pov: your World Cup star boyfriend can't take care of you - but his rival, Gator Tillman? Oh, he definitely can.
part one | part two
wc: 3.4k
MDNI NSFW
warnings: kinda cheating lowkey but her bf is also cheating, piv (no protection, wrap it b4 u tap it), absolute manipulation from both gator and reader
The old wives tale was that having sex before a soccer match, or football - for your British boyfriend, reduces stamina and muscle power. And Riley wouldnāt risk it. In fact, in the entirety of the month playing in the World Cup he hasnāt risked it. Leaving youā¦ unfortunately not high, and extremely, bitterly, hopelessly dry.
You needed something to give.
The long flights and 2am room service where you were eating for the first time that day was getting old - quick. Your boyfriend and his team were stuck in their rooms, being regularly checked in on by the coaching staff. Mandatory curfews and the inability to sneak up to the next floor that Riley was staying on was more than a buzzkillā¦ so what do you do when youāre out in Miami on a Friday night? Of course youāre going to go out.Ā
Some of the groupies who followed the team around, shooting their shots, were willing to go out with you - a girls night was precisely what you needed.
The dress was shortā¦ the shortest one you owned. Riley made some fuck ass comment about it when you tried it on for him after getting it from the shops in London one day. Said your ass was out too much, at least two sizes to small for your tits - and then he looked at your belly. You threw the dress to the furthest corner of your closest and never touched it again, until you found out that one of the stops would be Miami.Ā
Youād been through this beforeā¦ England advanced and he played in the World Cup a few years ago - you knew the drill. The boys were on lock down. The city would be raging, especially Miami. And tomorrow, they would be playing the USAā¦ your home country before you moved in with Riley after college.Ā
In those few years, things had just changed. Riley wasnāt that sweet boyfriend anymore. He was the poster child for England. His instagram changed from 500 followers and pictures of you, to all of those being deleted and him having closing in on 8 million. That is basically how it felt in an emotional state too. He would love you in the quiet, and then pretend you were just another person on the sidewalk the second heād see fans taking photos.
It got to you.
Then the comments started.
It began with girls commenting under his photos, and him replying with heart emojisā¦ cool - thats fine. You have to understand he is a public figure and that comes with the territory. But then came the dms.Ā
And then the texts.
And then the hour long FaceTime calls with contacts saved under guys names, yet - in the deleted texts you found, your boyfriend doesnāt call his friends baby or princess.
But then the matches startedā¦ and what are you supposed to do? Break up with him right before the World Cup and let his PR team ruin your life? No. Youād push throughā¦ but then once the games began and the sex stopped, the chemistry just - died.
So, you adjust your tits in the tight ass dress and head out on the town.
As oneā¦ practicallyā¦ single girl does in Miami.
The club was hotā¦ in every single way.
There was at least 2,000 people in the 3 story club, bodies just everywhere. The heat from the Miami summer night mixed with the body heat was close to unbearable - you basically sprinted to the bar for a glass of water.
But ohā¦ you really did mean hot in every way, because - wow. You knew not everyone here is from Miami, but likeā¦ if someone wouldāve told you this was a model convention - youād believe them.
You push your way through the crowd and finally reach the bar. It is so crowded and youāre so unfortunately short that youāre basically being swallowed whole by the crowd. The bartender hasnāt even looked your way, and much taller people are able to get their order taken much fasterā¦ you donāt even mean to, but in your frustrated state - you stomp your foot down, heel driving right down onto -
āHoly fuckinā shit-ā, a growling curse comes from behind you.
You whip around, already prepared to be bitched at by this guy, but then you see himā¦ you really see him. Twisting his foot around in pain, you seen him. Your eyes widen - you know himā¦ thats-
āYo, Tillman! Grab me two more shots while youāre up there!ā
Gator Tillman. Captain of the USA Soccer team. Direct rival to Riley Thomas, your boyfriend.
āI- I am so sorry, oh god-ā
He finally looked down at you, and pausedā¦ collected, assessed, definitely worked his eyes over your entire body, and then smiled.
āDo I know you?ā
Does he know you? Does he - yes, of course he knows you. Who doesnāt study the fuck out of their rival to find weak points. Yes, Gator Tillman knew exactly who you were and both of you knew it.
āNoā, lie.
The smile slid into a smirk, he definitely knew.
āYou order?ā
The frustration grew within you, āNo, he hasnāt even looked at me! Pissing me off!ā You threw your hands in the air with anger, making him step into a hero mode. He could fix your issue. Actually, he could fix a lot of your issues.
āWhat do you want?ā
āI want a vodka cran.ā
He leaned forward, letting his hand curl around your waist. The heat from his palm and the size of his hand fucked you up completelyā¦ in fact, you think you might have audibly moaned a little. Untouched by your own boyfriend for far too long, and nowā¦ his rival of all people, has you worked up.
āHey man, I need 5 shots of vodka and 1 vodka cranā¦ give me a vodka redbull, too.ā
Instantly. Like magic. His order? Taken. Within seconds.
Fuck him. Fuck him and his tallness and big hot sweaty hands that were shifting over your hip, and fuck his pelvis that he secured to your ass - feeling exactly what he wanted you to feel.
The assistant bartender passed over the drinks, and he released your hip to hand you your drink.Ā
āCmon, weāve got a room-ā
Fuck. You shouldnāt be doing this.
You quickly look around to see if you can spot any of the groupies, not wanting them to expose your shadiness to Riley - butā¦ then it hits youā¦ Amanda was one of the girls you found in his dms, so fuck her and fuck him. You were going to fuck Gator Tillman, and who knows, maybe it would make USA lose if their captains hormones were fucked with. Maybe youād be likeā¦ the savior for England for doing thisā¦ yep - thats what youāre going with.
Another guy that you recognized from the roster came and grabbed the shots, he looked at you with a passing glance and looked awayā¦ right before his neck nearly snapped backwards looking back at you again. Oh yeah, he definitely knew you. And all Gator could do was smirk.
This would be either the funnest night of your life or the beginning of the end of it.
There was a small staircase that led to a more private room, but the stairs were unreasonably steep. Gator immediately had his teammate walk in front of you, and him directly behind you - for safety of course, definitely not to get a face full of ass in your short ass dress with every step. Definitely not for that reason.
The room was dark. Maybe 100 people? The bass was even louder up here, which you didnāt think was possible. This is the night that the USA soccer team has before a match? Meanwhile England confiscates phones at 10pm and they have mandatory room checks at least once an hour? Big difference.
āYou from Miami?ā, He slurred out, clearly already feeling his drinks a bit.
āNo - Ohio, actuallyā¦ā
āNo shitā¦ northern girl, huh? Iām from North Dakota.ā
āOh, thats much more north-ā, you let out a laugh, one you almost didnāt even recognize. When was the last time youād laughed? Huh.
āMaybe, but both cold as fuck.ā
āThat I can agree withā¦ But definitely not as cold as-ā, nope nope nope nope do not talk about England right now. Donāt do that. āAs cold as Canadaā¦ went there last February and it was like covered in ice.ā
He caught your slip up. But as if that was the only giveaway, meanwhile you just said āagreeā with a subtle accent switch. You were bound to have some words change a bit, youāve lived there for years.Ā
āAnd sorry about your foot - I stomp when I'm mad, andā¦ not that that matters - uh, sorry, yeah I just hope that its not sore for tomorrow-ā, shit. You suck in a quick breath, and look up at him.
His head turned and tilted slow, a grin deepening, fuck.
āSo, you knowā¦ā
āMaybeā¦ and-ā
āAnd I knowā¦ā, he replied coyly.Ā
And that was that. One drink turned to two. Two turned to being able to glance at the bartender, who definitely gave you the time of day now, and suddenly you had a new drink in your hand. All on the tab of one Gator Tillman, captain of the USA soccer team. Rival of your boyfriend. Probably your future one night stand. Fuck, youāre fucked.
You donāt remember getting on the small stage in the corner with the pole, and you definitely donāt remember swinging around it with him laughing at your drunkenness all while grabbing himself through his jeans. But, oh boyā¦ do you remember pulling him by the collar of his shirt into the Uber.
Their hotel? Right next to yours. Only difference is, this one is 5-stars and they get to stay for free.
The ding of the elevator to the private suites drowned out in the moans erupting between the two of you, completely lost in a searing hot kiss and having your entire ass fitting in the palms of his hands. He pulled you tight against him, and hushed you - giving you a lookā¦ seems like they also had a curfew, but a few of them were ballsy enough to break it. Gator guided you back to the far end of the hall, a corner room with breathtaking view. As soon as the door clicked shut, his hands grabbed at your hips, pulling you tight against him.
āTillman - Donāt you need to get ready for the game tomorrow? What about-ā, you began, and stopped. If he was going to fuck you, let that be his mistake. Maybe then, Riley would ease the fuck up if they won. Maybe then youād have your good boyfriend back and not the cheating stuck up bitch heās become. But then again, here you are, with Gator Tillmans hand running up the inside of your thigh and pulling your dress up with it.
āWhat aboutā¦ what? Hm?ā
āJustā¦ curfew? Wonāt you be tired?ā
āWorth it.ā He whispered against your neck before spinning you around, capturing your lips against his again.
Why did this feelā¦ right? Especially when it was so wrong.
His hands felt calloused and strong, his mouth tender and generous. You needed him more than you could admit. But he knew, no woman was this eager unless sheās been mistreated. And he didnāt know much, but the whines slipping out of your mouth told him all he needed to know - Riley Thomas was not pleasing you, not like he could.
Gator led you back to the bed, pushing you down onto the mattress with a playful shove - grin on his lips, and your mouth open in awe. He ripped his shirt off his body and yanked open his belt, eyes locked on yours.
āYouāre gonna have to be quiet, duchess- you think you can do that for me?ā
The nickname startled you. Only the England fan base called you that, how did he-
āHowād-ā
āMy MLS team has a Manchester City transferā¦ like I said, I know youā¦ā
His hand cups underneath your chin, giving you too passionate of a kiss for a one night stand. But again, it was so right.
He grabbed the bottom hem of your dress and tugged up, you raised your hips off the mattress to let it slide up your body. You laid there on the mattress with your red lingerie - the set youād picked out to match Englands flag. But your boyfriend has neglected to see itā¦ Gator saw it.
āFuck, you look like Heaven in red-ā
āItās for England-ā
āLooks like it could be for USA, too, baby - want you on my team-ā
āWell, so does heā¦ā
āYouāre in my bed.ā
āAnd tomorrow Iāll be in his stands.ā
A smirk grew on his face, giving a devilish look, āFuckinā traitor.ā
āAre you gonna keep talking, or?ā
āOh, Iām gonna fuck you - donāt worry, duchess. But you need to know, that tomorrow when I win, youāre coming back with meā¦ā
āYouāre not gonna win-ā
His hands slid across your skin, unhooking your bra as he crawled overtop of you.
āNo? And why is that?ā
āBecause Iāll make sure of it.ā
āIs that so? How are you gonna do th-ā
You cut him off by grabbing ahold of his length and giving him a long stroke in his briefs, sending his head onto your shoulder. Yeah, this was gonna be an easy win.
He ripped off his boxers, and yanked your red lace panties off - tossing them in his duffle bag. You opened your mouth to protest but he beat you to it, āYou can come get them tomorrow after my win - not like your little boyfriend is gonna be ready to fuck you in it after he loses his chance at the Cup.ā
You shoved against his chest, and he groaned, āOh yeah, you just now remembering iām the bad guy, baby? Youāre truly sleeping with the enemy on this one.ā
āShut up and fuck me.ā
āIt would be my honor, duchess.ā
His hand skimmed over your cunt and slowly dipped a finger inside of you, scoffing when he felt how wet you were.
āAnd youāre here acting like you arenāt fucking turned on right now, wettest little pussy iāve ever had. How pathetic. I love it.ā
āI said shut up!ā, you pushed him again. He tilted his head again, smiling deeper.
āKeep it upā¦ Iāll have you limping up to the stands tomorrow. Explain that one.ā
He lined himself up, not even beginning with eating you out or even trying to get a blowjob from you - just ready for you. And shit, you were embarrassed to admit that you were ready too.
With one solid push, he was in. Both of you let out deep moans into the quiet hotel room, he glanced to the door. His hand came up and covered your mouth, as he hushed you silently. And then he pulled out.
And right back in, bottoming out inside of you. He rammed his dick in and out of you as you laid there drooling all over his hand, which muffled the pleasure coursing through your body. You canāt remember the last time you had felt like this.
His pace quickened as he watched you, almost too softly - as if he could see how much you needed this.
āGod, you feel so good baby. Swear youāre perfect - what the fuck are you doing with him, a fucking doorknob.ā
You bit down on the fat of his middle finger, making him let out a hiss. But he liked it, and fuck it, you did too.
He lifted you leg and you secured it over his hip, high heels still on - you dug the heel into his back, making him groan and drop into your neck. The movement pushed him even deeper inside of you, and you honestly didnāt know how he even fit.
The corse hair at the end of his happy trail rammed up against your clit, making you see stars. You raked your nails down his back, painting stripes of red on his skin. The two of you, unbelievably patriotic together.
His mouth began leaving open mouthed kisses all over your neck, trying not to give you a hickey. He didn't exactly want to be punched in the face, though for you - it would be worth it.
You held back your moans, and he released his hand to check on you - which you thanked him for by whispering his name over and over and over. Good girl.
It wasn't long before the pit in your stomach grew, and your grasp on him tightened - he knew.
And when his breathing transitioned into panting - you knew.
"Fuck, duchess, you're killing me here - boutta bust."
"Im so fucking close, Gator-"
"Come for me, baby - wanna feel you. Wanna make you feel better than he can. Ain't that right? Huh? Better than him?"
"So much fucking better, baby!"
Shit. You shouldn't have said th-
The orgasm hit you, a force you weren't prepared for. Your hand and a simple vibrator was your only relief for a whole month, and now? Well now you were literally thrashing underneath of Gator Tillman, whining his name. When tears began prickling your eyes, you knew you fucked up. It was the best orgasm you've ever received - and it was from your boyfriend's rival.
Gators stomach clenched up, and he pulled himself out of you - spilling his spend onto your belly with a groan, your name whimpered off his lips. He dipped down and encased his lips with yours, a low and long moan vibrating into your body. It was passionate.
He pulled back, and it was like a light switch.
He climbed off of you and went to the bathroom, grabbing a warm damp rag and wiped you clean. Grabbed your hands and pulled you vertical, and then handed you your dress and bra... no panties.
Your eyebrows furrowed, almost with sadness - and then, you clicked into the same headspace. This is over. This shouldn't have happened. This can't happen - in fact, it didn't happen.
Quickly dressing back into your tight ass dress, he threw on a pair of loose sweats and a t-shirt.
"Ready?"
"For?"
"I'll walk you-"
"It - its just next door..."
"Fine, I don't have to if you don't want me t-"
"Walk me."
"I would love to."
The walk back down the hall was silent. Almost like you'd be struck dead if you made a noise or acknowledged the feelings you both just had to turn off. He reluctantly pressed the elevator button, the ding piercing the silence.
In the elevator, you stood on separate sides - you stared at him, he stared at his feet. His chest heaving.
You walked through the hallway with haste, knowing damn well that someone could be taking pictures or videos this exact second and your life would be over and everyone would praise him. Fuck the patriarchy.
The heat swarmed you immediately, the sound of the streets filled the void between the two of you - still silent.
Reaching the door to your hotel, he looked up. Squinting up to the penthouse, where he knew your boyfriend was probably sound asleep.
"I'll see you tomorrow, duchess."
"No, you won't. His side, remember?", You shot at him, coldly.
He looked back down at you, "I don't plan on losing."
"Fuck you, Tillman."
"You already did."
And with that, he put his index finger over his lips and shh'd you, turned around and walked away.
"You know you're screwed now right? Your testosterone levels are fucked and you're gonna play horribly!", You yelled out, wanting the last word.
He whipped around, looking at you, "And do you know that myth was debunked? It actually relaxes the nervous system - you prepared me for tomorrow, duchess. Don't worry, I'll thank you tomorrow after my win."
No. No. No.
That isn't true right?
"You're lying-"
"I guess we will have to find out... night, duchess.", he winked and disappeared around the corner of the building.
What if it really was just a myth, and it had the opposite affect...
What if...
What if you just helped him win the game?
_____
a/n ā½ļø damn. part 2?
tagging my Leather & Lace taglist (im sorry!) i need to put a general ask out there for a taglist. hope i dont make anyone hopeful/mad š šā½ļø love 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] [fourth of july] [semi-public sex] [handjob] [tent sex] [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. letās all just pretend i actually posted this on the 4th, okay? okay thanks!!!!
There are noises coming from Steveās tent. Ā
You lie completely still under your own tentās ceiling, breath caught in your chest.Ā
There it is again. Another soft grunt, but this one is deeper, almost desperate.
Youāve heard these sounds before. Your mouth goes dry as the reality of what heās doing settles in your gut, a sharp ache building low between your hips.Ā
Thank God youāre 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 donāt have a curfew, so the whole lot of you can pitch tents down by the lake and watch the fireworks show.Ā
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.Ā
Right after his eyes caught yours.Ā
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 otherās throats for weeks.
Tonight is is counselorās night out! Itās supposed to be a fun end-of-the-summer bash for all the adults who were paid a few grand to babysit. Itās the night everyone looks forward to the most.Ā
You should be having funābeing young. Whatever that means.Ā
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.Ā
Steve groans again. Hot embers flare to life in your core, stirred up by the sound of his thready voice. So low and breathless.Ā
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 elseās, and no one has really gone to bed yet. It shouldnāt 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 justā¦snap.Ā
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, donāt you?Ā
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 lakeās edge.Ā
Steve pitched his orange tent under a tree.Ā
Stupid.Ā
Doesnāt he know that the roots will mess the tent stakes up? Youāre surprised he could even get them in the ground. Honestly, it will probably fall down on him tonight.Ā
You hope it does.Ā
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.Ā
You yank on his tentās 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.
āGod, you never could stay quiet, could you?ā You say, bullying your way through the tent flap and zipping it back up behind you.Ā
Steve scrambles to throw his sleeping bag over himself, but it does practically nothing to hide his raging boner underneath.Ā
āWhat the fuck do you want?ā He snaps, glaring up at you.Ā
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. Itās been torturous pretending you didnāt know what it felt like against your bare breasts, against your back...
You clear your throat. āI just thought Iād let you know the whole camp can hear you jerking off.ā
āWhat? Iām notāJesus.ā His big hand drags down his face, even as he pulls the sleeping bag up higher. āGet out.ā
Whoops, there you go again, getting distracted by his hands.Ā
Maybe you should close your eyes, or turn aroundāsomethingābecause 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. āOh, cāmon, Steve. Why are you so embarrassed? Itās not like I havenāt seen it before.āĀ
Lots of times, actually.Ā
Through the years, youād been there for everythingāwatched 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.Ā
Because it wasnāt 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 couldnāt get off no matter how many times you scrubbed yourself raw in the shower.Ā
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 elseās skin, feel a slick, hot mouth against yoursāground yourself in something intrinsically human just to prove that after everything, you still are.
But all that came to a screeching halt last summer.Ā
āOkay,ā Steve sighs, shifting a little and squinting up at you. āLetās say that I was. You wanted to come over andā¦cockblock me? From myself? And turn that thing off unless you want everyone to see two silhouettes in here.ā
You click the flashlight off immediately, plunging you both into darkness.Ā
Maybe you should rescind your previous statement. Because now, without being able to see him, his proximity is somehow affecting you even more.Ā
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.Ā
You try to laugh, but it comes out cold. āYou think I give a fuck if youāre rubbing one out, Harrington? No. I came over here because youāre fucking whimpering and moaningāā
āāI was not whimpering.āĀ
āāand youāre incapable of keeping quietāyes, you were, and I was getting sick of hearing it. So, either do it quieter, or find someone to cover your fucking mouth.ā
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.Ā
āYou offering?ā
Your breath catches.
You should say no. You should tell him to go fuck himselfāliterallyā and leave right now. He can let the whole camp hear him for all you care.Ā
But instead, you hesitate.Ā
Now, Steve is smart. Smarter than he gives himself credit for, thatās for sure. And there are certain patterns heās picked up on with you over the years. Like, when you pause like that, the answer is almost always a yes.Ā
Which is why the second you go quiet, and the distant laughter of the other counselors fills the space between you, heās already batting the sleeping bag off his lap.Ā
āI knew it,ā 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. āYouāre so busy acting like you hate me, wanting to play this game where we bitch at each other all summer, and now youāre making up excuses to come into my tentāā
āOh, trust me,ā you scoff, tearing your eyes away to meet his again. āItās not an excuse.ā
āNo?ā he says softly, leaning back on one arm and gesturing at his body with the other. āThen, prove it.ā
āFine, but Iām only staying to keep you quiet,ā you warn him, pinning him with a harsh look.Ā
āSure. Whatever,ā Steve rasps, watching as you drop to your knees beside him.Ā
Your fingers curl into his sleeping bag beside his shoulder, but youāre careful not to touch him.Ā
He wishes you would.Ā
You gesture impatiently at him, your hand a shadowy blur in the dark. āGo ahead and get it over with. Iām not sitting here all night. God.ā
Steve rushes to obey, and when wraps his hand around his cock again, the rush is so intense itās almost painful. The way youāre sitting there just watching him is making his head feel fuzzy, and his dick swell.
And look at youāpretending 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.Ā
Steve heaves a stuttering breath, and his head drops back onto the ground as the pleasure pools in his gut. He thinks heās doing a good job being quiet. But he canāt smother the moan that escapes him the second your warm hand brushes his shoulder.
āSteve,ā you hiss, warning lacing your voice.Ā
āShut me up, then. Goddamn.ā He groans, his cock twitching in his palm. āWhat are you even here for? I could do this myselfāā 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. āāoh, fuck yeah.ā
Your touch is heaven. His eyelids threaten to shut as your fingers brush through his chest hair, over his ribsā so sure, and steady, soothing and warm. Like his flesh and bone is a map you know by heart.Ā
Heās 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.Ā
Honestly, he shouldāve known this is how the summer would end with you.Ā
Heās known it, and yet, heās run from it.Ā
Because the last time he had youā¦God, heās been such an idiot.Ā
Last summer, when you came home from college for break, heād been sitting on your doorstep. A silent understanding passed between you two, and then youād grabbed his hand and taken him up to your room.
Afterwards, you were laying under him, sweaty and warm, eyes glowing withā¦with something that made his heart tug painfully. And suddenly, it all got to be too much.Ā
Heād been craving you all semester. As if you were a long drag from a cigarette. And that gnawing ache didnāt surface with anyone else. Only you.Ā
His chest swelled up tight, and the bridge of his nose started to burn, and he realizedā¦ he was scared.Ā
Terrified, actually.Ā
Because what if the both of you reaching out for each other was nothing but a trained response, like Pavlovās dogs or some shit? What if you had built this trauma bondā¦thing? He wasnāt 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.Ā
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.Ā
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.Ā
But when you showed up at Camp Woodwick, looking to earn some cash over the summer, same as him, all the walls heād built up between him and his past came crashing down.Ā
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.Ā
His head swims with the knowledge that after a whole year without you, youāre here. Youāre the same. Familiar. The smell of your hair, down to the soft breaths escaping to ur lips.Ā
Heās still hard as a rock, but his hand isnāt cutting it. Not when what he really wants is right here in front of him.
Steve curses under his breath. āYou wanna help me out, sweetheart? Give me that mouth?ā
āW-what?ā You snort. āYou can hardly be quiet with your own hand, Harrington. You think youāre going to survive that?ā
āPlease? Just lick it. Just the tip.ā
āStop begging. Also, be quāā
āRight. Right, Iāll be quiet,ā Steve grumbles. āJustāif youāre gonna fucking march in here and tell me to do it faster, then the least you could do is help me out.ā 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.Ā
āCāmon,ā he urges, fighting back a smirk. āYou know how I like it, baby.ā
Shit.Ā
Steve knows that pet name has always been your weakness. Youāre not sure exactly why. Maybe itās because it reminded you that on the outside, you were just friends. But in bedā¦you were his.
You shouldnāt fall for a cheap trick like that. Look at him, biting the corner of his mouth like heās trying not to smirk. Cocky bastard.Ā
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.Ā
āFine. But only because itās faster.ā You say.
Your hand curls around him, reveling in the hot, velvety feel of him in your palm.Ā A sound slips from his throat, sudden and unbidden.Ā
You jerk your head up, and he canāt 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.Ā
Steveās hand lands on yours, and the warmth seeping through his fingers doesnāt just make your pussy clench, it also makes your nose burn.Ā
You turn your attention back to stroking him, ignoring the tightness in your lungs.Ā Ignoring the way youāre practically holding hands across his chest.
āGod, youāve been kind of a bitch to me all summer,ā Steve grunts, thrusting up into your touch. āYou know that?ā
You roll your eyes, even though he canāt see you. āSteve, you canāt call me a bitch at the same time youāre fucking my hand. Either weāre fighting or weāre fucking. Pick one. Jesus.ā
āI donāt know.ā His head falls back against the ground with a heavy thud. āWeāre pretty good at both, apparently. God, your hand feel so gāā
āShut the fuck up,ā you hiss.
āSorry! Sorry.ā
Another firework shrieks into the sky, exploding in a loud pop, and showering you both in a flash of red. It lights up Steveās body, illuminating the scars along his side.Ā Long jagged things, carved deep under his ribs.
You canāt help but remember the panic that seized you when the Demobats descended on him. Youāll never forget the sickening horror that coursed through your body when you looked over to see him pale and shaking, dripping in blood.Ā
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.
āDonātāā he rasps. Suddenly, his hand flies down and tugs your chin away.Ā
āWhat?ā 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.Ā
āWhat?ā you repeat. āI was there, too, remember?ā
āYeah, I remember.ā He lets out a short laugh, but the warmth is gone from his voice. āI justāreally donāt want to be reminded of that right now.ā
You pull back, hands falling away from him instantly.Ā
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.Ā
Sighing heavily, he raises his palms to his face and digs them into his eyes.Ā
āSorry, Iāmāthat was fucked up. Iām sorry.ā
You sit back on your heels, suddenly unsure, and your eyes drop to the ground.Ā
He combs through his hair again roughly. āIām sorry, I didnāt mean it. I was justā¦thereās a kid here that reminds me of a little Eddie, and the scarsāā
You smile softly. āReed, right? Iāve been thinking the same thing all summer.ā
āEvery time I see those scars, I think about the bats, and then I think about losing Eddie, and then with you hereāā He gestures towards you and he trails off.Ā
You donāt need him to finish the thought, though. You can see it in the way his chest heaves, and the slight crack in his voice.Ā
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.Ā
āItās okay, Steve. This is how it always was for us. Justātwo people trying to get through it, you know? To feel something again.āĀ
āOh yeah? Is that all were?ā His voice is deeper now. Huskier. It makes a lump build in your throat. āWas that all it was for you?ā
You watch the light show fall across the tent ceiling together, muted little orbs glowing through the fabric.Ā
āNo,ā you say softly. āBut everything hits me at once sometimes, too, you know. And when that happens...fuck, I just need you. And that feelingā¦ā The words fizzle out and fall like the embers in the sky, and your hand reaches up to clutch at your chestālike it would be easier just to rip out your heart and show him.
Steve hesitates, swallowing hard. āItās notā¦bad, right? That feeling?āĀ
āNo, Steve. Itās not bad.āĀ
A quiet moment passes, then he blows out a breath. āAt college, they have these therapists. Robin dragged me to a session once, so I went.ā You turn your head to look at him, but he keeps his eyes above. āI was scared, like, what if they didnāt believe me, you know? And, well, Iām not sure if Dr. Treya really believes me, but that doesnāt seem to matter much. She treats it all like itās true, anyway.ā
Thereās a loud squeal of a bottle rocket, then laughter somewhere in the distance.Ā
āIām sorry we fought the last few weeks,ā you whisper. āI was angry. But mostly just hurt. By last summer.ā
Steve sits up a little at that, his strong arm bracing his torso as he looks down at you. āAnd you had every right to be,ā he says. āI was a coward for leaving like I did. I got scared, I think. But, Iām getting better. At least, Robin says I am.ā
You chuckle. āIām sure sheās right.ā
āBut I am sorry, too. For that, and forā¦just for everything.ā
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.Ā
āIām proud of you for going to see a counselor,ā you say into the dark after a long moment. āDoes it help?ā
āYeah.ā He swallows. āBut I wish there was something I could do, too, you know? Other than just talk about it.āĀ
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. Heās been pushing you away because you had that for him, and he didnāt know how to accept it. Until recently.Ā
You see that now.Ā
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.Ā
āSteve, youāve already done so much. For everyone.ā
His hand practically swallows yours. Long fingers, with blunt tips. They just remind you of all the ways heās 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.Ā
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 youāre asking. When his expression softens, just enough, you donāt hesitate. Hooking your leg around his waist, you roll on top of him and sit up.Ā
āLet me take care of you,ā 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.Ā
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.Ā
His chest heaves with a shaky breath. āWait, no. No, baby.āĀ
You suck a soft love bite on his hip before raising your eyes to his. āYou donāt want it anymore?ā
āNoāshit, of course I want it, butāā He snorts, but his hand finds yours and he tries to pull you up. āIf weāre going to do this, I want to do it for real. Not to distract each other. Not like we used to. Canā¦can you do that?ā
You nod once. Then again. āYes. Yes, of course, Steve. I wasnātāI was justāā your heart slams into your throat. āI still love you.ā
A slow, sweet smile spreads across Steveās 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.Ā
āGood,ā he says. āNow we can get down to the real question of what the fuck do you think youāre doing barging into my tent when Iām masturbating, you little brat?ā
Heat licks up your spine, and you bite back a grin. āI told you! You were being loud.ā
āYeah, sure, now tell me the real reason.ā
āThat is the real reason!ā
āDonāt lie to me.āĀ
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 youāre on your back. Your heart slams against your ribs as he pulls you down under him, his chest rising and falling against yours.Ā
āJust admit it,ā he says, a cocky grin twisting his lips right over yours. āYou wanted me to lick that pretty pussy for you, didnāt you?ā
Your panties dampen instantly, pulsing in anticipation of feeling his mouth on you after so long.Ā
You might have been at each otherās throats for weeks, but that doesnāt mean he didnāt 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 heād just smile and lift his eyebrows as if to say, āis that all you got?ā Maybe crook two fingers at you with a cocky tilt of his head, urging you to āgive me more.āĀ
Well, you could definitely give him more.Ā
āI donāt know, Harrington,ā you sigh, tilt your head against the tent floor in mock confusion. āI hardly remember what getting head from you is like.ā
His grin turns wicked. Then suddenly, heās movingāgreedy hands tugging at your shorts.Ā
āOh, Iām sorry,ā he says, voice dripping in that mocking tone that always makes you wet. āI thought maybe youād want me to do that thing my tongue that alwaysāā A whimper escapes your throat and he breaks off mid-sentence with an openmouthed laugh. āYeah, thatās what I thought.ā
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 heās sporting that erection again. You feel a fleeting disappointment at the fact you havenāt gotten to suck him off yet, but itās probably better this way, to be honest.Ā
Itās literally impossible to make Steve Harrington be quiet while getting a blowjobā
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 youāre too blissed out by the stretch that you canāt even get onto him for it.Ā
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.Ā
āMissed those sounds you make,ā he says, voice muffled against your pussy.Ā
Shit.Ā
You hadnāt 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.Ā
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 blissā
āShut up,ā 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. āSeriously, shut up if you donāt want them to hear you.āĀ
āWhaāSteve!ā You whine, canting your hips up into his mouth again as he lowers himself back down to you. āH-help.ā
He shrugs. āIām not the one who gives a shit if they hear.ā
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.Ā
You whine in protest, and go to pull on his hand again, but thatās a mistake.Ā
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.Ā
āCover your own mouth, sweetheart, fuck,ā he chuckles, giving your clit a soothing series of licks. āIām busy.ā
āFuck you,ā you whisper, but it quickly turns into a needy whine when he sucks the swollen nub into his mouth.Ā
Steve continues to stretch you out on his fingers, murmuring dirty things into your pussy as he does. How sweet you taste. How tightly youāre squeezing his fingers. But you barely hear any of it.Ā
Youāre so wetāboth from his mouth and your arousalāthat your inner thighs slick together when you try to squeeze them. He yanks your legs apart again, and youāre powerless to stop him because the pads of his fingers are dragging out tendrils of pleasure from your spine you havenāt felt in a year.Ā
Thankfully, the fireworks seem to be reaching a peak outsideā 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 donāt have the brain power to think about anything except how desperately you need him inside you.Ā
You whimper again accidentally. āSteveāāĀ
āOkay, baby,ā 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.Ā
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.
āStill fuckinā made for me,ā he groans. āGoddamnit.ā
Youāre panting, arms wrapped around his shoulders, biting the skin of your forearm to keep from moaning as his hips roll slow and deliberate.Ā
āGood girl,ā he praises, and you shudder, feeling the ache grow sharper. āStaying so quiet, look at you. You canāt ask me to be silent when you come around me, okay? Fuckāthatās like being tortured all over again.ā
You shoot him a withering look even as you writhe underneath him. āThatās not funny.ā
He laughs, and his silhouette shifts over you, his cock driving deeper and hitting that spot inside you that makes you see sparks that arenāt there. āSorry, sweetheart. I justāoh yeah, grind that clit into me. Thatās it.ā
Ā 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.Ā
His teeth sink into the skin of your shoulder in order to stay somewhat quiet, and ohāfuck. 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.Ā
āFuckāSteve,ā you gush. āPlease.ā
āWhat do you need?ā He rasps against your throat, sucking and biting. āIām all yours.ā
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.Ā
Only him.
āYou need me to kiss you?ā he says, breath hot in your ear. āNeed me to shut you up?ā
You nod frantically.Ā
āGo on, ask me for it.ā
You whimper, too far gone to play the game anymore. āKiss me, Stevie. Please, pleaseāāĀ
āFuck,ā Steve groans at the nickname he hasnāt heard in so long, and instantly lowers his mouth to yours.Ā
The first brush of his lips against yours makes you want to cry.Ā
āMissed you, baby,ā he says, then kisses you deeper, his tongue dipping into your mouth and swirling with yours. āSo much. Missed kissing you. Missed talking with you.ā He hesitates, pulling back slightly before planting one soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. āMissed loving you. But I guess I never really stopped, did I?ā
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.Ā
Feeling you kiss him like that snaps something deep inside him.Ā
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.Ā
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.Ā
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 finallyāyouāre falling.Ā
Your teeth bite into your fingers hard to muffle your moans as your pussy clenches down like a vice on Steveās cock rhythmically, your orgasm rushing through you.Ā
He lets out a choked sound above you, and with the way his chest falls in a sequence of familiar pants, you know heās close. Through the pleasured haze, your other hand flies to cover his mouth just in time for his orgasm to hit.Ā
āMmhmm, mhhhmm.ā 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.Ā
He fumbles around for his T-shirt in the darkness and then cleans you up with care, which makes your heart twist. Once heās 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 itās amazing how quickly your lashes start to fall, wrapped up in this familiar comfort.Ā
āSoā¦truce?ā 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.Ā
Maybe itās 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 Harringtonās heartbeat will always be in your future.
āTruce.ā
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 donāt you just love it when characters highjack your story? god, the fics always turn out so much better that way.
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