#((please?))

You were trying not to be nervous about it. To not let your anxiety eat you alive at each kiss he pressed down on your stomach, going lower and lower.

You wanted to turn off the lights at least, but you completely forgot about them when Steve started kissing you senseless, touching you all over with his hands, manhandling you towards the bed, and then ravishing your neck. You were so gone that you didn't even notice the moment he took his shirt off, or the moment you did to turn off the lights at least.

But now, as you lay there in your bra only, and he just kept going downwards, your self-consciousness returned, eyes wide as you looked around the room. Because he would not only feel it, but see it. It was going to be a double blow, and you were so scared.

So scared he would not like what he saw down there.

You were conscious about it, too much for anyone's liking. Your friends told you that you were exaggerating, that no guy ever cares about it, but your ex situationship proved that wrong when he decided to tell you straight up what was happening when you asked him why he didn't eat you out.

'I'm sorry, I'm just— Down there, it doesn't look that… nice. Kinda turns me off…'

And for a second, you wondered if he talked about pussy in general… But you realized he meant yours. Just yours.

You looked at yourself with a handheld mirror, and before that comment, you never had a problem, but now— You did. You fucking did. Everything looked wrong. Everything looked disgusting, unflattering, just not ideal. You even started doing research for vaginal rejuvenation, or whatever that was.

So, you had sex later on, with lots of precautions. Lights off, avoid him from going down on you, avoid him from touching you, and do it yourself to get wet. If he could see it, he could feel it. You preferred not to.

But then you met Steve.

And Steve looked… perfect. He was nice, beautiful, attentive, caring, funny… and sexy. Of course he was. Too good to be true. You went on various dates, kissing, rubbing, but whenever it started moving for more, you backed off. He respected you, every single time, but the truth was, you were scared. More scared than at any of the other times in the past. You were terrified.

"Steve—" You breathed out, and he hummed against your stomach, his fingers playing with the elastic of your underwear.

"Mmm?" He purred out, and you just wanted to let go. You wished you could. You wanted to feel him. His tongue, his fingers, just everything, but you couldn't risk it. You couldn't risk losing Steve.

"Wait— Wait!" You panicked, and his head went up instantly, eyes wide, hair disheveled, and lips red from the make-out session from minutes ago.

"What is it? Did I hurt you? Did I fuck up?" You frowned with sadness at his words, and you shook your head, taking a deep breath in, closing your eyes.

"No! I— You just don't have to do that… You don't have to do anything, trust me—"

"But I want to, darling. I promise I can take good care of you," He smirked your way, and you wished you weren't so pathetic. You wished you were those kinds of girls who did not care about what they thought about their bodies. But you weren't.

"I know you would, but— Still, I'm— I'm already wet, so you don't really have to—" He sighed, kneeling up between your open legs, looking down at your body.

"What's going on?" He looked pissed. Or stressed? Or worried? You didn't know. You really didn't because anything was possible with the way you were acting. You slowly sat up, shaking your head a little bit desperately.

"Nothing's wrong…"

"Right… Then if nothing's wrong, let me continue." He pressed, and you knew he caught you. You knew by the way he was looking at you. You gulped, looking down at his lap.

"Promise… You won't laugh?" His eyes widened, and his features turned into worried ones.

"Wait… Did you never… Oh my god, I didn't— I should have asked—" He was nervously moving away from you, and you shook your head again, grabbing at his arm so he wouldn't leave.

"No! No… I'm not a virgin, no…" He settled back down, tilting his head with curiosity, and you could feel your ears ringing as you looked away from his gaze. "I just don't want you to… think it's bad…"

He pursed his lips, frowning, "What could be bad?" Your cheeks are set ablaze, as well as your entire body.

"My… down there…"

He stayed silent for a second, processing your words. You were still not looking at him, and he was just trying to make sense of what you just told him.

"You… I'm not sure what you mean—?"

"God, Steve, my pussy is not pretty." Your eyes finally met his, and he stared at you for a long time, and you felt your stomach turning and turning, almost making you nauseous. He finally scoffed, shaking his head.

"I'll be the judge of that." Your eyes widened, and you shook your head at him.

"No— No, someone already was, and I've seen it, and I just don't want this to stop because of it," You breathed out quickly and desperately, while Steve kneeled there in front of you. He could see the nervousness in the way your eyes went back and forth on his, the dent on your eyebrows going downwards, and he wondered… Who was the asshole that made you feel like this?

"Sweetheart… Do you have teeth down there?" You frowned now, confused.

"What? No?"

"Tentacles?"

"The fuck—"

"Some kind of HPV—"

"Steve, why are you asking all of this nonsense?" You thought he was making fun of you, but he smiled sweetly, shaking his head.

"Unless you've got any of those, you're perfectly normal." You sat there, a little shocked at his reassurance, and for some reason, it calmed you down, even if a little. He put a strand of your hair behind your ear, his lips coming to brush against yours, and your heart skipped a beat as he whispered against you. "Can I make you feel good now?"

You hesitated, but something inside you told you to trust him. Maybe it was his eyes, a mixture of need, of lust, of approval, and of determination. He was set on making you feel good, and you could feel it. So you lay back down, slowly, worried about the lights around the room, but a kiss on your calf distracted you, making you gasp.

He was holding your leg up, a smile on his lips, and you felt your body burning up at the attention you didn't know you missed. Or the attention you never had.

"Just look at me, darling. Look at me." His fingers went back to dancing on the elastic of your underwear, letting your foot touch the bed again, your legs bent on each side of his body. You could feel your heart coming out of your chest, blood pumping on your throat as he started to urge you to lift your hips up so he could take your underwear off.

You took a deep breath in, lifted your hips just a bit, and then helped him with each leg, so he could take the thong off. Your knees met against his chest, not letting him gaze down at you. He growled a bit, shaking his head, rubbing his hands on your knees. He did a 'nuh-uh' sound with his throat, and you wanted to whine, to fight, protest, but your gut told you to believe. So, you slowly opened up your legs for him.

You were almost shaking as you avoided looking at his face. Avoided looking at his reaction. Avoided seeing the disappointment. His eyebrows knitted in the middle, but not in disgust… In pleasure.

"And you almost hid from me… God—" You weren't expecting those words. You really weren't. You turned your head again to look at him, but his gaze was fixed on your center, moving down to rest on his stomach, coming face to face with your pussy. You still didn't know if he liked it, if he didn't, if he was faking it to make you feel okay with yourself. So many thoughts were racing in your mind, but your entire body jerked as sudden pain shot through your right inner thigh, making you snap your head to look down.

"What the—" You saw the red bite mark he left on your skin, and his eyes were gazing up at you.

"Don't think," Steve commanded, and you gulped, trying to follow his instructions, and he noticed your hesitation, so he planted a soft kiss on your belly, urging you to calm down. "You're beautiful. You're so pretty…"

You could feel your bottom part melting under his kisses. He kissed your inner thighs, above your clit, close to your lips, but not yet your center. You started to squirm under his touch, not noticing the smile that was forming on his lips.

"Steve…" You breathed out, and he kept kissing you, breathing against your clit, only to go back to your inner thigh. You fluttered around nothing at each graze of his nose against you, and you could barely handle it. "Steve,"

"Mmm?" He was playing dumb, his eyes closed, not looking your way. He couldn't see your pleading eyes, your sighs at each brush of his against you.

"Can you please…?" You couldn't help the little groan, the little whine at the back of your throat. The complaint. He noticed, and he lifted his head up from between your legs.

"Please, what?" He pressed on, and you realized what he was doing, so you averted your eyes, a little bit embarrassed. "You want me to stop?"

"No!" Your head snapped up, looking down, and he was smirking delightfully.

"Then, what do you want me to do?" He could see your nervousness, probably having never done this before, so he decided to take it easy on you. He pressed his lips at the top of your clit, making your back arch slightly at the sensation. "Please, ask me… Ask me to eat you out…"

He sounded desperate. He sounded so needy of you, and you couldn't deny him any longer. Even with your insecurities, and even when your stomach was in knots of pure nerves, your need for him was much stronger than all of that, and it was all thanks to what he did to you.

"Please, Steve… Please, make me feel good…"

"Good enough…" And you heard him take a breath before the flat of his tongue pressed against your clit, and then his lips followed right after. Your mouth opened, a soft moan coming out of your throat as you stared at his bedroom ceiling.

And he wanted to take it slow. He really did. He wanted you to get accustomed, he wanted you to get more comfortable with his tongue, but, god he loved to hear you moan. So he licked a strip through your folds, tasting you, moaning in his throat as he took you in. You shivered at the feeling, your hands gripping the sheets below you.

"Steve—" Your eyes widened when he suddenly lost control. His arms were wrapped around your thighs, hands pressing at the front to push you further into his mouth. His nose rubbed against your clit as his tongue lapped through your folds like a starved man.

You moaned loudly, squirming underneath him as you panted, having missed the feeling of someone taking care of you. Of someone worrying about how you felt during sex. Of someone actually giving a fuck about making you feel good.

"You taste so good…" You heard him exhale against you, giving a kiss to your clit, "So sweet…" Then he sucked on it, giving a pointed lick with the tip of his tongue. "So, so, so pretty for me…"

You never received so much praise in your life. You never heard a man talk about you the way Steve was doing.

God, you might just fall in love.

Suddenly, you felt his tongue dip inside of you, making your eyes widen, your hands flying to grip at his hair. Your back arched, and whimpers came out from your mouth. His hold on you was strong, fingertips digging into your skin as you squirmed underneath him.

"Oh, fuck, Steve— Don't stop, holy shit—" You were not measuring the words coming out of your mouth, which rarely happened, but Steve was going to make you cum with just his tongue. You could feel it. The coil, just tightening the more he slurped, the more he moved, the more his nose rubbed against your now sensitive clit.

"Don't plan to." He mumbled quickly, before returning to eating you out, breathing heavily against you. If only you weren't so out of it because of the pleasure, you would have seen how Steve was rubbing himself against his mattress. You could hear the slurping, the gulping, of how messy he had become just from having you.

Your fingers gripped his hair, making him moan because of the pain, and knowing he was making you feel this good. He could feel you shake underneath him, making his eyes open to take a look at you, as best as he could, because the position didn't allow him much vision. Whenever the arch of your back went down, he could see your mouth wide open, moaning out, huffing, and your eyes were probably staring into the ceiling.

He growled at that, jerking your body, making you snap out, your head looking down to connect your gaze with his. Tears were forming on your waterline from pleasure, and he licked a stripe from your folds, getting his tongue out of you, to flick your clit with it. Your eyes widened again, your hands pushing him more into you as you felt your belly tighten.

"Oh god— Fuck, I'm—!" His lips connected with your clit, his tongue never stopping, and you finally lost it, jerking into him as your back arched upwards, head thrown back as the climax hit you like a train wreck. It was too powerful. You clenched around nothing, and he didn't stop, so you could ride it out. You cried his name out, over and over again, as your body shook, trembled, and moved underneath him.

He only stopped abusing your clit with his tongue when your fingers started to slowly release his hair. You were breathing heavily, eyes closed, feeling as if your entire body started to melt away. You unclenched from the nothingness, and you finally felt the last lick of his tongue along your slit, making you gasp and jerk away from overstimulation.

He chuckled against you, and he slowly released your thighs, letting them flop on the mattress. Your hands released his head, and he kneeled up once more, looking down at you. You looked wrecked. So fucking wrecked.

He might just fall in love.

You finally opened your eyes to see him staring down at you, and your slick was all over his mouth, his nose, down his neck, and his pupils were completely dilated. Your eyes traveled south, seeing his bulge trying to break free from his denims. A smirk displayed on his lips, wiping himself with the back of his hand.

"One thing you should know about me, baby… I love, LOVE, eating pussy."

He crawled on top of you, looking down at your eyes, and you knew right then and there that Steve Harrington was your doom. He could see the surprise in your eyes as his lips came to peck yours. You were sure that if you were to lick your bottom lip, you would be able to taste yourself. He continued, a breath away from your lips,

"And I can't wait to make you feel good, over… and over… and over again…"

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