#(but not really - this is actually for Extras)

[honeyncherry]

we never tell - joe burrow

summary some mistakes only happen once — others walk through the front door and say "hi" to your mom

content 18+, suggestive, angst

"Did you take the pie out?!"

Your mother’s voice slices through the kitchen, sharp enough to rattle the glassware. You jump, nearly dropping the bowl of mashed potatoes you’ve been absently stirring for the last five minutes.

“What pie?” you ask, half-turning, but she’s already storming past you, yanking the oven door open with the kind of urgency that suggests an actual crisis is unfolding.

“The pecan pie!” she exclaims, fanning at the billowing heat. “The only thing your Grandma asked for, and I swore I told someone to take it out fifteen minutes ago.”

From outside, your dad’s voice drifts in, relaxed and completely unconcerned. “Everything alright in there?”

“No, it is not alright,” your mother yells, slamming the oven shut with enough force to rattle the stovetop. “It’s burnt.”

Your brother, who has been supervising (read: drinking beer while Dad does all the work), slides the back door open and peers inside. He takes one look at the situation: the scorched pie, your mom’s mounting frustration, the way you’re gripping the counter like bracing for impact.

“Doesn’t look that bad,” he mutters.

Your mother whirls around on him so fast that he takes an instinctive step back. He quickly retreats outside without another word — back to whatever life-threatening experiment he and your father are attempting with the turkey.

The kitchen reeks of cinnamon, nutmeg, and impending disaster. The house is thick with the kind of tension that comes from too many relatives packed into one space for a holiday. The sound of football blares from the living room, clashing with your aunts' chatter at the dining table.

And yet, beneath all of it — beneath the burnt pie, the inevitable migraine, the impending cycle of small talk you’d rather gouge your eyes out than endure; there’s something else.

Something off.

It’s been crawling up your spine all morning. Clinging to you like static. No matter how many times you roll your shoulders, shake out your hands, try to shove it down, it sticks.

Because you’re carrying a secret.

A big one.

The doorbell rings. A welcome interruption.

“Can someone get that?!” your mom huffs while elbow-deep in pie dough, already moving on from disaster to damage control.

Your feet move on autopilot.

You pull open the door.

Robin Burrow beams at you, bundled against the November chill, her blond hair peeking out from under a knitted beanie. “Happy Thanksgiving, sweetheart!” she says, pulling you into a warm hug before you can even register the cold seeping into the house.

Robin Burrow, who has been in your life for as long as you can remember.

Robin Burrow, who’s practically a second mom.

Robin Burrow — who is very much not the problem.

She and your mother met in elementary school and never really drifted apart. Not through high school, not through college, not even after careers and marriages and kids forced miles between them. They always found their way back to each other, the kind of lifelong friendship that made family out of people who weren’t technically blood.

The Burrows were always there.

When you were little, Robin was the mom who never let you feel left out. The one who snuck you extra cookies when no one was looking. Who let you curl up next to her on their couch during sleepovers when the boys had long since passed out. Who kept bandaids in her purse for scraped knees, and kissed the tops of your heads before sending you back outside to play.

And there was Jimmy whose deep voice and easy laughter always filled a room. If Robin was a second mom, then Jimmy was a second dad. Miraculously, one of your father’s closest friends. Always at every backyard barbecue and every football game. All milestones your families celebrated together.

Then, of course, there were the boys.

You were always a little on the outside when it came to them. Not in a bad way, just in a natural way.

The Burrow brothers were thick as thieves, and your brother fit seamlessly into their chaos. You were the wildcard, the youngest, always just a step behind.

At first, it was all of them: Jamie, Dan, Joe, and your brother. A whirlwind of shoving and shouting and sprinting barefoot across the backyard. But as the years passed, the older Burrow boys got driver’s licenses, girlfriends, and jobs. They didn’t have time for reckless backyard football or pointless dares anymore.

Eventually, it was just Joe and your brother.

Their bond only tightened as the others moved on.

And you?

You were still on the outskirts.

Your brother and Joe let you join in on football games when they needed an extra person, but even then, you weren’t really one of them.

Joe was polite. Quiet. A familiar presence, never more, never less.

A fixture at every family event, a familiar face in a sea of familiar faces. You exchanged small talk: How’s school? How’s football? when your moms forced you into conversation, but it never went deeper than that.

Joe was your brother’s friend.

A name you knew.

A person you’d never really known.

And yet, your breath catches — because now, that Joe is stepping inside.

Except he’s not the same to you.

His broad frame fills the doorway, cold air curling around him like it doesn’t want to let go. He drops a duffel bag (no doubt packed for the annual flag football game) to the floor with a quiet thud.

His shoulders rise with an exhale, the muscles in his neck flexing before his hands shove into the pockets of his LSU sweatshirt. The sweatshirt hangs loose over his frame, but you know what’s underneath.

You remember it.

His hair is still damp, fresh from a shower. The sight of it sends a jolt straight through you because you can recall what it looked like last night — messy from your hands, sticking to his forehead, his jaw slack, breath ragged.

He was wrecked.

Because of you.

You remember the way he tipped his head back with a groan, the way his fingers dug into your skin, the way his voice cracked when he said your name.

And now?

Now, he’s the picture of control. Completely casual and unbothered.

He scans the room like he doesn’t feel the weight of your stare. Like this is just another Thanksgiving. Like he didn’t have you pinned beneath him, dragging desperate noises from your swollen lips.

He pretends his hands hadn’t been everywhere — gripping, teasing, taking.

Like his mouth hadn’t been on your skin, branding you, unraveling you, ruining you.

Your stomach twists violently.

Because he had.

You slept with Joe Burrow, and now he’s standing in your parents’ entryway — smiling, hugging your mother and shaking your dad’s hand like he wasn’t inside you less than twelve hours ago.

The warmth of the house turns suffocating.

Your mother gushes over Joe, her voice painfully oblivious. Oh, you’ve grown so much! You look amazing! It’s so good to have you home!

His eyes flicker to you. Quick. Too quick.

But you feel it.

Because the last time he looked at you like that, he was above you.

One drink turned into another.

A conversation turned into a touch.

A touch turned into his lips dragging over your jaw. 

"Tell me you want this." 

Your answer wasn’t a simple yes. It was a plea. A confession. A surrender.

Yet now, his jaw tightens. He blinks once and looks away.

Like nothing happened.

Like you don’t still feel him everywhere.

And somehow, that makes it worse.

a/n: i have lotsss of ideas for this au but send in any specific requests of what you'd like to see !

[fleuriion]

✦ Chiming Bell ノ MODERN! High school hcs with the Chrysos Heir because I love them so much ⸝⸝ gn reader ⸝⸝ wc: 1780 ✦ Note ; The usual grammar error and spelling mistakes warning ⸝⸝ if they come across as ooc then I apologize because I'm still not very confident in my ability of writing HSR characters haha ⸝⸝ This can be interpreted as both romantic and platonic as your liking! ⸝⸝ will probably edit out some mistakes ⸝⸝ I'm very sorry for not including Hyacine TT

♡ Phainon ⸝⸝ I feel like he's kind of a jock BUT also not a jock. Like, he's not THOSE jocks that get angry at you if you cannot catch the ball that is beaming at 1000 mph to your face. ⸝⸝ Those popular kids that are actually super nice to everyone. I feel like he doesn't judge people much and if he does dislike someone, will not rub it in their face unless they deserve to. ⸝⸝ Basically just a ray of sunshine. Definitely has Mydei as his seatmate and I just imagine Phainon walking into class greeting everyone every morning and then Mydei is just sitting there massaging his temple, wondering how he's so bright this early. ⸝⸝ While he's generally super nice, I think Phainon is also pretty mischievous though. I can already imagine him getting into some light troubles and then having to sweep the hallway as a punishment LMAO. ⸝⸝ Probably enjoys learning history and literature, he just gets super sleepy and perhaps bored in them. Decent at math but HORRIBLE at science like chemistry. Phainon comes up to Mydei as lab partner and Mydei prays the two of them don't get involved in any sorts of explosion or chemical accident /j ⸝⸝ When Phainon is pinning on you, he will 100% turn into a golden retriever. Follows you around in a non-creepy way, helps you carry stuff, probably tries tutoring you the best he could, sometimes ask to have lunch together and then drags you to the rest of his friends. ⸝⸝ Gets super shy about it and it didn't escape his friends. Also gets not bullied but teased a lot for it, when you walked past them far enough, I feel like most likely Mydei would go "holy shit is that Phainon's lover walking past by just now?!" ⸝⸝ When he announced that the two of you are dating to his friends, they would hold their pearl necklace and pretend like they're shocked (except it's so purposefully exaggerated it's hilarious wow Phainon you're so slick!) ♡ Aglaea ⸝⸝ I hc'd that the Chrysos Heir is basically akin to the Student Council in the modern world, so expect no less that Aglaea is definitely the president or at the VERY least the vice president. ⸝⸝ That one strict classmate who always looks her best and behaves the best too. Probably a class president or rep too?? Would reprimand her classmates or the other students to mind both their attire and attitude. ⸝⸝ Teacher's pet, except she's one that you can't really walk over or trample. Girl just has that aura in her for not only being smart but also beautiful?!?! (My GOAT Aglaea as always) ⸝⸝ Looks scary at first glance, but if you need her help with studying she would help say no more! That one meme that goes like "would you let me copy your homework?" "no, but I'll help you with it" ⸝⸝ This may sound pretty personal and specific but hc that she excels and enjoys public speaking. Her words and articulations are probably amazing if you get what I mean... ⸝⸝ Honestly, if she is pinning on you? Nobody would pretty much find out about it unless she personally said so. I'm sorry but Aglaea strikes off to me as the type to be super good at hiding aka slick with her feelings for someone. (Ironically for being the bearer of Mnestia's coreflame in lore lol) ⸝⸝ So when she told her friends that you two are dating, their surprise is actually real and pure. ⸝⸝ It's still noticeable though subtle tho! Aglaea will be extra mindful of you and will no doubt worry about your grades and your performance. Would help you study even if it takes time say less! ♡ Mydei

⸝⸝ Similarly to Phainon, seems like a jock but isn't too much of a jock once you get to know about him. I think it's pretty much just a first impression since he's physically well built and healthy. For someone with his looks, Mydei is a pretty quiet and calm seatmate, ones targeted by people who is just full on comical nonsense (Trailblazer for instance…. They're so stupid I love them).

⸝⸝ Seemingly messy appearance (that slightly loose collar and messily tied tie fix that rn Mydei i hate hastily tied tie and sometimes spends 5 minutes redoing it if I couldn't get it right sobs), but is actually very discipline and a pretty decent student. Also hc that he uses reading glasses.

⸝⸝ Bluddy is probably the first to arrive at class and is usually pretty punctual with a few exceptions being made. Definitely that one friend who sleeps early and wakes up early. Probably lets you copy his homework just so you can get off his ass.

⸝⸝ Excels at history, terrible at math, probably decent at chemistry??? Hear me out though, he's terrible at math and physics but he's interested in them so it's kind of a party pooper LAMFAO (self projecting). Mydei doesn't hate it, he probably just doesn't understand it.

⸝⸝ Those type of guys that people are scared of because of his appearance, but is actually good with juniors. He helps them with studying and getting the subject's concept wrapped around their head and somehow patient for a man that doesn't look like he has patience at all.

⸝⸝ When Mydei pins on you, he won't look nor act THAT much different around you. If you're a much more comical or hilarious kind of person, he endures and tolerates you more. He will offer more lending hands though; for instance, explaining things you don't understand more, willingly tutors you, sneaks gifts into your desk or locker and then softly denies it when questioned (you're not slick bro.)

⸝⸝ Mydei doesn't announce it if you two are dating, rather, his friends found out on their own by the slight flush on his face when he's around you and the way his fierce eyes seemed to simmer down a little when you're around.

♡ Castorice

⸝⸝ SUPER quiet and probably finds it hard to communicate all the time. The reason people know her is mostly because she's apart of the Student Council, but that aside, she's also super kind and nice!

⸝⸝ Hangs around Aglaea a lot and acts as her 'assistant' or similar. Also a teacher's pet except on the more mellow side and one that even the meanest of the mean doesn't have the heart to mock.

⸝⸝ She probably could be vice president.. But that's just a rough gut and because I see her as one. Also reprimands her classmates and other students to be mindful of their attire and attitude.

⸝⸝ Generally good at any subjects given, but I hc that Castorice really likes art and music classes. The atmosphere is quieter and much more peaceful that even her mind could rest a little. Definitely joins clubs like sewing club.

⸝⸝ Sometimes sleeps on recess because I see her as those super-tired looking type of people who can doze off while standing but refrains on doing so in classes. Due to this, probably picks the seat closer to the window to hide away from the lights at the center of the class.

⸝⸝ When Castorice pins on you, she will subtly get super shy around you. Sometimes stutters on her speech and is extra polite at you much to the awkwardness. Be prepared for cuteness overload!!

⸝⸝ Castorice definitely makes things for you! A small crochet plush, flower crowns, or some fake flowers that reminds her of you. Surfs into flower language to express her affection to you by making said flowers for you!

⸝⸝ Castorice would reluctantly yet shyly declares her love for you one random evening, and the rest of the Chyrsos Heir is totally NOT spying at you two from behind some bushes. ♡ Anaxa

⸝⸝ This man is canonically a professor according to the in-game lore what else do I need to say??

⸝⸝ That one smart kid who's super snarky and sarcastic. If you think Mydei is pretty sarcastic for someone, then behold Anaxagoras and his sharp yet elegant tongue that totally does not remind me of a certain doctor.

⸝⸝ He definitely no doubt enjoys subjects science related. Chemistry, physics, biology, name it. Yet nobody really dares to approach him and ask him to be their lab partner due to, again, the aura that surrounds him. You feel like you're shrinking per second you stand next to him if you don't know anything about him. Also hc that he enjoys scientific debates.

⸝⸝ He probably goes overseas to attend science olympics like a lot, and obviously comes back with victory by his side. He's probably academic rivals with Aglaea haha. I can just see them competing for the school's 1st place.

⸝⸝ Anaxa gets avoided by plenty people because of his personality, but he doesn't pay any mind nor does he care about it. After all, his only interest currently is knowledge, isn't it..?

⸝⸝ Well that's until you, who doesn't seem to be that much avoidant of him, came along to his life. Anaxa is that one person that goes deep into denial when he has feelings for someone. "NO. WDYM I HAVE FEELINGS FOR THEM. FUCK."

⸝⸝ The rest of the Chrysos Heir found out about this when one random day, Anaxa suddenly came up to Hyacine and started asking her questions related to feelings that are leaning a little bit tooooo much on the romantic side (much to his dismay and denial). Even with his denial, he found himself coming up to the pink haired girl and asking her about this… Very foreign feeling of what she described as "butterflies fluttering in his stomach" and a suspiciously big grin on her face.

⸝⸝ Like Phainon, Anaxa doesn't escape the constant teasing from the Chrysos Heir for this, mainly Aglaea. She will devilishly giggle into her fingertips and make subtle jabs at him when she talks to you; "[name], do you have just any idea how breathtaking you are?" while giving Anaxa looks to which he responded with not only a glare but a suspiciously burning pair of ear tips <3

[mrsjellymunson]

The Biology Tutor

Lesson 3: Human Reproduction

Series masterlist

Prev parts: Lesson 1: Female anatomy Lesson 2: Male anatomy Extra Credits 01: Communication skills Extra Credits 02: French Independent Study 01: Art Independent Study 02: Creative Writing

Pairing: virgin!Eddie Munson x fem!tutor!reader

Series summary: Eddie’s failing Biology class, so you decide to offer two different styles of tuition, textbook-based and *ahem* practical.

Chapter summary: Grades, feelings, and a practical lesson in human reproduction

WC: ~14.6K (oopsie/I’m not sorry/you’re welcome)

C/W: 18+, SMUT, NSFW, MDNI! Fluff, smut, fluffy smut, smutty fluff, fingering, clit stim, nipple play (M+F rec), p in v sex (protection is discussed; always wrap it irl), pantie stealing (consensual), aftercare, feelings, slight cream pie, brief mention of food and eating, reader wears a short skirt, Wayne Munson. I’ve tried to keep physical descriptions of reader as neutral as possible, lmk if I need to change anything. 

My masterlist

You and Eddie have decided it’s best if you keep your whatevership between the two of you, at least for now. Neither your friends nor family would be thrilled to discover you were giving ‘extracurricular attention’ to the boy the whole town regards as a lawbreaking freak. (Technically, you suppose he is actually both - weed dealing and his general style and demeanour make that statement factually correct, but you don’t see him in the negative way they do.) Furthermore, your teacher may be reluctant to come through on those agreed upon extra credits if he finds out that the lessons you’re offering veer significantly more towards the ‘practical’. So, keeping it on the down-low it is. 

However, that hasn’t stopped you from thinking about your study sessions with Eddie. In fact, he’s on your mind almost constantly. You’ve also both become more brazen in your interactions, and neither of you look away now when you catch each other’s eye in the halls. And you’ll both stare dreamily and smile across the cafeteria as he nibbles on pretzels and you mull over a thorny problem in a notebook, chewing on the end of your pencil.

You’ve spoken on the phone again too. For the most part it’s just as… stimulating as the first time, if not more so, and you're both gaining confidence and are able to articulate your needs and desires with increasingly elaborate and creative language. But to your surprise you’ve also ended up chatting too, and more than once you’ve devolved into fits of hysterical giggles. You’ve never been able to be so open with a partner before, and you’re revelling in the intimacy.

But, he’s not your partner partner. You didn’t mean it like that. You’re fully aware of Eddie’s… situation, and you’re pretty sure he’s not ready for any kind of official commitment. You really need to be careful with your language, or you're going to slip up one day and mess up whatever the hell this is…

On the day of your usual Biology class with Eddie, everyone’s milling around the science lab, waiting to get their test results. It’s the final class before the end of the semester, and Mr Clarke knows better than to expect anyone to do any work, so nobody’s in their seats and the room is filled with general murmur and chatter.

A steady stream of students collects their papers from Mr Clarke at his desk. Yours is near the top of the pile - you being you, you’re always one of the first to head up to find out how you did, and generally, the less… academically inclined students hang back until the end, wanting to delay the agony and prolong their blissful ignorance for as long as possible. 

Mr Clarke passes you your paper, and you spy a large, red ‘A+’ in the top corner. You pinch your face into a scrunched up smile, and you can feel your cheeks heating. Yes, it’s one of your favourite subjects, but you never want to assume anything.

“No surprises there!”, Mr Clarke jokes, as you proudly yet somewhat bashfully look over your work as you head back to your desk.

You’re dying to know how Eddie did, but presume he’s going to wait it out like the other ‘cool kids’, and you don’t really want to rub your success in his face in case it didn’t go well for him, so you slide back into your seat without looking in his direction.

A few moments later, there’s a sudden loud whoop from the front of the class. Everyone turns to face the clamour, and to your surprise you see Eddie standing next to Mr Clarke’s desk, arms aloft and eyes wide, grinning as he shakes his paper above his head like a Tusken Raider.

Wait, did you just make a nerd reference? What the fuck is this guy doing to you?

You try not to stare as Eddie’s gesticulations make his torn Iron Maiden shirt ride up to expose the smooth planes of his abdomen and the dark sprinkling of hair leading down beneath his waistb— You clamp your bottom lip between your teeth, this feat seemingly significantly more difficult for you than passing a science test.

He changes position, hunching over now, and punches the air with one fist, wrinkling his nose and baring his teeth as he stares down at the paper he’s crinkling in the fierce grip of his other hand.

“Yeah! Goddamn B minus! B fuckin’ minus, baby! Wooo!! I am fucking walking that stage, I can feel it!”

A few of your classmates start to clap, and soon most of the class is applauding Eddie, a few even joining in with the whoops and hollers. He bends at the waist and gives a theatrical bow, still grinning, much to the delight of the whole class.

Even Mr Clarke is clapping, ignoring Eddie’s profanity for once and with a broad smile on his face too. Eddie smiles back, extending his hand to the older man, who takes it happily, shaking it and slapping Eddie on his bicep as he says, 

“Congratulations, Mr Munson. I knew you could do it, son.”

Before you’re fully cognisant of what you’re doing, you’re out of your seat and rushing towards Eddie, colliding with his chest with a thump as you fling your arms around his ribs, hugging him tightly. He freezes for a moment, stunned, before his arms move around your shoulders, gripping you tightly, crushing the document even more, before his empty hand flattens over the centre of your back, gently but intensely rubbing up and down.

He drops his chin onto your shoulder, and turns his face so it’s nuzzled into the crook of your neck. You hear him take a couple of deep, slow inhales, and his warm breath fans out over your skin and trickles down the back of your shirt as he adds a contented hum that almost short-circuits your brain. Quietly, you mumble into his chest, 

“Congratulations, Eddie."

Just as quietly, almost like he doesn’t want anyone else to hear, Eddie replies, voice slightly cracking,

"I couldn't have done it without you, Princess…”

You remain there at the front of the class, embracing, rocking slightly, neither of you seemingly wanting to let go. Eddie's palm continues to make patterns on your back, and you keep your arms around his middle. The heat from his chest seeps into yours, and you begin to get lost in his heady scent of cigarettes, spicy cologne and weed, something so quintessentially Eddie.

Behind you, you hear Mr Clarke clear his throat, and you and Eddie break apart as he proclaims, 

“Well, I think that proves that the student-to-student tutoring project is a success! Well done, both of you. Okay, who’s next?”

Keen to minimise further attention from your classmates, you both make your way back to your seats. He sits behind his desk, and you pull your stool to face him over it. 

Eddie’s lab partner offers him a fist bump, adding, “Nice work, dude,” to which Eddie reciprocates and replies, “Thanks, man,” before the guy wanders off to chat to his friends across the room.

You and Eddie stare at each other across the workbench. All you seem to be able to do is grin goofily, and you see Eddie’s cheeks pinken to an even darker shade. Eventually, you manage to speak.

“Well done, Eddie. Seriously. I’m so proud of you, all your hard work paid off!”

He glances down at his paper again, seemingly needing to keep checking it to make sure it’s real, that he actually passed. A slightly incredulous look on his face, he replies, chuckling,

“Fuckin’ B minus. Wayne’s gonna wanna frame this shit, I swear!”

You bark out a laugh, before responding,

“You should let him. This is a big moment!”

You both laugh again before Eddie continues, more seriously this time,

“I meant what I said, you know. I couldn’t’ve done this without your help.”

“I appreciate that, thank you. You know I wouldn’t’ve done it if I didn’t want to, though, right?”

“I know, I know. I just wanted you to know how grateful I am, is all…”

His face suddenly drops, and his eyes fall to the tabletop as he says, more quietly,

“Uh… I guess this means we won’t be studying anymore though, right?”

Something twists in your stomach. You hadn’t considered that this might change things. Thoughts roil in your mind. You don’t want whateverthisis with Eddie to end, that’s for certain, and from his tone you surmise that’s not what he wants either. So you make him an offer.

“Oh, I don’t know, I think I could go for at least one more lesson. Call it a celebration! If you wanted to, that is?”

You’ve barely finished your sentence before Eddie’s almost-yelling, 

“Yeah! I mean, yes, if you want to as well, I mean…”

You try to suppress a smile as you reply,

“I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it. I’m free after school, if that’s any good for you?”

Later on, when Eddie gives you a ride to his place, things feel different, and it’s not just the residual adrenalin from this afternoon’s test results. The anticipation is palpable. It’s like you’re both more relaxed, but somehow also more on edge, as if the air itself is charged and your skin is buzzing. You know where you’d like to take things, but you’re not sure how far Eddie will want to go, so you have a vague plan of offering suggestions but ultimately being guided by him.

You sit on the edge of his sofa feeling uncharacteristically nervous. Eddie brings drinks, clearing his throat as he sits stiffly next to you, occasionally glancing in your direction.

“So, uh, what’s the subject for tonight, Teach?”, he says with a nervous chuckle.

“I, uh, thought we could do some revision. Maybe bring everything together, and go over human reproduction?”

You raise your eyebrows as you say the final two words, hoping Eddie might catch your meaning. He gulps, and his cheeks tinge with a blush.

“That’s not a subject I have a great deal of knowledge about. But, you already knew that, right?”

He titters nervously, the pink in his cheeks deepening in intensity.

“Yeah, I know, Eddie. Um, if you don’t mind me asking, what’s the deal there? I mean, you’re young, fit, good looking. I don’t wanna pry, I’m just curious, I guess?” 

Fuck, really fit. So good looking... Wait, did you just feel butterflies?

Realising your curiosity might have outrun your mouth, you attempt to backtrack.

“You totally don’t have to tell me. God, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have asked you that.”

“No, Princess, it’s fine, really. It’s not like I never, um, had the opportunity. Mostly cheerleaders wanting free weed, or drunk wives or bored moms wanting a bit of illicit fun at The Hideout. For my 18th my dad even arranged a couple of female performers for me. He’s in jail, you knew that, right?” 

You give him what you hope is a sympathetic nod.

“He got a message to a buddy of his, and they turned up after a gig. He instructed me to, uh, take my pick, or have both, if I wanted. So after we’d played, we went backstage, and we talked, and they were really nice ladies, but, uh, it just didn’t feel right somehow. They didn’t say anything afterwards, apart from how I was such a nice boy and if I ever changed my mind I should totally give them a call. And the guys just assumed what had gone on and acted like I was some kind of dog, and I guess I didn’t correct them, and, well, here we are…” 

He’s bashful again, embarrassed at his own apparent reluctance as well as his lack of experience, and you see him picking at the skin around one of his thumbnails. Looking at the floor, he continues,

“I guess I wanted my first time to, I dunno, be a bit more special? Must sound pretty stupid, coming from a hot blooded male, or whatever.”

You both smile as you remember one of your previous conversations and what you’d said. You want to reassure him.

“No, that’s not stupid at all. It’s not just girls who deserve a special first time, you know. Everyone deserves to feel comfortable, and if you haven’t felt that way yet then that’s totally okay. I’m actually proud of you for not feeling pressured into doing something that didn’t feel right.”

He turns his head sideways and looks at you at a quirky angle through his hair, a broad smile threatening to emerge.

“Yeah? Thanks, Princess, that means more than you know.”

You smile back at him, that warmth in your chest spreading throughout your torso. Breaking the moment, Eddie asks, with more than a little trepidation,

“So, what exactly d'you wanna do..?”

Your mind churns with possibilities, and you open your mouth, not entirely certain about what’s going to come out. But before you can say anything, Eddie jumps in.

“Oh, wait. I almost forgot, I have something for you.”

He reaches over to the side table next to him and returns with a lightly rolled piece of paper. Unfurling it, he somewhat nervously presents to you.

“You said you wanted a picture. So, I, uh, drew this for you.”

You take it from him and open it fully. It’s an illustration. A human brain, seen from above, one half of it beautifully rendered in graphite pencil and exquisitely shaded and detailed. The ridges and bumps look like you could almost reach out and touch them. This is incredible enough, but what really catches your attention is the other side. It’s a riot of flowers in different types and colours, overlapping and clustered in a formation that perfectly matches the silhouette of the other half. It’s beautiful.

Your hand comes to cover your mouth and you gasp a little. 

“Oh, Eddie, this is the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen! Did you really do this for me?”

Bashfully, he pulls a strand of hair across his cheek as he replies, 

“Sure did, just for you. I chose the subject for that big, beautiful brain of yours, and then I added the flowers ‘cos, y’know, you’re beautiful. You’ve got it all, Princess.”

Now it’s your turn to feel embarrassed. You really weren’t expecting something so amazing, or to feel like this about it. Or to feel this way about him.

You lift the drawing to look closer at the divine detail, and it’s then that you focus in on the background. It looks like a page from a book, and as you scan the words you see dictionary and thesaurus entries under ‘beauty’, spotting beautiful, beauteous, charming, attractive, lovely, alluring... You’re absolutely stunned.

It’s then that you notice the raw edge on one side of the paper.

Wait. 

“Eddie…” You turn to him, brows furrowing with a mixture of concern and excitement. 

“Tell me you didn’t steal this page from the library!”

“Uh, I may have.” He chuckles lightly. “Hey, it’s not like people use it much. It just seemed so appropriate, and I just, kinda, liberated it for an artistic cause.”

You can’t deny that a vehicle for Eddie’s amazing artwork is likely a far better use for this page than it mouldering away in a dusty school library. And it’s not like you could return it now, anyway. 

Everything about it, from the intentions to the execution, is beautiful. 

You tell Eddie so as you run your fingers over the lines. 

“It’s wonderful, Eddie. I’ll treasure it forever.”

Tearing your eyes away from the art in front of you, you lock eyes with him, and the atmosphere in the room seems to thicken. You’re not sure how Eddie’s feeling, but there’s a quiver in your belly and a heat in your core that’s demanding a significant proportion of your attention. You place the paper carefully down on the coffee table before murmuring quietly,

“Would you like to, uh, do that revision now?”

Eddie shifts in his seat, his cheeks pulling up as he tries to stifle a grin and maintain his composure.

“Okaaaay?”

You shift on the sofa and Eddie can’t help but allow the grin spread across his face. He twists his upper body and turns towards you, and puts one hand beside him on the seat as he drops his chin and peers up at you through his lashes. He looks adorable, a little timid but eager to please, like the world’s cutest puppy, and you let out a quiet giggle.

Coyly, he pulls another strand of hair across his upper lip (he really has to stop doing that) as he broaches,

“Are you gonna test me?”

A sultry smile spreads across your face as you recall the first lesson you had together.

“I taught you a lot of terminology in our first lesson. I wanna see how much you can remember.” 

The tip of your tongue peeks out and teases your upper lip.

You can tell he’s still not sure exactly what you mean, but you help him understand as you shuffle forwards and, perching yourself on the very edge of the sofa cushion, you slowly drift your hands up under your skirt, slip your thumbs into the sides of your underwear, lift your butt slightly and begin to pull them down your legs.

Eddie gets it now, and to your surprise he rushes quickly off the sofa and drops to his knees on the floor in front of you.

“Oh shit, please let me help?”

You smile broadly and allow him to take over. 

His fingertips lightly brush the skin of your thighs. They’re rough, calloused, you presume from years of guitar playing, but the feeling is certainly not unpleasant. You experience a frisson of excitement, imagining how his rough hands might feel running over other parts of you.

He gently hooks your underwear with his fingers and, slowly, continues their descent down your legs. He’s careful, reverent almost, like you’re a porcelain doll and he’s scared you will break. You’ve never been treated with such care before. You feel like a precious jewel, and his nickname for you, Princess, suddenly takes on new significance.

He’s concentrating more now than he has the whole time you’ve been helping him study, seemingly taking in every detail of your thighs, your panties, and, especially, the patch of damp fabric that’s already soaked with your arousal. When his eyes flick up to yours he realises he’s been caught staring, and he gives you a little bashful smile.

He removes your underwear by gently lifting each of your feet. You watch out of the corner of your eye as he quickly pushes the ball of material under the sofa. You don’t let on that he’s not being nearly as subtle about that as he thinks he is. 

Placing one foot on either side of his knees, you part your legs. Then, tantalisingly slowly, you move the hem of your skirt up until it’s bunched around your waist. 

You’ve never seen anyone have a religious experience, but you think the expression on Eddie’s face might come close. His eyes, fixated on your centre, are blown dark and opened wide, and his mouth is slightly open. His eyes are furrowed upwards in that almost-surprised look you like so much, and you see him swallow, hard. 

You feel your cunt clench gently. Yep, you still like him looking at you.

“So… what can you remember, Eddie?”

“I— I—”

You give him a moment, taking the opportunity to drink him in, and watch as his tongue comes out to slowly wet his lips. The edges of his mouth curl in the slightest half-smile, and he huffs out an incredulous breath. He’s close enough to you that you feel it on your inner thighs and core. He looks so good like this, kneeling in front of you. Adoring, pliant, submissive even. Oh, this is new.

You lean forward to lightly hold his wrist, and guide his hand up towards your centre. You can feel him trembling slightly, and remember that this is likely the first time he’s ever touched anyone so intimately.

“Okay, let’s try this a different way. Do you remember what this whole area is called?”

As you ask the question you trace his fingertips lightly across your mound and the soft skin of your inner thighs. You place his open hand against you and curve his fingers to cup you gently, his palm pressing featherlight against your hidden clit and his fingertips nestled in your trimmed pubic hair. He lets out a trembling hum.

“Umm, Volvo. No, wait, vul-va?”

“Yes, that’s so good Eddie.” 

You put on a lilting, singsong voice, letting him know how well he’s doing, and he puffs out another tremulous breath.

You hold his first two digits and direct him to curl the rest out of the way. You guide his fingertips between your folds, and they glide easily through your silky wetness.

“Okay, what about this part?”

Eddie lets out a long, low sigh, and swallows deeply. He’s completely fixated on what he can see and feel. You slide his fingers up and down your soaked slit a couple of times, and Eddie’s jaw drops open further.

“Eddie, are you still with me? Can you remember what these are called?”

“Huh? Uh, l— lips, I think?”

“Good enough.”

You smirk at him, though he doesn’t notice, he’s clearly far too focussed on where his fingers are to care about anything else. You revel in the attention. No one else has ever been this gentle with you, this adoring, attentive, tender. And he’s fucking mesmerised. It’s a far cry from the back-seat fumbles and quick pokes in study rooms that you’re used to. You’re definitely not going to be able to go back to that now.

Desperate for Eddie to touch more of you, you continue his education.

“Next, I want you to find my clitoris. Do you think you can do that?”

You let go of his fingers and settle back onto the sofa on your elbows, processing Eddie’s shocked and nervous expression as he glances up to your face.

“You, uh, want me to do this by myself?”

“Yes, I trust you. If it hurts, or you’re way off, I promise I’ll help. But I think it would be good for you to try. Also, I want to see if you can work out when you’ve got it without me having to tell you.”

His brow furrows very slightly at this; he doesn’t seem convinced that this is possible, but you’re in front of him, spread and waiting, so who is he to question it. He moves his wet fingertips slowly through your folds, gliding easily, studying his path but also flicking his eyes up to your face episodically. You close your eyes and hum, enjoying the sensation. 

As he moves further up you can feel a growing uncertainty in his movements, but just as you think he’s about to give up or ask for help, one of his calloused fingertips glances the side of your clit, causing you to inhale sharply as your eyes spring open.

He freezes, terrified he’s done something wrong or hurt you, but you smile down at him and reassure him,

“That’s so close, you’re almost there.”

He smiles, confidence buoyed, and you notice he’s watching your face now as he moves his fingers experimentally. One sideways movement has a rough fingertip connecting perfectly with your sensitive nub, and you let out an abrupt whine.

Eddie presses a little harder, testing, his mouth still open and the tip of his tongue teasing his front teeth.

You moan, loudly, and your head tips back and connects with the cushions of the sofa.

Boldly, Eddie begins to move his fingers, up and down to start with, which makes you hum with contentment. But when, unbidden, he then starts to draw tiny circles around his newly-discovered treasure, your whines turn to full-on moans.

“Is this it? Am I getting it, Princess?”

You glance down at him again, at that beautiful face now adorned with a smirk that seems to be a mix of experimentation and new-found cockiness. Breathlessly, but smiling, you manage, 

“Yeah, you’re definitely getting it.”

And you let out another long moan as he continues to trace those tiny patterns. You could definitely lose it from this alone, but you want to teach him a little more.

“I want you to do something else as well. Do you remember where my vagina is?”

“Uh, I think so.”

Eddie swallows, as he moves his other hand up towards your centre. He pauses, and, looking from your face to your cunt again, he begins to slowly push one fingertip between your wet folds.

You wince as you feel a slight discomfort, and offer, helpfully, 

“Try going a little lower.”

“Oh, okay, sorry, I—”

“Don’t worry, Eddie, nobody gets it on their first tr— ah!” 

He’s definitely getting it.

You want to reassure him even more, tell him that this is the best you’ve ever felt when anyone’s touched you, but the words dissolve as his index finger easily breaches your sopping hole.

You sigh and close your eyes, enjoying the subtle stretch and finally having some part of him inside of you. But Eddie’s stilled, and you realise he needs more guidance. 

“You can go in further, if you want?”

That’s seemingly all the encouragement he needs, as he pushes further, all the way to his ringed knuckle, and you feel the knobbled metal against your lips. He closes his eyes and begins babbling,

“Oh, g-god, you feel so good. You’re like silk, like velvet. You’re so fucking warm, and so goddamn wet, Jeezus!”

You allow you both to enjoy the moment, before deciding to put your musician’s fingers theory to the test.

“Can I give you some more instructions, Eddie?”

He looks up at you, blinking, seeming to come back to himself.

“Yes! Tell me what you want. Please tell me what to do to make you feel good. I’ll do it, I’ll do all of it.”

Oh, this is gonna be fun…

“Okay, add another fing— Oh fuck, that’s it! Shit, that feels so nice.”

Your hips buck forwards as Eddie slides his middle finger in to join the first, pushing them deep and coating his rings in your abundant slick. He lets out a shuddering hum as your walls clench gently around him and you gasp at the sense of increasing fullness.

“Okay, keep your hand so your palm is upwards. That’s it, I know it’s a little uncomfortable but I promise it’s worth it. Now curl your fingers, like you’re beckoning me. Just gently, not too fa-ah— Oh fuck!”

Eddie’s deft fingertips brush that most sensitive spot inside of you, and your legs tense as your back arches off the sofa. You reach down to grab his wrist. You chuckle, smiling down at him. 

“Okay, stop, just for a moment, otherwise I’m not gonna be able to speak. Congratulations, you just found my g-spot.”

“I— I did?”

He grins, huffing out a breath, and experimentally curls his fingers again, his eyes glued to your face.

“Yes! Fuck, yes!” is all you can manage, as your hands move to grip the sofa cushions.

Eddie pauses for a brief moment, glancing down to look at your sodden core, and you take the opportunity to give him one final instruction.

“If you keep doing what you were doing to my clit at the same time, you’re gonna make me cum. Do you wanna do that?”

Eddie’s voice drops almost to a growl as he splutters, the words tumbling out in a rush,

“Oh fuck yes, Princess. Please let me do that!”

He adjusts his position, shuffling closer to you, his eyes scanning between your face and your cunt. You notice the substantial bulge in his pants and how he’s occasionally shifting his hips, bucking them up into the seam of his sinfully tight jeans.

“So… I just keep doing this, and… this?”

He pumps his fingers slowly in and out of you, curling them as his rings touch your soaking lips, and continues to draw tiny circles around your clit. His wide eyes meet yours, his level of concentration evident. You nod, smiling, and relax back onto the sofa. You lose yourself in the sensations, enjoying Eddie’s ministrations and letting yourself drift away on a sea of warmth and pleasure.

Before long a familiar pressure builds in your abdomen. You let out a loud sigh and your hips buck forward again of their own accord. You hear Eddie’s breath become louder and more ragged, and his movements speed up, his fingers pumping deeper and the pressure he’s placing on your clit increasing just a fraction. It’s enough to start sparks flying along your nerves and have your back arching and your thighs trembling.

You start groaning, almost letting go before you realise you should probably give Eddie some warning.

“Shit, I’m so close. Don’t stop, dontfuckingstop, ohshitohshitohshii—”

The universe stops. Time ceases to exist. Your vision goes black before being filled with a million tiny stars, and a supernova of euphoria erupts from your core and spreads throughout your entire body. You think you hear yourself moaning, possibly Eddie as well, but the sounds seem so far away. 

You don’t notice that you’ve arched your back even further until you regain some sense of reality and realise the top of your head is now against the back of the sofa. Gradually, feeling comes back into the rest of your body, a bone-deep warmth suffusing you as your contorted limbs gradually return to their usual positions.

Your vision finally comes back into focus, and you glance down to see Eddie staring at you, wide-mouthed and somewhat stunned. Propping yourself up on the heels of your hands, you grin as you comment, voice syrupy and possibly a little slurred,

“Fuck, Eddie, you’re good at that. Screw the B minus, you definitely deserve an A plus!”

He gives you a lopsided grin, one dimple popping, and chuckles lightly as, watching your centre, he begins to slowly withdraw himself from you. Your body seems to have other ideas, as your walls clench around his fingers and a small aftershock makes you tremble. It definitely doesn’t want to let him go.

He pauses as he examines his soaked digits, moving them apart and studying your slick as it covers his palm and runs over his knuckles. You think you spot a minuscule drop of his jaw as his hand twitches, but then he stops himself. You’re slightly nervous that you may have misread his movements, but you decide to be bold anyway.

“Do you wanna taste me?”

His eyes snap to yours. They’re wide, like a kid that’s been caught trying to steal cookies. Sitting up a little, you gently take hold of his wrist and move his hand closer to his mouth, giving him permission. His eyes don’t leave yours as he drops his jaw, lolls out his tongue and pushes his sodden fingers into his mouth. Only when his lips reach his knuckles does his gaze falter. His eyes flicker closed and he hums loudly, licking and sucking, cleaning up every speck. He eventually pulls them out, mumbling low,

“Christ, you taste so good.”

You heat at the praise; no one’s ever told you that before. Feeling bold again, you continue,

“You wanna taste me properly one day? Put your mouth on me? I gotta admit I’m keen to see what else you can do with that tongue…”

Eddie gulps audibly as he shuffles forwards and grabs hold of your knees, looking like he’s kneeling at an altar. The altar of you.

“Oh holy shit, please let me do that. God, I wanna get my tongue inside you so bad.”

He’s practically drooling, and the sight of him literally on his knees and begging to taste your cunt has you clenching all over again. But as much as you want that (and you really, really want that), there’s now an aching need inside you that only something larger can satisfy. If Eddie’s willing to give it to you. Keen to bookmark this for another time, you proffer,

“Whaddaya say we make that a whole lesson all to itself?”

He grins at you, seemingly pleased with this proposal.

Eddie rests back on his heels and places his hands in his lap. He’s not ushering you to leave, which is good, but he seems a little unsure of himself. Conscious of how exposed you still are, you start to straighten yourself up, lowering your skirt and checking your hair in case the sofa cushions have done a number on it. 

You have no idea what the protocol is for this situation. You’re aware that there’s likely an issue in his pants that could use some attention, but you’re not sure how to broach it. You know what you’d like to do, but are suddenly nervous and can’t look at him, and start fiddling with the hem of your skirt. He seems to be having the same dilemma, as he asks,

“So, what do we do now?”

He could be expecting a suggestion like watching a movie, or ordering pizza. But you decide to ask for what you want, whilst also giving him an out just in case this is too sudden. You fiddle with your hem again and catch his gaze as you blather,

“Well, I know we’ve kinda talked about this before, maybe not as much as we could have. But I, uh— I’d really like to, um, have you inside of me. If you wanted to. An— and it doesn’t actually have to be now, or even soon. We can totally go at your pace, and I realise I’m asking to be your first, but—”

He cuts you off with a single syllable. 

“Yes.” 

It’s the shortest sentence you’ve ever heard him utter. And in this moment it’s the most beautiful. His face is almost blank, completely serious with an edge of hopefulness etched in his brows. Your chest fills with pride and gratitude. He really does trust you enough to want to do this with you. But what happens next is a surprise. 

“Umm… would now be okay?”

You grin broadly. 

“Uh, no, not at all. Shall we, um… take this to your bedroom?”

He smiles softly before breaking out into a wide but bashful grin.

He stands and, offering his hands, helps you to get up. Eddie makes sure you’re okay to move and, at a pace you can cope with on your shaky legs, gently leads you across the trailer and down the narrow corridor to his bedroom, repeatedly looking at you with an incredulously dopey look.

He pauses with his palm against the door. Looking at you ruefully through his lashes, he warns you, quietly,

“Just so you know, it’s a mess in here.”

You reassure him,

“I don’t mind. Frankly, so long as you’re not storing a rotting corpse or running a meth lab, I couldn’t care less.”

He swings the door open and leads you inside. You step through and take a brief moment to glance around the room, noticing the posters on the walls, piles of clothes, D&D paraphernalia and various bits of band equipment. It’s almost exactly as you’d pictured it. 

Standing in the middle of the carpet, he turns to face you, holding one of your hands in his and fiddling with your fingers. His hesitancy is adorable.

“Soooo… What do we do first?”

You take both of his hands in yours, squeezing them lightly, and through a soft smile you say airily,

“Well, it’s usually customary to do a little kissing. I know you know how to do that, because…”

Your cheeks heat as you remember your library lesson. Eddie’s throat bobs as he swallows, and his gaze flits around your face, settling on your lips as he tries, and fails, to get his breathing under control. 

You gently place his hands at your waist and then loop your arms around his neck, finally getting to sink your fingers into his long, luscious locks. They’re much softer than you thought they’d be, and you feel him tremble as you lightly drag your fingertips across his scalp.

You step towards him and slowly lean in, moving your face closer to his, pulling Eddie ever so slightly to indicate that he should do the same. There’s the briefest of pauses as your lips hover, your breaths mingling, before you both close the minuscule gap.

It’s a little uncoordinated, you two never having done this standing up before, but none of that matters as your mouths connect. Eddie’s lips are soft and pillowy, and the feeling of his hands on your waist, his mouth against yours and that familiar faint vanilla scent completely invade your senses. He has a hint of a five o’clock shadow, and you feel his scruff scratch softly against the sensitive skin of your face. You know it’s going to leave you red and puffy, and you relish being able to take a reminder of this away with you. 

It’s chaste yet passionate as your lips meld and release and find a rhythm. You muss his hair and he hums, and the ache between your legs grows vivid again. You press your front against his, and he breaks your kiss with a soft,

“Oh!”

Wow, he really does want this. A whole lot. You nudge against him again, relishing the firmness you can feel in the front of his jeans. The seam of his zipper only adds to the sensation, and you feel his obvious and substantial erection swell and kick towards you through the stiff fabric. You’ve never wanted anything more in your entire life, but for Eddie’s sake you’re determined to take it slow.

Okay, maybe not that slow. You thumb at the hem of his shirt, and with what you hope is a cute pout, ask,

“Can we take this off?”

He grins, dimples popping adorably, and takes half a step back. You think your own smile might rival his as you grasp the bottom of his shirt and peel it up and over his head. Not teasing, not rushing, the speed is just right, and you bite your lip when his arms lift and his hair fluffs, and you drop the garment to the floor.

You’ve seen him shirtless before, but you don’t think you’ll ever get used to the way it affects you. Eddie catches you staring, and for a brief moment you worry that he’s self conscious, or nervous of your opinion of his physicality. But instead, in a cheeky show of burgeoning confidence, that you hope is somewhat down to you, he murmurs,

“Do you… like what you see, Princess?”

Your eyes continue to scan his chest as you hum in approval.

“Oh yes, definitely…”

You bring one of your hands up and run the tips of your fingers over the tattoos on his pec. Eddie shivers and inhales a shaky breath, and then whines a little as you flatten your hand over the muscle.

Your other hand traces up his waist and abs, making him stutter out a bashful giggle as you hit a ticklish spot, until both hands come to rest on the upper part of his chest, feeling it rise and fall beneath your palms. You look over his torso, his shoulders and throat, before your gaze flicks over his lips and reaches his eyes again.

“I meant what I said before, you know. You’re really pretty. Has anyone else ever told you that?”

“Uh, nope. No, they haven’t. But from you, I believe it.”

You smile softly at him, and run your hands over his collarbones and down the sides of his pecs. Experimentally, you allow the pads of your thumbs to gently skim his nipples. He hisses in a breath, and his responsiveness increases the throb in your core.

You let your hands travel lower, and they come to rest at his belt line. You can’t help but salivate at what you know is beneath as you work his belt buckle open, and then his button. You look up and smile at him as you pull gently on his zipper, lowering it, and he smiles back, shaking his head almost imperceptibly as if he can’t quite believe this is happening. 

You hook your thumbs over his waistband and start to tug. He helps, easing the fabric over the soft swell of his ass as you pull his jeans down until you’re crouching on the floor before him. He sighs as his member is released from its denim confines, tenting obnoxiously in his briefs, and you miss the fond smile he gives you, accompanied by another imperceptible head shake, as you concentrate on freeing his feet.

Once he’s standing in just his boxers, you rise and sit on the edge of his bed, gently pulling on his hands and guiding him to sit next to you. You swivel to face each other, fingers still linked. The two of you somehow manage to make some of the most innocent of gestures seem the most intimate, and there’s a peculiar moment of bashfulness between you. You huff through your noses, chuckling, and you can see Eddie’s cheeks have pinkened again as he looks down at your joined hands, fingers intertwined.

Finally, his gaze meets yours again, and his face is suddenly serious. His eyes flit to your lips, and you take this as your cue to lean forward.

Your noses bump, and initially neither of you are sure which way to turn your head. It’s awkward and sweet and adorable, but when your lips finally connect all of that melts away. You soon both get into your stride, and it’s even hotter than it was in the library. You don’t have to worry about noise, or getting caught, and there’s no time limit - this time you can do this for as long as you want, and the thought of it fills you with a warm sensation that you can’t quite identify.

Eddie’s hand comes up to cup your cheek, and as you run the tip of your tongue along his bottom lip his mouth opens instantly, allowing you access to him and he to you. Without hesitation he plunges his tongue into your mouth, and deftly swirls it around your own, moaning as he moves his hand to grasp the back of your head, just like he did in the library. It’s messy and hot, and with no fear of being discovered you're both much more vocal, sighing and moaning as you move against one another. Eddie’s free hand comes to rest gently on your waist, but you can tell he’s tense and holding back. You don’t want him, or you, to hold back anymore. 

You break the kiss and look at him. His eyes are glassy and unfocused, and his lips are parted, reddened and glossy with your shared spit. In one swift motion you twist, lift one leg, and position yourself astride Eddie’s thighs. Then, to his complete surprise, you teasingly fiddle with your hem for a moment before lifting your shirt up and over your head, leaving you in just your bra. You chose it especially, the delicate lace cups leaving your nipples visible through the sheer fabric.

Eddie’s eyes widen and his jaw goes slack and he’s just… staring, like he’s seeing colour for the first time. You allow him to look at you for a little while, and his awestruck, hungry gaze is almost as effective as his touch for increasing the arousal at your core. You run your hands down his arms until you reach his wrists, which you lift gently, bringing his hands towards your chest. Eddie realises what’s about to happen, and quietly mutters,

“Oh, fuck…”

You guide his hands and his palms are hot as you place them over your flesh, and the heat between your bodies increases as Eddie huffs out an open-mouthed,

“Haaaaaaah.”

His eyes are fixed on your breasts, and he seems momentarily frozen in place. He swallows again, but before you can offer words of encouragement his eyes flick up to yours, an almost pleading look on his face. You nod carefully, slowly, hoping to convey your meaning: go ahead.

You’re successful, and you moan with delight as Eddie’s gaze drops again and he begins to squeeze and mould your heaving bosom like he wants to memorise every curve, every feature. He pushes them together slightly, then up, then apart, all the while massaging them gently with his palms and fingertips. At one point he accidentally grazes your slowly hardening nipples, and it causes both of you to let out startled whines.

He’s humming involuntarily, and more than once you feel his hips roll upwards, positioning the substantial tent in his boxers closer to where you need him. You drift your eyes up towards his pillows as you ask,

“Shall we… get a little more comfortable?”

His nod is swift and it bounces his curls as he immediately begins to shift position. You stand as he shuffles to the centre of his bed and flops down, his hair splaying out over his pillow and his hands clutching mindlessly at the comforter, perhaps to ground himself.

You manoeuvre so your thighs are astride his, your naked cunt not quite touching him and shielded only by the drape of your skirt. You wonder whether Eddie might be catching the scent of your arousal. He’s staring at your chest again, and you surmise he’s got a better view now, with more space between you and the light from the window illuminating you from the side.

His eyes rove your form, and you can’t wait to see what happens when he views a real pair of actual tits for the first time. Locking your gaze on his face, you reach behind you and unfasten your bra. The small jolt as you undo the clasp makes Eddie jump slightly, and his eyes flash up to your face, his eyes saying, is this really happening?

You cover yourself with one arm and slowly slip the straps of your bra off your shoulders before performing a dramatic reveal, dropping the lace to your lap and then sweeping the flimsy garment off the bed and onto the floor.

Eddie’s eyes widen to the point where you think they might leave his skull, and his jaw drops and retracts a couple of times. A strangled sort of noise leaves his throat, and it sounds a little like he’s being gently choked. You check in with him.

“Eddie? Are you okay? Are you… still breathing?”

He inhales, loudly. Nope, he’d definitely stopped breathing. His arms lift a little and his hands hover over the bedsheets. His eyes haven’t left your chest, and you let him know that whatever he wants to do, you’re okay with.

“You can touch them, if you want?”

Eddie huffs out a long exhale, and the warmth of his breath fanning over your sensitive skin brings your nipples to hardened peaks. His fingertips tentatively brush at the sides of your breasts as his thumbs trace the undersides. It’s like he’s examining a precious artifact, and it’s the most reverence anyone’s ever shown your tits, or any part of you. You hear yourself gasp as your centre spasms.

This gives Eddie a little confidence, and he moves to cup your flesh in his hands, his fingers squeezing lightly. This time though, he’s looking at your face, assessing your reaction, seeing how he’s doing. You very much appreciate that he’s ensuring he’s not hurting you, or making an ass of himself, but it’s actually quite the opposite. You let out a tiny moan, and gift him with a louder one when the pads of his thumbs graze your peaked nipples. He does it again, with more intent. The combination of the roughness and heat of his skin feels wonderful.

Unbidden, he brings his forefingers and thumbs together on one side, and pinches lightly. Your abrupt groan surprises both of you, but in a delightful way. He does it again, to both nipples this time, and you groan again as your belly clenches and you involuntarily roll your hips over his thighs, the heat in your core intensifying. 

You let him play for a while, enjoying how he moans and swallows and moulds your flesh. His hands feel so good you’re reluctant to pull them away, but eventually you do, softly placing his arms beside him on the bed as you murmur,

“It’s my turn to touch you now.”

His nervous expression quickly dissipates as you gently lay your hands onto his chest. He’s so beautiful, like an alabaster statue, and he’s warm and responsive to your touch. You run your hands lightly all over his torso, tracing the planes, dips and curves of his musculature, and the designs of his tattoos. It’s simple, almost reverential, though the increased heat in your centre and the breaths stuttering beneath the pretty pink bloom flushing over Eddie’s skin suggest your touch is anything but holy.

There’s something you’ve been wanting to investigate for what feels like a very long time, and you’re delighted that you’ve finally got the opportunity. You run your palms over Eddie’s chest again, but this time allowing your fingertips to skim over his nipples. 

He twitches beneath you, almost flinching at the sensation, but from the gasp he inhales and holds you don’t think this was from discomfort. You repeat the action. His flesh feels soft and velvety, and they’re smaller than yours, but seemingly just as sensitive, and you hear him whimper as they peak beneath your touch. You had no idea a guy’s nipples could react like this, your previous partners never giving them any consideration or allowing you to explore like this. Eddie’s stuttering breaths and the way he’s trembling make you think they were missing out on something really special.

You draw tiny circles around each nipple with the pads of your forefingers, and you feel the bedsheets shift under you as Eddie grips them in his fists. Bravely, you experiment, and you move your thumbs to join your fingers, Eddie’s flesh between them. With the lightest amount of pressure you pinch, just a little, and release quickly.

Something guttural leaves Eddie’s chest, and his breath comes out in a rush. Buoyed by this, you squeeze again, with more pressure and for longer, and this time Eddie’s groan is accompanied by an upwards buck of his hips into the empty air in front of yours.

This is new, and you like it very much. From the deepening pink tinge appearing across Eddie’s cheeks and torso, you think he’s liking it too. You squeeze once more, and release. Leaning forwards and sticking out your tongue, you lick at one of Eddie’s peaked buds before delicately clamping down with your teeth and sucking gently, moaning quietly at the sensation of his delicate flesh in your mouth.

Above you, Eddie splutters,

“Shit! Oh shit! Hnnn!”

Oh yeah, those other guys were definitely missing out.

You decide it’s time for him to experience yours up close too. You lean forwards, bracing your arms either side of his head, the swell of your tits now hovering above his face. His gaze flicks between them a few times before flashing up to yours. You give him a soft smile and nod your head, and he hums as he slides his hands up over your waist, up your sides and over the warm flesh again. 

He moulds them in his hands, making you moan, and to make it all the more obvious what you want him to do you shift so one of your nipples is positioned directly above his mouth. He takes the hint and flicks out his tongue, just grazing your peaked bud at first before gaining in confidence and taking it fully into his mouth, sucking gently at first and then flicking his tongue over it.

You feel a jolt head from your nipple up to your jaw that ignites the entire side of your face with static electricity as another journeys to your core. You let out an involuntary groan, and, buoyed by this, Eddie suckles harder, simultaneously running his thumb over your other nipple. You moan again, your hips rolling over his thighs in search of friction. Shifting beneath you, he pops off one breast and latches on to the other, giving it equal attention and, daringly, pinching the first between his fingers. It’s intense, and glorious, and that electric spark is back, heading directly between your thighs. This is definitely something that’s never happened before.

He unlatches, and you’re a gasping, breathy mess as you move down to kiss him. He lunges up a few centimetres to meet you, and as you deepen the kiss your nipples brush against his chest. He whimpers, and grabs the back of your neck with one hand and between your shoulder blades with the other, pulling you down so your chests meet. You drop your elbows down onto the mattress to get closer to him, and rake your hands through his hair, grasping it and pulling at the roots gently as your hands ball into fists.

There’s no more reverence or holding back now, and your kiss is messy, wet and noisy as Eddie holds you to him, squeezing you together and shoving his tongue seemingly as far down your throat as he can. Your tits are squashed between you, and the pressure of his heated chest against yours is divine. It’s one of the hottest things you’ve ever done, and you can’t quite believe you’re having this effect on each other. You feel the stiff length of him pressing into your abdomen, and he feels so, so ready for this.

You hum as you kiss him for a while longer, feeling his length kick up between you and the dampness between your legs increase. You break the kiss and sit up, smirking at Eddie’s blissed out face and reddened, kiss-bitten lips. Watching him watch you, you open the side fastening of your skirt and peel it off, discarding it to one side, leaving you fully bare on top of him. His face is almost unreadable, such a mixture of emotions passing over it, but you think he might be a combination of reverent, horny and amazed.

You move yourself further up his thighs, finally settling your hips flush across his, settling down close to the substantial wet patch that’s been made by his leaking tip. Your naked centre sticks to the damp fabric as you drag it across his boxer-covered crotch. Ordinarily you’d be embarrassed at making a mess, but something tells you Eddie won’t care.

You were right. There’s no resistance from him, and he groans beneath you as you feel his hefty bulge press against your folds. His hands grip the bedsheets again as he mumbles out in a low breath,

“Oh my god, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful.”

His tone and his words only get you wetter, and you can’t help but roll your hips slightly over him, earning you another groan.

You don’t want to waste your slick on this fabric, and rise up onto your knees. With a playful snap of his waistband, you urge,

“Take these off.”

Eddie shuffles beneath you as quickly as he’s able, There’s the rustle of cotton and you look down in time to witness the slap of his hard member against his stomach. His cock’s flushed a deep pink, almost magenta, is more swollen than you’ve ever seen it, and is already drenched and glistening with precum. It smears across his happy trail as he shifts until, moments later, he’s naked beneath you. 

Still kneeling up, your cunt hovers over his bare form. His eyes scan your whole body, from your eyes to your tits, all over your torso, the soft hair covering your cunt, back up to your eyes again. Bravely, you think, he places his hands on your thighs, and you feel them tremble a little as he rubs and strokes gently. 

Slowly, you lower your hips. You feel your pubic hair brush first, before your warm lips make contact with his shaft and your most personal areas touch for the first time.

Eddie’s brows furrow as the slick warmth of you settles onto him, and his abs tense as he breathes out, low,

“Oh, shiiiiit.”

You’re both still for a beat before you brace yourself, palms placed flat on his chest, and begin to rock your hips, just gently, getting you both used to the sensation of having him pressed against your folds. His cock is hard, yet warm and soft, and Eddie huffs out heated breaths through his nose as you slide yourself along him. His hips start to subtly cant beneath you. By the tense look on his face you think it might be involuntary, that he’s holding himself back. 

You move for a little while before one particularly exquisite movement allows his cock to slip between your folds, and his swollen tip unexpectedly nudges your clit. You gasp and curl in on yourself, involuntarily closing your eyes and clenching your fingers, letting out a soft whine. 

Below you, Eddie makes a strangled hnnng sound before his breath hitches and he inhales quickly, his grip on your thighs tightening. 

Worried there’s something wrong, your eyes flash open. You’re relieved to see Eddie seems to be okay, though his eyes are blown even darker and his jaw is softly parted. You glance down at your hands on his chest, and notice a collection of angry-looking red lines where your nails have dug into his flesh. Horrified, you stammer,

“Oh god, I’m so sorry!”

Echoing your words from your second lesson, he smirks, his tongue flicking out to wet his bottom lip, and he bounces his eyebrows as he admits,

“It’s okay, I kinda liked it.”

Smiling, you lift your hands to his pecs and lightly drag the nails of your pointer fingers further down his chest and ribs, down to his abs. Eddie moans again, and his hips roll upwards, his cockhead nudging your clit with more pressure and causing you to whine along with him.

Fuck, this feels so good, and he’s not even inside of you yet…

You don’t know how Eddie’s doing, but you can’t take much more of this. Feeling that it’s definitely time for his final lesson, you sit up, resting your palms gently on his belly. You’re feeling really good, but also nervous, which you know makes you verbose, and you can’t help but babble out too many options. 

“Okay, so, I’m more than happy for us to go all the way right now. But if that’s not something you want I’m obviously totally fine with that too. But… Shit. I guess I’m asking, do you still wanna… I mean, how far do you wanna go, really, with me?”

Eddie’s eyes search yours earnestly, and the gentleness of his reply instantly soothes your frayed nerves.

“I want it, Princess. I want to do it… all. With you.”

You smile warmly down at him. It’s the best response you could’ve had. He swallows before gesturing to his nightstand.

“Should I, uh… Should we…?”

You realise he’s asking if he should get a condom, and you’re grateful for his thoughtfulness. But you’ve been considering this, and you have an alternative suggestion. 

“Well… I’m on birth control for a period thing, and I'm pretty sure I’m clean because I’ve never not used a condom. I know you’re clean because, well, y’know. So… if you’re okay with it, we could, uh, do it without?”

He’s looking up at you, wide-eyed and mouth agape. All he can manage is a tiny, squeaked,

“Holy f—. P— please.”

Again, it’s the perfect reply. You’re still slightly incredulous that he’s trusting you to be his first, but you’re also excited to take on such a responsibility. You calm your breathing before kneeling up a little, glancing down and reaching between your legs to take ahold of him. You already knew he has the most exquisite cock you’ve ever encountered, and it somehow looks even more beautiful right now. You grasp him reverently, angling him upwards and dragging him through your folds to gather more of your slick. 

He’s hot and solid in your hand, and flashbacks of everything you’ve done so far flood your mind. Touching yourself as he watched, taking him into your mouth, getting each other off over the phone, your first kiss... It‘s all combined to lead you to this exquisite moment. 

Eddie sighs lightly and lets out a nervous hum, and then both of you hold your breath. You lower yourself a tiny amount, and his tip pushes in a little further as you notch him between your folds. He gasps. You lean over him, and stabilise yourself with your hands either side of his head.

“You ready?”

Eddie’s voice wobbles as he confirms,

“Fuck, yes, Princess. Please f-fuck me.” 

You take a steadying breath, and, keeping your eyes fixed on his, you begin to lower further. His fat head breaches you, and you bite your lip as you feel the stretch of him for the first time. Slowly, so slowly, you slide down, inch by delicious inch. You’re so wet he glides into you easily, although the size of him is something you’ll need to get used to. You relish the sensation of him stretching out your walls as they slowly envelop him.

You pause, and Eddie mumbles your name, barely audible, the hot huff of air filling what little space there is between you. It sounds like a prayer, or perhaps a spell. There’s a moment of silence and absolute stillness, yet it’s weighted, the implications heavy in the humid space between you. You both know how much this means, how things will never be as they were, especially for Eddie. As you slide lower, letting him fill you, his jaw drops further, and his grip on your thighs grows stronger. You sink down until he’s plunged completely inside your warmth, and immerse yourself in the way you’re accommodating him. Your hips finally connect with his, and as you seat him fully inside you already feel him nudging against that spot that he so deftly located earlier. You mumble out a stilted,

“Oh, god.”

It’s followed by a long, deep sigh from Eddie as he mutters,

“Ohfuckohfuckohfuck— Ooooooooh fuuuuuuuuuuuuuccckkk!”

He’s closed his eyes, and you can feel the tips of his fingers digging into the plush of your thighs. You enjoy the moment, savouring how he looks, how he feels. His hair splays out around him on his pillow like a chestnut halo, and his head is tilted back, exposing his broad, thick throat. His eyes flash open again and fix on yours; wide, dark mahogany pools that are somehow simultaneously a million miles away and boring into your very soul. His mouth hangs open in awe, shallow, trembling breaths emanating from his throat. He looks like an angel. 

He strokes your thighs for a moment before his large hands move to settle lightly on your hips. Placing your hands over the backs of his, you stay seated, tilting your hips ever so slightly to push down even deeper onto him. He practically growls,

“Fuck, Princess. You feel so fucking good.”

The growling nature of his voice sends an electric heat straight to your core, and the stretch you feel quickly morphs into a fiery need. You gaze into Eddie’s chocolate orbs as you warn him, 

“I’m gonna move now, okay?”

He swallows in preparation, and you brace your hands on his lower ribs. You tilt your hips, rolling them. It angles him differently inside you, his swollen head hitting harder exactly where you need it. It also brushes your clit against the dark, glossy hair at his base, and your walls spasm as a low moan leaves your chest and you feel Eddie’s cock kick up in response. He mumbles, voice low and lasciviously gravelly,

“Do that again.”

So you do, again and again. You find a rhythm, slow but satisfying as you rock back and forth. Eddie’s jaw drops open again and his lips form a soft ‘o’ as you move above him.

It occurs to you that everything feels subtly different. Of course, you’ve never been treated with such care before, never been brought to a point of such arousal, plus you’ve never wanted anyone as much as you want Eddie in this moment. But you swear you can feel the flared edge of his cockhead as it drags against your walls, and every ridge and vein as you move atop him. You’d never previously considered how a lack of barrier might affect things, it always being a hard boundary for you, despite whining and cajoling from previous partners. You’d assumed it was mostly a ‘guy thing’, and you had no idea how it could affect your pleasure. But it’s abundantly obvious now. 

Eddie's lips are pursed, and his grip on your thighs intensifies again as you watch the muscles of his abdomen subtly tense. Perhaps it’s time he became a bit more… involved. You’re sure he can take it, and you know he won’t hurt you.

“You can move too, Eddie. Just do what feels good.”

He‘s tentative at first, tilting his pelvis subtly and pushing up into you with such care, as if he might hurt you, or something might break. It’s incredible, the small movements feel so good, and somehow more intimate and passionate than anything you’ve done with anyone else. You reward him with soft sighs and moans in time with his movements.

Gaining confidence, he begins to move faster, pulling out further and thrusting back in with more vigour. When you join him, moving and rolling your pelvis with larger movements in time with his, your breath coming out in increasingly loud rhythmic gasps and moans, his breathing quickens, his whole body flushes, and you can't help but close your eyes and drop your head back in ecstasy until Eddie’s hands clamp onto your hips and—

“Ohmygod, ooohmyGOD.”

He’s suddenly still.

You open your eyes to check in on him, and see Eddie’s screwed up face, his eyes and mouth twisted shut, his cheeks even redder than before.

“Eddie? Are you okay?”

He babbles, quickly,

“Don’t move Princess, pleasejustdontfuckinmove. This is fuckin’ amazing and I don’t wanna ruin it!”

You want to reassure him that everything he’s doing is perfect.

“I’m close too. It doesn't matter how long this lasts, just that we both enjoy it. And I’m really, really enjoying it. Please, keep moving, Eddie. For me?"

From his beautifully wide eyes and flushed face, this definitely isn’t going to last very much longer, but you mean it, you don’t care. You’re still puffy and sensitive from his earlier ministrations, and you know it won’t be long before you fall apart all over him. You both begin to move again, quickly rebuilding a rhythm. The soft thrusts of his hips keep perfect time with the subtle rolls of yours, the lewd sounds of your mingling juices only adding to your mutual enjoyment. 

Eddie lets out little uhs and ahs in time with your movements and you adore that you’re having such an effect on him. After a particularly deep thrust followed by a vociferous grunt, he grits out, through clenched teeth,

“Does it— Christ— Does it always feel this good?”

You reply, truthfully,

“Honestly? It’s never been this good.”

He stutters out a high-pitched chuckle as he confirms,

“Holy shit, I’m in fucking heaven!”

You lunge forwards to kiss him again, brushing your nipples against his chest as you slip your tongue between his eager lips. Once again Eddie’s hand grips the back of your head and he moans loudly as his tongue plunges into your mouth. You feel the warmth of a broad palm against your lower back as he pulls you flush with his chest. The shift in position arches your back, subtly changing the angle and spreading your centre even further. 

All too soon, Eddie’s thrusts become faster and less controlled, and you match his pace, rolling your hips and pushing down onto him with increased vigour. You break apart and move up just enough so he’s in focus, wanting to see him at this perfect moment. His eyes are glazed and seem to only be half-focussing on yours, and there's a tell-tale furrow in his brow. You wonder aloud,

“You gonna cum? I wanna feel you. Let go, please.”

His hips seem to take on a life of their own now he’s not holding back. His thrusts become more fervent, and his swollen member pummels that spot inside you. You feel his pelvis slam against your clit with every stroke, and your own release careens towards you, spots of light beginning to appear in your vision and the warmth in your core reaching a heated crescendo.

With a deep, rumbling groan, easily the sexiest sound you’ve ever heard, his final thrust pushes him even deeper and his cock begins to pulse inside you. You’ve never felt anyone’s release before, and the divine sensation makes you jam your hips down, triggering your own release, and you throw your head back in ecstasy, emitting a disjointed high-pitched whine. There's more low moans from Eddie as you clench around his still-pulsing member, and you barely register the bruising grip as he digs his fingertips into your hips. 

Eventually your movements still and, spent, you pitch forward on failing arms and collapse onto his chest, breathing heavily into the crook of his neck. After a moment he wraps his arms around you, holding you close and nuzzling into your hairline.

There’s a minute of stillness, and you revel in the post-orgasmic haze. Your cunt spasms with aftershocks, eliciting contented hums from deep within Eddie’s chest. You’re warm, satisfied and feel cosy and safe with his arms wrapped around you, and you wonder whether he’s feeling the same. You hum into his skin as he traces one hand over your shoulders and back. It’s bliss.

Eventually, Eddie chuckles lightly as he mutters,

“Fuck, Princess. That was… I, um… Fuck.”

He snorts a truncated laugh, his Adam’s apple bobbing and his curls bouncing on the pillow as his head shifts to look at you. All you can manage is a dopey grin as you reply,

“Yeah. Fuck.”

You chuckle in unison, shifting until your noses touch, both tilting your chins until your lips connect in a series of soft pecks.

You’re a little nervous to ask, but something in you has to know.

“How did it feel? Fucking for the first time?”

“Shit, it was goddamn heaven, I swear! Although technically, I think you did most of the actual fucking.”

“Oh no, you did absolutely your fair share! But we can change that, if you’d like. Are you up for doing most of the fucking another time?”

Eddie’s eyebrows snap up his forehead and he looks straight at you with surprise, and just a little disbelief. 

“You, uh, want there to be a next time…?”

You roll your lips together and consider your words carefully before replying. He really has no idea how good this was for you, or that he’s already so much better than literally every guy you’ve ever slept with. But you don’t want to stroke his ego too much, at least, not just yet. You hum and fake a look of disinterest.

“Well, I guess I could make time in my schedule, to, y’know, give you a few more lessons. Purely for your benefit, of course.”

His jaw drops in faux shock.

“Hey, I know I’m not exactly an expert, but if I’m reading this right you seemed to enjoy yourself.”

You can’t keep a straight face and burst into giggles, and Eddie follows you, his fingers snaking to your waist and easily finding your ticklish spots. You huff and wriggle, but make no real attempt to disengage yourself from his grasp. If anything, you end up more entangled, and from the contented sounds that emanate from you both, it’s not something either of you mind.

You lay together for a few moments, enjoying the peace and your shared heat. But eventually your hips start to ache, and with a groan of discomfort, and more than a little reluctance, you slowly start to move. His mostly-soft cock slips out easily, and as you roll off of him you feel your combined juices run out of you, dribbling over his abdomen and coating the inside of your thighs.

You sigh as you wriggle yourself into the crook of his arm, and lay your palm on his chest, tracing lazily up and down with your fingers.

You figure Eddie must feel the cooling stickiness, because he starts to move and asks,

“Umm… Do I— Uh… Should I…? D’you need anything?”

You keep it simple.

“Umm, something to clean up with would be nice. And could I, maybe, get some water?”

The mere fact that he’s asked the question already puts him leagues above others, but you’re briefly concerned that Eddie will see this as annoying, or demanding. To your relief, he seems entirely unfazed. 

“Sure thing. You get comfy here and I’ll just be a minute.”

He wriggles sideways and backs off the bed, his beautiful grin lighting up his glowing face. His hair’s a dishevelled mess, his torso is still tinged pink and the scratches you left on his chest are an angry red, but you’ve never seen anyone so beautiful. Unable to break your gaze, he doesn’t turn until he’s already partly through the doorway. It’s sweet, and lovely, but as he leaves you’re almost sad that he didn’t turn sooner, as you’re treated to the glorious sight of his pert, peachy butt bouncing slightly as he leaves the room.

You swallow, thinking that’s a sight you could definitely get used to, but then chide yourself. He’s obviously happy to do this again, but you have no idea whether he’s… feeling the same way you are. But at that moment you make a decision - you’re absolutely going to broach the subject before you leave. Definitely. 

Probably. 

Maybe...

There’s the sound of running water and minutes later Eddie returns with a warm, damp washcloth and a small towel, and promptly disappears again. You clean yourself up as best you can and then take him at his word and get comfy, wrapping yourself up in his sheets before rolling onto your side and perusing the myriad objects atop his nightstand. There’s a full ashtray, loose keys, a lighter, a couple of rings, an empty pretzel tube, rolling papers, a creased music magazine and a lot of dust. A battered copy of a Tolkien novel catches your eye, and you pick it up and start to flip through it. There’s folded corners and pages marked with scraps of paper, notes and doodles in the margins and words written in runes in Eddie’s messy scrawl. You imagine it must be one of his most treasured possessions.

Just as you’re halfway through deciphering a short runic message, Eddie enters with snacks clasped in his hands and between his teeth. There's water, cold soda, pretzels, potato chips, a bowl with a few grapes in it, and half a bar of chocolate. His soft, but still pretty, cock swings with abandon as he heads towards you and dumps his haul onto the bed in front of you.

It’s all perfect. He’s perfect…

As the final packet leaves his mouth he spots what you have in your hand.

“I brought snacks too, I hope that’s okay. Whatcha got there, Princess?”

You drop the paperback like it’s burned you, blustering,

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to snoop.”

“That’s alright, you can look. There’s nothing incriminating in there. Not gonna tell you where that stuff is, mind you."

He pulls a comical face as he flops down onto the bed, the old springs squeaking in protest, and you giggle, thinking about your journal and wondering whether he does indeed have any similarly incriminating stuff anywhere, as you admit,

“I read The Hobbit once. I liked it, but I found the other books too heavy going. Is that awful? Are you gonna throw me out now?”

You wince and add a deliberately over-expansive pout. Eddie’s hair shakes wildly as he responds emphatically,

“Oh, god no! You’d have to do a lot worse than that for me to ever let you go…”

You think he’s just being funny, but then his eyes soften suddenly, and you wonder whether, deep down, he actually means that. Your tummy flutters at the thought. But before you can dwell, his face brightens, and, breaking your thought process, he continues excitedly,

“Maybe I could read them to you sometime? I could explain it as I go. And I promise to skip any really dull parts.”

You smile and nod eagerly in agreement, imagining lazy days spent cuddling with Eddie reading aloud to you as you play with his hair and memorise his tattoos. You can’t pass this moment up, you have to say something. And, in just a minute, you will. You’re almost certain of it.

You sit up and lean back against the wall, and Eddie joins you, pulling his sheets and comforter around you both. You lean in close as you snack on your impromptu and welcome picnic, sometimes feeding each other small morsels, and he makes you giggle as he kisses crumbs from the side of your mouth and fake-bites your fingers. 

Food devoured, you snuggle against him with his arm slung around your shoulders. You bring a finger up to trace his ink, and he hums contentedly as you run your fingertips through his soft chest hair again. 

Okay, girl. Just do it.

Gathering yourself, you take a deep breath, holding it for far too long before the words tumble out of you.

“I’ve really enjoyed this, Eddie. Not just, y’know, this, but also the tutoring, and getting to know you. Shit, I’m probably messing this up so bad. I guess what I’m trying to say is… and I don’t know how you’d feel about this, but… we could carry this on. Properly. If— you wanted to.” 

Eddie stares at you for a moment, before he stammers, 

“We— we could?”  

A goofy smile appears on his face.

Bolstered, you gather your nerve and continue,

“And… I could be more than just your tutor. If you wanted me to be?”

Eddie replies, with a little trepidation, 

“Are you serious? You’d wanna be more than, y’know, this?” 

He gesticulates over both of your pelvises.

“Yeah. I was thinking… Fuck, I hope this isn’t too much. Will you tell me if this is too much? I thought… If you like… I could even, maybe… be your girlfriend?”

Eddie inhales quickly and his chest puffs, you hope with joy, but fucking hell you hope you haven’t overstepped and it’s actually horror.

“If I’d like? Shit, I would absolutely like that. Very, very much...”

He brings one hand up to stroke the side of your head, and then runs it lightly down over your shoulder and the side of your arm. He places a firm, lingering kiss to your lips before pulling back, smiling.

You stare into each other’s eyes, the gravity of the moment not lost on either of you. The nervous pit in your stomach is completely dissolved by a warm, honeyed sensation, as you slowly process that Eddie said yes, and that you’ve just snagged yourself the cutest, sweetest, sexiest boyfriend ever. 

You lean in, capturing Eddie’s plush lips in another chaste but oh-so-meaningful kiss. He presses forward to kiss you back, relaxing and heaving out a low sigh before his lips quirk into a devious-looking smirk, failing to hide his mischievous tone as he asks,

“I do have one question. If you’re my girlfriend now, do I still have to wait a whole week before we can do this again?”

You snort at his silliness.

“No, Eddie, you definitely don’t. In fact, what are you doing this weekend? Would you like to come over to my place? I’ve got plenty of ideas for more lessons, and I’m sure there’s lots we can teach each other.”

Eddie growls playfully before enthusiastically agreeing, prying excitedly for details like dates and times and possible activities. Although he seems more than fine with your company, you don’t want to push things too far or outstay your welcome, so when you glance at his bedside clock and see that it’s already way past the time you’d usually leave you turn to him with a resigned huff.

Eddie responds, 

“It’s that time already?”

You give him a glum little nod, and he continues,

“Do you really have to go? I mean, couldn’t you stay a little longer? I’d really like that.”

Smiling, you nuzzle in closer to him. 

“I was kinda hoping you’d say that boyfriend.”

In a surprising display of both strength and newly-found confidence, Eddie pushes your shoulder and flips you onto your back, scattering the empty packets and bowls across the bed and onto the floor. His pretty curls frame his face and tickle your cheeks as he looms over you, and his burgeoning erection feels hot as he presses it into the crease of your thigh.

He leans down, and his beautiful nose brushes yours as he murmurs,

“You know these lessons you’re talking about, Princess. How about we start right now?”

You hum into the kiss he plants on your lips and roll your hips upwards into him, making him moan. But before this particular lesson can go any further, you’re both disturbed by the sounds of the trailer door loudly opening and closing, and the rustle of fabric as someone removes what sounds like a heavy coat.

You and Eddie freeze, eyes wide and locked on each other's. 

“Oh shit, it’s my uncle!”

You gasp, and then both frantically sit up and scramble off the bed to get dressed, nervously giggling and flinging each other’s clothing across the room.

You’re almost done, and in record time too. But as you bend to retrieve a sock, Eddie's treated to the sight of your skirt lifting, revealing your bare cunt, a little of his spend leaking out of you. He’s momentarily struck dumb, and his jaw drops. But another noise outside snaps him back to reality. Stuttering, he mumbles,

“You don’t have any… uh…”

He waves a hand in the vague direction of your lower half, his cheeks reddening as he remembers what he did earlier on with your panties.

“It’s okay, Eddie. After that first time, I thought it would probably be a good idea to keep some spares in my bag.”

Standing, you wink at him. He pulls a thick lock of hair over his cheek, embarrassed, screwing up his eyes and realising he’s been completely and utterly caught. He tries to apologise, his words clipped,

“Shit. I’m sorry. I shouldn't have done that.”

“You know, from anyone else I’d have found it creepy, but from you I find it oddly flattering.”

He grins widely, and is just about to pull you into an embrace when there’s another noise, a gravelly voice this time, 

“Is this paper yours, son? You didn’t steal this from another kid again, did’ya?”

Eddie looks slightly bashful for a moment but there’s no time to dither. It's time to face whoever’s out there. Eddie opens his door and leaves first, beckoning you encouragingly to follow him. Standing in the narrow hallway by the kitchen, you come face to face with Eddie’s uncle for the first time. He’s clutching Eddie’s test paper, and his deep frown, grizzled features and broad frame cut an imposing figure. When he eyes the pair of you, you can’t help but feel a little nervous. 

Eddie speaks first, and addresses his uncle, a little sarcastically,

“Yes, that is indeed my test paper. And I’ll thank you for not looking quite so surprised.” 

The big man’s brows furrow a little deeper, and you can’t tell whether it’s with consternation or amusement, as his gaze flicks between the two of you. Eddie clears his throat and introduces Wayne to you, and tells his uncle your name. You think that’s it, until he straightens up a little, and with a confidence you weren’t expecting he slips an arm around your shoulders. He grips you tightly before adding, with a little nod, as if he’s practicing the words and still convincing himself, 

“And, uh, she’s my girlfriend.”

Oh. You like how it sounds coming from his lips.

Wayne’s forehead crinkles as his bushy eyebrows raise, but before you have time to worry his face splits into a wide grin. He extends a work-grizzled hand and shakes yours powerfully as he says, in a much lighter tone,

“Well, ain’t this the nicest news for this old soul to come home to. It’s a pleasure to meet you, darlin’.”

His voice is warm and kind, and you believe it. Looking between you and his nephew, Wayne adds,

“Do we have the pleasure of your company this evening? You caught us at a good time, I’ve just been huntin’n’gatherin’.”

He gestures towards the kitchen area. You see full bags piled onto the counter, mac’n’cheese boxes, eggs and a few vegetables peeking from the tops, and realise it’s a dinner invitation. You gape a couple of times, far from expecting this level of domestic intimacy, and Eddie seems to pick up on it and answers for the both of you.

“Not tonight. I’m gonna drop this lovely lady back home, and then I’ll come help you chop veggies, ‘kay?”

He sweeps an arm wide, directing you towards his front door, and you pad over to collect the rest of your belongings, careful when you bend so as not to reveal your lack of underwear to anyone who wasn’t expecting it. You clasp Eddie’s divine drawing to your chest, handling it with especial care. Behind you, you hear the two men mutter-whispering, Wayne speaking first.

“Is this the tutor girl you’ve been talking about non-stop these last few weeks? You finally asked her out, huh?”

You can hear the smile in Eddie’s voice as he responds,

“Keep your voice down, old man. Um, that’s not exactly how it happened, but yeah, that’s her.”

Eddie looks over to you with a fond smile on his face as you pick up your backpack, and he comes over to you and helps you with your shoes before you leave ahead of him. The last thing you hear before the door closes behind you both is Wayne speaking once more.

“Good for you, son. It’s about damn time!”

Series masterlist General masterlist

Thank you so much for reading! (And for sticking with me through the longest update gap I think I’ve ever had, ILY 🙏💗) This completes our main ‘lessons’, but don’t fret - I have some more Extra Credits planned for these two 😉

If you liked this please, please like, comment and, especially, reblog - it’s the only way fics stay alive, and it means so much to writers to get your reactions and feedback, it’s what keeps us sharing our work 💗💋

“It’s that time already?” is a prompt from @promptsh20, it fitted so well with this section of the story I just had to include it 😊 The “It’s never been this good” lines are adapted from a film, the name of which I’ve now forgotten 🙈, and the “Do that again” was inspired by a Ryan Reynolds line in Green Lantern (if I can’t have him say it to me IRL I’m damn well gonna have Eddie do it in a fic 😛)

I proofed this as much as I could but my brain turned to mush, so if there are any errors or anyone grows an extra limb or something please tell me 🙏😅

Taglist part one: @airen256 @bimbotrashcan @urlbitchin @guiltyasquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @rustboxstarr @bl4ckt00thgr1n @bexreadstoomuch @cozmiccass @yujyujj @cluz1babe @thunderg @aysheashea @paleidiot @cadence73 @eddie-munsons-wifey @siriuslysmoking @neville-is-my-husband @aestheticaltcow @jjmaybankswifes-blog @lightcommastix @ungracefularchimedes @spenciesprincess @joejoequinnquinn @freshoutthewomb2 @sunshinepeachx @tlclick73 @hellfirenacht @yourdailymemedelivery @wendyxox @madaboutmunson @80s-addict @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @eddiesxangel @bunny7232 @starksbabie @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @abellmunsonmovie @sheneedsrocknroll92 @daisy-munson @maedesculpaeusoubi @wonderlanddreamer @leatherfaceologist @munson-blurbs @paradisepoisons @lokidokieokie @rcailleachcola @fckyeahlames @kurdtbean PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU CHANGE YOUR URL OR DON’T WANT TO BE INCLUDED ANYMORE

[sweaterkittensahoy]

A quick resource round up if you need yarn and shopped at Joann

I don't remember all of Joann's brands, so forgive me if I miss one, but here's everything I can think of that either will help you buy stuff you've used or give you a new place to look for yarn.

Yarnspirations will have everything for Red Heart, Caron, Patons, Lily Sugar 'n' Cream, Bernat, Aunt Lydia's, and Coats & Clark. (I made a post about this yesterday but don't want to skip it.)

Lion Brand's website will have any Lion Brand you need.

Plymouth yarn is one of those companies that shows you what they have but then you have to look at their shop list to find it.

Yarn.com is a huge yarn selling company with a lot of options, including Plymouth.

Creative Yarn Source is a website where you can get Omega-brand threads and yarns. I don't know if Hobby Lobby still carries Omega, but they did 15 years ago (I made a terrible vest [my fault; not the yarn] right before we moved to PDX). Lots of thread sizes and colors.

Knitpicks has size 10 and size 3 thread in a bunch of colors. It's called Curio. It's under laceweight. For a good acrylic worsted, I recommend their Brava. I also prefer their Dishie to Sugar 'N' Cream just because I like how it softens up a bit more.

We Crochet is actually just Knitpicks but aimed at primarily crocheters rather than knitters. They don't one-to-one on yarn options, which bothers me, but I'm sure it's based on what crocheters buy most often vs. what knitters buy most often. That site also has some extra brands on it, too.

If you need to sub a yarn, yarnsub.com is literally just that. They have a whole rating system. I've used it several times to source similar or replacement yarns.

Hobbii has always been a great resource for me, but if you are looking for an exact yarn, it's not going to be what you need. It's a Danish company, so shipping takes a little time, but every yarn I've gotten from them I've really liked. Their "Friends" line has stuff I would definitely consider workhorse sort of options.

Wool and the Gang has a website where you can buy directly from them.

Big Twist yarns has a website, but it just sends you to Amazon to buy, so here's the link to the page of it from Craftz brand. You can use this same link to get the Easy Peasy yarn for Woobles.

Premier Yarns has a website where you can buy directly from them.

Herrschners carries a bunch of different yarns, and if you like kits, that's a lot of their business.

[luesmainblog]

okay but can we talk about how much EXTRA fucked up this is? it... it's the pokemon world. at least 1/4th of any given country's population is kids/teenagers/young adults on their pokemon journey. where you very famously don't have an easy way to go home for a good chunk of it. i know the anime tells us that there's usually room at the pokemon center, but we ALSO know those centers have curfews and won't let you in to stay if you're past it. hotels are shockingly sparse throughout most regions, and it is not at all unusual for these - again, literal children - to be camping out in the wild. what i'm saying is, an expected part of everyone's path growing up in life makes you Effectively Homeless for a while. not because you don't have a home to return to, but because it's ridiculous to expect you to be able to get home in time unless you very specifically have a pokemon who knows Fly or a registration with a flying transport service.

and yet.... anti-homeless bench.

i wanna be really clear: these are already really, really fucked up for a city to implement. my point is that it's more fucked up the more homeless people there are in a city(i'm lookin at you, paris), and if we count people who are far away from home and on their journey, kalos has a LOT of temporarily homeless people.

inb4 anyone brings it up: yes i'm sure some employee just looked up "french benches" and modeled based off of what they found without really thinking about the implications or why it was designed that way. frankly, that'll actually be more upsetting than if it's a hint towards some larger part of the story.

Waht if we kissed on the pokemon legends z-a anti homeless architecture bench,

[arxiwon]

Not Yours to Keep 𓍯𓂃

Pairing: Jake Sim x Reader

Genre: Angst, Fake Dating, Jealousy, Slow Burn, Happy Ending

Warnings: Emotional turmoil, jealousy, misunderstandings, mild language, eventual fluff

Synopsis:

Jake Sim has only ever had eyes for his ex. When he asks you to be his fake girlfriend to make her jealous, you agree, hiding the fact that you've loved him since childhood. You tell yourself it’s temporary, just a favor for an old friend—but deep down, you’re selfishly happy, even if it’s all pretend. When Jake’s ex finally wants him back, you convince yourself you never had a chance to begin with. But when you start smiling because of someone else, Jake realizes the one thing he wanted was right in front of him all along.

Jake never saw it coming. Maybe that was the worst part.

It started with a favor—just a simple pretend to be my girlfriend for a while favor. He had asked you so casually, so effortlessly, as if the idea of being with you, even in a fake way, meant nothing. And maybe to him, it didn’t. But to you? It meant everything.

You had loved Jake Sim since you were kids. You had hidden it well, buried it under layers of forced indifference, masking every stolen glance, every skipped heartbeat, with playful banter and eye-rolls. But when he asked—when he looked at you with those desperate, hopeful eyes—you found yourself saying yes before your brain could catch up.

Just for a little while. That’s what you told yourself.

But “a little while” was long enough for you to get used to the weight of his arm around your shoulders, the way he leaned in close when he laughed, the warmth of his fingers lacing through yours at parties just to put on a show. And even though you knew it wasn’t real, even though you saw the way he still looked at her—his ex, the one who had left but never really let him go—you let yourself pretend.

Until, finally, she noticed.

It was at a party, one you hadn’t even wanted to go to. Jake was being extra that night—hands lingering on your waist, lips brushing your ear as he whispered things that made your heart race even though they weren’t meant for you. And then she appeared, just like clockwork. Eyes trailing over the scene, lips pressing together in something that wasn’t quite a smile.

Jake stiffened. You felt it, the way his entire body seemed to react to her presence.

And just like that, you knew.

The game was over.

You should have walked away right then. Should have let go before it got worse. But Jake made it impossible. Because he still looked at you like you mattered, still held your hand absentmindedly, still called you at night like he needed you. And maybe, for a little while, he did.

But in the end, he chose her.

Of course, he did.

You told yourself it didn’t hurt. That it didn’t wreck you to see them together again. But the second you were alone, the weight of everything crashed down.

You were just a placeholder. A distraction.

Jake never looked back.

And so, you did what you had to do—you moved forward.

You started smiling again, laughing at stupid jokes that weren’t his, standing a little closer to someone who actually saw you. And that’s when it happened.

Jake saw you. Really saw you. And for the first time, it wasn’t him making you smile.

The realization hit him like a punch to the gut.

You weren’t his anymore. You never really were. But now? Now, someone else had your attention, your laughter, your time—things he had always taken for granted. And fuck, it didn’t sit right with him.

He didn’t understand it at first. The bitterness, the tightness in his chest every time he saw you with him. The way his fists clenched when he overheard your name being said in someone else’s mouth. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

But it did.

And suddenly, Jake wasn’t so sure if he had lost his fake girlfriend.

Or if he had lost the only real thing he had ever had.

Jake never thought it would get to this point.

He never thought seeing you with someone else would wreck him like this.

At first, he tried to ignore it. Shrug it off like it was nothing—like it didn’t feel like something sharp twisting inside his chest whenever he caught you laughing with that guy. He told himself he was just being protective, that it was normal to feel a little weird about it. After all, you had been his for a while, even if it was just pretend.

But that excuse didn’t hold up when he saw the way you looked at him.

Because it wasn’t the way you used to look at Jake anymore.

It wasn’t playful or teasing. It wasn’t forced or practiced. It was real.

And that’s when it fucking hit him.

You weren’t his placeholder anymore. You weren’t even waiting for him.

You had moved on.

And it was all his fault.

It started eating away at him. Little things that never used to matter suddenly became unbearable. Like the way you used to sit next to him without thinking about it, and now you chose a different seat across the room. The way you used to lean into his touch instinctively, but now you barely even looked at him.

Fuck, even your voice was different when you spoke to him.

Distant. Guarded.

Like he wasn’t Jake—your Jake—anymore.

The final straw was when he saw the other guy—that guy—drop you off after class, his hand lingering on your back just a second too long, his eyes filled with something Jake recognized all too well.

Because once upon a time, he looked at you the same way.

Jake didn’t even think. He just moved.

Before he knew it, he had grabbed your wrist, pulling you away from the guy without so much as a glance in his direction.

“Jake, what the hell?” you snapped, trying to shake him off.

But his grip only tightened.

“We need to talk,” he muttered, his voice low, tense.

You scoffed. “Oh, now you wanna talk?”

Jake ignored the bite in your words, pulling you into a quieter hallway where no one could see the way his hands were shaking.

You yanked your arm away, glaring up at him. “What’s your problem?”

Jake opened his mouth. Closed it again.

Because he didn’t even know what to say. He didn’t have the right words for this—for the jealousy that burned in his veins, for the frustration of knowing he had done this to himself.

For the fear that maybe—just maybe—it was too late.

So instead, he blurted out the one thing he knew to be true.

“I don’t like it.”

You blinked. “What?”

“I don’t like seeing you with him.”

You let out a sharp laugh, shaking your head. “That’s rich coming from you.”

Jake swallowed hard. “I mean it.”

“Yeah? And what do you expect me to do about that, Jake?” you snapped, arms crossing over your chest. “Drop everything? Wait around for you to figure out what you want—again?”

Guilt surged through him.

Because fuck, you were right.

“I didn’t—” He exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

You flinched, just barely. “Well, you did.”

Jake felt his stomach drop.

You were done. He could see it in your eyes.

You weren’t going to wait for him anymore.

Desperation clawed at his throat. “Then let me fix it.”

You let out a breathy laugh, but it sounded more like a sob. “You can’t just fix this, Jake.”

He took a step closer. “Why not?”

You stared at him for a long moment. “Because I don’t trust you.”

It hit him like a punch to the gut.

You always trusted him. Even when you shouldn’t have. Even when he didn’t deserve it.

But not anymore.

And maybe that was what scared him the most.

Jake’s voice was hoarse when he spoke. “I was an idiot.”

You didn’t deny it.

“I thought she was what I wanted,” he admitted, his hands clenching into fists. “I thought she was the one. And I didn’t even—” He inhaled sharply, shaking his head. “I didn’t even realize I already had what I was looking for.”

Silence.

The kind that made his heart hammer against his ribs.

Then—

“You don’t get to say that now.”

Jake swallowed. “I know.”

But fuck, he was saying it anyway.

Because he meant it.

And maybe, just maybe—

He wasn’t too late after all.

Jake thought getting you back would be easy.

He thought once he confessed—once he laid everything bare—you’d fall into his arms the way you used to, let him hold you the way he ached to.

But reality hit harder than he expected.

Because you didn’t trust him anymore.

And that broke him more than anything else.

Now, he stood there, watching you laugh with that guy—that fucking guy—again, and it made his blood boil. But he couldn't say anything. Not when he was the one who pushed you away in the first place.

All he could do was wait.

Wait for you to look at him the way you used to.

Wait for you to realize that no one else could love you the way he did.

Wait for you to come back to him.

But fuck, it was harder than he thought.

Especially when his ex was still around.

“Jake,” she whined, linking her arm with his like she still had some kind of claim over him. “Are you even listening to me?”

Jake barely glanced at her, his eyes still trained on you.

You were different now. More guarded. Stronger.

And the worst part?

You looked happier without him.

“Jake,” his ex pressed, tugging on his sleeve. “Let’s go out. Just the two of us, like old times.”

He turned to her then, expression blank. “We were never like that.”

She blinked. “What?”

Jake sighed, pulling his arm away. “We were never just the two of us. You always needed attention from someone else.”

Her face twisted in irritation. “Oh, so now you care about loyalty?”

Jake clenched his jaw. “I always cared.”

Just not about you.

His ex scoffed, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Whatever. You’ll come crawling back eventually.”

Jake didn't even bother responding.

His eyes had already found you again.

Because no matter what she said, the truth was clear.

The only person he was waiting for was you.

And no matter how long it took, he wasn’t going anywhere.

Jake didn’t know when waiting turned into suffering.

At first, he told himself it was fine—he deserved this, deserved to feel the weight of his mistakes pressing down on him. He watched from the sidelines as you laughed with someone else, as you let another guy into the space that once belonged to him.

And it fucking hurt.

But what hurt more was that he couldn’t blame you.

Because he had been the one to break you. To toss you aside when he thought he had everything he wanted. And by the time he realized you were the only thing he wanted, it was too late.

You were slipping through his fingers, and he didn’t know how to stop it.

So he waited.

Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months.

And still, Jake waited.

He watched you. Not in an overbearing way, but in the way someone watches the only thing that matters to them, hoping—praying—that maybe, just maybe, you’d look at him the way you used to.

But you never did.

Not once.

At least, not until that night.

It was late when he found you alone.

The guy who had been making you smile lately had just dropped you off, and Jake had been watching from his car, gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white.

He wasn’t proud of the way jealousy consumed him.

Wasn’t proud of the way he got out of his car and followed you up to your door, the words already burning on his tongue before he could stop himself.

“You really like him, don’t you?”

You jumped, spinning around with wide eyes. “Jake?”

Jake swallowed hard. “Do you?”

You sighed, pressing your back against the door. “Why do you care?”

He let out a humorless chuckle, running a hand through his hair. “Are you seriously asking me that?”

“Yes,” you snapped, and for the first time in months, he saw it.

That fire. That spark in your eyes that only ever appeared when you were talking to him.

Jake took a step closer. “Because I love you.”

Your breath hitched.

Jake didn’t miss the way your fingers twitched like you wanted to reach for him but refused to let yourself.

“You don’t,” you whispered. “You only want me now because you can’t have me.”

Jake shook his head. “That’s not true.”

You laughed, but it was bitter. “It is. You had me, Jake. I loved you for years. But I was never enough, was I?”

Jake’s chest tightened. “That’s not fair.”

“Oh, now you care about fair?”

Jake inhaled sharply. “I made a mistake.”

You scoffed. “Yeah? Well, maybe I don’t want to be your second choice.”

“You were never my second choice,” Jake said, voice firm.

You blinked. “Then why?”

Jake swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Because I was a fucking idiot.”

Silence.

Then—

“You still are.”

Jake exhaled a short laugh. “I know.”

You stared at him for a long moment before shaking your head. “I can’t do this.”

Jake’s heart stopped. “Wait.”

Your fingers tightened around your doorknob. “Jake—”

“I’ll wait.” His voice was desperate now. “For as long as it takes. Just tell me there’s still a chance.”

Your expression wavered. “Jake…”

“Please.”

His voice cracked.

And that was what broke you.

Your walls crumbled, your shoulders sagged, and for the first time in months, you let yourself feel.

“I hate you,” you whispered, but it didn’t sound convincing.

Jake stepped closer. “I know.”

“I should walk inside.”

“You should.”

You didn’t move.

Neither did he.

Then, before either of you could stop it—

You were kissing him.

It was desperate, angry, messy—months of heartbreak and longing and unresolved tension colliding all at once.

Jake groaned against your lips, hands gripping your waist like he was afraid you’d disappear again.

“You love me,” he murmured between kisses.

You bit his lip. “Shut up.”

Jake smirked. “You do.”

You tugged at his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer. “Jake, if you don’t shut up, I’m—”

“I love you,” he interrupted. “I love you, and I’m never letting you go again.”

You exhaled shakily. “You better not.”

And just like that, you were his again.

And this time—

He wasn’t going to lose you.

[mylovesstuffs]

OT13 reacting to their pregnant s/o asking them to shave your, "down there"

Request: hi pookie!! i love love LOVE your content and I wanted to ask if please could do "seventeen reacting to you (their pregnant wife) asking them to shave you downstairs" if you know what I mean😔 many women say they have a problem with getting there bc their belly is in the way so if you could do that or something similar that would be amazing!!! thank you so much already!!

Immediately Says Yes, No Hesitation — Seungcheol, Joshua, Wonwoo, Dokyeom, Mingyu, Dino

Drops whatever they’re doing. “Oh, you need help? Say no more.”

Zero embarrassment. Zero teasing. They treat this like it’s the most normal thing in the world because you are their wife and this is their baby you’re carrying.

Mingyu & Dokyeom: Concentrating like it’s brain surgery. Expect encouraging words. “You’re doing great, babe. Just stay still.”

Seungcheol & Wonwoo: Silent, focused, in deep concentration. Wonwoo might even say, “This is a privilege,” lol.

Joshua & Dino: Surprisingly calm. They will ask for specific instructions and double-check before doing anything. "Like this? Okay. Tell me if I need to slow down."

10/10 best husbands, they don’t make it weird at all.

A Little Flustered But Still Does It Wel l— Jeonghan, Hoshi, Woozi, Vernon

Jeonghan: Smirks immediately. “Oh? You want me to do it?” Acts like he’s about to tease you but then gets serious and does it perfectly.

Hoshi: SCREAMS FIRST, THEN HELPS. “YOU WANT ME TO—” GASPS But then suddenly he’s like, “Wait, I’m actually kind of good at this??”

Woozi: Almost chokes on air. “YOU WANT ME TO DO WHAT—” Blushing SO hard. But he’s so so careful and treats you so delicately.

Vernon: Blink. Blink. “Huh…I’ve never done this before.” Extremely focused, takes his time. Might make casual conversation while doing it cause it’s no big deal.

They’ll be shy for five minutes, but then they’re surprisingly good at it.

Acts Like They’re Suffering But Secretly Loves Helping You (Being dramatic but is actually a sweetheart) — Seungkwan, Jun, Minghao

Seungkwan: Fake gasps. “WHAT? ME?? SHAVE—” dramatically puts a hand on his forehead. Acts like he’s being sent to war.

Jun: “Ohhh…” Acts cocky but is so gentle while doing it.

Minghao: Squints at you like you just asked him for his kidney. “You really trust me with this?” (He’s honored but hiding it.)

They’re going to tease you, but they’re also going to do it perfectly.

Extra

Every single one of them will be SO SOFT about this. They know it must have been awkward to ask, so they go out of their way to make you comfortable.

Expect massages, kisses, and “I love you”s afterward. They genuinely don’t mind doing this for you at all.

[creative-frequency]

Eeevvvveeeee, 18 or 20 with Sylus for the kiss prompts? Please? 🥺

More like artificial height equality 🖤

Sylus x Reader: 20. Kissing in a stairwell, giving them an artificial height difference.

If someone (like Sylus) had told you a month ago that you’d willingly spend your free time at the N109 Zone, you would’ve told him he was insane.

After a weekend spent in the ridiculous luxury of Sulys’ home, you were starting to doubt your own sanity.

You’d actually had a good time with him. Private chefs, nightly joyrides, personal spa and gym… It was really difficult to tell him the weekend had been anything but amazing.

And judging by the smug expression on his handsome face, Sylus already knew the answer, when he asked, “Was the weekend at the N109 Zone as bad as you thought?”

“Do you want me to post a public review on Moments?” you retorted.

“Perhaps.” Sylus smirked. “I might give you an extra free day for your next stay, if you write a good one.”

He wanted you to come over again. You tried not to bite your lips and ignored the heat threatening your cheeks.

“‘Spend your next vacation at the Onychinus base: Relax in luxury with an en suite bathroom?’” you started, “or maybe ‘have an activity-filled staycation at the most unlikely gem of Linkon’?”

Sylus scoffed at your antics and shook his head. “Don’t forget ‘open twenty-four-seven just for you’, kitten.”

There were a ton of things to do waiting at home, but you couldn’t help lingering by the stairs that would take you up to your apartment.

“I… guess I’ll see you later, then.”

“And I’ll see you.”

You started climbing up the stairs. And utterly failed at not grinning to yourself.

“Kitten…” Sylus’ voice lilted with amusement and the tone implied you forgot something.

You swung around on the steps and came almost nose to nose with him. Sylus’ hand rested on the railing beside you. You were used to facing his chest whenever he was standing straight.

“No kiss goodbye?” Sylus murmured, teasing.

It was a bit uncanny but exhilarating to be on level with Sylus’ red eyes as he expected a reaction. He inched forward and finally your heart kicked into a flutter.

Your hand laid over his shoulder and slid right around to the back of his neck, feeling the tips of his hair. He was so… within reach that you felt a wave of joyous wonder.

You pulled his head gently closer and registered the relieved smile right before closing your eyes. His body pressed against yours as your lips met.

This was still new – uncharted territory with the promise of an exciting adventure to be had.

The kiss was brief but filled with things left unspoken during the weekend: after spending time together, being away from one another would always ache. A part of your soul constantly yearned for his.

“Don’t forget the chef wants at least two days’ notice to prepare,” Sylus murmured as you pulled away, just an inch, then another, until you could no longer feel the warmth of his body and were already missing it.

“Is that your way of asking when is my next day off?” you huffed.

Sylus smiled.

“Text me. I’ll clear my schedule for you.”

[lorddeathofmurdermountain]

I've got nothing as insane as this but I do still think it's shocking how often people will assume convenience store employees are just looking for an opportunity to grab money. Tips or incorrect returns or anything really. And then sometimes I have to explain that, no, I can't have any money in my pockets and no, if we have any extra in the cash register that's actually really bad bc that's, you know, illegal.

And some people understand this well enough. But still want to give me tips. That's nice, of course, and I tell them that I appreciate it, but I'm putting it in the locked donations box instead. Company policy. But then sometimes, oh sometimes...

Sometimes people just. Can't comprehend the idea that we can't have extra in the register. So the keep insisting I keep the change. And I'm here ready to actually beg them to give me spare change that they literally JUST bragged about having to the pretty lady ahead of them. But he just won't. Fucking. Give me. The goddamned change. I have to bring out the last single digit cent I have in the register and pray to god someone else gives me those because if I have none by the end of the day I could get fired and, possibly, might receive charges bc we wouldn't have enough change to give the correct amount to the bank.

Anyway yes. Working retail reveals to you just how stupid people can get. Regular, normal-looking people who you'd never assume to have a bottomless pit in their skull where a brain should be, and yet...

My absolute favorite, though, is when they wanna pay contactless with a card and I have to physically tap the bit where they have to hold the card and they STILL don't get it. And I have to awkwardly chuckle and be all like "terribly sorry, could you pretty please hold the card here juuuust a little longer?" because, of course, it isn't the customer's fault for being a WH40k Blank but with IQ instead of Warp presence, oh no. See, it's actually my fault for not doing customer service right.

Anyway all this would be awesome sauce and cool if management wasn't even stupider than some of the customers and their failings resulted in delays that ultimately end up in me, the new guy, being blamed for quite literally everything.

I spent a lot of time handcuffed and in a cage in high school, for a charity bit the grocery store I worked at would do

the bit was that I was "put in jail for having too big a heart" and customers could donate to my bail to get me out (and the money would go to a children's hospital or something)

now. I was very clearly a teenaged employee handcuffed inside a large cage. and I would honestly tell people that I had been in there for hours. and people would say, that's terrible! that's awful! and I would show them my wrists red from the tight handcuffs, and say but I'm sooooooo close to making bail.

and then they would dump some cash in the basket, I'd thank them, and they'd walk away.

and every so often, one of the managers would come by and collect some of the cash, so I could keep being soooooo close to making bail.

I was very good with this bit. Parents with small kids would pay $5-10 if I told their children I had been placed in jail for not cleaning my room/doing my homework, etc. For people in their 20s, I'd threaten that I was very bad at playing the harmonica, but I WOULD play it and we'd all suffer unless they paid me. and for the most amount of money, older men in suits would almost always pay $20s if I avoided eye contact and stammered a lot.

eventually, the managers started to feel bad because I was in the cage so fucking long and often, that I'd need someone to brace me when I got out because I'd have no feeling in my legs. wobbling like a newborn giraffe.

but I would also rake in at LEAST $100 an hour in charity.

so they were like, hey champ. can we, uh, give you a pillow to sit on. in the cage. would you like a pillow so you're not just sitting on a cold metal slab. can we give you a pillow.

and I had to explain to them that if they gave me a pillow, people would think I was more comfortable, so they wouldn't feel as bad, so I'd bring in less money.

the compromise was that they'd bring me a nice coffee every couple hours, which I would have to try to block with my body from the customers.

all this money went to charity. that's what the money was for. it's what was on the sign. but how much they were willing to pay was very contingent on how comfortable I looked, never mind the fact that I was still a teenaged employee handcuffed inside a cage.

and out of the dozens of shifts I did this on, not ONCE did ANYONE say, hey kid I'm going to go talk to your manager because what the fuck is going on here. they would just drop money in the basket, and I'd thank them and sip from my secret drink.

I actually had people get MAD at me that I told them I was far away from bail, they donated like $15, and then 20 minutes I got let out because my shift ended.

again. the money was for charity. it was on the sign that was very clearly placed on the upper half of my cage.

so yeah. even when people think they mean well. people can be really, really fucking stupid.

[sayusims]

Jinshi and Maomao relationship detail

At first, when watching The Apothecary Diaries, I didn't really want Jinshi and Maomao to be together. I mean, I wanted them to be, but since Jinshi was obviously so much more in love than Maomao, I did not think that it would seriously work out. However, I’ve changed my mind. As I haven’t actually read the light novels yet, some of the information I’m going to use is based on what others have said, and I can’t really confirm 100% if it is true, but since these are discussed somewhat in the community, I feel like they are.

My top reason for thinking they are good together is the fact that they pay extra attention to and look at each other more than others. In Jinshi’s case, he is known for being immensely pretty, but because this is the only thing people look at when it comes to him, it causes him to have an inferiority complex about all of the other skills that he does possess. It also does not help that he is surrounded by anomalies of people who have super strength or are insanely smart, so he feels hopelessly average in comparison. Because of this, when he met Maomao, he thought that she would be the same—someone captivated by his beauty who does not see the real him—but it was the complete opposite. His beauty does not hold worth to her. While she obviously finds him attractive and is probably still attracted to his physical body, his worth to her comes almost solely from his personality. The times in the anime that we see best that she is VERY slowly falling in love are times when she mentions him behaving differently or behaving more like himself instead of the persona he puts on daily. She does find Jinshi annoying a lot, but she likes it when he is more youthful and less eunuch-like.

When it comes to Maomao, I remember that in an episode of the anime, Maomao mentioned how she knows she is hard to read. While Jinshi cannot read her, he still tries. Jinshi never backs down or gets put off when he doesn’t understand her apparent logic; he mostly just trusts her and her judgment. He is incredibly patient with her and honestly does not try to rush things (it is KILLING ME). He is extremely worried about her well-being and making the choice that she wants, not what he wants. It is like when he dismissed her from her job in the first part of season 1. He dismissed her even though he had the power to obviously just not do it but also to just kind of make her work even if she thought it was miserable in the rear palace, because I fear that’s what at least half of the men back then would have done. But even though at this time he had a rabid crush on her and knew he was going to be miserable like he was with his toys when he was younger, he did it since he thought that was what she wanted. Another thing Jinshi notices a lot is her injuries. After, I assume, the third time of someone noticing someone else constantly getting hurt but still either waiting to get help or just not getting it at all, most people would give up. Most people would not jump off a wall and carry them bridal style to the infirmary the sixth time, but Jinshi still did, and he did it with urgency. Every time she gets hurt now, he is always panicking and doing the most he can to help, even if it's most times him just screaming. He never gets tired of her and always wants to be around her at almost every moment.

I want to get the manga volumes and the light novel so badly, but I literally have a 50-bullet-point to-read list that just keeps growing because I’ve been stuck on Crime and Punishment for the last two months. But if anyone has some show ideas (they don't have to be anime) that I can yap about and make my brain work overtime, that would be very helpful.

[roach-works]

Why did wheat become a widespread staple crop given that it's difficult to harvest/transport/etc? This is not meant to be snarky or combative in any way, it's a genuine question. Are there any books you'd recommend for learning more about this kind of economic and technological history? Thanks.

sorry, i've long since forgotten all the actual books i've read about it, but i will always recommend This Guy:

also as very much a non-expert, my semi-informed opinion on Wheat is that growing complicated and difficult compared to going to the grocery store, and doesn't stack up very well to living in a food forest like north and south americans managed, either.

however, wheat is a grass, and grass grows in a lot of places that people also like to live in, and so wheat farming isn't as crazy a venture as it might otherwise seem.

in a lot of climates, it's possible to plant the grass, harvest the grass seeds, and store the seeds long enough to get you through the part of the year where there's nothing much to eat. if you manage your social and material technology right, you can store a lot of the seeds, and you can even transport them around before they rot, meaning you can now export the seeds from places where grass grows into places where it doesn't. the stalks of the grass that you can't eat provides food for the animals you need to help you grow the grass. and transport the seeds, too.

the social structure required to grow wheat in bulk (a steep and violent hierarchy) does three things: feeds everyone in it with enough extra that the guys on the bottom of the organization can survive to grow more wheat next year, and allows the guys on the top can sequester the rest as profit, consolidating their power. the third thing is that as land is converted to wheat fields, it stops yielding any other food but wheat, which locks people into the system for good. once a people depend on a staple cereal grain for their main source of calories, there isn't an easy way back: forests are chewed away for more wheat fields and those woodlands that remain are shifted towards hardwoods for agricultural tools, rather than food forests with fruit/nuts/shrubs, and even those maintained as game preserves still can't support the needs of entire villages.

in arid and semi-arid conditions, it's even harder to step away from dependence on grain farming because there the agricultural development is along rivers where the land can be irrigated, and the population of people supported by grain production is extremely concentrated into those small areas rather than spread across the entire biome.

in the northern parts of eurasia where grain couldn't be produced at scale because it was too rocky and too cold, people mostly went fishing, and when they grew stuff it was hardy root crops like beets and turnips.

DISCLAIMER: this is all very approximate. but now you know as much as i know.

P.S actually here's the last thing about wheat: it probably all started as a way to reliably source and produce beer, which was invented a long time before bread. bread was invented from wheat when the guys who were producing the beer seeds wanted to start exporting beer seeds to people who wanted beer far away, so they baked the seeds into tablets you could easily transport and then ferment with water once you got to your destination. eventually the traders who were transporting the beer kits started eating them, too, and crackers as a snack food really took off. look up the wikipedia article on beer if you don't believe me.

[blessedmisery]

summary: sung jinwoo x reader - boyfriend headcannons. sfw and nsfw included. warnings: fluff, smut, idk this is silly authors note: ty for reading, hope u enjoy. likes and reblogs always appreciated <3

sung jinwoo is super introverted and literally so oblivious to anyone liking him so it'll take a while before the two of you get together

but when you do it'll be sooooo good. so so good.

jinwoo is terrible at communicating his feelings, and he will struggle to show you that he loves you at first

so you will be the one saying "i love you" first

his love languages would be acts of service, physical touch and quality time because this man seriously needs a hug but also loves doing things for you

he likes his space and alone time, but he would love to be in the same room together while the two of you do your own thing.

he'd be surprisingly really good at cooking because he's super detail-oriented and attentive

that also applies to your feelings, if you're feeling a certain way, he'll catch on instantly

but he won't really know what to do, he's pretty cold sometimes so he's not great at comforting people.

terrible texter. he texts like my dad. "ok", "👍" he's just super dry and doesn't feel the need to say more than he has to over text.

very blunt and honest, if you need advice he'll never sugarcoat. he'll tell you how things are straight up, even it it's the last thing you want to hear. he's a very no bullshit kind of guy.

arguments with jinwoo would actually be the worst. he hates being wrong and will argue until you give in and agree that he's right. he'll also fuck you while arguing to really drive the point home.

possessive. so possessive. will never let anything bad happen to you, and likes knowing that you are only his.

on that note, he also gets really jealous. but he won't make it obvious in public. however you will pay for making him feel that way later when you get home.

i imagine he looooves having his hair played with.

and just loves feeling taken care of in general. he's always taking care of everyone else that the feeling of having someone take care of him is so new but so intoxicating to him.

hates pda. he thinks that shit has a time and place (and i mean he ain't wrong) the most he will do is wrap an arm around your waist in a crowded area

but in the car? hand GLUED to your thigh. at home? always touching you or coming by to give you a kiss.

speaking of cars, he'd be a really good driver. but why have a car when you have kaisel.

BUT when jinwoo is being a normal member of society (aka not getting around on a literal shadow wyvern) hear me out, he would totally ride a motorcycle.

omg can you imagine riding on the back of it with him, the wind blowing against you while you tightly wrap your arms around his waist to hold on. fuck.

really hates valentine's day (he thinks it's stupid and a waste of time)

but that doesn't mean he still won't go all out for you and buy you flowers, chocolate, a huge teddy bear and fucking pink and red heart shaped balloons (he's so extra)

also hates his birthday, to him it's just any other day. that's when you have to come together with beru and igris and plan something out to make this man feel special.

fav season would definitely be fall or winter. he seems like someone who would despise the heat.

really annoying when he's sick. he'll pretend like he's fine and then he will act like he's dying. (he secretly just wants someone other than beru to take care of him)

forehead kisses. he loves to kiss you on your forehead, it's one of his favourite ways to show intimacy.

also gives really good hugs. he just has a really comforting aura (at least to you. others would likely disagree.)

really likes seeing you wear his clothes, particularly his hoodies. or when you sleep in his t-shirts. drives him absolutely mad.

has really good hygiene. i imagine he always smells really good.

with that, he's also a clean freak, and really hates making a mess and will get mad at you if you leave your clothes on the floor.

not a huge fan of pet names but will mostly stick to calling you "baby", "my love" when he's fucking you in missionary late at night, or "kitten" when he's feeling playful.

he's a cat person. i don't make the rules.

huge fan of the rain. he loves rainy days because they're an excuse to relax and lay in bed all day with you. and fuck.

hear me out, he would definitely be a reader. i can picture him enjoying a nice rainy afternoon with a good book. (anything to not socialize with other humans)

NOT a morning person. he likes to sleep in if he has nothing to do that day.

on that note he's a very light sleeper and has trouble falling asleep. so when he does u better not wake him tf up.

super competitive. if you're playing any games or making any bets with this man, best of luck to you. he will do anything to win.

lowkey a gamer. he's got a nice, expensive setup and he likes playing video games. especially when you're sitting on his lap while he plays.

hates being in pictures. good luck getting this man to smile in a photo.

stares at you a lot? (kinda creepy ngl) but he just really likes looking at you

now lets discuss the sex:

realistically he wouldn't be very experienced because this guy spent all his time in gates instead of talking to women.

but ofc its sung jinwoo so he'll be instantly good at anything he does

very respectful towards you overall

i imagine he's actually pretty vanilla, at least at first because he hasn't had many opportunities to explore kinks

unless he's mad. then ur getting it babe. and ur getting it good.

he will push your head into the sheets and take his anger out on you, pounding into you mercilessly while whispering dirty, degrading things into your ear.

"act like a bitch, get fucked like one" attitude when he's mad.

he's not very vocal himself but looooves to hear you make noise

lowkey size kink cuz hes tall af (6'3 i think?)

despite being kind of vanilla and abit of a clean freak this man gets filthy with you when then two of you fuck.

really likes cum play. and oral sex. he will spend hours eating you out like there's no tomorrow. he also loves getting head.

like i said he's not very vocal but if you give this man a blow job. whew. he will make the hottest sounds you'd ever hear coming out of a mans mouth. can you imagine him breathing heavily, his voice all raspy saying "fuck baby keep going, just like that" while he grabs your hair, choking you on his cock. bye.

and licking. holy shit. once he starts he wont stop. he will lick you from ass to clit. no questions asked.

really likes edging you— "what was that baby? i couldn't hear you" he'd mumble against the sensitive skin surrounding your clit after eating you out for a whole hour, pushing you so close to the edge but denying you your sweet release. by this point you're panting, tears are prickling the corners of your eyes and you've become completely incoherent. "p-please jinwoo. p-please ah, i need to c-cum" you'd utter, taking all of your energy to form that one simple sentence while tugging on his messy hair. "mmm kitten i know. but i'm not done. you just taste soo good" he'd mutter drunkenly in response and continue licking and sucking you until you've quite literally lost your damn mind.

hes so pussy drunk omfg

dacryphilia. really likes seeing you cry from his edging or overstim during sex

"you're mine. only mine". constantly whispering this in your ear while you fuck. (like i said, the man is possessive)

has the prettiest cock (just like him). not wide but he makes up for that shit in LENGTH. def above average length. good luck fitting that shit all the way in (if u say u can't he'll make u)

one word: fingering. yeah. those long, slender fingers will be exploring every inch of your clit and pussy. and you'll be loving every second of it.

loves to cum together. he's a big fan of creampies.

big handcuff enthusiast. likes to see you struggle.

his favourite position would be missionary. like i said, he loves looking at you and hearing the noises you make. missionary is ideal for him.

very big fan of shower sex. something about getting home after a long day and having a good fuck in the shower is so appealing to him.

"good girl" yeah mhm. he'd say this. a lot.

praises. these will be rare with jinwoo and you'll really have to earn it but he will praise you so good when you do.

ass > boobs. like i said, i don't make the rules babe.

© @blessedmisery 2025.

[gallifreyan85]

Before the day is done

pairing: Agatha x reader

summary: cast out of the only life you've ever known, you find yourself in the imposing presence of agatha harkness herself, set to get revenge on the witches you're with. she deals with them accordingly, but what to do with you?

A/n: had this in my WIPs for a while now, thought I'd try and make something out of it. This is sort of a part zero?? for this fic, but can be read as a standalone. enjoy!!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆

Your head ached. You had only yourself to blame for the situation you found yourself in, seeing as everyone else had already given up on you. Your village, your family, your acquaintances... everyone. And so, alone, naive, defenseless, you managed to stumble into the path of none other than one of the most feared witches in existence.

Agatha Harkness.

The Agatha Harkness.

You realized it soon enough, but it was already too late. It seemed the witches that had so kindly taken you in, showed you sympathy by letting you stay for a night, had also angered her. And she came to get her revenge. It was only a matter of time before she captured you too, bound you with magic and who knows what, and you couldn't- you didn't see a way out of this. You were already cold, exhausted, trembling before her in fear while she sighed. Tilted her head. To one side, then the other, like a predator looking at some helpless animal they had caught, debating the best way to--

„My, my." she murmured to herself, voice low yet intrigued. „It seems I've got myself a little extra this time. What do you think, darling? Should I go ahead and—" she waved a hand, making you flinch.

You followed her calm gaze to the bodies of the witches she'd fought. Well. It wasn't exactly much of a fight. One second they were all turning on her, blasting her with magic, and the next---

Purple.

Blinding.

All-consuming.

And she just laughed, held out her hands as if saying come and get me, go on, as if teasingly luring them to their demise. And that was indeed what happened.

They dropped like ragdolls after that, one by one, drained, powerless.

Dead.

Everyone but you. You had hid, of course, too afraid and surprised and taken off guard by being woken from the first sleep in two days by all the magical crossfire and spells in the air.

When you raised your head a little more the air felt heavy with power, the aftermath of wilting magic, cast and now split into nothing. You allowed yourself a shaky inhale. Agatha, still in front of you, just smirked.

She moved her hand about, enjoying the way you almost winced every time it shifted in your direction.

"Go on, dear." she said coolly, "Give me a good reason to keep you alive. Or else... well..." she smiled, giving the clearing you were in another glance. No words left your mouth. You wanted to speak, to plead, anything, really you did, but you were just... frozen.

You blinked.

She blinked.

Her hand paused in the air, movements ceasing momentarily.

You felt the back of your throat tighten, the threat of tears in your eyes as heavy as the weight holding your bound hands, magic pressing against you from all sides. You were trapped. Alone. There was no changing her mind, and you had no real, good enough reason for her to spare you. A tear slipped down your cheek. Then another. And another. She sighed.

"Oh, Hecate." you heard her scoffing. "Are you seriously crying?"

A sob escaped you, shaky and uncertain. Almost apologetic. She sighed again, looking annoyed, not that you saw it through your endless steam of tears.

"If you're going to sob at my feet at least try to have some-- hey!" you flinched when she lowered herself down to look at you, blinking at her tearfully.

"Are you listening to me?" she asked.

You nodded quickly.

"Do actually know anything useful? Like, at all?"

A shake of your head. And another sigh from her, frustrated this time.

"Hell's sake." she murmured. "You really are useless. Fine."

She stepped back, and you almost stepped forward.

You weren't even sure why.

You should have kept a distance, a safe distance, but nothing you did felt safe anymore, not for a long time until she--

The movement was a mistake. Because she paused. Stood up. Looked down at you. She was frowning now. It only made you cry harder.

"What was that?" she asked.

You gulped.

Words seemed to find you, your voice, returning.

"I- I'm sorry—" but she cut you off at once, looking affronted,

"No-- no. Don't you dare lie to me or so help me I'll look into your head for myself."

That made you freeze. You knew a little about her. Famous, ancient, scary witch. But could she really do that? You supposed she could. So instead of letting her make up her mind you simply blurted,

"I-- I don't-- know."

An eyebrow raised. She looked unimpressed.

"You don't know?"

You shook your head pathetically.

"You don't know why I caught and bound you here and instead of pleading for your little life you actually move closer towards me?"

"I-it's just-- I've been..."

"Yes?"

"I just- I've been... alone... for so long... and I didn't r-really feel safe, at all, but then when you..."

Oh, now she was listening. With a sort of bewildered expression on her very-much-not-349-years-old-looking face. And you just went on. You already lost your dignity. Might as well tell her everything now. What was the last time you were so honest with someone? You found it sad that you couldn't even remember.

"I just... thought... you... you took them down so quickly, like... like you weren't even trying, and I thought, whoever is on your side must feel really, really safe." you said.

It was an odd thing to say. But it was the truth. However terrifying she did seem, there was something about her that seemed to lure you in. Made you want to find out more.

She gave you a look.

Frowning. Processing. As if your words had made zero sense.

"This is so depressing." she muttered, stepping away, disappointed almost. "Honestly, I was about to threaten you and everything and you're already so close to falling apart I didn't even get to making you beg."

"I-- I can still—"

"Oh, can you?" she retorted sarcastically, tilting her head in an exaggerated move. You winced.

"Are you really so pathetic that—" she turned abruptly, then stopped, as if really, really begrudgingly deciding something.

You stayed quiet.

And then, just barely, slowly, so faintly, you felt her magic around your hands loosen a little. You sniffled. Looked up. She was still standing there, stock still, lost in thought. You hesitantly got up. Stumbled. Caught yourself.

She turned so abruptly again that you startled. Her eyes went over you. It seemed she wasn't expecting you to stand up.

A moment of silence. Then-

"Alright, I see this has been a complete waste of my time," she sighed, annoyed, "and you did show some self restraint not attacking me like they did... of course I suppose that was just..." her words trailed off. "But I'm feeling generous today, and this pity party going on in your head really is very pathetic, so... you're free to go."

You said nothing. What was wrong with you? Why did a part of you want to come with her? You let yourself see it for a moment, not alone anymore, but by her side, gaining insight into magical knowledge and-- maybe even learning how to control it. How to do what she can do.

And you scrambled after her.

"W-wait--- wait- please..."

"Oh, now she pleads." Agatha sighed, turning around. "I think I told you to leave. Not many people get the chance to walk away from me unscathed, dearie, so consider yourself lucky and be on your merry way."

"But I want to come with you." you blurted.

She turned. Fully. Facing you again, looking utterly confused. Like no one had said those words to her before.

"With me." she echoed. "You're so desperate, aren't you? Willing to tag along with any powerful witch you meet? Darling that'll only get you more problems. You want to be safe? Learn to protect yourself. And don't get in my way again."

"But I don't know how." you said, a little more sure of yourself but still desperate. You took another tentative step closer.

"Does that sound like my problem?" she said flatly.

You looked up at her, pleading.

"Don't give me those eyes, kid, that won't work."

You blinked. Came just a little closer.

"I'll do anything you want—" you offered hopefully.

"Anything, you say?" a sly smirk on her face, prefect teeth smiling, "Anything at all?"

A nod.

"You don't know what you're getting yourself into darling. I'm not much of a caring teacher."

"I don't care. Just please. Let me come with you, I can- help. I can be useful, please—"

"Alright, alright, enough of that. I don't want to listen to more of this pathetic nonsense." She scrutinized you once more, as if assessing whether or not you'd be good on your word.

"And you'll do anything I say."

You nodded. "I promise."

She smiled. Not a cruel smile, but something mocking, teasing you almost, as if saying you'll regret that later, darling. You blinked, eyes still teary, and before you could say another word she nodded. The faintest, barest, hint of a nod.

"Fine."

You swore you wanted to jump up and down. But you stayed put. Didn't move. Scared you misheard her. When you turned around again she was already walking, going down the grassy path, leaving you in the mess of her destruction.

"Come on then, hun." she called, pausing for the merest second, "magic won't wait for you, and neither will I. Let that be your first lesson."

You watched her for a moment, imposing, confident, formidable. Perhaps things would be different now. You'd make them different. You'd make sure of it. You hurried after her, trailing by her side, absentmindedly rubbing over your sore wrists and standing just a little taller. Like an apprentice. Like a witch. 

A/n: title is from Seven Devils by Florence + The Machine. Feel free to comment if there's something more you'd like to see from Agatha in the future. Also, I'm thinking of making a tag list (tagging people when posting a new agatha fic) so if anyone is interested in that comment here or send me a message on private. Love y'all!! <3

[3liza]

the twisted metal show is just getting progressively goofier and funnier and I can't emphasize enough how refreshing that is, even though it's missing a lot of the same stuff I was complaining about missing with fallout. a good attitude can excuse a litany of sins tbh!!! it's correctly on tone with the source material (which is dumb as hell) and not stuck up its own ass and not trying to adopt any more elevated message than "Orange County is full of psychopaths" which is something we can all get behind tbh

they are clearly aiming for a thunderdome or escape from LA tone and getting, generously, almost as close as they can without thunderdome production budget. once again the wardrobe is really lacking, which always bugs me when wardrobe is so easy to do on no budget if you just hire the right creatives. i don't want to watch serious or irony poisoned post apocalyptic shit anymore, I'm fed up. whanging that horseshoe as close as you can get to "mad max" and falling short is preferable to whatever smug tech conference bullshit was going on in fallout.

I'm not saying it's good but it is fun. I'm especially enjoying how the stupid action movie dialog is getting progressively more self aware, but not in an annoyingly ironic way. they are getting comfortable with letting their writers and actors softshoe a little bit and we're starting to get Simpsons-style crowd bits like the protagonists encountering some poor bastard strung up by one of the wasteland gangs and remarking that "maybe he deserved it" and the extra groans and raspily retorts "I didn't!", which got a genuine laugh out of me because they didn't linger on it and let it get stale.

i wish they had pushed this a lot father in terms of making it more late 90s grimdark gargoyle shit like the games, but that stuff is expensive and I think they spent all their money on actual vehicles (which I respect) and didn't have a lot left over for costumes and set dressing

what's most surprising about this entire production is how laser targeted it is at people born between 1980 and 1988, which cannot be a significant television viewership in the larger picture. there is almost zero effort to make this relatable to anyone outside 40 year old Oregon Trail millennials. the soundtrack is so fucking funny

special mention to casting a bunch of actual 40 year old women and letting them look haggard and dirty and wrinkled for once

really Sweet Tooth is the biggest disappointment. i understand he's the franchise figurehead but they fumbled it imo. i don't think will arnett is the right casting. idk if sweet tooth should even talk or be human tbh, I kind of always saw him more as a sort of ogre or avatar than just a normal human psycho killer, and having him onscreen so much from the beginning was probably network mandated but really spoiled the biggest narrative tension for franchise fans they could have saved up to cash in on a good reveal later. oh well. alternately I think leaning into it being JUST will arnett in a clown mask would have been funnier than trying to split the difference with dubbing arnett over a more physically powerful Joe Samoa playing the body

[klausysworld]

Human Highschool Playboy Klaus x Virgin Reader

Reader has a crush, klaus is a player, she is in love he doesn’t care, they have sex (one night stand and he‘s gone in the morning) it’s her first time

Then later e.g: on a party she a little drunk

They talk she cries and tells him it was her first time

He feels guilty and takes care of her

Then they have sex and he’s extra soft

Love your work xoxo❤️

The Softness Within

High School was easy for Klaus Mikaelson. 

He could breeze through it with a smirk on his face and a bunch of guys patting him on the back as he made his way through the hall with another girl on his arm, always different from the week before. 

For Y/N it was a little more difficult.

People would shove past her, let her stumble into the nearby lockers or purposefully smack the top book from her hands to the floor, laughing as she just watched it slide down the halls that haunted her day after day. 

There was only really one thing that she looked forward to each day and that was seeing Klaus. 

She knew he probably didn’t even know who she was but he wasn’t cruel to her like other boys were. 

He didn’t shove her or tease her. A few times he’d even smiled at her.

It was rare for her to even bother showing up to a party, for some reason she had. Maybe because she actually liked the girl who was throwing it.

But for whatever reason that she was there, she ended up flush against the wall, music blaring as her mouth moved with Klaus’s desperately. 

His hands tugged at her dress roughly and she pulled back, a little anxiety in her eyes. 

Both Klaus’s hands cupped her face as he pulled her back into a kiss. 

“I want you.” He murmured to her, his voice so low that it made her fold almost instantly. 

They ended up at her house, Klaus pushing her down into the mattress as he groped roughly at her thighs. It was clear that his body was hungry for her, almost as starved as her heart was for him. 

The night wasn’t as blissful as she’d imagined it.

He was a little rougher than she’d have liked for her first time, it stung more than she’d been prepared for. Hurt.

Eventually the ache dulled and it started to feel better, she started to cling to him. 

Klaus’s fingers had slipped between her legs whilst his hips rutted to hers.

Her little moans fueled the heat between them until she couldn’t breathe. 

Time had somehow crawled and raced by all at once until sleep had taken them both.

When it came time to wake, Klaus must’ve done so long before her for the space where he’d been was already cold. 

There was no stopping the tears from slipping down her soft cheeks as she clutched her pillow between her hands. 

For the first time in a long time Y/N missed a couple days of school. 

Her body was exhausted, her heart humiliated.

Still, eventually she went back to school.

She ignored him in the hall, not that she thought he’d notice her anyways, and made sure not to sit anywhere near him in any classes. 

Y/N didn’t plan to go to any party ever again but one of her friends ended up dragging her to one, she was already reluctant so her friend decided not to tell her that it was at Klaus’s house. 

She only realised when she bumped into his older brother, he’d scoffed under his breath and muttered about having too many teenagers in his house. 

Y/N felt sick in an instant.

Which was how she ended up in his upstairs bathroom, too many people were fucking in the ones downstairs that she had to go to the third floor to be in a quiet room where she could freak out and be sick. 

That was how Klaus found her, sobbing over a toilet seat and trembling as the occasional gag shook her body.

“Y/N?” He questioned gently, kneeling down beside her and rubbing her back gently. “Did you drink too much, love? You didn’t take anything right?” He asked with a concerned frown. 

Her head shook as she moved back, her back resting against the edge of the bathtub, the coldness making her flinch as she sniffed. 

Klaus grabbed some tissue to wipe her mouth and settled in front of her.

His head tilted a little, trying to catch her eyes which were now glued to the floor as her eyes struggled not to let anymore tears fall.

“You need some water, sweetheart?” He asked and she wanted to just say no and walk out but her throat was sore from the crying and retching. He softened when she nodded and disappeared for a minute or two before coming back with a glass of ice cold water. 

His arm slipped round her shoulders with ease as he helped the glass into her hands and watched her drink it, mumbling encouragement. 

“I’m sorry,” She whimpered, her tears dripping into her water making him wince a little and pull the glass from her. “I didn’t know it was your house- I didn’t even wanna come.” She cried and he frowned, shushing her gently.

“Hey, hey. What’s wrong, love? You don’t need to be sorry, I don’t mind you in my house.” He smiled, stroking her back gently. She sniffed and fell silent.

He probably didn’t even remember that they had slept together.

She was probably no good, utterly forgettable.

Klaus watched her expression sadden, a look of hopelessness. 

“You didn’t want to see me again.” He realised after a moment. His hand kept rubbing her back, trying to soothe her. “It’s okay, most girls get a little embarrassed after one-night stands. You usually avoid people for a while? That’s okay, I get it.” Klaus nodded, trying to be understanding but it made her cry harder.

“I don’t- I-” She sniffed and choked a little on her words. “I’ve never slept with someone before- I don’t know what I’m doing.” 

His entire face shifted at that.

“Oh.” He whispered, nodding slowly. 

The deep realisation that he’d taken Y/N’s virginity was one thing but remembering how he’d been that night, it was no wonder that she’d been avoiding him. 

“I’m so sorry, love.” He muttered, his arms circling her a little tighter to try to offer solace. “I should have… I should have…” His voice died off as he looked down at her, the stains across her cheeks and the redness in her face made his stomach twist.

“Did I hurt you, Y/N?” He murmured, frowning as he looked her over. The dress she was wearing this time covered her arms too, she didn’t want anybody to see her skin, to see her or touch her. Klaus. It was so Klaus didn’t want her. 

“The bruises are gone now.” She mumbled, using the tissue to wipe her eyes and her nose. “It didn’t hurt that much after a bit. I liked some of it, I just didn’t expect…I don’t know.” 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. “I would’ve been gentler if I’d known.” 

Klaus sighed to himself, ashamed.

“Come on, at least let me look after you know.” He helped her up and brought her to his room, kissing the top of her head and telling her to sit on her bed. 

“You can sleep here tonight, you’ve been drinking. I’ll get you some pajamas, okay?” He pet the top of her head gently.

Klaus couldn’t believe he’d left her room in the night, letting her wake up hurt and alone.

Didn’t even realise she hadn’t been in school until he really had to think about it.

She looked a little stiff when sitting in his bed, in his shirt and the plaid pajama pants he’d gotten at Christmas but never wore. Klaus smiled a little at the sight of her, he knew she wasn’t after the same thing the other girls in his bed had been. She was just upset, hurt and yearning.

Someone should have been looking after her and that night it should have been him so for tonight he’d make up for it.

Klaus got changed in his bathroom, for the first time since he was a kid he put on actual pajama pants, like the ones he gave Y/N, but after consideration decided against wearing a shirt too. 

When he stepped back into the room, she was settled under the covers, sniffling quietly.

The heat from his body mingled with hers as he climbed in behind her. His arms gently pulled her away from the edge of the bed and to his chest. She melted quickly, the firmness of his chest felt protective. Klaus helped her roll to face him, guided her face to his bare chest. 

“Let me look after you, love.” He murmured, his fingers massaging her head slowly.

“How?” She mumbled sleepily and his lips twitched up. 

His head dipped to taste her lips, but this time she pulled away. Klaus nuzzled into her ear gently. 

“I want to make you feel good. Let me show you what I should have last time.” He pleaded with her, his hands stroking her back and his arms. Her head nodded subtly and he pressed his lips to hers again, this time being able to savour the feel of her.

So soft and warm.

Klaus rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him with her legs either side of him. His hi;s gently rolled against hers, his hands held onto her waist and rubbed her back slowly.

“You’re so sweet, love.” He muttered to her, pulling his lips from hers and kissing down along her neck and gently sucking to find the spot that made her squirm. 

“There it is.” He mumbled when her breath got all cough in her throat and her body pushed back against his. Klaus grazed his teeth over the spot, leaving a dark mark in her skin whilst his hips ground up with a little more need. 

The quiet little half sounds she was making weren’t enough for him, he needed her to feel what she deserved.

So he trailed his mouth down, his hands lifting the shirt to reveal the beauty beneath. She was rolled back onto her back, him hovering over her. Both his hands followed the shape of her hips up to her breasts. His thumbs circled her nipples whilst she panted and whined. Her face blushed red and her hands shook as she tried to push his hands down.

“It’s alright love. Just feel it.” He murmured as he gently pinched her, chuckling softly at the way her body arched. “Such a good girl.” He praised, smiling when her pussy rubbed up against him through their clothes in response. 

The heat from his mouth on her stomach made her fingers tangle into his curls, following his movements as his head lowered down. 

He could hear how fast she was breathing, nervous probably.

Still he tugged the pants back down her legs so he could settle between her thighs. He eyed her core as he kissed along her inner thighs gently, gradually getting rougher and sucking red marks. 

A moan of desperation left her when his tongue delved to taste the sweet wetness that had gathered. His mouth nuzzled in, his eyes closing as he teased her clit, his tongue nudging over the hood to encourage her to swell. 

“Klaus..” She whimpered, her thighs already shaky. He hummed softly, the vibrations making her squeal and tug on his hair. “I can’t-” She gasped but Klaus only grinned into her as he circled her puffy little bud.

“You’re such a good girl, should’ve done this last time. Just got too desperate to feel you on me.” he mumbled as he lifted his hand to tease her entrance with his forefinger. A loud moan left her when he curled it inside her and he groaned, his other hand going down to slide beneath his pants and soothe himself. 

“Ah…” She cried as he grunted into her clit, his lips still sucking her in as he stroked himself teasingly. 

Klaus slipped his tongue down to taste as she fell apart, her cum like heaven in his mouth as he squeezed himself. 

His body shifted up, mouth leaving a litter of wet marks up her legs as he knelt between them. “So beautiful.” He mumbled, looking down at how her skin glistened as she panted. “I’m gonna take you slower this time, okay?” He nodded to himself, crawling over her.

“W-wait…” She whispered, her skin still flushed and her features anxious.

He looked down at her, a look of understanding in his gaze as he leant down to kiss her cheek. 

“It’s okay.” He assured quietly, nuzzling into her jaw. After a moment of listening to her breathing and resting his head down against hers, he felt her nod against him.

“I’m ready now.” She uttered and he nodded back before kissing her lips. 

Her body was a little tense as he pushed into her, slowly edging himself in. Klaus needed to keep reminding himself that he needed to take his time for her.

His hips rolled so steadily, giving her time once he rested inside her. 

“Are you comfortable, love?” He asked and she nodded, her hands shaky as she reached up to hold onto his back. Her hands lay flat against his shoulder blades, feeling the strength he possessed as they flexed beneath her touch. “I’m gonna move now” He whispered, his brows furrowing as her nails pressed into his skin. Her body fluttered around as he drew his hips back and then forward again. 

The whimper that left her made him groan, his hands slid to her hips, trying to pull her closer so he could get as deep into her as possible. “You feel so good.” He mumbled, “You felt good last time, I should have told you. Should’ve worshipped you-” 

His words were abruptly cut off as he moaned.

Klaus’s head fell down as her whines filled the room whilst her hips rutted up against his. “I need” She whimpered and he grunted softly.

“I know, sweetheart. Bloody hell you’re desperate.” He groaned faintly and bucked into her. His mouth left a stretch of wetness across her skin, encouraging a pattern of goosebumps whilst her body twitched and tightened with his. 

The faint thump of the music merged with the knock of his bed frame against the wall.

Her sounds stroked something inside him, drove him.

Klaus’s head went back, a pant leaving him as he clung to her. 

His head nuzzled down against the side of her neck when she clamped down around his cock, effectively bringing him over the edge with her and milking him with every last pump of his hips. 

The warmth of her skin stuck to his as she held onto him, he could feel her sweet face damp with tears as he tilted to kiss her forehead. “I’ve got you, love.” He murmured quietly against her hair. “Gonna look after you” He mumbled as he gently pulled out of her and carried her over to his bathroom, flicking his shower on. He kept her in his arms, he could feel her tense as if she thought he might drop her but he knew well enough how strong he was.

Her head rested against the side of his, soft sounds leaving her as his hands cleaned her gently. “Such a good girl.” He mumbled with a small smile. “Relax against me.” 

Y/N obeyed with ease, her body exhausted and her heart craving.

The softness he used on her as he dried her off and changed her back into clothes, laid her out in clean blankets and held her in his lap.

“Gonna be here when you wake up okay?” He whispered, cupping her cheek. “Goodnight my love.”

From that day things were different.

Klaus would throw his arm over her shoulders in the hall, his buddies knew not to go shoving her unless they wanted at least one black eye and Y/N felt a whole lot more confident in being herself. She felt safe knowing Klaus was there and that he chose to be there. That he could be gentle even if he sometimes seemed a little rough around the edges.

[morlock-holmes]

I think the reason the framing rubs me the wrong way is actually the exact example listed under that heading.

Like, if you look at your bank statement and go, "Actually, now that I think of it, I haven't watched Hulu or Netflix in, like, six months, I should cancel those subscriptions." Is that *really* a "lower standard of living"?

Like, yeah I guess in a really broad sense people with the highest standard of living can waste money on things they don't want without thinking about it but is that something to aspire to?

One thing that I think makes it difficult for people to establish a healthy relationship with money is coming from a situation where you are really poor to one where you are, say, lower middle or middle class. If you are very poor you often have to deeply degrade your standard of living for very small savings, in drastic ways like "I didn't eat lunch for a few days because that was the only way I'd have the extra $60 for the power bill."

This creates a hostile attitude towards savings; saving and budgeting can feel less like a way of maintaining control of your life and more like arbitrary pain forced on you by a chaotic world outside of your control that wants to deprive you of even the tiniest pleasures of life.

You begin to associate "budget" with "loss of control" and "saving" with "making my life worse".

And if you reach a better income it is genuinely worthwhile to try to shed those associations.

And one way to do this is to realize that you've reached a point where saving money and sticking to a budget is often is not actually degrading your quality of life! Maybe it felt good to have enough money to buy all the subscription services but now you realize you only watch one of them. Is cancelling services you don't use "lowering your standard of living"? Is cutting out door dash and steam purchases for a while to save up for concert tickets "lowering your standard of living"?

Now, of course, sometimes there is a massive shock and you really are stuck with painful sacrifices.

But when you keep this puritan framing towards saving and budgeting I think it really does make it harder to do even in cases where it doesn't have to be.