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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✦ dustin becomes your #1 fan IMMEDIATELY. he thinks it’s so hot cool that you can HIT people, ON purpose, ON skates.

✦ in fact, he LOOOVES seeing you in your element; jaw set, focused, confident, he blinks and looks at you absolutely enamored, swooning over you

✦ even if he doesn’t understand the rules, he comes to your every match (he’d rather die than miss one).

✦ when you accidentally commit a foul, he defends you, whenever you knock someone down or score, he tells EVERYONE that you’re HIS girlfriend.

✦ he defends you like life depends on it generally, if anyone makes a dumb misogynistic comment like “Isn’t this aggressive for girls?” Dustin will snap back immediately

“I’m about to get aggressive with you.”

or

“She could absolutely destroy you.”

✦ and at your matches he ALWAYS comes with signs if they’re allowed cheering not for your team, but for YOU specifically

✦ you try and teach him how to skate at a certain point, he insist he’s “basically a natural” before trying. He very much isn’t and it’s just to impress you.

You hold his hand as he wobbles on the wheels, letting out a nervous laugh, he refuses to let go of it even when he’s reached stability.

“I-It’s for safety!” He insists

“Dustin you’ve killed thousands of demogorgons.”

“That’s not the point—!”

✦ LOVES how fearless you are, he’s already brave himself but he loves how fearless and badass you are. He looks at you with his jaw dropped as he sees you laughing yourself into a group of girls without hesitation. Whenever you fall you get back up and hit harder, and he finds that insanely impressive.

✦ with that, he finds your bruises pretty. Calls them your “battle scars”.

He gently pokes one “Looks like it hurts.”

“It’s just a little scratch, don’t worry about it.” You put it down like it’s nothing

And he just looks at you with heart eyes.

Also while you guys cuddle he kisses them “Tell me if i hurt you, okay?”

✦ while you’re stretching on the floor, he loves going on about D&D, his latest campaign, science facts, or the new obsession he has. Will fall in love if you ask questions and actually listen as you’re stretching and preparing yourself for practice

✦ he kisses your helmet before matches, it’s quick and it’s like your lucky kiss. You tease him about it but never stop him. Also whenever you win a match after you receive the kiss he acts like you won the super bowl.

✦ i feel like he’d ask you lots of questions, just to understand you a bit better

“Is it worse to be knocked down or shoved out?”

“Okay, but how do you not fall when someone hits your side?”

“Could roller derby..be useful against Vecna?”

You answer every single one, even if you’re exhausted

✦ he’d definitely draw or doodle on your skates if you let him, it’s not amazing, but it’s sososo pure and made with so much love

✦ if your team sells merch (like bottles, caps, shirts) he’d definitely buy them. Like one day you’ll just see him with a cap with your team’s logo and when you ask him about it he’s like

“Hey, i gotta show support for my favorite team with my favorite derby skater”

✦ whenever you lost matches he’d always comfort you and hug you after, offering to go out and grab ice cream to “get your mind off it”, assuring you that you did amazing and the referee wasn’t being fair at all

✦ one time during a match you got hurt, like badly, blood coming out of your nose, you had to be brought out. He ran towards you and assured you were doing fine

“Are you okay? Do you need some ice?”

he doesn’t leave your side until he’s sure you’re doing well.

✦ after every game he gives you a big hug and tells you how proud he is of you, no matter if you lost or won, and how beautiful you looked while playing

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TAGLIST ˎˊ˗ (ask to be added or removed)

@aureliacalista @loserrwinnie @lulubear12 @blizzyblitz @localpanicattack — marked off means it won’t let me tag you