#as they both just have to hang out around there | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

postmoe · 1 day ago

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I find it attractive of a beta or alpha get turned into an omega if they get fucked to much. So what about yandere alpha geshu lin x beta/alpha male reader x yandere alpha jiyan. Or yandere Mydei x beta/alpha male Reader x yandere alpha Phainon. Reader getting turned into an omega so they can keep him all to themselves and maybe baby trap him 🤭.

dude i have so many beta fantasies it's not even funny. thank you for this opportunity.

non-con, abo, male reader, beta -> omega reader,

It was always the three of you; Phainon, Mydei, (Y/n). You went through training together, fought the hardest battles together, everyone revered you like you were unstoppable.

Well, everyone respected you in a passive/aggressive way because you were covered in the musk of two supreme alphas. Unfortunately for you, in the womb, you never grew to the next stage from being a beta.

Betas were pretty rare now, they started off as the dominant second gender, but as time grew so did the power of evolution. Everyone starts off in the womb as a beta, then months down the line you unlock your social status. Sometimes, you just get stuck as the runt. There have been few cases of people opening their second gender later in life, though only within a very specific fate of events.

It's not all bad. Apparently, Mydei's and Phainon's scent was so extreme that a lot of people couldn't stand near them for a certain amount of time. Alpha's get antsy, compliment or aggressive. Omegas have gone into heat on the spot, rolling over motionless as their hormones take over. Now, they're pretty good at controlling their smell, or so everyone says.

It never bothered you to begin with, your nose not suited to judge others. You couldn't read emotions if it wasn't present on their face, which in this day and age is more of a talent than anything; at least, that's what Phainon says to make you feel better.

For a beta to get this far in life is pretty astonishing. You realise you had a lot of help from your two friends. They've been able to sniff you out when you're in danger, or their scent that lingers on your clothes is enough to stop any intelligent bandit or monster. However, even when you're feeling down about it, even when the world criticizes you for 'using' two alphas to your advantage, they both have been there to keep you reeled in.

"Why do you even bother trying to lie to us," Mydei huffs, crossing his arms over his puffed out chest, "You have a smell, too. It's not like we don't know what you're feeling."

"That's unfair," you sigh, shoulders slumping, "Maybe I just don't want to talk about it, ever think of that?"

Phainon nods, his arms coming to drape over your shoulders from behind, rubbing his cheek against yours, "Everyone is allowed to have their secrets."

You roll your eyes, going back to polishing your sword with the rag while he lounges against you, "It's not even a secret, just the usual shit." You go silent for a moment, feeling their eyes burn holes into for more information. It should have been common knowledge by now that you won't get out of anything from them, so you gently place your sword down groan, "Fine! I walked past one of your fan groups today. An omega was saying how I was only holding back your true potential, that with me on the battlefield then you can't go all out."

Both of them opened their mouths to speak, you held up your hand to zip them shut.

"And before you say anything; yes, I know that I'm strong too. Yes, I know I can fight. Yes, I know they're just 'jealous' that I get to hang around you." You can't make eye contact with either of them, knowing that you might just crack if you do, "... It doesn't always help. I'm okay with that, though. This is the life I chose and I can deal with all the shit thrown my way."

Phainon buried his face in your neck, sniffling into one of your more sensitive parts, the scent glands. You shivered from the contact, he didn't seem to mind as he practically cried, "You're so strong, (Y/n)! But you know, you still have to take care of your mental health, too. I think you should stay away from those people for a while."

Mydei stood from his spot on the grass and walked over, ruffling your hair with his hand before dragging it down your face and to trace your neck, "We haven't been around because of the recent attacks, so our scent is waning from you. Here, we'll ward them off."

You shook your head out of their grip and rolled to the side, away from them, "I don't need you to scare anyone away by smothering me. I think your scent only makes them more mad."

"It's natural biology for an alpha to cover what's theirs in their smell, you can't just tell us to stop," Phainon argues, shrugging like it's the most obvious thing.

With a laugh, you stand and pick up your sword, "Since when am I yours?"

They both silently looked to each other, communicating in a language you would never understand. Mydei tells you, "You've been our beta longer than you've been alone."

"Yep~" Phainon teases, "Should have thought about that before you became our friend."

Yeah, right. One day these two will find their omegas, they'll create a beautiful family and you can be the cool, beta uncle that showers the kids in annoying gifts to rile up their parents. "Sure, whatever," you dismiss, now taking on an offensive stance, "So, we sparring or what?"

...

Storm season is fast approaching in this part of the land. You three had been sent out patrol the far, outer lands on a 'boys' camping trip'. The trek made you sweaty, the days humid and the nights cold, yet you didn't stop until you reached an open cave near the top of the mountain.

Forests surround you, rushing rivers and falls heard in the distance, and the sounds of insects chirping were drowning your ears. You had abandoned your shirt long ago, rolling yourself in insect repellent that did well to make your two companions scrunch up their noses in distaste.

As you set down the heavy bags in the cave, the sun setting in the distance, you noticed some faded, rock drawings on the walls. Walking up to them, you see crude images of stick figure deaths, a chimera with little hearts around it and a spurting dick. Phainon placed his hand on your shoulder, "Mydei drew the penis."

You both look over to see him skulling his sack of water, giving you both the middle finger. You purse your lips, "Even though I've known you for so long, it's always weird to see such a childish side of you."

After setting up camp, you realise how much you may have missed when you weren't able to accompany them on missions. This place is gorgeous, and they only tell tales of greater environments, it left you feeling a sense of awe and a pang of sadness. When they laugh together, bicker, playfully shove at each other, you can see it the way everyone else sees it.

Two, great alphas Mydei and Phainon - plus you. Little, ol' beta you.

It's nothing to get worked up over. Not a big deal, not an issue at all. You notice they've stopped talking and are looking at you with concern. Fuck. Why are you having this crisis now of all times? They can definitely smell you, they know what you're feeling and they're expecting an answer.

You smile at them widely, "Sorry, I just got lost in a daydream." Can they smell when you lie, too? If so, they speak nothing of it.

...

Being able to swim in such beautiful, clean water was a luxury you didn't know you needed. The baths and streams around Okhema were amazing, there's no doubt about it. Hot springs sent from natural sources, lotions and soaps created from the best ingredients, but this... This was something altogether new.

The water was a cold that made your muscles relax, the flavour refreshing and dare you say, curative. The sound was a delightful white noise of rushing water and splashing ripples from either of you or the fish that swim by.

On the shore, Phainon was the last to disrobe, the three of you deciding to skinny dip as a fun, good morning. You greet him with a smile as he resurfaces from bombing into the water, shaking your face of stray droplets, "Are you sure it's alright for us all to be here? I really think one of us should keep watch at the cave."

He lays on his back, closing his eyes while he floats around you, "Don't stress, there are others at points around the outer city. Someone is always watching from one direction or another."

"I see... I guess I'm just wor-" your voice is cut off as your ankle is suddenly grabbed and you're yanked down under the surface. You see the blurry image of Mydei, the red tattooed lines on his skin the main stand out for the fuzzy, underwater alpha.

The two of you duke it out - poorly - until you both resurface and you're gasping for air. He huffs out a breath of his own, hiding any semblance of exhaustion, "You're going to need to fight better than that if you want to get on our level."

As if coming to your rescue, Phainon swims over to him, "Oh, please, as if it's normal for someone to be capable of fighting under water." He then winks to you before shoving the blonde's head down, effectively drowning him out.

The three of you relax around the falls, floating idly in the water side-by-side. You think you could fall asleep, except your nose twitches at an interesting smell. You've smelt it before, very faintly and only when they really push it. What can be excruciatingly stunning to others, you only get a whiff of as a beta; the smell of these alphas.

Mydei and Phainon are a rare sort, extremely strong and capable of power beyond mosts comprehension. A few people are rare like that, some omegas even being too intoxicating for the outside world. It's a pleasant smell, to you, something you not-so-secretly indulge in whenever you get the chance. It also makes you feel slightly more normal.

You wade over and gently rest your head on the upper part of Mydei's stomach, closing your eyes and sighing happily, "I don't get why people can't be around you guys if you're too strong. I like your smell."

Phainon playfully pouts at you choosing Mydei, coming over to join you and rest his head on his chest. He inhales the Kremnoan's scent, smiling serenely, "Omega's and Alpha's never really stop developing their senses until their mid 30's. The older you get, even smells like perfumes can become too much, let alone the emotions of someone with tremendous power."

"Does that mean you guys aren't holding back anymore if I can smell you?"

Mydei moves a wet hand to pet your head, "We don't need to hold back up here."

"Besides," Phainon gazes at you with a fondness in his eyes, "It's nice to share something so personal with someone close, don't you think?"

They can't just relax like this around anyone, and since you all spend most of your time in the city, you hardly get a chance to get a whiff of them. A giddy smile decorates your face, your eyes closing as you relax once more, "Yeah, I agree."

...

On the third day you notice something odd. Your friend's seem to be more agitated, little offsets leading to snarling and biting, every twig snap or rustle has them staring in that direction in case of a particular threat.

You've never seen them like this.

They must be stressed by all the work that's been unloaded onto them. An argument broke out five minutes ago about something you didn't understand, the two deciding to take a walk to cool off and collect more firewood. You decide that this is the perfect time to help them out, picking up a sword and attaching it to your waist before heading out on a patrol. When you get back, they can relax at the duties already being fulfilled.

You don't know the area very well, however, you did accompany them the past couple of nights so you have an idea of where to go. You're not too stressed about getting lost, the trail somewhat visible to someone like you, who has been taught overcome these kinds of obstacles. What you didn't expect was that it gets darker quicker under the canopy of trees.

It appeared you had an hour of daylight left, yet only fifteen minutes later and you noticed a dramatic change. The mountains are certainly an interesting place to be, you're usually stationed closer to the city and nearer the fallen towns.

With the darkness comes fauna that arouse at night, a particular croak gaining your attention. You crouch down with interest, seeing a teal coloured frog with a lighter stomach hop into a puddle. It was smaller than the palm of your hand, yet the sound it made was so loud you would never expect it to come from such a tiny creature.

Your admiration was halted as you hear heavy thumping from deeper in the brush. It's fast, leaves and sticks being moved and thrown out of the way to make room for whatever is coming at you. You quickly draw your sword and take a defensive stance, readying for whatever may be in store.

If it's a boar or something similar, you could climb one of the thicker trees and make your way around by jumping branches. If it's something more like a giant bush cat, then you would have no choice but to fight it.

Turns out, it was neither. Before you had the opportunity to lay eyes on it, there is ablur of movement and your weapon is thrusted from your hand, flying off and landing into the dark distance. You're immediately incapacitated, wrist close to snapping and arm yanked back as you're brought to your knees.

Mydei is snarling aggressively in your ear, holding you down like some convict trying to escape. He spits his words like venom, "What the fuck did you think you were doing? Are you stupid?! Leaving the nest like that wandering off on your own!"

You cry out in pain as he tightens his grip, the sound and pheromones you let off making him back off slightly but not letting go.

Before you can ask what the hell is going on, Phainon appears behind you and walks around so he can kneel at your front. He tenderly cradles your face and looks over you for any other injuries, "Don't hurt him, Mydei. He made a stupid decision but it wasn't his fault."

A breath of relief leaves you when he finally lets go. You slump and cradle your aching arm, flinching when Mydei falls to his knees behind you and resting his face in the crook of your neck. He mumbles into your flesh, "Why did you leave like that? You could have gotten hurt."

With a new found annoyance, you flick Phainon's hands away from you and shrug the other off your back, "What the fuck??? Why are you both acting like I just up and left?"

"Because you did up and leave," Mydei growls, only halting when he and Phainon meet with a hard glare. He tuts and stands, making sure you have nowhere to run if you decided to flee, "We should have just been outright with him from the beginning."

You didn't like the sound of that. Without a word, you look to Phainon for an answer, Mydei is acting too impulsive for your liking right now. Phainon stands before you, both of them now crowding any escape with how close they are, "In truth, we brought you up here because we knew our ruts were coming and we wanted you with us."

"P-Pardon?" It was so incredulous you were sure you heard wrong. But, what else could he have said? "You do know what I am, right? We've only known each other for a couple of decades so be honest if you need a reminder."

Mydei scoffs and grabs you by the back of your shirt, hefting you to your tippy toes to growl, "Our Beta's got jokes. If you can jest then you can mate."

"WHAT?!" You kick your feet comically in the air, trying to find some sort of purchase, "I can't mate - I physically cannot mate! Not with an Alpha!!"

Phainon chimes in giddily, "Two Alphas! Don't worry, we'll ensure you're thoroughly pregnant by the end of this rut."

Body limits aside, being a beta means your reproductive organs aren't open to be used. They're sitting inside you, dormant. For some reason, you don't think they see that as a drawback, instead viewing your biology as more of a challenge to be tackled.

...

Day six and you're sore. Your legs, which have been in every position possible. Your arms, which are restrained when they're doing anything that's not fucking you. Your poor, poor hole, which hasn't been dry in days. Your oversensitive cock, now you can't tell what liquid comes out, your last orgasm streaming like piss on the rock below.

Phainon drags his hot, wet tongue up your neck, moaning as he slips his erected cock into you again. Your mouth hangs open, arse clenching when he's stopped by his knot hitting your rim. He's got you in a full nelson, your thighs over his own, a sound of discomfort coming from you at the stretch of his knot trying to enter you.

He shudders, lightly humping upwards, "Do you smell that, Mydei? He's changing."

Mydei flops his own dick in your face, tracing his leaking tip along the bone of your cheek before he slips his length between your lips, "How interesting. All our darling beta needed was a little push."

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as they fuck you again, your pretty, little hole gaping ever larger to accommodate them.

...

The cold, wet soil near the falls was blissful on your overheating skin. You've never felt this hot before, you assume it's a fever coming on from being under these two for however many days now. Mydei has you on your back, tongue swirling and mouth slurping at your puckered arse.

It was nice to just relax and be tended to, as fucked up as that seems. Phainon was behind him, washing his own body and admiring the scene before him.

Mydei licks a stripe from your hole, up the length of your taint and to your flaccid cock. He coos patronisingly, kissing the sensitive tip and making you jolt, "Poor sweetheart, have we been too rough with you?"

It's too little too late to ask you that now. You stick with your mission of giving them the silent treatment unless necessary, turning your head away and closing your eyes, thinking back on the coolness of the soil.

Until, "A-Ahh! S-Stop!" You moan, hands going to his hair and yanking as hard as you can, trying to stop him from swallowing your cock and drinking it over and over again. The way his tongue and cheeks move against your flesh has you throbbing and twitching in his mouth. "I can't, I can't," you breathe, swaying your head side to side as if to deny the oncoming torture.

But you can't, even half-hard he has you spurting your cum down his throat. You hold his head down with each half-hearted thrust, only to pull again before another tingling jolt of your hips.

When you can open your eyes again, you pleadingly gaze to Phainon, who had paused his washing to stare solely at you both. His eyes dart to meet yours, mind working overtime to bring him out of his daze and pull lightly on his companion, "Hey, save some for me, okay? Let him recuperate a bit."

Mydei flies his elbow back, not getting off you. At this, Phainon clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and locks the blonde's head with his elbow, flipping him back into the water.

You take a deep breath as they start to wrestle. Now you can rest again, you rarely get time to yourself now. When they sleep, sometimes, you're still plugged with one of them inside you, cockwarming throughout the night. Otherwise, when they go hunting, you might be tied tightly inside the cave, though there is usually at least one of them with you.

A gentle rain starts, the drops hitting your heated face. You need this, the rain a lot cooler than the falls as it collects in the sky. Lately, you've been feeling weird, unwell, hot. It's unlike anything you've ever experienced before.

Not to mention their scent. The boys' sweat, bodies, just everything about them is becoming less off putting and more desirable than ever. If you're honest, you're scared with what's happening.

...

They had both left you in the cave, the rain a perfect mask for hunting good meat right now.

"Need to keep our darling's energy up!"

You're not sure when, but some time after they left you were reeling in some sort of pain. Not like being slashed by a sword, or thrown by an enemy, but more like a strange punch to the gut. It blossomed within you and bloomed around your body, effecting your head and pelvis the most.

Breathing became difficult, your chest rising and falling quickly, you couldn't focus on how to fix it. No, not with the gnawing pain and discomfort in your gut.

You had wormed your way towards the entrance but the rope only let you go so far. They didn't give you enough leeway to get more than halfway through the cave, which meant you couldn't get any rain to cool you down.

What you did find, however, was their sashes they didn't wear today. Your nose twitched, and you reached your tied wrists over so your fingers could grab the red fabric and scrunched it to your face, moaning in absolute delight. Quickly, you secured the blue and gold one and weaved it between your legs, covering as much of your body as you could.

You're not sure when they came back, only realising they were standing ominously at the entrance of the cave when their musk started to seep heavier than the sashes you were breathing. The rain hadn't let up, both of them drenched and Mydei holding the antlers of a dead deer beside him.

Your jaw trembles, tears running down your cheeks as you whimper, "What's happening to me?"

It's only when you talk do they enter, dropping the carcass to the side before carefully kneeling down to cradle you. Your ropes are torn off and you sit between the two men, both leaning so they can run their teeth over the scent glands in your neck.

You whine as Mydei gently nibbles you, a low groan causing your cock to leak rivulets down your shaft, "Perfect for biting now."

Phainon reaches to gasp your cock, smoothly jerking up the length before circling his fingers along the glands, "I knew your unawaken second gender was this. You just had to be an omega, what with the way you were taunting us; begging to be bred."

Unawaken... Omega? No, that's-

"Hah~ Please..." You lift your hips when you feel fingers enter inside you, easily stretching you open now.

Mydei chuckles deeply, grinning at all the new possibilities going through his head, "Perfect for knotting now, too."

#yandere x reader #yandere mydei x reader #yandere phainon x reader #alpha beta omega #yandere alpha #yandere hsr #male reader #yandere honkai star rail #x reader #yandere alpha mydei x reader x yandere alpha phainon

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nmhdreamscape · 1 day ago

Text

wanna bet? ✧ l.dh

pairing | non-idol!haechan x fem!reader word count | 6.4k words synopsis | a bet with your enemy where the winner gets whatever they want, what could possibly go wrong? besides, you weren't one to lose, especially to lee haechan. content | enemies to lovers (one-sided), flirty, smut, lots of back and forth, they love to cut each other off, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (stay safe!), teasing, hair pulling, some marking, messy request | haechan + 1 (as part of valentine's gift series)

meeting up with your friends after class was almost routine at this point. your chosen hang-out spot was the small garden area at the centre of campus, always sitting on the grass as the tables were always taken. the small group of you would take it as an opportunity to debrief and vent about your days. however, today was different. when you had agreed to meet with everyone like you always do, you were expecting an opportunity to vent about the group assignment coming up or how your latest essay was marked way too harshly. instead, you were greeted by talk of date night plans and romantic gifts.

it was valentine’s day, and you hadn’t even noticed. cursing yourself for not noticing, you reluctantly sat down alongside your friends, preparing yourself for an hour of listening to just how great everyone else’s love life was.

you were barely paying attention when the sound of your name brought you back to reality. it seems that your friends had all finished talking about their plans. all eyes shifted to you, it now your turn to detail your valentine’s plans. being the only single one of the group, you didn’t know exactly why they were asking. You decided to indulge them anyway. You began to rattle off something about how you had decided to spend the holiday alone. Too engrossed in coming up with a plausible story, you failed to hear the sound of footsteps coming up behind you.

“alone on valentines, a little sad, isn’t it?” you froze, recognising that voice from anywhere. you turned to look up at a smirking haechan. your eyes immediately narrowed, looking away from him with a scoff. you hated how he always seemed to have this air of smugness around him. hated how he seemed to command the attention of whatever room he walked into. you hated how he now sat across from you, giving you the same look he always seemed to give you. a knowing look as though he had you right where he wanted you to be, like it was only a matter of time before you fell for him like everyone else seemed to.

you hate lee haechan. and you would never give him the satisfaction of falling for him.

“god you’re annoying. didn’t your mother ever teach you to not interrupt people when they’re speaking” you spat, arms coming to cross underneath your chest. you didn’t miss the way that haechan’s eyes travelled downward to watch the movement before snapping back upward again, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

“she did, but i’m sure you can teach me some more… creative ways to shut up.” haechan leant back down onto the grass, body spread out and on full display and a hand brushing through his hair. your eyes scanned his body as he did so, feeling a slight heat rising to your ears at the sight. he was attractive, not that you’d ever let him hear that. you were stubborn, not a liar. if only his personality better matched his looks, maybe then things would be different between the two of you.

haechan just couldn’t seem to wipe the smirk off his face. he had clearly noticed the way you had noticed him. it was clear to you now that his actions being done with the intent of you gawking over him. you hated the way he got some sort of sick enjoyment out of getting a rise out of you.

“you’re actually disgusting.”

this was the normal routine between the two of you. whenever your friends has the displeasure of being in the same room as you both, they would watch your back and forths like a tennis match. haechan would always open like he had tonight with some teasing remark, always seeming to know how to push your buttons just right. you would then follow up with some kind of insult, only for haechan to then turn it into some vaguely sexual innuendo. your back and forth would continue like that until you both felt satisfied. your friends now knew better than to try to intervene after being reprimanded many times before, instead choosing to take a backseat to it all.

so that’s what your friends did, choosing to watch on in silence as you continued to go at one another. and while they knew that haechan’s comments came with the intention of driving you mad, they would have to be blind not to notice the obvious tension between the two of you. they were just waiting to see who would cave first.

“why don’t i do you a favour and take you out, that way you won’t be lonely.” haechan suggested. he now had a certain look in his eye, as though he would be doing you a favour by taking you out. you tried to barely pay it any mind, fobbing his comment off.

“i don’t need you to take me out, if i wanted to have a date, i could go out and get one.”

“really? want to bet on it?” now that caught your attention. “if you get a date by midnight you win, if you don’t, i win.” haechan continued, now sitting back upright.

“what does the winner get?”

“anything they want, so long as it isn’t too crazy.” you thought it over. knowing haechan, this was probably some sort of trap. and yet, you couldn’t seem to figure out what the downside could be. sure, there were many things haechan could force you to do if you lost. but you don’t lose, and you weren’t planning on starting now.

“bagging a date and getting to see the look on your face when i win. how could i refuse?” you sated, returning haechan’s smug attitude.

the two of you fleshed out the details together, while your friends carried on their own conversations. you needed to secure and go on a date before valentine’s was over. it could be anyone, so long as it was a legitimate date and not just some friend you had convinced to play along. you also had to make sure to get some sort of evidence of your date, such as a picture or a gift. once it was past midnight, you would meet haechan outside his dorm room and determine who was the winner.

the winner would get whatever they want from the other person, so long as it is within reason. the two of you went back and forth about what exactly ‘within reason’ meant. haechan eventually suggested that there be some sort of veto system whereby you could bypass a request, stating “i’m not an asshole, i’m not gonna force you to do something you don’t want to do.”. that was before immediately suggesting that using the veto would be the ‘cowards way out’ and something that ‘he would never do’. after thinking it over one last time, you held out your hand in agreement. haechan simply smirked at this, reaching forward to take your hand into his own. you firmly shook hands, sealing your agreement.

finding a date was going to be so easy, you had nothing to worry about.

fuck dates. fuck valentine’s. and fuck people who had dates on valentine’s.

turns out, finding a date at 6pm on valentine’s day wasn’t as easy as you thought it would be. though the universe did seem to enjoy making you suffer, so you don’t know why you were surprised. anyone you had been talking to or were casually interested in seeing were busy, already having made plans for the night.

at 7pm, you messaging anyone you had come in to some sort of contact with in your classes to see if they were free. anyone from people you’ve done a group project with to the people you’ve simply exchanged greetings with. all seemed to be busy with their own plans.

by 8pm, you were stalking the social media pages of your exes, trying to figure out if any of them were single and would be willing to take you out. much to your dismay, they all appeared to be in some sort of relationship that would prevent them from taking you out. and even though you knew some of them were shitty enough to take you out despite having someone else in their lives, you weren’t about to step on anyone's toes.

9pm brought with it desperation. time was well and truly ticking now, and you still had no hope in sight. that’s how you ended up with a horde of freshly installed dating apps staring back at you. you must have broken some kind of record trying to set them all up, cursing whoever decided that you needed to hand over your life story in order to have a complete profile.

once you got in, you immediately began swiping right in every profile that came your way, not caring if your efforts came off as desperate so long as you won. matches trickled in at a snails pace it seemed. half of them were looking for a hook-up, you now being traumatised by multiple unsolicited dick pics. the other half seemed unwilling to meet you straight away.

10pm signalled you losing hope. you finally just began to be brutally honest with the people you were matching with, hoping one of them would take pity on you and take you out. you weren’t having much luck with that strategy either, even having one of your accounts banned after one match was particularly concerned for your well-being.

11pm was when you were meant to meet the one guy crazy enough to take you up on your offer. you had thanked any holy figure you could think of when you matched, the guy being both close to campus and not scared off by your whole date-to-win-a-bet thing. you had agreed to meet at the 24-hour café on campus. and yet as the time ticked on, your match was nowhere to be found. 11 became 11:15 then 11:30 and still nothing. at 11:45 you accepted your fate, you had been stood up.

well that’s embarrassing.

but nowhere near as embarrassing it will be to admit defeat to haechan. when the alarm went off on your phone signalling that it was now midnight, you could have cried. you had actually managed to lose. you begrudgingly grabbed your things and left the café to make your way over to haechan’s dorm. after six hours of hopelessly searching for a date, you don’t think you were mentally prepared to deal with his antics. but a deal’s a deal.

pushing the door to haechan’s dorm building took more out of you than you would like to admit, your dignity seemingly vanishing into the wind. as you approached haechan’s dorm room, his figure came into view. he was wearing the same ripped jeans and sweater as before now paired with a pair of thick dark frames you had only ever seen him wear before on days when he had forgotten to put his contacts in. he chose to lean against the wall and play with his phone as he waited for you. you had taken notice of the outfit before, as you thought he looked particularly nice today. how did he manage to look this good, so late? shouldn’t he be dishevelled and in his pajamas by now?

but it also got you thinking. did haechan even have a date of his own? you knew he didn’t have a girlfriend to go out with, but maybe someone else? that would explain why he was still so well put together so late at night. but during your hangout, he never mentioned having a date of his own. and he hadn’t posted anything to indicate he was going out. did he stay all dressed up because he was meeting with you? surely not.

the sound of your platform boots against the floor altered haechan to your presence. he put his phone away in his back pocket, his eyes finally looking up to meet yours. a smirk immediately graced his lips. it was clear on your expression, he had won. you positioned yourself on the wall on the other side of the hallway with a huff.

“you can wipe that smug grin off your face, just tell me what you want as a prize.” you conceded with a roll of your eyes. you hated losing, but this was even worse. you absolutely hated giving him the satisfaction. at least you could say you tried.

haechan simply watched you, revelling in your dismay. he didn’t seem to even mull over what he might make you do, having already thought it over with the assumption that he was going to win. you knew he already had something in mind, otherwise he wouldn’t have offered the deal in the first place. what exactly was he planning?

“for my prize, you owe me a kiss.” your eyes went wide, looking at him in pure horror. as much as you wanted to believe that you had misheard him, he was crystal clear in his request. images started flashing through your head of what it would be like to kiss haechan. him having to lean down to meet your lips, hands coming to grip at your waist. how good it would feel to have him pressing against you, fingers running through his hair as he claimed his prize.

what. the. actual. fuck. since when did you think about him like that? you would slap yourself for thinking like that, but haechan had a habit of sniffing out weakness, and you didn’t want to let him see you sweat. haechan narrowed his eyes at the lack of a clap back, expecting a more explosive response. you finally decided to indulge him.

“are you serious?” you exclaimed, ignoring the slight heat you felt on the tips of your ears.

“deadly.”

“out of all the things you could get, a kiss?” haechan simply nodded, looking at you expectantly. the thoughts from earlier came rushing back to you, cheeks flaring red now.

“i’m not kissing you!” you shouted before slamming a hand over your mouth, hoping that you hadn’t woken anyone in the dorm with your antics. haechan let out a small laugh, shaking his head.

“that’s unfair! it was part of the bet, i won fair and square. it’s a perfectly reasonable request!” he justified with a huff.

“to you maybe!”

“does the idea of kissing me turn you off that much?” haechan pouted, arms crossing over his chest. you had no reasonable response to that question. because despite what you insisted you felt for the man in front of you, the idea of kissing him was not turning you off. in fact, it was kind of doing the opposite. this had to be the result of sleep deprivation, or mental overexertion from trying to find a date in such a hurry. and well… he’s attractive, who wouldn’t want to kiss an attractive man?

lee haechan was trying to coax you into kissing him. and it was working.

you studied the expression on his face. at first, you thought he was playing it up, acting all pouty in an attempt to get you to cave. but underneath it all, there was something else. had your rejection managed to genuinely upset him? it seemed like it had. the back and forth between you had always been mostly lighthearted. and while you hated his attitude, you would never deliberately want to make someone upset.

well, that’s what you would say to justify what you were about to do.

haechan watched as somehow your cheeks managed to flush an even darker red, taking a couple steps forward so that you were well and truly in his personal space. you leant upwards to press a chaste kiss on his cheek, just below the mole on his cheek bone. you immediately scurried back to your side of the hallway, watching as haechan just processed what you did.

haechan was stunned. you had actually gone through with it. sort of. his eyes scanned over your blushing figure with a smirk, fingers coming up to trace where your lips had been. you watched on in horror, coming to grips with what you had just done. you could already hear the teasing remarks he was about to spew, most likely about how you hadn’t actually fulfilled your end of the deal.

he had managed to reduce you to a fumbling, blushing, rambling mess at the mere proposal of a kiss. which is probably why you jumped to speak before he could make fun of you.

“you never specified where you wanted to be kissed. if you wanted it to be somewhere specific, you should have said. i think i did you a favour by kissing you on the cheek. if anything, i think that’s a more valid form of kissing, more intimate even. i swear i read a study that said-” your rant was cut off by the feeling of lips against yours. you froze in place, eyes finally focusing on the image of haechan in front of you, his eyes having fluttered closed as he kisses you in the way he had originally intended to happen.

and for some reason that you would definitely have to unpack later, you began to kiss him back.

now that it was happening, your imagination did not do it justice. the way his soft lips left against yours. how he chose to cup your face with his hands instead of resting them on your waist. how he pulled you in closer to him as you reciprocated, his movements becoming more rushed as you leant into him. you gripped onto his sweater tightly as his tongue slid into your mouth, eliciting a sigh from the back of your throat.

it was a few minutes before the two of you parted, out of breath and panting into each other’s mouths. you stared into each other’s eyes for a moment, coming to some silent agreement, before haechan turned around to open the door to his dorm room. you quickly shuffled inside, haechan following close behind as he closed and locked the door behind him.

you barely had time to kick your shoes off before he was on you again, lips pressing against yours in a way you could only describe as desperate. you returned his kiss with a giggle, hands coming up to tangle in his hair. at the feeling of you tugging on his hair, haechan let out a groan. he nipped lightly at your bottom lip before trailing kisses down the column of your neck. he seemed to find your most sensitive spots with ease, paying them the most attention as he basked in whatever small noises he could coax out of you.

he slowly began to move you both towards his bed, lips coming up to meet yours again. with the back of your legs hitting the edge of the bed, you felt haechan lightly push against your shoulder. now separated, you fell back against his mattress with a huff. you quickly shuffled further up the bed, watching as he crawled to be on top of you.

haechan paused when he came face-to-face with you. he stared down at you with an expression you couldn’t quite place. your cheeks grew warm at the intensity of his gaze, hands coming up to hide your face. haechan wasn’t having any of it, moving your hands to pin them either side of your head.

“what?” you finally questioned, unable to suppress the goofy smile forming on your lips. haechan let out a hearty laugh, leaning down to resume kissing you.

“you know, you could have easily won today.” he stated when he decided to pull away from you once more. you looked up at him in confusion.

“how?”

“you could have asked me out.” now you were even more confused. to accept your invitation for a date would have meant an automatic loss for him. did he want to lose?

“but that would mean you lost?”

“yeah, but it would have been worth it so see how happy winning made you.” oh. well that caught you off guard. you don’t think you had ever heard haechan say something so… romantic. and he was so genuine in his sentiment, that’s what caught you off guard the most.

haechan took your silence as an opportune moment to go back to pressing kisses against the sensitive spots on your neck. his fingers began to work at the buttons on your shirt. you watched in amusement as he struggled slightly.

“where’s all this sappiness been hiding?” you questioned, finally giving in and helping him to take off your blouse.

“it’s always been there. teasing you is just more fun.” he winked, quickly taking his own shirt off before resuming his trail of kisses down your collarbones and to the swell of your breasts.

“you’re actually evil.”

“yeah, but don’t act like you don’t like it that way.” haechan teased, movements pausing so he could rest his head on your chest and look up and you mischievously. you looked down at him and scoffed, mind beginning to conjure an appropriate retort. however, any rebuttal you had died on your tongue when haechan’s fingers slipped underneath your skirt to palm at you through your panties. he watched on with a smirk as your expression shifted from one of reprimand to pleasure.

haechan let out a quiet curse as he felt how wet you had gotten. he hastily pushed your panties aside, fingers coming to part your folds. you let out a moan as his fingers found your clit, drawing small circles around it. haechan positioned himself directly above you again, crashing your lips together in a hurried kiss. he ate up every single noise you gave him, tongue teasing them out of the back of your throat.

you felt him slip his middle finger inside of you, shallowly thrusting it in and out as his thumb came to resume the ministrations against your clit. you involuntarily parted from him with an elongated whine, back arching and head lulling back in pleasure. you felt yourself growing flushed at the depravity of it all. haechan fingering you underneath your skirt, groaning into the nape of your neck at how good you felt, spit slicked lips pressing against your skin with every noise.

“not so evil now am i?” he smirked, finally letting his finger slip all the way inside. you let out something between a laugh and a moan at the sensation, haechan somehow being able to angle his finger in just the right way to hit your most pleasurable spots with every thrust.

he was very clearly taunting you with his words, thinking he had rendered you incapable of engaging in the back and forth he enjoyed so much. the first time you attempted to respond, he slipped a second finger inside of you, resulting in you cutting yourself off with a gasp. haechan let out a small laugh at your reaction. it was like he knew you were about to make a smart ass comment. after a few more quiet moans made their way past your lips, you managed to respond.

“that’s debatable.” haechan watched you in amusement. it was clear from the way you were now gripping at his sheets that he was doing something right. and yet you still wanted to push him for more.

“how do i show you i’m good, then?” he asked with feigned innocence, removing his fingers from you entirely. you let out a high-pitched whine at the loss of pleasure. he backed off of you entirely, straddling your lap as he waited for a response. you let out a frustrated huff at his teasing.

haechan sat there silently, smirk growing wider with every moment. he wanted to do some good? then you were gonna tell him exactly how. you pushed yourself up into a sitting position, now once again face to face with the boy in your lap.

“by shutting up and putting that mouth to better use elsewhere.”

you let out a giggle as haechan pushed you back down into the mattress. he shimmied further down with his target in mind, trailing kisses along your abdomen as he moved downward. when he reached the waistband of your skirt he simply flipped the pleats up, dragging your panties down your legs and flicking them where he had flung all your other clothes.

he then positioned himself in front of your now exposed sex, letting out a string of curses at how good you looked to him. he began trailing kisses along your inner thighs, taking his time to leave some evidence behind that he had been there. on reflex, your thighs came to close around his head. he let out a groan at the feeling, hands coming up to hold them apart.

you sat up onto your elbows, letting out small noses at the feeling of his lips against your thighs. although you were a little confused. why hadn’t he taken your skirt off? surely it was just getting in the way at this point. just as he was about to move on to the main event you gripped at his hair, holding him in place. he looked up at you with an irritated look, disappointed you had just prevented him from getting a taste.

“you’re keeping my skirt on?” you questioned, your hold on haechan’s hair loosening. he furred his eyebrows in response.

“yeah? is that a problem?”

“yeah it is.”

“why?” you knew it wouldn’t be as simple as him agreeing and moving on, it never was. you were beginning to feel embarrassed by your protest, remaining in silence instead of answering. haechan sensed your reluctance, rubbing soothing circles into your thighs. “i can’t help you if you don’t tell me.” he added, looking up at you with genuine concern.

“i wanna watch you.” you admitted quietly, avoiding his gaze. haechan felt himself relax in knowing that he hadn’t done anything wrong. haechan pursed his lips as he contemplated his response. he could give in, but where was the fun in that?

“well i think you look really fucking hot in this skirt, so i’m gonna keep it on.”

“but-“

“y/n, relationships are about compromise.” haechan said with a mocking tone. the situation was almost comical. you two were probably the only people who would start bickering over the way you were about to be eaten out.

“we’re not in a relationship!” you corrected with a huff.

“just give me about five minutes and i’ll convince you otherwise.” he said with a wink, hands reaching up to grab at the hem of your skirt. he pushed it up in your direction, waiting for you to grab onto it. you did so despite your confusion, looking down at him in disbelief.

“what does that even-“ you cut yourself off with a loud moan, haechan licking a stripe up your pussy. you clung onto you skirt for dear life as haechan began to tongue at you. you watched on intently as his tongue moved against you expertly.

that didn’t last very long though, as the sensation of him finally paying attention to your clit again drove you back down into the mattress. you were sure the noises you were letting out now were loud enough for his dorm mates to hear, but you didn’t care. you released your hold on your skirt to grip at haechan’s hair, hips bucking against his face as he continued to suck on your clit.

haechan let out a groan at the feeling of your nails against his scalp. he was trying to focus on getting you off. but fuck. the sight of you was practically pornographic, expression contorted in pleasure, lips wide open with continuous moans pouring from them. haechan couldn’t help himself. he began to buck his hips against the mattress, clinging on to the small amount of pleasure that was providing.

you were well and truly lost to the pleasure at this point, fucking yourself against haechan’s face in search for your release. you untangled one your hands from his hair to push the cups of your bra aside, boobs spilling out. you began to pinch at your nipples eliciting a high whine from the back of your throat. haechan watched on in amazement, growing even more turned on if that was possible.

you were getting close, movements becoming more frenzied and desperate. haechan seemed to pick up on this. he slipped two fingers back inside of you, curling them to hit your sensitive spot just right. he felt you clenching around him, wetness dripping down his fingers and onto his sheets. that’s a problem he would gladly deal with later. you had a vice-like grip on his hair, chasing after your orgasm with little care for anything else.

your climax rushed in, suddenly clouding your senses. your eyes screwed shut as your back arched up off the bed in pleasure. haechan let out an audible whine against your clit at the way you tightened around his fingers, having to halt the movement of his own hips to avoid cumming in his pants. he helped you ride out your orgasm, only removing himself once you started letting out small whines of overstimulation.

you fell back against his mattress with a content sigh. you watched as haechan cleaned up his fingers using his tongue. when he caught your gaze he sent a wink your way. you simply shook your head with a laugh, this in contrast to the way your thighs clenched together at the sight. when you had regained some energy you came to sit up next to him. haechan looked at you expectantly, the same smug grin he wore earlier in then day now once again on his lips.

“have i convinced you?” he asked, pressing a quick kiss against your lips. you didn’t let go get away that easy. you pulled him back in, tongue slipping into his mouth. he gladly returned your movements, letting out a groan when you backed up to suck on his tongue. after a few moments, you pulled away from him, suppressing a giggle at his disappointed expression from your separation.

“almost.” you beamed. haechan looked back at you in exasperation.

“jesus woman! what more do you need?” he whined, bottom lip coming forward in a pout. it was now your turn to smirk at him.

“lie down.” you commanded. haechan complied without much thought, lying back against his mattress. you turned to straddle his thighs, reaching forward to open up his jeans. he watched on, wide-eyed, as you pulled his jeans and boxers down simultaneously, getting them off without much help from him. you bit your lip as his cock sprung back against his abdomen, tip leaking at the lack of proper attention it had received. he let out a groan as you grabbed his cock. you shifted yourself forward, your other hand coming to align yourself with him.

once his mind came back to him, haechan scrambled to stop you. he didn’t want you to think that he had only done all of this in order to get something in return. you looked back at him confused, wanting to know why he was hesitating.

“hey, you know you don’t need to do this. i wasn’t expecting anything. i’m totally fine if you leave now. i’ll be even better than fine, i’ll be amazing, spectacular even. here, i’ll just-“ you cut him off by sinking down onto his cock. you both simultaneously let out a moan at the feeling. you relished in the feeling of haechan stretching you out, while he let out strings of curses at the feeling of you being wrapped around him. once you were fully seated, you leant forward to press a quick kiss against haechan’s lips.

“you won the bet, now enjoy your prize.” you smiled. haechan returned your expression, smiling up at you brightly. you pushed back on his shoulders to position yourself up right again. you stared down at him as you lifted up your hips before slamming them back down again.

haechan watched intently as you rode him. the focused look on your face, the way your tits bounced against your bra with every movement, the way you frustratedly flipped your skirt out of the way when it was messing with your chosen rhythm. he loved how you were letting him see you like this. not the uptight and well put together person he always saw, but another side to you entirely. desperate and messy, doing whatever you could to get a sound of pleasure out of him.

“you look like a fucking mess.” haechan let slip. your movements faltered slightly, the comment flustering you. you weren’t normally like this. haechan always seemed to bring out different sides to you, and you were beginning to realise that you really enjoyed it.

“do you ever shut up?” you snapped back with a particularly harsh bounce. haechan let out a whine, hands coming to grip at your hips, halting your movements.

“i mean in a hot way! you look so fucking hot right now.” he clarified, worried he had accidentally offended you. in response, you rolled your eyes, hips rocking slightly on his cock in impatience.

“you still haven’t answered my question.”

“i’ll shut up if you make me.” challenge accepted. your lips came together in a mess, almost missing each other entirely. once haechan settled on sucking on your bottom lip, he began to thrust up into you. you let out a loud curse at the sudden movement, giving him the go ahead to take over.

haechan used his grip on your hips as leverage to continue thrusting into you, finally allowing himself to chase his own orgasm. his sharp and rough movement were sure as hell taking you along for the ride, finding yourself meeting his movements as you cried out in pleasure. haechan’s head came to rest in the nape of your neck, using it as a way to suppress his whines and groans.

as his movements became sloppier, you could tell that haechan was close. the feeling of you clenching around him was definitely helping that along. you felt your own release building up once again, hands coming to grip at haechan’s shoulders for leverage. nether of you were lasting much longer, and you were both perfectly fine with that.

haechan came first, groans morphing into whines, which morphed into a loud string of curses as he released inside of you. you continued to ride him, chasing after your own release. haechan let out whines of oversensitivity as you rode him to your own completion. you came with a loud moan, nails digging into his back, almost guaranteeing that there will be marks left there in the morning.

you let out a whine as you moved off of his cock, feeling his release leaking out of you. haechan shot off of the bed, racing to get a cloth for you to clean yourself up with. you let out a lazy laugh at his swiftness, thanking him for the cloth when he handed it over. haechan pulled you into his chest when he returned to the bed, wrapping his arms around you as you nuzzled into his chest.

“so… what now?” you asked, playing with his fingers.

“well, did i convince you that we should be together?”

“you haven’t even taken me on a date!” you exclaimed, looking up at him with a teasing look. haechan took a moment to think it over before he shot out of bed once again, reaching for where his boxers had landed. he slipped them on before reaching for his pants, you looking at him in confusion.

“what are you doing, i’m tired.”

“too bad. get up, we’re going on a date.” you shot up in the bed in shock, looking at him like he was crazy.

“now?!”

“i’ve waited for you long enough, we’re going out now.” you let out a scoff at his suggestion. you looked down at yourself, thighs covered in bruises that your skirt barely covers, said skirt being crumpled and creased from having two sets of hands gripping on to it. you didn’t even want to think about how your hair or makeup looked right now.

“i look like a mess!” you whined, slamming your hands down onto the mattress.

“i thought i made it clear to you that i’m into that.” haechan stated, wiggling his eyebrows at you. you let out an annoyed sigh. his insistence had worked, and you were giving in to his request.

“fine! just give me a second.” the second you attempted to walk away from his mattress your legs refused to comply, faltering and causing you to stumble back onto the mattress. haechan burst out laughing at your display, your cheeks blazing red at his reaction.

“holy shit! i mean, i knew i was good, but i didn’t know i was that good.” haechan joked, going around the room to pick up the various clothing items of yours that had been flung around during your activities.

“god, you’re annoying!” you complained as haechan began to help you back into your clothes. he even went so far as to help you slip your shoes back on, tying and zipping them up. you watched on with a soft smile on your lips, cherishing the romantic gesture. haechan looked up to catch you staring down at him with your love struck smile. he let out a small laugh, standing up slightly so that he was now face to face with you.

“don’t act like you would have it any other way.” haechan whispered against your lips before giving them a peck. you hated that he was right, but you couldn’t help but smiled at how well he could read you. he let you go and fix your hair and makeup quickly, watching you in the mirror of his bathroom as you did so.

once you were done, haechan outstretched his hand for you to grab. you took it gladly, being pulled into his embrace. his arm wrapped around your shoulders as he guided you out of his dorm room, going on about how he was going to give you the best post-sex date you’ve ever had. you don’t think that either of you had ever had one of those before, but you weren’t gonna correct him, simply looking forward to whatever he was pulling out of his ass as a last minute plan.

and at that moment you decided that maybe liking lee haechan wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

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mrsjellymunson · 2 days ago

Text

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

#the biology tutor #lesson 3 #human reproduction #eddie munson #Eddie munson x fem!reader #Eddie munson x fem!tutor!reader #virgin!eddie munson #Eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson x you #Eddie munson fanfic #Eddie munson fic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic

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amara-scott · 3 days ago

Text

Never been loved.

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Slytherin!female Reader Tags: Angst, Angst, Angst

Prompt: "You've never been loved, I can tell."

It would have been a beautiful spring day in the courtyard of hogwarts. But standing before Mattheo—you knew this was possibly a turning point about to happen. Your best friend. Having built that trusting relationship with him was hard. On both sides. But you stuck together and knew each other well.

But now the tension between you and Mattheo is thick, like a storm ready to break. You can feel it in the air, the unspoken words that hang between you both, electrifying the space. And yet, the weight of it all crashes down with the finality of your words, words that you didn't even realize held so much truth. "You've never been loved, I can tell." You don’t know why you said it, why the words slipped from your lips like a confession, an accusation. But the moment they leave your mouth, they settle over him like a shadow, dark and unavoidable.

You watch him, frozen, as his gaze falters, as if a part of him dies with your words. His shoulders drop, and for the briefest moment, he looks almost… human. Vulnerable. The walls he so carefully constructed around himself seem to crack, and for the first time, you see the weight he’s been carrying—the one he’s never let anyone see.

But Mattheo doesn’t speak. Not right away. His lips tremble, just slightly, as if the words he wants to say are too much to bear. His breathing is shallow, uneven. It’s a quiet sort of pain, the kind that threatens to swallow him whole, but he refuses to let it. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mutters, the harshness in his voice an attempt to mask the tremor you caught. His jaw clenches, his eyes narrow, but they can’t hide the flicker of something deep within them.

You wish you could take back the words, erase the hurt you’ve caused him, but you can't. The damage has been done, and now all you can do is watch him retreat behind that mask again.

“You don’t know me,” he snaps, cutting your thoughts off. The rawness in his tone pulls at your chest, makes your heart ache for him in a way you hadn’t expected. He’s breaking, but he won’t let you see it. His walls go back up, taller and colder than before, as he presses his lips together, trying to maintain control.

“You don’t know my name,” he continues, but it’s not the name he’s referring to. It’s something deeper, something that has been built over years of pressure, expectations, and burdens no one should ever bear.

You reach for him, words forming on your tongue, but they choke you as he takes a step back. The tears that threaten to spill seem to freeze in your throat. You want to apologize, to explain yourself, but the words are too heavy, the apology too fragile.

He shakes his head then, and you feel the weight of his emotions like a physical blow. “No,” he says, voice cracking. “You don’t have the right to talk about me. Talk about love. You don’t know anything about me.” His voice raises, and you flinch, a tiny part of you bracing for the anger that you know is coming. But then—then his eyes soften, and a single tear escapes, rolling down his cheek, tracing the path of all the years of grief he’s kept locked away.

The world tilts as you see that tear. It shatters everything you thought you knew about him. The bravado, the indifference—it all crumbles. He’s not invincible. He’s not the cold, untouchable boy he’s shown everyone.

You want to reach out, to take his face in your hands and promise him that it doesn’t have to be like this, but the fear that grips you—fear of what he’ll do, of what this moment will mean—paralyzes you.

When he speaks again, his voice is low, but it cuts through you like a knife. “I think it’s best if we part ways from now on.” The words hang in the air, and for a moment, everything goes still. The wind dies, the distant sounds of the castle fade. His voice is the only thing that matters now.

Before you can process what’s happening, he’s turning away from you, walking toward the castle with a speed that leaves you breathless, leaves you empty. You stand there, a hollow ache settling in your chest.

Your feet move before your mind catches up, and you grab his arm, forcing him to stop. “Mattheo, no—don’t say that.” But he doesn’t even look at you. His body stiffens, his hand brushes yours off as if it’s a weight he can’t bear.

“I’m only saying what you would expect of me. Your image of me is quite apparent. Since you know me so well.” His words are cruel, but they are truth. And it cuts deeper than anything he’s said before. You step back, your heart sinking with the realization that he’s right.

With one last glance over his shoulder, he’s gone, leaving you standing in the shadows of the evening, alone.

Days pass. You bury yourself in your studies, pretending like it doesn’t matter. You let the ache settle in your bones, telling yourself that you’re stronger than this, that you’re better off without him. But every time you close your eyes, you see him—his face, the way his eyes softened for the briefest moment before he pulled away from you, the tear that marked the end of everything.

Pansy finds you in the library, but even she can see the storm brewing inside you. She drags you out, forces you to confront what you’ve done, and somehow, you find yourself standing at the threshold of the common room, looking at Mattheo across the room.

You stand frozen at the entrance to the common room, your breath shallow, heart pounding. The noise around you seems to fade into a dull hum as you lock eyes with Mattheo. He’s sitting there, looking as casual as ever, but there’s something in his gaze that stops you cold—something colder than you’ve ever seen before. It’s like he’s trying to shut himself off from you, a wall rising in the space between you that feels miles wide.

Pansy’s grip on your sleeve is the only thing keeping you tethered to the present, but even her silent pressure on your arm doesn’t make your feet move. She knows what’s going on in your head, even if you’re too caught up in the chaos to say it.

Mattheo’s face remains unreadable as his eyes flicker between the fireplace and the others in the room, but the tension in the air is thick. You can’t tell if he’s angry, hurt, or simply indifferent—but the chill in his expression tells you enough. It’s the same kind of look he’s given you every time you’ve pulled away, each time you’ve said something wrong, like you’ve been a weight dragging him down.

“I think I should go,” you mutter to Pansy, your voice barely louder than a whisper. You can feel your hands trembling, the nervousness creeping up your spine.

Pansy doesn’t let go of your sleeve. Instead, she gently pulls you forward, her usual playful tone gone, replaced with a sharp, no-nonsense edge. “No. You’re not running away this time. Not from this.”

Your throat tightens, and for a moment, you feel like you might suffocate under the weight of it all—the fight, the guilt, the fear that he’ll never forgive you. But Pansy is already moving, leading you towards the fire where the others are seated. The firelight flickers in your eyes as you step forward, your body feeling heavy, like you’re walking through quicksand.

Mattheo doesn’t look up right away, but when he does, you feel the full force of his gaze. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t ask you how you’re doing or what you’ve been up to. It’s like the space between you has grown into something vast and impenetrable, and no words can bridge that gap. You wonder if that’s what you deserve after what you said, after what you did.

“You don’t have to do this,” Pansy says softly, but there’s a firmness beneath her words. “But if you don’t, you’ll never know if things could be fixed.”

You can’t breathe for a moment. Everything in you screams to just leave, to hide away again, but you know she’s right. You��ve never been good at facing what you’ve done. But if you leave now, you might lose him forever. And you can’t do that.

You stop in front of Mattheo, the words stuck in your throat. For a long moment, you don’t know where to start. It feels like you’ve already said everything you could say, yet nothing at all. But it’s different now. You’re standing here, staring at him, and for the first time in a long time, you’re not running.

"Can we- talk?" You don't hear your own words as you speak and hold your breath while you wait, still contemplating if you could make a run for it—but Pansy is right. Mattheo doesn't spare you a glance as he simply stands up and walks past you, toward a secluded corner in the common room, two armchairs next to each other, a dim lit candle and tall bookshelves rising to the ceiling. You join him as he sits, fiddling with my robe until you take a deep breath, finally looking up at him.

“I—I’m sorry.” The words feel like they’ve been stuck in your chest for so long. You swallow hard, voice cracking slightly. “I never meant to hurt you.”

He stares at you in silence, his jaw tightening, but there’s something there now—a flicker of recognition in his eyes, something that tells you he’s listening. Not because he has to, but because he wants to. You don’t know if that’s a good thing, but it’s a start.

“I know I fucked up. I don’t know what I was thinking, but I—” You pause, unsure of what to say next, your chest tightening with the weight of all the things you should have said before. “I care about you, Mattheo. More than I’ve ever cared about anyone.”

He doesn’t speak for a long while, and for a moment, it feels like the world has frozen around you both. But then, slowly, his lips part. His voice is low, almost like it’s coming from somewhere deep inside him, a place he’s been hiding for too long.

“You don’t have to keep apologizing.” His gaze is soft, almost vulnerable, and it shakes you to your core. “You don’t have to say anything you think I want to hear.”

“Then what do you want to hear?” you ask, almost desperately. “Because I don’t know how to fix this.”

“You don’t have to fix it. Just… be here. With me. No more walls.”

Your heart beats faster at his words. It’s not perfect, it’s not the answer you hoped for, but it’s something. Something you can work with.

And when he stands, taking a small step toward you, you feel the knot in your chest loosen just a little bit, so you stand as well. His arms, warm and familiar, slide around your shoulders, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you don’t feel so alone.

“Let’s not do this again,” he murmurs against your hair, pulling you close as you clutch his dress shirt, shutting your eyes tightly.

And you nod, knowing that no matter how long it takes, you’ll keep trying. You’ll keep showing up, even when the storm inside you feels too strong to bear.

For him. For you.

For what you both deserve.

#imagine #harry potter #slytherin boys #imagines #fanfiction #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader

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zinflo · 1 day ago

Note

Mha or jjk men (doesn’t matter who) reaction to their kids snapping at their mom

Whoever you are, thank very much for your request ♥︎ I decided to go with JJK instead of MHA since I haven’t released any work yet in relation to JJK. Hope you like it! — 🐉 𓂃🖊

IT’S THE DISRESPECT FOR ME ☞.ᐣ.ᐟ

FEATURING ᯓ★ SATORU GOJO, SUGURU GETO, CHOSO KAMO, KENTO NANAMI, RYŌMEN SUKUNA + TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS ᯓ★ Their reaction to their kid snapping at their mother (you ♥︎)

CONTENT ᯓ★ Parent!reader, sfw/fluff, mild language, petnames

⌞ SATORU GOJO ⌝

✄┈┈★ Gojo for sure is definitely ‘THE PROTECTIVE DAD.’

✄┈┈★ He’s usually the fun, carefree parent that lets his kids have a lot of freedom, but disrespecting their mother? Hell to the no.

✄┈┈★ The moment his kid raises their voice at you, his usual playful demeanour has gone down the drain in a heartbeat. He gives them a serious, piercing stare from behind his signature blindfold, and his voice drops a few notches.

✄┈┈★ “Woah, c’mon now. You’ve just gone from zero to one hundred.” His steps are slow until he’s finally stood right by your side but also in front of his child. “Change that tone because you don’t get to talk to your mum like that. Apologize. Now.”

✄┈┈★ If they continue to be stubborn and refuse to apologise, he kneels down to their level, still calm but firm, and asks them why they think it’s okay to act that way. Gojo wants his kid to reflect on their actions rather than just apologize for the sake of it.

✄┈┈★ Once the situation cools down, he makes sure to remind them how much you do for them. “Your mum is hardworkin’, amazin’ and is the main reason why you even get to live like a little prince/princess. Show some respect.”

✄┈┈★ Later, he’ll go back to being his usual goofy self where he wraps his arms around your waist, his soft lips brushing against your ear. “Don’t mind them, you’re still a great mum to them, sweetheart. Just give them some time, that's all.”

⌞ SUGURU GETO ⌝

✄┈┈★ Honestly? Geto just screams ‘THE WISE DAD.’

✄┈┈★ His ideology when it comes to parenting consists of being gentle yet firm discipline and doesn’t tolerate disrespect towards you. There’s simply no arguing about it.

✄┈┈★ So the moment he hears his child snap at you, his expression darkens. “Excuse me? I know damn well I’m not going deaf. So prove me wrong and try saying that again, but with respect this time.”

✄┈┈★ If they talk back, he gives them a calm but chilling stare that immediately makes them regret it. He’s not one to raise his voice—his disappointment is enough to make them feel guilty. This man is appalled, he does and I mean DOES NOT want his child to grow up acting like those monkeys with no manners or respect.

✄┈┈★ If the child is still stubborn, he removes privileges—no going out to hang with friends, no social media, until they apologize and genuinely understand their mistake.

✄┈┈★ After everything is settled, he always makes sure to reassure them with a hug but reminds them: “Respect goes both ways. You give it, you get it.”

✄┈┈★ As you both watch them walk away to their bedroom to sulk away, Geto grabs your chin in a firm grip before planting a soft peck on your forehead. “God, I love you dear but I think maybe you should give my parentin’ style a go. It’ll teach them to know their place, hm?”

⌞ CHOSO KAMO ⌝

✄┈┈★ The family oriented guy is 100% ‘THE GENTLE DAD.’

✄┈┈★ Choso rarely gets angry, but when he does, it’s serious.

✄┈┈★ The moment he hears his child snap at you, his protective instincts kick in, and he immediately steps in between you and the child. “That’s not how we talk to our mother.” His voice is low but firm.

✄┈┈★ If the child argues, he stares them down silently—his disappointed expression is worse than being yelled at.

✄┈┈★ He believes in talking things out, so he kneels and asks, “Why are you upset? Tell me, so we can fix this together.” He wants them to understand that frustration doesn’t justify rudeness.

✄┈┈★ He won’t force an immediate apology, but he will expect them to reflect and apologize on their own. If they don’t, he withholds affection—no cuddles, no high fives/fist pumps or no warm interactions until they understand.

✄┈┈★ Once they do apologize, he pulls them into a long hug and tells them, “We respect each other in this family. Especially your mother.”

✄┈┈★ While the child is in Choso’s embrace, Choso looks up and meets your eyes. He winks and his lips curl upwards before mouthing, “love you, angel.”

⌞ KENTO NANAMI ⌝

✄┈┈★ Strict? For sure ‘THE AUTHORITATIVE DAD.’

✄┈┈★ Nanami rarely raises his voice, but he’s for damn sure not letting disrespect slide when it comes to you.

✄┈┈★ The moment the child snaps, he immediately calls them out in a stern but controlled tone. “Enough! That is no way to be speakin’ to your mother like that.”

✄┈┈★ If the child continues, he simply says, “Go to your room. Now. We will talk when you are calm.” He refuses to entertain arguments in the heat of the moment.

✄┈┈★ Once they’ve cooled down, he sits them down and gets down to business, “Disagreements happen, but respect should never be lost. Your mother loves you and works hard for you. Don’t think you can speak to her how ever you like because I won’t allow it.”

✄┈┈★ He expects a proper apology, not just a mumbled “sorry.” If they don’t mean it, he waits patiently until they do.

✄┈┈★ Afterwards, he makes sure they understand that family is built on mutual respect, and he reassures them with a firm but comforting pat on the head.

✄┈┈★ Once he leaves the child alone in their bedroom to reflect on their actions, he’s met with you leaning your head against the wall so you can listen in on their conversation. A smirk crept up his face as he cupped your cheeks with his hands and locked eyes with you. “I’m sorry about before, honey. You’re perfect with everything you do, even if your way of parenting is more lenient than mine.”

⌞ RYŌMEN SUKUNA ⌝

✄┈┈★ Yeah… let’s all back away from ‘THE RUTHLESS DAD.’

✄┈┈★ Because that child is literally cooked. Without negotiation, the King of Curses expects obedience and respect so he’s pissed the moment he hears the disrespect.

✄┈┈★ His rage is instant. His sharp eyes glare down at the child all the while one of his beefy hands has hooked itself around the child’s shirt and lifted them off the ground so they’re now eye level to him. “What the hell did you just say, you brat? I know damn well you’re not talkin’ to your mother with that damn mouth of yours.” His voice alone is enough to make them regret it.

✄┈┈★ when I said that child was cooked from the beginning—I meant it. He doesn’t give warnings—his child is immediately disciplined and does not give a damn. Depending on the severity, it could be a timeout, harsh scolding, or taking away privileges. “If you go low, I’ll go lower. Two can play at that game, you ungrateful brat.”

✄┈┈★ He doesn’t tolerate disobedience. If the kid refuses to apologize, he stares them down with his four eyes in pure silence, letting the tension build and the child certainly shaking since his true form is already intimidating as it is.

✄┈┈★ “You think you can talk to my wife like that? Know your place under this household because you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for her.” He makes sure they understand that you come first.

✄┈┈★ Once the child apologises to you, he doesn’t get all warm and sweet. His only response is a curt, “Good. Don’t do it again.”

✄┈┈★ However, he secretly keeps an eye on them afterward to make sure they truly understand the lesson. He then turns to you, looking you up and down to see if you’re mentally doing okay before ruffling your hair and rolling his eyes. “Tch, I’m not surprised that annoyin’ brat got disrespectful towards you. You’re too damn soft for your own kind, darling.”

⌞ TOji FUSHIGURO ⌝

✄┈┈★ Toji don’t play, he’s ‘THE STRAIGHTFORWARD DAD.’

✄┈┈★ No ifs or buts, there’s simply no valid explanation for why his kid thinks it is okay to snap at you and would be out of his damn mind to even allow it to happen.

✄┈┈★ The second he hears the kid snap, he’s already standing up by your side. “You’ve got a damn loose mouth, huh?” His voice is sharp, and the atmosphere immediately shifts.

✄┈┈★ He doesn’t yell, but the intensity of his presence is enough to make the kid freeze in their stop. His eyes narrow, and his tone is cold. “Cat got your tongue, hm? Try again. Nicely.”

✄┈┈★ If they don’t apologize, he crosses his arms and waits in silence—because he knows his patience alone is terrifying.

✄┈┈★ He’ll tell them straight up: “Your mum is the only reason why you have a roof over your head and eating three meals a day. You wanna act like spoiled kid? Then you can handle things yourself.”

✄┈┈★ Toji enforces consequences immediately—no dinner, extra chores, something to occupy their mind and realize their mistake.

✄┈┈★ Later, once they’ve apologized, he ruffles their hair roughly and mutters, “Don’t let me catch you doin’ that again. I mean it.” He won’t be overly affectionate, but his point is made.

✄┈┈★ His expression changes when he looks towards you, grasping your hand to pull you closer to his broad chest and gently pecking your cheek before saying, “Stand your ground, baby. And show them next time who’s boss around this house.”

My inbox is open so feel free to send me any requests or thoughts ✰ — 🐉 𓂃🖊

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sab0dssey · 1 day ago

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NewlyDad!Simon who is completely lost in panic and joy. When he first found out you were pregnant, right after he returned from a mission, it hit him like a wave. He was over the moon, but also overwhelmed. Simon had never been a man with many words; he was always terse, practical, and to the point. But this news? It was different. The moment he learned, his entire world shifted. His usually steady hands trembled as he looked at you, his eyes wide with disbelief and awe.

For a moment, he just stared, not knowing what to say, his mind racing. Then, before either of you could react, he pulled you into him—his arms wrapping around you so tightly, it was as if he never wanted to let go. His head buried itself in your neck, as though it was the only place he could find any grounding. It was so quiet between you both, just the sound of his breaths and the weight of the moment hanging in the air.

He stayed like that for what felt like eternity, unwilling to move. You could feel the warmth of his tears against your skin, but he didn’t pull away, didn’t make a sound. He knew you could feel the silent sobs, the emotion he didn’t want to let out in front of you, but he also knew you understood. He didn’t want you to see him like this—vulnerable and unsure. Not yet. But still, he couldn’t bring himself to let go, not even for a second.

NewlyDad!Simon never lets you do anything on your own. Never. You’re reaching for the remote, and it’s just a foot away? Don’t bother standing up—he’s already got it. You’re thinking about cooking? Forget it. He won’t let you. He’ll either cook for you himself or order your favorite meal—just so you don’t have to lift a finger.

NewlyDad!Simon is like a clingy little puppy—he just can’t keep his hands to himself. At home, he’s glued to you, constantly cuddling, wrapping himself around you like a human blanket. Outside, his hands always find their way to you—resting on your baby bump, the small of your back, or your waist. He just can’t help it.

Even when you’re relaxing in the tub, basking in the candlelit warmth, Simon refuses to let you have a moment alone. He pulls up a chair beside the tub, work files in hand, pretending to focus—but his hands betray him. One moment, they’re on your bump, the next, tracing lazy circles over your shoulder. He’s not letting go anytime soon. Not now, not ever

NewlyDad!Simon who loves to talk with his baby. His hands, large and gentle, find their way to your growing belly with a tenderness that surprises even him.

Every chance he gets, whether it’s in the quiet moments of the day or just before sleep, his hand rests there, as if the touch itself is a promise. He caresses your belly, his fingers lightly tracing the curve, his palm pressed against you like he’s trying to connect with the tiny life growing inside. It’s almost as though he can feel every tiny movement, even when it’s just a flutter.

He talks to the baby—quiet, low words that are almost a whisper, but they carry so much weight. His voice softens every time he speaks, and it’s a tone you’ve never heard before, one filled with a raw love that only a father could express. “Hey, little one,” he murmurs, his fingers rubbing slow circles against your skin, “can’t wait to see you, to hold you in my arms.” His eyes never leave your belly, his expression a mixture of awe and tenderness.

When he thinks you’re not looking, his lips brush against the top of your stomach, a soft kiss meant only for the baby. “I’ll protect you,” he says quietly, the words meant for both of you but carrying an unspoken promise to the child. “Daddy’s gonna make sure you’re safe, always.”

His hand stays there, lingering, as if he’s trying to convey everything he feels through the simple act of touching. Sometimes, he talks to the baby about what he hopes for their future—what he dreams they’ll be, but more often, it’s about how much he already loves them. How proud he is.

No matter where you are, he finds the time to remind you both of that, as if the baby can hear every word, every heartbeat, every promise. And each time he touches your belly, he’s not just caressing you—he’s speaking directly to the child, forming a bond that’s already so deep.

NewlyDad!Simon who had never been one for big gatherings or being the center of attention, but tonight, he was doing it—for you, and for the baby.

His teammates had insisted, as had your friends, that you both needed to get out. A little normalcy, they said. A dinner with the people who supported him through everything. But Simon? He was already on high alert the moment you stepped out the door. His hand was constantly on your back, gently guiding you, his eyes scanning the room, always aware of your every movement.

The restaurant was bustling, a little louder than usual, but Simon barely seemed to notice the chatter around him. His attention was split between you and the people he trusted—his team. His arm would sometimes drift to your waist, his fingers brushing against your bump, as if to reassure himself that everything was okay. He didn’t let you stray far, always within arm’s reach, his protective nature wrapped around you like a shield.

At the table, he was engaged, nodding along to conversations, but his focus was never fully on the group. When someone leaned in a little too close, his eyes would flicker to them, silently warning them to keep their distance. When Soap tried to crack a joke about fatherhood, Simon’s lips twitched upward in a brief smile, but the moment the laughter died down, his hand found its way to your stomach, his thumb brushing over it lightly.

He’d occasionally glance over at you, catching your eye, as if asking silently if you were okay, if you needed anything. He knew you could take care of yourself, but tonight? Tonight, he wasn’t letting his guard down for a second.

When dinner came, Simon was the first to help you with your plate, carefully cutting your food or offering you bites from his own. He made sure you were comfortable, always attentive, his eyes never straying too far from you. He wasn’t one to show weakness, but with you? And with the baby? His vulnerability showed in the way he constantly checked in, in the way he’d rather have his hand on your bump than anywhere else.

His teammates had known him as a man of few words, but tonight, they were learning a different side of Simon—one who would move mountains to keep his family safe and happy, even in a simple dinner setting. They could see it in the way he watched over you, in the little touches he gave you when he thought no one was looking. He may have been the strong, silent type to everyone else, but to you and the baby? He was all heart.

As the night wound down, Simon was already thinking about how soon he could get you home, make sure you were settled and safe. He never stopped being the protective husband, never stopped being the father-to-be, and he certainly never stopped being the man who would give up everything to keep you both safe.

#I’m in love.#simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #task force 141 #sab0dssey #simon ghost fluff #simon ghost x reader #task force x reader

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happypopcornprincess · 1 day ago

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Chapter 1 || I Can See You

Pairings - Joaquin Torres X fem!Reader

Premise - At a glamorous gala, Y/N's life intertwines with Joaquin's. A pact ensues, while a dangerous mission looms.

Word Count - 2.8K

Warnings: SMUT, Angst, Mentions of blood, domestic violence

a/n - This story is based between the events of Endgame and Brave New World. In this AU, Tony Stark survived and the New characters of the MCU are on the way to be the new recruits of the Avengers. Hope you guys like this <3

Series Masterlist

Avengers Compound, Post Endgame

If it wasn’t for Pepper to quite literally threaten you to attend her Annual Charity Gala, you wouldn’t even be here. The atmosphere around you was straight out of some high society drama. The grey walls of the newly reconstructed avengers compound were covered in silver tones, a huge silver chandelier hanging in the middle of the hall, there was laughter in the air, and everyone was dressed to the nines.

Just how a party was supposed to be… when the host was the one and only Pepper Potts. Tony was there too, even though his hand was still recovering from the snap, but he was cheery and loud as always.

You sipped your champagne in silence, standing far away from the dance floor.

You were chosen by Sam from MIT to help the Avengers. You had trained with the new recruits, Kate, Peter… They were good kids. Training with them was… well, it was something. Sam was great, and helped you all adjust. Honestly, the Avengers? They were intimidating. superhuman intimidating. But you had your strengths. Sharpshooting was always your thing. And you threw yourself into the training, every single bit of it. They told you it was for intel missions, to keep you out of direct harm's way. But that wasn't enough. You wanted more. Because you were not aiming for 'safe.'

You were aiming to be an Avenger.

Your job was to figure out how Kingpin just vanished into thin air after Christmas. The task has taken over your daily routine after you met Kate Bishop. It’s been months of interviewing eyewitnesses, going on the streets undercover, nights of no sleep with a shit ton of coffee, and just when you think you’re about to solve it… you meet a dead end.

“Trying to hide behind the curtains again are we y/n?” Bucky’s voice made you look to your right, and there he was. Standing next to you wearing a sharp three-piece black suit, his hair slicked back.

You finally understood what Steve meant when he would say girls back then would throw themselves at Bucky.

He turned to you in disgust, “Are you checking me out?”

“You wish, asshole.” You mutter in your glass.

You and Bucky had developed an unlikely friendship after the blip bought him back. He was pardoned, and moved into a quaint apartment complex deep in the city, unknown to the fact that you lived right next to his place.

On a stormy night after the nightmares won’t let you both sleep, sharing one bottle of whiskey between you was all it took for you to spill your life to him. You have turned into each other’s best friends and occasional love life advisor, although it was kind of a package deal.

Which is why you knew the reason he was so dressed up for the first time since you met.

“You see Sam anywhere?” he asks you nonchalantly.

You give him a sly smirk, “Why? Can’t wait to shove your tongue down his throat?”

Bucky gives you a sideward glance, and goes back to looking at the crowd.

He was still figuring out his feelings towards both men and women, especially towards one man.

Returning from the Flag Smashers situation, he would not shut up how ‘annoying’ and ‘frustratingly righteous’ Sam Wilson is, how his smirk makes him want to ‘strangle’ him.

You asked him one evening if he was having a ‘full-on-bi-panic’ and he threw a pillow at your face.

“y/n! there you are!” Sam bellows as he walks towards the two of you, wearing a crisp grey suit over a white button up, looking as dapper as always.

“Sam!” you laugh, giving him a tight hug. He was your mentor, someone you looked up to. And hopefully your bestie’s future boyfriend.

“You look absolutely gorgeous!” he threw you one of his classic smiles as he retreated.

You look down to the pastel pink knee length dress you were wearing.

Hustling the life of an avenger straight out of MIT, it was the only dress you owned. And after paying for it out of your own pocket you realize fancy dresses cost a hand and a leg, and you refuse to part from it.

“Thank you Sam I-” you were about to thank him but stopped once you noticed him absolutely gawking at Bucky.

“Hey Bucky.” He smiled.

“Hey Sam.” Bucky gave him a nod.

You almost roll your eyes at the exchange, wondering when they will move on from the weird talking phase.

“Hello.”

An angelic voice interrupted your train of thoughts. Looking away your eyes meet a pair of the warmest brown eyes. He was standing behind Sam. A tall, tan-skinned man, wearing a crisp black suit stood in front of you. His curls fell on his forehead, and his smile was intoxicating.

He looked like a high surf tide; calling out for you to test the waters.

You extend your right hand, smiling at him. “Hey, I’m y/n”

He held it with his right, it made your heart race when he brought your hand up to his lips and kissed your knuckles, his hands warm and his lips soft, sending a jolt through your body.

Oh, he’s mischief alright!

You were left speechless when he straightened, a smirk thrown out your way as Sam spoke up, “This is the guy I told y’all about! Lt. Joaquin Torres.” He slapped a hand on Joaquin’s back, smiling with pride.

“And this is y/n y/l/n, fresh transfer from MIT. She’s our tech genius, and a walking journal on film recommendations.”

Laughter followed as your eyes couldn’t help but stay trained on Joaquin. Thinking back on the time when Sam told the team about the new Falcon joining them after a while, you somehow manage to speak up at that moment, “Welcome to the circus.” You take a deliberately long sip of your float, never breaking eye contact.

He gulped nervously, eyes wide, clearly startled by you flirting.

“You haven’t had a drink yet Lieutenant? Let’s get you something.” you smile involuntarily.

He stands back for you to lead the way, “Sure. And it’s just Joaquin, please.” he laughs just after, his honey laced voice paired with your tad bit hazy mind doing wonders to your imagination.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/--/-

They keep watchful eyes on us So it's best that we move fast and keep quiet You won't believe half the things I see inside my head Wait 'til you see half the things that haven’t happened yet

“Wait a minute…” you smiled, “you cannot possibly think Love Actually is better than The Holiday?”

“It’s the perfect rom com!” Joaquin laughs, “it covered basically every rom com trope under the sun.”

“But, listen to me, but…” you say, your slightly tipsy self leaning on the wall behind you, as Joaquin stood in front of you, holding his own glass of whiskey, “Quantity never matters in front of quality. All characters in The Holiday are well written with meaningful backgrounds and great character redemption arcs. And it’s got Jude Law.”

Joaquin raises his hands, “Jude Law.”

“Jude Law.” you laugh, at how he was mocking a defeated pose.

“When Sam told me I can’t lose a movie debate with you, I couldn’t believe him.”

You try to curtsey, “thank you.”

“Wanna get out of here?” Joaquin blurted out abruptly.

It took you a while to gain your consciousness, and a laugh left your lips at what he just said. You saw his eyes traveling to your lips, and how his breath fastened as you took a deliberately long sip of your drink.

You smirked, “sure.”

—/—/—

You find yourself sneaking through the backdoor and upstairs towards the living quarters of the Avengers compound as you drag Joaquin by his coat as you slip into an unassigned room. The furniture was still uncovered, but there was a couch in a corner right next to the opened windows where moonlight pooled in.

Perfect.

The alcohol surging through your system gives you newfound courage, and seconds later Joaquin was being thrown on the couch by you. His pupils dilated, his gaze trained on you and his scent lingering in the air, you straddled him without hesitation.

“Are you good?” His breathy voice went straight to your core, and without a word you crashed your lips on his.

He’s gonna be the death of me.

The taste of expensive champagne hit your mouth, Joaquin’s tongue slipping in your mouth sliding in with fervor. Your gasp is swallowed by his lips, his hands travelling south towards the zipper of your dress.

Your hands fumble with his coat, taking it off of him and raising his shirt just enough to slide your hands underneath. Warm, toned muscles met your hands, and the way he sucked your lips made you forget everything. You couldn’t breathe, but couldn’t move away from him either, entirely lost in taking him in.

Joaquin jerked back all of a sudden, making you whine.

“Wait, wait…” He breathed out, his breath cooling your skin.

“Just kiss me.” You exhaled, grabbing his tie to pull him in, but he leaned back.

Joaquin gently held your wrists, “y/n… hey, look at me,” he breathlessly said, “look at me for a second.”

You do, at his messy hair, puffy lips, and blown out pupils.

He holds out his hand, “how many fingers am I holding up.”

You scrunch your brows in confusion, eyes drifting to his fingers in front of your face. You get the tunnel vision every time you’ve had a bit too much whiskey, you see double.

Concentrating hard on your answer, you slur out, “four?”

Joaquin closes his eyes, looking up and huffing out a breath, “you’re very drunk.” You feel his hands on your waist, and he carefully sits you down on the couch next to him.

You whine at the loss of his touch as he gets up from the couch. He returns a minute later with a bottle of water, sitting next to you and making you drink the entire thing.

“Can we go back to the part where you kiss me until I forget my name?” you breathe out.

Joaquin laughs out, settling down next to you and leaning back on the couch. You straighten your dress, and sit with your shoulders touching. You steal a glance his way.

His coat was gone, his tie hung loose on his neck, his white button shirt straining on his arms…

Someone works out…

The faint moonlight hitting from behind him made the outline of the veins on his neck visible.

I want to lick it...

You scrunch your eyes as soon as you hear that inside your head.

Wow, he’s right, I am drunk.

“As much as I’d like to do that,” he looks your way, “I can’t. You’re very drunk.”

A smile itches on your face, and you ask, “so what should we do then?”

“Talk?” he suggests, turning to you, resting his head on the backrest and looking you right in your eyes. “I know nothing about you. You know nothing about me. Let’s talk.”

You laugh out loud, “okay,” the smile refusing to leave your face, “what do you want to know?”

“Anything.” he says with a warm smile on his face.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

You wake up in an unfamiliar room and a blinding headache, on a mattress too soft for your liking, the sunlight hitting your face with full force.

Grunting, you sit up, rubbing your forehead.

Something slips off your body, and you look down and find someone has covered you with a black suit coat while you slept.

The man with the warm eyes and gentle touch.

You laugh, rubbing your head at the absurdity of the situation.

You wear it over your dress and walk out of the room, after last night’s party everybody would be sleeping in. You can sneak out unnoticed.

You swiftly call an uber, and shove your hands inside the pockets of Joaquin’s coat.

The feel of rough paper makes you stop in your tracks, you take it out of the pocket to see a torn piece of labeling paper inside, a note greeting you.

9546-555-6783 See you soon, I guess? (Take care of my coat till then? It’s my favorite suit.) - Joaquin

-/-/-/-/-/-

You brush past me in the hallway And you don't think I, I, I can see ya, do ya? I’ve been watchin' you for ages And I spend my time tryin' not to feel it

Joaquin joined the team a week later. He chose to stay on the compound, and soon blended in with the new avengers. Peter and Kate grew especially fond of him. When Shang-Chi joined the ranks, he, too, was welcomed into your close-knit circle.

You spared during training, made breakfast together, had constant debates on cinema and stories. He loved the classics, and you had a nick for science fiction. You should have cancelled out each other, but your differences only made your bond stronger. The differences weren't a barrier; they were a bridge. You shared tech skills learned during your time at MIT, revealing the details of coding and circuits. In return, he shared practical knowledge from his air force background; survival techniques and tactical strategies.

Your apartment, though smaller than the compound's common areas, became the gathering spot for your group. Lazy weekends of your teams were spent at your place, you'd watch old movies, host game nights, and then collapse on any available surface.

Peter had a habit of entering your apartment through your window, and Kate never got used to it. Takeout was a foreign concept with your friends. Instead, Shang-Chi and Joaquin would take over the kitchen, making a mouth watering combination of asian food and mexican food, that could best possibly win them masterchef if they ever could.

These people, this band of young individuals navigating life… they became your chosen family. They were your support system, your confidantes, your partners in crime.

No one seemed to notice the stolen glances, the lingering touches, the quiet conversations that stretched late into the night. Or perhaps they did notice, and simply didn't care.

-/-/-/-/-/-

But what would you do if I went to touch you now? What would you do if they never found us out? What would you do if we never made a sound?

Clouds grumbled above, as angry raindrops splattered on your apartment window. You were sitting on your couch with three devices settled in front of you: a laptop and two tablets running algorithms and analytics for locating kingpin. Kate had gathered intel that he still had someone in the states giving him updates and keeping him safe. But where?

That was a question you were determined to get answers to. Which is why you had made it your mission to get to the base of this.

Amidst the thunderous rain outside, you hear a knock on the door, and from the corner of your eye you witness Joaquin enter, carrying takeout containers.

“You’ll have to use the fork for the noodles, I just ran out of chopsticks!” you shout, without even looking at his direction.

“Y/n” Joaquin huffed out in frustration, “please tell me you didn’t ‘sense’ Thai food from me.”

“I did.” you laugh, looking at the bewildered Joaquin standing in your kitchen. He had jeans and a sleeveless gym shirt on. Involuntarily your eyes went to his toned arms, and you did a quick diversion of your thoughts to the TV.

”I come bearing sustenance. Chow Mein and Thai green curry, extra spicy, just how you like it.” he says, followed by the scrunching of the takeout container.

You sit up straighter with a smile itching on your lips, your favorite food just when you were low on inspiration. “You're a lifesaver, these logistics are killing me.”

Joaquin sets the containers on the coffee table. He sits next to you, close enough that your thighs brush. He huffs out, “Tell me about it. Sam's been drilling us on contingency plans all day. I swear, he's got a backup plan for the backup plan.”

You laugh, “That's Sam for you. Always prepared.”

You open the containers, the aroma of the curry filling the room, and digging into the food in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

“You got something on your…” Joaquin speaks, and you look at him with a particularly big bite in your mouth.

“Hmm?” you mutter.”

He reaches out and gently wipes a bit of sauce from the corner of your mouth. The gesture is intimate, lingering a moment too long. If you don’t count your sparring training, this was the closest you had been since ‘that’ night at the charity gala. Your hands grab his arm on their own.

It feels… good. Too good. It's been so long since anyone touched you like this. Desired you. Like you mattered. Like you weren't just… a disappointment. You… you want this. You want him.

But what if you mess it up? What if you push him away, like you did with…

Your heart almost leapt out of your chest as he gently cupped your face in his hands, your gaze locked on his warm brown eyes. He leaned in towards your lips, a silent question in his expression. You paused, a flicker of hesitation crossing your face, and gently pulled back.

He too leaned back, respecting your space. The tension remained, but now it carried a hint of gentle inquiry.

Looking down, you fidgeted with your hands, "It's not that I don't… I just… we need to be sure about this." You huffed out in frustration, trying to articulate your tangled thoughts.

"I want you," he stated, his voice low and sincere. You looked up at him instantly, his pupils dilated, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths. "I want you in ways you can't imagine, y/n. And I will walk out of here right now if you don't want this. We can forget this ever happened."

Thunder roared in the skies above, and lightning illuminated his face through the window as he paused, his expression open and honest. "But," he gulped, his eyes searching yours, "if you do want this… then…"

He left the rest unsaid, giving you the space to make your own choice.

Your internal conflict finally tipped towards action.

Oh, fuck this…

His words were lost as soon as you crashed your lips on his.

—/—/—

You stumbled into your room, Joaquin’s lips didn’t leave yours as he threw the two of you on the bed. Pulling you under him, his hands were everywhere. Your mind could only catch up with a few, as it was too busy taking in all of him.

Joaquin made you feel like your entire body was on fire. Your hands flew straight to his hair, a moan leaving his lips. You did quick work on his clothes, leaving him in his boxers as he got busy removing yours.

No words were exchanged as he moved low, kissing and sucking your skin in all the places that made your vision hazy. You could only whine and gasp as he grabbed your legs and rested them on his shoulders.

And then he stopped.

You look down to see a mischievous grin plastered on his face, his pupils blown wide.

“Joaquin…” you breathe out, “stop teasing me.”

His eyes darken as he let out a low murmur against your skin and without warning dived in, a loud moan leaving your lips as pleasure rushed through your body.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

And I could see you being my addiction You can see me as a secret mission

“So… what is this?” you ask, lying next to him covered in sweat, panting. You rolled away next to him, completely exhausted from your acts that lasted three blissful hours.

“You’re asking this now?” he mutters, eyes fixed at the ceiling. “I’m pretty sure fraternizing between teammates is not allowed here.” He groans.

You close your eyes, trying to think about if that rule existed among the Avengers. As far as you knew nobody was involved with each other here. “We can be friends.” You suggest.

“What!” you feel the mattress shift and open your eyes to him leaning over you.

“No, just… think about it.” You shift to lean on the headboard, gathering the sheets to cover your chest, “you’re new to the team.”

Joaquin takes a pillow to cover himself and sits cross-legged in front of you, “okay.”

You stop for a second, staring at his abs.

Y/n stop it! Focus!

“We can’t just go ahead and announce that we’re sleeping together, or dating. They will never let us live this down. Especially Bucky. And Kate. Maybe Sam…” You state, matter of factly.

“Wait, wait! Stop!” he gestures, eyebrows scrunched, “You want to date me?”

“No! I don’t like you like that!” almost scream out, “do you wanna date me?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Then I don’t see a problem with… this!” You throw out your hands.

“What is this exactly?” Joaquin pointed between you two.

You groan, “ugh, you’re as thick as it gets!” You adjust the sheets around your body to free your hands, “what did you think of me the first time you saw me?”

“At the gala? Huh…” he thinks, “That you have the prettiest smile.” he shocks you with the last part, but then he adds on, “also you looked hot in that pink dress.”

There we go.

“Well, I thought you had a great voice, and your eyes were really pretty.” You truthfully admit, “also you looked like trouble… and I have a thing for bad boys.”

“I’m twenty-five.”

“Whatever.”

“You swear you don’t want anything other than sex with me?” he asks you.

You nod, “Yeah. You?”

“I don’t.”

“Okay.”

“Okay!”

Joaquin gets up from his place, picking up his boxers and putting them on, “So just to be clear… we’re friends.”

“Yep!” you catch your sweatshirt that he throws your way.

He puts on his shirt next, “With benefits.”

“Absolutely.” You say, debating whether you should get up the bed or not, exhaustion rolling over your senses.

“And you promise you won’t fall in love with me.” He points to you.

“Oh please, if anything you’ll be falling first.” You say through a yawn.

Joaquin laughs putting on his pants, “well, I’m gonna go get something to eat. You want something?”

“Do you mind if I take a nap? I’m tired.” You grimace.

He smiles at you, “Go ahead.”

You fall back on the bed, as you hear his footsteps going away… the sweet embrace of sleep following you next.

—/—/—

Few weeks later

Your place or mine?

Your screen lit up with the message from Joaquin. You smirked

Yours? In an hour? You press send, and let out a laugh as you see the blue tick instantly.

Done.

Before you could ask him the reason he got so worked up, you hear F.R.I.D.A.Y’s automated voice - Scan. Complete.

A low hum filled the operations center as you meticulously analyzed the fragmented data streams scanned by F.R.I.D.A.Y. Dozens of photographs presented infront of you but your eyes instantly locked in on one in particular. Your focus narrowed on a grainy image emerging from the static.

Broad shoulders, crisply pressed suit, gold rings on the fingers… could it be…

“Y/n!” Kate and Peter shout in unison as you slapped a stack of files on the kitchen table. Sam, Bucky, Shang Chi, Joaquin, all who were just about to eat, whipped their heads towards the commotion.

“I think I've found him,” you announced, pointing to the figure.

Sam and Bucky shared a look, and rushed towards you as you opened up a holographic display on your tab. Joaquin and you share a look, he was amused, a small smile on his face letting you know he was excited for what you found out, you smirked and quickly look away trying to focus on the scene infront of you.

“All this time I was searching for him here… but…” Cross-referencing facial recognition, thermal readings, and satellite data, you enlarged a section of the display, revealing a stark desert landscape. “The terrain, the temperature… it all points to one place... Mexico.”

A collective sense of surprise filled the room.

'Mexico?' Peter questioned, 'What's he doing down there?'

You zoomed in on a satellite image, enhanced thermal readings revealing a network of hidden structures. 'I don’t know, but he's planning something,' you stated, a sense of urgency creeping into your voice. 'Something big.' The implications hung heavy in the air.

“This changes everything.” You nodded, your gaze fixed on the display. 'We need to move fast.”

To Be Continued...

A/N - Thank you everyone for sticking with me till the end of this fic! if you liked it please let me know through the asks and the comments. Next Chapter will be up soon... Love y'all, Take Care!

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roc-haze · 2 days ago

Text

Cry To Me | WillNE

You weren’t too sure how you’d ended up in a dingy pub on a Thursday evening, but the second Arthur Hill had figured out you had an upcoming long weekend, you were done for.

“Oh come on, Y/N! We’re going out for a few quiet pints.” He had said, sitting on your sofa a few days before.

“Who’s we, Arthur?” You had pried, eyebrow slightly quirked.

“Well me, obviously. Clarkey, TV, Chris, Becky, Chip and Sabina.” He rattled off friends, thinking out loud to see who had he forgotten. “Pretty sure that’s everyone… oh wait, Will! Will Lenney.”

Your cheeks flushed. Will didn’t often come out with the group, choosing to strategically avoid the filming of pub golf and platform roulette. Basically any event in which cameras could catch him being embarrassingly drunk. Arthur had asked him, only to be met with disappointment.

Out of all the YouTube crew, Will had always caught your eye. You both tended to sit back and enjoy the chaos of everyone hanging out together, opting for meaningful conversation where possible. You swiped up on each other’s stories, often texted songs through to each other and Will was a regular commenter on your Strava account. I heard you run faster if you listen to AC/DC.

“Oh that’s right, I forget you have a bit of a hard on for him.” Arthur teased, laughing as the red flush spread across your cheeks.

“Fuck off, Arthur!” You laughed. “You’ve come into my flat, drank all my coffee and now you’re taking the piss out of me.”

“Yeah, what are friends for?” Cheeky grin on his face, Arthur dodged the onslaught of cushions thrown at his face.

So, here you were.

Becky and Sabina had naturally gravitated towards you, occupying the end of the table. You were a few wines in when Sab had pulled out her phone, eager to share her camera roll.

“You would think that Josh and Freezy are engaged, the way they are glued to each other.” Sabina laughed, showing the two of you photos from The Fellas Podcast shoot earlier that week.

“Remember that TikTok trend? The best friend Steve one?” You asked in between giggles.

“Yes! The ‘it’s just me and you and your friend Steve’ one! These two idiots would be perfect for that!” Becky was in stitches, scrolling through Sab’s photo gallery.

“What are we laughing at, ladies?” You had heard him before you laid eyes on him. Turning your head, the tall Geordie man was stood behind you with a grin on his face.

“Will, you have to see this!” Sab turned her phone screen around for him to see.

She was met with a loud, hearty laugh. “That’s almost romantic, innit!”. Will politely made small talk with Sabina and Becky, his eyes barely leaving your face as you enthusiastically listened to your girlfriends.

“Would any of you like a top up? I’m headed up to get a drink?” He asked, met with polite declines. He placed a hand on your shoulder, meeting your gaze. “I’m glad you’re here. I was hoping you would be.” And with that, he had made his way up to the bar, hugging his friends as he went.

You lightly run your hand over your shoulder, a sudden warmth making its way up your neck and to your cheeks.

Becky caught the gesture, smirking at you. “Babe, come on. You better jump his bones soon.” You laughed her off. Don’t be silly, Becks. We’re just mates. Friends probably don’t stare at each other longingly.

—

About two hours and 3 rounds had passed when George had located the jukebox. He had excitedly run up to you, grabbing your hand and pulling you over to the machine.

“I know you love cute shit like this, Y/N. I thought I’d let you pick a song.” George passed you a coin.

The catalogue was mostly 60s and 70s singles, which made it impossible to pick just one song. Taking a quick glance through the selections, you settled for the Bee Gees ‘More Than A Woman’. A few moments after inserting the song, the sound of digital strings and synthetic bass filled the room. You stood at the jukebox with a massive grin adorning your face, swaying to the Bee Gees.

On the way back to the table, an elderly gentleman had stopped you in your tracks.

“Excuse me, miss. Is that a working jukebox?” He softly asked, his kind eyes meeting your own.

“Yes! Would you like me to show you?” You extended your arm out, helping him to his feet.

George looked to you. “Have you got this?”

“Yeah, I’ll be back to the table in a few minutes.” He nodded, returning to the group.

You reached the jukebox, looking through the selections with the man. “There are just too many good choices, aren’t there? I might have to go with Elvis or Solomon Burke next.”

He looked up from the catalogue, surprised look on his face. “I don’t meet too many young people who fancy Solomon Burke.”

“Really? I remember him from the Dirty Dancing soundtrack.” You cracked a smile.

The elderly man extended his hand for you to shake. “I better introduce myself. My name is Thomas.”

“Y/N. Glad to meet you.” You shook his hand gently.

“The pleasure is mine,” Thomas had a kind smile. “That lovely lady over there is my wife Edith. She’s been a bit nervous to be out and about as she had a fall a few months ago.”

“Oh no, is she doing okay now?” Your face had dropped, ever the look of empathy covering it.

“Yes, she’s well again. I think just a bit cautious. I’d love to get her up for a dance.” Thomas picked a song, inserting a coin.

“Well, if Edith decides to turn you down - I’d love a dance.” The two of you walked back to his table, exchanging a smile as he bid you farewell.

Returning to your group of friends, Will gestured for you to fill the empty seat next to him.

“Making friends, are we?” Will teased, lightly running his hand over the top of your own.

“Yeah, that’s my new bestie Thomas. He’s wanting to have a dance but I think Edith is a little nervous. She’s not long had a bit of a fall.” You looked back at the couple, waving back when Edith had raised her hand.

“Why don’t we give them some encouragement? Maybe she just needs to see someone else absolutely tearing it up on the dance floor.” Will laughed, a soft laugh rumbling through his chest.

As ‘More Than A Woman’ reached its final notes, it was soon replaced by Solomon Burke’s ‘Cry To Me’.

Will rose to his feet, holding his hand out for you to grab. He walked right up to the couple, flashing a cheeky smile at Edith. “I was hoping you two could teach us to dance?”

Edith just couldn’t resist. Not that you could blame her. Who could say no to Will? Extending his hand out to her, Will helped Edith to her feet and got her acquainted on the makeshift dance floor. As you watched on, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Shall we?” Thomas offered an arm, positioning the two of you not too far from Edith and Will. As her smile grew, so did his. Will had Edith giggling, spinning her around without a care in the world.

“He seems like a good man.” Thomas had said to you, speaking as though it were matter of fact.

You smiled straight at him. “He is.” That answer must’ve sufficed, as Thomas tried his best to spin you around.

Across the pub, Becky sat fighting back tears.

“Are you alright Becks?” George had asked, struggling to figure out why the girl was suddenly upset.

“Does that not make you want to cry? Look at how cute they are dancing with that elderly couple.” Becky gestured toward Y/N and Will, dabbing underneath her eyes.

ArthurTV piped in, his own eyes shining with unshed tears. “I heard Y/N say the lady was afraid to dance because she’s just had a fall.”

With that, Becky’s first tear dropped. “And Will got her up dancing? That is so sweet!”.

A few moments of idle chat later, the song was nearly over and Will was handing Edith back off to her husband.

“Thomas, do you mind if I steal the young lady for a dance?” Will gently placed a hand on Tom’s shoulder.

“Of course you can. You better get in before her dance card is full.” Thomas joked, squeezing your hand before turning to Edith.

Edith caught your eye, pointing to Will. “He’s gorgeous!” She mouthed.

“You’re telling me!” You whispered back, letting the Geordie man lead you to the middle of the dance floor.

The song changed to Frankie Valli’s ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off You’.

“I thought you liked Frankie.” Will smiled down at you, one hand planted firmly on your waist and the other intertwined with your own. You ran your free hand along his arm, settling it just below his shoulder.

“I love Frankie Valli. I didn’t realise you did too?” You couldn’t remember Will ever mentioning him.

“Oh, I don’t really. You mentioned that you had a few of his albums on vinyl so I gave him a whirl. If you weren’t the one who recommended him, it probably wouldn’t be my vibe.” Will looked around the room, avoiding eye contact in case he’d given away too much. Shit Will, that sounds a bit feral.

“And given that I was the one that recommended it, what do you think?” You squeezed his hand, urging him to meet your eyes.

“Well, Y/N. I like pretty much whatever you like. I think it’s pretty special that you feel like sharing your favourite music with me.” He swallowed hard, stretching his arm out to spin her around in a circle.

As you completed the circle and found yourself back in his grip, you let it slip nonchalantly. “So you must like yourself then?”

“Oh, I go alright.” It took a moment for Will to register what you had said. “Wait. Did you just say what I think you said?”

Deciding to be brave, you stopped in your tracks, dropping your hands to rest on his forearms. “Yeah, I did.”

Will’s hands trailed alongside your sides, leaving a wake of tingles where he had touched you. He placed his hands on either side of your face, looking directly at you. “D’ya mean it?”.

“Oh yeah. I’ve got a big fat schoolgirl crush.” You laughed, breath hitching as Will lightly traced his thumb across your bottom lip. He moved closer.

“That is the best news I’ve heard all fucking week.” His lips ghosted yours, nervous to make the first move.

Edith yelled from across the pub, “oh just kiss her, you silly bastard!”.

That was all the encouragement Will needed, connecting your lips together. If it weren’t for the fact he were right across from you, you could’ve sworn there were actual sparks touching your lips. Your hands find themselves resting on his back, as he used one hand to gingerly hold your face and the other to takes its place in your hair. He lightly tugged on strands of hair, prompting a small gasp to leave your lips. He smiled into the kiss before pulling apart for just a moment.

“So, is it safe to say you like like me?” You winked up at him.

“Sweetheart, I fucking yearn for you,” he pulled you into his chest, arms wrapping securely around you. He placed another quick kiss to your lips. “Let’s go home.”

…..

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

And the winner of the poll is….. WillNE!

Thanks so much for voting!

Would love to dedicate this cute little one shot to @octaneink 🫶

#uk youtuber #will lenney #willne x reader #arthur hill #george clarke #will lenney x reader #willne

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healingpage · 3 days ago

Text

vindicated (swear i'd never do it again) - choi yeonjun

ꕥ pairing: bf!yeonjun x afab!reader

ꕥ genres: smut, angst

ꕥ rating: 18+ mdni

ꕥ warning: dom!yeonjun, sub!reader, arguments, confrontations because they are adults, reader cries a lot, cheating (implied), make up sex, unprotected sex, oral (f.rec) multiple orgasm, fingering, riding

ꕥ wc: 6k

ꕥ a/n: i actually hate this... i've been gate keeping it since last year because of it but nevertheless enjoy

The noise of rain tapping on the windows corresponded with the racing beat of your heart. Weeks had passed since the previous arguments, yet the ensuing silence felt even more distressing. Yeonjun's brown coloured long trench coat still hung by the door, his cologne subtle yet persistent in the air—a harsh reminder of all that was left unsettled between you.

You sit on the floor of your shared apartment with legs crossed, browsing through the pages of a vintage photo album. Your eyes soften at the shiny pictures that seem like it quite narrates a tale of love that seems unstoppable for both of you. Yeonjun was smiling at a summer festival, his eyes almost closing as you guys were hit with warmth from the sun. You were right there by his side, kissing his cheek. Another picture captured you resting on his shoulder during a late-night train journey. At that time, your friends had playfully teased you about your inseparability, during your early stages of relationship, attached closely to each other’s hips all the time.

However, it seems that his love, you don't know, maybe it has faded as time passed. Like a withering flower that is waiting for a moment to shatter on earth, words that were once delivered with sweetness now carry a sharpness. Of course at first, the arguments began minor: late response to messages, any sorts of miscommunications that could have been resolved with an apology. Soon arrived the yelling disputes, doors being slammed, and evenings spent in different rooms. Yeonjun was always the avoidant type, rather than to sit together and talk he prefers to distance himself, stressing you out at the lack of communication.

As you are occupied with countless thoughts, you hear the door slowly being opened, causing you to look up abruptly. Yeonjun enters, his jet black hair evidently wet from the rain. He appears unchanged yet changed, his eyes bearing a heaviness that didn't exist previously. For a brief time, neither of you said anything. The atmosphere in the room was dense, laden with unspoken thoughts.

"You’re still around," Yeonjun eventually says, his tone distant.

"Now you don’t want me here? Where could I possibly go?" You coldly answer, hurt by the question, or his choice of words. Your hands quickly shutting the album and putting it down.

He moves a step closer, then two, then he is standing not even two steps away from you, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. "I was wondering if perhaps you… I'm not sure." His voice is toned down at the end, like he’s not sure what to say.

"Isn’t that what you do?" The resentment in your voice was unignorable, tugging at the string of his heart. "You are gone whenever situations become too tense, you always walk away."

Something flinches inside Yeonjun hearing that, but he refuses to look away. “And you always hold on too tight,” he counters back, his voice trembling. “Like you’re afraid if you let go even a little, everything will fall apart.”

“Because it will fall apart, Yeonjun!” Your voice goes up three tones higher, it even cracks, but you care less about that when you have tears welling up. “It already is. Can’t you see that?”

“What do you want me to do, Y/N?” he asks, his voice breaking as well. “I’ve tried to fix this. I’ve tried to be enough for you, but maybe… maybe we’re just not compatible.”

His words hang between, heavy and suffocating. It feels like he’s admitting defeat, like acknowledging the storm both of you trapped in will never clear. And God, does it hurt. The constant effort you make to understand him better, the lies he told to your face you turned blind eye into, the missed important dates.

“You think I don’t know that?” you whisper, your voice barely audible to him. “But even after everything, I can’t walk away. I… I love you, Yeonjun. Even when it hurts. Even when you hurt me, over and over. I can lose everything, but not you…”

Yeonjun’s shoulders droop, and for the first time in a long time, he looks guilty. He stares at your wet face, your disheveled form, your trembling hands. You never look so broken, his sweet darling, the apple of his eyes, his precious love appears like a broken piece of glass before him, it wrenches his heart thinking that it was from all his doings.

“I love you too,” he admits, his voice raw. You can feel his gaze soften a bit, eyes no longer angry. “But is love enough if all I do is hurting you?”

The question is like a stabbing knife to your heart. You both knew the answer, but neither has the courage to say it aloud. Silence fills the air once more, the rain pouring outside is like a brutal mirror to the storm inside your apartment.

Finally, Yeonjun closes the distance between you. He hesitantly kneels in front of you, his hands trembling as he cups your face. “I don’t want to lose you either,” he says, every word that comes up from his mouth shakes. “But I don’t know how to fix this.”

“Maybe we can’t fix it,” you replied, your tears spilling non stop now that he’s got his hands on you. It is obvious that his hand is cold from the freezing weather outside, yet it spreads warmth inside you as you lean further into his comforting, healing touch. “Maybe we just have to accept that we’re broken. But I’d rather be broken with you than whole without you. I don’t wanna give up on us, Jjunie.”

Yeonjun leans his forehead against yours as he hears the nickname, his own tears falling. You let him engulf you in his arms, arms brushing over each other giving you goosebumps on the realisation that you went on a week without him. His chest heaves up and down, relaxed heartbeat calming you down as you savour the moment.

“I am sorry, baby,” he is the first one to break the silence. You could not pinpoint whether he is sincere about it, but his eyes are telling you like you matter the most in his world. “I hurt you, didn't I? How’d you sleep this past week?” His voice laced with concern, tone so dulcet and sweet you feel like you are falling into a gush of sugar. Knowing you hardly fall asleep without him around, his mind floods with sorrowful guilt.

“Horrible, I missed you,” you come clean, him smiling so softly you would miss it if you weren't right in his hug.

“Poor baby, I missed her too,” he uses his usual baby tone to talk to you, stroking the back of your head while you find yourself closing your eyes at the comforting contact.

“Wanna cuddle?” He's asking so nicely, not even waiting for your answer as he lifts you up from the cold floor, wrapping your legs around his waist. He walks you both to your shared room, your heart thumping as you feel butterflies all over again. The room hasn't changed since the last time you guys slept in the same bed and room, clean simple beige sheets that Yeonjun had changed after your last intercourse being where you land on.

He's taking off his jacket, the only thing that he wears on his upper body being the black sleeveless shirt that drives you crazy everytime you see those on him. Your eyes that are set on him trembles a bit, forcing you to let out a cough.

“It's January. You shall wear something more warm.”

“I could warm up being next to you,” he's quick with his witty answer, already jumping on the bed again, pulling you yet again into his embrace. His face is buried in your neck, lips dangerously wandering around your sensitive areas you breathe deeply as you bite back a moan.

“Jjunie, I thought we were only going to cuddle,” you interrupt, yet you find your hands tangling in his strands of hair, noticeably longer since the last time you held onto them.

“Aren’t we?” his lips latching on your skin by now, gently sucking on the flesh before he lets go, leaving a fresh mark of him on you, reclaiming his territory. He retreats for a while, lips part as he hears the small gasp that comes up as you notice the hickey. “So beautiful…”

As you remain captivated by his alluring move, seemingly innocent as he keeps making out first, then his hands start to roam not only over but now under your clothing a little. He strips your top off first, fondling at your tits.

“Tell me if you don’t want me,” he pauses, looking at your expression. Your doe eyes look at him, a bit glassy. His stomach churns at that, just a moment ago, you were yelling at him but now, under him you could not deny his contact with your body.

“Oh—” you moan out, feeling every inch of your body craving for his touch more and more, you could feel your underwear sticking onto your entrance by now, your arousal grows greedier. “Yeonjun.”

“Am right here, baby. Tell me what you need.”

“Want you, need you, all of you, oh my god—” your words are cut at how he would make easy work of the tiny shorts that wrap you, he slips them off quickly, palming your ass before slipping off the lacy underwear too.

Then his shirt is off in a minute, before long you're staring at one spot on his chest, your voice that says his name shrieking. Yeonjun is confused at first, before he looks at the direction you are setting your eyes to. His eyes widen as you shove him away, your trembling hands pulling the comforter to cover your body.

“Was–was there someone else?” your voice comes up shaky, eyes glistening with tears that pools at your lower lid. Yeonjun is silenced, a lost look evident in his face. “Y/n…”

“Answer me!” Your tears are falling now, your heart crushed at how he’s not quick to reassure you, to deny your assumption, anything. The bruise mark on his chest, one that was not created by you. Sure, your relationship had been quite flimsy at times after a solid three years, but you never had a reason to doubt his love for you. Every time you argue, it was never about a third person. The third person has never come into the picture. “Did you sleep with her?!” you shout, Yeonjun flinches at the tone.

“Baby, I don’t–”

“Then, what the fuck is that on your neck?” you ask, squinting at a faint purplish mark near his collarbone. It was positioned enough to be hidden when he’s wearing a shirt, but now that it’s off, it’s so evident.

Yeonjun covers the hickey with his hand, the movements rushed and awkward. “Oh, this? It’s... nothing. Just a bruise from a fall,” he mumbles, avoiding eye contact.

“Let me see,” you say after a long silence, your tone firm but he can see the way your lips tremble. Yeonjun hesitates a little, but you reach out your hand, and he lets you inspect the spot. You feel your stomach turn as you lightly run your fingertips over it. You aren’t foolish, it was not just any bruise; it was distinctly shaped and coloured like a hickey.

Your heart drops as you feel the reality of the situation. “That has nothing to do with a fall. Be honest with me.”

Yeonjun’s face changes, and the room falls quiet for a brief period. Both of you, especially Yeonjun, feel anxious about the occasion.

He wobbles with "I... I can explain," but his words sounded unsure, and you feel that is an insincere answer. Like he’s hiding something.

Your head whirl with feelings of betrayal, rage, hurt, and disbelief. This has turned into the rifts in the trust you had established together, not simply about the mark. Your head feels heavy, turning down as you cry.

“It’s not what you’re thinking, y/n!” he’s also yelling now, frustration overcoming him. Guilt, sadness and anger mixed in as he breathed in, his own eyes wet. His heart breaks seeing your state, it’s not the first time he sees you crying but this time you look incredibly heartbroken, miserable and not just upset at him.

“Then, what, what would explain this, Yeonjun?” you are fully sobbing, words imprecise swallowed by your cry.

“I was just… at the club okay? I was drunk, I don’t even remember–”

“Fuck that!” you cut him off, your voice burst with fume. “Do you realize how this looks?! How does it feel to even think you might’ve cheated on me? You try to sleep with me when that mark hasn’t even disappeared?!”

“Baby,” he tries again, trying to get closer to you.

“Don’t baby me,” your voice cold as ice in line with the gaze you now give him. “I don’t know, I thought you would never do that to me. I would never find someone else as long as I’m your girlfriend, Yeonjun. So stupid of me to hold on to you, I should have left long ago, so I don’t feel this hurt, because now I love you so much—too much, it feels even more painful…” you confess, finding yourself laughing at the absurdness yet your tears keep on rolling non stop. “If you don’t like me anymore you could just tell me. I would pack my things myself so you don’t have to rub it in like this.” Sniffles exit your nose, the back of your hand become the temporary napkin as you rub your tears away.

His eyes softened as he reached for her hands, his touch warm but cautious. “Y/n, I’d never hurt you like that. I love you. Please believe me.”

You pull your hands back, turning away to hide the tears welling yet again in your eyes. But before you could retreat further, Yeonjun closes the gap between you both, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

“Y/n, look at me,” he whispers, his breath warm against her ear. “You’re everything to me. I can’t stand the thought of you doubting that.”

You turn slowly, her tearful eyes meeting his. There is sincerity in his gaze that makes your heart falter, and along that, a little of expectation because you can still feel the love. It’s still there in his eyes, filled with it and warmth as he looks at you.

“Explain to me,” you say, trying to steady your voice but Yeonjun, knowing you through, could catch that you are still hoping for his denial, still hoping that it isn’t true what you see. With a regretful smile, he cups your face gently, brushing tears away, his fingers on you treating it as delicate as possible.

“Won’t you judge me?” he carefully asks, studying your expression as your brow rises in confusion.

“It depends,” you answer, short, simple and clear.

“Saturday,” he starts, “I was at Taehyun’s. I was stressed out about our fight, and then he persuaded me into going to the club. Relax a little. I had a drink, maybe two but I was so wasted, I don’t remember who was it, I don’t know her, it was a random girl there, I’m gonna be honest we make out a little, and she did this,” he pauses, touching the mark, before his gaze settles on you confidently this time, “Taehyun came up, and he dragged me out there, telling me all about it the next morning. He was meaning to tell you everything first, but I told him not to, because I want to settle things ourselves.”

“Why didn't you tell her you’re not single,” you complain, lips pouting as you contemplate the story, it seems believable but you don’t know for sure. “And why do you have to be so hot, people literally couldn't leave you alone.”

He softly laughs at that, before turning serious again. “I am sorry, pretty girl,” he apologizes, “I don’t know how to mend things that have already happened, I know I should’ve known how wasted I’d be and just head home.”

He then grabs your comforter covered waist, pulling your head to land on his chest, letting you wet it. Your sobbing grows louder first, hands reluctantly creeping up to touch his shoulders. “I am sorry, oh baby, you don’t know how sorry I am, it’s all my fault, should have stayed that night, just hold you close until you’re not upset at me.”

“What can I do to earn your forgiveness, tell me, gorgeous,” his voice is whiny now, almost pleading when your sniffles haven't stopped. The hand that is holding onto your back scatters random shapes on it.

“Then prove it,” you mumble, looking up to him again, your voice barely audible.

Yeonjun cups your face gently, you look very endearing with cheeks red, eyes swollen and lips pouting a bit, his thumbs brushing away the tears remaining on your cheeks. “I’ll spend my entire life proving it,” he says, the sound of his confession thick with emotion.

Your lips meet together in a tender kiss, one that starts slow but it quickly deepens as you could feel the desperation in his touch, the regret, the unspoken promise that he’d never betray your trust.

He lifts you effortlessly, carrying you back on the bed where you can place your head on the pillow comfortably. His hands roam your back as yours are tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. The tension between you dissolves into a shared need for closeness, for reassurance, for reconciliation, for love.

Seconds later, he's immediately invading your personal space, arms around you in a tight, needy embrace. He has his face nestled in the crook of your neck, a heavy breath that tells you he's relieved and something familiar, something that you hunch as love.

“Jun—“ he smashes his mouth against yours, tongue pushing past your lips, the taste of chapstick that you're familiar with, the one that he only uses during winter due to dryness. Desperate sounds leave both your mouths, you are whining while he's half groaning. His body pressed against yours, separated by the cover that hasn't left your body. When he finally pulls away from the passionate kiss, his eyes find yours, filled with affective and yearning.

“I missed you s’ much, princess, how did I survived a whole week without you,” he presses a kiss to your neck, tongue tracing the collarbone with a cherish that signifies his worship on you.

“Would you allow me, princess, I want to make it up to you, please,” he looks up at you with his big, puppy-like eyes, an expression so pitiful it’s admirable. The desperation behind them makes it difficult to say no. You aren't better, your whole body is craving for him.

“Touch me,” you let out a soft whimper, arching into his touch. "Please," you breathe out, and he happily obliges, the cover is off the bed instantly.

Then his hands travel down your sides to your hips, fingers digging in as if to keep you anchored to him. The hand then kneads the meat of your ass, your breath hitches as he goes down on you, nails digging into his arms as you inhale deeply as if committing you to memorise his scent.

“My girl’s so pretty,” he slurs out, before he dives into your pussy, your hand goes flying to grab onto his hair as he splits you open through his tongue.

“Yeonjun!”

“Sorry,” he murmurs against your inner thigh, his hot breath causing goosebumps to rise in its wake. He says sorry, but his action doesn't match the word. “Has been so long since I munched on this.”

Your toes curl, eyes thrown back at the way he is switching between licking and sucking, almost like that's the whole purpose of his life. his scruffy cheeks hollow as he sucks a hickey into the soft flesh of your inner thigh. He was right though, it has been a while, the pleasure is almost foreign to you.

“Are you still my girl?” he questions, sounding cocky like the usual Yeonjun you know. The sexy, intimidating confidence that has you weak in your knees every time. Your only response is a moan, causing his lips to turn into a smirk, “Of course you are, I‘m the only one that can get you this wet, baby. Correct?”

No longer able to give him a reply, he continues to work his mouth on you. His tongue is relentless, it is sucking onto your entrance, then it is swirling around your clit with increasing fervor. The pace is sloppy, uncoordinated, messy even sometimes, but it only serves to bring you higher to the excitement of it all. Each time he pulls back, you can hear his heavy pant in search of breath, feel the way his mouth lets out your name.

“Oh, Y’jun—” your mindlessly thrown words trail off into incoherent mumbles as you feel closer to the edge, bringing you the sensation. “So close, please.”

The urgency in your begging translates to him as an invitation to continue. The way your entire body is wound up so tense, unwittingly ready to snap. He moves his thumb finger to press on your clit, skilled enough to actually let another two of them be inserted in your pussy, curling them just right so that they’re pressing against that dangerous spot that has you seeing stars.

“Shit, you just got way wetter, you have been craving me that much, huh,“ he chuckles against your thighs, and he's not completely wrong. The way he's re-arranging your inside, it's like he's trying to prove a point, to prove that as much as he needs you, you need him too.

"Wanna cum, please," you gasp out, and then he increases the intensity, your thighs shaking like crazy before it all stops as your liquid gushes out. Yeonjun is more than glad to pick up some of it, slurping them from his fingers. His sexy gaze and your quivering ones meet, silent praises and apologies heard from the way he's caressing your waist gently.

“You haven't come yet,” your sweet voice echoes in his ears. You are still the bundle of love for him, always thinking of his pleasure when you were just crying betrayed by his trust earlier. With agony, Yeonjun is shaking his head, presenting you with a small smile.

“No, it's okay princess. I should be fine, let's go to sleep, hmm? You are tired, I'll hold you,” he's denying you, aware of how relaxed your body is after having your orgasm, you must be so sexually frustrated the whole week. On top of that he knows how bad your sleep was affected due to your argument. Your eyes have been drowsy for a while now, yet you find strength to get up, straddling his lap.

“Love shall go both ways, as much as I mean the world to you, you mean the same to me. What you want from me, I want you the same way too.”

Your eyes staring at him, the honesty in it clear as crystal. Your hand that he is missing so much takes off his pants. The skin against his feels so soft, you are moving a bit behind to kneel before him.

“You really don't have to, princess,” he's saying again, hands caressing your hairline. You look up to him with round eyes, determined to mean what you said earlier. In a brief moment, you are presented with his hard-ons, the sight making you drooling. He's denying you once again with the look in his eyes, so you confidently reply, “I wanna do this.”

“Fuck," Yeonjun breathes out, eyes twisting shut as he feels your warm throat enveloping him. He collects your hair in his fist gently, holding it as you swallow him whole. Your hands move to rest on his thighs, pretty acrylics pressing on it whenever another inch of him goes in.

The feeling of your mouth enveloping him has him pulsing in your throat, his lips part as lewd sounds of him moaning leaves. “You're doing so well for me, babe.”

You take the praise to relax your jaw, letting his tip hit the back of your throat. Your eyes water at the feeling, hurriedly tapping his thighs to let him know the cue. He tightens the grip he has on your hair as he starts to move your head on his length, forcing you to take more and more of him till your nose brushes against his pelvis.

He moves your head up and down, his thrust harsh as he makes you take his entire length then leaving only his tip before repeating the entire process, moaning out your name whenever his head brushes against your throat.

You know he is getting close—you could feel him pulsing in your mouth, as a layer of sweet coated his forehead despite the cold room, making him glow so charmingly. You inhale a deep breath, before sucking in your cheeks, humming his name around him, knowing it is exactly what it would take to throw him over the edge.

“I'm close, baby,” he pleads, inaudible chatters of moans follows after as you double your efforts, and as expected a few seconds later his release spreads through your throat as you continue to bob your head to swallow.

Yeonjun’s chest is heaving, his hair a disheveled mess as he leans his hand heavily against your head, staring down at you like you’d just knocked the wind out of him. You guys stay silent for a while, eye contact with each other being the only sole communicator.

And when you place your legs on either side of him, both of his hands finding their home on your waist, your hole wet and slick enough, ready for him, he’s once again starstrucked, the feeling's overwhelming like you’re made just for him. He bites his lip when you slide down with a whiny mention of his name, you stay still for a moment, and he's all but resist as he needs the comfort of you being wrapped around him right now just bad.

Your eyes could not help but trail down to the mark from earlier, upsetting thoughts taking over you as you encounter the upsetting thoughts again. Your eyes tremble with tears as you hold onto Yeonjun’s shoulders, you begin to sob again, the sight making Yeonjun uneasy as he’s even more apologetic when you are so clearly hurt by the smallest mark, yet the biggest mistake he had made.

"You're mine, you got that?" you sniffle, your touch on him soft but it feels possessive enough to Yeonjun at that point of time.

"Of course, all yours baby, only yours," he breathes as you part your lips, looking down on his neckline. Your eyes briefly glance over the hickey painted over his chest and it leaves the feeling of your heart throbbing in your chest. Unshed tears sting at your eyes, the sound of incoherent sob immediately puts him to sit up against the headboard, holding you close to him.

“I’m sorry, we shouldn’t do this, let’s just—”

“No,” you decline immediately, hands clasping together at his shoulder trying to push him back to let you be in charge. You bite back a sob, “I want to do this. Want this off you,” you snivel, looking pitiful and so eager to get the mark to be hidden by your own, your lip finding its way to his skin, sucking on it before your teeth sink on the same exact spot that leaves Yeonjun wincing in pain. He’s staring at you deeply now, heart wrenched as droplets of tears roll down your cheek in frustration.

"I should’ve been better, should’ve tried harder, I'm gonna make things right, love, I swear," he's spurting all his emotion out, hands scrambling to make their way to your thighs and helping you to move.

“Swear I’d never do it again,” he adds, his pillow-y soft lip rasps across your sensitive neck as he plants gentle kisses all over it. The action is filled with reassurance, infatuation, and warmth. Quite literally soft and tender, far from the agony that had filled your heart only moments before.

“There, princess?” he's asking, his tip reaching your sensitive spot, your voice exceptionally high pitched when you reply to him a yes.

He's much more attentive tonight. Usually sex with him was rough, which you couldn’t complain about or dislike, but there is something adorable about him being so soft with you that always made this a lot more enjoyable than usual. His kisses and praises doubles, along with the occasional apologies, his promise to do better. Your mind goes out from while to while, unable to comprehend the actual sentence that he forms. You are just glad he's holding you, grounding you from blacking out.

“Let me show you my love,” he helps you on your back, his dick sliding out for a while, smiling softly when you make a fuss for it, “I know, it's okay, baby,” comes out his mouth as he thrust up into you, sucking at your neck to leave a few more love bites.

“Faster,” you whimper, dissatisfied at the slow pace.

“We'll get there, so impatient,” Yeonjun chuckles, his hand brushing against your arms to settle into your breast, fondling it. Your desperate moans filled the room, the pace slowly building up. Your hand travels down to your clit, rubbing it before it gets shoved away by Yeonjun instantly.

Before you could question his denial, he whispers a stern “I could do that,” as you relax to his touch, his skilled fingers working its magic. You wrap your arms around his shoulder, pulling him into a kiss, moaning into his mouth as he brings you closer to your high.

He hums against your lips as you tighten around him when you reach your orgasm, peppering the softest kisses all around your face while his hands mapped out your precious body that he’s come to cherish so much. Someone as lovely, as flawless, and as serene as you is a blessing for a man like him, a man who is emotionally lacking and aloof. Your body shakes with the overstimulation, a small smile escapes as he slows the pace, tender and consistent thrust to relax you.

“You feel so good, baby.” His eyes trailing down your body to where you are connected, the base of his cock wraps with thick white rings of your arousal, and his mouth opens at the vicious sight. He watches closely for your expression every time he plunges forward; your hips moving to meet his, thrust for thrust despite your previous orgasm. “Pussy made for me, yeah? Missed me that much?”

Each harsh thrust makes your tits bounce and forces a moan out from you as a response. Yeonjun chuckles at your lack of words, the sight admirable for him. The pleasure on your part made it difficult for you to even make out his expression or words anymore, feeling like you are on cloud nine for a second and a second later you are back on ground.

“Gonna make it up to you, promise,” he’s mumbling in between his praise for you, left at his mercy as he draws various shapes on your clit to push you further in ecstasy, another orgasm creeping in as you hold onto his shoulder tight.

As you let go for him, the endless words of flattery along with assurance of the love he has for you acts as your company. He’s slowing down, waiting for you to come down from your high. As your breath and heartbeat falls into a stable rhythm again, he’s back to thrusting slowly, your breath hitches as you are flooded with oversensitivity, wincing at the intrusion.

“Shh… I’m sorry, just a little bit more, pretty,” his whisper sends relaxation, trusting him with everything as you nod, occasional whimpers leaving your mouth at the slight discomfort. You shift your entire focus on him as he reaches his release, eyebrows furrowed with a slightly opened mouth as you reach your hands out to touch him on the cheek. The contact subconsciously draws a moan from him, resting his forehead on yours.

“Baby,” he calls out, “I’m sorry, I love you.”

Your lips twitch into a small smile, nodding as you rub his cheek yet you say nothing. The silence is deafening, Yeonjun himself cringing as he pulls out from you slowly. None of you breaks the silence as he gets up first to clean himself, allowing you to take a small nap before being woken up by him, for the never forgotten aftercare.

“Do you mind if I sleep with you tonight? I wanna have you in my arms.” The question arises from him as he buttons your pyjamas for tonight. He takes in your cozy state, eyelashes fluttering as you look up to him. You rarely ever see his nervous state, he is a person that always exudes such kind of charisma, carrying himself with confidence, at least around you, yet he seems least intimidating, nervous and very cautious with that simple question.

He isn’t looking for grand gestures or dramatic declarations. What he’s asking for is something simple, intimate, and deeply human: the opportunity to lie beside you, to hold you, and maybe even to begin the slow process of rebuilding what was lost, piece by piece. For a moment, you let yourself believe that this time, it might be different. That he genuinely wants to start anew and make amends, not just relive the moments of the past.

“Of course, Jjunie. Hold me, and don’t let go.”

At your reply, Yeonjun nearly jumps, placing you snuggly in his hold, not missing the opportunity to land a kiss every each and a while on your forehead as you relax and allow yourself to doze off.

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