Bucky x avenger!Reader or Steve Rogers x avenger!Reader
Summary: Steve Rogers found you on the side of the road after a mission involving Hydra and convinced the Avengers to take you in. You have no name, no memories, and no idea of what you are capable of. All you know is that you are a super soldier with more hidden abilities than you care to admit. The first step to finding answers was to train you. Nobody, including you, knows what is up your sleeve. (Slowburn)
Warnings: Violence, mentions of blood, angst, mentions of memory loss, mentions of suicide, brief unwanted touching, cursing, eventual smut***
A/N: Hello! Slight change to the series, I’m making it a choose your pairing series. Chapter One is a universal chapter, you will be able to choose between Steve or Bucky moving forward, I hope you guys enjoy.
It all started out as an itch that begged to be scratched. The Winter Soldier's basic primal urges weren't wiped away with his memories. When he saw you, those urges resurfaced and you were willing, nay happy, to stroke the beast. But these urges and actions inevitably lead to more and HYDRA doesn’t allow feelings to interfere with their agenda.
Pairing: Winter Soldier x HYDRA!reader, Bucky Barnes x HYDRA!reader
Word count: 47.5k in 12 parts.
Warning: 18+ MINOR DNI. Smut... lots of it, with hint of a plot. Guided masturbation, hand job, oral sex (f), unprotected sex, creampie, PinV/penetrative sex, sex pollen, choking, multiple orgasms, oral sex (m), voyeurism, somnophilia, breeding kink, dirty talk, body worship, mutual masturbation, physical violence, fugitive situation, loss, death. Some poorly translated Russian. If you see anything you think I should add to the warnings, please let me know! FYI, I love a good happy ending.
Posting schedule will be Mondays and Fridays around 7.30am ACT / 4.30pm EST / 1.30pm PST / 9.30pm BST
A/N: Constructive feedback is appreciated, comments and reblogs are life giving! Please be kind to me, I have a very fragile ego!
You’re stressed, he knows exactly how to make you feel better.
Note: I was asked for something like this, so it’s heavy on the love for his dog tags
Pairing: beefy Bucky (but he’s got that fatws attitude) x reader
Warnings: Dom Bucky, basically smutty right from the get go, filthy buck, he has his metal arm (I’m a slut for it), you like Bucky’s dog tags, like really like them, Petnames: sweetness, sweetheart, sweet thing, sweetie, good girl, baby, a LOT of dirty talk, sergeant kink, sir kink, oral (M receiving), unprotected p in v sex, he’s rough, degradation, feral Bucky, squirting, creampie, aftercare.
Word Count: 3.2k *insert cat HUH sound*
You were stressed beyond belief. Your mission ended up having a few more loose ends than anyone was anticipating leaving you to pick up the pieces. Now you were finally back in New York and ready to punch the next person who pats your back sympathetically with a ‘you tried’ look on their face.
Just as you were contemplating boxing the cupboard in the kitchen than wouldn’t stay open two strong arms pulled you back and into a hard body.
“You alright sweetness?” Bucky spoke into the locks of hair at the back of your ear. His cologne had you relaxing already, the fingers on his right hand hitched up your shirt to rub soothing circles over your hip bone. What really got you was the subtle grind of his hips against your ass; he was a filthy shit, you loved it when he knew what you wanted.
You flipped your body around in his arms, your fingers running up from his abs to his soft chest until they wrapped around his neck. He smirked, he knew exactly what you wanted him to do but he was a tease, you had to tell him or he wouldn’t. It’s just the way the world worked for you sweetheart.
You surged forward, desperate for a taste of the cherry lips you missed so much. You hated to admit just how much the man in front of you affected you, how often on your mission your hand snaked down your body and in-between your legs at the photos Sam sent of your lost puppy husband, his wide back and tiny waist wrapped in that blue Henley that had the arms pulled up to his forearm revealing the long veins and thick structure underneath. You needed him, now.
He pulled back just as your lips brushed his, a dark smirk and a filthy blue colour surfacing in his orbs. Fucking tease.
“You know you gotta use your words sweetheart” One of his big hands, his metal one, landed on the back of your skull, the metal thumb dancing over your bottom lip before you sucked it into your wet mouth. He growled at the innocent look you gave him as your tongue flicked over the tip before poking out and running up the underside of the shiny plates.
He pushed down, holding your tongue in place as it travelled, drool dripping from the muscle but he didn’t care, the sight of the rivulets of saliva sliding down the silver had him harder than a rock. One of the most technologically advanced pieces of handiwork and you were sucking on it like a little slut, pathetic.
He had you in his room before you could even blink, the rough slamming of the door vibrating the wall he pushed you up against.
“You’re a little slut ain’t you? Sucking on my thumb like my cock, getting your drool everywhere, you’re so lucky I don’t make you clean it up” he spoke as he hastily pulled your shirt and his off, his dog tags jangling softly as they fell back into place between his huge chest. You moved like a magpie, gripping at the shiny metal tags, giving them a squeeze, his name imprinting for a second of the fat of your palm before letting them slip between your fingers.
He watched you, ever fascinated at just how worked up you got about him, but it was your love for his dog tags that had him curious. You always, without fail slipped a finger around them, whether it was when you pulled him close for a kiss or if your slept on his chest, one of your fingers slipped itself through the chain and held them close to your hand.
He wasn’t stupid though, he could practically smell when you soaked yourself, always conveniently after his swinging tags made contact with your chin or ran up the column in your spine, the way that little pussy tightened around him when the old metal swept over your lips, tapping your teeth as you moaned out in pleasure. It made him embarrassingly weak too.
“You want me to fuck you cute girl?” He groaned into the crook of your neck, his plush lips suckling obscene dark marks downward till he reached the crevice of your breasts, your legs wrapped around him tighter as his hand grazed over your sensitive sides to the meat of your tit, gripping it softly and flicking a warm thumb over your nipple. You jerked into him at the shock of pleasure, your hand carding through his waves of hair and pulling him close as worked on the underside of your other boob.
“Words Sweetheart, I need words” He knew it wouldn’t be long till you hit that sub space, the same thing always happened when you were stressed, you needed your big Sergeant to take the wheel, use you a little bit.
“Please” fuck the whimper in your voice had him grinding up into you, the scratchy fabric of his jeans meeting the barely their material of the shorts you wore under your gear.
“Please what sweet thing?” he moved to watch the deep colour of your eyes swim with lust, eradicating any stress they once held, he was doing his job.
“Please use me Sir” you whined, fingers wrapping around the chain of his dog tags again to pull him close, finally getting that kiss you so desperately needed. His left hand cupped your cheek, rubbing a thumb over the high point softly, a sharp contrast to the bruising kiss you had going on. Teeth clashed with teeth, soft whimpers falling from your lips as he pushed closer, flicking his tongue viciously with your much weaker one, running against the top of it and sucking once it gave up it’s fight. He pulled you in again, tender with his lips this time, enclosing your swollen ones with his, his tongue running over your upper lip soothingly.
“Fuck! You’re making me go crazy” he chuckled as he moved off the wall, backing himself up to the bed till his calves hit the frame. He sat down with both of you, your body straddling him, his right hand pushing you back and forth softly on his bulge. The lust in his eyes mixed with a softness as he looked up at you, his metal hand still on your face although now his shiny forefinger and thumb hooked onto your chin, pulling you forward for a kiss, and another, and another. You whined, you didn’t want kisses and grinding, you wanted him to blow your back out, use your pretty face, anything but this.
Seeming to sense your thoughts he stopped your movements, the right hand coming up to join his left on either side of your face.
“What do you want sweetheart? You want your soldier to ruin you? I can feel how hot you are on my dick… you want it bad don’t you?” You moaned at his words, dripping filthily from his tongue, he sure had a way to fuck you up without even pulling out his cock.
“Yes, yes please. Use me” he smirked, satisfied at your whimpered begging. With a click of his tongue and a flick of his eyes he had you manoeuvring onto your knees in front of him.
He was a sight, he looked carved from marble, each bend of his body, every nook and muscle and vein delicately etched into rock solid stone to be preserved for a lifetime. His bulge strained painfully against his jeans, angrily awaiting your slender fingers offering it reprise from its tight cell. You were glad to give it just that.
Clumsily, you fiddled with the thick belt around his waist, smiling in satisfaction when the rhythmic clanks finally hit your ears. You flicked the button open and were about to pull the zip of his fly when his hand stopped you.
“With your mouth sweetness” his lip caught between his teeth, a soft blush decorated his face and chest as he watched you. Your tongue ran up the metal, the slight tang hitting your tastebuds, you flicked the little tab until sat snug between your teeth and pulled it down slowly, each tooth of the zip clicking as it finally opened.
Once you were done, Bucky pushed the thick material down his legs with a relieved sigh, letting it pool at his ankles before flicking them off with your help. His hard-on raged against the soft grey briefs, a pool of darkness lay at the head, precum soaking through.
His hands met yours, pulling them up his thighs and hooking them around the waistband of his briefs. He smiles down at you, eyes crinkling and neck craned as he watched you both inch down his underwear until it caught on his tip, he hissed as the scratchy fabric pulled over his silky head before it slapped deliciously onto his public bone and stomach.
“God” he chuckled breathlessly at the feeling of finally being free “look at you drooling all over yourself for me, you want a taste sweet thing?” His metal fingers had wrapped themselves around the fat base of his length, pushing it forward till the spongy tip hooked onto your upper lip, his salty precum smearing over it like a x-rated lip balm.
You pecked the tip of his dick, the tip of your tongue barely poking him as you did. You moved down, lips brushing against every angry vein on his cock until you met the metal of his hand in which you slowly licked a thick strip back up until you swirled your wet muscle against his head relentlessly.
“Fuck sweetheart, good girl” he groaned, head lulling back as his hips jittered off the bed softly, pushing his head into your awaiting mouth. You sucked him in greedily, selfishly inhaling his thick musky scent that had your pussy drooling against your lace panties, threatening to spill into your shorts— you didn’t doubt that if he had you naked, your essence would drip all over the wood of the floor— he’d have a field day making you clean it up.
“God you’re so good, ha— making your soldier feel so good, you like your sergeant all needy? Ready to pull you up off that floor and sink my cock into you” You moaned against his length, gagging softly when he jerked up into the back of your throat.
“Shit, Nuh uh get up here, I wanna cum in that pretty pussy, move come on” He pulled you up and off his length like you weighed nothing at all, his fingers ripping the shorts from your body and only stopping when he caught a glimpse of you’re soaked panties.
“Fuck girl, who’s got you like this hmm?” His thick thumb brushed small circles over your neglected clit. You moaned loudly, jerking off the bed with a shudder at the feeling, more of your slick pooling into your already soaked gusset.
“Mmm I can fucking smell you, smell so good baby… bet I could fuck you without prep, you want that?” He spoke, his voice deep, laced with primal lust— nothing like the composed grumpy old man everyone else saw— no, he was raw, unhinged, pupils blown wide with sexual desire. You wanted nothing more than his cock in you.
“Please Buck, just your cock I don’t care just please” you cried when he pushed particularly hard on your aching nub, your knuckles turning white as you fisted then covers beneath you; your legs shook as they threatened to close on his thick forearm, you were close already but you didn’t want to cum without him filling you out.
He gleamed at your form, fucked out, soaked and crying already— he’d barely fucking touched you— he couldn’t wait to see your face as he fucked you raw.
He ripped your panties with renewed vigour, the ruined material pulled away from your sensitive heat to hang around the your ankle that now sat over Bucky’s muscular shoulder. Your thigh quaked softly at the stretch but his cold digits ran softly against the tight muscle, soothing it for the time being.
His fat head tapped against your clit, each wet slap causing your body to twitch off the bed at the electric jolts of pleasure it sent up your spine. You could feel Bucky’s fingers circling your entrance, two of his thick fingers squishing into your tight hole as he prepped you lightly. When they left, a long line of arousal followed, connecting him to you, he growled at the sight before licking the wetness from his rough palm and middle finger.
“Mmm so sweet, if I wasn’t so fucking horny I’d make you cum all over my face… make you soak my mouth, shit” he was talking more to himself than you but you clenched around nothing at the thought, the thought of him eating you out for hours was not impossible, he’d done it before.
His thick tip drooling against your entrance pulled you from your trance, he pushed softly, hooking his head along the tight rim of your pussy as he stared up at you.
“you ready sweet thing?” He leaned over, right hand resting against the side of your head, his thumb flicking stray tears from your cheeks. You nodded softly, eyes unmoving from him, watching as his lips twitched in pleasure as his head popped into you, each inch dragging in slowly, aided by your soaked folds.
You moaned pathetically, his head running over your g-spot had you clenching around him, your orgasm hitting you quickly, your hands tightening painfully against the sheets as white hot pleasure soaked through your nerves. Everything was tingling, flashes of colour dancing over your closed eyelids.
Bucky wasn’t much better as he watched you, having to will his own orgasm down at the sight of you losing yourself over him already. You were a fucking sight to him, your tits bouncing with each sharp breath you took, mouth hung open allowing each whimper or silent scream to escape unabashedly.
“Ohh good girl, that’s it mmmm shit you’re fucking clenching me tight baby” Bucky mumbled, words falling from his lips in verbal mush, his own mind barely keeping up. When you finally came down from your high you open your eyes to look up at him, a shy little smile playing on your lips at the way he bore down at you.
“I’m so-“ you began but he pushed forward, sucking up your moan at the feeling of him hitting your cervix into his mouth.
“Don’t you dare be fucking sorry for that sweetheart, you hear? Fucking almost made me cum like a fucking teenager again, naughty girl ain’t you? I fucking love you” His hot breath panted against your lips as he growled at you, the last thing he wanted was for you to feel ashamed about the pleasure you were feeling. You blushed deeply, it was quite funny just how much his love for you made you blush, even when he was currently pushing against the deepest parts of you.
“Can I move baby?” He asked against your lips, smiling satisfyingly as you nodded before planting a wet kiss on your lips and pushing himself up.
He started slow, letting each vein pull against every nerve in your heat, his teeth clenching at just how tight you’d squeeze every time his head brushed against your sweet bundle of pleasure. His smooth pace never lasted long though, his hips jerked violently against you once he deemed you ready enough, your body slipping up across the sheets at each slam of his hips against your thighs.
He was leaning over you now, your leg pushed up between both your bodies, his dog tags clanging above your face at each jerk of his body. You reached a hand up, encircling the darkened metal, pulling on it as your body twitched with hints of a second orgasm.
“Shit! You like when my fucking tags hang over your face, fucking little slut aren’t you? You like being fucked like this? your sergeant fucking all that stress away? Mmm god, maybe I’ll put them around your neck next time hmm? Have you wear them when you’re riding me, let them fucking swing between those tits— god you’d love that” Bucky rambled, on and on, thrusts becoming sloppy as you clenched around him for the umpteenth time, only this time your orgasm slammed into you like a freight train, you could feel yourself soaking Bucky’s dick and thighs— probably soaking the already destroyed sheets below you.
With one final thrust Bucky’s moan caught in this throat as he pushed himself the deepest he could go, hot cum soaking your cervix and pushing out against his length to run along your folds, mixing with your juices. His legs give out forcing himself against you even more, pulling a pained whine from you at the feeling. As your orgasms settled, your breathing slightly less laboured although still heavy, you pulled him close by his tags, kissing his blissed out face right on the lips.
“You were so good for me sweet thing, so fucking good” he praised, his metal hand running through your tangled hair, soothing your heated scalp.
He leaned back up with a groan, massaging your aching leg as he pulled it from his shoulder before slipping out of your pussy. You both moaned at the loss, your heat clenching against nothing as his cum slipped from your body in waves. He couldn’t tear his eyes from your heat, tongue poking out to wet his lips as he watched intently. You giggled shyly at his intense expression, your aching legs closing softly in embarrassment much to Bucky’s dismay.
“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up” he smiled, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you to the bathroom. You snuck a glimpse of the sheets as he carried you, the whole area soaked in a mixture of you both.
“Oh my god” you whispered in disbelief against his head.
“What?” He replied as he set you down and began running a bath.
“The sheets are ruined, I can’t believe I did that” you eyed his naked frame from behind, his wide back flushed red but still absolutely stunning, each muscle rippling as he moved methodically, his small waist directing you to his thick globes. It was then Bucky turned to look at you, catching you ogling at his ass, he laughed when you turned quickly.
“It makes me proud when I look at those sheets, I mean who else can make you squirt like that? Fucking no one” he growled the last part against your lips giving you a quick smooch before turning the water off and lifting you both into the hot bubbled water.
His hands massaged your shoulders, working out the knots from your activities as well as any left over stress from your mission, not that there was any after he fucked it out of you.
You two sat in silence, save for the occasional sigh you let out when he hit the right spot, both savouring each other’s presence, reminiscing on the way you exhausted each other. You laugh when you remember his words.
“What? what’s got you all giggly?” he asked, nipping the skin on the nape of your neck.
“Nothing… just… were you being serious?”
“About what sweetheart?” He eyes you curiously.
“About letting me wear your dog tags” you suppress a smirk as you feel him twitch against your back, obviously your words sparking something in him.
“We’ll discuss it later” he rasped causing you to laugh out loud.
Your week had been stressful, with never ending problems and constant nagging from the higher ups to do the job but when you were in Bucky’s embrace, when you had those dog tags between your fingers or dangling over your face, everything melted away into nothingness, leaving you and Bucky alone.
-
So I lied mwahahahaha, I was going to post it yesterday but I love alcohol so I was drunk but here we are.
I’m a little nervous to post this one idk why.
I hope you enjoyed x
(I do not own any of the photos, credits to original owners)
Description: you're on a camping trip with your two friends, and the scariest guy from school: Eddie Munson. A few beers and some weed change the way you look at him however. Maybe he's not so scary after all. Cocky, oh yes, but not scary. Especially the way your legs start to squeeze together at the sight of him. But, does he like you, or is this some cruel game to play on the innocent band geek?
A/n: do I have 10 WIPs? Yes. Do I have requests I'm working on? Also yes. So logically, I started a one shot from a smutty dream I had, that turned into a freaking long one. Enjoy!
Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI or I'll feed you to the fishes. Very smutty, a bit of angst, hella fluff! Reader is AFAB, cocky!experienced!Eddie x Virgin!band geek!fem!reader, very slight dub con in the beginning (touching over panties, explicit consent not given), female fingering receiving, dry humping, female oral receiving, p in v protected sex.
❤️Reblogs are what keep me going; they keep Tumblr going, and my little black heart beating. Reblog my work and I'll love you forever sweetheart. ❤️
12.5k words (oops)
Masterlist
"You know you guys can't handle this shit!"
Eddie laughs, nearly spilling the beer cradled in his hand.
Steve rolls his eyes, chucking his beer top into the campfire you guys had set up for the evening, the paint sparking briefly.
"Come on Munson, pass it round, quit being a bitch."
"Yeah Eddie, share the love!"
Robin giggles as she clutches her chest dramatically. Shaking your head, you shift uncomfortably on the ground. It's not that you haven't been around this sort of stuff before, people you weren't too keen on have smoked once in your company. It wasn't even a moral thing, you were just a little scared of the effect. That, and the fact you were sitting right next to Eddie Munson.
Eddie, the guy you've literally been frightened of since you saw him leaping on tables in the cafeteria. That was some time ago, and Robin had assured you he was a good guy. You trusted her judgement completely, hence why you'd even considered going camping with the three of them for the weekend. It didn't help the fact that you were just a band geek, not used to these sorts of get togethers. Hell, your closest friends played chess for fun. This was so out of your comfort zone that you felt like a deer in headlights. Only a week ago you had your first beer, at 21; the proper age. Now you were sucking back a brew in the woods at night, sitting next to the drug dealer of the area.
It could just be the beer talking, but Eddie looks good right now. Every time he shook his mane of hair out of his face it had you biting your lip. He threw his head back when he laughed and the sight of that stretched neck of his had you clenching your thighs, feelings bubbling up that you'd never felt before.
So when his hand reached out and his fingertips grazed you, a blunt pressed between his thick ringed fingers, you gasped, pulling your hand away as if it had been burned.
"Come on, take it."
Your tongue feels thick and swollen, sticking to the roof of your mouth. Words. Think of words.
"Can't you, erm, pass it the other way?"
"No, it always goes to the left sweetheart."
Sweetheart.
Glad the low light hides your blazing cheeks at the pet name, you dip your eyes downward for fear of them exposing you. You played the flute for Christ's sake. This was not your thing.
"I-I, well, I-"
"You not smoked before?"
Robin's voice cuts through the myriad of noises in your head, making you turn violently.
"I just, I never-"
"Look at me."
Those words from him sing through your nerves, making you forget any thought you had, or anticipated. As you turn, Eddie's dark eyes bore into you.
"You trust me?"
No. A thousand times no.
"Yes."
"Come here."
He shifts and gets up on his knees, joint pressed between pouting lips as he lights it again, the cherry blazing almost as hot as your blood right now. You mimic his movements, rising on shaky thighs to kneel in front of him.
"Right, I'm gonna take a pull, and blow the smoke, when I breathe out, you breathe in, 'kay?"
His words are sweet, and a little condescending, an edge of talking down that just stirs up your insides further, guts a puddle.
"Okay."
He cups his hands to his face, gesturing for you to do the same. Raising your shaking hands, you touch them delicately with his. He flips his hands so they are on the outside, cupping yours, pushing them together with a lot more force than you did.
He's close, so close. Your breath hitches in your throat, those deep eyes a couple of inches from yours. Heat radiates from his body, your skin itching almost from its blistering warmth. That could just be from the fire. Or the fire in between your legs.
He smells good. There's weed there, sure, and the beer you've all been drinking, and some aftershave you couldn't place, maybe bergamot? An undercurrent lies beneath it all, of man and skin, that makes your toes curl.
He breathes into you then, the swirling smoke trying to escape your cupped hands.
You inhale deeply, focusing on the feel of Eddie's rough hands, on his touch. You breathe in until there's nothing left and hold it. His eyes don't leave yours, sparkling in the fire light.
The exhale hurts more. Breathing out smoke, you revel in the fact you didn't cough or startle. The feeling of him letting go of your hands is far worse.
A ringing, whooping noise finally reaches your ears, between the sound of your own blood pumping. Robin and Steve are cheering like morons, but your gaze doesn't leave Eddie.
"There you go. Good girl."
Damn.
A sharp intake of breath pulls into your lungs and straight to your heat. The pure shock and desire those two words drew from you have you dropping backwards, butt slamming into the pine needle dusted ground.
"Hey you OK?" Robin's hand on your shoulder distracts you briefly and you flash a weak smile.
"Sure, just went to my head a little, I'm good."
Eddie's hand reaches over you, passing the blunt to Robin. You dare not look him in the eye, fearful that everything you felt was written all over your innocent face. Out of your periphery, you can tell he's facing you. Suddenly the fire was extremely interesting.
Robin has a couple of tokes, and tries a third when Steve waves at her.
"Quit hogging it!"
"OK, don't get your panties in a twist!" Passing it to Steve with a loud huff, he takes it and breathes deep. And promptly coughs his guts out.
Robin and Eddie cackle, and even you can spare a giggle at the irony.
"Told you Harrington. Even the little band cutie took it better than you!"
"Fuck off Munson."
Hell, he knows who I am. And he called me cute.
This is Eddie. Scary, metal head, drug dealer Eddie. Eddie who all of a sudden stirs your insides up and makes your head dizzy. Eddie who you now realise is actually goddamn gorgeous.
Eddie takes a hit and turns to you.
"You wanna try smoking it sweetheart?"
Heart hammering in your ribs, you manage to speak.
"C-can you do, that thing, again?"
His smile is dipped in sin as he scoots nearer to you, and you copy him. Suddenly this seems more intimate, sitting on the ground, twisting to face each other, inches away. He takes a hit and holds it, gesturing at you to lean closer. The way he tilts his head, you could almost believe he's going to kiss you. This time, he cups your face, blowing smoke at you. It's so close his lips brush yours ever so softly.
You're not sure if your inhale was intentional or a shocked gasp, but in the smoke goes.
Did he mean to do that?
One look into his eyes tells you yes. There's a cockiness to his grin, the devil dancing across his face.
So, did he do it because he likes you, or is he just messing with you? Only Eddie knows the answer to that.
You exhale, less than an inch from his full lips. Time stops. That is until Steve and his loud mouth break the spell.
"Come on, get a room you guys!" He practically yells, throwing a twig in your direction.
You snap your head away from Eddie and stare at Steve with wild eyes.
"I-I wasn't, we- we weren't-"
"We weren't? Well, that's a damn shame."
As you glance back at Eddie he's leaning on propped up elbows, looking so sure of himself that it's annoying, bordering on making you angry.
Cheeks flooding with warmth, your mouth forms words without checking with your brain first.
"Y-you know what you are Eddie?"
He tilts his head at you, still smirking, and gestures a hand willing you to continue.
"A cocky mother fucker."
The grin falls from his face as he looks at you in shock. Robin and Steve practically piss themselves laughing at your sudden outburst.
"Shit Eddie you better watch out!" Robin laughs out.
"Yeah, that kitty's got claws dude." Steve agrees.
Embarrassed at your own words, you risk glancing at Eddie. You were expecting him to be upset, angry even. That's not the case; he looks impressed.
"Shit, yeah, I can see that. Didn't know you had it in you sweetheart."
Smiling to yourself, you stretch your legs and wiggle your feet. You impressed him. Your turn for a smug smile.
Pretty soon the high starts to settle in; a warmth seeps through your bones and a tingle spreads from your head into your body. It feels like you're quivering whilst sitting still. Steve offers you another beer but you turn it down, well aware that being too foggy right now would be a bad idea. Especially since Eddie has been creeping closer. Now you're side by side, hips so close any time he moves he brushes against you.
The fire dies down, turning to embers. The beer coat has vanished, leaving you shivering. Steve and Robin are already under a blanket; you can see Robin's eyes are close to closing.
"You ok there sweetheart? Cold?"
"I-I'm O-OK."
"No you aren't, you're shaking."
Without a further word he's taking off his jacket and putting his arm firmly around you. Whatever space there was between you has melted away, sides now flush.
You could say the same for your face. This may well be the closest you've been to a boy. Well, a man. He drapes the jacket over the pair of you, covering your crossed legs and his lap, and rubs his hand smoothly up and down your arm to warm you. Little does he know how much he's warming your insides, each stroke sending a buzzing desire through your limbs.
Steve's chatting away; yet another story about Dustin spilling from his lips when you feel Eddie's other hand snaking underneath the jacket, coming to rest on your thigh.
Eyes wide, you flick your gaze towards him.
"What are you doing?" You whisper urgently.
"Just warming you up sweetheart."
He says it so sweetly, yet it belies the movements of his hand, moving further up your leg to run soft circles just underneath the hem of your skirt.
You can't hear a word Steve is saying, unable to concentrate on anything but Eddie's touch and the whooshing blood in your ears. No one had ever touched you like this, not once.
Robin's shrill voice breaks through the fizzing in your head; once again her and Steve are arguing over something. You might have heard Vickie being mentioned but you can't be sure.
Eddie's hand trails higher, within reach of your panties. Breath catching in your throat, you mean to admonish him but all that comes out is a breathy noise.
"Eddie…"
He rests his chin on your shoulder, hot breath fanning your ear.
"You want me to stop?"
You don't answer, you can't. You're frozen, unable to move, unable to make a sound lest a moan escape your lips.
He wouldn't dare, not with Steve and Robin here, would he?
He would.
Eddie runs a finger gently down the front of your panties. The softest touch, a whisper of a thing. Then he does it again, up and down, pressing the cotton of your briefs into your private parts.
You can feel your insides fluttering, a burning settling between your legs, being stoked by every barely there touch. Suddenly, he presses down on something that has you softly whimpering and clenching at nothing. A tingle shoots down your legs to the tips of your toes.
You hear a small noise; it's Eddie chuckling in his throat. It snaps you out of your frozen state and you move to get up.
"I'm going to bed guys."
Standing abruptly, you let Eddie's jacket fall from you as he scrambles to keep it over his own lap.
You turn to your tent and hear Steve and Robin wish you goodnight, and mumble about going to bed soon too.
"Night guys!"
"Want any company sweetheart?"
There he is, sitting with that arrogant look on his face.
"Goodnight, Eddie."
You say it firmly, even though your resolve is as substantial as tissue paper. Stomping over to your tent, you turn on your camp light and sit on your double inflatable bed, hugging your knees.
Now that you're alone you realise how much that weed affected you. You feel airy, light as a feather, fingers and toes still tingling.
It must be the drugs.
You focus on the reality of the situation. You just let some guy touch you down there. Eddie Munson touched you over your panties.
So why weren't you scared? Or angry at him? It's not like he asked. The fact is that no one's done anything like that to you before, and it felt incredible. Left you aching for more. That thought was making you more frightened than anything else.
You listen to the group slowly pad their way off to bed, rustles of clothing, mumbled 'goodnights', and tent zips.
To the left of your tent was the huge six berth Steve had brought for him and Robin. It was fancy, you assume he 'borrowed' it from his parents. On the cusp of hearing there was bickering. You don't know how Robin and Steve became friends, or how they maintained it since they acted like an old married couple most of the time, but it seemed to work. After a few minutes soft snores echoed from the two of them.
No sound comes from the other side, where Eddie had pitched a little coffin tent. You wonder if he's still sitting by the dying embers of the fire. He's probably smoking.
Stop thinking about him.
You undress, only pulling an oversized t-shirt on to sleep in since your big sleeping bag is so warm. You'd bought a double one with your birthday money last year because you hated feeling restricted. It was a luxury but with all the camping you did it just made sense. Snuggling into its spacious depths, you attempt to quiet the raging hormones coursing through your veins.
God, why is he so annoying and smug? It burned you up, but you couldn't deny how much it turned you on.
You slide your hand between your legs, pressing hard to try and quench the fire. He did something, you're sure of it. This wasn't natural for you, movements unsure and bordering on clumsy. When you run your finger through your naked folds you whimper, and see how wet you are. Gasping, you explore further, and find that spot, a hidden nub that sends a bolt of lightning to your core.
"Oh fuck," you breathe out in a moan, starting to rub up and down.
"You alright in there sweetheart?"
Oh shit, he's right outside the tent. Was he there the whole time?
"Yeah, what do you want?"
"I'm cold, can I come in?"
No.
"Y-yeah."
He unzips the tent and enters, crouching to accommodate his height. Closing the tent up, he takes in his surroundings, letting out a low whistle.
"Pretty sweet set up you've got here, your folks rich or something?"
"No, I just do a lot of camping with the troop."
"Huh?" He looks confused, falling to his knees to look you in the eyes.
"The girl scouts, I volunteer as a leader."
The laughter that comes from him is loud and rich.
"Fuck, you got that little innocent act down don't you?"
It's your turn to look confused.
"What on earth are you talking about Eddie?"
He scoffs at you, clearly not buying it.
"The cute little band geek thing, helping out with girl scouts. Shit, the whole 'can you do that thing again?' " He mimics your words from earlier and you flush crimson.
"Eddie, I honestly don't know what you're going on about. I never smoked before, I hadn't even had a beer before my 21st last week. I've never even- no one's done what you did, outside."
Eddie's jaw may as well be on the floor.
"You're fucking with me."
You shake your head, lips pressed tight.
"Well, now I feel like an asshole." He huffs out, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed.
"Well maybe you should, you never asked."
"I'm sorry, I just- I thought you were one of those freaky band kids. You kept looking at me like you were gonna eat me alive, I thought I was in for a rough night." He laughs, shooting a gaze at you.
"Well you thought wrong." You turn your head, arms crossed firmly over your chest.
"I'll go if you want. Want me to leave?"
Yes.
"No."
A smile spreads slowly across his face, and he inches closer to you on his hands and knees, palms splayed on the foot of your air bed.
"So, you want me to stay?"
"No."
"So… should I sleep in the doorway?"
A fair question, considering your answer. You laugh, looking back at him. His smile is softer, much less mocking. It's sweet almost, sanding down your rough edges.
"Yeah, you can be my bodyguard. Protect me from bears and mountain lions and stuff."
He chuckles and climbs over; you lay back on instinct, further away. Leaning right over you, his face is an inch from yours, hair tickling your cheek.
"You know, I could protect this beautiful body of yours better if I was in the sleeping bag with you."
"You don't give up, do you?" You whisper into his skin, sounding braver than you felt.
"It was the sweet and innocent thing, did me in."
He plants a soft kiss to your cheek, brushing your skin, and another, to the corner of your mouth that makes you shiver.
"Tell me to stop."
"Eddie, kiss me."
His mouth is on your then, hot and heavy, tongue begging at your bottom lip. You give him an inch and he takes a mile, tongue sliding against yours with practised movements. Not expecting the full force of his kiss, you suddenly realise you're moaning into his mouth, hands coming to wind into his loose locks.
He breaks away, chuckling at the way you chase his lips.
"You know, you don't kiss like a good girl."
Merely whining in response, you try to catch your breath.
"So, can I get in the sleeping bag? I'm freezing out there."
"Fine, just, no funny business." You point your finger at him, gasping when he licks it long and slow.
"Nothing you don't want me to do." He winks, and pulls his t-shirt over his head.
"What are you doing?"
He ignores you, pulling his socks off and unbuttoning his jeans.
"I'm getting undressed. Why, expect me to sleep in my jeans?"
You merely screw your nose up in response. Stripped down to his boxers, he clambers his lithe body onto the sleeping bag with you, all elbows and knees. Sighing, you move over to accommodate him but he wraps his arms around you.
"Eddie, what-"
"I'm cold sweetheart, just, warm me up a little?"
Your heart is hammering in your ribcage with the realisation that you're entirely out of control of this situation. You allow him to hold you, and hesitantly rest your arm over him. Your head is snuggled into his neck, feeling more comfortable than you had any right to be.
"Eddie, your legs are freezing."
"I know! I wasn't lying, my sleeping bag's shitty."
He pushes his thigh between yours, and you remember a split second too late that you're not wearing any bottoms. Suddenly, his bare thigh is pressed against your naked heat. You're praying to any Gods that might be listening that he doesn't notice, attempting to stay as still as possible.
He's warming up slowly, but you're stiff as a post, trying not to focus on his thigh and the slight pressure it's putting on your most delicate parts.
"So, you gonna tell me what you were doing sweetheart?"
"What?" You whisper into the soft skin of his neck.
"Well, I came out of my tent to see if you were still awake, and imagine my surprise when I heard moaning."
"N-no, I wasn't!"
"Quit lying, I can feel your cunt on my leg."
You nearly choke on your own saliva.
"Eddie, you can't just say that!"
You hit him on the chest. He just laughs, dragging your little fist to his mouth to kiss it.
"I can when you're soaking my leg."
Opening your mouth to respond, all words escape you. Especially when he grinds his thigh against your folds. Instead of words, a whimper breaks from your lips.
"Yeah? That good sweetheart?"
The smugness is back, but you can't find it in you to care, not when he rocks his hips and the force of his leg sets loose a roll of pleasure. He's hard, it's pressing into your hip.
A lean arm curls around you, his thick thumb finding its way to your chin to lift it upwards. You stare into his darkened eyes as they dart to your lips and back up.
All resolve is dissolved like ash in the rain as you feel the intensity of his stare and the warmth of him between your thighs. You crash your lips to his desperately, hips chasing friction. When his heavy tongue slips into your mouth you respond in kind, needy and vigorous.
He takes his thigh away and you huff at the loss, but it's not for long, not when that hand of his is stroking down your front, lightly massaging your hardened nipples and chasing down to your stomach. He cups your mound, one finger pushing down on your swollen nub.
"Eddie."
It's a whimper, a plea into his open mouth. Responding by biting your bottom lip softly, he dips his finger lower, circling your entrance gently. His finger slips inside then and you clench around it immediately, moaning at the foreign feeling. It's odd, yes, but it's so good that you cry out.
"Gotta be quiet sweetheart, don't want anyone hearing me fuck you with my fingers."
His crude words are peppering your insides with fire, the evidence of your arousal seeping out of you. Humming in response, you bite your lip, clinging desperately to his side.
He slowly pumps his finger in and out, watching your face. You're slick jawed, eyebrows knitted tight, hips rolling with each thrust of his hand.
"Fuck you're so tight, can barely fit my finger in."
"Eddie, no one's ever-"
"Shhh, I fuckin' know sweetheart. Gonna make you feel really good. Just enjoy it."
He curls his finger inside you, incessantly stroking at something that's making your legs tense up and your insides flutter around him, the heel of his hand flat and hard against that spot again.
"Oh my God!" You whisper urgently, fingernails digging into his sides.
"I know baby, feels good yeah?"
"Uh huh" you manage to breathe out as your eyes squeeze shut.
The pressure collating in your tummy is building and building as he speeds up, finger reaching deep inside. It releases, and flows from you, wave after wave crashing down and washing away everything but Eddie.
You muffle your cries of pleasure in the skin of Eddie's chest, resisting the urge to clamp your teeth into his flesh.
As you come down, he releases his digit with a wet sucking sound that probably would have made you embarrassed five minutes ago, but now it's just inconsequential.
"Still with me?" He asks softly as he hugs you close.
"Barely" You mumble; he chuckles at your reply.
He rolls you on top of him, moving your legs so you're straddling him. His hard on is pressing firmly into your privates, your slick dampening the front of his boxers immediately.
"Eddie, I'm not- I can't have sex with-"
"Sweetheart, you trust me?"
Yes.
"No."
There's that look again, that edge of mocking that isn't making you annoyed anymore, it's making you want to pull his underwear down and slip him inside of you.
"I'm not gonna fuck you. Not unless you want me to. Relax sweetheart."
His hands are on your ass, moving you against him to grind on his rock hard bulge. Your eyes widen, the friction so much better than his thigh.
He lets out a stifled moan, and damn if it isn't the best noise you've heard in your life.
His hands trail under your shirt as you take over moving against him, feeling the shape of him under you. Tugging at the hem, he looks up at you with pleading eyes.
"Can I- can I take this off?"
All feelings of modesty have fled and you whip your shirt over your head and fling it across the tent.
"Fuck, look at you."
Leaning forward he takes your nipple into his mouth and rolls his tongue around and around.
"Eddie, oh Holy fuck!"
Your movements become faster and sloppy, so he grabs you by the hips to slow you down.
"You know what I think?" He says, in between wet open mouthed kisses to your breasts, "I think you are a freak. You just didn't know it yet." He chuckles darkly, and sucks hard at one of your nipples.
Your moan is loud and bordering on pornographic as you rut yourself against him harshly, all pretence of keeping quiet forgotten as your stomach tightens again in thick knots of pleasure.
"Oh Eddie, I'm- I'm gonna cum oh fuckfuckfuck!"
It all undoes at once as you release and clench around nothing, pussy throbbing with ecstasy. The bones in your body seem to disintegrate, muscles a distant memory as you flop against him.
Eddie's not done.
"Come on sweetheart, just a little longer."
He encourages your hips to move again as you lay on his chest, skin glowing with perspiration. You can only grunt in response and start grinding against him again, the feeling so intense it has you clenching your teeth with pleasure pain.
"That's it, fuck, I'm so close. There's my good girl, just, oh shit, little more."
His praise bubbles through you and you speed up to meet his rutting hips, your slick sticking to the tops of your thighs.
"Feel so good sweetheart, oh shit!"
Lifting your head, you do it just in time to watch Eddie's eyes screw shut, mouth panting open with pleasure as he holds your hips in a death grip. His cheeks and neck are flushed, the vein in his neck pulsing. You press your lips to it softly, leaving feather dusted kisses over his neck and jaw as he comes down from his glowing high.
"Holy shit." He laughs into you, kissing the top of your head over your hair.
"Indeed" your reply is breathless as you melt into his front, attempting to ignore the stickiness.
"As much as I'm enjoying you naked on top of me, I need to, er-" He gestures vaguely at himself with one hand. For a minute you think he's just going to go, but instead he wriggles out of the sleeping bag and whips his boxers down.
You sit back on your heels, mouth agape as he casually cleans his spend with his underwear, wiping at the matted pubic hair. He's big; you could feel him under you but now you're faced with it you fear your eyes may bug out of your head.
Glancing down, you can see some of his cum escaped its fabric confinement; a few drops glisten on your lower abdomen. Curiosity gets the better of you as you gather it on your fingers to feel the consistency, rubbing it between thumb and forefinger. It's stickier than you thought. You bring your thumb to your mouth and suck the excess off. It's salty, and strange, but not unpleasant exactly.
When your eyes meet again Eddie looks awestruck, staring at you with the queerest expression on his face.
Embarrassed at being caught, you hide your hand behind your back as if scolded.
"Sorry, was that wrong?"
"No, fuck no," he chuckles, looking away, "just have to stop looking at me like that sweetheart."
"Why?"
"Hell, 'cause you're making me hard again."
"Oh."
You shyly put your head down and settle back down in the sleeping bag's warmth. To your amazement Eddie gets in with you.
"What are you doing?"
"I thought you said I could stay? Or you had enough of me?"
"N-no, I just… well, you're naked."
He laughs hard at that.
"So are you."
Nothing about this seems to phase him, but your mind is swirling around and around. You'd just had your first orgasms ever, and now you're going to be sleeping naked with a man. With Eddie Munson.
He's so much warmer now, skin hot to the touch. Hesitantly, you rest your hand on his chest. He pulls you close, picking up your little camp light with the other hand, fiddling with it briefly before offering it to you.
"Can you switch this thing off?"
You reach and press the button, plunging you both into darkness.
"Night sweetheart."
"Night Eddie."
********************
Early morning light wakes you, filtering through the tent fabric, coating everything in a warm glow.
Eddie is still here, laying on his back, snoring softly with you cuddled to his chest. You'd hate to admit it, but you were glad. Glad he didn't run off in the night. Glad that last night had actually happened and wasn't just your over active imagination playing some cruel joke.
Laying there, feeling the rhythm of his breathing, you take a second to really think.
What was actually happening? A part of you is frightened; scared that maybe Eddie sees your virginity as a challenge. Maybe that's why he stayed? You were staying another night after all. Or maybe this is a little holiday romance, something to keep him occupied whilst he's away. You'd had one before at band camp; nothing serious, just kisses and cuddles and radio silence on your return.
What were Robin and Steve going to say? You contemplated waking him up right now to sneak him back to his own tent, but that thought went straight out the window when you caught the sound of their tent being unzipped.
A soft bash to your tent startles you and makes Eddie snort himself awake.
"Hey guys I'm making coffee! Come and join us!"
Robin sings out and walks away to fuss over the fire it sounds like.
Oh Holy shit balls. Hey guys?? She knew Eddie was here. And if she knew, Steve knew.
Eddie smirks down at you as you stare at him with wild panic in your eyes.
"Guess our little secret is out sweetheart."
Before you can say a word he's unzipping the sleeping bag and fumbling about for his jeans, slipping them clumsily onto his legs.
"Eddie!" You whisper urgently. He just chuckles.
"What, want me to cut a hole in the back of the tent? Tunnel out?"
He's got a point.
"Eddie, please just don't-"
"Hey, I ain't one to kiss and tell, relax."
Before you can say another word he's perching a cigarette in between his plump lips and making his way out of the tent.
Fuck.
You pull on your clothes hastily, a skirt and t-shirt, and slide on your sneakers, attempting to untangle some of the messy bed head that had been created during the night.
It's now or never.
You exit the tent, attempting to look as casual about it as you can.
"Morning guys."
Steve smiles at you.
"Howdy cowgirl."
"Hi?"
You return his greeting, utterly confused, but by the sound of Robin shushing him violently and Eddie coughing on his cigarette you can only assume he meant something by that which went over your head. Robin breaks the tension, talking a mile a minute.
"Hey sleepy head! You want a coffee? I just made it over the fire. Crazy! I know it took forever. It'll wake you up. Not that you need waking up you're up and about and it's early! It's not like you had a long night. Well you might have how would I know anyway here's your coffee!!"
Seems you might have gotten a little loud, why else would Robin be breaking the sound barrier? You don't say a thing, just smile gratefully and take your coffee, entirely avoiding Eddie's eyes, and try to wish the blood away from your darkening cheeks.
"So, we thought we might have a swim in the lake in a couple hours when it's warmer, you in?"
Steve asks and you nod, aware your voice right now is not to be trusted.
So, after a little breakfast and small talk about the cold last night, which you put a particular emphasis on to try and explain away your little situation, you all go and change into your swimwear.
In your tent you lay out your usual one piece, the plain black one you always wear with the troop, and the other set. The bikini you bravely bought but never wore, deeming it far too skimpy for camp. But this wasn't girl scouts.
God damn he's already seen me naked, come on, be brave.
Skimpy number it is. You wear it underneath your clothes and grab a towel and a book, readying yourself to join the others.
Eddie and Steve walk ahead, talking obnoxiously loud; something you're quite glad of. At least they aren't whispering about you.
Robin walks side by side with you, practically vibrating.
"Just, whatever you wanna say, say it before you explode."
The voice that exits her mouth is so high pitched you're surprised dogs didn't start barking.
"You had sex with Eddie Munson!"
"I did not!"
"Totally did, we saw you!"
You stop in your tracks, mouth hanging open.
"What the fuck Robin!"
"Sorry, we didn't actually like, see you see you, we saw your shadows, 'cause of the light in your tent."
"We- I- I mean, we didn't, like, have sex, we just- did something else." You settle at lamely.
"Are you going to? He really likes you."
You scoff at that, continuing your walk.
"He's just trying to get in my pants, take my virginity. I doubt he'll even talk to me after."
Robin's hand shoots out to grab your arm.
"Oh, you don't know, do you?"
Feeling utterly confused, you turn to face her.
"What are you going on about?"
"Eddie likes you, he had a crush on you in high school. He was the one that suggested inviting you and nearly killed me when I actually did."
Your world turns sideways in your mind; everything is upside down, thoughts smashed, memories cut to ribbons in their wake.
"Huh? How- what?"
"He was telling Steve like a week ago, I was listening in and opened my mouth as per usual. I tried to tell you, remember?"
You rack your brains trying to come up with answers when a light bulb switches in your head.
"Hang on, you said Eddie wanted me to go before, didn't you? I honestly thought you were just joking with me, I didn't think he knew who I was!"
You reach the tree line and see the two boys a little further on, just on the tiny beach leading to the lake, stripping off their clothes.
"But he was so- so sure of himself!"
"Oh he's always like that. Pretty sure it's an act, he's actually super sweet when you get to know him."
You look up and stare at Eddie in his swim shorts. He'd been naked last night, but with the low light and distraction of seeing his privates for the first time you hadn't had the opportunity to really look at him all over.
He was lean and tall, but there was a broadness to his shoulders and a sinew to his muscles that made him stand out. Tattoos littered his frame, more than you thought he had but the detail was lost at this distance. You were walking closer, still staring at him, when he captures you. Smiling that smug grin of his he holds his arms out as if on display.
"See something you like sweetheart?"
On the edge of shying away, you look down; but then you remember Robin's words. He's the one with the crush on you. Feeling a little braver, bolstered by that thought, you walk closer, a couple of feet away from him, and stop.
"You look really good Eddie."
Pulling your t-shirt over your head, you smile at Eddie's reaction. Clearly not expecting such a bold move from you, his cheeks and neck are flushed pink. For once he seems speechless. You slip your skirt off and away, kicking it to one side.
This leaves you in your tiny baby blue triangle bikini, with delicate daisies embroidered on the hem. For once, your cleavage is fully displayed, and the ties for the bottoms ride high on your hips. You slip two fingers under each tied side and pull them up ever so slightly.
Eddie's eyes dart down and back up again, and you swear you see him swallow thickly in his throat.
"Well, you swimming or not handsome?"
Without a further glance you kick your shoes off and wade into the chilly water.
OK, keep calm, just look at him now.
Risking a quick peek back, you see him standing gormlessly on the sand, mouth hanging open. He looks so dorky, so unlike the Eddie you've seen so far that you giggle aloud.
Steve calls out to him, already in the clear water. He's stumbling into the lake after you then as if a fire was lit underneath him. Robin makes her way in too, and pretty sure you're laughing and splashing each other in earnest, the boys taking turns in dunking each other underwater.
Steve keeps screaming about his hair, which just makes you all laugh that little bit louder. Soon he's moping about it and swims off surprisingly fast. Robin says she wants to dry out and wanders back to the beach to read a little, leaving you and Eddie alone.
He swims straight to you, bodies a couple of inches apart. Suddenly the water doesn't feel so cold, warmed by the heat he seems to pull from you just by being close. That ache is there again, wanting to be filled by Eddie. You try and shake the thought away.
"Seems a little skimpy for a scout leader," he says, gesturing at your two piece.
"Well, I don't wear this one with the troop," you reply, attempting to look blasé about it.
"So, wore this just for me, sweetheart?"
You shrug, but know your eyes betray you, honesty etched into the look you give him.
"You did, didn't you? That's cute," he responds to his own question, reaching a hand up to hold you by the waist. All of a sudden his breath is in your ear, his other hand reaching up to your chest.
"You look hot by the way, I like the little flowers," as he says it he runs a finger over the hem of your bikini bra making you shudder.
"Eddie," you whisper, meaning to scold him but it just comes out a little too breathy for that.
He continues to whisper in your ear, each word sending a butterfly loose in your swirling stomach. "Wondering if I can stay in that tent of yours again. To stay warm?"
You laugh, turning to face him. "That's not all you want and you know it."
"Yeah?" He comes closer, lips so close to brushing yours, holding your chin between thumb and forefinger. You clench your thighs together as your eyes flutter shut.
"Seems you want more as well," he laughs, pulling back from you. The frown that appears on your face tells him all he needs to know.
As he moves away, his hand drops down, knuckles dragging slowly over your nipple, already pebbled by the water.
"Maybe later princess."
He turns to get out of the water. Furious with how forward he just was you shout after him.
"Eddie, you are such-"
"A cocky mother fucker?" He shouts back, stealing your thunder.
You clench your fists, nearly losing it treading water, and decide to swim away to cool off.
You're finding Robin's words hard to believe. He still seems so confident; maybe his little chat with Steve was a rouse to get you here so he could tease you. If he has liked you all this time, maybe it's just a sexual thing. Seduce the band geek.
When the ache between your thighs is lessened by the burning muscles in your arms and legs you swim back to shore and dry off, laying on your towel to read.
It's like the universe has it in for you today. A few more pages into your fantasy book and suddenly there's a sex scene. Usually, you'd just skim over the 'fruity bits' as your mom called them but now? Now it was as if Eddie had altered your brain chemistry and you found yourself absorbing every word in detail, thighs clenched together almost to the point of pain.
"What you reading?"
You jump visibly and look up to see Eddie couching over you, sodden locks leaving pitter patter drips on your legs.
"Eddie, you're dripping."
He smiles mischievously.
"Am I making you wet, sweetheart?"
You roll your eyes and replace your bookmarker, putting your book down to one side.
"Yes, Eddie, I'm soaking wet for you."
Triumph flashes over your features as you take in his wide eyes; so shocked at your reply he's nearly choking on air.
"You are strange Eddie. You can give it but you can't take it, can you?"
His eyebrows raise and he attempts to cover his flustered appearance.
"I'm just surprised, I thought you were a good girl."
Ignoring your heart thumping hard in your chest at those words, you shrug.
"And here I was thinking it was because you've had a crush on me since high school."
Eddie opens his mouth, and promptly closes it. When he speaks again it's quieter, almost like he's embarrassed.
"Who- how did-"
"Robin."
"Of course."
He stares at you then, all bravado gone. A moment passes where you both try and work out what this means, what the other is thinking.
Eddie coughs and stands up, breaking the spell.
"We're heading back to have lunch, if you wanna come."
He walks off then, not a further glance at you. Wondering if you upset him somehow, you gather your things and head back to camp.
********************
Later that evening, you're huddled around a campfire again having a couple of beers; or, in the case of Steve, several beers. Eddie had been civil, nice even, but there was no edge to him right now. You're not sure if you miss it or not, realising that you had actually grown fond of the push and pull between you, and that grin of his.
He'd disappeared at one point, and returned a little later with his acoustic guitar; beginning playing a little aimlessly, just background music to your tiny circle. He played beautifully; it really was mesmerising to watch his fingers dance over the strings.
"Play me a song, Eddie." You say, before you realise you were saying it aloud.
"Yeah?" He flashes a small smile and you encourage him by placing your hand on his knee.
"OK, just for you then sweetheart."
He breaks into a rendition of Should I Stay Or Should I Go, by the Clash. You're almost certain it's a jab at you because of last night and your failure to make your mind up. You don't mind; listening to the rest of the lyrics you realise you're hoping he means more than just a little in-joke. If you say that you are mine, I'll be here till the end of time.
When he finishes you all clap, Robin as quickly as a bird's wings flutters, and Steve just a little too loudly, probably due to too much alcohol.
"Thank you Eddie, that was brilliant." You smile softly at him.
"No problem sweets." He moves to put the guitar away but you wave your arm at him.
"Can I play something?"
A sharp intake of breath rings out from Steve and Robin but you pay it no mind. Eddie looks at you like he's sizing you up. Seems he comes to the conclusion that you aren't just going to pull some rockstar move and smash it on the ground, he passes it to you carefully.
You take it reverently in your hands and get comfortable with it, tuning the G string slightly as it was a little off when you heard it.
An idea springs to mind and you grin deviously to Robin over the fire, a grin which is reciprocated. She knows what you're about to do. The Band Camp thing.
You start to play the very beginning of a song extremely loudly, singly wildly off key.
"Kumbaya, my Lord-"
"Don't you fuckin' dare!" Eddie shouts, lurching a hand toward you to clamp over the fret.
"I'm kidding!" You giggle, prying his fingers away. Robin's laughing and Steve looks like he's about to burst, swaying in his seat.
"OK, no funny business."
"Not unless you ask for it." You wink, and start to play what you had intended all along.
"One pill makes you larger
And one pill makes you small
And the ones that mother gives you
Don't do anything at all…"
You lose yourself in the song, the melody. When you were younger you had just assumed it was nothing but a song about Alice in Wonderland. You knew better now, but it was fun to play and it suited your voice.
As you came to the conclusion your eyes fluttered shut and you sang out the last couple of lines like no one was even there.
"Remember what the dormouse said
Feed your head
Feed your head!"
Whooping and clapping finally reaches your ears as you open your eyes. Robin is going insane; Steve is shouting but it sounds slurred. Eddie just looks stunned as you pass his precious guitar back to him.
"You're incredible sweetheart." He looks genuinely impressed, staring at you with such intensity it makes you squirm.
"It was OK, my strumming's a little sloppy."
"But your voice! Jesus Christ, I've got goosebumps. You should sing, like, all the time."
You laugh, swatting him with your hand.
"I think that might get a little annoying."
"I'd love to listen to it all the time."
The sweet moment is broken by Robin gagging loudly.
"Munson that was so cheesy I'm gonna hurl."
He just shrugs, unbothered, and puts his guitar away. You didn't think it was too cheesy. In fact, you're breathless, thoughtless. The ache was settling back in, so deep in your bones there was no willing it away. It was clear; you needed him. Biblically.
As that realisation hits you like a ton of bricks, a soft thud breaks through to you. Steve has fallen backwards, already snoring.
"Well, looks like he needs to go to bed. Give me a hand guys."
Eddie stands up and lifts Steve bodily round his waist. Robin and you hover nearby, but he doesn't need your help after all.
Steve's giggling childishly, slurring words together.
"Don' wanna go bed, wan' sing too!"
"Sing in the morning, big guy."
You help Robin tuck him into his sleeping bag, as Steve mumbles Kumbaya under his breath.
Robin huffs. "I'll take it from here," and quieter, just to you, she whispers, "I'm putting earplugs in, go have fun."
"Robin, I-"
"Shhh you'll wake the baby. Just go, go!"
You leave the tent and see Eddie sitting by the fire, rolling a joint.
"Erm, Robin's going to bed too."
"Oh?" He looks at you, quirking one eyebrow. "Are you?"
"I'm not tired."
That shit-eating grin of his is back, tugging at the corners of his mouth slowly.
You sit down, right next to him, knees touching. He finishes rolling, licking it closed with a pointed tongue you can't help but stare at.
As he starts smoking, you finally let loose what's been on your mind all day.
"Why did you act funny with me? After I said you have a crush?"
He huffs a little laugh, blowing smoke through his nose.
"I thought that was obvious. I was embarrassed."
"Really? I didn't know Eddie Munson could get embarrassed."
He takes another drag and looks away.
"Yeah, well it happens. I don't like people knowing too much about me. Rather come across as mean and scary and-"
"-cocky?"
"Ha, yeah."
It's quiet again, but not a loaded quiet. You feel comfortable, almost enjoying the silence; just the slight rustle of pine needles in the breeze, and an owl hooting far away.
"You want some of this?"
Eddie's touch pulls you back to the moment, rough fingertips grazing you. The touch burns again, but differently this time. This time you melt under it.
"Can you, do that thing?" You ask in a small voice.
He smiles wickedly, straightening his legs out.
"Come here" He says as he pats his lap. You straddle him awkwardly, not sure if this is what he meant, but a firm hand grabs you by the ass and shifts you closer to him so your chests are flush.
"Like this?" You ask quietly, breathing the question.
"Just like that baby."
He takes a long toke and beckons you forward with one finger. When you're in range, nose lightly brushing his, he brings your chin toward him with one firm hand and presses his lips to your mouth.
Stiffening with surprise, you quickly soften, disarmed by his lips. You part yours and he breathes the smoke into you, allowing you to inhale deeply. Breaking away, you exhale the smoke downwards and look into his deep eyes.
"Do it again."
He bites his lip and smiles, flashing his teeth. He repeats the gesture; taking a pull, smashing his lips to yours and breathing into you. He doesn't let you pull away to breathe out; instead he presses his tongue into your mouth. Smoke burns your nose as you submit to him, the kiss becoming filthy and desperate as he grips onto the flesh of your ass.
Finally he lets up, if only to breathe. You're both panting, electricity in the air passing between and through you.
"I like it like that." You smile, hand resting on his chest.
"You keep surprising me sweetheart." He responds, hands kneading at the flesh of your hips.
A fuzziness rushes through every nerve, all of your body crying out, singing for him.
"You know, I don't mind cocky Eddie."
"Yeah? I thought I annoyed you."
"A little. But it kinda turns me on." You respond, rolling your hips into him.
"Oh fuck sweetheart," he roughly grips you, forcing you to do it again, "you drive me fuckin' crazy."
He's on your neck, kissing and licking at you almost tenderly.
"Eddie, please," you whisper, mind abandoning any clarity as he kisses you.
"Please? What do you need, sweetheart?"
How can you answer? What do you need?
"Eddie, I-I need you, please," you whisper into his ear, rocking against his hardening bulge.
He bites down on your neck, eliciting a gasp to spill from your lips.
"Tent." Is all he manages to say, and you stumble upwards on wobbly legs, to lead him to it.
Fumbling for the zip, you just about get inside it when you feel his hands on you gently pushing you forward. A small touch is all it takes and you're falling onto the air bed, knees bending as you collapse face forward.
He's on your back before you can think, firm arms caging you in from behind.
"You need me? Really?"
You nod, squirming underneath him, a small hand curling around his forearm.
"Dreamed about you saying that, fuck." He whispers, lips pressing to your shoulder, "turn around."
You can't find it in you to not comply. Wobbling the mattress, you twist to face him, engulfed in the intensity of his stare, illuminated by the fading light emanating from the fire.
"Say it again." It's soft, but ironclad in the centre.
"I need you Eddie."
"Fuck" He huffs, moving down your torso, pulling your t-shirt up so it kisses the edge of your breasts. He looks up at you with pleading eyes; a look that turns your insides to mush.
"Can you turn the light on? I need to see you."
He sounds so desperate, so in need that you waste no time in grabbing your camp light and switching it on, bathing you both in cool white light.
As he's pulling your top up, you assist and pull it over your head, flinging it to a corner.
"You are really beautiful." He says, drinking you in with his eyes, as a calloused hand strokes between the valley of your breasts. You slide under his confident touches, getting more anxious by the minute.
"Can I taste you?"
You nod, and he unbuttons your skirt, pulling your panties down with a roughness that makes you flinch. You're entirely exposed.
"I've wanted this, wanted you, for a long time."
You wriggle underneath him, and reply. "Didn't you get me like this last night?"
"This," he says, gesturing to your revealed flesh, "this is different."
You don't quite get it and want him to explain further, but his lips are on your nipples and all that comes out of you is a heady moan. A firm knee pushes your thighs apart and you bend to his will, allowing him to kiss down, and down, leaving hot pressured mouth trails to your stomach.
When his lips meet the tops of your thighs you cry out his name.
He understands, slipping his tongue between your folds and licking at your clit with pointed precision.
"Oh fuck!"
A chuckle emanates from his throat as he doubles his efforts, flicking and suckling at you in earnest. Thick fingers tease your entrance and one slides into your glistening opening, pumping slowly.
It shocks through your body, setting loose tendrils of pleasure so profound it's almost a religious experience. He prods another finger at you, sliding it next to the first and it burns, making you hiss.
Eddie mumbles platitudes into your pussy, telling you how good a job you're doing, how proud he is, how you're a good girl. His good girl.
The tension is unbelievable, clenching every muscle as your breath comes in short pants.
"That's it sweetheart, sing for me."
The fingers curl, stroking something incessantly inside you that rips a sultry groan from deep within your chest cavity, and without further warning your orgasm washes through. It collects and expands, a force of nature that flies out and collides like stars in the universe.
Your back falls to the air mattress, and that's the only signal you have that it ever left. You feel soaked in your own juices, thighs uncomfortably wet.
Eddie hovers over your face. You're not quite sure when he got there.
"That OK sweetheart?"
You don't reply, you can't. Your response can only be carnal, feeding into the biting, gnawing need that still refuses to lessen its grip on your core. Bringing shaking hands upward, you wind them into his hair and pull his face forcefully towards yours, tongue slipping in to taste your slick in his mouth, groaning at the tangy sweet flavour.
He collapses against you, full weight of his lithe body pressed into yours, but it's not enough. Pulling away and leaving less than an inch of space you voice your frustration.
"Eddie, please, I- I want you. I want you inside me, please."
Eddie shakes his head for a second, then deep brown eyes seek yours for any doubt, and come up empty.
"Are you sure sweetheart?"
The nod you reciprocate with is painfully fast, hurting the muscles of your neck. He looks uncertain, but discards his clothes, kneeling in front of you in his boxer shorts.
"I need you to be sure. I can't give it back."
You let your legs fall further apart, giving him the view of you open and ready for him.
"Please."
Underwear has never been discarded quicker. He has his cock in his hand, sliding on a condom from his crumpled jeans at record speed. A second later and he's towering over you, nose brushing yours and dick lined up to your sopping entrance.
His tip breaches you, so much thicker than his fingers, and you wince. You can tell he's trying to be careful, pushing into you slowly, watching for any signs you want to stop.
You're so full, and he just keeps going. A moment later and you let out a little startled cry as a sharp pain shoots from deep inside.
"You OK sweetheart?" He stops his movements, staring at your face with a worried expression.
"I'm fine, just, go all the way" you manage through gritted teeth.
He slips the last of it deep, deep inside as you yelp at the suddenness. Then, he's still, grabbing your hand and entwining your fingers with his over your head, his other arm holding him perfectly motionless above you.
"That's it, you're OK, so fuckin' tight, fuck," he says to you, kissing your cheek. It burns, the feel of him, but a fullness is beginning to overtake that ache.
"You know, I thought you were afraid of me in high school." He half laughs, kissing the tip of your nose. It's such a sweet gesture from the so-called frightening man that you giggle a little too.
"I was," you admit, staring into his deep eyes.
"Then, we come here and you look like you're gonna eat me alive. Then, you're all innocent, and now… fuck, I can't keep up."
You appreciate what he's doing, talking to you, distracting you from the pain. It helps; it's settled into a dull throb and your need from him is outranking it.
"Eddie, you can move."
With a peck to your lips he pulls out a little and thrusts back in, setting a slow and steady pace.
This is so much better than his hands, or his tongue. On every thrust he's massaging at something that makes you moan, again and again.
"You're doing real good sweetheart, my good fuckin' girl."
All of a sudden you feel it, all of it. His lean weight comforting over you, the squeeze of his fingers in yours, the throb of his member inside you, his words. It's all too much. Your eyes gloss over and a tear works its way down your temple.
"Oh shit, you want me to-" He starts as he slows down a little.
"Don't you fucking dare, please, please, I-I need-"
He grins at you; that self satisfied look that turns your legs to jelly.
"What do you need, sweetheart? Whatever you want, I'll give it to you."
"Harder Eddie, oh God!"
He snaps his hips into you with much more force; once, twice, three times and you scream his name, pussy clenching him hard, every muscle tense. As everything unravels you go limp, whimpering at the pulse that you can feel pounding in your core.
When your eyes finally decide to open, he's leaving kisses as light as a butterfly's wings on your cheek.
"Woah," is all you can say, between breathless giggles. Tears are falling but you don't care enough to wipe them away.
Eddie unlatches his hand from yours and does it himself.
"That was so hot. You need to do that again," he whispers, beginning to grind into you slowly.
"I nearly died Eddie, it might finish me off!"
He laughs back, but doesn't quit; hips still driving into you leisurely.
"What's life without a little risk?"
You stare up at him, biting your lip, a question on the tip of your tongue that you're too nervous to ask.
"What is it?" He asks, brow furrowed, as if you were about to ask him to stop.
"Can I… wait, don't worry."
He does stop then, to put his hand to your face and stroke you with his thumb.
"Hey hey hey, come on, what baby?"
You whisper it quietly, voice small and second guessing.
"Can I try, erm, being on top?"
You're surprised that Eddie's face didn't split in half from the sheer wideness of his grin.
"Holy shit, yes, please."
He winds his arms underneath your frame and flips you so fast your vision blurs, until he's underneath you. You sit up, his cock still buried within, and you gasp at the new angle.
"Eddie, Jesus Christ!"
Palms splayed on his chest, you control your breathing a little. This angle is devastating, pressing harshly against that place inside that has you throbbing around him.
Eddie chuckles darkly as his hands slide over the flesh of your thighs, rubbing back and forth, until they work their way to your hips and pull you up ever so slightly, only to drop you back down again.
"Just like that sweetheart, 'Kay?"
He tilts his head to one side, that mocking tone fuelling the embers of your desire. Rising up on shaky knees you pull off him and slide back down, trying to find some semblance of rhythm. Your clit grazes his pubic hair on one pass and you nearly lose it completely, the feeling sending a bolt of pure pleasure up your spine.
"Oh my God!"
"Yeah? That good?"
You hum and nod, words escaping you, now rolling your hips on each bounce to get that sensation over and over.
Eddie's talking now, watching how much you writhe and whine at his words.
"That's it sweetheart. Wanting to- oh fuck- ride me, on your first time. Oh yes, fuck, just like that- dirty, my dirty fuckin' girl."
"Eddie, oh God, can you, fuck, please-"
"What is it sweetheart? Anything, you can have anything."
His words embolden you, and before you can hesitate your hands are gripping one of his and leading it to your throat. You're not sure why, but you know deep in your core that you need it.
Eddie looks shocked by your moments but quickly recovers, fingers slotting around your throat, squeezing lightly at the sides.
Speeding up, feeling the pressure of his hand on your windpipe, you throw your body into each movement.
"Fuck Eddie, harder!"
He squeezes and you let go of everything, breath leaving you. All composure, all thought. It's just you and Eddie, and his hand, and his cock. Screaming aloud, you fold almost double, collapsing into him with a shocked, delicate whimper.
His fingers relinquish their firm grip, coming to rest on the back of your head in a comforting, tender hold.
"I was right, you are a freak."
Laughing aloud, you have just enough bones left in your neck to lift it ever so slightly. He looks surprised, sure, and really aroused, judging by his hooded gaze.
"Are you not… done?" You ask, as you feel his impossibly hard length still throbbing inside you.
"What can I say, I've got stamina."
That smug face is back, a flash of canines and confidence. You'd roll your eyes if it wasn't so sexy.
No time for a witty comeback though, as he holds you close to him and thrusts upwards with abandon. Colours swirl in your vision as you try to stay attached to reality, focusing on the feel of his skin, the pounding of his rhythm, and the light in his eyes.
"Fuck I'm close, I'm so fuckin' close. You're, oh shit, so- oh God, can't believe you're letting me do this."
Slack jawed and practically dribbling, you let him use you to chase his own release, trying to weakly meet his thrusts. A pulse deep inside is brought to your attention, and it's not yours. Looking at his face, you watch it awash with ecstasy as he holds you tightly and throbs his climax out.
His muscles melt, holding you still but so loosely that the lack of pressure surprises you, as if you were only aware of how tight his grip had been at this very moment.
The only sounds are the nightlife of insects around the tent, and panting, heaving breaths. Sliding off of him in an organic gesture, you curl up into his arms, finally feeling sated and at ease.
Lips are pressed into the top of your head, kissing you over your hair. No words are spoken; none need to be. For a shining moment, this is all you need. To be held, and cared for.
Minutes go by, and your eyelids begin to feel heavy. Before you drift off, Eddie breaks the spell cast over both of you.
"Was that OK princess?"
"That was incredible Eddie."
He kisses the top of your head again, then seems to remember himself.
"Fuck sweetheart, just, stay right there."
Clambering to his feet he pulls the condom off, tying it in a knot and discarding it into a corner to be thought of later. He's back then, spreading your legs.
'Eddie, you can't just-"
"I'm just looking after you sweetheart. You got some tissues or something?"
Furrowing your brows, you point to your wash bag near the foot of the sleeping bag. He paws through it wordlessly, and brings out some tissues and wet wipes.
"Sweetheart I'm so sorry."
"What's wrong?" You ask, panic riding your words.
"I've made you bleed." Eddie looks crushed, so upset at your prior pain, anguish etched into his face.
"It's OK Eddie, it's normal."
"You should have said. I'm so sorry."
You laugh a little, touched by his concern.
"I didn't know! It's alright, it doesn't hurt now."
Placated slightly by your answer, he cleans you both up as well as he can, before slipping into the sleeping bag with you.
A thousand questions perch on the edge of your tongue, but it's so warm, so cosy and right, that your body denies all words for a moment.
When you feel capable of speech you look up at him.
"Stamina, huh?"
He flushes, looking down at your smiling face.
"I may have tactically jerked off beforehand."
"When??" You giggle, fingers flirting over his exposed chest.
"When I went to get my guitar."
"Eddie, how did you know that-"
"OK, OK!" He grabs your hand, kissing your knuckles before hiding behind it, "I didn't know, not for sure. You just looked so good in that little two piece, I couldn't hold it in."
"Perv," you respond, but your eyes are soft.
"Yep."
Giggling, you slip into a calm, contented sleep in his arms.
********************
You wake up a little later than intended, no doubt exhausted from last night. The tent feels empty. Upon realising that Eddie's missing a dread settles in your stomach. Bile rises as you sling some clothes on. Maybe he's had his way with you and that's it.
Exiting the tent, you see he's just by the fire, trying to get it going again, a cigarette dangling from his pouting lips.
"Oh would you just- come on!" He says as he angrily flicks his lighter, trying to get the wood to catch.
You smile, relief washing over you, and walk over to help.
"I'm begging, come on- oh, sweetheart," he looks a little sheepish as he speaks to you, mumbling around his cigarette. "I was gonna make you coffee and bring it to you but the damn fire won't start."
You giggle, and rearrange the little pile, adding a few twists of paper to the base, and hold your hand out to him. He looks at you blankly for a second, then comes to his senses, placing the lighter in your palm.
With one stroke the papers alight, and starting to catch the rest of the twigs. The couple of logs won't take long to catch.
"Witchcraft."
"Nope, just girl scouts."
"You can go back in the tent if you want, I'll make you a drink."
"Eddie?"
"Huh?" He turns to you, pot of water in his hand.
"Good morning." You smile shyly at him. He grins, placing the pot on the ground and stubbing out his cigarette. Strong arms slot their way around your waist and you fling your arms around his neck, grinning stupidly at each other.
"Good morning. Good night?" It's framed as a question, and you know what he's getting at.
"Great night."
Smiling wider, he presses a kiss to your forehead. Puckering your lips to ask for a proper kiss, you hear a very loud cough.
"Good morning love birds." Robin wiggles her eyebrows at you both. You move to break away from Eddie, but he steals a kiss anyway, and pulls you close to his side, arm firmly around you.
"Is Steve alive?" He asks, looking at Robin.
"Well, he got up in the night to throw up, just glad he didn't do it in the tent. He's dead to the world right now. He's been singing in his sleep you know. Nearly suffocated him with a pillow."
You both laugh at that, and then hear a loud groan from the tent.
Eddie glances at you with mischief and shouts out towards Steve's tent.
"Harrington! Wanna sing for us, big guy?"
"Urgh." Is the only reply. Robin rolls her eyes and busies herself with the fire.
After a while, the coffees are ready; you all attempt to rouse Steve but he's gone back to sleep, groaning whenever you call out to him.
Then, it's just the sad business of taking down your tent. There's a special kind of melancholy reserved for such an occasion; pretty soon there's no sign at all that it was ever there. Afraid that your memories, your feelings, about last night would fade too, you walk over to Eddie who is perched on a stump fitting the last of his things in a bag.
"Eddie?"
"Yeah sweetheart?" He asks, still fumbling with his bag.
Do you still like me? Do you want to see me after this? Was this all a dream?
"Can I get a ride back with you? Steve and Robin are gonna be a while."
You gesture over to where Steve had finally emerged, whining and packing his stuff, tent still upright.
"Sure, anything you need." He flashes a tight lipped smile and reaches to grasp your hand briefly.
The ride back to town with him is chatty, even if it's only surface level stuff. Your rendition of White Rabbit had him fumbling around the glove compartment and pulling out a few older classic rock tapes that you happily listened to; music was a big part of your life, at least you both had that in common. His eyes light up whenever you talk about a band or song that he likes too, gesturing so emphatically with his hand you have to remind him to look at the road.
Pretty soon you're pulling up to a crossroads, except Eddie pulls over instead.
"What's wrong?"
He huffs, smiling at you sadly.
"If I keep driving forward I've got to say goodbye to you, take you home," he admits. Your heart flutters at the admission.
"Where do you live, Eddie?" He looks confused, but points to the left turning.
"Eddie, turn left."
"Really?"
"Really. I was supposed to stay at Robin's tonight anyway."
His grin is downright manic as he pulls back on the road, making short work of the drive to his trailer.
He bundles you out of the van and opens the trailer door, both of your bags heaved over one of his shoulders.
The sight of an older gentleman startles you as he potters around the kitchen area.
"Hey! This is Wayne, my Uncle. Wayne, this is my girlfriend."
Your eyes widen as he gives your name to his uncle and you shake hands with him, the roughest hand you think you've ever touched, but the softest grip.
"Pleasure to meet you, miss. I'm heading out today, so I'll see you two later I'm guessing."
He waves and smiles fondly at the pair of you, and leaves.
"Sorry, thought he would've left already." He explains, pulling you both to the back of the trailer and into what you assume is his room.
Allowing yourself to be led, still feeling shell shocked, you perch on the edge of his bed as he dumps the bags on the floor.
Eddie's talking, saying how he wishes he tidied before he left, how the trailer's not much but it's home, and his uncle…
"Eddie, wait."
He stops mid flow to look at you.
"Girlfriend?"
"Well yeah? I mean, if you want to. I didn't ask, did I?" He flushes pink, hand reaching up to nibble at his thumb.
"I mean, you don't know me, really." You shrink, almost folding in on yourself.
"Hey," he sits down next to you, stroking your jaw with his finger, "I know enough. And I let you touch my guitar. We're practically married now."
Lips press softly to yours, a delicate touch that has all tension flying from your body in a rush.
"Eddie…" You whisper, giving him a butterfly kiss with the tip of your nose.
"Hmm?"
"You smell really bad."
He laughs and grabs you around the waist, pulling you down sharply to lay on the bed.
"So do you."
"A point well made." A response, but you don't move, snuggling deeper into his neck.
"So, I've got an idea. Let's have showers, get into some comfy stuff, and cuddle. Probably got a movie or two we can watch?"
The normalcy of the situation is surprising, but most welcome.
Smiling wickedly, you nip at his neck and whisper in his ear.
"One condition: we shower together."
He groans loudly, hands stroking at any skin he can reach.
"Fuuuck, sweetheart, I've created a monster."
You laugh, and hold him tightly. Eddie Munson isn't so scary, after all.
Taglist (just some people I thought might like this, hope you don't mind!)
im happy that loki has been around more than 10 years in the mcu now, but sometimes i miss 2012 fics where loki used to fall in love with an avenger reader because he was sent back to midgard with thor for his punishment, and tony would throw these amazing parties, and nat was readers best friend lol
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader (yhhmsgm universe, established relationship)
Summary: Bucky comes home late one night after a mission. You're already asleep, but he can't wait any longer— he needs you now.
WARNINGS: Minors DNI. Explicit sexual content. Horny Bucky Barnes. Somnophilia (pre-negotiated, consensual), PIV sex
Word Count: 1.9k
A/N: Surprise! It's 2AM, and hands!Bucky just can't wait. Very on brand of him tbh.
northbound & reaching — coming soon
There you are. Bucky exhales deeply, a week’s worth of tension lifting from his shoulders at the sight of your hair peeking out over the top of the comforter. The bedroom is barely illuminated by the glow of the TV screen, silent reruns flickering light against the wall and across the you-shaped lump on the bed. He steps over the threshold quietly and kicks off his boots, his heart pounding as a different type of tension builds in him.
Bucky closes his eyes and takes another deep breath. He’d only been gone for a week, he tries to remind himself. Only a week, and considering exactly how many weeks he’s suffered through in his overextended life, the time away should feel like a drop in the bucket. He shouldn’t even notice it. But Bucky’s got it bad, and any hour spent away from you feels like years.
He swears it’s been centuries since he last felt your touch.
As Bucky pads silently to your bedside, his cock perks up inside his tac suit, swelling with interest already. This isn't the first time he’s come home to you late at night, and it knows the routine. He reaches down and rubs a tired hand over his growing bulge as he walks, teasing himself through the thick fabric.
The alarm clock on your bedside table reads some unholy hour, and Bucky winces internally. You deserve a good night’s sleep, but he can’t wait. You don’t want him to wait. Still, he tries not to wake you, staying as quiet as possible as he eases the zipper down and peels the suit from his aching body. By the time he’s stripped down to his boxer briefs he’s at full mast, his erection straining against the black cotton while he continues to palm over it. It’s the first time he’s allowed himself to play with it all week, and his breath catches when he feels the wet patch of precum already forming near his tip.
Keeping his eyes on your sleeping form, he reaches down with his free hand to fumble with the nightstand drawer, searching for that bottle of slick you kept for occasions like this. His fingers find the bottle immediately, which makes him pause— because it shouldn’t be that easy. He never finds the bottle on the first try, always has to suffer through the suspense of digging around in the drawer while his dick throbs impatiently. It’s always some cruel cosmic joke, like he’s being edged by fate. Because invariably the hornier he is, the longer it takes him to find what he needs.
But not tonight.
Bucky’s mind is staticky with the mixture of lust and exhaustion, so he stares dumbly at the bottle of lube in his hand for a few moments before he’s able to figure out what’s different. Why the drawer felt so empty, why he was able to grab what he needed on the first try despite how he kept one hand in his boxers, lazily pulling at his cock the entire time.
When his dial-up brain finally makes the connection, a surge of heat spreads like wildfire through his core. “Fuck,” he mumbles to himself, squeezing his shaft tightly as another surge of precum soaks into his boxers.
Your vibrator is missing from the drawer.
He almost can’t believe it, but really, he should know better by now; you have a knack for making his dreams come true before he even blinks the sleep from his eyes and wakes enough to tell you about them. Tonight is no different— you knew he would be home late, and you’re all too familiar with how he gets when he’s been away. Horny and agitated, you told him once, laughing, and Bucky didn’t even try to argue because it’s the truth.
Of course you know what he needs tonight. You always know.
He rubs a hand down his face, willing himself to focus on the sting of a week’s worth of stubble scraping against his palm. Tries to pull himself together and fails, almost tripping over his own feet as he hurriedly kicks his boxers off onto the floor. Bucky exhales a shaky breath and sets the bottle of lube back on the nightstand— he won’t need it tonight.
When he peels the comforter back, he takes a moment to drink in how peaceful you look, lying on your stomach and fully naked beneath the sheets. Your vibrator lies discarded beside your bare hip, as if you barely had time to shut it off before being swept away by sleep. Bucky swallows around the sudden gravel in his throat and moves the toy aside to climb into bed next to you, trying not to jostle the mattress too much.
He doesn’t want to wake you; you deserve to sleep.
His gaze moves from your bare hip to the curve of your ass, the dimple at the small of your back. He can’t help but give his cock another couple of tugs, rubbing his thumb over the slick bead of precum that gathered at the tip. So fucking leaky, like he always is when he’s gone too long without you. At least it’s useful; he spreads it down the length of his shaft, allowing himself a few quick strokes as he carefully positions himself on his knees behind you.
He’s lying to himself, he knows; this quiet, careful dance isn’t because he wants you to get your full eight hours. There’s something about you allowing him to use you for his own pleasure, even when you’re asleep— especially because you prepare for it, encourage it— that has him feeling like he’s going to blow his load right onto your lower back.
He forces himself to switch the hand he’s using to jerk off. The chill of the vibranium on his heated flesh hardly registers, does nothing to cool him down as he cautiously presses his right hand to the swell of your ass. You shift a little, but your breaths remain slow and deep, so he grows a bit more bold— he moves his hand over your soft skin, caressing your curves. Tries not to lose control and squeeze you too hard, his jaw tensing with restraint.
Bucky’s eyes drift lower, his attention catching on the pillow stuffed beneath your hips, propping you up. His own hips twitch forward automatically, and he bites his lip to muffle a groan. Nothing about this evening was an accident; you made sure you’d be ready for him, even in your sleep. He looks over at the abandoned vibrator again and swallows roughly. How many times did you come that evening, getting ready for him? How many times did you flutter and clench around nothing, grinding your hips down against the pillow with the vibrator pressed to your sweet clit?
Bucky’s right hand shakes as he trails his fingers lower and lower. One fingertip sweeps between your folds, testing, and a broken groan escapes from deep in his gut without his control. Because fuck— you’re dripping. He doesn’t hesitate, can’t hesitate, but remains gentle when he slips his middle finger into your warmth. You’re so wet that there’s little resistance despite the way your pussy grips down tightly, and when he pulls back, his finger emerges glistening and coated in your juices.
“Good girl,” he mumbles, any self-restraint he once had now a distant memory. He braces one hand on the mattress beside you as he lowers himself down over your back, gripping the base of his cock to line it up. The swollen tip nudges at your entrance, and he swipes it up and back down just once to slick himself up before slowly pushing in.
His breath catches in his throat, and he can’t stop it then— he lets out a low grumble of a moan, his abs clenching as he sinks halfway in. You’re so goddamn tight, so warm around him, and Bucky’s balls begin to pull up toward his body almost as soon as he’s inside you.
You finally startle awake, your muscles tensing, and his hips pause. “S’just me,” he grunts, and when you process his familiar rasp of a voice you melt against the sheets again with a content sigh. “Just me, baby, hi,” he exhales. He leans in to press his lips against the back of your neck, his hips reflexively jolting forward, pushing deeper into you before he regains control over himself.
You mumble something against your pillow— not words, but a soft, happy little noise, and Bucky understands. “Missed you too, baby,” he pants out as he lowers his upper body to rest fully over you, his face nuzzling into the crook of your shoulder. “So much. Fuck, missed you so much.”
Now that he finally has you in his arms, Bucky can’t bear to let you go. So he stays deep inside you as he thrusts, his hips grinding slowly but powerfully as he wraps his arms around you and plants kisses along your upper back. Breathing in your scent, committing every sensation to memory.
But just as he’s working up a languid rhythm, an involuntary grunt escapes his throat. His eyes widen, and his hips jolt forward before he’s able to stop them.
This isn’t going to last.
He thought you were tight when he first slipped into you— so warm, wrapped around him perfectly, there was no way you could possibly feel any better. But he suddenly realizes he was very, very mistaken. Now that you’re semi-awake, now that you can feel him thrusting and grinding, it’s like you need it just as bad as he does. Your core clenches around his cock as you push your hips back, urging him deeper and making his breath hitch.
“I know, baby,” he hurries to bite out. “You don’t— don’t have to— fuck, don’t do that.”
Bucky can feel his pulse in his dick, can feel the heat growing and spreading inside him. He stops moving, hoping for just a moment to cool down, but you’re relentless. Rocking back against him, rolling your hips slowly, your back arching despite never lifting your head from the pillow.
Dream maker. Wish come true. Giving him exactly what he needs, before he knows he needs it.
“Baby, I can’t take it,” he almost whines, his voice softer as it breaks. You don’t even acknowledge him, and he has no choice but to surrender.
He falls forward, muffles his shout against your skin. Muscles tense and trembling as he gives a few sharp, quick thrusts and bursts into a kaleidoscope of pleasure. He’d be embarrassed of the sounds he’s making, if he had any idea he was making them.
You whimper into the pillow because you can feel it, he knows you can— knows you love when his cock pulses and throbs inside you. He pumps spurt after spurt of liquid heat into you, his hips jolting and twitching unevenly. After a week with no release Bucky feels like his orgasm draws out forever, and it’s not like he’s in a hurry for it to end, anyway. He lets you milk him for all he’s worth, pulling every last drop of euphoria from his tired bones.
It doesn’t take long for him to pass out on top of you. There’s a mess, of course, flooding you and soaking the sheets beneath… but that’s a problem for the morning. His exhaustion catches up to him, bowls him over, but only because he lets it— he can sleep soundly now, with you in his arms.
you know i don't mean it (joel miller x reader) 18+
welcome to my 300 follower celebration! \o/
i polled my followers on which character they'd most like to see in some new smut and joel won (not surprised). this was supposed to be a drabble but ended up getting a bit longer than i anticipated, hope you enjoy!
summary: you and joel get off together. that's pretty much it. you also have some unresolved feelings for him and he's being closed off.
rating: 18+ explicit (mdni)
warnings: smut, age gap (reader is mid 20s, joel is mid 50s), praise kink (the term 'good girl' is used maybe 432534 times), dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics (but make it soft), mutual masturbation, come-play, come-eating, this is filthy
word count: about 2.5k | ao3 link
"This is the last time," he mutters under his breath, belt buckle jangling as he lays down across from you, "We can't keep doin' this."
"Yeah, yeah," your hand is already buried in your panties, index finger lightly rotating against your clit, "That's what you said last week too."
He grunts and you watch as he slips his hand inside his jeans and palms himself, squaring his shoulders and trying to relax. He pretends he's doing this for your benefit, like its you who needs help getting off, as if he's not a middle aged man who hasn't been touched by a woman in years. And it's not like you haven't offered, you've genuinely tried to give yourself to him more than a few times, but it's simply a line he won't cross.
Other lines, however, are much easier to cross. It had started out relatively innocent, something that had happened completely by chance, or at least you both led yourselves to believe it was. You'd both had the same idea one night and had ended up getting off together in the same room, you in the chair beside the fireplace of the abandoned ski lodge you'd both been posted in, him on the couch.
"Are you -" he'd gasped into the darkness when he'd heard the wet sound of your fingers a few feet away, plunging in and out of yourself at a steady rhythm.
"Like you're not," you'd hissed back, "I'm not deaf."
"Thought you were sleepin'," he'd muttered, hand stilling on his cock where seconds ago he'd been stroking like his life depended on it.
"And that makes it less weird?"
He'd groaned, releasing himself and sitting up to squint at you in the darkness, "So what are you gonna do about it?"
You glared at him, not bothering to remove your hand from your underwear as you continued to finger yourself, breathing deeply, "I'm not gonna do anything about it, Joel. I'm gonna keep going. And you can stay here or you can go, doesn't matter to me."
After a few seconds of silence, he'd flopped himself back down on the couch and reached for himself again, fucking into his fist, "No talking," he said through his teeth, "Let's just do it and forget it even happened, deal?"
"Deal," you'd replied, and roughly added a third finger as you watched the dark silhouette of him jacking himself off barely six feet away from you.
One night turned into two, turned into five, and now ten. It wasn't every night, only when you were on patrol together. You'd privately asked Tommy to make sure that Joel was your patrol partner as often as possible, because you felt "safer" with him... you're not sure if he'd really believed you.
You're back in the ski lodge again tonight, both of you situated on the couch in your usual positions, on opposite ends and facing each other. It's ridiculous how quickly it's taken you both to get used to these sessions, the casual feeling of it making it even hotter somehow.
"How many fingers are you using this time?" Joel murmurs, eyeing you where you're touching yourself, unable to fully see what he'd like to.
"Up to you," you breathe, still prodding your clit, "How many do you want me to use?"
"Three," he replies, and you watch as he pulls his cock free from the confines of his jeans, jutting large and solid against his stomach, "Real slow, then real fast."
You nod, lifting your hips up to pull your panties free and expose yourself to him, legs wide.
"Stick to my rhythm," he tells you, watching as you trail your middle finger through your folds, "If I stop, you stop. If I tell you to stop-"
"I stop," you answer for him, throwing him a smug smile, "Same rules as always."
He stares at you without speaking, just waiting. You get the hint and begin to slide your finger inside slowly, making eye contact with him under your lashes and smiling languidly. He fists himself just as slow, looking down at your finger and licking his lips.
"Slow enough for you?" you whisper, adding a second and grinning when his eyes darken, "Should I go a bit faster?"
"Not yet," he whispers, thumbing the head of his cock and fucking into his hand at the same pace as your finger, "Keep it nice and slow for me 'til I say so."
You obey, fucking yourself with your middle and ring finger at the slowest pace you can muster. No matter how annoying his orders are you always do as you're told, not because you're afraid of any sort of consequence, but because you like seeing him enjoy himself, seeing him take control. You've only known him for about six months but you've known for a while that he's been lacking any sort of control in his life for a long time; you're glad to be the one who can give it to him.
"Add your third," he whispers and you oblige, slipping your index inside yourself alongside the others, "Good girl," he breathes, "Such a good girl for me, aren't you?"
You nod, your smugness immediately starting to fade. When he talks to you like this, praises you, it's impossible to keep your hard exterior up for much longer, feeling yourself submit to him. In any other circumstance you love to challenge him, to argue, but in these moments it's the last thing on your mind. You do as you're told, and that's the end of it. He needs control, you need submission.
"Tell me," he whispers.
"I'm your good girl," you breathe, shivering and continuing to shove your fingers in and out at his pace.
He smirks, "Yeah you are."
You continue to fuck yourself at his painfully slow pace, watching him fist his cock at the same speed. He likes to tease you, to build you up until you're begging for it. You thumb your clit and start to whimper, legs trembling.
"Okay, faster now," he tells you, voice low and sultry, "Not too fast, though. Watch me," he tugs at his cock at a bit quicker of a pace, still much too slow for you but you can't do much else but obey him, mirroring him with the thrust of your fingers, "That's it, like that."
After several more thrusts he suddenly stops stroking himself, stilling in his palm. You groan, halting your movements, following the rules.
"How is it that you follow orders so God damn well when you've got your panties around your ankles?" he asks, voice rough, "Yet when we're actually patrollin' you don't listen to a word I say?"
"I'm not your good girl when we're patrolling," you reply with a teasing smile, "But I could be, you know."
He rolls his eyes, "Enough, it's not happening," he nods to your hand, still motionless at your core, "Play with your clit for a second, give me a chance to breathe."
There it is, the line he won't cross. You've already told him that you're willing to give yourself completely over to him, be exactly who he needs, but no matter how many times you try he just won't budge. It's disappointing, truly, because you really do like him. Sure, he's a bit of an ass, plus he's about thirty years older than you, but you've seen the side of him he doesn't show to others. Maybe only hints, but you've seen it. And you care about him.
"I don't do this with anyone else, you know," you whisper, pressing your index finger against your clit and rubbing small circles into it, "You're the only one I'd let treat me the way you do."
He looks at you curiously, raising an eyebrow, "I treat you good, don't I?"
You nod, whimpering a bit as you rub yourself harder, "You do, but you're the only one I'd ever submit to like this, you know that, right?"
He hums, brushes the wide head of his cock with the tip of his thumb, "I know, baby. But it feels so good, doesn't it? You like being my good girl, don't you?"
You bite down on your lip, core aching as your fingers lay still against your folds, save for the index that continues to furiously stimulate your clit, "I do," you whisper, cheeks warming, "I fucking love it."
"There you go," he murmurs softly, then begins to move his fist again, "Use your fingers again, baby, get your pussy all full for me."
You don't need telling twice, your three fingers plunging deep inside yourself without any hesitation. You whimper when your fingertips brush against your favorite spot, so close yet so far. You eye Joel's cock and try to imagine what it would feel like for it to really be inside you, the fat tip of it pounding relentlessly against the deepest parts of your cunt, his girth stretching you out so much your whole body would be shaking. You feel your mouth drop open involuntarily, brow furrowing.
He follows your gaze and frowns at you, pumping himself a bit faster, "You can't have it," he whispers, like he can read your mind, "I know you want it, pretty girl, but you can't. I'm sorry."
"Why?" you mewl, sounding absolutely pathetic as you keep fucking yourself, "I want it so bad, Joel."
"I know you do," he closes his eyes and leans his head back, "Don't ask me why, you just can't."
You'd pout, tease him a little, but he's not looking at you anymore and it physically makes you ache, the way he avoids any allusion to actual sex, an actual relationship. You've asked him so many times and it's always the same answer, never a real reason. You wish you knew why, wish you knew if there was anything at all you could do to make him open up to you.
Instead you mirror his position, tilting your head back against the arm of the sofa and fucking up into yourself, listening to his labored breathing and the slap of skin whenever his fist hits his belly.
"Fast as you can now, baby," he mutters gruffly, close to the edge, "Need you to come for me, need you to be good."
"I'm always good for you, aren't I?" you whimper, opening your eyes to peer at him again, "I always listen, I never break your rules."
"That's right."
"So why can't you fuck me?" you sit up suddenly, yanking your fingers out of yourself and looking at him angrily. He sits up just as quickly, eyes narrowing as he releases his cock and stares at you, "I'm serious, Joel. I want an actual answer."
"You just broke a rule," he mutters and you sigh exasperatedly.
"I'm sorry for breaking the rules," you genuinely mean it; you know how important this control is for him, but you can't help it, "I'll submit again if you just tell me why you won't fuck me. Do you...do you not want me? Is that it? 'Cause I can accept that, I just want to hear you say it. I'm sick of not knowing."
He stares at you incredulously, hand coming up to squeeze the space between his brow and nose, "Jesus, of course I want you, but it's not that simple."
"Yes it-"
"It's not," he interrupts you, shaking his head, "I can't...this isn't..." he exhales deeply, "This isn't the time for this conversation, okay?" You hear raw emotion in his voice, buried deep but still present. Fuck, you didn't mean to make him feel bad.
"...Okay," you finally whisper, "I'm sorry."
"S'okay," he runs a hand through his hair, "Look, we can stop-"
"No," you lean back and open your legs wide again, putting yourself on display for him, "No, I wanna be your good girl again, please let me."
"We don't-"
"Joel," you whimper, slipping your fingers back inside, "Let me be your good girl."
His hard expression fades, eyes softening as he peers at you, watching you fuck himself for him.
"It's all yours, even if you won't touch me," you whisper, using your other hand to pull yourself open for him, showing him how full you are, feeling your orgasm start to build in your tummy, "It's yours," you repeat, whimpering.
He nods, stroking himself again hard and fast, brow furrowing in pleasure as he keeps his eyes trained on you, "That's right," he murmurs, "It's mine. You're mine."
You close your eyes tight, "I'm gonna come."
"Go ahead, pretty girl," you hear him groan, the snap of his wrist making you completely come undone, "Squeeze around those fingers, pretend they're mine, okay? You can do that, you can pretend."
You shudder at his words and feel your orgasm overtake you, the image of Joel's thick fingers pounding into you enough to send you over the edge. You moan loudly, crying out his name and tossing your head back as you come.
"Good girl," he groans, voice strangled, "Such a good fucking girl for me."
You close your eyes as you ride out the waves of your release, fingers still pumping gently inside of you until it's too much and you pull them out. Sighing contentedly, you open your eyes again and watch Joel relentlessly fuck into his fist, belt buckle still jangling against the couch as he gasps. You want nothing more than to reach forward and take him in your own hand, help him ride out his own release, but you don't. Because those are the rules.
Instead you just watch him, smile at him as he shuts his eyes tight and groans deeply, coming into his fist. You watch the thick white liquid cover the sides of his fingers and you involuntarily salivate, jaw going slack.
"Fuck," you breathe, "Wish I could taste you."
He groans again, hand stilling as he breathes heavily and starts to come down, eyes closed. You sit quietly, panties still hanging off one of your ankles. You'd usually already be putting your clothes back on at this point, but something tells you to stay still, don't move, he's gonna do something different.
He swallows and looks up at you, stares at you for a few moments. You're unsure whether the regular Joel is about to come back, tell you it's time to go back on patrol, grab your gun and be quiet. Or is this still your Joel, the one who tells you you're pretty and good, makes you feel less alone in this shitty world.
"Here," he says, shaking his head and bringing his come-coated fingers up to your mouth, "If you wanna taste, you have five seconds."
Your mouth pops open in surprise, hesitating only for a second before you lean forward and wrap your lips around his fingers, feeling the salty taste of him flood your mouth. Your cunt begins to throb again, your eyes closing as you suck and lick and take everything he's giving you. When you open your eyes again he's still looking at you, but his expression is soft, tender.
To all the fic writers out there that are not currently writing. Either it's because of RL, health, writer's block or something has happened that have disheartened you. Thank you for what you've written, and don't ever feel pressured or stressed - fanfic should be something good for all of us; both reader and writer. You're more important than what you do, but thank you for what you've done!
