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#this is literally almost a thousand words
akkpipitphattana · 2 years
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okay like i have just so many fucking thoughts on tesstun and it drives me crazy knowing that we are absolutely not gonna get any further info on them beyond maybe a few nuggets next week when they go back to the au, so here i am making a post about them. this got way longer than expected so gonna add a read more option sjkfdsf
okay so, to start with what we know: tess and tun have known each other since high school, they were good friends (based on the pic of tun on tess's back) until tess ditched tun's film project and then they started "hating" each other. except tun never actually hated tess and ended up falling for him more than he already had, only for tess to date anna. anna breaks up with tess to protect tun's feelings and then there's awkward tension between them before talay and tess switch bodies. THEN, while they were in the other universe, tun hires tess to be his manager, tess causes him some "financial issues" and hurts tun in some way, tun fires him, and then they switch back not long after that. and then next week, puen and talay are gonna wake up in the same bed when they go back to the other universe, meaning that tesstun will be sleeping in the same bed. also, based purely on the logic of the (minimal) world building, tesstun are soulmates because puentalay are soulmates.
now the thing that gets me the most about all of this very minimal information is that despite tess being the body of the main character for most of the show... we know the least about him. as he's been portrayed, he's just a one dimensional spoiled asshole that doesn't give a fuck about anyone else.
except that doesn't make sense! because tess has great friends that love him, he has tun who fell in love with him despite being an asshole. and tun is a great guy from what we've seen of him! he's caring and protective of his friends and he's smart. and i just have a very hard time believing that tun would fall for tess if he was just a dick and nothing else. i personally think there's more to tess than that. that despite definitely being spoiled, there's gotta be some softer, sweeter side to him that tun has gotten to see before. also, i feel like tess definitely got the asshole tendencies from his dad, i mean the guy's son was in the hospital and man did not give a FUCK.
so, with all of that in mind, this is how i imagine their story going: tess and tun meet in high school and become close friends. tun develops a bit of a crush but obviously doesn't say anything to tess, ends up inviting him to act in the film him and his friend mek are producing. tess ditches them on the day of filming to hang out with some girl because he doesn't realize the importance of it. mek and tun agree to never work with him again. tun later blows up on tess for being a shithead, explains how important this was for them and how they almost missed the deadline because of him. tess realizes how much he fucked up and apologizes, leading to tun forgiving him and while there is still a divide between them, they remain somewhat friendly.
though, they don't see each other much after graduation until tun comes to sell his screenplay to 26 pictures. around then they reconnect and build up their friendship, tun falls hard again and starts to think that tess might feel the same... when he starts dating anna. their friendship isn't the same after that and tess isn't quite sure why. the relationship just doesn't work, but anna ends up breaking things off when she realizes what tun feels for tess and feels bad about it. tess tries to talk to tun about it, but tun has been weird and distant, avoiding him like the plague all the way up until tess gets beat up because he flirted with a girl who was taken and almost dies, so tun calls the ambulance for him. only tun goes back to ignoring him right after.
then they both end up in a completely different universe. tess is there for roughly two months on his own, ends up finding probably his own phuwadol that helps him learn the ropes. only tess isn't as careful as talay is and doesn't think to contact his friends, doesn't think as much about the consequences of being rude to talay's family because he has never really been close with his own. probably ends up depressed because he's alone and doesn't know anyone. that is until through his job as a colorist, he runs into "puen"... who he soon realizes is someone else entirely. tess and tun reconcile and tun offers tess a job as his manager, causing tess to quite the colorist job without so much as a second thought. spoiled tess, however, isn't all that responsible with money and ends up costing tun a lot of it by making a bunch of irresponsible decisions. more than that, though, some big blow out fight happens between them (possibly involving tun's feelings?) that leads to tun firing tess.
with them back in their own universe and everyone thinking they're dating now, there's no better time for them to work things out. they get together... only for them to be sent back to the other universe after their first night together.
wow did this get long. anyways, this is mostly me just grasping at straws and throwing things together with the very limited information we've gotten on the two, but since i know we're not gonna get much more next week, i can decide this is canon as much as i want!
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rosylix · 19 days
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latest rosy update is that pt 3 alone is over 12k words. what am i doing. what is going on.
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ryehouses · 2 years
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Do you have any boba and ushib scenes? I love your tusken ocs so much, especially ushib! Or I’d also love to see anything from boba’s pov that you found really fun to write
hello hello! thanks for stopping by!
i DO Have a few boba/ushib scenes here and there, but this one was the most complete; it is very old, lol, and came out of some early character work i was doing at the beginning of the fic, and additionally has received only the most cursory rounds of revision, but! for you <3
set before ast even starts - like, it's set 36 hours or so after the opening scenes of return of the jedi - but here's some ushib!
in which tusken adoption is relatively straightforward. 
The sands were quiet. Like any old Tusken, the quiet made Ushib wary, her hand reaching on instinct for the smooth, worn handle of her nisa’sik. She narrowed her eyes and looked out across the silver sands. 
The desert was not supposed to be quiet. The night was still young, yet, and there were a few hours before the true cold of a desert midnight set it. The sands all around Ushib should have been humming, singing, the dunes rustling as the breeze swept by, the bantha lowing to each other as they made their journey to the nearest oasis. 
But the breeze was still and the bantha were quiet, and the silence was so thick and forbidding that Ushib almost stopped her journey and turned back, her fingers itching for her knife. Silence in the desert was a bad omen, and Ushib was warier of bad omens than most. 
I should have married into Brave River, Ushib thought sourly, keeping her eyes on the dunes and her hand on the smooth krayt-bone handle of her knife. A’Paur was acceptable. I should have agreed to his suit instead. 
The Brave River Tribe of the tuskra of Tatooine had not had the relentless, thirty-year progression of ill luck that had made Ushib so wary of bad omens and driven her tribe to the brink of collapse, starving and consigned to a fraction of their tuskbal. A’Paur was still alive – or had been alive at the last Gathering of Tents – and all of his children were still living too, and Ushib of Spotted Anooba Tribe had buried her bloodmate and all four of her children. Brave River still had warriors aplenty, raiders and scouts, and didn’t need to send its grandmothers into the sands to scavenge. 
Spotted Anooba Tribe just had Ushib. Its few remaining warriors were too busy trying to guard the tribe’s frail borders to hunt or forage. 
I could have spent my old age in a shaded tent by the water, with more grandchildren than I knew what to do with. But no, thought Ushib. I had to like Mazahar and his silly courtship. I had to like the pearls he brought me, and the knives his mother made, and his promises. 
Ushib snorted to herself. The sands stayed silent. 
A bad omen, she thought. She should just turn around and begin the long trek – on foot, because Ushib’s bladeback mount was just as dead as her Mazahar and all of their children – back to Spotted Anooba’s summer camp. Ushib was her tribe’s last jida, advisor and healer. If she met a bad end here in the sands – 
But the children are hungry, she thought. There were so few children left. None of Ushib’s had been lost to hunger, but she felt keenly the worry and grief of the other mothers. 
I’m old, she reminded herself. If tonight is my last night in the sands, so be it. A’Karan said he’d send one of the pups to help me, if he could. I will not be alone for long. 
Hopefully whichever pup A’Karan sent out after Ushib was one who knew his way around the desert and who wasn’t afraid of a bad omen or three. A’Shek, perhaps, who was as brave as any bladeback, or A’Timma. 
There were hungry children back in the camp. Ushib was not afraid of fire-spirits and she was only a little afraid of ruh’shir. She was admittedly very afraid of the Great Devourer, whose pit was just over the silent ridge of the next sand dune, but at least the Great Devourer would stay in his den. Krayt dragons could move. Sarlaccs could not. 
Gathering her courage, Ushib drew her nisa’sik and started to walk towards the pit. She was here because one of the far scouts had seen the Worm sailing out this way yesterday morning, and the Worm was wasteful. He often left plenty behind to scavenge. 
Ushib crossed the first sand dune without being shot by a lurking outlander, struck down by a vengeful ghul or set upon by a krayt dragon. That was good. The desert’s persistent silence was still unnerving, but Ushib had been through worse. 
She crossed another dune and found, to her surprise, more than just the Worm’s usual cast-offs. Jabba the Hutt was known among the tuskra as the sort of lazy glutton who would slaughter a bantha just for its horns, leaving the rest of the animal to spoil in the suns, but Ushib didn’t think she’d ever heard of the Worm leaving behind an entire ship before. 
But there on the far side of the Great Devourer’s pit – the Great Devourer itself blessedly still, its horrible beak closed, its seeking tendrils slack with sleep – was an enormous metal structure, a speeder or a ship of some kind, tipped over on its side and utterly abandoned. The smell of smoke hung in the breezeless air. 
Ushib eyed it, unsettled, but nothing was moving inside or around the ship, either, and the mechanisms that would power it were silent too. 
What, Ushib thought, happened here? Had the Worm brought an entire ship full of other ghuy’ra to the Pit of Carkoon and thrown them all to the Devourer? Was that why the awful beast was so quiet, because it had cracked the ship like a junda bird egg and greedily eaten everything inside? 
A ship that size had to have some supplies that Ushib could scavenge, though. Maybe not food or water, if the ship had been full of sacrifices doomed to die, but other things that the tribe needed.
Her neck prickled, an old woman’s fine sense of danger scratching at Ushib like a massiff trying to warn its master, but Ushib only readied her knife and crept closer to the burned-out ship. 
Ushib stepped carefully, trying to disturb the sands as little as possible. The Great Devourer was likely full, if the Worm had fed it so well, but Ushib knew as all Tuskens did that the Devourer was a glutton, and would eat even if it wasn’t hungry. She didn’t want to wake it up. 
The Devourer’s pit was dangerous enough even when the beast at the bottom was sleeping. The Devourer’s constant moaning and lashing had made the sands unstable, the sides of the pit prone to collapse, and there was no bedrock beneath the sand to anchor Ushib if she started to fall. 
Cautious, Ushib made her way around the edge of the pit, towards the smoking ship. The pit was shallower there, the sides scraped down into a more gentle slope, like the Devourer had flattened part of its pit in order to reach its prey. She pushed back the urge to shudder. The Devourer was sleeping now, its beak slack, and if she was careful – if she was lucky – she would get away without waking it. 
Only the thought of her hungry people kept Ushib moving towards the smoking heap of metal. Ushib had just a passing familiarity with the strange metal ships of the ghuy’ra. Her birth tribe, Stooping Bonehawk, had roamed high in the mountains, far away from even the most adventurous settlers. She hadn’t seen a speeder until she had accepted Mazahar’s courtship at the Gathering of Tents and come to live among his tribe.
This speeder – this barge – was exceptionally large. Ushib thought that it probably wasn’t a speeder at all – she couldn’t imagine a contraption that size moving quickly. It looked like one of the great, lumbering structures that the Jawas lived in, except for a heap of tangled, smoking canvas on top. 
A moving camp, perhaps? Ushib wondered, drifting closer. The Great Devourer stayed still and quiet. He must have eaten well. 
The Jawas had already visited the ruin. Ushib could see their footprints in the sand. That gave Ushib more confidence to get closer; if the Jawas had been here, they would have dealt with any ghuy’ra traps. 
They had certainly dealt with the ship, which had crashed into the sand on its side. Fire had scoured the sides of the ship, burned away its cables and ropes, and fire had killed many of the ghuy’raat inside of it, too. 
Jawas did not bury dead outlanders. Ushib stepped over several bodies, studying them curiously as she went. She’d never been very good at telling ghuy’ra apart from each other – all outlanders were the same, really – but she did spot a fair few humans among the dead, a handful of the stout, snub-nosed guards the Worm traveled around with, droids that had already been stripped of their casings and wires. 
Why did the Worm sacrifice his guards? Ushib wondered. She understood the humans. Jabba the Hutt threw humans to the Devourer all the time. But the green-skinned guards – no.
This doesn’t look much like a sacrifice, she thought. It looks like an ambush. 
Ushib knew little of sacrifices, but plenty about ambushes. She’d lost two sons to outlander ambushes, and knew what kind of wreckage was left behind. This, the wrecked barge, the bodies strewn across the sands, looked less like a show of power on the Worm’s part and more like a daring raid. 
Ushib cautiously stepped over another body and peered into the depths of the ship. The Jawas had stripped most of the paneling off the belly of the thing, exposing it to the elements, and Ushib had to duck a frayed cable to get all the way inside. There were more bodies here. Ushib was grudgingly impressed. No one had managed to pull a raid off against Jabba the Hutt, not in her memory. 
This was no tuskra raid, she thought. She couldn’t think of a tribe left with enough strength to manage such a thing. Another ghuy’ra must have planned the raid. 
Brave of them, Ushib thought, poking through the ruins carefully. The Jawas had stripped away most of the useful metals that Ushib’s people could use to fashion weapons or shelters, but Ushib did find food, among the wreckage. Ghuy’ra food, Hutt food, all manner of under-spiced, overcooked, unappetizing things, but a meal was a meal, so Ushib fished a cloth bag from her robes and started to fill it with what looked most edible. 
She avoided anything that she couldn’t recognize, but the Worm had stocked his barge with all sorts of things, and Jawas were always more interested in scrap that they could tinker with or sell, so they’d left much of the fruit and dried meat behind. 
Ushib took most of it, satisfied, and began to pick her way back through the barge before her luck ran out and whatever ill curse had befall her tribe remembered where Ushib was, and what she was beside. 
She had almost made it out of the ship and away from the pit when she realized her mistake. Spotted Anooba Tribe had been cursed by a vengeful spirit long ago, when the youngest of Ushib’s children had still been small, and that curse had seen her tribe half-destroyed. 
But it was a strange sort of curse. If one didn’t think about it, the curse didn’t exist. But as soon as one remembered that the Spotted Anooba were cursed – 
Three steps from the gap in the broken barge’s belly that would have let Ushib back out into the desert – back out into safety – Ushib’s robe caught on a spar of jagged metal and pulled. 
Half of the barge, weakened by the wreck and by the Jawas’ scavenging, came down on top of her. 
The noise was the worst of it. Ushib was not particularly tall and had never taken up much space, so she wasn’t crushed or buried by everything that fell. A piece of metal struck her in the shoulder. Another thumped the top of her head. 
But she didn’t die and she wasn’t buried; it was just that the metal shrieked and clanged and clattered as it came down, joists wailing, walls rending. The sounds, to Ushib, were loud enough to wake the dead. 
The Devourer ate this morning, Ushib thought, throwing up her arms to protect herself. But that doesn’t mean that it won’t eat again, now that it’s awake. 
She waited for a long, lashing tendril to slam down on the sands, pitching the barge and Ushib both into the pit. She waited to hear the Devourer’s hungry shrieks, for the awful sound of its beak as it clattered. She waited for the curse, which had begun when the chieftain before A’Karan had kidnapped a ghuy’ra woman and drawn out her suffering, to take Ushib like it had taken her children. 
The sarlacc did not stir. It didn’t wail. It didn’t start to clatter its beak together, demanding to be fed again. 
The scraps falling all around Ushib slowed, then stopped. Wary, she lowered her arms and looked around. More of the barge had fallen to pieces around her, but the Devourer – 
The Devourer hadn’t moved. 
Ushib had chosen Mazahar, in part, because he had not laughed at her when she’d told him that she wanted to see more of Tatooine. Ushib had always been curious. It was a trait that had served her well with Spotted Anooba Tribe. It was a trait she could not – would not – ignore now. 
Ushib lowered her arms, peered out of the barge and down into the Pit of Carkoon, and that was when Ushib realized that the Great Devourer was dead. 
Dead? she thought, staring at the beast. She could see three of its tendrils through the gaps in the barge’s belly. She could see its great beak. No. It can’t be dead. The Great Devourer has always been here. It had lived in these sands for as long as the tuskra. It was these sands. It was – 
It is dead. Feeling either very brave or very mad, Ushib stepped out of the thin safety provided by the barge and approached – very carefully – the nearest tendril. It was as big around as a man’s arm and lay limply in the sand. Ushib prodded the tendril with her krayt-bone knife. The flesh was cold. The Devourer didn’t stir. 
It is dead. Ushib could barely believe it, even though she trusted her own eyes and the edge of her knife. 
What could harm the Devourer? Nothing. Nothing but another burrower, a Greater Krayt, but Ushib would have felt one moving through the sands. She had been walking through the desert for hours, foraging. Greater Krayts could not pass in silence. 
She looked closer, leaning as far out over the edge of the pit as she dared, and saw that the Devourer’s slack beak was singed and blackened, as if it had been scoured by some great heat. 
Her first thought was that the Great Devourer had finally gotten too greedy and had swallowed a hara’alliit, a night-fire spirit. There was a story like that, buried in the back of Ushib’s memory. In that tale the fire-spirit had burned its way out of the krayt dragon’s heart, wreathed in blue-white flame. Ushib couldn’t remember why the singers had sung that particular tale, what lesson they had wanted to teach, but she thought of it now, seeing the soot burned into the Devourer’s beak. Jabba the Hutt’s barge had burned too, and the night-fires were spirits of purpose. Not mindless destruction like a ruh’shir, that would swallow a whole tribe if it happened upon one, but of justice and right vengeance. 
The Worm had more than earned himself some right vengeance. The Worm had killed Ushib’s daughter. 
But that had been years and years ago, and Ushib didn’t really believe in the night-fires anyway. This was not a story-song, taught to children to teach them how to survive in the sands. 
Still, it was good, knowing that Jabba the Hutt and the Great Devourer both were dead. For once the silence of the desert hadn’t been a bad omen after all. The Spotted Anooba couldn’t exactly eat good news, but with the Worm gone, there might be room to expand their tuskbal a little, to search out a new oasis or hunting ground. 
Ushib peered down at the Devourer again, fascinated. 
What did kill it? she wondered. Some kind of fire, but – 
Her eyes caught on something down by the sarlacc’s slack beak. Whatever it was was pale, half-buried in the sand, just as still as the Devourer, but – 
But, she thought, staring hard, I think that it’s a body. 
Another outlander. Ushib could see a broad back. Raw flesh. Some kind of horrible wound glistening in the moonslight. 
Acid, Ushib realized. The Devourer killed with the weak acid inside of its stomach. The body beside the Devourer’s beak had been eaten by the Devourer. 
Eaten, but not devoured. 
Ushib knew all at once that the outsider – the ghuy’ra – had killed the Devourer. Had been the hara’alliit, the night-fire, that had so badly burned the beast. That must have torn free of the sarlacc’s stomach, too, must have crawled up through the loose sand of the pit. 
No one, not even a Tusken warrior, had ever killed a Great Devourer like this one. Smaller sarlaccs, ones not so well dug into the sand – yes. A brave band of warriors could kill a devourer like that. 
But a Devourer like this – 
Before she knew entirely what she was doing, Ushib stepped over the half-collapsed edge of the sarlacc pit and angled her heels so that she slid down into it, leaving her fear beside the wreckage of Jabba’s ship. The Devourer was dead. Ushib had nothing to fear from its corpse. 
She wasn’t the only one who’d braved the pit, either. She could see Jawa tracks all around the animal’s beak as she drew closer. She huffed, impressed. Jawas were cowards at heart. 
They must have stripped the Devourer’s killer of whatever weapon he – for the body, Ushib saw, was human, and male – had used to kill the Devourer. The Jawas had left the body itself, but they had taken everything else. All Ushib could see was acid-scarred skin, the wounds raw and extensive. The man was curled on his side, half-buried, and acid had burned his hands and arms to the elbow, his head, his neck down past the shoulder, his sides, his hips, his feet. Ushib winced. 
A hard way to die. 
Still, Ushib hoped that the outlander had at least had the satisfaction of seeing his enemy dead, before he’d succumbed to his wounds. He had earned it. 
Even though the Devourer was dead, Ushib was careful not to touch its beak as she crouched down into the sand beside the outlander. She wouldn’t put it past the thing to have acid coating its tongue or its rings and rings of teeth, and she could see well enough what the acid would do to a body. 
Ushib crouched down beside the dead man and took a closer look. She wasn’t very good at estimating the age of humans. This one was fully grown, at least. A warrior. Ushib could see older scars beneath what the Devourer’s acid had ravaged. 
A warrior’s death, thought Ushib. 
That was admirable, for a ghuy’ra. Ushib was almost impressed. She bent closer, intending to roll the dead man over to get a better look at him, and that was when the dead man moved. 
Now, as a general rule, Tusken grandmothers were hard to startle. Ushib had collected seventy-six rains and along with those rains she had survived war, raids, the Anchorhead Reprisals, childbirth, the trials of raising four bright and ambitious children in the desert. She was frightened of some things, like the death of her tribe or the idea of being eaten by the Great Devourer, but Ushib was not one to spook at a loud noise or an unexpected touch. 
However, she had assumed that the ghuy’ra was thoroughly dead, because no one escaped from the Great Devourer alive, and she had not been expecting him to twitch back to life all at once, a furious dark eye opening, and grab her by the ankle. 
So if Ushib let out a cry of alarm and fell backwards, nearly dropping her nisa’sik, well. There was no one else around to see it, and she quickly recovered by kicking the ghuy’ra in the face. 
The outlander groaned, a harsh, rattling sound, and stared up at Ushib for a split second, that one eye burning like a tongue of fire in the dark, before his hand went slack around Ushib’s ankle and his eye rolled back into his head. 
Ushib stared at him some more, too surprised to do anything else. 
He’s – alive? 
She didn’t understand how he could still be alive. How his hands could still have that kind of strength in them. Even moving as little as he had had reopened some of the raw burns across the outlander’s shoulders. 
He should be dead. 
But he wasn’t. The outlander didn’t move again, limp in the sand, but now Ushib could see him breathing shallowly. She pushed herself back upright and prodded his side with a foot. He didn’t stir, but he didn’t die, either. 
He had survived the sarlacc. 
Intrigued now, Ushib crouched down beside the man again and took a closer look. She still had her knife, after all – if he roused again, she could put a stop to that easily enough.
He must be strong, then, she thought. 
Most ghuy’ra weren’t. They had done so well on Tatooine because of their numbers, because of their technology, but an outsider alone, lost in the sands, was week. None of them knew how to survive in the desert, with the desert. Most outlanders, in Ushib’s opinion, weren’t worth the effort it took to hunt them or drive them out. 
But this one – 
The wounded man, unaware of Ushib thinking hard above him, made a thin, faint sound of pain. 
Ushib softened. 
The man was an outsider, but he was strong, and he had done the Spotted Anooba a service even if he hadn’t meant to. The Great Devourer threatened anything that came near it. That, at least, had awarded the outsider some dignity. 
Alain’ah, thought Ushib, reaching into the depths of her robes for her traveling kit. 
She didn’t usually venture out into the desert with her full supply of medicines and ointments, mostly because the materials to make those medicines were scarce, these days, and Ushib didn’t want any to be lost with her if she was taken by the sands, but she always kept a small kit of the most basic supplies. Clean linen for wrapping wounds, a small clay jar of jurab paste, a fistful of shaving of safi bark. Enough, Ushib hoped, to keep the outlander alive, at least for a little while longer. 
He didn’t stir as Ushib began the process of identifying the worst of his wounds, not even when Ushib began to pick what looked, rather horrifyingly, like shards of sarlacc tooth out of his back and smear jurab paste over the worst of his burns. 
She had just started to wrap the outsider’s hands when a shadow fell across the pit, and Ushib looked up to see another tuskra standing above her, imprinted black against the stars.  
Ushib looked up, tensing, but relaxed when she saw that A’Karan had, in a rare moment of good sense, sent A’Shek out to retrieve Ushib. She knew him by his broad shoulders and by the white-scarred bladeback boar pawing at the sand behind him, the animal made uneasy by the lingering smell of fire. 
There were not many young warriors left to Spotted Anooba Tribe, but A’Shek was the best of them, and he usually minded Ushib well enough. 
Good, Ushib thought, tying off her bandage. I’m going to need his help. 
A’Shek repeated his greeting, then signed down to her, What are you doing? 
Ushib moved a little so that A’Shek could see the wounded outlander. 
Giving aid, Ushib signed back, one-handed. 
Aid? Always curious and usually fearless, A’Shek slid down into the pit alongside Ushib, though he did the sensible thing and looped a rope around his bladeback before he did it. Who are you giving aid to? Sun – 
His fingers stopped moving when he saw the man in the sand. Ushib let A’Shek think on his own for a moment. He didn’t immediately reach for his gaderffii, which was good. A’Shek, Ushib thought, could be reasoned with. 
A ghuy’ra, Ushib replied, flicking her fingers in the shape of the sign. 
An outlander? A’Shek signed, the answering twitch of his hands dismissive. Why give aid to an outlander? Just leave him. The Jawas have been at him already. 
Because, Ushib said, this outlander killed the Great Devourer. 
A’Shek froze. 
Yes, Ushib thought, knowing that A’Shek was running through those words in his head just like Ushib had. That A’Shek was trying to make them make sense. No one could kill the Great Devourer, especially not an outlander. 
Except this one had. 
Are you sure? A’Shek finally asked, intent. He doesn’t look like much. 
Yes, Ushib replied. She was sure. She did not go around handing out alain’ah to outlanders on a whim. Her heart was not so soft. 
But giving aid to a sarlacc-slayer, to the one who had finally killed the Great Devourer – 
I am sure, she said. 
A’Shek made a faint sound. She couldn’t tell if he was amused or if he was worried. She decided that it didn’t matter. 
Why? he asked. 
She had been waiting for that question. “Because this one,” Ushib said, loud and clear into the silence of the desert, “is mine.”
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imogenkol · 1 year
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THE LODGE 🐺 - original works (x)(x)
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yeyayeya · 1 year
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Just finished Word of Honor! ✌️
Can I just say, what a fucking rollercoaster that was, and how I’m fucking glad I gave the show a chance.
I am still in awe on how the show passed censorship, and I originally thought The Untamed/CQL was pushing the limits enough to show that it was a BL, but still not enough for it to have as much censorship. Word of Honor tho? How? Wen Kexing should’ve been a dead give away, but no, Wen Kexing was still fucking gay
I’m planning to read the novel, and if anyone knows a good website to read it I would greatly appreciate it!
Time to go more and more into the big rabbit hole that is Danmei
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avelera · 1 year
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*lies on the ground* I have so many WIPs that are like... 4/5 done right now. If I could just finish one of them I could post or update something, please brain, I'm begging you....
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I just think always an incubus!Steve and newly formed vampire!Eddie would be neat, y'know?
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bogunicorn · 1 year
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have you ever had such intense imposter syndrome that you'll see a real-world thing that's inspired literally dozens of fictional equivalents and still be like, "but if i do that people will know i'm a horrible evil plagiarist who steals all the ideas"?
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non-un-topo · 1 year
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At the crossroads between wondering if it's worth it to basically completely rewrite all my WIPs or just take a break from writing for the rest of the summer
#i noticed every summer i get progressively worse lol#like not in terms of writing but in terms of everything else goin on in my head#i mean if anyone is craving some dark and depressing shit i've got bits and pieces here#it's like i'm writing for an audience even in my own mind. can't finish anything because it's __ __ __ etc and my niche is too niche.#did my last fic really burn me out that much?? i mean it was basically 30 thousand words and there was a LOT packed into it#maybe i should finally respond to comments and i'll feel better.#something's been going on with me for the past couple months (maybe longer) and i'm just annoyed ALL the time#feel like i want to give up everything and stop talking to everyone. ((it could be my out of whack hormones mind))#so if i haven't been as active and haven't drawn or written much that's why. i'm pulling away and curling in like an atrophied limb.#my brain is just permanently in school mode. i can feel it gearing up for the oncoming year that's going to be super intense.#like would it even matter if i post any more work before september? idk why i can never seem to chill or take a break for even a minute.#i still have drawing projects i want to finish at least! taking me literally all summer because of surprise health problems.#partner was consoling me about how i feel for writing '''weird''' stuff with almost no focus on romance#saying that SOMEbody has to write what i write so that should keep me going. i just tell myself that it could be worse -#- i could be primarily a femslash writer. they are the real heroes and they get no respect.#idk why i'm getting so angsty#i think i might be romance/sex repulsed atm. not in real life at all but in fandom. i'm bored of it. and i'm bored of conversations about i#i'm sure i'll change my mind in what two weeks or so.#maybe i'll try to write something original#i have things in my ask box i should respond to. like asks about my writing. i just haven't been feeling well#so i haven't had the right brain to respond :( but i see the asks and i'm grateful <3#anyway peace and love
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tunemyart · 2 years
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I'm so close, I have two more lines to write, ahhhhh
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salstray · 22 days
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i love that new hyperfixation high, but i really wish it wasn't for something that i'm so late to.
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radioforums · 10 months
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writing is kinda funny because you know exactly how this bitch is ending but your hypothetical audience sure as shit doesn't
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theoryofarson · 1 year
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something interesting going on psychologically w me bc i just read a fuck ton of gomens smutfic and have now decided to headcanon crowley as ace
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leilanihours · 4 months
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# TO MY BED
pairing: paige bueckers x reader
word count: 2055
warnings: smut (MDNI), fingering + head (paige receiving), almost not rlly public sex (they're on live idk if that counts)
summary: you can't help yourself when paige is sitting on your couch looking sexy as ever.
⭑ from lani: nearly collapsed when i saw the pics from tds live so heres this short smut 🤭 also chose this song bc it was on paiges freaky playlist so i just had to
masterlist !
“PAIGE, I’M HOME!” you announced as you dropped your keys onto the kitchen counter of your new york city apartment. you had just got back from practice with your new team, the new york liberty, and you were desperate for some quality time with your girlfriend.
“hey, y/n, i’m on live!” you hear from the living room. as you turn the corner you see paige sitting on the couch with her phone tilted against the glass vase on your coffee table.
normally she would’ve greeted you with kisses and eager hands but with thousands of people watching her every move, she had to control herself.
it was also an unspoken rule that if either of you were on live you would announce it when someone walks in the room so they would watch themselves. it’s safe to say that there have been many…incidents…on live that may or may not have almost exposed your relationship.
nodding to her, you go into your shared bedroom to change out of your practice clothes and into some house clothes. you were fairly warm from the workout, so you decided to put on a simple shirt and shorts before making your back out to where paige was seated.
“yo, you said y/n is there? lemme say hi!” you hear kk, your former teammate, say from paige’s phone speakers.
“kk wants to talk to you,” she says, handing you the phone once you sat down on the armchair across from the couch.
“hey kk! how you been girly pop?” you smile with a wave.
“i been doin’ real good, how ‘bout you? i know you been living it up there in new york with your new team,” she jokes with the last comment, playfully side-eyeing you through the screen.
“you can just say you’re jealous, it’s okay,” you add.
“and what if i am? you look better in blue and white anyway, not no seafoam green and black likeee.”
“man shut up, kk,” you laugh, giving the phone back to paige who has been quietly giggling at the interaction.
“you being a menace again, kk? this is what happens when y/n leaves, huh, you start actin’ up?” paige teases.
“who you callin’ a menace? you can’t talk with the way you jumpscared the entire internet with those island braids,” kk snickers.
“bro, it wasn’t even my fault!” she defends. she begins to talk about how a lady offered to do her hair and ended up doing her dirty.
for the first time since you got home, you are able to fully take in her appearance. she no longer has the full braids from the cruise, but rather a couple side braids on either side of her head, the rest of her hair in a simple ponytail.
she was wearing a white nike sports bra paired with white and black basketball shorts. there was a fluffy blanket draped over her shoulders - one that she had bought for the both of you when you first bought the apartment.
you subconsciously bite your lip as you continue to scan her body. the wide spread of her legs as she gets comfortable, the flex of her arms and abs whenever she adjusts the blanket, the way her tongue occasionally darts out between her lips as she talks. god, she looked sexy.
this girl could literally be doing the most normal, domestic thing but you would still feel the urge to rip her clothes off, similarly to how you feel right now. you clench your thighs together at the thought, wanting nothing more than to take her right there on the couch.
meanwhile, while you were completely zoned out, paige ended her story and looked up at you. with her own lip between her teeth, her eyes darken slightly when she notices you checking her out. she clears her throat to get your attention, making your eyes shoot to hers.
with a slight movement of her head, she wordlessly motions you to come sit next to her. you oblige, of course, the desire to be close to her too strong to resist. the sun has started to set outside your apartment windows, creating a warm, influential atmosphere in the room.
“you okay?” she whispers seductively as kk and kayla argue about something on her phone.
“mhm,” you nod, eyes trained on her pink lips. she smirks at your quiet state and decides to tease you even more.
she goes back to talking with the two girls on live, but sheds the blanket covering her to fully lean back against the couch cushions. her entire body is now on display. shit.
her muscles are defined as she crosses her arms and the smooth skin of her thighs is exposed as her shorts ride up from her adjustments. she knows exactly what she’s doing.
your lips part at the sight. you were currently out of the frame, but if you weren’t, thousands of people would see how down bad you are for her (as if they’ve never seen it before).
you get up from your seat next to paige to grab a drink from the kitchen in an attempt to compose yourself. as you take a deep breath and sip your sparkling water,
you look up to see paige’s hungry eyes on yours, a teasing smirk on her face. she returned to a sat-up position, blanket draped over her legs. you shake your head in pretend annoyance, not wanting to give into her just yet.
with a plan set in your head, you make your way back to the couch and set your drink on the table. however, when you retract your arm and “accidentally” knock the camera over, you set it back up so that only the top half of paige was visible, not her bottom half. 
“sorry, y’all,” paige says, “my blanket accidentally hit the phone,” she lies as she eyes you suspiciously, your actions not going unnoticed.
you simply smirk at her and kneel to the floor in front of her. quietly, you remove the blanket from her lap and begin to rub her thighs with your hands. her skin was cold to the touch but beneath that, she was burning up from the tension. slightly panicked, she widens her eyes for a split second before raising an eyebrow at you.
you look up at her as you start placing delicate kisses on her skin, making your way closer to her heat. your fingers find their way up to the waistband of her shorts and tug, silently asking for approval. she nods while one of her hands sneakily drifts to move some of your hair out of your face.
slowly, you pull her shorts down along with her boxers revealing her wet cunt. the sight of her already aroused by your touch turns you on even more.
you revert your attention back to the paige’s face. she is nodding absentmindedly along to what kk and kayla are talking about, her expression straight yet flushed from your actions.
finally, you slide two fingers into her with ease from her slick. she bites down on her lip harder to prevent herself from making any noise as you pump your fingers in and out of her at a relentless pace. you lick your own lips as you continue to observe her vulnerability because fuck she looks hot.
you continue to pound her pussy, occasionally curling your fingers in a “come here” type of motion. once you notice that she is getting more squirmish and shifting her hips to buck up against your fingers, you lower your head to lick at her clit. she puts her fist up to her mouth at this, eyebrows slightly furrowed. you can tell she’s trying so hard to have some decorum, but you were not making it easy.
as your tongue laps at her clit and your fingers ram her entrance, paige can feel herself nearing her release. her stomach is tense as her abs flex. the bright pink tint on her cheeks reflects how the rest of her body feels. she’s still covering her mouth when kayla decides to ask her if she’s okay, noticing her sudden silence.
“what?” she says, snapping out of her daze, “no, yeah, i’m good over here. just really focused on y’all’s conversation. what were you saying about that game from last year?”
you laugh into her cunt at her shaky cover up. the vibrations force a hushed “fuck” out of her, eyes widening at her slip.
“what was that, paige?” kk asks suspiciously.
“oh, nothin’ i just…stubbed my toe on the..table leg,” she sounds out of breath as she continues to lie, and she’s thankful for the overall poor quality of the livestream because everyone would be able to see small beads of sweat form on her forehead and her chest start to heave otherwise.
your fingers push against the special spot in paige’s pussy, making one of her hands fly down to your head, encouraging you to continue. you oblige and abuse that same spot, hitting it over and over in attempt to get her over the edge.
you raise your lips from her cunt so you can get a good look at her face when she comes. she senses the knot in her stomach tighten, and with a few more pumps of your long fingers, it snaps.
she lets out a long, shaky breath as she releases all over your fingers and the couch. even after this, you slowly keep pushing your fingers in and out of her as she comes down from the high.
when you remove your fingers and place a delicate kiss on her thigh, the tensity she didn’t even know she had in her shoulders is gone as she tries to catch her breath as discreetly as possible.
kayla is still caught up in sharing one of her stories from one of her classes, but kk has paid close attention to paige’s behavior and noticed the abnormality of it.
there is a confused look on her face until she realizes that you were still in the room with paige, and awfully quiet might she add, when you were typically very chatty and bubbly. her jaw drops as she quickly sits up and begins to laugh.
“okay so boom i think we gotta end the live now y’all!” she says hurriedly, still laughing.
“wait what?” kayla questions.
“i think paige has to meet up with someone in a bit, right paige?”
now paige’s face is scrunched up in confusion. it’s not until kk raises her eyebrows knowingly that she understands what she means.
“ohhh, yeah you know what i totally forgot i had somethin' tonight,” she plays along, “but i’ll text you guys soon?”
“nah it’s all good,” kk continues tease, “ion expect to hear from you for a while…or y/n.”
“i’m so confused. what is happening?” kayla sighs.
“paige is just a real busy girl, i guess,” you hear kk say.
you laugh at kayla’s confusion and kk’s antics. kk’s ears practically perk up at the sound.
“alright bye y/n, bye paige, bye kayla, hope y’all have fun doing…whatever…” she smirks through the phone.
“bye y’all,” paige responds.
“okay…bye…i guess?”
and with that, the live has ended and you are suddenly thrown against the couch cushions. paige is now on top of you, trapping your body from moving.
you can tell from the way she pins you down that she couldn't wait to take you to your bed, the need for you too strong at the moment.
“you must think you’re so funny, huh?” her voice is low and enticing as she begins to rip your clothes off of you, lips attacking your skin, “almost got us caught. again.”
“couldn’t help myself,” you whisper, “looked so sexy just sitting there.”
“yeah? well since you wanna act like a slut in front of our friends then i’ll treat you like one. is that what you wanted?”
“maybe.”
“fuck, y/n, you’re gonna make me lose my mind one day,” she basically moans into your neck as she grinds her hips down onto yours.
you’re both oblivious to the text message that dings on paige’s phone, both too caught up in each other’s embrace to put your attention on anything else.
kamorea pop: y’all are so damn nasty.
— leilani signing off ! 📁
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san8ny · 2 months
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I COULD BE MOM, (unless you want to be dad?)
?: In which Ellie has been away on a trip, what better ‘welcome home’ gift than delusionally letting her get you pregnant with a strap?
!: Breeding, Praise, Slight spitplay, Strapping, Pussyeating, Obsessed!Ellie, says ‘mommy’ ONCEEEE!
“You can’t.”
Ellie tilts her head, lips falling into a frown, “Maybe if we try enough?”
Was she serious?
“You literally can’t though, Ellie, it’s biologically impossible. You nutting in me doesn’t mean we can have babies.” You roll your eyes, scrolling on your phone before it’s plucked out of your grasp and tossed to the side, “Hey—!”
“You’re so negative.” She smiles, hooking her thumbs into the waistband of your underwear, shoving you back into the bed so abruptly as she sinks to her bruised up knees. You let out a shiver at the implication of what was to be taken place, eyeing the muddy suitcases near the entrance of your shared bedroom before bringing your gaze to what she was doing, “You haven’t even unpacked yet..”
Wrapping her arms around your hips, she pulls you closer to her ravishing mouth, cooing as she thumbs your swollen folds, “Yeah, but i’m a starved woman, you that surprised?” With that, Ellie digs in.
It was going so well, mouth feeling like heaven on you ‘til she spoke up,
“Biologically, did you know the clit has tens upon thousands of nerves?” She says out of nowhere, lifting her head up to display the lower half of her face soaked with your arousal, and more importantly, sizing up your smart-ass retort from earlier when she asked to breed you. “Fuck off..” You tiredly reply, not finding it in yourself to tell her off how you want, not with the delicious feeling of your stomach beginning to coil in what seems like a long-awaited orgasm— but Ellie’s not feeling nice.
She quickly retracts her mouth away, a dramatic ‘pop!’ from your clit when initially does so. She gets up, jogging over to her suitcases to get something, all while your mouth is gaped at her audacity. You’re eagle-spread like a damn french girl, and she just..gets up?
She quickly returns back, sheepishly kissing your hipbone as a half-hearted apology, except you feel something cold and long slap onto it aswell.
Alarmed, you raise your head and are met with one hell of a sight, Ellie wearing what seems to be a literal death contraption— a long, beautifully sculptured, silicone cock, slightly curved at the end with an adjustable harness wrapped around Ellie’s gamine figure. Was this the reason your wife believed she could suddenly re-write the law’s of nature? You gulp when she slaps it once more against your bikini line, this time, slowly nearing your leaky entrance.
“Biologically, you think maybe ‘yer cunt might break from this?” She utters mockingly, leaning forward to kiss the edge of your lips before she runs the tip of the toy inbetween your folds ‘nice and easyyy’..getting it all nice and most importantly, wet. “Geez, who needs lube when I got one of these bad boys..” Ellie says, before trailing off with a laugh when you don’t seem to be focused on any of her words as she plugs you up.
You’re still finding yourself getting use to the exaggerated stretch of the dildo, it’s beginning to feel like it’s practically splitting you in two. You attempt pathetically at gripping the sheets but find yourself wrapping your arms around Ellie, needily pulling her closer to your still-clothed chest. “A-aaah..”
She smiles at your gasps and whines, your pleasure alone intensifying whatever shes feeling by a ton, even if she wasn’t the one taking it. “Just grab ‘onna me.” Ellie says, voice void of any previous teasing but instead a certain softness, “I won’t be mad, baby.”
You nod, eyes cinched closed when she begins picking up momentum; you almost immediately wrap your legs around her lower back, wanting her even deeper, somewhat understanding what ‘dickmatized’ meant now. “Uhn! Uhn! E-llie!” The redhead chortles at the rhythmic hiccuping of her name, groaning when the sharp pressure of your heels drive further into her back, definitely leaving bruises later, “Just take it slowly, ye—eah? ah! ‘m right here, giving it to my favorite girl..”
You two have been in for a while, and Ellie has you a complete mess, milky fluids forming at the base of her cock each time she bullies her hips into yours, ripping a cute sob outta you. If she could marry you a thousand times over, she would— she really would. If only you saw yourself through her eyes, the sheer and utter helplessness she feels when you’re handling kids, knowing you’d make the best mommy out there, and god, she’s a sucker for you, buying you everything you ever ask because she’s head over heels in-love with your very essence. She’ll build you up everytime you fall and never complain. You were her dream girl.
Speaking of dream, she gently pats your cheek, asking you in a docile voice if you’re still with her, and when you nod back, with lttle pools of crystals forming at the ends of your lashes, Ellie is about to free-touch cum at this point, needing to get you to that point with her ASAP. She runs her thumb over your lip as you instinctively take in her digit, swirling your tongue around it while she quickens up her pace, sinful slaps of skin echoing throughout the humid room and likely to the rest of the home too, a clear indication of how far she was willing to go with you. “I-i’m gonna cum..” you mewl pitifully, tits moving forward eachtime she rams her strap into ‘ya, finally meeting ellie’s gaze somewhat as saliva seeps past your lips, dribbling down the thumb she had on the tip of your tongue. Ellie brings her head down to your shoulder, rocking her hips hard and fast, a slight bulge forming in your lower stomach from how deep she was in your guts, all while her beautiful sounds play in your ear, each little huff and tuff of praise.
“So warm..so soft, y-you’re ‘gna be the end of me, mommy..” Ellie whimpers admittedly when the end of the strap repeatedly stimulates and bumps into her engorged clit, and to put an end to her soft streak, Ellie meanly presses a hand to your lower-belly, forcibly bringing you to, hands down, one of the most pornographic, blissful, soul-shattering orgasms you’ve ever had in a long tome, creaming all over the strap, your thighs and her tanktop. That sight of you alone, also, makes her cum when she finally bottoms out, body feeling limp as it falls over you.
She eventually rolls over you, draping a tatted forearm around her eyes to shield her from the moon beams shining in from your windows. “Why do we even open that one—“ However, upon noticing your steady breathing and occasional snores, she drops whatever she was gonna say, scooting closer to kiss you— lips lingering when she finally pulls back from your cheek.
She never understood when Joel and the other mopey adults around her would complain about marriage, and quite frankly, she doesn’t think she ever will, not until her cold dead body is ripped away from yours.
‘Til then, she was gonna build this family up with you, your future kid’s adoption papers still in one of her suit-cases as she lifts herself up to her elbows and eventually to her feet, retrieving a warm wet towel from the bathroom to clean you up with, especially not having the heart to wake you up.
Not that you could likely still walk after the number she’s done on you.
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msgexymunson · 1 year
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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
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