#tutor reader
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“Teach me how to be good”
Chapter 1
Series Masterlist
A/N: I really hope you’ll enjoy the au! Keep in mind Steve is at first only 17! I don’t know how long the series will be, probably around 8 chapters maybe? + drabbles and thoughts:) if you ever want to share something, my inbox is open.
Kith kith to @jamneuromain for always helping me with these amazing ideas 😩😍🤭
Warnings: Steve is 17, flustered Steve👀 virgin and very inexperienced Steve, male masturbation , fantasies about blowjobs and sex
If you don’t feel comfortable with something above, this is probably not for you:)
Normally you wouldn’t have taken the offer, but it was your bosses son and they’d pay you good money, if he’d manage to pass his math exams. Since you were really good with this subject, currently busy with your master in mathematics studies. You wanted to be a teacher, help kids who need it…but the kid you were supposed to help was no kid. An 17 year old boy, well, technically still a kid. As soon as you entered his room-which was surpassingly tidy (his mom told him to clean up). “Hi, I’m your new Tutor till your upcoming exams”, you introduced yourself. When Steve looked up from his book, he felt like someone just hung up a star for him. Such a Beautiful Girl…-Woman in his room. Quickly putting the book aside and nearly tripping out of bed he held out his hand to you. He may be younger, but he was still taller than you. “Hi-hi I’m Steve”, he introduced himself. You laughed amused but shook his hand nevertheless. “I know, your parents told me. Come on, now grab your books and show me what you don’t know.”
He didn’t know shit about math .
But he knew he’d do anything to win your heart.
After you explained to him how to solve some of the exercises, he definitely understood it much better. Maybe because he liked listening to you rather than his old annoying teacher or maybe he actually was good at math. He had no idea. He didn’t even care. His gaze was glued to your face, while you were checking the things he wrote. A big smile creeping onto your rosy, soft looking lips. “Good job, Steve. You did great with these. See? Told you you’d be great”, you said cheerfully, still standing behind him and putting a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. He felt like his heart was about to explode. Beating in his chest uncontrollably, spreading in his body a warmth tingling feeling. Blood rushed to his cheeks, painting him with a soft blush. Not only did blood rush to his cheeks, but also to his crotch, making his dick twitch and slowly hardening. Especially when he felt your hand rub his shoulder. Fuck, what if you’d rub his thigh like that? Or maybe over his length? He felt nervous and scared you’d notice his erection. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He was becoming a mess and he had no idea why. It’s not like you did anything sexual? Why was he feeling like that. You’d probably notice how he was squirming around, trying to pull his tight jeans a bit lower so they wouldn’t pinching against his cock like that. If you’d looked into his eyes you could easily see his pupil dilating. But you didn’t look at him? It’s like you were always trying to avoid his gaze. He really hoped it was just his imagination playing a trick on him. You were probably just busy checking for any mistakes…
For a moment your eyes hushed to him, quickly and nearly unnoticeable. But since he was already staring at you, he saw it. The feeling in his chest got tighter, it’s like he felt his air being pushed out of his lungs. “Would you gooutwithme?”, he slapped his hand to his lips, feeling how his face became hot. He was blushing like a fucking virgin. Well. He was one. So that was about right. Unfortunately you still did hear everything he said, even though his words were a bit slurred. “Sweetheart, I’m too old for you. I’m 25, did you know that?”, you laughed head shaking, gabbing a few other papers. He swallowed, hard. Once, twice. Somehow it didn’t bother him that you were seven-or eight years older. Actually he even liked it. Feeling his mouth open he could already tell there’d come out something stupid. “So it’s a no? Or a maybe?”, at least he made you laugh.
Shaking your head you wrote down a few new problems for him to solve. “You’re a minor”, is all you said, brushing his hair, making him push back at your hand slightly. He looked up at you, with his big bright eyes. You also noticed the blush now and how he was pulling at his jeans, where you could swear you could see a bulge. Maybe that’s just your imagination after sitting with him for so long. Steve was really sweet. But too young. And you definitely wouldn't come after a high schooler.
“My birthday is in a few months”, he tried, but you just gave him a stern look, sitting down on the other chair. “Steve, I'm not that kind of girl you’re looking for. I'm not ‘first girl material’, trust me”, you said and ending the conversation with that, once again bringing the topic back to math. He tried to argue, but you silenced him with just a stern look.
Huh. Interesting. His pupils dilated even more.
The rest of the session was eventless, just you explaining to him everything he needed. He was a good listener, even though you noticed he stared at you more often than necessary.
After you left, he didn't know what to do first, call his best friend Bucky and tell him about the goddess of a woman he met, or jerk off after being hard for the last forty minutes.
He decided the call could wait.
You were back a week later, once again you’d sit with him for an hour and Steve couldn’t wait for you to finally arrive. (He pulled the other chair a bit closer to his own, so you’d hopefully sit closer to him. You smelled so good.) Apparently he must have not been too discreet about it, since you pulled the chair to its original position, giving him once again the stern look. Yup, it’s the look. He knew it at this point. His cheeks felt immediately slightly warmer.
“Have you done the homework I gave you?”you asked, smiling, taking out your notes. Steve grabbed his books, opening the notebook on the right page, sliding it closer to you with a big smile on his face. You looked down at the notes, sometimes crossing something out. He watched you nervously, feeling his leg shake underneath the table. It’s not like he really cared about math, so why was it so important for him to get it right? Wanting you to praise him? God, he really wanted you to compliment him like you did the last time. It just made his whole brain so…cloudy. His whole body was buzzing with need.
“Well, we need to work on a few things, but we only had one session so I’m not surprised it wasn’t easy.” Your words were friendly, but his chest felt tighter with every second.
After you gave him his notes back he sighed, seeing how many calculations were wrong. He hated how it made him feel, how the tears stung in his eyes. You’ve noticed how his shoulders slumped, as he looked down, avoiding your gaze-which definitely was not like him. “Steve, is everything alright?”, you asked gently. He still didn’t look at you, so you stood up and came closer to him, putting your hand on his shoulder. This made him lift his head, his eyes filled with threatening to fall tears. God, your heart stopped for a minute seeing him like this. So…upset. But why would he be so upset?
“Steve, what’s going on?”, your voice was still gentle, but a bit firmer, making him swallow the lump in his throat. “I’m just so stupid. Don’t even know stupid Math”, he whispered. Your heart ached.
He was such a sweet thing.
Feeling upset because of some homework. This reminded you once again about the age gap that was between you. When you were his age you’d also been upset about school, crying about very often. But after nearly being done with college you couldn’t even remember the last time you really felt upset about any assignments. You were mostly stressed, but Steve…he seemed really sad and frustrated.
You brushed over his hair with your hand. “Don’t worry, you’re doing great, Steve. It’s not always easy. You did really great, especially after just one session”, you said, not being able to stop yourself from scratching his scalp gently, burying your fingers in his soft hair. A gasp escaped his lips, while he looked up at you, his hand twitching to touch. To feel. Without thinking his fingertips brushed over your thigh, but lightly enough for you to still ignore it. “Really?”, he asked, needing reassurance. A soft smile crept onto your lips. “Yes, really. You're doing amazing — I'm so proud of you.”
You saw the exact moment when his eyes widened, pupils getting bigger, swallowing the bright Color of his iris, mouth agape. There was even a blush spreading from under his shirt to the tips of his ears. Fuck, he looked just like he was-Fuck, that’s just a mind playing a trick on you, right?
Quickly stepping away from him you cleared your throat, opening your book. “Lets-let's get to work, shall we?”, you mumbled not missing how his gaze was glued to you. Mesmerised.
Even though you felt awful, you couldn’t stop yourself from praising him even more. Whenever you have the chance to do it. Such a Smart Boy. Good job. Doing so well. You couldn’t stop yourself from also slipping a quiet good boy to it too. It wasn’t right and you knew it, but it was also so hot seeing him turning into such a mess just from praising him. He was blushing like a- Oh god. The realization made your own cheeks blush slightly. How have you not thought about it before? This boy was still a virgin. That’s why he was so affected by a simple few words. He probably didn’t even know he had a praise kink. Maybe he didn’t even know what kinks were.
It only showed you once again how different your life experiences were. You felt awful using such vulnerable information against this sweet boy. Your friends from the BDSM club community would most likely give you a damn spanking, even though you were rather a Dom than sub.
You pushed these thoughts aside, even though your gaze fell once again to Steve , who was gripping his thighs firmly, probably feeling uncomfortable in his jeans. He was definitely bad at hiding the bulge in his pants, but he seemed to think you hadn't noticed. Good. He shouldn’t feel embarrassed about anything, not after you worked him up so much.
Giving him some more homework for the week you left after an hour and Steve couldn’t wait till his door closed to finally take out his cock. He didn’t even manage to fully push down his jeans, before pulling out his cock, pushing the boxers and pants only to the half of his thighs, before pumping himself. Steve moaned quietly, imagining it was your hand instead of his. Maybe he’d even get so lucky to feel your lips? God your lips made him crazy. So beautiful, plump and rosy. You were always biting down on them, making them look even redder. He’d love to see them around his cock, sucking at his tip, maybe licking over the length. Fuck, he had no idea how a blowjob felt like, but he watched enough porn to imagine it. Bucky also told him a lot about it. It felt like heaven.
And he believed it. Especially if it could be with you.
He imagined your fingers wrapping around his length, squeezing. Your tongue licking up the pre-cum that was glistening from his slit. “Such a good boy for me”, you’d praise him, he just knew. He had no idea why this came into his mind, but he’d definitely want to hear you say it. You had such a beautiful body. He noticed whenever you leaned forward or walked out the door, that you had a few curves hidden underneath the hoodie you wore. Fuck, would you let him feel your tit? Maybe suck on your nipples? Or would you even let him fuck them? His cock would look so good between them, sliding effortlessly from all the pre-cum that was literally dripping.
Maybe you’d let him fuck you. God, maybe he could bend you over his desk, right where you were helping him with his stupid homework. Or you could ride him. In the chair he was sitting in. Fuck, yeah, that’s it. He’d want you to ride him. Bounce on his dick, moaning his name. He’d grab your tits, kneading them. Needing a taste of you he’d kiss you everywhere he could reach. Suck on your nipples, while you’d let your hips drop hard on his dick. You’d let him cum inside you, filling you up. He could already hear your moans, your sweet words- come for me, come for Mis-
A sudden orgasm rushed over him. He didn’t even had time to push his shirt up, before cum shot from his slit, paiting his t-Shirt with his white seed, something even reached his chin. Panting he looked down at himself, surprised by what just happened. His legs were still trembling, while he grabbed a tissue, wiping away the mess. Steve felt his cheeks heat up, embarrassed about thinking about you while jerking off. Again.
Chapter 2
I hoped you enjoyed it!! Please leave some feedback and reblog!:3
Please interact so I know you’d like to read more<3
#steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers smut#steve rogers x female reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x y/n#student steve rogers#high school#high school au#student#tutor reader#smut#dom reader#sub steve rogers
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Philosophy 101
Pairing: Jock!Steve Rogers x Sassy!Tutor!Reader
Status: Coming soon!
Summary: You've always been the smart girl. Be it in school or in life, but especially when it came to boys. You always steered clear of them, knowing they were nothing but trouble. Until a blue-eyed, muscular blonde turns your life upside down, and makes you question everything you thought you knew.
Word count: TBD
Warnings: Fluff, angst and smut (detailed warnings to be updated once the fic is posted)
The beautiful header is by my sweet bestie @justconfettiandsomeddew <3
The beautiful divider is by @firefly-graphics
SNEAK PEEK OF UPCOMING FIC UNDER THE CUT
You spent two hours tutoring Steve in the library until it was time for your morning class. For some inexplicable reason, it was like time flew by, and you didn't even realize it was time to leave before you noticed people filtering out of the library.
Steve had progressed tremendously even in the short span of two hours, and you had to give it to Professor Adler – he was right.
Steve wasn't an idiot, far from it actually, but you suspected he had a hard time prioritizing. You got the sense that his main concern was football, and you couldn't fault him for that, knowing that's the case for a lot of the guys at your school.
Steve is reading through a paragraph when you notice the time, making you gently whisper, "I think we need to wrap it up, class is starting soon."
His head lifts in surprise, his face turning towards you, "It is? What time is it?"
You inhale quietly when he turns to face you, those baby blues practically inches from your face as you sit next to him. Steve is beautiful in a different way than the usual jocks around here; he is clean-shaven, his features had an innocence to them while simultaneously being devastatingly manly and handsome.
It was hard to describe it, really, and it made you a bit enamored with him. You'd caught yourself watching him for the past two hours, subtly of course, to ensure he wouldn't notice. You'd had to hide your smile when you noticed the dent in his nose, disrupting the straight line of it, undoubtedly from a football injury.
You'd also caught yourself staring at his long lashes, fluttering and touching his cheek whenever he blinked. They were thick, too, such wasted potential on a guy who would never understand what a blessing they are.
You noticed the small beauty marks on his skin; littered across his face, down his neck, branding him in a delicate way. Part of you wanted to trace them, run your fingers over his skin to feel whether it would be as soft as it looked.
Even his blonde hair, unkempt and mussed up as it was, made you yearn to run your fingers through it. His expressive eyebrows, his high cheekbones, his sharp jawline; staring at Steve was undoubtedly more interesting than studying – he was like a work of art, so effortlessly gorgeous, you weren't even sure he realized.
Of course he does. A guy like that knows how hot he is. You can tell by the way his large biceps are visible even through the lumpy fabric of his hoodie, his thick thighs not well hidden by his sweats. He was built, tall, muscular; a handsome football player, of course he realizes how gorgeous he is.
You offer him a small smile, glancing toward the clock on your laptop, "It's 9.10. We have class at 9.30. And I need to get something to eat before, I think, or I don't know if I'll make it through."
Steve lets out a chuckle at your words, and the melodic sound warms your veins in a comforting way. He's got a great laugh, of course he would, that beautiful bastard.
"You have a point, getting through Professor Adler's class on an empty stomach is near impossible."
You nod, mirroring his chuckle, "Yeah, exactly. But we made great progress today, you'll be just fine for the test, Steve. You're all good." You smile as you get up from your seat to gather your things, and Steve watches you for a moment before he blurts out, "Oh, uh, I don't know, I think I need a little more tutoring, just-"
You shake your head as you chuckle, "No, really Steve, I think you'll be alright for the test. You know this stuff, you just need to be confident about it."
Steve frowns as he watches you pack your books in your bag, glancing down at the textbook in front of him. He hadn't even realized that two hours had passed, it was like being in a different world this entire time.
He's noticed you before, more times than he can count. Not just because you were the smartest girl in class, and constantly had your hand up, but also because you were strikingly beautiful, in an understated way that made him curious to know more about you.
He wasn't sure if you even realized how pretty you were, he had a suspicion you didn't, or that, even if you did, you simply didn't care.
And that was fascinating to Steve. It had been from the very moment he first saw you in freshman year.
#philosophy 101#steve rogers#college au#jock steve#tutor reader#sassy reader#football player#steve#rogers#football#college#sports#chris evans#chris evans characters#fluff#smut#angst#steve rogers fluff#steve rogers smut#steve rogers angst#au#puppy steve#fuckboy steve#football player steve#athlete steve#nerd reader#innocent reader#virginity#frat party#first time
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Sex Tutor
Summary: Harry's got a reputation on campus and you're curious to know if he can help you.
A/N: Requested! Thank y'all for being patient with me! Hope you enjoy! This will be 2 parts!!
Word Count: 10k
Warning: smut (oral sex), fluff, praise kink
. . .
“Yeah… that was good. I liked it.”
That wasn’t the reaction you were hoping to get. You thought Gunther would be a lot more enthusiastic after coming in your mouth and you swallowing him down. You gave it your best work. You even choked a couple of times and you did hear him moan once or twice. But that didn’t feel like enough
You wanted to ask him exactly what went wrong. Tips on what he liked and didn’t. What you could do better next time… But instead, he just smiled and kissed your cheek, avoiding your mouth because obviously kissing the lips that had just sucked his cock would be gross.
So you left his dorm feeling a little disappointed in yourself. Annoyed really. You wished you were more bold and could just ask him what he wanted, what he liked most. You complained to your roommate even. She loved giving advice so you were always venting to her.
“Well, you know there’s like this guy on campus who will walk you through that kind of thing… a sex tutor if you will. Let’s just say that he comes highly recommended. I know someone who hung out with him a few times, and she learned so much about her body and how good sex could feel without coming but he always made her come every time, and no man has ever done that to her before she told me.”
“A tutor for blow jobs?” You scrunched your face and giggled.
“Well, blow jobs and everything else really. I don’t know. He gets around and they say he’s very knowledgeable about the body and sex. I think he’s like getting his masters in sexual health or something?”
You shoved at her shoulder and laughed, “Oh my god I don’t think so. That sounds crazy. He’s probably some weird pervert or something.”
Your roommate turned her cellphone screen to face you, showing you an Instagram page with a photo of a very attractive young man you’d seen on campus a time or two.
“That’s him?” Your eyes widened as you looked from the photo to your roommate.
“Yup. He’s not a weirdo either. I hear he’s super respectful and smart. Plus the bonus is that he looks like this.”
You nodded. That certainly was a bonus. Harry Styles. You knew about him from the student council. He did a lot of volunteering on campus and he was a graduate student so you didn’t know him all that well, being only a sophomore yourself, but it was hard not to at least know the name and the face. He was popular. Clearly far more popular than you even realized.
And you definitely weren’t going to reach out for a “session”. That just felt silly. Though, you couldn’t say you weren’t intrigued by the idea, it just wasn’t for you. Except that when Gunther didn’t text or call you back for three full days, the whole time you wondered if your blow job was that bad. So when he did finally text you back to make plans for the following week, you felt like you were being given another chance to prove how good you could be. And maybe a lesson or two could be useful.
Reaching out to him via DMs on Instagram felt so unserious but you still did it. You cringed as you hit send and read over your message three times.
Hi! I heard you give special “tutoring” sessions and wanted to know if you have some time to meet with me to set something up? Let me know if it’s okay.
You couldn’t believe you were doing this, reaching out to a stranger for, basically, a booty call. But apparently he was used to it and had no qualms about responding to you in less than thirty minutes. As if he was running some kind of business.
Hi! Happy to meet up with you either tonight or Friday night. The initial meeting should only take like 20 minutes, somewhere public so you feel comfortable. I’ll ask you a few questions and then we’ll set up a private one-on-one session together if it makes sense for both of us. No pressure ever. Whenever you’re ready.
Private one-on-one session. You rolled your eyes as you read over Harry’s response.
Tonight is good for me if you can fit me in. Whatever time you want.
You didn’t know what to expect. You imagined he was cocky since he was apparently so good and sought after. Perhaps he would take one look at you and turn around. You were sure he had a say in who he “tutored”. Doubted he took on every single person who reached out to him.
Your roommate said he was respectful but you would place money on the fact that he was probably full of himself, being that he was a self-proclaimed Sex Guru. You were preparing yourself for someone with a larger-than-life personality.
You kept your outfit casual, not wanting to look like you were trying too hard. Jeans and a hoodie. Though you did shower and put on nice panties and made sure you smelled good. Just in case. One never knows when they are due to visit with a sex tutor.
Maud’s was one of your favorite spots on campus. They had the best iced matcha latte and that’s just what you ordered yourself when you arrived. You sat down at a small table and faced toward the door so you could keep an eye out.
You were looking down at your cell phone when you heard the chime of the door. Flitting your eyes up and away from the screen of your phone you scanned the entry and spotted him right away.
He was wearing a black pullover hoodie and jeans. His hair all tousled like he’d just finished a “tutoring” session. You raised your hand to wave at him and catch his attention and he grinned as you stood up but he gestured for you to stay seated, “I’ll be right back. Just gonna order a drink.”
You were already feeling hot and embarrassed. God, what were you doing? The man was sex on legs and that deep, raspy voice he just spoke to you with had your insides twisting and turning all mushy.
When he returned he had an iced tea and he sat across from you. The smile on his face was kind. Open. It set you at ease a bit.
He took a sip through his straw and you noted the rings on his fingers and the nail polish on his nails, “So, Y/n. It’s nice to meet you in person. What are you majoring in?”
Okay. Small talk. You could handle that.
You told him your classes and what you were majoring in and then asked him the same and when he explained he was going for his doctorate in psychology with the intent to become a sex therapist you felt your heart thump wildly. He was gorgeous and going for a doctorate. The man was so beyond out of your league that you wondered why he was even sitting at that table with you entertaining this silly request of yours.
“Wow. That’s… I’m impressed.”
He grinned and you saw a dimple carve into his cheek, “Thank you. I’ve worked really hard to get where I am. Still working, though. So let’s talk about what you want. What things are you interested in getting some guidance on?”
Here it was. The moment you’d been dreading. But also what you were most curious about.
“Well, I’m seeing this guy and,” you took a breath. It was embarrassing to say it so casually at a café on campus of all places.
Harry reached toward you and placed his warm palm over the top of yours, “Hey, I know this feels weird. Doing this. I’m not going to pressure you to say it if you find it’s too uncomfortable but just know,” he dipped his head down to meet your gaze with his brows gently raised, “Everything you tell me here will be kept confidential and private. I’m not going to make fun of you or compare you to anyone else. If you change your mind, that’s okay too. I want you to feel like you’re talking to a friend. Okay? It’s up to you how much or how little you say. We move at your pace.”
You let out the breath you were holding and smiled. He was so – nice. He made you feel so at ease.
“Thank you. It’s weird. Yeah… but I think I’m okay. I want to do this. I want to be better at like,” you looked around yourself and lowered your voice as Harry moved his hand from yours and you settled your gaze back on his, “Better at giving blow jobs. And maybe like initiating more?”
He nodded, “Okay. Have you ever given a blow job before?”
You nodded, “Recently. The guy didn’t seem very enthusiastic about it so I didn’t know if I did something wrong.”
He took a sip of his tea and his green irises bored into yours, “I can tell you one thing I know that is true for nearly every single male I know; they love getting head. Even if he wasn’t vocal he probably really enjoyed whatever you did. Does that make you feel better about your skill level?”
You puffed out a laugh and saw the smirk on his face. He was trying to get you to smile, “I don’t know. Probably. I’m sure I’m overthinking it but I just wanted… like I want to be really good. Want to know tricks to get a real response.”
“Did the guy you’re seeing orgasm?”
You nodded again.
Harry’s grin softened, “Then you did as good as you could have. Goal achieved. He orgasmed and you made that happen.”
“But I want to be better. Like… I really enjoyed what I was doing. Made me really… well…” you looked down at your empty mug and sighed, “I felt like I enjoyed it more than he did.”
He nodded and licked his lips and if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was kind of checking you out. You weren’t wearing anything revealing but he seemed to keep dropping his gaze to your lips and neck. But you figured that was because he was still getting used to your face and he was sussing you out a bit to see if he wanted anything to do with you beyond this conversation.
But that was true. He was checking you out. He saw your Instagram pictures before he contacted you (always his first step) and thought you were cute and wouldn’t mind seeing you in person. He certainly wasn't disappointed by you when he saw you either. You were cute and a little nervous and when you started talking about how you enjoyed giving that loser a blow job he couldn’t help but shift his eyes down to your mouth and imagine what your lips would look like on his cock. He wondered if you’d be just as eager to suck him off as you seemed like you were for the other guy.
Now, Harry was a polite and nice man. He was as respectful as they came. But he was still a man with a very high sex drive and he couldn’t help it. He did enjoy having sex and he got a lot of ass because he was good at what he did. And he was under no allusion that it also didn’t have anything to do with how attractive he was. Because of course, it did. He was aware of the way women looked at him and all the whispers about him on campus. And most of the time the sessions were just fun sex more than anything else. However, he happily gave guidance when needed.
And this time he was feeling pretty gung-ho to see what you could do. He’d like to get started right away, which normally he’d wait until after the initial meeting before jumping into it but there was something about the way you were looking at him, your eyes hungry and inviting…
You watched Harry shift in his chair and look around the café before he looked back at you, “What are you doing right now? Like after this?”
“Oh… nothing. Was gonna read a little, prep for a test I have on Monday. But…” you shook your head.
“Would you be interested in going somewhere more private? My studio is at the off-campus university apartments. Twenty-minute walk from here.”
Was he…? You scrunched your brows, confused at the sudden invite to his place.
“It’s up to you. I’m not rushing you or anything I just have a free evening and you seem really enthusiastic and I’d like to kind of get a feel for what we’re working with. If you think you’re ready.”
You nodded, “Okay. I mean… yeah. So no roommates?” You laughed nervously as he stood up and it was the first time you let your attention fall to the space at his crotch, to which you quickly bobbed your eyes back up to his face as you stood.
“Nope. Co-ed apartments. No roommate. Super private.” He didn’t miss the way you scraped your eyes over his torso and down to the spot on his jeans where his zipper was.
So that was that then. You’d be getting a lesson sooner than you imagined. And when you walked the twenty minutes through campus and the street that was just adjacent to the cafeteria you could almost hear your heart pounding. He was taller than you expected. He easily kept the conversation alive with small talk. He seemed so confident and easygoing. You tried to let that charisma and charm soak through your veins so that you weren’t as nervous as you felt, but it was impossible. You were about to go into Harry Style’s apartment alone and probably give him a blow job.
Harry waved at a few people on your way up to his floor. He was clearly popular. You wondered if anyone knew what might be happening. Why you were with him and why you were following behind him like you were a pup being trained and he was carrying a treat.
“Here she is,” he opened his door and gestured for you to walk inside. Neat and tidy with stacks of books and lots of plants. Some plants hanging, most potted, and on the floor or on tables. You noted he had no television and that there was a big partition that separated the small living space from what was probably where he had his bed. The kitchen was organized with open shelving and he’d bought a wire rack and it was stacked full of packaged foods, spices, oil, and other things to cook with at the top and at the bottom with pots and pans and a blender with its cord neatly wrapped around the base.
He excused himself to the bathroom while you looked around. There wasn’t anywhere to go really. There were two doors in the whole place. The bathroom door and another one, which you assumed was a closet. The kitchen area was open to the small living space.
When Harry emerged he sat down on the couch, which looked well-worn. You wondered how many people he’d had over and on that very couch. He sat with his legs spread and drew his arms over the back of the couch and just watched as you stepped in closer toward the small coffee table, “I like all the plants,” you commented.
He nodded and you clasped your hands behind your back in wait for what would happen next. You didn’t want to look again at his crotch. But the way he was sitting made it hard. He took up so much space on that couch and with his legs spread open like they were, it was almost as if he wanted you to.
“Gonna sit with me? I’m not gonna do anything if you don’t want.”
You nodded and sat down, keeping your limbs close to your body and separate from him. You didn’t want to invade his space or get in too close. Not yet anyway. Not until he invited you. Or rather, until he told you what to do next.
“Everything I said at Maud’s still stands. If you change your mind that’s fine. I’m not going to be mad.”
You turned to look at him and swallowed. The guy was out of this world. Simply delicious looking. “Okay.” You spoke in barely above a whisper.
Harry leaned forward, putting his elbows over his knees as he kept his eyes on you, “Is this how you usually initiate?”
You raised your brows and shook your head, “What?”
“You said you wanted to be better at initiating. So far, I’m not getting any signals that you’re interested. Could be your first problem. Try relaxing a little, Y/n. Sit back and unhook your fingers. Loosen your shoulders. Not only will you feel more settled, but you’ll make the person with you feel better too. Which could push you to naturally begin conversation or movements that encourage contact.”
“Oh. Okay,” you sat back into his couch and loosed your hands, relaxing your posture, and looked at him, “Like this?”
Harry grinned and let out a small laugh, “Perfect. Now at least it appears you’re not scared of me.”
“I’m not scared,” you quickly shook your head.
“I didn’t think you were. But your body language was giving closed-off signals. Which could appear to some like fear or discomfort.”
It made sense you guessed.
“I see. So, relax and it makes everyone feel better.”
He grinned, “So tell me what normally happens when you’re with someone and it leads to something sexual. Set the scene for me.”
You cleared your throat and decided to use your last time with Gunther as the example.
“Well, we were in his dorm room listening to music and laughing about something–“
“Back up a little. Did you invite yourself to his room? Did he invite you? What happened before you got to his room?”
“Oh, uh…” you pursed your lips in thought. “Well, we were out with two mutual friends. At a bar. Gunther, his name is Gunther, he was kind of flirting with me and I liked it. We didn’t really know each other all that well before but I always found him interesting. And so… he was flirting with me. Complimenting me. Things like that. Then he asked me to go back to his room with him. So, I sort of figured something would happen,” you shrugged. You didn’t know why it was so weird telling him all those details but it was.
You recounted how Gunther had made all the moves; kissed you first, groped you and then somehow it ended up with you sucking him off while he laid back on his bed and you were between his legs.
“And… he didn’t return the favor? Like you didn’t get anything?”
You shook your head, “I mean, I didn’t ask. He got off and then that was it really. I left not long after.”
Harry frowned, “Okay. And did you hope he’d do something in return? Like, use his hands or his mouth on you? Did you want more?”
Another shrug of your shoulders, “I mean… I didn’t expect it. Thought maybe next time we could do more? I don’t know.”
“You didn’t expect it. But would you have liked it?”
Nodding your head you looked away from his eyes, “I guess.”
“Did it turn you on?”
Another embarrassing thing to admit to someone you hardly knew. You nodded again, “It just all happened really quickly. I kind of thought things would take longer and we’d chat and maybe he’d have me stay longer and then… well anyway. It was like a total of thirty minutes or something that I was in his room.”
Harry sighed and crossed his leg over his thigh toward you, “And you really want to give Gunther the best head you can? The guy who wasn’t worried about your own needs? Seems very selfless of you, Y/n.”
You let out a breath and laughed, “I know. I just want to be good at it. And that was the first time we did anything so I figured I’d give him a pass.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you. Gunther is lucky you’re still willing to give him another shot.”
“I guess I thought if I was better he’d want to do it more and maybe then we could do other things too.”
“I’m going to be honest, Y/n,” Harry stretched his arm across the back of the couch, “You’re very cute and you probably won’t need to worry much about initiating most of the time. Like, for me, all you have to do is look at me with those pretty eyes and I’m ready to do whatever you want me to.”
It had been a surprise to hear that. You weren’t sure what to do with that information but you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you looked down at your lap.
“But a good start is to keep eye contact. At least enough to indicate interest. Can you look at me?”
Lifting your gaze to his he grinned, “There we go. So pretty.”
You shook your head, “I’m sure you say that to everyone.”
Harry lifted his hand to your cheekbone, “No. I don’t. And I don’t do this with just anyone either. Sometimes I turn down a request. I don’t tell them why but… There’s gotta be attraction on my end as well. And I find you very attractive, Y/n.”
You swallowed down the saliva in your throat and blinked for a break in eye contact before biting your lip.
“Now, even though we’re here for one thing, I do have opinions on matters of the heart and relationships. And frankly, I have to be honest about this Gunther, guy,” he dropped his hand, making his fingers brush down your cheek until he was no longer touching you, “I don’t like that he didn’t offer to get you off too. That’s a big red flag in my book. I feel it’s important to give and to receive unless it’s explicitly stated at the beginning. But you told me you thought you’d get more. And that bothers me.”
“Well, he’s a nice guy. I think he just wasn’t thinking…”
“He wasn’t thinking about your needs. That was selfish of him and something to watch out for. We can give him a pass for the first time, but if you see him again and he still doesn’t think about your needs, I’d hope you’d end that relationship and seek someone who’s willing to be less selfish with you.”
It surprised you that Harry was saying that about Gunther. But perhaps he was right. You did leave his dorm that night quite disappointed.
“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I know you barely know me but that’s just my take. I’d never not offer to return the favor,” he kept his eyes on yours and you swore his lips were suddenly a shade darker. They looked like the perfect lips to kiss.
He grinned when he noted where your eyes were homed in on, “Do you mind coming closer? Feels like you're still too far away.”
You puffed out a nervous laugh as you scooted your bottom in closer toward Harry. His arm was draped over the back of the couch behind you and you felt the warmth of him before you felt his fingers graze the back of your neck.
“So, I can kiss you? Can we start there?”
You breathed out through your nose and smiled as you nodded and kept your face angled toward his. He watched as you hesitantly put your palm on his knee and he put his hand over yours, “You’re a natural. See?”
Another soft laugh fell from your mouth as Harry’s face drew in closer to yours and your heart stopped as he nudged his nose into yours and you felt his soft lips smush against yours.
It didn’t take long for you to start feeling that familiar heat between your legs as he ran his tongue against yours. It felt so intimate… not like a tutor lesson or anything of the sort. It was you and a handsome man making out on his couch as he pulled you onto his lap. It felt real.
For some reason, you imagined it being a little more dry. Like a real lesson. Like he’d pull his pants down and tell you what to do and show you what he liked and what really made men go wild. You hadn’t imagined kissing being part of the equation for some reason.
“Did he tell you how soft your lips are or how those sweet little noises coming from your mouth drove him crazy?”
He spoke his words between kisses and you were going to pass out. Because no, Gunther gave you no compliments once you got into his dorm room.
You shook your head as you parted from the kiss, your eyes on his.
Harry’s eyes roved your face as he softly dragged his thumb back and forth on your jaw, “I don’t like him one bit. You deserve someone who’s going to tell you how good you are and how good you make them feel.”
He softly pressed his lips against yours again, the kiss heating up into a frenzied pace once again as you stuffed your fingers into his hair and then you felt the bulk of his erection under your thigh when you moved in closer.
Parting from the kiss you looked down and then back up at him and he just smiled. Like it was the most normal and natural thing ever. Which… it kind of was.
“Got me all hard already,” he slid his thumb from the edge of your bottom lip inward and you moaned, “Just like that. You’re already better than you think you are. You’re driving me crazy, Y/n. I want to see what these lips look like wrapped around my cock. Can we do that?”
You nodded and began to move off of him but Harry took your hand in his, making you pause, “I’ll let you get me off if you let me get you off too. Okay?”
Your eyes widened, “Really? I thought this was just for–“
“I have a method and it always includes getting the other person off too. Or at least making them feel good. Unless you don’t want that. That’s okay too, but I would prefer to touch you as well.”
“Okay,” your words were breathy as he helped you off his lap, keeping your hand in his but then he stood up and you watched as he ran his free hand over his crotch, “Is it okay if we do it my bed? A little more space there. Think it’ll feel less rushed.”
Obviously yes. You wouldn’t dream of saying no to this man. Not that you wanted to.
The space behind the partition was just a bed and one side table. His bed was neatly made and there was a plant hanging by the opening of the partition. He gestured for you to follow him onto his mattress and he placed his back at the wall, where he had no headboard.
Kneeing up to him you were feeling shy again and he leaned forward and cupped your face with one hand, “You’re doing so good. If you need to stop at any time just say the word. I’m not here to make you do something you don’t want. Okay?”
You nodded, “Yeah. I know. I trust you.”
“Good. Just wanted to remind you is all. I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep going even if I’m enjoying it, which I have a feeling I’m gonna like whatever you do to me.”
You giggled and nodded. He was fluffing up your ego and you hadn’t even really gotten started yet.
Harry started to push his jeans down, lifted his hips to get them off his legs, and then kept his eyes on you as he held his hand out for you to take, “Come here.”
You put your hand in his and let yourself get pulled between his legs as you looked down at the sizable lump under his boxer briefs, “Can we take your jeans off? Kind of want to have you in my lap a little while before we get down to it, yeah?”
You nodded and unhooked your button before pulling your zipper down. Harry’s hands found your hips as you tugged your jeans down and he helped you out of them, leaving you in just your hoodie and panties. Like Harry. He was just in his boxer briefs and his hoodie too.
You crawled into his lap, your thighs straddling his, and sat down as Harry smoothed his hands up and down your thighs, “There we go. This feels nice, having you close like this,” he ran his palms toward your bottom and then back down your thighs to your knees, “How are you feeling?”
You put your palms on his shoulders, “Good. Feel good. And you?”
“I’m feeling great. I’ve got you here in my lap,” he brought a hand up from your thigh to your face, his fingers sliding behind your ear with his thumb at your cheekbone, “And I like you. I think this’ll be fun. Just want you to feel at ease with me.”
You shifted on his lap, getting in closer, “I do feel at ease with you, Harry. You’re really nice.”
“Good. That’s what I want to hear,” his voice was soft as he gently pulled you towards him and pressed his mouth against yours again. His kiss was soft and sultry. Harry was far more sensual than you imagined he would be. Lots of soft touches and reassuring words. And his mouth against yours was addictive.
You moaned when his thumb ran along the edge of your panties at your thigh and you rocked your hips down, pressing your panties-covered pussy over his erection.
He inhaled softly through his teeth and lowered his mouth to your neck where you were melted into him. His warm mouth sponged wet kisses down your pulse point as you lowered a hand to the top of his cock.
He sighed when you began to rub your palm over him and you began to move back. You were ready to get him in your mouth.
“You can bring me out if you want. Or I can do it. Whichever you’re more comfortable with.”
You bit your lip and continued palming over him as you kept your gaze focused on his, “I’ll do it. Do guys like that more?”
He grinned and the dimples that carved into his cheeks had you swooning, “Yeah. Maybe. Depends on the guy but it can feel like the girl is really excited, like she can’t wait – the enthusiasm is nice. For me? I do like it more. But honestly, I wouldn’t complain if you wanted me to do it myself.”
You nodded in understanding as you focused on the dark green material of his underwear and reached toward the waistband. You looked up at him once more to check in and he just gave you a singular nod to keep going so you did.
The material was warm and stretchy. And you loved the way it felt to run your palm up the length of him, before peeling the fabric away and slowly revealing his cock. His tip was thick and smooth and dark pink. And then his shaft was girthy, quite meaty really, but so stiff. And when you’d pulled his underwear down far enough you took the whole of him in and it was… well it was a bit overwhelming. There was no way on God’s green earth you’d be able to stick that whole thing in your mouth.
“You don’t have to have it all in there. This isn’t a porno. I don’t need you to choke on it or anything like that. Use your hands and your mouth, as long as it’s nice and wet it’s gonna feel really good.”
You nodded. It was a relief that he wasn’t expecting you to deepthroat that thing, “Do you like it when someone can take it all the way?”
Harry breathed a laugh out of his nostrils, “Well… only if the person giving head likes that kind of thing. I would never enjoy it if someone wasn’t into that. But yes. I do rather like it. Not more than any other type of blow job, though.”
You gulped and continued palmed at his length softly. Harry kept his eyes on you to watch how you’d do it. To see what your go-to move was and when you made no move he finally spoke, “Go in however you want. Let’s see how you normally go about giving a blow job.”
“Okay. Yeah…” You took a deep breath and lowered yourself down as he fixed his feet flat on the mattress with knees bent upward, making space for you to fit between his thighs. First, you spat over his tip and used your hand to rub your saliva down his shaft. A quick glance up at him and he looked like he was enjoying it.
After spitting another glob over his slit that clung to your lips a little longer than it did the first time things were feeling much wetter. You stroked along the full length of his cock, from base to tip, tip to base, and back again as you lowered further, getting your lips just over his tip, and looked up at him, swiping your tongue over his crown. Smooth and warm. Adjusting your hips you got into a better position and gripped his base with both hands as you began to take him in your mouth. Your tongue cupped the underside of his cock as you dipped down and pulled up, suckling at his tip before repeating.
Harry’s fingers gently pushed at your chin, “I’d like you to do one thing for me, Y/n…” your eyes shot up to his, “Can you keep your eyes on me, just like you’re doing right now?”
You pulled off and nodded, “Yeah. Sorry.”
Harry tutted at you, “You didn’t do anything wrong. Just really fond of your pretty eyes. Personal preference is all.”
Keeping your gaze on his you kissed his tip softly and slowly before tonguing at his frenulum. It was a good thing you were looking at him in that moment because the expression on his face as you ran your tongue along the underside of his cockhead was lascivious and the sudden heat between you two might not have been noticed if you hadn’t been looking at him.
When you lowered your lips over him again, hollowing your cheeks and cupping the underside of his dick with your tongue, he palmed over your cheek and softly thumbed at your temple, “Y/n… fuck… that’s really good. Keep looking at me like this pretty girl.”
The soft touch from his hand and thumb on your face was full of affection and made your heart thunder in your chest. It made you dizzy the way he was looking at you. It was such a lewd act but somehow filled with tenderness.
The drool that leaked out of your mouth and down his shaft allowed your hands to slip around his base, twisting as you bobbed over the first bit of him with your mouth. It seemed like he was really enjoying what you were doing. Having your eyes on him while you were doing it felt more encouraging than embarrassing.
And Harry was very much enjoying what you were doing. He wasn’t all that picky when it came to getting blow jobs. Why would he be? Some hot girl wanted him to show her how to be better? Well, he rarely did much in the way of making someone any better than they already were.
Harry never intended to be known as a sex tutor or a sex guru. He was just a guy who loved sex. A guy who was patient and who really did care about the person he was with, even if it was just a one-time thing (which most of them were). And his line of studies gave him insight many lacked. The more he slept around (safely) the better he got and the more he understood. He put into practice the things he learned in his classes and when he was a Junior after a string of hookups with a group of very popular seniors he started to get a reputation.
It started with comments and discussions on the size of his cock. Then it eventually escalated to him being very good in bed. And how he could always make a woman come (he didn’t always make them come but he certainly tried and he learned the art of allowing sex to just be something that felt good and intimate and didn’t have to end in that elusive orgasm every time).
The first girl who was bold enough to ask him if he’d help her get to know her body better, had told him how she heard he was the best… and that had caught off guard. But he gave it a go. And he wound up enjoying the whole thing so much that when another girl asked him for help he decided there was no harm in going along with it.
He wasn’t trying to take advantage of anyone, as some jealous of his prowess would make it seem. No, he just really wanted to help, he loved that connection and to have it end with sex (in whatever form) was never a bad thing. Mostly he was just having fun and if he could use some of his knowledge and give someone confidence by the end of a “session” then so be it.
When you sucked around him, slurping noises came from between your lips and the skin on his shaft and he moaned, “Oh that’s good…” He gently placed a hand at the back of your neck and nudged his hips upward the slightest when he felt his cock start to throb and balls tightened.
Harry pulled at you to bring you up so you slid your lips from his tip and looked at him with pretty rounded eyes as you sat on your knees.
“You’re perfect. If I had you sucking me off like this every day I’d have no complaints. That’s the work of someone who’s into it and I can tell you are. Got me so close to coming already,” he took your hand and kissed the tops of your knuckles. Yeah, you were already smitten with him. But maybe that was just because you liked his praise so much.
“Thank you,” you grinned shyly.
Harry took the hand he kissed and brought it down between his legs, sliding your fingers on the underside of his balls, “There’s this spot right here. Kind of smooth. Feel that?”
You nodded.
“It’s called the perineum. This spot,” he pressed the pad of your middle finger over the area of skin, “Feels really good when you rub it gently. Especially while you’re also giving a blow job. Maybe take my balls in your palm a little to massage them and then move to the perineum. Just about any man you suck off is gonna absolutely love it. It’s also a really good trick when you just want the guy to come already, ‘cause maybe he’s taking too long,” he grinned.
He dragged your hand up to cup his scrotum and you kept your eyes on his as you softly squeezed. Harry’s brows narrowed and his lips parted, “Let’s do that yeah? Wanna give it a go?”
Nodding, you lowered yourself again, your lips parting around his crown as you gently massaged his balls and kept your eyes angled up toward his. You kept one hand at the base of his shaft and felt the full, warmth of his sac in your palm before you pulled off of his cock and dropped your lips down to his balls, kissing the skin all around and skimming your tongue through every crevice and wrinkle, wetting him on all sides.
You remembered you were supposed to be looking up at him and when you saw his face it only egged you on. His soft groan and pink puffy lips parted in lust with hooded eyes so you wound your tongue down further and pressed the tip of your wet muscle to the spot he called the perineum.
“Fuck! Yes…”
You liked that reaction. So you did it again and used your hand on his shaft to continue pumping him in long strokes as you pressed over the small strip of skin under his scrotum before you brought your tongue all the way up over his balls and to his base. The pre-come dripping from his tip made things wetter as you slid your palm over him.
You kept one finger on his perineum and then brought your mouth back over his cock and the desperate whimper that fell from his lungs made you feel giddy. You sucked him in and flicked your sight up to him but his eyes were closed. You could feel his legs trembling as your shoulder was pressed into his inner thigh. Gently you brought your hand over his scrotum and massaged as you worked his tip with your lips and tongue.
He placed both of his hands on either side of your head, “Y/n… yes… honey I’m gonna come. That’s so good. You’re so good for me… holy shit… where do you want me to come, huh?”
You were kind of amazed at how he was so melty and whimpery from the blow job you were giving him. You lifted and looked up at him, “Just come in my mouth. Want you to feel good.”
He nodded as he panted and you put your lips back on him, lowering down and sucking as you used your tongue to apply pressure to his crown. Continuing to play with his balls and peek up at him you saw the moment his face scrunched up and his lips dropped open wide. No sound came out at first but you tasted the first pump of his come down your throat and then felt his big cock throbbing against your tongue and it was the hottest blow job you’d ever given. And you weren’t even receiving… the reaction he gave you had you so turned on and so dizzy that you felt the need to take him deeper.
You forced yourself down further, feeling his tip nudging and spurting at the top part of your throat and you swallowed around him before sputtering slightly.
When he finally began to moan it was deep and throaty. His head was tilted back, facing the ceiling as he pumped into your mouth and down your throat. The hands he held at the side of your face were gentle and honestly? You were in heaven. You could do this with him every day if he let you.
And you tried not comparing Gunther to Harry but it was hard. Harry was so masculine and his cock was prettier and much bigger. With Gunther, you could almost take all of him in your mouth without much issue. You didn’t but you probably could have. Harry was a different story. His big cock filled up all the space in your mouth and he smelled so good too. It was a mix of what you assumed was his natural smell with a clean powdery soap.
But it was the moans Harry was making that had you feeling so worked up. He really enjoyed your blow job and that was all you needed to feel good about yourself and your ability.
Harry’s moan quieted into a simper as you continued dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock until he lulled his head forward and looked down at you, “S’good. Fuck that was good.” He prodded at you to bring your mouth off of him and you sat back with a proud smile.
He leaned forward to pull at the back of your neck and smash his lips against yours. You clung onto his shoulders as he positioned you next to him on the bed on your bottom and then he ran his hands down your sides and pulled at your sweater, “Can we get this off?”
You gripped the bottom hem of your hoodie as Harry sat back and peeled his sweater off over his head, making you pause so you could devour his chest and his arms, and his abs with your eyes. The tattoos that were scattered over his body and on his arms were no surprise. You’d heard through the grapevine about his tattoos once your roommate told you about him. And you heard he was fit. But this? He was the perfect amount of muscled and beefy. He was lean but he appeared well-fed. Broad shoulders, pecs you could bite into…
You gulped when you felt Harry’s big hands smoothing up and down your limbs as he absorbed the sight of you before you finally pulled your sweater off and then unhooked your bra, holding the cups up against your breasts for a moment to make sure he was still in it. Because maybe your body would be a complete turn off but his expressive face did all the talking and he moved his hands up your hips as his irises roamed over your skin.
“So pretty, Y/n,” he spoke like he knew you needed the reassurance. Which you did. So you slowly lowered your bra and pulled the straps from your arms and almost immediately Harry ducked down and kissed your right nipple while his hand palmed at your left tit. He moaned against your soft flesh and you felt cool air hit your skin in the path where his tongue laved against you.
A soft gasp fell from your lips when he wrapped his mouth over your nipple and looked up at you from his spot, pink lips suckling at your breast. It was almost as if he needed to make sure he was doing what you liked. As if the man wasn’t some kind of expert.
Harry’s bulky body moved over you and his hands brushed over the skin at your sides and down to your hips where your panties clung tight. You lifted your hips, ready for him to take care of you, ready to have him pull the last bit of fabric from your body and Harry grinned at you.
“I’m gonna pull these down, okay?”
Nodding you laughed in slight nervousness. You weren’t sure when you’d gotten so eager but giving Harry a blow job had made you a bit insatiable and all of the nice things he said about you, how good you were... Your insides were aching and you knew you were probably already wet, the crotch of your panties was warm against your skin.
And as he slowly dragged the material down your legs he kept looking up at you. A little bit of reassurance that he was only going to go as far as you wanted.
Paying close attention to his eyes you watched him drag his gaze over all your crevices and then up to your tits and then your eyes as he licked his lips. He wrapped a hand on the underside of your calf, lifting your leg the smallest bit as he tucked himself in closer, his shoulders pressing into your thighs.
The warm, soft kisses he dotted on your inner thigh as he looked up at you made you feel worshiped. Like he was savoring the moment and was going to take his time with you.
“Y/n, I just want to make you feel good. Tell me if you don’t like something or if you need something more okay? Because you did so good for me and I’m gonna be dreaming about those lips on me. Just want to make you feel as good as good as you made me feel.”
Harry could tell you liked a bit of praise. A compliment here and there was easy enough to throw in because it was all true. You were very good and you were so pretty and now he was going to return the favor as best he could.
When you felt his tongue swipe up through your crease you moaned faintly as you kept your eyes on him. And when he dug in more, attached his lips to your pussy, and began sucking at you the groan that fell from his chest rumbled through your core and you held on to the back of his head as you arched your back off of the pillow under yourself. His lips slicked up and down, tongue pressing at your clit and then he moved, bringing his arm in and you felt his fingers prodding at your entrance as he looked up at you, pulling his mouth away from your pussy, “Tastes so good, Y/n. Could bury my face here all day long. You mind if I finger you a little? Would that feel good?”
He ran his digits through your folds like he already knew your answer and you nodded quickly, “Yeah. Okay. If you want.”
He grinned before you felt him push his middle finger past your opening and then he watched the face you made as he curled his finger up in your magic little spot. The one only your rabbit vibrator seemed to be able to hit.
You gasped and with that, he brought his lips back over your clit and got to work. His dark curls were smooth and thick between your fingers and the way he kept pulling his gaze up to yours as he licked into you was naughty. The whole scene was something from a dream. There was something so soft about how he kept his eyes on you to check-in.
You’d had a couple of guys go down on you before but they had no idea what they were doing and you weren’t sure if it was just supposed to feel like slippery nothing gliding over your labia or not. But now, with Harry doing the work… well you realized what it was actually meant to feel like. And Harry was not giving you slippery nothing.
He seemed to enjoy it as well which made your heart lurch in your chest. Especially with how he was moaning into you like you tasted good. And he had told you as much, which… that had you on edge already.
When Harry slid in a second finger he opened his mouth wide and tongued up from where his fingers were pumping into you to your clit.
You couldn’t help the pathetic moans that were loudly bouncing off the walls of his studio, “Oh god, Harry…”
But the thing that was really seeping into your skin and your veins and making your heart pound was his eyes on yours. You couldn’t get over it. It was so intimate and sexy and the gushy noises coming from your slippery pussy were lewd and dirty. It was the perfect juxtaposition of just nasty enough but also sweet and soft that had you spiraling.
When they tell you that the biggest part of getting turned on is all in the mind, that’s absolutely true. Harry was a master at it. You weren’t sure you’d ever been so turned on with any man before. He really knew which buttons to push and all the right things to say.
“Fuck, that’s good… holy shit, Harry…”
He loved hearing you whine his name and the feel of your hips bucking upward in tiny bursts. You were one of those girls that was going to have an orgasm, he just knew it. The way you kept getting wetter every time you shot your eyes down to his was a big telltale sign. Some didn’t like the eye contact but he loved it and so did you, clearly.
He moaned into your pussy and swallowed you down as he worked his tongue in teasing circles around your clit before wrapping his lips around you again and smushing down over you with just the right amount of pressure.
The arm he had under your thigh he wrapped under your lower back, pulling you in closer if that was possible, as he continued fingering you with his other hand. The man was unquenchable. Like he needed to stuff his face in as close as humanly possible. Like he needed to suck you dry and make it so that you never forgot his name.
Your insides were melting for him. His fingers were magic inside of you and it had your brain all fuzzed out and blurry. But the way he rolled your clit under his tongue was divine, otherworldly… he knew what he was doing with that big mouth of his.
You gasped and looked back down at him again and his eyes were already pinned to yours.
“Oh… gonna co… oh fuck, gonna come…” you felt like you were being lifted into the air, levitating and vibrating off the bed and out of the atmosphere as he kept his fingers and his tongue steady. But when he moaned deeply into your cunt, that low resonate sensation traveling from your clit to your core and through your tummy made you lose control.
You didn’t realize you were yanking his hair as your legs quaked and your body liquified under him. But it didn’t deter him. He watched you unravel, tits bouncing and back arching as you orgasmed into his mouth and he curled his fingers up against your g-spot as you clamped over his digits.
If he didn’t have his mouth occupied he would have praised you more in that moment. Told you how pretty you were and how good you did for him. But he waited until you began to slowly come back to earth before whispering into your ear the sweet things he knew you’d like to hear.
He laid next to you and grasped your face, kissing your lips softly as you sighed, “So fucking good. What a pretty orgasm that was, Y/n…” He spoke between kisses.
“Did that all for me? Yeah?”
You couldn’t answer him. Not in that moment. You’d just melted and dissolved and had only begun to re-solidify and become a real human with lungs and limbs and skin and pores again.
“You are really fun to eat out, Y/n. Tasted so nice and you sound so sexy when you come. You can call me anytime you need a release okay?” He continued kissing your cheek and your lips as he spoke softly.
Harry didn’t rush you out like you thought he might. He rubbed over your tummy and kissed your breasts softly and ran his lips up the side of your neck as you slowly opened your eyes and sighed.
“Feel okay?”
You nodded and smiled, “Really good.”
“Stay as long as you want. Okay? No rush. We can even grab dinner together if you want or I can make you something.” Harry wasn’t sure why he asked you that. While he didn’t usually rush anyone out, he didn’t typically offer food or dinner either. There was just something about you that compelled him to ask. Perhaps he hoped you’d stick around a bit longer.
You sat up, “Oh. That’s really nice of you. But… maybe I should probably head back. Get some schoolwork done.”
You’d have loved to stay for dinner but you also didn’t want to get your feelings mixed up for a guy like Harry. Not that there was anything wrong with him, but you understood what this was. A one-time thing. Something fun where you got to learn a thing or two. If you stuck around too long you’d probably just want more. And that would only end in heartbreak for you. Because Harry was kind of the ideal guy in a lot of ways.
“Of course. Just thought I’d ask.”
There were no hard feelings for this kind of thing. Harry wasn’t offended that you didn’t want to stay. He’d had a good time with you and he was almost certain you had a good time as well. And that was just about all one could ask for.
Harry let you use his bathroom to clean up and get dressed. And as you did so you thought about how Gunther didn’t even offer you anything to eat or to stay after. In fact he didn’t even ask if you wanted to use his bathroom, when that would have been nice after giving him head. Because even though Gunther didn’t really touch you, you were still wet, and walking back to your dorm with wet panties was not a nice feeling. Especially when you didn’t even get anything out of it.
You’d be wary of Gunther. You’d give him another shot because you were a nice girl but you weren’t going to ignore the concerns Harry had. Perhaps Harry was right.
When you stepped out of the bathroom Harry handed you a glass of water, “Drink a little before you head out, and what dorm do you live in?” He looked down at his phone as he asked.
“Oh… uh the Millennium dorms near the arts building.”
He nodded as you took a gulp of the water and he showed you his phone, “Uber will be here for you in three minutes. I’ll walk you down, okay?”
“Wait. You didn’t have to do that! Um… I can walk or get an Uber myself it’s–“
He shook his head and grinned, “I know I didn’t have to but it’s getting late. Don’t want you walking twenty minutes by yourself. Who knows what could be lurking out there,” he laughed.
You pointed at him, “Fine. But I’m gonna pay you back. Next time I see you okay?”
“Not necessary. Now come on,” he playfully swatted at your bottom and directed you toward his door, “Let’s go downstairs and wait for…” he looked at his phone, “Rebecca in a white Trail Blazer.”
PART 2 COMING SOON
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Kinktober Day 13: Size - Tutor!Miguel x AFAB!Reader 🎃
can you tell i hate my math class this sem ?? :D
CW: unspecified age gap (reader is in college miguel is in grad school), trauma inducing stats vocabulary, piv (unprotected don’t be stupid), creampie (don’t be stupid), mean miguel, harsh grabbing, fingering (kinda), finger sucking, general size difference.
18+ MDNI
It was getting late, you and your roommates Machi and Gale having dinner with you. You huffed, slumping in the chair you sat on.
“This is such bullshit, I’ve been stuck on this problem for like half an hour already. Nothing’s clicking.” You pushed your dinner aside and looked at Gale for reassurance. She tilted her head at you with a raised brow.
“Girl, you know damn well I’m not getting it either. Just call it quits for tonight, it's not due for another two days.” She said, sipping a chilled can of coke.
“Oh, come on. Neither of us are understanding this shit. I mean, this symbol looks like a backwards three! I miss when math used to just have numbers,” you complained, squinting at the statistics homework in front of you.
“That looks ridiculous,” Machi laughed. “Never have I been more glad to be an arts major.” She said, getting up to put her dish away.
“If it bothers you that much, why don’t you just visit the tutoring lab? I think they’re still open.” Gale said, grabbing your dish and following Machi to the sink.
“Really?” You asked, checking your watch. 8 pm.
“Hey, we pay thousands of dollars in tuition, okay? If they can’t stay open or help when students need it what's the point in taking all that money from us?” Gale shrugged. You sighed, standing up from your chair.
“Well, I guess I better get moving if I want to make it to the tutoring center before 10. Let me know if you guys need anything while I’m out.” You grabbed your keys and left the apartment after grabbing your bag and slipping your shoes back on.
_____________________________________________________
You arrived at the building, glass doors sliding open as you walked through them, the cold air conditioning giving you goosebumps. You walked over to the sign in sheet, looking through available tutors for the next hour or so.
“Crap…” You sighed, looking through the sheets. It seemed like you needed an appointment before hand, at least electronically.
There was the sound of laughter down the hall, you turned your head towards the sound. There was a much larger man along with a guy who seemed about your age. You recognized the shorter individual from your statistics class.
“Well, I’m glad we could get your problem figured out.” The tall man said, a big hand patting the younger guy's back heavily.
“Yeah, it only took us all night.” More laughter.
“Hey, if its due in two days all night is nothing.” The tall, tanned man said. He was massive, you could practically see his muscles bulging underneath his white buttoned shirt. His chocolate hair slicked back, a few strands messily framing his face. You were in a trance when his almost red eyes met yours. You felt your face flush.
“U-Uh, Hey! You’re in my statistics class arent you?” You asked the shorter guy, desperately avoiding the older mans gaze. The shorter guy said your name questioningly, you nodded.
“Yeah, thats me.” You said, clutching your bag tighter. “So… you got help with the homework?” You asked, motioning to the taller man.
“Oh yeah, this is Miguel.” He said, patting Miguels back.
“Hi, nice to meet you.” You said, grabbing his large hand and shaking it. You felt your palms become sweatier, his hand practically enveloping yours. “I didn’t see your name under the statistics sign up sheet.” You said, voice almost trembling.
“Well as a grad student my major is scientific research so that's why I’m not under statistics.” He said, a slight smirk across his face, his grip on your hand becoming tighter.
“O-oh,” you said softly.
“But I use statistics in almost everything I do, so I can help out with any problems you’ve got if you need it.”
“Miguel’s not a bad tutor, it only took us so long to finish cause I haven’t shown up to class in weeks.” Your classmate laughed. “I’ve got to get out of here but thanks for your help, man.” He waved before walking out the sliding doors into the dark night.
You and Miguel turned to each other, you suddenly felt very nervous.
“So… Would you… tutor me?” You asked, rubbing your arms for warmth.
“Well, it's not quite 10 yet and I don’t have any other sign-ups, so why not?” He shrugged, walking down the hall with you following after him.
You two walked down the hall, reaching a small study room at the end of it.
“This is the room I reserved for the night, so don’t worry about anyone coming in here super late and trying to steal it from us.” He said, opening it up for you to walk through.
You walked into the room, a table with a few chairs in the center with a whiteboard behind it. It seemed fine to you as you walked in, sitting down on a chair, slightly taken aback when it rolled underneath your weight. You looked down and noticed wheels at the feet of the chair. You looked up again when you heard the door shut, Miguel locking it behind him.
_______________________________________________
“And that's why your z score is going to be 20.99. Does that make sense?” He asked. You were fucked.
The whole time you were supposed to be paying attention you were completely distracted by his being. He sat next to you, his large frame practically caging you in between him and the desk. He was everywhere, and if you weren’t staring directly at the paper, you were scared you were going to faint. You nodded, eyes looking down at the problem, refusing to tear away from the mathematical mess you made.
“Yeah…”
“Then tell me how you got it.” He said, deep voice rumbling in his big chest.
“Well, first you uh…” You circled a random number in the world problem then looked up at him with helpless eyes. He raised a brow.
“You start with the standard deviation?” He asked, clearly unamused.
“Well… You definitely use it somewhere…” You said half joking. Miguel was still unamused. He sighed deeply, throwing his head into his hand.
“I’ll explain it one more time, okay?” He said, grabbing the pencil from your hand. His hand brushed against yours and held your pencil as if it were a toothpick to him. “So, we’ve identified the mew, right?” He asked, underlining the foreign symbol.
“Yeah…” You said, asking yourself what the fuck is a mew?
You were determined to stay focused but that man made it difficult. You turned to look at him while his eyes were fixed onto the paper, scribbling out equations and typing into your calculator- which he also made look puny in his grasp. You watched him as he spoke, the way his soft lips moved as he talked, revealing sharp canines every now and then between words. You felt your face flush, entranced by his presence. You eyed his large shoulders, following them down to his massive arms. You looked back up at his face, admiring his features while he was so deep in thought. He looked down at you.
“So now we just divide and… hey?” he said almost harshly. “Are you paying attention?” He asked in a snarky tone. You felt your face drop.
“I… um…”
“Distracted again?” He tossed the pencil onto the surface of the table, muscular arms crossing as he almost glared at you.
“I’m sorry.” You felt exhausted, covering your face with your hands in defeat. You felt like crying.
“Maybe if you weren’t so focused on undressing me with your eyes and more focused on these problems, you’d understand this shit by now.” He grunted. You stilled, face buried deep into your palms before you peered at him through between your fingertips.
“W…What?” You asked, looking at his almost red eyes.
“I said what I said.” Miguel's voice was low, he grabbed your seat and pulled it towards him, the wheels moving you with ease. You felt your core tighten, as your face continued to burn hot, regardless of the air conditioning.
Miguel's eyes practically violated you, staring deep past your own and into your soul before looking you up and down, clearly enjoying how you cowered.
“That pretty little head not used to thinking this hard?” he asked low in your ear. You shuddered, hairs on the back of your neck standing at attention. “Pathetic.”
He grabbed your waist with his large hands, daring to crush you between his palms. He slowly stood up from his chair, face inches away from yours. You took that as invitation enough and crashed your lips into his, those soft lips felt even better than you imagined, a whimper escaping your lips as his grip increased. He pulled you off of the chair and slammed you onto the table, papers flying and pens scattering around you. You let out a grunt as the air escaped your lungs from the impact.
“I’m taking time out of my night to try and teach you this shit and you can't even meet me halfway and try to learn it?” He huffs yanking down your frumpy sweats to your ankles. You kicked them off, laying on the table in your tight shirt and panties.
“I-I’m sorry, you're just so-” he cut you off with two thick fingers plunging into your mouth, you gagged when they hit the back of your throat. He smirked, watching you drag your tongue around the knuckles of his fingers.
“That ought to shut you up.” He ran a finger from his other hand to your clothed cunt, you moaned around his thick digits when he caressed your clit. Your hips moved on their own accord, grinding against his large hand. “Would you look at that? I didn’t know they accepted whores into this school.” Miguel hummed, voice smooth like honey and deep like an ocean.
His single finger moved to where your pussy and thigh met, yanking aside your black cotton panties to reveal your wet cunt, which clenched around nothing at the sudden cold air.
“Jesus… I bet you were thinking about this all night, huh?” Miguel teased, the calloused tip of his finger just barely grazing along your seeping hole, spreading the warm slick higher and higher up your folds until he could smear it along your sensitive bud, eliciting another moan from behind his drooly fingers.
“Needy, aren’t we?” Miguel withdrew his fingers from your mouth while his other hand unzipped his dress pants, the metal of his belt buckle clanking together as he pulled it out of its loops. The belt hit the floor with a small thud and with his drool-soaked fingers he freed his massive cock and ran the slippery fingers up and down his shaft.
Miguel tore your underwear off of you, as if it was like taking a sticker off a piece of fruit. You felt yourself drip down your thighs, unsure whether or not it was okay to touch yourself while watching this Greek god of a man pleasure himself with your spit, watching your tense cunt beg him to stuff it.
“Like what you see?” He asked, slipping his finger into his mouth and moaning long and deep when he tasted your sweet slick on his tongue. You nodded vigorously, grabbing one of your tits to entice him even further. “Why don’t you take that off while we’re ahead?”
You quickly tossed off your shirt and bra, completely naked on the desk. Miguel softly laughed, watching how nicely you obeyed him.
“You're too easy, y’know that?” With a few more pumps to his shaft, he harshly grabbed one of your thighs and spread your legs even further, admiring your wet pussy.
The moan you two let out when he put his cock inside of you could've been heard by the whole building if it hadn't been well past 10 pm and everyone had gone for the day. His girthy member dared to split you in half, the sheer size of him was far too much to handle, especially all at one. We watched with pleasure as your breathy moans turned into agonized whimpers the further he drove into you. When he had finally gone balls deep inside of you, there was an obvious cock bulge deep inside of you as he stretched out your pussy wonderfully.
“M-Miguel…” You sighed, a bead of sweat rolling down your temple.
“Oh, so this can keep your attention but me slaving away on your homework can’t?” He smugly asked, pulling out before slamming into you with a grunt. You wailed, scratching the hard surface of the desk underneath you, crumpling stray pieces of scratch paper into your palm while arching your back.
Miguel started at a rough pace, making room out of your tight pussy for his intimidating cock, juices slicking the shaft of his member, and sounds of your wet pussy gushing paired with the creaking of the table filled the room, moans, and mewls adding to euphonious music of your fucking.
“So fucking tight… so fucking tiny… I bet I could fold you like a pretzel,” He said amusingly, grabbing the backs of your thighs and pushing the fronts of them against your chest. You cried out loud, new depth being explored by his commanding dick while he used you for his pleasure.
With his massive hands, he spread his fingers out, his thumbs on the backs of your thighs and his four fingers on the small of your back, grabbing onto you so he could bring you up and down on his deep thrusts.
You were seeing stars at this point, scared your arousal would drip onto your homework papers and soil all the progress you’ve made. But it didn’t matter anymore when you threw your head back onto the table and shook in his hands, pussy clenching around his meaty cock and milking him for his own cum.
“Ngh- What did I say? Easy…” He moaned, thrusting inside of you a few more times before he shot a huge load inside of your tiny pussy, cum leaking out between where your sexes met and rolling down your asscheeks.
You lay there on the table, shaking like a leaf in the wind. Miguel watched entranced as your shared cum leaked out of you, finger fucking it back inside of you, wondering if it he could stuff it all back in. He quickly realized your overstimulated cunt couldn’t take it as tears welled in your eyes.
“Sorry,” He said, removing his fingers. “Now uh… where were we?” He picked up the page of work, then his face dropped, looking at the splotch of cum that had spilled out on accident.
“On second thoughts… you might want to turn this in online.”
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Next: Cloning - Kakashi x Reader
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procrastinating my history test even tho I’m doing it at home and can cheat but I refuse to, the fact that he’s a yandere tutor probably has to do with that, anyways idk how I did this shit in one sitting,
desc: dom yandere tutor x sub gn reader, tutoring you, nsfw, library, some exhibitionism ig, idk kill me now
Tap. Tap. Tap. You looked up to Wynn bouncing his finger against your paper, clearly blank. He wanted you to take notes but your mind has been too distracted with other things to even process that you were getting tutored by him.
Right. You’re getting tutored by him because of your low grade in math. You excelled in every other subject yet when it came to numbers you were like a crow with a glass puzzle. It looks easy just from observing it but once you attempted it, it was much harder.
“Listen sweetheart, I need you to pay attention because I’m not going to sit here for another hour to look at your confused face. Start listening or else I’m leaving in 5” He used his hand to lift your chin up, emphasizing his height even if he was sat.
“Got it?”
You nodded.
“Alright, Let’s try this again” He inhaled with a long exhale, cracking his fingers before drilling some more methods in your brain until you had to understand.
You weren’t really sure why he decided to help though, he was busier than you were and might’ve cancelled a plan or two. Just to help you study? It was a little odd coming from the guy who seemed to hate your guts on some days while the others he could only tolerate you.
Wynn looks at your expression that can only be described as ‘I stopped listening a few minutes ago’, tempting him to walk out and teach you a lesson, whether that be one where you understand math or comprehend that you can’t waste his time.
He chooses the second.
“Alright, cmon” He grabs your hand, leading you somewhere without any other words, even when you ask the same questions like a confused parrot with no other things to say. “Where are we going? Wynn, where?”
“If you can’t listen with my words then I’ll make you listen with my touch” He closes the door behind him, efficiently locking it as he scoops you up and placed you on the librarian’s desk. It was her office, an empty one, something you noticed after looking around.
“We can’t be in here Wynn, the Librarian’s gonna kick us out” You sat on the desk, not daring to hop off just yet, maybe you were a little curious at to what he was planning, even if you were still confused.
“Who cares? She’s probably on her lunch break” He unbuttons your shirt, likely just for the view of how you look without it, pulling you in by the loose collar for a kiss. Strawberry chapstick is what you taste when he continued to press his lips against yours. You could hear his small intakes for breath, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you further in.
“Wynn?” You say pushing him off, more out of breath than you expected which was embarrassing since he looked ready for another deep kiss.
“Mhm..?” He says in a low voice, fiddling with the button of your pants while looking at you. His husky yet whiny tone had you believing he’s been waiting for this moment for along time now.
“I don’t know.. um..” You sort of ramble incoherent words of confusion, you weren’t sure why you called his name, you wanted to ask what this was about but with some fear to what the answer might be… you kept quiet, letting him explore your body with his veiny hands.
You liked him, even if he was a little snappy, he was sweet at times, so if you heard him saying this was just to release tension after studying for so long you might just cry right here. It was a little sad to hope that he was doing it with some sort of feelings.
If only you knew this man was obsessed with you.
You’d likely figure it out by how he bent you over the wooden desk and hesitated to take you here. Yes, he’d prefer if you were in his bed confessing your infatuation and dedication to making him fall for you, but the growing hot situation of fucking you in such a risky place has him more excited.
“I’d be nicer with you but you haven’t been listening so” He pushed his finger inside your hole, after embarrassingly making you suck on his finger for a few moments while praising you. He manages to fit three fingers at a time, curling them inside, making you squirm against the desk, you’re forced to grasp at the end of it while trying to keep quiet.
“Keep quiet and I’ll be nicer, you can do that right baby?” He says in a low voice, massaging your ass before lining his tip at your entrance, you can feel yourself suctioning on nothing in a desperate need for him. You make a noise of agreement and he takes it as a sign that you’re ready.
As he pushed himself inside he can’t help but make a groan of pleasure. It was tight, warm too, and it was you. He might’ve been leaking pre during the study session just thinking about something like this.
He bottoms out inside you and pulls out right where his tip begins, slamming back into you with a surprised moan escaping your lips, you scramble to cover your mouth before he starts repeating the same hard hitting thrusts.
He’s on his 4th one before he starts noticing how you’re shivering already, even if he was yet to pick up the pace, he curls his arm around your stomach and pulls you up against him, making you arch against him at his will.
“Be good and suck on this okay?” He offers his fingers, this time to keep you quiet, you nod and wrap your lips around his left digits, the ones that weren’t inside of you.
He makes you stand as he pushes his cock in and out of you, you can feel your legs quiver as he fills you to the brim with his cock, you don’t know if there’s even space for a finger inside when he already has you feeling so full.
You gasp when he speeds up, leaving you with no warning as you whimper against his fingers, the sound of skin clashing has you even more focused on the situation. “How does it feel baby? Are you gonna start listening to me now?” He growls in your ear, pulling you closer to him as continues.
Wynn feels you tighten around him as he speaks, he knows you’re paying attention. Best believe he’s going to start using this as a way to make you listen.
You mewl at how embarrassing it was to be arching and bending just from his control, as if he wasn’t teaching you mathematics 10 minutes ago. You internally prayed that nobody was hearing all the sounds you were making while his cock crashed into your sensitive hole in a quicker pace than before.
You grabbed at anything in-front of you, which was the wooden desk the shook under his movement that pushed you against it. He leaned with you as you propped yourself against it once more.
“I can feel you tightening around me, you still haven’t gotten used to it? I guess I’ll have to teach you the shape of my cock too huh?” He whispers in your ear, nibbling on your earlobe as he teased you.
“I’ll fuck you dumb until you get it”
#yxami’s yam#yandere#yandere x you#yandere x y/n#male yandere#yandere imagines#pls request#yandere scenarios#gn reader#soft yandere#yandere tsundere#yandere nsft#yandere tutor#tutor yandere#yandere boy#yandere x reader#yandere x willing reader#yandere x darling#yandere dom
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anatomy – matty healy
matty is supposed to tutor you in biology, but there’s another subject you’re much more interested in…
or tutor!au <3
tags: 18+, oral sex, unprotected sex, dry humping, dom/sub undertones, choking, cumplay, virgin!matty, freaky little loser guy
6802 words
You sit on top of the sheets of your bed, ankles crossed. You pop your bubblegum, flipping boredly through your Cosmo. Lipsticks, perfectly preened women, and the top ten sex tips flip in front of your eyes. You halt at the horoscope, indulgently checking yours. You’re not superstitious: it’s just that anything is better than this godforsaken lesson.
“And, you see, the specific shape of the active site of an enzyme enables it to function,” Matty drawls on, unfaltered by your clear disinterest. Maybe he doesn’t see; his nose is pulled tightly in his book. “It’s— It’s really a simple understanding of 'lock and key'. You can think of enzyme activity as molecular collisions resulting in the formation of enzyme-substrate complexes.” All the terms blur together in your mind. In one ear, transformed and decorated by the pretty pink things on your page, then out the other.
You almost feel bad for Matty, pushed into your room by your parents with pleading, desperate eyes to make you learn something. He sits at your desk while you distract yourself with whatever is more interesting which, as it so happens, is almost everything. He doesn’t complain, doesn’t say much to you other than hey and a string of jargon you don’t care to understand. It’s not like your bitchy, unimpressed stare is very welcoming.
Matty has this nervous, twitchy energy about him. He stutters through half of his sentences, pushing his glasses up his nose, searching for the fixed point in his book he lost. He swallows thickly, starts again. An awkward, limby thing.
Really, it’s a shame he wears all those nerdy shirts and drowning clothes, as well as those horrendous thick, square glasses. If you assess him objectively enough, he could be quite pretty. He’s lean, with a cutting jaw, and adorable curly hair. Girls would look away a flutter of red flags if it meant birthing kids with those traits.
You sigh, pushing the Cosmo off your bed, rolling to your belly. You rest your chin on your crossed arms, eyeing Matty. He gives you a look at the shifting noise, rounding his eyes as they fall on the stripe of skin your loose lounging shorts have revealed in the crossfire. It’s barely a few centimeters of your asscheeks, but Matty blushes all the same, flipping back to his book as though burned. You smirk. Interesting.
“Matty,” you trail lightly, the cadence of a song.
You found your bright new, shining distraction. Your smile is vicious and dangerous, ready to bite, to gnaw to the bone.
Matty looks up at you, incertain. You rarely address him during your tutoring lessons. You’re not even sure you’ve said his name before, at least not to him. “I’m bored with biology,” you declare, artfully pouty and dejected.
“Oh,” he says. He swallows thickly. Flips through his book. His nervous tics make him all the more tantalizing to you. Some cruel need to toughen him up. “Um—”
You lick your teeth, grinning. “I want to study anatomy.”
Matty laughs, pushing his glasses up his nose. “That’s not in the syllabus.” There’s something about his total misunderstanding of your line that makes the need frizzle inside of you. An innocent little thing, to pick and devour through.
You sit up, resting your weight on your heels. Your knees part suggestively, the loose shorts riding up your thighs. Your crop top sits up your ribs. Belly button piercing winks at him. Matty takes in the sight, face pale. You grin, victorious.
“I didn’t mean that anatomy,” you say, teasing. You rest a hand loosely on your leg, purposefully dragging his stare down to it. Your pink nails flash against your skin.
“Oh.” He swallows thickly, hypnotized by the soft flesh of your thighs. “I—” He shakes his head, as if to draw himself out of the daydream. “I, um—” He repeats, then laughs, “What?”
You sigh, kneeling up and getting off the bed. Your bare feet wiggle in the fuzzy, pink carpet. You prowl to him, predator-like. His breath hitches in his throat, right where you want it.
“Matty,” you sing, and he chokes at the sound. Just his name drives him wild— good to know. You get close enough to lean on the desk, to tower over him. He blinks up at you, robbed of speech. You flutter your eyelashes at him. “Are you a virgin?”
His lips part in surprise, but he doesn’t answer. Not that he needs to; the fucking sight of him is enough to know. It’s about the fun of watching him stumble, stutter, push his little glasses up his nose, telltale signs you revel in.
You sit on the desk, bunching his careful notes. You trail two fingers up his shoulder, that awful cheap plaid. You almost resent the feel of it on your skin, if not for the way he shivers.
You pout mockingly at him, stopping where the collar of his shirt meets the skin of his neck. “Are you gonna answer me?”
“Yeah— yes.” You run your fingertips on his neck, a grazing touch that has him staring up at you in devotion. You smirk.
“Have you ever been touched like this?” You run your thumb to the other side of his neck, a strong path. You want him to feel it, until your hand stretches over his throat, possessive.
He swallows under your palm, Adam’s apple bobbing on your fortune-telling palm lines. “No,” he admits quietly. You feel it resonate more than you hear it.
You hum, silently thrilled. “And have you ever been kissed?” You whisper.
Matty stares up at you. He waits a second, two— takes his time. “No.” You smirk. You pick your gum between two fingers, pressing it into the corner of his notes. Perfect.
It’s a little awkward, of course, because you’re perched on the desk and he’s sitting all the way down on his chair, gripping its arms. But, still, you bend down and kiss him square on the mouth.
He gasps against you, freezing there. You’re undeterred; you kiss and kiss him, smearing your strawberry lipgloss, until he snaps into action and kisses you back. It’s a rhythmless, artless thing.
He doesn’t know how to kiss.
What he lacks in technique, he makes up in eagerness, opening his mouth and licking a wet tongue into yours. You giggle a little, taste the Sour Patch kids he nervously ate from his bag between two scientific words you purposefully didn’t remember. You press at his throat, just so he’s as breathless as you are. He moans against your lips, panting.
Matty doesn’t dare touch. His body is fixed to the desk chair, letting himself be kissed, taking only what you are willing to offer. He sits there like you are breathing life into his mouth, eating and eating and never asking for more. It’s what makes you want to give him more.
You pull away from him, straightening like a queen taking her throne. Under you, the pages wrinkle and ruffle, and he doesn’t even care. His lips are swollen and pink, shiny from the lipgloss. Breaths puff out from there, pulling attention.
“You’re kinda pretty,” you admit lowly, like a secret he should know.
“Thanks,” Matty flushes.
You release his throat, wiping your pink gloss off his lips. They part instinctively. You smile, slipping your thumb inside. He sucks the strawberry, warm tongue on your fingerprint. Power loosens your head.
“Do you want me?” You ask, as though his mouth drooling around your thumb wasn’t indication enough. You want the words; you want the worship.
“Yeth,” he says, choking on your finger. You smile, taking it out and drying it on his cheek.
You don’t make a big show of taking your shirt off. Your hands are at the hem of your baby tee, then it’s off your shoulders, thrown on the pink carpet. Matty whines, surprised and overwhelmed, throwing a furtive glance at the cracked door of your bedroom.
“It’s okay,” you whisper, taking his hand. Soft and weak; he hasn’t worked a day in his life. It’s slack between your fingers. He lets you puppeteer it to your breasts, lets you grope yourself with him as an instrument.
He makes another small noise from the back of his throat, staring at the fucking sight like he can’t quite believe it truly is his own hand. “God,” he mutters to himself, and it’s exactly how you feel.
“Say thank you,” you taunt him, because you know he will.
Like clockwork, Matty revels, “Thank you.” Growing bold, he rubs a thumb over your hard nipple, a tough callus you didn’t expect on the tip of it. It makes you moan; a crack in your spotless armor, but he doesn’t even notice. Too preoccupied with playing with your tits, pawing at it greedily.
“Can I—” He flushes, shaking his head.
“What?”
“Can I lick them?” A drop of heat strikes through you. You clench your thighs, arching your back into his readied palm.
“Yes.” He leans in before you’ve finished the s, sucking your abandoned nipple into his mouth. He licks and rubs and pinches, raw skill pulling at your sensitive skin. You bite back groans, breathing harshly. Your chest rises and falls into his mouth, but he’s just as diligent.
You rake a long-nailed hand into his hair, scratching his scalp with every particularly delicious lick. He moans at that, vibrating on your sensitive nipples.
He sticks his tongue out, panting like a dog, dipping down to the valley of your tits and pressing a kiss, then climbing up a new breast. He bites gently, and you jump, surprised by his boldness.
“Sorry,” he whispers. You don’t like this little switch-up in power. He’s supposed to be purring for you, enthrallment shining in his eyes. You tug on his hair, making him look at you.
Matty stares up, dutiful. He doesn’t care about the power game; hasn’t even realized you were slipping. He takes what you give.
You soothe away the sting of his hair. “Pretty boy,” you coo. Matty beams at that. “I want to hear you scream.”
With this, you jump off the desk, and kneel under it.
“Oh,” Matty says, eyes wide as he watches you fumble with his pants. You unbutton and unzip, fast and knowledgeable, dipping into his boxers— “Wait.”
You look up at him, inches from your goal. You cock your head, frowning. “What?”
“Just—” He pants, staring at you. “Just give me a second.”
You hum, grazing a finger on the faint happy trail of his stomach. His belly sucks in. “Are you nervous?”
“No,” he says. “Yes. I don’t know.” He laughs. His hands still grip the armrests, white-knuckled. “Why are you doing this?”
You shrug. “I want to.” You tip your head, kissing his soft hand. “Do you want me to?”
“Well, yeah.”
You grin. “Relax.” Finally, your hand slips under his underwear, and you wrap around his hard length. He gasps, cold fingers against hot skin, fingers against him.
His hips jump into your fist as you draw him out. Another nervous glance to the door, still half-opened. Your parents are somewhere in the house, pretending not to exist. You lick your lips.
You lightly scratch your pink nails against him. You run a thumb on his tip, smearing precum. He hisses, turning into a moan as you slowly drag your hand down. He’s frozen and tense, almost afraid of moving, as if that would make you go away.
“Teach me,” you say.
He blinks at you, dazed. “Huh?”
Your eyes vaguely look up to the desk you hide under, biology notes in his scratchy writing laying wrinkled. “Biology. My parents are paying you for a reason, aren’t they?”
“Oh—” He flushes, embarrassed. Pushes his glasses up. “Right, right.” His hands let go of the armrests, searching through the pages. You choose this moment to kiss the tip of his cock. He whimpers, shutting his eyes in pleasure. “Fuck.” You giggle, all too happy.
He struggles to find where you disturbed him, biting his lip in comical concentration. You tease him, enjoying all the little breaths he chokes on, the soft sounds he tries to hide. Your hand pumps up and down, twisting at the wrist.
You wonder how often he’s done this on himself, who he imagined between his legs.
From now, it’ll be you. You’ll make sure of it.
“Um, right, so,” Matty starts, out of breath. “In some reactions,” he continues arduously, “one substrate is broken down into multiple products. And—” Devilishly, you lick a stripe up his length. He groans, twitching on your tongue. “Shit,” he mutters. It’s funny coming from him; the swear rings wrong, like a costume.
He drags his stare down, pulling away from his notes to watch you. You indulge him, parting your lips and wrapping them around his tip. You suck on it gently. His face wrinkles, a moan breaking from him. You pull your head down, swallowing him. He clutches at his papers, scrunching them himself.
“Oh, God,” Matty says, trying to catch his breath as you bob your head. “I’m— Shit.”
You let go of him with a wet pop, stroking him quickly. “Shh,” you tease him. “My parents.” Again, he throws a nervous look towards the door.
Saliva and lipgloss and precum already lube him, but you keep your hand at his base as you spit on his cock. You drag it down his length. Matty’s eyes snap towards you. “Do that again.” He wants to see you.
You smirk, tilting your head to leave wet kisses up his cock, then lick his tip. You spit on it, and a low groan resonates from him. His hips rise up into your hand, but you push them down with your claws.
“Fuck,” he whimpers from the back of his throat, melting on the chair. He likes it messy. You grin, peppering little kisses over his cock, smearing him in strawberry lipgloss.
“What’s the other thing?”
“Huh?” He blinks, tying himself back to reality. “Right, um, substrates. It’s—” Again, you choose this moment to push him down your throat. He loses speech, mumbling incoherent syllables, some broken version of your name.
Though your head bobs quickly, pulling further and further down his length, twisting a stroking hand all the same, you pinch your nails at his hip. He jumps, struck out of the daze of pleasure, blinking down at you.
“Yeah, it’s— The other reactions are—” You let go of his hip, pinching your own nipple instead. Matty whines, losing his train of thought. “You’re not being fair.”
You laugh, spitting him out to catch your breath. You grope yourself and he watches, not sure which hand to focus on. His cheeks are tinted red, maybe from effort, or adrenaline, or shyness. It’s cute enough to bite.
Wonder shines in his eyes. He can’t believe this is happening; he’s eternally grateful, as he should be. As they all should have been, those faceless men you’ve blown in the bathrooms of parties for attention and a momentary stop to complete boredom. They stayed quiet, almost afraid to make noise, to show they enjoyed it, until they shook and spilled inside your mouth. Matty’s not afraid to moan.
Your brain rushes, sticky happy. You pant on his cock, trailing a finger down your stomach, then dipping in your shorts. Matty’s eyes widen, straightening to catch a glimpse. You smile, catching a pool of your arousal.
You come back up, fingers sticky and wet with your slick, and smear it on his cock. Matty scrunches his face, whimpering, shaking under your hands.
“You’re trying to kill me.”
“Only because it’s easy,” you mock, jerking and twisting your two hands in rhythm, wet sounds ringing in the room.
You free his cock, gripping the armrests of the chair instead. You wrap your mouth around it, and bend down until your nose touches the faint smatterings of dark hair on his belly. You gag on him, and he strangles the edge of the desk trying to kill his moans.
You pump him in your mouth quickly, feeling him twitch and rise to meet you. He remembers himself, falling down on the chair dutifully, not even burying a needy hand in your hair, as though afraid that would be asking for too much.
You drag up, making him hit the inside of your cheek, before releasing him. You spit the precum on him, blinking up through teary eyes. He doesn’t have any words, red swollen lip bitten raw.
“I taste great,” you say, and then offer up your still-wet fingers to him. He’s eager, sucking them into his mouth. He bobs, imitating you, and the sight and feel makes hot desire drip inside of you.
You want to squeeze him until he pops.
You take his hand, pulling it into your hair. He grips instinctively, pushing it out of your face. “Don’t push,” you warn, serious. He nods frantically, and you trust him to mean it.
You take him into your mouth for what you know is the final time. You’re certain he won’t last long, droopy and moaning and twitching, hissing every time your tongue runs on him. You bob with skill and precision still. He tugs at your hair, both hands in now, trembling in the mess of it. He never pushes, or fucks his hips up; trusts you to undo him yourself.
He swears and curses and whimpers, head falling down and back, vacillating between the sky and your red, puffy face. The sink is heard from faraway, but you don’t think he can even hear it.
“I'm dreaming,” he whispers to himself, sounding wild. “I’m gonna wake up. I’m gonna be— I’m gonna—” Matty cries, slapping a hand over his mouth, and comes down your throat. He shakes, loud moans hidden in his palm, eyes shut and forehead wrinkled.
He lets go of your hair with a fucked-out sigh, panting. His eyes never leave you, disbelief written all over it. You pull him out of your throat, and smile at him.
You’re about to swallow when he touches your arm, unsure of where he’s allowed to now. “Wait, can you—” He grows embarrassed, blushing. “Can you open your mouth?”
You part your lips, showing off his white cum still sitting on your tongue. He whimpers at the sight, fingers digging into your arm. His breathing turns irregular, cheeks reddening, eyes darkening. He’s so strange.
Still, you stick your tongue out, putting his load in evidence, making a spectacle of it. He looks tortured, enthralled.
You stay long enough that you feel it run down, long white rope hanging from your tongue, then dropping on your breast.
“Fuck,” Matty whispers to himself. Seemingly without thinking, he runs his thumb on your breast, catching his cum and sucking it between his lips.
You smile, slurping the cum back into your mouth, and swallowing it. You flash your red tongue at him. “All clean.”
“Thank you,” Matty says. “I— I’m not sure why you did that, but— I, you know, appreciate it.” He’s so polite. You’d laugh if he wouldn’t snap back into that little head box of his.
“I’m very thankful for all those lessons,” you wink.
“No, you’re not.”
“No, I’m not.” Matty’s finger rubs the skin of your arm, that strangely tough callus, and it has you leaning into his touch. “Though, this has been my favorite lesson.”
“God, I couldn’t even get a word out.”
“Hence why.”
Matty snorts and he offers you a hand. You grab it to manœuvre out from under the desk. You push your sweaty hair out of your face, then wipe the leftover stickiness from your breasts.
Matty, of course, follows the movement to your tits. He swallows. “Do you, um,” he pushes his glasses up. “Do you want, like, something back?”
You arch an eyebrow, incapable of holding a small giggle this time. “Do you know how?”
He stares into your eyes. “I could try.”
And, again, there’s just something about his eagerness, his willingness, his open devotion, that has you saying, “Yeah, I guess you could try.”
You tiptoe to your bedroom door, looking left and right into the hallway, before quietly shutting it. You turn around to a displeased Matty. “Oh, so you get to have it closed?”
“‘S more fun when you’re struggling,” you shrug, devilish. You run to the bed, falling on the pillows, fluttering your eyelashes at him. “Come here, pretty boy.” He practically trips out of his chair to find you. He’s three steps in when you stop him. “Take your clothes off.”
He grows shy under your gaze. Staying in place, fingers shaking, he starts to unbutton his plaid shirt. He kicks off his sneakers and his baggy jeans until he stands there in his boxers. He’s as scrawny as you imagined him to be. You smile.
Matty crosses his arms. “Can I see you, too?” He whispers.
You shimmy your shorts off your legs and throw it beyond the bed. Matty’s stare stutters on your pink thong, wet patch where your desire pooled.
You draw a hand towards him and he takes it, falling over you on the bed. He doesn’t waste time, giving you a sloppy kiss before mouthing at your neck, your collarbones, your tits. He laps at them first and you wonder if he’s trying to get the last lingering taste of his cum. He catches a nipple next and sucks it.
Gaspy moans leave your lips. You part your legs instinctively and he buries between them, already hardening. His cock hits your thigh and he sucks and pinches and plays until you start thinking he might really be able to try.
Your hands descend down his back, freckled under your nails. You grip his small waist, pushing at his hip, the hem of his boxers. Matty understands, leaving you long enough to kick them off. He pants in front of you, leaning back already, wet, swollen mouth parted.
Matty lays over you again and his hard cock presses into your need. You scratch your nails up his back and he jerks, bucking into you. A moan leaves both your mouths. He tries again, artless, just off your clit.
“Oh,” he whispers, mostly to himself. He does it again, building and building heat inside of you, yet never relieving.
You huff. You sneak a hand between your bodies, moving your thong aside until he slips under it.
Another boy would have taken the opportunity, would have buried inside before you even had time to nod, but Matty doesn’t even think of it.
He humps your wet cunt, tucked tight under your underwear, hem pressing his length. Matty moans every time, quickening, desperate. He tilts his hand to better see as his cock bulges the cloth, a wet patch forming where his precum stains.
“Fuck.”
And it’s better; he’s faster, and firmer, and mostly there. He follows your little puffs of shameful breaths, staying where they transform into slack moans. Pleasure starts waking up inside your belly, sickly warm.
But you’ve had boys hump at you before, had them bucking between your legs. You know it’s not what will get you off. You need your mind stimulated, to be so thoroughly hot and desperate you finally let yourself go.
You pinch the nape of his neck, making him look at you. A slack, messy smirk lays on your lips. You tease, “Have you ever thought of me during our tutoring sessions?”
Matty’s hips stutter. He looks away. “Like…”
“Yeah, like, on my knees.”
Matty blushes. “Well, yeah.”
You grin, too pleased. A deadly smile, hunting. “When?”
“I don’t know…” He mutters. You scowl to yourself, and maybe he senses that, because his chin grazes your shoulder and he admits shamefully, “When you ate that popsicle. And you licked and you slurped and you sucked and, just— I’m a guy. I had visions.”
“I had visions.” You imitate, mocking. You tsk, “You're such a nerd.” You roll your hips back against him and a whimper buries in the skin of your shoulder. “Was it how you imagined?”
“Better.” He nods fervently. “So much fucking better. I actually died, I think. Still unsure whether I’m dead or not.” Pride and power makes your head loose, makes pleasure ripple through your flesh.
You claw at his skin, warning dangerously, “Tell anyone and you will be.” All it does is make him moan, bucking faster against you. Your toes curl. You breathe in his ear, “Tell me more.”
“I, uh— Shit.” The tip of his cock burrows in your underwear as he slides, wet and slick from you. He shivers over you. “I’d think about— bending you over the desk.”
Your smile ghosts your face, grazing his soft, fresh cheek. “Really?”
“Just, you know, when you wouldn’t listen. And you’d pop that chewing gum, and you’d ignore me, and you’d be mean.”
You smirk, clicking your tongue. “So you wanted to, what, toughen me up? Take your revenge?”
His cheeks redden. “No.” His lips brush your shoulders, and he kisses, opposite. “I don’t know. I wanted you to pay attention.” He licks your neck. “I wanted to make you scream.” Mouths at your jaw. “I wanted to fuck you. Or for you to fuck me— I wanted you.”
You can’t believe you’re now the one blushing. You pant, glad he’s buried in your throat, that he can’t see. A moan slips from you as he nips gently at your skin. Your eyes roll in your skull.
“You like when I’m mean to you?” You tease meanly, out of breath. You scratch his back, burying your hand in his hair, and tugging until he looks you in the eyes. “Gets you all bothered?”
Matty shivers, whining, “Fuck, please—”
You push him onto his back, rolling over. Two hands press into his chest, and you might very well concave his ribcage. You stare him down, divine. “You wanted me to fuck you?”
His messy, unbrushed hair falls around his head like a halo. He’s sweet enough to make your head spin. He watches you openly behind the glass of his specs, breathing, “Yes.”
You trail your fingernails on his hard cock, down to his base. “And now?”
Devoting, “Yes.”
A rush of thrill fills you. You kneel up, shimmying your underwear off. Matty gasps at the sight, raking a hungry gaze up and down your body. He holds the sheets of your bed with white-knuckled fingers.
You waste no time, rocking your cunt against his tip once, twice, before slowly lowering yourself on him. You inhale at the stretch. Matty’s eyes shut, whining. “Look at me,” you order, and he listens.
His eyes flash open. He blinks at you as you bottom out. His head rolls, shaking. “Oh, fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.” You go to move up, but he holds your hip down. He takes deep breaths. “Can we— Just, this is—”
“It’s okay,” you whisper, taking his hand and placing it over the regular beating of your heart. He thumbs your nipple while he’s there, breathing in sync with your pulse. You slowly roll your hips on him.
Matty moans, gripping the flesh of your thigh. You let him adjust to the feel of it, rocking softly, dragging your clit on his pelvis. You bite your lip raw as pleasure blooms inside of you. Your thighs ache to go faster, harder, but you maintain the delicate pace for him. Just that has him shaking under you, and you once again grip his hand over your heart to ground him.
“Sorry,” he says with an embarrassed laugh. “Fuck,” is immediately added when you circle your hips, his eyes rolling. “Fuck, sorry.”
“Stop apologizing,” you order. “What are the other reactions?” You say, attempting to drag him out of his anxiety-filled head. He frowns at you. “Of enzymes.”
His lips part. “I didn’t know you knew that term.”
You roll your eyes, then your hips, euphoria fizzling under your skin. “I listen to you.” His unconvinced look betrays him. “Sometimes.”
“They’re, um— Shit. They come together to create one— fuck, one larger molecule or—” You finally rock faster, angling your hips to have him bury inside you right where you need him. You moan, chest rising and falling quickly. Your legs grow desperate; you chase that sickly pleasure.
“Yeah?” You encourage him on, seeing his own pleasure resonate in his face. He bites his lip, pawing uselessly at your thigh. “Or?” You’re out of breath.
“Or swap pieces,” he finally finishes between two moans. Chuckles, “Actually, pretty much all biological reactions you can think of probably—” Your hips fall harsher on him and he loses his train of thought, overwhelmed. You smile, setting a wild pace, completely unfair.
“Probably what?” You say, teasing, “I’m always thinking about biological reactions.”
“Don’t tease,” he pouts, and you slow down your thrusts just to spite him. He whines, pressing his short fingernails into the skin of your thigh.
“Come on.” You make him look you in the eyes, mocking, “Educate me.”
“They all have enzymes,” Matty finally finishes. You reward him by reaching down and pinching his nipple. He whimpers, cursing your name. “Why have you suddenly decided to be a good student?”
“‘Cause you’re adorable when you’re struggling to find words,” you answer honestly. You hold your weight up on the hand pressed into his chest, angling your hips until your clit rubs and rubs his pelvis. Your eyes roll, fucking him quicker. “Fuck. I love when I can make you all stupid for me.” The power in changing up his DNA composition, making a smart boy incapable of remembering all the jargon you yourself don’t know, is addictive. Undoing him block by block until he’s putty in your hands. Matty just moans, not arguing.
Sweat pearls his forehead. The white sheets make him angelic. He breathes your name, fluttering his eyelashes at you. “Can I try on top?” Maybe it’s because he looks so reverent, so innocent, that you nod.
Matty doesn’t push you and roll you over, instead staying there, as though waiting for it to just magically happen. You giggle to yourself, unmounting him and falling back on the mattress, legs parted. He swallows thickly, laying over you.
His glasses fall down his nose and you laugh, grabbing them and carefully placing them on your nightstand. He blinks, adjusting to the blurry sight.
His hand shakes as he grabs himself and lines up. He misses once, twice, until you rest a soothing hand on his and guide him. Matty moans in your hair as he slides in. He stays in your wet heat for a second, catching his breath, before he thrusts.
And it’s bad, of course. He doesn’t have any rhythm, bucking blindly inside of you. It’s a strange pace, irregular and powerless. He certainly can’t find any type of mindnumbing spot. Pleasure simmers lowly in your belly, heat turned off almost to nothing if it weren’t for the pretty moans that bury straight in your ear.
You grab his hip, making Matty look at you. “Start slow,” you instruct, guiding him. He follows the movements of your hand, rocking back and forth, slow but regular. “There,” you nod, arching your back. “Just, tilt—” He repositions himself, eager to learn, and you shudder. You call his name, syrupy with moans.
He’s a fast learner, following diligently the guidings of your gripping hand. He fucks into you slowly, but surely. Your toes curl. Pleasure wakes up again, coiling in your belly. “Like this?” He breathes. You nod, encouraging him on.
“It’s like I’m tutoring you,” you remark, chuckling to yourself. Matty snorts. “I like being the smart one for once.”
Matty frowns. “You’re always smart.” He says it without thinking, because he means it. Something wet chokes your throat, tugs at your lips. “You just don’t listen.”
“Would you like me to?” You say, tone taunting. A self-destroying instinct, telling you to hurt, to ruin. “Make me your little pet? Be all obedient? Have me sucking your cock while you tell me all about biology?”
His eyebrows furrow. “Do you want me to do that?” All your bullets don’t land. He’s unconcerned on what he wants. You huff.
Instead of reckoning, you order, “Faster, now.” Matty nods against your cheek. He obeys, thrusting quicker. You let go of his hip, climbing up his back just to rake your nails down it. His hips snap faster, harsher, endeavored. You grin, licking his jaw, kissing the bone.
“Fuck,” he whimpers, catching your lips and kissing you. You wrap your arms around his neck, trapping him there as he ruts between your legs. You swallow all the sounds he makes, kill the swears you think of saying. Euphoria washes you.
He leaves your lips just to smack wet kisses over your face, again and again. On your forehead, your cheeks, your eyelids, your chin. He mouths down your throat, starts sucking and nipping at the side. You bury a hand into his hair, pushing him further down. “Not the neck,” you explain, breathy.
Matty finds the side of your tits and he buries there, sucking at your skin. You arch into his mouth, pleasure rushing up your side at the pinpricks of pain. He moans against you, bucking faster. Your mind spins and spins. “Matty.” Again, he speeds up, harsh and wild. “Fucking hell, Matty.”
You tug at his hair and he releases you, lips wet and swollen. He pants over you, eyes dazed with pleasure. A new wave of heat strikes you just from the sight of him, unmade and wild. You sneak a hand between your bodies. You find your clit easily, rubbing.
Matty’s head drops to watch you. He whines, seeing where he disappears inside of you, over and over, where your pink nails swipe at you.
He leans his weight on one arm, joining his own hand with yours. You’re surprised at the act, at the willingness of involving himself in the complicated business of your pleasure. Your fingers stop, resting up on your stomach.
He paws blindly at your cunt, just a little off where you need him. You grip his wrist, angling him at the right place, gently circling and swiping with his finger. The callus presses on your clit and it’s a delicious sensation. You roll your eyes, crying out, then slapping your palm over your mouth. Matty grins proudly, continuing to rub at you.
“This is good, right?” He whispers, pretty eyes all vulnerable on you.
You nod frantically. “Yes. It’s good.” You melt on the sheets, parting your legs further. “It’s really good.” His cheeks flush at the compliment. You wrap your hand around his throat, resting there with silent ownership. “Did you ever think it’d be me?”
Matty chokes on a laugh and a moan. “No. I never thought you’d ever even give me a look.”
You hum, pleased with the answer. He realizes it’s a privilege. You grin, pressing your fingers on the sides of his neck. His hips stutter, then snap even faster, a broken cry leaving him. His lips part in quiet ecstasy. His eyes shut, rapid movement behind his eyelids.
You grin at him. “Say thank you, pretty boy.”
You release him, at least giving him a chance. He falls into your shoulder, taking deep inhales, shaking. “Thank you,” he says, mumbly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” You rake through his hair, soothing. “Aw, fuck, I’m gonna—” He twitches inside of you.
“Not inside!” You shout. Matty gasps, thrusting out of you. He cries as he comes on your navel and cunt. He catches his breath, blinking himself back to this reality, still shaking.
“Sorry,” he says, shortwinded. A pang of disappointment hits you. It’s not like you’ve ever come with someone else before, but it had felt really close this time.
At least Matty tried.
Matty watches his cum painted over your skin, catching your piercing, mixing with the slick of your cunt. He moans to himself, then bends down between your thighs.
You rest on your elbows, frowning. “What—” He licks a stripe over your cunt, tasting both your juices. Euphoria strikes through you. Your back hits the mattress as you fall back, legs shaking. “Matty.” He hums, faraway, licking and licking to clean you all up. You bury a hand in his hair, grounding him in place.
He finds your clit, rubbing it with the tip of his tongue, circling then sucking it. You jolt on the bed, biting back a scream. You frown to yourself, tugging on his hair, fire boiling inside your stomach. What the fuck.
He laps at you, moaning every time your nails scratch his scalp, the sound vibrating against you. A hand wraps around your thigh, keeping you open for him. He devours you eagerly, hungrily, until you’re a mess melting into his mouth.
“God, Matty,” you cry. You have to actually hold back another one with a slap of your hand, shocked at yourself as you scream into your palm.
Matty stops, breathing harshly, and you throw a glance down in question. He climbs up your stomach, lapping at your skin, cleaning the last of his cum. You whimper at the dirty sight, desire drumming down your limbs.
He throws you a hot look. Tongue out, full of white cum. He goes back between your legs and buries it in your cunt, fucking it in. You jump, cursing to the ceiling. Matty laughs, greedily tasting you.
You roll your hips into his face, hitting the tip of his nose on your clit. Every strike has ecstasy resonating in your bones. You feel light on your bones.
His lips wrap around your clit. He sucks, grazing a tongue, swiping and circling like you showed him. You recognize the same pattern, recognize the rhythm. Of course he’s a fast learner.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you chant, choked by your hand. You raise your hips into his mouth, silently begging. Your legs shake, desperate. Pressure pushes at your belly. Your eyes roll. “Don’t stop.”
He mumbles something in your cunt, probably a promise or a praise, dutifully not stopping. He laps and eats and fucks until your brain melts into your skull, dripping down your spine.
“Oh, fuck, I’m—” Your head shakes fervently. “Just stay— Shit, Matty, just— I—” The pressure snaps and you come on his readied tongue, screaming. Hot white flashes in your vision. Relief washes you, dipping to every crevices, relaxing you. He moans against your cunt.
Matty continues to lick you, mission-bound, until your lungs are on fire and you physically push him away. He smiles up at you, chin sticky and wet and red. He wipes it, kneeling.
“Where the fuck did you learn how to do that?” You say, shortwinded, shocked to your bones. You stare at him like he’s grown a second head.
It’s the first time someone other than your knowing hand made you come. And it’s fucking Matty Healy. You blink at him.
“What?” He laughs, falling beside you on the bed.
You gesture vaguely downwards. “That.”
“Oh,” he blushes. Shrugs. “I don’t know. I researched it once.”
“You— Oh, my God.” You stare at the ceiling in disbelief. “Oh, my God. You’re such a nerd.”
Matty grins, cheekily proud. He gently grazes the bruise he left on your breast, the splotch of red that will darken, be a leftover trace of him.
“Thanks,” he says simply.
“You’re welcome.” You shift your legs, feeling the wetness still between them. “Thanks to you too, I guess.” He grins, hiding in the white pillows.
He gives you a look. “Will you listen when I tutor you now?”
You smirk mischievously. “Maybe if you have my fingers in your mouth.”
“Oh,” Matty says, eyes wide. “Will you— Will this happen again?”
You make a noncommittal shrug, though a more definite answer hums in your heart. “Maybe if you’re really good.” You smile to yourself. “Or really boring, and I need to shut you up.”
“You can shut me up any day.”
“I know.” You linger in that moment for just a second more, eyes locked together, smiles tickling your lips. Then you sit up, reaching for your underwear. “Session’s almost done.”
Matty nods, lips thin. “Right.” He pats the nightstand for his glasses.
You dress yourselves, wiping away sweat and cum, brushing wild strands. You give an awkward goodbye, incertain, and Matty slips from the room. You don’t follow him to the door. You never do.
Downstairs, you hear your parents thank him and give him a crisp 50 dollar bill. You giggle to yourself and fall on the bed, bone-deep exhausted.
#happy Day after me show day<33#tutor!au#matty healy x reader#matty healy smut#matty healy#matty healy fanfic#matty healy fic#matty healy imagine#the 1975 smut#the 1975 fic#smut#writing#imagine
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affirming word.
your first argument with al haitham is one you are sure you’ll never forget. not because of his piercing words and the cold way he stares back at you, but because of his desperate reassurance. the soft way he held you as apologies were uttered, and the gentle way he cared for every tear you shed.
a/n: waah this is my first fic on this account !! cheers ^^
w/c: ~1.5k
warnings: not proof read (im lazy my bad) mentions of arguments, insecurities. hurt/comfort
al haitham has been in maybe, one relationship before this one, you gather. there’s a certain coarseness to the way he approaches love and being in love with you that bleeds with lack of experience. it is not a slight against him, in fact, you’d consider it the furthest from that. you are honored to have been so cherished by someone who claims to not have time for trivial things. if al haitham is good at one thing, beyond mathematics or research or memorization, it is making you feel like you are not and will never be “trivial” to him. he remembers every date, he recalls every small detail, and he does everything he can, even in his busy schedule to make time for you. because you are the one he chose, and you are beyond his preconceptions about the usefulness and reason for “falling in love,” or other trifling activities.
so, when he calls you just that -- useless and pointless and trivial, it stings. and it stings for more than an hour, after the silence has settled in your shared living space and dinner has gone cold. it stings every time he looks at you, unable to control his cold and calculating frustration. even by the time said frustration is no longer directed at you but at himself for getting caught up -- for the escalation to petty insults rather than progress towards a natural solution. even as you both stand up and say you’re sorry for hurting each other and promise to listen and care. you are still left stinging. you ache all over, even as you lie in bed with him, his warm arms pulling your form close as you both whisper declarations of retreat, compromise, and love. you close your eyes and take in his scent, woody, almost a bit musky and just a twinge reminiscent of a well kept library. you would find solace here, but you cannot help but ache. your eyes sting with salt and self-admonishment as you sleep, feeling as though the two of you are left further apart than you were before.
it’s been several days now. the sounds of the bustling streets and the near silence of the akademia’s halls do nothing to comfort your still stirring heart. you see al haitham every day, you tell him you love him every day (because you do, and you’ll be damned before the aftermath of a finished argument tells you that you do not). he echoes the same, but still you think
trivial? were you nothing but pointless and foolish? did your beloved boyfriend, in times of distress, think of you as the very things he swore not to make you feel you were? it hurts to feel distant from him, but you’re sure he hasn’t noticed. in fact, you think it’s better that he hasn’t noticed. he’s a busy, busy man. and, really, he shouldn't be worried about something as frivolous as the way you feel about a pain that’s passed silently for days. you’ll get over it, because you’ve already talked and you love him and that should be enough.
but you forget, that al haitham, while not a fool, is foolishly in love with you. he is a man that gets what he needs and what he wants and when there are obstacles in his path he devises clear plans to avoid them. the only thing he would readily admit to making mistakes over is you. you and your smile that lights up his entire world, you and the way you care for him and challenge his mind in the most electrifying way. you who holds him as he sinks into the depths of his mind, and you who promises him eternity, irrational as that may be. so when you distance yourself, drowning in your own hurt, al haitham is planning. your wounds are like aching scars on his back. prickling with pain and a reminder of his failing, not to himself, but his failing to provide you with the world as you deserve. he sits in his office, stiff and cautious. what on earth could it be that has sent you away from him? what sort of thorns have coated your heart and how should he cut through them to get to you?
you don’t think much of it, when you’re called into al haitham’s office today. you expect nothing more than an update about his findings. you’ll walk in, say hello, chat for a time until you realize you’ve veered off course and then you’ll depart with timid “i love you”s and you’ll stare into the silence as you hope for the short moment to lift your heart the way it had before it was wounded. you do not expect to see him staring anxiously at the door as you enter. you do not expect him to run a hand through his pretty gray hair and quietly ask you a question.
“could you lock the door?” you do, but you’re holding your breath. dread floods your veins and you cannot help but feel intimidated as he stands and approaches you. in an attempt to flee from your racing mind and heart, you change the subject.
“hi, dear. did you need something? i should have given you the report from—” you’re silenced by the worried look on his face. it’s a foreign expression, one where his shining, always focused eyes dart around you with a mixture of something like fear and hurt, and one where his built arms hang awkwardly at his sides as he figures out what to say first.
“there’s something wrong,” he starts. your breath hitches and you’re forced to break eye contact. al haitham frowns. “please don’t do that. please look at me.” the plea hurts your chest, but you can’t bring yourself to do just that. you try to wave it off.
“there’s nothing—” but the shake in your voice betrays you. he waits for you to open up. for you to take the first step, because your comfort is his priority, but you can tell with the tension in the air that he will cut through if you do not. al haitham gets what he needs, and what he needs more than life is your happiness. you’re sure of that now, as you look back at his expression, endlessly full of concern for you. you can’t bring yourself to lie anymore. “okay, maybe there is something.”
“may i inquire?” he says it so timidly you’d think he’s another person. you can’t stop yourself from sighing.
“i just… it’s stupid. i don’t think it’s worth making a big deal. i’ll be over it soon.” the deadpan look on his face says otherwise.
“you have been… apart from your usual self. for longer than three nights. i’m worried about you.” al haitham’s admission is shaking, but resolute. his soothing voice quakes just the slightest bit, but he refuses to back down. you cave at his look, just as you always do.
“i‘m just… still hurt. over what you said, when we argued? i didn’t want you to feel bad since we already moved on from the problem but i keep thinking about it and hearing it in my head. you called me trivial.” al haitham pauses, as if recounting the event. you continue. “i know you probably didn’t mean it, but i can’t help but think that maybe…”
“stop,” he says with a gentleness reserved only for you. he places his hands gently on your shoulders while silently asking for permission in his gaze to pull you close. you nod, and suddenly his hand is patting the back of your head softly, as if you’re the most cherished being in the universe itself.
“i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.” you feel your eyes welling up with tears as he holds you close and admits fault. he pulls away slightly, but only to dry your tears with his thumb.
“you are everything to me. and it was only foolish of me to have allowed things to progress to this point. i would move mountains and slay the worst of foes just to see you happy. i have taken away part of your smile, even for a second. and for that i am so sorry.”
there is a tenderness in his eyes. you couldn’t imagine a more beautiful expression if you tried, and it is then that you realize he is not used to wearing this expression. he is clumsy in the way he squeezes you, and although he is intelligent, he is also inept in maintaining his usual aloofness as he reassures you that you will never be a waste of his time. it is then too, that you notice the fear squandering his composure as he promises to love you for what may be the millionth time.
you relax and while you cry in his arms, you allow al haitham’s affirming word into your heart, never to be shaken again.
#al haitam x reader#genshin impact x reader#alhaitham x reader#al haitham genshin#al haitham fluff#genshin impact imagines#genshin impact hurt/comfort#he's kinda been living in my brain the past few days tbh#al haitham come be my math tutor challenge#unrelated to the fic. i just wanted to say#rue's love letters
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The Biology Tutor
📕 Lesson 1: Female Anatomy
Continue studying: Lesson 2: Male Anatomy | Lesson 3: Human Reproduction | Extra Credit 01: Communication Skills
Pairing: Virgin!Eddie Munson x fem!tutor!reader
Summary: Eddie’s failing class, so you decide to offer two different styles of biology tuition, textbook-based and *ahem* practical.
W/C: something around 4k (I didn’t do a word count after editing, sorry)
CW: 🔞 18+ MDNI!, NSFW, PWP, smut with a story. Exhibitionism (f), mutual masturbation (m+f), swearing, innuendo, pet names, slight sub/dom dynamic, subtle size kink? Both Reader & Eddie are overage. No y/n. Reader’s appearance is not described, it can be whatever you like.
A/N: A cute little bit of biology lesson-based smut. I’m a sucker for virgin!Eddie and wanted to see if I could write him. Let me know how I did! 😄
My masterlist
You’ve had a crush on the guy in your Biology class since the beginning of the year when you first saw him ranting on a table in the cafeteria. There’s something about him that’s so different from the guys you’d usually go for. You run in completely different social circles, you with the academically-gifted ‘Brainy Bunch’ (an eye-rollingly terrible moniker coined by the we-think-we’re-so-clever jocks), and him with his nerdy friends. Despite this you find him unusual and intriguing, not to mention hot as all hell. You guess the ‘freak metalhead’ look doesn’t work for everyone, but his long hair and rebellious dark ink are certainly doing it for you. You really want to discover what’s underneath those layers of denim, leather and torn shirts, your imagination only able to go so far as you ponder his form late at night in your bed.
However, girls talk, and you’ve never heard of him being with any of them, or even speaking to all that many. For all his bravado and apparent confidence, you’re reasonably certain that Eddie Munson is still a virgin.
And for some reason this draws you to him even more.
You’re pretty sure you’ve caught Eddie checking out your ass as it’s perched on a high stool while he sits behind you in the biology lab. On days when you’re in this class you’ve started to wear your tightest jeans, and your shortest skirts (though if anyone asked you’d insist it was a coincidence).
Somehow you’ve become inexplicably clumsy (but only in this class, how odd…), often dropping your pencil and having to bend over to pick it up, occasionally chewing on the end in contemplation when you know he’s watching, much to the chagrin of your teacher.
“Never put anything in your mouth in the lab, you should all know better by now.”
You smirk at the innuendo in Eddie’s direction and he quickly looks away, ears exposed by his lab-regulation tied-back hair a little pink at the tips.
You also often ‘forget’ or ‘lose’ equipment, asking him if he’s got a spare, or could he please get you a replacement from the cupboards, which he’s always more than willing to do (giving you ample opportunities to observe his denim-clad ass as he does so).
“Damn, I seem to be one test tube short. Eddie, would you be a doll and get me one from the cupboard?”, crossing your legs and subtly ensuring the hem of your skirt rides up just a little more.
Eddie looks you up and down (result!) and agrees.
“Thanks, you really are my knight in shiny, um, leather?” You wince slightly at your clumsy comment, but he takes it in his stride, continuing the bit by replying,
“Here you go, your majesty”, bowing theatrically and presenting the glassware to you atop his forearm, making you grin.
In another lesson: “Shit, I tore my filter. Eddie, do you have a spare?”
“Anything for the Princess of Biology.”
He gives you a little smirk, and you feel your cheeks heat slightly. You can’t help gazing at his strong, ring-clad hands as he hands you the little circle of absorbent paper.
It becomes somewhat of a game, you playing the Princess and he the rescuing knight.
But for all your teasing you genuinely do actually want to help him pass the class. You don’t want him to have to repeat the year - you’ve seen him play at The Hideout and you know he’s meant for greater things.
It’s just biology, it can’t be any harder than what little you’ve picked up about that complicated game he plays, which seems to be all numbers, convoluted plots and organising “campaigns”, whatever they are. You’re sure he could pass if he’d just apply himself.
Or, perhaps, he just needs the right tutor…?
You’d broached it with your science teacher, offering to help ‘any students who were behind’ for extra credits. After he’d agreed you’d approached Eddie that same day, offering to come to his home and help him with his overdue assignments.
He was confused and skeptical at first, thinking this could all be some elaborate prank, but you were gentle and persuasive, and he’d agreed to pick you up later that day.
You’re sitting on his worn-out sofa, draped with a well loved but soft blanket. You’ve spent the last hour trying to get Eddie to understand cellular respiration (“Isn’t it just, like, breathing in and out?” “No, Eddie, this is cell biochemistry, it’s a bit more complicated than that”), but nothing you attempt seems to be working.
He’s despondent, won’t look at you, and seems resigned to his fate of never passing this particular subject, interjecting with statements like,
“Look, it’s just not going in.”
“I don’t know how to make it stick.”
“I don’t think I’ll get it, Princess, even if you beat it into me.”
The innuendo (accidental or not) is driving you crazy. As is Eddie’s lack of self belief.
You’d even tried explaining it by using D&D analogies.
“Think of the chemical reactions like individual characters interacting in groups. Like, if this particular troupe disband and some make allegiances with another, the group has different skills and attributes now, right?” But after a promising start even that doesn’t seem to hold his attention.
In fact, the more animated you get and closer you sit, the more distracted and fidgety he becomes, unwilling to engage fully with you and shifting uncomfortably.
You move further towards him on the sofa, determined to give it one last shot, and force him to make eye contact with you.
Their colour and depth surprises you as you look into them properly for the first time, noticing their rich, swirling chocolate and whiskey hues.
Your eyes briefly drop to his lips, the soft pink, plump, velvety pillows looking mightily enticing. God, they’re perfect.
Goosebumps rise on your arm as you feel his surprisingly soft curls tickle your shoulder.
Okay, you knew he was cute, but up close? Fucking hell…
You lean across your notes and over to the text book that’s on his other side. Your thighs are touching, and as you twist the side of your breast makes contact with his arm. If he looked slightly down and towards you he’d be able to see right down the neck of your tank top. You kind of hope he does.
Huffing, you prod at the book with your hand, hoping that the diagram on the page might make everything clearer. The movement makes your boobs jiggle a little.
You hadn’t noticed he’d stopped breathing and he suddenly lets out a huff of breath, covering it with a badly faked cough. His cheeks have flushed a light shade of pink.
So, you definitely weren’t imagining all that stuff in class.
Fuck it. You consider this might be the only opportunity you might get to do this, so decide to grab it. After all, academic tutelage was only part of your motivation to get him alone, and something you’ve been thinking about for a long time, one of the fantasies that keeps you up at night, pops into your head. One that would definitely get his attention. And if you can’t help his confidence academically, perhaps you can help with it somewhere else. Call it interpersonal tutelage…?
With as much nonchalance as you can muster, you say, “Um, maybe we should take a break. Y’know, relax a little?”
You scootch away to the end of the sofa, putting your back against the armrest and bringing your feet up onto the cushion in front of you. You grab a couple of throw cushions and slot them behind you, getting comfortable.
Eddie seems to relax a little too once you’ve moved away, but still looks uneasy.
God, are you really going to do this? What if he screams and runs away, or worse, tells his friends, or your classmates..? No, you’ve been thinking about this for far too long. Oh, fuck it x 2…
Feigning a stretch, you arch your back and place your hands at the back of your waist, pushing your chest, and breasts, upwards. Then you move them to the sides of your ribs, glancing over the sides of your boobs, seemingly-innocently pushing them together. You move a hand underneath one of your breasts, cupping it gently in the crook of your thumb and forefinger.
Eddie is still sitting tensely on the front edge of the sofa cushions, stealing sideways glances at you through the curtain of his hair.
“C’mon, Eddie, get comfy with me. It’ll help, I promise.”
Self-consciously, Eddie shifts himself and sits facing you, cross-legged, at the other end of the sofa. You give him a soft smile, which he returns with a slightly bashful one of his own, afterwards rolling his lips inwards between his teeth.
Okay, it’s now or never. Are you gonna be able to concentrate on this, Eddie?
You hum quietly, and almost closing your eyes you run a palm down your chest and over your belly. You drop one knee slightly out to the side, and run your hand down the inside of your thigh and back up it, eventually pushing your fingers between your thighs and cupping your mound with your palm.
You see Eddie’s eyes widen and hear a stifled choke.
Your hand moves to fully cup your breast, and you lightly trace your thumb over your hardening nipple whilst the hand between your legs begins to apply gentle pressure, making you inhale deeply.
Eddie watches you, agape, bringing his hands together and clasping one hand over the other in front of him, you surmise to disguise his burgeoning bulge.
You open your eyes a little, keeping them soft and half lidded, and gently smile in Eddie’s direction, ensuring he’s still watching you.
Using both hands to pop the button and lower the zipper on your jeans, you tease yourself by running the pretty elastic trim of your your panties between your fingertips, pulling it slightly away from you and letting it snap back onto your abdomen.
“Uh…”, he swallows hard, and you internally groan at the sight of his Adam’s apple bobbing in that delicious neck, “What’re you doing..?”
“What does it look like I’m doing, Eddie? I’m… relaxing…”
Sighing out the last word, you choose this moment to slip your hand down the front of your underwear, sliding over your mound and dipping just the tip of one finger between your folds, feeling the wetness that’s already pooled there. Your forehead furrows a little and you let out a quiet, contented hum.
Eddie’s eyes widen further and his eyebrows disappear completely under his bangs, and he sounds a little like he’s suffocating.
He tries to move further away from you along the sofa, unsuccessfully however as he’s wedged against the other armrest.
“Uh, I can, y’know, leave, or you could use my room, or, I can take you home, or, or-”
He’s babbling, and looking everywhere but at you. That’s not what you want at all, and you’re also concerned that he looks so uncomfortable.
“I can stop, if you want…”
He rushes out a reply, almost shouting the first syllable.
“N-NO! Um, no, it’s okay, really.”
“Okay, Eddie, stay right there. Keep your eyes on me, I wanna give you a show.”
He looks even more shocked, jaw dropping open, and you think he might bolt. But after a moment it’s clear that despite being full of anxiety, fear and self-consciousness, his curiosity, hormones and horniness are winning out, and he fixes his gaze on you.
He manages to squeak out, “Ok-aay…”
You lift your hips, using both hands to push your jeans and underwear down your legs until they reach your ankles. You slowly splay your knees, finally exposing yourself fully to Eddie’s gaze. One hand comes back to your breast, and you pinch your fabric-covered nipple between your thumb and forefinger.
He takes in the sight before him, the soft fur around your core, your wet folds glistening in the dim light of his living room, your sultry gaze, the peaks of your hardened nipples now visible through the thin fabric of your top.
He lets out a stuttering breath as his hips involuntarily shift underneath him, trying to find some friction.
“Jeezus fuck, Princess, are you tryin’a kill me?”
You try to think of something that might help relax him.
“If it helps you can imagine that we’re still studying. How about a quick lesson in female anatomy..?”
You move your hand down and with featherlight touches trace your fingertips around your pussy.
“Now, this whole area is my vulva.”
Eddie gulps.
Making a vertical line you trace your fingers over your wet lips.
“These are my labia.”
Eddie’s lips press together and he lets out a stammering hum, closing his eyes momentarily before snapping them back open so he doesn’t miss a thing.
“Are you paying attention, Eddie? This part is really important. This-,” you inhale sharply as you trail your wet fingers upwards and make contact, “This is where you’ll find my clit- fuck-”
It feels so delicious you almost don’t manage to finish your sentence, and you let out a long, low hum. Part of you doesn’t want to stop, but you’ve got more planned. Moving your fingers down again, you say,
“And this, here? This is my vagina…”
With a smile, you watch him stare as you dip a fingertip into your sopping hole, letting out a low moan as you gradually slip it inside of you.
“You know what the g-spot is, Eddie? I can show you where to find it, if you want me to…?”
You slide your finger in further, curling it towards your front wall, almost managing to tickle that certain spot within and letting out a loud groan.
At the other end of the sofa Eddie gasps an inhale, whimpering slightly, and you see him press the heel of his hand into his crotch. The combination of his sounds and actions is making you impossibly wetter - the boys you’ve been with before didn’t do much of either, and you didn’t know how much it turned you on.
You watch his face as he stares intently at your weeping centre as you slowly, so slowly move your finger in and out a few times.
“D’you think you’ll remember that, Eddie?”
“I promise I’ll fuckin’ try, Jesus Christ…”
He swallows again, exhaling heavily.
Deciding it’s time for the main event, you bring the hand that was squeezing your breast down your body, moving your fingertips to your clit and applying gentle pressure.
“I want you to see how wet you make me, Eddie. I want you to know how much I enjoy you watching my ass in biology class, how often I’ve thought about it when I’m alone. How much I like checking yours out in those oh-so tight jean- oh!”
A particularly exquisite circle followed by a firm press on your clit makes you moan out loud. The combination of both your hands has you close, closer than you imagined you’d be at this stage. It takes much longer when you’re by yourself, and you’re surprised and excited by just how much you’re enjoying having Eddie watch you.
Eddie’s fully gripping himself through his jeans now and is breathing heavily through his nose. He looks big, and you salivate at the thought.
You really want to see what he’s been hiding inside that tight denim.
“Show me, Eddie, I wanna see you.”
Hesitantly, never having experienced anything even close to this before, Eddie mumbles,
“You, uh…?”
“I wanna see you. Take out your cock. Let me see all of you, please.”
He’s rubbing himself, and you can see how strained his jeans are, a wet stain now visible in the dark fabric.
Slowly, eyes never leaving your face and looking for any tiny indication that you’re uncomfortable or have changed your mind, he slowly undoes his button and pulls down his zipper.
His languid pace is killing you, but in a good way; you realise he most likely has no idea what this is doing to you.
He rearranges the front of his jeans, opening the fly wide and leaving nothing but a thin layer of checkered cotton covering his member. The tent it’s creating is impressive.
He watches you stare and run your wet tongue over your bottom lip.
Letting out a nervous breath between pursed lips, he pushes one hand beneath the waistband of his boxers, using his thumb and two fingers to hold his cock at the base. Using his other hand he slowly, agonisingly slowly, pulls the fabric out and downwards, gradually exposing his full member to the lights of the room and to you.
You pause your own movements and spend a moment taking it in. It’s long, with an impressive girth - you briefly wonder whether he knows what he’s packing - and it’s the prettiest shade of pink you’ve ever seen. Lengthy, veined, slightly curved, and thick, so thick.
Eddie watches your expression for a moment. Satisfied that you’re not freaked or about to run away screaming, he brings the rest of his fingers to join the others, wrapping himself fully in his fist and squeezing gently, causing a little bead of precum to collect on the tip.
You take in the sight before you for a few moments, then utter, completely honestly, “Eddie, in case no one’s ever told you this, you have a really beautiful dick.”
His face and neck turn the second-prettiest shade of pink you’ve ever seen.
“No one’s ever told me that before, Princess.” Adding, almost in a whisper, “In fact, no one’s ever seen it.”
He chuckles lightly through that last sentence, embarrassed at what he’s just admitted. The ego boost of your comments has clearly given him some confidence though, as he adds with a slight smirk, a little breathy as he runs the pad of his thumb unhurriedly over his tip, “You, uh, really think so?”
Oh, so he likes me watching him too?
You can’t take your eyes off of it.
“I really do, Eddie. It’s so pretty.”
As if to confirm your statement you resume your hand movements, adding another finger and resuming circling your clit with the other. You notice that Eddie’s started moving too, his hand moving over himself in a deft gripping and twisting motion, his hips bucking up every now and again.
For a few moments neither of you say anything, the only sounds in the room your combined panting breaths and the lewd movements of wet skin.
Your clit is swollen and supremely sensitive, and, pushing in a little further, your fingers just tickle that exquisite spot within you.
You moan as you imagine it’s Eddie’s pretty cock inside you. That he’s leaning over you, thrusting into you, hitting that spot effortlessly. Maybe even talking to you, telling you how good your pussy feels, how well you’re taking him…
Suddenly your eyes roll back in your head and your mouth hangs open, a gutteral moan emerging from your chest as you get closer and closer.
Bringing your attention back to him you mumble, hurriedly,
“Jeezus Eddie, I’m gonna cum, you wanna see me cum?”
“Fuck, sweetheart, I’ve never wanted anything more in my entire fucking life.”
Eddie’s words come out in a spluttering rush and on his last word your breathing halts, your muscles lock and you cum, hard, clenching around your fingers and letting out an involuntary strangled scream.
Somewhere in the back of your fuzzy mind you think you hear Eddie let out a loud, “Holy shhhiiiit!”
You come down a little, opening your eyes and locking them with Eddie’s. You ride out your aftershocks, humming as you feel your fingers inside of you and your juices running down them. You eventually remove your fingers from your cunt, leaving its puffy wetness fully on display, and trace them around your lips and clit.
“F-fuck, Princess, that’s the hottest goddamn thing I’ve ever fuckin’ seen…”
Eddie’s red-faced and panting, his cock still very much standing to attention in his now vice-like grip, the tip an angry red and leaking copious amounts of precum. His eyes are blown dark, the chocolate rims almost completely obscured. His face and neck are flushed and he’s covered in a sheen of sweat, and he’s clenching his jaw, looking like he’s trying desperately not to bust.
“Are you ok over there, Eddie?”
“Shit, yeah, yes, I mean, fuck.”
Breathily, you ask him,
“Do you wanna cum?”
“Fuck yes, I just, I didn’t know whether you wanted me to.”
“Oh I do Eddie, I really do. It’s your turn now. You gonna cum for me? Please, let me see you lose it, show me everything you’ve got.”
He breathes out a loud sigh in what seems like relief. You like how good he’s being for you, learning yet more about yourself that you didn’t know before.
His fist speeds up as his other hand comes to hold his balls, deftly stroking and rolling the flesh. His brow furrows deeply and his lips clamp shut around a low moan. He’s staring intently at you, eyes flicking between your face and your still-dripping cunt.
Suddenly his expression turns to one resembling surprise, as his eyebrows lift and his mouth opens, a string of expletives leaving those perfect, plump lips,
“Fuck, fuck, Jeezus, motherf-, oh my-, fuckfuckfuuuck!”
His jaw drops as his abdomen contracts, and his eyes fix on your cunt as he jets hot ropes of white cum into the air and over his fist and t-shirt. There’s so much, and it seems never ending.
The sight is even better than you’d imagined it might be and your hips buck up into your hand, making you press your fingers into your clit again triggering another aftershock, and you find yourself moaning along with him.
For a few moments there’s more silence, aside from your panting and heavy breathing.
Eventually Eddie chuckles a little, and you huff a breath out through your nose with a smile on your face.
You’re both a sweaty, sticky mess, but neither of you care.
“Fuck, Eddie, that was…” You’re lost for words.
“Amazing? Incredible?” Seeing the grin plastered across Eddie’s face is easily as gratifying as all the other stuff you’ve done tonight.
You both giggle as Eddie says, “Fuck me, Princess, you’re definitely the best tutor I’ve ever had.”
Neither of you really want to move, but some cleanup is definitely necessary. Eddie takes the blanket from the sofa and throws it in the washer, cleaning up quickly in the bathroom, letting you know when it’s free and returning in a change of clothes, throwing the others in with the blanket.
As you both process what’s just transpired you share timid glances and half smiles.
You both sit on the sofa again as you start to pack up your notes and books. In another unforeseen realisation, you’re surprised at how much you’ve enjoyed Eddie’s company, and the warm feeling you get inside every time he looks at you is entirely unexpected.
You realise you’re gonna have to be the one to say something, and give Eddie a smirk.
“So, how about next time we do some practical revision on, maybe, male anatomy?”
He looks a little surprised, but certainly not unhappy at the suggestion that there might actually be a ‘next time’.
“You really wanna, uh, tutor me again?”
Nodding in the affirmative, you reply, “Oh yeah, I think we’ve both learned a lot this afternoon.”
Holding his gaze, you suggest,
“Same time next week..?”
Continue studying with Lesson 2: Male anatomy
A/N 2: I’ve been having thoughts about making this a miniseries, so please let me know if you’d like to see a second “lesson” 😉
Thanks so much for reading!
Likes are great, but please also consider supporting writers with comments and reblogs - they help fics get seen, and it genuinely means the world! 🌍 ❤️
Taglist is open!
My masterlist
#virgin!eddie munson#virgin!eddie munson x tutor!reader#eddie munson#stranger things#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#Eddie Munson x you#biology smut#the biology tutor#female anatomy lesson#Eddie munson x fem!tutor!reader#stranger things fanfic#Eddie munson fanfic#Eddie munson smutty fanfic#smutty fanfic
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tutor!akaashi who started out sweet and ready to help bimbo!reader because she's inexplicably taking a super high-level literature course for her degree but she's so stupid and nothing clicks in her tiny brain so he decides that positive reinforcement (fucking her) is the only way to get her to remember anything.
"the only thing you're good at is sucking cock," akaashi groans as he recites verbatim the passage you were supposed to be remembering. "where is that from?"
you search through your memory, trying to remember all the plays and novels you studied this year but the position akaashi has you in —sitting in his lap while he thrusts up into you over and over again—has your brain turning into mush.
suddenly akaashi's tone turns disapproving and you're afraid of making him upset again.
"ah! hamlet?" you finally say, hoping that you actually got it right this time. "a-act three, sc-scene one?"
akaashi stops moving, giving your cunt a break after he's already made you cum twice. "look at that," he coos. "all you needed was some dick to get the answer right."
he doesn't give you much time to rest, flipping your bodies over until you're pinned to the bed. "k-keiji! please just gimme a second—"
"ah, ah," akaashi says, slowly burying his cock in you until he's at the hilt. "we still have three more questions to go. you want to make me proud, don't you?"
and you really, really do.
©sugawarassoulmate 2023 all rights reserved - please do not repost/translate my work on other platforms!
#haikyuu smut#haikyu smut#akaashi keiji x reader#akaashi x reader#akaashi smut#keiji akaashi smut#akaashi keiji smut#haikyuu x reader#haikyuy x reader#tutor!akaashi#🍑#🍑akaashi
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thinking about studying with Megumi and he accidentally calls you a good girl and now you need him to say it every time so you try to please him as if you can flirt through writing quadratic equations and he loves to see your cheeks go pink and how your eyes go wide and you love the way he looks at your lips and he just needs you so bad but is too afraid to make a move on his friend so he just keeps calling you good girl every time you study because you are and you seem to like it and eventually he'll admit that he's falling for you and he'll tell you in the sweetest way (with his actions- words will come later) and he'll commit to you and give you his heart and he'll be yours and you'll be his <3
#megumi imagine#megumi <3#megumi fushiguro#jjk megumi#megumi x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#megumi fluff#tutor megumi#jjk fluff#jjk drabble#megumi thoughts
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TOKREV Incorrect quotes#39 Tutor is done-
Tutor!Y/n*Explaining History to Baji*
Baji: I wanna understand but I’m a bimbo and you are standing in front of my desk so I’m face level with skirt/ass and it sways side to side -and its very distracting-
Tutor!Y/n*Has stopped working*...
#tokyo revengers#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyo revengers x y/n#tokyo rev#tokrev#tokyo rev x reader#tokyo rev x y/n#tokrev x reader#tokrev x y/n#baji keisuke#baji keisuke x reader#baji keisuke x y/n#tutor y/n#tokrev incorrect quotes#tokyo rev incorrect quotes#incorrect quotes
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Yandere! Tutor x fem reader
Warnings- slight nsfw (not actually smut), unhinged actions, stealing, obsessive/ possessive behaviour, yandere being a creep.
💋Yandere! Tutor who had always admired you in a pathetic longing way. His eyes would constantly be locked on your form, almost salivating as soon as you come into view.
💋Yandere! Tutor who almost started jumping up and down upon your shared teacher asking him to tutor you. He would become such a flustered shaky mess. During the first study session, he would be so excited and nervous that he would almost trip over his own two feet.
💋Yandere! Tutor who, after a few sessions, would start stealing your stationary. He would keep all of your possessions in his shrine he made for you. And every night he would sit on his knees in a praying position in front of it while jerking off to you and the photos he had sneakily taken of you. All of which he has printed out and covering the entirety of his room.
💋Yandere! Tutor who starts teaching you the wrong content just to keep you with him longer. “Don’t worry my little love, you tried your best. We can always have a few more sessions” he would coo in your ear while caressing your head.
💋Yandere! Tutor who, after each session, would lay his head on your seat that you just vacated. Inhaling your sweet sent and soaking up all of your delicate pussy’s warmth.
#yandere scenarios#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere tutor#yandere behavior#yandere x you#yandere x darling#yandere suggestion#yandere x female reader
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I'm editing Philosophy 101 and I'm rereading my smut and I-
😳
Who fucking wrote this filth, could absolutely not have been me-
Anyway I'm getting it ready to be published on Wattpad soon LMAO
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Tutor: Long Overdue
Words: 3k+
Type: Some angst, but fluff
Summary: The days after the argument.
Warnings: Rafe is the softest boyfriend in the world. Y/N has some problems with overthinking and anxiety here. Mentions of alcohol. Mentions of narcissist friends. A filler chapter for you to take a breath in the middle of the angst.
Tutor Masterlist
I do NOT give you permission to repost my work. If you’d like to read my stories on other platforms, you can find them on my Wattpad and AO3.
You wish you could say that everything went by smoothly after that conversation. But you would be lying if you said so.
When you got out of that car, your hands were visibly shaking. It was out of your control. It was a mix of all your emotions just building up inside you and wanting to come out all at once. It was the frustration, the anger, the disappointment, and the sadness. You hated every single second of that conversation. How helpless you felt at times. The way your supposed friends looked at you as you spoke. It was as if you had gone insane.
Thankfully, when inside the house, Wheezie had run upstairs for a quick shower before your tutoring class, or else she would’ve seen you cry your eyes out in front of her brother. You felt weak for doing so, but you still did it. You cried the entire time you told Rafe everything about what had happened. You noticed how he had no idea what to say or what to do for you, other than give you comfort. And you let him do it, as that felt like what you needed too.
When Wheezie had come back downstairs with her things - since she wanted to study outside this time - you had already wiped your tears clean and didn’t feel like you would cry at every sentence that left your lips. To your luck, your eyes didn’t appear too puffy when she laid her eyes on you, which spared you from many questions.
By the time you were helping her study, Rafe still kept a close eye on you. He would never disappear from your view for too long, always either sitting on his phone on the porch or coming out to the table near the pool, where the two of you were. He made you and Wheezie laugh from time to time.
It lifted your mood ever so slightly, but deep down you still were filled with worry and hurt. How far could this go? Could the girls go further than this? Maybe by telling other people, or simply talking to their other friends about this. Was there a possibility this could get to your parents before you even had the chance of finishing high school as you had planned?
All these questions, they made worry bubble in your blood at the most random of times during that afternoon. By the end of it, Ward and Rose eventually came home. Rafe was by the island of the kitchen when Rose stepped out of the kitchen to get you your monthly paycheck, and Sarah Cameron stood in that kitchen for a single second, and the first thing she said to you was: “Are you okay? You look… down.”
If that did anything to you was to force yourself to put on a better act. You were just about to go home as Ward had asked for Rafe to drive you. You didn’t want your parents to see you and ask the same things. It would be harder to lie to them than to Sarah.
You two sat in the car in silence for a bit, and you could feel Rafe’s eyes on you. Silence only gave you the excuse to want to cry more, even when you still felt ridiculous for it. You tried to hold it back, but whenever a tear would slip, Rafe was there. He calmed you down and held your hand or sometimes said something that would make your heart hurt less.
At home, you forced yourself to make conversation with your parents - knowing that if you didn’t, they would’ve followed you to your room to find a reason behind your silence. All of it was forced and unnatural small talk, but your parents didn’t seem to notice. Your mom was too focused on making a new recipe for dinner, and your dad was too focused on his reading to look up from the book in his hands.
The rest of the day wasn’t any easier. Rafe asked if you wanted to come over, but you know that it wouldn’t make anything easy. It would simply make your feelings go temporarily numb. You didn’t need that. You needed to just face it for what it is: a stupid confrontation that you saw coming from a mile away because it had to happen eventually. It just came sooner than you expected.
Sleep didn’t come easy either. By the time you finally fell asleep, there weren’t many hours of rest before having to get up for class. You hid whatever hints of your exhaustion with make-up, as well as put on a happier expression just so you could make your way through the house and to school without any questions coming from your parents.
Breakfast was uneventful, just like dinner the day before. And your dad drove you to school just as you had planned beforehand.
In class, if you were used to the girls' looks before, this day had been another level of staring. And given the fact that you share every class with each of them, your sadness and worry quickly turned into anger by lunch hour. They didn’t try to speak to you or even ambush you all at once again. They just sat there at their little tables watching you as if you were some experiment about to go wrong.
Kristy wasn’t in school. She missed every single one of her classes. And all that made you think was how thankful you were for the lack of her staring too.
By the time you were done with classes for the day and inside Rafe’s car, you were still in your depressing bubble but more annoyed than anything else. And that is when a call from Patty came in. There was going to be a party tonight.
You're not ashamed to admit you didn’t even think twice before answering her. You wanted to go to that party. And you did.
Not that you remember much from it now that you lay on Rafe’s bed, silently contemplating your life choices, but you like to think that you had fun.
You remember how you got to the party with Rafe, and quickly found Patty, who made sure to give you as many drinks as you wished to have.
Rafe stepped away to find Topper and Kelce only after he made sure that Patty was going to actually stay by your side the whole night and entertain you enough.
You drank cup after cup of different concoctions made by Patty herself. Some were actually good, others… she just told you to drink it all in one gulp.
You were able to disconnect from reality while sitting in that kitchen with her, drinking and listening to her talk you through the process of making another drink. You two talked for a long time, or at least for enough time until the both of you weren’t exactly speaking in obvious and comprehensible sentences but in slurred words filled with giggles.
And you remember that you went off to find Rafe at some point. You remember that he was very much sober at that time. You remember flashes of sitting on that couch with him and his friends. Patty would eventually join you on the couch and start a conversation that would make a lot more sense than any of the guys' around the table. You also remember that it was way funnier at the time than now.
Also, at one point into the night, you decided that playing, or better, patting Rafe’s buzzed head was the best idea you could ever have. Your drunk mind must have been blown to realize how weird it felt to touch his short hair and feel it prickle your palm. Rafe didn’t seem to mind it too much - even though he must have told you to stop at one point because you remember being dramatically hurt by something he said to you.
Maybe you had exaggerated by deciding to numb your thoughts with alcohol when you know that hanging out with these people would simply do the job. You didn’t need to get that drunk. But you still felt like it was the best time to do it, as well as with the best people.
Hanging out with people like Patty and Topper is nice. They were never your type of crowd, but even when drunk or high, last night, they did listen to you when you talked about what happened. It happened when some of you decided to step outside for some air, while others, like Rafe, decided to stay back. You told them everything, and they listened. And they also offered to help, in any way possible.
That memory alone made your heart squeeze in your chest. Maybe, yes, this is how real friends are supposed to be if they are able to. But it still felt good when they told you that if you ever needed to run away from life’s problems for a bit, they would be there for you, along with Rafe.
And to think that conversations like these resulted only from you choosing to date someone with a bad reputation.
Since the beginning, you had a feeling that you would need to talk to someone about it - you and Rafe. Simply to let them know before they find out from someone else, and everything turns shitty. And, now, all you can do is acknowledge that you missed your opportunity and everything is indeed shitty.
Your friends found out before you could even warm the waters with some information or subtle hints first. Maybe you could've told them about all the times Rafe hadn’t been like the awful cookie-cutter shape they all seem to find him fitting in at all times. You could’ve told them about how he is not bad and how he is indeed good. But you missed the opportunity to do so. You let them find out by themselves, and now they think you are in bed with a psychopath only for the thrill of it. Not with your boyfriend, who has never done a bad thing to you and is always putting you first.
Yet, even in the ocean of guilt, you can’t help but feel the anger that has begun to rise by itself. Yes, you had missed your opportunity, but your friends had also failed. They failed to speak to you in a civilized way. Failed to be there for you as they believed you were in a manipulating and abusive relationship. Failed to understand you. And failed at being your friends at the end of the day. They didn’t seem to care about your feelings that day, and they didn’t seem to care about anything but their fury toward you this week. They failed, even if you did so too.
And, as much as you hate it, there is still fear inside you. It has been pushed deep into you, hiding in a corner of your brain, stored away with other worries on top of it so it isn’t noticed by you any time soon. And that fear has a shape and name. Your parents. Because if your friends had their suspicions and found the truth, where does that put your parents?
They are a pair that believes in every word from the neighbors, as well as any word on the streets. If someone were to whisper about Rafe murdering a crocodile in the middle of the street, they would believe it - even when there aren’t any crocodiles near any roads in the OBX. They would believe it, every word of it. Maybe make theories of their own too. Imagine Rafe as this cartoonish supervillain, now wearing the skin of his victims as new shoes. It is ridiculous but absolutely believable to them.
How would they react? What would they do to you? You are of age, but still a student and living under their roof. What would they even think of you?
“Scoot over, you’re taking up the whole damn bed,” Rafe says while standing beside his bed.
You snap out of your horrible thoughts - with your mind still trying to envelop your heart with its dark and painful realities - and throw the pillow closest to you at him, hitting him in the chest. He doesn’t respond. He throws the pillow away and makes you move with a hand on your shoulder and another on your leg, pushing you further into the bed.
The coldness of the sheets under you make your body react in an uncomfortable wave of shivers, and you turn to face Rafe, who is lying on his back beside you now. On the bedside beside him, you can see that it is still early in the morning, meaning you still have a few hours before being dropped off at your house and then at school. And also, everyone in Rafe’s home is still very much asleep.
“Looking at the time won’t make it go by faster,” Rafe says, making you look at him.
“I want it to go slower, not faster.”
Rafe meets your gaze, and he holds it for a bit. A slight bit of a headache hits you right in the temple, and you try not to react by snuggling closer to the pillow under your head. Seems like you were never truly someone blessed with no headaches while hungover, just lucky on that one time.
“What’s wrong?”
“Headache.” You groan into the pillow, closing your eyes to escape his gaze for only a bit.
It takes a few seconds before he talks again.
“What else?” His tone is soft and worrisome. When hearing his question, you don’t move; not even an inch. You just lay there for a bit, listening to your own heartbeat with your ear buried in the pillow. You let some heartbeats go by in your silence, but Rafe waits for you. Never pushes you. He just waits.
“I’m… worried, I think.” You whisper so softly, you almost don’t hear yourself.
“About your friends?”
“That too,” You open your eyes as you talk, “But more about my parents.”
“Why?”
“They’re strict. Very strict,” You explain, even though you know that Rafe already knows that, or else he hadn’t been climbing your window and whispering in your room for months. “They always reacted badly to dating. And they never liked you or your family.”
“Many don’t,” he says with a small curve on his lips.
“It’s different,” you try to explain in as few words as you can, “They’re worse than Kristy or any of the girls would be.”
Rafe simply looks at you, silent. You look at him and let out a breath.
“I don’t know what they’re going to do when they find out...” You tell him, sincerely. “I just want it all to be after graduation.”
He still doesn’t say anything, so, he simply lets you talk.
“I think that’s what I’m so scared of… The fact that I don’t know what to expect from their reaction.” You sigh, “And that is why I wanted it to be later. So I can- I don’t know, run away before they get to do anything.”
“What’s the worst thing they can do?”
“I’m not sure…” You whisper, your eyes meeting his again. “Kick me out, probably. Never speak to me again,” You try to say it with a positive tone, one that doesn’t seem to consider those options to be true, when, in reality, nothing ever felt more possible than this.
Rafe makes a face that doesn’t seem like he’s convinced.
“I can’t be that bad.” And that earns him a smack.
Rafe’s laughter fills the room, and a small involuntary smile appears on your lips.
“Be serious,” You tell him, turning around to lay on your stomach and prop yourself up on your elbows. You groan with the slight headache pounding on your head, and Rafe’s hand soon lays over your head, trying to soothe the pain away.
“I’m sorry,” He says.
“I’ll think about it,” You say while meeting his eyes. Some sort of humor comes out with your words, and Rafe notices it. He grins and simply looks at you for a moment.
You two stay quiet for a little longer before you start letting more words out, explaining your worries to Rafe while he simply listens. He just lays there and nods, giving you his utmost attention.
And, as expected, you two talk for so long that time does the opposite of what you want it to. It just speeds past you two, and everyone in the house begins to get up and get ready for the day.
While listening to the doors opening and closing around the house, as well as some screaming about breakfast from one floor to the other, you two lay in Rafe’s bed in silence. Rafe’s hand is on your pillow, fallen from your hair, and now under your cheek, softly caressing it with his thumb while you lay there, hugging your pillow with your eyes closed.
Rafe stares at you for a bit. There would be no way of you catching him doing it, with your eyes closed and body ready to go back to sleep. You are laying on his bed, lacking clothes, and with only a soft white duvet over your legs all the way up to your waist. Your back is uncovered, and your hair is a mess, but the scenery is perfect. Rafe’s heart tightens at the memory of the tears you’ve spilled in the last few days. He can’t help but feel guilty over it, even when you remind him that he has nothing to feel guilty about.
You’ve told him time and time again. Whatever has happened has nothing to do with him. It has to do with control. Control that some of these people want to have over you or have had for so long - even when that control was disguised as love and worry of you ever getting hurt. Truthfully, it would’ve been indeed love if they wished to speak to you calmly and got to know Rafe. But your friends never dared to.
And Rafe knows how much you wish your parents to be different. Even when you teared up while saying it just now, Rafe listened as your tone was thick with hope - the hope of your parents to be on your side when all of it comes out. And still, all he can do is be there for you until all this ends, whenever that will be.
Rafe leans over and pulls you closer to him, which you let him with no hesitation. Your head lays over his shoulder, and your arms go around him. Rafe hugs your body close to him and kisses the top of your head, cherishing the small breath you let out as he does it.
“I love you,” you whisper to him, your breath warm against his skin.
Rafe leans his head in closer to yours and kisses your hair. There is no surprise for either of you to say it. No fear of the love not being reciprocated. No fear of rejection because all of it is obvious, even in the midst of all this mess. Those words were long overdue.
“I love you too,” He whispers, making you lean in closer to his warmth.
- - - - - -
*Giggles in 'shit is about to hit the fan but I am making y'all suffer in anticipation'*
#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagines#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron angst#rafe cameron fluff#tutor#tutor series#drew starkey#rafe cameron obx#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron one shot#rafe cameron s3#rafe outer banks#rafe x y/n#rafe angst#rafe obx#rafe imagine#rafe x reader
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accidentally deleted the ask from kitty anon elaborating on tutor!changbin but it’s most definitely on my mind ><. something about buff men in glasses.. and he’s smart too!! i wouldn’t doubt that he’d let you sit on his lap, dick buried inside you while he lectures you through the material, thorough and patient as if he wasn’t burning to rock his hips against you. his large arms would encage your own body, guiding you through the lesson, and it feels as safe as it gets having his chest pressed onto your back, his voice sultry and low against your ear.
on the opposite end, if he’s got the time to spare, he wouldn’t hesitate to tease you. bin likes to have his two fingers buried deep in your cunt, thumb just barely rubbing at your clit, all while he’s reading the questions off the pages like nothing was wrong. gotta study at the campus library? he’s already ahead of the game, asking you to slip a vibrator into your panties that he’d left at the lowest temperature, gradually increasing the speed and intensity each time you’d get something wrong. your head would be pounding by the time you manage to complete the assingment, and changbin can tell how much you’re holding back.
expect to have his cock pounding into you while you’re bent over the table when the session is done, allowing you to render brain dead on his dick after studying so hard. he’ll fuck you until he knows you’ve got nothing on your mind except for the feeling of him stretching you out, watching himself slip in and out of your cunt through the fogged lenses that rested on the tip of his nose. binnie loves telling you how proud he is of you all while his thrusts push his cum from your hole, letting it run down your thighs while his large hands grasp your waist. he takes a lot of pride knowing that your marks always end up significantly higher, though he refuses to tutor anyone except you.
#struggled so bad in math earlier today and all i could think of was how sexy changbin is#like i love a man that understands math…. ooo you want me so bad#he’s just SO handsome in glasses too ><#my life would be so much easier if i had changbin as a tutor#changbin x reader#changbin smut#skz x reader#skz smut#changbin imagines#changbin drabbles#skz imagines#skz drabbles#stray kids smut
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tutor girl & the hawkins high freak
[status: complete]
summary: eddie munson desperately needs to graduate this year, and you're the only tutor that hasn't turned him down. over the course of the last few months of your senior year, you learn there's more to eddie than what gets whispered about him in the halls, and his presence in your life completely flips your world upside down. but is it for the better, or worse?
»— anything marked with an astrik contains explicit content. minors dni.
»— all work is my own. please do not repost anywhere else without my consent.
part one: i'm not above begging
part two: shakespeare is metal
part three: a compromise
part four: above average
part five: sounds so pretty when you beg*
part six: one huge misunderstanding*
part seven: remember that i love you
part eight: we'll handle it together*
part nine: hawkins high class of 1986
epilogue: plenty of time
#tutor girl & the hawkins high freak masterlist#tutor girl & the hawkins high freak series#eddie munson#eddie munson series#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x f!reader#eddie munson fic#eddie munson x tutor!reader#eddie munson smut#stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things smut#stranger things series
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