#they hide out in the woods together!!

[deafenedsaltwater]

Finished..

Alt version under cut

[kazoosandfannypacks]

1989 is so ScarletQueen coded and I will die on this hill.

[anitalianfrie]

Me at sixteen core ahahahah (about to end it)

[rottengurlz]

I decided to start the alien romance but I’m also going to be starting a dowry of blood by s.t. gibson so I can get the best of both worlds alien freaks and bi vampires <3

[bleeding-hart]

all this stuff about black cat/orange cat, black cat/golden retriever. What about orange cat/golden retriever.

[luna-azzurra]

How To Write A Chase Scene

Before anyone takes off running, the reader needs to know why this matters. The chase can’t just be about two people running, it’s gotta have a reason. Is your hero sprinting for their life because the villain has a knife? Or maybe they’re chasing someone who just stole something valuable, and if they don’t catch them, it’s game over for everyone. Whatever the reason, make it clear early on. The higher the stakes, the more the reader will care about how this chase plays out. They’ll feel that surge of panic, knowing what’s on the line.

Sure, a chase scene is fast, people are running, dodging, maybe even falling. But not every second needs to be at full speed. If it’s too frantic from start to finish, the reader might get numb to the action. Instead, throw in some rhythm. Use quick, sharp sentences when things get intense, like someone stumbling or almost getting caught. But then slow it down for a second. Maybe they hit a dead end or pause to look around. Those brief moments of slow-down add suspense because they feel like the calm before the storm kicks up again.

Don’t let the setting just be a backdrop. The world around them should become a part of the chase. Maybe they’re tearing through a marketplace, dodging carts and knocking over tables, or sprinting down alleyways with trash cans crashing behind them. If they’re running through the woods, you’ve got low-hanging branches, roots, slippery mud, and the constant threat of tripping. Describing the environment makes the scene more vivid, but it also adds layers of tension. It’s not just two people running in a straight line, it’s two people trying to navigate through chaos.

Running isn’t easy, especially when you’re running for your life. This isn’t some smooth, graceful sprint where they look cool the whole time. Your character’s lungs should be burning, their legs aching, maybe their side starts to cramp. They’re gasping for air, barely holding it together. These details will remind the reader that this chase is taking a real toll. And the harder it gets for your character to keep going, the more the tension ramps up because the reader will wonder if they’ll actually make it.

Don’t make it too easy. The villain should almost catch your hero or the hero should almost grab the villain. But something happens last second to change the outcome. Maybe the villain’s fingers brush the hero’s coat as they sprint around a corner, but they manage to slip out of reach just in time. Or maybe your hero almost gets close enough to tackle the villain, but slips on some gravel, losing precious seconds.

And Don’t let the chase end in a way that feels too predictable. Whether your character gets away or is caught, it should be because of something clever. Maybe they spot a hiding place that’s almost impossible to notice, or they use their surroundings to mislead their pursuer. Or, the person chasing them pulls a fast one, Laying a trap, cutting off their escape route, or sending the hero down the wrong path. You want the end to feel earned, like it took quick thinking and ingenuity, not just dumb luck or fate.

[dmitriene]

simon riley has a home, not a particularly big house in quiet neighborhood, a place where he doesn't wears his gear and doesn't has a knife pocketed at his thigh, where he doesn't hides under another identity, remaining just simon, a sated man with a sweet wife and a chubby baby at his hip, a civilian life he's so desperately tried to seek and that you gifted him.

home with a bright, spacious kitchen where you stood each morning together, with simon's hefty form cloaking you from behind, thick hands trailing under the satin of your nightie, bunching the fabric on your front, where you're pressed against the wood of the kitchen counter, your cat walking on top, before meowing lightly and jumping off onto the floor, knowing that it's best for her to leave you two to be, furling into another room through half opened door.

baby sleeping in the crib, peacefully, a soft lulling melody wafting through the chilly air of the room that keeps your girl sleeping tight, door closed slightly to muffle any possible sounds from disturbing her sleep, your mellowy sounds that slip past your parted lips when simon teases his thick fingers against your sopping folds, cupping your warm pussy beneath the cotton of your panties, swiping across your slit and gathering the oozing slick there.

a family, the one simon would protect with everything he has, to keep you, his sweet wife, always by his side, with your pretty finger adorned by the sparkly, wedding ring that matches his, cooling against your swollen clit where he can't stop teasing you, spreading your folds to the morning air, dripping wet and taking every inch of his girthy cock gracefully, spasming around the girth he feeds you, squeezed tight in your thin, gummy walls.

muffling your hiccuping cries, simon's hips bouncing against your ass, squeezed in his rough palm through the fabric of your nightie, fat supple and spilling from his fingers, as his heavy balls press and slap against your folds, drippy with your slick and his tacky precome, matting the tangle of fuzzed curls of hair on his pelvic and meaty thighs, muscles tensing with webbing heat in his soft belly, rolls of skin rubbing against the small of your back, as he folds himself over you.

he kisses the molassed whimpers from your lips with his searing mouth, pummels into your pussy when your gooey walls flutter and clench, rippling, stuffed full of the thick girth that grinds against your small, sens spot and makes you claw painfully at the wood of the counter, simon's hand gathering your wrist, tying them together by his fingers, the same that currently flick across the small bundle of your nerves, swollen, full of pumping blood, when you cry out loud in the soft furl of his lips.

your darling girl still asleep, cat curled against her small form, tail draped over her slowly breathing body and prolonging her sleep, unable to hear the heavy breaths coming out from the kitchen and the breathy giggles simon completes to devour off from your lips, with his clashing teeth's and greedy tongue, despite your panties being sodden and his cum trailing down the underside of your doughy thighs in viscous, glistening globs.

a home, with a smell of fresh breakfast curling and dissolving into the air of the room, as you stand behind the stove, watching the two sizzling pans as simon busies himself in helping your baby brush her teeth, cradling her against his chest, as she babbles groggily, already all over his ears, as he chuckles hoarsely, bundling her against the bend of his elbow, walking back to the kitchen with a cat meowing at his feet, hungry too.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[thriftedtchotchkes]

how do you sleep?

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: joel's always there to comfort you with his words and a warm bed after a nightmare, but tonight, you need a little more

warnings: 18+ MDNI, jackson era, soft!joel, comfort, undefined relationship, getting together, mentions of nightmares & insomnia, smut, unprotected piv, slow/intimate sex, creampie

word count: 3.3k

“Whas’wrong?”

You didn't mean to end up here again. It's the third night this week you swiped Joel's key from under the doormat and found yourself standing in his bedroom doorway.

"Can't sleep," you reply, barely above a whisper. Exhaustion seeps into your voice, permeating your limbs the longer you remain standing.

He already knows why you're here. Ever since you, Joel, and Ellie arrived in Jackson and were offered homes of your own, rest evades you more than it ever did on the road. It's too quiet here, and your racing mind fills the silence with the horrors of a life lived in constant fear.

You know you're safe now. You know that, but it's not enough to convince your body or quell the ever-present tightness in your chest telling you to run, to hide. Your fears are more potent in the dark, and the shadows creeping from wall to wall have sharper edges. Teeth that threaten to tear you apart and rip away everything and everyone you've fought so hard to protect.

The walls and floorboards creak with life that shouldn't be present in an empty, two-story home—too big for a single person, and yet still yours—and quickly begin to sound like impending death.

Nowadays, more often than not, you seek out a different kind of shelter. The familiar, comforting embrace of the man who kept you warm and protected through harsh winters and from monsters prowling in the night. That's where you belong.

Crisp bedsheets rustle in the dark and then you hear Joel pat the mattress twice—an invitation to occupy the space beside him, the one he always leaves empty just in case.

"Well, c'mon then. Hurry up," he grumbles, still half-asleep. But he isn’t frustrated. He's tired, just like you, and he'll probably sleep a lot better knowing both of his girls are resting soundly under his roof.

You trudge over and waste no time burying your face in his bare chest, breathing in pine and cedar wood shavings before exhaling a heavy sigh of relief. Throwing a leg over his thighs, you mold into him, rubbing your cheek into coarse curls and marveling at the calm, steady rhythm beneath you.

It feels good to be home. You're not sure why you let Maria give you an entire house to yourself when everything you could ever want or need was right across the street. Every time you end up back here, you wonder. And every time you leave, you wish you'd stayed.

He wraps you up in his arms and tugs you into his side, murmuring your name with soft lips that tenderly caress your forehead. They're so warm, just like the rest of him, and you find yourself aching to feel them on yours. It's a line neither of you have ever crossed, but tonight's been rough.

For what felt like days, you were forced to watch as your worst nightmares came to bloody fruition. You were dragged through the most brutal outcomes of events you already survived and could do nothing more than pray you'd wake up soon. When you finally came to and checked the clock, it had only been an hour and a half since you'd passed out. The moon was still high in the sky, taunting you with the promise of more. More dread, endless brutality.

Joel can make all of that go away, if only for a few hours. He always does, but tonight...you don't want to talk about it tonight. You don't want to think about it, about anything at all. You just want him.

You'd feel selfish asking for more if there wasn't already something between you. Something nurtured and gradual that's been building for months, beginning on your travels across the country and coming to an unignorable head here in Jackson.

Back then, it was stolen glances while you bathed together in streams and fleeting touches in your shared sleeping bag under star-filled skies. It's more intimate these days. He holds your hand when you're anxious, and you kiss away the frown lines and frustrated wrinkles that mar his skin.

Every day, you skirt the line between platonic companionship and whatever's starting to simmer below the surface. You're scared to hope he feels it too, but the thought of remaining in this undefined middle ground scares you even more.

The furnace drifting in and out of consciousness next to you radiates with an addictive heat you've told yourself to ignore for a long time, but it's quickly becoming an impossible feat. Pressed into his side, you're trying and failing not to writhe against him. But he's starting to notice.

His hips jerk every time your core drags against his bare thigh, a slow, repetitive grind you really shouldn't continue, but feels so fucking good combined with the slick pooling between your legs. You should stop—really, you should—but his breathing's changing and hitching, catching in his throat every time the growing tent in his boxers meets the friction of your inner thigh.

Then, he gasps something cognizant and urgent, and you know you've been caught. His hand snakes down to your ass and traps you against his side with a grip so firm, plush skin spills between his fingers.

“Woah, hold on there," he breathes out heavily, and his gaze drops to yours curiously. His eyes are wide open and alert, shining with the faint reflection of moonlight streaming through an adjacent window. Bright and yet pitch black as his sleep-addled brain struggles to catch up with his body. "What's goin' on with you tonight?"

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, debating whether or not to ask for his help. His expression is gentle but otherwise unreadable, and there's a chance this could go very, very badly. Maybe you'd be better off apologizing, but you don't want to. You're not sorry for needing him.

And the longer he waits for an answer, the more his body convinces you that he wants the same things you do. His hand is still on your ass, kneading as he urges you to rock into him, but he doesn't seem to realize he's doing it. Then, his thigh flexes and a rush of wetness coats your already soaked underwear. His expression falters, and you know he can feel it.

His voice is tighter when he speaks again, but that tinge of concern is still there. He wants to make it all better, but he can't unless you tell him how. Your hand tenses where it lies on his chest, and he covers it with his own.

"What can I do? Just tell me how to help you—whatever it is, I'll do it," he murmurs, brushing his thumb reassuringly across your skin. You tilt your chin up and suddenly you're close enough to breathe his air. Closer than you've ever been and yet still not close enough.

"I need you to...," Fuck me. But it sounds too crude. A quick fuck isn't what you need right now. You need to be full of him, to hold him deep inside you and keep him there for as long as this night will allow. "...make me feel safe again."

"Tell me how," he repeats as you struggle to bite back a moan. He's working you against him intentionally now, encouraging you up and down his leg, and it's making your brain go a little haywire. "What do you need, baby?"

"Joel," you whine at the endearment, an intense heat building at the apex of your thighs. That's new. You want to hear him say it again, to devour every word as he buries himself inside you over and over. You will him to understand. "I need you."

He sucks in a harsh breath through his teeth, steeling himself before nosing into the hairs at your temple. The gesture is so tender and affectionate even as he bucks into your thigh, and it's painfully obvious how hard you're making him. He nods slowly and plants a soft kiss on your forehead, his chest rising and falling more rapidly than before.

"Okay, baby. I got you," he murmurs, his lips trailing down to your eyelids, then the apple of your cheek. "I'll make it all go away, alright? M'gonna take care of you."

And you believe him. He rolls you onto your back and you gasp as his entire weight presses you into the mattress. It's more than just comforting. You feel protected. He's shielding you from this horrible, broken world, somehow managing to prove that there's still goodness to be found. And it's on top of you, broad and strong, and wanting you just as badly as you want him.

Big hands cup your cheeks and his lips meet yours, so much different than the familiar press against your forehead or the top of your head. You're in unknown territory, but he guides you carefully and moves slowly, taking the time to explore and savor. The taste of spearmint begins to overwhelm your senses as the kiss deepens, and you lick into his mouth impatiently, already craving more.

But after years of quiet observation, Joel knows better than anyone how to temper you. Ducking down to bury his face in your neck, he kisses along the underside of your jaw, regaining control of the pace with a sharp, halting suck. And while he refuses to let your urgency rush him, he still allows your hands to roam his skin and tug at his boxers, letting you take what you want—like his only goal is to make sure this lasts long enough for him to fulfill his promise.

A disgruntled groan bubbles in your throat, and you feel him chuckle. "Y'know, patience is supposed to be a virtue," he mumbles, amused, his beard scratchy and grounding against your skin. You huff in response.

Tonight doesn't feel like a night for virtues. Not when things are finally changing in your favor. After so much time, so much running, you actually have somewhere to go—and stay. You're not running away anymore. You're moving towards something that feels real, and dependable, and safe, and you're doing it together. And now that you're so close you can taste it, you're done waiting.

"You're really gonna start caring about virtues now?" you ask skeptically, slipping your hands past the waistband of his boxers to grab his ass.

He hesitates, then huffs out a quiet laugh. "Fair enough."

And with that, you both know the time for talking is over. Something shifts and you're on the same page, ready to take as much as the other is willing to give.

Joel begins to drag your shirt up to reveal more, but suddenly feeling stifled, you take over and remove it completely. The look on his face makes it more than worth it. It's not the first time he's seen you naked, but as his eyes rake over your bare curves, it feels like it could be. Reverently, he returns his lips to yours, kissing you deeply before charting a path lower.

His mouth feels hot as he laves and nips across your collarbone, and he shimmies further down the bed until he's just barely ghosting the swell of your breasts. You gasp, burying your fingers in his hair as he sucks a bruise below your nipple and soothes the sting with his tongue. Licking a wide stripe past the darkening mark, he captures the bud between his teeth, another hand sliding up your stomach to cup your other breast while he alternates between swirling and sucking.

Your entire body feels like it's on fire. The ache between your thighs worsens the longer he continues, but instead of squeezing them together for relief, you wrap your legs around his waist and tug him onto you. By now, you're so wet, there's no way you're not soaking right through your underwear and into his boxers, and you hope he can feel it. If your increasing volume isn't enough of an indication that you need him inside you, then maybe this will be.

He lets out a pained groan into your chest, and you clench in satisfaction. He immediately grinds down, thrusting into you like he's forgotten about the layers of clothing still separating you. You don't bother to remind him.

Bucking him off, you quickly wrench down your underwear then reach for his, yanking them off while he sheds his t-shirt. Your fingers close around his cock before his shirt hits the floor and he startles before melting into your grip, eyes fluttering shut and lips parting around a cross between a sigh and the neediest whine you've ever heard.

You feel that telltale whoosh between your legs again, and after pumping him a few times, you guide him toward your entrance. In the back of your mind, you know you're taking a risk without a condom. You should be safer, more responsible. But it's Joel. It's always been Joel.

His eyes shoot open once he realizes where you're leading him, but you only bite your lip and nod, your expression uncharacteristically vulnerable. An unspoken agreement passes between you, a quiet understanding cultivated through years of friendship and now something more. Then, he presses inside and your mind goes blissfully blank.

No more horrors, no more fear. Just Joel keeping his promise and doing exactly what you trusted him to do. He encompasses you entirely, pressing the length of his body flush against yours as he works himself into you. The stretch was nothing you ever could've anticipated, but it grounds you in the present moment. It's everything you told yourself not to hope for when you showed up on his doorstep tonight.

His movements are slow but powerful, and he rests his forehead on yours, eyes alert and acutely aware of every change in expression. The intensity of his gaze and the slick sound of him burying himself to the hilt should make you self-conscious—it's all you can see and hear, but that's the point, isn't it? To get lost in the way he drags so perfectly against your walls and grinds his hips into yours on every thrust, slow and steady.

He's attentive, cataloging whenever he makes you moan a little louder or your eyes roll, and repeats it again and again until you're writhing underneath him. Your nails rake down his back and scratch at his scalp, and he jerks forward whenever you're a little too rough, hitting so deep, it feels like he's grazing your cervix. But the longer he continues to give you everything you want, the more his body trembles with the effort of holding himself back.

You know Joel, and you can tell when he's resisting an urge. His biceps tense where he's propped on his forearms, bracketing your head, and there's so little space between you, you can feel his abs flexing every time he plunges back inside you. He needs more and you want to give it to him.

Lifting your head, you bridge the tiny gap to meet his lips. "Joel, c'mon. You can fuck me harder than that, I'm not gonna break," you mumble between open-mouthed kisses. That catches him off guard.

He accidentally lets himself go for a thrust or two, and you're cut off by a moan, your walls squeezing him so hard, it's painful. Somehow, you manage to recover just long enough to gasp out the rest. "It's okay if you need something from me, too. Just take it. I trust you."

For an agonizing moment, Joel pauses to observe you, waiting for something in your eyes to contradict the permission you just gave him. But when he doesn't find it, he shakily exhales the breath he'd been holding and his head drops to your shoulder. The groan that follows rumbles so deeply in his chest, it makes your stomach drop. Then, without warning, his hands are gripping your thighs and he's rutting into you like a caged animal finally set free.

There he is. The man who never hesitated to gun down anyone who threatened the safety of his loved ones and did whatever it took to bring his girls home.

Recognition washes over you and fills you with a familiar feeling of security. It's something only Joel has ever been able to give you. You wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face into his hair, hoping to return even a fraction of that feeling.

As he gives into his body, he starts to ramble, his words muffled and lost to your delicate skin. But you don't need to hear him to know what he's saying. With every thrust, the bed frame rattles and gets the message across loud and clear. Your heels dig into his back, encouraging him forward, begging him to keep going, and he obliges, quickly reduced to helpless grunts and curses.

The room gets increasingly hotter and more humid, and the cool air flowing through the window isn't nearly enough to provide relief, but neither of you seems to care. You're a little in love with the way your bodies slip together, sweat and slick intermingling seamlessly.

Everything is so wet, and it feels incredible—your skin against his, your walls pulsing around his cock. He's molding into you, so close that you can't do much more than swivel your hips into his, and it's sending you hurtling toward the edge faster than you can fully process. The coarse hair at the base of his cock rubs your clit just right, and when he adjusts the angle to fuck you deeper than before, you hit your peak.

You dissolve into a whimpering mess beneath him, desperately riding out your orgasm as he groans and abruptly bites down on your shoulder. Releasing your legs to grab your waist, he forces himself impossibly further inside you and grinds into your spasming walls until he's coming with you. He gasps his way through it, stilling while he lets you milk him dry, then collapses on top of you and gathers you in his arms.

For a while, you both struggle to catch your breath. The mattress is bare save for the fitted sheet, your clothes, pillows, and blankets having been kicked or tossed onto the floor. It feels nice like this—to savor the winter air cooling your bodies and to just be held. Without letting you go, Joel lifts his head to kiss the teeth marks he left on your shoulder apologetically and then shifts higher to press his lips against the underside of your jaw.

"You alright?" he asks gently, his voice a little gruffer than usual from the exertion.

"Mhm," you hum, nosing into his temple. "More than." He sighs and almost sounds relieved.

The thought makes your heart ache. If he's worried he crossed a line, well. He did. You both did, but it was a long time coming and you don't regret a thing. You squeeze him a little tighter as if to tell him, and he allows himself to melt into you briefly. Then, he draws back to cup your cheek and guide your lips to his.

He kisses you slowly, taking the time to appreciate the sensation of your mouth against his without any urgency. "Feel better?" he murmurs after reluctantly parting from you. You keep him close.

"I don't think we have to worry about any more nightmares tonight," you reply with a small smile. He returns it, eyes crinkling fondly, then rolls you onto your sides to settle in for a good night's sleep.

As you start to drift off, you hear him chuckle and mutter something under his breath that you don't quite catch. But it sounds a lot like, "Might be time for you to finally move in."

thanks for reading!

[monstersflashlight]

Commission for @vgilantee

A/N: Thank you so much for your commission! This was so fun to write, I hope you enjoy it! <3

Request: may i please get a big big werewolf and fem!reader fucking big nasty style 🫣🤭 feral, animalistic, and nasty. maybe after some predator/prey rp in the woods, but honestly free reign. go crazy ^^

“Don’t run”

Werewolf x fem!reader || size kink, predator/prey, chasing, biting, knotting, lowkey breeding

You had been living with your werewolf boyfriend for a couple weeks when the first full moon arrives. In the two years you’ve been together, he always made plans with his pack during the full moon, of that’s what he told you. Apparently he didn’t trust himself around you, so he barricaded himself in his basement and waited it out. He built a werewolf-proof cage and tied himself with some big metal chains to keep himself on check.

You are sure it wouldn’t be that bad, there’s no way he would hurt you, even with the full moon. Or maybe you were wrong.

Now, when he insists on you tying him up and leaving some of your clothes with him, you comply. He says your scent calms his beast, and that way it would be harder for him to escape. You two are so sure everything would be okay that you don’t double check the restrains. First mistake of the night.

You are lazily lying around upstairs when you hear the first crack. It sounds like thunder, but the night outside is clear, not a single cloud in the sky. You get down to the first floor and look around, nothing seems out of place, maybe some animal outside broke some tree or something. You don’t question it too deeply. Second mistake of the night.

When you heard another crack, this time a lot louder, you decide to go inspect the basement. You get to the door at the same time as he does.

The door is on the floor, completely broken, and his face is the one of a predator. Adrenaline and fear fuel your body as you move slowly to the door, feeling like the prey you just became. You two were so sure everything was going to be alright that you didn’t talk what to do if this happened. You are on your own, and he’s a full transformed werewolf looking at you like you are his next meal.Oh fuck.

“Don’t run,” he says, his voice too gravely, too deep, more monster than human. You breathe hard, looking between the door and him. He growls, a warning. But you were never the one to take good choices.

You know it’s not a good idea. You know it’s probably the worst idea ever, but you are scared and your heart is beating too fast and too loud for you to listen to whatever your brain is saying. You shouldn’t run, but your fear is louder than reason. You look at him, completely transformed, and turn on your heels, bolting for the forest.

You know you aren’t supposed to run away from a predator, but you do it either way. Probably the third mistake of the night and the one that condemns you.

You hear his howl behind you as you start to run, your body forcing itself to exhaustion really fast. But you don’t stop, you keep pushing yourself faster, trying to look for a place to hide. You can’t find any, but you are plenty aware that it wouldn’t matter. Once he catches you, he will be completely mad, feral. He will be too animalistic to understand who you are.

You ran and ran, your breathing fast and labored, taking too much of your already low energy. You don’t know what to do, where to go, you are lost in the forest and there’s a predator on your heels.

You can hear him behind you, following you, but not catching you just yet. He’s playing with you, he could catch you easily, you aren’t that fast or see that well in the dark. But he doesn’t want the fun to end, he’s enjoying the smell of your fear, the taste of your desire under it. He’s toying with you. He’s toying with his prey. And that makes your adrenaline to spike and your pussy to tingle.

Maybe you are a bit fucked up in the head, maybe you are enjoying it more than you should. You never knew you liked it a bit rough until you knew him, it shouldn’t be a surprise that you love him chasing you. You feel like red riding hood and he’s the wolf out to catch you… And that excites you.

You keep running as your pussy gets wetter. The noises and howls he makes behind you adding to the fire burning inside of you until you feel you were going to melt completely.

And then there’s silence…

Nothing around you, not a single sound apart from your breathing and rabbit-fast heart. And then you see a shadow in the corner of your eye. He throws you to the ground, face down, and covers your body with his. He’s so big and so heavy your breath escapes your lungs. You scream as he bites down on the side of your neck, right over your mating bond. He holds you down with his teeth as you struggle under him, unable to move more than a few millimeters.

He growls in warning and starts tearing your clothes. The air is cold against your heated skin, and his claws feel too sharp, but you can’t ignore the edge of pleasure as he touches your body. He doesn’t wait long, he licks at the new mark on your neck as he touches your soaking wet pussy, humming in contentment. He pinches your clit between his claws and you moan loudly, embarrassed that you make that unholy sound.

He pushes your head down with his other paw as you feel the tip of his dick against your pussy. He’s there for just a second before he’s all the way inside of you. He doesn't let you breathe, he fucks you like a piston, his dick caressing every part inside of you, so big he’s hitting your cervix as you scream with every thrust. The edge of pain is adding to your pleasure to the point of insanity.

You are drooling on the forest floor as a beast growls and fucks you raw. You don’t know how much of your boyfriend is aware of what it’s happening, of what he’s doing… He’s just a big monster and you are a hot hole to fill. In and out, in and out, the pace so fast and so savage that your body moves with his thrusts, your hands and knees getting scratched against the dirt. And you love it.

It feels depraved to be feeling so good being treated so roughly. But deep down you know your boyfriend is somewhere inside of the beast, there’s a part of him behind you. And a big part of him hitting your G-spot with every thrust. You reach down and touch your clit, rubbing frantically as he keeps fucking you. Your face is against the floor and your tongue tastes like grass, but the delicious friction of your fingers against your pussy make you see stars.

You feel your orgasm approaching as some of your juices gush around his dick. He stills for a second and then you feel the big engorgement at the base of his dick pushing against your stretched hole. You cry out as he pushed it in, zero caress, zero worries for your well-being, only the need to be inside of you. To breed you. And you are loving every single second of his feral side ravaging you.

His knot finally slips inside, stretching you so wide that it brings tears to your eyes as you orgasm once again. He doesn’t care what is happening with you, he keeps grinding his knot against your G-spot, milking his own pleasure and accidentally making yours ascend to the next plane. You orgasm again as he howls to the moon and fills you with rope after rope of warm come.

You feel every little twitch of his dick inside you as he keeps coming, and coming, and coming. And you keep gushing around him, completely spent. Your eyes are heavy and your body is limp, at his mercy. The last thought you have before you pass out is how dying like that would be a good way to go.

You wake up on a comfy bed with your werewolf boyfriend next to you. He’s back to human form, and your body feels like a big bruise. You wince when you try to face him and he grunts. “I told you not to run,” he tells you, worry written all over his face.

“I know…” You whisper, looking at him intensely. The images and pleasure from last night come back to you in waves, making you dizzy as you tell him: “I would do it again.” He smirks at you and kisses you until you forget all about the soreness of your body.

Remember that you can also commission me, info here

[starkeysprincess]

⟢ YOU'RE MINE, NOT HIS

presenting kinktober day 3 ➔︎ stalker!rafe

warnings: DUBCON !! mentions of stalking, harm to minor character, use of restraints + blindfold, praising, oral (f. receiving), fingering, piv, unprotected sex, creampie, & mention of rafe taking pictures word count: 2.1k

kinktober m.list ⟡ rafe m.list

rafe stood in the fifth-level hallway of your apartment complex, digging into his pocket to find the duplicate of your apartment key he had. luckily for him, you were the clumsiest little thing he’d ever seen, having dropped your key one day, which gave him the perfect opportunity to make a copy and slip it back under the doormat in front of your apartment before you realized it was missing. 

he looked to ensure your pesky neighbors weren’t around before inserting the key into the lock and twisting it until he heard a soft ‘click.’ 

the wood floors creaked ever so slightly as his feet carried him throughout your apartment to your bedroom. the smell of your perfume wafted in the air the second he stepped into your bedroom, overtaking his senses and increasing his need for you tenfold. the tips of his fingers traced over the several pictures of you with family and friends that were delicately placed on top of your dresser. 

he hummed to himself, moving around, taking in every little detail of your room as he looked through your things. it was exactly how he had imagined it to be. 

rafe opened your closet, his attention captured by the baby pink dress you had worn the first time he saw you. he remembered how delicate and angelic you looked, like a sweet little lamb. of course, you didn’t know then that the same dress would be the start of his obsession, but he couldn’t help himself, not when you were the definition of perfect. 

he rummaged through your closet, seeking a souvenir to satisfy him. he squatted down and reached his hand into the laundry basket when a tiny lace thong caught his eye. He dipped his head down, taking note of your scent as he sniffed the dainty material. 

rafe quickly stuffed the thong into the pocket of his khakis, and his curiosity peaked at a box pushed far back into the corner of your closet, almost as if you were hiding it. 

“what are you trying to hide, angel?” he muttered to himself, reaching for the box. he removed the lid, licking his lips at the sight of a vibrator, but nothing prepared him for the pile of notes under the toy. rafe took the notes into his hand, flipping through each one, recognizing them as the notes he often left for you, “who knew you were such a naughty little thing? gettin’ off to my letters”. 

rafe’s ears perked when he heard the front door open, the sound of you, and what seemed to be a man’s voice. he quickly closed the box, putting it back where he initially found it before slipping into your closet and shutting it just as you walked in with a man following behind you. 

he looked through the shutters of your closet door, ‘what the hell is he doing here?’ rafe thought, recognizing the mystery man as alex, whom you had gone on a date with a few nights ago. he knew he couldn’t risk getting caught, being forced to stay hidden and watch the scene unfold before him as alex reached into your nightstand drawer, pulling out a fuzzy pair of pink handcuffs with a matching pink blindfold. 

his breath hitched, hearing the handcuffs closing around your wrists, his cock hardening as your soft pants filled the room as alex left open-mouthed kisses along the column of your neck while his fingers pumped in and out of your sopping cunt–god, you sounded so wet, that should be me making you make those sweet sounds. 

his teeth gritted together, his resolve crumbling when alex started to unbuckle his belt. he could no longer watch, quietly stepping out from your closet, closing in on the man standing before him. rafe wrapped his bicep around alex’s throat, putting him in a headlock. alex struggled to fight back the tighter rafe squeezed his throat until his body finally went limp; you were his to touch and please, not alex’s. 

rafe wrapped alex’s belt around his wrists to bind them together before using an article of your clothing to tie around his mouth, gagging him in case he stirred awake. he dragged him to your closet, shoving him into the congested area and shutting the door. 

you, on the other hand, lay on your bed with your wrists cuffed together, looking like a pretty present waiting for him to unwrap. 

as you open your mouth to call out for alex, a small gasp erupts from your throat when you feel his fingers thread through your hair, yanking your head back. you feel soft, plump lips against yours, and you can’t help but think about how different they feel. you ultimately decide to push the thought into your head, eagerly kissing back. 

rafe trailed kisses from your lips to your jaw, burying his face into the crook of your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive flesh as he worked his way down your body. his large palms grasped your thighs, pushing them apart to settle between them, his broad shoulders keeping you spread open. 

he dipped his head down, leaving featherlight kisses on your inner thighs, teeth digging into your skin. his hands planted flat on your upper thighs, holding them down. a shiver ran up your spine, his warm breath ghosting over your core. rafe groans at the sight of your soaked cunt, “been dying to taste you ever since i first saw you”. 

you let out a shaky gasp when his tongue ran through your folds. he licked from the bottom to your clit, flicking his tongue against your clit, pulling the prettiest sounds from you. rafe laid his tongue flat, repeatedly licking up and down your sopping cunt. his thick digits prodded against your entrance, plunging them into you as his mouth found your clit once again, sucking it into his mouth. 

“taste sweeter than I imagined,” he groans, curling his middle and ring fingers, gently stroking that spongy spot inside you. you squirm under him, your hips bucking forward when he quickens the pace of his fingers in time with his mouth, sucking harder on your sensitive bud. 

your brain tried to process his voice and decipher why his choice of words seemed familiar until it dawned on you. you knew those words by heart—having read them from one of the many letters you received that were signed off with a little ‘R.C.’. when you first received the letters, it didn’t take long to put the pieces together and figure out who was behind them. it was none other than rafe cameron, whom you shared a class with last semester. 

you should’ve been terrified that the man between your legs was the man who’d been stalking you for months, but you’ve been fantasizing about what it would be like, and maybe, just maybe, you were a little sick in the head for getting off to his letters. 

“p-please” you stammered, your back arching off the bed, wanting more as you tried to roll your hips against his fingers and mouth. “hm?” rafe hummed against your clit, gently biting down, his tongue flicking over it to soothe the minuscule stinging he caused. 

“please what? can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me.”

“please…need your cock” you whimpered, “please, rafe”. 

rafe felt a sense of pride when his name left your mouth; many nights, he wondered what his name sounded like coming from you, and now he’s gotten to hear it. “smart girl, you knew it was me watching and leaving you all those letters and presents, huh?” he murmured against your soft skin, kissing up your body. 

his lips brush against the shell of your ear, “never knew you were such a dirty girl, you like this, don’t you? like the idea of me taking what i want while you remain helpless?”. you let out a small squeak when you were flipped over onto your stomach, his hands pulling your hips up and keeping your face squished against the mattress, “don’t worry, angel, ‘m gonna give you what you want”. 

he fumbles with the buttons and zipper of his khakis, swiftly pulling them down along with his boxers, his cock springing free and slapping against his stomach. his hands grasp your ankles, yanking your body closer to the edge of your bed, and his knees nudge your thighs, coaxing them to spread.

“spread your legs, baby. let me see what’s mine”. 

he gripped the base of his cock, stroking it a few times and sliding it between your slick folds, coating the head of his cock with your arousal. his fat tip nudges your wanting hole before pushing into your wet cunt, groaning as your walls stretch around him.

“so fuckin’ wet and tight,” he rasps, pushing on the small of your back to keep you down, slowly pulling out before slamming himself back in. he begins to pound his hips into yours, his hands gripping at your waist, the fatty flesh of your ass jiggling with each thrust, “pussy feels like fuckin’ heaven”. 

“tell me, sweet girl, all those nights you’d touch this pretty pussy, did you think about me? thinking about what it would be like to be fucked by the man who’s obsessed with you?” rafe grunted.

you tug at the restraints, trying to hold onto something, but it’s no use as your wrists are bound behind your back. rafe’s head lolls back as your body starts to rock back and forth, fucking yourself on his cock, your hips meeting his, “look at you…fucking yourself on my cock. god, you’re so desperate, huh?”. 

rafe leans back, sliding one hand to your wrists and grasping the chain between the cuffs. he uses it for leverage, pulling you back as he starts to thrust into you at a relentless pace. his eyes drift to watch his cock sliding in and out of your puffy cunt, “shit—poor thing must’ve been needing some fuckin’ dick, huh? she’s suckin’ me in, swallowing me whole”.

you thrash against the cuffs, moans falling from your lips, trying to pull your wrists away from his hold, and he leans forward, pressing his weight onto your back. his hips snap into yours harshly, craning his neck to bury into the crook of yours, “quit trying to pull away; this is what you were begging me for, remember, sweet girl?”. 

“y-yes” you cry out, your jaw slacks, burrowing your face and drooling into the sheets. you let out a sharp gasp as he intertwined his fingers through your hair, wrapping it around his wrist and tugging, keeping your head upright, “don’t hide that pretty face from me”.

your body aches, wrists going numb from being bound behind your back for so long, but nothing compared to the amount of pleasure you were feeling. the mixture of his thumb rubbing tight circles against your puffy clit, and the persistent abuse on your cervix caused by the head of his cock, hitting it each time he slammed into your drooling hole over and over again, was overwhelming your senses. 

“f-fuck–” you hiccup, your eyes rolling back under the blindfold. rafe shoves your face back into the sheets, keeping his hand on the back of your neck, his skin slapping against yours as he pistons his hips faster. your pussy pulses around him, tightly gripping his cock. 

“shit…squeezing me so tight. c’mon, pretty girl, milk my cock for all it’s worth and cum f’me,” rafe coos. your body trembles, pulling a moan from his lips as your walls convulse around him. you feel the all too familiar tightening in your lower abdomen, your tears staining the pink satin blindfold. your voice becomes hoarse from crying out his name as you’re sent over the edge, creaming all over his thick cock.

he grips your jaw, turning your head to the side to capture your lips with his, swallowing your cry of pleasure. his tongue pushes into your mouth, and he continues to roll his hips into yours, chasing after his release.“gonna let me cum inside this pretty pussy? show me that it’s all mine?” he whispers against your lips. 

you whine in response, clenching around him again, “yeah? is that what you want? want me to stuff you full with my load?” his hips stutter, his cock twitching inside your warm, wet pussy as he comes deep inside you, painting your walls white with his thick cum.

rafe pushes into you one more time, his hips flush against your ass as he shoves his cum deeper inside you before pulling out. his hands pull your ass cheeks apart, watching your cunt clench around nothing as his cum drips out of you.

he grabs his phone, using one hand to keep you spread open while he takes pictures of his cum leaking out of your poor abused cunt, “this is just a reminder that you’re mine”.

taglist: @oceandriveab @babygorewhore @cameronsprincess @starkeysbabygirl @xxbimbobunnyxx @fae-of-prey @heartsforvin @zyafics @sematarygirls @drewsarms @sturnioloshacker @userchai @bunnyrafe @nemesyaaa @drewsarms @fallbhind @rafesthroatbaby @rafestaurusgf @hallecarey1 @fallrafwe @rafecameroninterlude @johnnycakess @sturnskiss @blckbrrybasket @rafeyscurtainbangs @wearemadeofstardust0 @honeybunniesoobin @spacexdrago @starkeysbebe @spid6y @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @amandabbbbb @kisses4angel @starkeysheart @rafeinterlude @flvredcas @emilysuperswag @hyperfixationgirl @ijustwanttoreadlols @slumnit @cl4uus @coco-cinnamon @zayluvss @stoned-writer @starkeyisthelastname

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can you please do some headcanons of a reader who was dating Ford before he went into the portal and after stayed at gravity falls to help Stanley with the portal. Mabel calls reader their great aunt/uncle. Basically how they would interact with the twins and Stan! (And a little reunion with Ford if you feel up to it 🤭)

Watching helplessly as Ford got sucked into the portal hurt but what hurt more was thinking that you’ll never see the man you first met way back in college again, that he was lost to wherever that portal lead towards. That and the utter desperation on Stan’s face as he tried to pulling and pushing the heavy lever, looking back at the portal in hopes that it did something; it didn’t the portal remained dead.

You felt as though the wind was knocked out of you when you saw him vanish before your eyes, unable to do anything to stop it due to the distance between the two of you. You thought you had heard your heart break that day also when you felt the first string of tears fall from your eyes as you collapsed on the floor of the disheveled lab, only to be pulled into Stan’s arms as he too cried for the loss of his brother.

‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, we’ll get him back I promise you.’ He said again your shoulder as you both wept in the other’s arms. All you could think about was Ford and your memories with him.

Ford was gone and both you and Stan were left wishing this was all a bad dream before banding together in order to bring Ford back, the pain of loosing him was enough to give you and Stan a reason to stay in Gravity Falls, even when everything reminded you of Ford’s hard work and exploration into the unknown.

Even when you held his journals against your chest tight while looking for a place to hide them forever as per Ford’s instruction, only to settle to hide one in a secret compartment on Ford’s workbench. Going so far as to scattering the third one deep in the woods and the second journal god knows where in the hope that no one, not a single soul ever comes across them, all the while you and Stan spent a large chunk of your lives trying to withhold the biggest secret in known history.

Your relationship with Stan was not the greatest to begin with but after a brief moment on the rooftop of the shack, where he’d ask you what his brother was like, seeing as how at this point you knew his brother on a more intimate level then he did after so long with no contact with one another.

‘He’s like an enigma, a complex equation that couldn’t be easily solved, so complex yet simple that it made figuring him out all the more harder but it was made worth it in the end.’ You tell him with a smile on your face.

‘Sounds like Stanford alright.’ Stan muses as memories of his childhood with Ford flooded his mind. You hummed in agreement before looking up at the stars before noticing a familiar constellation. ‘Orion.’ You then said out of the blue.

‘What?’ Stan replied, confused as he searched the sky for the constellation you were on about.

‘One of Ford’s favourite constellations is Orion alongside the Ursa Major constellation.’ You explained to him before feeling a sense of melancholy filled your chest upon realising that Ford wasn’t here to gush over the multiple fact he knew about the infamous constellation.

‘Oh.’ Was all Stan said as he finally managed to spot the constellation you were talking about with fondness. You looked over to him and gave him a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder. ‘I’m sorry you lost your brother again.’ You say softly as Stan tries to hide his emotions by waving you off.

‘I’m sorry you lost your boyfriend.’ He echoed the sentiment as you both went back to watching the Orion constellation in comfortable peace, both hoping that wherever Ford was he was seeing his favourite constellation too in a desperate attempt to feel some connection to him again. From then on you and Stanley became somewhat friends that acted like siblings more often then not with the rough housing, the pranks and the occasional want to punch a shitty little teenager, he would often times call you his in-law on some occasions when it was just you and him in the shack.

‘I wish Ford would’ve married you.’ Stan tells you on the anniversary of the day Ford went through the portal. ‘Then you could’ve been my in law for real but I guess that doesn’t matter because I already see you as my annoying in law already, my family.’ He admits and you playfully punch his shoulder while feeling sentimental over his causal declaration.

‘Shut up you big goof ball.’ You said with a chuckle as you wiped away your tears. ‘You’re my family too and have been for a long while.’ You added.

You were there with Stan when Mason (Dipper) and Mable were born, you both loved the kids so much that you tried to leg it with them once because neither of you wanted to put them down for a single second. This had soon became a story you loved to retell the twins when they came to stay with you and Stan in Gravity Falls.

‘Grunkle/ great aunt y/n!’ Mabel cried as she dropped her bags before quickly running to you as you bend down to hold her close.

‘My little shooting star!’ You greeted her with equal excitement, pressing kisses to her forehead as she chuckled. ‘How have you been? Done anything fun and fabulous recently?’

‘Only bedazzle dippers face when he was sleeping once.’ Mabel stared proudly as you saw Dipper pout and his cheeks grow red from embarrassment. ‘Don’t tell grunkle/ great aunt y/n that! I spent a week trying to get those plastic rhinestones off of my face.’ He grumbled as he rubbed his cheek as though he was still trying to get the fake Rhinestones off of his face.

You chuckled at them and can’t help but be reminded of the stories Stan told you of him and Ford when they were younger, dipper and Mabel were more alike to their grunkles then they’ll ever know but you’d like to say you even saw bits of yourself in them also.

‘Well I’m sure we’re going to do a whole lot more bedazzling but just not on people’s faces.’ You said while pinching Mabel’s cheeks, causing her to laugh and swat her hands at you. ‘That tickles.’ She cries as you stop pinching and poking her cheeks to hold her hand as you both walk over to Dipper, just to lift his hat and ruffle his hair playfully. ‘And how’s my Little smart Dipper doing.’ You greeted as Dipper’s eyes light up as he told you about how he had beaten Mabel at chess, showed you his most recent doodles he had hastily shoved into his backpack.

One of his drawings was of the Orion constellation and the Ursa Major constellation respectively. ‘I know how much you liked these constellations from the last time we came to visit.’ He said as he handed you the drawing, a little embarrassed but you couldn’t help but feel a smile grow across your face as you held the drawing close to your chest. ‘Thank you dip and dots.’ You said softly as you pressed a kiss to the top of his hat. ‘I love it very, very much I shall treasure it forever my little genius.’

You loved Dipper and Mabel as though they were your own and you often spoilt the pair however you could by doing arts and crafts with Mabel one day while playing paranormal detective with Dipper as you kept him safe from harming himself the next. You encouraged them to be themselves no matter how many people might ridicule them for going outside of the norm, you wanted them to be happy as they are and feel not a single need to change for others.

You’d happily wear the sweaters and jewellery Mabel made with pride as your jumper said in loud and colourful colours; ‘proud Grunkle/Great aunt of a shooting star and a Dipper’ it made no sense to people outside of your family but it just felt right to you to wear regardless. That and it was your favourite thing to wear other than Stanford’s turtlenecks.

‘You’d love them Stanford, you’d love them as much as me and Stanley do.’ You said to no one in particular as you fell asleep on Ford’s bed that night, cuddling his pillow with an aching heart. ‘Please come back home in one piece…haven’t I suffered enough with your long absence from my life?’

They helped you enjoy life but that happiness and peace was then disturbed when the portal reopened and Stanford came out looking a lot hardened and rugged. it felt as though a being of a higher power had answered your prayer for your beloveds safe return home.

‘Stanford?’ You said in disbelief from beside Stan who looked equally in disbelief.

‘Stanford?’ Dipper asked as he looked between you and this mystery figure who picked up the first journal and pocketed it in his trench coat.

Stanford looked up at the sound of your voice and he felt like he was that giddy college student again seeing the most perfect person in his life. It had been far too long for Stanford’s liking as he noticed how you’ve aged beautifully since the last time he saw you in this very room it gave him a sense of Deja vu.

‘Y/n?’ He calls as you could only start to cry while smiling.

‘Yeah it’s me. I look a little grey here and there but-‘ you attempted to joke about your old age but Stanford had quickened his pace towards you before enveloping you in his arms, holding you close and you clung onto him just as tightly. ‘You came home.’ You whispered into his shoulder, burying yourself further into his chest in hopes of telling yourself that he was in front of you, and how this wasn’t a dream. Ford had come home.

‘Yes I’m home now my dear, I’m right here there’s no need to doubt that.’ Ford said as he rubbed up and down your back, resting his head against yours as he familiarised himself with you and your warmth and your scent once again after having been devoid of it during his time in the multiverse. ‘I’m right here.’ He repeats as he felt you grip onto him tighter while you wept into his turtleneck. He has so much to tell you about but decided to keep you in his arms instead.

You both needed this as he too had been looking at the Orion constellation, wishing that you were looking at it too with a smile on your face, after all it was your favourite constellation as a couple.

[yangcherie]

bathing.

𐀔 pairings: cast (astarion, gale, wyll, lae’zel, shadowheart, karlach, halsin) x female!tiefling!tav (reader).

𐀔 content warnings: suggestive, everybody is a little freak, non-consensual voyeurism, implied scent kink (gale), mentions of scars, afab anatomy. tiefling anatomy.

𐀔 sypnosis: what is a warrior to do when all their companions are peeping toms?

𐀔 author’s note: they are freaks and its been very long since i’ve written. please forgive a lady if what she’s written is unappealing.

“Can you keep it – fucking quiet?!”

Astarion whisper-yells at the entire party of people hiding within bushes and treelines, all fighting tooth and nail like rabid animals for a peek (and taste) of their ragtag, frustratingly attractive leader’s curves.

They didn’t even mean to stumble into eachother, each to their own blindly traversing through the thickets of the woods towards the nearest river. Tav simply mentioned having to retire early to take a bath (much to Gale’s dismay), and they all hungrily jumped towards the opportunity like dogs to a meatless bone, the one of the hopefully many chances they’ll see you naked, vulnerable, and shivering – even if it’s only due to the lack of warmth in the river’s streams.

It’s wrong, debauched, even. Hells, even literal devils, Karlach and Wyll, wear faces ridden with shame. Of course, they (namely Astarion and Lae’zel) poked at the others stalking as if they weren’t shamelessly doing the same.

The tension in the air was thick, each a barrel on the verge of explosion ready to wipe out the recently discovered possibility of rivalries and competition – but they couldn’t blame eachother; there was just something about you that made you so very enticing. They all thought it was incredibly silly to think only one person would want you.

“Well,” Astarion clicked his tongue in displeasure, having his private time foiled. Still, he smiled sardonically. “we’re all degenerates, it seems. We’re all looking forward to having a... fun time.”

A deep rumble came, and it surprisingly did not come from the forest ground. It was simply Halsin, all too polite and calm smiles. Astarion groaned; he was sick of this big fucking oaf with hearts for eyes and a log of wood for brains. “We are not depraved for simply yearning to admire our friend in a state of tranquil—”

“Oh, please! Don’t act like a saint in front of me!” The vampire spawn huffed, hands on his hips. “We’re all here for the same reason, we all want to see Tav fucking naked, no point in lying now!”

Tints of red and pink all rushed to everyone’s faces, and even Shadowheart was reduced to fiddling with her fingers together. Though awkward coughs ensued in the air, not a single word of denial was uttered.

Karlach is first to speak up, ever brazen. “It’s true!” She says with her signature sharp smile. “I wanted to see her tits!”

(Lae’zel and Astarion nodded approvingly to Karlach’s honesty. Halsin and Gale quietly shared their sentiments on their preference to your ass. Shadowheart and Wyll could not disagree to both.)

Amidst their busy conversation and debate regarding your body’s fine qualities, the alarmingly close and approaching noises of branches snapping and leaves crunching had rendered them silent, panicked shivers and goosebumps on their skin. With shared glances and only a few split seconds to react, the party floundered and flailed for whatever they could use to stay hidden.

“Settle down, you circus; Tav’s coming!” Wyll is the first amongst the party to silently and comically dive into a bush with Karlach, clutching their tails to avoid it rustling about in excitement. Halsin had thrown Gale and Astarion atop a tree’s thick branches before joining them. Lae’zel, disappointingly, camoflauges just well with the greenery, watching Shadowheart flounder about and settle for lying on the ground with grass over her face.

“All you filthy ska'keth.” Lae’zel hisses, letting everyone know of your now visible presence, the halting of your footsteps along the other edge of the river. “Enjoy the show.”

Across the distance, their focus had been shifted to you and now solely you.

You quietly groan, trudging towards the river you’ve been searching to no end, you set down your basket of fine oils, herbs and waxes as your armored limbs ache and practically cry for a dip in the clear stream. With no haste, you take in the cool night air, this little moment of peace, away from prying eyes you’ve fought long and hard to obtain. Sweat trickles down your throat, your tail swaying in contentment in the calm atmosphere.

Quickly deciding you’ve had enough of the crisp air, you reach towards your body to unclasp and unfasten the many buckles on your durable armor – starting with the iron top, quickly taking it off to reveal your bare, battle-worn chest and hastily discarding the metal on your legs, throwing them aside in favor of letting the cold air bite at your naked, scarred body before you go into the water; allowing your body a little moment of respite from the suffocation and heat of tight, bloody armor – even letting your tail sway around freely instead of being constricted to being stiff. A content smile creeps its way onto your face.

You lightly step your way from the sand to the edge of the water, continuing to walk until you’re trembling from the cold, until you’re hips-down in the water. A grateful sigh is pulled from your lips as you start to wade about, your hands subtly working to wash the dried blood, gore and grime off of your body and hair – using the oils and wax soaps of sweet woodruff and wine from your basket, even scrubbing your horns. A little part of you finds this normalcy almost unfamiliar, uncomfortable; it’s been quite a while you’ve taken care of yourself. Your thoughts start to drift; prior to your abduction by the Nautiloid ship, were you ever taken care of, like this? By other hands, even?

(You hope so.)

Another sigh is dragged out of you, though wearier as guilt treads within you. Just a little moment of peace, of indulgence before you go back to the dreadful task of keeping your companions and yourself alive and fighting. Just a little more time. You think you deserve it.

A silence was washed over the forest, and the party as they all beheld you and your battle-worn body. It felt almost sacred, like doing this would have them damned to the Hells and below but it was simply too captivating. Your bodice was a web and a product of war, and they were caught mesmerized – with only the dense forest and one another to witness their quickly unravelling need for you. But even then, they felt some semblance to pity. What they wouldn’t give to the gods right now to be by your side and give you some tending to.

The ridges down your back, the swaying base of your tail, the alluring image of your hips and ass teasingly disappearing into the water below, the silhouette of your horns – that untroubled smile on your lips – they all drink it in with their eyes in a fashion similar to Astarion’s throat would with your blood.

They savor it for as long as they can, before stepping out of the trance as Gale himself not-so-quietly attempted to clamber down from the rough-bark tree he was settled in, dropping down to the dirt and crushing the leaves loudly and ungracefully. Shadowheart gaped with mortification at him from the ground, everyone wishing to every god above you would have mistaken the sound as a particularly large animal, perhaps an owlbear and not a wizard along with an entire party intruding on your privacy.

“Gale! What in the Nine Hells are you doing?!”

Astarion had settled for whisper-yelling once again, pointing at him accusingly from his position atop the tree’s branches besides Halsin. Gale waved his hand, silently telling him to shut the fuck up, before urgently pointing at your discarded armor and clothing, then proceeding to give him a big smile and two thumbs up.

Surely enough to the mortification of the party, he quickly cast Misty Step over himself to travel to your area and hastily swiped (stole) anything soft – including your unattended bandages and undergarments, taking a small moment to put it to his nose and re-casting the spell to return below the tree within a few seconds. He wallowed in his pride before with a swift motion, tucked the newly acquired materia into the pockets of his robe much to the discomfort (and mild envy) of all of them.

“A man has to do and take what he can.” Gale reasoned to nobody in particular, nodding solemnly as if he just shared a piece of wisdom. He suppressed a yelp as Lae’zel then threw a rock at him, followed by another as Astarion thwacked a small branch straight to his forehead from above.

“Just leave it.” Wyll snidely commented, fighting with his life to tear away his eyes from your moonlit form, breaking out of a trance. “We should leave, go back to camp. It’d be suspicious if everyone just disappeared.”

“Ugh, you are such a killjoy, Wyll.” Astarion rolled his eyes but complied, scaling down the tree quietly, much unlike Gale earlier, who was still fiddling around his pockets with your intimates. “A party pooper, even.”

As repulsive the idea to leave you was, it was reasonable. Begrudingly, everyone quietly sat up or climbed down and quietly attempted to find their way through the dense, dark forest, sharing little observations and hushed chitchat along the way. And soon enough, the party found themselves in familiar territory, now gathering around and settling down near the campfire like they previously had before you announced your leave, as if they didn’t just claw their way through eachother earlier to see a scrap of your vulnerability.

The fire cast a warm glow over the party as they immersed in chitchat, a few (namely Shadowheart and Astarion) pestering and even offering a bargain to Gale for the underclothes he had nicked earlier. The wizard was not deterred; fair and square, he wagged his finger as if to say nuh-uh to the seething two. It was only shortly after, that you came stumbling back into camp like a lost fawn, hair and body language calm and loose but the armor remaining stiff on your body.

Karlach coughed to let the others know you had arrived from your personal time. “Soldier! You’re back!” You greeted her with a nod, before raising a brow and sweeping your eyes amongst them. Gale swallowed, placing a protective hand over the pocket that held your garments.

“You would not believe what happened.” You sighed in utter distress before plopping yourself down besides Halsin and Astarion on the log to let the fire embrace you with warmth, piquing everyone’s interest and attention with intense ease. “A wandering owlbear ate my clothes.”

They all collectively either guffawed or choked on their spit, Lae’zel scoffing and Astarion groaning amongst them. Right. Of course, you would have thought it was a fucking owlbear. Thieving owlbears that take normal, musky clothes instead of shiny armor.

“Ah, owlbears.” Gale tutted and sighed with faux sympathy, nervously chuckling and shifting to hide the lump in his pockets. “They’d eat almost anything, really.”

Astarion shot him a bewildered look, as if to ask, don’t you? You swallowed two of my books last night!

“You can borrow my clothes, for the night.” Shadowheart butted in, suddenly slotting herself behind you and setting a reassuring palm on your shoulder. You smiled at her, gazing up at her gratefully. “Thank you, Sha—”

“Well, you can have my clothes!” Karlach and Lae’zel shot up in unison.

“Sharing your old filth, I can sew them new clothes!” Astarion argued, until everyone started refuting eachother and proposing that you take theirs and whatnot.

You sighed with exasperated fondness, immensely troubled but somewhat used to it as you watch your companions pointlessly banter, having little doubt that by the end of the night, you’d have a fair share of everyone’s wardrobe into yours.

Still, you hope to the very bottom of your heart that the “owlbear” that stole your clothes had a full tummy, at least.

[msgexymunson]

Shotgun

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!)

@eddiesprincess86 @zestychili @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @roanniom @usedtobecooler @josephquinnsfreckles @eddiemunsonfuxks

[pathologicalreid]

a special occasion | S.R.

moving your daughter into a toddler bed brings about some interesting conversation

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: mom!reader, dad!spencer, the f word, talks about having another baby but not necessarily suggestive, extremely accurate emily prentiss characterization word count: 1.36k a/n: this is the spencer reid dilf agenda: father's day edition! this entire fic was born from a headcanon that spencer is stupid good at building ikea furniture. also, this is technically the family from cryptic, but you don't have to read that fic to know what's happening here. it's just easier than making/naming a new baby every time.

“Emily started trying to teach her to swear,” Spencer told you, pulling a bag of screws out of the cardboard box splayed on the floor in your toddler’s room.

While he started to check whether or not all of the pieces were there, your eyes followed your daughter as she ran around the room, pulling each toy out of her toy box and setting it on the other side of the room. “I think we should consider ourselves lucky that Em waited until she was two to start her campaign,” you responded, thanking your daughter as she handed you a baby doll.

The crib had already been taken apart and was ready to be stored in the basement, and the pieces that were organized on the floor would eventually create a toddler bed. Right now, the floor was just covered in wood and screws – tiny pieces that set your mom instincts on high alert. Looking at the pieces, Spencer raised his head, “Hey, Nellie, can you hand me that screwdriver?” He asked your toddler, pointing at the screwdriver on the floor for her to grab.

You tried to hide your smile as Eleanor picked up the wrench from the floor and proudly presented it to her father. He thanked her, and as she toddled back to her toy box, you slyly passed the screwdriver to your husband. “Welcome,” she said softly, “welcome, welcome, welcome,” she echoed.

After reading about how important it was to involve your toddler in setting up their big kid bed, you and Spencer set out to include Nellie in every step. She picked the bed frame, the sheets, and everything she could possibly need for the bed. “Did you tell Emily not to teach her swear words?”

“Of course I did, but I’m pretty sure she started up again when I left the room,” he informed you, using the screwdriver to attach two pieces of the base together.

Humming, you glanced over to Eleanor, “I’d have thought Derek would be the one to start it,” you muttered, watching as she ducked her entire head in the toy box, obviously looking for a particular toy.

Spencer continued working on putting the pieces together, faltering in his movements as Nell made her way back to where the two of you were sitting. She made her way around the bed parts and unceremoniously sat down next to her father, her pigtails – his handiwork – bouncing as she plopped to the ground. “Hi princess,” he greeted, taking a moment to hug her into his side before returning to his construction work.

Eleanor happily waved the wooden hammer she had retrieved from the toy box in the air, “Help daddy,” she offered giddily, kicking her feet as she watched him complete another step in the process.

“Here, can you hammer this right here?” He asked her, pointing to the part he had just fastened, having her hammer at the screw – she was none the wiser. “Good job,” he praised her before reaching over for the next piece.

Furrowing your brow, you watched him work as Nell hammered at the carpet in front of her, “You’re not even reading the instructions.”

He shrugged, “I looked at them before I started, but I don’t need them,” he said casually, adjusting his arm as Eleanor leaned into him.

You rolled your eyes, “Don’t tell me you can just visualize the way the pieces go together in your giant brain.”

“Okay,” he answered simply, a small smirk sprouting on his face, “I won’t tell you that.”

Groaning, you laid back on the carpet and stared up at the ceiling, “I have been building furniture for years and you’re telling me I could’ve just handed it off to you?” Every bookshelf you had put together while he was off on a case, you could’ve just saved it for him.

Nellie had started creating a song about her love of hammers, continuing to hammer at the floor. “Oh, hey, be careful,” Spencer said gently, “those screws are sharp,” he told her.

Your head snapped up to see her reaching out for the pile of screws on the floor, and Spencer was doing his best to redirect her to the bolts. “Sharp,” she echoed solemnly, leaning back and holding her hammer with both hands.

“Can you say hammer?” You asked, pointing to the apparatus in her hand.

Holding it up proudly, she gave you a toothy grin, “Hammer!” She fumbled over her “r” sound, but Spencer assured you that it was a skill that she had plenty of time to develop.

As Spencer finished putting the bed together, you continued asking Eleanor to name the bits and bobs around her bedroom. “You’re so smart, lovebug. You get your brains from your daddy,” you told her.

“But you’re pretty like your mama,” he instantly responded, not even looking up from what he was doing to talk you up to your daughter – as if the two of them didn’t have the same big, brown eyes.

You pulled yourself up to a sitting position, smiling as Nell stood up and walked over to you, “Mama,” she said, turning around and taking a seat in your lap. “Bed?” She asked, looking over at the spot where her crib used to reside.

Switching from the screwdriver to a hex key, Spencer smiled at the two of you, “Almost,” he answered.

Gently dropping a kiss on the top of her head, you smiled fondly down at your toddler, “Do you remember picking your new bed out?” You asked while you pointed at the frame your husband was nearly finished with and the pile of fresh sheets she had chosen.

Nodding slowly, Nellie watched Spencer place the mattress on the bed frame before inviting her to come try it out. He reached out his hand for her, and she took his index finger in her tiny hand before he helped her up on the bed, “What do you think Nellie?” He asked, straightening out her ladybug overalls from where they were getting twisted up.

“Big,” she answered, releasing her hold on his finger and laying down on the mattress. You checked the time on your phone to make sure she wasn’t missing a nap.

Spencer stood up, picking her up as he did so, he held her close, and she rested her head on his shoulder. “You started climbing out of your crib every night, so you got to upgrade to a big girl bed,” he explained to her. You shuffled over to grab the sheets and start making the bed. “Alright, did Aunt Emily teach you a new word last night?”

From the way she smiled at him, you knew the answer to the question and that she had been informed that Emily would get in trouble for teaching her the word, “Fuck!”

Clamping your hand over your mouth to stop from laughing, you heard your husband sigh behind you, “Did Aunt Emily tell you that you shouldn’t say that?”

“Speshul cay-shun,” she sounded out the answer as he let her down, she went back to the bed that you had just finished making. You helped her up on the bed and she proceeded to lay down on the comforter, patterned with multi-colored flowers.

While she explored her new bed, you stood next to your husband, “Shame we have no use for the crib anymore,” he murmured to you, snaking an arm around your waist.

Raising your eyebrows, you turned to look at him, “Oh, you are fishing right now, Spencer Reid.” You were half joking, half scolding as you beamed up at him.

Spencer placed both of his hands on either side of your waist, “I am merely stating a fact,” he said, feigning innocence.

“Pointedly, stating a fact,” you corrected him, “It’s definitely something to consider.”

“Fuck,” a small voice said from behind the both of you, causing your head to snap back to your daughter, who was now making snow angels on her new bed.

You cringed slightly, “Maybe we’ll revisit after we solve this issue.”

He looked fondly over at the toddler, “You have to admit, it is a special occasion.”

[gutsby]

Trigger Tease(r)

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Before his morning briefing, your mob boss husband decides to take a pit stop in the sauna with you.

Warnings: 18+. Oral (f!receiving). Gentle fingerfucking. Praise and degradation. Daddy kink. Dirty talk. Bucky talking you through it. Bimbofication if you squint.

Notes: @sluttylittlewaistenthusiast - you inspired me 🪽 I just had to crank out a little teaser for the third installment of Wedded Bliss. I hope y’all like it 💓

Full version here

In between breakfast and the start of your husband’s early briefing, you found yourself situated in much the same way you’d been spending a lot of time these days: pinned up against the wall of a wood-paneled sauna, Bucky’s broad shoulders supporting both of your legs as he buried his face deep between your thighs. You sighed.

“Hold still,” Bucky grunted, voice muffled as he tried to keep your slick, squirming body in place above him.

You yelped and seized a fistful of his hair when he wedged his tongue even further inside you, nudging your clit with his nose almost too teasingly and deliberate.

“I can’t…help it,” you bit back, ignoring the brief glare you earned from your husband as soon as you said it, “Your tongue’s just so— s— James!”

This time, Bucky let out a full-throated groan when you yanked on those poor wet locks of his—‘Gonna make me bald by next Christmas if you keep doin’ that, honey’—and he pried his head from your legs just long enough to knock you flat on the sauna bench close by.

The western red cedar seared hot on your skin, already flushed from the exhaustion wrought by Bucky’s tongue; you hardly had the strength to hold yourself up when he pushed you onto your back and crawled over your body.

“How ‘bout my fingers, doll? Can you take a couple’a those for me?” Bucky crooned above you as he stroked your hair, bathed in pure sunlight pouring in from the windows. His voice was a touch more sympathetic now.

After all, this was your third orgasm of the morning. It really wasn’t fair for him to use that biological weapon of mass destruction he liked to call his tongue when he knew how sensitive your clit would get from just one ‘O’. Even his hands might be too much in your current state.

Bucky was busy peppering your skin with kisses, working his way from the base of your neck to the crown of your head, when you whimpered and tried to fight a smile.

“Finger,” you corrected him, “Just one finger, Barnes.”

You would’ve thought you’d just thrown your wedding ring in his face and told him to eat shit. Just one?

“How’s one finger s’posed to stretch you out for my cock, huh? Practically had you screamin’ when I stuck it in last night,” Bucky wasn’t one to hide his amusement, grinning even bigger when you swatted him on the arm.

“Who said anything about your cock?” You tried to keep cool as Bucky’s fingers trailed right back down to the place you felt yourself throbbing, aching for his touch, “You have a meeting in ten minutes.”

“Meeting doesn’t start until I say so, my love,” Bucky reminded you just as his index ghosted over your folds.

In truth, he was willing to play this game any way, and for however long, you wanted it done, so long as he was the one bringing you pleasure. Be that his cock, his finger, or all fucking five on one hand, Bucky just wanted to get you off. It was better sustenance to him than the whole damn meal the two of you had eaten that morning.

Bucky kept it down to one digit and lightly circled your bundle of nerves when he sensed you were ready.

You gripped his forearm and shot a quick look between your legs, still in disbelief as to how he could make you feel this good so soon after you’d cum twice before. You felt his lips drift over to yours and steal a few kisses.

“Always doin’ so good for me,” Bucky praised, moving his finger in circles. When you whined against his mouth, he pressed it even harder, “Such a good girl for daddy.”

“James,” you breathed, clenching your legs together.

“Everything OK?”

“Uh-huh.”

More than OK, in fact. That delectable coil of sweet, euphoric release was already swelling gently in your tummy. Bucky moved his finger even faster.

“Tell me how it feels,” he murmured low in your ear.

Bucky loved seeing you try to articulate your feelings—relatively fresh and new to your world, still—while he was giving you pleasure. Adored the way you winced and whined and arched your back into his touch as a whole blustering hailstorm of sensations crashed over you.

He sank his tongue in your mouth as he kissed you, as if trying to extract the words from between your lips. Your response, in consequence, came somewhat stifled.

“Mm— feels so, oh—” Your voice broke off in a moan when Bucky tightened his circles, “—so good, daddy.”

“Wanna show daddy how good and cum for me?”

Bucky knew by the way you were whimpering under his hand that the tendril in your stomach had almost tripled in size. It wouldn’t take much to tip you over the edge.

“My sweet girl,” he said, rubbing your cunt at the same time he was stroking the back of your head, gently, “Feels so nice down there, doesn’t it?”

You rolled your hips against the bench and nodded. Your breaths were short and ragged, panting helplessly into Bucky’s mouth when he adjusted his hand just a little: pressing the pad of his thumb to your clit, with his index moving down to your entrance. Pushing inside you.

“Another,” you choked, not thinking.

Bucky met your desperate gaze and nodded, knowing this was exactly what you needed to make it over the precipice.

Still, he wouldn’t be Bucky if he didn’t tease just a bit.

“I thought my wife wanted one finger,” he hummed, brow pinching inward.

“No, no.” You could’ve shrieked when he curled the digit, “Want more— Bucky, please, please, I need more.”

Again, your husband appeared to nod in understanding, but his fingers didn’t budge. He worked his thumb a little faster and watched you writhe on the seat beneath him.

“How many, honey? Don’t wanna hurt my baby.” His words were all kindness, it seemed, but his tone laced with shameless condescension—the kind that said, yes, I know you need this, and no, I won’t indulge you just yet. Bucky was the worst when he wanted to prove a point. You could’ve ripped at his clothes and torn them in two if you weren’t both stark naked and shrouded in steam.

You opted to pull at his hair instead.

Bucky winced, but the smirk never left.

“I said how many?” he pressed again.

“Three. Four.” Fuck if you knew.

Your husband raised both eyebrows and hummed, a single finger still plunging in and out of your cunt in quick succession. He teased the tip of another at your entrance and smiled even more when you whined.

“Needy little thing, isn’t she?”

“Bucky—”

“Just wants to fuck daddy’s hand to get herself off, hm?”

Bucky didn’t bother to mask his sweet, degrading tone any longer as he talked down and teased you to no end. It drove him half-insane to see you squirm around, rut your hips, let him say the filthiest fucking words he could conjure up, and just bob your head to whatever he said. His impeccant wife and her insatiable needs—Bucky couldn’t even begin to express how turned on the sheer dichotomy got him. He stared in your eyes, all glossy and soft, and felt his cock stand even more rigid on his belly.

He didn’t give a shit if he’d taunted you enough or not; he just shoved his middle and ring fingers alongside the first and clenched his jaw to start fucking you hard with all three.

Your whole face contorted with pleasure, tinged with the faintest shade of discomfort at the tail end of it. You’d forgotten how big his fingers felt all together.

“Bucky,” you whined, mindlessly clawing at the wrist that was moving back and forth, fast, between your legs, “B-Baby, slow— slow down a little.”

But Bucky was deep in the zone. He knew you wanted it too—sensed that you liked to play it safe when it came to your pleasure and grew a little timid at times it got to feel too much—and he needed to talk you through it.

Rather than turn his head and keep to himself as he got you up to your peak, Bucky pressed his face down to yours and nodded again—this time with a tender sincerity.

“Feel a little stretch down there, huh?”

You didn’t have to say anything, just whimpering in time. Bucky kissed your forehead and let you fold into him as his fingers wreaked havoc down below. He kissed you again, and again, and in between kisses, mumbled,

“That’s daddy’s sweet, needy little slut.”

“My perfect fucking wife, so good at taking my fingers.”

“Gonna be nice and stretched out for my cock, hm?”

Every syllable spoken aloud was like a brand new catalyst for your impending release. You barely nodded your head, opened your mouth and whined pathetically, but that’s exactly how Bucky wanted you. Exactly how you needed to be, bucking your hips in time with the cadence of his fingers fucking inside you, and soon, those whimpers were turning to moans as that soft little helix inside you reached its breaking point.

Bucky brushed once or twice more against your sensitive spot, and suddenly you were coming undone all over him—crying his name, clawing his skin, squeezing your legs so tight around his wrist you feared you might snap it in two, and then getting kissed again, over and over while Bucky drank in your every sound, and the few tears that sprung to your eyes as they always did, like sweet nectar.

You were still moaning, curling your tongue feebly against his own and leaning into him as far as you could, when your husband slipped three fingers up between your mouths and pushed them past your parted lips.

“Suck,” Bucky said, gritting his teeth as he watched you, “C’mere, honey, taste your cunt on my fingers.”

You took him in and sucked your arousal off his fingers just like he asked. Took him by surprise and dragged a mindless, lazy, half-crazed and careless tongue all over his hand, where your juices had no doubt collected too.

That slutty, fucked-out look you gave him—like your brain had all but fallen out of your head with the orgasm he’d given you—was everything Bucky could’ve wanted.

He climbed on top of you and took the base of his cock, rock-hard and weeping tears of precum from the tip, almost drunk from the feeling himself. His mouth hung open as he dragged himself over the seam of your cunt.

“I need to fuck you.”

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[moonbeamsandmayhem]

Idea for smutty request: virgin Eddie who has never even eaten a girl out so he asks if he can practice by eating reader’s pussy…. Ofc reader says yes cos she’s had a crush on Eddie for forever

a/n: I’ve been working on this for months. So for that, I apologize!

warnings: reader with titties, cunningulus, mentions of a shitty ex-partner. I think that’s it. Please let me know if I missed anything.

“You sure?”

“Ed—.”

He held up his hands in defeat, licking his lips anxiously. “I just wanna — I don’t wanna fuck this,” and he gestures between the two of you, “Up. Our friendship. You know?”

“I know.”

Eddie stares at you, deep brown boring into you as if looking for a flicker of doubt. There was none. Your friendship with him meant the world, and when he approached you with his request, well. You could never deny him anything. Your heart stammered and you could feel your cheeks heat, but you agreed.

His room had always been a safe space. The smell of old spice, burning wood, and Marlboro’s infiltrated your lungs, causing the tension in your body to uncoil. Ever the gentleman, Eddie made sure to clean up for you, have bottled water on the bedside table and extra pillows at the ready.

You started to shimmy out of your shorts, but Eddie’s hands replaced yours, fingers caressing every bit of skin as it’s revealed. “You’re so fucking pretty,” his tone is awe-struck as if he’s seeing you for the first time. Thighs squeeze together and he takes note, a sly little smile curling his lips. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

“Nothing.”

He lifts a brow.

“Promise. Just never been referred to as ‘pretty’ before.”

The metal head blinks at you slowly as if he can’t process what you’re saying. “Not even Chad or whatever-the-fuck that dick ex’s name is?”

You shake your head.

“Asshole.” Eddie declares, strong hands finding yours, fingers threading together. “If you were mine… I’d tell you every damn day. You’re gorgeous. Not that you need my or anyone else’s validation.” His eyes soften, “Thank you for this.” It’s the first time you see a hint of vulnerability cross his features cutting through all the bravado. It makes your chest squeeze with affection.

He wastes no time, peeling away your underwear. You resist the urge to slam your legs together, shyness taking over. “No hiding,” as if he can read your thoughts, his eyes are the softest brown, pools of warmth you could get lost in.

Eddie kisses along your thighs, nipping gently, experimentally. Your breath hitches and he chuckles, hot breath fanning over you. A whine emits from the very back of your throat. “Sensitive little thing, ain’t ya?” He licks his lips before he leans forward, kissing directly onto your seam, head buried between your legs. He nestles his nose against the thatch of curls there, breathing in your scent.

Eddie’s breath is warm, the flat of his tongue dares to spread you apart for him, flicking upward toward your clit. He’s slow, calculated, watching your expressions for some guidance.

“Jesus Christ,” you moan, he takes a part of your labia into his mouth and sucks softly, humming around you , “you’re - you’re sure you’ve never done this b-before?”

You can feel him smile against your cunt, before his tongue dips, finding your entrance. You gasp, hands grabbing those wild locks of his, tugging sharply. He groans, deep and reverberating, the muscle curling inside of you, working in and out, searching for that spot. You grind your hips down, desperate for more friction. “God, Eddie - fuck -!” It doesn’t take much before you’re arching off the bed.

“Mmmhm.” He’s drinking you down, lapping and slurping at everything you have to offer. A calloused thumb finds your neglected clit, circling it in tandem with the actions of his mouth. Your own hangs open, spewing expletives, moans, praises, gibberish and Eddie revels in it.

The coil in your stomach snaps sooner than you’d like and you’re cumming, clenching around his tongue while white hot pleasure burns through you. He continues, working you through your climax until you’re pulling him off, tears streaming down your face. You both lock gazes, his cheeks are rosy, lips covered in your spend, eyes heavy with lust. As for you, your face is covered in a light sheen of sweat, your body flush.

Eddie makes his way up to you, caging you in between his arms, hair falling in curtains to frame his face. He reaches up to wipe away a stray tear.

It’s just the two of you against the world, all panting breathes and longing gazes.

He looks at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. For a second you feel a pang of fear that maybe he was having second thoughts. That this whole thing was a mistake and you should just forget it.

“Can I kiss you?” He finally asks.

You blink owlishly.

“Or - or we can not do that - that was a stupid suggestion, forget I said any- .”

“Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

“Thank fuck.”