(I on the other hand am not normal about his tattoo :3)
warnings: NOT PROOFREAD, smut, choking (headlock), dom!Damien
You were sat on his cock, your back pressed against his chest. The mirror in front of you showed how purely erotic this was. Damien's left arm was wrapped around your neck, your head nestled into the crevice of his elbow. He smelt of pine and sweat. The black ink tattooed into his arm always made you melt. He looked so damn good. The brush strokes lead up to his chest, a place where you loved to leave bruises with your mouth.
Earlier in the day, you made the unfortunate mistake of teasing him, which included sending lewd photos of yourself while he was in his office auditioning for something. Damien had been busy all day, and you were getting impatient, so you decided to take some photos of yourself in front of the full length mirror in your shared bedroom. Now, you were in front of that very mirror, and Damien was determined to teach you a lesson.
"You think you're so smart, sending me dirty photos while I'm working? What did you think was gonna happen, sweetheart?" He grunted, his cock twitching inside of you. "You know your actions have consequences, dear."
"I'm- I'm sorry..." You whimpered, his breath was hot against your ear, and you could feel him holding back. He desperately wanted to fuck you senseless, to choke you until you passed out, but he knew it would be more fun this way. While he loved pounding you into oblivion, he might've loved seeing you beg for him even more.
"Ah-ah. Patience, my love." He muttered into your ear, licking a long stripe up your neck. He flexed his arm slightly, causing you to gasp. It was like you were watching porn with you and Damien as the stars.
"Look at you, you look so good wrapped around me. You like being in a headlock, huh?" He teased. He obviously knew the answer, based on how you whined every time he shifted his arm. Nodding vigorously, you tried to lift yourself up, desperate to feel any sort of friction. His arm tightened around your throat, pulling another whimper out of you.
" I said, patience." Damien's right hand drifted down your stomach and rested right below your belly button. It was hot, the trail his hand followed igniting something within you.
"Please, please, please- I promise I'll be good. Fuck." Your rambling made him chuckle, and he decided to give in to you.
"Just remember, if you do this again, I won't be as forgiving." He wrapped his right arm around your waist and lifted you effortlessly, almost pulling out entirely. Then, he essentially dropped you down onto him, causing a loud groan from the both of you.
summary: When your ex-friends-with-benefits proves he's incapable of keeping his mouth shut even while jerking off alone in his tent, you're forced to intervene. God, do you have to do everything yourself?
tags: MDNI, [SMUT] [ex-friends-with-benefits to lovers] [camp counselors][summer rivalry] [heavy mutual pining] [angst] [steve & reader are both college age] [semi-public sex] [handjob] [tent sex] [steve trying to be quiet and failing miserably] [discussions of canon stranger things events] [oral sex f receiving] [talking about trauma/therapy] [fingering] [steve calls reader sweetheart, brat, bitch (once) and baby] [one thigh spank] [unprotected creampie] 5k words
a/n: saw this post from @s3xytosomeone and got inspired. let’s all just pretend i actually posted this on the 4th, okay? okay thanks!!!!
There are noises coming from Steve’s tent.
You lie completely still under your own tent’s ceiling, breath caught in your chest.
There it is again. Another soft grunt, but this one is deeper, almost desperate.
You’ve heard these sounds before. Your mouth goes dry as the reality of what he’s doing settles in your gut, a sharp ache building low between your hips.
Thank God you’re all the way out instead of back at camp where your middle school-age campers are tucked away, sleeping in their cabins on the hill.
At Camp Woodwick, the last night of their month-long summer session always ends on the Fourth of July. Which is tonight. And on the last night, the counselors don’t have a curfew, so the whole lot of you can pitch tents down by the lake and watch the fireworks show.
It was fun for awhile, but after a handful of lackluster campfire stories and couple burnt marshmallows, Steve announced he was going to bed. The guys complained, begging him to light some fireworks with them, but he said he was going to turn in anyway.
Right after his eyes caught yours.
You excused yourself shortly after him, not even really sure why. And as you changed into your sleep shorts and a t-shirt, and settled into your sleeping bag, you blamed your sour mood on the heat and the bugs.
Assuring yourself that it had nothing to do with the fact that you and Steve Harrington have been at each other’s throats for weeks.
Tonight is is counselor’s night out! It’s supposed to be a fun end-of-the-summer bash for all the adults who were paid a few grand to babysit. It’s the night everyone looks forward to the most.
You should be having fun—being young. Whatever that means.
At some point between the whole saving-the-world-and-barely-escaping-with-your-life-thing, you became somewhat of a stranger to that idea. Your life had been, for lack of a better term, flipped upside down.
Steve groans again. Hot embers flare to life in your core, stirred up by the sound of his thready voice. So low and breathless.
He has to shut up. What is he thinking, jerking off like this with people nearby?
Granted, your tents are the furthest away from everyone else’s, and no one has really gone to bed yet. It shouldn’t be that big of a deal. But between the sticky humid air clinging to your skin, and the sharp whistles from exploding fireworks, when Steve moans softly again you finally just…snap.
Ripping the blankets off yourself, you rustle around your tent for your flashlight, grumbling and muttering in the dark.
God, you have to do everything yourself, don’t you?
You wince as your tent opens with a loud zip that punctuates the darkness surrounding you. Peeking over your shoulder, you can see the smoke from the campfire in the distance, curling up towards the stars. A few of your fellow counselors are still lounging around the fire, but most of them are small shadows dotting the lake’s edge.
Steve pitched his orange tent under a tree.
Stupid.
Doesn’t he know that the roots will mess the tent stakes up? You’re surprised he could even get them in the ground. Honestly, it will probably fall down on him tonight.
You hope it does.
His tent is dark and quiet, but you march over anyway, flashlight raised so the beam falls straight on him when you turn it on.
You yank on his tent’s zipper. It gives easily. A muffled curse comes from inside, and you click on the flashlight to reveal Steve lying on his side, bare chest rising and falling as he squints into the bright beam.
“God, you never could stay quiet, could you?” You say, bullying your way through the tent flap and zipping it back up behind you.
Steve scrambles to throw his sleeping bag over himself, but it does practically nothing to hide his raging boner underneath.
“What the fuck do you want?” He snaps, glaring up at you.
Despite yourself, your eyes catch on a delicious bicep, and his muscled shoulder in the shine of your flashlight. That chest hair has taunted you all summer long. It’s been torturous pretending you didn’t know what it felt like against your bare breasts, against your back...
You clear your throat. “I just thought I’d let you know the whole camp can hear you jerking off.”
“What? I’m not—Jesus.” His big hand drags down his face, even as he pulls the sleeping bag up higher. “Get out.”
Whoops, there you go again, getting distracted by his hands.
Maybe you should close your eyes, or turn around—something—because looking at him stretched out in the dark like this is making you think wicked things.
Your lips twist in a mocking smirk, and you gesture down to the sleeping bag. “Oh, c’mon, Steve. Why are you so embarrassed? It’s not like I haven’t seen it before.”
Lots of times, actually.
Through the years, you’d been there for everything—watched him get captured, tortured, and sacrificed for others. But after it was all over, and the dust settled, you fell into each other a different way.
Because it wasn’t the days plagued with Demogorgons, evil Russians, or even Vecna that were the worst.
It was the days that followed.
The hollow darkness you experienced as the world kept moving on, oblivious to the memories that plagued you both. You had to learn how to live normally again, and something about that was both relieving and excruciatingly lonely at the same time.
The nightmares had a way of sticking to you like blood you couldn’t get off no matter how many times you scrubbed yourself raw in the shower.
It was in those shaky, sweaty, middle-of-the-night fever dreams that you and Steve found solace in each other. Because when it all became a bit too much, you could dig your nails into someone else’s skin, feel a slick, hot mouth against yours—ground yourself in something intrinsically human just to prove that after everything, you still are.
But all that came to a screeching halt last summer.
“Okay,” Steve sighs, shifting a little and squinting up at you. “Let’s say that I was. You wanted to come over and…cockblock me? From myself? And turn that thing off unless you want everyone to see two silhouettes in here.”
You click the flashlight off immediately, plunging you both into darkness.
Maybe you should rescind your previous statement. Because now, without being able to see him, his proximity is somehow affecting you even more.
You can hear his soft breaths, smell the lake water on his skin. And underneath it all, the familiar sounds and scents of him that opens a gaping hole of nostalgia in the pit of your stomach.
You try to laugh, but it comes out cold. “You think I give a fuck if you’re rubbing one out, Harrington? No. I came over here because you’re fucking whimpering and moaning—”
“—I was not whimpering.”
“—and you’re incapable of keeping quiet—yes, you were, and I was getting sick of hearing it. So, either do it quieter, or find someone to cover your fucking mouth.”
As you were talking, your vision adjusted to the darkness. Which is a very bad thing, because now you can see him again. Specifically the outline of his mussed hair as he lifts his chin to meet your gaze.
“You offering?”
Your breath catches.
You should say no. You should tell him to go fuck himself—literally— and leave right now. He can let the whole camp hear him for all you care.
But instead, you hesitate.
Now, Steve is smart. Smarter than he gives himself credit for, that’s for sure. And there are certain patterns he’s picked up on with you over the years. Like, when you pause like that, the answer is almost always a yes.
Which is why the second you go quiet, and the distant laughter of the other counselors fills the space between you, he’s already batting the sleeping bag off his lap.
“I knew it,” he says. The fabric slips off him just as a firework bursts overhead, and your eyes drag over his body. The lean, tan muscle from all his time outside this summer, down to his long, hard cock jerking against his happy trail. “You’re so busy acting like you hate me, wanting to play this game where we bitch at each other all summer, and now you’re making up excuses to come into my tent—”
“Oh, trust me,” you scoff, tearing your eyes away to meet his again. “It’s not an excuse.”
“No?” he says softly, leaning back on one arm and gesturing at his body with the other. “Then, prove it.”
“Fine, but I’m only staying to keep you quiet,” you warn him, pinning him with a harsh look.
“Sure. Whatever,” Steve rasps, watching as you drop to your knees beside him.
Your fingers curl into his sleeping bag beside his shoulder, but you’re careful not to touch him.
He wishes you would.
You gesture impatiently at him, your hand a shadowy blur in the dark. “Go ahead and get it over with. I’m not sitting here all night. God.”
Steve rushes to obey, and when wraps his hand around his cock again, the rush is so intense it’s almost painful. The way you’re sitting there just watching him is making his head feel fuzzy, and his dick swell.
And look at you—pretending to not be affected in the slightest watching the flushed head poke out of his fist over and over as he jerks off in front of you. God, you turn him on so fucking much.
Steve heaves a stuttering breath, and his head drops back onto the ground as the pleasure pools in his gut. He thinks he’s doing a good job being quiet. But he can’t smother the moan that escapes him the second your warm hand brushes his shoulder.
“Steve,” you hiss, warning lacing your voice.
“Shut me up, then. Goddamn.” He groans, his cock twitching in his palm. “What are you even here for? I could do this myself—” At that moment, your hand finds his chest and, well, your fingers might as well be a defibrillator. His hips jerk, mouth dropping open in pleasure. “—oh, fuck yeah.”
Your touch is heaven. His eyelids threaten to shut as your fingers brush through his chest hair, over his ribs— so sure, and steady, soothing and warm. Like his flesh and bone is a map you know by heart.
He’s panting, desperate not to make a sound and give you a reason to take your hand away while your palm trails lower.
He raises his chin to catch a glimpse of your profile as the fireworks crack in the sky, raining down in bright fizzling pops that he feels in his chest.
Honestly, he should’ve known this is how the summer would end with you.
He’s known it, and yet, he’s run from it.
Because the last time he had you…God, he’s been such an idiot.
Last summer, when you came home from college for break, he’d been sitting on your doorstep. A silent understanding passed between you two, and then you’d grabbed his hand and taken him up to your room.
Afterwards, you were laying under him, sweaty and warm, eyes glowing with…with something that made his heart tug painfully. And suddenly, it all got to be too much.
He’d been craving you all semester. As if you were a long drag from a cigarette. And that gnawing ache didn’t surface with anyone else. Only you.
His chest swelled up tight, and the bridge of his nose started to burn, and he realized… he was scared.
Terrified, actually.
Because what if the both of you reaching out for each other was nothing but a trained response, like Pavlov’s dogs or some shit? What if you had built this trauma bond…thing? He wasn’t entirely sure what that even meant, but he knew that no one could know him so intrinsically, so deeply, so invasively and still want him anyway.
So, Steve proceeded to do the stupidest thing possible by dropping a kiss to your forehead, pulling his clothes back on, and walking out the door.
He told himself it was for the best. Months after, even though he thought of you constantly, and still woke up slicked in sweat, hands flying to his wounds in the dark, he never called you.
But when you showed up at Camp Woodwick, looking to earn some cash over the summer, same as him, all the walls he’d built up between him and his past came crashing down.
So, he pushed you away. For weeks. It was worse than he thought it would be, though. Because when he pushed, you pushed back harder.
His head swims with the knowledge that after a whole year without you, you’re here. You’re the same. Familiar. The smell of your hair, down to the soft breaths escaping to ur lips.
He’s still hard as a rock, but his hand isn’t cutting it. Not when what he really wants is right here in front of him.
Steve curses under his breath. “You wanna help me out, sweetheart? Give me that mouth?”
“W-what?” You snort. “You can hardly be quiet with your own hand, Harrington. You think you’re going to survive that?”
“Please? Just lick it. Just the tip.”
“Stop begging. Also, be qu—“
“Right. Right, I’ll be quiet,” Steve grumbles. “Just—if you’re gonna fucking march in here and tell me to do it faster, then the least you could do is help me out.” Another firework squeals, then pops, showering you in gold as you blink down at him.
Boisterous laughs drift over the water, and your eyes flick up instinctively to meet the tent wall before your bottom lip disappears between your teeth. His stomach flips in anticipation. He knows that look.
“C’mon,” he urges, fighting back a smirk. “You know how I like it, baby.”
Shit.
Steve knows that pet name has always been your weakness. You’re not sure exactly why. Maybe it’s because it reminded you that on the outside, you were just friends. But in bed…you were his.
You shouldn’t fall for a cheap trick like that. Look at him, biting the corner of his mouth like he’s trying not to smirk. Cocky bastard.
But, even so, you make the mistake of glancing down his body.
His hand slips away in a silent invitation, revealing his heavy cock jutting out from his soft tummy and you lose the war.
Rocks dig into your knees under the tent floor but you hardly pay them any mind, your clit already throbbing in anticipation of touching him.
“Fine. But only because it’s faster.” You say.
Your hand curls around him, reveling in the hot, velvety feel of him in your palm. A sound slips from his throat, sudden and unbidden.
You jerk your head up, and he can’t see your face clearly in the dark, but he knows your body language. The message is solidified when you bring your other hand up to rake through the hair on his chest, digging into his pec in warning.
Steve’s hand lands on yours, and the warmth seeping through his fingers doesn’t just make your pussy clench, it also makes your nose burn.
You turn your attention back to stroking him, ignoring the tightness in your lungs. Ignoring the way you’re practically holding hands across his chest.
“God, you’ve been kind of a bitch to me all summer,” Steve grunts, thrusting up into your touch. “You know that?”
You roll your eyes, even though he can’t see you. “Steve, you can’t call me a bitch at the same time you’re fucking my hand. Either we’re fighting or we’re fucking. Pick one. Jesus.”
“I don’t know.” His head falls back against the ground with a heavy thud. “We’re pretty good at both, apparently. God, your hand feel so g—”
“Shut the fuck up,” you hiss.
“Sorry! Sorry.”
Another firework shrieks into the sky, exploding in a loud pop, and showering you both in a flash of red. It lights up Steve’s body, illuminating the scars along his side. Long jagged things, carved deep under his ribs.
You can’t help but remember the panic that seized you when the Demobats descended on him. You’ll never forget the sickening horror that coursed through your body when you looked over to see him pale and shaking, dripping in blood.
You swallow hard. Then, as if pulled by some invisible string, you lower your head and brush your mouth against his skin. His core muscles flex at the soft glide of your tongue on his belly, but he tenses as your lips trace his scar line.
“Don’t—” he rasps. Suddenly, his hand flies down and tugs your chin away.
“What?” You whisper against his skin, a little teasing. But when you flick your eyes up to his, he looks away, raking a hand through his hair. Your hand slows around his cock and you frown. A thread of anxiety coils in your gut.
“What?” you repeat. “I was there, too, remember?”
“Yeah, I remember.” He lets out a short laugh, but the warmth is gone from his voice. “I just—really don’t want to be reminded of that right now.”
You pull back, hands falling away from him instantly.
Another bottle rocket screams, punctuating the heavy beat of silence that follows. Steve notices the shift in you, the way your body locks up in hesitation.
Sighing heavily, he raises his palms to his face and digs them into his eyes.
“Sorry, I’m—that was fucked up. I’m sorry.”
You sit back on your heels, suddenly unsure, and your eyes drop to the ground.
He combs through his hair again roughly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. I was just…there’s a kid here that reminds me of a little Eddie, and the scars—”
You smile softly. “Reed, right? I’ve been thinking the same thing all summer.”
“Every time I see those scars, I think about the bats, and then I think about losing Eddie, and then with you here—” He gestures towards you and he trails off.
You don’t need him to finish the thought, though. You can see it in the way his chest heaves, and the slight crack in his voice.
With a sigh, you settle down onto the ground beside him. He shuffles wordlessly, giving you room to lay on the other half of his sleeping bag.
“It’s okay, Steve. This is how it always was for us. Just—two people trying to get through it, you know? To feel something again.”
“Oh yeah? Is that all were?” His voice is deeper now. Huskier. It makes a lump build in your throat. “Was that all it was for you?”
You watch the light show fall across the tent ceiling together, muted little orbs glowing through the fabric.
“No,” you say softly. “But everything hits me at once sometimes, too, you know. And when that happens...fuck, I just need you. And that feeling…” The words fizzle out and fall like the embers in the sky, and your hand reaches up to clutch at your chest—like it would be easier just to rip out your heart and show him.
Steve hesitates, swallowing hard. “It’s not…bad, right? That feeling?”
“No, Steve. It’s not bad.”
A quiet moment passes, then he blows out a breath. “At college, they have these therapists. Robin dragged me to a session once, so I went.” You turn your head to look at him, but he keeps his eyes above. “I was scared, like, what if they didn’t believe me, you know? And, well, I’m not sure if Dr. Treya really believes me, but that doesn’t seem to matter much. She treats it all like it’s true, anyway.”
There’s a loud squeal of a bottle rocket, then laughter somewhere in the distance.
“I’m sorry we fought the last few weeks,” you whisper. “I was angry. But mostly just hurt. By last summer.”
Steve sits up a little at that, his strong arm bracing his torso as he looks down at you. “And you had every right to be,” he says. “I was a coward for leaving like I did. I got scared, I think. But, I’m getting better. At least, Robin says I am.”
You chuckle. “I’m sure she’s right.”
“But I am sorry, too. For that, and for…just for everything.”
You gaze up at him, and the urge to cup his face and bring his lips down to yours grips you by the spine. But Steve lays back down next to you before you can say anything.
“I’m proud of you for going to see a counselor,” you say into the dark after a long moment. “Does it help?”
“Yeah.” He swallows. “But I wish there was something I could do, too, you know? Other than just talk about it.”
He takes the world upon his shoulders, this boy.
He deserves to know that, at the end of the day, someone has him. Someone wants him. Not just for what he can give, but for who he is. He’s been pushing you away because you had that for him, and he didn’t know how to accept it. Until recently.
You see that now.
His bare arm is so warm against yours. You follow it down with your fingers until you find his hand, threading your fingers through his.
“Steve, you’ve already done so much. For everyone.”
His hand practically swallows yours. Long fingers, with blunt tips. They just remind you of all the ways he’s used them to pull orgasms from your body, one after the other.
All he does is give, give, give. Even when you give him hell all summer, fuck, he gives that right back.
Your hair whispers against the sleeping bag as you turn to look at him. His brown eyes meet yours, and his soft exhale ghosts across your cheek.
You search his face for permission, because he already knows what you’re asking. When his expression softens, just enough, you don’t hesitate. Hooking your leg around his waist, you roll on top of him and sit up.
“Let me take care of you,” you say.
He sucks in a breath at the sight of you rising above him, his hand coming to land hot and heavy on your thigh.
Scooting backwards, you lower your mouth to his torso. He hisses, his other hand flying to tangle in your hair. His cock has softened slightly against his hip, but you can fix that with your mouth in no time.
His chest heaves with a shaky breath. “Wait, no. No, baby.”
You suck a soft love bite on his hip before raising your eyes to his. “You don’t want it anymore?”
“No—shit, of course I want it, but—” He snorts, but his hand finds yours and he tries to pull you up. “If we’re going to do this, I want to do it for real. Not to distract each other. Not like we used to. Can…can you do that?”
You nod once. Then again. “Yes. Yes, of course, Steve. I wasn’t—I was just—” your heart slams into your throat. “I still love you.”
A slow, sweet smile spreads across Steve’s face. Your cheeks flush, and you try to squirm away, but Steve squeezes your thigh, urging you to find his eyes again. And when you do, you see that familiar heat is back.
“Good,” he says. “Now we can get down to the real question of what the fuck do you think you’re doing barging into my tent when I’m masturbating, you little brat?”
Heat licks up your spine, and you bite back a grin. “I told you! You were being loud.”
“Yeah, sure, now tell me the real reason.”
“That is the real reason!”
“Don’t lie to me.”
You open your mouth to argue, but his hands clamp down on your hips before you can, and in one smooth motion, he flips you so you’re on your back. Your heart slams against your ribs as he pulls you down under him, his chest rising and falling against yours.
“Just admit it,” he says, a cocky grin twisting his lips right over yours. “You wanted me to lick that pretty pussy for you, didn’t you?”
Your panties dampen instantly, pulsing in anticipation of feeling his mouth on you after so long.
You might have been at each other’s throats for weeks, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t like it. You saw it in his eyes by the campfire and by every rough two-hand touch football game. Every time your face went red and you mouthed off at him he’d just smile and lift his eyebrows as if to say, ‘is that all you got?’ Maybe crook two fingers at you with a cocky tilt of his head, urging you to ‘give me more.’
Well, you could definitely give him more.
“I don’t know, Harrington,” you sigh, tilt your head against the tent floor in mock confusion. “I hardly remember what getting head from you is like.”
His grin turns wicked. Then suddenly, he’s moving—greedy hands tugging at your shorts.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he says, voice dripping in that mocking tone that always makes you wet. “I thought maybe you’d want me to do that thing my tongue that always—” A whimper escapes your throat and he breaks off mid-sentence with an openmouthed laugh. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
He crawls down your body, taking your shorts and underwear with him, and you gasp when something hard and hot brushes your thigh. Glad to see he’s sporting that erection again. You feel a fleeting disappointment at the fact you haven’t gotten to suck him off yet, but it’s probably better this way, to be honest.
It’s literally impossible to make Steve Harrington be quiet while getting a blowjob—
Without warning, he plunges two fingers deep into your slick channel. Your breath stutters, hips bucking into his palm on instinct. He groans out loud, but you’re too blissed out by the stretch that you can’t even get onto him for it.
Lungs seizing, heart pounding, you squirm on the slippery fabric of his sleeping bag, trying to get even closer. Your nipples harden against your T-shirt, begging for his touch. For more of him.
You peek down your body just in time to see his head disappear between your thighs, and then his mouth is on you. God, his tongue is so warm and wet against your clit, and his skillful fingers stroke you just right. In and out, then curling into the spongey spot inside that has your mouth dropping open.
“Missed those sounds you make,” he says, voice muffled against your pussy.
Shit.
You hadn’t even realized you were making noise. You dig your knee into his side in retaliation and he chuckles, squirming away before diving in again.
He licks messy, broad strokes, tasting you on purpose, getting you all over his tongue. When you grind up into his face he grabs you by the hips and moves with you, following your every wriggle and writhe.
Yep, his mouth still makes the world feel dull, reducing your hearing to the whoosh of your heartbeat in your ears as everything else just fades away into mind numbing bliss—
“Shut up,” Steve says, pulls back from you with a wicked grin. His face is covered in your arousal, glinting in the firework light, and the sight makes you clench around his fingers. “Seriously, shut up if you don’t want them to hear you.”
“Wha—Steve!” You whine, canting your hips up into his mouth again as he lowers himself back down to you. “H-help.”
He shrugs. “I’m not the one who gives a shit if they hear.”
The vibrations of his voice against your clit rips a moan from your throat, unbidden, and your lips cinch together. Your hand flies to your hip, finding his fingers there. You try to pull his hand up but he shakes off your touch, holding onto your waist and puling you roughly against his tongue.
You whine in protest, and go to pull on his hand again, but that’s a mistake.
He brings his palm down to your inner thigh with a sharp smack that has your back arching off the ground, your eyes narrowing in warning.
“Cover your own mouth, sweetheart, fuck,” he chuckles, giving your clit a soothing series of licks. “I’m busy.”
“Fuck you,” you whisper, but it quickly turns into a needy whine when he sucks the swollen nub into his mouth.
Steve continues to stretch you out on his fingers, murmuring dirty things into your pussy as he does. How sweet you taste. How tightly you’re squeezing his fingers. But you barely hear any of it.
You’re so wet—both from his mouth and your arousal—that your inner thighs slick together when you try to squeeze them. He yanks your legs apart again, and you’re powerless to stop him because the pads of his fingers are dragging out tendrils of pleasure from your spine you haven’t felt in a year.
Thankfully, the fireworks seem to be reaching a peak outside— loud bangs and pops going off every few seconds help drown out the sounds of your needy pussy and blissed-out sighs. Because frankly, you don’t have the brain power to think about anything except how desperately you need him inside you.
You whimper again accidentally. “Steve—”
“Okay, baby,” he replies instantly, knowing what you need by the tone in your voice alone. His fingers slip out and he rises up over you, your knees falling open eagerly as he lines himself up.
When he notches the tip of his cock at your entrance, your cunt greedily sucks him in. He gasps, hips bucking forward instinctively, and neither one of you are able to stop the mixed groans that ensue from finally, finally being connected like this again after so long.
Big hands scramble for a hold on your waist, blunt nails pinching your skin as he drags himself back, then forth, slamming up into you with a depth that makes you sob.
“Still fuckin’ made for me,” he groans. “Goddamnit.”
You’re panting, arms wrapped around his shoulders, biting the skin of your forearm to keep from moaning as his hips roll slow and deliberate.
“Good girl,” he praises, and you shudder, feeling the ache grow sharper. “Staying so quiet, look at you. You can’t ask me to be silent when you come around me, okay? Fuck—that’s like being tortured all over again.”
You shoot him a withering look even as you writhe underneath him. “That’s not funny.”
He laughs, and his silhouette shifts over you, his cock driving deeper and hitting that spot inside you that makes you see sparks that aren’t there. “Sorry, sweetheart. I just—oh yeah, grind that clit into me. That’s it.”
Your hands rake through his hair, desperately trying to hold onto something. But the force behind his thrusts causes you to pull on the strands, and, well, that was a mistake.
His teeth sink into the skin of your shoulder in order to stay somewhat quiet, and oh—fuck. How could you have forgotten what pulling his hair does to him? Stars burst behind your eyes as the fireworks crackle overhead, and the tension between your hips coils tighter.
“Fuck—Steve,” you gush. “Please.”
“What do you need?” He rasps against your throat, sucking and biting. “I’m all yours.”
Little tremors course though your legs as your orgasm builds, the swollen head of his cock nudging those spots deep inside that ache for him.
Only him.
“You need me to kiss you?” he says, breath hot in your ear. “Need me to shut you up?”
You nod frantically.
“Go on, ask me for it.”
You whimper, too far gone to play the game anymore. “Kiss me, Stevie. Please, please—”
“Fuck,” Steve groans at the nickname he hasn’t heard in so long, and instantly lowers his mouth to yours.
The first brush of his lips against yours makes you want to cry.
“Missed you, baby,” he says, then kisses you deeper, his tongue dipping into your mouth and swirling with yours. “So much. Missed kissing you. Missed talking with you.” He hesitates, pulling back slightly before planting one soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Missed loving you. But I guess I never really stopped, did I?”
Your eyes connect for one heartbreaking, devestatingly sweet second before you pull him back down, pouring your love for him into the gentle, yet desperate stroke of your tongue against his.
Feeling you kiss him like that snaps something deep inside him.
Your inner muscles clamps down around him as his thrusts turn messy and hard, and his hands run over your shoulders, your breasts, your hips, pulling your body back down to meet his every thrust.
The pleasure builds to an insurmountable level as he rips your shirt up to capture your nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and making you want to scream.
You flatten your palm over your lips, whimpering through the gaps in your fingers over and over, squeezing your eyes shut as Steve pushes you higher and higher until finally—you’re falling.
Your teeth bite into your fingers hard to muffle your moans as your pussy clenches down like a vice on Steve’s cock rhythmically, your orgasm rushing through you.
He lets out a choked sound above you, and with the way his chest falls in a sequence of familiar pants, you know he’s close. Through the pleasured haze, your other hand flies to cover his mouth just in time for his orgasm to hit.
“Mmhmm, mhhhmm.” Steve whines loudly, as his body tenses, and his cock twitches inside you. And you have no choice but to shove your fingers inside his lips, forcing him to suck on them as he reaches his peak. His eyes roll back as he bullies his cock against your cervix, painting your walls with his come, even as his tongue strokes your knuckles tenderly and reverently.
It takes awhile for the both of you to come back down to earth, but eventually, you let your fingers fall from his mouth and he laughs breathlessly, dipping to give you one last slow kiss before slipping out of you.
He fumbles around for his T-shirt in the darkness and then cleans you up with care, which makes your heart twist. Once he’s done, he settles on his side, and pulls you into him, your back pressed to his chest. You burrow into him, his arm settling around you, and it’s amazing how quickly your lashes start to fall, wrapped up in this familiar comfort.
“So…truce?” Steve whispers into the crook of your shoulder. You laugh softly.
Even under a hazardously leaning tent, and a sky littered with mini explosions, the world seems a little less dark right now. The past, a little less heavy.
Maybe it’s because neither of you are running away from it, anymore. But rather, facing it. Together.
And because you know, without a shadow of a doubt, Steve Harrington’s heartbeat will always be in your future.
“Truce.”
a/n: the tent definitely collapses on top of them five minutes later, by the way. also, my idea originally was not nearly as angsty, but don’t you just love it when characters highjack your story? god, the fics always turn out so much better that way.
steve masterlist | cutie banner by @cursed-carmine
you're obsessed with your boyfriend's biceps and jj wants to test just how obsessed
cw: sexting, self-pleasure (f and m), sex toys (dildo), rough sex, slight choking, headlock, mirror sex, unprotected p in v, fingering, hair pulling, biting (duh, it's jj's biceps hehe)
It was no secret that you were obsessed with your boyfriend’s biceps — constantly asking JJ to send you pictures of him flexing, wrapping your hand around his upper arm and holding on while the two of you walked. Your favorite had to be watching his biceps strain when he’d hold himself over you as he fucked you into the mattress. Your eyes would roll back, the sight enough to have you coming around him.
So when JJ walks out of the chateau wearing a red muscle tee, arms on full display, you can’t help the way your words trail off mid-sentence or the way your eyes trace down the length of his arms. JJ’s oblivious, talking to John B, trying to convince him that he can be trusted with the twinkie for the day.
He raises his arms, pointing to his chest as he pleads with John B, “Come on man, s’me, you can trust me.”
You’re not paying attention to what the girls are talking about — Sarah and Kie rolling their eyes playfully when Cleo nods her head in JJ’s direction with a smirk, silently explaining why you’d gone bye-bye. You were practically salivating at the sight of his arm flexing, skin stretched tight around the ripple of muscle. He looked too good in that tee. You wanted to rip it off him and climb him like a tree.
JJ looks over at you, smirking when he notices the way your eyes haven’t left his arms, or the way you gulp when his eyes meet yours. You look away, smiling nervously as JJ comes to sit next to you. He pulls you onto his lap, arm wrapping around you as he rests his chin on your shoulder. You feel the hard press of his chest to your back — warm and steady. He smells like the cheap cologne you bought him that you’d come to love. It smelt like safety and love and pure want.
JJ notices the way you shift against him — trying and failing to pay attention to what the group is talking about. He knows the effect he has on you— pressing himself closer, moving his lips to the shell of your ear.
“What’s wrong baby? You seem like you’re on edge,” JJ whispers into your ear.
“Nothing’s wrong Jayj, just missed you,” you mumble as you turn your head, nuzzling your face against his upper arm and placing a soft kiss to the skin. JJ shakes his head in disbelief, letting out a chuckle as his heart swells, completely in awe of his beautiful girlfriend so head over heels for him.
He knows it’s more than that, knows you’ve been wanting him for days, sending him texts of all the things you wanted him to do to you when you see him.
I miss you so much JJ, want your fingers in me so bad
You had sent a video a couple minutes later — fingers sliding in and out of yourself, the sound of wet squelching heard along with your soft moans.
Mine don’t get the spot like yours do. Want to hold onto your arm while you push them in knuckle deep
JJ had watched that video on repeat, groaning at the sounds of your wet pussy, sending you a video of his hand stroking his cock, arm flexing in the mirror before coming all over his hand, moaning your name.
It had been all you needed to reach your orgasm, coming hard as you pictured him hovering over you.
The next day it was a video of you fucking your dildo into yourself, moaning his name as your thighs shook.
Need your dick deep inside me JJ please
Want you to wrap your arm around my neck and fuck me from behind
JJ could barely think straight when he opened your message, hand running down his face in defeat as he pulled his hard dick out of his shorts.
Fuck baby, you’re going to be the death of me, i’m so fucking hard you have no idea, want to fuck that pussy so bad
You’d been going back and forth for the past week, both of you working late and well — busy. Today however, your schedules had lined up and you had your place to yourself for the night. Your panties were already soaked as the messages you had sent to each other played through your mind. You could barely care that you hadn’t seen the rest of your friends for two weeks — needing JJ more than ever.
“I know how much you love when I wear this shirt. Know how much you love looking at my arms. You wanna take it off me?” JJ’s voice is low and rough in your ear, sending warmth down your spine.
You nod slowly, pressing your thighs together, heart beating out of your chest at JJ’s words. You’re so aware of the group sitting so close, of your ass pressed to JJ’s dick. You feel him push his hips up — just the slightest bit — the movement so small it could easily be mistaken as JJ shifting his weight.
“Yeah I know you do baby.” He kisses the back of your neck, brushing your hair out of the way gently. His hand comes to rest on your thigh, thumb rubbing soft circles into your skin as you try to hold back a moan at the feel of him kissing your neck. You look around frantically — no one has noticed a thing, everyone too focused on John B and Sarah talking.
You gasp when you feel him do it again, the feel of his dick hardening against your ass almost too much to bear. You can feel yourself dripping, panties sticking to you almost uncomfortably, pussy practically throbbing with need now.
“JJ, pleaseee, let’s go.” You whine softly, head turned towards him so the others don’t hear.
“Not yet baby, want to have you so ready for me, you’re trembling before I even fuck you.” JJ chuckles as you whine in protest, tugging on his hand.
JJ continues tracing maddeningly soft circles to your bare thigh, hand going higher and higher until his thumb is under the hem of your skirt. He places a kiss to the back of your neck every now and then, shifting underneath you, his hard dick pressing into your ass every time. You try to shift so that your pussy presses against his thigh — needing friction more than air, but JJ catches it — holding you in place, arm flexing against your stomach.
“Want me to fuck you now baby?”
You could cry as you nod — desperate for him to take you home.
JJ groans when you push your ass into him, finally snapping and getting up, waving a quick goodbye to the pogues, not at all subtle about the way he drags you away — you giggling as he pushes you against the door of the twinkie, arm braced next to your head, lips catching yours in a heated kiss. His hands are all over you, groping at your chest, gripping your jaw hard as he guides your mouth along his.
“Fuck, get in, get in.” JJ rushes to the other side, turning the ignition on and getting to yours in record time. He had almost pulled over to the side of the road to fuck you then and there when you had started palming at him through his shorts, your other hand rubbing over the wet spot on your panties, moaning JJ’s name as he drove.
You’re in your bathroom now, completely naked, sitting on your sink with your legs wrapped around JJ’s waist, his fingers curling into you over and over as you hold onto him, watching the way the muscles in his arm flex with every movement. You’d already come once— JJ refusing to stop, the heel of his hand pressing into your clit.
“You mean all that shit you sent me? You really want me to put you in a headlock and fuck you from behind?” JJ’s breathless as he pulls away from your neck.
“Mhm, please JJ.” You grind your hips forward, chasing your orgasm.
“Fuck baby, you sure?”
You smirk before turning your head to his other arm, biting down on his bicep as JJ groans, rutting his hips against your leg.
“M’sure, want it wrapped around me, pressing into my cheek while I watch in the mirror.”
“If it’s too much or you need me to stop, tap my arm twice, okay?”
“I will, now please fuck me JJ.”
“You asked for it baby.”
It’s so much — the stretch of him, the drag — every inch of his cock pushing through your warm wet walls.
He thrusts hard. Deep.
You cry out—his tip hitting that soft spot inside you that has you shaking, knees threatening to give out. Your head falls forward — limp — eyes rolling back, not a single coherent thought running through you.
You come back to the room when you feel a soft sting — JJ tugging at the roots of your hair — hard. His bicep presses into your cheek, arm tightening around your neck. You let out a strangled sound, somewhere between a moan and a gasp.
“Look at me, baby. You’re gonna watch me fuck you, watch me ruin you.” His lips brush over your ear, your eyes fluttering closed at the feel of his hot breath.
JJ places a soft kiss to your cheek, smirking at you in the mirror, watching as your eyes struggle to stay open. His dick nudges that spot inside you again — hard, steady and then again.
And again.
And again.
Your head threatens to fall forward, mind going dumb on the pleasure rolling through you. You let out a soft, almost broken sound. It’s so small, barely a whimper, a moan of JJ’s name. The sound runs down his spine, settling at the base, his hips thrusting forward even harder.
“Oh my god JJ! Fuuuck JJ — that’s — you feel—” Your words cut off with a loud moan as JJ fucks you harder, your hips jutting against the hard sink, sure to leave bruises. You can barely care when JJ’s fucking you so good, you see stars.
Your hands scramble for purchase, landing on the edge of the sink and gripping tight before quickly moving to hold onto his arm as it tightens around your neck.
JJ’s eyes snap to yours in the mirror, slowing his thrusts and loosening his grip for a second to check that you’re okay. You push your ass back onto him, and push your cheek into his bicep, giving him a small nod and smiling wickedly as you watch his eyes roll back when you fuck yourself back onto him. You turn your head in his grip, and bite down on his bicep — hard.
“Fuck, my filthy girl, you’re so perfect.” JJ practically growls, grip tightening, locking your head in place. His other hand digs into your hip as he pounds into you — the sounds of skin smacking filling the room once more.
“Fuck JJ, m’gonna come again, fuck fuck fuck, please JJ please.” Your eyes close as you feel yourself get close, snapping open when you feel JJ pull your hair.
“Watch, don’t take your — fuckkk ahh baby — don’t take…your eyes off me when you come.” JJ grunts as he fucks you impossibly harder.
Your orgasm crashes into you like never before — your vision going completely white as you babble JJ’s name incoherently, clenching around him again and again.
“Fuck baby, m’so close, where do you want me — shit baby, m’coming.”
“Inside JJ, please, please,” you beg as you push your hips back to meet his thrusts, desperate to feel him reach his high. He comes with a loud groan, spilling inside you as his hips falter. You feel the rush of him, warm and wet, and push your hips back harder, fucking him through it. You come again — hot and fast — gushing around him and JJ’s breath stutters, head falling limp to your shoulder.
“Fuck baby, did you just come again? That quick?” JJ’s breathless, eyes wide as he feels you clench around him, sucking him in — unable to let out anything other than a loud moan.
Your body is trembling, legs like jelly and brain turned to complete mush, whimpering as he pulls out of you. You can barely breathe, eyes still fluttering shut, head falling limp onto JJ’s shoulder. He turns you in his hold, holding you to his chest as his hand rubs up and down your back.
You pull back slowly, looking up at him — soft, dazed, worshipful. His hand comes to rest on the side of your face, thumb brushing back and forth across your cheek as he gazes down at you with pure adoration.
“Fuck baby, are you okay?”
You giggle softly, “More than okay, JJ, that was perfect.”
His lips find yours in a soft kiss, smiling against your lips, before pulling away laughing.
“Did you really come again just from me coming inside you?” JJ teases.
Your hand swats at his chest, gasping in mock offense. “Shut up, you love it.”
He chuckles as he kisses your forehead, “I do love it, and I love you.”
You turn away from him to turn the shower on — smiling wide, teasing.
“I love you too, but not as much as I love your biceps.” Your hand wraps around his right arm, squeezing tight as you fake moan.
JJ rolls his eyes playfully, shaking his head at you.
God, you’re perfect, he thinks. His girl.
read my other works here: masterlist
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welcome to pelican town! | stardew valley farmer!steve
when steve’s grandfather died, steve hadn’t been expecting a lot. a watch maybe or some of his old suit jackets. the very last thing steve had been expecting was to inherit a whole damn farm.
and sure, the farm needed a lot of work and sure—mayor lewis was a little annoying but steve was looking forward to a challenge and a distraction from all that had happened in hawkins.
on his fourth day after moving onto the farm and into what could only be described as a glorified shed, he went to pierre’s general store to buy more parsnip seeds. he had decided to start simple despite knowing cauliflower’s would probably sell for a lot more, steve just wanted an easy first harvest. he also still didn’t really have any idea what he was doing.
“are you the new farmer?”
steve nearly drops all of the packets of parsnip seeds he had been holding.
“shit! yeah, i’m steve—”
he turns to greet whoever it was who had scared the life out of him but he’s a little lost for words when he sees you. because you were so damn pretty.
“steve,” you repeat with a kind smile before you tell him your name. “it’s good to meet you steve. welcome to pelican town.”
steve smiles back at you, something funny happening in his gut when he thought about how much he liked your name and your smile.
“happy to be here,” steve says and now that he met you—he meant it.
pairing: steve harrington/reader/gator tillman // tillington x reader
wc: 3.3k
tags: MDNI//SMUT- use of “slut,” threesome, vaginal fingering, [unsafe] vaginal sex, oral sex (f + m receiving), come eating, mean!steve, sweet!gator
a/n: based on two asks i received from @tangledluver and 🤿anon
reminder! my blog is 18+ so please do not interact with my posts if you are not 18. see my blog guidelines if you have any questions!
&&
You find yourself between Steve and Gator more often than not, and find yourself more often than not asking how you could be so lucky.
They have you kneeling on the bed between them, Gator pressed up against your front, his cock trapped between your bodies, precome already leaking out of his slit and smearing over your stomach, as he kisses you soft and sweet, the way he always acts with you. His hands rest on your waist, rubbing at you a little with his thumbs, the quiet smacks of your lips moving together completely drowned out by Steve, behind you.
He’s sucking at your neck, the little crook where it meets your shoulder, moaning as he rubs his cock against you, up between your ass cheeks. He’s not subtle一never has been一so when he fit his thick length between you, you could only blush and look to Gator for the affection you craved.
“I gotcha,” Gator mumbles against your lips, but even as he says it, you feel one of Steve’s arms move between you.
“Steve,” you say, preemptively into Gator’s mouth, as he lets two fingers drag over your mound, pressing between your folds to find your clit.
“Who gotcha?” Steve asks, the edge to his voice not uncommon, so expected that neither you nor Gator are thrown off by it.
You just moan in response, as Steve ruts his cock against you, rubbing your clit in firm circles, while Gator moves his hands from your waist to your back, pulling you toward him. You deepen the kiss, tongue licking over his as he hums quietly, loving your taste, your desperation.
“You can tell him, angel,” Gator whispers to you, but it’s not quiet and Steve only snickers in response.
“Yeah,” he says, moving his hand down and away from your clit as he presses against you lower, fingertips entering your cunt with no resistance, your wet slit opening for him easily. “Tell me.”
“Steve,” you say again, but this time it’s breathy, whiny, your knees moving a bit further apart. It gives him better access to your pussy, but it lessens some of the friction on his cock as he was fucking it against you, and he pulls back.
“Come on, angel,” Steve says, and the term of endearment in his tone of voice hits completely different. You feel yourself clench up around his fingers. “I know you wanna make this good for us, don’t you?”
“Yes,” you whimper, turning away from Gator to appease Steve, who takes hold of your chin in his free hand and guides your mouth to his, licking into your mouth harshly, kissing you with abandon. In front of you, Gator has moved his hands to your tits, flicking your nipples with his thumbs as Steve takes your attention for the time being一or so he thinks. While you let Steve take control of the kiss, your eyes fluttering shut and your tongue moving against his, sloppily kissing him back, you move both of your hands down between yourself and Gator, circling his cock with one and cupping his balls with the other.
His hips kick into you, but you don’t falter, don’t do anything other than press yourself back against Steve, his thick length still moving against your ass as you kiss him; with your hands, you stroke Gator off, smearing his dripping precome over his heated prick, gently massaging his balls as he presses his face into your neck.
“Feels so good, angel,” he manages to say, quietly, so quiet you think maybe it really was just for you一but no, Steve hears, and he snickers.
“No one better than this little slut,” Steve says, and you tighten up around his fingers again. “God, she likes that so much.” He scissors his fingers inside of you, stretching you open on them. “Don’t you?” he asks. He pulls back enough to look directly at you, at the side of your face he can see since you’re still twisted up between the two of them. “Say it.”
“I like it,” you say, weakly, thumb rubbing at the sensitive spot between Gator’s balls and the base of his cock; you feel him twitch in your other hand, and you stroke him a little quicker.
“Like what?” Steve prompts you.
“Making you feel good,” you answer, but you know that’s not what he wants.
Steve stops moving, your lower back stained with his precome, wet from where he was rubbing against you, grinding against your ass, and he cocks his head to the side so he can see you a little more fully. You don’t stop touching Gator until Steve circles you with his arms and takes hold of your wrists, pulling them behind your back.
“You know what we wanna hear you say,” he says, glancing at Gator, who’s watching you both with rapt attention, ready to intervene if Steve crosses the line that you’ve set with him. He hasn’t, not yet.
“Steve,” you try, not even bothering to resist the way he’s holding you because you love it when he strongarms you like this, holds your wrists together in one big hand, makes you say the most profane shit because it gets all three of you off, even if Gator enjoys it inwardly and Steve is the one with the outward desire to make it all happen.
“Say it,” he says, pulling you roughly against his front. The underside of his cock slides against your ass cheek as he curls himself into you, over you, lips on the shell of your ear. “Don’t keep us waiting, angel.”
“Like being your slut,” you say, finally, and you practically feel Steve’s cock throb against you as he chuckles, cupping your face with his free hand and moving your head so he can kiss you again.
“That’s a good girl,” he says. “So good. So easy. It’s why we keep you around, right, Tillman?”
“Something like that,” Gator half agrees, because while he knows this is just dirty talk for right now, he doesn’t ever like insinuating that this is all you’re good for. You’re in a relationship一he loves you. Both of you.
“You’re too fuckin’ soft, Tillman,” Steve says, letting you go with both hands before he reaches past you to grip Gator’s shoulder, pulling him forward so you’re fully trapped between the two of them. Steve kisses Gator hard, teeth nipping at his lower lip until Gator parts them for him, and then they’re kissing above you, Steve’s cock stiff and poking you, Gator’s wet with precome as you slick your hand up and down his shaft. The sound of it is audible as Steve pulls away, and he tucks his chin on your shoulder, watching as you jerk Gator off wordlessly.
“Hm,” Steve says, considering the sight in front of him, then sliding his hand down from Gator’s shoulder to pinch his nipple, playing with it roughly, then watching as you press a soft kiss to the other one as Gator runs his hand over your hair protectively. “Not that soft, I guess.”
“You talk too much, Harrington,” Gator says, and Steve just laughs, pushing Gator backward, away from you, by his shoulder.
Once there’s enough room between the two men, Steve places his hands on your shoulders and guides you down onto all fours, your hands splaying out on the bedsheets. He did it for you一this is your favorite position, and he could have easily moved you to bend over the side of the bed or to sit on Gator’s cock while he licked your clit一but no. Even in the moments where he’s being a fucking dick, he still thinks of you, and it makes your heart stutter a little in your chest.
Well, that一and the feeling of him not wasting any time to press the head of his cock against your slit, breaching you almost immediately, pushing into you and feeling your heated walls open for him.
“God fucking damn it, our angel is tight,” Steve says, meeting Gator’s eyes.
“She really is perfect,” Gator replies, and he takes hold of his cock with one hand, rubbing over the slit in the head with his thumb. With the other hand, he cups it beneath your chin and turns your face up to look at him. “You good?” he asks. “Ready?”
You’re not able to easily answer, because Steve behind you is already pounding away, his hips slapping yours as he fucks you raw, hard and fast, his staccato pace already forcing your eyes to close halfway, fucked out on just one cock when they’re going to give you two in mere moments.
“Angel,” Gator’s voice hits you softly, and you blink your eyes open, looking up at him. With a measured movement, he traces your lips with his thumb, then angles the tip of his cock against them instead. “Ready?”
“Ready,” you answer, precome spreading on your upper lip as you speak, and then your jaw is just open and he’s easing himself inside your mouth. He gets the head in and then leaves it there, heavy and wet on your tongue, because Steve behind you is fucking your face onto Gator’s length, the force of his strokes into you pushing you further onto Gator’s cock.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Gator mumbles, holding Steve’s gaze for a moment before they both look down to where Steve is entering you. You’re both wet with your arousal, your thighs flecked with it, his cock soaked as he pistons in and out of your cunt, his hands moving to hold your hips even as you move both of your hands up to Gator’s, one at a time, thumbs pressing into his front as you take him to the hilt, nose pressing into the shock of curly hair beneath his bellybutton. You swallow around him, eyes closed, tongue laving against the underside of his cock as the two of you move, just a little, with each thrust Steve makes into you.
Gator cups your face with one hand, his thumb moving over your closed lid, eyelashes soft against the pad of his finger. You moan low in your throat, flexing your hips a little to change the angle at which Steve is driving into you一and then you pull off of him, just a little, to suck the head. You moan again as a huge spurt of precome lands on your tongue, the sound of it muffled by his cock, but you can tell he feels it because he cards his free hand into your hair.
“So fuckin’一fuckin’ sweet t’me, angel,” Gator says, and he glances up at Steve, because even though he’s fucking your pussy, Gator is fucking your mouth and you have a bit more control over what’s happening up there, choosing how to pleasure him with your lips and tongue, and he can hear you moaning, knows how it must feel for Gator to be inside your mouth, near your throat, as those vibrations hit his cock.
Steve slides one of his hands up your back, moving down over you just a bit, until he reaches your shoulder, and he tightens his hold there, really leaning into you as he snaps his hips forward, fucking you harder, faster, spurred on by jealousy he knows he doesn’t need to feel but Gator is playing it up anyway.
The sudden force of Steve’s thrusts make you moan again around Gator一and then you’re gagging on his cock a little, because Steve’s hand is in your hair too, his hold firmer, much firmer. He pushes your face against Gator, then pulls you back, off of him, turning your face toward his where he’s resting on top of you now, and he kisses you, rough, harsh, deep, tasting Gator on your tongue. He looses a shuddering sigh, sucking your tongue before he’s gone, suddenly, one of Gator’s hands fisted around a decent chunk of Steve’s hair, tugging him away from your mouth even as you do try to chase him to continue the kiss.
But it’s futile一Gator has yanked Steve up and away, and you watch for a moment, as Gator pulls Steve’s face right up to his. Steve isn’t resisting. In fact, from what you can see一and feel, his cock buried deep inside you, twitching a little as Gator manhandles him一he likes it enough to see where this is going.
“How d’ya like that kinda treatment, Stevie?” Gator asks, and you feel Steve grind his cock even deeper into you as you squeeze around him, because holy fucking shit that was so fucking hot and you feel like you might fucking come just from the wave of arousal that washed over you.
“I一” Steve starts, but Gator pulls his hair and Steve winces, their lips brushing together.
“Ya like it?” Gator asks, not giving Steve a chance to reply as he licks into Steve’s mouth, taking his lips in a heated kiss that has you swallowing thickly and watching for another few seconds. You’ve seen them kiss before一though not from this angle, really一and you can’t see much, so you just close your eyes, imagine the two of them making out and grinding their cocks together, and shift one of your hands from Gator’s hip to his length, holding it steady as you sink your mouth back down onto it, sucking him off as you bob your head on him.
Above you, Gator moans into Steve’s mouth, and Steve begins fucking you again, pulling out before moving back in, and you’re only marginally surprised when Steve bucks into you roughly once一twice一three times, then four, and then he’s filling you up, finishing deep inside of you as he moans into Gator’s mouth this time, his release hot and thick inside you. You groan heavily around Gator’s cock, and you hear one final smack above you as the two of them pull apart. Gator halfheartedly pushes Steve back from him a little, and he pulls out of you, his spent cock streaking his come down your thigh.
You just keep working your mouth over Gator, feeling the bed dip a little as Steve’s hands move to your inner thighs, pushing your legs apart as you feel his nose just barely brush over your folds, and then Gator’s voice comes again.
“Nuh uh,” he says, and you feel Steve pull away from you as Gator eases you off of him by your jaw, touch gentle, much gentler than he was with Steve. “I don’t think ya earned that, Harrington.”
You shuffle back on the bed to kneel beside Steve, watching as Gator shifts to sit, then lie flat.
“Angel, you come here,” he says to you, and you move closer, trying like hell to keep your cunt squeezed tight so none of Steve’s spunk leaks out of you. You let Gator position you over himself, facing Steve, who looks on with a pinched expression, his mouth a little petulant scowl.
“And what am I supposed to do?” Steve asks, finally, as Gator puts his hands on your hips and begins to lower your cunt to his mouth, tongue already reaching to lick up at it. “Watch?”
Gator taps your hip with two fingers and your jaw drops open as you inhale deeply, his mouth on your pussy, finally, licking through your folds as he tastes Steve inside you.
“I think,” you manage to say. “I think you一” You drop your gaze to Gator’s cock, flagging over his thigh. “Suck.”
Steve scoffs, but it’s not like it’s the first time. It is the first time under these kind of circumstances, though, where Gator got the better of him. He crawls forward, places one hand on Gator’s thigh, and uses the other to take hold of his spit-slick cock with two fingers on the top, his thumb pressing against the underside. Holding Gator steady, Steve presses his lips against the head and parts them as he lowers his mouth onto Gator, taking him in just as you had, bobbing his head onto him the way you both know Gator likes.
“That’s it,” you say, and Steve’s eyes flick up to you in disbelief. But you can tell, by the plaintive way he whimpers around the dick in his mouth, that oh一he likes it.
Below you, you’re grinding your pussy into Gator’s waiting mouth, riding his face as Steve’s come oozes out of you onto Gator’s tongue, his lips, his chin, and he sucks at your folds before pulling you just a little bit backward so he can catch your clit with his tongue, laving it over your hard little bead while Steve watches him and you watch Steve. You lean forward, hands on Gator’s waist, lowering yourself so you’re eye to eye with Steve, and you press a soft kiss to his face, the freckles adorning the apple of his cheek. He moans around Gator’s cock.
“Let me,” you whisper, and Steve meets your eyes, the hazel of them shining, as you curl your hips into Gator’s mouth and Steve pulls off his cock.
You lean in, and then both of you have your mouths on Gator’s shaft, both of you lick at him and suck at the sides, neither neglecting the tip一you take turns suckling at it, until his hips are kicking and so are yours一and as much as Gator wants to get you off first, two mouths on his cock are too much. He presses his head back into the pillow, unable to keep his mouth on you, and he comes without much warning, his semen landing on your cheek, Steve’s hair, ropes of it criss-crossing over the both of you.
“Up,” Steve says, pushing himself onto his knees and then pushing you backward, shoving you back, your cunt landing back on Gator’s chin.
“Steve一” you try, but he’s straddling Gator now, knees on either side as he lays down on top of him, nosing in between your thighs to lap at your clit until Gator can resume what he was doing to you too.
“Man up, Tillman,” Steve says, pulling back just long enough to see Gator part his lips beneath you, tongue disappearing up into your pussy, then moving back out covered with Steve’s own release. “Exactly right for her. God damn, that’s what I like to fucking see.”
“Gat一Gator,” you whine, hands coming to rest on Steve’s shoulder as Gator sucks Steve’s come out of your slit and Steve flicks his tongue over you, massaging your swollen clit with the wet muscle. “Steve一”
“Go on, angel,” Steve says, before diving right back in. He moves one hand to your thigh, pushing you a little further open, your cunt spasming as your orgasm builds.
Another moment of Gator’s tongue delving inside of you, another harsh suck of Steve’s lips on your clit, and you finally release all of the tension in your lower body, your orgasm so intense that you forget that Gator below you needs to breathe, that Steve can and does feel your fingernails cutting half moons into the skin of his back. They keep their mouths working on you until you whimper, the sensation of both of them on you too much, and Steve helps you off of Gator, laying you down as carefully as one would a porcelain doll.
He climbs off the bed, returns with a wet washcloth, and takes care of you, wiping your face first, taking care with your eyes and your lips, then down between your legs. He moves on to Gator, maybe not as gentle but still just as attentive, and when the three of you settle down for a moment, before crowding into the bathroom for proper cleanup, Steve lays in the middle, you and Gator both draped over him, the three of you boneless, satisfied, soft.
&&
