What Am I Even Doing?

Nyx: 25+ Sleepy baby™️ 🐊✨ Navigation Masterlist

[starksbabie]

Hello! I'm Nyx, here are all the relevant links for my blog. I write for Marvel, Stranger Things, & Fargo. MDNI 18+ Only. I’m open to requests or general asks 🥰 thank you for visiting my blog!

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[queersatanic]

Happy birthday, Duane.

[stopmyhearts]

I'm not phone addicted. I'm friend addicted. It's not my fault that for some cruel and senseless reason my friends live in my phone

[veryluckyclovers]

us if we were slime creatures

[starksbabie]

@yourfavoritewitchbitch

[adequately]

fairyclub

[sobac]

[dankmemeuniversity]

[aurpiment]

Shout out to the ten primate species, four bat species, elephant shrews, and the Cairo spiny mouse. Nobody else gets it

[oarfjsh]

[tessa-the-duck]

here you are sweetie

[bbcsherlock]

if you werent here in 2013-2015 idk what to tell you. it was a different world. sometimes my sherlock gifsets would get 100k+ notes. it was the gilded age of tumblr.

[horsecockharrington]

Does he have any tattoos?

Joe and Javi have matching ass tats... I saw them when we went to Paris. 😏

[starksbabie]

[blignick]

[muntzerism-diggerism]

[stevenose]

wait. guys remind me to write something about princess!reader seeing knight!steve during or after combat. imagine how gnarly and crazy he would look. absolute determination on his bloody face while his eyes glare at the enemy. please remind me guys

[stevenose]

i’ve been thinking about this all day.

suggestive, no smut; gore/death mentions; angsty!!!; a half baked idea bc i want to write but tired :/

reader getting themselves in danger when steve specifically told them to stay in the castle and to not go anywhere near the perimeter of the grounds. there are rising tensions with a neighboring kingdom and steve is highly aware that capturing the princess — you — would be too good of an opportunity for the opposition to pass up.

and you’re so annoyed because he can’t tell you what to do! he isn’t your father! and you’re really pissed off at him, even after he explains that he’s speaking for your father. because if your father knew about your stupidity, you’d literally be locked up in your tower.

but the one night steve isn’t outside of your door, the one night he’s patrolling the grounds, you somehow sneak past him and escape. you aren’t taking his warnings seriously at all. you’re sick of being stuck in the castle, and you’re sick of being treated like a child, especially by steve. so you sneak out partly just to feel something and partly just to piss him off.

but of course you get caught. and of course steve followed you, because he has a sixth sense when it comes to you. he just knew you snuck past him, and he just knew you were in trouble.

you’re thrown against a tree by him, air knocked out of your lungs. and you watch with wide-eyed terror while he obliterates them - using hand-to-hand combat before being forced to slash each man that had cornered you.

you’ve never seen death before. and you’ve never seen steve look like this. only now do you really understand who he is at his core - a knight, sworn to protect his kingdom by any means necessary.

panting, he walks towards you, blood dripping off of him, his knuckles bruised and bloody, his sword dirty. it drops beside him and he grabs your arms, hard enough to hurt, shaking you.

his voice cracks as he asks, “what on earth were you thinking?”

it scares you. genuinely. and you’re rubbing your fucking thighs together, breath hitching, eyes still wide, your body shaking.

yet you want to patch him up and hold him and apologize. but this is your fault, and there’s nothing you could do to make it better.

there’s galloping nearby. another knight grabs you swiftly and pulls you up onto the saddle. there’s a commotion as more knights appear, but steve’s eyes don’t leave yours. his expression is pained, angry, lovestruck, terrified, frantic.

“take them back to the castle,” he commands. “tell their father.”

you feel like you’ve been struck by lightning.

“steve, please —“

“go,” he says, turning away from you, spitting blood onto the ground and wiping his brow.

holding your tears back hurts. makes your jaw ache. you feel incredibly sick, but you’re so, so happy that the knight with you doesn’t say a word.

the only thing he says as you dismount, your parents running to you, is, “never scare him like that again.”

you know he means steve.

you want to scream.

but you’re ushered inside, already being berated, the tears that welled in your eyes spilling over. and still, you know that the scolding you’re getting now isn’t going to hurt you as much as steve’s disappointment in you.

and as he predicted, you’re locked in your room with a different guard at your door. you wonder if he’ll ever come to see you again. and you wonder, too, why you ache between the legs, flashes of steve’s angry and determined expression flashing through your mind. the look that he gave you after the last man fell, like he could kill you, too. how his body pressed against yours while he glared at you, his hands brushing your soft skin.

his rough voice still rings in your ears — what were you thinking? — and you wish you knew.

[theweirdwideweb]

[uhohimbasic]

knight!steve x princess!reader, 2.5k words, no use of y/n ★ you’re appointed a new guard

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

Steve had been a knight for many years now, but had yet to be given a purpose he deemed worthy enough. That is, until he met you, properly. He was familiar with the grounds of the castle, had caught glimpses of you before. And then the King himself appointed him as one of your guards. He was to keep eyes on you, protect you, serve you.

“I assume you’re my latest knight?”

It was the first batch of words he heard from your lips.

He bows before you, his armor shining under the castle lights. “Yes, your highness. I am Sir Steven Harrington, sent here to protect and serve you.”

He stands up straight, his eyes meeting yours through the slits of his helmet. “I hear you’ve been quite the handful for the other knights.”

You scoff. “A handful? I would not say so.”

A small smirk plays on his lips at your reaction. “Oh really? I must be mistaken then. Perhaps they were just not skilled enough to handle a princess as… spirited as yourself. But I assure you, Your Highness, I am more than capable of keeping up.”

You give him a once-over. He does not seem different from the others. He is covered in the same silver plates, and it all represents the same thing to you. A babysitter.

You raise a brow. “Good.”

His smirk grows into a genuine smile at your simple response. He finds your confidence refreshing. He’s never had the privilege of meeting any other princesses, but you seemed different in some way. He changes the subject.

“I’m to escort you to the royal ball tonight,” He extends his arm formally. “My lady? Or would you prefer I call you Princess?”

You consider it. “‘My lady’ works fine.”

He nods, his smile never leaving his face as he escorts you out of the room and towards the ballroom. “My lady it is then,” As they walk, he can’t help but notice how gracefully you move and how beautiful you look in your royal attire.

“What shall I call you?” You ask, surprising him.

He pauses for a moment, considering his options before answering. “How about… Just Steven? After all, we’ll be spending a lot of time together. It might get tiring always saying ‘Sir Steven’ don’t you think?” He looks at you with a warm, inviting expression. Not that you can see under the helmet.

The corner of your mouth quirks up, and he feels a spark of pride for making it do so.

“I suppose so,” you answer shortly.

He continues walking with you, his arm still formerly extended, waiting for you to loop your arm through. You do.

“You know… for someone who’s had so many knights fall by the wayside, you seem rather calm about this arrangement,” He teases gently.

You shake your head softly, “Those other knights are fools.”

He laughs softly at your blunt statement. “Fools indeed,” He agrees, eyes sparkling with amusement. “But I am not a fool, am I?”

“We shall see.”

He chuckles at your response, enjoying your company already. “Oh I have no doubt we’ll get along just fine, My Lady.”

As they enter the ballroom filled with nobles and music, he leans closer. “I’m not going anywhere any time soon.”

You spare him one final glance before leaving to the dance floor. As you mingle with the nobles, Steve finds himself watching you from a distance. He notices how every noble seems to be captivated by your presence, your beauty and your grace. And he is not unlike them. He realizes that you are unlike any other he’s met, and he’s determined to prove himself worthy of your trust.

However, his thoughts of you, admittedly, leave him distracted. And suddenly he can no longer find you among the crowd. Steve feels concern swell in his chest. He asks around discreetly but no one seems to have seen the princess leave the ballroom. He searches multiple rooms, before his instinct tells him to search the gardens.

As he enters the garden, the soft glow of lanterns casts light across the trail ahead. He scans the area quickly, his hand on the hilt of his sword out of habit rather than expectation of danger. Then he sees you, standing alone near a bed of roses.

He pauses for a moment, taking in the scene. The princess standing alone in the garden, your royal gown contrasting the simplicity of the surroundings. He approaches slowly, trying not to startle you, his footsteps crunching softly in the grass.

“My Lady,” He says softly as he comes closer.

You don’t look up from the roses, but your gentle voice pierces through the night. “Come to drag me away?”

He shakes his head in his helmet slightly. “No, My Lady, I came to ensure you were safe.” He explains softly, stopping a respectful distance away. “The ballroom is quite… noisy. I can understand the desire for a moment’s peace.” His gaze shifts to the flowers beside you.

Your head whips in his direction and surprise blooms on your face. He notices your surprised expression and raises an eyebrow slightly, his smile softening. “Did you expect me to scold you for leaving the ballroom?” he asks gently, tilting his head. “Or perhaps drag you by force?”

You sigh, looking down at the roses once more. “You would not be the first.”

His expression turns serious at your words. “I am not like the other knights,” he says firmly but softly. “I won’t treat you as they did.” He steps closer but has to stop himself from reaching out to touch you. Instead, he extends his hand towards the flowers beside you.

“I suppose I should thank you then, Steven.”

He bows his head slightly at your words of gratitude, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. “No thanks are necessary, My Lady,” he replies softly. “I am merely doing my duty as a knight… and as someone who understands the need for quiet.”

You can’t help the smile that creeps onto your face. Admittedly, this knight seems different, despite your initial judgement.

“I’m surprised you were able to find me so quickly out here. You’ve proven yourself correct, you can keep up with me.”

Your words ignite a sense of pride and accomplishment in him. “I have trained for many years to be a knight, My Lady,” he says with a hint of humor in his voice. “Finding you in the garden was not so difficult.”

Your soft smile turns mischievous. “You’d be surprised.”

He chuckles, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. “Perhaps I would,” he admits. The flowers almost seem to arch towards your fingers, as if seeking your attention. Steve watches you graze them with interest, finding it charming how the princess interacts with nature so calmly.

Your voice cuts through the silence. “Steven?”

He looks up from the flowers, giving you his full attention. “Yes, My Lady?” he asks softly, his voice gentle and attentive. The way you say his name sends a pleasant shiver down his spine without him even realizing it. The lantern lights cast a warm glow on your face.

You tilt your head, your expression turning playful. “Tell me, do you like carrying that hunk of metal on your head?”

He can’t help but laugh at your question, a genuine and warm sound. He reaches up to touch the heavy helmet briefly before making sure it’s secure in its place. “Honestly, My Lady? It is a burden,” he admits, his hand resting on the metal.

Your expression flickers briefly, as if hesitating.

“You may take it off. If you should like to. I won’t tell.” You say softly, looking at him with nothing but sincerity.

He glances around the garden quickly, ensuring they’re alone. Then, with a small smile, he carefully removes the helmet and sets it down beside his legs. He runs a hand through his hair, instantly looking more comfortable. “Thank you My Lady,” he says gratefully, his voice softer without the crown’s weight.

You stare at his face, this being your first time seeing it. His skin is tanned and peppered with freckles and moles. His hair is shaggy and wind-swept. But what draws you in the most are his eyes. They’re the most gorgeous shade of brown, almost golden, like a pot of honey, streaked with a luxurious green. He’s beautiful. Far too beautiful to be covering with a helmet.

He notices you staring and holds still, feeling exposed but not uncomfortable. Your open admiration makes his heart race slightly. You are a princess, and he is but a knight, so he knows he should not be thinking of you in this way. But he can’t help it. “Princess?”

You blink repeatedly, as if coming out of a daze. “My apologies. I wasn’t expecting you to… look like this.” You say honestly.

He chuckles softly, once more running a hand through his hair, almost self consciously. “Like what?” he asks curiously, his cheeks flushing softly under your intense gaze.

“Like… a prince.” As soon as you say the words, you flush. It was much too high a compliment to be giving your knight. And much too honest.

His eyes widen slightly at your words, and he shakes his head in disbelief. “I am no prince,” he says quietly, stepping closer to you without thinking. The compliment certainly caught him off guard. “I am merely a knight.”

“Of course. I spoke without thinking.” You say quickly.

He smiles at your apology, understanding that it was likely a slip of the tongue. “No need to apologize, My Lady,” he reassures you softly. He stands closer than he knows he should, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he inhales. It’s deeply indulgent, inappropriate. But beneath the smell of the roses, he swears he can detect the vanilla on you. It’s intoxicating.

“I should like to go back to the ballroom,” you say suddenly. Your cheeks are darker than they were a minute ago.

He doesn’t question it. You are the princess, after all, he serves you. Your words are now his religion. He reaches down for his helmet. “Of course, My Lady,” he says, placing the heavy metal back on his head.

Your eyes track his skin as he covers it.

“I’ll accompany you.” He promises.

As they walk back towards the ballroom, he steals occasional glances at you from beneath the silver adorning his head. He watches you walk beside him, your shoulders straight and back stiff. He realizes that this is how you behave around others, poised, regal. As they enter the ballroom again, he watches you completely transform into the royal they all knew, all relaxation leaving your form. He keeps his eyes on you for the rest of the night.

As the ball comes to an end and the guests begin to depart, Steve finds himself standing alone in the emptying ballroom. His eyes scan the receding crowd until they land on you, as they have been for hours. You look exhausted and beautiful under the fading candlelight. Without hesitation, he walks towards you. “My Lady?”

“Yes, Sir Steven?” You respond quickly.

He smiles. “Just Steven, remember?” he watches your smile before he speaks once more, “May I escort you to your chambers? You look as though you could use some rest.” His voice is low and concerned.

Usually, if one of your prior guards suggested such a thing, you would give them and unsavory look and maybe a scathing word. But with Steve, you simply say “Yes please.”

He offers you his arm to take, and when you do, he begins to lead you through the corridors of the castle, towards the royal chambers. Technically speaking, He’s not your personal guard, and this isn’t exactly allowed. Yes, he is to stay by your side on palace grounds. But not anywhere else. Not your bedchamber.

As they walk, he notices the heavy weight of your hand on his arm and the way your head leans against his shoulder slightly. It’s clear that you’re completely exhausted.

“I vex these balls.” You mumble. If your mother were here, she’d tell you it was unladylike to mumble.

But he just laughs softly under his breath. “Why do you go if you vex them?” His voice is low and nonjudgmental. He looks down at your tired expression as you yawn.

“I must. The King makes it so.” you answer simply.

His expression darkens slightly. You don’t attend these balls because you want to, but because your father, the King, makes you. His voice drops lower, almost tender. “Do you never get to choose?”

“I never get to choose anything in this life.” You say sadly.

He stops walking suddenly and turns to face you. His chest is filled with compassion and something else, something deeper that he can’t quite explain. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly.

“No apologies necessary, Steven. My problems are the kind that commoners dream of having. I am by no means suffering.” You point out humbly.

He nods, understanding your perspective. You’re right, your problems are that of a royal, and compared to the hardships of common folk, they do seem trivial. But to him, they are not. He sees the exhaustion in your eyes, the heavy weight on your shoulders. He points out the obvious. “You’re tired,” He states, meaning more than just physically.

You nod silently, and without thinking, he reaches out and gently brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. His gloved fingers linger on your cheek for a brief moment before falling away. “Let’s get you to bed,” he says softly. He begins walking again, leading you to your chambers. Once outside your door, he turns to you.

You speak first. “Thank you, Steven. Your knighthood is proving to be grander than any i’ve seen thus far.”

A small smile plays on his lips at the way you say his name. He bows slightly, playing along with the royal formalities. “It is my duty and honor to serve, Your Highness. And please… I know I requested you call me Steven… But you can call me Steve instead.”

You grin. “Alright, Steve.”

And his grin can’t help but match yours.

His hand rests briefly on the door handle before he pulls away. “Sleep well, sweet dreams… Your Majesty.”

He watches you enter your chambers, the door swinging shut behind you. And he knows he is officially screwed.

And as you’re leaned against your door, palm braced on your heart above your gown, your sentiments are of exactly the same vein.

[starksbabie]

[davidssdimples]

stranger things season 5 supposedly has a tv-ma warning so if joe keery isn’t butt ass booty naked on my humble abode television screen im canceling my netflix account

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

Ahhhhhhhhh! @starksbabie @professionalpromqueen

Excited for Joe but I think I'm more excited to see my two favorite people!!! ❤️

[starksbabie]

Gonna be so much fun! I can’t wait 🥰🥰🥰

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

Undeniably Addicted to You

Gator Tillman x Reader

CW: No use of y/n. Pet names. Established relationship. Gator is a lovesick idiot (reader is just as bad). Teasing banter. Drinking. Filth. Reader with a vagina. Fingering. Spitting. Unprotected sex. Cream pie.

WC: 4.1K

That familiar farmhouse stands out, a silhouette against a blanket of stars as you park your car on the front lawn. It would be serene if it weren’t for the annoyingly loud music drifting out of the open front door. It was evident the place was already overcrowded as you walked up, frosty grass crunching beneath your shoes as your slow strides lead you closer to the bustling party inside.

The bass thumped through the room, so deep it seemed to shake the entire house, rattling the windows. It was cramped and hot, too many people to keep track of but you’re only in search of one. You weave between tipsy girls and handsy guys, eyes scanning but then it seems all at once the bodies part as he comes into view.

You see him before he has the chance to spot you, sipping a drink in the corner, leaning casually against the wall, eyeing some blonde bimbo over the rim as she talks his head off. Not an unusual occurrence but it irritates you nonetheless.

He looks good tonight, chestnut hair clear of product, soft and bouncy as it hangs slightly at his forehead. Uniform long discarded and replaced with a simple plaid flannel left open with a snug black tee underneath and wrangler jeans that hugged his ass just right.

Even from your vantage point the boredom is evident across his features as his gaze slowly sweeps the room, eyes finally landing on you. His face lights up, sending a lopsided grin and wink your way as he straightens his posture, puffing his chest out. You roll your eyes but grin despite yourself.

Blondie doesn't notice that his attention is now drawn elsewhere, still prattling on, popping her gum as she speaks but he follows your movements as you slide through the crowd occupying the living room making your way into the kitchen.

It was less cramped, giving you a chance to breathe and look around. Roy would kill him if he saw the current state of his home. Red solo cups litter the counters and old oak dining table, leaving sticky residue and water rings on every surface. There was enough liquor and beer to keep the party going until morning, which you hoped wouldn't be the case this time.

He only did this on the occasion he knew his old man would be out of town for a few days. Gator was a burnout, the glory days of high school and his failed football career were long in the rearview but he still had a few high school buddies that would come around, especially for nights like these bringing with them a younger crowd that you didn't care for.

You mix a stiff drink in the cleanest cup you can find, taking a sip as strong arms snake around your middle, a warm and gentle pressure spreads across your back, his chest expanding with a deep breath before he speaks.

“Hey sugar.” He hums lowly, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear sending goosebumps across your skin sending a shiver down your spine.

“Gator,” you reply, tone laced with a feigned cold indifference as his lips meet your skin, planting a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Missed ya, baby.” He murmurs against you, lips still peppering kisses wherever he could reach, fingertips grazing your skin as he moves the loose strands of hair away from your neck.

“Didn't look like it.” You scoff, his movements pausing, met with a scoff in return accompanied with an eye roll you couldn't see as he pulls back to give you an incredulous stare, eyes boring into your profile.

“Don't.” He warns.

“Don't what?” You tilt your head to finally look at him with clueless expression, batting your long lashes.

“Don’t start that bullshit…” He murmurs with a hiss, voice lowering an octave. The grip around your waist loosens as his hand drifts to your hip and tightens harshly. “I can’t pin a sign to my goddamn chest that says “off limits,” ya know?”

“Now, that’s a thought.” Your grin grows, shifting in his grasp so you can face him fully, throwing your arms around his neck, while his grasp on your hips pulls you into him.

“Yeah, yeah.” He replies, eyes rolling once more with a huff. “M’sure you’d like that, huh?” Tongue darting out, wetting his lips, trying to hide a faint smile tugging at the edges of his mouth.

“I would actually.” You hum, eyes dropping to his lips and back up. “At least they’d back off.”

“She would’ve gotten the hint…eventually. Maybe if you’d shown up on time, she wouldn’t have talked to me. Ever think of that, darlin?” He grins wide, proud of his retort.

“Oh, so it’s my fault that blondie was hanging all over you?”

“Hey. I didn’t say that and she was not all over me.” He sighs, not yet exasperated but his frustration is beginning to show. You love pushing his buttons like this.

“Who knows what would have happened if I hadn’t shown up.” You pout, pushing your lower lip out in dramatic fashion.

“Nothin’ and ya know it. Ya want me to confess my undyin’ love for ya right here and right now? Ya know I will.” He threatens with a devious grin.

You don’t have the chance to respond before he's grabbing your hand and yanking you into the living room, stopping short at the bottom of the stairs. Your eyebrows marry with confusion, as he takes a deep breath.

“Hey everyone!” He shouts, but you quickly clamp your hand over his mouth before he can continue. He looks surprised but there’s an amused twinkle to his eyes.

“Stop.” You hiss, looking around to see a few curious onlookers but his loud ass mouth hadn’t made much of a disturbance.

He lifts your hand revealing a wide grin before he laughs, “What? I told ya I would.”

He licks his lips, leaning in and pulling your hips flush to his as you let out a surprised squeak, his forehead resting against yours.

“Better yet,” he lowers his voice, as if the music wouldn’t drown it out, “I don’t have to tell them once they hear how good I'm making ya feel. Hmmm?”

His words send tingles down your spine and sparks immediately flare at your core, your breath catches slightly and he knows he has you. His hand slides down to your ass, griping it possessively, leaning in further to whisper right in your ear.

“Never been the quiet type, huh, darlin? Don’t go quiet on me now.”

He pulls back just enough to see your flushed expression and parted lips but doesn’t allow your body to move from his, letting you feel the semi he’s sporting against your lower stomach with a smirk.

“You’re awfully full of yourself.” You retort, trying to regain some sense of composure but it's too late.

“Baby, ya can't help yourself from screaming my fuckin’ name when I'm inside that tight little pussy and don't act like ya aren't wet right now.”

“Shut up.” You giggle, playfully swatting at his chest, hating that he's right. You were already painfully aware of the growing damp spot in your panties.

“See, there ya go getting all cute and shit.” He says before suddenly pulling away and gripping your legs before you realize what's happening, he’s hosting you over his shoulder with a small grunt.

“Gator!” You yelp, as his hand comes down across your ass making you squirm. You grip his belt at the back of his pants to steady yourself against him as he turns to head upstairs. Whistles and cheers from down below echo around the room making your cheeks heat with embarrassment.

He laughs, carrying you effortlessly up the stairs. You still your body from any further protests realizing there’s no use in fighting him at this point, taking one last glance back at the crowd, spotting blondie in the corner sulking as you send her a slight wave, wiggling your fingers as you both disappear around the corner.

He takes even, measured steps making his way to his room at the end of the hall, throwing his door open and kicking it shut behind him, quickly ushering you inside and over to his unkempt bed. Your body lands with a bounce as he tosses you rather unceremoniously but not harshly, onto the worn mattress making a soft giggle escape you.

“Jerk.” You say breathlessly, with no real malice as he toes his boots off by the bed, shrugging the flannel from his shoulders then coming to wrap a calloused hand around your ankle to help ease your shoes off just the same, dropping one by one to the floor with small thuds.

“Mhmm. Just a big ole jerk, with a big ole dick.” He murmurs, before he’s crawling onto the bed overtop of you, settling between your parted thighs, caging you in, holding himself up with his elbows. You huff a laugh at his statement, that quickly turns into a low moan when he grinds his hips into yours, his growing bulge sliding deliciously against your clothed core.

“S’that all it takes to render you speechless, darlin?” He hums with a mirth of amusement watching the way your eyelids flutter shut.

A slow smile spreads across your face as you look up at him, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him further into you. His hazel eyes now a mere ring of color outlining his dark, lust blown pupils.

“Thought you were gonna make me scream your name, baby?” You question, grinding your hips back into his for retaliation. He sucks in a sharp breath, hips bucking back of their own accord.

“You play dirty, sweetheart. But don’t worry, we’ve got plenty o’time to make that happen.” He murmurs, leaning in, lips ghosting over yours but pulling away at the last second, causing you to chase after him with a small whine. It was embarrassing how easily he could get you worked up, ready and pliant for his affection.

A smirk splits his face when your eyes find his once more, thumb brushing over your bottom lip as he caresses your cheek, leaning in again crashing his lips to yours in a sinful and needy kiss. He tilts your jaw to his liking, deepening the kiss as his tongue slips in, mingling with yours. He tastes of the cheap beer he’d been nursing, a flavor you had grown accustomed to, but something undeniably underneath was all Gator.

It quickly becomes messy and heated when you wrap your arms around his neck, tongues sliding against each other with practiced ease. He finds the hem of your shirt, fingertips meeting your bare skin, brushing against your stomach, drifting past your ribs and stopping at the underside of your breast when he reaches the edge of your bra. Your back arches into his touch giving him all the permission he needs, slipping underneath the lacy fabric. It sends sparks shooting through you as he squeezes your supple flesh, letting his thumb brush over your nipple, immediately causing it to pebble under his touch as you moan into his mouth.

It’s only then that he breaks the kiss, panting, “God I love the sounds you make.” He nips at your lower lip, sucking it softly before letting it go with a soft pop, continually kneading your breast as he grinds his now hard length down against you, catching your clit deliciously through your jeans making your cunt ache all the more.

“Fuck,” he growls, “let me get you out of this.” His hand leaves your breast making you pout the tiniest bit but he makes quick work of your shirt, pulling it over your head. Too impatient, your hands fly to the clasp of your bra to undo it hastily and get rid of the offending garment, tossing it into the floor.

“Fuck me.” He pulls back to look at you spread out beneath him. “Fuckin’ perfect tits.” He huffs, groping and pushing them together, his thumbs finding your already pert nipples. Your back arches when he presses his face between them, tongue darting out to taste you. His focus turns to one nipple lapping and sucking it into his mouth before he lavishes the same attention to the other.

“Gator!” You whine, cradling his head to you. He tries to ignore the way his cock strains painfully against his jeans, begging for attention but when your hips grind up again, it's too hard to ignore.

He groans, pausing his ministrations and laying his forehead to your chest when his length kicks up against his jeans, begging for any sort of relief.

“Christ.” He murmurs between your tits, breath hot against your skin, before he begins trailing kisses down your sternum and lower still. His touch continues down, reaching for the button of your jeans and popping it with practiced ease, slipping skilled fingers underneath the waistband of your panties and finding your wet center.

“Fuckin' knew it.” He rumbles, voice gravely and lust laden, easing back up until hip lips are right by your ear. “Goddamn soaked f’me.”

“Uh huh,” you sigh out, eyes fluttering shut, unable to formulate a snarky comeback when his middle finger sweeps over your clit. You grip his shirt pulling at the hem watching through hooded eyes as he takes the hint, removing his hand briefly from your mound, sitting up and quickly pulling it over head and throwing it somewhere across the room.

You smile up at him, biting your lip when your gaze roams over his exposed skin. His smirk widens as he catches you staring, which only further inflates his ego, flexing his pecs.

He immediately works your zipper the rest of the way down.

“Lift up f’me.” He commands softly, helping ease your jeans and panties down your thighs when you oblige him.

He all but growls staring down at you, finally bare and wanting. He takes a few moments to appreciate the site before him, the already blissed our expression with soft parted lips, kiss bitten and swollen. Your breasts rising and falling with each breath and your pussy… His breath slightly hitches, God, your bare pussy glistening and waiting for his touch or his cock. He'd never get tired of seeing you like this.

Your fingertips move down his stomach, momentarily knocking him from his lust fueled daze, the muscles flexing under your soft touch, nails lightly scratching as they trace down his happy trail.

His hips thrust forward when you palm at his bulge, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back, relishing the feel of your touch with a low moan as he squeezes your thigh, pushing your legs further apart.

“Fuck. I need t’be inside that pussy baby.” He hums, eyes meeting yours once more, finger tracing down your slick slit. “Ya need more teasing or—” He doesn’t finish that thought as he parts your sticky lips, dipping his finger into your sweet nectar and circling your puffy clit, watching the way your entrance clenches around nothing, cunt aching with unrelenting need.

“Just want you baby.” You finally manage to rasp out with a gasp, mind beginning to turn hazy from the little pleasure he was allowing.

He curses low at your breathy statement. The sound of his belt clinking open has your eyes snapping open in time to see him pushing his jeans and boxers down his muscular thighs just enough to free his thick cock. It stands at immediate attention, slapping against his lower stomach, a strand of precum connecting the ruddy tip to his skin for a moment. It twitches with a renewed vigor before he’s wrapping his hand around his throbbing member to give himself a modicum amount of relief, stroking slowly, as your hips grind up toward him, pussy weeping, begging to be filled.

He jerks his clothes the rest of the way down, leaning over you to kick them completely off, his motions displaying an internal desperation that matches your own.

Sliding back up the bed, his knee nudges your thigh up, hand quickly wrapping back around his cock. The fat tip ruts in-between your soaked lips, gathering the wetness before bumping your clit. Your hips jerk upward, seeking the relief your body craves.

He notches himself at your entrance, not yet breaching, pausing briefly as if seeking your permission that you eagerly give with a jerky nod.

He enters slowly, his tip carving its way through your tight walls, girthy cock deliciously splitting you open in the best way.

“Goddamn,” he huffs, releasing a shuddering breath. “Always so fuckin' tight.”

You moan in response, as he captures your lips, tongue tangling briefly with yours, swallowing the sound. His length sinks further in, inch by inch, all patience quickly dissolving when your pussy flutters around him, his cock driving deeper with a sudden snap of his hips.

“Oh fuck!” You cry out, the sensation of being completely filled overwhelming your senses, his head falls forward burying itself in the crook of your neck, releasing a harsh breath to steel himself. He stays like that for just a moment, telling himself it's for you to adjust, but he feels just as wrecked, cock twitching with anticipation, pent up and ready to explode.

He kisses your neck once, pulling out slowly, letting you feel every single inch leaving just the tip. He lifts his head, looking down at the space between you, his warm hand suddenly pushing your thigh further against the bed, so he can see himself disappear when he pushes just as slowly back in. He smirks at the whine you make, throwing your head back as he splits you open.

He's big and knows it. It doesn't matter how many times you find yourself on your back for him, there was always a subtle burn before it gave way to immense pleasure. You've learned to relish it, the way his cock hits every deep spot that no one else ever could, sometimes feeling him for days long after you've given yourself over to him.

“Goddamn, takin’ me like a good girl.”

And there it is. Words that make your tummy flip, your body keening upward to meet his next thrust. He maintains a slow rhythm, sliding in and out, his eyes locked onto the way your pussy sucks him in a little deeper each time.

You dare to glance at him, hair softly bouncing at his forehead with each unrushed movement of his hips. His eyes are still glued to where the two of you meet as if mesmerized by the sight. Your palm meets his cheek, drawing his attention back to you. You're already blissed out, all soft gazes and flushed cheeks, head fuzzy with nothing but thoughts of the way he makes you feel.

He nods knowingly, the look in your eyes giving him the go ahead to pick up the pace. The grip on your thigh loosens, moving to hike your leg higher around his waist, warmth spreading across your hip to pin you down instead.

Your moans grow louder with the new position, fingernails dragging across his back.

“That's it baby… Let me hear those sweet sounds. Tell me how good this cock makes you feel.” His chest fills with pride knowing he was the one doing this to you.

“Gator!” You cry out when his length drags along the spot that makes you see stars.

“Right there.” He smirks, maintaining the same path in and out of your slick walls.

A switch flips in your brain; it was too much and not enough. Your nails dig into his back, making him hiss, wrapping your legs tightly around his hips, locking your heels at the base of his spine.

He hums, leaning down to lave his tongue hot across your nipple, sucking harshly with the next snap of his hips.

“Harder!” You cry out, finding your voice, making his eyes darken with a newfound desire. He sinks his teeth lightly into your pert nub, before popping off with a wicked grin.

“Fuck, there she is. Unlock your legs baby.” He commands, pausing his movements momentarily, shifting back as you do so, pulling out, making you whine at the loss.

He chuckles at your impatience, gripping under your thighs to push them up toward your chest, leaving him with the perfect view of your pussy open and wanting.

“Look at that pretty little tang. All f’me.” He praises, watching your cunt clench around nothing, your puffy clit aching with need.

“Gat— ahhhh!” The words die on your tongue as spit lands directly on your core, followed by the head of his cock nudging at your clit and back down.

“Keep those legs up baby.” He murmurs, gripping the base of his throbbing cock, feeding it back into your greedy cunt. He's done with the pleasantries, you're both needy and craving release.

He immediately pulls back and starts pounding into you, heavy balls slapping your ass, the sound of skin slapping skin echoes around the room. His large hands keep a firm hold on the back of your thighs, fingers digging so hard into your flesh you know you'll have bruises in the morning.

“Take it— fuckin' take it like a good girl.” He grits out between heavy thrusts. At this angle it feels like he's going to split you in half, he's hitting every nerve ending imaginable, hurdling you incredibly fast toward the precipice.

You cry out, gripping his forearm, eyes closing against the onslaught of pleasure coursing through your veins. He knows you're close, knows your body as well as his own and also knows you need that little extra push.

He releases one thigh, quickly finding your swollen and needy clit, thumb coming down to press tight circles against you. Your free leg jolts against his thigh, the sensation almost too much. He growls hearing your loud, unfiltered moans, past the point of coherent words. He loves seeing you like this, mindless, drunk on pleasure. All because of him.

“Go on, come f’me. Cream this fuckin’ cock.” He urges, your belly tightens and spine tingles, pussy fluttering with your impending high. He angles upward, his next push sending you over the edge when he hits that place that has those fireworks burst behind your eyelids.

It's an implosion, a tidal wave of pure ecstasy washing over you at full force. Your pussy clenches around him, pulsing over and over, ripping a pornographic cry from your chest.

“Jesus… fuck…” He hisses, trying but failing to keep him composure, as his balls tighten. A few more sloppy thrusts and he's spilling inside you. Thick, hot ropes of his sticky spend coat your insides, your pussy milking every last drop.

He collapses forward onto your chest, pressing you into the mattress, dick still twitching inside you. “Holy shit…” He pants heavily, body slick with sweat, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

You manage to murmur a low hum of agreement, your body boneless and exhausted.

“Did I break you?” He chuckles breathlessly, gently kissing your neck making you squirm.

“I don’t know yet.” You giggle, then hiss as he pulls his softening cock from your sensitive cunt.

“M’sorry,” he murmurs, kissing your cheek, lying beside you. “Ya sure you’re okay?” He adds teasingly, knowing damn well he just fucked you senseless, his fingertips ghosting over your mound, dangerously close to your core causing you to shudder, now oversensitive and hyperaware of every little touch.

“See? Broke.” He chuckles once more at your reaction. Leaning down to kiss your collarbone, he whispers, “Ya look fuckin’ beautiful like this, ya know that?” His fingertips continue to trace slowly over your exposed body causing an eruption of goosebumps.

“Mmmm, I love you.” You hum out, curling into him, giving him those soft doe eyes he can’t resist.

His heart soars, as he cups your cheek tenderly. “Love you too, baby. Fuckin’ hell.” His lips move to kiss your forehead. “You’re wrecked though.”

“Thouroughly.” You grin, spent and satiated feeling safe and warm in your afterglow. He roughly pulls his sheets up to cover the both of you as the party below still rages toward dawn.

“We got a lot of cleaning up tomorrow. When does Roy get back?” You softly murmur, eyes already shut, body succumbing to sleep.

“Shhh… We’ll worry about that tomorrow. Old man doesn’t get back until Sunday, we got plenty o’time.” He coaxes you closer, turning so he can wrap an arm around your middle, kissing your temple with a heavy sigh.

"I’m one lucky bastard.” He whispers before finally following you to dreamland.

[starksbabie]

I love him your honor! Where do I find my own Gator? I need one. Please and thank you! Seriously Jojo this is so so so good. I love their teasing antics and the way he just melts her to nothing 🫠