harringtons-cupid

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gator that likes ass play

I already have a few fics that contain this kink but I love this idea either way <3

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okay so Joe Keery characters for Fuck, Marry, Kill! - Gator, Steve, or Keys ???

Omg!!!

Fuck: Gator

Marry: Steve

Kill: Keys :(

- hang out with me

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oookay so who's gonna take one for the team and have a sloppy makeout session with me where we're both high as fuck just grinding on each other for hours until we're both stupid and needy ahaha

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Atta boy <3

ok but gator being obsessed with marks. any marks but just MARKS. leaving proof on your body that he was there and that he owns it. hickey’s, bite marks, handprints dug into your hips—he can’t help himself, it’s like an itch he has to scratch every time he touches you. it’s not even just about the roughness, it’s the proof after, the way you carry him on your skin. and he’s so passive with it sometimes, too, like he’ll sit back and just watch them bloom while you’re riding him, hands resting heavy on your thighs, whispering hoarse about how good you look covered in him. or he’ll pin you down and spend hours painting you in purples and reds, lips dragging over your throat, your tits, your stomach, biting and sucking until you’re dizzy from the sting. he’d get off on it even without fucking—just grinding up against you lazily, glassy-eyed, obsessed with every bruise and smear of his teeth, mumbling about how you’re his ruined girl, his proof. and the worst part is how much he loves the accidental ones too—like the way his gun holster digs into the soft inside of your thigh when you’re on his lap, leaving those little deep indents in your skin. he’ll trace them after, thumb dragging slow, grinning like it’s just another brand of ownership he put there. and he keeps track of them, too—how they fade, how fast your skin heals. the second they start to disappear, he gets pouty, muttering that it’s time to mark you up again, make it darker, deeper, so no one ever forgets who you belong to.

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the new cold storage teaser has me craving some travis meacham smuttt

SAME. i just keep thinking about how pent up he is having just got out of prison. being coworkers n having a crush on him which leads to some messy fun in the work showers <3

the locker room’s half-dark, steam hanging thick. you’ve just stepped out of your shower, towel clutched around you, when you hear it—low, harsh grunts and the wet slap of skin.

you peek around the corner.

teacake’s there, back to the tile, cock in his hand. it’s huge, thick and mean looking, dark hair curling heavy at the base. above it, the crude scrawl of danger zone ink stares back at you like a dare. his fist drags rough, veins standing out, and his mouth is half-open on a groan.

you gasp before you can stop yourself.

his head jerks up. eyes lock on you. no shame, no embarrassment—just a wicked grin.

“well look at that,” he rasps. “thought i was alone. guess not.”

you freeze, cheeks burning. his grin only widens.

“what’s the matter, sweetheart? never seen a cock before?” he strokes himself slow, deliberate, letting you watch.

“i—i should go—”

“nah.” his voice sharpens. “you came this far. towel, tits out, staring like you’re hungry. c’mere.”

your feet move before your head agrees. when you’re close enough, his free hand grabs your wrist and drags you flush against him. your towel slips, chest pressed to his hair rough stomach.

he chuckles, hot breath on your ear. “fuckin knew it. you wanted a look.” he guides your hand down, curling your fingers around his cock. heavy, burning hot in your palm. “now you can feel. go on.”

you start to stroke, but his big hand covers yours, controlling the pace, forcing you down to the base and back up again. precum smears over your knuckles.

“jesus christ, you’re tiny compared to this,” he mutters, watching your fist struggle around his girth. “bet this thing would split you wide open.”

you whimper, thighs pressing together. his other hand doesn’t miss it—he shoves the towel up, fingers diving between your legs before you can stop him.

“wet,” he groans. “knew you’d be. dripping just from lookin at me.”

your knees buckle, but he holds you up with the iron grip on your wrist and his hand working your cunt. two thick fingers slide through your folds, rubbing circles over your clit while your hand keeps jerking him.

“that’s it. help me help you, baby. you get me off, i’ll get you off. fair trade.”

he works you mercilessly, thumb grinding against your swelling clit in rhythm with your fist on his cock. you can barely breathe, his voice a filthy growl in your ear:

“good girl, making me feel so fuckin good. yeah, squeeze me tighter. you gonna cum for me while i blow all over you? huh?”

your body arches, desperate, your moans spilling into the steam. his cock twitches in your hand, heavy and hot.

“fuck—yeah, you’re taking me there. gonna cum all over you.”

his hips jerk, cock surging in your fist, and then he’s nudging you closed to him—thick ropes of cum striping your midriff, dripping down your stomach. at the same time his fingers press cruel and tight your clit, pushing you over the edge. you cry out, grinding down on his hand, pleasure crashing through you.

when it ebbs, you’re trembling against him, towel gone, chest sticky with his mess. he laughs low, breathless, and smears his cum across your nipple with his thumb.

“look at you. filthy thing. got me off and came all over my fuckin hand. help me help you, huh? think i like that arrangement.”

he leans in, teeth scraping your jaw. “same time tomorrow?.”

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✧ *: ･ﾟ HANG WITH ME *:･ﾟ✧

send an ask with any or all of the following:

fuck marry kill

would you rather

unpopular opinions

make me choose

constructive criticism

opinions on characters, fandoms or ships

ask me anything (no limits)

talk to me about your life/day

share your favourite things with me

tell me all about your crush(es)

vent to me or ask just ask for advice

just talk to me??? (even on anon)

[harringtons-cupid]

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Is that Joe keery ‘gossip’ blog gone? I can’t find them, their username was like sipthetea/sipthegossiptillyouchoke something like that I can’t remember but I liked them :( they’re not in my follow list anymore

I think so sweetie, it won’t let me click on their blog. So I guess they have deactivated

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@quinnsharrington ugh

..

.

.

. THIS IS CRAZY.. HIS FACE! 🥵😫😩

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“Oh no I didn’t wanna bother you” BOTHER ME PLEASE

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I fucking love watching men cum

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steve harrington when you ask him to spit in your mouth

cw : smut mdni, praise, making out, obviously steve spits in readers mouth, cussing, no use of y/n

you're on steve's lap, straddling him comfortably as his hands trail up and down your body.

he's desperate, messy, as he kisses you.

"so so pretty baby," he worships you as he breaks from your lips just briefly. "god i love this. shit, i could do this all day," he continues, slamming his mouth back on yours after, as if he's just realized that five seconds was too long for his lips to be off your own.

his tongue slips past your lips and you let out a small moan again him. he practically swallows it and continues to run his tongue against your own, soft but fast. you realize he wasn't wrong, you wouldn't mind doing this all day either.

his hands move from cupping your face to squeezing your tits over your clothing, to which you let out a whimper.

"your noises are so pretty babe," he murmurs against your lips. you moan at his praises.

you feel your cunt throb as a new idea graces your mind.

"stevie," you pant out, breaking away from him as much as he'll let you.

"mhm," he responds, slightly impatient, as though you've interrupted something important he was trying to accomplish.

"do you think you could... can you spit in my mouth, please?"

he groans a loud at your words and you could swear his eyes roll back a little.

"god, shit, yes baby, please," he says, voice thick with lust. "you're so fucking hot."

you get off of his lap and lay by his side, the scent of his navy blue bedsheets soft and comforting. he leans over your frame and plants another heated kiss to your lips.

he breaks away from you just enough and you open your mouth, wide and wanting, tongue stuck out and doe eyes staring up at him.

steve would swear later that even fully clothed, you look the absolute picture of sex.

he tries his best to take a mental picture of your face before he too sticks his tongue out lazily, so close that it's nearly touching your own. he lets you watch as a fat glob of spit slides down his tongue. holding eye contact with you, he slides the muscle slowly back into his mouth and makes the smallest "o" shape with his lips, letting his spit fall onto your tongue with a little wet noise.

you give him a small hum as you swallow it, not breaking eye contact.

"holy shit," he breathes, voices just above a whisper. "that might be the hottest thing you've ever done."

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😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

Impression

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Part two to Chemistry, but you don't technically have to read it to follow along :)

CW: Pseudocest/stepcest, unprotected sex, slight degradation, mentions of sex pollen

Steve deals with the aftermath of what he did, as well as realizes that he can't just let you go.

He was pacing.

Back and forth in front of his bed, his steps messy and rough as he tried to erase the previous night from his mind. It had nothing to do with the monsters or the beat down that he had faced, no, nothing like that.

It had everything to do with you. What he had done was wrong, sinister even. He didn't know why he had done it, only that he was sure that he would die if he hadn't touched you. He had never wanted someone so badly before. Not even Nancy.

And you were worse than any drug he had ever encountered. So needy and willingly underneath him, just as desperate and lustful. It was hard to feel like it was wrong in the moment, not when it felt so right.

But now he was left with a sickening feeling in his gut, his guilt eating away at him. He didn't even like you, he shouldn't really care. But it bothered him for some reason, but maybe it was because he hadn't really felt like he had been in control. Like part of his body had been acting without his consent, but then sometimes it didn't feel like that either.

His dad was going to kill him if he found out.

"It can't happen again." He told you the next morning, after he had forced himself away from you that night and scrubbed himself down in the shower until his skin was raw.

He didn't really like to look at you, not because you were ugly or unattractive. But because he was constantly reminded of what he couldn't have. He thought every piece of you was stunning, beautiful. And sometimes it was easier to push you away than to try and pretend to be nice.

"What?" You grumbled, still looking like you were half asleep as you held a glass of juice in between your hands. He huffed, shaking his head in disbelief.

"You know what." He responded as he waited for you to say something, to bring up what happened last night or to worry about the marks on his face. For a moment he couldn't decide what he would rather have you do.

But you were silent as you downed the rest of your juice, liquid falling from the corner of your lips before you wiped it away. You sighed as you set it down, not looking at all bothered. Or at least wearing a convincing mask.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." You replied as you shrugged your shoulders, eyebrows furrowing together as you walked away from him. He froze for a moment, briefly feeling lost. Leaving him with just enough time to wonder if he had imagined part of this.

No, it had been real. He was sure of it. He didn't want you to blab about it, but he wasn't sure he was happy with you ignoring it completely either. He wasn't sure what he wanted.

But you continued on like that, acting like nothing had happened. And it infuriated him. You had always been a brat, but you were even worse now. And he was determined to get to the bottom of it.

It was wrong. Really wrong. He kept trying to remind himself that, but he had a hard time believing it. Not when his eyes searched for you, when his fingertips burned to feel your skin against his again. He could feel the desperation leaking from him, needy to feel you again.

So he'd try again.

"What are you playing at?" He asked as he forced himself into your room the next night, shuttingt he door swiftly behind him. You looked up, eyebrows raised for a moment before you turned away again.

"I don't know what you're talking about." You repeated dryly, legs crossed as you placed your bookmark neatly between the pages you were on. He breathed in deeply, trying to do his best to keep from staring at your exposed skin.

"Why won't you talk about what happened?" He muttered at last, feeling more desperate than anything else. He had a sudden urge to fall to his knees, to feel your fingers tangled within his hair as he did whatever you wanted.

"Do you want me to?" You questioned as you tilted your head, eyes looking right through him. He shifted from foot to foot, trying to figure out the answer to your question. The truth was that he didn't know. He had no idea at all.

He huffed as he slowly sat down on your floorboards, wishing there was a way to explain what had happened. Or maybe he was wanting to apologize. He wasn't sure. All of it had happened so fast.

"What are you thinking about?" You questioned as you crept closer to him, making his pulse raise against the side of his neck. You were in an oversized shirt, one that just barely covered you. He had a hard time looking away.

"I feel like I'm crazy," he replied, skin burning as you slowly crawled over to him. This didn't feel like before. It was different, but nice. Real, "do you feel that way?" he asked, eyes lingering against your bare thighs.

"No," you said at last, tilting your head as you straddled him fully. He bit back a groan, trying not to buck his hips up against your warm flesh, "you made me feel alive." You added softly, making him feel like he might melt into the floorboards.

You slowly rocked your hips across him, leaving him gripping the floor for support. He felt greedily, desperaetly needing to touch you as he reached down to open the buttons to his jeans. Then his zipper.

He stared at the way you slowly sat up, how you delicately let your panites down down the length of your legs. He watched in fascination, sure that he had never felt this way before. He reached forward, pressing a few kisses against your knee before you settled over him again.

"Are you going to be nice to me, Stevie?" You asked as you fluttered your eyelashes at him, your fingers brushing across his hardened dick. He whined at the feeling, grinding his hips up into until you pushed him back down. You shook your head, giving him a warning.

"Mhm." He hummed in agreement, eyelids feeling heavy as he hungrily watched your movements. He felt greedy suddenly, desperately needing to feel you.

"You're going to be a good boy?" You cooed as you tilted your head, a small smirk pulling on your lips. He felt faint at the feeling of your palm pressing down rougher against his bulge, his dick aching from the feeling. It was more intense than the other night. Real.

"I promise," he whined as he wiggled underneath you, lips still covered with your slick, "please." He pleaded as he pulled himself onto his elbows, watching the slow way that you tugged his briefs down his hairy thighs.

He sighed in relief at the feeling of his cock popping free, bouncing against his skin as a gleeful giggle left your lips. His pulse raced against the crook of his neck, his mind spinning as he drifted his eyes back towards you.

Your fingers wrapped around his thick girth delicately, your teeth shining brightly from the wide smile you sent him as he crooned in response. He was pulsing against your touch, cock throbbing as you gave him a little squeeze.

"I'll take care of you," you promised as you drifted your free hand across his slender torso, eyes slowly dancing across each mole that decorated his skin. He was covered in the little marks, and sometimes found himself hating them. But not right now, not with the way you were looking at him, "just relax."

He did as you demanded, his fingertips relaxing against your hips as you slowly lifted yourself up over him. His cock ached against his skin as the feeling of you hovering over him spread warmth through his body.

The feeling of his tip against your slick walls made his head spin, his heart hammering roughly inside his chest as he watched the way his cock slid inside of your soaked cunt. Your moans were whiny and rough, making his ears sing from the heavenly sound.

"You're such a slut for your little sister," you coeed as you stalled your movements for a second, adjusting to the feeling of his dick pulsing inside of you, "but you like that, don't you?" You teased, making him quickly nod his head in agreement. He'd do whatever you said, whatever you asked.

A low whimper left his lips as you fully lowered yourself along the curve of his cock, your eyes fluttering shut as he resisted the urge to fuck up into your smooth cunt. His fingers twitched against your flesh, trying to keep himself patient so he could savor the feeling of your pussy wrapped around his thick girth.

"God," he whined as he clawed at your hips, lungs stalling from the rough breaths he was taking, "you feel so good around me, honey." He complimented, mind feeling hazy as you slowly began to rock your hips up and down the length of his cock.

Pleasure raced up his spine, the muscles in his stomach twisting in pleasure as he savored the feeling of your walls clamping around his cock. The feeling of your slick coating his skin left him gasping, his lungs swelling in awe each time your cunt squelched around him.

"Fuck," you breathed out, eyebrows furrowing together as pleasure spread across your features. You whined, a heavenly sound that filled his ears as he buried his fingertips into your flesh again. He groaned as he began to thrust upwards, his balls hitting against your skin, "right there, Stevie. Feels incredible."

He sighed in bliss, staring at the way your cunt stretched around him as you continued to drag yourself along the curve of his cock. He reached down to play with your clit, making you squirm atop of him as he savored the image of your pussy stuffed full of his cock. Something inside of him snapped, like you were made to be wrapped around him.

Your hands were warm against his skin, pressing into him as loud moans began to fall from your tongue. The sounds made his toes curl, bliss spreading deep inside of him. He didn't want you to ever stop. No, he wanted to feel himself buried inside of you for a very long time.

"Jesus," he groaned as he began to thrust up into you deeply, his cock brushing against the deepest parts of you as your nails began to dig into his shirt. Your thighs squeezed around his body, tugging him closer, "feels good. feels so good, honey. Fuck, fuck." The words rolled off of his tongue easily as a blush crept onto his skin, hot and sticky from the sweat that had formed against the base of his neck.

It was hard to think, hard to feel anything but the intense pleasure with the way you turned your gaze down towards him. He was sure that he had never seen someone so beautiful before, so stunning as the pleasure etched deeply across your features.

It was hard to feel shame when everything felt this good, but even now, he hated how desperately he wanted to kiss you. How badly he wanted to drift his hands across your curves and feel your warm skin against his own. He thought of how badly he wanted to explore every inch of you, to drag his lips across your skin and to never forget the sweet sounds that fell from your lips.

"Oh God," he whined wantonly as he began to drag his hips up roughly into your soaked cunt, the sound of your bodies meeting bouncing off of the walls, "M'sorry, fuck, fuck!" He cursed as he pressed himself up against you, balls slick against your skin as his cock pulsed against your walls.

A loud moan left his lips as he came deep inside of you, his cum painting your walls white. He moved his hand down between your legs, roughly rubbing at your swollen clit as your body twitched in pleasure.

"Oh God, Steve!" He sat up further, mind foggy in awe at the way your cunt clamped down tightly around his cock. He breathed in deeply, listening to the way you moaned and crooned as you came around his cock. You rocked down against him slowly, licking your bottom lip.

He couldn't hear anything but your moans, his heart hammering roughly inside his chest as he continued to press down against your sensitive bud. He couldn't feel anything but you, his pleasure pulsing deep inside his veins as he stared up at you in disbelief. In awe.

You looked down at him, features twisted into a mixture of satisfaction and smugness. He couldn't care though, not one bit as you traced your fingers across your chest softly.

"What's wrong, Stevie?" you giggled as you pressed down along his hips, eyes twinkling in mischief, "cat got your tongue?" He exhaled roughly as he nodded numbly, feel his cock twitching inside of you once again.

Yeah, you could say that.

[harringtons-cupid]

We will literally never progress past biphobia until people realize that bisexuals in het relationships are still having a queer experience by virtue of being bisexual, we do not magically oscillate between gay enough and too straight. I’m going to maul someone to death.

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sitting on my blog’s porch with a cigarette and a shotgun

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hey dude… wanna play hide, seek, and fuck in the woods?