Hello Love

19

[fault-in-our-chaos]

Pasta, sex, wine, sunsets.

I'm a simple person.

[loveshotzz]

The Steve Harrington Summer Time Spectacular (Leighanne’s version)

steve harrington x fem!reader one shot

summary: You and Steve have been tip toeing around the inevitable for months now, and it’s starting to feel impossible to fight off anymore.

wc: 3.8k

warnings: 18+, coworkers to friends to lovers, season four family video steve, big dick steve, semi public just the tip smut, unprotected, dry humping, fingering fem!receiving, crop top steve!!

authors note: this is my submission for @jamdoughnutmagician fun Summer Steve Spectacular. It started off as something else and morphed into this. I hope you enjoy :) you can thank @thinkingth0ts for the crop top idea, so that’s her fault.

The mid July sunset burns orange behind the trees that shroud the Harrington’s back yard, reflecting gold along the still water of the pool. Puddles of chlorine fill in the grooves of white cement that surrounds it, dark patches from bare feet turning it a light grey. Your wet thighs stick together on the cushioned seat of the metal pool chair underneath you, the cover up you’d slipped on over your damp suit landing shorter than it looked on the rack.

Nerves fizzle and pop like sparklers in your chest waiting for Steve to come back outside, the subtle shift between the two of you the past few weeks becoming palpable. It had started to build months ago on your first day at Family video, bubbling at the surface now with nowhere else to go despite how much you fought against it. The line between banter and flirting getting muddled with every drive home after work that turned into talking about everything and nothing at the same time in your driveway. Hazel eyes always staring at your mouth a little too long until you disappeared through your front door just like the stars in the purple early morning sky.

The cracks had started to become visible in the mental dam you’d built to fight off the inevitable. Watching them grow deeper by the day, threatening to crumble the wall as water seeps out of the jagged edges. It had been an hour since everyone had left all smiles, sunburnt and happy. And an hour after Steve’s eyes lingered on yours hopeful and dark when Nancy offered you a ride home with the others. A silent exchange setting off the kind of internal battle that tugged your bottom lip harshly between your teeth. Declining her against your best judgement under the guise of helping him clean up, he even smoothed the excuse out by chiming in with his own offer to drop you off later.

Now you were alone together without the bubble of work and friends, or the nagging need to get inside. There were no time constraints, no obstacles. It scares you and exhilarates you at the same time. The sliding glass door catches your attention and the butterflies that burrow in your stomach too as Steve finally slips back outside.

“Hey, this uh, I have a weird question.” His warm honey-like voice breaks through the silence of the evening settling around you with a concerned furrow of his eyebrows wrinkling his forehead.

“What is —“ your words get off along with your train of thought as your eyes land on the white sleeveless shirt that lands in the middle of his thick happy trail.

His freshly tanned skin practically glows against the bright cotton, dark chest hair peeking out of the lingering wet patches that turn translucent. The cherry red swim trunks he’s worn all day still cling to parts of his thighs, and it takes every ounce of will power to clear the tight ball of want in your throat.

”What - what is it?”

He sighs loudly, irritation exhaling from his lungs as he cards a big hand through his dark thick highlighted hair.

“Robin said she saw a bald spot on her way out, and I’ve just spent the last 15 minutes in the bathroom trying to find it.” He scratches the back of his neck, cheeks blooming pink, seemingly oblivious to the hungry way your body hums.

The motion pulls the already short bottom hem of his shirt up, revealing more dark coarse hair and a collection of freckles and moles you’d never seen before. It makes you wonder how many more there are, the discovery bringing your thighs together in a tight squeeze.

”…A bald spot?” You snort, trying to hold in your laugh when he shoots a glare in your direction.

”It’s not funny, I’m too young for this. I’ve barely hit my prime!” He huffs in clear distress pulling out the two seater chair across from you. Flopping down on the hard navy cushions, he snatches one of the last pieces of watermelon from the bowl on the glass table.

”I’m still waiting for the question part of this.” You tease, enjoying the way he squirms, popping the fruit into his mouth avoiding your gaze. It’s impossible not to notice the way the sweet juice coats his full pink lips or the wide spread of his legs.

“I can’t believe I’m asking this, but, will you just — will you check for me?”

The thought of your hands in Steve’s hair sets off another round of firecrackers in your blood, and now it’s your turn to squirm.

”You want me to check for a non-existent bald spot?”

There’s no fight to hide your giggle this time desperately trying to ignore the growing heat in your cheeks.

”Why would she lie to me about that?” He argues, his hand searching the back of his head again.

”Because it’s Robin.” You dead pan like it’s obvious, because it should be obvious.

”Will you just come check, please?” Steve practically whines, exasperated. “If you’re right I’ll give you permission to black mail me for life.”

“Fine.” You huff with fake annoyance, rolling your eyes without much bite since it’s accompanied by a soft smile curving up the edges of your lips.

“Thank you, you don’t understand. This is a recurring nightmare of mine.” He sighs, freckled shoulders relaxing as he spreads his hairy legs even more to make room for you, the crimson fabric straining against them.

“A bit dramatic, don’t you think, Harrington?” You tease, trying to drown out the loud thumping of your heart as you push yourself up.

His eyes trace along the short hem of your sheer cover up as you make your way towards him. They linger where the damp material of your suit hugs your hips before making a path up to your chest, darkening like the sky catching the way your nipples pebble underneath their attention. Steve’s jaw tightens, throat bobbing as he finally meets your gaze from under his lashes when you stop just short of the space between his legs.

This time, your heart stops completely.

“My hair is something to be dramatic about.” He scoffs, leaning forward with a devilish flash of his teeth.

A small gasp escapes from between your lips feeling his long fingers curve around the back of your thighs, hands spreading wide gripping the soft fat of them.

“Need you a little bit closer, though, there’s no way you’ll find it from there.”

He wastes no time tugging you to him, closing the small space with ease, like he’s done this a million times before. For the first time, Steve’s reputation has jealousy roiling in your gut. You say his name with a breathless laugh which earns you a lopsided grin, hands finding a new home on the tops of his shoulders. He squeezes at the soft dough of your thighs in response, the pad of his thumb swiping dangerously close to the curve of your ass.

“Where am I looking?” You smirk, trying to give off a semblance of self control but the crack in your voice gives you away when his thumb catches the material of your suit this time.

”She wasn’t very specific, so I think you’ll need a better angle.” He hums, licking his pink lips with eyes that wander your body like they're overwhelmed, unsure of where to look first.

”A bett —“

You yelp when he pulls you onto his lap in one quick motion, your knees landing on the scratchy chair cushion bracketing either side of his hips.

”This is starting to feel an awful lot like a ploy, Steve.” The accusation comes out around a breathless giggle, back bowing on its own as both his hands spread wide wandering up your spine.

“Not a ploy, I’m just an opportunist.” He murmurs against your sternum, the tip of his sharp nose a ghost. Inhaling the chlorine and sunscreen still lingering on your skin, he squeezes at your sides like he wants to drown in it. You’re not sure you’ve ever felt this wanted.

Your fingers twist the cotton of his shirt, as you bite back the moan that tries to escape, hips hovering dangerously low above his lap, not giving in quite yet.

“Well, are you going to let me do my job?” You try to tease, but the needy way your body responds to him nudging the bottom swell of your right breast with his nose takes all the bite from it. “I thought this was urgent.”

”Mmm, you’re right.” He huffs, nipping at the sensitive skin just above your ribs through your cover up. “I’m sorry honey, I get distracted easily.”

Honey sends goosebumps pebbling against your hot skin, with a jolt of matching heat to your core. You try your best to seem unphased when he pulls away, but you aren’t sure what’s worse, his hungry touch or his full attention. Steve’s gaze flicks down to where you hover above his lap, a cocky smirk playing on his lips as his hands find their way back to your hips giving them a squeeze,

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” You laugh, biting the inside of your cheek. Trailing your fingers up his neck, you let them slide into the still damp hair at the nape of it, giving it a gentle tug bringing his eyes back to yours. “Now let me take a look.”

You don’t miss the way they glaze over, the amber inside of them melting into black. Or the way his body shifts underneath you searching for the kind of more that’s thickened the air so much the past few days it’s suffocated you both into this position.

”She made a gesture to the back of my head.” He finally gives, clearing his throat, trying to wrangle the little self control he has left.

“Hmm…” You murmur, letting your fingers dig into the thickness of the former king of Hawkins claim to fame. Something girls a few years ago would’ve fought you for.

A deep groan rumbles from his chest when you scratch lightly at his scalp, relishing in the silk softness of it. Steve leans his head forward, burying his face in the crook of your neck while you search the thickest part at the crown, letting the blond highlights float between your fingers.

“Jesus, why does that feel so good?” He almost whimpers, hot breath fanning against your collar bone.

”Again, this feels like a ploy.” You giggle, quickly realizing that your assumption about Robin was right. But you refuse to shut down the self indulgent part of your brain, continuing to play with his hair anyway.

He shakes his head, taking another deep breath inhaling the sun still lingering on your skin despite the night fully blanketing whatever light was left of the day. Crickets chirp loudly in the distance, mixing with the heavy breaths filled with anticipation of whatever was about to happen next.

”Find anything?”

His voice comes out low next to your ear, the tip of his nose nudging the sensitive spot behind it making your fingers falter for a moment, feeling his knowing smile spread wide across your skin.

“Yep, and it’s big too.”

“Wait — seriously?!”

Steve grips your hips, pulling back quickly with the kind of horrified look on his face that makes it impossible to keep up the ruse. It quickly melts into annoyance at the fit of giggles that bubble out of you because of it.

”Ha, ha, ha. Really funny. Hilarious, actually.” He grumbles, red dusting his cheeks with a roll of his eyes.

“I told you Stevie, you’re an easy target.” You tease in a condescendingly sweet voice, patting his chest with open palms.

“Easy, huh?” He arches a brow, something mischievous dancing in his eyes that has your teeth digging into the fat of your bottom lip.

“Mmhmm.” You hum, leaning forward nose brushing with his, letting your hands slide up his chest to his broad shoulders. “Really easy.”

The smug flash of white teeth you get in response has your body buzzing, that blurred line being completely erased as he pulls you flush onto his lap. Both of you moan at the contact, hot breath fanning against open mouths at the feel of each other like this. The wet bathing suits leave little to the imagination and he’s somehow even bigger than the stories led on.

”Steve.” You whimper, eyes rolling back at the first grind of your hips against him, fingers curling into his hair to try to anchor yourself somehow.

”Look who’s easy now.” He smirks, top lip catching against your bottom lifting his hips up just enough for you to gasp.

“Shut up, Harrington.” You grin into his mouth breathlessly before doing what you’ve both wanted for so long, closing the space.

Eyes fluttering closed, Steve takes control of the kiss like he’s gone over this a thousand times in his head. With one arm wrapped around the small of your back, he pulls you closer while the other has his hand curved around the back of your neck. Licking into your mouth with easy permission, you can taste the watermelon on his tongue, earning a deep moan from your chest.

You let your lips get so greedy you think they might bruise, but he meets you with equal enthusiasm, teeth scraping together ever so often from the force of it. Steve starts to guide your hips, dragging your heat along the hard length of him, groaning into the kiss at the easy glide.

“So wet already.” He murmurs against your jaw, pulling away to catch his breath trailing kisses down to your neck. “Knew you were perfect.”

His words have you shuddering on top of him, your lips spreading over his restrained cock that somehow grows even harder between your legs. The tip catches against your clit with just the right amount of pressure to have your back arch. He grunts at that before leaning back, pulling your cover up over your head. Letting his mouth devour the soft flesh of your breasts, he tugs your suit down more watching them spill out from the top with hungry eyes.

“Oh my god.” The last word comes out in a whimper feeling of him sucking a bruise into the swell of one, licking it better after he’s pleased with it.

”I’ve wanted you for so fucking long.” He confesses, licking up your neck, punctuating his sentence with a harsh grip dragging you over his length like you don’t believe him. “God, those little dresses you wear to work.”

Steve groans at the thought of it, before kissing your smiling lips, earning you a curve of his own. You keep it a secret that you’d picked all of them out for him, even when you told yourself you didn’t.

”Remind me to never wear them again, then.” You breathe against his mouth, taking your turn to nip at his jaw, fingers curling under his shirt tugging it off tossing it with the sheer fabric on the ground.

”Not funny.”

Grabbing your chin between his fingers, he brings you back to him, dark eyes swallowing you whole in their abyss. The pad of his thumb traces the curve of your bottom lip before biting it playfully with a roll of his hips. He admires the way your jaw goes slack, eye brows furrowing, rolling your hips searching for more.

”Steve — we can’t.” You whine, feeling the way his hand on your back starts a determined path down between your legs. Contradicting yourself, you spread them wider.

“We can't, what?” He whispers just barely audible over the hum of the cicadas, fingers hooking into the soaked nylon fabric of your swim suit, moaning at the slick he’s met with brushing along your seam.

“Fuck, baby.”

The endearment sends another wave of arousal to your core, coating his fingers even more as he lazily collects all of it on the pads of them. Pressing his thumb against your bundle of nerves, one side of his mouth ticks up at the breathless way you say his name and tug at his hair because of it.

“This is a bad idea.” You finally manage, pressing your forehead against his chasing his touch with hungry hips. “Plus your neighbors.”

“What about them?” He whispers with a gruff voice, middle finger teasing, circling your fluttering entrance waiting for your answer.

”I - uh — oh god.” Your hips stutter at his thumb’s returning pressure to your clit, while the tip of his middle finger barely pushes in. “They’re gonna see us.”

”No they won’t.” He says cooly, starting to rub light circles on the oversensitive bundle of nerves. His hand grips your neck tighter, relishing in the way your body reacts with every swipe. “They’re on vacation too.”

”How do you know?” You manage to argue, hands sliding down his chest where they curl into the coarse hair peppered there.

Giving it a gentle tug, you know he can feel the way you squeeze around him watching his lashes flutter.

”They go every year, and the other house next door is for sale.” Stealing another kiss, he pushes one more knuckle in swallowing your moan. “We’re alone.”

”That doesn’t mean any — oh fuck, Steve.”

He pushes his middle finger the rest of the way in, your walls welcoming the stretch trying their best to get him to go deeper. Now, it’s your turn to eat his moan that rumbles loud, vibrating from his chest.

“Tell me what you want, honey.” He breathes hot against your lips, pulling his finger almost all of the way out, before sliding it back into your heat with even more ease than before, cock twitching against your thigh.

“Not - not all the way. Need you to take me on a date first.” You murmur, tugging at the elastic band of his trunks.

Nodding eagerly, it’s all he needs to add another finger, stretching you open in a way that has your head toss back. His lips waste no time taking advantage of your exposed neck, licking a path to the sensitive spot behind your ear. He nips at it playfully before sucking hard enough to earn what he knows is going to be his favorite sound, immediately doing it again.

You hands move quickly to even the playing field, shoving his shorts down as you lick into his mouth. He groans, the deep sound rumbling from his chest when your hand wraps around him giving a squeeze. The heavy weight of it sends your mind reeling, squirming against him.

“Jesus Christ, Harrington.” You smile against his mouth, starting to slowly pump him.

“Yeah? You like it?” He murmurs, licking at your top lip, the beginnings of a grin playing at the edges of his mouth.

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

Swiping your thumb over the sensitive tip, you collect what’s yours using it to help guide you hand, relishing in the shudder that pulses through him.

Cursing under his breath, he comes back to with fingers that start to work you relentlessly. Your cheeks warm at the lewd sounds of your arousal but it only seems to spur him on more. His hips lift with every pump and squeeze of your hand at the same time yours roll against his. The motion brings you near to what you really want, his cock getting dangerously close to where his fingers work you.

“So god damn soft baby, so tight. I bet you feel so fucking good.” He says through gritted teeth, pushing himself close enough for the tip of him to catch your clit.

“Oh my god Steve.” You shudder on top of him needing more. So much more.

“Let me just feel you, don’t you want that? God I want it so bad.” His hips lift higher, and the full length of him slides through your slick fold.

The moans that spill out of both of you at the contact are loud enough that you're thankful his neighbors are on vacation. At least you hope they are.

“Oh fuck - honey.” He practically whines, doing it again, dark eyes flicking between your legs to watch.

“You - you feel so good.” You breathe against his mouth.

Setting your full weight on the thickness of his cock, he slips his fingers out, your walls that desperately try to suck him back in. He puts them to work, focusing on your clit watching you rock your hips against the length of him over and over.

“Wanna see you cum like this.” He says, brows forming a deep V tugging his full bottom lip between his teeth watching you take what you want.

“I’m so close.” Your response comes out in a whimper, the coil inside of your tightening, threatening to give.

“You’re so damn pretty — god baby, give it to me. Please.” Steve begs, rolling his hips meeting yours with the kind of fervor that catches his tip where you want him most.

“Steve!” You shudder, sinking down on him just enough to feel the first stretch, your body humming begging you to give it more.

“Oh fuck, oh god.” He whines, squeezing the back of your neck, desperately trying to regain control when he slips back out nudging your clit again.

Steve twitches between your legs, growing impossibly harder with every swipe through your folds. Your arousal coats him so much that his swim suit grows damp all over again where you sit perched on his big lap. He finds just the right rhythm and pressure against your clit that has your eyes hitting the back of your head, your demise imminent.

“I’m gonna - I’m gonna cum.” You moan against his mouth, rolling your hips chasing the high.

“Yeah?” He grunts, twitching again letting you know he’s close too. “Let me have it.”

All you can manage is a nod, face crumpling as stars start to burst in bright colors behind your eyelids. Your body trembles as your orgasm rips through you, coming out in unintelligible babbling especially when you feel him spill all over you.

The noise that claws its way out of his throat is animalistic, throwing his head back against the chair. He shivers underneath you, both of your hips moving lazily chasing the high and relishing in the feel of your consequences between your legs.

“Jesus, honey.” He huffs out a laugh, running a hand through his sweat curled hair before they both land on your curves giving them a squeeze. “Thought you just wanted to help me clean up.”

“You’re an ass.” You giggle shoving his chest with an out of breath smile. “I’m too tired now. Sorry.”

“That’s okay, my room’s clean anyway.” Steve wiggles his eyebrows, rolling his hips one last time smirking at the small gasp it earns him.

“You gotta take me on a date first, this was a lapse of judgment.” You tease, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth.

“What are you doing now?” He smiles, too smooth for his own good.

[saintlike05]

I NEED HIM 😩😩😩

[melissax777]

big and dominant but also gentle and patient with me

[disgustinggf]

i need a hug that's so tight that my ribs break

[heartpdfs]

[disgustinggf]

[rafesteddy]

A Golf Lesson with Rafe After a Boozy Brunch…

bf!rafe x reader

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ inspired by this

c/w .ᐟ.ᐟ language, pet names, tipsy behavior, rafe is down bad and so are you, sexual tension + heavy petting

2,799 words

The sun is warm on your skin as you step out of the Island Club, laughter still bubbling on your lips from the table you just left behind. The smile sticks too, your head a little floaty, your limbs looser than you intended them to be when you asked your boyfriend for the golf lesson earlier in the week.

The mimosas had started innocently enough, one turning into two, then another round ordered for the table. Suddenly everything felt lighter and warmer, the conversations with your friends turning into more tea than table talk.

Your purse strap slides down your shoulder as your hands reach to slip off your heels, your bare feet hitting the cobblestone.

That is when you see him, already out front and waiting exactly where he said he would be.

Rafe leans back in the golf cart, one big arm stretched along the back and the other resting lazily on the wheel. His hardened features soften completely when he sees you, a smile curling on his lips, a quiet chuckle slipping out when he notices your heels dangling from your fingers and your bare feet on the stone.

His head tilts slightly, sunglasses low on his nose, his thumb tapping rhythmically against the wheel of the golf cart.

Your stomach flips, that warm feeling spreading as you try to collect yourself, suddenly aware of every step you take. His eyebrows lift, noticing the soft sway in your hips and the way your smile refuses to settle.

“There she is,” he says, the smile reaching his eyes. You try to bite back a grin and play it off, but it only makes it worse, because you’re clearly not as composed as you think you are.

By the time you reach the cart, he is already leaning forward, his elbow braced on his knee to get a better look, not wanting to miss a thing.

“Hey, baby,” he says teasingly. “You have fun?”

“Mhmm,” you hum, nodding a little too eagerly.

His gaze flicks down briefly as he taps the seat next to him. He holds out his hand for you, gold watch glimmering in the sunlight, helping you inside. The second you’re beside him, his hand comes up, cupping your face, and you lean into it naturally as his lips press against yours.

He groans against your lips, smiling against your mouth as the sweetness of your lip gloss mixes with the champagne still lingering on your tongue. His thumb rubs gently against your cheek, soaking in the moment with you.

“You a little gone, sweetheart?” He murmurs, his voice softer now, lips brushing against yours.

“No—Me?” You ask, your response not nearly convincing enough, and it only makes him laugh quietly under his breath.

“Just thought I’d ask,” he feigns genuine curiosity, leaning back, his arm coming to rest along the back of your seat.

He grips the steering wheel again, his forearm flexing with the movement, his bicep shifting under the sleeve of his golf shirt. Your eyes drift away for a moment, that same stupid, traitorous smile giving you away again, because he looks too damn good like this. It’s unfair.

The cart hums to life beneath you as he pulls away from the clubhouse, one hand still resting loosely behind you.

“I’m fine,” you insist, feeling him eyeing you in your peripheral. He studies you for a moment, seeing your reaction, hoping to get a little more if it has you giggling like that. Then his tongue drags slowly over his bottom lip when your eyes meet his again.

“Thirsty?” He chuckles, nodding to the cup holders, something bright and citrusy, condensation dripping down the side.

“Might have had a little too much fun,” you mumble under your breath, and he snorts at the understatement.

“Well, just in case,” he smiles. “Brought you some water too, pretty. And… your golf shoes.” Your eyes fall to your lap, shoes still hooked around your finger. “Toss ‘em back there.”

“Thank you, baby,” you say, leaning closer to toss your heels in the back basket. His arm tightens around you at the contact, pulling you closer, pressing a kiss on your forehead. “M’sorry.”

Rafe pulls back and looks down at you, searching for your eyes. “What are you sorry about?” He asks, the question genuine, like maybe he said the wrong thing.

“I asked you to teach me and—well,” you giggle, your hand coming up to squeeze his bicep when he takes a sharp turn, your head falling onto his shoulder a little heavier than usual.

He rolls up beside the tee box fast, cutting off the engine before turning to look at you. “I just wanted to spend the day with you, baby. I don’t care if you had a few. I’m just teasin’ you, honey. It isn’t like we can’t come again—you’re not gettin’ rid of me.”

“Okay,” you giggle.

“That smile,” he mumbles, pressing his sunglasses up on his nose a little. “That’s all that matters, aight?”

His gaze drops from your face to the line of your neck, following the way the little black golf dress fits you like it was made for you, skimming your waist, hugging your hips, and showing just enough skin to make his hand tighten slightly around the wheel.

“And you… you look so damn good,” he says, softer this time. Your nose scrunches as you smile bashfully. “Missed you.”

“Missed you too,” you murmur.

“You ready for this?” He asks, nodding toward the course ahead, a stretch of green and crisp white flags, golf carts zipping around with regulars and pros. “Or do you wanna go home and hang out by the pool instead?” His tone lifts slightly like he is already thinking about it.

“No, I’m ready,” you answer quickly, remembering how happy he was when you first asked.

“Yeah?” He asks, his brow lifting slightly as he reaches for his drink. “You sure? I mean… I wouldn’t exactly be mad about going home.”

“Later,” you giggle, watching him smile against the rim of his glass before he glances at you and gives you a small wink.

He gets out first, his shoes hitting the grass as he adjusts his hat, his fingers hooking the brim and flipping it around so it sits backward on his head. He moves around the cart while you do the same, stretching out his arms and rolling his shoulders, and for a second you just stand there watching him.

Butterflies stir in your stomach as you take him in, tall and strong, sun-kissed under the afternoon light, his blue eyes scanning down the fairway to check on the group ahead.

He glances over at you and catches you staring just as you tug on your golf shoes, teetering slightly as you hop on one foot, grabbing the cart for balance.

“C’mere, baby,” he murmurs, beckoning you closer as he drops down onto one knee in front of you.

He looks up at you as he reaches for your shoe. “What club do you think we’re using, sunshine?” He drawls, tying one before moving to the other.

“Um…” you say, a little flustered as he stands again, close enough that your chest brushes his. “Nine?” The answer comes out more like a question, and he smiles.

“Mhmm…” He hums, pulling a hat down onto your head before pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

“Lucky guess,” you giggle.

“Nah,” he says easily. “You’re just a natural.” Rafe reaches into your bag, pulling out a club, handing it to you.

The two of you walk toward the markers side by side. He digs into his pocket, pulling out a ball and a tee, then scratches your name onto the scorecard just above his before glancing up to watch the pair ahead move toward the green.

“Alright, baby, first thing is your stance,” he starts, stepping closer as he gestures toward the ground. “You want your feet about shoulder-width apart and your weight balanced.”

“Mhmm,” you agree as he mirrors your stance, standing a few feet in front of you.

But in reality, you’re not hearing a single word because it all starts to drift away and blur together into something that sounds blah, blah, blah, proper name, place name, backstory stuff, because you’re just watching him.

You notice the way his mouth moves when he talks, the way his arms flex when he adjusts his grip on the club, and the way his voice softens slightly, like he actually cares about getting it right for you.

Your eyes move over him slowly without trying to hide it, and when you finally look back up at his face, you realize he is already looking at you.

“You’re not listening to a damn thing I’m saying, are you, baby?” He asks, a quiet, bashful laugh slipping out, a faint flush creeping across his cheeks.

“What?” You ask softly, your hands dropping to the club like you even know what you are fixing, which only makes him laugh harder.

The head of his club taps against the grass as he tries to collect himself, but he cannot even pretend to be annoyed about it.

If anything, it looks like he loves it, like he loves you like this, a little distracted and completely caught up in him.

He steps closer again, slower this time, and it’s less about the lesson now and more about you, his attention shifting between your eyes and your mouth as he exhales quietly through a small smile.

“Alright,” he says, his voice dropping slightly. “Yeah… this isn’t gonna go how I planned.”

“I’m sorry,” you repeat softly, echoing yourself from earlier without even realizing it.

“Baby,” he murmurs, his tone lowering just enough to make it clear he does not want to hear you apologize again.

You nod, taking in a little breath, brows furrowing as you try to focus on your stance, and the club face.

He grins at that, his eyes moving over you again, slower this time as he takes in the dress, the way it flutters in the breeze, and the way your tongue pokes out a little as you try to mimic his shoulder position.

“Yeah,” he hums, pretty distracted himself. “Exactly like that.” You smile proudly, following behind him as he takes a practice swing of his own. “Alright, baby. You’re up.”

You look ahead, watching the old men in front of you cruise off in their cart toward the second hole. You crouch down, sinking your tee into the grass, settling your ball on top, watching it wobble slightly before it finally steadies.

“Atta baby,” he says, his tone easy and approving, like you did something far more impressive than setting a ball on a tee, but it makes you smile anyway.

You step into position, lining yourself up with the ball as you adjust your feet the way you’ve seen him do before. He walks around you, watching you closely. “Alright, hold on,” he says, stepping in. “Let me fix a couple things.”

You nod, your eyes still fixed on the ball.

“See how this hole runs?” He says, one hand coming up to rest on your waist as the other points ahead. “It’s gonna hook left once you get some distance on it, so you don’t want to aim straight down the middle, you want to offset a little to the right.”

You glance over your shoulder at him, smiling as you see just how close he is, his eyes nowhere near where they need to be as his gaze traces from the hem of your skirt, following where the fabric stretches over your back, dipping low.

His eyes meet yours and he smiles. “You listening?” He asks as he smirks.

“You focusing?” You giggle, gasping as his hand comes down to swat you playfully on the butt.

“Am I focused?” He snorts, laughing under his breath. “I’m focused, baby. I’m locked in.”

“Mmm… Sure,” you tease him, tightening your hold on the club. You glance up where you need to go, squinting into the sun a little bit before you look down at the ball, your hold tightening on the iron as you try your best to lock in yourself.

“Sheesh, baby,” he says, pulling you right out of your focus, stepping in closer to look over your shoulder, shifting back into teaching mode. “Your grip—”

“What?” You ask.

“Hey, don’t move,” he adds lightly. “Your stance is perfect but you’re squeezing the life out of this thing. Relax.” The final words fade off his lips as he steps in behind you.

His chest pushes against your back, solid and warm, the heat of him seeping through the thin fabric of his polo. He keeps talking through it, calm and patient, like this is still a real lesson and not something that shifted the second he got close enough to hold you in his arms.

Your fingers loosen around the club like he told you to, but the effort is half-hearted at best because you are too aware of him—of the way he is standing behind you, his body lining up perfectly with yours.

His hands come in, settling briefly over your grip, so big they almost completely cover your own. “Like this,” he says quietly. “Not too tight, just let the club do the work.”

Music drifts from the golf cart, the afternoon breeze swirling around the subtle sweetness of wild roses and freshly cut grass as that little liquored-laced buzz of yours mellows you out even more in the North Carolina heat.

“Baby…” He murmurs; a quiet breath of a laugh leaving him warm and close against your ear. “Stop wiggling, yeah? Your stance was perfect.”

You hum softly in response, still not fully present, your weight shifting again just enough that you end up settling back into him instead of finding your stance again.

“Back straight, alright?” He mumbles. “Bend at the knees—” His breath catches, the word leaving him as you do your version of whatever that is.

His grip tightens over yours, not correcting anymore, a helpless laugh tumbling out of him before he can stop it, his control slipping almost instantly as his head drops forward, pressing into the curve of your neck when you push back into his lap.

You giggle breathily, catching your error—catching the way he reacts too. And for a moment you pause, realizing exactly what’s happening, and how much he’s enjoying the lesson.

“Fuck, baby, just—“ He huffs out a breath. “Keep… Keep goin’,” the words barely pass his mouth, and you can hear the lusty smile on his lips.

You bite your lip, grinding your hips a little more for the fun of it; ass pressing against the thick bulge beneath his shorts.

His hands drop down to grip your thighs, drifting inward. You turn your cheek and your lips ghost over the top of his, his smile spreading across your mouth before he kisses you soft enough to make your lips and your whole body tingle.

He lets it happen longer than he should, long enough for it to sink in and feel good—too good. A cart of old women rolls by, heading back from the 18th hole, and he clears his throat, snapping himself out of it, forcing himself away from you, blinking a few times as he tries to reset and remember where the two of you are.

“Baby,” he says, shaking his head slowly, like he does not even know what to do with you anymore.

“I’m sorry,” you say quickly, the words tumbling out as you laugh, shaking your head while you reposition your hands. “I’m sorry, okay, let’s try again. I’ll be good, I promise.”

You line yourself back up with the ball like you mean it this time, adjusting your stance and squaring your shoulders. His hands hover over your hips. A quiet, defeated laugh slips past his lips because it hits him that there’s no version of this where he finishes the lesson. Not a single chance that he makes it through the front nine, let alone the back without taking that dress off you and getting you underneath him.

“Nah,” he decides, almost immediately.

Before you can react, his hand hooks around your waist, the other taking the club off your hands. He guides you back toward the cart with a smile on his lips.

“Rafe—”

“We’re not doin’ that,” he mutters under his breath, still half-laughing as you start to assure him that you’ve got this, but all he’s got is you on his mind. “We’re gettin’ outta here.”

“Why?” You ask, as if the answer isn’t written all over his face and strained against the zipper of his shorts as the two of you step into the golf cart again, not a single swing marked on the scorecard.

“So you can do that again.”

⛳️🏌🏻‍♀️ new tag list on my pinned post 🍹 @rafesthroatbaby @hockeygirlyyyy @karlydiary @drewstarkeyswife-7 @ornellastreet @cokewithcameron @loserboysandlithium @buckybarnessweetheart @torturedpoetism @slut-4-rafey @americanboz0 @taliescapes @rcameronlova1 @slxttfadustin @cdiaz18 @tangledinmyfeelings @harrrrystylesslut @rafecamlovr @st8rkey @obsessedwrafe @my-name-is-baby @dollforafe @fiercetigerpoison @seulbeomie @pillowprincess4him @moondustbaby @celestialreid @premiumshitt @gigislover08 @lilithblackkk @babygoddam @harringtonsbowgirl @yesimeasyy @angelicameron @ashleyytatum @stace-041193 @rafesbabygirlx @lhhlver @raf3cam3r0n @rafesbuzzcutseason @jscasmth @bunnyx2 @virgilsgurl @diasnohibng @ariieeesworld @ilovehughbiggs @wisewarriorlycanthrope @willowpains @esmerai-artemis @simp4f1 @jejdidsj

[lacyysarchive]

“Atta baby,” he says, his tone easy and approving, like you did something far more impressive than setting a ball on a tee, but it makes you smile anyway.

Im in heat.

[saintlike05]

In love with this 💗🤤

[stricatul]

That whole "I don't care" act is dead and tired. You don't have emotions? Cool. Go seek therapy and be toxic somewhere else.

[o528s]

steve and his innocent gf who wants to be put in a headlock when fucking <3

steve’s got you pinned beneath him on the mattress, one forearm braced beside your head, the other hand gripping the meat of your thigh so he can keep your leg hooked high around his waist. he’s been fucking you slow, deliberately slow, for what feels like forever, dragging the thick length of him out until just the tip nudges inside, then sliding back in so deep your breath hitches every single time.

“ohh baby,” he murmurs, “already so fucking gone and m’barely even trying”

you whine, nails digging into the flexing muscles of his back. he chuckles and rolls his hips in a lazy circle that makes your eyes flutter.

“a-ah stevieee!”

“uh-uh.” he dips his head, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “you don’t get to whine my name like that unless you’re gonna use your words. c’mon, honey. tell me what you want. you can do that, right? or is that pretty little head too full of cock to think straight?”

heat floods your face. he knows exactly what he’s doing, has known since the second you started squirming harder every time his bicep flexed beside your cheek.

you swallow, “i… i want-”

he pulls out almost all the way again, waits. lets the silence stretch until you’re clenching around nothing.

“want what?” he prompts, voice dripping mock sweetness. “gotta say it, sweetheart. i’m not a mind reader. well-” another slow, torturous slide back inside, “i guess i am when it comes to this greedy little cunt, huh? she’s doing all the talking for you.”

your thighs tremble. you can feel how wet you are, can hear it every time he fucks back in. embarrassing. but you’re way past caring.

“headlock,” you finally breathe. “wan’ you to-put me in a headlock. please.”

steve stills for half a second. then a filthy grin spreads across his face.

“ohhh, baby.” he sounds delighted. “you’re so fucking cute when you’re this dumb for me.”

he doesn’t tease you about it, not with words, anyway. instead he shifts his weight, plants one knee deeper into the mattress so he can get the angle right, then slides his thick forearm under the back of your neck.

“like this?” he asks, voice deceptively gentle as he starts fucking you again, deeper now, harder, using the new leverage to pull you onto his cock with every thrust. “this what my sweet little dummy wanted?”

you nod frantically. can’t speak. don’t need to. your mouth drops open on a silent moan.

he hums, pleased. “yeah, i thought so. look at you, y’drooling. can’t even keep that pretty mouth closed anymore.”

the crook of his elbow tightens, just enough, cradling your head, forcing your neck to arch so you’re looking right up at him. his bicep bulges against the side of your face; you can smell the clean sweat and the faint cedar of his cologne. it’s overwhelming. you’re surrounded by him, inside you, around you, above you.

“you like this huh? pretty lil’ cunt loves it?” he groans, pace picking up, hips snapping harder. wet, filthy sounds fill the room. “love being my stupid little thing. can’t think, can’t talk-just gotta take it. just gotta let me rearrange that tight cunt while i hold you exactly where i want you.”

you whimper. try to say his name. it comes out garbled. “st-ohh-st-t-ohh-fu-fu-mmhmphh”

“shhh, i know, baby. i know.” he leans down, lips brushing your forehead, such a sweet contrast to the way he’s pounding into you now. “you don’t have to talk. you’re doing so good just laying there and letting me fuck you stupid. that’s all you’re good for right now, huh? my perfect little cockdrunk girl.”

the pressure of his arm increases, just a fraction. your vision blurs at the edges, pleasure spiking so sharp it almost hurts. you’re shaking. clenching. so close.

“gonna cum f’me?” he coos, voice wrecked and mocking at the same time. “gonna soak my cock while i’ve got you all locked up like this? yeah you are. i can feel it. this pussy’s begging for it. c’mon give it to me. let me feel how dumb stevie makes you.”

you break with a sob, back bowing, thighs locking around him as you come so hard your ears ring. he doesn’t let up, keeps the headlock firm, keeps fucking you through it with long, punishing strokes until he’s growling low in his throat, burying himself deep and spilling inside you with a muttered string of filth you can barely process.

when he finally eases his arm away, he doesn’t pull out right away. just stays there, heavy and warm on top of you, pressing soft kisses along your temple, your cheek, the corner of your mouth.

“good girl, y’did so good,” he whispers, all honey again. “took me so well.”

you’re still floating. still can’t quite string words together.

he smiles against your skin. “

[saintlike05]

I’M GRIPPING THE SHEETS 😩😩😩

[o528s]

bf!steve and his innocent gf that’s obsessed w his cock <3

your relationship with steve was still so new it felt electric and fragile at the same time. you’d never really had a boyfriend before, well not one who mattered, and even though everyone warned you about his reputation, he was nothing but sweet, goofy, ridiculous in the best way. he made you laugh until your stomach hurt… and sometimes he made heat bloom low in your belly, this unfamiliar, throbbing ache between your thighs that left you squirming.

he’d been patient. teaching you how to kiss properly, how to make out until your lips felt swollen and sensitive, how to let his fingers slip beneath your panties and rub slow, devastating circles until you were gasping into his mouth. you’d gotten embarrassingly familiar with the sight of him stroking himself for you, thick and flushed in his fist while you watched, mesmerized.

and god, his cock. you were utterly obsessed.

it wasn’t porno long, but it was stupidly thick, heavy-looking, ridged with veins that stood out under silky skin. the head was a perfect, flushed pink, glossy whenever he was hard, and the moment he first showed it to you, something in your brain short-circuited. all you could think about afterward was getting your mouth on it. constantly. like some kind of oral fixation you didn’t know you had.

you weren’t great at saying what you wanted out loud. words felt clumsy. instead you just got whiny, needy, handsy, body language screaming what your voice couldn’t quite manage.

“steveee,” you whined, thighs squeezing together on the bed as friction sparked uselessly against your clit.

he was sitting at your desk chair, actually focused for once, which was rare enough to make you pout. “mhm?” he answered absently, eyes flicking back to the ridiculous little tower he’d built out of the random shit you had on your desk that you’d probably last used before exam week prior graduation.

“look babe! pew pew,” he grinned, making tiny shooting noises while tilting the structure like it was a spaceship.

you couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled up, even as the ache between your legs pulsed harder. you slid off the bed and padded over, lashes fluttering as you dropped to your knees between his spread thighs. your palm smoothed over the front of his jeans immediately, feeling the thick outline twitch and swell under your touch.

“want it, stevie,” you whined, voice small and breathy. “please? really wanna suck on y’know… please.”

he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, “how could i ever say no to this pretty face, huh?”

you nodded eagerly, not even listening to what he was saying, tongue already peeking out in anticipation.

“y’remember how to take this off?” he tapped the complicated buckle on his belt.

you nodded again, faster this time, eyes wide and glassy.

“shit,” he muttered under his breath.

before you could reach for the belt, his thumb pushed past your lips. you froze for half a second, then closed around it, sucking hard, cheeks hollowing, lashes fluttering shut. a soft, needy “mmph” vibrated around his finger.

“good girll y’look so pretty f’me baby,” he rasped.

he yanked the belt free in one smooth motion, jeans and boxers shoved down just enough. his cock sprang up, thick, veiny, already leaking at the pretty pink tip. you whimpered at the sight, mouth watering.

steve looped the belt around your throat and gave a light tug, pulling your face closer until your nose brushed the base.

“ohhh fuck, baby… yeah yeahyeah,” he groaned, voice rough as your lips parted around him. “just like that mmm”

your head started bobbing right away, messy, eager, a little sloppy, but so enthusiastic it didn’t matter. you hollowed your cheeks, tongue swirling over the thick ridge underneath, chasing every vein, every throb. the belt tugged again, gentle but firm, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

steve’s free hand slid into your hair, thumb stroking over your cheek while shallow thrusts met your rhythm.

“so goo-ahh shiiit babe,” he breathed, almost reverent. “so fuckin’ desperate for it.. my sweet little thing.”

you moaned around him, vibrations making his hips jerk, eyes watering slightly but never pulling off. you didn’t want to. not even for air.

not when he tasted this good.

(𖦹 _ 𖦹) (𖦹 _ 𖦹)

[saintlike05]

“Steve looped the belt around your throat and gave a light tug, pulling your face closer until your nose brushed the base.” HOLY FUCK I- 😩😩😩💕💕💕

[landsccape]

[saintlike05]

Sweet little baby 😭💗

[willsmole]

— Eddie’s Lagoon Escape

Eddie Munson X F!Reader

NSFW 18+

Synopsis Innocent reader joins Eddie Munson on a romantic hike to a secluded lagoon.  Content Warning Explicit sexual content including oral sex, fingering, virginity loss, and body worship. Intended for adults 18+; themes of innocence and first-time experiences.

WC 13.9k

𐦔

The sun hangs high in the sky as Eddie grabs my hand, his fingers intertwining with mine in that effortless way that makes my heart skip. “Ready for an adventure, sweetheart?” he asks, his voice laced with that signature mischief, his dark eyes sparkling under the brim of his faded black cap. I nod, a shy smile tugging at my lips. I’ve never been one for hikes or the great outdoors—Hawkins feels safer in the confines of familiar streets—but with Eddie, everything feels exciting, new. He’s wearing his usual ripped jeans, a band tee under his denim vest, and those scuffed boots that crunch against the gravel path leading into the hills.

We start at the edge of town, where the pavement gives way to a dirt trail winding up into the forested hills. The air smells fresh, like pine and damp earth after last night’s rain. Birds chirp overhead, and the leaves rustle in a gentle breeze that lifts strands of my hair. Eddie swings our joined hands as we walk, his thumb stroking the back of mine absentmindedly. “This path’s my secret,” he says, leaning close so his breath tickles my ear. “Leads to places no one else bothers with. Just you and me today.”

My sneakers slip a bit on the loose rocks, but Eddie steadies me every time, his grip firm yet gentle. “Whoa there,” he chuckles the first time I stumble. “Can’t have my girl twisting an ankle before we even get started.” His girl—that phrase sends a warm flutter through my chest. We’ve been seeing each other for a few weeks now, stolen kisses in his van or behind the school, but this is our first real outing alone. I’m innocent in ways that make me blush just thinking about it, never gone further than making out, but Eddie never pushes. He treats me like something precious.

The trail steepens, and my breath comes in puffs as we climb. Eddie points out little things to distract me—a squirrel scampering up a tree, wildflowers blooming in clusters of purple and yellow. “See that? Queen Anne’s lace,” he says, plucking one and tucking it behind my ear. “Fits you—delicate and pretty.” I feel my cheeks heat, but I laugh it off. He’s always saying stuff like that, making me feel seen in a way no one else does.

We pause at a small overlook about halfway up, where the trees part to reveal Hawkins sprawled below like a toy town. Eddie pulls a water bottle from his backpack and hands it to me first. “Hydrate,” he orders playfully, watching as I drink. His eyes linger on my lips, then flick away with a grin. “View’s not bad, huh? But wait till we get to the top.” I hand the bottle back, our fingers brushing, and he takes a swig before capping it. “Tell me something,” he says, sitting on a fallen log and patting the spot next to him. “What’s your favorite part of nature? Trees? Sky? Bugs?” He waggles his eyebrows at the last one.

I sit close, our thighs touching. “The quiet, I think. Away from everything.” He nods thoughtfully. “Yeah, me too. Out here, no judgments, no bullshit. Just… freedom.” His arm slips around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. He smells like cigarette smoke and that cheap cologne he wears, mixed with the forest. We sit like that for a bit, his chin resting on my head, until he stands and offers his hand again. “Onward, fair maiden. The best is yet to come.”

The path narrows, forcing us single file at times, but Eddie keeps glancing back, making sure I’m okay. He tells stories to pass the time—about the time he and his Hellfire Club buddies camped out here and scared each other with ghost tales, or how he once found an old arrowhead buried in the dirt. “Indigenous history all around us,” he muses. “Makes you think about time, y’know? We’re just blips.” His enthusiasm is infectious; I find myself asking questions, laughing at his dramatic retellings.

Sweat beads on my forehead as the sun beats down, but the canopy thickens, providing shade. My legs burn from the incline, but Eddie’s encouragement keeps me going. “Almost there,” he promises, his voice echoing slightly off the rocks. We round a bend, and the trail levels out into a meadow dotted with tall grasses swaying in the wind. Butterflies flit around, and in the distance, I hear the faint trickle of water. “Hear that?” Eddie asks, excitement building. “That’s our spot calling.”

He leads me through the meadow, the grass brushing my calves, until we reach the edge where the ground dips into a small, hidden valley. There, nestled like a jewel, is a lagoon—clear water reflecting the blue sky, surrounded by smooth boulders and ferns. A tiny waterfall feeds it from one side, creating a soothing murmur. It’s paradise, untouched and private. Eddie turns to me, his face lit with pride. “Welcome to Eden, Munson-style.” He drops his backpack and spreads his arms wide. “No one’s ever been here with me before. You’re the first.”

I step closer to the water’s edge, dipping my fingers in—cool and inviting. “It’s beautiful,” I breathe. Eddie comes up behind me, his hands on my waist, chin on my shoulder. “Not as beautiful as you,” he murmurs, but it’s not cheesy; it’s sincere. We stand there, his body warm against my back, watching dragonflies skim the surface. The adventure’s just beginning, but already, I feel closer to him than ever.

As we stand by the lagoon’s edge, Eddie turns me gently, his eyes locking onto mine with that intense, playful spark. “C’mere,” he murmurs, backing me up slowly until my back presses against the rough bark of a tall pine tree. The wood is cool and textured through my shirt, grounding me as his body closes in, not trapping but enveloping. His hands find my waist first, thumbs rubbing small circles over my hips, sending shivers up my spine. I can feel the heat radiating from him, contrasting the fresh forest air.

He lifts one hand to my face, fingers curling under my chin with a tenderness that makes my breath hitch. Tilting my head up slightly, he searches my eyes, as if asking permission without words. I nod, barely, my lips parting in anticipation. “You’re so damn beautiful,” he whispers, his voice low and husky, like velvet against my skin. Then his mouth descends, soft and unhurried, brushing mine in the lightest of kisses. It’s feather-light at first, just a graze that ignites a slow burn in my chest.

I sigh into it, my hands rising to clutch his vest, pulling him closer. Eddie responds by deepening the kiss incrementally, his lips molding to mine with exquisite care. He holds my chin steady, guiding the angle, making sure every touch is deliberate. Between kisses, he pulls back just enough to breathe words against my mouth. “My sweet girl,” he murmurs, his breath warm and minty from the gum he chewed earlier. Another kiss, this one lingering, his tongue tracing the seam of my lips teasingly. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

Tension builds like a coiled spring; my body arches toward him instinctively, craving more contact. His free hand slides up my side, fingers splaying over my ribs, not groping but exploring with reverence. He kisses me again, softer still, nipping gently at my lower lip before soothing it with his tongue. “Every time I look at you,” he whispers, his thumb stroking my jawline, “I can’t believe you’re real.” The words send a flush through me, heat pooling low in my belly. I whimper softly, and he smiles against my lips, that crooked grin I love.

He presses closer, his chest against mine, the tree bark digging in just enough to heighten the sensation. His kisses turn rhythmic—pull back, whisper, dive in. “Your eyes… they sparkle like stars,” he breathes, pecking the corner of my mouth. Then a full kiss, slow and deep, his tongue slipping in to dance with mine tentatively, respecting my inexperience. I melt, my knees weakening, but he holds me up with ease. “And your smile? Kills me every time.” Another pause, his forehead resting against mine, breaths mingling. The tenderness is overwhelming; no rush, just us in this moment.

My fingers tangle in his hair, the curly strands soft and wild. He groans quietly, the sound vibrating through me. “God, I love how you feel,” he whispers, kissing along my jaw now, light and worshipful. Back to my lips, holding my chin firmer as passion simmers. Tension coils tighter; I feel his heartbeat thundering against my chest, matching mine. “You’re perfect, sweetheart. So innocent, so mine.” The words are like honey, sweet and sticky, making me ache with need.

He captures my mouth again, this kiss longer, his hand leaving my chin to cup my cheek fully, thumb brushing my cheekbone. Sweet nothings flow freely now: “I could kiss you forever,” between one breath and the next. “Your lips are so soft… addictive.” I respond by pressing up on my toes, deepening it myself, surprising us both. He chuckles softly, the sound tender, and rewards me with a series of quick, soft pecks that build back to slow, languid ones.

The forest around us fades—the lagoon’s trickle, the rustling leaves—all drowned out by our shared breaths and whispers. His body pins me gently to the tree, one thigh slipping between mine for balance, adding a layer of intimate friction that makes me gasp. “Easy, baby,” he soothes, kissing my eyelid, my temple. “We’ve got all the time in the world.” Tension hums like electricity; every touch tender, every word a caress.

Finally, he pulls back slightly, eyes dark with desire but softened by affection. “You okay?” he asks, thumb tracing my swollen lips. I nod, breathless, pulling him in for one more kiss. The session leaves me tingling, ready for whatever comes next in our adventure.

After our makeout session against the tree, Eddie takes my hand again, leading me back to the clearing by the lagoon. “Time for that picnic I promised,” he says, his voice still a bit husky from the kisses. He pulls the blanket from his backpack—a faded red plaid one that looks like it’s seen better days—and spreads it out on the soft grass near the water’s edge. The spot is perfect, shaded by overhanging branches but with enough sun filtering through to warm us. I help him smooth out the corners, my fingers brushing his, and he flashes me that grin that makes my stomach flip.

We sit cross-legged, facing each other, as he unpacks the backpack. There’s sandwiches—simple turkey and cheese on white bread that he admits he threw together this morning—a couple of apples, a thermos of iced tea, and chips. But I brought something special too. From my own small bag, I pull out a Tupperware container of homemade treats: little chocolate-dipped strawberries and mini brownies I baked last night. I was nervous about it, wondering if he’d think it was too cutesy, but Eddie’s eyes light up when he sees them. “You made these? For me?” he asks, sounding genuinely touched.

I nod, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks. “Yeah, I thought… well, you like sweets, right?” He leans in, pecking my lips quickly. “Love ‘em. Especially from you.” We start with the sandwiches, munching quietly at first, the only sounds the gentle lap of the lagoon and distant bird calls. Eddie tells me about his latest D&D campaign idea, his hands gesturing wildly as he describes a dragon hoard guarded by riddles. I laugh, wiping mustard from the corner of his mouth with my thumb, and he captures my hand, kissing my palm. “You’re distracting me,” he teases.

As we finish the mains, I open the container of treats. The strawberries are plump, dipped in melted chocolate that’s set just right, and the brownies are fudgy with walnuts sprinkled on top. I pick up a strawberry by the stem and hold it out to him. “Open up,” I say softly, my voice a bit shy. Eddie obliges, leaning forward with exaggerated obedience, his eyes locked on mine. His lips part, and I feed it to him, watching as he bites down, the juice dribbling a little. He moans dramatically. “Holy shit, that’s good. You’re a wizard in the kitchen.” I giggle, picking another for myself, but he shakes his head. “Nah, feed me more. Spoil me.”

I do, alternating between strawberries and bites of brownie. Each time, his mouth closes around my fingers gently, his tongue flicking out to catch any chocolate, sending sparks through me. “Mmm, these are perfect,” he murmurs after a brownie bite. “Just like you.” My heart races; feeding him feels intimate, like a secret ritual just for us. He returns the favor, holding a strawberry to my lips. “Your turn, sweetheart.” I take it, our gazes never breaking, the sweetness exploding on my tongue. We go back and forth like this, the treats dwindling, laughter mixing with the growing tension from earlier.

By the time the container’s empty, we’re lying back on the blanket, my head on his chest, his arm around me. The sun has shifted, making the lagoon sparkle invitingly. “It’s getting warm,” Eddie notes, sitting up on his elbows. “Fancy a swim? Water’s probably perfect.” I hesitate, glancing at the clear pool. I didn’t bring a swimsuit—didn’t think we’d need one. “In our clothes?” I ask. He smirks. “Nah, strip down. Underwear’s basically the same as a bikini.” My stomach twists; the idea of being that exposed in front of him makes me nervous. I’ve never been naked—or close to it—with anyone before. What if he doesn’t like what he sees? My body’s not perfect; curves where I wish there weren’t, skin that’s pale and unmarked.

Eddie stands, peeling off his shirt without a second thought, revealing his lean torso, the tattoos scattered like stories on his skin—a bat here, a demon there. He kicks off his boots, then shucks his jeans, leaving him in black boxers that hug his hips. He’s confident, unselfconscious, and it only heightens my embarrassment. “Your turn,” he says gently, extending a hand to help me up. I stand, fiddling with the hem of my shirt. Internal thoughts race: God, he’s so hot—those muscles from playing guitar, the way his hair falls over his shoulders. But me? I’m just… plain. What if he laughs or looks away?

I start slow, pulling my shirt over my head, revealing my simple white bra. The air hits my skin, raising goosebumps. Eddie watches, but not leering—his eyes are soft, appreciative. Next, my shorts, sliding them down my legs, stepping out in matching cotton panties. I’m basically naked now, arms crossing over my chest instinctively. I feel so vulnerable, cheeks burning. He’s seen girls before, probably way more experienced ones. What if I’m not enough? The embarrassment floods me; I want to dive into the water and hide.

Eddie notices immediately, his expression shifting to concern. He steps closer, not touching yet, his voice calm and reassuring, like a steady anchor. “Hey, hey, look at me,” he says softly, tilting my chin up just like before. “You’re beautiful, okay? Every single part of you. No need to hide.” His eyes hold mine, sincere, no trace of judgment. “I’ve been dreaming about this, about you. You’re perfect to me.” The words soothe the knot in my stomach a little. He takes my hands gently, uncrossing my arms. “See? Stunning. And if you’re uncomfortable, we don’t have to. But trust me, you’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about.”

His calm tone works its magic; I breathe deeper, nodding. “Okay,” I whisper. He smiles, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. “That’s my girl.” Hand in hand, we walk to the lagoon’s edge. The water is cool as we wade in, up to our knees, then waists. Eddie splashes me lightly, making me laugh and forget my self-consciousness. We swim out to the deeper part, the clear water letting me see the rocky bottom. He pulls me close underwater, our bodies brushing, slick and weightless. “Feel good?” he asks, treading water beside me. I nod, wrapping my arms around his neck. The embarrassment fades as we play, dunking each other, racing to the waterfall.

Under the cascade, he backs me against a smooth rock, the water pounding around us. His hands on my waist, he kisses me again, wet and breathless. “Told you,” he murmurs. “Beautiful.” We stay like that, swimming and touching, until our fingers prune. Back on the blanket, drying in the sun, I feel bolder, less embarrassed. The picnic treats are gone, but the sweetness lingers in more ways than one.

As we lounge on the blanket after our swim, the sun drying our damp underwear, Eddie props himself up on one elbow, his gaze lingering on me with that mix of playfulness and intensity. Water droplets still cling to his skin, tracing paths down his chest, and I can’t help but stare, my thoughts swirling: He’s so confident, so experienced, while I’m just… me, innocent and unsure. But the way he looks at me makes me feel desired, safe. He reaches out, tucking a wet strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering on my cheek. “Hey,” he says softly, his voice like a warm caress. “Can I ask you something personal?”

I nod, my heart picking up pace as I sit up a bit, pulling my knees to my chest self-consciously. The bra and panties feel too revealing now that we’re out of the water, but Eddie’s eyes aren’t judgmental—they’re affectionate. “Sure,” I whisper, curiosity edging out my nerves.

He hesitates, searching my face, then asks gently, “Have you ever been eaten out before?” His tone is casual, but there’s a softness to it, like he’s testing the waters.

I blink, confusion washing over me. Eaten out? My mind races—does he mean like dining out? No, that doesn’t fit the context. Heat floods my cheeks as I realize it must be something intimate, something I’ve only vaguely heard whispers about in hushed school conversations. “I… I don’t even know what that means,” I admit, my voice small, embarrassment making me look away toward the lagoon. Internal thoughts flood in: God, I must sound so naive. He’s probably done this with others, and here I am, clueless. What if he thinks I’m too innocent, too boring?

Eddie chuckles lightly, not mocking, but warm and endearing. He shifts closer, his hand finding mine, intertwining our fingers. “Hey, no worries, sweetheart. It’s okay not to know.” His thumb strokes the back of my hand soothingly. “It means… well, using my mouth down there. On your pussy. Making you feel good with my tongue.” He says it straightforward but gentle, watching my reaction carefully.

My eyes widen, a flush spreading from my face down my neck. The idea sends a curious thrill through me, mixed with apprehension. I’ve touched myself before, tentatively, but nothing like that. “Oh,” I breathe, biting my lip. “No, I haven’t. Never.”

He smiles that crooked smile, his eyes darkening with desire but softened by care. “Would you let me show you? Only if you want. We can stop anytime.” His voice is calm, reassuring, no pressure—just an offer wrapped in tenderness.

I hesitate, my pulse thundering. Part of me is scared—exposed, vulnerable—but another part trusts him completely. He’s been so patient, so kind. “Okay,” I whisper finally. “Show me.”

Eddie’s face lights up, but he moves slowly, deliberately. “Alright, beautiful. Lie back for me.” He helps me recline on the blanket, the fabric warm from the sun against my back. He positions himself beside me first, leaning in to kiss me softly, his lips gentle and familiar, easing me into it. “Just relax,” he murmurs against my mouth. “I’m gonna take my time. Make you feel amazing.”

His kisses trail down my neck, feather-light, raising goosebumps. He worships my collarbone, my shoulders, his hands roaming softly over my sides. “You’re so soft,” he whispers, his breath hot on my skin. Slowly, he unhooks my bra, sliding it off with care, exposing my breasts to the air. I tense, but he cups them gently, thumbs circling my nipples until they harden. “Look at these perfect tits,” he says reverently, leaning down to kiss each one. “So responsive. Love how they fit in my hands.”

I arch slightly, a soft moan escaping as pleasure sparks. He takes his time here, sucking one nipple into his mouth, tongue swirling slowly while his hand kneads the other. The sensation builds a ache between my legs, and I shift restlessly. Eddie notices, smiling as he kisses lower, down my stomach, dipping his tongue into my navel. “Patience, baby,” he teases softly. “Gonna get there.”

His fingers hook into the waistband of my panties, pausing to look up at me. “This okay?” I nod, lifting my hips to help him slide them off. Now fully naked, I feel a wave of shyness—my body bare under his gaze, the lagoon breeze teasing my exposed skin. But Eddie’s eyes are full of awe. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he breathes, his hands tracing my thighs. “Every inch of you. So pretty down here.” He parts my legs gently, settling between them on his knees.

I watch him, breath held, as he leans in closer. His fingers trace my outer folds first, light and exploratory. “Already wet,” he murmurs approvingly. “That’s good. Means you’re excited.” One finger dips in slowly, just the tip, testing. I gasp at the intrusion—new, but not unwelcome. He watches my face, gauging. “Tell me if it’s too much.” But it’s not; it’s intriguing, a stretch that promises more.

He slides the finger deeper, inch by inch, curling it gently inside me. “So tight,” he whispers, his voice husky. “Feel that? That’s me, making you feel good.” He pumps slowly, in and out, building a rhythm that’s unhurried, letting me adjust. Pleasure coils low in my belly, warm and insistent. His thumb finds my clit, circling softly, syncing with his finger. “You’re doing so well,” he praises, leaning down to kiss my inner thigh.

Adding a second finger, he stretches me further, still slow, scissoring gently to open me up. “God, you’re soaking my fingers,” he says, fawning. “Taste? I bet you taste sweet as honey.” He withdraws them briefly, bringing them to his mouth, sucking clean with a groan. “Mmm, yeah. Sweeter than those strawberries you fed me. Like candy.” The sight makes me clench, heat surging.

He dives in then, his mouth replacing his fingers. His tongue laps at my entrance first, broad and flat, tasting me fully. “So fucking sweet,” he murmurs against me, the vibration making me shiver. He licks up to my clit, circling it slowly, teasing. I moan, hands fisting the blanket. “That’s it, let me hear you,” he encourages, his free hand holding my thigh open.

His fingers return, sliding back in as his tongue works my clit—slow thrusts, matching the lazy swirls. He’s soft, methodical, building the pleasure layer by layer. “Taste like heaven,” he whispers between licks. “Could do this all day. Your pussy’s perfect—wet, warm, all mine.” He suckles my clit gently, fingers curling to hit a spot inside that makes stars burst behind my eyes.

Tension builds, my hips bucking instinctively. Eddie holds me steady, his pace never rushing, just steady and worshipful. “Come for me, sweetheart,” he coos, fawning over every reaction. “Let go. Taste even sweeter when you do.” The combination—fingers deep, tongue insistent—pushes me over. I cry out, waves crashing through me, clenching around him.

He laps me through it, drawing out the bliss, then crawls up, kissing me softly so I taste myself. “See? Sweet as can be,” he murmurs, holding me close. The afterglow wraps us, intimate and tender.

As the waves of my orgasm fade, leaving me breathless and boneless on the blanket, I look up at Eddie. He’s hovering above me, his curly hair damp from our swim earlier, eyes dark with satisfaction and lingering hunger. His lips are shiny from me, and he licks them slowly, like he’s savoring the taste. “You okay, sweetheart?” he asks, his voice rough, fingers tracing lazy patterns on my thigh.

I nod, but a new urge bubbles up inside me. He’s given me so much pleasure, shown me things I didn’t even know existed, and I want to give back. Make him feel as good as he’s made me. My innocence makes me hesitate—I’ve never done this before, never even seen a guy like that up close—but curiosity and affection win out. “Eddie,” I whisper, sitting up a bit, my hand reaching for his waistband tentatively. “I want to make you feel good too. Can I… try?”

His eyes widen, a mix of surprise and desire flashing across his face. “You sure? You don’t have to, baby. This was about you.” But I can see the way his boxers tent, the outline straining, and it sparks something in me. I nod, more firmly. “I want to.”

Eddie exhales shakily, nodding as he shifts to sit back against a nearby rock, legs spread. “Alright, but only what you’re comfortable with.” He helps me kneel between his thighs, his hands gentle on my arms. I tug at his boxers, and he lifts his hips, letting me slide them down. His cock springs free, and I stare, my breath catching.

Internally, I’m mesmerized and a little intimidated. It’s thicker than I imagined, veined along the length, the skin smooth and flushed a deep pink at the tip where a bead of precum glistens. It curves slightly upward, hard and twitching under my gaze, nestled in a thatch of dark curls. The head is bulbous, almost mushroom-like, and the shaft looks velvety, warm to the touch even before I reach out. God, it’s beautiful in a raw, masculine way—powerful, yet vulnerable. I’ve seen pictures in health class, but this is real, attached to him, pulsing with need because of me. My core clenches at the thought; it’s intimidating, how it might feel, taste, but exciting too. I wonder if it’ll fit in my mouth, if I can make him moan like he made me.

Eddie watches me, his chest rising and falling. “Like what you see?” he teases softly, but there’s a vulnerability in his tone. I nod, wrapping my hand around the base tentatively. It’s hot, silky over steel, and he hisses, hips jerking slightly. “Fuck, your hand feels good.” Emboldened, I stroke slowly, up and down, feeling the ridges, the way it throbs in my grip. Precum leaks more, slicking my palm, making the slide easier.

Leaning in, I dart my tongue out, licking the tip experimentally. Salty, musky, not bad—unique, like him. Eddie groans, his hand threading gently into my hair, not pushing, just holding. “Yeah, just like that.” I take more into my mouth, lips stretching around the head, sucking lightly. His taste floods me, and I hum, trying to take him deeper. It’s awkward at first—my teeth graze accidentally, and I pull back, apologizing with my eyes.

“No, it’s perfect,” he assures, voice strained. “Use your tongue more. Swirl it.” I do, lapping at the underside, bobbing shallowly. He praises me constantly—“Good girl, so warm… fuck, your mouth”—his words fueling me. I take him deeper, about halfway, my jaw starting to ache already from the unfamiliar stretch. But I push on, wanting to please him, hollowing my cheeks as I suck.

Eddie’s head falls back against the rock, moans spilling out. “Shit, baby, you’re a natural.” His fingers tighten in my hair, guiding lightly, not forcing. I glance up, seeing his face contorted in pleasure—brows furrowed, lips parted. It spurs me, and I try to go faster, deeper, but after a few minutes, the ache in my jaw intensifies, sharp and persistent. My movements slow, and I pull off with a pop, gasping a little, massaging my cheek.

“Eddie,” I say softly, looking up at him apologetically. “My jaw… it’s starting to hurt.”

He pouts immediately, that full lower lip jutting out in exaggerated disappointment, his eyes big and pleading like a puppy. “Aww, sweetheart,” he murmurs, sitting up straighter. His thumb reaches out, tracing my swollen lips tenderly, pressing lightly on the bottom one, parting them just a bit. The touch is intimate, suggestive, and I can see the want in his gaze—he’s not done, craves more. “Already? But you feel so good.” His voice is low, coaxing, thumb rubbing back and forth, dipping inside slightly to touch my tongue. “Maybe just a little longer? Or use your hand?”

I shiver at the implication, his pout melting me, but the ache persists. Still, his touch reignites the spark, and I lean into it, nipping his thumb playfully. He groans, eyes darkening further. “See? Tease.” But he doesn’t push, just caresses, waiting for my lead.

After our intimate moment where I tried to please him with my mouth, Eddie pulls me up gently into his lap, his arms wrapping around me like a protective cocoon. The blanket beneath us is warm from the sun, the lagoon’s gentle lapping a soothing backdrop. His cock is still hard against my thigh, but he doesn’t rush; instead, he cups my face, thumbs stroking my cheeks as he looks into my eyes. “You did so good, baby,” he murmurs, his voice low and tender. “Even if your jaw hurts. We can take it slow.” Internally, I’m a whirlwind—disappointed I couldn’t finish, but thrilled by his reaction, the way his touch lingers on my lips, thumb pressing softly as if memorizing their shape. God, he makes me feel wanted, not inadequate.

He leans in, capturing my mouth in a soft kiss, lips moving slowly, coaxing mine to part. It’s sweet at first, tasting of us both, his tongue tracing mine with unhurried care. My hands find his shoulders, fingers digging into the warm skin, feeling the play of muscles beneath. As the kiss deepens, his hand slides down my side, over my hip, to rest between my thighs. “Let me touch you again,” he whispers against my lips. “Make you feel good while we kiss.” I nod, breathless, my body already responding to the idea.

His fingers part my folds gently, finding my clit with ease—swollen and sensitive from earlier. He rubs in slow, circular motions, light pressure that sends sparks shooting through me. Oh god, the pleasure is immediate, a warm tingle that spreads from my core outward, making my toes curl. It’s like electricity, but softer, building layer by layer. I moan into his mouth, and he smiles against me. “That’s it, sweetheart. Feel that? You’re so wet for me already.” His words encourage me, easing the nervousness bubbling inside—am I ready for more? But this feels right, safe.

We kiss deeper now, his tongue exploring as his finger keeps that steady rhythm on my clit. Pleasure coils tight in my belly, a delicious ache that makes me rock against his hand instinctively. Internally, I’m amazed—how does he know exactly where to touch? Each circle heightens the sensation, like waves lapping higher on a shore, warm and insistent. “You’re doing amazing,” he breathes, pulling back to kiss my jaw, my neck. “Love how responsive you are. Every little sound you make… fuck, it’s perfect.” His free hand cups my breast, thumb flicking my nipple in time with his rubs, connecting the pleasures, making my whole body hum.

I gasp, arching into him, the friction on my clit intensifying as he applies a bit more pressure. It’s exquisite—sharp yet soothing, pleasure bordering on overwhelm but never crossing it. My hips buck slightly, chasing more, and he chuckles softly. “Eager, huh? Good girl. Let it build.” His encouragement melts my doubts; I feel cherished, not judged. Kissing him again, I pour my growing need into it, tongues tangling as his finger dips lower occasionally, gathering wetness to slick over my clit anew.

Time stretches; we’re lost in this, his touch patient, my pleasure mounting like a slow-burning fire. Internal thoughts race: This is what I’ve dreamed of, but better—real, with him. The ache deepens, a throbbing need that makes me clench around nothing. “Eddie,” I whimper, breaking the kiss. He nuzzles my ear. “I know, baby. You’re close again, aren’t you? Come for me like this.” His rubs quicken just a fraction, and the orgasm crashes over me—waves of bliss pulsing from my clit through my limbs, leaving me trembling in his arms.

As I come down, panting, he holds me close, kissing my forehead. “Beautiful,” he murmurs. “So fucking beautiful when you come.” His cock twitches against me, a reminder of his own need, but he waits, patient. Internally, the afterglow makes me bold—I want him, all of him. “Eddie… I want more. I want you inside me.” My voice is shy, but certain. He searches my eyes. “You sure? Your first time… I want it to be perfect.” I nod. “With you, it will be.”

He lays me back on the blanket gently, positioning himself between my legs. “We’ll go slow,” he promises, his hands roaming my body—worshipping my breasts, my stomach, my thighs. “Tell me if it hurts or you want to stop.” He rubs his cock against my folds first, coating himself in my wetness, the head nudging my clit and sending aftershocks of pleasure. Oh, that feels incredible—hot, hard, teasing the sensitive bundle until I’m squirming.

Finally, he lines up at my entrance, the tip pressing in just barely. “Breathe, sweetheart,” he says softly, one hand on my hip, the other bracing beside my head. He pushes in slowly, inch by inch, stretching me. There’s pressure, a slight burn as my body adjusts to the fullness—it’s new, intense, but not unbearable. Pleasure mingles with it, the way he fills me sparking nerves I didn’t know existed. Internally: God, he’s big, but it feels right, like puzzle pieces fitting. I wince a little, and he pauses immediately. “You okay? We can stop.”

“No,” I breathe. “Keep going. It feels… good.” He nods, kissing me deeply as he slides deeper, the kiss distracting from the stretch. When he’s fully in, he stills, letting me acclimate. The fullness is overwhelming—pleasure radiating from where we’re joined, a deep throb that makes me clench around him. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he groans, forehead against mine. “Feels amazing. You’re doing so well.”

He starts moving then, slow thrusts out and back in, each one building the pleasure. At first, it’s a mix—discomfort fading into bliss as my body relaxes. His hand slips between us, thumb finding my clit again, rubbing in gentle circles. “There we go,” he encourages. “Focus on that. Let it feel good.” The dual sensation is mind-blowing—the slide of him inside, hitting spots that send jolts of ecstasy, combined with the clit stimulation. Pleasure builds exponentially, warm waves crashing higher.

I moan, legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper. “Eddie… oh god.” He grins, thrusting a bit firmer but still controlled. “That’s my girl. Taking me so perfectly. You feel incredible around me.” His words fuel the fire; internally, I’m soaring— this is what losing my virginity should be, tender and passionate. Each thrust rubs against that inner spot, pleasure spiking like fireworks, making my toes curl.

As rhythm builds, sweat slicks our skin, the lagoon’s breeze cooling us. His mouth finds my neck, sucking gently, adding layers of sensation. “Love your body,” he whispers. “So soft, so mine.” The pleasure intensifies—deep, pulsing, every nerve alight. I’m climbing toward another peak, faster now, his thumb relentless on my clit. “Come with me, baby,” he urges, thrusts quickening. The orgasm hits like a tidal wave, clenching around him, bliss exploding outward. He follows, groaning as he spills inside, the warmth adding to my ecstasy.

We collapse together, breathless, his weight comforting. “You were perfect,” he murmurs, kissing me softly. The pleasure lingers, a satisfied glow.

As the afterglow settles over us like a warm blanket, Eddie holds me close, his chest rising and falling in sync with mine. The sun dips lower, casting golden hues across the lagoon, turning the water into a shimmering mirror of the sky. My body feels deliciously spent—sore in the best way, a deep satisfaction humming through every limb from where he took my virginity so gently, so perfectly. Internally, I’m floating: That was everything I imagined and more. His cock inside me, the stretch turning to bliss, his thumb on my clit pushing me over the edge—it’s etched in me now, a secret fire.

Eddie kisses my temple softly, his lips lingering. “You were incredible, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice husky with emotion. “How do you feel?” I smile up at him, tracing a tattoo on his chest. “Amazing. A little sticky, though.” He chuckles, that deep rumble vibrating against me. “Yeah, we made a mess. Let’s clean up.” He pulls out slowly, and I wince at the emptiness, a trickle of our combined release following. He notices, his eyes softening. “Easy there. I’ve got you.”

He helps me sit up, then stands, offering his hand. Naked and unashamed, he leads me to the lagoon’s edge. The water is cool as we wade in up to our waists, the gentle current washing away the evidence of our passion. Eddie dips his hands in, cupping water to pour over my shoulders, rivulets trailing down my breasts. “God, even now, you’re stunning,” he says, his gaze worshipful. His fingers follow the water, tracing my curves—over my nipples, which pebble under his touch, down my stomach to between my thighs. He cleans me gently, fingers parting my folds with care, rinsing away the stickiness. Pleasure flickers again, soft and residual, making me sigh.

“You’re so sensitive,” he whispers, smiling as I shiver. “Love taking care of you like this.” Internally: His touch is reverent, like I’m a goddess; it makes the soreness fade, replaced by a tender warmth. I return the favor, my hands on his chest, then lower, washing his cock—still semi-hard, velvety under the water. He groans quietly, eyes half-lidded. “Your hands… magic.” We splash each other lightly, laughter bubbling up, turning the cleanup into play. Under the waterfall, he backs me against a rock again, kissing me as water cascades over us, his body pressed close. “Clean and mine,” he murmurs between kisses.

We wade out eventually, the air chilling our wet skin. Eddie grabs a towel from his backpack—thoughtful as always—and dries me off slowly, patting my arms, legs, lingering on my breasts and ass with playful squeezes. “Can’t resist,” he teases. I dry him too, tracing his tattoos, feeling the lean muscles flex under my touch. Dressed now—me in my bra, panties, shorts, and shirt; him in boxers, jeans, tee—we pack the picnic remnants. The blanket folds neatly, sandwiches wrappers tucked away. “Leave no trace,” Eddie says, scanning the spot. “Keep our secret paradise pristine.”

With the backpack slung over his shoulder, he takes my hand. “Ready to head back?” I nod, a pang of reluctance hitting me—this place feels like ours now, marked by our intimacy. The trail descends easier than the ascent, gravity aiding our steps. My legs are wobbly from earlier exertions, but Eddie steadies me, his arm around my waist at tricky spots. “Take it easy, beautiful. No rush.” The forest envelops us again, sunlight filtering through leaves in dappled patterns. Birds sing, and the air smells of pine and earth, fresh and alive.

As we hike, conversation flows—light at first, about the lagoon’s beauty, then deeper. “Today was perfect,” I say, squeezing his hand. He stops us under a canopy, pulling me close for a kiss. “Because of you,” he replies, forehead against mine. His free hand slips under my shirt, tracing my spine, sending shivers. “Can’t stop touching you.” Pleasure sparks anew, a low hum from his proximity. Internally: Even walking, he worships—his eyes on me like I’m the only thing that matters.

The path winds down, rocks crunching underfoot. We pause at the overlook from earlier, Hawkins sprawling below, now bathed in late afternoon light. Eddie sits on the log, pulling me onto his lap. “One more moment,” he murmurs, nuzzling my neck. His hands roam—over my thighs, up to cup my breast through my shirt, thumb circling my nipple until it hardens. “Still so responsive,” he whispers. I moan softly, grinding against him instinctively, feeling him harden beneath me. The pleasure is teasing, a build without release, making my core ache sweetly.

But we continue, the descent quicker. My mind replays the day: the hike up, picnic feeds, swim in underwear, his mouth on me, my attempt at pleasing him, then the profound connection of him inside. Soreness between my legs reminds me, a badge of our bond. Eddie points out wildlife—a deer in the distance, wildflowers blooming. “Nature’s artwork,” he says. At a stream crossing, he lifts me over, strong arms making me feel weightless. “My princess,” he jokes, but his eyes say more.

As the trail levels, town edges appear. Eddie slows, turning to me. “Don’t want this to end.” I agree, pulling him into a final kiss amid the trees—deep, lingering, his tongue dancing with mine, hands fisting my hair. Pleasure floods, warm and familiar. We emerge hand in hand, the adventure sealing us closer.

…𐦐

[saintlike05]

Absolute perfection 💗😩

[stricatul]

Kinda rude how it's perfect cuddle weather and I'm not getting any cuddles.

[saintlike05]

In need of a sloppy make out session with Steve Harrington

[bruisedsoupp-deactivated2026020]

ok so i lit need him to talk me through it NOW

[slashergirlnancy]

Steve Harrington // Lucas Sinclair STRANGER THINGS

[kassy-djomunson]

joe keery as steve harrington in season 4 bts hits different

[saintlike05]

Ugh he so scrumptious ❤️