🪽🦌🦢

your house was empty tonight, your parents away for the weekend.

that's how you ended up in your bed, laying with gator behind you, your naked back against his bare chest.

your legs were apart, gator's hand between them, two of his fingers gliding in and out of you rhythmically.

"mm gator- don't stop"

the whole house was quiet, making the pornographic sounds from your bedroom seem even louder.

wet squelching from your dripping cunt mixed with your whiny moans and gators low grumble of dirty words.

"you're squeezing my fingers so much princess- jesus"

"don't sa- aah mm"

"what was that sweet thing?"

you couldn't answer, gators thumb rubbing circles on your clit made you lose all ability to think straight.

"aw babygirl can't talk? you feel too good?"

"uh huuuuh"

his fingers sped up, curling upwards to hit your sweet spot perfectly as his other hand roamed your whole upper body.

he groped your chest, pinching your hardened nipples sending sparks of pleasure through your whole body.

his hand settled around your throat in a possessive manner, squeezing just enough to make you dizzy.

"gator-“

"hmm?"

"so close"

"cum for me baby, be a good girl an cum all over my fingers"

you let out a filthy moan as your back arched off gators chest and your legs trembled.

your hands were behind you in gators hair before moving them to wrap around the wrist of his hand that continued to ride out your orgasm.

his hand slowed down and eventually eased out of you, leaving you empty and aching.

gator stuck his head in the crook of your neck, kissing and nipping at the skin as he praised you.

"did so well for me, so good"

his tone sparked a fire deep inside of you, something you'd never even dreamed of.

well maybe you had. not that you'd ever admit it. it was a sin, and you'd been so careful to do everything but actually sin.

but a dangerous wave of lust had clouded over all your senses, and you acted before you could stop.

"gator"

"ya okay baby?"

you leaned back to look at him, your lips ghosting his.

"want more, more of you- all of you"

his eyes widened in shock, in joy, in disbelief. the moment he's been waiting for since he'd first seen you.

"you- uh"

"please"

you leaned forward to kiss him. he kissed you back softly worried about breaking the moment.

"are you sure ma-?”

"yeah, please"

yes your words were mainly fuelled by pure horniness and a new found side to you thanks to gator.

but you felt safe. safe with gator. safe with the fact that doing this should be wrong. but with him, it felt more than right.

"okay shh yeah"

gator moved from behind you, letting you fall onto your back as he rolled over onto you, settling between your legs.

he took your mouth in a heated kiss, tongue sliding against yours deep into your mouth.

his hands went underneath your thighs, parting your legs and holding them just against his hips which he'd stripped off without you even knowing.

you could feel his cock heavy against your inner thigh as he rolled his hips down against your core.

"still sure about this"

his constant reassurance made your chest tighten.

"yes gator- please"

"alright baby- gonna take good care of you"

as he whispered reassurance into your mouth you felt the blunt head of his cock slide through your folds.

you whimpered when he nudged your still sensitive clit over and over.

your hands were on gators shoulders as his were groping the pillowy flesh of your thighs.

"gatoooor- please just-"

he cut you off by pushing the tip of his cock into you, making you choke on a moan mid plea.

"fuuuck- fuck your so tight"

he pushed in agonisingly slowly, allowing you to adjust to each inch before going further.

"you feel so good baby- you still with me?"

one of his hands came up to your face, cupping your cheek, rubbing his thumb gently into the skin under your eye.

"yeah, i'm okay"

"so fucking pretty under me like this- shit- could get fucking used to this"

he pushed in an inch further, now being fully seated deep inside you. the stretch burned, bringing tears to your eyes.

"feel that hm? feel how deep i am"

"uh huuuh- 's so good" you whined.

"yeah?"

you waited until the burn of his stretch subsided and blended into pleasure when you told him to move.

the first thrust of his hips knocked the air out of your lungs as you cried out, eyes rolling back in bliss.

he kept going, a slow roll of his hips forcing himself deep inside you.

his hand moved to your jaw, keeping you grounded in the moment as your arms wrapped around his neck.

you opened your eyes, meeting gators straight away. the sight made your chest ache in the best way possible.

you looked up at him, really looked.

the way his cheeks were flushed slightly, the way his hair fell loose from the gel cast you always complained about.

the way his eyebrows were furrowed in a mix of pleasure and concentration above his big brown eyes.

"gator.."

"yeah baby?"

"i love you"

your voice was hardly audible, coming out as a quiet whimper.

gators hips stuttered, pushing into you deeper and harder than he intended making you wince.

"you- uh sorry"

he stopped himself, your heart sank.

why did you say that, he didn't love you, he's freaked out that you—

you're snapped out of your thoughts by gators mouth on you.

he kissed you slowly, passionately. less rough than before but still with the same feeling of desperation.

"i- i love you too"

he pulled back to look at you, to see your reaction to his confession.

"you do?"

"yeah"

you crashed your lips back into his, bucking your hips up to create some friction.

reminding him of where his cock was currently buried, he responded with by pulling out and slamming back in.

you cried out into his mouth, tugging on gators hair at his sudden thrust.

"like that?" he murmured against your mouth with a smile.

"mm yeaaah- can you- harder"

"fuuck mama- you want it harder huh?"

he deepened his movement, your back arching off the mattress.

you wrapped your legs around gators back, forcing him deeper.

"fuuuck- yeah that's my girl"

he kissed over your face, down your jaw and along your neck. stopping to suck and bite on certain places he knew drove you insane.

"gator-" you choked out.

"you're so fucking tight- my god"

your stomach dropped at his word, your hand flying to the cross resting on your chest.

"you touching that shit ain't gonna change nothing sweet thing" he cooed

there was no real bite in his words, if anything there was actually a tone of affection but the gesture still sparked a fire inside him.

you couldn't answer anyway, the tension in your lower stomach threatening to snap any seconds as he sped up.

"gatorgatorgator-"

his hand left your face, snaking between your bodies to rub circles on your clit.

you cried out loud, legs starting to shake as your orgasm hurled closer.

"fuck- you gonna cum? cum around my cock baby then be a good girl and let me fill you right up"

you sobbed his name as you came undone beneath him, burning hot pleasure taking over your whole body.

gator buried his head in your neck as he came after a couple more thrusts, filling you with his spend.

"fuck i love you"

he finally stilled his hips as your legs fell off of him.

for a moment you were silent, just listening to each others heavy breathing.

he moved first, pulling out of you and rolling onto the mattress next to you.

you exhaled heavily at the sudden emptiness between your legs and the loss of gators hands on you.

that didn't last long as not even a minute later, gators hands were wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him.

"you okay babygirl?"

"mhm"

"hey talk to me"

"good- promise"

"yeah?"

"'m happy"

you looked up at him, at his sleepy yet tender expression, and kiss him softly

"i'm happy too- love you"

"i love you gate"

you fell asleep cradled by gator, protected by his strong hold, dreaming about your future with him.

almost a year later, you were still gator's girl. and you wouldn't change it for the world.

there was nothing you hadn't done, no where you hadn't had sex.

he'd brought out an extremely dirty side to you that even shocked you.

but it was actually more than that, you truly loved him. and he loved you more than anything.

it scared both of you at first, but you adapted to each others lives so naturally it made it all easier.

you still kept that 'stupid' necklace and gator would still curse every sentence. so maybe somethings never change

it was the first night in your new home with gator.

you'd already 'christened' half the house and were now close to passing out with your limbs tangled with gators.

"i love you so much mama"

"i love you so much too gates"

"my corrupted lil girl"

you giggled at his words, nodding into his chest.

after the dry humping incident with gator, you did it about five more times.

each time had you feeling guilty for engaging in such scandalous behaviours. but as gator assured you, there was nothing technically sinful about it.

besides, you enjoyed it so much more than you felt guilty about it.

back on his lap, grinding into his bulge with his tounge down your throat, you had a wave of confidence wash over.

your hand traveled down to his crotch, palming his semi hard dick until it was fully hard. practically busting at the seams of his zipper.

"feeling brave are we sweet thing?"

"can i?" you looked at him with innocent eyes.

"can you what?"

your confidence was broken, not being able to bring yourself to say it out loud. and he could tell

"you want your hands on my cock?"

you nodded quickly, blush creeping up your face, but you were already shifting to the side.

"go on then, 's all yours babygirl"

you fumbled his zipper, heart beating fully out of your chest. gator was practically vibrating with anticipation.

you got his jeans open, with the help of him. he shuffled them down, kicking them off joining the pile of both your shirts.

his boxers were tented, the waistband lifting off his abdomen.

your fingers hooked into the waistband, pulling it down slowly. your eyes widened at the sight of his cock springing out.

this was the first time you had been faced with one. it was intimidating but made your mouth water uncontrollably.

the tip was flushed and swollen, glistening with pre-cum already.

"go on, it's not gonna bite" he laughed, reaching down to cup your jaw tenderly.

your small hand wrapped around the base timidly, running it upwards to the tip, swiping your thumb over the slit, as your other hand went up to your chest, brushing your fingers over your cross.

the first touch of your hand sent gators vision blurry. his head fell back against the headboard of his bed as his breathing got deeper.

his reaction boosted your confidence, your hand doing another stroke of his cock, lingering longer at the head.

he looked back at you, hand back on your cheek, thumb brushing over your lips.

"that feels so good, your doing so good"

"yeah?" you whisper, face flushing red in embarrassment.

"yeah, shit”

you sped up more, smearing his pre cum down his length fully. you were just getting into it when gators hand grabbed yours.

you looked up confused, worried you'd done something wrong.

"what- did i-"

"no no baby shh it's okay"

he sat up a bit more fully against the headboard, leaning forward to kiss you.

"want you to use your mouth, you can do that?"

you looked back with furrowed eyebrows. you knew what he wanted, but did you have the confidence to do it.

"i don't-"

"it's okay, i'll talk you right though it yeah?"

both his hands were on your cheeks, forcefully making you nod your head.

you swallowed, feeling nervous, but the wetness between your legs took over your mind as you moved to settle with your head above gators crotch.

"good girl"

his hands threaded through your hair, moving it out of your face.

"okay baby, just do what you were doing yeah- with your hands"

you obeyed, leaning your weight on your elbows as you took his cock in one hand.

"good, now.. spit a little on it, get it nice and wet first"

you locked eyes with gator as you let a string of saliva fall onto the head of his cock.

he had to bite his lip to stop him moaning from the sight, and the images of what you were about to do.

no he needed to stop thinking or he was going to just cum there and then.

"just do what feels right yeah? start with just a lick, get used to it okay princess.."

you nodded, sticking your tongue out and kitten licking the head before licking a fat stripe from base to tip.

"yeahhh fuuuck"

you repeated that a couple more times before lifting up and taking the head into your mouth.

gator was struggling to hold back, letting out a deep groan as you suckled on the head and continued your movements with your hand.

"you're so good baby. such a good girl for me"

his words went straight through you, impulsively deciding to take him further.

you didn't go down too far, not even half, already feeling so full. you focused on the top half for a minute, pulling more and more moans from deep in gators chest.

you paused bobbing your head to take more of gator. but he couldn't hold back.

his hips bucked up involuntarily, forcing more of his cock down your throat than you were anticipating.

your hands tightened on his thighs as you gagged around him, eyes watering, spit dribbling out from around your mouth, collecting at the base of his cock.

"shiiiit- shit sorry baby fuck- you just- you feel so good"

his grip on your hair loosened so you pull up and catch your breath, coughing and spluttering.

"you're doing so well. need a minute baby?"

you shook your head, licking your lips.

"no- wanna keep going"

"yeah? yeah go on then- you know what to do"

you take him further this time, bobbing your head up and down occasionally stopping at the tip to swirl your tongue around the slit, collecting his bittersweet pre cum.

"keep going baby girl, just like that, i'm so close, fuuuck"

your hand works on what you can't reach, gator lightly holding your head, not forcing, just guiding.

you stopped near the bottom for a second, gagging lightly around him as tears finally spilled out and down your cheeks, mixing with the mess of saliva already coating your face.

"fuck gonna cum, gonna cum right in that pretty little mouth. you want that? want all my cum?"

you moaned around him and nodded best you could, not wanting to slow the pace.

"fuuuuck"

gators hands tightened and his hips bucked up as he came. hot ropes of cum shot into your mouth down your throat.

the sensation caught you off guard, not in a bad way, but you swallowed most of it before you pulled up off him in shock, the last ropes hitting your face.

you coughed a couple times blinking rapidly getting your senses back. your eyes found gators who looked back at you in awe.

"jesus chri-"

"DONT- say that!"

you hit his thigh, almost choking at his words more than the feeling of his dick down your throat.

he just smirked, putting his boxers back on, reaching forward to pull you up to him. he kissed your face, tasting his own spend on your skin.

"you did so good baby, i'm so proud" he cooed.

he lifted his hand to wipe the side of your mouth, collecting a bit of his cum on his thumb.

before he could do anything you leant forward, taking his thumb into your mouth, cleaning it off.

he raised his eyebrows at your unprovoked dirty action, cock jumping in his underwear.

"i think someone deserves a reward for how well she did" he whispered.

you looked at him in confusion, not picking up what he meant.

"lie down for me baby"

you did as he said, heart speeding up again.

he kissed across your face, down your chest and stomach, stopping just above your jean shorts.

"what- what are you doing?"

"rewarding you sweets- gonna make you feel so good"

"oh?"

"you trust me yeah?

"mhm"

"good, just relax for me"

you let out a breath, shoulders falling into the soft pillows, hand finding your necklace charm again.

gator made quick work on your zipper, tugging off and discarding the shorts in a second.

he layed between your legs, pushing your thighs open with force. wet panties fully on display to him.

he's not seen past this point yet, but you weren't that nervous. as long as it wasn't actual sex, your still okay.

"so gorgeous" he whispered.

he leant in, kissing your clit over the lacy fabric. the sensation made you jolt, lifting your hips to meet his face.

"shhh patience baby"

you whined in response, already squirming and kicking your legs, lifting onto your elbows to watch him.

he rid you of your panties agonisingly slowly, sliding his fingers through your soaking wet folds whilst kissing and biting at the skin of your inner thighs.

"gator- please"

"princess.." he warned.

you huffed dropping onto your back again, closing your eyes briefly.

only for them to fly open again when you felt gator kiss your bare clit. your hips bucked again and one hand rushed to his hair.

gator pushed your hips back down, holding his forearms over your hips, hands splayed out on your stomach as he continued to kiss your pussy.

you continued to whine, fighting against his strength.

"think i need to teach you a thing or two about patience in the future"

gator pulled back looking up at you. your heart dropped thinking he was done but he quickly replaced his mouth with one thumb.

he circled your clit slowly, gathering all your wetness and smearing it around.

"but since you have been so good already today-"

"yeah yeah so good i'll be so good for you"

he smirked at you, at your desperation, and moved one of your thighs over his shoulder.

his mouth was back on you, fast, wet and hot.

he didn't hold back, and neither could you.

you moaned loud as he slurped at your pussy. his tongue lapped at your arousal as he sucked on your clit.

your thighs were trembling, pushing up against his hands holding them open.

your lower stomach felt tight, like a coil winding up and up, impossibly tighter.

you tugged at gators hair, making him moan onto you. you subsequently crying out at the vibration.

his tongue kept flicking your clit and drinking up your wetness as your back arched off the bed.

"gator- i- aaah- so close"

he hummed into your pussy, shaking his head back and forth. he was completely and utterly lost in the taste of you.

"GATOR-" you screamed.

"cum for me- wanna taste all of you"

you didn't hear his words, your orgasm crashing over you violently.

your head flew back into the pillows, back arching and legs shaking uncontrollably. you whined and cried out gators name as he continued to eat you out through your orgasm.

the main waves died down, leaving you clouded and shaky, gator still on you.

"gator"

you pulled at his hair, trying to get him off.

your whole body jerked at the aftershocks and each lick of gator tongue.

"gator- too much- stop- please"

he pulled off finally, your whole body going limp when he let go.

you hardly noticed him climbing up the bed next to you untill you felt his arms wrap around you and pull you onto his chest.

"okay baby girl?" he cooed.

"yeah- so good"

"mm that's my girl"

he kissed your forehead, whispering sweet nothings against your skin as you fell asleep to the sound of his voice and rhythm of his heartbeat.

ຣ bnd!steve who still invites you to his birthday parties even though his friends think you’re weird (you kind of are, because you are a horse girl).

there’s probably a year where he does this to explicitly be a little mean bc he is a teenage boy.

he’s turning 14, you’re 13, and he the invitation he sends you says that the party starts at 6PM. when you arrive, you’re very obviously late, and he and his other friends snicker a little while steve says, loudly in front of everyone, that the party started at 3, and you live right next door, how could you get it so messed up?

ຣ bnd!steve, who invites you to his family parties from there on out, because he’s known you so long that it just makes more sense for you to celebrate with his cousins than his friends, who don’t understand you or his friendship with you anyway. he pulls you aside and apologizes for the previous year, and even though it’s a whole year late, you just shrug it off. you get him back at your birthday party anyway by making him comply with the theme (still horses, because your mom kind of can’t take a hint that you’ve outgrown that kind of thing).

ຣ goddamn fucking bnd!steve inviting his girlfriend(s) over to his house to go swimming when it’s hot enough (and even when it’s not, because nothing is more conducive to misbehavior than teenagers off from school and home alone while their parents are at work). watching him from the too-hot, still air of your bedroom, your fan barely making a dent in the heat while they splash around in the water. her pushing steve off the diving board, steve splashing her in retribution. her untying her bikini top and tossing it out of the pool, and steve crowding her against the wall of the deep end, his face pressed to her neck while you try and try to just read your honors english assignment you were given to do over break.

ຣ bnd!steve whose bedroom is directly across from yours, and it was never a problem until he was 18 and you were 17 and the day comes when you accidentally see into steve’s room when he brings a girl in there, post-pool antics. after that you always keep your curtains drawn. because you didn’t see anyone’s parts but well, you sure were about to.

ຣ bnd!steve who agrees to go to your prom with you when your mom asks, but you freak OUT about it bc you did NOT want to ask him. you definitely don’t even like him! not like that!

your mom going behind your back to ask steve to your prom for you on your behalf is mortifying. you refuse to let him take you so you do go alone with your friends, but when you leave and need a ride home bc you’re the Only one who went stag, you discover steve was there the whole time in the parking lot waiting, just in case.

ຣ bnd!steve not coming over the day in late summer when you’re leaving for college but just stepping out onto the porch to casually give you a wave as your dad’s car starts driving off with you and all your crap in the backseat. he doesn’t go back inside until your dad turns at the end of the block, and you keep looking out the side window at him until you can’t anymore.

ຣ bnd!steve who, in the only way he can get your attention through the closed window with your curtains drawn, starts shining a flashlight at the side of your house. it’s late, christmas eve, but he knows you’re in your room because he saw the light turn on and then off a few minutes later.

tentatively, you peel the drapes back and see him there, window open, half hanging out of it with the flashlight waving in your face.

you push up the glass pane and lean your hands on the sill.

“what?” you ask, half annoyed and half endeared. you guys haven’t talked much since you started keeping your window all buttoned up.

“just wanted to say merry christmas,” steve calls back, and you soften.

you pause just a beat. “merry christmas,” you say back, and he smiles at you, then nods and waves and you both retreat into your bedrooms.

ຣ bnd!steve who comes thisclose to asking your mom for your school address so he can write you a letter when you head back to college in the spring.

ຣ bnd!steve who never realized or considered he may have had a crush on you until he sees you with some other guy, your boyfriend who comes to visit you over summer break after your freshman year.

it just leads to steve coming to terms with the fact that he may have always considered you a sure thing or “his” because you were always there, always at his beck and call, always around for him. he decides to just take the L because you seem happy with your college bf.

ຣ bnd!steve who overhears you on the phone with your best friend talking about how you wanted to try sex when your boyfriend was there that summer, but it was seriously underwhelming. your bedrooms still face each other after all, it’s not his fault your window is open and the drapes you have handing over your VERY OPEN window don’t do much to smother the sound of your voice, which maybe he’s been attuned to for longer than he realizes.

and steve goes from “i shouldn’t be listening to this” to “what an asshole” to “i can do BETTER” to “wait i shouldn’t be thinking that”

because you’re telling your girlfriend about how he made you feel really comfortable and excited and then once he got on top of you, he just turned into this selfish lump of a guy who only got himself off, asked “you finished too, right?” and then when you told him no, just barely fingered you and you had just told him you came because it was so pathetically bad that you didn’t even want to anymore.

ຣ bnd!steve seeing you out by the fire pit alone toasting a marshmallow on the hazy early august evening, that’s basically burnt to a crisp bc you’re zoned out bc your bf just dumped you. over the phone. because you didn’t want to sleep with him anymore. (he’d been visiting for a week! how did he expect to have sex in your parents’ house without getting caught? yes, he overheard that conversation too.)

ຣ bnd!steve meandering over into your backyard like it isn’t past midnight and sitting next to you without saying a word. just staying silent as you murmur a shaky “hey” and just finally toss the stupid marshmallow and stick into the fire and ask what he’s doing there, it’s late.

“looked like you could use an old friend, maybe” is the answer he gives you, and when you just huff he starts to tell you a story about a time you forgot: when he was 8 and you were 7 and he caught a frog in his yard. how it wriggled out of his hold and escaped into your yard. how you captured it again and handed it to him through the hole in the fence and ever since then he’s owed you, and so he’s finally paying you back.

like he didn’t embarrass himself at your horse-themed birthday party.

like he didn’t show up to your prom even though you didn’t want him to.

like he didn’t stop bringing girls over to his room once he realized that was probably why you’d started to keep your curtains firmly closed.

and this frog story. it’s really stupid and doesn’t help but it does remind you of all the history you have with him and when you get up from your lawn chair after a few minutes of contemplative silence and move it closer to his, he just lets you hold his hand and watch the fire until it burns down to embers.

you’re half asleep on his shoulder, his face buried in your hair until you sit up and look at him in the moonlight. he squeezes your hand but doesn’t move, because as much as he wants it he doesn’t expect anything.

nor should he. you’ve been his girl forever, but never really his girl.

ຣ bnd!steve’s breath catching in his throat when you tip your chin up and kiss him. soft, featherlight.

ຣ bnd!steve kissing you easy and slow by the smoldering fire, the stick you were using to try and roast your marshmallow little more than ash now. the bag of the rest of them is still off to the side somewhere, forgotten—tomorrow, your mother will ask how you forgot an entire bag of marshmallows outside, all stuck together, partially melted from the dew and then the sun beaming down on them in the heat of late summer, and you’ll have to lie and tell her you were just tired.

because you are. you stay outside with steve until the sun starts coming up over the horizon, the deep blue sky turning pink and then white right before the blue lightens.

he tugs you closer by your hoodie pouch, hands curling into it as he guides you from your lawn chair to his, settling you onto his lap. it isn’t too much. it isn’t an attempt to seduce you or entice you or anything. he just tucks his hands into your pocket and when yours join them in there, you lace your fingers with his as you straddle him, and he doesn’t let you move close, instead keeping the distance between you even as you let him kiss you over and over, everywhere he can reach.

“it’s—weird?” he asked you.

“no,” you say. “is it?”

“maybe,” he answers, and you laugh together, silencing him with a kiss because your parents’ bedroom window is open and they have no idea you’re outside, much less outside with a boy.

“we stayed up all night,” you tell him, unnecessarily.

“duty called,” steve says.

“i’m your duty now?” you ask.

but he only smiles, to himself, you think. “something like that.”

ຣ bnd!steve waiting on his back deck until he sees your curtains flick to the side, your face peeking out of the darkness down at him. you wave, he waves, and then he disappears through the sliding glass door. what he doesn’t expect, what you didn’t make a conscious decision to even do, is when he looks out his window at yours, you’re still standing there, peeking around the the jamb with your curtains pulled open for the first time in months. and even though he’s startled at your presence, you share a secret little smile before you both turn in for the night. well, morning.

because he’s been your boy forever, but never really your boy.

until now.

&&

the day gator laid eyes on you he was captivated.

the way all your dresses covered and clung to the right places, leaving just enough to his imagination.

the way you were so devoted to the church, always on first in for sunday service and last to leave.

the stupid, yet oh so gorgeous, gold cross you wore around your neck on a dainty gold chain.

the pure fact that you were younger than him, and a virgin.

he hadn't thought about whether a girl being a virgin or not was important before.

but on you, it just made you so much more desirable.

it was a slow process, but that just made it all more enjoyable for gator.

it started with just watching, plotting, scheming. how he'd approach you, if you knew his reputation, if you'd be interested even deep down.

once he'd conquered talking to you casually he laid on the flirting. thick.

you couldn't help but feel enjoyment at his attention. never having experienced this before.

you were giddy, secretly of course. your whole family would be mortified if they knew you were talking to gator tillman.

but you couldn't help but look for him at church every week.

once he began to find you outside of church you knew you were gone. and so was he.

other girls he would have given up if he didn't get immediate attention back straight away. but you? he'd convinced himself you'd be worth the wait.

and you were proving to be.

a month of borderline stalking from gator, he'd gotten you on a date. he knew to take it slow, not scare you off. not until he'd gotten his full fix anyway.

he put on a heavy gentleman act, and you fell for it. hard.

three more dates and you'd let him kiss you in his car. just one kiss, no tongue. but it was enough of a taste to get gator addicted.

you'd confirmed to him, between these three dates, you were a virgin. completely inexperienced and innocent.

the moment you said it, gator was sporting a semi the rest of the night. going home to take care of himself to the thought of ruining you.

god what he would do to ruin you.

what he didn't know is that he already was.

you found yourself thinking about him, in more than just a casual way.

touching yourself to the thought of him under the cover of darkness. holding onto the cross of your necklace as if it reversed what you were thinking.

guilt washing over you straight after in a post-clarity way. jumping up to pray for forgiveness, just to get distracted by gator and do it all again the next day.

the night he'd gotten you back home to his he could have accepted an award.

and when your kiss finally turned into a proper make out, gator was ready to devote his whole life to you.

he was keeping up on the dates months later and even moved seats at church to be next to you.

you carried the guilt of engaging with a boy like him everyday, especially sundays, but when you met his eyes all your guilt subsided.

the next time you were at his house, making out on his lap as a new usual, it went further.

and it almost sent gator to heaven, or in your eyes- hell.

you were sat at an angle that made you extremely sensitive between your legs. you weren't a stranger to this feeling, but you had never been so sensitive actually in front of gator yet.

you were lost in the feeling of him, so much you didn't even notice you'd began rocking your hips over gators.

the friction of his jeans was catching your clothed core perfectly. too perfectly.

before you could stop it, a high pitched, desperate, whine left your mouth.

gator almost choked, your sound going straight to his half hard cock, now fully hard.

he kept kissing you, hands on your hips forcing more movement to try and pry another noise out of you.

your mind was clouded, only thoughts being gatorgatorgator.

another whine, louder, more distinct.

"gator"

yeah he was definitely in heaven.

"that feel good babygirl? huh?"

you nodded, hands firm on his shoulders as you sped up, closing your eyes.

"tell me baby use your words"

you opened your eyes looking at gator, he looked almost as ruined as you, if not more.

"so good gator" you breathed out.

"fuuuck- yeah keep going just like that baby"

he guided your hips, lifting his knees slightly to angle you better on him.

"gator"

"huh? what is it? talk to me princess"

you let out a load moan as your head fell onto gators shoulder, thighs tightening around his hips, nails digging into his arms.

"gonna cum? gonna cum for me baby? make a mess of your pretty panties?"

"yeahyeahyeah pleasepleasepleaseeee"

he let go of one hip, taking your jaw in his hand, forcing you to look at him. his eyes were dark with hunger, less gentlemanly, but had a glimmer of devotion.

"cum baby"

you came undone above him, white hot pleasure ran though your veins. your cheeks were flushed, a thin sheen of sweat forming on your forehead.

"yeahh good girl"

he kept your hips moving even as they were stuttering, forcing you to ride out your orgasm and bring you to overstimulation.

you collapsed against his chest, breathing heavily. hand tight on your necklace.

you could feel the wet patch from your release sticking to your core. it had spread to gators jeans, just over the bulge that felt wetter than you'd expected.

but you were too out of it to really notice what happened; gator had came in his pants.

as he kissed your head and praised you, your chest tightened. not in guilt for what you'd done. but guilt for how much you enjoyed it.

and how much you wanted more.

that didn't stop you from going home and praying for forgiveness... then touching yourself five minutes later and praying all over again.

that night gator came twice more, just thinking about you. how he'd gotten you to dryhump him into cumming.

“Mmh—shit, Steve!” You moaned, pulling him back in every time an inch of his cock would leave you.

He wasn’t in a rush, he enjoyed having you shaking and weeping underneath him as he rocked his hips in the slowest rhythm possible. But the only thing that was going through his head was making you take every drop of his cum, until his balls were empty and he could plant his seed inside of you.

“You’re gonna take alll my cum, I know that pussy wants it so bad.” Steve couldn’t help but increase his pace, the thought of getting you pregnant was already ruining him.

“Need’a make sure it sticks, so you get all big ‘n round for me. Mmm, you’re gonna look so beautiful, pretty baby—all full of my cum and my baby.” He didn’t stop, and you pulled at his biceps to get him even closer to you.

“Yes, yes—please Steve, want it so bad! Your cum, your baby, everything—f-fuck!”

Your words of agreement were enough to send him over the edge, one more thrust and he was already cumming inside you as he promised. Groaning at the feeling of you squeezing for more, milking him.

“Fuck—fuck! Gotta—make sure you take it all,” Steve refused slow down, his deep thrusts never ending as he brought you to your own release, not letting up until you were quivering and pushing him away at the overstimulation.

“You’re gonna be such a pretty mama, oh yeah you are.” He panted, entranced by the sight of you leaking his cum, unable to keep it all inside.

He pressed kiss after kiss against your forehead, stroking your head lightly as he brought his hand down to run his fingers through your folds, stuffing the creamy liquid back in your hole.

The brains part of the operation had never been your forte—like Steve, you were firmly affixed onto the brawn side of things. Tell you what to do, you did it, no question. And normally, it wasn’t that hard to follow the discussions, to interject with a suggestion to make the logistics of whoever’s plan flow smoother—that was what you had a head for, carrying out the plans. Making the plans work.

But currently all you could think of was the way your boyfriend had looked when he’d appeared in that…sweater, if it could even be called that. Because to you it looked more like he was a wool-wrapped wet dream, his hair tousled just so, broad shoulders draped in that knit fabric, and it was just doing something to you. Made all the more unbearable by Robin’s completely accurate observation. That was a secret you’d told her in confidence, and now she was just whipping it out (…bad word choice), telling everyone, and making you think things. Oh, her smug little grin. She’d be so tickled to know she’d gotten you all worked up with her coy little “Don’tcha Steve?”

And then, even as you were imagining the hem of that sweater tickling your nose while you gave Steve head and he went in anyway—he came up with the idea. The idea. The one that earned even Dustin’s seal of approval.

It was a given now: Sweater + Saving the day = You needed that man biblically.

“Hi,” you said, glomming onto Steve’s arm as the group broke, heading off in ten different directions to begin preparations for later on. “How goes it?” You pressed your front against him, hand coiling around his forearm.

“H-Hey,” he said, not having expected the sudden fullbody contact. He laughed a little. “Babe, it’s going terribly. You know this.”

You slid your hand down to his, lacing your fingers together. “Think we can escape for a few minutes?”

He looked down at you, meeting your eyes. Misunderstood your demeanor. “If this is about what Robin said, don’t worry about it. Everyone will forget about that…we have more important things to worry about.”

And there was strike fucking three. This man—this man—cared so much about you and your concerns that he assumed you were embarrassed by what Robin had said and wanted to put you at ease. He always put you first, and that was sexy as hell, too.

No bones about it, you needed him now.

Well, maybe one bone.

“No, that’s—” You laughed, waving your free hand as if to dismiss the words, the very thought. “That’s fine. She did…kind of get me thinking though.” You glanced around the two of you—the room had emptied out. so you wouldn’t be overheard, but you lowered your voice anyway, dropping down your pitch and volume, tone dusky and low. “About you.”

Steve took in the way your eyes had darkened, the way you were still clinging to him, his arm pressed firmly all down your body; experimentally, he flexed his fingers toward you, grazing against your jeans zipper, pressing it just a touch against you—you sighed, heavy and a little bit wanton, and he considered you now, understanding what you were after.

“Seriously? Now? The world is about to end, maybe.” You could tell by his tone, he wasn’t exactly putting up much of an argument, and he was still pressing his knuckles against the seam of your jeans, giving you some pressure to rub against.

“Yeah, exactly,” you said, rising up on your tiptoes—regrettably away from the sweet friction of his hand, but closer to the promised land of his lips. “This could be our last chance.” You tipped your chin and let your mouth move against his, not quite a kiss, but just enough to entice him.

“You’re such a troublemaker,” Steve said, turning more to face you now, his arm twisting in your grip; he palmed you fully through your jeans, his nose brushing yours as he kissed you, soft and barely there. “Meet me in the—in the bathroom,” he suggested, the one door in the radio studio with a lock. “Five minutes.”

“Do you need that long?” you asked as he stepped away from you; you let him, but kept hold of his hand.

Steve squeezed your fingers a little, moving back toward you, cupping your cheek with his hand. “I won’t keep you waiting,” he said, hazel eyes shining, a smirk on his lips. “Five minutes is no time.”

He stepped away for real, heading out of the room, while you made your way to the bathroom. It was unoccupied when you knocked on the heavy door, so you slipped inside and leaned against the sink, waiting for Steve to come find you.

You lowered one hand to your thigh, splaying your fingers out on your jeans as you closed your eyes, imagining him in that sweater. You couldn’t recall if it was new or if it was just the context of him wearing it today, when everyone was already running at maximum, that was getting you so worked up.

The door clanged open suddenly, and Steve chuckled. “Wow. Imagine if someone else had come in.”

Shocked out of your reverie, you realized that your hand had taken the same position Steve’s had been in before, slowly massaging yourself through your jeans, middle finger flat on the seam and pressing it against your clothed slit.

“After Robin’s comment, anyone would understand,” you quipped, and Steve only let the door swing shut behind him, his hand finding the knob and locking it.

He stepped closer, engulfing you in his presence—all you could see was him; you smelled his cologne; you heard his breaths, growing thinner just like yours were; you could feel his hips pressing against yours, trapping your hand between you. So you doubled down, curling your fingers against yourself a little harder, sighing softly, your breath on his neck.

“I knew what she said got to you,” Steve muttered, hooking a finger beneath your chin to tilt your head back enough that he could bring his lips to yours. He didn’t hesitate to kiss you deeply right away, licking into your mouth and you let him in, moaning as you kept your fingers working against yourself—even with your underwear in the way, the hard press of the denim seam felt incredible against your clit.

“It wasn’t just that,” you panted, breaking the kiss.

“Oh, no?” Steve asked, his fingers trailing down your arm between your bodies, stepping back to watch you rub at yourself. “Then what else?”

He lowered his hands to the hem of his sweater, lifting it just enough that you could see a strip of skin exposed above his jeans. You surged forward off the sink, hands moving to his wrists, and firmly tugged them back down.

“Sweater stays on,” you instructed, and he looked at you, eyebrows raised.

“Babe—what?” he said, amused, trying to pull his arms from your hold, but you didn’t budge. Steve had long ago learned to accept your little peculiarities, and if this was one of them, he’d take it. Your response proved that was probably the case.

“Sweater. Stays. On,” you repeated.

He quirked an eyebrow, but only smirked. He knew he looked good—of course he did—but now you could see his wheels turning as this sweater inextricably became linked with you being turned on. You were making your bed here, one that meant you’d have to lie in it every time he pulled this sweater out to wear it—but you’d be lying in it with Steve, and that was completely fucking fine with you.

“If I’d’a known you’d like it this much, I’d’ve worn it sooner,” Steve said, smoothing the sweater back down over his front, but you weren’t even looking at him—your eyes were roving over his chest, the way the fabric clung to his shoulders but hung a little loosely everywhere else. He laughed. “I’m feeling a little objectified.”

“Good,” you nearly growled, and Steve laughed again, stepping toward you. You took him in easily, kissing him again as he lowered his hands a second time, but now was tugging up your top, a thermal Henley that he was somewhat certain you’d stolen from his dresser, but was absolutely certain looked better on you anyway. He gathered the fabric in both hands, then lifted the shirt up and over your head, dropping it onto the small table where extra paper products for the bathroom were kept next to the sink. You were leaning back on the sink still, hips flexed against his, and he brought his hands to cup your breasts even still clad in your bra as they were. Your lips met again in a kiss, fiery, your arms moving to his sides and curling into fists in his sweater.

He chuckled against your mouth, arms slipping behind you to unclasp your bra, dropping that on top of your shirt before holding you against him. You whined softly at the rough fabric of the sweater on your sensitive nipples, but just arched yourself into him, wanting to feel more, wanting to feel him.

Steve bowed his back, drawing a whine from you as he moved away, but then he was cupping your tits, pushing them together as he lowered his face to them, mouth moving softly over them as he kissed, licked, nipped anywhere he could, his tongue pressing flat against your nipple, licking up and over it, before sucking it into his mouth. You arched your back again and he sucked harder, teasing the hardened bud with his tongue while he did.

“Steve—” you cried out, trying and mostly succeeding to keep your voice down. His only response was to switch to the other one, this time licking it repeatedly, flicking the tip of his tongue over it a few times before using his thumb, swirling over it in circles, feeling it harden at his touch.

Your hand snuck back between your legs, cupping yourself and massaging your mound through your jeans, needing more but not wanting to stop him from sucking at your tits, because you knew he loved it just as much as you did.

He hummed quietly into your chest, mouth closed around one nipple, sucking it fully between his lips while he held the other between his fore- and middle fingers, gently pinching and tugging it, wanting to hear the soft mewls you made as he played with your tits. And you let him, whimpering out his name, sighing, moaning softly; his hips bucked forward into nothing, humping fucking thin air because now, now he was turned on too and he owed it all to a goddamn sweater.

“Steve, I need m-more,” you managed, your free hand threading through his hair to ease him away from your chest. His mouth slipped off your nipple, his lips and your skin wet with spit, but he let you move him back. Always thinking of you, he reached down to cover the hand between your legs with his own, but you pushed it away.

“No,” you said, and concern clouded his face before you gripped his hips, turned the pair of you, and pushed his ass against the sink. “Like this.”

He watched as you lowered yourself to your knees in front of him, raising his eyes to the ceiling for a split second to not get completely overwhelmed watching you, and by the time his eyes had focused on you again, you’d undone his button and fly and had his cock out, the sweater bunched up at the base, falling around either side of his semi where it arched out just a little from his body.

“Fuck,” you mumbled—but Steve caught it, and his chest clenched. Something about you totally fucking ruined by him, just the sight of him—he was fucking overcome by a deluge of affection for you. Just you. He smiled fondly down at you, but his soft affection wasn’t even on your radar—his hard cock was.

You reached both hands up, one bunching up the sweater into your fist, the other circling the ring of your fingers around the base of his cock. You parted your lips and took him in with no hesitation—as thick as he was, this wasn’t new to you and you were used to the stretch. You exhaled through your nose, taking a long breath back in before sliding down further, taking him in as deep as you could.

The part of his length that you couldn’t, you twisted your hand around, stroking shallowly, almost like you were jerking him off into your mouth.

Steve sighed above you, “That’s right, just like…that.” You looked up at him as best you could through your eyelashes, and his face was trained on you, watching as you bobbed your head a little, mouth moving up and down on him, the stretch and slide eased by your saliva, wetting his skin. As you pulled off, you let your hand spread your spit down over him fully, wetting his whole cock, and he groaned as you did, the feel of it combined with the sound of you sucking his dick, fingers slicking over him where your mouth couldn’t reach—your hand tugging at his damn sweater every time the head neared the back of your throat—

You moaned around his cock, then let go of the fistful of fabric you’d taken. Steve couldn’t quite see past where you had him in your mouth, but he could hear you unzip your jeans, and he could feel you tighten your grip on his length. His hands moved to grip the sink, knowing what you were doing and needing to brace himself, because holy shit.

Below you both, between your legs, you’d slipped your hand down into your pants and were touching yourself—touching yourself while you blew him. You were soaked. Your slick folds parted easily and you bypassed your clit to curl two fingers into yourself; you knew if you went for your throbbing clit, you’d come too soon since you were already most of the way there, so keyed up from the thoughts that that comment and this sweater had gotten you thinking.

“Touch—Touching yourself?” Steve asked, even though he knew. He could hear the slick sounds from between your legs, even muffed by your jeans still being mostly in the way, and he could see your arm moving in his periphery, the repetitive, rhythmic motions of you fingering your own pussy.

“Mmn,” you managed, barely, around his cock.

“Good girl,” he said, and you closed your eyes, preening at the praise. That wasn’t new—he said it to you often, normally when you were taking his cock, but it still brought a burst of fire to your chest to match the one burning between your legs.

You slid further down onto his length, tongue laving at the underside, trying to coax him further along. He flexed his hips, not fucking your face, but rolling into your hot, wet, perfect mouth, easing in, holding there, and then pulling out quick. You matched your fingers to his movements, fucking into your own slit nice and slow, curling them forward a bit, then moving them out in one quick motion. Your fucking hand was coated in your arousal, and finally you couldn’t take it anymore.

You pulled off of his cock most of the way, cradling the head on your tongue, lips still around him, and moved your hand over his shaft quick, actually jerking him off into your mouth now.

Steve’s stomach clenched, the new sensation the change he needed to get off; below you, you had started rubbing your clit, almost too wet to get enough friction but you were managing just fine. With a groan, trying to keep your mouth closed around your boyfriend’s cock, you came, sinking down a bit as your legs spread further so you could rub your whole palm over your pulsing clit, your underwear beyond saving, the backs of your fingers even dripping at this point.

Above you, Steve watched as you came undone, the sight of you and the sounds you were making pushing him over the edge too—he released into your mouth, his load flooding onto your tongue and you swallowed it instinctually, your mind so overcome with pleasure that all you could do was react, drinking him down with each shot that hit the back of your throat. You took a deep breath and sank further onto his length, your wet hand moving up to grip his thigh, fingers slipping over his skin as you tried to get a hold on him, swallowing around his twitching cock as he gave you one final, weak spurt, and then he was cradling your cheek in his palm again and easing his spent dick from between your lips.

You looked up at him with heavy-lidded eyes, both of you panting a little just with the force of it. He met your eyes and neither of you moved for a long moment, and then you were up on your feet again, your jeans half around your thighs, his around his knees, kissing him fiercely, needing him close, still, hands threading through each other’s hair, touching everywhere and anywhere you could, crazy for each other—it was always like this with him, had been since you’d hooked up for the first time in high school, like you physically couldn’t sate yourself until you were both boneless and trying to sink into each other.

He curled a hand around the nape of your neck and kissed you hard, harder, his chubbed-up cock pressing against your hip.

“Need you to fuck me, Steve,” you managed to say between kisses. “Need it, fuck, I’m so horny—”

“Still?” he asked, teasing just a little, even as he wrapped a hand around his cock, stroking himself.

“Fuck you,” you breathed, grinning as he kissed you again, your hands coming up to frame his face before dropping to his shoulders to grip the sweater.

“You sure are tying,” Steve said, smirking at you. “Turn around.”

You did, leaning over the sink, and Steve eyed the curve of your ass before reaching down to pluck the condom he’d gotten before during your five-minute sweater inspired dream sequence. He lifted it to his mouth, holding it between his lips for just a moment as he lowered his hands to your bare back, palms running down your soft skin before curling his hands into the waistband of your jeans and panties and tugging them down, exposing you fully to him.

You caught his reflection in the mirror above the sink, looking as enamored of you as he had since day one, and you tucked your chin against your shoulder, smiling a little—you were so lucky.

Steve smoothed his hands over your ass, leaning back a little to look straight at your core, spreading you open a bit so he could see how wet you still were, your arousal still visible.

“Steve,” you said, reminding him you weren’t just there for him to look at—though the way he was staring made your pussy clench down, feeling desired, feeling like he needed you as much as you needed him.

“Mm,” he hummed, reaching up to take the condom from his mouth and tearing the wrapper, rolling it on and tugging at the tip before he pressed the head right against your slit, nudging in just a little and drawing a groan from you. You may have been used to his size, but damn if it didn’t feel like your first time every time. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” you said, a little desperate. “Need you, I’m so—”

“I know, baby,” Steve said, hands on your hips. “Me too.”

He pressed against you, the head slowly, achingly, disappearing inside of you, his girth splitting you open into a delicious stretch that had you seeing stars almost immediately. He took his time—always did—filling you up after what felt like forever. He placed one hand on your lower back, rubbing you there softly as you bent over the sink. “Tell me when.”

You squeezed down on him, watching him in the mirror, how he unconsciously pressed into you—you felt him move inside you, the hem of the sweater brushing against your ass, and it thrilled you a little, that he was still wearing it just because you wanted him to.

He glanced up at the mirror, then did a double take when he saw you watching him; he met your eyes and a lascivious grin spread over your face, one he matched.

“That’s kinda,” he said, rolling his hips into you, watching your eyes flutter closed, the pleasure etched onto every feature, “kinda hot.”

“Go,” you said, pushing your ass back against him, pussy tight and hot around him.

Keeping his eyes on your face in the mirror, he pulled out just to fuck back in, snapping his hips into you, driving you against the edge of the sink in a way you could tell would probably bruise your thighs and be completely fucking worth it tomorrow—assuming you lived that long, of course.

He set a fast pace, fucking into you with quick, shallow thrusts, not bothering to pull out all the way, just keeping his cock deep in you as he thrust in and out. Your mouth was open, small whines and whimpers falling from between your lips each time his hips met yours, thighs slapping together, your hands slipping on the porcelain of the sink every time he moved back into you with particular force—he was so goddamn irresistible, his cock stretching your cunt so good, hitting every inch inside of you.

“So—Steve,” you moaned, “so fucking de—” Your voice broke. “I can feel—you—”

He snaked an arm around your waist, your hands scrabbling for purchase on the sink, his wrist trapped between the hard ridge of it and your front, as he felt blindly for your clit. Your voice rose in pitch the closer he got, each soft “Uh huh,” “Uh huh,” “Uh huh” growing more urgent until finally you melted back into him, his middle finger skimming over the swollen tip of your clit. Your body shuddered, weakening, and he slid his hand from your back to hold you around your middle, arm looped beneath you to hold you up as he continued pistoning his hips into you, holding you up and against him a little, changing the angle. Your whole body spasmed at the feeling of him hitting an entirely new place inside of you, arousal gushing around his cock and up over his fingers as he added a second and then a third to your clit, massaging it with slow, deep circles designed to have you coming hard and fast.

“Steve—” you squealed, your back nearly flush against his front, the rough material of the sweater scratching your back; you were practically sitting on his cock as he held you, jerking his hips up into you, your body nearly on full display in the mirror even though you were still pitched forward toward the sink.

“Wanna come?” he asked you, not near enough to your ear to whisper, his voice rich, deep, hitting you in your core just as he fucked up into you, your legs spread as wide as they could be.

“Yes,” you babbled, not really even fully sure what he asked you, but needing to agree so he would give it to you. “Yes, yes, yes, yes—”

Flexing his wrist, he circled your clit even faster, pressing harder against it, feeling how swollen it was at his ministrations, how wet you were, your arousal dripping down the condom as he ground up into you.

“Come on,” he said, watching you in the mirror. You held his gaze, needing the anchor. “Come for me. Want to feel you, want to—”

His words were cut off by the sheer force at which your body tensed and then snapped, your cunt milking his own orgasm from him as he nearly dropped you against the sink; you caught yourself as he folded over you, hips moving into you with short little flicks, his cock pumping into the condom, filling it as he rode it out, his lips at your shoulder, pressing an open mouthed kiss there, his eyes still looking into yours over your shoulder in the mirror.

You were trembling in his arms, completely, utterly fucked out, watching as he nuzzled your shoulder from behind as he spoke before even thinking of moving away from you.

“You ok?” he asked, his body still draped against yours, the sweater (unfortunately, you now thought) keeping you from pressing back into his bare chest, wanting the comfort and warmth of his skin on yours.

“Yeah,” you sighed, the word barely more than a soft exhalation.

“Good,” Steve said against your shoulder, lifting his clean hand to cup your breast, thumb rubbing over your nipple just as a way to keep touching you, a gesture of affection. With the hand that had been between your legs, he reached toward the paper towel dispenser, pulling several out and crumpling them in his hand. “Get the sink for me, babe.”

With a shaky hand, you reached for the faucet, turning it so Steve could wet the paper towels. He waited for the water to warm, kissing the expanse of your back between your shoulder blades as he did, then with the moistened towels in his hand, lowered them between your legs.

Gently, slowly, making sure to go easy on you, he pulled out and began softly wiping you clean with the paper towels, your folds and your thighs; he did it without looking, without needing to, his nose pressed into the nape of your neck.

Once you were cleaned up, he took care of himself, tossing the condom and dirty paper towels into the garbage can in the corner, then tucked himself away into his briefs and jeans.

You were still hanging onto the sink, elbows locked to keep yourself upright, watching him in the mirror, shaking with aftershocks. Personally, you felt it was a miracle you were still upright.

“Need help?” he asked, moving back over to you, sliding your underwear and jeans back up your thighs in a way that was far too sensual for simply helping you dress yourself. You willed your knees not to weaken again, after you'd just felt stable on your feet again.

“Thanks,” you murmured as he handed you your bra, made sure your shirt (his shirt, definitely, now that he took a closer look at it) was right-side-out, then swooped it over your head for you.

You giggled, putting it on the rest of the way and then reaching out for his sweater, pulling it off.

“Hey, what—what're you doing?” he asked, but put up no resistance as you took it off of him. Once you had it in hand, he looked down at you, bemused.

You wrapped your arms around his shirtless torso, hugging him close, cheek on his chest.

“As good as you looked in that sweater,” you said, palms flat against his back, “I missed feeling you against me.” It was the kind of thing you could say to another guy and feel embarrassed or too sentimental, but with Steve, you knew he would understand.

And he did: His only response to that was to hug you tighter, hold you closer, give you a kiss on the top of your head. “After we save the world, I'll never wear that sweater again,” he joked.