#bottom steve harrington
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
steddieas-shegoes · 2 months ago
Text
a new bottom in town
for @steddieholidaydrabbles pop up event 'anniversary'
rated e | 902 words | cw: references to injury | tags: post-vecna, established relationship, top eddie munson, bottom steve harrington, anal sex
🔃🔃🔃🔃🔃🔃🔃🔃🔃🔃🔃🔃🔃🔃🔃
“Can we try something new?” Steve asks as they finish eating the cheesecake Eddie brought home to celebrate their anniversary.
Six months may not seem like a lot to some, but for Steve and Eddie, it was a major milestone and they wanted to treat it as such. The first four months they spent together was mostly at the hospital while Eddie learned how to walk and talk and eat again.
“Sure, baby. What is it?” Eddie sets his fork down and leans forward so he’s in Steve’s space.
“Um. Could you…could you fuck me?”
Eddie’s heart stops.
Listen, it’s not that he doesn’t want to. If anything, he’s fantasized about doing just that for years.
But he’s still gaining muscle mass back in his legs and abs, and he doesn’t have the stamina he had before the bats took it with their teeth.
“Like…put my…”
“Yeah. I’d really…I’d like you to be inside me.”
Eddie’s not sure if he’s dreaming, but this feels like something right out of his best fantasy. He’s just a little hesitant because, well, he doesn’t want to be a disappointment. Their sex life is great as it is, and changing it up now, especially before Eddie’s back to full health, may put everything to a screeching halt.
“It’s fine if you don’t want to.” Steve continues when Eddie doesn’t answer. “I’m good with fucking you if you prefer that.”
“No! No, Stevie. I want to. Trust me.” Eddie gives a self-deprecating laugh. “I’m just not sure I can?”
Steve seems to realize what he’s worried about quickly, nodding like he understands. But after a few seconds, he’s smiling.
“I could ride you?”
Eddie’s definitely dead and somehow he got into heaven or hell is a lot nicer than people led him to believe.
“You would wanna ride my dick? Like, while I do nothing?” Eddie asks for clarification.
“I mean, I’m sure you could do something. But yeah. I could do most of the work,” Steve shrugs like this is not life-changing to Eddie.
“You want me inside of you that bad?”
“Yeah. It’s kinda all I’ve been thinking about for a while,” Steve flushes as he scoots his fork along his empty plate.
“And you think this is a gift for you?”
“It’s a gift for both of us.”
“Then let’s get upstairs, sweetheart.”
Steve’s head snaps up, his eyes bright with desire and excitement. “Really?”
“It’s not exactly a big ask of me to lay in bed and let you ride my dick, baby.”
Steve is out of the room before Eddie’s even up from his chair. Eddie laughs as he follows him, much slower, but finally able to go without the cane around the house. He doesn’t really mind it, but it’s nice to feel more independent without it for something like this.
By the time he’s in their room, Steve’s naked and pouring lube onto his fingers.
“Damn. Okay. Are we in a rush?” Eddie leans against the doorway and crosses his arms.
“I was gonna prep myself so you could watch.”
“Steve. Baby. Love of my life.” Eddie walks to the bed and sits down, crossing his legs and leaning his face in his hands. “This is the best gift you’ve ever given me. Continue.”
Steve flushes from his chest to his forehead and Eddie can’t get enough. He resists further interrupting him, though.
He watches Steve lean back against the pillows at an angle, teasing his own hole while Eddie barely bites back a moan. He’s been hard since he walked in the room and saw Steve’s bare ass in the bed, but now he can feel the urgency of needing to lose his clothes and get inside Steve.
Steve’s efficient and Eddie is definitely asking him about how he’s so good at opening himself up later, and within minutes, Steve’s begging for Eddie to lay down.
Eddie gets undressed as quickly as possible and finds a comfortable position against the headboard.
Steve straddles him, lines up his cock, and slides down before Eddie can even process what’s happening.
They moan together, long and loud.
“Fuck, is this how you feel when I’m inside you?” Steve gasps as he lifts himself and drops back down.
“Full? Hot? Tingly?” Steve nods. “Then, yes. Shit, Stevie, you’re so tight. It doesn’t hurt?”
“No, feels so good.” Steve’s head falls back as he finds a slow rhythm, still cautious as he stretches himself further.
Eddie’s hands rest on his hips, not helping, just holding.
“Wanna do this every night,” Steve groans as his pace picks up. “Forever. Can we?”
“Baby, if I wake up and this wasn’t a dream, we can do it whenever you want.”
“Touch me.” Steve demands, always so bossy even when he’s getting everything he wants. Eddie touches him because he will always do what Steve asks of him. “Fuck, faster. Yeah, like that.”
When they come less than a minute later, Steve collapses against Eddie, head on his shoulder and arms a deadweight by his sides.
“You okay?” Eddie asks as he rubs his back with one hand.
“So good.” Steve kissed his shoulder. “I’m the bottom now.”
Eddie cackles. “We can take turns.”
“80/20?”
“Okay. Let me get my strength back so I can fuck you properly and we’ll see if you still want that.”
Steve pulls back and smirks. “Where’s your cane?”
382 notes · View notes
nymime · 1 year ago
Text
Steve: *Fall sleep in the sofa while movie night with the group.*
Eddie: *To dustin, staring at Steve with lovely eyes* Look at him!… I would die for him, I would kill for him…
Dustin: Ed-
Eddie: Either way, what a bliss…
Dustin: *Whispering loudly to the party* He want to bang my mom! Our mom!
1K notes · View notes
fuzzyduxk · 6 months ago
Text
in my mind steve is a bratty sub bottom who craves affection attention and love and eddie wants to give steve affection attention and love. they’re just meant to be ig
170 notes · View notes
accio-motivation · 1 year ago
Text
'I'm not a queer', Steve thinks when Billy pushes his cock all the way inside.
He's not a queer because before he met Billy he has not even kissed another guy and he has always enjoyed having sex with girls. Right now he's just experimenting, it's nothing serious. And he can still say that he didn't like it afterwards.
Afterwards.
After Billy made him moan like a pornstar and beg for his cock like a cheap whore.
But Steve doesn't like it.
Doesn't like the way Billy's grinning down at him right now, all smug and hot, sweaty curls sticking to his forehead.
He looks like an angel and Steve doesn't like it, so he grabs him by the nape of his neck and pulls him down for a kiss. Just so he doesn't have to see Billy like this anymore.
Because Steve's not a queer.
He doesn't like it when Billy hits that one spot inside of him, that makes his eyes roll back in his head. He doesn't like that the feeling of being stretched open on Billy's cock makes him squirm and whine because he feels so full. So complete.
But he hates Billy, actually.
Hates him so much that he's leaving ugly red scratch marks on his tanned back, that will look absolutely terrible tomorrow morning when he has to go back to the public pool.
Hates him so much that he's burying his fingernails in the flesh of Billy's hips which will surely leave half-moon shaped marks. Because he wants to keep Billy close. Wants his dick even deeper inside of him. Wants Billy to fuck him harder.
And Billy does.
He presses one more kiss to Steve's open mouth before he straightens his back. He grabs Steve's thighs, spreads his legs even wider and increases the pace of his thrusts. Steve moans, in protests of course, and grabs the bedsheets with both hands, because Billy fucks like an animal and Steve thinks he's going to pass out.
He doesn't like it when Billy calls him his 'good boy'. Doesn't like how warm it makes him feel. Doesn't like it when Billy tells him how pretty he looks right now. How well he's taking his cock. How perfect he is for him.
Steve's going to come like that.
Billy hasn't even touched his dick yet but he's going to come. Can feel his orgasm on the tip of his tongue.
He reaches out and puts a hand on Billy's left pec. He lets his hand travel down to Billy's toned stomach where he can feel his muscles working under the warm skin.
Steve's not into guys but Billy keeps hitting that one spot perfectly and fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!!
He moans Billy's name.
Says a few things he's not proud of. Does a few things he's going to regret for the rest of his life.
And when he comes, it's hot and loud and intense.
It makes Billy groan. Makes him slam his cock so deep inside, Steve thinks he can feel it in his throat. And then he feels something warm filling him up and it makes his already spent cock twitch.
Steve doesn't like it when Billy pulls out and he suddenly feels a kind of emptiness he has never felt before.
He doesn't like the feeling of cum dripping down his thighs. Billy's cum.
Billy.
He flops down on the bed next to Steve. Breathing heavily. One arm covering half of his face.
He looks as tired as Steve feels.
Steve isn't a queer and he doesn't like Billy but he doesn't say anything when Billy's drifting off to sleep in his bed. Doesn't wake him up. Doesn't kick him out.
He grabs the blanket to cover both of their naked bodies. Has to move closer to Billy, so they both fit, he tells himself. So close that his head is resting on Billy's chest.
Billy's heart's beating fast. Like he ran a marathon. Steve wonders if his own heart is beating as rapidly when Billy carefully puts an arm around him, keeping him close.
He doesn't really care because he doesn't like Billy. And he doesn't like guys. Not in that way, at least.
And maybe that's alright.
He doesn't have to be queer to enjoy another person's warmth. Doesn't have to be queer to like being held. Doesn't have to be queer to like the feeling of Billy's soft cock against his thigh.
Okay, maybe he's a little queer.
Just a bit.
Just for Billy.
709 notes · View notes
katyawriteswhump · 5 months ago
Text
the freak in the penthouse
Eddie became an accidental millionaire, coming up with creative content for a video game for his techy best bud Dustin. It's great at first… but not his dream. He winds up living in a hotel room, depressed he let his music hopes slip.
Steve, meanwhile, works in the hotel, and is desperately in debt for medical bills. When his boss asks him to get a male hooker for the ‘freak in the penthouse,' he can’t really let the ‘chance’ pass. After all, the 'freak' didn't look so bad to him, and he's done this kind of thing before when he had to...
Set in the early 90s with some period-typical homophobia. Shamelessly trope-y! This will probably go up to ‘E’ rated next chapter, but ‘M’ for now as this chapter isn’t too spicy yet ;)
also here on AO3 or search the tumblr tag #thefreakinthepenthouse
Chapter one: the freak
Eddie lingered in that warm, fuzzy twilight zone between sleep and wakefulness. He didn’t want to wake up.
His dream—at least, the parts of it trickling back to him—had been hot, hot, hot. He’d been killing it live to an insane sell-out crowd at the Hollywood Bowl and…
…what the hell?
More of Eddie’s dream filtered back. The part which explained his epic boner. He’d not been thrashing out a nine-minute-long power ballad. On that dream-stage, in front of that sell-out crowd, he’d been fucking a deadly hot, deadly cute guy.
Holy shit! That’s almost as unbelievable as anybody paying to come see me play.
He began to wake up for real. A keening sound escaped his throat. On the other hand, the joys of the night hadn’t quite evaporated.
Possibly because he’d gotten his nose buried in a mass of slightly sticky hair. 
He was spooning ANOTHER GUY.
The reality of last night rushed back. Every muscle in Eddie’s body locked up. Wow, wow, wow! And also, Shiiiiiit! 
Steve. That was the guy’s name. Eddie rubbed his nose in the nape of Steve’s neck, inhaling cheap hair gel.
Steve had been good. He’d kissed like a demon and offered up that to-die-for ass like a fallen angel. Eddie recalled rutting deep into Steve’s tight, pulsating body, till sweat stung his eyes. Yup, pure carnal pleasure was a decent distraction from being rich beyond your wildest dreams and too miserable as fuck to enjoy it.
On the flip-side, Eddie had few gripes about life at this particular moment. Slowly, careful not to wake Steve, Eddie crawled an arm over him, wandering fingers through the tangle of hair on Steve’s chest.
Bleeeeeep.
Steve cried, “Wha—?” and sat bolt upright, whacking Eddie’s arm out of the way. He blinked around, raking soft curls from his eyes. Damn. Steve was even cuter with his hair all natural, no longer slicked back.
Steve glanced at his watch and silenced the bleeps. “Crap! I’m on shift for breakfast. Gotta go.”
Steve was rushing around the room already, butt naked. Eddie sighed longingly at Steve’s ass. When Steve yanked some dark blue uniform pants from his knapsack and pulled them on, Eddie sighed even harder.
His focus drifted to the enormous clock-face painted directly onto the hideous pink paisley walls. 
“It’s 6 o’clock? In the morning?” He flipped his lank-feeling hair from his brow. “Uuuuugh. I’d forgotten there were two 6 o’clocks in the day.”
“Some of us have gotta earn a living.” Steve shoved his arms into a not particularly well-pressed white shirt then fiddled with the buttons at his throat. “Talking of which… Can I have my two-hundred bucks, please?”
Twelve hours earlier
“Got a job for you, Harrington,” said Kline, head concierge at the Beverly Hills Yorkshire. “Try not to mess this one up.”
Steve looked up from where he was emptying ashtrays into the trash. His least-loved superior drew close and dropped his usually bark-like voice to an undertone:
“Freak in the penthouse wants a hooker. Tonight. 8pm sharp.”
“Oh. Right.” Steve humoured Kline, answering in an equally conspiratorial tone. “Do I call the usual agency?”
“Hell, no. Freaks a freak! Wants a guy. Goddamn dirty queer.” Steve was still tipping ashtrays—best to always look busy when this sleazebag was around. Unfortunately, this meant Kline stuffed a note into the waistband of Steve’s pants, forcing Steve to suppress a shudder. “Deirdre gave me some numbers to call around. Whatever the dirty dogs quote, triple the number—no, quadruple it—before you tell the freak. We can turn a fat profit here. Reckon you can handle that? Or will the figures be too much for that air-brain little head of yours?”
After Kline departed, Steve pulled out the crumpled note. He stared at the numbers and chewed his lip. Fuck, fuck, FUCK. Could he really afford to pass this over?
He wasn’t allowed to wait tables in the silver-service grill anymore—he’d gotten one too many table orders muddled up. He was really feeling the pinch without those tips.
And the ‘freak’ had to be richer than God.
Dude had been shacked up in the penthouse for nearly three weeks now. That place cost over a thousand bucks a night. On the couple of occasions Steve had taken up room service, the guy had lurked in the gloom and behind a curtain of rocker hair. A pale hand with long, slender fingers offered out a ten-dollar bill.
He had to be a rockstar, right? Thought nobody had figured out what band he was in, and guys like that only buried themselves away to drink too much, do drugs, trash stuff, and… fuck whores.
Steve crumpled Kline’s note in his fist and resigned himself to it.  His medication had doubled in price this year, and he was reduced to sleeping in one of the hotel linen closets.
An extra hundred dollars or so would help a lot.
Eddie wished he hadn’t answered the phone. It was goddamn Dustin, berating him as ever:
“Eddie! Do I have to stick a firework up your butt or something? Suzie and I have got all the gameplay coding sorted for ‘Vecna’s Doom Quest II’ ready to rock and roll. All we want is for you to sprinkle your magic over the creative content, and we’ll be home and dry for another monster hit.”
“There’s the rub, Henderson. I’m not feeling wildly creative right now.”
“Then get out of that doily-saturated dumpster! Travel! Meet people! Honestly, what was the point of becoming a millionaire at twenty-four if you can’t enjoy yourself. If you’re still cut up about your music, then hire yourself another studio and—”
“You need to get off my back. After your hour-long lecture about how I needed to get laid, I went and did something stupid and now—”
“You did get a date?”
“No, I… Look, this is really not a good time, Henderson.” 
Eddie hung up. 
He instantly felt bad. Jesus, he spent his whole life feeling bad about something these days. 
He knew Dustin meant well. In his own arrogant-little-shit kinda way. Eddie probably should take his advice, go to a club, meet guys he’d like to date, and he would. If the thought of simply leaving the hotel didn’t shred his nerves ragged.
And there was no way he could tell Dustin he’d gone and ordered a rent boy on room service. After a couple of way-too-early-in-the-day shots of vodka, it’d seemed like a good idea. 
Not anymore.
Eddie picked up one of his many guitars, which lay propped alongside the ornate couch. He struck a miserably dissonant chord. The shady guy who’d sold it claimed it’d once belonged to Hendrix. Eddie hadn’t really fallen for that shit then paid a dumb price for it anyhow. On the off-chance it’d inspire some of that metal magic he’d let slip.
“Magic, Munson? You always sucked balls and you know it.”
Jesus, he was talking to himself now, and he knew he was wallowing. These past three weeks, it was all he’d done. Worse, he knew he was an ungrateful dick, not appreciating the journey he’d made from his uncle’s trailer to this.
Which made him hate himself even more.
He tossed the guitar down on the couch—would’ve smashed it, if not for just the teeniest chance Jimi did once deign to touch it. Instead, he punched one of the penthouse’s many fake-marble pillars, then whimpered, blowing on his damaged knuckles.
He was about to call down for ice—and to cancel his ‘date’—when the knock sounded at the door. He considered ignoring it. Then he noticed the time.
8pm.
Rent-boy o’clock.
He’d not realised the day had slid away so fast. It sure as heck dragged till now. He was still considering ignoring the knock, when it came again.
“Mister Munson?”
Eddie dithered a moment longer then went to the grand double doors and opened one a crack. 
His jaw dropped.
The guy waiting on his doormat was good-looking, for sure. Striking was the word that sprung next into Eddie’s mind. His slicked back hair was a touch too yuppy-frat-boy for Eddie’s taste. Eddie totally dug his eyeliner, though, which set off big chocolate eyes to perfection. A vest top revealed leanly muscled arms and was also cropped at his midriff to display a swatch of trim, lick-able flesh, intersected by a trail of wispy hair. His ripped jeans were so tight they might’ve been spray-painted on, and…
…he was also slightly familiar. Eddie was so busy gawking, he genuinely jumped when the guy spoke again.
“Hey. I’m Steve. You, uh, asked for—”
“Look, I was gonna call down and cancel. This was a friend’s idea.”  Yeah, blame Henderson, you snivelling coward. “I changed my mind, okay?”
“Oh.” Steve’s shoulders slumped, although something shifted in his eyes that might’ve been relief. “I’ll be off then… Oh hey, are you okay? What happened to your hand?”
Eddie had made the mistake of pinching the bridge of his nose with his puffy red fingers. “Oh, I’m fine. I whacked myself.”
“You want me to get you some ice?”
“Uuuuuh, hookers can do that?”
Steve winced slightly. “I actually work in the hotel. I mean, as a day job. Breakfast buffet, elevator, room service, odd jobs, that kinda thing.”
“Right.” That raised more questions that it answered. Eddie opted not to pry. “Thought you looked familiar. You look different out of—”
“Out of the shitty bellboy outfit?” Steve rolled those way too pretty eyes, and dumped a bulging knapsack by the doors. “I’ll grab that ice.”
Steve dashed to the nearest ice-dispenser, grabbed a first-aid kit too. He rushed back to the penthouse. His heart raced, and he felt kinda flushed, despite the arctic setting on the air con.
Up close, the ‘freak’ was pretty good-looking, if slightly Goth-y and pale. And Steve had to get out of the nasty-ass habit of thinking of him as ‘the freak.’ Now he’d gotten face-to-face with the guy, it seemed mean and douchy.
One of the doors was ajar when he returned. Eddie sat on one of several luxuriant couches, his head in his hands. The place smelled faintly of weed, but nothing worse. Steve coughed, cleared his throat: “Got the ice, Mister Munson, Sir.”
“Jesus, none of that shit. It’s Eddie.”
“Wow. My favourite name.”
Eddie snorted. “Horseshit.”
Steve wrapped some ice chips in a napkin, sat down beside Eddie, who downed a glass of clear liquid that Steve suspected was vodka. Then, hesitantly, Eddie stretched out an elegant, long-fingered hand. Steve took it one of his and pressed the ice to Eddie’s swollen knuckles. Eddie appeared reluctant to look him in the eye, which made Steve feel dead awkward too.
He noticed a massive crack in one of the pillars. Had to be recent. Plaster dust sprinkled the otherwise immaculate Persian carpet beneath.
“You wanna talk about it?” he said, returning his attention to Eddie’s hand. “Did you have an argument with your girlf… boyfriend.”
“Ain’t got no one, brother. Went and ordered you, didn’t I?”
Steve felt like he’d been slapped. Yeah, he’d been ordered on room service, like a platter of meat. Okay, he’d kinda chosen this but… Choices, real choices, had been out of his league for what felt like forever.
He gritted his teeth. “You want me to bandage this, or should I just leave?”
That got Eddie looking up sharply. “Leave?”
“You said you were gonna cancel? Not in the groove for booty calls, huh?”
Steve watched Eddie’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. He tugged his hand away from Steve, picked up the glass with tips of those delicious fingers and offered it to Steve. “Changed my mind. Drink?”
“I feel I should pour, right?” said Steve, nerves fizzing.
Eddie was finally looking at him again, eyes narrowed to simmering slits: “If you like.”
...
anyone here for this? <3 likes reblogs and comments much appreciated and will feed the bunnies🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕
Chapter 2 on tumblr
Chapter 2 on AO3
I've added a hashtag #thefreakinthepenthouse for ease of finding the earlier parts. I can also tag if anybody is interested... please let me know.
zero pressure and one-off tag @sidekick-hero who kindly asked about this one in the WIP tag game and just got a surprised blurble as I'd not typed anything up then...
112 notes · View notes
infinite-orangepeel · 2 years ago
Text
god really poured the universe’s entire supply of maximum cutie pie babygirl energy into joe keery when he created him
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
fuctacles · 10 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Thinking how Steve would probably assume he's a top. Even after figuring out he's bi, it seems like a logical thing to him, considering he's only fucked girls before. Enter the weird friends with benefits thing he recently started with Eddie and his whole thought process stands on its head.
"I haven't even touched you," he marvels at the cum pooling on their bellies.
"Well..."
"Does it really feel so good?"
"Man, you have no idea."
And with the awe and bliss painted on Eddie's face, Steve makes a quick decision.
"Can we switch next time? I wanna see for myself."
They do and boy oh boy do they discover some stuff about their preferences in bed.
157 notes · View notes
robindium · 10 months ago
Text
Steve, looking through his clothes: Has anyone seen my top?
Max: Eddie's in the kitchen.
176 notes · View notes
l1tw1ck · 2 years ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Staring
sub!bottom!ftm Steve x dom!top!masc reader
☆ Word Count: 1,610 ☆
Tumblr media
↳ [REQUEST] | AFAB Language Used
i think this is my 100th request 😭
CW: Locker Room Sex, Teasing, Oral, Praise Kink, Fingering, Daddy Kink, Squirting, Cum Swallowing, accidentally dialogue heavy
Tumblr media
Once again, your teammate is checking you out. He’s been looking at you weirdly for weeks now and you're convinced he has a crush on you. It started with random glances and turned into full on stares.
He always thought you were attractive and he found himself looking at you in every class you share and at every practice. And each time he felt more and more drawn to you. It started off innocent, all he wanted was to hold hands and kiss. But then he started thinking about you in ways that aren't so family friendly. You’re confident and dominant on the court, he wonders if you're the same in bed. He feels bad but he's been masturbating to you. He does things he’d never thought he’d do. He feels perverted doing it but he often buys popsicles and practices sucking you off. He even managed to buy a dildo but he was too scared to use it so he just rubs his cunt against the plastic shaft. He settled with fantasies but he realized that wasn't enough.
Tumblr media
“Staring again? Am I that good looking?” You chuckle. Steve’s eyes widen, a blush spreading across his cheeks. He stutters for a bit before you stop him. “I’m just kidding, Steve.” You smile sweetly.
“Ri- right-” He quickly turns around and rushes to the bathroom to wash his face and cool down.
It happens again the next day, this time he was being very obvious with his arousal. He was on the bench for ‘health reasons’ (he just wanted to watch you) and you noticed him squeezing his legs together and giving you bedroom eyes.
“Am I the only one who gets the ‘Steve Harrington Death Stare’?” You chuckled. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
Steve’s entire face burned red. “Um-”
“You don't have to explain right now. I think I understand.” You winked at him. “But I’d like to hear it from you eventually.”
Hope filled his heart. If he confesses, will you say yes?
He takes a while to build up the courage to confess but he finally does. And now here’s Steve, standing in front of you in the empty locker room while fiddling with his thumbs. You wait patiently for him to speak rather than rushing him, he appreciates it.
“Whenever you…you tease me, I feel so...so..”
“Horny?” You smirk, remembering how turned on he looked sitting on the bench.
His ears tinge red. He wasn't going to say that, but you're far from wrong. “Yeah...and I just wanna…I want you to tease me and- and praise me, and make me do whatever you want me to...” He trails off, eyes widening as he realizes what he’s saying. “I get it if you- if you’re uncomfortable! You can just pretend this never happened!”
“Whatever I want, huh?” You smirk. “Kneel.”
His eyes are blown wide as he falls to his knees. He looks to you for approval before pulling down your shorts and boxers, your half hard cock slapping him in the face. He takes it in his hand and drags his tongue along your shaft, mimicking the girls in the porno DVDs he borrowed at Family Video. He watches as you grow to full size, the sight causes a throbbing sensation in his pants. He imagined you being big but this is a whole different story.
“Put it in your mouth, sweetheart.” You urge. Steve does as you ask, opening his mouth and taking the tip of your cock in his mouth. He looks up at you as he tries to swallow you whole, stopping halfway. He knows his limits. He sucks you off for at least a minute, trying his very best to please you, before pulling away and looking at you with a sweet expression.
“Am I doing okay..?” He asks softly. It's his first time doing anything with another guy, he wants to make sure he’s doing it right. Plus, he wants to hear you praise him.
“You’re doing so good for me, baby..” You wrap your fingers in his hair, guiding him back onto your length. Steve closes his eyes and starts to ‘properly’ suck you off. “Look at me.”
His eyes flutter open, his gaze focusing on you. He moves his mouth up and down your shaft while keeping eye contact the whole time.
“What a sight..” You sigh. “You look so pretty like this, Steve. Wish I had a camera.”
Steve moans and picks up the pace, encouraged to do more. He brings his hand inside his shorts and presses two fingers against his clit. He rubs it in circles and moans, bobbing his head up and down vigorously.
“Look at you, getting turned on from sucking my cock..” You murmur, gently pulling him off of you. “How about I take care of that?”
Steve shakes his head lightly. “I like…I like making you feel good..”
You never thought of Steve as the type to prefer pleasing rather than being pleased but now that you've been made aware of it, it makes sense. You've heard rumors that his parents are never home, the reason why he has so many parties, it's clear that he needs someone to give him the praise he never received.
“You know how you can make me feel even better? Get over there and bend over.” You point to the wall of lockers.
Steve quickly does as you asked, jutting his ass out and looking back at you. You walk up behind him and pull his shorts off. His boxers are white, which allows you to see how wet he is. He’s soaked just from sucking you off. You pull them off, revealing his pretty pussy. You slowly slide one finger inside him and then another.
“How often do you touch yourself, Steve?” You ask, your chest resting on his back.
He turns more red than he already is. “Everyday..” He whispers.
“Really? What do you think about?” You start fingering him.
“You, [Name].” He admits.
“Of course.” You chuckle. “Do you use toys? Or just your fingers?”
“I…I..” He’s too embarrassed to tell you the truth.
“Come on, tell me.” You angle your fingers to his pleasure spot, making him whine.
“I finger myself but sometimes- fuck-” His face is a bright red. “I use a dildo..”
“So you've already taken something inside you?”
He shakes his head. “I rub…”
“You rub your pussy against the toy?” You ask and he nods. “Fuck…I need to see that.”
Steve moans. “You can watch–”
“Yeah? God, I bet you’d look so fucking hot doing it..” You pull your fingers out. “I’m gonna put it in.”
He gulps and prepares himself for your entrance. As you ease yourself inside him, he shuts his eyes and leans his head back. You're filling him up so well. “Mm- Daddy~” He moans out mindlessly.
“Does it feel good, baby?”
“Yes- fuck- you're so big-” He grins, loving how you stretch him out.
“You feel good too–” You groan in his ear, causing him to shiver. “Can I move?”
He nods.
You grip his hips and start fucking into him at a gentle pace. You don't want to hurt him.
“Mm- go faster, if you want~” He already feels like he's on cloud 9 but he has a feeling that you're holding back. “Wanna make you feel good, Daddy~”
“Don’t say that, I won’t be able to hold back.”
“‘M yours, Daddy, use me.”
You dig your nails into his skin and thrust into him roughly, practically rearranging his insides. Steve lets out loud, slutty moans without an ounce of shame. It feels too good for him to care about his surroundings. “Do you want everyone in the school to hear you? You want someone to come in and find you like this?”
He giggles, the thought of someone finding him getting pounded by you only makes him more excited. “Yes~!”
“Yes?” You laugh. “I didn’t know you were a whore, Harrington.”
“I’m your whore~!” He exclaims.
You somehow fuck him even harder and rougher than before, riled up by his words. You ram into his cunt relentlessly, enamored by the plushness of his wet pussy and the sluttiness of his words. Steve bites his lip as tears start to stream down his cheeks. He feels so fucking good, it's like electricity's running through him.
“Daddy–” He whines. “‘M gonna come-”
“Before me? How selfish.” You tease him.
Steve blabbers out an apology, crying harder.
“I'm kidding, sweetheart.” You bring your hand down to his clit, rubbing it in circles. Steve’s legs shake as you pull him into an orgasm, eyes rolling back as he squirts all over the floor and lockers. You help him through his orgasm before pulling out. You help him onto his knees and stroke yourself over his face. He sticks out his tongue and waits for you to come. It doesn't take long before you’re spurting thick ropes of cum all over his face and tongue.
“You did so well for me, Steve..” You murmur, helping him stand up. “Such a good boy for me.” You bring him to the showers.
Tumblr media
bonus:
Steve rubs his sopping wet pussy along his pink dildo, pulling on his nipples and whimpering like a puppy while you watch him. His eyes are trained on your lower half as he watches you get off to him. Everything feels good, his pussy, his nipples, your gaze…but now that he's gotten a taste of it, he just wants your cock now. He wants to be good for you though, so he'll keep going as long as you want.
Tumblr media
868 notes · View notes
werepuppy-steve · 6 months ago
Text
got hit with the horny brain on the drive home and almost swerved off the road bc i thought of steve fucking one of those silicone sex dolls that's just the tits and pussy while eddie rails him from behind and says the filthiest things in his ear.
of steve getting lost in the fantasy and rubbing his thumb over the lubed rubber clit like he's trying to make this doll come. he swears he can almost feel the walls of its pussy clench around him, but it's only the stuttering of his own hips and the twitching of his own cock as eddie pounds against his prostate and makes him come inside the doll with a whine.
222 notes · View notes
nymime · 1 year ago
Text
I been looking some pics of Dita Von Teese, And holy shit, my mind just say Steve Harrington or Stevie Harrington, specially the ones in lingerie…. and corsets too.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pics: here
271 notes · View notes
steddie-island · 1 year ago
Text
@steddiemas day 3 - Needing to be quiet | WC: 2041 | Rating: E No content warnings, full list of tags are on ao3.
With Extra Nuts
Eddie had seen Steve at work before. He knew what the stupid Scoops uniform looked like, knew about the dorky shorts and the red scarf that went around his neck, and the little goddamn hat. He knew that, when everything was put together, the employees looked more like they were ready to put on a bad play. 
He’d never seen it on Steve, though. When Eddie saw him before work he hadn’t put it on yet, and after work Steve had already changed. To see Steve wearing it would have required either a. Steve putting it on and modeling for his boyfriend (which he was not going to do, thank you very much) or b. Eddie going to the mall, and when the hell would he have had a need for that? 
Except today he had a need. Today he had a need and some free time, and he was curious. Maybe he wanted to see his always perfect boyfriend looking just a little less perfect in that stupid ass uniform, so sue him. 
Only that wasn’t how it worked out. Eddie walked in, his smile wide and his eyes gleaming, his new records hanging from his hand. And then he stopped, right there smack in the middle of Scoops Ahoy. 
Goddammit. 
How did he manage to make even the uniform fucking hot?
Steve was there, in his little sailor suit and that goofy fucking hat, with his little ice cream scoop hanging around his waist. His eyes were so wide and so pretty, his lips were so pink as he smiled at a kid across the counter. Then those caramel eyes were flicking up, catching Eddie’s gaze, and Eddie was a goner. 
He started moving again, but the teasing smile was gone from his face. He leaned across the freezer, lowered his voice. “When’s your break?” he asked. No greeting, no ‘hey, big boy,’ nothing. 
Steve looked over at the clock, showing the two moles that Eddie loved running his thumb over when they were making out. “I can take it now. Everything okay?” he asked. Eddie wasn’t sure he could answer, not when Steve was looking at him like that, licking his lips like that, pushing his hat off to run his fingers through his hair– “Yeah. Now?”
Steve whistled, gestured towards Eddie with a tilt of his head. “Can you handle the counter for twenty minutes?” he asked Robin. 
All it took was one look at the way Eddie was holding himself with his fists clenched and his eyes fixed to Steve’s lips, his own mouth parted a little, and– “Yeah, get out of here,” she said, wrinkling her nose a little. Steve tucked his hat into his apron pocket and moved to take it off. 
“Leave it on,” Eddie murmured. His fingers had moved from a fist to drum against the top of the freezer. 
Steve looked at him, really looked at him, and it clicked. He grinned and dropped the scoop onto the counter before jerking his head towards the back. “Van?”
Normally Eddie would have said yes, would have loved to have Steve spread beneath him or on top of him in the back of his van. They’d done it a lot– not that they needed to sneak or anything when Steve had the whole house to himself. Eddie just loved it, the way the rest of the world got shut out as they fucked in the little nest he’d set up back there for them. They could lay there after with the doors open, and they could just talk for hours. They’d fallen asleep like that more than once. 
Today, though, Eddie was in too big a hurry. He followed Steve through the back room, out into a back hallway. “Where does this door take us?” he asked. Steve was headed for an exit, but Eddie didn’t have time to traverse the parking lot, and other people. He needed his hands in those tight ass shorts right the fuck now. 
“It’s a storage closet– Eddie!” 
Eddie pushed the door open, dragged Steve inside and kicked the door closed behind them. It was bigger than a regular storage closet, with a frosted glass window. When he tried to flick the lightswitch there was nothing. They were alone in the dark, save for the light filtering through the glass. He dragged Steve deep into the closet, behind a tall shelf. There was a table tucked into the corner, and with a sweep of his arms Eddie had half of it cleared off.
“How are you so goddamn hot in that?” he asked. He was smiling now that they were alone and he didn’t need to keep himself composed. “Jesus Christ, I knew the uniform was bad, but…” 
“But?” Steve pressed. 
“I’ve never wanted to get my hands on you so fast in my fucking life. This thing is dangerous, baby.” Eddie pushed Steve’s shirt up just to dip his fingers beneath the waistband of his shorts. “This thing should be fucking illegal.” Their lips met in a hungry kiss. Steve’s hands tangled in Eddie’s hair, and then Eddie’s hands were gripping Steve’s ass and pulling him closer. 
The kiss didn’t last long, because then Eddie’s teeth were against his throat and Steve was crying out softly. “Fuck– I don’t have long–” “We’ll owe Robin,” Eddie murmured. He pulled on the chain connecting his wallet to his jeans and dug through until he had the sample lube packet he carried around. (“For emergencies,” he’d said, when Steve had found it the first time. Who was fucking laughing now? Not Steve!)
Eddie turned Steve around, bent him over the table, had his shorts down and two slick fingers against his hole in record time. 
“Jesus, Eddie–” Steve looked back at him with dark eyes. “Never seen you like this–” “Never seen you like this,” Eddie retorted. While one thick finger started working Steve open, he leaned in to nip and bite at Steve’s neck. “Gonna fuck you, honey. Fuck you so good. You look so good, you know that? Know how good your ass looks in these shorts?”
Steve could barely speak when Eddie got like this. Between the words against his ear and the finger working him over in a way that made his knees weak, it was all he could do to just whimper Eddie’s name. “That’s it,” Eddie encouraged. He rolled his hips, let Steve feel his cock through his jeans. “You fucking did that to me. Just seeing you behind the counter, looking so goddamn good, sweetheart. Like a– a fuckin’ painting or somethin.” 
A second finger breached Steve’s entrance and Steve gasped. 
“Shoulda– shoulda shown you months ago,” he panted. “Fuck, Eddie, that’s– fuck–” Eddie’s fingers curled up towards his prostate once, twice, over and over. “You’re always so loud. Someone’s gonna hear you, gonna know you’re in here getting it so good.” “Eddie–” Steve dropped his forehead to the table and whined, rolled his hips back against those long fingers, essentially fucking himself onto them. “Oh my god–” Eddie pushed Steve’s shirt up to nip at his back. “Tell me when you can take more–” “Now! Now now, I can take it,” Steve promised. “Fuck, Eddie, please–” “So greedy.” Eddie obliged, pressed a third finger inside before latching on to Steve’s shoulder blade with his teeth to suck a dark hickey there. His other hand came around to stroke Steve’s cock in time with the movement of his fingers in Steve’s ass. 
It was too much, too fast. Steve barely had time to get his apron out of the way before he was coming with a shout that he muffled by burying his teeth into his own bicep. 
Eddie’s fingers were gone, and then his cock was there, the thick head pressing past his rim. “So fucking tight, sweetheart,” he panted. He gripped Steve’s hip with his lube covered hand and buried his other hand in that head of hair. 
“Eddie–” Steve tried to drive back, to get more, but Eddie’s hold was meant to keep him from moving. Steve could get away if he wanted to, but he really didn’t fucking want to. “Just relax, I’ve got you, Stevie,” Eddie reminded him before driving forward and burying himself with one smooth stroke. Steve couldn’t help but cry out with the sudden jolt of pleasure; if not for Eddie’s hands and the table, he would’ve hit the floor. 
“Oh god, Eddie, fuck–” “You good?” Eddie breathed. “Too much?”
“No, fuck no. Just– move?” Steve urged. “Need more–” Eddie groaned and buried his face in Steve’s neck. He picked up a quick, hard rhythm. Steve’s chest was flush to the table, his hands holding on to the other side to help keep upright. 
“Yes– yes–” he encouraged with breathy little moans. “So good–” “That how you want it?” Eddie asked. “Wanna walk funny? Let everyone know– fuck– know how much you love getting fucked like this, honey?” His breath came in puffs against Steve’s ear as he kept driving his hips forward. “Yes–” Steve sobbed out. “God yes–”
“Hello?” The door creaked open, letting in a beam of light that ended just outside of where they stood. If they moved back, they would be visible. “Is someone in here?”
Eddie had stilled with his hips flush against Steve’s ass, and Steve had his mouth against his arm again to keep himself quiet. The lightswitch flicked up, down, up, back down once more before the door closed and they were left alone again. 
Mostly alone, anyway. Whoever had interrupted them was still standing outside, their outline visible in a crack between boxes on one of the higher shelves, and they were talking to someone else. Eddie could hear the low murmur of their voices, and if they could hear the strangers then…
“You have to be quiet,” Eddie whispered as he started rolling his hips again. “Gotta be quiet for me, sweetheart, or they’ll walk in and find you like this.” Steve rocked back as much as he could as the desire surged through him. He didn’t want to be caught, but knowing someone was right outside? It was as dangerous as Eddie had claimed his uniform was. 
“Want me to stop?” Eddie murmured, his hips slowing. 
Steve shook his head and drove back, impaling himself again. 
They moved together, quiet and fast, Steve’s little moans and whimpers barely concealed as he got closer and closer to his orgasm. 
He couldn’t warn Eddie when it happened, he could only shudder through it and bite his arm again to keep himself as quiet as possible– a feat made even more difficult when he could feel Eddie spilling deep into his body. 
They slumped against the table to let their breathing even out again. By the time Eddie felt like he could stand up straight the voices outside were gone. He huffed out a laugh, slipped out of Steve carefully. “Fuck. Fuck, you okay, sweetheart?”
Steve nodded as he straightened up, too. “Gonna need a new apron,” he said, grinning a little. He pulled it off, then turned to use it to clean himself up.  
“Tell ‘em I’ll pay for it.” Eddie tucked himself away, smoothed his hand through his hair. He had the patience to wait until Steve was completely dressed– sans apron– to pull him in for a kiss. It was slow, languid, less desperate than their last kisses had been. 
“You’re fuckin’ perfect, did you know that?” Eddie whispered. 
Steve pinked a little. “You keep telling me that, I’m gonna start believing it,” he said. 
“Good.” Eddie pecked his lips, his cheek, leaned down to kiss his moles. He wanted to stay here forever– the ‘here’ being Steve’s arms, not in the storage closet. They couldn’t hide in here forever, though. 
“Guess I have to get you back to work,” he said as he smoothed Steve’s hair back from his face. 
“Guess so.” Steve sighed, stole another kiss before grabbing his hat and perching it on his head. “I’ll still see you tonight, right?” “Yeah, tonight.” As they left the closet, Eddie with his bag in hand once more, he stopped and caught Steve’s sleeve between his fingers. “And Steve? Wear the uniform.” 
143 notes · View notes
eyesofshinigami · 10 months ago
Text
Through Blood and Through Tears (I'm Still Here)
Rating: M
CW: None
Tags: Established relationship, Sexual Content, Top Eddie, Bottom Steve, Mentions of Steve's Bad Parents, Mentions of Eddie's Bad Parents, Itty bitty angst
Prompt: "Love is wanting to know everything about what makes up the person you're in love with, even the difficult stuff" from Anon.
WC: 1007
Written for @steddielovemonth Day 3
Sometimes being known is terrifying.
Eddie and Steve fell together not long after everything fell apart and was haphazardly sewn back together, including each other. How could they not, finding comfort in someone who understood, who got it. Neither of them had to explain the scars, the nightmares, the little quirks and tics they’ve picked up from the trauma they’ve suffered. They also knew the other ugly parts of the other. Late night talks when neither of them could sleep were good for that. Eddie learned about how scared Steve is to be left behind, to never be loved for who he was and not what he could do for the other person. And in turn, Eddie cracked open his own chest and let Steve see the twists of his own heart. How Eddie wants to escape because he doesn’t know how not to run away from the things that scare him, how he may seem like he doesn’t care, but in fact he cares so much it suffocates him.
Sometimes Eddie is scared that this might be the only reason they’re together. It’s easier to be with someone who doesn’t ask questions, whose scars mirror his own so that he doesn’t have to come up with a reason for why he looks the way he does. Or why his demons don’t always come at night, sometimes in the middle of the store or when Steve has him pinned against the bed. Maybe it’s convenience, maybe its just simpler this way.
But then Eddie remembers the way it feels when Steve kisses him, hot and wet and perfect. He remembers how it feels when Steve listens to him ramble about the chords he learned or the book he read yesterday. He thinks about the way he loves how excited Steve gets about learning new recipes to make for them, or how good it feels to curl up on the couch together and watch movies until they both fall asleep.
He thinks about the way that their bodies move together under the moonlight. How Eddie never flinches when Steve’s hands roam across the damaged canvas of Eddie’s skin, touching each scar with a reverence like his boyfriend is worshipping at an altar. How Steve lets Eddie into his heart, into his body, rocking into each other over and over again until it bursts into pleasure that makes them forget for a little while.
It's the sweaty press of bodies, curled around each other to fight back against the nightmares they both can’t outrun.
It’s talk of how they plan to get out of this town, away from prying eyes and whispered words and too small minds. It’s shared fears about never amounting to anything, to being the sum of all the shitty things their fathers ever said about them. Steve’s scared he can’t escape from Richard Harrington’s shadow and Eddie’s scared that he’ll be trapped by the deeds of Al Munson for the rest of his life.
They are more than the sum of their fathers, they remind each other with kisses and touches and whispered words in the middle of the night.
So they make plans. They talk of where to go from here, what place will the safest to land once they get their feet under them. Eddie wants to go to California, Steve is happy with Chicago. They bicker and argue but it always ends with them deciding home will be wherever the other is, and that’s good enough for now.
It won’t ever be perfect, Eddie knows. They’re both stubborn fucks with scars inside and out, and sometimes that turns into yelling and words they don’t mean. Even then, they don’t let the ugly parts win, they come back together and try to fix what cracked but didn’t break. They’re both learning, figuring out how to navigate this thing that’s still so new but feels like a forever kind of love.
Eddie contemplates all of this in the dark, pressed up against Steve and tracing the softness of his lover’s skin beneath his fingertips. They’re both broken, both a little ugly, but somehow their jagged edges of each other fit in a way that Eddie doesn’t always understand but refuses to question. It just is.
“Nightmare?” Steve asks, voice hoarse with sleep. He turns over and presses against Eddie, the lines of their bodies touching everywhere they can.
“Nope. Just thinking about how much I love you,” Eddie replies. It might be a bit too early to say now, too raw, but he can’t keep it in. He loves Steve, all of him, even the parts that are ugly and broken and kept hidden away.
Steve smiles, pulling him into a kiss. He feels Steve open underneath him, legs spread and his cock hard as they rub against each other. It’s not long until Eddie’s breathless, full of love and want for the man beneath him. He reaches down to rub across where he’d been inside Steve hours earlier, finding him still wet and open. “Yeah?” he asks, even as Steve bucks up against him.
“Yeah,” Steve breathes against his mouth. Steve’s hand snakes down, takes Eddie in his grip and guides him to where he wants him, gasping when Eddie starts to slide inside. It probably stings, isn’t the smartest idea, but neither of them seem to care. They’ll take the hurt with the pleasure they both know will fill their bones and chase away the empty spaces. “Fuck, Eds.”
Eddie nods against Steve’s neck, slowly pushing inside until he’s carved himself a space inside Steve, pressed tight against the man he wants to love for the rest of his life. “So good, baby,” Eddie says in between kisses, in between thrusts.
Sometimes Eddie gets scared. So does Steve. But moments like this? Moments like this remind him that they’re both here, love filling in the broken, ragged parts of them. They’ve seen the best and seen the worst of each other, and they’re both still right here. Right where they want to be.
79 notes · View notes
katyawriteswhump · 6 months ago
Text
Closer–a stranger summer/steddie microfic
For @astrangersummer wk 4 prompts, outdoors/camping and @steddiemicrofic May prompt, ‘top.’ Thank you also to @bananahoneycomb and yesdanger for inspiration on discord :) All my stranger things fic are also here on AO3
Rating: M CW: sex Words: 510  Tags: established steddie, hurt/comfort, smut, nightmares, cute, fluff, post s4 eddie lives, top eddie, bottom steve.
...
Eddie rolled into another excruciatingly uncomfortable position on the lumpy earth.
“The great outdoors sucks,” he informed the Milky Way, which swept above him. “It's a one-way-ticket to insomnia-ville.”
In the adjacent sleeping bag, Steve snored softly.
This had been Steve’s idea: “We saved the world. It totally owes us good times.”
Nonsensically to Eddie, 'good times’ included sleeping on a hilltop under the stars.
Now, Eddie rested his chin in his hand and watched Steve sleep. Steve looked pretty, bathed in moonlight. Eddie’s heart swelled with love. Christ, if he told Steve how cute his sleepy snufflings were, Steve would chew his head off.
Wouldn’t change my bitchy darling for a sell-out gig at the Garden…
Steve gasped, began fighting his sleeping bag. “No! Robin!”
“Sssssh, Babe.” Eddie leaned over Steve, whose arm escaped his cocoon, flailing wildly.  “Ow!”
Steve sat up. “Wha—?”
“Bad dream?” Eddie rubbed his nose, not exactly stunned. The nightmares usually started when they both slept, and Steve rolled out of Eddie’s arms. “Bats or creepy vines, honey?”
“Both.” Steve blinked. “Shit, did I..?”
“You’re no demo-bat. See? No blood.”
Steve buried his fingers in his messy hair. “Jesus, I’m sorry. This idea was dumb. Thank Christ the kids ditched us, Robin cycled home, and—"
“Shhh.” Eddie pressed his forefinger to Steve’s lips. “I got to watch your ass go as you raced to the summit. Totally worth it.” Steve’s mouth quirked toward a smile. “Besides, it’s my turn to look after you. In hospital, you sat with me so long, Wayne complained he couldn’t get a front-row seat. Cuddle?”
Steve nodded, squeezed into Eddie’s sleeping bag. Spooning Steve from behind, Eddie rubbed circles on Steve’s belly, till Steve stopped trembling.
Eddie might’ve dozed off then. However, his dick nestled against Steve’s ass…
“Seriously?” Steve scrubbed against Eddie’s semi.
“Up for it, honey?”
“Totally. But the kids—"
“—lit a campfire miles away.”
“Fine. I wanna feel something other than my skin crawling with horror.”
Eddie wrapped his hand around Steve’s dick.
“Not that,” Steve mumbled. “Want to feel you in me, dipshit.”
“Your wish is my command, Princess.”
“Shut the fu—Gnng!”
Eddie hand-jobbed Steve into a frenzy anyhow, then worked his fingers into Steve, slicked with lube and mingled juices. When Eddie finally eased inside, Steve clenched super-hard about him, which was super-sweet.
Nearly pushed Eddie over the edge waaaaay too soon. He paused, relishing Steve’s growling gasps.
“You finally snoozing, Munson?”
“Nope. Finally waking up.”
He fucked Steve hard. Steve finally quit complaining: “Yes. Th-there. Pleeease… Christ!”
They both came hard—Steve yelling and messily—before snuggling in Steve’s fresh sleeping bag.
Seven hours later, Steve flipped over in the circle of Eddie’s arms.
“Good sleep, Stevie?”
“Best in forever. Love being so close. You?”
“Pretty shitty. I crave my soft mattress. Buuuut… I've a theory what might stop the nightmares.” Steve started apologising. Eddie kissed Steve’s nose: “I reckon we should try sharing my sleeping-bag every night, home-sweet-home in bed.”
“Okay,” mumbled Steve. “Jesus, I came all over the thing! Let’s launder it first, right?”
88 notes · View notes
decadentworld · 2 years ago
Note
Hi!! Can I request Steve having his first time bottoming with reader? Im sure he would tbe the one you would have to take more time with, specialy since hes always been the top and only been with woman. I really love reading your longer fics where it all builds up. thankyou!!!
Anon, tell me why I keep making my request fills longer and longer? I hope I’m not being too exaggerated with the length of this one.
Tumblr media
Notions.
A story divided into moments.
Steve thinks back to all the moments that lead to him being in this position. Literally.
※ Bottom Steve Harrington/Top Male Reader.
※ 23,391 words.
※ Requested by Anonymous.
※ +18. Minors do not interact.
※ Content and warnings: First time bottoming. Gentle manhandling. Praise kink. Slightest D/s dynamics (Submissive Steve Harrington/Dominant Male Reader). Brief allusion to subspace. Laughter during sex. Discussions about gender roles and stereotypes. Porn with a bit of plot. Allusions to dyslexia.
※ Both characters are canonically 18 or older.
※ Work available only on Tumblr and under ArchiveOfOurOwn pseud of the same name (DecadentWorld). Do not repost, edit, or redistribute. Do not use for TikTok videos.
Tumblr media
I.
It’s already scary enough for Steve to be in a relationship with a man. Steve from two years ago, no, one year ago… perhaps even less: Steve from six months ago would have never imagined he’d ever have a significant other he would call a boyfriend instead of a girlfriend. How curious are life’s many twists and turns. It just so happens that this latest relationship of his has been the steadiest in a good while. Just shy of three months, but Steve feels it so much different from any relationship he’s ever had.
Especially from Nancy.
How to describe the contrast between you and her? He could start by the obvious: she’s a girl, you’re a guy. That’s easy. It wasn’t that easy at first, though. Steve’s only known he’s bisexual for just a bit longer than you’ve been together. It wasn’t a smooth transition, being able to put in words that he was also interested in men. It has been like that for a long time for Steve, always noticing that maybe Harrison Ford seemed a bit more handsome to him than to other guys at school. Not that he ever said it out loud. What’s always been easy for him to understand is that he could not be saying these things out loud, lest he accidentally out himself. Even at the time he wasn’t aware of his own bisexuality.
It’s different, thinking about girls and thinking about guys —a single guy, for the moment. The girls he’s been with were usually dainty, pretty, curvaceous. Soft. All things that truly appeal to Steve.
But you? A man?
Oh, boy.
You’re nothing like them. Whereas they were small, you’re big. And while they normally let themselves be led —like they expected Steve to take the reins, because both they and Steve believed it was their and Steve’s God-given place—, you’re independent. You don’t wait for any of Steve’s cues for anything at all, because this has been discussed between the two of you, which at the time gave him the biggest realization of his life: that there’s no need for there to be roles if it doesn’t feel right for both parties.
Even as this has been said, understood, and internalized… Steve started wondering early into the relationship how it would feel like if these roles (again, non-existent if not desired) were… reversed.
And you noticed. And you started to respond in kind.
It’s something new and fun to explore.
There’s more. Steve’s a pretty tall guy, and, sure, it’s rare to find taller girls. He’s always been the one to be looked up to. That would absolutely not be a problem for him at all. He liked, when he was with girls, to lean on them, to playfully put his chin atop their head, to surprise them by hoisting them —Nancy— up when they —she— least expected it.
And now?
There was one time when you did exactly the same to him. He’ll never forget the fuzzy feeling he experienced at that moment. He gave you a screaming giggle, hoping you wouldn’t notice the strong blush on his face. (You did). And when you released him and he stumbled while looking for his footing once again, he turned around, looked up at you, and…
And made this face, see, like he was having an epiphany.
It was as if he only then realized how much taller and bigger and stronger than him you were.
It was something endearing to see, that time. Steve looked as if he didn’t know what to say. His mouth was trying to form the words, but he seemed like he was also embarrassed by his inability to speak, because he looked like he was holding in a nervous laugh at the same time. And when he realized that he was truly speechless, he could only emit a little titter, tip his eyes down with an even darker flush, and bring a hand up his head to put a lock of his hair behind his ear.
The hair behind the ear is what pretty much sealed the deal. It was at that moment that Steve thought for the first time: Is this how girls would usually feel?
“Everything okay, sweetheart?”, you asked then, if only to tease him further, because you somehow knew what he was going through.
And he could only mumble incoherently.
II.
Let’s go back to this change of dynamics for a second. Steve will never not be left reeling after he experiences any of the small pushes you give against his idea of ‘set role’. Any time he feels like his preconceptions are challenged, like when you experiment with his notion of a previously self-thought assertive person, he so gracefully takes it in stride. Enjoys it, even, which is great, and Steve senses you two are reaching an unspoken agreement of sorts:
He’s going to gradually let you take the reins of the relationship.
This is so new to him. Sometimes, it downright terrifies him how alright he is with it. He feels like he should be more combative about it, but…
Steve is curious, alright? He can’t stop recalling the time before you were together when you playfully asked him to compare hand sizes, one of the most overt romantic advances in history that he fortunately responded positively to. If not enthusiastically. And, oh, how very bothered he ended up when you actually pressed your right hand to his left one, palm to fingertips, because he only then became aware of how much bigger your hand was, compared to his. His reaction at that moment was unforgettable. It was similar to the one he had when you first surprise-hoisted him up. All blushy, unable to hide it.
One of the first few times in his life he was truly abashed.
He keeps remembering with each day that passes, with each newfound sensation he gets when he’s with you. There are a series of similar happenings he can’t get enough of. These involve the times when you’re teaching him how to cook.
Listen. Steve Harrington knows he sucks at cooking, alright? But that’s because no mother of his has ever taken the time to teach him basic stuff, such as the amount of time an egg needs to be boiled, and no father of his has ever handed him tongs or a spatula and told him how he’s exactly supposed to flip burgers at a barbecue. He knows he has some of the fault in this. His past as a spoiled brat has left him reliant on the housekeeper who always leaves the fridge stocked, with meals ready to be microwaved at a moment’s notice. And after, it’s not like he had any interest or time in reading any sort of cookbooks when he was constantly stressing over the end of the world.
The fact that every time he tries his hand at cooking he keeps burning that same meal leaves him crestfallen and uninterested in anything else.
So, when you one day visited him and saw how stressed out he was, fluttering around the kitchen, you knew you had to intervene.
“Are you okay, Steve?”, you asked worriedly, watching him turning his back to you, almost frenzied, stirring on a pot and attempting to do something else you couldn’t see from your position while also making quick glances at a book on the kitchen counter.
“Yeah. Uh, I mean…” Steve twisted his head at you and quickly back at the stove. “I mean…” He seemed to trail off, too busy and perhaps even frantic, fully focused on what he was doing.
“You sure?”, you pushed.
“Uh…” A quick turn of his head towards the book and you could suddenly feel his exasperation. “Shit! It was supposed to be half a spoonful? Not a— fucking spoonful and a half.” It was obvious that he was thinking out loud.
You approached him, then, from his left side so he could see what you were doing. A nervous and disheartened glance at your arrival told you everything you needed to know. You put your right hand on the low of his back. “Doesn’t look like ‘okay’ to me, sweetheart.”
Steve gave you a long, sad look, and turned off the dials on the stove. He heaved a brooding sigh. “It was supposed to be a surprise. I thought this’d be easier and quicker to make.”
You smiled at him. He was too sweet. “Honey. You were making me food?”
Steve looked to the side. “Yeah… but, apparently, I’m too stupid for that, too.” He didn’t want to cry over this. He thought he would look even more stupid if he did.
You knew he was spiraling, and you wouldn’t let him. You were familiar with how hard he was on himself on a good day, but you also knew how bad that would get when he was trying to give you his displays of affection. So you brought the hand you had on his lower back up to his chin, softly stroking it with your thumb, catching the gorgeous shy look he was giving you. “You’re not. I forbid you from calling yourself that.”
“Yeah, well…”
“Seriously, Steve. You’re not stupid. Whoever told you that, they’re all levels of wrong.”
His eyes strayed anywhere else, and he muttered: “I call myself that.”
“Well. You’re wrong, then.”
Steve quickly glanced up at you again. There was so much conviction in what you said that he just had to bite his lower lip to hold back a smile.
You smiled, too. You lead his head closer to yours, noticing how breathless he got, and gave him a slow and sweet kiss on his lips. When you withdrew, he was looking up at you with stars in his eyes. “You’re a sweet boy. You were cooking for me. That’s so lovely.”
Maybe you understood that he liked a little bit of praise, too, that day, if the way he looked down and to the side with the lightest dusting of pink on his face was indication enough.
But that expression was rapidly being overshadowed by dejection.
“I don’t know what I’m doing here. I can’t seem to follow basic instructions. It’s like the words get mixed up, or something.” He looked back at the cookbook and your hand fell from his chin.
“Hm.” You skimmed over the contents of the book, and glanced back at the previous preparations he had on the stove. “I got this one. Mind if I help you?”
Steve bit his lip. “How?”
And you—
You got behind him. Pressed your chest to his back. And took each of his hands in yours.
Steve gasped.
“Like this?”, you asked. “You might be able to learn a thing or two better if you have the muscle memory.”
Sure. Muscle memory, Steve thinks, among the haze that his mind has become. The warmth of your bigger body against his makes it hard to think of anything else. But he claws himself out of it long enough to answer: “Uh— Y-Yeah. Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay!”, he reiterates, with a giddy smile you can’t see and a nervous titter present in his voice.
You chuckle as well.
That day was the first time Steve sincerely felt like he was being… eased into a lighter headspace. The way you guided his hands while chopping ingredients on the cutting board, while sliding them into a pot, even while in the act of properly washing his hands under the faucet and drying them as well… It all had him almost breathless. It was the first occasion in which he didn’t mind relinquishing that previously-thought position he had believed he had to occupy, once upon a time.
And how to describe the feeling?
It felt like a weight off his shoulders. It felt like something he thought should’ve always been present in his life.
It felt natural. Not forced.
That feeling of being enveloped, not only by your bigger and warmer frame, but by this sense of a guiding hand you were giving him, was slowly turning him into mush on the inside, and setting off a fuzzy sensation inside him, like a tickling feeling. It was causing chaos inside his mind, and he didn’t want it any other way.
Which made following your instructions a lot harder, but, hey, that’s why you were being his puppeteer, right?
“Pay attention, baby.” Your murmuring next to his ear had the exact opposite effect.
“I am,” he choked out.
God. His cheeks were so red by that point. Steve found himself abashed knowing that you could see him, because your head was lying on his shoulder, right against his. And the way his heart was pounding, reverberating through his body and through yours against his, was so obvious he knew you would’ve been able to sense it even if you’d been on the other side of the room.
But he found some solace in the fact that yours was pounding, too.
That is the flashback —or rather, string of flashbacks, since you had to keep teaching him how to make different meals— that keeps him going whenever he gets too much into the particular idea that he’s doing something wrong. Because he’s not. Steve feels right when you make him feel like this, and no amount of bigoted ideas drilled into his mind since he had use of reason will stop him from coming back to those moments.
III.
And what moments. Steve has a little problem every time he remembers the first few times he was intimate with you. A man.
Hoo, boy. It’s so different with a guy. The change —or rather, lack— of dynamics would make for interesting situations in bed. And on the couch. And by the entrance door. And…
Well. You can’t blame Steve. It’s as if this new relationship, this new revelation, re-awakened his high libido he thought broken after the whole supernatural shebang. At first, it was he who would eagerly turn you around against the wall after you initially did, turning the previous make-out session into something hot and heavy that would leave him bothered. You would let him, because you understood how new and inexperienced he was with a male, and wanted him to be fully comfortable. He would fall into place and push his own hips against yours, feeling thoroughly thrown off in the best way at feeling something similar growing and pressing against himself. Then he would do it faster, harsher, getting light-headed when he’d feel your big hands on his lower back, urging him until he would muffle a shout in your chest and cum in his pants like it was the first time he’d ever had an orgasm.
But then, as more times followed, and more items of clothing would gradually disappear, Steve would find himself as the recipient of these same actions. The first time was the exact same situation: against the wall. Only, he was the one trapped against it and your body, and he was the one to be rutted against.
And this peculiar feeling of confinement wasn’t unpleasant.
The second time was on your couch. There was excitement in the fact that you two were slowly turning more horizontal. He tentatively let you arrange him to be sitting against one of the arm rests with his legs extended while you kneeled in the space between them. There was also comfort in the fact that you would check on him every five or so minutes, so that Steve would understand that that position was a choice fully of his own, and that he could tap out at any moment if he needed to. And so, the fun would heighten, and he would totally feel out of his depth when he understood that he didn’t have that much space or momentum to rut against you, and that he would have to receive more than he had to give.
He would have to take it.
And this knowledge made his heart beat so fast it’d feel like it was coming out of his chest, and it turned his face into the most appealing shade of pink, and it would pull the prettiest moans and the prettiest expressions out of him, and it made his legs shake like they had never before with a girl, and it had him coming in his pants and covering his mouth in shame at the loud moan that threatened to escape him.
And the third time was the first time he had the courage to ask to undress you, and you responded in kind and asked if you could undress him in turn, and suddenly you’d both be on your bed, only one layer of clothing left.
Steve would take off the last item of clothing of his by himself, the first time he’d ever be sheepish in a sexual encounter. You would compliment his size, because it was a very nice-looking cock indeed. There was no doubt over why he’d been called King Steve in the past.
But when your own underwear was off, he gasped and sat up in shock. In alarm, perhaps. Because, sure, he was King Steve, who was the subject of mainly nice rumors…
But you?
It was ridiculous. There had to be a limit.
So, understanding how apprehensive he was, you would comfort him, tell him you didn’t have to do anything if he changed his mind.
But Steve surprised you, and he smiled timidly, seeming to cover his mouth with one hand while he simply looked at it.
He would exhale, almost as if he was chuckling. Nervously, of course. “It’s…”
“Yeah. I know.” Your apologetic smile put him just a teeny bit more at ease.
Steve looked at your cock, then at you, then at it again, one jittery hand hovering in the air close to your body. “Um…”
“D’you wanna touch it?”, you encouraged him. You grabbed his right hand with all the softness in the world. You leant up on your right elbow and laid your head on your hand, trying to transmit as much ease as you could to him.
“Yeah. Okay,” he answered shyly, and he shortened the distance until his hand was gently palming your half-hard cock.
Steve heaved in a breath. It felt…
It felt so similar, yet so different. New. Exciting. He stroked with an open palm up and down once, releasing a small titter at your pleased hum.
You would not leave him unattended, of course. Your own left hand slowly approached him, first resting on his folded left leg. Your big hand stroked up and down his thigh twice, hearing his excited shaky breath, and came to rest on the juncture of his leg and hip.
You looked at him, noticing he was biting his lower lip in anticipation. So you didn’t tease him anymore, and finally wrapped your hand around his erect cock.
Steve released a silent moan and his eyes closed on their own for one moment, until he felt your initial first strokes and just had to watch you. He released a disappointed little noise that made you smile when you let his cock go, only to go red as a cherry afterward when he realized his little slip-up.
You chuckled. It was clear that this situation was so new to him, so much so that he didn’t know how to handle his own reactions. “Cute.”
Steve tried to hide. Impossible. His pink flush covered every part of his head, down to his neck and hairy chest. “‘M not cute.”
You straightened until you were sitting up, used one hand on the bed and another one on his thigh as leverage, and closed up on him, until you were leaning into him. Steve looked at you from under his lashes when you did this, biting his lip in anticipation, because the point of contact on his thigh, so very close to his hard cock, was making it hard to think about anything else. “You are.” The other hand that wasn’t on his thigh then slid to the back of his head, and you ran your fingers through his hair. He exhaled heavily. “There’s no fighting me on this.”
That’s how you slowly guided him into a steamy kiss, at the same time that you took hold of his cock once more, feeling more than hearing his muffled moan against your mouth. You stroked him, softly, just so enough that he would push his hips towards your hand, aching for more.
You were feeling particularly mean that day. Your hand kept its slow pace and you felt just how much that agitated Steve. He withdrew from the kiss and gave you this expression, like he was all but holding in the biggest pout ever. You only raised your eyebrow at him, secretly thrilled at his neediness. “Want anything?”, you teased him.
“Yeah. You know.” Steve’s face was so pink. You knew how much of a novel it was for him to have to actively ask for something, rather than simply do it himself, if only because he was still getting used to this fun change of dynamics.
“Oh, but I don’t. Do enlighten me.” You got all close and personal with Steve by this point, noticing his averting eyes. “Use your words, baby.”
At that, Steve could only bite his lip. He mumbled something, too low for you to hear.
“Sorry. What was that?” You smirked at him, because it was obvious that he was enjoying being teased so much.
“Do it faster,” Steve reiterated, unable to look at you by then.
“Do what faster, exactly?”
Steve made this embarrassed noise, something between a grumble and a whine. He hid his red face in the pillow under him while you chuckled. “Stroke me. Faster.”
You bit your lip while he couldn’t see you. You thought it was too early to test the waters for it, even though you were extremely sure he was starving for praise, so you settled with telling him: “Good.”
Steve’s eye peeked from the pillow’s soft cotton when you said this, and you knew you had hit the nail right on the head, if the way his face softened when you said it was indicative enough.
Then you complied with his request. Steve went from an embarrassed mess to a shameless one after only a few seconds of intense stroking. He shifted on the bed until his face was fully visible again, and you were able to see the way it transformed from his pleasure before your eyes. With no clothes to act as a hindrance, he could feel everything.
And even then, he took you by surprise. Without warning, he started stroking you with the same speed you did to him. You met his eyes. He had a particular glint in his that led you to understand he was feeling competitive.
You raised an eyebrow.
He bit his lip, like he was holding back a smile, even as his moans were momentarily muffled. Then, he gave you that same verbal confirmation for your thoughts, even though it was quite far off from what you had been expecting:
“You want me to go faster? Use your words.”
But he said it with such a waver in his voice and with such a deep shade of pink on his face that you couldn’t help but cackle at him. Steve’s face turned pouty as you did, but he knew you weren’t being mean on purpose. It was just so fun to think that he wanted to return to his former place on top, like he was trying to flip your own game on you.
How wrong he was to think that you would go down without a fight.
You chuckled a bit more. “Cute.”
“What?”, he asked with a shaky voice, subtly pushing his hips into the tunnel of your left hand.
“It’s cute that you think you can win this game.”
Steve’s face got impossibly redder. He closed his eyes for a second while his mouth opened in a silent moan, but tried to compose himself afterward. You leered at him, each time more convinced that he did have a little bit of a praise kink. He steeled his face as much as he could afterward, intently looking at you. “It’s not— It’s not a game if you’re not even trying to beat me.”
You smirked. “Oh, so you want me to put up a bit of a fight?”
“I mean,” Steve started, trying to look nonchalant. “…if you’re not a coward.”
You chuckled lowly at him. Then, you got close to him, trying to blanket his body with yours, but he was ready for it and met you in the middle. He kissed you hard, attempting to overpower you. That made you chuckle within the kiss, something that made him grunt in something similar to annoyance in response. Your hand moved faster and harder on his cock, a heavenly feel to him as the amount of pre-cum he was leaking made things easier, resulting in an intense handjob, made all the more vivid from your rough and calloused hands.
Even as he moaned freely in the kiss, he was still trying to get you to lie under him. His hand imitated your own’s movements, though you could feel the slight tremor his was showing. He tried to overcompensate by opening your mouth and pushing his tongue onto yours.
You raised your eyebrows at this, but kept this little game he didn’t know he had lost before he had even started. On one twist of your hand, his hips pushed up higher up and his cock accidentally brushed against yours, making him yelp and making you grunt. You withdrew to look at him and noticed the redness of his face overtaking his neck and chest now. Clearly, he was trying to keep up, but the haze of pleasure was making it difficult.
Still, he pushed on and attempted to lay the expanse of his body on yours, still stroking you fast. It seemed like he forgot how much stronger than him you were, because you didn’t even budge an inch.
As this dawned upon him, you did the same to him while in his stupor, gently pushing forward to lay him down until he was completely horizontal on the bed. He put his free hand on your chest, and you stopped in your tracks, wondering if he wanted to stop.
But when he started trying to push you back and to the side, you understood it was all still part of the game. Steve’s face took on an annoyed expression, like he was truly bothered about not being strong enough to overpower you.
He decided to up the ante and released your cock, using now both hands to attempt to subdue you, opting to clutch your hips with his legs to gain enough momentum to toss you aside.
You didn’t move at all. Instead, all that did was rub your cocks together.
Steve moaned, starting to understand that it was a lost battle.
And you chuckled again, releasing his cock to hold yourself up over him. “See, I think it’d be easier if you just admitted defeat.”
Steve groaned, but it was clear that he was trying to hold back a smile. “Not a chance.” He thrashed on the bed, putting all his strength in his limbs for a strong shove.
He managed to push you aside for a second thanks to the momentum, but as soon as he wanted to imitate your previous position, you were on him again. You wrestled on the bed for some seconds. You were delighted with the small giggles he was releasing, knowing how fun this change felt to him.
You laughed back at him once you were just like before: holding yourself up over him. This time, your hands held his shoulders softly, but firmly, pressing him down into the mattress.
Steve’s hands shot up at you, but you quickly grabbed his wrists and put them to the sides of his head. When you did this, he quieted down, and his face took on an even darker shade.
You softened the grip on his wrists just to make sure he was alright with it, but he didn’t move them an inch. Instead, his body went lax under you.
It was such a heady sight. “I win.”
Steve blinked out of his stupor for a second. “Y-Yeah. I guess.” He tried to look annoyed, but he just looked like he was holding back a nervous smile.
“Do you surrender?”, you drawled out, getting close to him, close enough to breathe the same air as him.
His heart was beating so fast. “I guess,” he mumbled, trying to look like this was a hassle for him, but the pink on his face wasn’t receding.
“You guess?”
Steve gave you a look, like he was annoyed. Then, he thrashed once again, attempting to use the element of surprise to overthrow you once more, but you were prepared.
With the grip on his wrists, you held his writhing body down and turned him around on the bed, softly, an intoxicating contrast to what he was expecting.
Steve gasped, genuinely feeling small at the feel.
You managed to lay him down until you were enveloping his body with yours, your chest pressing against his back.
When Steve felt this, he gave you a moan he’d never heard himself make. His face was almost squished against the pillow, and the feeling of being utterly overpowered was making his thoughts go haywire.
You released his left hand while you gently twisted his right one until it was held against the low of his back. At the same time, your hard cock brushed against his right cheek on accident.
Steve gasped.
“Don’t worry. I’m not gonna do anything weird right now.”
He was secretly relieved. You released his hand, which remained against his back even then, holding yourself up and your hips pushed off the bed just in case, so that your cock wouldn’t come in contact with him anymore. Steve noticed this but didn’t say anything at first, and he couldn’t after, when you took hold of his cock that was pressed in-between his belly and the mattress and started stroking it fast at once. He moaned loudly and freely.
“That’s it, baby. That’s so good.”
Steve moaned even louder at that. He didn’t know why that simple word made him feel all fuzzy inside. But you did.
He reached back with his left hand until he could touch your hips. “It’s— fine. You can…” He attempted to press you against him.
“You sure?”, you asked him; despite this, you complied immediately and pushed your hips against his ass, though you lowered your body a bit so that your cock wouldn’t be in direct contact with his ass.
“Yeah, but it’s— you can—” Steve pressed his face against the pillow from the embarrassment when he tried to push you higher up with his left hand behind him. “It’s okay if… but we don’t… Jesus, don’t make me say it.”
You chuckled. You pressed your body against him, angling your hips so that the length of your hard cock would be pressing between his cheeks, pointing downwards.
Steve almost shouted at the feel.
That was how you managed to make Steve feel even more helpless: your entire body pressed against the back of his against the bed led him to rut against your right hand in desperation.
You kissed his nape to give him some comfort. “Just this. I don’t think you’re ready for that.”
The back of his neck burned with abashment. “Yeah. You’re right. I mean, I think. I mean—”
You chuckled and gave his neck more little kisses. He released a small titter because of his nervousness. “Trust me. You aren’t.”
Steve bit his lip where you couldn’t see him. You just kept stroking him, the feeling of being enveloped by you adding on to his mental haze. He tentatively shifted his hips to chase more of the feel of your hand, but in doing so he also incidentally rubbed his ass on your cock.
Steve didn’t know why that pushed him so close to the edge.
You’d never heard Steve make such a sound— he was all but whimpering deliriously. Steve realized this and covered his mouth with his left hand, grabbing onto the sheets next to his head with his right one.
He was so adorable. You knew he was embarrassed from his own reactions to this change. “Does that feel good?”, you grunted next to his ear as you shifted your hips to rub against his rear again.
Steve blubbered something unintelligible, legs folding on their own, as if he was close.
You cackled at him. “Babe. I asked you a question.”
“What— Ah, fuck— Y-Yeah. Yeah.” Steve’s was all but writhing on the bed by that point. “Wh-Why does it feel so good?”
“We can talk about it later. For now…” Your hand was a blur between his belly and the mattress while you rubbed your cock on his ass. “… I want you to cum just like this. Come on, sweetness. Make a mess.”
You knew just how nonsensical he got when he came on a good day. But you didn’t know this would be a strong orgasm, so you weren’t prepared for the way he moaned, almost like it hurt, when he had the most intense orgasm he’d had to date, spurting lines upon lines of cum, as if you’d edged him for hours. God. His face was probably the best part, but you couldn’t see him from your position. Such a shame. His little whines would probably embarrass him if he had more coherence that moment.
After coming like a literal freight train for what seemed like minutes, you knew he was done when he relaxed on the bed. His breaths were quick and deep, like he couldn’t draw in enough air.
Your hard cock was twitching from its snug position between his cheeks, but you ignored it for the while. Your mouth started making its way to his, starting from his nape, where you left slow kisses, until you reached his red cheek. Steve was too out of it to respond.
You lifted yourself off his body, and he still didn’t acknowledge you. You gently manhandled his body and rolled it around, until he was lying on his back on the bed, next to the frankly impressive cumstain on the sheets. Steve’s eyes were closed and his breathing only then started to return to normal. You kneeled between his parted legs.
Steve finally opened his eyes, seeming to just then realize that his position had been changed without his knowledge.
“Back on the land of the living?”
He breathed in and out a couple of times before he chuckled, shyly, rolling his eyes at you. “Jesus, dude.” Steve took in the hard cock that was looming over his own spent one, the heat from yours so strong that he could feel it in the proximity. He bit his lip, extending a shaky hand forward and taking your cock in it. “You’re still…”
“Yeah,” you answered nonchalantly.
“I… let me…?” Steve looked up at you in question.
As if he ever needed confirmation from you. “Whatever you want, baby.”
He steeled himself and started stroking you, slowly at first, but quickly building up the pace until his hand was a blur on you.
You closed your eyes and bit your lip. “Won’t be too long, now.” Your hips freely pushed to and fro within the tunnel of his hand.
Steve was taken aback by this at first, but the visual rapidly turned the feelings inside him into something fuzzy and hot and.
And. Big.
And when you moaned in that low voice of yours, it was like one of the few remaining notions in his mind were broken once again: the contrast between a feeble and feminine voice against this gruff and masculine one was unmistakable. He welcomed this change too much. He’d thought he couldn’t get any more flustered, but he’d been wrong.
As you leant down and held yourself over Steve on your hands and knees, Steve thought he’d never felt smaller than at that moment. His heart was pounding so hard from the feeling of being caged in, but he —even with his terrible experiences with being trapped, confined, restricted in any way— felt safe, not cornered.
You opened your eyes just in time to see another one of those epiphanies he continuously had those days. You smirked at him, and Steve glanced at you before his eyes strayed downwards again, mesmerized with the sight of your cock thrusting into his fist.
Which. Well. Might have been just the tiniest beginning of a second epiphany that day.
“‘Find out something new?”, you grunted out, already close.
Steve looked up at you once more, mouth opening but then closing, biting his lip in that shy way you were so familiar with. “Maybe…”, he mumbled.
You gave him a low laugh before you bit your lip and closed your eyes, face twisted in bliss. “Getting close.”
Steve seemed to breathe faster at that. He only nodded, almost enthusiastically, and his hand stroked you even faster. He gave you a quick sultry look, and you were left wondering what it meant before his left hand went under the one he had on your member, and rolled your testes with it.
You growled at him, hearing his intake of breath at it, before you lent forward, closer to him, hovering only shy of a foot over him. You opened your eyes to see him looking almost frantic, unable to choose between looking at your face or at your cock, before you closed the distance and gave him a short, steamy kiss.
Steve whined a little when you withdrew, because you were suddenly coming on his stomach, grunting from the release. He kept stroking you through it, drawing in breaths from his open mouth as you added to the mess on his stomach.
His cock valiantly tried to fill for a second.
Once you were done, you smiled at him, noticing his sheepish expression. You rolled to the part of the bed that wasn’t stained with his cum and lay down on your side.
Steve’s eyes were shyly straying away from yours, but he wasn’t able to look away for too long, always coming back to your own or to the mess you made on his belly.
You used the hand that wasn’t stained with his cum to stroke a finger across his cheekbone. “So? What did you think?”, you asked him, as you reached behind you without looking to grab some tissues.
“W-Well…” He looked adorable. He lowered his face down to your chest, so hopelessly trying to hide the blush on his face, but it was useless. He giggled against your skin. “It was… something.”
You chuckled in sympathy. “Baby.”
“Hm.”
“Was there any point where you didn’t like any of it?”, you asked, specifically thinking of the part where you were rubbing yourself against his ass.
Steve’s eye peeked from your chest. He bit his lip to hide a smile, even though you couldn’t see it from your position, and shook his head.
“No? None at all?”
Steve knew what you were referring to. His face only got redder. “No. Actually…” He looked like he was about to say something, but quickly lost his courage and hid his face again. “N-Nevermind.”
“It’s okay to be embarrassed, sweetheart.”
He grumbled, embarrassed. “‘M not embarrassed.”
You could only chuckle at that. You kissed his forehead, and Steve laid his head in such a way that you could see him. “Whatever you say. I’m just saying there’s a first time for everything, and I recall you seemed to like a certain part a lot.”
Steve kicked his feet against the bed and he— he whined. Like it physically hurt him to hear you say this. He mumbled: “And what about it.”
You openly laughed at him. He was just so fun to tease. “Nothing. Just saying. There’s a whole world of possibilities you might have not thought about yet.”
God. Steve’s face was steaming hot by this point. He knew what you meant, but he couldn’t verbalize it, the sole idea setting off many different reactions in him, most of which were welcome, but made his heart pound fast at the same time, gave him the shivers.
But you knew he was probably drained, so you took his silence as a gentle dismissal for the day.
IV.
That last memory could be named ‘The Beginning Of It All’, because Steve feels like something fundamentally changed in him after you both were done that day, him staying up for a while after you started dozing off, lost in his thoughts.
These same thoughts invade his mind at every point of the day the next days that pass. At work, at home —alone, like always—, while going to run some errands. He can’t get that particular moment out of his mind, and it makes his face turn so red to just catch himself starting to think about it.
Because, first of all, he’s still wrapping his head around it. It being the fact that you were right: there is truly a world of possibilities he hasn’t completely thought about up to that moment. It being the fact that he’s starting to wonder how… some things might feel, and Steve finds himself almost steaming from bashfulness when he can finally find the courage to put it into words:
Fucked. He wants to know how it would feel like to be fucked.
He runs his hands through his hair, across his face, over his mouth, anything to try to somehow erase the red tint his face gets when he thinks about it.
It never works, of course. At work, Robin gives him that squinty look whenever she catches the most minuscule shift from his normal skin tone to anything other. Like a shark to blood.
“You know you can tell me anything, right, Stevie?”
“I know, Robbie. But maybe not this one?”
And his face goes the deepest shade imaginable after saying it and he tries to cover it, and Robin stews in her concern, but leaves it at that. She helps by offering to pull out the old reliable You’re Cool vs. You Suck board, to which Steve gently but exasperatedly refuses. Because he is cool, for once. He believes.
V.
Some few days after The Beginning Of It All, Steve caves in. He’s just so desperate to know more about this particular fixation of his that has his mind going haywire, but he knows it has to be different.
He’s had anal with a few of the girls he’s had sex with, so he knows the difference between vaginal and anal penetration. Obviously. He won’t be able to involuntarily self-lubricate or dilate before being penetrated. He knows that.
He just doesn’t know what it entails. Before sealing the deal.
So Steve, in his eagerness to learn more, spends one of his weekend days travelling all the way down to Columbus, where he knows no one will recognize him, an almost two-hour-long trip just to have a semblance of anonymity.
How freeing it is, to be able to walk into a —though secluded— queer-friendly sex shop, just to buy a magazine where he’ll be able to read ‘Everything You Need to Know About Anal!”, and come out of it, full-incognito. He just hopes times will change in the future and he won’t have to hide so much for something so simple.
So, two hours later, when he’s back home and with a fresh new magazine in his hands that he treasures like a family heirloom, he gets comfortable on his bed after closing the door to his bedroom —as if his ever-absent parents would barge in at any moment.
And he reads.
Admittedly, the more he reads, the more he can feel his face start to heat up, albeit for a different reason now. Because he now knows what he needs to do. Before.
He giggles. He reads on. Discovers new things apart from the specific act of anal penetration, since the magazine focuses on gay sexual health in general. Is taken aback by a few things, mentally slaps himself on the face for not paying enough attention back in high school. Particularly reprimands himself for thinking that condoms are only useful for stopping pregnancies, hasn’t really thought about the possibility that there are sexual diseases and a whole epidemic going on, something that could have gotten to him even during the times that he would have sex with girls.
Finds out something that interests him way too much, another one of the things he glossed over at school, but is sure a lot more of his classmates would have as well:
‘The prostate. Just a quick stroke on this bad boy will have you seeing stars. Ask your partner to try it on you.’
Curious. Where is it, again?
Oh, right. Just about two inches into.
“Into…”, Steve mutters, feeling the tips of his ears burn. He covers his face with the magazine and giggles, just like a girl with a crush. He lowers the mag until his eyes can peek from above it. His eyes stray anywhere and everywhere as he’s in deep thought.
Into. Steve hasn’t had any sort of stimulation on his behind other than some days ago, when you got him off while rubbing yourself against him, but he can clearly recall his own reaction to it. Such a strong response has to mean something. He just hopes it ends being all it was said to be.
His cock is starting to get hard from the thought. Just recalling that encounter has him feeling heady, growing inside his pants. Steve bits his lip. He lays the magazine on his chest and rubs the juncture between his thighs and groin with his hands while he thinks. The idea of fingering himself is growing more and more in his mind. He just has to give it a try.
A wild thought strays into his mind: the image of you thrusting two fingers in and out of him.
Steve releases a heavy breath. That vision has his cock throbbing.
He grabs the magazine and drops it beside him, on the mattress. Then, he quickly gets up and makes his way to the shower.
Previous preparations are done. Now comes the fun part. Hopefully.
Steve throws himself on the bed, still naked after the shower. His cock has remained on the beginnings of an erection all throughout, and it’s driving Steve crazy.
He settles until he’s half sitting up, half lying down on the center of the bed. He reaches to the side and opens his drawer, taking out the bottle of lube he has stored. Quickly, he opens it and pours a generous amount of the liquid on the fingers of his right hand, recalling what the magazine said about there never being enough lube for anal. He giggles a bit in the face of what he’s about to do.
With a heavy breath, Steve lowers his right hand down to his behind. He plants his feet on the bed to have a better approach. Then, he tentatively brushes his middle finger against the furl of his hole.
Steve bits his lip. It feels intense, and he hasn’t even started doing anything yet. He tries to relax, just in the way he’s read. Breathing in and out, he rubs the tip of his finger in circles, around his hole and occasionally venturing towards the center of it. Then, he steels himself, and starts pushing in.
He finds that the first finger enters without much trouble, perhaps a bit too easily, because he suddenly finds himself pushing it to the last knuckle on accident.
Steve gasps. It feels… equal parts good and weird. He covers his mouth with his free hand and giggles. He can’t believe he’s really doing this.
He waits for some seconds until he gets used to the feeling of his finger inside himself, and then starts pulling it out.
Okay. That feels downright weird.
Steve continues in spite of this, talking himself into enjoying this, trying to recall the feel of your hard cock rubbing between his cheeks. But it’s one thing to have another person do it to him while in a context where he was already hard, and another entirely different one to experiment with himself while he’s only now starting to feel pleasure.
He lowers his left hand to the discarded tube of lubricant on the bed. Steve does some gymnastics with his fingers, trying to open the lid with only one hand and to pour lube on that same hand, something that makes him spill some lube on the bed on accident. Oh, well. At least he gets some of it on his hand. When he’s done, he closes the lid with one wet hand and moves that same hand towards his cock. He encloses his member with his lubed hand, and that instantly brings him some pleasure.
But it’s not enough. It’s sort of difficult to stroke himself with his left hand, given that he’s right-handed.
Steve shakes his head. He thrusts his finger in and out of himself and tries to look for… anything that might give him some pleasure, but he simply can’t.
He thinks it’s because he only has one finger in him, so he puts his ring finger next to his middle one, squeezing together until he feels his rim give a little. It feels like a tight fit, but Steve pushes on, before he manages to fit the tip of his second finger inside him.
The stretch gives him pause. It certainly feels like a strain and it burns to a degree.
He doesn’t let that stop him and pushes forward, and he suddenly finds himself with two fingers inside him.
Steve breathes heavily. The stretch does something for him, but he doesn’t know if it’s something good or not. The only thing he knows is that his cock gives a little kick at the strain, but it’s too early to say if he really likes it, or if his body is just reacting naturally at this point.
So he waits and strokes himself slowly. His cock is only about half hard. Still, he holds on until he feels like he can move his right hand. He starts pulling his two fingers out and then back in at a leisured pace. There is undoubtedly something intense about the feeling. He keeps on thrusting slowly, in and out, still rubbing his cock at the same speed, and then starts a faster pace with his fingers.
Still. Nothing much.
He suddenly recalls what he read in the magazine. Right. The prostate. Two inches into.
Only, Steve doesn’t know what he’s supposed to feel for. He presses forward, upward, but nothing really stands out.
Steve purses his lips, almost pouting. He was expecting something mind-blowing after the other day. He prods and thrusts some more, but it’s fruitless.
He reaches a sad conclusion: What if he doesn’t enjoy anal sex at all? Has that time just been a one-off?
Sighing, he pulls his fingers out, resigning himself to finishing himself with a mediocre handjob.
VI.
Steve’s dejected mood translates into most of his actions the next days. You’re the one who notices the most, when you visit him at Family Video today.
He’s alone in the store, Robin probably in the back room for her break, no clients in sight. He has his back to you, for once seeming to do his job and arranging VHS’s in a neat pile. That tells you all you need to know.
He senses someone behind him, but doesn’t turn around as he says: “Welcome. How may I help you?”
“I’d like the longest and horniest movie you have, please.”
Steve jumps at your voice. He quickly turns around, and whatever light scowl that might have been present in his face is instantly swapped for a nervous smile.
But you can see some slight tension on his face, so you say: “Don’t worry. There’s no other people here.”
“Yeah,” Steve starts, his voice almost tight, “…I know.”
You think his attitude is a bit strange. On any other normal day he would’ve been vibrating with energy just by having you in his proximity, but today it seems like he’s just subdued. Unhappy for some reason.
So you lean on the counter and notice his intake of breath, as well as the subtle reddening of his cheeks, something that will never change regardless of his mood.
“What’s got my pretty boy so down?”
Steve valiantly tries to grin at you, but it sort of comes out as a grimace. He hums. “I can’t really talk about it at work.”
You hum, too. “Wanna tell me about it after work?”
Steve bites his lip, like it’s a hard decision for him. Now you’re convinced that there’s something truly wrong going on. Finally, he decides. “Yeah. Same time as always?”
“Yep.” You subtly brush your fingers against his hand on the counter, the most overt thing you’ll try in public, knowing how nervous he gets about it. Steve sighs happily when you do. Then, you lower your voice, almost to a murmur. “I’ll give you an extra good time, just to see you smile. And, well. Make other sorts of faces, too.”
Your angel turns red. He giggles against his own shoulder, giving you the first display of genuine happiness.
You chuckle as well, as you turn to leave.
Later in the evening, Steve shows up in your doorstep, and you can’t help the way you practically drag him inside your house. He laughs when you do.
As soon as you close the door, you’re on him. Steve’s gasp is muffled by your lips, but he composes himself to respond in kind. You feel him opening his mouth to push his tongue onto yours, which surprises you, since he’s not usually the one to start such contact. Not that you’re complaining. You brush your tongue against his and feel his moan vibrate throughout your body. As if on instinct, his body presses against yours, but as soon as you feel the beginnings of a hard-on —which, surprisingly, isn’t yours—, he withdraws at once.
Steve gives you a nervous half-smile. “Hi,” he says, so shyly it gives you whiplash.
You chuckle. “Hey, there.” You lean down to give him one last peck on his lips. When you separate, you take his hand to start leading him further into your house. “Wanna sit on the couch? Watch a movie? Or…”
He stays in silence for some seconds, starting to look all too awkward for some reason.
You rub the hand you have in yours with your thumb, the question obvious in your face.
“Um…” Steve looks down, abashed. “Wh-Whatever you want.”
You purse your lips. “Hm. No offense, sweetheart, but that was the least convincing thing you’ve ever said.”
Steve chuckles. “You’re not wrong.” He looks up at you from under his lashes. That’s enough to get you going. “Well… we could…”
“Yeah?”
His face does a funny thing and he releases a titter. “You’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you?”
You want to tease him more, truly, but you feel as though whatever had him so crestfallen today might have drained him for the day, so you settle with: “Not this time, sweet thing. Let’s just go to my room so we can talk.”
“Yeah…” Steve’s face takes on a deep shade of red.
“Really,” you try to sound reassuring as you start walking to your bedroom with him in tow. “Whatever you want. We can talk… or we can talk.”
He laughs openly. “Right.”
You arrive at the door of your room. Steve looks at you, so bashful it’s almost painful to watch him.
You both cross the threshold. “Want me to close the door?”, you ask, knowing about his usual want of privacy, even though you lived alone.
He nods, meekly. So you close the door and stand in front of him, taking his hands in yours, expectant of whatever he’s going to say, because you know that he has it on the tip of his tongue. “Wanna lie down? Or sit down for a bit?”
Steve understands. He bites his lip. “Um…” He stays in silence for a while after that, so you take it as a refusal. You’re truly worried at this point.
You give him some encouragement. “Is anything wrong, sweetheart? Or was it that way at work?”
“Uh…” Steve looks skittish. You’ve never seen him quite like this. “I guess you could say so. But it’s…” He heaves out a breath and looks down. “God. It’s so embarrassing.”
“Anything you wanna tell me, baby, know that I’ll never judge you for it.” You rub circles on the insides of his wrists.
“Okay…”
God. He’s so quiet it’s almost creeping you out. You want him to say what’s on his mind so bad, but you don’t want to rush him, so you just stand there, awaiting his next words.
“So, um…” Steve purses his lips, feeling the tips of his ears burning. He still doesn’t look up. “You know the other day, when we, um…”
Your heart sinks. You’re so sure he’s going to say something along the lines of ‘I hated this and that and I didn’t want to say it at the time’. You just stand there, trying to not let the panic show on your face. “Yeah?”
He doesn’t notice, since his eyes are glued to the floor. “Wh-When we were…” He exhales, and it comes out a bit whiny. “It’s so hard to say this.”
You decide to put him out of his misery. “Something you didn’t like?”
At that, Steve looks up at you quickly in confusion. “Um. No? Actually…” He bites his lip, unable to even give you a nervous smile. “I, um… might have liked it too much.”
You try to not let the relief you feel be too obvious. “Oh.”
“Y-Yeah. So, I, um… I might have… done more research? And…” He whines from the embarrassment.
“Yeah?”, you encourage him, because this ‘research’ he’s talking about feels just too good to be true. “That’s amazing. What did you find?”
“Well…” Steve looks you in the eye for one second before he decides it’s too much for him, whines again, and hides his face in your chest.
You chuckle in compassion. You kiss the top of his head. “Go on?”
Steve takes a deep breath. He tilts his head so you can see some of his face. “Well, I kind of… tried some stuff.”
“Some stuff?”, you press on, almost desperate to know more. “That’s great, babe. What’s wrong with it?”
At the reminder that there is something wrong, Steve seems to deflate. “I’m getting there.”
“Okay. Sorry.”
He chuckles softly. Next, he encircles your torso with his arms, noticing how you’ve done the same to him. “I kind of… I don’t know… liked it but also didn’t, so it was kind of disappointing. And I got really bitchy afterwards because I thought I had it down.” Steve looks up at you with the saddest, most adorable eyes from his position on your chest as he kept speaking freely. “And I’m also kind of mad at myself because I think I did it right, but it wasn’t what I expected. And…” He seems to get shy again. “And I wanted to… do more… with you… but I don’t know if I’m doing it wrong, or if it’s something I really don’t like.”
You card your fingers through his hair, knowing how hard it is for him to talk about something like this. You lift his head, with your right hand under his chin, and let his pretty face look at you. “You’re so brave for telling me this, honey.” You give him a slow, sweet kiss on the lips that seems to soothe his nerves. Now, you let him know just how supportive you are. “Just to make sure, is this something you want to like? Or is it something you feel like you have to like to make me happy?” You raise your eyebrow at him, jokingly scolding him, and he knows what you’re about to say, because he looks equally exasperated and amused. “What did we say about expectations and roles?”
“I know,” he says, a small genuine smile on his face. He bites his lip. “I want to like it. For myself.”
“Good.”
Steve unconsciously catches his breath at that and carries on. “I’m just not sure if I’m doing it right.”
“Okay,” you conclude. “So let’s get this straight: you’re talking about…” Your hands lower down his back, until your fingertips are touching the rim of his pants. “Playing with this?” They stray lower, until you can feel up his cheeks on your hands, over the denim. “As in, anal?”
Steve’s face gets so red once the word is out. He nods.
“Okay. Did you use a toy? Or fingers? Something else?”
He hides his face in your chest again. “F-Fingers.”
“Cool. What did it feel like?”
Steve’s eyes stray downwards, and he chews on his lower lip, trying to find the words. “It was… sort of intense? It was kind of good but also weird. And I was expecting it to feel a lot better since, you know…” Steve looks like he’s about to break into nervous laughter. “But… I don’t know what I was expecting, honestly.”
You purse your lips in thought. “Did you reach your prostate?”
Steve shakes his head. “No. I know about it since I read— I mean… during my research…” His lips tremble in a shy smile.
You chuckle. He was just so adorable. “What would this research be, if I may know?”
“Well. Kind of… a magazine?”
“Ooh. And did it tell you where it was?”
“It did. But I just couldn’t find it for some reason.”
You hum while carding your fingers through his hair. You’re almost sure this entire talk might be doing something to Steve, but you don’t want to push just yet. “That might be a very good reason why you didn’t like it that much. The prostate is extremely important for this.”
“Yeah?”
“Yep. If you’ve never felt naturally inclined to do any sort of anal play, it’s most probable that you might not feel pleasure just from anal itself. You’d need something more.”
Steve puts the tiniest bit of space between you two to look at you better. In doing so, you notice his state of arousal, which proves that he is a bit pent up over this.
When he realizes this, he shifts in place, subtly trying to cover himself, looking at you sheepishly.
You chuckle, grabbing his chin and laying a hot kiss on his lips. “Baby. ‘This talk doing something for you?”
Steve bites his lip and shyly nods.
Your hands tentatively slide under his shirt, resting on the sides of his hips within it. “Tell you what. Someday… if you want, that is… I could help you with this. We could play a little to see if we find a fix.”
At this, Steve sucks his lips into his teeth, like he’s trying not to laugh, and his face takes on a deep shade of pink. “Um… well…”
“Yeah?” You’re eager now, knowing he’s onto something.
“You could… right now, if you want?”
“Oh, babe.” Your hands slide underneath his polo shirt until they reach the middle part of his back. “You mean…?”
“I… kind of… today, I… before I came here…” Steve fidgets with the rim on the back of your shirt. “Again. W-With fingers— Like— I tried to see if…”
You give him a steamy kiss to put him out of his misery. He whines lowly within it, and moans when you open his mouth to rub your tongue against his. You separate too soon for his liking. “Yeah? Played with yourself?”
Steve is so abashed he can only nod.
“That’s so hot. I bet you’re so pent up right now.” Your hands return to the rim of his polo, and start pulling it up to his midriff, looking at him in question, to which he eagerly nods. You take off his shirt and leave it on the bed.
He’s on you the moment you return to him. His sudden kiss leaves you breathless, but it only makes you chuckle. His jittery hands pull at the rim of your shirt and you comply, quickly taking it off.
After some moments of haste, you’re both completely bare to each other, returning to that prolonged kiss you can’t get enough of. Your hands stray lower and lower down his back.
You withdraw long enough to breathe out: “Cool if I do this?”, before lowering your hands to the top of his cheeks.
Steve gasps. He nods, almost vibrating against you.
You chuckle, and take each of his glutes in a firm handful each.
He whines as you play with him, looking at you from under his lashes. You lean forward, and lay heavy kisses down his neck.
“Oh, fuck.” A little bite has his legs twitching on the floor. “Fuck!” A long lick from the hollow of his clavicles to the side of his jaw while you massage each handful has him moaning intelligibly.
Two fingers of your right hand suddenly rubbing against his hole have him jumping almost a foot in the air. “Okay?”
Steve’s moans are airy. “That’s…” He breathes in and out as you rub up and down the sensitive skin. “G-Good.”
You finish this with a steamy kiss on his lips, before laying your hands on his hips. “Let’s go to the bed?”
“Yeah.”
After you’re done leading him to the side of the bed that has the night table next to it, you both sit down and continue kissing and caressing each other for some seconds.
You know Steve’s impatient. You have to make this good for him, have to prove to him that he could totally like this, so, after you withdraw from his lips, without taking your eyes off him, you reach out and open the drawer, taking out a tube of lube and a condom.
Steve’s eyes land on the square packet, almost nervously.
“Don’t worry, babe. It’s not what you’re thinking.”
He bites his lip. “Um… what is it, then?”, he asks, apprehensively.
“Let me tell you.” You leave the objects in the space between you and Steve on the mattress. With your right hand, you shift Steve’s legs to part them. He lets you, albeit hesitantly, unsure of what you’re planning. You grab the condom and show it to him. “Sometimes, people who have any sort of anal play with others might use condoms for whatever they’re gonna be inserting into the other, even if it’s not a dick.”
“Really?”, he sighs out, almost relieved.
“Yeah. They might use it for toys or even fingers. So I’m asking you now: do you want me to wear this when I’m fingering you?”
Steve’s face burns at your bluntness, but he takes the time to think it over. “Hm. Is it necessary?”
“Not as much as it is for anal sex per se. Depends on how worried you are about contracting STI’s, which is pretty much a null possibility. Our results looked pretty good, if you ask me.”
Indeed. The doctors cleared you both something like a week ago.
“It’s whatever you want, babe. I’m okay with either.”
“Okay,” he agrees. “Maybe you could not wear it? I kind of… need to feel it properly if I’m gonna be doing it later on my own.” Steve turns giggly as his face darkens.
You chuckle as well. “Now, that’s a pretty picture.” You start leaning forward into Steve, hearing his giddy intake of breath when he feels you rearranging him on the bed, until he’s half lying down in the center of it. You muse for a second. “In fact… I’d be totally okay if you tried that right now.” Steve’s mouth quirks in a demure smile. “You know, to see what you’re doing wrong.”
He rolls his eyes. “Of course. Just for that.” He bites his lip, pink on the face, because he will do it, just because your encouragement makes him all warm inside. He grabs your lube, pouring some on the fingers of his right hand, and then leaves it aside. “Fair warning, though. It might be kind of unsexy. I’m gonna be flagging.”
“That’s normal. It’s not easy to remain hard just from anal.”
He smiles. “Yeah, well…”, he trails off.
And he starts. He lowers both hands to the area near his groin, his left one going for his cock, stroking himself in order to relax, before rubbing the lubed fingers of his right hand on his hole. He exhales.
You wonder at the sight. Steve lightly squirms from your pointed gaze, but he continues on nonetheless. His middle finger enters him without much trouble, due to having played with himself previously. He doesn’t make much noise, apart from the occasional exhalation.
“How’s that feel?”, you ask him.
“Underwhelming.” Steve’s expression resembles a grimace, but he valiantly tries to give you a little grin. He quickly makes way for a second finger, which takes a bit longer to enter, but when he does, you can see the subtle shift in his features. He looks like it’s a bit of a strain for him. “It feels only sort of better right now.”
“Because of the stretch?”
“Yeah.”
You hum. The visual is breathtaking. If only Steve could see himself right now, he’d know that you don’t need much more than this to go. Still, you feel kind of bad for thinking this when he’s clearly not enjoying it thoroughly. “Try to search for your prostate. It should feel like a spongy patch.”
“I’m trying, now.” Steve shifts his hand, probably moving his fingers inside him.
After some seconds, you see his shoulders slump.
“I can’t.” He sounds petulant about it.
You click your tongue. “Poor baby. Maybe I could do it for you?” And his face takes on the red hue it’d lost during his act. He bites his lip. “If you want, of course.”
Steve licks his lips. That certainly sounds nice. He nods, biting his lip as he takes his fingers out, wincing at the empty feel. Once they’re out, he looks around, hand hovering in the air for some seconds, before he lays that hand on his thigh, not quite knowing what to do.
You pull some tissues from the box atop the night table and give them to him, to which he looks grateful and cleans his hand.
“Just leave it there,” you tell him, and he drops the tissue next to him on the bed.
Now, you lean forward. Just as you were expecting, he gives you that demure expression before you take his lips in a slow kiss, opening his mouth just in time for him to lay his tongue on yours. You kiss him for some moments, rubbing your hands up and down his torso, playing with the hair on his chest and his nipples until you’ve got him panting against your mouth.
Before you withdraw completely, you bite his lower lip, to which he gasps. “Now I’ve got you all hot and bothered.” Steve smiles, head tilted down to his chest. “Were you all hot and bothered when you tried to finger yourself, too?”
“Sort of. Not as much as right now.” Steve parts his legs wider, something that has you ready to go.
“I’m flattered.” Still leaning into his space, sharing the same air, your right hand sneakily goes down his belly until you can grasp his hard cock. He breathes out, minutely thrusting up and down into your fist. Your fondling doesn’t last for too long. Your right hand releases his cock and slides over his testes, lower and lower, until you’ve got four main fingers resting on the juncture of his thigh and hip and your thumb against his perineum. “I want you to feel something.”
Steve gives you a heady look, heart almost beating out of his chest at the soft contact. “What?”, he whispers.
Your thumb presses against his perineum.
Steve’s body seizes. He gives you the prettiest, loudest moan, and his body curls into your hand for a moment before dropping on the bed, at the same time that you release the pressure.
“Fuck… What the fuck is that?” He runs a hand through his hair, looking at you in wonder.
“That is your prostate.” You smile at him.
“Oh my God.” Steve laughs softly.
“Yeah. Now imagine that, but…” You muse for a second. “Ten times more intense.”
Steve gives you an almost panicked look, but you know it’s in the best way, because he finds himself muttering: “Holy fuck…”
“Now you know why so many gay men like to bottom.” Your thumb rubs the skin of his perineum without pressing forward, something that makes Steve antsy with pleasure. Then, your hand slides downward, until your thumb can rub against the tight furl of his hole.
Steve bites his lip to hold back his desperate moan.
“I’m gonna make you feel so good, you’ll see. I bet I could make you come just from your prostate.”
“Fuck,” Steve breathes out. “Is that even possible?”
“Yeah. After this, you’ll be able to do it to yourself. Trust me. Once you start, you can never stop. It just feels so good.” Your thumb presses in without much intent; you only do it to hear Steve’s frantic breathing increasing. “With time, your body might learn how to get pleasure just from penetration alone.”
“Ah, fuck. I can— I can totally see it.”
“Yeah.” You lay a heavy kiss on his lips. “I could get you all needy when you do.” Your hand now rests in front of his ass, middle and ring finger rubbing up and down his hole. His legs twitch. “Make you want a real cock in place of fingers. If you want,” you clarify when you spot Steve’s big eyes glancing at you with something that looks like nervousness, which, in reality, is pure unadulterated want.
He nods fervently. He subtly pushes his hips towards you, letting you know how ready he is for you to start.
So you do. You quickly grab the tube and pour lubricant on the fingers of your right hand. As soon as you press the tips of two fingers against his hole, his hips twitch, and he makes the smallest sound that has your cock throbbing.
“Good. Let’s just start with one since my fingers are thicker.”
God. Steve seems to only now recall this fact. It only serves to turn him even more flustered. He nods.
The tip of your middle finger starts pressing forward. To be fair, it’s not too difficult to breach him, since he played with himself using two fingers before he arrived, but doing it himself is so different from feeling someone else do it for him.
When the tip of your finger enters him, his lungs seem to run out of air. He clenches harshly around you.
“I’m gonna need you to relax, baby.”
Steve pants. “I’m trying. It’s just… so intense.”
You understand him, of course. Your left hand goes to his cock and you start stroking him at a leisured pace.
He gives you the smallest moan. Once you feel like he won’t clamp down on you, you continue entering him with your finger, until it’s down to the last knuckle.
Steve keeps on breathing heavy, but there’s a small smile on his face. “Oh my God. That’s so…”
“How is it?”
“Better than on my own.”
You nod. “I wanna put two in before I start feeling for your prostate. I promise it’s gonna feel real good like that.”
“Yeah.” Steve nods with a blush high on his face.
You pull your middle finger out until only the tip is in. Your ring finger rubs softly against his rim, next to your middle one, before you start pushing both fingers forward.
Steve clenches down, gritting his teeth from the small strain.
“Hm. Can’t have you clamping down on me like this, sweetheart. How about you try to push out a bit?”
“‘Push out’? Oh my God,” Steve laughs, embarrassed. Covers his mouth but does as he’s told.
Your two fingers push in to the last knuckle way too easily after this, so much so that Steve’s left panting, his arms buckling and ending up having to lean on his right elbow.
“Oh my God,” Steve repeats. His cock is only half-hard by now; in spite of this, he feels it kicking at the stretch.
You still your two fingers inside him, waiting for him to get used. When you hear Steve’s heavy breathing calm down, you decide to start thrusting them in and out.
He clenches down and makes small whines.
“Too much?”, you ask softly, as you stop your motions.
Steve gives you a half-smile, half-grimace. “Hm… I don’t know, honestly.”
You think you see some of his previous frustration seep into his expression, so you decide to not tease him anymore.
Your fingertips press against the upper part of his walls. Steve bites his lower lip, knowing what you’re trying to do.
It takes some long seconds of exploration, but when it happens, it’s a sight to behold.
Steve shouts. His face is the best part: pinched tight in a perfect mix between shock and pleasure. His entire body twitches against your hand. His legs kick for a second, and his cock hardens in front of you, before he slumps against the bed.
“Holy fuck,” is all he can pant out, left hand against his beating heart.
“There it is.” You smirk at Steve, and he only has a brief second to catch his breath and look at you in euphoric torment before you’re suddenly thrusting right against that spot, focusing on bringing the most prolonged and intense reactions out of him.
And you certainly fulfill this task to the maximum, if the long, whiny moans coming out of your boyfriend are indicative enough. Steve grabs at his own knees to try to keep himself as open as possible, because the forceful twitches of his body have him closing them without meaning to, too uncoordinated to do anything other than suffer from pleasure. When he can’t even coordinate his hands anymore just for that, he has no option but to thrash on the bed.
This is the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. Steve’s expressions are some of the prettiest, most arousing you’ve had the honor of witnessing. The way his eyebrows pinch and his eyes shut tight, mouth open to let out airy moans, is something that won’t leave your mind alone for the foreseeable future.
Steve opens those beautiful eyes just in time to beg you with them to not stop, and you don’t need any verbal ratification to understand.
Your fingers move in circles against the bundle of nerves, and his legs shake so bad you’re afraid he might start cramping at any given moment. Steve is laid out on the bed, almost unable to comprehend the amount of pleasure you’re giving him, unable to even open his eyes to witness this.
“Oh my God,” is all he can moan. It’s so endearing, the way he keeps his left hand over his chest, like he’s trying to will his heart into not beating so fast.
“Ever thought it could feel like this?”
“N-No. Not at all— fuck!” His left hand leaves his chest and goes up to his mouth, covering it, as if he doesn’t know what to do with it. “I-It feels… Fuck, it feels kinda weird too, like I’m gonna…” Steve takes his hard cock in his right hand, gritting his teeth when he feels like there’s going to be a rush of something other than cum in any second.
You chuckle. “That’s normal.” You softly take his right hand in your free one, leaving it aside without much resistance. “Look at that. You’re all hard just from this. That’s so good.” Steve breathes out a series of short moans behind his hand after you say this, looking at you with a bit of newfound shyness, even now that he’s laid out, taking your fingers in him.
“Y-You think it’s good?” He squirms when you give slow, deep thrusts against his prostate.
“Oh, baby. It is. It’s so good. You’re doing so good for me.”
Sweet boy. Does he really think covering his face with one hand will hide him from you noticing his deep blush?
You give him the quietest chuckle. “Look at this for one second, babe?”
Steve lowers his hand until only his mouth is being concealed, looking at you while debating himself on doing it or not, but he ends up bringing it down to hold himself up on quivering arms while you give him short, less intense thrusts with your fingers.
He leans up until he’s half sitting up, looking at your wrist.
“Would you look at that,” you drawl out, pointing at your moving hand with a nod.
Steve looks. His cock releases a steady stream of pre-cum at the sight.
Because right now, he’s looking at you doing to him the same thing he used to do to so many girls: you’re finger-fucking him with the two fingers in the middle, index and pinky ones pressed flat against the sides of them.
Just like a girl.
Steve feels faint at the sight. “I’m gonna cum.”
“Oh, yeah?” You resume a fast, intense pace, your fingers making squelching noises when your palm meets his skin.
Steve his moaning through his teeth, unable to hold himself up anymore and leaning back on his trembling arms, on his elbows. His legs twitch restlessly, and he’s helpless to stop himself.
He grits his teeth not only at the pleasure, but at the intense feeling growing on him with each passing second. His right hand rests on his heavy cock. “I— I c-can’t— I really feel like I’m gonna…”
You know what he’s referring to. “It’s okay. Just let it happen. I promise it’s nothing bad.”
Steve trembles, writhes, sways from one side to the other one as he tries to fight the feeling. “I— can’t.”
The truth is, Steve can. He’s just too scared about the novelty of this one orgasm, because he knows it’s not going to be gentle on him, and it’s something so new it frightens him. The thought of its magnitude makes his heart beat even faster and has him terrified at the same time.
“Okay, baby.” Your left hand goes on his cock, and you start rubbing him up and down quickly.
“Ah, fuck— I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?” You chuckle. “You did so good, baby.”
Steve’s body starts curling in itself. “Ah—! Did I?”
“Yeah, you did.”
Before Steve’s overwhelmed eyes, you slide down the bed until your face is at the same level as his cock.
“You were so good for me. You deserve a reward.”
And you just manage to give him a little suck while you stroke him and finger him, right on his glans, before his eyes roll back and he’s cumming harder than he’s ever had.
The noises he makes are so— animalistic. His face crumples in the most euphoric agony, and his body curls against your head, like he can’t take such amount of pleasure, like he’s trying to push you off.
But he isn’t.
He comes, and comes, and comes into your mouth, his orgasm seeming to never end, and his own body not giving him a second of respite. You just swallow as much cum as he’ll give you, because you just can’t stop giving him pleasure, either, still bobbing your head up and down in short strokes to prolong this. Your fingers haven’t stopped, either. You’re pretty sure you might be overdoing it by this point, but the way he can’t stop moaning and whimpering as you keep on rubbing circles against his gland tells you he’s enjoying this too much.
At last, his body stops twitching so much. He drops on the bed. You take this as your cue to lift off him, licking the last traces of his cum off your lips before you give his slumped face a smile, removing your fingers from inside him.
God. Steve’s eyes are so glazed over behind barely-opened eyelids that you wouldn’t be surprised if he can’t focus his sight for minutes after this. His chest heaves quickly on the mattress, left hand loosely on the left side of it, no doubt trying to calm down his thumping heart.
You can’t help yourself. You slide up all the way until you’re kneeling before him, and your right hand lowers to your painfully-hard cock.
He looks like he just got fucked.
Steve comes to only seconds after you’ve started a quick pace with your hand.
You chuckle at his barely-there expression. “That was a strong one, wasn’t it?”, you grunt out, already feeling close.
Steve’s breathing doesn’t get any slower than as it is right now. He reaches forward with a trembling right hand, hovering under your cock.
“Just rest, babe. You can barely move.”
“No, I… I need to. Didn’t even touch you yet.” He looks sheepish. “Sorry. I get so stupid when I’m horny, I forget to do anything else.”
You give him a wolfish grin. “That’s not a problem at all.” You feel a pull at your gut. “In fact, I’d say it’s hot as fuck. But if you really want to…” You take his lax right hand in yours and manipulate it until it’s circling your cock.
You then start fucking his fist.
Steve’s mouth opens in a silent gasp as he feels the friction of your cock thrusting in and out of the tunnel of his fingers. His spent cock makes a brave attempt of filling again.
Only a few more thrusts are enough to have you grunting, increasing in volume as the only warning you can give him before you’re coming long lines on his torso.
Steve gasps at this. The heat that hits his chest, along with the visual of your cock virtually fucking him, is enough to have him almost dipping into a gentler state of mind, something that makes him panic for the briefest second before he’s pulled out of that place when he hears you grunt out for the last time.
You didn’t notice his predicament, so when you come to and take note of Steve’s spooked eyes, you take his drenched hand in yours. “Babe, you okay?”, you ask him, concerned.
Steve nods, reassuring. “Yeah. That was just… kind of intense.” He chuckles. A blush sits high on his cheeks as he looks at you, at the same time that he brings his soaked hand close to his lips. “Now it’s my turn,” he says, albeit a bit uncertainly, referring to when you swallowed him.
“You don’t have to.” But fuck if the visual doesn’t make your spent cock throb again.
He doesn’t answer. Only looks at you with the most smoldering expression on his face while he opens his mouth, brings his cum-stained fingers into it, sucks, swallows, and…
Tries to hide a grossed-looking grimace. “Um.”
You openly laugh at him, dropping next to him on the bed while he still has you in stitches.
Steve hits you on the chest with that same hand while he pouts. “Don’t— fucking laugh, man. I was trying to have a moment.” But he’s trying to hold back a laugh as well. “How the hell did you swallow… that so easily?”
You try to calm down enough to answer. “You just get used to the taste.”
His mouth purses, and his grimace just makes you start laughing again. “Is that what I taste like, too? Jesus. I mean—! No offense.”
Steve can only hide his own smile with a pout when that just makes you laugh harder.
VII.
Steve’s newfound good mood is contagious. Robin is almost afraid at this point. She thinks his mood swings are so over the place as of lately that he needs some sort of emotional support. Continuously, she asks him if he’s really feeling fine, to which he answers with nonchalance.
He obviously can’t tell her exactly what’s got him so happy.
It’s not just a single thing. It’s not just the fact that you helped him overcome his frustration after being so pent up.
It’s also the fact that, yes, he recently found out that he could do it himself…
And yes. He can get aroused just from penetration alone.
In fact, Steve’s almost embarrassed by how much his libido has gone up these past few days, namely because he now actually craves penetration at times.
He bites his lip on his way home from work, pupils dilated as he fights to keep his hard-on down within the privacy of his car, because he wants it right now. He wants to use his fingers on himself, wants to keep adding to feel the stretch.
Wants to get ready for you.
So he doesn’t bother to get comfortable before he climbs out his car in a haste, almost forgetting to close his entrance door with key before going up the stairs, heading straight for the shower.
Steve is splayed on the bed and has two fingers inside himself, this time from his left hand, so that he can stroke himself easily with his right one. He’s done this exact thing every single day this week, attempting to imitate your movements from a week ago, hoping to replicate that glorious moment.
It’s never the same as if you were the one doing it to him, but it still makes him come harder than all the previous years before this.
Currently, he’s scissoring himself open, gasping out at the small stretch. He has his eyes to the ceiling, picturing you instead of him. Your two thick fingers felt so amazing in him, stretching him out so much more than he could with his own.
Steve recalls the feel of your cock in his hand, so big he almost can’t close his fingers around it completely.
Oh, fuck. He always forgets how big you are. The size of it scares him a little, but when he’s so horny like this he feels like he could take you, at all costs.
Still. He needs to prepare for it if he’s really going to ask you for it later.
So he pulls his two fingers out, until only the tip of them are in, and tightly presses his index against them, gently thrusting in to get all three of them inside him at the same time. It’s a snug fit, and he finds it’s more difficult to add something as scant as a single finger inside, but he presses on.
It burns, but Steve manages to push three fingers in to the last knuckle.
And then, he wants more. Because the stretch, which has become more intense now, sets off different reactions in him that he could have never imagined.
And so he doesn’t wait long enough to get used to the current stretch, and he tries to push in the last finger, his pinky one into himself. But he finds that it’s sort of too much, the strain he puts on himself causing mixed, overwhelming sensations, but even that doesn’t stop him.
With a great amount of mental effort, he slips the last finger into himself, and—!
And it’s such a big stretch that it has him hissing behind gritted teeth, and it still doesn’t stop him as he starts thrusting in and out of himself, not waiting to get used to the pressure as he strokes his cock faster and faster—
Steve cums without even reaching his prostate. He feels his hole clench repeatedly, tight around his own fingers, at the same time he releases onto his chest, heaving in gasps from an open smiling mouth because it feels so good.
When he’s done, he slumps against the bed, fingers pulling out but pushing in one last time as he feels an overwhelming current of painful pleasure from it, and isn’t that an idea for another time?
At last, he pulls out completely, a resolute thought resounding in his mind:
Steve needs you to fuck him.
He doesn’t even attempt to wait in order to not look so pent up. He calls you only one hour later.
He breathes out: “Hi,” before you can even exchange greetings and ask who it is.
“Hey, baby,” you chuckle. “You sound eager.”
“Well… maybe.”
You hum in agreement, now eager as well, sensing he’s going to say something you’re going to like a lot. “Why would that be?”
“Um… well, you see…” The way he’s speaking tells you he’s probably blushing; you just know him like that. There’s a brief silence after this, before he continues. “Can I… If you’re free, I mean…”
“Yes?”, you say teasingly.
“I was… I was wondering if I could…”
“Yeees?”
You hear something that sounds like a mix between a whine and a groan. “You’re going to make me say it.”
“Yep.” Your voice now takes on a lower, more smoldering quality. “If you want something, you have to ask for it, baby.”
There’s an intake of breath on the other side of the line. Then, the smallest of whimpers. “Okay,” he croaks out. “Do you think I could come over?”
“Sure. Movie, snacks, and cuddles it is.”
He’s so fun to tease. You obviously know what he wants, but it’s just so fulfilling to hear the petulant groan he gives you. “Not what I meant…”, is his almost inaudible response.
“Sorry. I didn’t quite catch that. Can you repeat it for me?” Your face hurts from the way you’re smiling so widely.
On the line, he groans, and you hear a series of… taps?
Oh, he’s probably kicking his feet against the floor, just in the way he does when he’s so abashed it physically hurts him.
You openly laugh at him. “Alright. No more teasing. Come over already.”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”
“Just don’t stretch yourself too much. I wanna have my fun, too.”
“Holy fuck—” is the last thing you hear before he hangs up on you.
You’re left laughing loudly.
At last, Steve steps foot on the threshold of your house, finally about to get what he’s been aching for.
He raises his hand to knock, but he’s taken aback when the door opens in his face before he can do so.
It seems he’s not the only eager one.
“Hey, there.”
“Hi,” he answers, bashfully. It hits him only now, that he’s about to do this. He tries to cover it with a smug expression. “Were you waiting for me behind the door?” He raises his eyebrow.
“Nooo. Why would you think that?” You put your right hand on the low of his back to guide him in before he can answer. “Just come inside already.”
Steve snorts, and his face takes on a deep shade of red as he mumbles: “Pretty sure that’s my line— I mean.”
You give him a wolfish smile. You close the door, and immediately you push him against it, leaning into his space without kissing him, only giving him a pointed look that he squirms under. “You know, you’re being a lot more overt than usual, did you know?” You lean down, your lips almost brushing his. “Why’s that? Hm? Something on your mind?”
Steve makes that shy, quivering smile and tops it off with the straying eyes. It might be seen as part of this little game, but you know Steve well enough to know that he’s feeling truly bashful right now. “You know what it is,” he whines out.
“Hm, but I don’t. I think you should spell it out for me.” Your right hand goes under his chin. You tilt his head to be facing yours in a better way, using your thumb to rub against his skin. By this point, you’re positive that you can try out something related to his glaring praise kink. “Eyes on me, sweet thing.”
He moans airily. Steve looks at you, seeming to want to obey you at all costs, even if that makes his face burn and his heart feel like it’s going to beat out of his chest.
“Tell me, baby.” You speak with your mouth directly onto his, in a sensual caress of sorts.
Steve heaves out. “I— want you to fuck me.”
As soon as the words are out of his mouth, you push your lips onto his in a steamy kiss that has him closing his eyes from the intensity. His arms wrap around your neck, hands going down your back to grab at whatever part of your shirt he can. Your hands, conversely, hold onto the sides of his hips, quickly sliding under his polo to stroke up his ribs.
He moans within the kiss, which finishes too soon for his liking.
“That’s so good, baby. You’re such a good boy for me.”
Steve almost yells from how loud he moans. Rushes to lean his face on the side of your neck, almost mortified by his own reaction. The tip of his right shoe kicks softly against the floor.
You chuckle next to his ear. “You like me calling you ‘good’?”
He doesn’t remove his face from your shoulder; he only nods against it, blushing so hard you can see it spread down his nape.
You chuckle against his ear. “That’s good to hear. Now, be good and follow me to my room.”
Steve’s eye peeks from against your shoulder. He’s feeling so sheepish he almost can’t speak. “Okay,” he croaks out lowly.
You lean back some until he can no longer hide into your neck, enough that you can see the deep shade of pink his face has taken. Your right arm goes around his waist now; you use this leverage to lead him towards your bedroom. “Feeling fine?”, you have to ask while you walk, because you know that this is a very big step, and that he probably needs the highest level of reassurance.
“Yeah,” he mumbles. “I just… You’re kinda making me feel the way I probably made girls feel.” He laughs nervously.
You chuckle as well. Once you’re behind the threshold of your bedroom door, you close it, noticing his low intake of breath at the action. “What’s that mean?”
“Just…” Steve’s hands find yours and he plays with them to anchor himself. He shakes his head shyly, his foot twisting, like he doesn’t want to answer.
“Small?”, you venture, and his little nod and bite of the lip confirm it. That makes you smile. “That’s fine.” You rub his hands with your thumbs. Then, you pull him closer to the bed. “I’m here to make you feel nice and safe.”
Steve looks up at you with a small shaky smile. He closes the distance, giving you a soft kiss on the lips. “Thanks.”
He blushes when you chuckle at him. “Don’t thank me over that. It’s just my duty.” And he’s left breathless when you slide your hands under his polo shirt, high enough to start lifting it up to his middle. “Now… how about I take off your clothes so I can make you feel real good? Hm?”
At his shy nod, you slide his shirt up and off him, immediately going for his lips after it, gliding your rough hands over his torso, playing with the hair on his chest. Steve moans inside the kiss when he feels you thumbing at his nipples. When you withdraw, your mouth finds its way to the right side of his neck, leaving hot trails with lips and teeth. He moans softly, grabbing at the rim of your shirt and pulling it up with eagerness. You chuckle at him. You allow him to pull it off you, and the moment it’s on the floor, the pounces on you just like you’ve done to him. Steve attacks your mouth with an impatience you haven’t seen before, but that’s fine. That just makes you smile within the kiss, because you’re so glad Steve’s found something he likes that you can both passionately agree on.
Steve pulls back from the kiss, flushed, but raising an eyebrow at your obvious smile. You decide to distract him, feeling for his button and zipper, and you fulfill this mission, since you can see and hear his enthusiastic response to this. Quickly, you undo the front of his pants, and before you pull them down, you take Steve by the shoulders and gently push him down the bed, until he’s sitting down by the end of it. His hands support his weight behind him, and for this brief second, he looks up and up at you, because you standing before him forces him to lift his head to look at you, and he feels so hazy he has to subtly cross his legs at this, mindful of his now fully-hard cock tenting the front of his jeans.
But you don’t let him. Your hands push his knees outwards at the same time you lower yourself to kneel before him, and this vision has him gasping out and leaking just from that.
You wink at him from your position on the floor. Swiftly undoing his shoes and taking them off, your hands reach forward for the rim of his pants, and as he looks at you in a daze, your fingers hook right under the edge of his underwear, and you start pulling his lower garments down at once, giving him a gruff little laugh when his very hard cock is released from its confines with a small rebound.
When it’s off him and he’s bare before you, you lift yourself up using his thighs as leverage and start leaning towards him, in a low prowl, until you’re hovering over him with your hands on the sides of his head.
Steve’s nervous hands jitter down your torso, all the way to the rim of your own pants, and he makes quick work of the button and zipper. He pointedly looks at his hands, so as to not lose his nerve at your searing gaze. When he’s done, he ventures a quick glance at your eyes, but quickly looks down again as he starts slipping your lower garments off you.
You haven’t stopped looking at him throughout this. Your eyes just can’t leave his rosy face and nervous bites of his lips as you shift above him to help him undress you.
Once you’re both nude, it seems to hit him that you’re both going to do this. Steve’s demeanor changes into one of agitation. He finally looks at you, a nervous, quivery smile on his mouth, though you understand that he’s looking for reassurance now, which you’ll easily give to him.
You lower your head to his and kiss his worries away. “Let’s start slowly, yeah?”, you say, almost in a whisper, all but reading his thoughts, since his torso seems to deflate at that.
“Yeah,” he breathes out.
There’s a little grin on your face now. You lean back to let Steve rearrange himself on the mattress, until he’s lying in the middle of it with you on top of him.
Your hands rest on top of his knees, sliding all the way down to his groin, but before they get there, Steve lays his own on top of yours. “Wait. Before we start…”
“Yeah?”, you ask, about to be concerned.
“Um… W-Well, you said on the phone… But I’d already— Uh…”
You exhale a laugh at his little stammering. “What, sweetheart?”
“Uhhh…” Steve smiles shakily. “Y-You said…”
“I said…?”
“You s-said… you wanted to have your fun, too, but I’d already— By that point, I’d…” Steve covers his nervous giggle with his right hand and looks elsewhere.
A heavy current of pleasure drops down your belly. “Oh, baby.” Your hands lower to the juncture between his legs and groin, fondling the surrounding place without giving him what he wants, to which he whimpers. “Did you stretch yourself?”
“Ah— I mean… I called you like an hour after that?” His voice is nothing more than a whisper now.
He tries to hide from the weight of your gaze behind his hands but—
Your hands hold onto his wrists. You gently push them against the sides of his head.
Steve’s eyes glaze over.
“How many?”, comes your rumbling voice.
And he has to inhale heavily, in vain, because his response comes as a whisper. “Four.”
You use the grip on his wrists as leverage to push yourself onto him, and he allows you and welcomes you into his open mouth. Your tongue pushes into his mouth, and he has the frenzied realization that you’re virtually fucking his mouth with it.
Steve cries out. His eyes roll back as he feels himself leaking.
He tries to prolong the feel, but you pull back too soon, and he finds himself whining at the loss.
“Got yourself all nice and open for me? That’s so good, baby.” Your heavy, grumbling voice against his lips has him trying to cross his legs uselessly, since you’re in the way.
Steve bites his lip. “Sorry,” he says, moving his legs around to caress yours, urging you to do more.
“Why are you sorry?” You laugh while you take your hands off his wrists and lay them to the sides of his head. You think you imagine the disappointment in his eyes when you do this.
“You said you wanted to…”
“That was all talk, sweetness. I absolutely do not mind that we can skip that part and go straight to the main course.”
At that, Steve can only shut his eyes tightly and bite back a moan. He opens them just as quick, embarrassed at his own reaction.
You just give him a tight-lipped smile. “Not sure if this is gonna reassure you or do the opposite, but I’m pretty sure you still need more prep before we do anything else.”
Steve’s right hand rubs at his mouth nervously. “Oh my God…”, he mumbles, even though he has a small nervous smile on his face as his eyes lower to your big erection. “Right.”
“Right,” you echo with a contrite smile. “Did you forget about it?”
“N-No. Not at all.” Steve looks up and elsewhere as he mutters the following: “You have my word.”
“Do I?”, you tease, stretching towards your night table and opening the drawer.
Steve bites his nails as he watches you do this. “Mm-hm.”
When you have the objects you were looking for in your hands, you show them to him, and he centers on the one on your right hand with an hyperfocus you’ve seldom seen on him.
Steve’s eyes rest on the condom packet with apprehension and excitement at the same time.
You lay it and the tube of lubricant on the bed, between his open legs, next to you. Leaning down to rest a quick kiss on his bitten lips, you run the fingers of your right hand through his hair. “Whenever you want to stop, just say so.”
“‘Kay,” he whispers bashfully.
You lean back, staying in a kneeling position between his parted legs, and smirk at him. “Now, I would totally like to know more about this little bit of playing you did before you came here,” you say as you open the lid of the tube.
Steve covers his mouth with his right hand as he giggles. “What’s there to know?”, he asks shyly.
You pour some lube on your right hand and rub your hands together to warm it up. “Just fun stuff. Did you find your prostate?”
Steve looks elsewhere with a shy smile. “No. I mean— Not today.” His right hand lowers to his chest, resting atop his thundering heart.
“Hm? Then how…?”
“Just…” Steve clenches his eyes shut as he giggles nervously. “Just from my fingers.”
“Oh, yeah?” Your right hand lowers to his entrance while your left hand goes to his hard cock. You don’t even need to stroke him; he’s already turned on enough from your previous teasing. “Just from the penetration alone?”
Steve nods meekly. Then, as he feels your fingers spread the lube on his already tender entrance, he lays his left hand on your wrist. “I… Let me touch you, too. Don’t wanna leave you hanging like the last time.”
You chuckle. He’s just so sweet for you. You can feel his hand shaking. Lifting your left hand from his erection, you rub the unlubed knuckles from that hand onto his own. “Let me be selfish, yeah? I wanna make this about you today.”
It’s really telling for you that he doesn’t insist. “Okay… You sure?”
Your middle and ring finger prod at his hole, leading him to gasp in short breaths. “Yes. Just leave it to me, sweetheart.”
He nods resolutely, then.
Now, at the same time that you start pushing in the two fingers in the middle, your hand returns to his hard cock, which hasn’t gone down at all— You think it might actually be harder now. Steve’s jaw drops open when he feels your two fingers start pushing in, almost easily from how much he’s stretched himself before he arrived here. Even that initial stretch feels heavenly to him: your thick fingers fill him out so good, and they feel so different from his. Whereas he’s used to his own smooth, almost delicate ones, yours are hard and rough. Thicker, too. Steve bites his lower lip as you breach him to the second knuckle, choosing to still yourself to let him get used to this small stretch.
His legs twitch to the sides of you, rubbing onto yours in a sensual caress. “Come on…”, he mumbles.
“‘Want more?”, you ask, not waiting for an answer before you push the two fingers to the last knuckle.
Steve’s back arches in a beautiful curve as he gives you the most breathless and erotic moan. He quickly lets himself fall from it just to hold himself up on his hands behind himself, half-sitting up, all to see the place where you’re joined.
You give him a small chuckle. “Oh, you wanna take a look.”
He looks up at you from under his lashes, because he does. He wants to see, and he wants to feel the same way you made him feel so many days ago. Steve’s breaths are so noisy now; he can’t stop himself when he sees and feels the way you are thrusting in and out of him, two fingers at the sides of the ones inside him just like he’s fantasized about. His feet are restless, stirring next to you on the bed, increasingly rustling the bedsheets the faster you go.
Your fingers go softly now, barely coming out of him, just to rub circles along the walls inside him in a sensual massage that has him gasping out. Your other hand is barely a caress on his cock, knowing he now doesn’t need much more than your fingers.
The tips of your fingers suddenly press up against that spot. Steve’s body curls in itself.
“Fuck…”, he finds himself choking out.
His eyes are drawn to the place that connects you two, but he finds that he can’t keep looking for much longer, because you’re pulling him into a short kiss that leaves him even more breathless. When you separate, he looks at you impatiently, and his voice is nothing more than a whisper.
“Come on. Come on.”
You chuckle through your nose. “Eager.” But you pull your fingers out and press your index one against them, beginning to push in.
There’s a brief resistance, but as Steve breathes out heavily and wills himself to relax, you manage to thrust inside, this time with more pauses in-between.
Steve’s mouth opens to draw in as much breath as he can. Putting one hand on his pounding heart, he looks at you with something that can only be described as adoration.
You give him a little smile. Taking your left hand off his member, you lay it atop his own, on his chest, gently pushing him back on the bed.
“Relax.” Your low, rumbling voice is soothing for his nerves, so he obeys. He lies on the bed, growing more restless with each second that passes.
In a weak voice, he requests: “The last one— Add the last one.”
“You sure?”, you ask, knowing that he should get used to the current stretch, but you still thrust out until you’re at his rim, adding the fourth and final finger next to the other three.
Steve nods so eagerly you have to laugh.
With a lot of patience, taking his cock in hand to soothe him further, you begin to thrust four thick fingers inside him, meeting resistance right away.
Your left hand strokes him slowly, focusing on the head to bring out the greatest amount of pleasure possible. “You have to unclench for this, baby,” you mumble out.
Right after, your right thumb presses against his perineum, drawing a startled moan out of him. You feel him clamping down on you even further for a second, and then you do it again.
Steve hides his eyes under the back of his hand, already winded from this. He can feel himself surrendering to your touches, opening up to let the tips of your fingers thrust in, just far enough to breach him. “Fuck…” His moan is prolonged as he uncovers himself, looking at the general direction of your hands.
“That’s it…”, you encourage him.
Softly, you inch in, until you have four fingers seated deep inside him.
Steve heaves in a loud breath.
“There we go. So good for me, Stevie.” His moan at this is choked off when he feels your rough fingertips moving around in him. “Feels good?”
He moans again, but cuts himself off with a short cackle. “What do you think?”
That only makes you chuckle as well. “Yeah, I bet it feels real good.” You start pulling out, loving the way his legs just can’t stay still. “Just look at how much you’re leaking, baby.” Your left hand focuses on the tip of his cock at the same time you thrust back in, drawing a small shrill sound from him.
Steve tries to look at the place you’re showing him. He does. He just can’t with the way you’re suddenly pushing up, pressing against that bundle of nerves.
He shouts.
His body trembles, his hands hold onto your wrist, his legs kick against your hips, and his own hips grind onto your hand, desperate for more of that contact.
You gladly give it to him. The more you rub circles and press harshly against his prostate, the more Steve’s resolve thins out. Sparks fly behind his eyelids as he tries to process the amount of pleasure you’re giving him, feeling himself slowly drenching your hand in pre-cum.
He can’t take much longer than this. He grabs your left wrist, stopping the movements of your hand on his cock. “N-Not gonna last if you keep…”
Your left hand leaves his cock. “Yeah. You probably can come just from my fingers, can’t you?”
And you press up inside him, at the same time you press with your thumb from the outside, and he wails.
He brings himself out of it with a giddy laugh as you begin pulling your fingers out. He rests his hand on his eyes. “You did that on purpose.”
Your smile is wolfish as you wipe your hands on the sheets, lean forward, and get closer to him. “Maybe.”
And then he’s uncovering his eyes, looking up at you as you take hold of the pillow under his head. Steve shifts to help you, and when he sees you bring that same pillow at the height of his hips, he starts biting his lip with impatience. He understands what you’re trying to do. With the help of his feet, he pushes his hips up, enough for you to slide the pillow under them, leaving him in a very vulnerable position.
You lean into him once more, and when your groins just slot together, he shivers, overwhelmed all of a sudden. You understand this, and push downward, taking his lips in a soft, soothing kiss he yields to.
Steve withdraws first because he needs to take a deep breath to not lose it. His hands grab at your shoulders, unsure of how to anchor himself.
“Need a break?”, you ask him, concerned.
He just shakes his head with vigor. Biting his lip, he wraps his legs around your hips, pushing you against him. You both moan at the contact.
You laugh. “Alright, then. Let me just…” You lean back, Steve’s hands falling from your shoulders and laying on his own chest now. You grab the packet, open it, and start rolling the ring of the condom on your cock, before Steve’s hands come to rest on yours. “Wanna help me?”, you ask.
Steve nods, unable to get the nervous smile off his face, and, with his hands under yours, he starts sliding the condom on.
Once his hand gets to your base and you’re done groaning about it, you grab the tube of lubricant and pour a generous amount on your member. You stroke yourself a couple of times before you inch closer to Steve.
And Steve looks at you with excitement and the slightest tinge of agitation before he brings his own folded legs closer to his own chest.
“That’s it, sweetheart. Hold yourself open for me,” you mumble, grabbing his right knee with your left hand and laying a kiss on it.
With your right hand, you take hold of your cock, and slowly, very slowly, start pushing inside.
Steve clamps down around you almost immediately. His throat chokes around a moan, and his legs twitch in your hold. “Sorry.”
You lay wet kisses on the inside of his right leg, your mouth twisted in a small smile. “Why?”
He chews on his nails while he looks elsewhere. “I dunno,” he mumbles, embarrassed.
That makes you smile. Your right hand leaves your cock, which is already fixed in place, ready to thrust in, and it goes around his cock. You stroke him softly for some seconds, loving the small changes in his expression, how gorgeous he looks with every single face you can pull off him. His small noises prompt you to keep stroking him, subtly pushing forward to start inching into him.
He clenches with each small inch you push inside, and as you manage to push the end of your head inside, he hisses between gritted teeth, and puts his hands on your shoulders. “Just… a second.”
“Of course,” you answer, stilling in place to let him get used to the stretch, which is quite a lot more than four of your fingers.
Steve’s eyes are also clenched shut, but after some seconds he opens them, looking at you from under his lashes, breathing heavily and quickly. He nods at you, resolutely.
You lean down to surround him completely, and his arms easily go around your shoulders, anchoring himself with you. Your mouth seeks his, and he meets you in the middle with enthusiasm, or perhaps anxiety. Steve pushes forward with his lips, trying to get the most of the kiss, and you open his mouth in turn, pushing your tongue onto his.
As you do this, your hips push forward minimally, starting to thrust yourself inside him while you distract him, but it seems to not work that well.
Steve pulls off you. “W-Wait,” he grits out. He looks at you with a grimace that he’s trying to conceal with a quivery smile, but you know him too well for that.
“Of course,” you say once again, because you’ll take as much time as he needs to. “Hurts?”
He opens his mouth to answer, but seems to lose his nerve and shyly looks to the side.
“Tell me the truth, baby.”
“Kinda…”, he mumbles.
You give him a small peck on the lips for reassurance. “That’s okay. Just tell me when you’re ready to go.”
Steve gives you the tiniest nod, too embarrassed by himself. Some seconds pass, before his restless legs rub imperceptibly around your waist, him looking at you and nodding. “Okay.”
You take your cue and start pressing forward once more, but once again, his arms cling tight around your neck and he yelps: “Wait!”
You’re halfway into him, and the way he’s clenching around you is almost sexually tortuous, but you obviously heed his word again. “Sorry. Sorry.”
Steve’s pinched expression eases up after a second, and this time, he gives you a genuine smile, pressing his mouth to the side of your neck to cover it in kisses. “You treat me so nicely,” he mumbles out, like it makes him bashful to say it.
You feel your chest soar at this. There’s a small, breathless chuckle coming straight from your chest right now. “Do I?”, you ask, even though it’s pointless, because you’re only showing him basic decency.
But your Steve still looks you in the eye and nods.
Another small chuckle, and now you’re leaning back. “Okay.”
Steve seems almost confused as your hands grab at the back of his knees, but then realizes what you’re going to do as you manipulate his legs until they’re crossed, and then place them in a right angle to his body, his ankles coming to rest above the left side of your neck. “What are we doing now?”, he asks, almost forgetting he still has half of your cock inside him.
“I’m putting your legs in a specific position that’ll help you relax better,” you explain, noticing his still-puzzled expression. “Your anus. This position helps you relax your anus.”
Steve bursts out laughing, covering his mouth with his hands because it’s just rolling off him now. You laugh with him.
“I thought it was the other way round,” Steve says. “Like, with my legs open?”
“That’s for the pussy,” you answer, and you rest your hands on his crossed knees, laying hot kisses on the expanse of his shins. Steve shivers at this. “You ready?”
Biting his lip, he nods slowly, bracing himself once again.
“Alright, sweetheart. Remember to push out, too.”
Steve laughs, almost in a sob, because you’re starting to inch forward, and this position does help him a lot, and as he does as he’s told, he finds that what felt like something impossible is now too easily possible.
Your hips meet his ass almost too quickly, sending him scrambling for a grip on the bedsheets. He breathes in and out like he’s hyperventilating. His left hand is now on his chest, trying to calm his heart down. You lower your right hand to that hand and lay it on top of it, wanting to reassure him.
His expressions. God. His expressions are something out of this world. His eyes are closed, eyebrows pinched and mouth open to let out quiet moan after moan.
As soon as Steve opens his eyes, they stray towards the place where you’re joined.
“Oh my God,” he says, almost in a whisper.
“Too much?”, you ask.
Steve shakes his head. “Just… a lot.” He bites his lip to hold back his little noises whenever he feels your cock so much as twitch inside him. His free hand covers his mouth. “So big…”, he says, almost to himself.
“Yeah?” You teasingly move your hips a minimum fraction, and that is enough to have Steve gasping out and shifting his legs onto your shoulder.
When he sees your amused expression, he almost pouts, though it’s obvious that he’s trying to look teasing, too. “You’re mean. I thought you were gonna be gentle with me…”
His words make something hot and heavy settle deep in your belly. Your grip on his legs gets tighter, and he makes the quietest little squeak at it. “Yeah. I did say that.” Your right hand rubs up and down his left thigh, going down to his cheek and fondling it to open him up more. Steve makes a breathless moan at this. “I’m gonna be so nice to you, baby. In fact, I’m gonna go real nice and slow, just so you can see how gentle I’m being with you.”
He moans openly now. Steve finds that while he likes that idea, he also craves something different in the near future.
For now, he just nods.
So you start. Using your grip on his gorgeous long legs, caressing his left one down to his ass and back up, you start pulling out of him, hearing his long intake of breath. You do this until you’re halfway into him, and then push forward until you meet his hips again. Steve breathes heavily and quickly, his jaw slack as he tries not to succumb and close his eyes to the sensations. Then, you do this again a couple of times, thrusting out and in minimally, just so that he can get used to the stretch. His legs twitch every time your hips meet his rear. His left hand has returned to his chest, and you find this so endearing; you know how nervous but excited Steve is by this, so much so that he tries to halt his pounding heart however he can.
Now your hips are pulling back further, until only the head of your cock is inside him. You push all the way into him with the same slow pace. Steve’s expressions are something wonderful. You know he can’t help himself when he clenches his eyes shut at the pleasure, but still tries to open them as soon as he can every single time.
On the next thrust, you pull back, and this time, the head of your cock starts sliding out of him.
Steve hisses and clamps down when he feels the widest part of it breaching him on its way out.
You shush him and kiss his shins. “Relax,” comes your soothing mumble.
His breaths turn quicker, and his eyes close for a brief second before he opens them again, looking at you with dazed eyes and nodding.
You feel him gradually unclench as you’re pulling out completely, the tip barely inside him. Then, you push forward once again.
Steve has less trouble to take you in this time, if the way you’re easily fitting inside with a smooth thrust is indicative enough.
And once again, he gives you a breathless moan when you’re all the way in.
“Alright there?”, you have to ask, because you know of his tendency to hide his own discomfort at times. Luckily, he gives you a genuine smile and —this makes you laugh— a thumbs-up. “Alright, you dork.”
“Yeah,” he adds on. His flushed face now takes on a darker hue. “Actually… can you go a bit faster now?” He mumbles the last part, like it embarrasses him to say so.
You laugh softly at him. “Obviously.”
Now, you’re pulling out of him all the way, and pushing back in with a bit more force than before. This leaves Steve breathless, jittery, and blissed out all the same. So you do it again and again. With each thrust, your pace increases, and the friction makes his mostly-quiet moans rise in volume. What were previously soft noises of skin slapping begin turning loud too.
You’re purposefully avoiding his prostate. You think it might be a good idea to build up to it first, so as to get him used to the stretch before you do anything, but you know it won’t be a long time now.
Steve slowly parting his legs to bring them to the sides of you tells you enough.
“Tired of that position?”
He shakes his head. “Just…” He rises his arms to encircle your shoulders, face burning at this point while you’re still thrusting in and out of him. “…wanna hold you.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” You give him what he wants.
Steve’s legs wrap around your waist as you push in and out of him. The newfound friction of your belly on his cock has his legs growing restless, his moans pouring from his lips freely now. His eyes can’t stay open for too long.
He makes the effort just to look at you, long enough to let you know he wants you to kiss him. So you do. He opens his mouth to deepen the kiss as you start going faster, small moans slipping from the spaces in-between.
Steve withdraws, already feeling breathless.
After some long moments like this, just thrusting at a moderate pace and looking at each other with — something strong, something that could shakily be called love, his face begins to show some signs of discomfort, too subtle to seem that way to any other person, but you know your boy well enough.
“Hurts?”
“Just my hips,” he talks in between moans.
You gradually slow down until your movements are minimal, something that seems to turn Steve antsy. You ignore this for a second, though there’s a smile on your face at his impatience. “Must be the position.”
You stop completely. Steve tries to not make such a loud whine at this, but it’s obvious that it doesn’t work. He blushes right after.
As you pull out completely, he makes the quickest yelp at the emptiness.
“How about this?”, you ask. Your hands softly grab at his sides, starting to manipulate his body in a way that lets him know you want him to turn around.
Steve blushes even further and starts giggling when he understands. He rolls over until his chest is to the bed.
“Just like that,” you grumble. “On your hands and knees, yeah?”
It’s a good thing that you can’t see his face, because Steve just about melts from pleasure at your words, and it embarrasses him so bad that he makes the smallest whine. He does as he’s told, though. This position leaves him feeling vulnerable and open, until you lie across his back and envelop him, making him feel safe now.
“Good boy,” comes your low mumble, and Steve’s jaw drops to let the quietest moan out.
Your right hand grabs your cock, and at the first contact of your tip against him, he clamps down once again. Steve bites his lip as he tries to relax, breathing heavily.
Slowly, you begin to breach him once more, feeling the small contractions around your cock. “Close your legs, baby.” He obeys, knees rustling the bedsheets, and suddenly you’re thrusting all the way into him again.
Steve lets out a loud moan, loud enough to be considered a shout. This position is… something else. It leaves him reeling from how much deeper it somehow feels, almost hurting from it. Most of all, Steve can feel himself surrendering to you, feeling so safe and loved.
His arms quiver, struggling to hold his weight already. At the same time that he notices this, you start pulling out only to push in with a strong thrust that makes him buckle and fall down to his elbows. Steve’s moan at this is something so erotic it has you throbbing inside him.
“Good to keep going?”, you ask him, and he nods enthusiastically from under you.
Now you resume that moderate pace you had before, only this time, somehow, it feels more intense. You hips slap against the back of his legs every time they meet, filling the room with the erotic sounds of skin against skin and his loud, airy moans. Steve can’t keep his eyes open anymore. He just yields to the intensity of your thrusts, feeling full to the brim with your big cock going in and out of him. His moans increase in volume the more you press down against him, because he understands what you’re trying to do.
Your hands rest on the high of his back, pressing down with gentleness. “Lie down.” You find just the tiniest bit of resistance, probably because Steve almost can’t stand the idea of getting even more pleasure than this. “Trust me. It’ll feel so good.”
So Steve shakily obeys. His arms go lax to his sides as he lays his chest on the mattress, his spine almost straining from the curve you’ve enforced onto him.
Your cock presses on his prostate.
Steve screams.
“Ah— Fuck!” His legs fold on themselves, and his feet kick against the bed as you continue stimulating him. “Fuck— Oh my God. Th-That’s…”
“Feels good, right?” You lay off his prostate for the moment, knowing it probably wouldn’t take much to overwhelm him if you kept on.
“Y-Yeah…” Now you can feel his quivering legs working to— to meet your thrust. “Again. Please.”
“Oh, yeah?” Your hips bear down with force on his own, and you know you’re hitting his prostate dead-on because his wails are so sudden and loud they almost scare you.
“Yes!” His jaw is left open in an endless moan, eyes clenched shut at the intensity.
The more you keep pressing down, the more you feel his body lowering, wondering why this could be, until you lean up a fraction and notice his legs sliding open on the bed. Your cock throbs at the sight. To know that he’s so turned on that he can’t keep up with you…
“Fuck— S-Sorry— Can’t h-hold myself up.” Steve confirms this same thought as he keeps moaning.
You laugh in his ear— It’s something almost mean that has Steve’s eyes wide open in a second. “Don’t worry about it,” you say as you keep thrusting, following him to the mattress.
Suddenly, your right leg is pushing his own closer to his center. Your left one does the same with the other one. As soon as you have him in the position you want, your legs press against the sides of his, holding them together tightly, not allowing him to open them to lie in a puddle on the mattress.
Steve screams at this.
“Holy— fuck!” He screams, he moans, he wails, because this specific position has your cock rubbing against his prostate on every single thrust, and it has you going deeper still, and he starts to feel himself lose it when it almost hurts when you reach the end of his walls on every thrust, feeling so small and almost bursting at the seams with it.
You know that it won’t take longer for him, so you keep bearing down on him, focusing on that bundle of nerves, feeling it increase in size the slightest bit. Your hips go faster.
Steve begins to feel the same way he did the other day. There is this very specific intense feel that comes from his prostate and has him feeling desperate, because it’s so different from anything he’s ever felt.
He knows he’s going to come just from this, and this time, though terrified, he’s ready for it.
“C-Close— Ah— I’m close.” He says this, and you kiss the back of his nape, your left hand going under his body to press against his pounding heart. Steve’s left hand presses against yours, intertwining your fingers. “J-Just from this!”
“Yeah? You want it?”
He nods so quickly it almost makes you laugh. “It’s weird. F-Feels so weird. I really— fuck!— Really feel l-like…!”
“Okay, baby. Let it happen. I’m right here. It’s alright.”
Steve nods, his face in such agonic pleasure he’s almost glad you can’t see it, because you’d probably feel concerned over him. “Okay. O-Okay—!,” he concedes, his heart beating faster at the mounting feeling.
The more you thrust against him, the more he can feel himself losing it, until the feeling turns so intense he almost can’t breathe.
“C-Coming— I’m coming! I’m coming! Oh my God!” Steve’s voice turns desperate.
And he screams.
His body seizes. A sensation he’s never felt before ravages his entire body. His eyes sting with a hint of tears at it. He feels a forceful tremble throughout his limbs, and he’s left unable to control them as he feels himself coming and coming and coming, so intensely it almost hurts, and in such a different way he’s almost ashamed, because he really thought…
But there’s no room for thoughts in his mind because he’s still coming, and he’s still moaning without noticing, shutting his eyes at the acuteness of the feeling.
“Oh, that’s it, baby. You’re squeezing me so hard— fuck!”
As Steve begins coming down from the longest and most intense orgasm of his life, he moans weakly when he feels your hips shuttering behind him, yelping at the warmth of your cum filling the condom.
After some long seconds of you groaning in his ear, which makes his hurting cock valiantly attempt to twitch, you pull out of him, softly, though it still makes him yelp, almost in a whisper, until you’re off.
Without the support of your legs against his, he drops to the bed in a helpless pile.
Steve’s chest rises and lowers quickly, still trying to draw in as much breath as possible and to calm his still-pounding heart. You lie to the side of him, your right hand caressing the expanse of his back to let him know you’re still there.
You know he’s not even processing this, too gone to even notice you’re not holding him up anymore.
But after some long minutes, Steve calms down enough and regains enough lucidity to shift on the mattress, feeling your hand on his back and sighing at the sensation.
With what you think is the biggest display of effort in history, his arms strain enough for his head to rise and turn to the side you’re on.
Steve looks at you without saying anything. You don’t know if it’s because he doesn’t know what to say, or because he can’t, so you do, first.
Sliding down the bed to be at the same height as his head, you circle your arm around his back, and say: “Hey. That was a full-body one, wasn’t it?” You kiss his left shoulder.
He still won’t answer. You start getting concerned, before he smiles, bigger and bigger, until he’s giggling against the bedsheets. He mushes his face into the mattress as he does this.
You laugh with him, still not understanding if he’s too out of it and high on endorphins.
After some seconds, Steve stills, and his concealed face turns just the slightest fraction, just enough for his eye to peek, showing you that he’s sporting the darkest blush ever.
“Um…”, he starts. “Hi?”
And that makes you laugh even harder. “Hi, baby. How are you feeling?”
Steve turns his head further towards you, biting his lip. “Good.”
“Good,” you repeat. “How did all of that feel?”
His expression is so cute to see now. It’s like he’s getting shy all over again after everything you’ve just done. His lips twitch, not knowing whether to smile or to bite his own lower lip. “Good,” he mumbles again.
You hum, almost teasingly. “Just ‘good’?”
Steve laughs, embarrassed, shoving your face with a weak hand while you laugh. “What do you think? Jesus. I can’t even move.”
You give him a wolfish smile, but contradict it when you wrap your arms around his body. Steve lets himself be surrounded by you, feeling small and safe in a way he’s never had before.
677 notes · View notes
batty4steddie · 1 year ago
Text
One word prompt convulsed.
They had gone a couple rounds already. Steve was sweaty and sore but couldn’t get enough of Eddie and his monster cock. He had never felt so full or exposed in this position. Hanging over the edge of the bed, ass up, legs wrapped around Eddie’s hips, gave him the ultimate leverage to go deeper than he ever had. Steve’s upper body strength was really being tested as he braced his hands flat on the floor. His whole body convulsed when Eddie pounded one more time right into his prostate, making him come hard.
189 notes · View notes