#heavy truck maintenance | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nouearth · 3 months

Text

red right hand.

pairing. henry cavill x male reader.

word count. 7.3k.

summary. if there was one thing to give your dad credit for (other than helping create your very existence), it was that he has an insanely hot best friend. it was a universal admiration your neighborhood shared with one another. though, how many actively feasted upon their fantasies regarding that hunk of a man? probably only you, because mr. cavill was more than a crush, he was an addiction. and on one summer day, mr. cavill realized that so were you.

content warning. college!reader, dad's best friend!henry, neighbor!henry, age gap, blowjob (r!giving), degrading, throat-fucking, choking, gagging, spitting, kissing, humiliation, body and muscle worship, rough-play, size difference, dirty talk, verbal, praising, size kink.

The warm wind fanned the sweat off your forehead when you slid your window open. The ledge stained your fingers with particles of dust. Grimacing at the fuzz and simultaneous stickiness, it also provoked a storm of laziness as steel reminders from your dad got caught up in the commotion: CLEAN THE HOUSE.

CAR MAINTENANCE.

STOP ORDERING TAKE-OUT AND COOK.

SORT THE ATTIC.

TIDY GARAGE.

CHECK STOVE IGNITIONS BEFORE LEAVING THE HOUSE.

LOCK THE DOORS.

Ya-dah, ya-dah…

Honestly, how could you check-off any of these tasks with this heatwave currently going on? You were sweating bullets, been sweating enough to bathe in your own salt for days now—which you technically were already doing. It was summer, the long-awaited season after the agony of allergies. A temporary relief to your studies as well, until the humidity hit you like a truck and made you realize that living back in a dorm wasn’t so bad.

At least the building had a functional air-conditioner.

“Uh-huh, yep.” Your dad’s voice was going in one ear and out the other as you rummaged through your cabinets for a snack. Cereal; stale. Canned meat; too heavy. Potato chips; not heavy enough. “Dad, you know you’ve gone on business trips before, right? This isn’t the first time I’ve been alone.”

“I know, but I’m just making sure. It’s a new house, and I’ve been watching these true crime documentaries about men leaving clubs and—“

“Well, the first mistake was going to a sketchy club in the first place…” You muttered, peering into the fridge, and then lingering, because refrigerator air has never felt so cooling against your skin. You duck your head to puzzle yourself into the cold box, dumbfounded that the heat had gotten you irritated enough to claim a bag of deli meat as your bunkmate for the time being. The sound of your dad’s frustrated sigh on the other line curled your frown into a smile, and you laughed, “I’m a big boy. Stop worrying, and go enjoy—Ow!“ You bumped your head against the door on your way out.

“How can I not worry when you just referred to yourself as a ‘big boy?’ Not even a man?!” You never realized how theatric the man was. It was like his presence never left the house, exaggerated hand movements and all wafting the smell of his homemade meals whenever he would scold you in his favorite place: the kitchen. You smiled at the fond memories.

“Good point—“ Though they were made at your old house, you were sure that once he’d returned, your dad wouldn’t be opposed to creating new memories of scolding your ass off on whatever trouble you’d get into. If you do, that is. You’ve grown since then, finding yourself too tired to socialize.

“Remember, spare key’s in the birdhouse. There’s a compartment at the side of it. Hopefully birds haven’t evolved enough to pick it open.”

“If they have, they’d be picking at our locks right now to kidnap me and probably feast on my body.” Luckily, the fridge was stocked before your dad had left. You crucified him for being overly-prepared at times, but for this month, it was an exception. You picked at a slice of deli meat and cheese, and stuffed it down your mouth.

“Not funny, (M/N).”

“I’m kidding, Dad. Lighten up! I know you’re nervous about presenting, but they invited you to talk to an audience for a reason. They like you. Just be yourself, and remember not to speak so fast. Have some water on standby too.” And speaking of the devil, you gulped down a glass of iced water to cool down your body as your dad chuckled in your ear.

“I know, I know, thanks.” A muffled sound on the other end filled the silence, sounds of people passing and cars honking passing through your ear. “Alright, my ride’s here. I’ll call as soon as I get to the hotel, okay? You better answer—Oh! I forgot to tell you! Henry’s coming over later to look at the car.”

“Henry—Oh, Mr. Cavill? He’s in the neighborhood?” The name rattled a familiar feeling inside of your stomach. Something rather warm, suddenly ravenous when you thought about the last time you saw him.

“Actually, he was the one that told me about this house! He lives down the street. But tool’s in the garage if he asks for them, okay?”

“Y-yeah, okay. Got it.” You hadn’t seen him many times. Only when you’d come home from semester breaks, yet the mere mention of his name had you flustered as if he was a long-lost friend or something.

“Okay, gotta go. Love you, and remember, lock your doors! Bye!”

“I will! Bye…” Your phone blinked back to your previous app after ending the call.

You knew he was your dad’s best friend; a divorced father and a bachelor unsurprisngly made a match in heaven.

He was someone that shared your father’s interest in tabletop games and comic books. A replacement for yourself you thought earlier on, but he was way more knowledgeable about those interest than you ever were. You grew up on your dad’s nostalgia. For Mr. Cavill and your dad? These memories altered them who they would be in the future.

He was a friend that would help your dad out on building projects, like that birdhouse he had mentioned. He was a charming man that built the PC you currently use after hearing you complain about the previous laptop you had. And best of all, his looks were as abundant as his kindness. Standing over six feet tall, with a chiseled face that matched an equally sculpted body; he’d been a little crush since you first met him, being the only man who was capable of rendering you utterly speechless.

And in present, the only man who had the power to tighten your briefs and shorts with only a passing thought of his body; muscular and athletic in all the right places. If only your dad could somehow muster up a beach day before summer ended. Either way, the image of his bare body excited you, the blood flow immediately rushing south in agreement. Your dick kissed your shorts at the thought water cascading off his hulking body like meltwater over an ice shelf, freezing you in your place to not-so-subtly gawk.

“Jesus…” Your body couldn’t catch a break, could it? With the ramping heat and the constant sweating, your erection only added fuel to the bonfire that was the pores of your skin. Your cock pulsed madly within the constraint of your briefs, teasing yet begging to be released, to be sheathed from its slick, because it knew you had the key to its relief.

Or rather, Mr. Cavill did.

It was pathetic. You’d been at this for a year now. As much as you were unfamiliar with Mr. Cavill’s disposition, it was certainly the opposite regarding his physical appearance. Though it hadn’t exactly occur to you when this crush of yours had been tiptoeing along the lines of obsession.

Wait, was it an obsession..? No, no, it was just a crush.

You hadn’t done anything wrong. All you had done was browse through his social media—he did follow you, and you mutually pursued—and stalked—no—scrolled through his posts. Thank god, he was an avid poster. Pictures of his selfies, his knack for grilling, his love for his pet dogs, his pride over his geeky hobbies, his friendship with your dad and mutual buddies—all of these pieces attributed to allowing you to get to know him more as you were rotting away on campus, missing life back at home. Like clockwork, looking at his feed brought a sense of comfort, a hope that maybe you could be part of his life as well.

“God, what I’d do to ride that mustache…” You blurted out your thoughts, hyper-aware that you were alone in the house. You’d been waiting for this. You’d been surrounded by your roommates 24/7, and then once break started, your dad wanted to insert himself into your schedules as much as he could before the next semester starts.

As much as you loved them, you needed space. A space bigger than the privacy of your own room. You deserved the whole house to yourself after enduring months of agony from overdue assignments; stress from bickering roommates that led to chaos within the dorm. You haven’t jerked off properly in months, often resorting to a quick session that comforted you on the occasions you’d have to pull multiple all-nighters to get a project done.

You needed relief.

You needed pleasure.

“Fuck,” Your eyes had been fixated on Mr. Cavill’s social media feed as you stripped yourself free of clothing. On one hand, it helped your body cool off from the heat building in the house. On the other, you felt vulnerable, like someone could walk in on you any second, and god, was that a turn-on.

A grid of his life displayed happily before you, and your thumb scrolled aimlessly in pursuit of multiple pictures ingrained in your brain that had your cock throbbing in your palm. You laid flat on the couch, earbuds fit snug in the canals after briefly switching apps to play your favorite porn in the background of your search. Your stomach sunk deep when the man began moaning in your ears. Hot like the blistering sun outside; you can imagine Mr. Cavill breathing against you like that, as you took his cock in like the video you had playing. Your balls pulled when the man grunted, “Right there,” and you couldn’t help but pull at the ache of your cock, then at your balls to fondle at the loose stretch of skin.

“Right there,” you repeated when your thumb paused at the desired video of Mr. Cavill. Another major part of his lifestyle was working out. Strength training, cardio, marathons. You name it, Mr. Cavill did it all, exceptionally well, and the crème de la crème of it all was that he bared his torso for most of his videos. “Fuck, you’re so big… Fuck, fuck…”

It was like watching a warrior prepare for battle. Sweat dripped off the holiest parts of his body as he pumped his muscles with heavy weights. Grunts, heavy and lewd sounds filled your ears while Mr. Cavill powered through his body’s resistance. You wondered to yourself if he could take you like that. Force you to take him with brute strength like the weights in his muscular, veiny hands. You were stroking yourself to him, every part of him, palm slick with sweat and spit. Two fingers would get the job done, stretching you out in preparation for his cock. Though, you knew deep down that it would take more than that. Three, or maybe even four, considering the hunk of a man was seemingly built from metal. The video replayed multiple times before you remembered that he had more than enough content for you to jerk off to. You were barely five minutes in, but this was already more pleasurable than whatever you had endured back at the dorms. Your cock felt pleased, spitting out dribbles of thick pre-cum that loosened the stick of your palm as donation to your generosity.

“Fuck, Henry…” You rarely referred to him by his first name. It felt unusual. You were much younger than him. Addressing someone closer to your dad’s age felt rude, like you were trying to assert your dominance despite your age difference. You were many things, but disobedient was not one of them. However, you couldn’t lie. His name felt polishing to your tongue, something that could improve the taste of dreadful meals if one were to whisper it before taking a spoonful.

His name felt like a miracle.

Your sexual appetite was nourished by the frames of Mr Cavill’s second video. He was completely unaware he was bulging, free-balling in his sweaty shorts while he pursued his vitality through jumping jacks, lunges, toe-touches—cardio galore that made his heavy cock bounce in rhythm. You could tell he was large, gifted with insane girth to the point where you could make out the shape of his cock just from him stretching. And the smell; sweat sticking on thick curly hairs on his chest, and a happy trail that seemed to promise a world of musk if you ever had an opportunity to endeavor upon your curiosities. You were practically salivating for him, saliva pooling where your tongue sank, while your cock leaked. You pumped yourself quicker and harder at the frustration that your desire to taste Mr. Cavill’s cock would remain a pipe dream.

All that left you was your imagination, and your own musk. Pulling up at your glans, you squeezed out thick loads of pre-cum before swiping it with your thumb and tasting it off with a suck. Salty, bitterly pleasant on your tongue, and satiated enough to not let your libido falter at the disappointment that it wasn’t Mr. Cavill’s pre-cum, but rather smolder.

“Oh, fuck my mouth… I need that cock, Mr. Cavill. Please—“ The frames of the third video showcased him flexing his arms and torso. His body bursted with pride, veins surging through every fiber of muscle like they were charging him and his very existence. It was veiny too, wasn’t it? His cock. Large and veiny, like how you’d like it. You would struggle fitting him inside of your mouth while his cock veins pulsed with great pleasure knowing that it was Mr. Cavill’s kink that you couldn’t take him.

No one could.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—“ Your eyes rolled back. The slurping sounds from the porn increased by tenfold as you pumped the volume by a few decibels. Lewd, slick sounds you wished you could perform on Mr. Cavill himself violated your ear drums. Pleasure him. Thank him on your knees for being so kind to your father. For building your PC without compensation. For providing you temporarily relief while you were away on campus, and could only jerk off under the blanket. You were grateful for him. For Mr. Cavill. For his thick arms. For his veiny forearms. For his dashing good-looks. For his muscles. For his strong cock. You’d give yourself to him if you could. Worship every inch of his step, every inch of his body, and that still wouldn’t be enough to show your appreciation towards him.

Your fist tightened. Your other hand had grown limp by now, dropping your phone to the floor by mistake, but you were too fixated on the pleasure your cock was receiving to retrieve it back. You could watch it from where you were laying, just like this, slickly twisting and pumping your cock to the sound of the porn, to the sound of Mr. Cavill grunting simultaneously as if his thick cock was being feasted on like a hungry beast. “Mr. Cavill, please—I’m going to—“

One earbud slipped from the sweat building on your body, but you were close. So fucking close to coming. And when you do, you’d come on your phone.

All over Mr Cavill’s pecs. His abs. His crotch. His face. Anywhere, as long as it was your friendly neighbor, because—

“Enjoying yourself, (M/N)?”

A voice from behind you alerted your body to jolt and whip around upon instinct to defend yourself. Naked or not, you weren’t going to die, not in the hands of a burglar.

Though, as soon as you did, you regretted it. You felt like stone. Cold, hard stone as all signs of life seemingly felt like it had been sucked dry out of your body, with your erection taking up most of the produce surprisingly as you confronted the intruder.

The six-feet, muscular, handsome, and familiar man of an intruder.

“M-Mr. Cavill?! What—When did you—“ You were flustered. Radiant heat blooming like the season of Spring across several patches of your naked body. It also didn’t help that your porn could be heard from earbuds once you took the remaining one out, albeit a bit muffled. And your phone, it was facing the ceiling, looping the video of Mr. Cavill training over and over again. Right before him.

Your body was shaking, physically evident despite your efforts to conceal the tremors as the man stared you down, unfazed by the drama of it all. “Fuck—“ You didn’t know what to turn off first. The porn? The video of him working out? Or maybe dressing yourself should be a priority because—Mr. Cavill was still staring, blues lingering on your naked body, seemingly outlining every drop of sweat that followed the contours of your figure. There was movement that naturally caught your attention.

It was his hand, large and muscular over the center of his shorts. Rubbing, squeezing, fondling at an evidently large mass that made you dry-swallow. You mustered up the courage to finally pause the porn, then clicked your phone off. “H-how long have you been watching?”

“Since the beginning.” He chuckled, stating matter-of-factly. “Your dad told me to come look at your car. Your garage was open. Thought you did that for me, but I guess you really just forgot about closing it considering…” He nodded towards your cock, licking his lips when it acknowledged him with a throb. “Was coming to get you, and I found you like this.”

“And you just watched?!” You sputtered out in distress, hastily dressing yourself back into your clothes, stumbling over your feet in the process. Sweat always made it more difficult to put on clothes.

“Well, I did call you for while I was coming in. You didn’t hear me over your video, and…me, I suppose.” It was smug. Amusing to him that you were in this state of embarrassment after being caught red-handed. You groaned, burying your head into your knees after sitting back down on the couch. The heat was unbearable, but to face Mr. Cavill after being caught jerking off to his videos, you were overcome with horror at the ghastly spectacle of the situation.

“Don’t tell my dad about this,” Your fingers scraped through your scalp out of frustration, but also to keep your head pressed to your knees as they interlaced around you. You refused to even spare one more glance at the man when you felt him practically hovering over you, a gentle smile riding along the coattails of his composure. “…please.”

“I won’t,” Mr. Cavill’s voice sounded clearer, closer than before. Right above you, but still, you maintained your position despite the pleasant scent of his cologne almost breaking away your focus. “Just as long as you suck me off.”

Those final words hit you like a truck.

You were astounded, confused by the turn of the situation. It felt like a taunt, and it was treated as such because it worked. You whipped your head up upon Mr. Cavill’s demand, almost insulted because it was how guys on campus used to taunt you.

What you expected to grace your eyes with was his face; charming as ever with a mustache that was reliable in stirring immense feelings inside of you.

Instead, you were met with a face full of flesh, Mr Cavill’s heavy and large cock. It sported a strong curve, throbbing veins to prove its accelerating lust, with thick balls swinging low to entice you into a hypnotic state. If someone was to grade you upon your predictions, you’d score a perfect mark, because god damn, he was huge. Hairier than you’d expected, though just as arousing, if not more, because this was unexpected for Mr. Cavill as well. He would’ve cleaned himself a bit if he had a plan to meet you under these circumstances.

“I—You’re serious?” With the string of thick pre-cum dripping from the very slit of his head, it seemed like your question was answered. You could smell him. The musk of his pre-cum. It tingled your nostrils, enchanting you akin to what fresh pastries would’ve done for you on normal, non-libido provoking circumstances.

“Does it look like I’m kidding? Come on, I’m waiting. You didn’t even say ‘thank you’ to me in person when I built you that PC for Christmas. It’s the least you could do, right?” Without warning, he took ahold of his cock and tapped the center of your lips with it. Your orbs shook as you looked up at him, hesitant through the tremor of your lips as Mr. Cavill stared back, determined for you to accept his plea offer with some kind of answer—with your mouth preferably. “Been teasing me for so long… Think I didn’t notice the way you looked at me whenever I came over? How you kept massaging your cock under the table during dinner? Always in those shorts too… God, you were begging to be fucked with your thighs showing like that.”

“No—I-You’re my dad’s friend, I can’t—“ Your hand said otherwise with your fingers taking initiative on their own, wrapping over his large cock, right above Mr. Cavill’s fist. It was a two-hander, a fucking two-hander, yet your fingers struggled to close around his girth. “Fuck, you’re so…”

“Your dad doesn’t have to know, right? I won’t tell. You won’t either. We don’t want to hurt him, right?” One of his hands found its way to the back of your head while he took a step closer, bringing his cock closer to your face. Before you could pull away, there was true grit to the palm of Mr Cavill’s hand as he applied pressure to the back of your head, pressing your cheek flush to the underside of his cock. “Look at you, you don’t have the heart to say no, do you? You’re obsessed with my cock, aren’t you?”

“Y-yes, Mr. Cavill…” You were under his control. Locks of your hair bundled under a grip while he ground his cock against your supple skin, making you smell him; his musky cock, the sweat buried in the deep hairs of his pubic area. It was a glorious scene that returned your cock back to its original state of arousal by tenfold.

“You’re going to be a good boy and suck my cock off, right?” Almost in your mouth. You parted your lips open to trap his cock into your mouth with the way he maneuvered your head like a rag doll, a brute strength your nape now, pulling and pushing your head as his cock rubbed against your face, but Mr. Cavill pulled at the last minute, right when you were one lick away from tasting meaty flesh. “Close your mouth. You will open your mouth when I tell you so.”

“I—I—Yes, please...” You were pathetic. He held you still, head tilted upwards to face the ceiling and his towering body while his cock and balls laid over your face like a table runner, a perfect heater to warm his meat. A t-shirt remained on his body, and that was a true testament to his appeal, being able to get you off like this half-naked. You reached down, back to fondling at your sore cock, at the blue balls you’d given yourself earlier, sniffing, inhaling the heavy delightful scent of his sweaty cock. Guess his house was having air-conditioning difficulties too.

“I can use your mouth however I want?” He dragged his cock over your face, the head leaking out pre-cum in midst of its journey to introducing itself to every one of your facial features, saving your lips for last.

“Yes,” You gulped at his rousing speech, breathing in the drying musky pre-cum on the perimeter of your skin. “Please fuck my mouth, please—“

“If you’re good, then this can be a regular occurrence, yeah?” You slipped your shorts and briefs off again, jerking yourself off to simply the teasing taunt of his cock, tapping at your skin, brushing over your eyelids, pushing up against your nose. You felt humiliated. You’d been marked by Mr. Cavill, pathetically as it only took his huge cock to make you submit to him. “You’d like that? Sucking your dad’s best friend off?”

“F-fuck, yes…” His cock was a wand to your body. Every time Mr. Cavill was seemingly about to push into your mouth, you willingly opened it to no avail, even if it was obvious that he’d pull away. You could only get off on his scent for so long. He’d draw your tongue out when he squeezed pre-cum out the tip of his cock, right above your pink flesh. It would sink, drip, slowly like syrup, in thick strings, until it wasn’t anymore with the sudden obstruction of Mr. Cavill’s finger swooping in to nick the sticky web, and letting it waste away on the carpet. “Please, Mr. Cavill… I-I’ll be good…”

It was amusing to him, watching you desperately try to taste and watch him in any way you can, to the point of going cross-eyed as he would center his cock in your vision. He waved his cock like a flag as if he had conquered you. Humiliated you with several heavy slaps to your face, thick smacks that you took in whimpering grace because Mr. Cavill had stolen the resources to your insanity.

“That’s what I like to hear.”

Mr. Cavill didn’t waste a single second for you to prepare yourself. The pressure on your nape steeled, bruising to make you open your mouth and whimper, and maybe that was the point, because he seized the opportunity to charge his cock inside of your mouth without warning, making you gag on your own desperation. It was a forewarning. A brief prologue on how you should take his cock as he quickly pulled himself out to properly prepare yourself. In the meantime, he slapped your cheek multiple times with the spit you had already layered him with, cooing at how incredible hard and big he was against your dazed face.

“Fuck, your mouth is so warm. That’s it, you can take it. Good boy.” Saliva spilled out of your mouth like a popped water balloon when he pushed himself inside of your mouth again. You couldn’t control it. You couldn’t control what Mr. Cavill had stripped away from you with the strength he had on your neck. Not to mention, the mass of flesh gagging you into oblivion, leaving you completely incapable of stopping him, as if you wanted him to. “Come on, use your hands too. Don’t be lazy.”

“Mm-mmf…” A compliance that was muffled by a slur of slick sounds, but Mr. Cavill knew what you meant. Amusement played on the corner of his lips as you struggled to fit a hand around the base of his sticky cock, sloppily stroking what was left neglected by your mouth, or rather your inability to take in. You suckled on the head of his cock, plump and heavy on your tongue as it throbbed with every lick you provided him. Stroking its slit with the tip of your tongue, you then dug and slobbered over the salty taste of his pre-cum. “So big… Just like I’d imagined.”

You pulled away to marvel at the size of his cock, taking your time to lube his cock with your spit from tip to shaft before your fist flushed to his pelvis to slap his meaty cock on the pouch of your tongue, lewdly flinging your spit in the air. It was your favorite move, often reliable in coercing a reaction out of the men you’d sucked off previously. The roll of his eyes, the flex of his muscles, the grunt from his gut; you slobbered all over his cock, worshipping every inch with your mouth, polishing the cock knob clean with your tongue and stroking what you couldn’t with two deft hands. Mr. Cavill was no different, he was a man with needs like you, with needs like the rest of the men you’d given head to, and you exploited the hell out of it. You loved making them feel in power, making them feel like you were worth time out of their day, despite their original pleas to use your mouth.

He briefly pulled back to rest a kiss on your lips, one that you’d treasure for the rest of your life. Not only was it because it was your first kiss was him, but because of how delicate he was with you. Warm and inviting like he usually was, his large hands cupped at the end of your jaw, holding you as if you were made of porcelain. “Making me so proud right now, fuck. Take in more of my cock, would you? I like it when you gag.”

“Mm-hmm…” They always do. You mumbled against his lips, no longer needing his guidance to finish what you’d started. Your eyes were glued to Mr. Cavill, aroused by the look he was giving you. A famished stare that demanded to be satiated, by means of sheer persistence as you knew it was going to be difficult to down him with your throat.

Mr. Cavill drove a hand into your hair, cuffing the strands to keep you still, to keep you from pulling away, to dominate you. He watched you without an ounce of kindness, muscles flexing, cock and balls hanging obscenely as you found a better position on your knees with a throw pillow guarding you from bruising. “Want you to throat-fuck me, Mr. Cavill.”

“Fuck, who knew you had such a mouth on you…” He sturdied his stance, spreading his strong legs while manhandling your head between them. You licked a stripe over his balls, then the underside of his cock until your tongue reached the scorching skin of his precum-slicked tip. Approaching the end of the journey, your mouth opened wide to welcome Mr. Cavill back into your mouth, and like tugging on a loose knot, you drew out moans from within his gut, his body loosening in turn of your hot mouth. “Fuck, just like that…”

With a thundering heart, and a building pleasure so morbidly big, you sunk and lowered your head lower, taking in Mr. Cavill’s horse-cock like a fleshlight. Crimson rose to your cheeks, to your neck, as you strained to maintain him inside of your mouth. He was too big. You’ve utilized all the tactics you’ve learned on campus, on a few buddies, on your roommates. Breathe through your nose, relax your tongue and jaw, let your saliva drip out. Yet you’d barely taken a few inches more than you had done prior before a couple of gags alerted you to take a breather. Your head pulled back, but it was met with violent opposition as Mr. Cavill brought your head back down to further shove himself down your throat.

“Mmm—gggrgh!” Your body jolted in defense, stiffening your body into an upright position when you couldn’t refrain from gagging on his cock. Your hands braced on his strong thighs for balance, squeezing at the muscly flesh of skin to distract yourself from the uncomfortable stretch your mouth was receiving.

“Fuck, yeah. Fuck, fuck, just like that. You’re taking it like a good boy.” You were making him proud, so fucking proud. You coughed, gagging, almost choked on your own spit, but the stuffing of Mr. Cavill’s large cock simultaneously emptied your mouth of saliva as it all came flooding down your mouth in lewd webs. “Shit, look at that. I’m making your mouth water, aren’t I? Fuck, what a waste.”

He yanked your head back, pulling him out of your throat, and you had never felt such relief. Breathing, exhaling and inhaling deep to compensate for the prediction that Mr. Cavill wasn’t going to let you spare a second of abandoning his cock like that. Your eyes watered, reddened from straining your muscles to make him fit inside of your mouth. You knew there was a shift in the room when you looked up at him like that, glossy in the eyes, tremors involuntarily making your knees unsteady, coughing as you held onto his thighs. He towered over you, you were beneath him, beneath the ravenous gaze he simultaneously terrified and seduced you with. You couldn’t complain now. You did your job. You made him feel powerful like you’d wanted. Dominating, as his cock leaked in your spit, and spit your saliva back onto your face.

“You were fucking hungry for my cock, weren’t you? Look at you. You’re a bloody mess…” With one swipe, he gathered the layers of spit you had generously supplemented his cock with, and smeared it across your face. You took his humiliation with good grace, moaning at your loss of pride with every smear. It deducted the more he messily layered your face with your own spit, but as demeaning as it was, there was immense merit to the satisfaction on Mr. Cavill’s face. “Open up.”

“M-mm, ah—“ Your mouth opened with a vulgar sound. If Mr. Cavill had something to compare it to, it would be like sticking a spoon into a cup of jello, and then scooping its content out. Sweet and glorious to his ears, salty to your mouth as he bought your head forward again, and plunged his cock back down your throat, deeper, and further within the confines of your throat. You squeezed around him, eyes clenched tight while he brought your face flushed to his pelvis, the hairy bush of his public area gentle abrasive against your nose. He smelled as delectable as he tasted. A hint of spice, sweat, salt, you could lick at it if it was made into a popsicle, lap it up if it was in a bowl and you were on all fours, bowing to his feet.

Your cheeks bulged as your mouth churned internally to produce more slime to seemingly ease the slide of Mr. Cavill’s cock thrusting inside of you now. He was careless, half-bent over your head to lock you into a tight embrace while his spit-polished cock rubbed at either side of your cheeks, rut against the roof of your mouth, then thrust himself into the depth of your warm throat. You couldn’t have escaped if you had wanted to. He was too strong. Two hands unrelenting around your head while he packed his large cock deep into your mouth, pelting into your gags and whimpers with fast, sharp thrusts, the sound of his wet dick choking you mutually turning you and Mr. Cavill on. You want to quit, yet he was choking you too good. Water streamed down your cheeks. Whether it was your own spit, sweat, or tears, you couldn’t comprehend it because Mr. Cavill was uncompromising, refusing to yield for your comfort.

You were fucking grateful. That was what had been missing from your college experience. A man. Someone taking charge for once. Someone utilizing you like the whore you made yourself out to be. Mr. Cavill saw right through you, through your taunts from several breaks ago, and he was fucking furious for making him wait.

“Shit, I’m close,” Fucking your mouth furiously. You could get off like this. Fuck, no. You were getting off to this. Fucking your cock with your fist, doing your best to match the pace of Mr. Cavill’s hips. You wanted to look up, to watch his face morph from admiration to animalistic desire as he utilized your throat at his own disposal.

You blinked away your tears, even if they had stung, and gawked at how captivating Mr. Cavill was for being selfish, thrusting into your mouth with one hand keeping your face free of your hair from obstructing his view. A frown permanently framed his mustache, and his dark brows furrowed at the approaching climax. He wasn’t looking at you. Rather, he was scrutinizing your wet mouth as it was jam-packed with his cock. How could a mouth look so pretty while doing something absolutely obscene? How could a throat feel so tight, so addictive, even after piping his cock down its drain several times? How could you let him treat you like this, a complete stranger, completely violate and humiliate you on your knees, like a broken doll whose purpose was to fulfill a man’s deepest desires? Maybe he needed to have a talk with your father. Talk about how broken you were, and that you needed fixing. Spend a nights with him at his house, and he would help you rewire your brain. He’d fix you. Fix you with his cock. With his lips. With his hands. With his body. Your eyes rolled back at the thought, fisting your cock faster, twisting to his heavy grunts as he was nearing closer and closer to the edge of his insanity.

“Mfghm!” Your throat felt raw, the subtlest whimper scratching at your throat like claws on chalkboard. But you persisted, pumping your shaft vigorously, your ears lapping up Mr. Cavill’s constant appraisal for your performance. Good boy. That’s it. You’re taking my cock like how I want it. You want your reward? Fuck, sloppier. Spit on it. Spit on my dick. I like it sloppy.

Sweat pebbled every inch of your skin. You couldn’t take it. It was coming. Your stomach sank and steeled upon the sudden rise of fulfillment, and you quickly released your grip after a final stroke before coming into the air. Thick ropes catapulted upwards, your cock throbbing with every pulse, and your balls emptying itself more and more with a bounce, a twitch, and a jolt. “F-fuck, ugh…”

“Fuck, yeah. Look at all of that cum. Fuck. You came that much just from my cock, look at that…“ Your body spasmed as the carpet soaked up your semen. His voice gruff yet gentle at the same time, making your cock twitch once more before softening.

“Come on, not done yet. Suck me off.” He spat out, tugging your head forward after a quick breather.

Something in you clicked, and you began sucking his cock off like it was your job. Twisting, stroking at the slick shaft while nipping at the head while you caught up to your breath. Suddenly saltier on your tongue as some of your cum had landed on your hand before it was smeared across Mr. Cavill’s dick. You’ve never tasted yourself before, but it was a found contentment you didn’t expect to turn you on.

Then, you took one last breath, cleared your throat, and charged forward. Long, thick inches slid into your throat once more, and you’d hold yourself there upon his final warning, mouth agape, lips pressed into the fur of his pubic hair. Your tongue flattened at the underside of his veiny cock, and your nails dug into the back of his thighs as you felt a thick warmth rush down and coat the inside of your throat. His cock throbbed, and Mr. Cavill’s grunts emptied from his gut with every spill. You could feel every heavy pulse as Mr. Cavill came down your throat in heavy, creamy spurts. You didn’t want to swallow. Not yet. You wanted to savor him. Savor the taste of his cum. You’d pined for it for so long, for all you could know, this could be your last opportunity to properly taste him. Slowly, but surely, his loads rose and pooled in the back of your throat upon barricading it with a tighten of your trachea. The rest of his spurts emptied on your tongue as he pulled himself out, and milked himself to completion.

“Don’t swallow yet.”

You nodded, panting, awaiting for his nuts to be emptied as he flung his cock a few times, hurling drips of cum and your spit over your tongue and face. When he was seemingly emptied out, his gaze fixated on his cum pooled in the back of your throat; semi-translucent and filthily swimming with your own spit, and then Mr. Cavill’s own saliva, as he then spat into your crowded mouth.

“Now swallow.”

You whimpered at the vulgarity of this affair, yet you were highly-aroused by this shame you were feeling. Mr. Cavill’s gaze stilled, anticipating with calm amusement while petting at your cheek. With one clean gulp, you downed your guilt, scrunching your nose when the salty taste of his spunk throttled your tastebuds, and sighed in satisfaction.

“Does your throat hurt?” He was on his haunches, carefully examining your throat as if he had his hand around you from the outside. It was a surprising return to his normal self, at least, the man that you knew as your dad’s best friend. Caring and patient, as he tended to your neck with apologetic kisses, and a gentle massage around your nape, where he must’ve gripped too hard upon your jolted reaction.

“A little… Didn’t take you were one to be rough like that.” Your knees gave out, letting yourself fall back onto your butt knowing that the couch would catch your position.

“Not usually, no… You just… happen to rile me up for some reason.” He was smiling, joining you on the floor, and nuzzling his furry mustache into the crook of your neck as if he wasn’t choking you with his cock a few minutes ago. It was unusual, yet charming. “Seriously, don’t tell your dad, okay?” He whispered into your ear before turning your cheek to look deep in his eyes.

A meaningful stare, a beat of silence, before you spoke, “Only if you promise me something.”

“What’s that?” Mr. Cavill pressed a kiss to your swollen lips, another apology for stretching your mouth without much warning.

“You really meant it that this would be a regular thing if I did a good job?” Mr. Cavill scoffed at first. It was almost embarrassing. Were you being naive? Was this too good to be true? Your cheeks flushed red, and you solemnly casted your gaze downwards, defeated because that was that it felt like. The sound of rejection always came with a scoff, everyone knew that.

“Well, it was going to be a regular thing even if you had accidentally bit my dick off.” He suddenly laughed at how susceptible you were by the smallest actions, and at this moment, you were surprised that maybe this crush wasn’t so one-sided after all. He teased at your frown, kissing the corner of your mouth until it was a smile, and then prodding at your sides when you resisted. “Come on, you couldn’t possibly think this was a one-time thing.”

“Tempting…” You snuck a head in between his thighs, reaching for a certain tool that had brought in so much pleasure and pain to your body. “I don’t know… we don’t talk much. I don’t know you that well.”

“Don’t.” Mr. Cavill teasingly warned, stopping you by taking ahold of your wrist. Though, one step too late, as you already cupped his flaccid cock, tormenting his balls with a few tugs and squeeze of your palm as an act of revenge for your throat. “Well… then let’s get to know each other. No problem doing that, right?”

“Mm-mm, guess not.” Pursing your lips, you nodded, feeling placated by his words.

He sighed into your mouth, kissing you again, licking at the inside of your mouth, tasting your tongue and then your cheek, to soothe his selfish stain on your body with the work of his mouth.

“First, I want to hear you say ‘thank you’ for building that PC of yours before I promise you anything.”

“Jesus, we’re still on this?”

“Yes! Do you know how long that took me?”

“I didn’t ask you to build me one—“

“God, you’re an ungrateful brat.”

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

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lesservillain · 8 months

Text

alpha!eddie munson x omega!reader

cw: omegaverse, soul bonding, scenting, knotting, unprotected piv, breeding, semi public sex, pregnancy

an: part of the school days universe.

Five days.

It’s only been five days since you started your newest substitute teaching job at Hawkins High School.

Well, scratch that. It’s only second period, so you can really only say it’s been four days, barely 9 am even, but it’s already been just as hellish as the rest of the week.

Monday started with you not being able to find a parking spot, having to park down the road and run into class. Turns out you were trying to park in student parking and weren’t aware of the back lot for the teachers to park in.

Tuesday you dumped your coffee that you waited way too long in line for all over your notes from the teacher you were subbing for. Thankfully it was only the current week's curriculum and you were able to decipher the notes enough to get the gist of what you needed to be doing, but it was still a pain in the ass.

Wednesday your tire went flat on the way to work. Thankfully one of the other teachers, Mr.Harrington, just happened to be driving by and gave you a ride the rest of the way. You were able to call a tow truck to take your car to a nearby body shop that you walked to after work. You’re pretty sure the guy overcharged you for the tire but you were too exhausted to argue.

Thursday, oh Thursday, your students in your second period class decided that they weren’t going to take you seriously, making rude noises and disrupting class with unrelated questions, and randomly scenting just to get under your skin. This period was heavy with new alphas, and if you hadn’t been warned ahead of time, you could tell by the way they all behaved. The teacher you were subbing for was able to reign them all in somehow, but you were struggling with getting them to listen to anything you had to say.

So, naturally, this would be the class that would see your Friday turn into the worst day of the week so far.

There was only 10 minutes left in the class. There had been some rowdiness, but not nearly as bad as the day before. You were so close to moving on to your easier classes of the day when a water pipe decided to burst directly above you, breaking the ceiling tile and completely drenching you in cold water.

Everything was still for a single beat, until the silence was cut by the boisterous laughter of the 22 seniors who watched the incident happen in real time. After the initial shock, you yelled at them to be quiet, more stern than you’ve ever been in your life, and told them to read the chapter on their own while you called the office.

As you turned to go to your desk, you caught your reflection in the window and were instantly reminded that you were wearing a white shirt today, the deep magenta of your bra very visible now due to the state of your top.

Embarrassment is one thing, but when you remember the morning you had, it just pisses you off more than anything. You had initially put on a blue top when you woke up this morning, but, on top of everything else you were dealing with this week, you were also having to take care of your fiance, Dave, during his rut as well, which was a job all on its own.

He insisted that he wouldn’t be able to wait for you to get home with the pain he was in, so you let him get in a quickie while you were brushing your teeth. He also refused to wear a condom, telling you the pain would subside for longer if he could feel you. But, you weren’t falling for his tricks, and as soon as you felt his knot starting to swell you pulled away from him, ending up with his spend all over the back of your shirt.

Which led you to now, where you sit at your desk with your head down and your arms crossed over your chest trying to hold back tears as you wait for the maintenance guy to come look at the ceiling. You could hear the snickering and teasing whispers from your students but were too defeated to tell them to do their work. Only when you got a faint smell of cinnamon spice and warm smoke did you finally speak up.

“Whoever is scenting right now, knock it off before I write you up.”

Low murmuring and a voice quietly saying “it wasn’t me” to another student's accusation were the only response you received. But the smell only got stronger.

Stronger to the point where you felt your body shiver for a moment. It made your body heat up in a way you haven’t felt in a while, your thighs rubbing together subtly under your desk.

You lifted your head to yell at your students again, but was interrupted by a knock on the classroom door before you could speak. The scent was so strong now that there was no way it was from an immature alpha. that you felt dizzy when you turned your head to see who was entering your classroom.

As your vision settled on the figure before you, you felt like your breath had been knocked out of you. A tall man with beautiful curly brown hair and big, brown eyes took a few steps into the classroom. He was silent, gawking at you in the same way you must be looking at him.

“H-hi, I’m Eddie,” he stuttered, being the first to speak once the giggling from the students brought him back to reality. When you hear his name for the first time, you swear you can hear bells ringing in the distance.

“I’m here to check your pipes.” Another round of laughter fills the room, causing you to run your hands over your face and down to the back of your neck.

“Guys, please—”

“That’s enough.”

The scent surrounding you peaks as a weight falls over the room. The students fall silent, but your head reels as you feel your body heat up. It felt like the beginning of your heat, but it was nowhere close to being due thanks to your suppressants.

After a beat, the tension was interrupted by the sound of the bell. And just as quickly as it came, the thick hold on the room was gone. Your students quickly grabbed their things and exited the room without a word.

You fan yourself as you feel the fever begin to dissipate. Eddie walks over to your side, concern sewed into his features as his eyes searched your face.

“Are you okay? I didn’t think I had scented so strongly…”

“Gosh, yes, I’m sorry,” you say, shaking your head to get back into your professional mindset. “I’m fine, just a little stressed.” You introduce yourself to him, extending a hand to him out of habit. You see his eyes go wide before darting to the side, his cheeks tinted pink.

You suddenly remember the state of your attire and quickly curl into yourself again, spewing apologies in an attempt to save any respect that he may have for you.

“Hey, it’s cool,” he laughs your embarrassment off, eyes still on anything other than you. “Do you, uh, want something to wear over that?” He’s pointing over his shoulder, taking a few steps back towards the door. Before you can really respond, he’s gone, almost running into a group of students as they begin to fill your class for the next period.

As your third period class enters, you tell the students to take their seats until you can figure out how class is going to go. A few minutes later, Eddie returns with his hands full and pushes a mop bucket into the room. He places a wet floor sign in the middle of the room to free his hands before he’s handing you a black sweater. You thank him quietly when you take it, vision drawn to the chunky silver rings on his…really thick fingers.

You pull the sweater over your head and are immediately dizzy with the strong smell from before, mixed with a faint smell of cigarettes and sweat in the collar. The well worn sweater with frayed cuffs was soft and warm, the Metallica logo in dark gray letters displayed across the front covers your shame, allowing you to finally leave your desk.

As you rise to your feet, you catch the way Eddie is staring at you out of the corner of your eye. Was he thinking about your wet shirt under his sweater? Why do you hope that he is?

“Thank you,” you say, subconsciously pulling the fabric to your nose for a moment. Eddie stares at you for a moment, sucking in a deep breath of air before nodding wordlessly.

“Yeah, no, uh, no problem,” he murmurs, breathing out with a huff, a small smile tugging on his lips. The second bell rings to signal the start of the next period, making Eddie jump and look around. “Oh, yeah, um, when is your free period?”

“Not until fifth period.”

“Okay,” he says, bouncing his head as he looks at the water still puddled on the floor. “Do you want me to mop this up now, or do it when I come back? I don’t want to interrupt your class.”

“That’s okay,” you say with a wave of the hand, “My next two classes are taking a test today. So as long as you’re not giving them any answers, you won’t be a problem.”

Eddie nods and gets to work, doing his best to stay out of your way while you get through your two classes. You do your best not to let yourself be distracted by him, keeping busy with grading papers and prepping your chalkboard for your last classes of the day. You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t take little glances at him as he worked. Maybe you noticed the way the sleeves of his shirt hugged his biceps when he carried his ladder in between classes. Maybe you let yourself indulge in the flash of his toned stomach when he lifted his shirt briefly to wipe his brow. Maybe you stared at his ass while he picked up the broken ceiling tile pieces off the floor.

In the back of your mind you knew you shouldn’t be looking, especially when you have a fiance waiting for you back home. You’re not even the type of person to ogle someone the way you are right now.

But something about Eddie’s presence was making you feel…different. Domestic. Like there was a misplaced pride in his ability to do his own job. You wanted to praise him for being a big strong alpha—your big strong alpha.

One of your students hesitates at your desk as she drops off her test, pulling you out of your fantasy. She’s one of the more quiet students, so you ask her if she needs anything as she continues to hover next to you.

“Um,” she pauses for a moment, looking over at Eddie just as he walks out of the room. She says your name quietly, leaning in a bit to whisper, “Are you and Mr.Eddie dating?”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth to suppress the laugh that naturally pulled from your chest at the question.

“No, we are not,” you answer. You tilt your head inquisitively, “Why do you ask?”

“Because you’re wearing his sweater. Usually people wear their boyfriends sweaters when they’re dating…”she comments as she points at the offending garment.

You smile at her, “I’m just borrowing it. I’ll be giving it back at the end of the day.”

She’s quiet for a moment, and you think that maybe the answer was enough for her. But she leans in to whisper again, “But why has he been staring at you all of class?”

A warm feeling washes over your chest at her words. Has he been keeping an eye on you? How did you not notice? Was he just keeping an eye on you or was he checking you out?

Before you could answer her, Eddie walks back into the room and your student hurriedly made her way back to her desk. You can’t help but watch him as he adjusts the tool belt that sets on his hips, a screwdriver being held between his lips as he does. As he grabs it from his mouth, you catch him looking at you for the first time. You wait for him to shy away like he did before, but instead he winks at you—fucking winks at you, before making his way back up the ladder.

The butterflies you felt in your tummy make you feel like a teen again. You don’t even know who you are right now. Have you just been so miserable in your current relationship for so long that you’re just happy to have another alpha’s attention? That can’t be, because you hate the attention that other alphas give you when you’re out on your own.

You’re not sure what it is, but as your classes end and your free period rolls in, you ask him if he wants to eat his lunch with you, giddy when he agrees.

“Is that seriously all you’re eating?”

Eddie pulled his ladder up to your desk and sat on one of the steps with a single large can of snack pretzels in one hand and a can of off brand cola in the other. He looks at you like a deer caught in the headlights as you scold him for not bringing more to eat.

“Here,” you hand him a container of some leftover mac and cheese you made from the night before, “eat this please. I think I have a granola bar in my bag, too.”

“Woah, there, sweetheart,” he laughs as you start rifling through your bag. “I don’t need you to feed me. This has been my lunch since I was in middle school, so I’m set.”

You frown at him, not satisfied with the lackluster lunch he wanted to partake in. “What if I made you a lunch? Would you eat it?”

The rosy tint dusts his cheeks once again. A toothy grin spreads across his face as he gives you a shy side eye.

“I mean, I wouldn’t want your food to go to waste, but you really don’t have to worry about me.”

Wrong. The more you’re around him, the more you feel like you need to dote on him. You want to touch him, put your head on his shoulder, hold his hand. You want to go home with him and cook him dinner and wash his hair and have him hold you while the two of you sleep side by side in your shared bed. Every sweet word he says to you pulls you in like a fly to honey.

And when your hand accidentally brushes his, you both take in a deep breath at the same time, and you know he felt the same surge through his body as you. His gaze meets yours, chests raising and falling in anticipation as the two of you wait for the other to say something—do something.

But something doesn’t come, because the bell ringing once again makes the both of you jump, not realizing how close the two of you had gotten. Eddie jumps up from his seat on the ladder, grabbing his pitiful lunch and booking it out the door.

His sudden absence makes you sad, missing him more than you reasonably should. And as you sit alone, with the shuffling of feet outside your classroom creating a white noise that lets you slip into your mind, you can’t help but think about your life with David.

He’s supposed to be your alpha. The one you’ve been with since high school since you both presented around the same time. He’s the only person you’ve ever been with, never really desiring anyone else but him before. He works a good job, bought a house for the both of you, and wants to have a family with you, the latter being the only thing the two of you never agreed on, not wanting kids despite the natural instincts of your second gender.

But, as you think about the man you laid eyes on this morning, who has made you feel more in the 4 total hours that you’ve known him than you’ve felt in the last decade with David, you think you’d give everything you have up to be with him. It scares the shit out of you to feel that way. It’s as if something has taken over your brain and completely rewired it to be all about Eddie.

Maybe the afternoon away from him would give you time to clear your head. Putting all your mental effort into your remaining senior classes, you manage to keep your mind occupied for the most part. You swear that you can smell his scent every once in a while, but convince yourself that you’re just imagining it.

As the final bell rings for the day, you plop down in your chair and just let yourself decompress. You begin to think maybe this job was something that was more than you’d be able to handle, that you’d bitten off more than you could chew. You’d been subbing for a year now, but this was the first time you’d ever been this overwhelmed after just a week. You could always go and talk to the principal now and let them know you wouldn’t be back on Monday. Someone else could deal with—

Your thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. You roll your head to the side to find Eddie in your classroom's doorway once again.

“Come to finish the job?” You ask tiredly.

“That’s one of the things I’m here for,” Eddie says with a nervous chuckle.

He takes long strides to your side, his hands in his pockets as his feet shuffle beneath him.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I just…I just wanted to know if, maybe, you’d like to go out with me sometime?”

You’re completely caught off guard by his request. A warmth blooms in your chest before promptly sinking into your stomach, forming into a solid rock of guilt and confusion.

“I…I’m sorry Eddie, I can’t.” You should probably put more effort into sounding sincere rather than disappointed. But your heart was truly distraught at having to turn him down.

“Oh, yeah, no, it’s cool,” he stutters, trying to play it cool as he takes in your rejection. “I didn’t mean to—I mean, I just, um, I just thought we had some chemistry or something…”

“Well, you wouldn’t be the only one who thought that. But, I have a boyfriend— a fiance, rather, and I—”

“Hey, it’s cool, I understand,” he waves you off as he takes hurried steps backwards towards the door. “Just forget I asked. Um, I’ll see you around I guess.” He gives you a weak smile before backing out of the classroom and into the hall again.

“Yeah, see you around,” you mutter to yourself.

Before you could even fully turn the lock on your front door it was being yanked open, David standing on the other side of the door panting like he had just run a marathon. Without warning, he grabs you by the wrist and pulls you inside of your shared home and something immediately feels off.

The first thing you notice as you cross the threshold is that you can’t smell anything. The house has smelled like nothing but David’s musk since his rut started on Sunday, but now it just smells like your normal house. It doesn’t make sense, because he’s clearly going through it just as he was this morning.

David’s nose scrunches when he finally gets close to you, almost immediately stumbling back against the wall to get as far away from you as possible.

“What the fuck?” He scowls, looking you up and down with wild eyes. “What the hell are you wearing?”

Oh fuck.

You were still wearing Eddie’s sweater.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you say as you scramble to pull the sweater off, sneaking one last inhale as it lifts over your head. “I had an incident at school and one of my coworkers let me borrow his sweater.”

“You took clothes from another alpha?” David’s voice was uncharacteristically stern, likely from the adrenaline of his rut. He’d never been an angry man, even with his natural alpha tendencies, but the way he was looking at you right now made you feel real fear.

“I needed something to cover myself—“

“You fucking reek,” he says hand flying over his nose to shield himself from the lingering smell of Eddie.

The fear quickly turns into annoyance at his insult. You weren’t about to deal with this attitude he was giving you, so you rolled your eyes and pushed past him, making your way straight to the bathroom to get cleaned up.

After taking your sweet time to wash away the stress of the day, you emerge from the bathroom feeling refreshed. You’re surprised to see David sitting on the edge of the bed, face buried in his hands only to run them through his hair as you enter the bedroom.

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing he blurts out, “I shouldn’t have acted like that.” You can tell he’s being genuine, and you can’t help but feel bad yourself. “I just, with the rut and everything, it makes me feel like the hulk when any little thing sets me off. And I’ve been feeling like shit all day while you were gone, so when you came home smelling like another alpha…”

“Shhh, it’s okay,” you coo as you take his face in your hands, the warmth of his fever hot against your palms. “I didn’t think about how it would have bothered you. I was going to give him the sweater back at the end of the day but—“

Thoughts of your day spent with Eddie floods back into your mind. The way that his presence made you feel whole, like a part of you that was missing all these years had appeared right in front of you and changed how you think about everything. It makes you realize that the sympathy you’re having for your fiance right now isn’t out of love, or guilt that you may have betrayed him.

Rather, you feel as if you’re tending to a child that’s fallen on the playground. It’s nothing more than your natural instinct to nurture, to protect. Even more so, you realize it’s not love.

“But…something came up and he left before I could give it back.”

He nods his head in your hands, letting out a small okay. You feel him pull at your hips, bringing you closer for him to rest his head on your stomach. You run your nails over his scalp, and he lets out little muffled moans against your towel in response.

When he looks up at you, his pupils fully dilated and filled with hunger, you let him pull your towel from your body to gather around your feet on the floor.

Your back hits the mattress and David is on you moments later. His kisses are soft, his gentle hands touching over all the right places that he’s grown to learn over the years of your relationship.

He’s doing everything right, and yet you can’t help the nauseating feeling that curdles in your stomach with each passing second. Everything feels wrong. His touch is like poison, and your body is screaming at you to get as far away from him as possible. But you fight it down in hopes that this feeling will go away.

It’s only when he aligns himself with your entrance that the feeling becomes too much. You pull away from him as quickly as you can and book it straight to the bathroom to empty your stomach contents into the toilet.

The bell rings out just as you finish up with your fourth period class.

“Don’t forget your first drafts are due at the beginning of class tomorrow!” You call out as the students collect their things and make their way to the halls.

The loud rumbling in your stomach has you quickly taking your seat at your desk, opening the bottom drawer to pull out your lunch. Over the last month you’d come to understand that eating in your classroom was the best option for your sanity, because if any time you left the safety of your room, you were immediately overwhelmed by the scent of Eddie.

The two of you had barely talked since you turned him down. You kept trying to return his sweater to him, but it seemed like he was actively avoiding you, even if his scent lingered on everything he touched in the whole school.

You felt bad that things had become awkward between the two of you. There was nothing you wanted more than to talk to him. You missed him in a way that you still don’t understand.

“Hey, there’s cupcakes in the break room if you want one.” Steve’s voice pulls you from your sulking. The mention of sweets has your ears perked.

“Oooooooh, really? What’s the occasion?” You ask as you rise from your seat, excitedly meeting him at the door to walk with him.

“Teacher appreciation week,” he says with air quotes. You both roll your eyes, just thankful to be getting something.

As you make your way to the break room, the two of you talk about your classes and what your plans are for spring break next week.

“We’re finishing up the baby’s room,” he says with glee when you ask. “We picked a really nice green color the other day when we were out. Did I even tell you about that whole ordeal? How we ran into her ex at the department store?”

“What? No! What happened?”

You welcomed the distraction of Steve’s story as it helped keep your mind off of Eddie. After a month you’d thought that it wouldn’t be so strong, or that maybe you’d get used to it. But every passing day it seems like it gets worse.

Before you could follow Steve passed the threshold of the teachers lounge, Eddie’s scent becomes amplified to the point it stops you in your tracks.

“Woah, are you okay?” He asks, taking a step towards you. You hadn’t even realized that you’d stopped moving, your arm outstretched against the wall to steady yourself.

“Y—yeah I…” You feel yourself sway, a sweat breaking out as your body temperature begins to creep higher. “It’s probably just a hot flash or something,” you say as you fan yourself with your hand, “Had to switch my suppressants recently and they said that feeling hot could be a side effect.”

“Shit, let me get you some water or something—”

“Move.”

Before you can process what’s happening, you feel your body being lifted off your feet. When you look up to see who has swept you off your feet, you’re both surprised and relieved to be matching the gaze of two beautiful brown eyes, pupils blown out and almost swallowing their irises whole. You wrap your arms around Eddie’s neck instinctively, burying your face in his neck to inhale his scent. He shutters against you as you exhale into him.

You’re so overcome by his scent that you didn’t notice he had taken off with you until he’s shifting you in his grasp, holding you with one hand as he fumbles with his keys until he’s kicking open the door to…a closet?

He locks the door behind him and plops you down in a chair that sits in front of what you presume to be his desk. All around you are shelves of cleaning supplies, tools, and other random supplies that you’d not be surprised to be in possession of a custodian. On the wall behind the desk are a few band posters and a cork board littered with post it notes and work safety sheets.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

Eddie’s frustrated statement grabs your attention as he stands in front of you, leaning back on the desk with a hand running through his hair.

“Are you, like, punishing me for asking you out? Were you so repulsed by me asking you that you’re punishing me by driving me insane?”

It takes a moment for your brain to properly dissect what he’s asking you, the statement so bewildering to you that you honestly think he’s joking at first. But the hurt look on his face has you shifting forward in your seat, practically on the edge as you look up at him.

“Eddie, no,” you plead with him, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I wasn’t offended at all…I don’t understand how I’m punishing you either.”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes before meeting yours, “You’re joking. You’re telling me you haven’t been scenting around the school to get me worked up? I swear I can still smell you in my clothes when I leave at the end of the day. I figured that since you and Steve have gotten all buddy-buddy that you knew he was mark bonded and wouldn’t be able to smell you, so you’d just been freely scenting to fuck with me for the last month.”

“What? If anyone has been free scenting it’s you! I try not to leave my classroom if I don’t have to because I can smell you everywhere. Every day I have to book it straight to my desk because it’s so strong it makes me dizzy!”

The two of you are quiet for a moment, both huffing after yelling at one another, you still feeling like you’re in a haze in such close proximity to him now. He curses under his breath as he stands, pacing back and forth in front of you as he thinks.

“You’re making me nervous,” you state as you watch him move in front of you.

He stalls, turning his whole body towards you but keeping his eyes down.

“I don’t understand,” he grits out, “I’m definitely not scenting, and you said you’re also not scenting, but I swear you’re the only thing that has any sort of effect on me anymore. The smell of my coffee in the morning isn’t as strong, the smell of the oil leaking from my van didn’t bother me when I fixed it. Hell, I cleaned up puke the other week and your scent made it easier to keep my own lunch down.”

“It’s the same for me…” He looks up at you. “All the smells, I’m going through the same thing…But something else has changed for me, too.” You think back over the events of the last month, “I don’t know why, but ever since that day…I can’t get you off of my mind. These little fantasies run through my head with everything I do. Like when I go to the store, I think about what foods you might like, or when I clean around the house I think about you coming home and telling me that I did a good job. Little things like that, that I never really even thought about with my ex. At least, not in the same way I think about you.”

“Ex?”

The tone of his voice has goosebumps running down your arms and legs. The room begins to feel heavy, similar to how it felt that day when he took control over the classroom. It felt like the air was being sucked out of your lungs and replaced with him. And every stride he took towards you felt like a bag of sand dropping on your back until you were struggling to look up at him as he moved in front of you, crouching down to eye level.

“What happened, sweetheart?” His voice is smooth like honey, pulling you in with his sweetness in a way that made you feel vulnerable. You couldn’t lie to him. Not Eddie.

“I couldn’t…he made me sick,” you start, “Every time we tried to…”

“Tried to what? Use your words.” The mix of his scent and the way he was talking to you was making the heat in your body travel straight to your core.

“Anytime we tried to have sex, I would get sick. Even if I wanted to—”

“Did you really want to, though?” His head tilts to the side as he questions you, “Or were you just trying and failing to get me out of your head?”

Your body sways, his words have you feeling dizzy because he’s right. All of a sudden your clothes felt too tight, and the room was too hot, and you just wanted those big, strong arms back on your body.

“Answer me.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, whenever I was with my ex, I wished it was you. But—but, not enough to make me sick. I don’t know why, it’s like my body was rejecting him.”

It’s silent besides your heavy breathing for a moment. Eddie stands once more, towering over you as he places his palm gently on your cheek. You instantly lean into his touch, humming in satisfaction as his leaves gentle caresses on your skin.

“I’m, uh, having the opposite problem,” he says with a hint of embarrassment. “I feel like I can’t…satisfy myself, but I’m constantly worked up whenever I think about you. Fucking my fist multiple times a day wishing it was your pussy instead.”

His thumb glides across your cheek, landing on your bottom lip and pulling it down before letting it snap back into place. Your lips part slightly in response, an open invitation for his thumb to push its way in, which he gladly accepts. He pushes it as far in as it can go, watching as you hollow your cheeks and suck on the digit before he pulls it out with a pop.

“F-f-f-f-fuuuck,” he breathes out through gritted teeth. He grips your cheeks, not too rough, but enough to make your lips pout as he tilts your head back to look up at him.

Eddie searches your face for any signs of discomfort, but is only met with the half lidded, fucked out look your giving him through your lashes, brain completely empty as you wait for him make his next move.

Fireworks erupt under your skin as his chapped lips crash into yours with enough force to push you back in your chair. Every cheesy rom-com that you’ve ever watched finally made sense as you felt the electricity light strike in your abdomen and back through every vein in your body. This was what you’d been waiting for in every other kiss that you’ve experienced in your life.

And, all at once, the sparks peak, before surging straight between your legs, a wave of slick gushing from you and soaking the seat below.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie breathes, looking at your lap with a pained expression. Meanwhile, your eyes are locked on the ever growing bulge in his work pants, drool pooling in your mouth as his blue jeans strain from the size of him.

He lunges towards you, mouth agape to meet with yours before the sound of the bell stops either of you in your tracks. You hear a crack next to your head that makes you jump. When you look you see that Eddie has cracked the wood of the chair with his bare hands, muscles and veins popping from the strain.

“Eddie—“

“Don’t go,” he begs, his voice low and gravely, “I can’t let you go again. I need you.”

He sounds so pathetic. All the still working parts of your brain start to go hazy at his groveling. He needs you. And you need him.

The shrill sound of the phone ringing on his desk pulls Eddie away from you with a huff. His eyes don't leave you as he picks up the receiver, growling “what” to whoever was on the other line.

As he listens, though, Eddie’s brows lift in surprise, followed by a Cheshire grin. “Consider us even then,” he says into the phone before he slams it back down.

“W-who was that?”

He lets out a chuckle. He sauntered over to you with a dark look in his eyes, leaning in until he’s barely an inch from your face.

“That was our good friend, Steve. He said he let the principal know you had to go home sick and got someone to cover your classes.”

Your breath hitched. Your mind was a whirl of everything Eddie you had almost forgotten that you still had classes to teach. You try to take a mental note to thank Steve later, hoping it doesn’t get lost in your mind.

“If that’s what you want, anyway. Could always go back to class—”

You surge forward, lips meeting his in a fevered kiss. “No, no,” you murmur against his lips, fingers tangling in his curls, “want you, Eddie. Don’t make me go back.”

What you don’t expect is to feel his hands grip you under the fat of your ass and lift you up from the chair. He turns the both of you around, using one hand to knock the things off of his desk before placing you on top of it with a squeak from you on impact, all the while his lips glued to yours.

His hands make quick work with the buttons on your blouse and he moves down your neck, leaving kisses and little bruises across your skin.

You feel him slotting between your legs, your pencil skirt riding up so his hard length could press against your clothed pussy. The denim of his jeans turn dark as slick continues to soak through your panties, your hips bucking against him as the familiar ache of your heat senses what you need only a few pieces of fabric away.

As soon as Eddie opens your blouse, he’s ripping the cups of your bra with a force that causes your whole body to move, making your tit bounce in recoil.

“Of course they’d be perfect,” he groans, pulling back, completely enamored at the sight of you before him. His big hands grab and kneads at the flesh, taking your nipples between his fingers and rolling them. Your back arches as the sensation, and the drag of your sensitive clit against the denim only makes you moan louder.

Eddie pushes himself into you more, reveling in the feeling of you grinding against him and soaking his leg. He takes a nipple into his mouth and sucks, letting his tongue swirl around it.

It’s all too much, your head spinning as everything seems amplified under his touch. Your hands scramble to grab the hem of his shirt, pulling the black polo and flimsily attempt to pull it off of him. You feel him grin against the skin of your breast before pulling off with a pop.

“Impatient, aren’t we?” Eddie asks as he pulls the shirt over his head, as if he isn’t using every ounce of self control to keep him from completely devouring you. He wants to sink his teeth into you and never let go, but he can’t scare you off, not when he’s finally got you exactly how he wants you.

Your mouth drops as his body is revealed to you. His slim, but built frame littered with tattoos you would never know he had unless you were to get him like this. Your eyes trail down his chest, his abdomen, all the way down to where his happy trail leads beneath his jeans. The urge to run your fingers through it takes over, your pointer and middle finger dragging from his belly button until they catch on his belt buckle, his stomach flexing under your touch.

You grab at his belt, pulling him towards you until you can get a good enough grip to undo it, pulling down his pants until they drop to the floor with a thud. The boxers that remain sport a very large tent in them, and you swear you can see him twitching under your gaze.

His head falls back as your hand gently glides over him, rubbing the fabric into his leaky tip more, expanding the wet patch that was already forming there. Eddie watches you bring your fingers to your mouth to taste the sticky mess that you collected, your body going boneless when it hits your tongue. It’s like nothing that’s ever graced your taste buds before, making your eyes roll back in your head as your body craves for more.

Watching the way you react to him is Eddie’s final straw. His vision tunnels, completely focused on you as the primal part of his brain takes control. Suddenly, he’s pushing you back down into the desk, manhandling you as he tears through your pantyhose, ripping your panties in half until your bare pussy is on display for him.

Ducking down without warning, he spreads your legs apart and runs his thick, long tongue through your sopping folds. He inhales your scent, the bulb of his nose bumping into your clit in a way that sends zings of pleasure throughout your body. The tip of his tongue pushes its way into your hole, the thick muscle reaching as far as it can to lap up your sweet nectar from the source. Your hands fly to the top of his head, gripping tightly in an attempt to anchor yourself to this plane of existence while your orgasm rips through you. His name falls from your lips over and over as your vision goes white, blinding you with pleasure.

When you come back to your body you feel his hot breath fanning across your cheek, wet lips pressing into the side of your neck as he whispers sweet words into your ear.

“There she is,” he says once your eyes flutter open, “That feel good, pretty girl?”

You nod your head dumbly, making him chuckle.

“Can I make you feel like that again? Wanna make you feel so good on my cock, sweetheart. Don’t think I can hold back anymore.”

You feel the way he’s rubbing his tip through your folds, hand gripping at the base with all the self restraint in the world. The precum leaking from his tip mixing with your own slick creating a sticky mess between your lips.

“Pleasepleaseplease,” you beg, canting your hips to match his movements, gasping when his head catches on your entrance.

That’s all Eddie needs to hear. Lining up with your entrance, he pushes his way into you. The stretch is like nothing you’ve ever experienced. David was an alpha, so naturally he was big, but this? You could feel every ridge and vein of Eddie’s cock as he buried himself deeper inside you. The way his tip pressed against your cervix sent a fresh wave of arousal through you and all over Eddie’s desk.

There was barely time to adjust before Eddie was pistoning in and out of you. His hands white knuckle the skirt still sitting at your waist, using it as leverage to keep you in place while he fucks into your tight cunt. Your hands scramble to find something to hold on to, ultimately settling on Eddie’s forearms as your whole body shakes with each thrust.

“Ohhhh fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” you moan in tandem with every movement. Your brain gone, completely replaced with Eddie and never wanting this to end.

“Fuck, Eddie, please.”

“What is it, baby girl? What does my girl need?”

Hearing his voice, the way he calls you his girl lights a fire in your belly. You’d take anything he would give you right now. Anything he wants from you, you’d give him.

“Want yo-o-o-o-ou,” you pant, “Oh, fuck! Want you so bad!”

“I’m right here, sweetheart.”

Eddie leans down, his lips pressing into yours tenderly. You wrap your arms around his neck, pinning him to you until he gets the hint, letting his body weight press into you until you’re chest to chest. His tempo slows down to a sensual drag in and out. One hand grabs at your leg, bending it forward to open you up for him more. He feels impossibly deep inside of you as his head bullies that spot deep inside you.

“Is this what you needed, princess? Just needed me to get closer to you?” His face is pressed into your cheek, eyes threatening to close as he feels his resolve lessening with each passing moment that he’s inside you. But he needs you to come undone on his cock one more time before he can let go.

“Yes, thank you, thank you, Eddie, mmmmm,” the words fall from your mouth with no thought, your only focus on the pleasure that’s building up inside you. Your walls clenching around Eddie’s cock like a vice as you get closer and closer to the edge.

But, in tandem with your imminent orgasm, the dull ache inside you grows as well, blooming with a need that’s almost painful to bear.

“Eddie.”

The breathy, desperate tone in your voice has Eddie pulling back just enough to look at you. A picture of almost pure lust, say for the concerning pinch in your brows.

“I know, you’re so close, baby. Can feel you gripping me so tight,” he coos down at you. But you shake your head, trying your best to meet his eyes as you try to speak, willing him to just know what you want.

“Want it. Want it. Want it,” is all you can muster out.

“What do you want, baby girl?”

“Knot. Knot, please.”

Eddie’s movements still immediately, making you whine. He straightens up completely, looking down at you darkly, his frizzy curls a wild halo around his head as it blocks the light above.

He takes a deep breath in, nostrils flaring on the exhale, “You know what’ll happen if I do that, right? I’m not on anything that would stop—”

“Yes!” You cry, too frustrated and needy for him to move again that you begin moving on your own, fucking yourself on his cock. “Eddie, I want it so bad! Please, wanna be your girl. Want everyone to know I’m your girl.”

Before you can react, Eddie is grabbing you and flipping you over on his desk, almost knocking his computer down in the process. Only a moment later do you feel him pushing back into you with one quick thrust. His hand wraps around the back of your throat, not tight, but enough to keep you pinned down for him as he fucks you. There’s no purpose to his thrusts other than to chase his own high, but the brutal fuck and anticipation of whats to come is enough to finally push you past that breaking point.

The sound of your slick hitting the floor beneath you and the impossible grip your cunt has on his cock has Eddie following not far behind you. Just as you feel his hips falter, you feel a pressure building inside you, pushing at your walls until they’ve reached their limit. It’s painful, until it’s not. Quickly turning into an overwhelming pleasure, you feel yourself cumming again in quick succession as you feel the hot ropes of Eddie’s spend hit your cervix, filling you with an endless stream and then some.

The pressure of Eddie’s body folding limply on top of you feels amazing, the skin to skin soothing you as your still hazy mind craves him. You feel his lips on your shoulder, trailing kisses across your back until he reaches the center, just below the base of your neck. You fully expected him to continue on, simply loving on your body as you wait for him to fully finish.

What you weren’t expecting was for his teeth to sink into the skin of your scent gland. The feeling of his teeth on you is startling, and for a moment you think about your high school health class, where your teacher told you that when you bond with an alpha it would feel like the chemistry of your brain would change. There would be an instant shift that would change everything and, and…you feel nothing.

Well, not nothing. Being wrapped up in Eddie feels like being wrapped up in a blanket by a fire on a cold winter night, like warm water on sore muscles after a long day. It feels like the pieces of the puzzle have all fallen into place. It’s not big or loud, rather, it feels like home. He feels like home.

“Are you okay?” Eddie’s voice comes out muffled against your skin, his lips still pressed against your neck before he starts to rub his face over the gland.

“Mhmm,” you purr, moving your hand to lace over his on the desk, the cool metal of his rings a stark contrast to your hot skin. “M’back’s a little sore, though,” you say as you can feel your body starting to ache from the position you’re in.

Eddie pushes off of you quickly, almost pulling you with him as his shaky legs threaten to fold from how quickly he moved.

You push off of his desk like a cat stretching after a nap, shivers running down your spine as the shift presses Eddie’s still hard cock further inside you.

“Does it hurt?”

You look over your shoulder to see Eddie mesmerized on the way his knot has you over stuffed, feeling the resistance when your bodies tug apart.

The wide eyed look on his face lights the flame in your belly again. Eyes still on him, you start to rock back and forth slowly on him. You’re barely moving with your limited range, but the way he sucks in his breath at the feeling only fans the flames in you more.

“It doesn’t hurt,” you say in a sultry voice, catching his attention now. “Have you never knotted anyone before, Eddie?”

Brown curls bounce as he shakes his head. He swallows thickly, “N-no, I haven’t.”

You moan out at his confession, clenching down on him. And he whimpers, eyes clenched shut as you continue to gently rock against him.

“H-have you ever been knotted before?” He’s panting now. Standing completely still as he watches you fuck yourself on his cock.

You lean against the desk in front of you, the edge hitting your clit just right as you start to grind against it. “Only once,” you say between huffs, feeling yourself getting closer to the edge again. “It didn’t feel this good, though, fuck.”

“Oh, god—“ Eddie’s hands grip at your hips to still your movements, and you can feel a fresh wave of his cum spilling into your already stuffed cunt. The pressure pushes you over the edge with him, a silent scream on your lips as your body shakes in his grip.

He’s panting like he ran a marathon with a bruising grip still on your hips. It takes a moment for him to catch his breath, but when he does, he’s wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into him.

You yelp as he sits back in the chair and situates you in his lap. You’re able to turn your body on his knot, curling into him so your face is buried in his neck, breathing him in. Calloused fingers run up and down your thigh soothingly, leaving tingles in their wake.

“Eddie?” You’re the first to break the silence. His head shifts your way, but his eyes are still trained on where his fingers dance on your skin.

“Hmm?”

“When you bit me, did you feel…anything?”

The corners of his lips curl into a smile, like you had just told him a joke or something.

“Nah,” he said with a chuckle. You almost felt as if he was making fun of you, your bottom lip jutting out in a pout.

“Oh, what’s this face for, hmm?” He grabs your face and pretends to bite at it, making you laugh as you turn away from him.

“Stoooop,” you whine, but your cheeks start to ache with how hard you’re smiling. “Are you making fun of me?”

“What? Why would I make fun of you?”

“Because I was being serious when I asked you about the bite! They always told us that it’s this huge deal to bond with someone so I thought it was going to be like New Year's Day in my mind or something!”

“Are you saying I didn’t totally blow your mind just now—OW!”

You bite Eddie's shoulder playfully, giggling and kicking as he tries to get his revenge by tickling your side.

“Okay! Okay! You totally blew my mind! I give!”

“That’s what I thought,” he says as he lands a quick peck to your lips, making you feel giddy at the contact. “But I promise I’m not laughing at you. I’m just…”

He looks down for a moment before meeting your gaze again with a look a lot less playful than just a moment ago.

“Okay, I’m going to need you to hear me out on this, alright?”

You nod, giving him your undivided attention as he speaks.

“So, like, I don’t know if you would even remember, but that day when we met, when I first saw you I heard these, like, bells ringing in my ears. And not like when your ears ring after listening to loud music, but, like, little chimes or something. At the time I didn’t think anything about it, but when I talked to Steve and my friend Nancy about it later, they told me that they heard the same thing when they had marked their partners.”

Your eyes go wide, heart fluttering in your chest.

Because you remember hearing bells so clearly when you saw him, too.

But how could that be?

“I know,” he says, reading the disbelief on your face, “It didn’t make sense to me either. So, Nancy, she’s really smart by the way, you’ll love her. She went and found some older books on, like, alpha and omega couples that talked about this thing called soul bonding? It’s supposed to happen when two people that are meant to be together like, imprint on each other and basically they can’t be with anyone else—”

Oh.

His voice trails off, coming to the same realization as you.

“Do you think—”

“Yes,” you respond without a second thought. “It makes so much sense. The smells, everything with David, why I can’t stop thinking about you—Fuck, I’ve only been able to get myself off if I’m wearing your sweater!”

Eddie twitches inside you again, his face a bright red at your admission.

“You’ve been wearing my sweater?” He teases with a raised brow. You nod, not seeing any point in lying about it now.

“I like to sleep in it,” you say as you snuggle into him more, “It feels like I’m sleeping with your arms around me.”

“Mmmm, I think I could do you one better. How ‘bout I let you experience that first hand?”

“You don’t think this is too soon, do you?

Eddie places a box labeled “work clothes” on top of his nightstand, reaching a hand out for you to hand him another hanger from the pile on top of his bed—now both of your bed, as he continues to hang your clothes for you.

“Sweetheart,” he sing-songs to you, “how is this going to be any different than the last two months?”

Since your first encounter in his office at work, the two of you have been attached at the hip ever since. You’d spent almost every night at his trailer, only staying at your parents house once to watch their dog while they went out of town for the weekend.

The chemistry between you and Eddie felt unreal at times, like you were going to wake up from a dream and he would be gone. Outside of his work clothes, some may say he looked a little intimidating, but he was the biggest sweetheart you’ve ever met. And when you got to meet his uncle, Wayne, a few weeks ago, you could tell where he got his chivalry from.

“I know, it’s just all so new for me,” you sigh, falling back onto the bed with a huff.

“It’s new for me, too, but in a good way.” You could hear his smile even with his back turned to you. “Besides, this place could use a little feminine touch.”

He turns to face you, taking one big step to bump his legs into yours.

“No kidding, it looked like a college dorm in here,” you say with an eye roll, thinking about the mismatched furniture and band posters he had taped to the wall.

“Well, this college dorm is about to graduate, move on to bigger and better things in life.”

“Like being baby proofed?”

Eddie hums, lowering himself down onto his knees in front of you. You prop yourself up, shifting your legs apart so he can settle himself between them, arms wrapping around your middle as his head rests on your tummy.

“I’m glad Wayne talked me into getting a two bedroom when I was looking around. I thought all I’d ever need was enough for me, but I guess the universe works in mysterious ways,” he says the last part with exaggerated mysticism, and you tug at his hair playfully at his unseriousness.

“Mmm, baby do that again.”

“Oh, my god, whatever.” You roll your eyes, thinking he’s being playful, but the bedroom eyes and parted lips say otherwise.

And soon after his hips are rolling into yours. Sweaty bodies intertwined as he splits you open, your heightened senses from the pregnancy hormones making it so easy for Eddie to keep you cumming for him.

“Come on baby, you got one more for me?”

“Can feel you squeezin’ me.”

“That’s my good girl.”

And you cum again and again and again, losing track as Eddie’s thumb works on your clit in sync with his thrusts.

He wishes he could do this forever. Watching you fall apart on his cock has to be the greatest thing he’s ever witnessed. His eyes land on your non-existent bump, imagining how big it's going to look in just a few months with his baby inside you.

“Can’t wait til you get all big, sweetheart. Gonna show you off everywhere we go,” he picks up speed, his rhythm starting to falter, “Want everyone to know you’re mine, always. Gotta keep you like this. Keep you pregnant so no one— oooooooh fuck! So no one takes you from me.”

“All yours, Eddie,” you babble out, completely brainless, “Love you. Only you.”

“Haaaahh, shit,” his head rolls back, and you can feel him cumming deep inside you. His hips slow down to a stop before he’s pulling out and landing on his back next to you.

You’re immediately cuddling up next to him, your head raising up and down against his chest. His arm curls around you, pulling you into him more so he can kiss the top of your head.

“I love you, too, by the way.”

You snap your head to look at him. “What?”

“You said “love you,” and I’m saying I love you too.”

“I did?”

“Did you not mean it?’

He looks down at you expectantly, waiting for your answer. But you don’t really have to think too hard to come up with the answer.

“Yeah, I love you.”

thank you for reading.

#eddie munson #alpha!eddie munson #eddie munson fan fic #janitor!eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #alpha!eddie munson x omega!reader #janitor!eddie munson x teacher!reader #eddie munson omegaverse #omegaverse fic #eds

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