you missed my heart🐈‍⬛

⋆˙⟡ sav, she/her, 21

⋆˙⟡ august leo ♌︎ , cat lover ⪩. .⪨, at harrys house ୨୧, taylors bff -`♡´-

⋆˙⟡ who i will write abt: Steve Harrington (Stranger Things), Joel Miller (The Last of Us), Gator Tillman (Fargo), Ellie Williams (The Last of Us), Spencer Reid (Criminal Minds) .ᐟˎˊ˗

⋆˙⟡ requests are open!!! or feel free to ask questions, send messages, whatever you'd like!! .𖥔 ݁ ˖

⋆˙⟡ masterlist!

⋆˙⟡ please do not copy, translate, or steal my work.. i don't do tag lists!

honestly shocked smut won by such a long shot 😦 like what happened to the art of overthinking something or trying your hardest to make things better ? having a fight and experiencing the satisfaction of it ending smoothly ?!? it might just be you and me anon <3 but i dooo understand those who want other things 🤗

maybe gator x religious reader get caught

caught

wc: 5.0k

summary: You and Gator just can't keep your hands to yourselves! Or three times you almost get caught and the one time you do...

cw: mentions of makeup, female anatomy, she/her pronouns, fem!r, cockwarming, blowjobs, semi-public sex, p in v, religious! r, getting caught, fingering f! receiving, gator being a boob guy (canon to me), unprotected sex, lmk if i missed anything

a/n: i apologize for how late this is i have been soooo busy! but now it's summer so expect more fics :) hopefully.. thank you for your request! <3

The first time you two almost get caught is early on a Sunday morning.

Despite the day starting out normal and slow, with you at your vanity putting makeup on while Gator hogs the bathroom gelling his hair back. Of course in the breaks of his routine his grabby hands are all over you. Walking towards the closet to change comes with a pause to turn your head towards him for a kiss, his warm hand half on your neck half on your jaw giving him full control. Not that he needs it, you’d do whatever he wants with ease anyway. 

Then it goes to brushing your teeth together, the free hand that's not holding the toothbrush wraps around your torso. Bringing you even closer to him, the gesture is sweet– pure in your eyes– so you lean into it. To Gator it’s a sign that you’re in the same needy boat he’s in. Has to be touching up on you in one way or another whether that's a hand in your back pocket, gripping onto your ass or simply holding your small hand in his large one. And in these jeans you have on it’s hard not to do the first one. 

But that's what your mornings have become and if you’re being honest no part of you is complaining. It’s nice to be needed so much, to know your presence is comforting enough for someone else. Even though Gator wouldn't describe it necessarily as comforting it’s definitely a nice word! 

Except when his touches continue even in the car ride to church you start to think about it a little differently. In your home, your safe space you share with Gator, it’s easy to be in that lovey dovey mood. Especially in the morning when he isn't grumpy or upset at the world just yet, a version of himself he saves only for you to see. So when his hand is high on your thigh and his truck is sending every vibration of the bumpy road to the spot between your legs it starts becoming a different story. 

You think Gator can see it too. Starting with the fact he can read you like the back of his hand or maybe that your thighs are clenched together and his hand squeezing your tightened thigh gives him a good sense of what you're feeling. And if he hadn't basically spent all morning feeling you up maybe this wouldn't have happened but it was all part of his sick plan. 

So that’s why when a little over an hour at church passes, the speaker has stepped off the stage, you and Gator leave early. Silently sneaking out so no one could notice or go out looking for you. There's about 20 more minutes till people would start heading out, standing around in the parking lot getting their last conversations in. Which means you two are on the clock. 

Although your boyfriend somewhat kept his hands to himself while being in public, his touches had a long lasting effect on you. Long enough that once you two got in the back of his truck you were pulling his belt off in record time. With Gator sitting on the seat and you on your knees in front of him it was a sight he wishes he could take a photo of. The sight of your desperate pleas and the needy look in your eyes. But unfortunately you don't have time for all that, not that you’d even let him take a picture of you doing something so awfully sinful. Leaving church of all places to do this, while still in the public parking lot. It really can’t get any worse.

Taking off his belt and pulling his jeans and boxers off doesn't take long at all, in fact you think you’ll make it outta here with time to spare. Gator is already hard, a bright pink tip leaking a pearly white substance that makes you practically have heart eyes. Between your kitten licks and soft praises like ‘so pretty Gates’ and ‘needed this’ you put your hands to work. Rubbing him up and down, seeing how his hips work with your hand, craving anything more than what you’re giving him. 

And he tells you that too. 

“Stop w’the teasin’. Know you want it just as bad mama, c'mon, put those pretty lips to use huh? Don't want us gettin caught.” 

The compliment plus the reminder of being in public slides right through your ears to your pussy. Making you do just as he asks because he’s right, you don't have time to be playing around with him, especially if you both need it just as bad. Starting with the tip, making your way down to the base while his whines flow above you. What your mouth can't cover your hands work overtime with. Bobbing with ferocity and precision, trying to get him there before anyone comes out. 

His hand cups the back of your neck before grabbing onto your hair. Pulling at it and pushing you down to go with the speed he wants while getting moans out of you. The vibration feels like heaven on his cock, and you can tell by the way he lets out a moan. 

“Such a bad girl, leavin’ church early to suck some cock like a needly lil thang huh? Imagine what they’d say if they walked out and saw ya like this. All teary eyed and touchin’ yourself with your mouth on me.” His words only spur you on. Making you suck harder, bob faster, touch yourself with more force.

 “Nuh uh, hands up. Good girls don't touch themselves.”

His reminders of what you’re doing to him make you feel the guilt even worse. There's a big part of him that likes that you have that guilt. Proves that although you’re loyal to God you’re more loyal to Gator. That nothing will come before him and what he wants, even if that's getting a blowjob by his girl in the church parking lot at 11am. 

When he opens his eyes back up to see your hands pressed together he thinks he might just cum right there and then. Due to the lack of help from your hands you take him even deeper, trying your best not to gag at his dick going down your throat while praying. What you’re thinking about Gator couldn't care less, what your mouth is doing to him is all that his brain can focus a thought on, and now what your hands are doing. 

“That’s it, fuck doll ya feel so fuckin’ good. Prayin’ we don’t get caught huh? Just the best mouth I swear.” 

Between the heat of your mouth, how easily he’s sliding in and out of it from the amount of spit you've shared with him, and the suction he is close. And if he bothered to look at the small electric clock on the screen up front he’d see that people could start walking out any minute now. Those who aren't waiting around to chit chat could easily see what you two are up to. 

That thought plus your pretty pink soft lips wrapped around him gets him there. A heavy hand keeps your mouth on him, taking his cum whether you wanted to or not, you’re stuck there. Only then do you finally let your praying position go, gripping on his thighs trying to remain stable from his force on you. Shutting your eyes tightly as you try to take every drop he’s letting out while he rides you out slowly. Now sensitive and feeling everything in a new heightened way. 

When you lift your head, whipping your mouth with the back of your hand, only then do you see a group of people coming out of the church. Busy talking to each other sure but at the same time looking around the lot, looking for their car or just for other people around. Gator gets himself situated while you swiftly make your way back up to the passenger seat, trying to come off as if you were never in the back to begin with. 

On the ride home Gator is on a high and you try talking yourself off a ledge of what you just did. 

The second time you two almost got caught was a little less quick. Not so much stressed for time as you were trying your very best to stay still. 

With Gator sitting on a white plastic chair, a calloused hand on the small of your back, and you standing next to him it was a nice time. Roy and Karen had invited you to a brunch with the family, a nice gesture that you didn't really have an option of passing on. 

Gator had been in a mood the whole day. Annoyed he had to be here in the heat watching them play family. Something he never got as a kid, his dad never bothering to try. You tried to pick up on his slack, offering bright smiles and helping Karen in the kitchen. Basically playing family with them to let Gator off the hook for not joining along. 

Right now Roy is using the grill to make food while Karen plays with the kids, helping them blow bubbles with the new toys they got. You and Gator stay off to the side, somewhat out of the way of eyesight. Staying near the table that has silverware laid out with glasses of champagne. Neither of you messed with any of it, Gator got himself a beer so even he didn't need to bother with it.

“C’mere mama. Sit down.” He gestures, patting his lap. 

The way he says it sounds like he’s not asking but the way he’s looking at you is soft and sweet. Like he’s letting you know his bad mood isn't towards you. Following his words is easy, there won't be a day you wouldn't want to have a cuddle session with your boyfriend. 

Except with just a few small circles of your hips to get comfortable you can feel something underneath your thighs. 

“Gates.” Unlike him your tone is sweet despite trying to come off stern. 

And as a result of it he bites your ear lobe. Not taking your warning seriously in any way shape or form. Instead grabbing a hold of your hips to push you down further onto him. He doesn't even bother trying to hide the groan that comes out of him while his head falls to your shoulder. Hands gripping your hips so tightly you’re sure it’ll leave tiny bruises. All because of his own actions. 

“Keep movin’ doll.” 

“Gator! We are with your family.” His head is still in the crook of your shoulder and neck, biting you slightly to try and stop a moan from coming out past his lips. 

“They ain’t even watchin. Plus y’know what this dress does t’me.” He says, pressing small kisses along your neck. 

Your dress is quite long and has a layer of fabric underneath giving it some form of fluff, not exactly sticking to your skin. Between his words, kisses, and hands still stuck to your hips it’s hard to say no to him. Giving one last look to your surroundings, making sure his family isn't anywhere near you. In this moment you’re grateful for the big plot of land, the fence going far out. 

Once you feel you’re in the clear you pull your dress out from under you. No longer completely sitting on it but instead letting it flutter around you. Basically giving Gator access to everything under the flowy fabric, allowing it to be completely hidden. 

In your own ears you can hear him unzip his pants, pulling his underwear down a bit which in turn makes you shuffle around him, giving his boner another bold stroke of movement. Trying your best to stay quiet while he pushes your panties to the side, sliding two fingers between your folds, getting covered in all your juices. 

“Fuck sake doll, this soaked for me and ya just sat down.” 

He’s not even trying to be quiet and it’s getting to you already. Letting his head fall back with closed eyes while he bites his lip. “Get it over with Gator.” You say through clenched teeth. 

“Whacha sayin’ baby? Y’don’t want this big cock fillin’ your tight lil pussy up?” He muffles into your shoulder as he slides two fingers into you. “Cause she’s tellin’ me a bit of a different story. Squeezin’ me so tight, might not even fully fit in ‘er.” 

Now your hands are gripping his thighs just as tight as he was your hips. He’s speeding up his pace which is making it increasingly harder to remain quiet, or still for that matter. It’s also hard not to rut your hips towards his fingers, trying to chase the feeling he’s so close to giving you. 

“More Gates, please, need more.” Your voice is all whiny, no longer caring about the people around you but how good his fingers feel. 

“Say it.” 

You have to move your hand to clamp over your mouth, not trusting you won't let a moan out. Still mumbling through it. “What? Say what?” 

“You want this cock. That ya want me to give it t’ya.” 

He pulls your hand from your mouth, putting it behind your back as his hand works even faster, fingers in a ‘come here’ motion while his thumb rubs the most delicious circles on your clit. You’re close and he can tell, making it a really bad time to be taking away your hand. 

“Need y’cock Gator, wanna feel you make me full so bad.” 

“Atta girl, you’re so good. Gonna give ya just what ya want, okay?” 

His words mean more than just what you’re asking for. His speed gets faster on your clit making your legs shake and your hand clap back over your mouth. Hunching over a little from how hard the organism hit you. From the outside perspective it might just look like you’re a little too hot, overheating from the warm sun beating down on you. Which the heat certainly isn't helping but the feeling is much more extreme. 

Before you even have a second to come down Gator takes himself out of his pants, pulling you off his lap a little to get the angle just right before sliding right into you. Your juices and cum make it easy for him to fully fit himself within you. Groaning each time your pussy flutters around him, getting used to the length as it comes. 

Now you're biting on your lip and have your hands covering your face. Because now not only do you not trust your mouth but you don't trust your expression. Like how your eyes could roll to the back of your head at how good his dick feels or your face turning red. That one maybe could be blamed on the sun but unfortunately you doubt it. 

“Jesus fuck, you’re so warm an’tight. Don't even think I could pull out even if I wanted, grip is too good doll.” 

“Language Gator.” It’s funny honestly. He could talk all day about how good your pussy feels but the second he says the lord's name in vain you are quick to lecture him. You’re lucky you feel too good or he’s give you a quick rebuttal about how he doesn't give a fuck. 

You two are able to catch your breath for a second before you hear Roy’s voice. “Meat’s done, give it a minute to cool and we can eat.” He doesn't look at anyone while he says it, more so just speaking out loud to everyone. 

“We should get up?” You turn your face to him to catch his reaction but he just shakes his head. Letting it fall back on the comfortable spot of your shoulder. 

“Just gonna stand around waitin’, better to stay right here.” The way his voice sounds as he says it makes your pussy squeeze him even tighter. It’s gravelly like he’s spent himself, so caught up in what you two are doing and how it feels. 

You are about to agree with him until Karen starts making her way towards you two “Hey, can I get your help in the kitchen?” 

She’s asking you of course, Gator would never help her in the kitchen– his daddy would call him out for it just as quick as it takes for him to get in there. 

“Of course. Just gimme a second? The sun’s got me feeling a little dizzy.” You smile at her, trying your best to look normal. 

“Kay, just meet me in there when you can.” She sends you back a smile, a little more tight lipped than yours but goes inside before you could ask about it. But she's not the one with her man's dick in her so what does she have to smile about? 

“Dizzy from the sun huh?” Gator teases behind you. 

“Shut up. You’re lucky she didn't think anything different.” 

The two of you keep your lips shut as you pull yourself off of him. The emptiness hits you immediately, already missing the feeling of him inside you. His hand quickly sets your underwear back in place but it’s practically soaked through. Still the cool sensation gives you something else to feel besides the emptiness. That and what you just did, how much you’ll have to pray tonight about it. Maybe make something for the Tillmans as an apology they’ll never hear for the things they’ll never know about. 

The third time happens when you least expect it. 

Again on a Sunday morning right when you wake up, about to get up to get ready for church. Your brain is still in that foggy spot between sleep and alertness. But feeling Gator behind you, morning wood poking you from behind and his kisses over your neck and shoulder feels like you’re still in a dream. 

Maybe that’s why you allowed it. Thinking that you had the time to mess around in the first place and not being fully there. Mind stuck on how good he feels on you to think logistically or about your plans for this morning. 

That's how you and Gator became busy in bed. His body is hovering over yours, hand tangled with your own as he pounds into you. The whole room echoes the sounds of his skin hitting your own, sinking in and out of you at a relentless speed. Along with the moans that come out past your lips, unapologetically loud since you're in your own home. 

Nails scratching down his back with reverent, so stuck in your own bliss to even think if it hurts him. Thankfully it just makes him fuck you harder. Putting your leg over his shoulder to get an even deeper angle. Your hand clings to your cross necklace, holding onto any faith like with every thrust you feel yourself slipping. 

Because how could this feel so good yet not be allowed? Something that is the most human thing, the best way to express your love to the person you're going to marry. You’re not one to question the way things are done. The bible is set in stone for a reason, but there is a part of you that wonders if someone had what you and Gator have then maybe things would be different. 

Because you’re on a different planet right now. With your handsome boyfriend giving his all to you, messy hair and big puppy dog eyes you wouldn't want to be anywhere else. He’s giving you everything you could ask for, and if you ask he’d tell you he feels the same. In fact he’s incredibly close. 

With your sweet noises, clammy hand having purchase over the gold cross around your neck, and this pussy that has a vice grip on him how could he not be? Your boobs are moving with every pounce and it has him in a hypnotic state. Cant help but using his hand that's not holding him up to squeeze one, even leaning down to suck on it. Rolling your nipple between his teeth as you moan under him. It’s loud and obnoxious as if you can't hold it in. 

“Just brain dead on this dick huh? Lettin’ me ruin you with no complaints.” 

His words do a lot for you, mutters of how good you feel flow through the room. You on the other hand can't get a word out if you wanted. He’s not lying, you’re ruined, completely and utterly by him. You wouldn't let a single other person on this planet do what he’s doing to you. Sex before marriage or speaking the straight up nasty things he does. For anyone else it would completely ick you out, but with Gator it turns you on even more. 

Which is why you cum quickly. His cock hitting your g-spot with ease, hands knowing every pleasure pulse point on your body, and lips on yours mixing tongue and teeth. All of it’s messy and chaotic but complete heaven. You groan into his mouth and let half shaped moons stamp his biceps. Clawing at him for the life shattering organism he’s giving you. 

Gator’s even able to come right after you. Using your heightened senses to his advantage, the pain of your nails in his skin pushing him over the edge. It’s all a lot for the both of you. Gasping for air like the other person stole it, white knuckling the sheets for any sense of grounding, and that cross in your hand being put to work. 

Now you’re completely limp under him, voice somewhat gone, legs feeling similar to jello, collarbones shining with sweat, and lips a darker shade of pink from all the kissing– that and biting your lip from how good it felt. Your bed head looks a little better than Gators, you didn't have his hands grasping for life on your hair. Having showered last night it was your favourite version of him. Soft fluffy stands poking out in every way, gold highlights shining back at you from the sun that’s been up far longer than you two have. 

And despite his words and roughness from not even five minutes ago he’s already back to being gentle with you. Slowly sliding out of you, knowing you’re sensitive, using his shirt that was besides the bed to clean you up to the best of his abilities. 

That is until there’s a knock on the door. Loud and constant like it might not stop till the door is open. Although you aren't sure of who it is, Gator already knows. Hearing that knock many times throughout his life of living on the farm. He’s quick to put his pants back on and answer it, already tired of the annoying sound of a man trying to act tough. Soon enough you hear Roy's voice come through the house, clear and strong like he owns it. 

“Y’think it’s funny to just fuck ‘round and miss church?” 

“Wasn’t fuckin’ doin’ anything. M’girls sick.” He lies. After a lifetime of being taught how to lie Gators good at it, almost too good that he’s able to fool his dad in this moment. 

“What’s wrong w’her?” He might be a good liar but Roy raised him to do it, meaning he can't just blatantly go trusting his own son. 

“Got the flu or somethin’. All sweaty, can barely walk, throats hurtin’ so voice is gone.” Gator shrugs.

It’s actually impressive how he’s holding himself together right now. Because he’s not lying about that, you are all of those things. Is it the flu? No but the symptoms remain true. If it were anyone else he’d gloat, exaggerate it, but he really doesnt need his dad knowing that you lost track of time from getting fucked that you missed church. Or that you two are having sex at all. Needs to remain your little secret. 

“Mhm, well no need to come over this week then. Don’t need you getting that shit ‘round us, and fuckin’ everything up.” 

“I ain’t even sick.” It’s too easy to fight back with him. Maybe that’s Gators biggest issue but still he feels this intense need to always stick up for himself, not that his dad will believe what he says. 

When Gator hears the shower turn on his head turns like a dog hearing a toy squeak. As if you were saying hurry up and end this conversation and join me, which he wanted to probably more than you did. However it gives Roy a nice view of the side of his back. Bright red scratches run along his spine, majority on his shoulder blades. Skin becoming puffy from the inflammation and trauma to the area. Even though it barely hurt, only a little stung when it happened, he totally forgot that he was completely marked up. 

But when you do get caught it feels as humiliating and life ending as you think. You truly didn’t plan on fucking Gator in the evidence room. 

What you were originally at the station for was to give Gator lunch since he got to the station earlier than normal so you weren't up in time to pack it for him. And because you had to go there you thought bringing some cookies would be helpful too. A little something so they don't pick on your boyfriend for having his girlfriend bring him lunch. They were all officers afterall, full of men who thought the law did not apply to them.

So what was a kind and pure gesture somehow turned Gator on. 

The way you take such good care of him and others managed to do something to him. Starting with a small makeout session in the break room where you feel him up because he’s extremely sexy in his uniform. The tight black shirt showing off his muscles in the best way, pants showing his bulge front and center that he barely smooths over like he’s teasing himself. 

From the break room to his hand in yours leading you to the evidence room, what was some kisses became much more. Like pressing you against the evidence boxes, neatly sorted in rows that you really should not be around at all actually. Probably a crime in itself for you to be back here but let’s call it a perk of being the son of the sheriff. 

Bringing your dress up just to your waist, alert and aware of where he is even with the lust clouding his thoughts. Anyone could come in and see so to pull it down in seconds is necessary yet at the same time it’s killing him because your tits are his favorite. But he gets over it when he takes off your panties, getting right to it since he is on the clock after all. 

“No, no Gates. Need those back. Oh my–” You say it as he puts them in his back pocket. Definitely not willing to give them back to you so easily. 

The act turns you on even more. Just thinking of him using them later on shift, jacking off in the bathroom has you moaning, making Gator slap his hand over your mouth. One hand doing wonders to your pussy while the other silences your noises. Another loss for him but just like you he’s thriving in this situation. Knowing you two could get caught any moment making his dick throb in his cargos. 

Honestly you’re too loud to be doing this in public. His hand isn't doing great at muffling the noises and he is having a hard time not getting on his knees and devouring you entirely. Just a guy who's unable to do a quickie, always yearning for more of you. 

And before he fails to hold himself back the door swings open, illuminating the darker room you two are in. The tall full shelves help hide you enough for Gator to get off of you and to fix your dress but your slightly panting and his fingers are drenched. 

“Tillman, Roy needs you to go to a location.” He speaks out standing by the door, unsure where Gator is in the room.

“Alright.” Gator says, a little less loud since he knows he’s been found. 

But the officer doesn't move from the door. Too invested in the paper work in his hand, mind already in another place. Which then leads to you and Gator slipping past him. Your face bright red and feet not running as fast as you wish they would. He’s a little less ashamed than you, trying to also act normal like nothing happened. 

Then behind him he hears his co-worker speak up again. “Alright Tillman! Hey, you’re doing what we all wish we could.” He says giving Gator a small bump with his shoulder. 

And similarly to Roy the other day he isn't entirely sure what the officer is talking about. He looks around for you thinking maybe your dress was messed up or your hair was weird, something to show that his hands weren't kept to himself. 

That was until it hit him. 

His back pocket that held your underwear, slightly hanging out from how quickly he put it in. In a rush and thinking he’d have just a little more time and a few more brain cells to remember it before leaving the room. Yet he didn't, and he’d bet all his money that by the end of the day every cop in this station will know about it. 

bad day

wc: 2.5k

summary: Gators bad day comes home with him, but what happens when he lets it out on you?

cw: mean!gator, hurt/comfort, happy ending, fighting, silent treatment, crying, mention of long nails, soft!gator at the end, lmk if i missed anything!

a/n: thank you so much for the request!! i know it's a little similar from a recent fic i posted but i didn't wanna leave you hanging and wait for time to pass to put it out! religious!r x gator out next!! enjoy<333

You could tell by Gators texts he sent to you earlier that today's been a bad one for him. 

Apparently his dad humiliated him in front of the whole squad, calling him names and pushing him around. Which then became fair game for the rest of the guys to treat him like shit even ‘pretending’ to spill his burning coffee on his leg when he got away from his old mans torture. 

Once he was finally sent out for a call, some small job that normally he’d fight to ditch but with how the day was playing out he took it with a sigh. Turns out pulling over a guy who's practically blacked out drunk could lead to getting a punch in the face. Nice and heavy, full fist ready for Gator. To then go back to the station to get ridiculed even more, a punching bag physically and metaphorically. 

Safe to say Gator wishes today never happened. Wish that he could fight back, lay his hands on anyone near him. Gain back some type of control that was stripped away piece by piece throughout the long day. Anything would make him feel better than he did right now.

Which is where you are left now. Waiting patiently for your boyfriend to get home with his favorite meal in the oven. The second he said his day was bad you got started on it, knowing it wouldn't cure him but hopefully help. That’s kinda what you've learned within these past few months of dating Gator, you couldn't fix him completely despite your tried efforts, it was just helping him in whatever way he’d accept. 

The front door opened and closed loudly, letting you know his mood hadn't smoothed out any. Heavy footsteps made their way towards you as you tried to offer with the softest smile you could.

“Hey baby, i’m making dinner it’s got about 4 more minutes till it’s done-” 

“Jesus alright.” He mutters with a finger to his lips in a ‘shh’ pose. A small way to tell you to shut up. 

His focus is closed on the fridge that holds what he’s been thinking about all day, a cold beer. The start to forgetting this day happened and helping his mood change. But once he closed it his vision suddenly opened up. Taking in the kitchen, what you’re doing, and how messy it looks. 

“What’ve ya been doing all day, sittin’ around? Place looks like a fuckin pig sty. I tell you I have a bad day and you don't even bother tryin’ to help?” 

“What? No– no it’s just messy because I made you your favorite and I..” Your words somehow get lost in your own throat. A small ‘doing the dishes’ on the tip of your tongue. Because if his eyes were working at all he’d see you with the cleaning gloves, latex wrapping around each finger ready to wash dirty plates and silverware. 

“Man, you really are useless huh?” A scoff leaves his lips as he shakes his head. Like he can't believe what he’s witnessing. 

Really you feel the exact same. Because what about what he’s seeing makes you look useless? The dishes in the sink from you cooking for him or the dish soap in your hand getting ready to clean them, maybe it’s the food that was already in the oven– not held to the last minute. 

There were no words good enough in that moment to say back. A screaming match wouldn't help, trying to gently parent him certainly wouldn't help, all you can do is remain silent. Go back to the task at hand, try and pretend his eyes on you aren't the worst feeling ever. Act like he’s not even there. Regardless of his rude words that are still replaying in your head or ripping at your heart. 

The loud alarm that goes off to tell you dinner is ready is what snaps you out of your dissociative state. Bringing you back down to a place you wish you could run away from. Gators bad day now finding it’s way to spread to you, getting all over your home like some bacteria. 

You let him eat the food alone at the dining table. Finishing cleaning up the kitchen he threw a fit over before he has another. He doesn't object to it, eating in silence. When he finishes he brings the plate to you, gently sliding it into the sink as you keep your eyes on what you're washing. Knowing if you let yourself look up at him he’ll see the tears flooding your eyes, threatening to slide down your cheek.  

“Was real good doll.” He says off hand as he grabs another beer closing the fridge door softer than the front door. 

It was only once he left the kitchen that you let yourself break down. Slight sobs leaving your mouth as your hand rests on your chest, feeling your lungs breathe air in and out. You decide to leave his dish unwashed, a small grudge you can hold to feel like you could get back at him in some way. Then it’s your chance to eat, taking small bites as your lashes wetten from the thick tears. 

You can hear Gator snap the beer open and turn on the tv. Watching some sport you can't really make out. He turns it up almost like he knows what he’s doing. Drowning out your small plea to see he’s hurt you. The act only stirs you on more, leaving your plate there on the table before rushing to your shared room. 

Except you don't shut the door like he does, you don't let him know you're crying, he has no clue about your now bad night. A small part of you wants to trash what's his in retaliation, make some stance to show him you can't be talked to like that. Although you know it wouldn't lead anywhere good, nor would it help. If anything you’d die of guilt only after cleaning everything up. 

That’s when you decided on the silent treatment. 

Completely shutting yourself off to him, not giving into his actions or words. Certainly not trying to force him how he’s in the wrong. All you can hope is he uses the distance and silence to think about what he’s done. Your crying hasn't been so extreme that your eyes are unable to go back to normal. Maybe your eyes are a little red and bloodshot but not swollen, nothing else showing that you just had a quick breakdown because your boyfriend yelled at you. 

Simply going out into the living room where he was sitting and sitting at the far end of the couch. Creating physical space between you two. You let yourself get comfy, grabbing a blanket to drape over you with a book you’re almost done with in your hand. It’s a normal thing for you to do, late night reading. 

Sitting this far from Gator however, is not normal. And you can see his head turn slightly as you stay in your spot. Not bothering to get up and move towards him for cuddles. Which now that he’s calmed down a bit he could really use. Your soothing voice in his ear telling him he’s much better than what they did to him or having your long nails scratch his head that's been trapped under a hat all day. Even better getting an ice pack for the growing bruise on his face. He’s unsure of how it looks but since you didn't have a freak out seeing him he’ll take a guess that it’s not ER worthy. 

The book you're reading is placed perfectly to where you can't see Gator's face and he can't see yours. It feels unfair to him that he is given this distance after the day he’s had. And after he updated you on everything, you should understand how he's feeling. That’s why he shyly grabs at your ankle, using his thumb to rub at your skin. A little something to say ‘hey im right here’, which you’re so painfully aware of. 

Typically you’d swoon for this type of touch from him. Any touch that isn't asked for or a return of your first touch is a win in your book. But staying strong with your plan is more important than his half ass olive branch he’s trying to give you. So you pull your feet under the blanket, tucking the fabric under your legs so he couldn't touch them if he wanted. 

“Come cuddle.” His tone shows he’s telling not asking but it comes out terribly soft. 

Maybe it’s him asking and doing things he doesn't regularly do or it could be his tone but for some reason it breaks you completely. Lip wobbling and tears sliding down your temples to your ears from the position your laying. 

Seeing his head try and poke up above your book to get a look at you has your eyes widened, knowing you've been caught. Which in turn makes you shove your wet face between the pages trying to hide. Between the sniffles you let out you can feel him scoot closer to you. 

“Wait, are you cryin’?” His hands hold you by your knees and even give them a squeeze when you don't respond right away. “Cmere, lemme get ya.” He says pulling at the security blanket you were using, trying to get you out of the self made trap. 

The words are so sweet and the way he needs to hold you is even sweeter, it’s why you break. Letting him remove the blanket from you, grabbing your hips to bring you closer to him. Within seconds your arms are wrapped around his neck, letting the tears land on his skin while your legs cross around his torso. Fully sitting on his lap attached like a koala. 

His large hand rubs your back as he lets you cry it out. Never once telling you to stop or to calm down, just waiting for you to catch your breath and loosen your tight grip on his shirt. Your face is burning hot in his neck which doesn't help anyone cause he runs hot. You must be made for him because anyone else would push him away, searching for air instead of going without. 

So despite your lack of calming down he still tries to go for it. 

“I know I was an asshole, angel. I should've never said any of that nasty stuff to ya, ya deserve much better. ‘M real sorry, if I could take it back I promise I would.” A beat of silence passes as he waits for you to say something but you don't so he continues. “Shoulda never taken it out on ya, just let my day take over which isnt.. It ain't healthy and I know it. Gonna be better for you, swear.” 

Gator can physically feel your wet skin unstick from his neck, salt bonding you to him from how long you stayed in that position. This was the first time he truly saw you face to face since he got home and man does he wish he could do this day again. Not to have a better day at work but to handle his feelings differently that doesn't end with him looking at your red and blotchy face. 

Your whole body is hiccuping, trying so hard to swallow the sobs that you end up breathing deeper and deeper– making it hard to take a full steady breath. His thumbs try to brush away any tears but they only fall faster at the gentle motion. 

“Breathe baby, in and out I wanna see it.” He whispers doing a small version of it himself, guiding you to start. 

The frown on his face almost makes you feel even, he looks so distraught and scared. Regardless of your body clinging to him it looks like he knows this isn't some easy fix, that by the end of this he can't just take you to bed and kiss you goodnight. Although you listen to his words and copy him, trying to get a handle on your breaths and fanning yourself to get cooler. Gator pulls your shirt off from your sweaty back and fans it letting air hit you. 

It takes a bit but you manage to get a hold of yourself. Cooling down and being able to get out a stable sentence. He’s still fanning you but pressing small kisses to your forehead after you take a good deep breath. Your hands scratched at your face, trying to get rid of any leftover tears coming out from his words. This time they were quieter, any energy long gone. 

“‘M really sorry baby.” You feel a kiss from your forehead to your cheek. “I’m so so sorry.” Pressing another kiss to your cheek before moving to your other cheek. 

“You were s-so mean.” Maybe not as stable as you thought but it actually hurts Gator even more so for now it’s okay. 

“I was awful, you're right doll. I shouldn’t have done any o’that. Need to be better for you. ‘M not just saying it to say it either. Mean it, okay?” 

“How do I know that you won't do that again?”  

“You can trust me, know it don’t seem like it but ya can. Gonna prove it to ya.”

All you can do is nod, letting him know you’re hearing him out. Watching him as he lets a sigh out, tension in his shoulders slightly releasing. Showing you that this was a lot for him just as it was for you. 

“I’m sorry you had such a bad day.” Your hands are back on his shoulders, but this time softly rubbing at his knotted muscles. 

“I’m sorry that I took it out on you.” His lips graze a part of your arm that's closest to his face, laying kisses.

Taking his apology to heart you move your hands from his shoulder to his jaw, giving him a kiss that he reciprocates with ease. Probably the first thing all night that's come naturally to him. But he doesn't take it any further, leaving it at a kiss that in itself means he’s sorry. 

“How bad does your face hurt?” You gesture to his bruises that are coming in. They’re more so under his eye spreading to his nose than anything. 

“Hurting like a bitch.” A smile comes out as he says it, relieved to be back to somewhat a normal conversation. 

“I’ll get meds if you wanna get ice?” 

“Smart girl.” He gives you another quick kiss before helping you lift your legs from his sides. One leg moving off the couch as your hands use him to stay stable, getting your other leg out. You can feel the fuzzy feeling of them falling asleep but the quick walk to the bathroom to get meds should wake them up. 

r u up?

wc: 4.1k

summary: What started as something casual with Gator grows into something more meaningful, especially when he shows up at your doorstep after a difficult day.

cw: hurt/comfort, mentions of anxiety/panic attacks, f!reader, mention of wearing makeup, slight smut, beginning of oral sex (m!reciving), fwb, happier ending, gator hating the mention of mental health issues, if i missed anything lmk :)

a/n: hihihi!! thank you for the request!! ugh ik I need to wrap him up and hold him.. i hope you enjoy <3 also if you have sent a request im getting to it trust!!! finals r kicking my ass but ill get them out as quickly as i can!!

You and Gator were strictly friends with benefits. 

Like when his dad got on him too bad and he needed something to take his anger out on he’d always know who he could call. Or if you had another failed date, some guy who on paper seemed deemable but by the end of it would bore you to death. The whole ride home all you'd think about is how you could've used the better of an hour and a half with Gator pleasing you in every way possible. 

Surprisingly those two feelings happen more often than not. Both of you need to use each other in different ways. While you take on his anger with bruises on your hips he replenishes the hope you have of men in total, reminding you that not all men are incapable of making a girl feel good. 

And in between all of that you and Gator remain friends. Two people who can text if they are bored or can stop to say hi if you bump into each other at the bar, you out with your friends while he just got there after finishing a hard shift. 

Yeah it may end with you two in the same bed but those who don't go home with you wouldn't know anything besides the fact that you two can stand each other. That you’d actually breathe in Tillman's direction and he’d give you a smirk instead of a growl. 

In fact when people see it they typically try to warn you. Telling you that Gator is nothing but trouble just like his daddy. Maybe it's masochistic that your cheeks burn when you hear it. Like a challenge you have to face head on. As if the ‘do not date’ line is tempting you to cross it. Even though it's thick and bright red and could burn you if you get too close. 

Because they don't know the Gator you see when the lights are off and the moonlight is the only thing illuminating the room. After everything is said and done his strong demeanor is stripped down from a long day, it’s just you and him in a bed that could take him away if he wasn't so stubborn about hearing what you have to say. 

Still coming down from your high, of Gator giving you all he's got, and mind racing. Between talking about your day and somehow getting to a point that's more than just small talk but only things someone would say when it’s so dark you couldn't see the person next to you. That's when Gator opens up. 

Sometimes it’s about his dad or how awful his day was dealing with criminals. Other days it was how much he needed you that night. Not just for sex but to have a connection with someone on a different level than he would with some girl at the bar. Someone he can trust and rely on each and every time. 

Those nights you felt that strong red line crumble. Because how could you not when comforting him comes to you like second nature, like it was your main puropse– what you were brought onto the earth to do. 

But then morning comes and he’s gone. You’ll have a message from him saying something like ‘had work, see ya later.’ like what you two did wasn’t some break in your relationship. It’s enough to make you feel crazy sometimes, like you're in deeper than he is– even though you try and convince yourself you’re not even in that deep. 

And as the week repeats itself and the two of you find yourselves back at the bar and notice the girl who's pawing at him, trying to keep his attention. You’ll act like you don't care or didn't even see it in the first place. An act you’ve perfected, maybe the only thing that shakes Gator into thinking he doesn't have you tied as tight to him as he thinks he does. The main reason to how you live staying behind that ‘do not date’ line and don't risk getting burnt. 

This week was even starting out like every other week. You doing your own thing and Gator doing whatever his daddy forces him to do. Every few hours you’ll get a response from him to a previous message but nothing close to a back and forth continuing conversation. You’ve learned to live with it, deciding it’s a good barrier to have. 

But weirdly today was different. Gator was basically silent, no texts here and there throughout his busy day. The only thing you got earlier was a thumbs up to you saying you had a dream about him. It was strange but not impossible, certainly not something some fuck buddy needs to worry about, and yet you do. 

The rest of your day is spent glued to your phone. Ears perking up at every buzz for your shoulders to fall when you don't see his name pop up. This is the actions of some girl who is yearning for a guy's attention, honestly making you no different than the girl at the bar. Except you let yourself feel it because you know Gator. You know him like the back of your hand and this isn't normal for him. 

Double texting after hours have passed is too much, asking him if he’s okay is way too much, and anything that's not those two options seems too daunting. So you let nighttime come. Watch as the sun goes down and the moon comes up, because if you could count on a specific time Gator was gonna text you it’s at night. When his day is over and he needs you to make it better. 

Around 12:50am you can hear your phone vibrate against the wood of your side table. You’re half way asleep, tucked in under the covers but still waiting for your brain to fully shut off. It’s embarrassing how quick you are to turn to the device. Grabbing it like it would burn into a crisp if you were even a second late. 

Like clock work it’s Gator sending a ‘R u up?’ text. 

Most of the time this is how it normally goes. One of you will text late at night the simple words that all mean the same thing. Except it would be after multiple conversations you've had throughout the day. This message is basically the only knowledge you have of him being up. 

Barely a minute passes before you are able to get out of your mind and respond back a simple ‘yes’ to him. He reads it immediately but doesn't say anything back. Which leaves you stuck in your thoughts for a second time. 5 minutes pass and you begin to think he didn't mean anything of it, too worked up in whatever he was dealing with today to actually go through with your ritual. 

Because what you weren't was his girlfriend. Girlfriends check on their boyfriends, like calling them despite the lack of texts back, or even going to his house to see if he’s okay. Those are the things people in real healthy relationships do. But that's not you and Gator. 

You two haven't even put a label on what you’re doing now. Which if you took a moment to think about it was for a reason. Because it wasn't so black and white with you two, it was more than that but still somehow not enough. A push and pull that was entirely too addicting yet not stable enough to cement it to anything. 

Now begins the whole cycle of you trying to forget about Gators weird behavior and get sleep. The second time should be easier but it's only more frustrating. Like the added information of his stupid bland text is enough to make you start at square one to what his day was like to ignore you. 

That was until you heard a loud knock. So loud it could knock you out of your sleep if you did happen to somehow get shut eye. 

Between trying to sleep and being in the dark for the past hour turning on your hallway light to see where you were going had you scrunching up like some cat. Hissing at the brightness that makes you squeeze your eyes shut, too bright and too late to be dealing with any of this. 

Still you open the door all the same, seeing Gator with his hands on his hips like he was trying his very best to not pace around but stapling himself on your porch. 

“Were you sleepin’?” He asks. 

“Mmm no, just laying down.” But your hair is already a mess from all the moving around you did trying to find a comfortable position to suppress your thoughts; and your one squinted eye still not fully adjusted to the bright white porch light that's got a moth fluttering around it doesn't help.  

“Can I come in?” One hand leaves his hip to lightly point inside. Eyebrows raised like he needs you to get on his level as soon as possible. 

You step back to open your door wide so he can step in which he does the second you move. Quick to take off his boots, not even bothering to undo the laces but force them off with a foot on his heel. 

“What’re you doing here?” You mumble, not catching up with his movements as swiftly as he’s pulling them. 

“Did ya not read m’text?” His thick brows are back in the knitted state, a small frown on his lips to pair with it. 

“Yeah but you didn't respond to me.” 

“I know I was busy drivin’ here.” 

The way he says it, like its common sense, is almost your last straw. After a long day of being ignored and unable to ask why here he shows up like you owe him. Like you should be able to read between the silence and know exactly what he needs. 

Before you could even get a word out to ask about it his lips are on yours. 

Which is absolutely crazy because theres actually nothing about you right now that says ‘lets fuck’. Not your lack of makeup, or your arms crossed against your chest because you're freezing, and certainly not the stressed out look on your face. And yet you can't help but melt into his touch. Warmth from his big hands splayed across your cheeks and soft lips kissing his chapped ones. 

You let him in for a few seconds before patting his chest gently. A small pause for some answers to your many many questions. When he pulls away he looks almost as confused as you did before he kissed you. 

“What?” 

“Are we not gonna talk first?” Your hands are resting on his chest, practically sucking up the heat that's radiating off of him. You try your best to have it come out soft and not accusatory, again, you know this man. 

“Whadda mean? We never talk first.” Which he’s right about. On the nights he does send texts you get ready for it and pounce on him the second he shows up. It’s always after everything is over that he enters his hazy state, tired and vulnerable– easier to open up. 

“You’ve ignored me all day, now you wanna just come here and act like nothing's happened?” 

“Yeah, I do. Thats what this whole fuckin’ thing is. Me just showin’ up and you knowing what's gonna happen.” His eyes never leave yours as he speaks, as if he's making sure you can see he's dead serious about what he’s saying. “Now we gon’ fuck or should I go an’ find someone else?” 

You should kick him out. Tell him to find someone who will deal with him the way you do. Or yell at him and let him know every twitch your eyes have made today simply because he’s all you could think about. 

Instead what you do is the opposite. 

Pulling him in by the belt loops of his pants and smashing his lips against yours. Not letting him get away since you know he would go to some other girl if you did happen to turn him away. She wouldn't be anywhere near as good as you and he wouldn't leave feeling satisfied emotionally the way he does with you but his dick would get wet, which according to him is what he’s here for. 

At first he walks you into the wall behind you. Kissing your lips, feeling up on you, which in turn makes you moan, letting his tongue slip to fight against yours. You and Gator have done this enough times it feels like it’s ingrained in your brain.

First just making out against the wall till you both need air and he pulls you towards your room. Getting there is full of teeth against teeth and his hands untying your pajama bottoms and your hands unbuckling his belt. Neither of which get done fully before you reach your bed. Leaving you two to take matters into your own hands and fully pull your pants off and watch him do the same. 

Now you’re on your bed, knees digging into the mattress with just your shirt and underwear on. Gator has the same but he pushes his underwear down just enough that his dick is out. He’s half hard and rubbing himself to try and get further. By now he should be fully hard, he’s got a beautiful girl in front of him waiting to suck him off– he should be hard. 

Which is why he lets out a frustrated groan when jerking himself off. So irritated that this hasn't gone smoothly he pushes himself towards you. A silent ask for you to help him out, your hands always do more good than his anyways. 

In your head you think this has just gone too fast, that maybe you should’ve talked first but Gator is like a fucking machine it’s the only thing he can do all day any day. So for him to not be able to get fully hard is another stressor. 

Your hands are like velvet when you touch him, a slower pace than he was going yet feeling just as good– because it’s you. Then your mouth slowly sucks on his tip. A beautiful rosey color you have down, so much so you can see it perfectly even in the dark of the night. 

And when that does nothing for him you pull out a second try. Giving kisses down his half soft length and playing with his balls. Even going to suck on one once you reach the base of him. His hands are so tightly gripped in your hair you have a bit of a hard time moving. If the lights were on he would be able to see that he’s holding onto you so tightly his knuckles are white. 

Even with all of this he’s still made no progress. You’re even exaggerating your sounds and actions which he can tell but he appreciates the sentiment all the same. It’s only when he pulls you off with a small ‘fuck, I cant- jus’ get off.’ that you can see him slowly break. Putting himself back in his boxers before sitting next to you on your bed. 

He’s quick to run his hands through his hair multiple times as if it’s overstimulating him before putting his elbows on his knees, slightly bent over breathing heavily. Knee closest to you bouncing up and down so fast your bed is making a small creaking noise. 

When you put a hand on his shoulder, hoping to calm him down it only makes things worse. He jumps up like he’s wired on something and paces back and forth. A hand pressed against his chest feeling his heart that's beating what feels like 300 beats per minute. Soon enough the pacing is making him dizzy and he feels like he can't breathe. The shallow breathing is scaring you just as much as it’s scaring him. Deciding to sit down he chooses the floor, back pressed against the mattress and bed post. He’s sweating like he ran even though he just walked back and forth for a few seconds. 

You slide off the edge of the bed to land on your feet right beside him, carefully lowering to sit criss cross. When he doesn't pull away you gently reach your hand out to grab his. Letting him make the next move if he wants you anywhere near him or not. His breathing is still staggered and uneven, still in the throes of whatever is plaguing him. 

“It’s okay, Gate. It’ll go away soon, you’re okay. Take a deep breath in for me, yeah?” You give him an exaggerated example of your own deep breath for him to copy which he surprisingly does. 

Eyes stuck on your face and the movements you make. Anything to distract his mind. Breathing in and out with you, as the grip of his hand in yours tightens. Like you’re gonna leave him any second even though this is your house. The action is enough to tell you that he’s not gonna push you away either. 

“Fuck, m’heart it’s like- it’s so fast.” He mutters out. Taking his hand that's intertwined with yours to your heart. As if your hand could be the thing to slow it down. 

“I know it’s scary but you’re doing great I promise. Panic attacks do this.” You nod, trying to be as helpful as possible with someone who is known to pull away. Like scaring away a critter that’s not used to humans. 

You start tapping against his chest, trying to make a pattern for his brain to focus on, trying to understand and focus on what you're doing instead of his brain. It seems like he’s at the end of it, breathing coming back to normal as he stops shaking. 

It’s easy to state when he recognizes that he’s calming down. “M’fine, alright? Just tired, s’all.” His mood changes so quickly, removing your hand from his, trying to get up. 

Except he’s not back to normal just yet and whatever just happened to him felt awful. As he tries to stand up the exhaustion hits him like a truck causing him to sit back on your bed. An even worse feeling for someone who yearns to run out of your house and forget this ever happened. 

And of course he’s denying what it was. In his mind panic attacks happen to those who can't control their feelings, those who aren't strong enough to control whatever it is stressing them out. That’s not him, he can handle whatever is thrown at him, doesn't need to be dealing with this ‘mental health’ bullshit. You either deal with it or let it consume you and that's some pussy shit. His old man would never be caught dead doing what he just did, letting some girl who responds to his 1am texts calm him down. 

You’re still on the floor but on your knees peering up at him, letting your chin rest on his knee. “You shouldn't be getting so stressed out that you get panic attacks, Gator.” One hand is resting on his thigh while the other searches for his hand that he reluctantly gives. 

"What'd I just say? It ain’t a fuckin’ panic attack.” His words are harsh but his hand remains attached to yours, letting you continue to lay on him. 

You're practically all over him and he’s still not complaining about it. Whether it’s because deep down he knows your words are true or because he does need you physically grounding him you don't know, could be both things mixing within him making him even more frustrated. 

“What happened today?” 

“Nothin’ new. My old man bein’ an asshole and then havin to deal with stupid people at the station.” Now he’s playing with the rings on your fingers that are on his thigh. Another physical thing to distract himself with. 

“Maybe you’re getting burnt out, or could it just be a bunch of little things that became too much?” Really you’re trying your best here, doing anything to get a grasp of what caused this to happen. 

“Listen, I don't need you diagnosing me with all this bullshit. Just had a bad day, have ‘em all the time.” A sigh comes out of him, tired of this conversation already. 

“M’not trying to do anything but help you. Wanna make sure this doesn't happen again y’know?” 

“Yeah I know, ain’t man enough to deal with a bad day. I get it.” He rolls his eyes, assuming the worst in your words– judgement after seeing what you saw. 

“No, hey, that’s not what I meant.” You breathe out quickly, needing to make him aware that he’s got you all wrong. “I know it doesn't feel good to go through what you just did, m’just saying if you get your feelings out now you may not have to go through it again. Does that make sense?” 

All he does is nod in response and it has you feeling like maybe he’s actually letting your words sit with him, absorbing them and what they could mean. It isn't until he grabs your hands to help lift you back up on your feet that you get a hint of what he’s doing. Once you're up, he goes in for a hug while still sitting on the edge of the bed. His head rests perfectly on your chest while his arms wrap around your frame. Following his movements feels habitual, something you don't think about as you do it. Letting your own arms fall around his neck, even raking your fingers through his hair. 

“Can I stay here tonight?” He mumbles into your shirt. 

He’s never stayed the night before. Typically leaving once you two are done, or even taking a small cat nap and leaving in the middle of the night. You never wake up to him in the morning, knowing to expect him to be gone. 

“Of course.” You say in the softest tone. Only imagining how tiring this day has been for him. Starting with his dad drama, then trying his best to push through work, only to break in front of you. 

The two of you stay where you are just being present, not needing to really say anything but instead resting in the gentleness that you surround him with. The kind words you whisper in his ear or the way your soft hands rub his neck, trying to release any tension this day has brought upon him. All of it helps but he’d never outwardly say it, at least not right now. He’s already shown more than he’s like to. 

But soon enough he lifts his head up, loses his koala grip on you and makes a gap. Separating you from him and taking off his shirt. You get the hint right away, understanding him without needing to hear it. Gator makes his way under the covers while you walk around to your side of the bed. It’s even easy to find each other all over again. Legs coming together while your head lays in the crook of his neck, lightly on his shoulder. His head falls against yours and you can feel the kiss he presses to your hairline. Completely tangled together, unable to pull away– not that either of you want to. 

When you wake up in the morning he’s still there. Basically in the same spot he was when he fell asleep except his bed head is 10x worse and his features are more relaxed. You’re not sure you've ever seen him look peaceful like this. Not worried about anything and unaware of the stress the world pushes onto him. It’s a look you wish you saw more often. 

And when he wakes up you don't force him to talk about last night. Instead letting him choose breakfast, cooking it while he picks a tv show to watch, eating it together while you explain the dream you had. All normal like a little showing of what his life could be like if he allowed it for himself. Quitting the tough act and stop pushing you away to feel what a safe place could be like. What loving you and being with you could do for him. 

wc: 2.2k

summary: You end up moving something Gator needs, and when he trips because of it, you feel just as awful as he does.

cw: blind! gator, hurt/ comfort, fluff, description of bloody/bruised/swollen nose, gator tripping, gator being rude with r, happy ending, soft gator, mention of anxiety/ panic attack (small), lmk if i missed anything!

a/n: i know there was a request for more religious reader x gator but while i think of ideas for it here's some soft gator <3 feel free to send requests for it ;) enjoyyyy

You step out of your car a second after Gator does. Busy turning the car off and waiting for the garage door to fully open. You two had just gone to the store to get some groceries. 

Gators hand trails along the side of the car till he reaches the trunk and opens it up. Feeling around for the handles of the plastic bag that holds all your food. Which with his big hands and strong arms he’s able to get a good amount for the first round. You on the other hand settle for the two big packs of carbonated drinks.

The height of the boxes stacked on top of each other doesn't work too well for your sight, unable to see your feet or what's under you. So when you make it to the garage door it’s hard to see the door mat you have at the floor of it. The front of your flip flop bending at the slight height change in the ground causing you to trip and lose your balance. And almost drop the cans that surely would've exploded. 

Gator can hear your voice as you walk into the house but he can't quite catch what you're muttering about. All the curse words that slip from your lips from miscalculating your steps and tripping on practically nothing. And when you walk out, ready to get whatever bags Gator couldn't get on his second trip, you decide to move the door mat to the side. Punishing it from its only job for what it did to you. 

Turns out his second trip was the final trip. He’d gotten most of the bags the first time only having a couple more which he easily grouped together in his hand. You were so busy walking to the car, checking if there was anything more you needed, closing the trunk, locking it up– that you didn't quite see Gator fall. 

In fact you didn't see him fall at all. What you heard however, was his body hitting the ground, the food spill out all the bags, and a shout coming out of him. 

All within 5 seconds it happened. So quick that you could've blinked and missed it. And you did. But the second you heard it the car was done and forgotten about. Immediately worried about him, barely seeing his body through the garage door as he tries to get himself up from the floor. 

“Gator? Are you okay? What the hell happened?” You yell running up to him.

When he looks up your eyes widen even more. His nose had blood leaking from it, completely coating his lips and even staining his teeth. He’s still sitting on the floor but the injury makes you think he landed face first. Now his hands are coated in blood from trying to touch his nose, even the floor tile has some smeared blood. A perfect picture to show you just where he fell. 

“‘M fine.” He’s quick to push your grabby hands away. Using an arm to try and get up which has your hands back on him. It irritates him more than he realizes. “I said m’fine. Jus’ leave me the fuck alone would ya.” 

“Let me help Gates. I can get a cloth for your nose.” You do it before getting an answer out of him, even continue the conversation while you're down the hall grabbing a small towel for his nose. “What happened? Did you fall?” 

“The mat, it wasn't there.” He knows you moved it. It was there when he took the bags in the first time and was gone the second time, no one else was there to do it. But he decides to not point you out and blame you. Not a thing he needs right now. 

“Fuck I am so sorry I moved the mat. I didn't think you needed it, I tripped on it so I moved it thinking there were more bags-”

You’re overexplaining yourself, Gator barely even registers your words. His head is starting to pound and he can feel the thump of pain in his nose. Probably bruising, definitely swollen, completely bloody. A metallic taste of blood has taken over his mouth. 

“I use it to gauge where the step of the door is. The mat is right against the wall so it’s one step up when I reach it.” He speaks over you slightly. Like he’s done hearing your apologies and needs to get this over with. 

“Please let me help, I can help wash your face.” Your hands are clamped together, fingers intertwined in a begging pose. Because you are begging. Begging to help or for forgiveness that your stupidity got your boyfriend bloody and bruised. 

Normally he would be more open to you helping him. Except he’s in pain and hates that you are all over him. Like he can't do something so simple as to clean his own face. To top it all off he’s embarrassed. He shouldn't be, never when it comes to you. But he’s feeling the humiliation of his actions sink in. Falling meant he wasn't as tough and strong, that he still falters and does in fact need help. Would've been better if you weren't here at all to see it and then just lie when you eventually did ask about it. 

How embarrassing that because of one stupid mat he can fall flat on his face. He should have the house down by now, know how many steps it takes to get anywhere. Feeling like you can't trust your steps in your own house is where Gator draws the line. And normally you guys are good. You know not to move anything or to tell him if you do. And he can memorize it quickly so everything runs smoothly.

The mat being there is not something you would know he needed. Never once has he spoken up about it but that's kinda how half the things in your house are. There are some things in spots that seem so normal to you that are put there specifically for his convenience. To make getting around just that much easier, using less brain power. 

“Jesus Christ just let me handle it. ‘M good.” His words come out a little muffled, nose suffocated between the cloth and blood and his lips covered by whatever part of the cloth that isn't pressed against his nose. 

He makes his way towards the bathroom and shuts the door. A final action telling you to leave him alone, in case his harsh words weren't clear enough. You can tell he tried to keep his anger in, knowing that he could've said a lot worse but didn't. But it didn't stop him from letting his feelings get the best of him. Gator never yells at you, never purposefully tries to put you down but still you couldn't help but feel guilt physically eat you alive. 

Making your skin crawl from the inside out. Your heart is beating fast, when you press your hand against your skin you can feel the fast pumping immediately. It’s stupid really, how you could have a panic attack from something that didn't happen to you. But Gator isn't the only one humiliated. 

You know better than to move things without telling him. It’s something you do without even realizing it anymore, second nature to you now. So why you didn't this time you have no clue. Maybe it was because you had a personal vendetta against it, too busy stuck in your own head to think about anything else. 

His words repeat in your head over and over. Like the way he said it, voice barely wobbly like he was waiting till he was alone to break down and cry. Or how he wanted to get away from you as fast as possible. As if being around you would only cause more accidents. But that's all it was, an accident. Not something you meant to do on purpose and he knows this. Still it doesn't make his nose stop bleeding or your hands stop shaking. 

While he stays in the bathroom you put the food away, return the mat to its correct spot, and hide in your shared room. Even closing the door yourself. To cry about this is humbling, you don't have a scratch on you yet the tears stream down your face with ease. Your arms wrap around your torso, giving yourself a hug to try and ground you. Small sniffles escape you but you try your best to not let him hear it.

He takes about 10 minutes in there, silent, not asking for help, not wanting to hear your apologies. Just splashing cold water on his face, waiting for the blood to stop. His nose isn't broken, he’d know if it was from having experienced it before. It was just a little busted up from hitting the ground. In fact he actually did pretty good at trying to hold himself up, arms ready to take the fall but they just didn't. The ratio was probably off from where his arms were, too far by his head. 

A few minutes pass before you hear him call out for you. “Doll, could’ya come and make sure the bloods all gone?” 

His head hangs low when you meet up to him, waiting for you patiently to reach him. Once you do you can feel your lip tremble all over again. The size of his nose is doubled, swollen and growing a blueish yellow color from bruises. He feels your hand on his forearm before he hears you. 

“I think I stopped the blood but just wanna make sure it aint all over me.” He continues. 

Normally it’s you talking too much and him listening but for some reason it’s the other way around. Now your silence is the thing making him uncomfortable. As if maybe, just maybe, the fall was as embarrassing as it felt and you got grossed out. Seeing him take a tumble and have it affect him so easily probably isn't the most attractive thing. Makes his heart beat all the faster. Still he sits down on the toilet lid letting you do whatever you need to do to get him back to normal. 

That is until he hears you sniffle, trying to suck up the tears that are leaving your red burning eyes. 

“Are you cryin’?” 

Your eyes widen at being caught. “No.” Except you should've just stayed silent because all the mucus and liquids are in your throat, making you sound like you are in fact crying and your nose is so stuffed you can't breathe out of it. 

“C’mere.” He pats on his leg. 

You do as he asks and sit on his leg, letting one of your legs even drape over his other leg. Not the most comfortable position, your free leg stays on the ground trying to hold any left over weight so you're not crushing his thigh. 

“I’m really sorry Gator.” He can feel how hot your body is from all this crying. Even feels the tears on your face when he pushes the hair away from your cheeks. 

“It’s all good angel. Promise, I know it was just an accident.” His heavy petting of your hair plus his words are enough to have you relax enough to put your head on his shoulder. 

“I should've known better.” He can feel you shake your head but he tries to stop you with his hand on your jaw. 

“You never would've known unless I told ya, which I didn't.” 

“You can trip me so we’re even if you want.” 

This gets a small laugh out of Gator, not expecting you to say that. “I don’t wanna trip ya sweet girl. No need to be even when you didn't do anything wrong.” He waits for your sniffles to calm down before trying again. “Plus shoulda known the mat was off.” It’s a bad time for a joke but still he tries. 

It’s all in hopes for a laugh out of you but all he gets is a small kiss to his neck. You probably still feel bad, and that feeling might not go away till his nose completely heals. Which means you should expect these types of jokes out of him for the next few weeks. Anything to try and cheer you up. The action is sweet, it’ll always get him a kiss but maybe not that bright laugh he’s looking for. 

He lets you sit with him for a minute or two before you get up to continue wiping away any of the blood he might've missed. Also telling him spots on his teeth to go over with his tongue to try and get the blood away. When he brushes his teeth later tonight the rest will be dealt with but right now the less evidence of how much he was hurt the better. 

The rest of the night is spent on the couch with Gator. A show is on the tv and his head is laying in your lap with a frozen bag of peas resting against his nose. When his hand gets too cold you switch with him, lightly pressing it to his skin. After a couple of minutes he gets too cold and demands a kiss to help him feel better. Which you have to give since it’s your fault this happened in the first place. 

https://www.tumblr.com/c4tluver02/814105187266494464/regarding-to-your-pussy-as-her

wc: 4.9k

summary: You thought you could spend 5 days with out Gator while he goes on a trip. Turns out you were wrong.

cw: MDNI, filth, f!reader, female anatomy, dacryphilia (blink and you'll miss it), regarding vagina as 'her', loss of virginity f!r, p in v sex, Gator calling your vagina his, religious!reader, unprotected sex, lmk if i missed anything!

a/n: request here.. thank you for asking more of gator and his sweet little church girl! i love writing gator tehehe!!! also i literally have 0 religious background so if i got something wrong please let me know :))

part 1, part 2, this is part 3 or could be standalone !

Gator was gone for five days. 

Monday to Friday. On some job his daddy sent him on. A useless, barely needed to be done, type of job but still something Gator was forced to do nonetheless. Normally you can deal with Roy and the chores he gives your boyfriend. Because what were you gonna do about it? But shipping him off to tie some loose ends was just Roy giving into the greed of laziness. A sin in itself if anyone asked you. 

The days went on slowly. It was shocking how bored you were. You’ve lived alone before Gator, all naive and innocent, spending your days at church or helping with some charities around town– so you should be able to live without him now. But for some reason you were struggling. A part of you missed him in a way you didn't know was possible. Like if there was a hole in you only he could fix. As if a part of you is missing without him. 

The first day or two you spent baking. Deciding to use your free time and space– without Gator trying to eat all the food– to make some desserts. First you started out with cookies, making them from scratch. But when that only took you a few hours out of the 12 hour day so you baked more. Next was a pie that you would send to the police station for Roy and the guys to have. Half hoping it is a good enough gift that God will accept for the awful things you think of him and half because it’s never bad to be on his good side. 

Roy is the first person you see when you walk into the station. Not exactly the man you wanted to see but the man who you intend on eating this pie. He greets you in a way he never would if Gator was around, hands on your shoulder that then move to your waist. You make up an excuse to leave feeling extremely uncomfortable. And you know better than to try to look at the other men for help, too stuck under Roy's thumb to stop him. 

When you get home you send Gator the picture you took when you were done baking the pie. You have the apron he loves to see you wear on. He says it makes your boobs look extra good, and he’d agree after seeing the photo. You even let him know that you went to the station to give it to Roy and the guys working. Except leaving out the reason you left so quickly. He’s quick to give you praise. 

Gator💘: Ur perfect doll. 

Gator💘: I love u, keep being a good girl for me. 

Gator💘: Remind me when I get home to put a ring on that pretty finger. 

Normally Gator gives your praise for anything. You do the dishes, you get praise. You cook dinner, you get praise. Like you don't also need clean dishes and food for dinner. His daddy always says it’s your role, what you’re there for, he tries instilling that thinking into Gator. But all Gator can do is thank you for doing it. 

And if he were home he'd probably do more than praise you. Maybe have a little make out session, let you sit in his lap while you let his hands roam all over you. You’d grind your hips into his while he ruts his up to match your pace. You never let it go too far but you’re so kind you never let him go without. Whether it’s a hand job, something Gator recently taught you to do for him after a forever of begging, or rubbing him over his pants, he always finishes. Although you’d never let yourself be so lucky. Too aware, too much of a rule follower, too much religious guilt already wrapped around you. 

And you’d be lying if you said the simple thoughts of those moments didn't get you heated. That his texts didn't go straight to your cunt. While you're in bed texting him you grab his pillow, sniffing it to get any hints of his shampoo or cologne. Then Gator calls you, in the middle of it all. His tired voice does numbers for you, you can feel the wetness through your pajama shorts. 

And before you know it the pillow is pushed under you, quickly trying to find a corner that has some sturdiness to it to give you the right type of pleasure you so desperately crave. Riding it slowly but with intense pressure, it starts to feel good. He unknowingly talks you through what you're doing. Telling you how your picture made him have to go to the bathroom mid talking to someone and you breathlessly scold him. Like what you're doing right now is any better. 

Day three is spent at church all day long. Hoping whatever you were doing yesterday gets forgiven. Repenting in any way you can. Letting anyone who's listening know that you’d never give into that. Never let such a disturbing sin grab hold of you. Especially not when you're so close to marriage. It’s really around the corner, Gators talks about it so much, it has to be soon. 

Day four you feel a little better. You deep clean the entire house, specifically the kitchen since you left it in a bit of a mess from all the cooking you did. Vacuuming, mopping, dusting, doing the laundry, going to the grocery store to stack up on all of Gator's favorites. You were busy to say the least. 

That was until you decided to show Gator the beautiful necklace the church gave you. They said it was because you help around more than any member, and that you deserved it more than anyone. You had the idea to show him after your shower, rinsing off the sweat and lingering chemical smells you had from cleaning. The long mirror in your room was your perfect height, going a little bit above your head. Allowing you to put your camera over your face to focus on the beautiful cross necklace. 

At this point in time all you have on is your undergarments. A white bra and white cotton underwear. Your bra is pretty, it has lace on the trim and a little bow in the middle. The white looks bright against your tanned skin, a shade or two darker due to your time in the sun. 

In the first picture you take it’s a little off, too much of your neck and jaw not enough of your necklace. The second attempt is good enough but your third attempt is what you send to your boyfriend. It’s a nice picture of your necklace but more than that it shows the top of your bra, going far enough to see the small bow in the middle with ease.  The faceless picture makes it feel dirty, like you can't excuse it because it’s clearly a titty pic. Your hand that's not holding the phone holds onto the cross in the picture, like that's gonna save you for sending something so scandalous. 

All you can tell yourself is that it’s not a perverted picture. Gator has seen you like this more times than you can count, he’s seen you naked for crying out loud. A little bit of your bra isn't going to send you to hell, you’ll be just fine. 

What Gator is doing all the way in his hotel room however, is perverted. With his hand down his boxers he tries to type a message out. Fumbling because his eyes go from his practically hard dick, to your boobs, to the keyboard. You never send him anything like this, he feels like a boy on christmas day. 

Gator💘: More? Lower?

A tough shot honestly. You may get angry at him for viewing the picture in such a sinful way or you might go with it. Already this far might as well go further. In reality Gator is struggling just as much as you. Missing your hands all over him at night or the food you make him for breakfast. All the tiny ways you take perfect care of him that he was never taught to do himself. 

And man oh man God is good!!

You send a picture back to him. Except this one is just your body. You’re sitting on the floor, legs pushed to one side and posing. Showing him more than he thought he’d ever get. He knows exactly the things you’re wearing and how they feel, and if he thinks hard enough he could almost smell how you taste. He comes way too fast and texts back how beautiful you look. 

The rest of the day is spent with you trying to forget this ever happened in your clean spotless house. 

By day 5 you feel like you can breathe again. Gator comes back in the evening so you give yourself the day off. Basically all you could do has been done and now you can relax. Laying on the couch, watching a movie, bowl of popcorn in your lap. It’s perfect. A nice relaxing day. 

So relaxing that you fell asleep. 

You didn't plan on falling asleep, didn't even think you were tired enough for it. But the two hours of rest really took you out of it. Fully dreaming, in REM sleep, unaware of anything going on. 

Like Gator coming home. 

He had a feeling you’d fallen asleep because you weren't answering your texts. Your location shows you're at home so it lessened his worries. And he was right, walking through the door as quietly as he could before setting everything down in the front area. Making sure to take off his boots to truly not wake you up. A sweet gesture he doesn't even realize he is doing. It only takes a few steps before he sees you. 

The sight is genuinely torture. You're laying on your belly, face pressed into your arm, the blanket has fallen off you and onto the floor revealing the tiniest shorts you own and your shirt scrunched up to show a little of your bra. The shorts could practically pass as underwear. Showing off your ass in the most delicious way, paired with the sleepy pouty lips you have, and the fact that he hasn't seen you in five days has him feeling like some animal. 

So pent up he doesn't even know what to do with himself. If he was in his dream world he would wake you up with his dick in your mouth. Using you to get him all wet before traveling to other places. Even the thought of it has him hard already. 

Instead what he does is way kinder, less appalling, more gentle. Starting by kneeling to your level, then pushing the hair that's fallen out of your face, pressing small kisses on your face. Which works, getting a groan from you that doesn't help Gator in the slightest. You’re in the weird spot of half asleep half awake where you can hear him and feel him but your eyes dont wanna open. So it all still feels like a dream. 

“Hey mama, m’home. Wanna wake up fer me?” He asks, letting his kisses go from your cheek to your jaw, going down to the sweet spots on your neck that get a throaty sound out of you. 

“Mmm Gator.” Your head tips to go further into the pillow so your neck gets more exposed, barely awake but too into the sensations you're feeling. 

“I know, I know doll.” 

Him pausing to speak allows you to move your body, changing the way you're laying. Going from laying on your tummy to laying on your back so he could get to you easier. Even though you're not fully awake to realize it yet. Still he accepts the change happily, moving to get on the couch, arms on the sides of your head, knees kneeling between your open legs.

Moving between kissing your neck and lips now that you're more awake to reciprocate them. And despite everything feeling fuzzy around the edges and not knowing what time it is you let him. Hands clawing at his shirt– specifically his biceps that are restricted by his shirt. 

The kiss is so passionate and feverish. Five days of waiting and frustration all coming out in the barely lit living room. Now that the sun's going down it’s getting dark quickly. But none of that really matters when Gator makes the move of squeezing your boobs under your pajama shirt. The simple feeling of it has you arching your back, he gets the hint and unclips your bra. If you were more awake you’d find it extremely hot that he did it without looking. 

“Arm’s up, c’mon.” He says tapping the side of your waist. 

You listen like a well trained dog. Arms going up while his lips attack any new skin that shows. Bra and shirt are off in seconds, his thumb brushing against your hardening nipples. His mouth on yours swallow the moans that are spilling out of you from his actions. Hips lifting up to meet him out of pure instinct. You’re not sure why you did it, why it was instinct for your body. Never a movement you’d let yourself willingly do before, a physical action of need for him in a sexual manner. A rotten, filthy, disgusting action. An action you’d never do if you were fully awake. 

But you’re not fully awake and you’re not quite sure if you want to be. Never wanting to witness this happening with full clarity. Seeing your actions repeated over and over in your own mind. Maybe that and the fact that this fuzzy feeling is adding to everything Gator is doing to you. Like him moving one of his arms to grip around your thigh tightly. Something to ground him while he feels like he’s winning the lottery. 

He knows he got you here. Knew you’d crack and break right before him. Whether you will be okay with it tomorrow isn't really a thought in his brain right now. Only making you feel good and him feel better. Because unlike you the guilt won't eat him up entirely. Not caring less if you have a ring around your finger for this to happen. Honestly he’s been suffering this whole time so really he deserves this. It should be celebrated and allowed to happen again and again now that you've broken. 

“Y’want it huh baby? Need it don’cha? It’s all my fault, shoulda never left ya fer so long.” 

His words get you to places you never thought you'd be without a wedding ring. Gator focuses on his shirt next but you're whining under him. Literally clawing at his belt like you’re gonna wither away without his dick in you soon. He can't help the huge smile on his face, it almost hurts. 

“Gotta tell me doll, whatda want huh? Can't read your mind.” He works on his belt you were begging about while he waits on your answer. 

What he should know is you’re never going to just come out and say you need his dick in you. Especially for your first time, you really wanted this to be done right. Like on your honeymoon, in a big bed, preferably in another state. Maybe a little tipsy and bubbly as his hands roam all around you, the cold gold band on his ring finger giving you goosebumps. 

Instead you’re on your couch, back already hurting from how thin the cushions are. In your pajamas, a pimple patch on your forehead probably reflecting whatever left of light you have.  And still despite all that no one's hearing you say no. No one there hearing you say stop. 

Gators voice snaps you out of your thoughts. “You still asleep or what? Needa hear you.” The way he says it sends a shiver down your spine. It’s very stern like he wouldn't continue if he didn't hear you actually wanted it. A kind gesture because you shouldn't want it. But you do. 

“Need you, Gator. Need you so so bad.” 

With that his cargo pants slide down his legs as he kicks them off to the ground. Now all that's left is you in your shorts and underwear and Gator in his underwear. It’s quite the scene, the two of you all breathless and into it. A completely different world from where you were 20 minutes ago. With his lips all over your boobs it almost feels like you’re still in that world. 

As one hand massages your left boob his mouth is sucking on your right nipple. Practically drooling all over it, and a part of you thinks he meant to do this because he blows cold air onto it. Getting a high pitched gasp out of you. Your hands are raked through his gelled hair, breaking the cast of it and gripping tightly. 

He goes lower and lower till he's at the bottom of your belly, below your belly button and above your pussy. Giving light kisses as his hands grip tightly on your thighs– sure enough to leave bruises and half moon shape cuts from his nails. 

Pulling off your shorts and underwear together is a skill he’s too good at for this being your first time with him but you don't have the mental capacity to even think more about it. From one second to the next his lips are giving light kisses and kitten licks on your cunt. Already soaked from all this kissing and touching you've been doing. 

You can physically feel the vibrations of his moan once he tastes you. “God, could live off her fer forever. Taste so sweet, mama.” 

The way you push his head down and your hips up to shut him up makes his dick throb even more. Desperate to feel those vibrations again, or anything more than just small licks. Which he seems to get the hint because soon after he’s devouring you. Sucking on your clit as he pushes his tongue in and out of your tight hole. Gator can feel you clamp around his tongue, making his dick twitch in his boxers. 

It really doesn't take long till your grip on his hair tightens and your legs shake. Letting out the most pornographic moan he’s ever heard out of you. He lets you come down slowly still giving your clit some action but not enough to overstimulate you. 

“Made a mess outta me doll, got me completely soaked.” He says but he doesn't even bother wiping any of it away, instead leaning back up to give you a kiss. You can taste yourself on him and even more so when his tongue fights with yours. 

This whole position is killing both of you. The couch is not being made for this at all, in fact it’s slightly coming apart in  the middle from the weight of you both. Would it be easier to go down the hall to your bed, probably yeah. But you’ve never gotten this far and Gators a little worried you might be done. Cutting him off completely after having your first orgasm on this fuck ass couch he brought from his old place. 

It’s only once you calm down a little that Gator feels your hands trying to pull his boxers off. So he keeps going. Giving into your needy hands and taking his underwear off for it to bob slightly in the air from the quick movement. Letting the couch get a break he stands up and lets you sit on it. 

“Get to it mama, need’a get nice n’ wet for that little pussy o’mine huh?” 

HIs hands are quick to gather your hair, not getting every strand in his swift movement but he gets enough. Enough to get a nice grip to pull gaining full control over your head. You have your tongue out, as if to say you're ready for whatever he’s planning to do to you. 

At first he just pushes his cock into the side of your mouth, getting it nice and wet. Liking the visual of his dick making a physical appearance through your cheek. Then he pushes your head a little more forward letting you fully suck him off. What your mouth can't reach your hands finish. Still pearing up at him but now with little tears brimming your eyes. So fucked out you couldnt belive it. 

As much as he loves your throat he could almost promise he’d love that unused cunt even more. Which is why he pulls you off. A little ‘pop’ sound comes out of you as you get removed. After he lets go of your hair he gives your forehead a kiss, a gentle moment to show you he’s not always all rough and hard like this.

“Turn f’me mama.” He gestures with his hand doing a little swirl moment to get his point across. 

You do as told and your front is now facing towards the couch, arms resting on the top part of it that meets the wall. Gator doesn't have a condom anywhere on him. Not in his wallet because it's not like he's just having sex out and about. And not even in his bedside drawer because you’d find it and get rid of it. Maybe this whole time you were just telling him you wanted it raw. Shit he knows he does. 

And you don't even say anything about it when you feel his dick rub against your pussy. The veins and ridges catch along your clit as he goes back and forth coating himself in you. It has you moaning and pressing your forehead against the wall, needing something to ground you in this moment. 

However once he sticks the tip into you it’s a whole other story. Your hand scram behind you searching for his, your head falls back, and your toes slightly curl. It’s a whole new feeling compared to his fingers or his tongue. 

“Y’good baby? Fuck y’so tight and warm. So unfortunate she had to wait f’so long.” 

“M’good. Go, k-keep going.” You nod feverishly. His hand squeezes yours before you take both of your hands to go back to the top of the couch. Half his body bends over yours to reach but the warmth of his skin only does more for you. 

His pace is slow at first. Consistent, tender, and his moans behind you tell you all you need to know. The only thing leaving his lips are the most vulgar swear words. Hands roaming your body. Switching between your boobs, thighs, and ass. Gripping onto the skin that's slapping against him and digging his nails in. Only going back to your nipples and twisting them between his finger tips, getting the best sounds out of you. 

“More, need more Gate, please.” What kind of boyfriend would he be if he didn't do that for you? 

His grip switched to your hips to get good traction of your body. Using you to stay upright. The pace increases, the loudest sound besides your moans are his skin slapping against yours– echoing off the walls. When your hips push back while he pushes forward you two both get what you want. A delicious feeling, curing you of that emptiness you were experiencing for five days straight. 

Gator is so hypnotized but your cunt sucking him in and out. Taking him like you were made purely for this. The way your hole stretches around his huge dick, turning a light pink with the way he’s abusing it. The visual is too much; he almost misses you praying. 

Your hands pressed together as your sweaty forehead falls between your arms. Probably trying to come up with an excuse or something to tell God while Gator pounds into you like it’ll be his last time. Which honestly he doesn't know, it could be. God will have to excuse him for it, too blissed out on you and how you feel around him. 

“Jesus fuckin’ christ angel, could die tomorrow and id be a happy man.” Gator grunts, jaw clenched as his teeth grind together. 

“Dont.. I can't- don't say that.” You still have your hands together. Except this time you look behind your shoulder to find him. 

He looks otherworldly. Strands of hair falling onto his face, biting the life out of his bottom lip, eyes so big and dark like he’s fully becoming someone else in this moment. Which he is, he’s becoming a new man who finally got pussy after ages of waiting. His arms look so big right now, using every muscle in his body to hold onto you and not give up the speed he’s going at. 

“M’not gonna die dont worry.” If he wasnt fucking you dumb he would’ve rolled his eyes. 

“No, God's name.. Oh my. God’s name in vain. More Gator. More more. ” You’re mewling at him. 

Jaw hanging open like you don't have any control over any part of your body. Too focused on the feeling of his cock hitting the perfect spot over and over. It’s like you can feel him in your chest he's so deep inside of you. And yet with all of that going on you can still call him out for blasphemy. The whole thing feels like your words are going through one ear and out the other until you feel his fingers circle your clit. Giving it the attention it’s been begging for. 

“Corinthians 16:14 angel. Say it f’me.” Saying a bible verse and his nickname for you while doing what he’s doing should be illegal. Something that should never happen. Yet of course he does it. 

“Gator, no, cant.” You shake your head, your boobs pressing against the now sweaty leather of the couch. 

“Say it or I'll stop.” 

“Let all you do be done in love.” Somehow it’s the first sentence you've been actually able to spit out fully. Maybe God is on your side. 

“Exactly. Love you s’much angel, all I wanna do is show you how much I love you.” You can feel him give you a kiss on your shoulder blade. But once you feel it you turn your head and pucker your lips. The kiss is passionate, full of lust and love. Not some quick thing to please you but something both of you really mean in that moment. 

“I love you too, Gator. Couldn't live without you. N-not even for five days.”

Gator can see your hands grip tightly on the couch. Squeezing the leather between your hands form the feeling coiling up in your belly. Even with the way you suck him in he can feel just how close you are. His hand speeds up on your clit as his dick pounds into you with all his might. The way you yell out his name has Gator is right behind you. The two of you using the last of your energy to go as hard as you can, both bodies meeting each other to get one thing. 

A true blessing is Gator remembering hes quite literally fucking you raw right now. The thought both gets him to come but also forces him to pull out of you. You fall from your kneeling position on the couch as he spirts his cum along your back and side. He even has to reach his arm out for the couch so he doesn't fall over from how much he’s cumming.

You two lay limp on the couch, sweaty and panting for air. Extremely out of breath and breathing in the sex aroma surrounding the living room. Gator lets you relax for a second before grabbing his t-shirt to wipe his semen off of you. Giving your head kisses while he does it. It’s easy to fall into him, leaning your head against his shoulder. 

It’s hard to feel so bad about what you did when you feel on top of the world. So close and connected with the person you love most. If anything this showed you that you could love him even more, in a different way. Not even purely sexual but in a way that feels close and personal. Fully trusting someone else in a vulnerable way that you wouldn't do with just anyone. 

“Are y’okay angel? You feeling okay?” Gator questions, wanting to make sure he didn't go overboard. 

“I’m okay baby. Are you okay?” 

“Never been fuckin’ better.” He snickers. The realization of what just happened hitting him square in the face. 

hiiiiii!!!!!! eee thats so nice of you to say i really appreciate it <3!! i would love to write a 3rd part for gator x religious reader!! if anyone has any specific things they want or any ideas feel free to comment or drop it in the inbox :D I'll get to writing ;)

get in the back

wc: 5.0k

summary: After getting interrupted you and Steve find your way back to each other. Except this time it's in his car.

cw: MDNI!, smuttttt, semi-public sex, car sex, big dick Steve, titty fucking, f!reader, cum play, Steve is a munch (canon), oral sex, porn with plot, aftercare, lmk if i missed anything!

a/n: thank you guys for so much love on my last fic!!!!!!!! it means the world to me that you enjoy the things i write <3333 i wasn't even planning on making a pt 2 but it's what the ppl wanted so here's pt 2 of new neighbor but could be standalone !! luvva uu enjoy ;))

It had been a week since the fourth of July party at Steve’s. A whole week of your mind replaying everything that had gone down. 

Like pulling him away from everyone to get exactly what you want. Him willingly trying to give it to you. His hands all over you, trying to squeeze what should be a long and memorable moment into less than 5 minutes. And then of course Robin ending it before it had a real chance to start. It was a long and dreadful loop that played in your mind nightly. 

The first few nights it was okay, it had just happened and the tension was high. Leaving you to your own devices and letting your hand slip down your pants. Then it became pathetic. So pathetic you almost went over to your kid neighbor to get his number. Searching for anything to get it out of your head and maybe that was just doing it. Getting it out of your system so it couldn't plague you any longer. 

However the thought of it was humiliating enough for you to not let it happen. If you wanted to have a big sign on your back saying I need dick or ill die then maybe it would be something you’ll consider but at this point in time you haven't gotten there just yet. 

Well you say yet but the look on your face directly after it happened that night might have said it for you already. Shocked and only thinking with your pussy was definitely a hard look to hide. Especially when Steve acted like it hadn't happened with ease. Like his dick wasn't throbbing in his shorts or he was constantly looking for another moment to slip away with you. Unfortunately that time never came, the kids wanted the older teens to join them in the pool and they all agreed. 

Lucas suggested playing chicken which was fine, love a game of chicken. Until Steve's hand found itself on your hip and the words ‘hop on my shoulders’ fell out of his mouth. It was all too much and it had you feeling like some horny school girl. Someone who's never been touched a day in her life and might come by the simple act of being on his shoulders. Trying to fight Nancy and Jonathan also became you trying to fight the feeling of his hands high on your thighs and your body rocking back and forth against his neck and back. Like a perfect surface that had just enough muscle to make ridges for you to get off on.  

Needless to say you needed that week of freedom from Steve. 

A nice week to try and get your brain back to normal. Already pissed off that some boy dug himself so deep into your mind that it had you acting like this in the first place. A guy you tried to push away countless times mind you. If only you were strong enough to have pushed through his big hazel eyes and nice hair. It was like the strong independent woman in you was gasping for air trying to survive in the grip Steve had you in. 

In hopes of getting back on track you spent a few days hanging out with Dustin. Helping him make more D&D costumes, sewing and hot gluing fabric to try and make something better than your last one. But what's the harm in asking him about his older best friend? 

“So did you have fun at the party?” You start, your hands busy with a needle and thread while Dustin sits in front of you watching. 

“It was fun, Steve having a pool is why I keep him around.” 

“I wish we had a pool.” It’s easy to mope about it because if you had a pool you would've never had to spend your time tanning on the front lawn. 

“I know, Steve said I could use his whenever I wanted though so I’ll take it.” He shrugs. 

“Really? That’s nice.” There's a beat of silence that passes between you two. “D’he say you could bring anyone with you?” Your lips purse out as you ask the question. 

It’s a selfish question. And the reasoning behind it is something Dustin could never know about. A bad idea in total but maybe the only way you’ll see him. Better than asking for his number, that's for sure. 

Dustin smiles at your question, despite your intentions being different from him he likes the idea. “I mean he didn't say it explicitly, just that the group could always come. But I’m sure he wouldn't mind you coming. He did give us a whole lecture about not embarrassing him in front of you.” 

“I mean you could always give him a call and ask. You’d have to call and tell him you’re coming anyway.” You’re not even looking at him, still threading like this means nothing to you. 

The next 15 minutes is spent calling Steve to get the okay which he obviously gives and then Dustin calling the kids to meet him there. From just getting the idea minutes prior he really knows how to get everyone together. Even telling who will drive with who, offering you up as a driver which gets a scoff out of you but you don't fight him about it. 

Luckily no one needs a ride there but you’re sure they’ll need a ride back. It’s a Saturday so no one's working but if this goes till the evening no parent will want to pause dinner to get their kid. Again, part of the neighborly duties that you have taken on. And maybe that's Dustin's reason for keeping you around, similarly to Steves. 

You and Dustin get there half an hour later. You had to go back to your place to change and get some stuff while the kid did the same. The Harrington house isn't far from you either, only a few minutes away. 

Walking up to the door you raise your hand to knock but Dustin beats you and opens the already unlocked door. Maybe he has too much leverage here, but it’s not your house so not your problem. He’s just got himself wrapped around Steve's finger. 

“Steve! We’re here!” He screams way too loud. 

“Jesus okay got it, thanks for letting the whole street know.” He responds sarcastically while coming down the stairs. 

“How was I to know you weren't outside already?” Dustin’s hand goes to his hip, almost a copied pose of how Steve does it. Like father, like son. 

“Oh I don't know you could just walk outside and greet me.” Steve seems to be full of sass today and the kid is already over it, walking into the kitchen to help himself to the food in the fridge. 

“Look who's already back.” He narrows his eyes on you and the smirk is just as confident as it was the last time he tried this tone on you.

“What can I say? Couldn't stop thinking about the last time.” You flirt back, grabbing the bottom hem of his shirt.

“Oh yeah?” There it is again, his hand on your skin, rubbing soothing circles on your hip. 

“Mhm, felt so good I couldn't get it out of my mind. The pool y’know? I just had to come feel it again.” You smile and give his hand a squeeze before walking away. If you had looked behind you, you would have seen his face turn red. Jaw dropped, eyes stuck on you, and brain already frazzled like he’d been out in the sun for too long. 

And so the race is back on. Between everyone arriving at Steves and him trying to get you back it was a full get together all over again. The kids grabbed stuff they wanted out of his fridge, bringing it outside to eat by the pool. Which also got them a stern talking to by the older boy, telling them to not drop food in the pool. They know not to but hey, accidents happen! 

This is honestly the perfect set up. The kids are so busy and focussed on each other, barely remembering there are two adults there to watch them. It gives you and Steve time to flirt in the kitchen. 

You jumped up to sit on the counter when he was offering you something to drink and one thing turned into another and now you're trapped by him. Hands caging you as he rests against the counter, letting himself lower a bit to reach your level. It felt unfair so now your hands are around his neck, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. When he says something mean or sassy, you pull it and he has to fight a moan slipping from your lips. Although the way he bites his lip says it all you don't even need to hear it. Even though you’d love to. 

“I’ve been thinking about how to ask Dustin for your number this entire week.” He admits. 

“Yeah? What stopped you?” 

“He’d never give it to me. He thinks I go out with every girl in Hawkins.” Steve is quick to roll his eyes like it’s such a lame excuse. 

“Well, do you?”

“No. At least not anymore. Been too busy thinking about this girl.” He says it softly as he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, his hand lingering gently along your jaw.

“Damn got you that bad huh?” You tease. 

Steve scoffs like it isn't true even though you're 100% right. Your tongue comes out to lick your lip in hopes of trying to suppress your smile and it’s all Steve needs to be hypnotized. Using his hand that's on your jaw to pull you into him for a kiss. 

At first it’s a few kisses, soft and simple. That is until you use your hands around his neck to pull his whole body closer to you. He’s restricted by the counter, unable to move any closer so you scoot to the edge. Your bodies couldn't be any closer than they are, every part of you is touching him. 

“D’you wanna ditch them for a bit?” His lips are still practically attached to yours as he says it.

“We shouldn't leave them for long.” It’s sick that you being so responsible for them turns him on even more but it does. 

“Wont be long, a super quick trip. We’ll be back in 20, maybe even less.” 

He lets you go completely, grabbing your hips to help you get off of the counter before you even agree. The heat makes your thighs slightly stick to the counter top which makes you let out a little ‘ouch’ from being pulled off of it so quickly. Steve immediately has worried eyes and turns to look at the back of your thighs, wanting to make sure he didn't actually hurt you too badly. Once his own eyes see that you’re fine he gives the crown of your head a kiss and grabs your hand, leading you outside. 

“We're gonna go get more ice for the coolers, we'll be back in a second. Can you guys not mess anything up for like 20 minutes?”

It’s a reasonable thing to get since it’s extremely hot out, the ice barely lasts an hour. The responses he gets back are all ‘yeah whatever’ and ‘sure bye’. He knows they’ll be fine, he’s left them alone for a bit before to get something at the store. And also knowing they have made it through the upside down helps his nerves. 

With an okay from the kids you two are off. Hand in hand Steve opens the passenger car door for you before opening his own driver door. Getting it, turning the air all the way up, and turning the music on. As far as you know he really wanted to go to the store with you. There was no further information than that. 

Or that's what you thought until he drove a few streets up and parked. The neighborhood he parked in is in the process of being built. Houses that aren't quite yet houses more so wood structures that have machine vehicles to lift heavy things parked by them. It’s in the very back, if someone wanted to get back there they’d have to do a few turns to get to where you are. The area is so new there aren't even street lights lining the side walks making it dark as the sun sets. 

“What are we doing here?” You turn your body to look out the window, trying to get a better idea of what his plan is. 

Steve unbuckles his seat belt and turns the music up a little bit. “Get in the back." His voice comes out rushed like he's out of breath already. 

A shocked look takes over your features. “We were never going to the store were we?” You ask, still following his command. 

“My freezer makes ice, why would I go out and get it?” All you can do is smile at his words, too focused on him climbing to the back. 

“Drove out here just to fuck me huh?” 

“Less talking, more kissing.” Who are you to decline him? It’s what you've wanted all week anyways. 

His back seat isn't the biggest thing in the world, barely fitting you two back there comfortably. Would it have been better to hook up in a bed? Yeah but not everyone can be so lucky. Besides, with his hands pulling you up into his lap you feel pretty on top of the world. 

While his large hands grasp onto your face holding you in place to kiss him your hands are working on his shorts. Untying the stupid double knot he tied with your eyes closed and long nails is harder than it sounds. So hard that he lets you go, untying it himself while you take your shirt off. Underneath you have your bathing suit on which he will never get tired of seeing. A new top that shapes your boobs perfectly, pushing them up and together in a way that could make him drool. 

Before you can even realize it he’s done with his shorts and moving onto your bikini top, pulling on the string that makes it almost pop up. The perfect bow you had was so tight around your neck to make sure it held your boobs in a way that would be secure, the tension finally released. You pull the second string that wraps around your back and throw it behind you. 

Yeah Steve saw your boobs when he was all over them at the party but to see you straddling him with nothing on at all is a whole new look he is trying to engrave in his head. Immediately his mouth attaches to one while his hand works on the other. So similar to your last rendezvous that it gives you deja vu. Except this time he slightly bites and pulls on your nipple, making you let out the prettiest whine he’s ever heard in his life. 

He decides this is enough and that he’s gotta hear more of those noises. With a gentle tap to your thigh he points to the seat, hoping you can read his mind. And you do– moving your body off of him to sit on the seat, leaning heavily against the door with one leg resting near the seat’s head rest and the other dangling off the seat completely. Definitely not comfortable but when his mouth is on you it won't be a thought. 

“Shirt” You gasp out. Surprisingly he understands you, somehow the two of you have the same brain in this moment. That or he can put two and two together that you don't have a shirt on so neither should he!

Still he listens to you and discards his shirt, letting you have a moment to gawk at him and his chest hair that leads down his belly to his happy trail. You almost forget why he told you to sit there and go straight for his shorts but his hand on your thigh stops you. With a quick hand your shorts are off and Steve smiles like he just won a million dollars. Which if you asked him he’d say it feels like he did. 

Seeing your little bikini bottoms with those bows on each side will kill him. It’s like he’s unwrapping a gift on Christmas. A simple tug at a string and one side is completely open, then the next side and you're completely naked. Actually this might be better than Christmas, better than any holiday he’s ever experienced. 

Steve starts at your inner thigh, giving little baby kisses here and there, slightly switching to little nips at your skin. And he’s got exactly what he was hoping for, more of those sweet sounds coming from your swollen pink lips. 

You don't expect it when he does it, still in the fuzzy feeling of him on your thighs. It’s when you feel small kitten licks right on your pussy. Like he’s just letting himself have a little taste before muttering something about ‘tastes so good’ and ‘could live off this’. His words go to your cunt before anything else. 

“Jesus baby, all this for me? She’s soakin’.” The ending of his sentence is slightly muffled, your hand pushing his head down trying to make something– anything happen. 

Another whine comes out and it has him looking up at you to see the pout. So upset he’s not quick to give you what you want. Even though him looking at you with hooded eyes and his tongue sliding along your clit should be enough, but it’s just not. 

“More Stevie. Please, more, more.” The boner he has is extremely painful, your words are not helping. Especially when you call him that. 

But he listens to you finally giving you what you've been begging for. Sucking lightly before spreading your folds with his fingers. Letting them get drenched in the mixture of you and his spit. One hand grips your thigh as the other slowly goes inside of you. He can see you shiver, even feel the goosebumps that start to litter your skin. Then he adds a second finger, making a world of a difference. Making a ‘come here’ motion that hits the perfect spot each time. 

“Fuck. Fuck Steve thats- Mmm.”

“Yeah? S’good huh?”

“So good. You’re so good.” 

Your hand tangles in his hair and pulls which gets a groan out of him. The vibration going from his throat to his lips to your clit makes you squirm but his arm wraps around your thigh locking you in place. 

His lips let go of you. “So wet, god you're so fucking wet.” But his fingers still work at a fast pace, even using his thumb to massage your sensitive bud. 

It’s all a lot, his hands are all over you and his mouth is working over time. He can feel your hand gripping his hair tighter, even using your other hand to grasp at his arm on your thigh. First you tap him fast like you're tapping out of a fight but when the feeling is too much you can only hold onto him. Your body trembles and moans drown out any other noise in the car. Every muscle in your body clenches and your toes curl. 

“C’mon pretty girl, you can come. Come right on my fingers, can feel it, you're so close huh? You got this.” You don't even think you can register what he’s saying, your body is on overdrive and all you can do is push your hips into his fingers, trying to chase the feeling even more. 

Your chest is heaving, your hairline has beads of sweat threatening to drip down your face. The AC in the car barely reaches the back seats but it’s the last thing you’re thinking of. “Yes, yes, yes ,yes!” 

Your babbling and Steve can feel the way your cunt squeezes his fingers. He keeps going, this time a little slower, a little less force but enough to guide you through your orgasm. It hits you hard, making you too overstimulated to think or say anything. And when he slips his fingers out you choke on nothing. So sensitive that even the action was too much. 

He lets go of your thigh, letting your legs close and relax. Your breathing is heavy, trying to come back down to earth. Lightly grabbing your chin to pull you in for a kiss, he’s using the same hand that was just in you. The feeling of his wet digits is clear on your cheek. 

“Are you okay?” He asks as he pulls away, his hand still on you. 

“Mhm, never been better.” You pant, a smile on your lips.

“Taste so sweet, dunno how I lived this long without it.” His thumb plays with your bottom lip, pulling at it. 

You don't think he even knows what he wants out of the action, too wrapped up in what just happened to really think anything through clearly. When he goes to do it again you open your mouth, lips puckered, and your head slightly lowered to catch his thumb in your mouth. Sucking on it slightly at first then a little harder to hollow your cheeks. You grab onto his forearm to keep him steady, not that he really needs it, and begin to suck. The look on his face is priceless, like he was the one who just got fucked– completely gone. 

“Fuck baby.” You’ve never heard him sound like that before. A mix of a whine and moan, a beautiful sound that has your pussy clenching around nothing all over again. 

Letting his thumb go with a ‘pop’ noise. “Need more Stevie.” You beg. 

“Where. Where baby, m’not a mind reader y’know?” 

There’s no pause between when he asks and when you put your hand on his dick. Moving towards him on your knees- crawling as much as you can in the tight space. You can feel just how hard he is through his pants, there's even a slight dark spot from his pre cum. “Need your dick, please, please lemme have it.” 

Steve moves to grab his wallet from the front, searching for a condom to use. But when he doesnt find one you can hear a ‘fuck’ come from him. His next idea is to look in the glove box, it’s filled with papers and random shit he’s pushing out. Making a mess he couldn't care less about looking for the small square tin foil looking object. 

“I don't have it.” Quickly looking back to make sure he doesn't squish you as he makes his way back to the seat. 

“You don't have a condom? When the whole point of being out here was to have sex?” 

Now Steve feels 10x more awful. With your brows knitting together to show just how devastating this news is. Because you’re right, how did he get here without thinking about bringing a condom? All he has is an excuse on how he was thinking with his dick and not his brain but it doesn't sound like a great idea. 

“I- I don't know. I don't know how I forgot it. I was just rushing to get you out here and–” 

“Steve, it’s okay. It’s totally fine.” It really isn't and if anyone is feeling that it’s Steve and his cock that's throbbing. “Just use me.” You suggest.

“What?”

“All you do is stare at my tits, just use them.” 

What a call out. Still a good enough plan B. A great one even, something Steve could see him begging you to try with him in the future if you hadn't just brought it up. 

“Yeah, yeah okay lets do that.” He pulls his shorts down and his dick is quick to shoot back up. 

He fucking huge. With the prettiest pink rosey colored tipped that has white smeared all over it. You almost feel like a cartoon with heart eyes, absolutely in love. You can't help but touch it, letting your soft fingers press along the slit. Now Steve's the one shuttering, even the slight touch feels like too much. And he’s so pent up he’s not sure he’ll even last long.

Quickly you spit into your hand to go straight back to him, rubbing it all along his length. It’s so painfully slow that you get a chance to feel each and every ridge, every vein, how silky soft he is. With your hand rubbing him slowly you bring your lips down to give his tip a kiss. 

“So pretty Steve, prettiest cock I've ever seen. I swear.” Looking up at him while fluttering your lashes, you begin to give even more kisses down his length, using your hand to now mix your own spit with his cum. 

Steve has to fight himself to not use his hand to push himself into your mouth, using you as a toy. When you feel like he’s wet enough you let him go completely. Backing up a bit on your knees before sitting down so you’ll be at a good height for him. He’s lucky his seats are leather because you’re quite literally dripping. 

As he lines himself up you push your boobs up and together, to then spit on them. It was lewd, pornagraphic, especially the way you look up at him all innocently. If he had any control left he’d let you tease him a bit, moving your tits around, spreading the spit and seeing it stretch and break when you move. It’s unfortunate he doesn't. 

“You’re perfect. Jesus. So good to me.” 

Instead he guides his length to your boobs, pushing it through the tight space you've created. Because of all the liquid he’s able to move with a good speed, sliding up and down with ease. As he moves you also smoosh your boobs together, trying to make it even tighter for him as you roll them up and down matching his pace. When his tip pokes out from the top you lower your head to lick it. He stutters a bit, going slow for a second or two to really feel your tongue on him before speeding up. 

His head falls back letting you see his neck, moles scattered around begging to be kissed. “Eyes on me baby.” Your voice snaps him out of his moment and he does exactly as you say. Eyes all on you. 

“Not gonna last long. I cant- You’re so hot. Letting me do this to you.” His whining is loud, if someone were outside the car they’d hear– even with the music on. 

“Wish I could do even more Stevie. I’d love to see this pretty dick fill me up, so thick and heavy I could only imagine how full I'd be.” 

Each word eggs him on, making him groan. He’s biting his bottom lip so hard you think he could break the skin. His speed is going even faster, hips thrusting up so fast while also trying not to let his head fall. With the fast motion his hair falls in his face making him push it away, veiny hand in view as he holds onto his own hair, wishing it was you. His other hand holds his length making sure it stays in the same spot. As he feels himself getting closer his hand leaves his hair and stretches to meet the roof of the car. A large palm spread out showing you his bicep that's in full force. Like he’s trying his hardest to push himself up against the roof so he doesn't completely fall once he comes. 

You can feel him twitch between the valley of your breasts. “Fuck, m’close. So god damn close baby.” 

“Come on my tits Steve, it’s what they're here for, just for you to use. Just like this baby.” 

“Yeah? All for me huh? All mine.” He grunts, right on the edge. 

“All yours Steve, no one else.” 

That's what it does for him. The possession, you calling him baby, the way you roll your boobs against him. And even worse when he does come you open your mouth, letting half of it spill down your breasts and the other fill your mouth. White, sticky, ropes of cum all over you, in you, on you. It’s everywhere. 

His hand falls from his dick and goes straight to your hair, grabbing onto it while you wipe your mouth, cleaning where it got on your skin before putting it right back into your mouth. Sucking each finger clean, similarly to how you did with his thumb, making a whole scene of it. 

“I don't think I've ever come that hard in my entire life.” Steve says as he huffs, trying to find any air left in this tiny car. 

Both of you are sticky in sweat and you can even hear how your skin sticks to the leather when you fully melt into the seat. Fully exhausted and tired from the extreme work out you two just did of contorting your bodies to work in the cramped seats. 

“Guess it’s a good thing I came over today?” A laugh comes out of you, reality coming down now that everything is over. 

“I think I need you here again tomorrow.” Steve jokes back. But it’s not a lie, if he had it his way you’d be there tomorrow, and the next day, and even the day after that. 

“If you promise this will happen in a bed with AC on then I might be able to make it happen.” 

“Yeah I think I do that.” He nods, eyes blinking wanting to shut.

You giggle at him and he comes back to life all over again. Picking up your clothes from wherever you threw them. But before you put anything on he takes his shirt and cleans you to the best of his abilities. Giving gentle kisses between each step, trying to help with the come down of it all. It takes a few minutes but somehow you manage to get dressed and clean enough to go back to Steve's place. 

wc: 5.3k

summary: Dustin's new neighbor is really helpful. And once Steve sees you in a bathing suit he starts to wonder if you could be helpful in other ways.

cw: fem!reader, mentions of female anatomy, reader wears a bikini, steves a boob guy (canon), barely there perv!steve (if you squint/wanna call it that), strangers to enemies(?) to lovers, semi-public sex, smut!!, boob sucking, robin almost catching them, lmk if i missed anything!

part 2!!

Being Dustin's neighbor had its pros and cons. 

For example a pro would be his mom making too much food for dinner. Like for some reason her meals were made for a whole family despite it just being her and Dustin. Still, she generously gives you any extra food her and her growing boy hadn't gone through. And who were you to let good food go bad? 

A con would be her talking up a storm while you try to get mail. Or when she knocks on your door with the freshest baked cookies asking if you could babysit her son for the night while she works. Dsutin doesn't really need a babysitter, so smart he could easily spend a night alone. But still he’s a kid and the warm cookies don't hurt. 

So you deal with the more than necessary neighborly duties. And in all honesty, if she didn't knock on your door your night would be spent sitting in front of your tv screen. Which if you put it side by side to your night taking care of Dustin there's not much of a difference. Sure the things you’ll watch on the tv might be different, but at least you have someone to talk to. Living all alone comes with things like that. Nights spent alone, days where you don't talk to anyone at all, and befriending your neighbor who's like 14. 

Days go on all the same. Last week you went to his to babysit and then the day after to cool down since your heater decided to break mid June. It was a whole thing but it was that moment you decided you were thankful that things turned out the way they did. To have a welcoming space you feel safe in when something in your own home goes wrong isn't something to take for granted. 

As far as this week you have nothing to do, but you won't say it outloud, too afraid of jinxing it. And plus it’s important to take things day by day. Today is a tanning day, despite the weather being horrifically warm you've found a loop hole. 

The grass in your front porch has two sprinklers, allowing water to circulate and give the grass some well needed hydration as the sun soaks it all up. The water goes off every thirty minutes, giving you– if you time it right– thirty minutes to get too hot, then have some water splash on you, and with a few rounds of each you will have perfected a day out tanning without dying of heat stroke. Yes it does mean tanning out where people can see you but the street you live on is filled with people just like Dustin's mom, they're either too busy working, or too old to spy on you through the window. 

It’s not like you’re doing anything wrong, just laying in the grass letting the sun soak through your skin. Hopefully getting bronze instead of burnt but you try to be consistent with sunscreen. 

By the end of the week you've been out a couple times tanning. Last time Dustin's friends saw you and said hi which was nice. What you didn't see was Max hitting Lucas’ arm when he was staring for a second too long. 

“You do realize your hot neighbor is half naked out here right?” Lucas poorly whispers, like it's a new fact. And to him it is, not that he should be saying it in front of Max. 

“Y’know I somehow missed that, thanks for letting me know.” Dustin says, shutting the door behind his friend who's being forced inside by his girlfriend. “Of course I know it! And she’s not hot, she's actually really weird and annoying.” He finishes his small rant with crossed arms, like he can't believe his friend even said that about you. His lonely neighbor who has nothing better to do than make costumes for their D&D game nights.  

It wasn't till a few days later when Steve came around. One of Dustin's friends you somehow consistently missed. Either you were working when he was there or busy doing chores with music blasting when his red car honked to get Dustin's attention. Your paths just haven't crossed yet. But that didn't mean Steve hadn't heard of you. 

At first it was Dustin no longer needing to be taken to the arcade, or being picked up for that matter. Next it was not needing to be babysat, which Steve didn't mind that payless job being taken off his hands. But lastly– the one that broke the camels back– was the little kid no longer going to big brave Steve for help or advice. The kid who he had fought monsters next to, the one who begged him for girl help, suddenly didn't need him anymore. 

It hurt Steve more than he’d like to admit. Chalking it up to just liking the attention, the feeling of being needed in that big brother way. Definitely not missing his friend, never that. Although he didn't even need to beg for info as to why Dustin had changed up on him, his loud mouth friends told him with ease. Muttering things about his new neighbor who was too hot to hang out with some dork like Dustin. It had Steve looking at them in the car mirror as he drove Mike, Lucas, Will in the back seat and lucky Max in the passenger seat. Taking the kids to their respective houses. 

“Whos this girl you guys keep talking about?” He tries to say it in a ‘I couldn't care less’ type of tone but the kids know him too well for his own good. Normally his ears are turned off to any conversation the kids have so the fact that he’s paying attention shows he cares. 

“God, keep it in your pants Harrington.” Mike says with an eye roll. 

“Dustins new neighbor.” Max says over Mike's sentence. 

Steve doesn't miss either of their words. Somehow he has become extremely skilled at understanding the kids as they talk over each other. Maybe it’s his brain trying to make peace with the fact that he has to listen to high pitched kids scream all the time. Still he gives Mike a squinted eye look in the rear view mirror. 

He doesn't ask more questions than that about you. Deciding he’ll be at Dustin's house soon enough he can see it with his own two eyes. Better that than letting the kids make their own judgments based off of his one simple question. 

And he was right. 

Dustin ended up needing him to help get ready for a school dance. Apparently a job only good ol’ Steve Harrington could handle. It’s not like you knew how to tame a lion's mane or hype up a nervous kid, trying to give all the right advice. For Steve however, it’s what he did on the daily. 

But what he didn't know– and what his friend failed to tell him– was it was your prime tanning time. With a bikini that would give you a barely there tan line you laid out on your grass. A small radio sat near your front door. Loud enough that you could hear it behind you but not too loud that people would complain. A hat covered your eyes and nose, hiding the sun that was shining down directly on you. Your body glistened easily in the light, already a little bit darker from this new routine. 

When he pulled up into the driveway he almost hit the curb, too busy looking at how your legs looked. Toned in a way only oil and the sun could produce. And as you let them fall back onto the grass he saw the way the straps to your top looked like they could snap in two, and the bottoms allowed him to see just enough to get his brain working. 

It was sick is what it was. Something Steve hoped no one saw, specifically the kids. A little moment he let himself divulge in despite knowing he shouldn't. When he knocks on Henderson's door he’s quick to act like it never even happened. 

Luckily for Steve he was able to have a nice conversation with the kid. Asking about what he’s been up to, why the older friend was no longer needed, and how helpful his new neighbor has been. It took a second for Steve not to let himself get smothered in jealousy, but he was here for a reason right? There was still a use for him in Dustin's life. He wasn't completely exiled just yet, and because of that Steve will be able to sleep at night. 

By the time he was done helping Dustin, ready to drive him to the dance you were gone. Inside, getting cool, he thinks to himself. Maybe showering and washing off the creams you put on to get so shiny and smooth looking. He feels his heart starting to beat wildly in his chest from just thinking about it. You all soapy in the shower, maybe humming a song you heard while outside, afterwards checking yourself out in the mirror to see if the tan lines you’d been working on were starting to come through. And if he bothered to walk up to you and ask, he would've found out you fell asleep. The hat you wore doing wonders on blocking any light, letting you sleep through the reapplication of the sunscreen, allowing the sun to get you in a way that would later lead to a small burn atop your shoulders and chest. 

It was defeating how easily you took over his mind. What would've been a whole car ride of Steve boosting his friend's confidence turned into Dustin snapping his fingers just to get his attention. It’s not like you’d talked to him, or even looked at him for that matter. There was absolutely no reason for Steve to be acting or feeling this way about you. Some girl who he didn't even have a name for. 

Soon enough June became July and Steve was back at Dustin's for a small get together. This time all the kids were there and he offered to come and supervise before anyone even got a chance to ask you about it. 

It was almost humorous how Steve almost ran over that same curb after he spotted you back outside. The bikini you had on this time had little bows on the side of your bottoms, tied to perfection. Instead of a hat covering your face you wore sunglasses. The frame shaped your face well, the lenses were so dark he couldn't even tell what you looked like behind them. 

As he turned into the drive way he quickly dogged your view. You were interested in this red car that kept popping up recently, wanting to see the person getting out of it. Thank goodness for your dark lenses because with them you look like you're just resting, laying with your arms holding your upper body up. In reality your eyes were stuck on the guy getting out of the expensive car with gorgeous hair. 

Steve makes a point to walk to the door with a confident ease. Not wanting to run even though he's 10 minutes late just in case your eyes, that he is convinced he feels on him, watch as he goes into the house. But you should certainly look away when Dustin opens the door and immediately starts yelling at him. Letting him know the importance of being on time ‘at his grown age’ as the kids say. 

The small get together is fun for about two hours, if that. Everyone is relatively nice to each other, he doesn't have to step in too much when one of them gets out of line. Makes him wonder if you yell at them the same way he does. You probably don't, that's why you get invited more than he does. But it doesn't take long for Mike to blame Will for cheating even though Will would never cheat, and Lucas to get too busy kissing on Max that he's practically forfeiting the game. 

With all the yelling and fingers being pointed Steve allows himself a few minutes of quiet time outside. Completely forgetting you're out there until he hears your music. It would be wrong of him to step away from his duties of babysitting to talk to a girl. But you’re only a few steps away and the kids have handled worse than anything from this dimension can bring. He lets himself make his way to you, only then thinking of what he’s even going to say to you. His heart beats so loudly he can hear it in his ears, a consistent noise telling him he's pathetic for getting this worked up over someone he doesn't even know. 

You hear someone near you before you see them, head too busy trying to focus on the music and how annoying it is that the sun breaks through your glasses. 

Still his words scare the ever living shit out of you. 

“Hey.” Steve says with a wave you don't even catch. 

Your yelp is loud, a sound that the kids might've even heard. The hands pressed to your quickly rising chest doesn't make him feel any better. 

“Holy shit I didn't know you were coming over to me.” You mutter, breath still uneven as you pull your sunglasses to rest on your head. One of your eyes is on him and the other is shut tightly, trying to balance out the new amount of sun coming to your vision. 

“M’sorry I scared you, just um, wanted to check on you.” 

“You wanted to check on me?” Your eyes are squinted from the sun being in your face but if it wasn't your features would show how much you don't believe him. 

“Yeah, y’know you were out here when I drove up and then I stepped out and you're still here.” He’s nice enough to move around, trying to get that one spot that will block the sun from you completely. Could be written off as being a gentleman or wanting a good view of your pretty face.

“And you’re worried I’m what? Melting?” Your head cocks with the last word like you know you’re making fun of him to his face but he doesn't back down. 

A quick laugh comes out from him, trying to show you he gets your humor. “Maybe melting, maybe getting a heat stroke, both have similar outcomes.” His back is starting to get really hot from trying to block the sun. 

“I’m fine, you should go back to Dustins.” You respond, putting the shades back down to rest on the bridge of your nose. 

“Hey wait, you’re the one who's been taking over my babysitting duties aren't you?” It’s a cheap shot at trying to continue the conversation despite you trying to end it. It’s easy to get the hint when he solidifies his stance with crossed arms. 

“His mom is really nice so I do favors for her sometimes. No need to get all defensive, Dustin loves hanging with his 30 year old friend.” 

“So I’m actually no where near 30-”

“Arent you supposed to be watching him anyways? Not over here literally stealing the sun away from me.” Now that you aren't looking at him, hands behind your head as a makeshift pillow to resume your tanning, him blocking the sun isn't as helpful as it was 30 seconds ago. 

It’s almost as if you have a special power for pushing him away. Directly after you said it the kids are at the front door screaming for Steve to come back even though a simple yell from one of them across the street would do the trick. With a look to the kids and a look back to you he can see the smirk that rests on your face. Finding it funny how nothing is working out for him. 

“Later, Steve.” You loosely wave. 

And Steve thinks that's it. It's official. You’re evil. Because if you would've cut him loose maybe he could've gotten over it. Lived out the rest of the day without the sound of your voice saying his name stuck in his head. Could've wrangled all the kids together, showing them who's the adult– despite knowing they don't take him seriously – saying how they can't just yell after him like that. But instead he has you saying his name in the most flirtatious manner bouncing around the walls of his brain. Like a song stuck in his head he can't stop replaying over and over. 

His body turns, ready to give in to whatever the kids are yelling at him for but his brain runs a million miles per minute, not letting the things he’s hearing fully move him. It feels like a whole minute of thinking but in reality only seconds pass before you hear his feet shuffle a few steps closer to you then his voice. 

“I’m having a small fourth of July get together tomorrow if you want to come. It’s a pool party so you can bring one of these if you want.” He points to your bikini. 

You have to give it to him. Being practically turned down twice and still going for it is brave. Maybe that's why you give in a little.

Without moving, without looking at him, or pushing the frames away, you decide to bite. “What time?” 

“Party starts at 4, you could even be helpful and bring Dustin with you.” The tone he’s giving you matches the one you gave him earlier perfectly. Sarcastic and a little mean with a slight tease. 

“Hm, maybe.” Because you’re not gonna let him think you're that easy. That you’ll listen to whatever he says, especially with that tone. 

With that he finally makes his way back to the kids, satisfied with the work he’s done. Once he steps into Dustin's house the kids are all over him asking brand new questions they didn't have a moment ago, before he deliberately ignored them just to talk to you more. 

“So what was that all about? Were you trying to make her stop coming over?” Dustin shouts, knowing Steve had to have messed something up.

“The only man to ever think with anything but his heart.” Mike tsks with a simple shake of his head and a hand to his own heart. As if he's the old and wise one. 

“We know what he was thinking with.” Lucas quips back, giving Mike a big grin. Fist bump ready at his own joke that he shouldn't understand in the first place. 

“His brain?” El questions.

“Exactly El.” Will pitifully smiles at her with a hand on her shoulder. Saddened by the fact that these are the people she has to deal with. 

Steve puts a finger up in the air ready to point at them with the other hand on his hip, a mom pose for sure. “Listen losers, she’s coming over tomorrow for the party. If you say, actually no, if you even mutter a single thing to make me look bad, your ass is grass. You’re dead, you got me?” His thick brows raise and his big eyes get bigger, trying to really seal the deal that he’s serious about this. 

The kids however, they just roll their eyes and grumble yes’s and nod along. Like they would ever make a whole plan over him and some girl coming over. Or better yet, actually listen to him. It’s almost comical how quickly they get over what Steve was doing with the neighbor and focus back on the real reason he was called after in the first place. With your voice stuck in his head and the kids voices coming through his ears he feels ready to go back outside for a well needed break all over again. 

The party comes quickly. Steve starts his day making sure the house is spotless. Even though it always is, thanks to the absence of his parents, the house barely looks lived in but he still cleans what he can anyways. By afternoon he calls it good enough and starts setting up for the party, lazily putting streamers and balloons in corners or where there's empty space. His calling isn't for decorative design that's for sure but the vibes are all there nonetheless.  About 20 minutes before the party is set to start Robin comes allowing Steve to get himself ready while she sets the food up. They work as a pretty good team to get everything situated, Robin calls off things that should be out and Steve checks them off by pointing to where they are.

Half of the group comes first, filling in the home with ease due to how often they come by. Mike, El, Will, Nancy, and Jonathan come together since they all live closer to each other. Plus wherever Nance goes Jonathan follows. Minutes later Lucas follows hand in hand with Max, not even knocking on the door simply letting themselves in. 

4;15pm comes too quickly and you and Dustin still weren't there. The fact that Dustin wasn't present gave Steve a sick amount of hope that you were coming. Fashionably late maybe but still you’d show up. But there was also a part of him that knew it could just be his mom taking her sweet time bringing him over. He tries to busy himself with getting everyone drinks, opening up the back door so the kids could start getting in the pool. 

Right before he goes out the door himself– trying to district himself by sitting at the edge of the pool– he hears Dustin's voice, loud and clear in an upset tone. 

“Have you ever heard of hurrying up? Time management? Being somewhere when you need to be there?” 

“We get it, you don't go to any parties. So here's a tip, no one ever arrives exactly when it starts.” You bend down slightly bumping your shoulder with his as you roll your eyes. 

The kid makes his way through Steve's house with ease and you try to stay close enough behind, not familiar with the layout. It’s like he forgets you’re even there because he stops right where the hallway meets the kitchen, making you basically flat tire him. Within a second you push him aside, derailing from your horrible leader. 

“Well look who decided to show up.” Steve is missing a t- shirt, only wearing swimtrunks and it would be a lie to say you didn't feel your cheeks slightly warm up at the sight. 

“I never said no.” You shrug. 

“Never said yes.” 

“Guess you should count yourself lucky I'm here then huh?” You give his bare shoulder a squeeze before moving past him to look at the food the kids have already mauled through. 

Steve can't tell if his shoulder is burning from his few seconds out in the sun or from your simple touch, more so a gesture to get him to move but still. The skin on skin contact was enough to set fire in his shoulder, spreading to the rest of his body. 

Your back is turned to him as you pick at some of the fruit. “You want me to get you a drink?” He asks from behind you. A little too close due to the fact that you just met him yesterday but the tension is strong enough that it almost doesn't feel close enough. 

You simply nod at him, cheeks stuffed with sweet strawberries. The slight movement makes your shirt slip down your shoulder, the fabric there long since cut away. Bare skin shows along with a bathing suit he hasn't seen on you yet. It’s a nice red color that works well with your skin tone, could match the hint of your cheeks that you hope isn't showing as bad as it feels. 

A cold beer is handed to you, as he starts to open his own. It takes only a few seconds till he clinks his beer to yours before he gestures his hand forward, wanting you to go in front of him. Again could be a nice well taught manner or an excuse to see your ass in the small shorts you have on. Instinctively you do as he says, walking ahead of him and waving to the kids you’ve already met before. 

Steve even goes as far as to put his hand on the small of your back, leading you to the older teens that are there with their own respective drinks. The heat of the moment hits you, wanting to look good for the new people you're meeting, not expecting him to touch you like this, and being unable to give him a surprised look. So you greet them and introduce yourself like you can't still feel the warmth of his large hand resting on your back. When he moves to grab you a chair he even puts his hands slightly above your hips to move you away. All touchy and handsy for someone who only had the balls to invite you to this party just yesterday. 

If these weren't Steve's closest friends it could almost be read as you two being a couple. Your chair being directly next to his, him waiting for you to sit in it before he even lets himself sit in his, continuously asking if you're okay when you get quiet. It’s all a lot. Plus the heat beaming down on you mixed with the fact that he’s shirtless adds tremendously to it. His chest hair paired with his tan skin that's littered with moles could have you drooling, shutting your thighs together. 

Although he’s not the only one playing with fire. When you need another drink you squeeze his bicep to get his attention, and your voice is sugary sweet as you ask him to get you one. And when he comes back with it you put your hand high up on his thigh as a thank you, even leaving it there for a few painful seconds too long. To then press the cool drink to your neck and give a soft moan of relief. 

What completely does it for Steve is when you take your shirt off, complaining of the heat and he sees your bathing suit. Still a two piece bathing suit, one that's got more coverage than the last few he’s seen you in. Knowing kids and people you don't know will be present but the red bra still fits you like a dream. Boobs cupped in fabric and wire for support that does just enough for the boy next to you. And it doesn't take a genius to notice he's eyeing them either. You can feel it. 

As he tries to pull his eyes away needing to look at something else– anything else– he goes for your face, or your eyes rather. Except yours are already set right on him. Catching him in what he was doing, going from boobs to your lips to your eyes. Like a snake slithering and traveling up your body. 

Before he knows it one second your hand interlocks with his and the next you’re pulling him into his own house. 

The older teens are too busy talking already a few drinks deep and the kids have tired eyes, burning from trying to look under water even though Steve has repeatedly told them not to do it because the pool has chlorine in it. Leaving you two to be able to slip away almost too easily. 

“Jesus what– what’re you doing?” He’s already out of breath, first from being dragged away and second from how thick the tension has become. Built in the last few hours you've been here. 

“I saw you.” You’re practically backing him into the wall by the kitchen. It’s hidden from anyone if they tried to peek inside but the two of you aren't locked away from anyone. 

Steve knows what you mean but he feels sick at the fact that you caught him so easily. That his need was written so clearly on his face. “You were practically shoving them in my face. What was I supposed to do?” 

“Funny, acting like that’s not all you've been doing since the first time you saw me. You’re not as slick as you think.” With each back and forth comment you both make the closer you become. One more word and your chest he’s been stuck on will touch his. 

“Yeah well when you wear stuff like that things happen.” 

You should hit him. Tell him how awful he is to say something like that, especially if he wants something out of you. But instead the space between you closes and your lips meet his. There’s a millisecond of shock from Steve before he's kissing you back. All teeth and spit, messy and quick like he’s scared it might not last. His hands are quick to reach your hips, slowly but surely making his way round to your ass where you still have those stupid, barely there, little shorts on. 

Before anything happens Steve flips your position. His tongue presses against your lips, begging asking to be let in, you grab his hands to pull them to your boobs. Your back arches off the wall, body trying to find some satisfaction in all this touching he's doing. Focusing on your tongue fighting with his and trying to pull your top down so he can finally have his way. Right hand grasping onto you and lightly pulling as the other pinches your nipple, making you squeal and momentarily disconnect your lips from his.

 Your breaths merge, becoming one from how close you two are before he moves his head down. Moans slip past your lips with ease as he takes his time to kiss below your jaw, to your neck, lips finding their way to your collar bone, before reaching where he’s been so desperately looking. Sucking gently on your nipple as he massages the other one. 

His knee forces your legs apart, and you let your knees bend to fully sit on his thigh. Trapped between his grip, mouth, and knee. Your brain feels empty, creating zero thoughts besides how good what he’s doing to you feels. Instead of thoughts your body reacts, trying to grind and make friction on his thigh you were touching up on earlier. It gets a groan out of him as well, letting go of your boobs to wrap his hands around your jaw to properly kiss you. When he pulls away a string of saliva stretched between both of your lips before breaking. The sound of the door is loud and Robin's voice follows after it. 

“Steve hurry up, we need your help, the kids won't stop splashing us!” She shouts quickly, like there's a race against time that is not on her side. The door shuts loudly following silence, letting you know she's left. 

With heavy breaths he brings the straps of your top back onto your shoulders, fixing it so it doesn't look like he was anywhere near you. Following that he presses a few gentle kisses to your lips, not wanting to leave you thinking this was just some casual mistake. 

“Guess duty calls huh?” A small squeeze is given to your hip before he grabs your hand to go back outside, dropping it just before anyone would notice. 

“Hey! What’d I say about splashing the water outta the pool? Huh?” 

wc: 2.3k

summary: Your favorite nights are the ones spent relaxing and sharing stories—especially when Steve talks about the first time he saw you!

cw: fluffy fluff!!!!!, based off of 'so high school' by taylor swift :3, fem!r, mentions of drinking wine, alluring to smut (blink and you'll miss it) but none!, mentions of having the flu, lmk if i missed anything!

a/n: wow two posts in one month.. told you guys this is my come back!!

Saturdays are made for nights like tonight. Just you and Steve on the couch, a glass of wine in hand, and a movie neither of you are watching in the background. 

You really did want to watch the movie, maybe when you have a night to yourself you’ll put it back on. But right now, with this grape juice flowing through you and Steve’s free hand rubbing gently on your calf it’s kinda hard. He’s telling you about his day hanging out with Dustin, being so dramatic with his hand movements he almost let his wine slip from the glass. 

“He was asking for help with some girl and I was trying to give him real advice but he never took it seriously. It’s like he knows just which buttons to push.” The complaint is finished with the glass to his lips, taking a nice sip that he can only hope would wash away the irritation from just simply revisiting this hang out. 

“Well what did you say to him?” 

“He asked how I knew I wanted to ask you out. And I just told him I knew from the first time I saw you and he just laughed.” 

“Tell me about the first time you saw me, what were you thinking?” You ask, biting your lip. Clearly this just went from a story of Dustin needing help to something about you and Steve. It’s a story you two have never really exchanged, your thoughts on each other before the dates started. 

He snuggles into you just the same, ready for this story time, also interested in your story after his. “Well I thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world and that you were way out of my league. Then you asked me for help finding a movie and you laughed at my joke, it was like I fell in love right then and there.” 

“You fell in love because I laughed at your joke?” 

“Well it helped you thought I was funny but no. It was everything about you, the pretty dress you had on, how sweet your laugh sounds– like honey sweet. And, well, I just had this feeling like I had to get to know you more, y'know? Like if I spent another day without you around it would be a life wasted.”

You are pretty sure your feelings are plastered directly on your face right now. Cheeks pink and a smile so wide it’s hurting your jaw. His story has you trying to get even closer to him despite your extreme closeness already, any more and you’ll be on his lap. You press a few quick kisses to his lips, needing to put this burst of love somewhere. 

“Is that why you call me honey?” You ask, taking note of how he described your laugh.

“Mm yeah, one of the many reasons.” There's a smug look on his face that has you scared but also interested. “Y’sound like honey, taste like honey..”

Your jaw drops as your hand immediately goes to hit his arm. Or his bicep specifically, strong and sturdy the second your fingers land on him. The fit of giggles he goes into from your reaction is enough to make you give up the shocked act and laugh with him. It’s crazy how quickly he can have the softest doe eyes that make you swoon to the most boyish grin in seconds. Even the thought of it brings you back down, laughter replaced by thoughts of just how lucky you are to have someone like him. If you let yourself think too hard about it you could burst into tears. 

“I felt the exact same.” You tell him, words still sheepish and cheeks still on fire. 

“Really?” Steve isn't actually that surprised but still his warm eyes and soft smile gets his point across. 

“Mhm. I remember walking in and you were talking to Robin. But even seeing you with your back towards me just hearing your voice I knew I had to find a way to talk to you.” 

“Oh looking at my backside did it for ya, huh?” He teases. 

“It always does it for me.” You respond so smoothly and full of confidence you could almost see the pink from his cheeks spread to his ears. 

“So then what you just asked me a question for no reason other than to start a conversation with me?” 

“Pretty much. I mean who wants help picking a movie? I knew what I wanted going in there but pretending I didn't was all that came to my mind as to how I could talk to you.” 

“Thats nice to know the first time we talked was because you're a big fat liar.” Steve says giving your cheek a kiss. 

“Yeah yeah, whatever! I just thought you looked really handsome and you were so kind to help me so diligently over something so simple. I mean, if you care about which movie I watched that much you must be someone I should get to know. And you just showed how great you were with just one conversation.” All of this talking has you putting your hand on Steve now, scratching your nails along his arm. “You are just addicting. I don't know what else to tell you.” You shrug, keeping your focus on his arm. 

“Wow addicting huh? Make me sound like a real standup guy.” He puts your glasses of wine on the table, needing something to do before bursting into flames right in front of you. 

“You’re perfect Steve. Wouldn't ask for anything different or any changes. Just you forever and ever.” 

“Stop it honey, butterin’ me up so sweet. Got me feeling like some 16 year old.” Steve just gives your knuckles a bunch of kisses in hopes of it covering how flushed he is by your words. 

“Well you make me feel like I'm in high school again, got the world's worst crush on you.”

“Well that's good or else I’d be hopelessly in love pining over some girl.” 

Your jaw drops dramatically for the second time tonight, maybe Steve is spreading his dramatics to you. “Excuse me, ‘some girl’?” Steve's eyes go wide at your antics, almost believing them to be real for a split second. 

“Didn’t you hear the hopelessly in love part?” He gives your leg on his lap a slight squeeze, giving into you anyway he knows how. You get over it the second he does it and let your head rest on his shoulder. 

Steve doesn't know how comfortable you are right now with both your legs over his lap, your side glued to him, and your head on his shoulder. He thinks you'd have a better time actually just sitting on him and then going for a hug if you wanted to be inside his skin like this but you don't move so neither does he. A second of comfortable silence passes, both of you now satisfied after hearing each other's stories. But his words only string you on more and more. 

“When did you know you were in love with me?” You’ve heard the story of how Steve knew he was gonna tell you he loved you, that was on another night similar to this one. Except both of you were in his bed, chests sticky of sweat and hearts beating fast after him basically ripping your dress off of you– the one you bought specifically for a date. A night that ended with stories that led to sleepy eyes and dreams of one another. 

“If you’d believe me if I said the minute I saw you then I’d say that but I know you too well.” The barely there eye roll you give him tells him that he's exactly right. “It’s hard to choose just one. I remember there being so many moments of being like ‘wow I am in love this girl’ but I think the one where I felt it so hard I almost just bursted out and said it was when we had our crazy road trip to the lake.” 

You know exactly what he’s talking about the second he says it. A little into the beginning of your relationship you and Steve went to a lake about two ish hours away from Hawkins. Both of you were busy being babysitters for the kids you thought it would be a nice thing to get away, have some one on one time being a new couple– basking in the honeymoon phase y’know? On the way there Steve got a flat tire and had to change it out. Which in the July heat was actually hell and it was the first time he’d ever been anything but happy and smiley around you. 

After a quick string of curses left his mouth he went out to go and fix it. The flat wheel was on your side and with an open passenger door you could see him angrily slam his foot against the wrench trying to loosen the bolts. It wasn't like he lost his temper but you could feel the disappointment radiate off of him. So worried about messing up your trip, even though it was barely even a trip. With jokes and sweet praises he made it through with a new tire that was ready to take you both to the lake. Steve thinks without you there he probably would’ve left with a dent in his car door from how annoyed he was. 

It was the way you said the right thing each time. If he was struggling getting a bolt loose and feeling embarrassed for not making it look easier you’d give him a compliment on how thankful you are for him because you’d be completely and utterly stuck there without him. And when he had a grumpy attitude from getting all gross from the heat you’d drench a small towel in water and cool him down. Despite him not being able to keep his charm on, letting the little things get to him, you didn't mind or complain one bit. It would've been easy to. Easy to say he was taking too long or that you could call a professional. Instead the day continued like it would have if that didn't happen. You were a perfect match for him in that moment when he needed it most. 

It’s easy to recall that day, letting the memories flood back to you. “That was a good day. We should do that again.” 

“I agree, just without the flat tire.” He jokes, giving your hairline a small kiss. “What about you? When did you know?” 

This one was easy for you, it’s a memory that comes to you quite often. “It was when I got sick and you stayed with me for the whole weekend.” 

“Oh my god, that was so awful. Just seeing you so sick broke my heart.” His words make you smile in a sorta twisted way because although he’s telling you something that made him sad it’s just another reason how you knew you loved him. 

Again, early into your relationship, so early that he must've asked you out like just barely a month ago at that point. But you had the flu. From where? God knows. But you were extremely sick, like a pale and sweaty type of sick. Definitely not something you want your new perfect boyfriend to see. 

After a whole day of not answering Steve's calls he decides to come over. A big risk for someone who had never shown up unannounced before but it was a good thing he did. Because when he stepped into your place it looked untouched, like you hadn't even been there. Only once he went to your room he found you hidden under a thousand blankets and tissues. The second he made himself known you broke down in tears, the overwhelming feeling of being sick completely draining you. And if you were even a little bit more coherent and aware you’d have a complete meltdown of him seeing you like this.

A first for Steve to see you not completely dolled up and ready for him. Instead your hair was in a pony tail that had every baby hair slicked down by sweat and red eyes that let him know this wasn't your first time crying about how awful you felt. He let you know over and over again that he was there to stay, not once leaving you unless it was to heat up soup or get you medicine– which he had to completely gentle parent you on by the way. 

No one had ever taken such good care of you until Steve. So doting and loving despite you telling him to go so he wouldn't catch what you caught. When the medicine said to get another dose every six hours he lived by that like it was a law. Making an alarm so he would be right on time, even if it meant waking you up at 4am. The system Steve made was unbreakable, it’s how he managed to bring you back to life by the end of the weekend. Still needing meds but not rotting in bed sick. You’d like to think what really healed you was the love and care he gave, that and the cuddles of course. 

“You just took such good care of me, you never really know early in relationships how the other person will act when you aren't 100%. It was nice to know you weren't going anywhere.” 

“Taking care of you will be my number one job forever.” This time you're the one giving him a kiss, right on the column of his neck. “Here I was thinking you were gonna say something like when I get the car door for you or something.” 

wc: 4.1k

summary: Steve thinks it's best keeping your relationship a secret, but what if you dont feel the same?

cw: hurt/comfort, fighting, happy ending, season 5 cannonish just a little change to make the story work! , fluff, fem!r, lmk if i missed anything <3

a/n: hi guys!!! here for my monthly post :P no but in all seriousness im gonna try really hard to get back to writing more frequently!!! I Swear!!!!!! enjoy this for now :)

The whole group already knew you two liked each other. 

It was the way the two of you naturally gravitated towards each other. At first you came along with Robin, not originally being someone who was supposed to be part of the group. But over time Robin wasn't anywhere without Steve and you weren't anywhere without Robin. It also helped that you all got along really well. 

Off the bat it was a friendship, something important to all those involved. For Robin it was nice to see her two friends get along but for you and Steve, it was something different. The way you were both a step towards a blurry line of friendship and something more. Starting by hanging out without Robin, then having sleepovers that consisted of the two of you sleeping in his bed. It was like a snowball effect, once it started it didn't stop. 

That's how you ended up with Steve driving you home after your first date. 

He had asked you out for dinner a few nights ago after your weekly movie night had ended. When you were both extremely tired and fighting to stay awake. Throughout the whole movie your head had rested on his shoulder and his hand on your knee that pressed against his. It was all he thought about, if he’s honest he probably couldn't even tell you what the plot was, his mind was focused on one thing. Asking you out, crossing the line, possibly messing up the best thing he’s ever had. 

But luckily with sleepy eyes and zero awareness of how things will change in that moment– you said yes. Your half awake brain not giving you a second to think about how insane of a question that actually is. Steve Harrington asking you out after a year of dancing around each other. You‘d like to think if he asked you before the movie he would've gotten a more exciting response. But this is Steve, your Steve, the guy who knows everything about you already. Maybe that's why your brain is fine with powering off around him and saying yes to things you haven't even thought over fully. 

After all, the reality of this sticking and working out was Steve's biggest worry. The sticking part. How long you two would be together and if this was lust or something more, something real. Because if it doesn't stick and Steve crashes and burns then you’re no longer going to want to see him, which means you won't see Robin. It’s all connected in a very serious way that means this can't be a fling, can't be a one time thing, it has to hold weight. So much so that both of you are held down by it, keeping you in place. 

It was a real concern, so real it’s what kept you two away from the idea of dating this whole time. Although that’s what makes him asking you out that much more serious. Because if he’s asking it’s only because he simply can't hold onto it any longer, he can't pretend nothing is there, the feeling is just that intense. And in the morning when you woke up to a voicemail from Steve reminding you of said date is when you fully became aware of what had happened. You went from sleeping to screaming into your pillow and kicking your feet at how insane it was. 

Throughout the whole date with Steve you felt the same way. Butterflies taking over your whole body, your legs feeling like they could take you a hundred miles an hour, and the burning sensation of his warm hand on the small of your back. It was all overwhelming and grounding at the same time. As if two things couldn't be true at the same time yet they were because it was Steve. 

By the second date it felt a little bit more natural. It was at a cafe you two frequented, a familiar place that didn't have you feeling like you had to eat nicely in front of him. It’s silly how strong the need to be perfect in front of him is, like he hasn't seen you at your worst throughout this whole time he’s known you. Like you are going through meeting him all over again, trying to come off as one way despite him knowing you as another. 

This cafe was nice, one of your favorite spots in Hawkins. It was never crazy busy, you two are always able to get the same spot each time. And just like any other time you put your leg over his thighs as he rubs little circles on your ankle. A routine that now in a new light felt very intense and more than him comforting you. How silly that your normal habits feel more significant now that you two aren't just friends. Habits that you would normally build up to in a relationship already sewn into your dynamic. 

By the end of that date, right when you both reached your doorstep, he asked if he could kiss you. Within seconds you agreed and possibly even quicker than that he leaned in and did it. The first kiss was quick, like you two were testing the waters even though you both wanted it so badly. Although it didn't take long for him to lean back in for more, suddenly obsessed with the new found freedom. Finally reaching the point you have waited so long for. 

The third date was already planned in Steve's mind. He’d ask you to come over for dinner and a movie. Impress you with his cooking skills– he can only make two things– and end the night cuddling, maybe sneaking a makeout session in here and there if he's lucky. It felt easy and yet a perfect date. 

That was until the crawls started up. 

Each week you two now had other things to do and other plans taking up your days. Instead of ending the night with front porch kisses you were lucky if he was able to drive you back home. Not only was what you started new but it didn't have boundaries or rules. There hadn't been time to ask if you wanted to share with the group you two were going out or if you wanted to be all coupley in public. So many unknowns that had no time to be answered, the stress of Vecna and the safety of everyone being more important. 

In other words it felt like a big pause to your plans. Stopping something before it even had a real chance to begin. And with the lack of dates or one on one time with Steve it felt like you were back at square one. Possibly even worse than that because now you know what it’s like to be with him. 

You know he loves splitting both of whatever you two are eating, loves having a hand on you– whether it's on the small of your back or in your jean loop, loves telling you when you're in his dream and how real it felt. Of course it wasn't like you two haven't been speaking at all during the crawls but it’s not like you can talk about the things that you need to talk about. 

But then somehow someway for the first time this whole week you and Steve are actually alone together. Jonathan, Nancy, and Murray are outside. Will and Robin are currently at the hospital trying to nicely cancel on Vickie and making up an excuse so she doesn't break up with her mid explanation. And Mike, Lucas and Dustin are trying to get Erica to talk to the Turnbows. You and Steve are sitting on a couch down in the basement of the Squawk, you didn't even realise you were completely alone until Steve told you how nice the quiet was. 

“I feel like I’ve been trying to get you alone since this whole thing started.” Steve says, it comes out in a slight whisper like it's a secret. His hand is on your thigh, a simple touch that he can pull away from if anyone were to come down. 

“Oh you wanted me alone huh?” It’s hard not to tease him– especially when you've been around high schoolers, you swear it’s like their humor bleeds into your own. 

Steve gives it to you and lets his head fall back on the couch with a laugh. The joke dies out pretty quickly though, and you let it. With a quick look around to really make sure no one is coming, you let yourself cuddle up next to him. Your head rests on his shoulder and your hand intertwines with his as it lays on his lap. He lets himself indulge as well, giving kisses to the top of your head and your temple. 

“I wish we could have finished what we started before all of this.” He murmurs into the crown of your head, his voice softened and indistinct. 

“Me too. I mean we barely got to talk about the group or anything.” 

Steve thinks there might not be a good next time. That maybe the next time the two of you are alone it will be in another week or even more. He’ll have to keep all this in till then and waste time with unspoken words, letting the lack of communication ruin you both slowly. 

“I think we keep this a secret from everyone.” He starts. 

It’s enough to have you sit up, removing yourself from his hold. “A secret? For how long?” It sounds awful the way he says it. 

“Just until we are sure about us, you know? I don't want the group pressuring us about anything and it all being too much.” 

“What about us are you not sure about? And they already tease us about it already.” 

It’s embarrassing how quickly he’s fucking this up. How easily you are using his words against him in a way he didn't mean for them to come out. Your brows are furrowed, creating two angry lines that tell him exactly how much his words are messing things up. 

“No I- that didn't come out right. Of course I’m sure it’s just Robin and her questions and the kids being weird about it. I dunno, I just think we need to be more solid before we tell everyone.” 

“We wouldn't even be acting that much different from how we normally do.” It’s all you can say because what you’re hearing is not something you want to verbalize. Words you don't want to go past your teeth and hear how they sound blunt and to the point. 

“I know.” This is going so much worse than he thought. Nothing is being said right which can't happen because there isn't much time for it to be fixed. 

A need to get up and move around separates you two. Your hand that was once in his is now picking anxiously at your other hand. “So what are you saying? Is this just some hook up for you? Are you with me just to fuck or something?” 

Steve can see the wheels turning in your head as you pace around the room. “No, no, that's not what I'm saying. This is more than that. And I mean would it be better if it stayed between you and I for right now? Yeah I think so. But obviously not for long just-”

The loud sound of the metal storage unit upstairs rings through the whole room, cement walls allowing the sound to echo. Nancy comes down first, not even noticing how the tension in the room could be cut with a knife. Then follows Jonthan and Murray, the two talk but it dies out once they reach you and Steve. 

Unfortunately the guys see your stance, how far you separated yourself from Steve and how he is rubbing his temples. It’s obvious a conversation of some sort happened and Murray is the first to speak about it.

“Man what happened down here?Was Stevie late to pick up his girlfriend today?” He mocks playfully. 

What he doesn't know is that is the last straw for you. Because while Steve wants to keep this hidden half the group already knows. They tease you about it everyday, so for him to be worried about it doubling is well.. Bullshit. It’s complete bullshit and a lame excuse. 

The comment is the last thing you hear before you turn and b line towards Nance, wanting anyone or anything else to take up your time. And this is what does it for Steve. Because for some reason he simply can't do anything right. Between his issues with Dustin, and Jonthan on his back the last thing he needs is for you to go to everyone but him. 

If you weren't so upset with him you’d probably realize this as well. Anything involving Steve is always at the forefront of your brain. Especially if it has to do with how much of a hard time he’s had lately. But unfortunately for him, you’re trying your very best to not think anything of him. Trying so hard to not spiral thinking about his words. Like what he might've meant to say but didn't get there exactly. Giving him the benefit of the doubt as always.

Despite that feeling, a bigger one radiates off of you– disappointment. Because to you Steve really can't do anything wrong. Sure he can be a little slow for certain things and too sassy about others but overall he's the only person who you can't get enough of. Well– really that was till you found out that he’d rather create space between you two rather than being upfront and honest about something the whole group already knows about. 

It’s a sick type of feeling to not understand why he feels this way. Was he embarrassed to be with you like that? Is it that you’re such a close friend he couldn't simply imagine introducing you as something more to his friends? All these unknown questions loom around you like a big dark cloud, so dark you think other people might be able to see it too. 

–

This is how the next week continues. Steve being stuck with Dustin despite both of their complaints and you going with anyone who isn't Steve. It slightly messes things up, just because almost everyone has a pair they stick to. Nancy has Jonathan, Lucas has Max, Mike has Will. It’s a well oiled system between the group. But now with Steve only having a few people in his corner the pairings are off. 

That's what you expected to happen today. Also known as day 8 of barely speaking to Steve. Not glancing at him from across the room, not talking to him unless necessary, and definitely not driving around with him. You don't think your car has ever been used so much before.

Although when you get to the Squawk some things have changed and some people aren't there. Kinda sorta like the person you need for ignoring Steve. Dustin. 

He hasn't shown up and it’s 30 minutes past the time he was supposed to show. Half of the group is off already doing their part while you, Steve, Nancy, and Jonthan are left behind. In reality it’s you getting there late because you don't have Steve keeping you on time, Steve waiting on the kid he hates the most right now, and Nancy being so much of a control freak that she has to keep her and Jonathan behind. It’s certainly a recipe for disaster in the basement of the radio store. 

“Alright screw it, he’s not coming. You’re gonna have to go with Steve.” Nancy says, looking at you. 

It’s weird how your brain was almost going to say the most pleasant ‘okay’. Like a second nature thing you almost let slip. But Steve's big round eyes going wide was enough to stop your mouth from letting any sound out. 

“I can go alone, I’ll just park to the side if I hear something.” His plan won't work, obviously, he’s letting whatever come out of his mouth. Anything to not be near you, it stings as much as salt on an open wound. 

“Forget that, I’ll just sit in the back. Let’s go.” You mutter as you stand up, trying to get this over with as quickly as possible. 

“Are you sure I mean-” 

“Yeah, is that an issue?” It’s passive aggressive, barbed politeness. 

“Nope. Not an issue for me at all.” Unlike you Steve says his words with real care. You can feel the olive branch grow towards you already but it’s not like you were the one who made him upset. 

The two of you split up with Nancy and Jonathan, trying to quickly catch up for lost time. While you sit in the back you have headphones covering one of your ears trying to listen for sound while the other is out for your walkie talkie. Just in case Dustin comes through and sets you free. 

This might be the first time in your entire friendship that you feel awkward with Steve. Ever since you met him it’s been a flow of consistency, up until now. It’s a weird feeling to not be able to bring anything up. You almost wish he would just say something to get the awkwardness out of the way. With you in the back of the van and him looking at you every other minute through the rearview mirror you’re already regretting agreeing so quickly to this. 

But in the peak of the deadly silence your headphones cut out. “Wait, stop for a sec. The sounds gone.”

If you were mean and bitter you’d get on him about how aggressively he stopped the van, making you launch forward a bit. However, you won't make it far tonight if you bring things like that up. Still he keeps his foot on the break waiting for your ok. Also making the first real eye contact of the night. 

When Steve sees the relief come back to your face he knows the sounds back. He gives a quick thumbs up with raised brows and a small ask of ‘is it good?.’ You respond with your own thumbs up and a small smile. Maybe your own olive branch. The hour of silence must've made something click for you Steve thinks. But before it gets back to the awkward stage both of you speak up. 

“Thanks for stopping.”

“Can we talk?” 

Each sentence comes out at the same time. Layering on top of each other in a way that doesn't help the awkwardness. 

“Wait what did you say?” Steve asks. 

“I just said thanks, y’know for stopping and waiting.” Really you don't need to be thanking him, what else would he have done? 

“Yeah, of course.” He responds with a quick nod, almost like if he nods quickly you'll get to his question. 

“What did you say?”

Finally you look back at him. Your whole body is facing him and he can see how you're sitting closer to the seat, a result of his harsh stop, but still you didn't move away. The question stuns him for a second because he isn't sure how he had the balls to ask that in the first place and now he has to ask it again. 

“I asked if we could talk.” The van is still not moving, you’ll have to remind him of the task at hand. 

“Yeah, we can talk.”

The response is open ended. You don't want to ask what the topic of conversation will be. If you’re lucky enough he’ll just talk about where Dustin might be, because despite his anger with him the safety of his friend matters more. 

“Nothing I said that day was said right. I wasn't telling you exactly how I felt and it just made everything worse. I should've been more upfront with what I meant because now you hate me and I’ve ruined everything.” His words almost come out in one breath. He’s lucky his brain was able to catch up to his lips. 

“I don't hate you Steve.” You say with a sigh. “But I feel like you were pretty clear, you don't want anyone to know about us.” It feels like acid on your tongue coming out. Like reality is hitting you in the face all over again.

“No, see I wasn't clear. I do want people to know about us. If I could tell the world about us I would.” It’s bad how he puts the van in park and turns his body completely towards you. But you like what you’re hearing too much to tell him otherwise. “I was just scared. I-I like you so much I didn't want to ruin it and somehow I did by trying not to.” 

You can't help but smile at his words, letting a laugh slip past. It’s the most Steve thing ever to try to do something good for you but somehow mess it up in the process. Unable to get it right on the first try, too busy in his head for anything to happen naturally. 

“So you don't want to hide it from the group?" It comes out quietly, afraid you’ve gotten his word wrong for the second time. 

“No. I don't want to hide it. I just want this to be perfect. I want us to work out so badly I’m so scared of what we have going away.”

Steve feels so far from you despite being a few feet away. Letting himself get on your level– sitting on the floor of the van, grabbing both your hands in his. And by some miracle you let him. Scooting just a tiny bit closer that your knees touch. To say you’ve missed this is the understatement of the year. 

“I feel the same way, but we can't hold ourselves back just to keep things safe. We have to make mistakes together and learn from whatever comes up y’know?” The way you tilt your head makes Steve want to punch himself in the face for not talking to you sooner. Depriving himself of all of this is his biggest regret. 

“Yeah, yeah I know.” His smile is so big he has to give your knuckles kisses just to do something with it. Even hearing your giggle makes him feel woozy. 

The second he lets go of your hands you wrap your arms around his neck. Not being able to touch him like this has been the hardest thing. And you can tell Steve feels the same when he groans into your neck, arms so tightly wrapped around your torso as if he’s afraid you’re gonna run away any second. 

You follow suit and lay your head on his shoulder, giving his neck small kisses. “Are we okay?” You ask, breaking only for a second.  

“Yeah angel, we're okay.” 

There's a beat of silence before you speak up again. 

“I think if we don't get back to tracking the group might kill us both.” 

Steve laughs, letting you go but still keeping a hand on your thigh. “Yeah I think you might be right.” 

He gets up first, having to bend over a good amount to not hit his head on the roof. His hand is held out for you to grab onto, when you do you copy his hunched over posture. Both of you sit in the front but you grab the headphones to keep track. The signals won't change much till you're out of the neighborhood. 

As you buckle the seatbelt and Steve starts putting the van back in drive you start to see something in the distance. The late night doesn't do you any favors but it’s enough to make you tap Steve's arm. You’ve seen too much to ignore something in the distance like this. 

“Is that a person?” Call it unresolved trauma or worry over your fellow community Steve still takes you 100% seriously. Looking out the window with the same confused face you have on. 

It wasn't till he turned on his brights on the van that you could make out the person. 

Just a few feet ahead of you stands Dustin, shirt bloody and face bruised. His hand goes to cover his face, the lights momentarily blinding him. It makes it hard to see what's happened but you get out of the car before you get a second longer to think about it. 

Steve– still as petty as ever– stays in the car. Worried but not enough since he’s walking around and now has you by him.