be better for you and better for your partner if you split instead of spending half a decade building resentments and and problems that you'll have to spend another half a decade healing from.)

Also, a note: you describe your boyfriend's mess as borderline hoarding - is the issue *mess* or is the issue *clutter*? I have friends who are very tidy, but whose homes are very cluttered. They like things, they have many things, they keep many things around, but their houses are always clean and well-dusted and orderly, just with a tremendous amount of *stuff.* I am addressing all of this as though the issue is mess, not clutter. If your boyfriend's situation is clutter (the space is busy and packed with things but it is functional and clean) and your issue isn't with *mess* (things out of place, things not having a place, things that need to be cleaned up gathering in stacks, falling behind on regular chores like laundry and dishes and taking out the trash) then you definitely need to assess whether or not you are compatible.

For instance here's a room that is messy but not cluttered compared to a room that is cluttered but not messy:

That first room is a *mess* but it would be very easy to clean up in under an hour. The second room is fairly tidy, but would take significant effort to pare down and declutter. BOTH of these can be difficult to live with but the second one is not dangerous or threatening to anyone's health. (The second one is QUITE cluttered and if every room in a house looks like this it can be overwhelming to live with; this is actually harder to deal with in a relationship than the first one in a lot of ways. I don't have a lot of advice for what to do if your partner is a high degree of tidy-but-cluttered because I don't actually think it's a problem or wrong to have thousands of books or bins full of lego or a million kitchen appliances as long as you have the space and can keep it safe and well-maintained; this is a really significant compatibility issue)

Okay, all that out of the way, here's the hard work.

Talk about this shit

Talk to your partner and define "mess." Make sure you are on the same page about what you mean when you're talking about what a messy room looks like versus what a tidy room looks like. Gather reference pictures. DRAW reference pictures.

Explain not just that the mess upsets you, but *why* and *how* it upsets you. In this context don't think of it as your boyfriend's mess, think of it as an unpleasant roommate. Discuss this using "I-statements". "When I have to pick up laundry all over the apartment, I feel like a parent more than a partner." "When there are piles of miniatures all over the table, I feel like I don't have anywhere to do things I'm interested in." "When there are dishes in the sink, I feel frustrated because I have to clean before I can feed myself."

Discuss, frankly and openly, whether he knows how to clean. I'm not trying to make excuses for him here but a lot of people with ADHD have a lot of stress and avoidance around cleaning because they spent a lot of time getting yelled at for not knowing how to clean properly.

Discuss your needs, be firm about what you require but willing to compromise. You *need* some spaces to be clean, and some spaces may be harder for him to keep clean than others. It may be MUCH harder for him to keep a bedroom tidy than it is to keep a kitchen tidy; if you need a clean and empty bedroom with everything put away and he simply cannot do that, that is a compatibility issue. But perhaps you need *your* side of the bedroom to be very orderly and can tolerate a moderate level of mess and clutter on his side. Maybe you're really really bothered by a messy kitchen, but it doesn't bug you if the dining table is covered with projects and papers. Figure out something more workable than "his mess goes everywhere and i live with it because he's incapable of cleaning" because he probably is not incapable of cleaning and you deserve to have places in your home that are comfortable for you.

Reduce friction for cleaning

Sometimes the problem isn't cleaning, the problem is the many many steps before cleaning, or not knowing where something should go when you are done cleaning. One of the absolute best things I've done for myself for cleaning my space is getting a broom holder and mounting the broom to the wall. Sweeping is now essentially thoughtless. I don't have to find the broom or pull it out from a pile of fans or go scrounging around for a dustpan it's right there on the wall, frictionless. So here are some ways to reduce the barriers to cleaning:

Make sure you and your partner both know how to use your cleaning supplies and know where those supplies are. When I switched dishwasher soap I had to re-show Large Bastard where I was storing it and how it was used, because to him what happened was the dishwasher tabs just vanished one day and he didn't know what I was putting in the machine or the process I used. He sometimes puts tools away in places that I can't see (he's more than a foot taller than me) so sometimes I can't get started on a maintenance project until he shows me where he put the battery pack for the drill.

Consider making a how-to chart to or having him make a how-to chart to keep someplace accessible so he can reference it while cleaning. Goblin.Tools Magic ToDo is great for this. Basically a lot of the time people with ADHD have trouble knowing what to do from step to step even if they've done something before, so having a step by step guide can make it easier (I have notebooks full of step-by-step guides for everything from paying for my tuition to removing licenses for my customers to weeding my yard)

Remove obstacles; don't keep cleaning chemicals in the garage in a box that's behind a stack of parts, keep them in the room you'll be cleaning. Don't keep the cleaning supplies that you use to clean the bathroom in the kitchen. Sometimes this means buying two bottles of bleach solution and two scrubbers and two sets of cleaning gloves but having fewer steps (fetch the windex, fetch the paper towels, fetch the gloves) is often the key to getting things done (open under-sink cabinet and grab windex, gloves, and paper towels that are there instead of in the kitchen).

This sort of overlaps with the next category, which is:

Create Dump Zones

One thing that I've found that seems very different between people with ADHD cleaning and neurotypical people cleaning is that neurotypical people are good at getting to a point where the cleaning is "done." They have checked off their tasks and they have finished and it is over. There are *SOME* chores that are like this (taking out the trash is a binary state, the trash has been taken out or it has not) and some chores are perpetual (horrid cursed dishes) but I think with people with ADHD, some chores that are binary for neurotypicals are actually perpetual chores. For instance "clean off the counter" is not a one and done for me. "Clean off the counter" may involve a three day reorganization project. "Clean off the counter" does not mean "wipe down the tile and put dishes away" it means assessing whether or not I need to make vegetable stock and bleaching three tea containers and reconsidering whether or not the sharps container should live somewhere else and going through the mail and figuring out what needs to be responded to and taking out the recycling and on and on and on.

We have had company at the house for the last two weeks, so I asked large bastard to clean off the dining room table, which is largely a project zone for him. Cleaning off the dining room table meant putting away his meds (and since he's a transplant patient that involves a 30 gallon rubbermade tote), throwing away some trash, and totally reorganizing his workshop. It also incidentally involved picking up a table from facebook marketplace and moving my plants, which has now involved moving my former plant rack outside (moving buckets, finding and organizing planters and gardening tools) and taking the former table to the thrift store (not done yet) and cleaning the rug that was under the former table. So "either the table is clean, or it isn't" isn't really true for us.

HOWEVER "hang on we can't eat until the table is clear so let's drive to Pico Rivera to get that console table right now" isn't a workable plan, so you create dumpzones as areas of holding between the start and the finish of the chore.

A dump zone can be a laundry basket. It can be a craft bin. It can be a back room or under your bed. It is a place to put things that you are going to deal with later because if you deal with them now it is going to derail the thing you are actually trying to do, which is set the table for dinner.

Dump zones are vital to cleaning with ADHD and I recommend them for day-to-day cleaning as well. The day-to-day dump zones might be more for you than for your boyfriend. For instance, Large Bastard works with bullets and he sheds bullets all over the house. I used to get stressed when I found bullets when I was cleaning because are these work bullets? Are these recreational bullets? Are they in testing? Do they need to be pulled? Do they go in the workshop or the office or the garage or does he need these today so they have to stay on the counter? And the answer now is "that's not my problem naughty bullets go in the jar." Which is perfectly sensible because he gets to say "mystery yarn goes in the bin" and "art supplies go in the bucket."

I feel helpless when cleaning a lot of the time. I'm frustrated and lost and I don't know where stuff goes and everything I pick up spins off into three projects in my head and every step feels like a wall to scale. Dump zones help me with that when there's pressure or a reason for cleaning beyond day to day home maintenance. People are coming over? The bedroom is a dump zone, I'll deal with that later. I'm just cleaning up because I need to? Okay I can find a permanent home for this new dish soap.

AS A VERY IMPORTANT COROLLARY TO THIS:

Active projects do not go in dump zones while you or your partner are cleaning. This may mean designating a project sanctuary area like a corner of the table or one particular chair in your main room where a project can be placed so as not to be disturbed. (if my current crochet project ends up in the yarn bin, that may mean that I don't pick the project up for another three months, it lives on the windowsill behind the couch because that's where it'll get worked on)

Do not put things away for your partner, put them in the dump zone for your partner. Your partner has to be the one to put their own stuff away in a way that works for them. I tend to find that this naturally puts a limit on the time stuff sits in the dump zone, because eventually you'll go "hey where's my thing?" and will put stuff away. If that doesn't happen, it's still generally better to have stuff in a dump zone than all over the home.

Do not decide you know what things go together from your partner's stuff and try to "put like things together." The neurotypical urge to put like things together is the mindkiller(j/k). You do not know which things are "similar" in your partner's organization schema and attempting to organize things on your own is going to end up with all of the things "organized" being functionally lost forever from your partner's perspective. Large Bastard's mom would do this and it was infuriating, she'd say "oh I put all the electronics stuff in one box" and she would mean soldering irons, transistors, ham radios, HDMI cables, and cellphone chargers. We are *still* going through boxes of stuff that she "tidied up" when he was hospitalized in 2020 and 2021.

To prevent the need for quite so many dump zones over time, you can work on setting up landing zones and "homes" for projects and tools.

Landing Zones

Landing zones are places where things go when you come inside from doing various things. Sometimes your landing zone only needs to be a tray for your wallet and keys, sometimes your landing zone needs to be a place to take off muddy boots and put a trowel and gloves down before you shower.

To make an effective landing zone, consider what behaviors you're trying to minimize and whether the people using it are ACTUALLY going to use it. For instance I was tired of the corner of my hearth getting cluttered with random junk so I hung up some hooks and put a shelf and a basket there and it became a really effective landing zone for my bag and keys and the mail, but it was VERY ineffective for Large Bastard because it's by a door that isn't the primary door he uses to enter the house. As a result I always know where my keys and bag are but he has trouble finding his keys and wallet. He tends to enter the house through our bedroom and has an overloaded valet next to the door and that's usually where his wallet ends up. Mounting a shelf to the wall above the valet and putting a basket and a hook on it will be a better place for his stuff to land. It's not that he's not using the first zone because he doesn't know that it's there, or because he doesn't care about lost time when I'm searching for my car keys after he borrows them, he's not using it because it's not by the door he uses. That's all.

I have a landing space for when I come in for gardening that's different than the one when I come in from grocery shopping. I have a landing space for when I walk into the dining room instead of the kitchen when I get home.

Landing spaces prevent stuff from piling up all over the place because they are a limited functional space that should be used frequently. Mail ONLY goes in the landing zone. If you have mystery mail or if you're not sure it's safe to toss, you put it in the landing zone. You can't let the mail get piled up too high or you won't have a space for your keys. You can't let the change in your wallet tray get too deep or your wallet is going to slide off, etc., but you also don't just put change on the coffee table or your nightstand because the landing zone is right there.

Homes for items are just what they sound like. They're the place the item goes. It lives there. My meds live on my nightstand. You would not believe how poorly I did with taking my meds on my vacation because they weren't on my nightstand. A while back large bastard lost one of his sets of sorted meds and we tore the house up looking for them because he couldn't find them in his nightstand, which is where they live. *I* found them in his nightstand because I emptied out the entire top drawer (he had only looked on the top layer) and found them underneath a radio and a hammock. Even though they were *hidden* they were in their home, so they were findable. I recently needed ink for an art class. Art supplies live in a dresser by my desk. Ink lives in the art bin or the top left drawer. The ink was not in either of these places (it was on a cabinet in the dining room behind a teacup) so it took me weeks to find it.

Sometimes the reason that ADHD spaces are so messy is because objects have been assigned homes in places that are visible and if they get moved they get lost. This is a genuinely difficult problem that requires a lot of effort to solve and can involve a lot of trial and error for creating a tidy living space. For some people, open shelving and visible storage might be a good solution. For some people, assigning a VERY clear home and inculcating that location by habit is the only way to clean up a space. For some people one very cluttered corner to at least isolate the chaos does the trick (for me and large bastard open shelving doesn't work because anything in one place for too long becomes invisible; that means that I rely on assigning things homes and large bastard relies on having contained chaos and a general idea of where to search but what that DOES NOT mean is that he is clean or tidy. His spaces look like an explosion. But he can mostly find his stuff and do what he needs to do and as long as that's limited to specific places in shared spaces I can live with it; the dining room table can be a disaster, the kitchen cannot).

People organize things differently. It often takes a while for neurotypical adults to settle into an organizational style that works for them and ADHD adults may need to settle into a new system every few months for it to continue working. The cleanup and declutter is most likely going to be a permanent project that is always going to demand some level of attention from everyone in a shared space, but "my ADHD means I can't do it" is not really going to fly. Maybe his ADHD means that he can't keep his space tidy, but it doesn't mean you can't move stuff from shared spaces into dump zones or that he can't do stuff around the house.

If he's insisting that his ADHD means that he can't clean it is possible that he's not being a shithead, he just feels helpless and doesn't know where to start and has adopted the belief that he's a useless piece of shit who can't even keep a tidy space like a grownup because he's internalized a lot of shitty attitudes (hello, my internal monologue about keeping a clean house). But it's also possible that he's just being a shithead.

It's something that's worthwhile to investigate with him. If he's unwilling to make an attempt, then he's being a shithead.

It is also not your responsibility to rehabilitate another person. If he wants to clean and it's something he feels bad about and needs some help and support with the way that someone might need help or support for learning to use a mobility aid, that is fine but you don't have to be the one who gives him that support if it's detrimental to your health, and you don't have to be the one to teach him that stuff if it's not something you're capable of. And if he is NOT interested in working on making your shared living space more accessible for you, that is not your suitcase to unpack and you just have to ask yourself the question from the start: would I stay with this person if I knew the situation was never going to change?

IDK, I'm sure a lot of this reads like "anon you must take on the emotional labor of training your partner to be an adult" but it's really meant to be more of a way of assessing yourself and your relationship. If you created landing zones do you think he'd use them? Would he get angry if you assigned a laundry basket as a dump zone for his stuff while you tidy the living room? Is living with him long-term going to be comfortable for you if nothing changes? Do you have enough of a shared definition of "mess" that you're at least in the ballpark for what counts as a clean house?

anyway good luck, and a reminder to folks that I'm compiling a bunch of adhd resources and other information on my personal website, ms-demeanor.com. It's coming along slowly but it will eventually include stuff like ADHD cleaning tips and how to tackle a hoard, so maybe keep your eye on that space.

[nerdpoe]

A Favor for a Gift

Danny's new to the superhero scene, and he gets on rather well with Martian Manhunter.

He decides to give J'onn a gift, because he came across J'onn in a melancholy mood, and the Martian explained that he was homesick. Danny learned a lot about Mars and Martian culture, after telling him that he could vent to Danny if he wanted, and wants to do a little something to help J'onn out.

He goes to the Zone, searching for Martian ghosts to talk with. He finds Ghostwriter. Or rather, Ghostwriter finds him.

He proposes a deal.

He'll let Danny have two very old, very rare Martian books; but in exchange, Danny owes him. Big Time.

Danny....asks what the favor would be, cuz he's not about to agree to that without knowing what he's agreeing to.

Ghostwriter needs Danny to go enter into a Ghost Fighting Competition, the biggest in the Zone, because the prize is a book that not only does Ghostwriter not have, but the only copy of it's kind ever.

Danny agrees; he kicks ghost ass all the time, a fighting competition shouldn't be a problem. Pff. He'll be fine.

Okay he's a little nervous.

He pushes it down.

He gets one of the books early, as trade for even entering the competition in the first place, and rushes to give it to J'onn.

He's trying to psych himself up for the fight, but his intrusive thoughts keep making him remember the fights he's lost. He's just not good with stage fright! Fighting as a hero is one thing, but fighting in a competition is nervewracking!

~~~~

J'onn, getting a surface read of Phantom's mind, is concerned.

Due to Phantom being dead, not all of his thoughts are...legible. J'onn only gets flashes here or there, maybe emotions.

J'onn just got a flash of a coliseum, with stands filled to the brim, and another flash of Phantom losing in a fight.

Phantom is nervous.

Phantom, who's powers are so strong he can fight on equal footing with Superman, is nervous.

It is not the normal anxiety he can feel from the young ghost, it is something else.

Phantom tells him that he knows where another book is, he just needs to win it.

J'onn has heard of how Vicious Infinite Realms Ghosts can be, and it is reasonable to assume that Phantom being nervous is a direct result of a fight he knows he can't win.

A fight he's going to try to win anyways. For the sake of a book.

Phantom is worth more than a simple book.

Phantom disappears before J'onn can request that he not do that, leaving the Martian standing there with a book older than he is, with the knowledge that one of his friends is about to face...something. Some sort of danger.

And all J'onn can do is wait.

Naturally, he refuses to do that and calls the JLD to track down Phantom.

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #phanfic #story prompt #royal rumble au #martian manhunter hunts down phantom #he is very worried about his ghostly friend #by the time jld gets him to the infinite realms he realizes he shouldn't be #he instead decides to watch the fights as moral support #he is very proud of phantom #look at him go beating up ghosts four to five times his size

[mewjimewjimewji]

i love dungeon meshi and the way it views people in a way i grew to think no one else ever would. the way it frames bodies and nudity without it needing to be inherently sexual, and any fanservice or sexualization there is only feels very honest rather than perverse. the neutral way things like the harpies or humanoid monsters have exposed boobs and nipples. or the farcille bath scene being fanservice in a way but feeling intimate in an entirely different way than that to me. it feels so removed from the weight of the way others view people with beauty standards and other imposed characteristics—yet it paints people as beautiful around its own definition based on the way people actually are. the way it frames human beings as a whole, as living like any animal does with universal and inescapable needs. no matter how we see ourselves we still get hungry, we still get hurt, we still get sleepy, we still get thirsty. the characters have magic and anime fighting strength but remain as fragile as any living thing, being able to be killed in one shot. and every shape the different characters take with their diverse bodies is drawn with equal appreciation for their form. there are many things dungeon meshi feels passionate about, such as how clearly invested ryoko kui had to be in zoology and stuff for a lot of worldbuilding, but that wouldnt be complete without this touch too. i just love how much this series was clearly created by someone deeply in love with and invested in human beings.

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dunmeshi #ryoko kui #perhaps it is because im kinda ace and aro that i feel this way #but even the fanservice feels like sincere appreciation and connection #rather than objectification #or it is senshi tripping with his balls out but that can coexist

[badjokesbyjeff]

There were three race horses; ernie, bill, and ted. 

the three of them were good friends; they enjoyed racing each other and generally won and lost to each other equally. every evening, after the races, they went to a local bar to relax and drink some beer. they would often discuss racing techniques, their families, etc.

one season, bill wasn't doing so well. he rarely beat the other two, and was worried that he'd be sent to the glue factory if his luck didn't change. one night, at the bar, he talked with ernie and ted about it.

"you know, guys, i just can't figure it out," he said. "everything's fine at home; the kids are doing great, my wife is being nice, the bills are paid, my mother-in-law rarely visits - nothing could be better. maybe i'm just getting old. if things don't pick up soon, they'll send me to the glue factory."

the bartender, a big llama from peru, overheard the conversation. he looked around, to make sure nobody else was listening, then said, "hey, pal, i got something for you that'll make you feel like a young colt again." he reached under the bar and pulled out an unlabeled bottle of beer. "here, drink this; i guarantee you'll start winning again. come by each night for a week and I'll give you one. if it doesn't work, i'll give you double your money back!"

bill looked at ernie and ted, who only shrugged, then drank the contents of the bottle. "oh, just one thing," the llama said, "it'll make your ass itch, but that's okay; it's just a side effect. don't worry about it." the three horses stayed a few hours, played a few games of pool and darts, and went home.

over the course of the next three days, they went back to the bar each night, and bill continued the regimen of mystery beer. his racing times did improve! he was slowly moving back up in the rankings, and was soon back into the top three with ernie and ted. bill was ecstatic, and thanked the llama profusely.

"hey, my pleasure," said the llama.

a few weeks passed by, and ernie started slowing down. after losing three races in a row, he sobbed to himself, "i just don't get it. my life couldn't be better. i can't believe I'm getting old! they'll send me to the glue factory if i don't get back in the groove!"

that evening, at the bar, he told the llama bartender about his troubles, and asked if he too could try the mystery beer. "okay, but remember, it'll make your ass itch - but don't pay it no mind. it's just a harmless side effect."

"no problem. it'll be worth it to get back in the groove," ernie said.

a few days went by. ernie's ass did indeed itch, but after a few more days, his races improved, and he was back in the top three with bill and ted.

at the bar one evening, ernie bought a round of beers for all the horses, and thanked the llama profusely.

"i just can't believe how great that mystery beer worked!" ernie said. "you're sitting on a gold mine, there!" the llama said it was his pleasure, don't worry about it, etc.

a few more weeks went by, and now ted started slowing down, losing races. he, too realized that he'd be shipped off to the glue factory unless his races improved.

"say," he said to the llama one night after a particularly humiliating loss, "i think i need to try that mystery beer too. they'll ship me off to the glue factory for sure if I don't start winning again."

"no problem," the llama said, pulling out an unlabeled bottle. "here. come back every night, and i guarantee you'll be back in top form again, or i'll give you double your money back."

over the course of the next few weeks, ted's races continued to improve until he was back in the top three with bill and ernie. he pranced into the bar, full of vim and vigor, and thanked the llama profusely. "you know, my ass itches a lot; it's almost unbearable. but i can't thank you enough. they would have turned me into glue by now if it weren't for you. anything you want, let me know and i'll see what i can do."

"no problem," said the llama, "i make this beer at home using an ancient inca recipe. it's just my way of thanking my regular customers for their patronage over the years."

"i'm not kidding," ted said, "this is the greatest thing that's ever happened to me. anything, you name it, anything you want, let me know, and it's yours."

"well, now that you mention it..." the llama began -

right then, a greyhound walked up to the bar. he was obviously depressed.

"barkeep, give me something strong. i'm on a losing streak you wouldn't believe," the greyhound said.

ted looked at the greyhound, then at bill and ernie, and said, "hey, look! a talking dog!"

#funny #jokes #humor #lol #comedy

[andhumanslovedstories]

I try to answer other people’s call lights if I’m not busy, because if my work is done and I’ve helped out with other people’s work, I can fully commit to slacking off guilt free. And usually what people want is bathroom, snacks, and/or pain meds, all of which are pretty easy to address and if there’s anything too complicated, I can always call the nurse. Anyway, I go answer this call light, and it’s for a patient I don’t know and have never spoken to before. I pop in like “hi can I help you?” as I feel so quietly smug about how Helpful I am being, and the patient goes, “do you know if I’m dying tonight? If I am, I should call my family.”

To be so clear. I was expecting like. a request for a ginger ale. I was not prepared emotionally for a very sick stranger grappling with the angst of potentially imminent death. So I go, “UMMM. I DON’T KNOW. LEMME CHECK WITH YOUR NURSE AND SEE IF SHE KNOWS.” This seemed heinously inadequate in the face of their obvious despair, so I added, “probably not in the next ten minutes if you’re able to sit up and ask, but I can’t make any promises.”

Don’t think that was the ideal follow up sentence. But it didn’t seem to make the patient any sadder than they already were. I used to really live in fear of being the nurse in someone’s anecdote about a wildly inappropriate thing said to them by their nurse. It’s not so much as I’ve gotten over that fear as I’ve accepted that my job thrusts me into a lot of situations where I have to talk about extremely intense topics to the people most intimately affected by those topics, often with no time, no prep, and no information. At this point, I just try my best to ground my inarticulate fumblings in as much genuine care as I can express, and thank God I don’t fuck up worse and more often.

#also I did a pt assessment don’t worry I know sense of impeding doom is Symptom #nursing tag

[angelltheninth]

Hello! I hope you can write about retired sorcerer nanami;)

One old man Nanami coming right up!

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, fluff, waking up together, retirement, talking about starting a family, babyfever, use of condoms, creampie, sharing chores, kissing, Nanami Kento is a gentleman

A/N: He'a not old he's just... dilf material okay?

Retired!Nanami Kento needs to be bullied into retirement

Despite what retired!Nanami Kento always says he liked his job and his friends

Retired!Nanami Kento spend a lot more time enjoying small moments when he doesn't feel like he's racing against the clock

Retired!Nanami Kento still splits chores with you, old habits die hard

Retired!Nanami Kento can now do his chores at the same time as you do yours so you're done faster

Retired!Nanami Kento finally has the time to watch all those movies and shows you always talked about with Gojo

Retired!Nanami Kento can take you on many more dates and trips

Retired!Nanami Kento still gives advice to younger Sorcerer's when they need it but only advice

Retired!Nanami Kento keeps in shape just in case he's pulled out of retirement

Retired!Nanami Kento can't sit still for long though he needs something to do around the house

As he has a lot more free time retired!Nanami Kento wants to have sex with you during the day, not just early mornings and late nights like before

Retired!Nanami Kento gets baby fever quickly having the need to take care of someone

Retired!Nanami Kento goes crazy when he sees you wearing his tie and pulls on it like a leash while you're riding his cock

Retired!Nanami Kento kisses you deeply every time he knows you're about to come undone on his cock

Retired!Nanami Kento wants to be gentle with you and but when you tell him you want him to put a baby in you he goes feral, folding you in half and fucking you until cum spills down your ass and stomach

Retired!Nanami Kento loves imagining a family with you but he's not yet sure you're ready for one do he still uses condoms often

Retired!Nanami Kento watches porn with you a lot more often and wants to try some new things out

Retired!Nanami Kento would keep you on his cock while you eat together so you're both ready to fuck right after

Retired!Nanami Kento can now take his sweet time fucking you a lot more often without worrying about getting interrupted by a phone call

Retired!Nanami Kento starts enjoying morning sex a lot more then he did before, now you can spend more time being lazy in bed

Dividers made by: @/cafekitsune

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk imagines #nanami kento imagine #nanami imagine #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jjk headcanons #nanami kento headcanons #nanami headcanons #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk fluff #nanami kento fluff #nanami fluff #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #nanami kento smut #nanami smut #x female reader

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter fourteen ⭐︎ Somewhere in these eyes, I'm on your side.

Warnings: fluff, lots and lots fluff, just a teeny tiny bit of angst, just a bunch of tooth rooting sweetness

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: On a rainy Thursday, something shifts between you and Steve, something you can not see yet, while Steve gets lost in a glimpse of the future he could feel on this day.

Word count: 9k+

Author's note: @hellfire--cult thank you for helping me as always, roe. especially with the last bit, you're the bestest ♡ Steve's shower scene was fully written by her so give her some loveeee

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter

♡

The rain paddles against your windows softly, the sun is hidden behind the heavy dark clouds, and the light wind rustles the trees outside. You didn’t close the blinds last night, but it doesn’t matter anyways, it’s dark and gloomy outside. 

The soft covers touch your bare skin, the smell of cologne is heavy in the air, along with the smell of sex that still lingers after the previous night. 

The weight of his arm keeps you in place, keeps you close, he is making your heart flutter in this early morning hour already. 

He is facing you, just as you are facing him. His palm rests on your lower back, his legs tangled with yours underneath the sheets. He pulls you closer when you try to move, tightening his hold on you, but he is still so fast asleep. His lashes look so much longer when his eyes are closed, his features are completely relaxed, he is breathing softly, his heart beats against your palm as you keep your hand close to it. 

You eye the moles on his skin and the scars on his body. 

Your hands always itch to touch him, to graze his skin with the tips of your fingers, and you can do so when he’s fast asleep and unaware of your loving touches. 

You raise your hand up to his face, pushing away the curl that hangs loosely over his forehead. Your touch is light as a feather as you trace the bridge of his nose, and his cheek, before you return your hand back to his chest, freezing when a sigh falls from his lips and he stirs in his sleep, pulling you tighter against him in the process before he sinks deeper into the pillows, eyes still shut and heart still beating softly. 

You breathe out and relax when he continues sleeping deeply. 

You don’t want to get caught admiring him, and touching him like this, when only a few days ago, you feared that you would lose him after Eddie confronted you both. 

You cried yourself to sleep that night. 

His words cut deep, and the fear of losing him added to the hurt. You weren’t ready to lose this, you weren’t ready to lose him, and you thought that you were so very close to it until he showed up the next morning, and asked if things would stay the same between you and him now that someone found out.

The weight that stayed on your shoulders nearly crushed you, but he took it off you, and without realizing that he did, he took some of your worries too, just not the pain, and the mark he left on your heart with a few simple words. But it didn’t matter, because kissing him and feeling his touch again, was all that mattered, to know that it wasn’t over just yet… that mattered. 

You can hide the sadness and the pain when he holds you like this, you can even forget about it… momentarily. 

You forgot about it last night, when he kissed your neck and he marked your skin, when he unraveled you with his tongue and the touch of his hands, when he split you open and kissed you like you were his, when he looked into your eyes and he held your wrist as the tips of his fingers touched your palm, like he wanted to entwine them with yours and feel you closer and closer as you were chest to chest and his lips moved with yours like none have ever did before. 

Shivers run down your spine, and butterflies dance in your stomach when the sound of his voice calling out your name echoes in your mind. 

You might not be the one for him. And you know that there might be others, but you don’t even want to let your mind go there, just the mere thought of it, fills you with nausea. He keeps coming back to you, that’s what matters the most to you. You know that you can give him so much more than anyone else ever could. If only he let you. If only there was a chance. 

You nearly jump from the bed when the ringing of the doorbell pulls you out of your thoughts, and it echoes through the quiet house. 

Your eyes widen, and your heart starts pounding as panic settles deep in your chest. You stare at Steve, who is peacefully asleep, still. 

You flinch at the second ringing. 

“Fuck,” you whisper when you remember the burgundy car in your driveway. There is no reason for Steve to be at your place so early in the morning. There is no believable explanation either, what will you say to whoever it is on the other side of the door?

If this is one of your friends, you are screwed, so screwed. 

You know, as a matter of fact, that it isn’t Eddie – he wouldn’t show up this early unless it was an emergency, and even then, he’d be in your room by now. 

“Steve,” you whisper, trying to shake him awake, but he only grumbles in his sleep and hides his face further into the pillows. 

You sigh. 

You push his arm off and escape his embrace. You throw the covers off, and jump up from your bed, standing in only your underwear for a moment as you search for your clothes, you reach for his shirt instead and throw it on, before you rush out of the room, trying to fix your messy hair as you run down the stairs. 

You don’t have much time to come up with lies and excuses as to why Steve’s car is in your driveway, whoever it is on the other side of the door, is getting a little impatient. 

“I’m coming,” you grumble and unlock the front door before you rip it open, holding your breath. 

“Finally!” 

You sigh out in relief, rolling your eyes at your own panic. You step aside and open the door a little wider. 

“What took you so long?” Your sister murmurs as she steps inside and brushes past you. She is carrying a bag in one hand and the bright pink baby carrier your baby niece is currently sleeping in. 

All your annoyance leaves your body right this second, your eyes soften and a smile appears on your face. 

“Hello to you too, Twinkie.” 

She rolls her eyes at your nickname but pulls you in for a side hug after dropping the bag on the ground. 

“Give me her,” you smile as you take the carrier from her arm, and carry it into the living room, smiling as you eye the little features of the baby girl. You put the carrier down on the couch. “Hi Francine,” you whisper, gently tapping her tiny nose. “She’s so big already!” 

Your sister laughs as she follows you into the living room after kicking off her shoes, “you’ve seen her last week, I don’t think she grew much.” 

“She kind of did,” you whisper, taking Francine’s tiny hand. “They grow so fast.”

Your sister walks over to the window, peeking outside, she clears her throat, “do I wanna know whose car that is?” 

You glance over your shoulder and swallow nervously. 

You’re glad that her memory is awful. 

Everyone knows who is driving the burgundy BMW, and your sister still lived in Hawkins when he got it. She should know who it belongs to.

Her lips curl into a smirk, and she wiggles her brows, “casual hook up, or… is it something serious?” 

You know that she has been waiting for this day. 

It is something serious, to you. 

It is something serious when he holds you closely and kisses you softly, when his eyes soften and his lips curl into a smile at the sight of you. 

It is something serious when your heart flutters every time his knuckles brush against yours. 

It is something serious when you fall asleep in his arms and wake up in the very same spot. 

It is something serious when you keep falling and falling with no end in sight. 

Will you ever stop falling in love with him? 

Will there ever be a moment where your feelings and your love will stop at one level, or will you continue falling harder every passing moment? 

Your sister raises her eyebrows, lips curling into an even bigger smile, when she notices the flustered look on your face, the dreamy look in your eyes. 

“Something serious, huh?” 

You blink. 

Staring at her, with your cheeks now feeling warm… way too warm, you shake your head quickly. 

“N-No.” 

You curse inwardly, for giving yourself away so easily with your stuttering and your blushing. That’s not how you ever reacted before when she mentioned any of your hookups. 

She grins at you, wiggling her eyebrows, “mhm sure, Daisy.” 

You roll your eyes at her teasing glances, but the nickname makes you smile. 

Out of all the flowers, your mom loved Daisies the most, she would put the dainty flowers in your braids, and behind your ear whenever you were out in the garden. You would pick them for her and make little bouquets to surprise her with. 

She always called you her little Daisy. 

Your sister picked up on that nickname, though she used it to mock you at first when she went through a weird phase of hating flowers – which is really ironic considering the flower shop she ended up working at when she moved to the city.

She could’ve given you another nickname, something silly – something like the name you gave to her, but she spared you, luckily. 

“Shut up, Twinkie,” you mumble, as you look back at your niece, who is beginning to stir in her sleep, her long lashes fluttering as small noises escape her mouth. “As happy as I am to see this little bean, why are you here at uh,” you pause, turning your head to look at the clock on the wall, “ten in the morning?” You ask. 

She makes her way over to you, a sweet smile appearing on her face, as she gives you her best puppy eyes. 

“I was hoping that you could look after Francine?” She asks, still smiling. “Lisa is getting married soon, and she asked me to go wedding dress shopping with her, I can’t take her, we’ll probably be out all day, and I can’t wait for Ethan to get home, his shift won’t end before–”

“It’s fine, I’ll look after her,” you interrupt her, despite the slight nervousness that rises up in you. 

You have no experience with babies at all, you have given her the bottle, you even changed her diaper, but your sister was around, and you didn’t spend the whole day alone with her. 

She sighs in relief, she puts her hand on your shoulder, “oh thank you!”

“Don’t mention it, I’d never say no to hanging out with my favorite girl.” 

“You need to spend more time with her anyways, you coming once a week isn’t enough!” 

You frown at your sister, “you’re the one who moved away!” 

She waves her hand at you, walking around the couch, she walks over to the carrier, “she always does that little scrunch with her nose before she wakes up.” 

You smile, watching as she leans in to place a gentle kiss to her daughter’s cheek. 

“Okay,” she whispers, pulling back to look at you, “I put everything into the bag, diapers, bottles, formula, a change of clothes in case her diapers leak, and uh… pacifiers. And uh, you know if she cries just lie down with her and put her on your chest, she loves cuddles.” 

You nod, “yeah, I know, I haven’t forgotten. I got this.”

“Yeah you do, Daisy. And if you need help, just call Eddie–”

“Are you kidding?” You laugh, shaking your head as amusement flashes in your eyes. 

Eddie and Max were there, the last time your sister showed up with her husband and little Francine. 

While the redhead was rather excited to hold the little girl, Eddie felt too afraid to even touch her, and he nearly gagged when Max chased him with a dirty diaper. 

“He looked at her like he was scared of her!” 

Your sister laughs, “yeah, right. Okay, so not Eddie then, I’m sure Max would love to help though, or maybe someone else – but I’ll get going now, I promise, I’ll make it up to you, you got this, Daisy.” She smiles, ruffling your hair, she leans down to look at her daughter one more time, “bye bug, I’ll see you soon,” she whispers and squeezes her tiny foot before she steps away. “Okay, I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, see you later, Twinkie.” 

The moment the front door is slammed shut, you let out a long sigh, and throw your head back against the pillows on your couch. You bring your hand up to your face and pinch the bridge of your nose. 

You are still tired, and it seems as though Steve is still sleeping soundly. 

You want nothing more than to return back to bed and sink into your pillows again. 

You definitely won’t get any sleep now, but you still get up and slowly lift the baby carrier, hoping that the movement won’t wake her up. You try to be careful as you make your way out of the living room and up the stairs. 

When you walk into your room, you find Steve now laying on his stomach, his face buried in your pillow. The sheets are low on his body, his whole back is exposed. 

The tiny cooing sounds from inside the carrier, cause your lips to curl into a big smile. You place it down on your carpet, and kneel down, giggling when you’re met by her big eyes. She starts wiggling around when she sees you. 

“Hi little angel,” you whisper, and lean closer to unfasten the safety belts, before you lift her up from the carrier, placing your right hand behind her head, you pull her into your chest, her hand instantly reaches for your hair, clasping her tiny fingers around it, she makes you laugh when she starts pulling it, making happy noises while she does so. 

You sit down on your bed, and lift your legs up, scooting back until you’re resting against the pillows behind you. You pull the covers over your lower body. 

A small squeal leaves her mouth.

“Shh, someone’s sleeping,” you whisper, tapping her little nose, glancing at Steve who is starting to stir in his sleep. 

You place her on your lap, and giggle at the cuteness as she stretches her little legs out. “That’s a cute onesie,” you whisper, rubbing her belly, “I bet you picked that yourself didn’t you? Pink is a pretty color on you, princess.” 

She babbles and wiggles around as she stares at you with her big eyes. 

Your voice, and the small coos pull Steve out of his deep sleep, his mind is still in a haze, his eyes still closed. 

“Da da da.” 

Your giggle follows the tiny voice. 

Steve scrunches his brows together, gripping the pillow underneath him, he slowly opens his eyes and looks at your side of the bed, his lips part and his eyes widen completely, something in his chest stirs strongly as he stares at the sight in front of him. 

He is still sleeping. 

He is still dreaming. 

A smile is resting on your face, eyes lightened up as you entertain the little baby girl on your lap, a pink bow around her head, big eyes resembling your own as she stares at you with a smile on her face, her hair color is the same as yours. 

Steve swallows the lump that grew in his throat, warmth settles in his chest, surrounding his heart and filling it with something, with adoration. 

His eyes soften when you lean down to kiss her forehead, squishing her tiny cheeks. 

“You’re the prettiest girl, Francis,” you whisper, using her nickname. 

His lips curl into a smile, despite the confusion that still lingers in his features. 

This is surely one of his dreams, he is convinced of it, why else would he wake up beside you, and a baby who looks like you?

But when you turn to face him, and the little girl follows your movement, looking at him with wide eyes, he isn’t so sure anymore. 

He blinks, watching as you reach for Francis’s little arm, waving her tiny hand at him, “say hi Steve.” 

The little girl babbles even louder, making a grabby hand at him. 

Steve smiles at her, raising his hand up, he waves at her.

You can’t help but laugh at the lost and confused look on his face, his brows are pulled together, his lips parted as he looks between you and your niece. 

He turns around on his back, and pushes himself so he’s leaning against your headboard, adjusting the cover, he pulls it up higher. He looks around the room, before his eyes return to the two of you, he runs his fingers through his messy hair, eyes flickering back and forth.

Your lips tug into a smirk, you can tell that he doesn’t understand a thing right now. 

You look at him, as you pull your niece closer, holding her up, you press her against your chest, “can you believe that we made a baby overnight?” 

You almost burst into laughter when his brown eyes widened with pure shock, and he choked a little. 

He blinks, shaking his head, “I know I just woke up, and I’m still sleepy… but… I still kind of remember biology.” 

Francine makes another grabby hand at him, “ma ma.”

“I dunno, but I’m pretty sure she just called you mama.”

Steve’s cheeks heat up, and he turns away from you, looking around your room again before his eyes catch the picture on your nightstand, the one of you and your sister. Oh. 

“Ah… Your niece,” Steve murmurs as he looks back at the two of you. 

“Good morning, Harrington,” you giggle. Francine copies your giggle, and Steve can’t help but smile. “Oh you like that name, huh? It’s funny isn’t it? Harrington.” Her little eyes crinkle, and she starts babbling with a laugh. Steve keeps her eyes on her, smiling at the little girl.

“That’s Francine,” you smile, introducing your niece to him. 

Steve lifts his hand up, waving his fingers at her, “hi Francine, I’m Steve.” 

She squirms in your arms, making happy noises as she blinks at him. Steve chuckles, he scoots closer to you, and he lifts his hand, and touches her tiny one. Francine wraps her hand around his finger, gripping it tightly, making his smile even bigger. 

“Is your sister here?” He asks, without looking away from the little girl. 

You shake your head, “no, she asked me to babysit today. So uh… I’ll be busy with my girl here today.” 

The urge to stay here with you, and this cute little mini you, feels so strong. 

“Want me to help?” Steve asks. 

You’re a little stunned by his question, and can only stare in surprise. 

“Huh?” 

“I mean, I don’t mind staying to help,” Steve shrugs, glancing at you for a second before he gives his attention back to Francine, who stares at him in awe.

The thought of spending a whole day with Steve, taking care of a baby with him, sounds like heaven. 

The only reason why he’s ever even around you without the group is because of sex, and that only. You don’t meet up just to watch movies, cook together or anything else, you only meet up for one thing, that’s all. 

The fact that he is willing to just spend time with you, without expecting anything to happen baffles you a little. 

“I-I… Do you really want to stay?” 

He nods. 

“Not much of a choice, to be honest,” he murmurs with a fond smile on his face as he gestures to your niece who is still holding his finger tightly. 

“O-Okay,” you whisper, shakily as nervousness and excitement rise up in you. 

“She’s so adorable,” Steve whispers, chuckling when Francine babbles at him, “she looks like you.” 

You smile before you realize what he just said, and heat rushes to your cheeks. 

She’s so adorable, she looks like you.

“I-I uh,” you stutter, trying to keep your cool, “so you’re gonna stay then?”

“Yeah, I’d love to hang out with Blondie and mini Blondie over here,” he chuckles as he taps her nose. 

Your heart could burst right then and there, your cheeks feeling incredibly hot the longer you sit here and stare at him. 

“Cool,” you say with a small voice as you suddenly feel the need to escape for a moment, “would you mind looking after her for a moment then? I wanna take a quick shower or else I’ll walk around looking like a bum all day.” 

Steve turns to look at you, he takes in the sight of your messy hair, and the shirt on your body, only now noticing that it’s his. His insides tingle, and his lips curl into a smile. 

You look like a cute bum. He almost blurts out, but bites his tongue. 

“Sure, go ahead, me and Francine are just gonna hang out, right?” 

She squeals in response, making jumpy movements. 

You both laugh at her. 

You lay her down beside him, and tickle her belly, giggling when she starts kicking her feet, “alright, I’ll be right back, angel.” 

Steve doesn’t even notice how big his smile is, how soft his eyes are as he stares at you, how warm the feeling in his chest is. 

“She might roll over on her belly, and if she gets a little fuzzy just pick her up, she loves snuggles. I’m gonna be quick.” 

Steve scoots closer to Francine, leaning his elbow on the pillow, he rests his head against his palm, and glances at you, “it’s fine, take your time, I’m just gonna chat with her.” 

Francine is still kicking her feet and waving around with her little arms.

“Oh yeah, she’s very talkative,” you giggle, and get up from the bed, you walk over to your dresser and pick out some clothes to change into. As much as you would love to wear his shirt all day, he needs it himself – although, you wouldn’t mind him walking around shirtless. 

Once you get everything you need, you turn back to take a look at them, and you nearly melt into a puddle when you see the way she is still clutching his finger, kicking her legs and babbling something to him, while he watches her with a smile on his face. 

“O-Okay, I’ll be right back.” 

You leave the room in a haste, but Steve doesn’t even notice, too busy staring at little Francine. He adores the resemblance of you, and the color of her eyes that matches yours, she truly looks like you. 

Steve can’t remember the last time he saw or even held a baby, he’s not sure if he ever even held one. He was ten when one of his cousins was born, but he didn’t care to hold him back then. 

Francine keeps making a grabby hand at him, while she tugs at his finger, starting to get fuzzy after a few minutes pass without your presence in the room. 

He sits up straighter and pulls the blanket up higher, he reaches for one of your throw pillows and places it on his lap. 

“Alright Francine,” Steve whispers, he takes a deep breath and furrows his brows in concentration as he carefully lifts her up, supporting her head with his palm, he pulls her closer and lays her down on the soft pillow. 

She coos and starts blowing bubbles, making Steve laugh. 

“Oh, you’re so adorable,” he smiles, pulling her a little closer, “did you pick that bow today?” He asks, eying the headband around her little head. 

She makes a few grunting noises, though looking at him with a happy look on her face. 

“Your auntie loves those bows too, she puts some in her ponytails sometimes,” Steve says, talking to her as though he will get more than just a few babbles from her. “I bet you’re gonna steal them from her someday–”

Prrrrrrrrrrrrrrt

Steve’s face pales at the sound, his eyes widen. 

The noise that came from her diapers sounded more than just air. 

“Oh fuck,” he mumbles before his eyes widen further at the curse word that just left his lips, “I shouldn’t have said that, shit– I mean, I’m sorry, please forget what I just said,” he rambles, as though she understood a single thing that he said. 

Francine babbles, kicking her feet into his stomach with a happy squeal. 

“Um,” he panics, looking around the room, “Blondie!?”

“What Steve!?” You call from the bathroom, “it’s been five minutes!” 

“I uh–” He mumbles, scratching the back of his neck as he furrows his brows, “code red…?” 

You nearly laugh at his choice of words, you only ever used code red in the upside down, for the real emergencies. 

You can already guess what happened, and it only makes your amusement grow bigger. You quickly put your clothes on, and brush your hair before you make your way out of the bathroom and back to them. 

“Okay, I’m here,” you announce, placing his shirt that you stole earlier on your bed, you walk over to his side, and take a seat beside him, “that was the quickest shower of my life.” 

He gets a whiff of your vanilla body wash, of the mint from your toothpaste, and the smell of perfume that lingers in your hair, making his chest flutter. 

“She uh– I think she needs a diaper change.” 

“Oh,” you laugh, “that’s what you’re panicking about?” 

Steve glares at you.

“You wanted to help,” you shrug as you get up again, making your way out of the room again to get the bag with Francine’s stuff. “You gotta learn how to change diapers, Harrington!” 

Steve huffs nervously, “no big deal right?” He whispers to Francine. 

“Da da da.” 

“Yeah,” Steve laughs, “right.”

You come back into the room, and put the bag on the ground, picking out new diapers, wet wipes, baby powder and the spare onesie, along with the thin baby towel that you spread out on your mattress. 

“Alright, Lego head,” you raise your eyebrows at him, “do you wanna practice for your future nuggets or are you scared of baby poop?” 

He snorts, shaking his head at you.

“No, I’m not scared of baby poop.” 

You walk over to them both and lean down before him, you pick Francine up, and scrunch your face up, “yeah, you really need a diaper change, angel.”

Steve watches as you carry her over to the other side, placing her down on the towel you spread out. You undo the buttons of her onesie, smiling at the little girl. 

“Well, come on,” you giggle at him, “it’s an experience you gotta make, Steve.” 

Steve takes a deep breath, he throws the pillow off his lap and removes the cover. He gets up from the bed, standing there in his boxers for a moment, until his eyes find the sweatpants he discarded last night, he quickly throws them on, along with the shirt you wore earlier. 

“Alright,” he murmurs, running his fingers through his hair, he walks up beside you, “just tell me what to do.” 

You chuckle at his nervousness, you place your hand on his shoulder, “don’t worry, if Max was able to do it, you can do it too.” 

A breathy laugh falls from his lips. 

You guide him, giving him a little step by step of what to do. 

You watch the way his brows knit together, and the way he is nodding to himself as he follows your words. 

He doesn’t even look disgusted when the smell hits him, he only chuckles at the way Francine continues babbling happily. 

“She’s a happy baby, isn’t she?” 

You nod, smiling down at your niece, “yes she is.”

You hand him the new diapers and the baby powder, before you put the used wipes into the dirty diaper, roll it up carefully and throw it into the trash in your bathroom before you return to your room. 

“How old is she?” 

“She’s gonna be three months old tomorrow,” you say, smiling as you step up beside him again. 

Steve raises his eyebrows at Francine, “oh, you’re gonna be a big girl tomorrow?” He jokes as he tickles her belly, making her laugh. 

The smile on your face widens, the feeling in your chest growing stronger and brighter. 

Her small giggles, and the fond smile that rests in his tired features spark something deep inside of you, a warming and comforting feeling appears as you watch him take care of her with careful and slow movements. 

“Is that okay?” He asks you, gesturing to the diapers he put on her, “or is it too tight?”

You lean closer to him and check the pressure, “no, that’s perfect, Steve.”

“It is?” He asks, surprised. 

You nod, and start to put her onesie back on, “yeah, I don’t even know what you panicked about, you’ve done a better job than me, I didn’t know what I was doing the first time,” you laugh. “You did good, Lego head.” 

A dimpled grin appears on his face, despite the redness in his cheeks. 

“I-I think caring for a bunch of kids that turned into teens turned me into a natural, even babies. I mean, Dustin counts as a baby, doesn’t he?” He jokes, watching the way your eyes crinkle and your lips spread before you burst into giggles. 

Francine watches you with big eyes before she copies your giggles like before. 

Steve’s eyes light up, as he watches you both. 

The warmth in his chest spreads, as happiness rises up in him. 

After adjusting her clothes and the bow on her head, you pick her up into your arms, leaning down to kiss her cheek. 

You don’t even notice just how soft the look in his eyes, how the ghost of a smile now lingers on his lips, as he stares at the both of you in awe, watching the way Francine buries her face in the crook of your neck, and you keep a gentle hand on the back of her head. 

“Do you want some breakfast? I can make you something after I give this princess her bottle, I think she’s getting tired again.”

Steve’s heart thumps strongly in his chest, he can’t deny the emotions of adoration in him as he looks at you with the baby on your arm. 

“I can make you a breakfast sandwich or anything else you want.” 

Steve blinks. 

“Uh, you don’t have to make anything for me, Blondie. I can make you something though.”

You shake your head, “no, you’re my guest, I’ll make you breakfast, and you can feed her if you want.” 

“Okay,” he says with a sigh, nodding his head, “I’ll make you lunch or dinner though.”

“Oh, are you gonna woo me with your cooking skills now?” You giggle. 

He looks down with a smile, “I promised I would, didn’t I?” 

“Yeah, you did.” 

Francine clasps her fingers around your hair again, pulling it stronger than before, making you wince a little. 

“Okay, okay, someone’s getting a little grumpy now. I’m gonna go make her the bottle.” 

“I’ll be right there with you, I’m just gonna go brush my teeth real quick,” Steve gestures to your bathroom, “do you need me to carry the bag down?”

“No, it’s fine, it’s not heavy,” you say as you step towards him, “but can you help me put it on my shoulder?”

“Yeah, of course.”

He grabs the bag and steps towards you, putting the strap around your shoulder. His eyes soften yet again, when he sees you looking down at your niece, smiling as she blinks at you with her big eyes. 

Steve doesn’t even notice that his hand still lingers on your shoulder, or that he’s rubbing your back, he is too in awe of the two of you, and that feeling stays with him, even when you leave the room and go downstairs, even when he goes into the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face, he stares at his reflection in the mirror, and he can’t even unsee the happiness and the relaxation in his features, but he decides to pay no mind to it. 

When he joins you downstairs, he finds you in the kitchen, finishing up on Francine’s bottle, you’re shaking it, while whispering something to her as you’re still holding her in your arm, still. 

Steve doesn’t know what it is, but the sight before him, makes him freeze in his spot. 

As you stand there in your kitchen, with a smile on your lips, and a look of adoration in your eyes, you’re cooing at your niece, giggling every time she babbles something at you, he realizes something. 

You are comfortable, right now. 

You’re in your home, away from the eyes of strangers, hidden from the world that you have only shown one side of yourself to, your walls are down, you are just yourself, and there is no shame behind your eyes, because all your attention goes to someone you adore and love, and don’t feel the need to hide from. 

Your eyes shine brightly, your features are relaxed in a way they have never been before, and your smile is so genuine, so real. 

You’re talking to her with a small and gentle voice, you hold her tightly against your chest – and you… god you look so beautiful like this. 

You look so beautiful with a baby in your arms. 

Warmth spreads across his whole body, he likes the sight in front of him, he likes it so much that it should scare him, but it doesn’t. 

“There he is, Francis,” you smile, glancing at Steve, you don’t even notice how frozen in place he is, how heaven struck he looks, “are you ready to give her the bottle?” 

Steve blinks, snapping out of his mind, he nods at you with a blush on his cheeks. 

You brush past him, and gesture for him to follow you into the living room, after you grab the cloth from the counter. 

You place the bottle on the coffee table, and wait for him to take a seat on the couch. 

“Alright, you gotta tell me what to do,” Steve says nervously, as he sits down, “I’ve never done this before.” 

“Don’t be nervous, you got this,” you assure him. 

You step between his legs, and lean down to place Francine into his arms. 

Without needing to be told, he cradles the back of her head, as he gently pulls her into his arms, a smile spreading on his lips when her big eyes look into his. 

“Okay,” you whisper and put the cloth under her chin, adjusting it over her clothes in case a little accident might happen. 

“Am I holding her correctly?” Steve asks, looking up at you. 

The side of her face is nuzzled into his chest, the back of her head resting in the crook of his arm. You didn’t even need to guide him, he truly is a natural. 

“Yeah,” you smile, “you’re doing great.”

You hand him the bottle, and sit down beside him. 

“Did you test the temperature?” Steve asks, and you almost want to laugh at his question. 

“Yeah Steve, I did.” 

He nods at you. 

With a chuckle, you pull your feet up onto the sofa and sit on your knees, turning your body towards them. 

“Okay, now gently place the teat into her mouth and slowly tilt the bottle, she will do the rest.” 

He furrows his brows, poking his tongue through his lips, he focuses on your niece as he follows your words. 

You watch him closely, how soft and concentrated his eyes are, how careful his movements are, how small she looks in his arms, how sweet the sight of them is. 

Francine raises her little arm, and places her tiny hand on the bottle as she starts sucking on the teat, small noises falling from her. 

“Oh my god,” Steve whispers, the biggest smile you have ever seen, now glowing in his features as he looks at her in awe, “she’s the cutest little bean.” 

“Yeah, she is,” you smile and tilt your head as you watch them, the fluttering feeling in your chest sparking.

Her eyelashes flutter, her big eyes still staring into his. 

“I’m gonna cry, Blondie,” Steve murmurs, adoring the little human in his arms. “She's so tiny and adorable.” 

You move closer and reach for the corner of the cloth, wiping away the bit of milk that rolls down her chin. 

“You’re gonna have one of those someday too.”

Steve smiles at your words, nodding as he whispers “hopefully.” 

But he doesn’t notice the way your own smile falls, the way your eyes sadden for a moment, the way you look down and blink away the feelings you don’t want him to see. And he doesn’t realize how quiet you get, he is too distracted by Francine and the thoughts in his head, the pictures of a future he longs for so badly. 

Only when the bottle is empty and he removes it, does he turn back to you, but still too blinded by his mind to see the look in your eyes. You take the bottle from his hand, and place it back on the coffee table. 

“You gotta hold her against your chest now,” you tell him and remove the cloth from her body, you place it on his chest instead, “and gently pat her back so she can burp.” 

You guide him again, helping him hold her correctly as he places her against his chest, he puts his hand on her back, and starts patting gently. 

“Is that good?”

“Yeah,” you whisper and scoot closer to him, you reach for her tiny hand, caressing it as you watch her with a smile on your face, “she’s tired.” 

“Yeah, pooping must’ve been really exhausting,” Steve jokes, making you giggle. 

“Yeah, totally–”

A loud burp falls from her mouth. 

“Oh that was a big one,” Steve chuckles as he stops patting her, “you did good, bug.”

“She didn’t even spit, she usually does a little, wow you really do have magical hands,” you chuckle, and remove the cloth from his shoulder. 

“Told you, I’m a natural,” he smiles proudly. 

You roll your eyes playfully. 

“Do you want me to take her now?” You ask. 

He shakes his head at you, “can I hold her for a while?” 

Confusion flashes in your eyes. You know how badly he needs his coffee in the mornings, it’s one of the first things he does after he wakes up, going into the kitchen to brew his beloved morning coffee. He didn’t even take a single sip yet, but he doesn’t seem to mind, he is too in awe of the baby on his chest. 

Realization replaces the look in your eyes – he is entering a baby fever trance, with your niece nonetheless. It makes your smile reappear, that’s how you feel too, every time you get to spend time with her. 

“Of course,” you whisper, as your gaze softens. 

Francine’s eyelashes flutter, her blinking getting slower and lesser. 

“She’s gonna pass out though, you should sit back a little so she can lay on you.” 

He nods at your words, placing one hand on her back and the other under her bum, he lays back slowly, his lips twitching into a small smile when he sees her already falling asleep. She scrunches up her nose as she nuzzles her face into his chest, making you both laugh when she suddenly throws her hand up, managing to catch onto a strand of his hair. 

She wiggles around for a moment, before her eyes start falling shut. 

“And she’s out,” Steve whispers, chuckling to himself. “I wish I could fall asleep this fast.” 

“Yeah, me too.”

Her cheek is squished against him, she’s breathing softly now, her hand falling from his hair and onto his shoulder, her little headband beginning to slip off. 

You reach out to take it off her head slowly, and lean in to place a soft kiss on her forehead, unaware of the fond smile on Steve’s lips, or the feelings that rush through him because of you. 

“I’m gonna go make some coffee and breakfast now,” you mumble as you pull away, and get up from the couch, grabbing the bottle and the cloth. 

Steve’s eyes follow you as you walk over to the TV stand, and grab the remote, handing it to him, “you can watch something if you want, it won’t disturb her, she’s a heavy sleeper.”

“I’m good, I’ll watch her for now,” he whispers. 

“Okay, I’ll be right back,” you say, and give him a smile before you leave the room. 

A genuine smile. 

You smiled at him before, countless of times actually, but he could never tell what was real and what wasn’t, what was genuine and what was forced or just sarcastic. But this, this was a real smile, and there was no second meaning behind it. You just smiled at him, naturally. It makes him feel… happy, and as he looks down at the little girl that has your features, he realizes something. 

The feeling in his chest was never for nothing, it was never false or misleading. 

It was just as real as the smile you blessed him with. 

Suddenly, everything before him doesn't seem as dull and colorless as it did all these past months and even years, something sparks before his eyes and he can see again, he can feel something besides the never ending gnawing in his chest and the restlessness in his bones, the fears that nestled deep into his soul. He finally sees something other than the darkened clouds and the red lights that keep flashing before his eyes. 

A light that keeps peeking through every once in a while is on the verge of breaking through, making the walls around him rattle as the foundation starts to crumble, one brick at a time starts falling into an abyss. 

A future lays before his eyes, calling out to him and waiting to be grasped, an echo, a whisper, a glimpse of what could be if things were only different. 

For the rest of the day, Steve feels as though he had fallen into a pleasant dream, a world where it’s only you and him, a little girl that made him realize just how badly he wants to have a family of his own – he already knew that he wanted it, but he pictured the wrong person by his side, a person he no longer even wanted. 

He was blinded by old feelings, and the wish to have something real again, when it never even was to begin with. 

The feelings that are sparking in him now, feel so different from anything that he had ever felt before, and he only opens his eyes to them more and more as the day passes, and he sees a side of you that he had never seen before. 

He sees with how much love and gentleness you treat your niece, he sees the way your eyes hold nothing but adoration for the girl that you would do anything for. 

He hears how soft your voice can get. 

He feels how soft your touch can be when you once again hand her to him. 

And his heart beats so strongly, so fastly in his chest when a giggle falls from your lips after Francine pouts when you take her away from him again, only to be forced to place her back into his arms when she almost starts crying. 

Steve adores her, and he adores you – a little more as every second of this day passes. 

The thing that pushes him nearer towards the finish line of realization, is this very moment in front of him. 

Your niece fell asleep on his chest yet again, you are sitting right next to him, with your head on his shoulder and your eyes glued on her, your finger tracing her little features. The urge to pull you closer and hold you feels so strong to the point that his fingers start itching. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t cook dinner for you,” he whispers. 

You look at him through your lashes, the corner of your lip twitching as your eyes flicker to his lips for a brief moment. 

The only light in the room now coming from the TV, the volume set on the lowest. The rain is still falling, even as the night nears. 

“It’s okay, Francis didn’t let you,” you giggle softly, not knowing that the sound makes his heart flutter. “Besides, the pizza was really good.” 

“Yeah, it was,” he whispers. 

He notices how tired you look, how the sleepiness is beginning to set into your features now too. 

“Look at her tiny nose,” you whisper as you look back at her, “and those little hands.”

Something in the way you hold her hand and whisper so adoringly about her, makes him long for you even more – but not in a way he had felt before, no, this is different, this is so very serious. 

Steve lifts his arm as a blush creeps up to his cheeks, he wraps his arm around you, and pulls you closer, “come here,” he whispers into your hair, “there’s space for two Blondies on my chest.”

He doesn’t know what kind of emotions he can trigger in you, with such simple words. 

He doesn’t know that you have been dying to feel this. 

You lay your head on his chest, and he can’t help but smile at the sigh that falls from your lips. You put your arm around Francine, and snuggle against him, and you stay like that, for a while at least, until Steve allows his feelings to take the lead. 

He adjusts the blanket over Francine before he pulls you even closer, and he buries his fingers in your hair, allowing himself to play with it like he only ever does when you’re fast asleep and unaware of his soft touches or the glances that fall upon your skin. 

He would feel joy if he knew about the emotions that linger inside of you. 

“You will be an amazing dad to your little nuggets someday, Steve,” you say in a whisper, it’s almost too quiet for him to hear, “and a good husband too.” 

The shakiness in your voice and the sadness goes by unnoticed by him, he is too stunned by your words. 

If he could see inside your head, he would know how much sadness there is, how the dark clouds always reside, how you don’t see a future for yourself because you know that he won’t be in it, and without him, what will you have? What will you be? A wilting rose, left behind to die. You are barely holding on now, but you are still here, because he is still keeping you alive. Your life is in his hands. 

Steve takes a deep breath, he opens his mouth to whisper to you, only to see you fast asleep now too, your cheek squished against his chest just like Francine’s is. 

He breathes out, lips curling into a smile as he stops playing with your hair. 

“You will be amazing too, Blondie,” he whispers. 

A girlfriend. A wife. A mother. 

Whatever you choose to be, whoever you will bless with your love, they are going to be so lucky to have you. 

And before he can even realize where his thoughts are taking him, a frown nestles into his features. The thought that he will become a memory to you, makes him feel uneasy. The thought that someone will step into your life, and take away what you both have, fills him with gray-ish sadness once again. The image of someone putting a ring on your finger and getting to be the one to lift the veil and kiss you on the altar openly, in front of everybody, and without needing to hide, spreads the darkness in him, yet again. 

He looks down at you, at the way you look so comfortable in his embrace, while your soft hand stays on the girl’s back, he admires you, and he feels no shame to do so, not even when he lifts his hand to brush your hair out of your face. 

But his time with you is cut short when the front door unlocks and opens, and footsteps echo in the hallway, a moment later. 

He turns his face away from you, when your sister steps into the living room, freezing in her steps when she sees him. 

Steve swallows the lump in his throat, giving her a tight lipped smile, he raises his hand to wave at her, “hi…”

She furrows her brows as she takes in the sight of you three, her lips pulling into a confused smile. She takes her denim jacket off and walks further into the room, her lips curling into a big smile when she takes a look at her girl. 

But then her eyes fall back on him, and suddenly, her lips part in surprise. 

“Hi…Oh– you, hang on,” she mumbles, tilting her head before her eyes widen, “Steve Harrington?”

Steve doesn’t know what to think of the look on her face, or the stunned tone in her voice. 

He met her before, at the hospital when she came to visit you, but he didn’t talk to her, and her reaction makes him wonder if you have mentioned him before. 

“Yeah… that’s uh… that’s me.”

The silence that follows is almost too loud, he can see the way she looks between you both, back and forth, as her brows stay furrowed. 

She points a finger between you both, “so uh… you’re her boyfriend?”

Steve hesitates, and he glances down at you, bitterness lays on his tongue when he utters the next words, “uh… no… no, I’m not.” Sadly, he thinks.

And when he registers the words that popped into his head out of nowhere, he suddenly wants nothing more than to escape this situation, fearing his own feelings again. 

“I-I should go now.” 

“Oh, you’re not staying another night?” She asks, a somewhat smug tone in her voice as she looks at you. 

He would love to, but it’s better to go now. It’s not safe to stay, not for his heart.

“No, I have to work tomorrow.”

“Ah,” she nods and walks over to the three of you, “I’ll take her now,” she whispers, and carefully picks her daughter up. The little girl stirs in her sleep, grunting quietly but not opening her eyes just yet. 

“She’s a heavy sleeper,” Steve chuckles as he watches the way Francine relaxes into her mother’s arms. 

“She really is,” your sister laughs, and walks over to the armchair, taking a seat before she looks back up at Steve, “kind of like Daisy when she’s relaxed,” she nudges her chin towards you. 

A smile appears on his face, and he looks down at you, his arm is still wrapped around you, and he already dreads the feeling of having to let you go. 

“Yeah,” he whispers, taking a long look at you, before he decides to get up. 

A sigh leaves his lips, and he slowly slips away from you, replacing his chest with a pillow for your head, his eyes soften when you scrunch your nose up just the way your niece did earlier. He adjusts the blanket over you, fighting the urge to leave a kiss on your forehead before he steps away. 

Your sister eyes him closely, watching how he treats you with so much care. 

When Steve steps away, and looks away from you, glancing at your sister, heat rushes to his cheeks when he sees the way she looks between you both, a smug look lingering in her eyes, a small but teasing smile on her face. 

He wants to run. 

“Okay uh,” he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck before he points his finger at the hallway, “I’m gonna go.” 

“Okay,” she nods, “thanks for helping with Francine.”

He waves his hand, a smile now reappearing on his face as he looks at the baby girl, already missing the feeling of holding her. 

“No need to thank me, I loved spending time with these two,” he chuckles, pointing between you and your niece. “But uh, I’m gonna head out.”

“Alright,” she smiles at him.

He takes one last look at you before he turns around and makes his way out of the living room, he puts his Nike’s on, and grabs the car keys he threw on the counter, last night. 

“Bye, Twinkie.”

“Bye…” She mumbles with furrowed brows, confused at the name he just called her by. 

The front door shuts quietly, yet loud enough to wake you up. With a flinch, you open your eyes, and look around the room, feeling a little disoriented. You look to your side, the empty spot beside you, making you frown. 

“Your boyfriend left,” your sister's voice sounds through the room. 

You turn to her, finding her in the armchair she always loved so much. A smug look is resting on her lips. 

“Shut up,” you mumble, glaring at her. 

She laughs at you, and leans back, getting comfortable in her seat. 

“Spill. Now.” 

-

The hot water rolls down Steve’s skin, the smell of shampoo surrounds him as he washes his hair. 

His eyes are closed, but a smile rests on his lips, as images of all the things that happened today replay in his mind. 

The fluttering in his chest hasn’t stopped at all, everything you did, everything you said, every single touch of yours has seemingly turned him into a hopeless teenager again – only, he isn’t one anymore, and the feelings inside of him, go much deeper than the ones of a seventeen year old boy. 

And no matter how much he tries to deny them, he just can’t, because it becomes less and less possible to pretend that they aren’t there.

Today, they shined through so brightly, when he saw how soft and gentle you could be, when he saw the sides of you that you never wanted to show. He saw something he never thought was even there. And it causes awful feelings to rise up in him, when he comes to the realization that all these years, you were only protecting yourself from the hurt in this world, and you did so by putting up a front and giving people the wrong pictures of yourself.

You were mean and rough to those you didn’t trust, and he was one of them, maybe he still is, but he saw you today. 

When you greeted him this morning, with your niece in your arms. 

When you kissed her little forehead, and held her in your sweet embrace. 

When you taught him to bottle feed her. 

When you admired her with him, and traced her little features with your finger and a loving smile on your face. 

When you told him how great of a husband he would be someday, and an amazing dad to his nuggets.

Wait… you said nuggets, plural. He never told you he wanted kids, so how did you know? How did you even know he would love to call his children that particular word? Was it intuition? Was it a coincidence? 

His eyebrows knit together with complete and utter confusion as the water just keeps running over his head, and the realization hits him like a ton of bricks. 

The RV. His conversation with Nancy. Him telling Nancy he wants to be someone’s husband and have six nuggets. Him pouring his desires out, thinking that everyone else in the vehicle was sound asleep.

But you weren’t.

Fuck, you weren’t asleep. You heard him. You heard him talking to Nancy, and you– you think that he wants those things with her still. He should clarify it, shouldn’t he? He wants to tell you that it was the dread of the world ending talking for him. He wants to explain himself to you–

Explain himself? Why? You probably wouldn’t care who he has kids with, or who he marries. You would simply give him a thumbs up and a confused look on your face. But– He feels his stomach contracting with nerves, nerves he knows all too well. He doesn’t need to explain anything to you. He doesn’t need to clarify anything. 

But, he doesn’t want you to think he wants that family with Nancy Wheeler.

He really doesn’t.

And he is terrified that he doesn’t want you to misunderstand.

Absolutely fucking terrified.

And then, the realization, the surprise and the nerves turn into absolute guilt. He had also said a few things about you. Nancy told him that it’s sad you had to be included this way into the party, into their problems, but that you looked strong and determined after going into the upside down just one time.

And he replied with how much he desired you wouldn’t have gotten involved at all. It sounded harsh, it sounded vile and venomous… And it was intended that way, or at least that’s what he thought. 

Now, he realizes that he didn’t want you involved so you wouldn’t go through danger, but you did, you went through so much pain and suffering. Nancy was right, you were strong, and you didn’t second guess your actions when it meant saving someone. 

“Shit–” He jumped a bit when he felt the water turn cold, not realizing for how long he had been in his head, thinking, running through his thoughts and memories. He turned the water off and shook his head to get the excess of it out of his hair. 

He got out of the shower and grabbed a towel, a white one that had the smudge of a lipstick stain that never got off. Your lipstick. 

And just that mere stain made his heart jump and miss one beat, two beats, maybe three. Fuck… Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

He really wants you to know he doesn’t mean what he said in the RV.

To both of those things.

Especially the one about Nancy.

“Fuck me.”

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @sherrylyn628 @munson-mjstan @maroon-cardigan @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @ibellcipem @corrodedcorpses @agirlwholovesrockstars

#dwoht -- chapter fourteen #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington series #stranger things angst

[ellemj]

Breathe: Part 2 (Final Part)

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Two-Part Fic

Read Part 1 here.

Summary: Bucky shows you what it's like to not be able to breathe. It's how you make him feel every time you risk your life, after all, it's only fair for you to feel the same way for once.

Warnings: profanity, enemies to lovers type vibe, oral sex (male receiving), maybe breath play??, dirty talk, fingering, mutual pining.

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: I've been super busy over the last few weeks and truly haven't had the time to write, even when I've had the motivation to. With the things I've experienced this month I'm honestly on the brink of branching into writing angst. To briefly trauma dump, having someone scream and beg you to save a life that is hours beyond saving can really push a girl to write angst. Anyway, I should be able to write a lot more in the coming weeks and I'm excited to interact with you all again.

            If Bucky was thinking straight, he wouldn’t have the image of his flesh hand fisted in your hair flashing through his mind right now.  He wouldn’t be thinking about kissing and sucking along the side of your neck as your hands work to unbuckle his belt and undo his pants. If he was thinking straight, he sure as hell wouldn’t be about to give you exactly what you asked for.

            Show me what it’s like.

            What what’s like?

            Not being able to breathe.

            The tense exchange is on replay in his head as he looks at you with a hardened gaze. The tip of your index finger grazes over the skin of his lower stomach, just above his belt, as you stare back at him. Why did you ask for it? He can’t help but wonder within himself, why did you ask for some filthy variation of his cock in your mouth? Does it have anything to do with him? Or is he simply the only one around to give you one last adrenaline rush before you’re benched indefinitely? Does he even care?

            Your fingertips slip more fully under the hem of his shirt and you trace one of his v-lines with the same finger that was previously lingering along his belt. Bucky takes a deep, steady breath as another image flashes through his mind. He imagines his hand tangled in your hair as you hollow your cheeks and take every fucking inch of his cock into your goddamn mouth. In this moment, he doesn’t care if you’re only willing to suck his dick in want of an adrenaline rush or whatever the fuck else is driving you right now. All he cares about is showing you how you make him feel every single time you rush out into the field, ready to get yourself killed. All he cares about is showing you what it’s like when your lungs are starved of air and you can’t catch a full breath. He’s going to fucking show you.

            “Take it off.” Bucky’s voice comes out low and commanding in a way that has tingles running down your spine in an instant. As bold as you felt when you asked him what you asked him just a moment earlier, you find yourself suddenly unsure.

            “What?” Your hand falters against his skin. Does he want your hand off? Bucky senses your hesitation and his flesh hand quickly finds yours and guides it back down to the buckle of his belt.

            “My belt. Take it off.” Again, your hand falters. Bucky isn’t thinking at all when he lifts his own hand and lets his palm conform to the curve of your jaw, when his thumb gently brushes over your cheek. He has every ounce of your attention now. Your hands start working on autopilot, pulling the end of his belt through its loop and undoing the buckle with ease. Bucky’s thumb continues circling against your cheek, his eyes lingering on your face as you undo the button of his pants and grasp the zipper between your thumb and forefinger. “You listen so well when your life isn’t on the line.” He says, almost disappointedly. But then again, if you listened to orders in the field like everyone else, the two of you probably wouldn’t be where you are right now. When you start to tug his zipper down, he quickly places a hand over the back of yours and stops you.

            Your fucking eyes. The way you’re looking at him right now, with that damn innocent look in your eye like you’ve never touched a man’s zipper before, is doing unholy things to him. Bucky can feel his cock hardening to an uncomfortable degree, and he knows you can feel it too with where your hand is resting right now.

            “Maybe you should take advantage of that.” You whisper softly. Bucky narrows his eyes at you.

            “Of what?”

            “How well I listen when my life isn’t on the line.” A small smile plays on your lips and Bucky finds it simultaneously infuriating and undeniably attractive. His eyes coast away from your face and down your arm, all the way to where your hand rests beneath his on his zipper. He catches sight of the hair tie you removed from your hair earlier still tight around your wrist. Letting his hand fall away from yours, his signature smirk takes over his features.

            “Tie your hair back.”

            You never knew Bucky Barnes held so much power over you.

            He can’t stop staring at you, studying you as you do exactly what he asked. As you tie your hair back, he can feel the tension growing all around him. He takes it on himself to pull the zipper of his jeans down, but he doesn’t dare to do any more than that. He wants you to do it yourself. He wants to see your hands, that are so small in comparison to his own, doing everything he tells them to.  Bucky’s eyes fixate on the skin of your neck, and though he has a plan in mind that doesn’t involve his mouth on you, he can’t help it. In an instant, his flesh hand tangles in the hair that you’ve just tied back and he’s pulling you closer. Every soft drag of his lips against your skin sends more and more heat straight to your core. His tongue darts out from between his lips and wets your skin before he dares to let his teeth join the equation. The first mark he leaves on you draws a sharp gasp from you. The second mark earns him an irresistible whimper. But the third? With the third mark to your neck, you moan his fucking name.

            When Bucky lets go of his grip on your hair and moves his seat away from the steering wheel just a moment after the first moan that he heard fall from your lips, you both know you’ve reached a place of no return. When you tug his jeans down a little further and slide one hand into the front of his boxers, something in the air snaps. Your hand wraps around his length, barely able to contain the entirety of his girth, and his head falls back against the headrest of his seat.

            “Shit.”  The hushed profanity tumbles past his lips as if he didn’t even mean to let it out. Without freeing him from the confines of his boxers, you give his length one stroke. Fuck. He’s big. He’s so big that you think you might’ve underestimated just how easy it would be for him to show you what it’s like to not be able to breathe. You stroke him from base to tip again and feel his precum gathering against your palm. When you do it a third time, his head snaps forward and you feel his hand in your hair again, tugging your head back so you’re forced to look him in the eye. “I can’t fucking stand you.” He says pointedly as your hand continues to move at a torturously slow pace along his shaft. You circle your thumb around the head of his cock and feel him shudder in his seat.

            “I can’t fucking stand you either.”

            “Then why the hell is your hand on my cock?” He taunts as his stare pierces somewhere deep within you. You say nothing in response, but you stroke his length from base to tip again, slower this time. “You can’t stand me but you’re going to suck my dick, aren’t you?”

            Bucky notices the way your grip around him falters, the way you squeeze him a little tighter before your hand slightly loosens around his shaft. He can fucking smell your arousal soaking into your panties. He’s a pleasantly surprised when you decide to take initiative and tug the waistband of his boxers down enough to free his cock. It springs up against his lower stomach and you watch in awe as he pulls his shirt up enough to showcase his toned abs and keep precum from wetting the fabric.

            “Oh my god.” You breathe the words out slowly as your eyes take in the reality before you. Just like you thought, he’s big. You could tell when you had your hand on it, but seeing it right in front of you? Even in the dim light of the supermarket parking lot, you can tell you might be in over your head. While you’re thinking you might be in over your head, Bucky’s thinking about how he’s going to enjoy holding your head down.

---

            “That’s it, take another deep breath for me.” Bucky says, smoothing back your hair as he memorizes every single inch of your flushed face. You wet your bottom lip with your tongue and maintain eye contact with him as you do just that. You inhale a deep, steady breath just as he guides your head down again. His thick cock slides between your parted lips, glides over your tongue, and nudges against the back of your throat for the third time. “Fuck, just like that.” You still have a couple of inches left to take but you resist, your eyes fluttering closed as you gag around his length. Who would’ve thought choking on Bucky Barnes’ dick would be so fucking pleasurable? “All of it.” Bucky says lowly, pushing your head down enough to make you take the last two inches. He bottoms out in your mouth and a groan is ripped from his chest, making his shaft vibrate against your tongue. You moan around him and he suddenly curls his fingers into your hair and pulls you back. You’re ready for him to say something infuriating, something that’ll make you want to punch out his perfect teeth but deepthroat him all at the same time. It’s what he does best honestly.

            “If you keep pulling me back, we’re going to be here all night.” Even with the taste of his precum on your tongue and his hand fisted in your hair, you’re talking shit. Bucky studies you with a menacing gaze, his eyes traveling over the features of your face slowly as he chooses his words carefully.

            “I told you that I can’t fucking breathe when you do stupid shit, and you asked me to show you what that feels like.” He reminds you, narrowing his eyes. You nod in response. “Squeeze my thigh if you can’t handle it.” Before you’ve even processed the instructions, Bucky’s pushing your head down again and forcing his cock into your mouth. This time, he’s forceful and needy with it. He’s doing exactly what he said and showing you what it’s like to not be able to breathe.

            Up and down Bucky drags your head by his grip on your hair. Up and down along the length of his sizable cock, reveling in the feel of your tongue against his shaft and your throat tightening around whatever he gives it. Your lungs are burning. Your eyes are watering.

            “You feel that? That burning in your chest?” He asks, pushing your head down again and holding it still this time. “That’s how I feel every time you try to do shit on your own, every time you risk your life for no goddamn reason.” He holds you there for another second, until he feels a tear drip onto his upper thigh. When he lets you up for air this time, the look on his face is a mix of lustful and gentleness. He wipes your watering eyes with the pad of his thumb, admiring the fucked-out look on your face as you fight to catch your breath. “You take me so well.” Bucky coos. At this point you might as well not even be wearing any panties, because you can feel your wetness soaking through to your jeans.

            When you’ve just nearly caught your breath, Bucky gives you a small nod before guiding you down again, gentler this time.

            “Your head is spinning, isn’t it? The lack of oxygen makes it hard to think straight.” He’s right. All you can focus on is the wetness between your legs and the way the head of his cock keeps triggering your gag reflex in an unexpectedly enjoyable way. Does he know you’re enjoying this every bit as much as he is? Does he know that you’re wishing he’d done this to you when you were on your knees in that upstairs office earlier? As your head spins and the taste of his still-dripping precum lingers in your mouth, you imagine what it might’ve been like if those men had busted into the room when you were on your knees for the man with the vibranium arm. You squeeze your thighs together and surprise both yourself and Bucky when you nudge your head forward, letting your nose brush against his thigh as you take impossibly more of him into your throat. Bucky lets out a guttural groan and presses his head back into the headrest once more as he fights to maintain control over the situation. He’s just about to let you up for air when he hears a strangled whimper and then feels your body shaking over his lap. He’s quick to take his hand off of your head, thinking you’ve fully run out of breath, but you don’t sit up like he’s expecting. Instead, you start bobbing your head up and down, sucking his dick like it’s all you’ve ever wanted to do. “Shit, baby.” Baby? You’re deepthroating him of your own volition now, taking in as much of his length as you can and then backing off, doing that over and over again as he trembles in his seat. “You’re gonna make me cum if you don’t let up, shit.” He groans, cautiously letting his hand rest on the back of your head again.

            Bucky isn’t the one starved of oxygen and yet he finds himself unable to think straight. He doesn’t realize he’s tugging the tie out of your hair until it’s done. He doesn’t even realize he’s sliding your hair tie over his own wrist, his subconscious mind planning to keep it as a souvenir. What he does realize, is that you’re as close to your own orgasm as he is. It’s why he doesn’t think twice about sliding his flesh hand from your head, down your spine, and into the waistband of the back of your jeans. His touch doesn’t surprise you, but it spurs you on. His fingers dance over the wet fabric of your panties, testing the waters as you suck his dick with a newfound fervency. When he pushes the pointless fabric to the side and plunges a single finger into your cunt without warning, you take as much of his length into your mouth as you can and then you fucking swallow around him.

            “Fuck, you like sucking my dick, don’t you? Look at you swallowing my cock, taking all of it so easily.”

            Bucky adds a second finger to your dripping cunt, sliding them in to the hilt as you clench around him. When you moan around his cock, he can’t stand it anymore. He’s quick to pull his fingers out of you and grip your hair tightly, pulling you off of his cock. You take a deep breath, hating that he stopped you but thankful for the chance to breathe normally for a second.

            “When you moan like that…fuck. I almost—”

            “How am I supposed to swallow your cum if you keep fucking pulling me off?” You ask, your annoyance evident in your tone. Bucky’s eyes widen but his grip on your hair remains the same.

            “Is that what you want to do? Swallow my cum?”

            “Bucky…” You let his name roll off of your tongue in a whisper as you lean in close to his face and wrap one hand around his throbbing hard-on. “Let me swallow.”

---

            All Bucky can think about is the way you kissed him. The way you swallowed every drop of cum he spilled into your mouth and then sat up and pressed your lips to his, the way you dragged the tip of your tongue over his bottom lip before sinking back into the passenger seat has been burned in his brain for the last three days. For the last three fucking days.

            He stands with his back against the cool metal of the elevator wall, staring down at the black hair tie on his wrist. He hasn’t taken it off once, he can’t.

            You sit in front of your vanity, running your fingers over the fading marks on your neck. Is it wrong to wish he’d left you with some kind of permanent reminder of that night in the car? Is it wrong to hate that the marks he left will be gone soon?

---

            You were supposed to be meeting with Fury. You assumed that meant Fury alone, until you found yourself seated right across from Bucky Barnes. You’re two feet away from the man that had his fingers inside of you three days ago, two feet away from the man whose cum you swallowed like it was a cold drink of water on a hot summer’s day. You hadn’t expected to interact with him again after that night. You were benched, after all, your partnership indefinitely suspended with you being taken out of the field.

            When Fury walks in moments later, breaking the thick tension that was beginning to suffocate you both, what he says changes the dynamic entirely.

            Not only is he putting you back in the field, but he expects you and Bucky to spend a week undercover in the lowest place on Earth: Madripoor. A week together.

            When Fury leaves the two of you sitting in the conference room, the tension returns at full strength, swirling around the room and threatening to suck the air out of your lungs. It comes to a head when Bucky’s about to speak, about to say anything he can think of to break through the thick cloud in the atmosphere. He leans forward and rests his arms on the table, opening his mouth to say something, and that’s when you see it. Your hair tie from that night, wrapped around his wrist. His eyes follow the line of your gaze until you’re both looking at the seemingly insignificant piece of elastic.  

            But it isn’t insignificant.

            Bucky Barnes is wearing your hair tie on his wrist, and he has been for three days now.

            When your eyes meet again, that familiar warmth begins to build low in your stomach.

            Tie your hair back.

            He’d said it so authoritatively and you’d listened so willingly. Neither of you is aware that the other is thinking about the same thing.

            The next time Bucky wants your mouth around his cock, he’ll be tying your hair back himself.

TAG LIST:

@sunnyhummingbee @gyokujyn @jenniferpendragon @siciliano13 @ordelixx @crist1216 @twlkdead @claireelizabeth85 @charmedbysarge @blackhawkfanatic @kentokaze @eecummingsandgoings @nyashonality @h2oaffirmations @sadeyes61 @aka-tua-braindump @immortalfangirl @valenftcrush @andrometda @sillysillygoose444 @goddess--mischief @sapphirebarnes @i-l-y-3000 @hereforfun-31 @lesleurs @littleredwolf @imrandomstuffsblog @vici111

#bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #the winter soldier #winter soldier

[moonbaetarot]

Pick a pile

what your future spouse loves about your appearance

1. 2. 3.

Pile 1

Your future spouse loves your features So much that they can’t wait to see your beautiful features on your children. your future spouse loves that you don’t care what others think of you like you wear what you want and you feel happy doing it. someone here may work with animals. they love how you look so beautiful with little to none makeup your just a natural you may like to use non toxic or like natural beauty hacks. This person loves your curly or wavy hair. You have something unique to you and they love this they have never laid eyes on someone like you. They also love your height. Your future spouse loves the details in your face your face is just beautiful to them. There is something about a flower here idk if you have a flower tattoo or a piece of jewelry that’s a flower but they think this really cute. This person thinks you just glow you may look very pretty in nature or in the sunlight. You may dress modest or not show a lot of skin out in public and they like this. They also love the way you look in white. If you wear any type of jewelry or clothing relating to your religion or culture they think this is really beautiful as well.

Thank you for reading loves! 🤍

Pile 2

Your future spouse loves how cute and innocent you look they may take pictures of you and you hold up a thumps up or a peace sign and they think this is cute. They like your small facial features and your side profile is on point. They love your hair the way you style it or just even when you’re wearing it natural. someone here may have many ear piercings Or a belly piercing. This person really loves your “chest” if you’re a woman I’m hearing “perfect for my hands” They are making it known in this reading that they love your “chest” lol. This person really thinks your whole body is beautiful. This person thinks you look very nurturing and mothering. They love your soft features. They think you smell really good as well your sent may be very floral. Someone here may love cherry blossoms. You may wear your hair half up half down. I feel like this person thinks you’re just so perfect like they look at you and just think how did they get this way like they are so beautiful. They are very in wow when they look at you. This person is really going to love the way you look as a mom they are going to find you so attractive just doing mother things.

Thank you for reading loves! 🤍

Pile 3

They love your face when you smile or laugh you may even blush or get red but they think this is cute. I feel like they find your laugh very cute as well. This person likes the way you look in bright colors especially yellow or orange they think it fits your personality very well. This person sees you as happy and bright I feel like when you are happy so are they. You may be a lot smaller then your future spouse if your insecure about being short or skinner don’t be your future spouse thinks your beautiful like that. They love your tattoos if you have any. Im seeing a tattoo or birth mark on your back. You may look really innocent but your not like your an “angle in the street freak in the sheet” this person likes that they are the only ones that gets to see this side of you. You may love reading as well but the books you read aren’t about unicorns and rainbows lol. I feel like your face and eyes are very telling as well like they can tell what you’re thinking just by your face. this person finds you very juicy you just looks so good to them they just wanna take a bite out of you lol. You may dye your hair a lot like one day your hair is brown the next your blonde.

Thank you for reading loves! 🤍

#pick a card #pick a photo #pick a picture #pick a pile #pick an image #tarot cards #tarot deck #tarot reading #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #pick a reading #pick a deck #pick a crystal #pick a number #free tarot #daily tarot #tarot

[nkogneatho]

𝑶𝑯 𝑴𝒀 𝑩𝑰𝑮 𝑩𝑨𝑩𝒀 !!

— old bf!toji x young gf!reader

i think toji with a girlfriend that is so much younger than him is so adorable.

before you, he was just a man with a small room that is always so messy because he is rarely home. but, the room feels so much like home now that you have entered his life. he's never bothered to decorate or do anything. his heart flutters when he finds several photoframes hanging on the wall. one of you and him, a few of just his and a lot of megumi.

toji has never in his life ever clicked a selfie. he is not photogenic at all. so when you poke him to click one with you, he's not sure what to do in front of a camera. you tell him to just be himself and he is still confused. you lift the phone and make a peace sign with your hand, your teeth peeking out as your lips curve in a smile. you click it quickly and scan the photo. it is cute. you put a heart emoji with a wink one and upload it on your instagram. soon, your phone is buzzing with notifications. you open them and giggle. toji is so curious so he peeks and finds people calling him "the rock". He snatches the phone to scan the selfie you took earlier. you look so adorable with your cute little peace sign and smile and there he was beside you with a brow raised looking angry. "delete that shit right now," he orders. "are you kidding me? this is gold. it's going on the wall." he can't help but grin at how you find such silly things funny.

toji who is getting used to texting and wants to be even closer to you so he tries to learn some slangs. you are out with your friends when your phone chimes. you unlock it to see the text from toji.

toji: kys

you almost spit out the coffee you were enjoying. what the fuck is he on? what happened? you immediately call him.

"hello," his voice raspy.

"tojii! why the fuck would you say something like that to me?"

"what are you talking about?"

"the text you just sent me. why did you send that?"

"because i care for you, doll." you were even more confused now.

"you told me to kill myself because you care for me?"

"kill yourself? who said that? i sent K.Y.S." he spelled each letter out loud. "it means keep yourself safe." it takes you a few seconds to absorb and then you burst out laughing. he is not sure what is so funny.

"oh my poor big baby. kys means kill yourself."

oh. OH.

"i—i am so fucking sorry, princess. i was just—"

"you are so adorable. when i come home, i need to go through your google search history to know what other slangs you learnt." he is so embarrassed, he bites his lower lip. but he is also feeling so warm and fuzzy because you called him adorable. who would call a man in his mid 30s adorable? well, you did. and he is so happy about that. happier that he met you.

#jujutsu kaisen #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk x reader #toji fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro fluff

[railingsofsorrow]

don't walk out

[spencer reid x reader]

summary: “we can fight and we can be mad but we can't leave.”  pairing: s.reid x gn!reader  w.c: 1K warnings/content: implied abandoned issues; argument; silent treatment (brief); language; angst.  A/N: guess I'm on a roll today. I just love some angst. 

navi

masterpost

cm masterlist

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“is that supposed to make me feel better?”  

lights had barely been turned on when you spat out a response, breaking the tense silence. your apartment was tidy, nothing out of order, even the pillows where settled two on each edge of the couch like you always did before leaving for work.  

it was the expected. three days away on a case didn't exactly mean your house would turn upside down, would it? unanimated things didn't move on their own. but one thing that was turning upside down was your mood. not only did the journey home came with lots of turbulence, but Spencer had to make an unpleasant comment that made your blood boil. was it wrong that you just wanted to not look at him right now? you were even considering not sleeping beside him tonight. 

“for fucks sake.” you mumbled under your breath when he had stayed silent. he's ignoring you now. great. throwing your work bag on the couch, you didn't even take your shoes off as you moved back toward the door. you can't handle his passive aggressive act and you certainly won't handle his silence treatment.  

“where are you going?” he called out, shuffling out of the bedroom upon hearing the sound of keys dangling. no. no, you're not leaving, are you? “what—” 

“i'm gonna take a walk, spencer.” 

it didn't take a second for him to rush over and stop your exit by blocking the door. “what are the car keys for then?” desperation clouded his tone and you felt guilt building up in your chest, but it wasn't bigger than your frustration.  

“I'm gonna drive.” 

“at this time of the night? you hate driving at night.” 

“are you my father?” he almost flinched at your sharp tone. okay, he deserved that hostility. he's been nothing but rude to you the entire jet ride back home. it's not that you did anything — even if you had done something, it does not justify the way he was treating you —, the case had been hard. it involved kids. the team wasn't fast enough. he wasn't fast enough. you almost got hurt. it was a lot to absorb in a short amount of time.  

he never wanted this: you walking out while you were mad at each other. no. you had made a deal long ago. you both were laughing after your first stupid argument, something about forgetting to fold the laundry.  

“okay, but we can be like this, right?” you said, nudging him. “we can fight and we can be mad but we can't leave.” 

his eyes soften and he almost turns to mush. he understood then that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. and yes. you would be mad and you would upset each other but leaving was off the table. he could do that. there was nothing he'd want more. 

but now he'd cross a line. didn't he? how dare he do that? how dare he cause you do want to walk out? 

“i'm sorry.” spencer is still at the doorway when you ask him to move. he won't move. he can't. “i really am. I shouldn't have said that. it was out of line.” 

“really?” you snap. he hears the edge in your voice and the crack. it breaks him. he just wants to hold you, he never meant—means to hurt you. “then why did you? why would you even think about something like that?”  

he holds back his breath of relief once you've put the keys back in the bowl. the lump in his throat diminishing slightly. 

“i was upset. angry— at the case. the whole situation, not you.“ he clarified. “sweetheart, i'm sorry. I didn't mean it.” you're searching his face for some indication of lie that you won't find. “i'm sorry.” 

“you're an idiot.” your anger is gone, there's just frustration now. maybe at yourself, because you can't really stay mad at him as he stares at you with those eyes.  

“i am,” he admits, no ounce of hesitation in his tone. he's fairly certain he is, in fact, an idiot. “i'm sorry.” he repeats and he will repeat over and over again until you forgive him. he will beg if he has to. “don't leave, please.” 

and that is not fair. it's not. he can't make you mad and say sorry and all will be forgiven. he can't look at you with those eyes and think things will be magically fixed. 

but then your armor cracks. suddenly, his behaviour makes sense. 

we can fight and we can be mad but we can't leave. 

“i wasn't going to—” you're ashamed at this point. you were so blinded by anger that you'd do something you promised to never do. “you know I wouldn't leave, right?” then his desperation in reaching the door before you makes sense and you're taken back to the moment you promised not to walk out in a fight. that's exactly what you where about to do.  

“i'm sorry.” you say, staring at the keys in your hands. “i didn't think before acting.”  

spencer nods slowly, taking a step closer towarss your frame. “and I didn't think before speaking. I'm the one that should be sorry.” 

you caught a glimpse at his twitchy fingers and takes one of his hands into your own, letting the keys slip to the floor as you yank him to your arms. he only complies by squeezing you against him. and finally, both of you have what you've been craving since this case started: each other's comfort.  

and then, you repeat. “i wasn't going to leave, you know that, right?”  

“yeah.” he burries his face into your neck and his voice is muffled by your skin. “yeah, I know.” 

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taglist: @lilyviolets ; @whore-for-spencer-reid ; @yeonalie @ninkieminjaj ; 

#spencer reid blurb #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #reader insert #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic

[charlottemorningstarsdarling]

𝕱𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖔𝖓

Part three of this, but can be read individually:)

Pairing: Alastor x Doe!fem reader

Summary: It’s basically a bunch of snippets of Reader being pregnant (if you would like to read more about it, more scenarios and details, feel free to request!)

Warning: talks of pregnancy(like, a lot), smut, breeding, possessiveness, lactation kink, mentions of birth, etc…

Alastor wasn’t too surprised when a few months after their first mating, her body started changing.

I mean, they were really worked up, all the time. After their first time they stayed in her room and nest for two weeks, barely coming out. Alastor was the one who sent his shadow down to bring them food, a lot of food. He tried to feed her as much as possible.

“You need to eat as much as you can, doe.” He had her favorite pasta, like… a lot of it and he insisted on feeding her himself. So there he was, holding a spoon that was packed with pasta, however she shook her head and pulled away.

“Alastor, I am afraid to gain too much.” Her ears flattened on her head in shame. “What if you won’t find me beautiful? And you won’t want me as your mate anymore…?” Her eyes were rimmed with tears. He gathered her face in his palms, that were as big as her head, he gave her a long kiss on her forehead.

“My darling doe, how could I not find you the most beautiful creature in this world? You’re mine, my mate and my everything. And you are doing the most beautiful things one could do, you’re giving me a little fawn. You’re about to go through pain and discomfort just so we can hold our own in our arms. How could you worry about some extra weight on you?” He knew what calmed her down always, he put her on his lap and leaned her head into his neck, so she could feel his scent more strongly. “You need to nourish your body so you could nourish our baby, your body needs nutrients to produce milk and keep the baby warm.” He rocked her from side to side. That did it. After that, she ate the bigger portions that he gave her.

But, after a bit, it was evident that her weight gain wasn’t due to her eating habits. It was due to the little fawn that was growing inside of her.

Alastor was worried about her, she was not quite herself. She never threw up, but felt nauseous from nearly everything. She also slept whenever and wherever she could. She went to sleep early, woke up late, and still somehow found time to take naps. Husk was actually the one who told Alastor that there could be something up with Y/N. One early afternoon, Husk was cleaning glasses when he saw her out of the corner of his eye, she sat down on the couch with her notebook in hand. He turned away for a second to put the glass back into it’s place, and when he turned back, Y/N was already deeply asleep on the couch.

Alastor was terrified on the inside at first, they finally find each other, only so he could lose her? What if she was sick? He couldn’t bear to see his mate fading away before his very eyes.

All of his worries went away when Y/N got an even bigger appetite for sex than before, they already fucked like rabbits. But now? It didn’t matter where they were or what time it was or what were they doing. No. If his darling wanted to fuck, he would fuck. Luckily, Alastor disliked not having her around the hotel, it was still dangerous for her out there. So, he fucked her on every solid surface in the hotel, with zero shame.

One thing about mates is that after they did their mating, the doe would start picking up certain characteristics from the buck. They noticed the first time when Vaggie pointed it out. Alastor and Charlie were working out plans for the hotel, and of course their partners had to be there for moral support, Vaggie and Y/N were sitting on the cushion in her’s and Charlie’s room, the one that is in front of the huge window. Y/N was staring out the window, completely lost in thought, the other woman snapped her out of her thoughts by gently wrapping her index finger in one of Y/N’s locks.

“This is new, I didn’t know you wanted to dye it, but it suits you.” She smiled, but Y/N looked at her with evident confusion.

“What do you mean?” She tilted her head.

“Your hair?”

“What about it?”

Vaggie only chuckled and led her to Charlie’s vanity, where she held up one strand of Y/N hair, which was… red and with a slight blackish tint at the bottom, along with quite a few locks of her hair.

To the movement, both Alastor and Charlie went to the vanity too.

“Oh. My. GOD!” Charlie shrieked in joy.

“Why, what a pleasant surprise!” He said before noticing that the tip of her ears were also developing a crimson color. He leaned down and started running his finger up and down her ear, causing her to lean into the gentle touch and flatten her ears against her hair.

Weeks went by and the changes became noticeable, Angel Dust immediately planned a brand new wardrobe for her to match the colors of her hair and ears. Even when Alastor had to go into town for business, he always made sure that his Y/N wasn’t alone, it was mostly Angel and Husk who kept her company. It was the situation now, Alastor had to leave for an Overlord meeting, and Y/N was in Angel’s room. He thought it would be a fun activity to have the doe try on his slutty clothes, but she liked it, she felt sexy.

She felt the physical aspects of her change of appearance lately, but she couldn’t make sure.

“Angie, I cannot zip this up! I would hate to ruin it.” She was laughing at herself, she was twirling like a fool, trying to reach for the skirt’s zipper herself, and failing miserably.

Angel pushed himself up from the bed, with a big smile on his face. “Here, let me, that one always gets stuck and I have four arms for a reason!” He tried to make it happen, but something was just in the way. He made her turn around to kneel in front of her, trying to see what was stopping the tiny zipper.

And that is when he saw it…

“HOLY SHIT!” His concentrated eyes changed immediately to surprised ones.

She looked down at him in panic, feeling a sudden pang of guilt, and tears. “What? I ripped it?! I am so so so sor—“

He just stood up laughing and put her in front of the mirror, so she could see herself from the side. She was still feeling sorry about the non existent rip that she didn’t even notice what he was trying to do.

His soft hand came up to her chin, so she could look into his eyes and then he guided her gaze to the mirror. “Y/N, look! There is a reason that the skirt didn’t want to zip up.” His fingers grabbed the bottom of the skirt to pull it lower, revealing her stomach.

Before she even had time to register what was happening, his lower set of arms came up to cup the lower part of her belly, which was slightly swollen.

She was shocked to say the least, but in a happy way. She was still staring at it from the mirror when Angel’s upper arms came to envelop her into a hug.

“Oh, Y/N… You are going to be the best mama, I know it.” After they broke apart from the hug, he lifted one eyebrow. “Sooo… Creepy face fucks good…?”

“…Fuck yeah.” They both started laughing, until Y/N was hit by her pregnancy hormones. One moment she was laughing, she was sobbing the next. Thankfully , Angel stayed with her until Alastor arrived back home. He held her and cried tears of joy with her. He tucked her in with his softest blanket, poor thing needed a nap after shedding so many tears. Fat Nuggets was curled up at her belly, and Angel slept close to her, too. Feeling protective over his best friend who was cooking up something beautiful inside of her.

That explained a lot. Her emotions, her sudden waves of horniness, her constant nausea and tiredness. No wonder all these things were happening to her.

She was expecting a little fawn, her and Alastor’s little fawn. A tiny fruit of their mating.

When Alastor arrived back, he knocked on Angel’s door and the sleepy spider opened it up. He let him in and they both looked at Y/N, who was asleep and cuddling with Fat Nuggets.

“I might just get jealous.” Alastor spoke in a hushed tone, then made her way to her side. He reached under her and gathered her in his arms in bridal style.

After saying farewell to Angel, he took his mate back to their room. He put her in their soft bed and laid beside her, snuggling her into his arms. She woke up when she felt his skin warming hers, this was the perfect opportunity.

“Alastor…?” She whispered, he was looking down at her, admiring his love.

“Hello there, my dear. Had fun with Angel?” He caressed her hair. But she leaned up on her elbows and towered over his side. Her silk nightgown was bigger on her form, so her tiny belly bump wasn’t visible.

“I have something for you…” she smiled, a genuine smile. He chuckled and pushed her strands of hair out of her face, those particular strands were just like his own. It made his primal and possessive self go mad, it was obvious to everyone that she belonged to the radio demon.

He kept looking at her with a love-dazed expression, waiting for her to continue. She pushed the straps of her lacy gown down her shoulders and she started to pull it over her head. “Well, this is certainly a beautiful sight.” His eyes were glued to her boobs.

“I have something better…” She straddled him and kissed him deeply. After a few seconds they were still lost in each other's lips. “I” kiss. “Cannot” kiss. “Wait” kiss. “To fee—“ She pushed her swollen belly into his lower ribs, not harshly, but enough to make him notice. “What is..?” He pulled away and checked her lower stomach, and that was when he saw it.

“My doe…I—“ He palmed her skin, it felt firm, but oh so very soft. His eyes softened and went glassy. His hands could feel the little life inside of her, where their little fawn was nestled into her womb.

He suddenly wrapped her up in his arms and attacked her bump with big smooches. “We did it! You’re carrying our baby, we will have our own baby!”

I think we all know that after Alastor was aware of his doe being pregnant, he practically became her shadow. He followed her everywhere. Helped her with everything, actually… He didn’t help her, he did everything for her.

His protectiveness got on a whole new level. There wasn’t a second of the day when his eyes weren’t on her, or his hands anywhere else but on her skin.

Angel kept his mouth shut, and waited for the two deers to tell everyone the big news, which was a few days after her bump’s appearance. What? They had their own celebrating rounds, multiple of them actually, like… multiple rounds every few hours. They needed each other in their bed and in their arms.

Charlie couldn’t stop crying at the news, she was so happy, she instantly started ordering a shit ton of books about babies. Vaggie was better at hiding her emotions, but she could not stop the smile that etched itself onto her lips, she instantly occupied herself by sharpening her spear. No fawn will ever be harmed on her watch!

As time went by and the bump was clearly evident, Y/N noticed how much others lingered in her presence. Vaggie was looking out for any danger. Charlie always talked to the baby and touched Y/N’s stomach. Angel couldn’t help but buy everything baby-related that he found cute. “What? It is my duty as Uncle Dust to make sure the fawn is a fashion icon from day one.” He said one day when he knocked on the deers shared room, with all of his hands full with shopping bags. Sir Pentious and Cherri were always lingering with Vaggie, their main priorities were protection. Pentious also made his egg bois baby-proof every surface.

They went to Cannibal town to pay a visit to one of Alastor’s dearest friends, Rosie. Y/N was wearing a dress that was tight around her boobs, but flowy at her belly. They made their way to her shop and it was so heartwarming to see the cannibal woman’s smile light up at the sight of them. She instantly ushered the crowd away to take a closer look.

“Oh Alastor! I don’t see you for a few weeks and you bring such a beautiful young lady to me?” Rosie caressed the doe’s cheeks with her manicured fingers. “I’m Rosie, and, oh… My, my. What a beauty you are! I see you two have grown quite accustomed to each other.” She noticed their similar features. Rosie suddenly opened her arms to envelop Y/N in a hug. “Come, come, darl—“ Of course, there was the bump. Her mouth dropped open and her fingers shot up to her lips. (Imagine her facial expressions in the Overlord meeting scenes here haha) “Oh, my darling. Congratulations!” Her hands were immediately all over her tummy. She ushered the pair to sit down., especially Y/N. “Sit down, dearie, you must be exhausted. Carrying that belly all the time.”

They talked and talked. Then Alastor revealed the reason for their visit.

“Rosie, me and my darling talked. And we decided that we would be honored if you could help Y/N deliver our fawn.” Rosie had helped many women through births, so Alastor knew that Y/N and the baby would be in the best possible hands. Who would have guessed that a cannibal could be the perfect midwife?

“I would be the one honored. Of course, I’ll help!” She wrapped an arm around Y/N’s waist to cup her tummy, while leaning closer to her. “We will get that baby out in no time!” After Rosie explaining everything she could about bringing a baby into the world.

If Alastor really couldn’t be around, it was Husk who was around Y/N. One time, Alastor had to discuss business with Carmilla and at the same time a very pregnant Y/N demanded a walk. So, Husk went with her, but not before he made her a sugary non-alcoholic drink that could keep up her energy. On the walk, Husk had one of his wings around her, shielding her and the precious belly from any harm. To say that he was surprised would be an understatement, especially when he felt a little kick against his wing at her belly, it made him get more attached to that little hellspawn. Of course he had a pocket full of his weapon like cards. You know, just in case.

Alastor knew that he was truly in love with his sweet mate, who was carrying his baby under her heart wherever she went. His favorite part of everyday was the hours before they went to sleep. They went back to their room every late afternoon, which consisted of her getting fluffed into the best silky pillows he could find, and him laying his head on her belly. Nothing calmed him down more than feeling his doe’s skin on his cheek and hearing the little movements of his baby.

Y/N was excited and nervous as fuck at the same time. Alastor noticed it, of course. When they went to sleep, his ears perked up to the sound of her constant tossing and turning. He gathered her face into his hands. “What’s wrong, little doe? Anything hurt? Is the fawn kicking up a storm again?” He smiled gently at her.

“What if something happens during the birth?”

He kissed her face, there wasn’t an inch of her skin that his lips haven’t touched..

“Everything will be okay, my doe. You are strong, I know that you are. You will push through it, and you will recover.” She pulled away and sat up on her knees.

“You don’t understand, Alastor. I don’t care about myself. The baby is who I’m worried about, it is all I can think about.” She was getting herself worked up, while Alastor started to bite back a smirk. She didn’t notice the change of her form. “But one thing I know… I would f̸͔̘͚͉̀͗̍̾́͜u̷͇̞̦̻̮͆̈́͐͛̓c̷̮̥̙͇͗̋̃͘͠ͅḱ̷̟͍͎͔̖͗͋̐́ǐ̵̡̙̼̼̻̈́̍͝n̵̜͖̠̰͎̊͋͊̋͛g̴̦̥̜̜͍͂͂̀̀̔ ̷̤̖͕̬̹͆̈́̐̏d̷̡̧̺̦͕̾̓̃́̅ì̵̙̼̖̯̈͒͐̽ͅé̴̱͎͇̫̝̂́̈́͊ ̴͉̩̜̼̞̏́̽̍͝f̷̭͓̬̘̠̓̔͗́̀ǫ̵̖̤̬̭̾́̀̒͝r̷͎̤̬̦̞̎́̓͆̚ ̸̹͍̭̖͚̄̄̈́̏̄ȍ̷̱͔͉̠̲̆͛̀̿ȗ̸̡͍̮͍̞̀̋̈͂r̶̛̘͍̟̜̮͒̎̑̈́ ̶̜͕̼̝̓̾͊͛͘ͅf̴̨̤͙̰͇͋̓̿̐̕ȁ̸͔̹̯̲̗̅̉͂̽ẘ̸̥͙͔̠͎̊͗̓̚n̵̡̯͎̝͓̽͊̒̉̀.̸̱͓̺͍̔̑̑̿̏ͅ”

Her voice went static, like his does. Her limbs became longer and her eyes went red. Even with her demonic form, her belly still poked out. He sat up and grabbed her face, suddenly pulling her into a passionate kiss. She instantly went back to her proper form, kissing him with nearly twice as much passion. She straddled his lap, already grinding against his hard on, while his claws ripped her nightgown. “God, you make me fucking crazy.” He said while she grabbed a hold of his pajama button up and ripped it apart, sending buttons to fly everywhere. By the time his mind had acknowledged it, she was already taking out his leaking hard cock out of his underwear.

His sharp teeth kept on nibbling all around her neck. “Not a bad form, my doe, becoming too much like your mate?”

She chuckled. “Yeah, but I don’t think it really bothers you, does it?” Her hands wrapped around his erection, feeling how hard he got from the sight of her, and lining it up with her entrance.

“Oh—How could it bother me? My mate, forming into a demon before my eyes, with a big belly. Don’t worry, you looked so very sexy… I just want to…” He grabbed a hold of her wider hips and pulled her down onto his cock. “Fuck you so hard that I knock you up again.. You look so amazing, I can finally grip you properly.” His nails nearly broke the skin on her hips.

She was riding him as if her life was depending on it, swirling her hips and bouncing up and down. He started pounding up into her, meeting her thrusts, feeling the deepest parts of her. He noticed her nipples beginning to lactate, so he latched his lips onto her, sucking harshly. She was surprised when he did that, but moaned with a deep voice. It was so intimate, it also made him fuck up into her way harder than before.

“You’re so beautiful. So gorgeous.” He felt her orgasming around him, so he filled her up with his seed. She fell against his chest, heaving and tired.

He started caressing her back. “Good girl. You’re so good to me… Taking care of me so nicely, while holding our fawn within your womb.” He leaned his head on the top of hers, enjoying the way her soft ears made his skin tingle.

“You’re going to be the best mother, my love.”

Still no fawn! Don’t worry, there will be more, I just went overboard and I felt like Reader giving birth in this would have made it too long:)

Taglist: @jyoongim @lovingyeet @adamwarlockislife-blog @that-dumb-bitch @midorichoco @alastorswifeee @littlekacchan @sugurubabe @captainfia @alastorssimp @iheartalastor @speedycoffeedelight @1o-o

#alastor #alastor fanfic #alastor fanfiction #alastor fluff #alastor smut #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x you #alastor x oc #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader

[hsllfirescoopsreblogs]

✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*

「 ✦ aaron hotchner ✦ 」

╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all aaron hotchner stories i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) some will have summaries if provided <3

┌──────────────────┐

MASTERLIST ✈️ CRIMINAL MINDS ✈️ 4/25/24

✐ @luveline

✎ sick of maybe

✑You worry your boyfriend is ashamed of you. This is very much not the case. Or, 5 times Hotch hid your relationship (+1 time he didn’t).

✎ a solitary mistake

✑ You're not sure you're ready to come back. Hotch has total faith in you. Or, your transition back into the team after your abduction doesn't go as smoothly as you'd hoped. 

✎ spontaneous phenomena

✑ Hotch touches your face much more than a boss should. Or, 5 times you have a nosebleed +1 time Hotch does.

✎ love, an abstract concept

✑ You learn how to be someone’s girlfriend. Or, 5 times Hotch raises your expectations (+1 time you raise his).

✎ if things go bad

✑ when an unknown intruder breaks into your apartment, you call hotch. he races to make it to you in time.

✎ bau!reader

✎ bau!reader

✎ bau!reader

✎ doctor!reader

✎ pregnant!reader

✐ @dudeitiskarev

✎ my one and only

✑ It’s Derek and Savannah’s wedding, and to Hotch, you’re the prettiest person in the room.

✎ i want to hold your hand

✑ Hotch sends you home and you almost die, which only makes him realize how much he truly loves you.

✎ jealously

✐ @kimstills

✎ some reassurance

✑ in which you try to provide aaron with some reassurance after he asks for his worst qualities.

✐ @ssahotchnerr

✎ something good

✎ rom coms

✎ according to plan

✎ makeshift

✎ something exhilarating

✎ like dad does

✎ public displays of affection

✎ stay with me

✎ not so friendly competition

✐ @greg-montgomery

✎ request

✐ @headkiss

✎ something more

✑ you and aaron are friends with feelings more obvious than you think. or: 5 times the team suspects you and hotch are dating +1 time they know it.

✎ steady hand

✑ hotch catches you at the worst times, but you’re not mad about it. or: 4 times you need hotch’s help +1 time he needs yours.

✐ @honeypiehotchner

✎ gold star

✑ You’re Jack’s teacher and Aaron is basically your nemesis. Until he’s not.

✐ @chvoswxtch

✎ baby

✐ @hotchfiles

✎ half asleep takin’ chances

✑ there was no way around it, he needed an actual babysitter. so he finds you. and then he gets home to you adorably sleeping with jack on the couch to spider-man.

✎ no rainfall, no sunshine

✑ if there was a god, he wasn’t merciful, he was bloodthirsty, and he had a vendetta against aaron. he’s cursed, he knows it.

✐ @hotchscvm

✎ three cents

✑ you butt dial your boss during a girls night … the girls night where you told them you’d fuck aaron hotchner for three cents.

✐ @erwinsvow

✎ coffee, black, two sugars

✑ aaron hotchner is a lot of things. in love with you is one that you never saw coming.

✐ @atlabeth

✎ too sweet

✑ a night out makes hotch realize a few too many things.

✐ @ptersparkers

✎ reckless

✑ After two years with the BAU, you get the feeling that Aaron Hotchner isn’t your biggest fan. That’s too bad, because you really like him.

✐ @spacecowboyhotch

✎ in the east and west

✑ hotch and reader realize some things.

✐ @velvetcloxds

✎ bias

hopefully all links work, let me know if not <3

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner request

[crystallilytarot]

MDNI 18+post

Choose a vehicle! How will you turn them on unintentionally? (your crush, your future spouse, your current partner...)

Actually it's not just turning them on, but some things they will find attractive about you, and you maybe don't expect this.

Pile 1

When you are moving, like working out, doing some chores. Also when you walking in front of them, because they like your behind very much. I see you cooking or doing a hobby, and you are focused, they will find it hot. When you are confident and when you say something smart or something unexpected. When you are fresh out of the shower, still wet. Maybe you two will get caught in the rain one day, and they will find you hot all wet.

Pile 2

Every time you are naked or just don't wear a lot of clothes, like when you start to dress up in the morning. They just love your body. When you just woke up, they will love your morning face, your morning voice. When you are nurturing and caring. But also when sometimes you need to be a little more practical, logical. They think you are very smart, you probably have a good humour too. When you smile. When you are a little bratty, or grumpy, they find you adorable.

Pile 3

Maybe sometimes you spend many times to choose or it's sometimes hard for you to multitask, but they will find it cute. You can be sensitive, a little bit of a romantic, but it's all good, because they will like this about you. I think they are a little bit of a romantic too, maybe just deep down. When you are passionate about something. When you dress up, it's different for everyone, but I feel the word pretty. Pretty clothes, I feel a little bit more like a feminine energy from you, and they will like it.

#18+ tarot #tarot #free tarot #pick a card #pick a pile #tarot community

[ghouljams]

I’m obsessed with the idea of turning the sensitivity up super high on Android!Ghost‘s dick. Making him all overstimulated and he just doesn’t know what to do bc he’s not used to this!!! He’s just whining and writhing, completely lost on whether to buck up into the feeling or to run away from it!!! Poor baby doesn’t know what to do with himself of where to put his hands :( 

(I also love the idea of his systems overheating, but idk if he can do that LOL)

When you were designing the orgasm programs this was a definite concern. Finding the right balance of sensitivity and system wide responses was certainly difficult. There was a lot of testing that went into each iteration. Which meant calling Ghost into the workshop and hooking him up to your computer to run the programs. Just because you haven't hooked up the main component doesn't mean you can't test the software, and the orgasm itself is what you're really worried about.

Of course coming with no build up would be a shock to anyone's system, but especially for an android that hasn't had one in, well, ever. You hook the last of the wires into the back of Ghost's head, careful with each port and line. You press run and watch the screen for system malfunctions, watch the file upload and and fill up as the entire thing warms up.

Then Ghost jolts, chokes, and grabs the edge of the worktable. His back arches and his hips buck, body searching for something it doesn't have the subroutines for, the equipment for. Reflexively he grabs for where his dick would be, if you'd installed the prototype for this test, and when his hand finds open air it squeezes into a tight fist. A low, broken swear drips from Ghost's synthetic vocal cords, something garbled and lost in the translation from thought to speech. You're a little worried the angle of the arch in his back is going to snap the new spinal plate you installed. He's so tight, held taut like a bow being pulled back and back and back.

Warnings flash on your screen. Red levels and bars the fluctuate too high too fast. System overheating. You can see smoke starting to drift from the seams around his neck, and rush to pull the program's plug. A few deft keystrokes and Ghost collapses onto the workbench, his chest heaving as his cooling systems kick into high gear. You rush to unhook the wires and he catches your fingers in one big hand.

"Just gimme a minute," He tries, you can almost make out the sound of breath ghosting over the sound, "then we'll run it again."

#cod x reader #x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #mw2 ghost #ghost cod #android!ghost #cyberpunk au #gn!reader