#sub!steve

summary: thursday night at the sorority house and you order a pizza— it happens to be delivered by none other than steve harrington. high school’s golden boy, all washed up and cocky but you’ve been waiting for this.

wc: 3k ish

cw: 18+, SMUT, alludes to feet stuff kinda but really he’s just repressed and easy, loser boy steve, sorority girl reader, sub steve, overstim a little bit.

steve harrington hated thursdays.

too many drunk kids with too little cash. too many delivery bags that reeked like melted cheese sticking to his jeans, his skin. too many fake “thanks, man” before the door slammed in his face.

but this was the last one of the night. the big white sorority house on the corner lot, porch light blazing like a spotlight, music faint through the windows. a couple girls laughing loud enough to carry down the street.

he sighed, slouched lower in the driver’s seat. he could already picture it: a gaggle of girls squealing over free breadsticks, calling him “pizza boy” like it was the funniest thing in the world. maybe someone would tip decent, but probably not.

he pulled the visor off and tossed it into the passenger seat, running a hand through his hair. the thing flattened it weird, made him look even more like the loser he already was, and no way was he walking up to a sorority house looking like that.

steve caught his reflection in the rearview mirror. shadows under his eyes, stubble coming in uneven. he stretched a grin across his face anyway, something cocky, something familiar. it looked tired on him now, but it was better than nothing.

grabbing the box, he jogged up the steps, shaking out his shoulders like he was about to walk into a party instead of a transaction.

he lifted his fist to knock, but the door was already opening.

and there you were.

not what he expected at all—no mob of girls, no squealing. just you, leaning against the frame, calm and smug, magazine tucked under one arm like you’d been interrupted. your eyes flicked down at him, then at the pizza, then back at him.

and fuck, you were smiling.

“uh, hey,” he cleared his throat, holding the box out like a shield. “large pepperoni? extra mushrooms?”

you cocked your head, lips twitching. “guess so.”

your eyes dropped lower, not to the pizza, but to the small, half-cracked name tag clipped crooked to his polo. he’d forgotten it was even there.

your voice softened, teasing like a knife sliding in. “wait.. you’re steve. like steve harrington? from hawkins high?”

his stomach dropped, but he kept the grin fixed, too slow to stop the way it faltered at the edges.

you looked up at him through your lashes, feigning innocence, like you weren’t already pulling the ground out from under him. “you don’t remember me, do you?”

he opened his mouth—closed it. rubbed the back of his neck. “uh… i—look, i went to school with a lot of people.”

“mmhm.” you took the box from his hands, brushing his fingers just enough to make him jolt. “i knew it would be you. it was always you.”

his throat went dry.

and the worst part?

you were right.

he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, trying to pin down your face, your voice. the smug way you said his name made it worse—like you knew exactly how off balance he was.

“sorry, i—uh, i can’t quite place you,” he admitted, scratching behind his ear, a sheepish laugh puffing out of him. “we had… what, chem together? or history?”

you shook your head slowly, still smiling like you had all the cards. “it’s alright. i’ve changed a lot since then.” your eyes flicked over him, deliberate, slow. “but you… certainly haven’t.”

the look on his face twitched, stretched tighter. that one stung, and you wanted it to.

steve cleared his throat, redirecting fast. “so, uh—total’s $14.76.” he tapped the box lid like that settled it.

you sighed, patting the tiny front pockets of your denim shorts, the fabric straining around your hips. his eyes followed without meaning to, throat bobbing.

“damn,” you muttered, fingers coming up empty. “i forgot the cash.” you turned, tossing the words over your shoulder. “come in, i’ll grab it.”

and just like that, the door swung wider.

steve hesitated for a beat—every warning bell in his head going off—but the sway of your shorts as you disappeared deeper into the house drowned them all out.

he stepped inside.

the door clicked shut behind him, muffling the thrum of bass from upstairs. the front room was dim, quieter than he’d thought a sorority house would be on a thursday night. just two girls tangled up on the couch, giggling into each other’s shoulders, eyes flicking toward him as he walked past.

an unmistakable whisper followed him—hushed and sharp—but he couldn’t catch the words. heat crawled up the back of his neck anyway.

you didn’t wait, padding barefoot down the hall, and he trailed after you, pizza box balanced awkwardly against his chest like a shield.

the kitchen was bare, countertops scattered with half empty water bottles and a lone box of cereal. you tugged open a drawer, rifling around like you weren’t in any hurry.

“so,” you said over your shoulder, light and casual, “what’ve you been up to? after high school, i mean.”

he huffed a laugh, scratching the back of his neck again. “uh… you know. this and that. been, uh, busy.”

“busy delivering pizzas?” you teased, turning just enough to catch his flinch before he covered it with a smile.

you finally pulled a few bills free and pressed them into his hand—three crumpled fives. your fingers lingered a beat longer than necessary.

“keep the change,” you chirped, eyes bright. “so… what are you up to after your shift?”

he glanced at the cash, then back at you, sheepish. “this is my last delivery. so, uh… not sure.”

your grin widened, bubbling over. “oh! you could stay. hang out… catch up.”

the words landed like bait, and you knew he’d bite.

got it—his mouth saying “casual” while his body is screaming desperate. here’s the next beat:

“hang out, huh?” he leaned back a little, trying to look nonchalant, thumb hooking into his pocket. the smirk was there, practiced, easy.

but his other hand flexed uselessly against the pizza box, knuckles tight. his weight shifted forward like he was ready to follow you anywhere. his eyes flicked past you, quick, toward the hallway, like he was already imagining what “hang out” meant.

“yeah, i mean… i could stick around for a bit. no big deal.” his voice cracked on “deal,” just enough to betray him.

you caught it. you caught everything—the tension in his shoulders, the way he kept glancing at you, then away, then back again like he couldn’t stop himself.

you bumped your hip against the counter, tilting your head. “c’mon. my roomie’s out tonight. i was just gonna watch a movie.”

his mouth opened, closed. he dragged a hand through his hair, like he needed to reset the whole act.

“a movie sounds cool” he repeated, lips twitching.

but the way he swallowed hard, the way his chest rose quicker than before—yeah, his body told a different story.

you swung the fridge open, bent at the waist to dig through the bottom shelf until you emerged with two cold beers clutched in your hands.

“carry the pizza, would you?” you asked over your shoulder, breezy like you hadn’t just invited him to stay awhile.

“yeah, sure,” steve muttered, tucking the box under his arm. he followed you up the stairs, heartbeat loud in his ears, the sound of laughter and music from behind closed doors fading the higher you climbed.

your room door pushed open to reveal something warm and soft—string lights tacked along the wall, an unmade bed piled with pillows, a small tv balanced precariously on a dresser. you set the beers down on your bedside table , then hopped onto the mattress with a practiced little bounce, crossing your legs.

patting the space beside you, you grinned. “well? come sit.”

steve set the pizza on the nightstand and sank down onto the edge of the bed, trying to act casual, like this wasn’t the first girl’s room he’d been in for a long time that actually made his stomach twist with nerves.

but fuck—he couldn’t not look at you.

your shorts were small enough to make him sweat, denim straining around your thighs, the frayed hem brushing smooth skin. his gaze lingered too long at your ankles, bare and delicate, before tracing upward—the soft curve of your hips, the dip of your waist, the line of your stomach peeking when your top shifted.

then higher still: the swell of your chest, the slope of your shoulders, the column of your throat.

you leaned back on your palms, grinning at him like you knew exactly where his eyes had been.

steve licked his lips, dragged his gaze over to the tv.

he hoped to hell he wasn’t reading this entirely wrong.

you shifted suddenly, pushing up on your knees, the mattress dipping beneath you. steve froze as you crawled across the bed, close enough that the air changed, his chest tightening.

you leaned over him to reach the nightstand, cracking both bottles against the edge of the wood with an easy flick of your wrist. the hiss of carbonation filled the room.

you lifted one to your lips, tilting it back for a sip. his throat bobbed watching you, your mouth wrapped around the glass opening. then you scooted back toward him, pressing the very same bottle into his hand.

“here,” you said lightly, eyes sparkling.

his fingers brushed yours when he took it, lingering. he swallowed, suddenly aware of how warm the room felt.

“so, uh..what movie are we…?” his voice caught, cracking in the middle. he cleared his throat. “what movie are we watching?”

you smirked, settling back with your own beer. “heathers.”

he blinked. “heathers? i haven’t seen it.”

“one of my faves.” you sipped again, watching him over the rim. then, tipping your bottle toward his nike’s on his feet, you added, “take your shoes off, steve. come get comfy. i can’t eat this whole pizza by myself.”

your grin was playful, flirty—light on the surface, but weighted underneath.

and steve’s stomach flipped, because every word felt like an invitation.

his shoes ended up in a heap by the door, legs stretched out on the bed like he belonged there, though he didn’t feel like he did. you’d settled in beside him, not touching, but close enough that the heat of your body reached him.

and you smelled good. not perfume exactly—something softer, cleaner, something that curled right under his ribs.

he, on the other hand, was suddenly hyperaware of himself. the faint tang of grease and cheese clinging to his shirt, his skin, his hair. the hours of sweat from running deliveries. it made him sit a little stiffer, arms tucked in like that would somehow contain it.

you didn’t seem to mind.

a couple slices disappeared in silence, the tv flickering with bright color neither of you were really watching. steve took a sip from the bottle you’d handed him, trying to look relaxed, trying not to flinch every time your thigh shifted just an inch closer.

then you broke the quiet.

“so…” your voice was casual, but there was an edge of something else in it. “whatever happened to that girl you used to date in school? still with her?”

he froze mid chew, jaw tightening before he forced himself to swallow.

here’s steve’s reply—fumbling, defensive, and a little raw, with you keeping the upper hand:

“uh, nancy?” he wiped his hands on a napkin, suddenly too aware of the grease on his fingers. “nah. that… that ended a long time ago.”

you tilted your head, like you were piecing him back together from a distance. “huh. thought you two were gonna get married or something.”

he let out a laugh, sharp and humorless. “yeah, well. people thought a lotta things about me back then.”

you sipped your beer, eyes lingering on him over the rim. “so no girlfriend?”

“no,” he said too quickly. then, softer, “no. just me.”

his hand flexed against the blanket, restless, like he didn’t know what to do with it. he risked a glance at you, bracing for pity, for judgment.

but you just smiled—sweet, knowing, a little wicked.

and that made him squirm worse than anything else.

halfway through the movie, the pizza box sat abandoned on the floor, one corner soaked dark with grease. your bottle was nearly empty, his long since drained. the glow of the tv painted the room soft and flickering.

you’d shifted sometime during the last reel, stretching out more comfortably across the bed. your legs crossed, ankle sliding over shin, until your bare foot brushed lightly against his knee.

steve went stock-still.

just a touch, casual, but it lit him up in places he hadn’t felt in a long time. he told himself not to move, not to react—but his pulse jumped, and he knew you could probably hear it in the silence.

“you alright?” you asked finally, voice lilting, innocent like you didn’t know what you were doing.

his laugh came out tight. “yeah. fine. why?”

“you’re stiff.” you nudged his leg again with your toes, playful. “loosen up, harrington. you act like you’ve never hung out in a girl’s room before.”

his throat bobbed, mouth twitching like he couldn’t decide between a grin or a grimace. “not—like this.”

you smiled, slow, leaning back on your palms, foot still resting lightly against his jeans. “what’s different about this?”

he didn’t answer right away. his eyes dropped, betraying him—ankle, calf, the arch of your foot pressed against him like a secret.

“everything,” he muttered, almost too low for you to hear.

your grin widened.

you uncrossed your legs just to recross them the other way, deliberate, your foot dragging slow up the side of his calf before settling back on his knee.

“everything, huh?” you echoed, like you were tasting the word. “you’re awfully red for just hanging out, harrington.”

his jaw clenched, eyes flicking to the tv and back to you, quick and guilty. “it’s, uh, it’s warm in here.”

“mhmm.” your foot flexed against his thigh, nails grazing denim. “that’s it?”

he swallowed, throat working hard. “yeah. that’s it.”

but his body told on him—the shallow rise of his chest, the way his hand fisted in the blanket like he needed to anchor himself.

you tilted your head, lashes low, voice soft with feigned curiosity. “you’re not nervous, are you?”

he huffed a laugh, broken around the edges. “me? no.”

you shifted, leaning into his space, your foot still high on his thigh. he froze as your breath brushed his ear, the faintest graze of your lips against his skin.

“steve,” you whispered, fingers sliding through the soft strands at the nape of his neck, making him shiver. “wanna know a secret?”

his pulse jumped. “uh—sure.” it came out rough, too eager.

your smile curved against his ear. “i’ve always had a crush on you.”

he blinked, head jerking toward you, but you were already pulling back just enough to watch the disbelief flicker across his face.

“since high school,” you went on, voice syrupy. “and since you started delivering pizzas here once a week? at the start of the fall semester.” your fingers tightened lightly in his hair, tugging just enough to make his breath hitch. “i’ve just always wanted to get close to you.”

the words poured straight through him, heat flooding low and fast.

he shifted, trying to hide it, but there was no disguising the way his jeans tented under the blanket, cock stiffening the longer you spoke.

you caught his glance downward, the shame in it, and your grin sharpened.

“guess i finally got what i wanted,” you teased.

and his body betrayed him again—thighs tensing, hips twitching like he couldn’t help himself.

your hand slipped from his hair down to his shoulder, then lower, settling warm and steady on his thigh.

steve went rigid.

your fingers traced lazy circles through the denim, inching higher, just millimeters from where he swelled against the fabric.

he tried to keep his breathing even, but the moment your nails dragged lightly upward, the sound tore out of him—low, broken, a moan he couldn’t catch in time.

his head dropped back against the wall, eyes squeezed shut, jaw tight.

you tilted closer, lips brushing the corner of his mouth but not quite giving him what he wanted. your words purred against his skin.

“don’t you wanna kiss me, steve?”

his eyes shot open, glassy and desperate, chest heaving like every bit of composure he’d been clinging to had just slipped right through your fingers.

he groaned, the sound torn from somewhere deep in his chest, and before you could smirk again he was moving.

“fuck.. c’mere—“ he breathed,

his hand shot up to cup your jaw, the other finding your waist, and then his mouth crashed into yours. messy, sudden, like he’d been holding back for hours instead of minutes.

you tasted the beer on his tongue, the faint salt of pizza, the desperation he couldn’t hide anymore. his kiss wasn’t smooth, wasn’t practiced—it was hungry, teeth grazing your bottom lip, a little too rough, like he was terrified you’d pull away.

you didn’t.

you let him devour you, your fingers sliding higher on his thigh, brushing deliberately against the bulge straining his jeans. he groaned into your mouth, hips jerking before he could stop them.

“fuck,” he muttered against your lips, breath ragged. “you’re—god, you’re gonna kill me.”

you shifted suddenly, swinging one leg over his lap, settling down on him with a slow, deliberate roll of your hips.

steve’s breath caught sharp against your mouth, hands flying to your waist like he couldn’t help himself. the hard line of his cock pressed hot against you through his jeans, and he groaned at the contact, head dropping back against the wall.

you kissed him again, slower this time, dragging it out, your tongue sliding against his until he was panting. then you tangled your fingers into his hair and tugged, hard enough to make his head tip back, throat bared.

the kiss broke, a string of spit catching for just a second before snapping.

you leaned over him, lips hovering at his jaw, your voice low and sweet and devastating.

“god, steve,” you murmured, tugging again so he gasped. “you get this hard just from kissing me?”

his hips bucked beneath you before he could stop them, a choked sound ripping out of him.

“fuck—yeah, i—” he stammered, eyes blown wide, hands clutching at you like he didn’t know whether to hold you still or beg for more.

you smiled against his skin, sharp and knowing.

“poor guy,” you taunted, and tugged his hair again just to hear him moan.

you didn’t kiss him again right away. not this time. instead, you rocked your hips down over his lap, slow and grinding, the hard ridge of his cock trapped beneath you.

steve bit back a curse, his head thumping against the wall, hands clutching tight at your waist. you dragged yourself over him again, denim rasping against denim, heat building sharp and fast between you.

“jesus,” he groaned, bucking up without meaning to, trying to chase the friction you gave him.

you rewarded him with another kiss—messy, wet, your tongue sliding into his mouth, swallowing the noises he couldn’t stop making. he kissed back like a man starved, sloppy and frantic, moaning every time you shifted against him.

your hand tangled in his hair again, tugging his head back so you could trail your mouth down his jaw, down his throat. his chest heaved under you, his hips rutting up clumsy and desperate, grinding hard into the pressure of your body.

“please,” he rasped, the word falling out of him like he hadn’t meant to say it. “fuck, i-i need to feel you.”

your laugh was low and delighted against his neck. “can’t be patient?”

his eyes squeezed shut, a whine catching in his throat when you rolled your hips again, slow and mean.

you leaned back, peeling your shirt over your head in one smooth motion. his gaze snapped down, mouth falling open, his hands automatically reaching for you.

then you hooked your thumbs into your shorts and slid them down, tossing them aside until you were straddling him in nothing but your underwear, bare skin burning against his jeans.

steve’s breath stuttered, eyes wide and glassy. “holy fuck.”

you pushed against his chest until he leaned back, then set to work on him—fingers at the hem of his polo, tugging it up, exposing a line of hair trailing down his stomach. you kissed your way down that path until you were crouched between his thighs, his eyes huge as he watched you.

your mouth pressed over the bulge in his jeans, warm and wet through the fabric. steve jolted, a strangled noise breaking out of him.

“shit—oh my god.”

you grinned against him, then pulled back just enough to breathe the words. “you know… i heard rumors about how big your cock was back then.” your fingers dragged down the button fly, teasing. “didn’t think they were true.”

you yanked his jeans down in one swift move, the denim peeling from his thighs until he was left in nothing but his straining briefs, the outline of him obvious and obscene.

his face burned crimson, a helpless groan spilling out when your nails skimmed the waistband.

you only kissed the bulge once more—soft, taunting—before climbing back up his lap, settling on him again with your chest pressed to his, your smirk inches from his mouth.

“guess i was wrong,” you whispered.

his cock sprang free, heavy and flushed, pressing hot against your stomach as you settled back onto his lap.

he groaned the second you shifted over him, the sound guttural, his head falling back against the wall.

you reached between your bodies, wrapping your fingers around him, stroking slow as you rocked against him. his cock slid against your bare skin, the head smearing precum over your belly, and the sight of it—thick and desperate against you—made your grin wicked.

his chest heaved, a broken whimper catching in his throat.

you leaned close, lips brushing his ear. “fuck, stevie… you’re so hard for me. just from me sitting on your lap like this?”

he groaned again, hips jerking up into your fist.

“you wanna know how many times i fantasized about this?” you whispered, teeth grazing his earlobe. “every time you walked by, every time yoi smiled at me—wanted you to bend right me over. make a mess of me. now look who’s getting used.”

“god—fuck,” he gasped, his hand clutching your ass, nails biting into your skin.

you stroked him harder, dragging his cock along the slick heat between your thighs without letting him inside. “you’re pathetic for it, you know that?”

his moan was strangled, desperate, head tilting back as if the words alone were undoing him.

“all mine to play with tonight,” you taunted, licking into his mouth when he pulled you down to kiss him, your fist still working his cock between your bodies.

after a few more sticky strokes— you guided him to your entrance with a lazy drag of your fist, the leaky head of his cock slipping between your folds. he hissed through his teeth, every muscle in his body going tight as you slicked him up with the wet spill of your pussy.

“baby, jesus christ—” steve groaned, voice rough and shaky.

you only smiled, tilting your hips to tease the head against your clit before sinking down, slow, until the thick stretch of him worked you open inch by inch.

“oh, fuck—oh my god,” he gasped, head thumping back against the wall. his hands flexed on your waist like he didn’t know whether to hold you steady or pull you down harder.

you took your time, sliding lower until he was seated deep inside you, your walls fluttering around the heavy pulse of his cock. the twitching was immediate—his whole body shuddering, cock jerking inside you like he couldn’t handle the heat of it.

“so fucking tight,” he babbled, cheeks flushed bright red, eyes squeezed shut as if that would keep him from embarrassing himself further. “oh my god, it’s.. fuck—it’s been so long, you don’t..”

you leaned forward, fingers tangling in his hair again, tugging until his eyes snapped open, glassy and wild.

“so long?” you echoed, rocking your hips slow, letting him feel every inch drag through your dripping cunt. “you mean no one’s fucked you in a while, stevie?”

he moaned, pitiful and sweet, bucking up into you without rhythm. “n-not. not like this, not.. oh, god—feels too good—fuck, i can’t.”

you smirked, rolling your hips again, grinding down so your clit rubbed against his pelvis. “poor baby. all washed up, delivering pizzas, and you still get lucky enough to end up under me.”

his breath hitched, chest heaving as he tried to keep up with the pace you set, hands shaking against your ass.

“yeah,” you whispered in his ear, squeezing tight around him just to hear him gasp. “you’re lucky. so fucking lucky i’ve wanted this cock for years.”

he whined, high and wrecked, the sound tearing out of his throat before he could swallow it down.

your smirk only widened as you snapped your hips down harder, your pussy clapping wetly against him. the obscene sound filled the room, mixing with his gasps, his moans, his stuttered curses.

“fuck, fuck, fuck..” steve babbled, hands flying up to grip your hips like he couldn’t stop himself, like he had to hold on or drown. his nails dug in deep, but it didn’t slow you—only spurred you on, bouncing rougher in his lap until your wetness coated his thighs.

“oh my god.” his voice broke, forehead dropping to your chest. “too good—too fucking good.”

you tangled a hand in his hair again, jerking his head back so you could watch his face. his cheeks were flushed scarlet, sweat glistening at his temples, mouth slack with the prettiest, most pathetic sounds spilling out.

“look at you,” you taunted, grinding down cruelly, milking every twitch of his cock inside you. “can’t even keep it together, huh? been so long since anyone touched you, now you’re about to lose it in five minutes.”

“no—fuck.. please, d-don’t stop.” he gasped, his hips jerking helplessly up into you.

you laughed, breathless but wicked, riding him harder, wetter. each thrust dragged the thick head of his cock against that spot inside you, and you let out a sharp moan, clutching at his shoulders for balance.

his eyes rolled back, his whole body trembling. “god, y-you’re soaking me—fuck, you’re so wet, i can feel it dripping.”

“that’s ‘cause i like it, stevie,” you whispered against his ear, clenching down hard around him. “like your cock splitting me open. always knew i would.”

he choked on a moan, babbling nonsense now—“oh god, oh my god, feels so good, don’t stop, please don’t stop”—as you bounced rougher in his lap, puffy cunt swallowing him down again and again until the bed creaked beneath you both.

“fuck—fuck, i can’t—” steve stammered, hips stuttering up into you. his cock twitched hard inside, pulsing thick, and you felt the warning shiver roll through his body. “gonna—god, i’m gonna cum.”

you slammed down on him harder, silencing his whimper with your own sharp gasp. your pussy clenched around him, wet and messy, but you didn’t stop—you couldn’t.

“yeah?” you panted, nails digging into his shoulders as you bounced, chasing the ache blooming hot and desperate between your legs. “gonna cum already? so fucking pitiful for me, stevie.”

“please,” he gasped, his voice cracking. his face twisted, red and wrecked, his fingers clutching your ass like a lifeline. “please, i can’t—”

you leaned down, lips brushing his ear as you ground against him mercilessly, dragging your clit over his pelvis again and again. “you’ll take it. you’ll cum for me and you’ll fucking stay hard ‘til i’m done. won’t you?”

his broken whine tore through the room, and then he was spilling, cock jerking deep inside you as hot spurts of cum filled your cunt. he cried out, thighs trembling beneath you, body shaking like he couldn’t take it.

but you didn’t stop.

you kept grinding, kept slamming down on him, using the sloppy wet slide of his cock and his cum spilling out of you to push yourself higher.

“oh, fuck—” you moaned, chasing it now, rolling your hips with ruthless precision. “god, steve—just like that—don’t you dare fucking go soft on me.”

he whimpered, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, his whole body shuddering under the overstimulation. “oh my god—please, please.. baby. it’s so much.”

“i don’t care,” you hissed, clenching down hard, cunt milking every twitch of his cock. “you’re gonna make me cum, stevie. gonna fucking ruin me like you should’ve years ago.”

the words broke into a cry as it hit you, pleasure tearing through your stomach, your thighs quaking as you ground down one last desperate time. your pussy fluttered around him, soaking him, squeezing every last drop out of his overstimulated cock until your vision blurred.

you collapsed against his chest, gasping, the both of you drenched in sweat and slick. his heart pounded wild under your cheek, and his cock twitched weakly inside you, still stuffed full.

both of you panting like you’d just run a marathon, sweat cooling on your skin, his chest heaving against yours.

steve was trembling, muscles shot, arms wrapped weakly around your back like he was afraid you’d slip away if he let go.

“holy shit,” he whispered, voice shredded. his head tipped back against the wall, eyes squeezed shut, hair sticking to his damp forehead. “i think you just… fucking killed me.”

you smirked against his throat, kissing the slick skin there. “don’t be dramatic, harrington. you’re still breathing.”

he let out a shaky laugh, the sound half broken, half relieved, like he couldn’t believe it actually happened. his cock twitched feebly inside you, overstimulated and leaking, but you didn’t move. you liked the feel of him there, the way his whole body still reacted to you even when he was wrung out.

“you’re insane,” he mumbled, but his hands slid up your spine like he never wanted you to get off him.

you just hummed, smug and satisfied, and let your cheek rest against his chest.

and that’s when it hit—an eruption of noise from the hall. shrieking, howling, laughter bubbling like champagne. someone’s voice loud and slurred—“shotgunnnnnnnnn!” followed by another round of cheers and stomping feet.

you giggled, breathless and glowing. “guess the party finally made it back here.”

steve groaned, dragging a hand over his face, still flushed bright red. “oh my god. i haven’t done a walk of shame in ages.”

you tipped his chin up with a finger, kissed his swollen mouth soft and taunting. “they’re gonna be pleased to see it.”

warnings: smut (18+ mdni), sub!steve, edging, use of a sex toy, praise, some humiliation if you squint

wc: 1.4k

youre sprawled against steves bed, while steves rummaging through his dresser looking for a clean shirt. youre absentmindedly fidgeting with your chapstick. you apply some onto your lips, and when you move to put it back in your pocket, it fumbles out of your grasp and falls onto the floor, rolling under steves bed. you groan in annoyance, before kneeling down onto the floor, lifting his comforter to glance into the dim space beneath. as youre looking for your missing chapstick, your gaze catches onto something else.

your jaw drops.

a very poorly hidden fleshlight.

“...steven,” you call out

he finally finds a shirt and tosses it on, but his eyebrows raise. he cant help but feel like hes in trouble.

his heart practically falls out of his ass when he turns around and sees you standing with his fleshlight in your hand. that was the last thing he was expecting to see. hell, he even forgot he had owned that.

“ohfuck baby i swear. its not what it looks like!” he sputters over his words, “i had that before we even started dating, havent used it in forever,” hes quick to defend himself, worried youll be pissed at him.

“steve,” you giggle, “im not mad.”

“youre not?” the tension in his body eases, slightly, relieved to know you're not upset with him, but it doesnt help with the embarrassment at all.

“no, of course not, i swear,” you smile.

theres a beat of silence, steve buries his face into his hands. this is so humiliating for him.

“can i use it on you?” you ask, grinning

steves heart drops. did he hear that correctly? “wait what–? use it on me? you wanna use it on me?”

“yeah,” you shrug, “can i?”

he can feel his breath catch in his throat, “you want to?”

“please?”

“yeah.. yeah, you can use it on me,” he nods slowly

“sit down on the bed, baby,” you gently instruct him

he immediately obeys, and sits on the edge of his bed. hes tense, and you can tell. well to be fair, its not everyday where your girlfriend finds a sex toy underneath your bed. you stand in front of him, and he looks up at you with helpless eyes.

“relax baby, gonna take care of you,” you rub his chest.

you sit beside him, starting to kiss and nip at his neck. hes a sucker for neck kisses, it always gets him going. he immediately relaxes and melts at your touch. “fuck,” he breathes out, shutting his eyes and tilting his head back, allowing you more access to kiss the sensitive skin on his neck.

hes already palming himself over his grey sweats, his hips instinctively buck into his own grasp, desperate for friction. “god, you make me feel so good,” he groans. he tugs his sweats and boxers off, bringing them down to his thigh. his cock is already fully hard and it gently smacks against his clothed stomach, smearing some pre-cum onto the fabric.

steve looks down at his length, realizing how desperate and needy he already is. hes not used to it being this way, typically hes the one in charge, but right now, hes completely at your mercy.

“please baby, need you to touch me,” he mumbles, looking at you through hooded eyes.

“yeah stevie? want me to use your toy on you?”

“please? i need you so bad,” his tone growing more needy and impatient.

you move the fleshlight and hover it over his tip, just so that its barely making contact. he bites his lip hard, trying his best to stifle a moan, but hes failing miserably.

“fuck,” he gasps, “mama, dont tease me like that,” his eyes are glossy and wanting.

you shush him gently, “cmon stevie, be good. take what i give you.”

“im- im good, just put it on me, ill be good please,” he groans, hands fisting the sheets beneath him.

you slowly move the hunk of plastic onto his length, but just around the tip. steve whimpers and his body trembles at the act. his breath comes in short desperate pants and his face is completely flushed.

“please,” he moans, “dont tease me, you know i cant take it.”

you smirk at him and finally give in, you roll the fleshlight fully onto his length. steve practically yelps and his hips jerk up as the material finally engulfs him completely.

“ohfuck,” he whines, “‘s so good.”

“there we go, stevie,” you have a sly grin on your face, as you slowly roll the toy up and down his length.

“just like that– please dont stop. need more,” he bucks his hips into the toy.

he tips his head back as you move excruciatingly slow against him. you take the opportunity to kiss on his neck once more, his body is shaking and trembling with each touch from you, its electric. the torturous drag of the fleshlight is making him spiral. hes so pathetically needy, hes already close just from this.

“baby, ‘m gonna cum–” hes cut off with a gasp as you suddenly change the pace at which your moving.

“ohfuck, oh my god,” a string of moans leave his mouth, his thighs start shudder and his adams apple starts bobbing.

you can tell hes about to cum, and right when hes at the brink of his orgasm, you pull the fleshlight off of him.

steve groans at the loss of contact and bucks his hips up into nothing, desperately chasing some source of friction .

“fuck,” he whines, “babyplease,” his words slur together and he looks at you with his big, hazel eyes, “dont be mean.”

“yeah baby? you wanna cum?” you ask rhetorically, and he squeezes his eyes shut, nodding desperately.

“god, fuck, please mama,” he begs, his cock twitching in desparation.

you put the toy back on him, sinking the fleshlight against him slowly and deliberately. steve groans, his eyes roll to the back of his head and his breathing goes ragged.

“does it feel good, stevie?” you tilt your head at him

“mhmhm, so fucking good,” he nods eagerly, his hands are grasping the sheets so hard, doing everything in his power not to buck his hips up into the toy to show you that hes good, grateful for what you give him.

“mhm?” you halt your movements, “better than my pussy?”

“n-no!” his brain short circuits, “nothings better than your pussy.”

“good answer,” you start to pump the fleshlight against him at a faster pace

“thankyou,” he whines looking up at you.

“mhm, so good baby,” you praise him, leaning in for a soft kiss. he struggles to kiss you back, his mouth often falling agape, whimpering against your lips.

“faster mama, please,” he mutters helplessly.

“you want me to go faster? so desperate for a piece of plastic, hm?” you taunt him, “thought my pussy was better?”

“no! fuck, i mean yes b-but no,” he stutters, “please baby, i need it so bad. it hurts,” he cries out.

“you wanna cum? wanna cum in this plastic pussy so bad?” you offer him a faux pout

“pleasebaby, please let me cum. ill be so good i swear,” he pleads.

you abide, moving the toy even faster up and down his length. his chest heaves and he looks down, shutting his eyes. with your free hand, you gently tug his hair back, so you can suck on the sensitive skin of his neck. you move up to bite on his earlobe, whispering praises in his ear. steves body has completely succumbed to the pleasure, hes too lost to even think at this point. all he knows is to show how good he is for you.

“fuck, please tell me i can cum, ‘m so close,” his voice trembles as he begs.

“you can cum, baby. youre so good.”

steve completely breaks. his entire body locks, his hips jerk up as the pleasure wracks through him. hes a mess beneath you, his legs are shaking, and hes groaning loudly. you praise him as you slowly stroke the toy to help him ride out his orgasm. it is isnt long before he gets squirmy and sensitive.

“baby,” his breath comes in short ragged gasps, “no more, cant take it. ‘s too good. too sensitive,” hes shuddering beneath you, the fleshlight is messy. his cum leaking out of the base as he pants helplessly.

“please, no more mama,” he whispers

you slowly remove the toy, and he hisses as it comes off his length, his body twitching at the loss of contact. he throws himself back on the bed, and you lay with him.

months late... forgeev me <3 i had mucho fun with sub steve as i always do :D 2.1k, gn!reader, handjobs, sub!steve MDNI this entire blog is 18+

The spray of the outside shower is nowhere near as cold as the ocean.

In fact, the water in the pipes has been slowly heating all day, so it's rather warm when starts trickling out. It could barely be considered a sprinkle though, much less a shower.

You look up at the shower head, a tad corroded from weathering the outdoors, then shift your gaze to Steve. You silently raise an eyebrow.

"It'll work," He dismisses you with a wave of his hand, focus fixed on the shower head. "It always works."

It probably shouldn’t—like the rest of the house, one of Steve's parents' beach getaways, it's ancient.

Yet, against all odds, the showers splutters and then miraculously turns on.

Steve turns to you with a far too cocky grin. "What'd I tell you?"

pairing: steve harrington x reader

contains: sub/bottom!steve; gender unspecified reader; reader has a vagina and breasts; teasing; bit of mean!reader; desperation; begging; a HINT of puppy play; steve cums twice!!; unprotected piv; dirty talk; praise; some degradation/humiliation; steve big cock harrington (so painful sex for a split sec); breeding kink (also just a mention); some aftercare :)

a note from the author: i hope you guys like!!! a rare sub!steve treat for you on this spring evening 🫶🏻

You lean in. You pull back. Steve tries to chase you.

You lean in again. Steve’s close to winning, but you pull back just in time, his lips hardly brushing against yours.

His eyes narrow at you, frustration evident. You smile, eyes hooded.

Warnings :

Sub!Steve, praise, degradation, handjob, choking, begging, cum eating, pet names (puppy, mommy, baby), blackfemreader in mind but u can still read.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀ He was staring down at you with the most precious look in his eyes, just like a cute puppy.

"If you want something you have to ask for it baby, you know I don't give free handouts." You chuckled at the little whimper he let out while his hands danced around your cute white tank top.

His shift had ended quite early and he wanted to see you, he needed to see you. You were just too pretty, your hair, nails, outfits. Especially your smell, you smelt so good all the time it always engulfed him when he was near.

"You're so pretty," He mumbled with a blush on his cheeks, always so nervous when he spoke to you, "Speak clearly for mommy baby, don't be shy. It's just me."

A raspy nervous laugh left his lips, "That's the issue, it's you. I'm sorry though, m-mommy. You're so pretty."

Steve just had to be the cutest, made you want to bite. You were lying on his bed in your little tank along with the cutest denim shorts.

"Such a good boy for me, you just look so cute in your little uniform puppy," You motioned him to come closer, not forgetting him tripping a little over his own feet, "You like when I call you cute names?"

"Mhmm, I-I really fucking do mommy." Your freshly manicured hands slowly traced the bottom hem of his top, feeling the breath he took in when he felt the warmth of ur hands radiating onto his cold skin.

You lifted his shirt up halfway and pressed a kiss below his belly button, wallowing in the soft moan he let out, he sounded so cute you wanted to hear more. Your soft hand traced its way towards his nipple, pinching and twisting, while your other held his hips in place.

Steve was such a sweetie, but he was a brat with his nonstop moving while you wanted to play.

"Mmm fuck, fuck please.. please k-keep going," It was so much fun decorating his lower tummy with love marks. He wanted to see you so he pulled his shirt over your head, the look your eyes had to them was so flirtatious he couldn't get enough.

The way your hand was pressed into his hip made his body feel so warm and tingly, his cock was aching.

Your lips popped off him right when you got to the top of his shorts, the feeling of your lips on him and your fingers abusing his nipple then just disappearing was making him whine. Poor Steve gave you the puppy eyes while mumbling a small, "I need it mommy."

The way your eyes shifted to him when you heard that, caused his cock to twitch right in front of your face.

"How horny are you for mommy?" A frown appeared on his face, you knew how horny he was for you, you could see it. Steve cleared his throat before attempting to speak, "S.. So much mommy, gonna cum untouched here. Please?"

"Right now? Why don't you do that for me then?" His eyes widened, and Steve ran his fingers through his hair to try and cool his body temperature, he was so hot, "Know I'm only kidding mommy, need to be touched pleasee.. please, fuck."

A giggle left your plump lips and all he could think about was how they were puffy from leaving kisses on him. "So pretty mommy." Your head tilted and you grabbed him by his hips to push him closer in between your spread legs.

"You know you look so cute in this little work outfit baby?" He was looking down, watching you and your pretty features, "This outfit makes me look like a little dork, don't lie." While pursing your lips you squinted your eyes at him causing a look of slight fear to come across his face.

"I'm sorry baby, It does m-make me look so cute." Your smile returned and so did his, he was just trained so well, "Sure it does! And it's only for the summer puppy don't worry."

"I won't mommy, f-fuck, mm can you please touch me, please?" Steve was always one to beg, he loved begging if it made you happy, and oh did it make you very happy.

You motioned for him to take his shirt off, relishing in the way one of his nipples were puffier than the other, he was so cute. His cock was almost straight out of his shorts when you slowly grabbed both sides of them and pulled down.

"Fuck fuck oh my god mommy." The cold air was so different to the warmth he had going on.

You never got over how big his cock really is.

"Spit, go on." You liked making him do things, and of course he'd do whatever you liked, so making him spit on his own cock was very amusing. Sometimes when he got too dumb before touching he'd miss.

You scooted back a bit on the bed so he could lean a bit forward, he wanted to press kisses along your pretty neck. His eyes caught a glimpse of the S necklace he gifted you and it just made his body heat rise.

"You're so warm baby, so eager for mommy," All he could do was nod and mumble "Mhm." through kisses. Your hand didn't fit all the way around his cock but it was a good enough amount, you started from the tip which caused him to shiver and then slowly extended down to the base.

"Holy fuck mommy, Feels so so fucking good, mmfuck."

You always stroked so fast, almost too fast for him but he would take whatever If it was given by you.

"You like being a good little puppy for mommy don't you baby?" Your grip on his cock got tighter and the speed increased as his moans got louder, it was so addicting to hear him. The spit mixing with his pre cum was making him so wet.

"Yes! Mhm mommy, I re.. shit, reallyy do," He loved the way you touched him, it felt so good he couldn't keep up with his little smooches, "You're so wet for me Stevee, such a cute good boy."

"Mm mm mommy please, fuck, I-If you keep talking like that I'm gonna cum for you." You kept your harsh movements on his cock, feeling his breathing rise heavily in sync with your actions. Your other hand rested in his hair, tugging harshly and massaging softly.

"Godd, ple—fuck gonna cumm, mommy pleaseplease." He was shaking, so cute for his mommy.

"You wanna be a good little whore for mommy and cum?" You pulled his head back from you with his hair and you could hear the raspy groan exiting him, "Yes mommy, please let me be a good whore for you. Won't cum until you fucking say, I promise. Just can you let me, please."

"Mmm, Hm I don't know baby," A pout quickly appeared on his flushed face, "Don't do that mommy, Im b-begging here," You liked acting dumb, it was fun to deny while still touching him all over, "So? Who are you begging for baby?"

Seconds before words spilled out of his lips, your hand crept its way to wrap around his neck, squeezing. He lovedd being choked, the way it felt to have his air be restricted, and by someone he was so obsessed with was so tantalizing.

He wanted you so bad, "J-Just for you mommy, fuck—god im so close mmmommy, pleaseee."

"You know I like when you're like this, so needy and desperate. Should mommy keep you on the edge like this? All dumb and waiting like a whore?"

"Mmnggh, fuck oh m—g-god."

"Please mommy, it's s'good. Pleasee I wanna cum so bad I can feel it baby."

You stopped squeezing to press your thumb against the bottom of his puffy lips, he had been biting them to keep all his sounds at bay, clearly wasn't working. A low groan escaped him, he was so on edge.

While speeding up your pace even more, you inquired, "You wanna cum puppy?"

"Yess fuuck mmm, just for mommy. Want you so bad, I need to touch you mommy." Steve knows how to keep his hands to himself when you want and only touches when you tell him to, but he's just so needy.

"You can only cum if you're a good boy for mommy," A gasp escaped from his lips, fuck he was about to cum, "Im such a-a good boy for my m-mommy."

So you gave him a nod but he held off, wanting a verbal response from you. Words just sounded so nice coming from your mouth, "Mommy says you can cum for me baby."

The knot tied in his stomach released and he felt an enormous amount of warmth engulf him entirely. He adored cumming for you, made his head fuzzy and his cock twitch.

"Than—fuck, fuckk mm I'm cumming for you mommy, p-promise." His hands were fisted on either side of you, god he felt so good.

He squeezed his eyes shut and it felt like you were speeding up as his hips stuttered closer to you.

Steve was humping the air while his cum spurted out onto your tank top, completely covering it, "Holy s-shit, mommy I'm still cumming," He whimpered out while you kept stroking his cock, milking him until he was empty.

He always felt so sensitive right after, his legs trembling as you continued to stroke him. He always took it and would never push you away, but he still begs you to stop.

"Mm, f-fuck please no more." You didn't look at him, you just continued stroking with his cum all over your hand. There was something so hot with the way he was so disheveled and you were so put together, along with all your clothes on.

"Oh god—Ohfuckk nngh, please."

"Pleasee stop mommy, too much. S-stop, mmphfuck, holy sh-shit." You stopped, not without pressing a kiss to his cute tip though. He let out a soft groan, eliciting a giggle from you.

"My cute little baby did so well for his mommy didn't you? Cmon tell me."

"D-Did so good for you mommy, love you," You waved your coated fingers in front of his face, "Not so done though are we?"

Of course your puppy knew what to do, sucking your fingers dry while licking up all his cum. He loved to look directly into your eyes too while he did it, Steve was such a whore. Those big eyes, would get whatever they wanted.

"God you're such a little slut for me, you do whatever I ask." He gave you a cheeky smile, gesturing to the leftover cum on your tank top, 'Wow, you really are so fucking whorish."

A little moan fell from his lips, he was such a slut for being degraded.

You dropped your fingers from his lips and picked up the rest, opening his mouth yourself and stuffing your fingers down his throat, you liked when he was made useful.

"I love you too cutie, you did such a good job for mommy." You pulled your tank top off, just leaving you in your black and white polka dot laced bra along with your denim shorts.

You looked so edible, fuck. You were making Steve so hard again for you.

"Wanna fuck you, can I? Please?" Steve had both hands on either side of you, gripping the comforter. He was itching to have you.

"Mmm, you gonna be a good slut for mommy and do what I want?" He nodded but quickly realized from your facial expression that he was being bad already, "Yes, fuck mhm mommy."

You leaned back on your elbows while still taking his whole image in, such cute boy for you.

"Take off mommy's shorts. Now puppy, cmon don't be so slow. Don't you want me?"

Steve Rogers x fem!reader

Summary: Tomorrow, Steve would undergo the experiment that'd turn him into a supersoldier. You knew just how to calm his nerves.

Warnings: Smut, sub!Steve, preserum!Steve, slight praise kink, Steve doesn't think he deserves your love but he does, oral (m receiving), overstimulation

Note: a lil bit of preserum steve😝 Second post in one week??? I am on a roll (translation: I have been super duper horny lately and I need to get it out of my system somehow)

Warnings: Anal. Sub/dom dynamics. Anal fingering. Tying up mentioned. Dirty talk. Sub!steve. Eating ass. Eddie is gay. word count: 2.2k

It all started with a trip to the gas station. You both went in to get some treats to sneak into the movie theater. 

As you were leaving though, you both saw this tall lanky man looking at the All In magazine. The front cover was a picture of a man tied up on the front with red rope. Just enough nudity to understand what the magazine was actually about. 

When you look up at Steve and see him looking as well, you have that amused look on your face. “We should try that some time.” 

“What, rope? I’ll tie you up anytime baby.” 

“No, not the rope.”

And that’s when Steve’s brain short circuited. Because the All In magazine was mostly targeted to gays. Hence the name. 

Chapter Title: Stars and Straddles

(WARNINGS! : p in v, mean!reader, Sub!Steve, Steve cusses 🫢, creampie)

(Female anatomy-)

Safehouse, Somewhere in Eastern Europe

The door slammed shut behind you, the echo vibrating through the crumbling concrete like a warning shot. You threw your pack on the dusty floor and glared at Steve, sweat still glistening along your collarbone, your shirt sticking to your skin from the sprint through god-knows-what kind of terrain.

“You just had to play hero, huh?” you snapped, voice still rough from adrenaline.

Steve didn’t even look at you at first. He stalked across the room, ripped off his gloves, and tossed them onto the cot like they were the problem. “We were exposed. I covered our exit.”

“You got shot at. I saw you get clipped.” You stormed toward him, the thin tension between you growing sharper, tighter. “You always do this—you push and push like you’re made of steel and not flesh, and one day it’s gonna get you killed, Steve!”

“I’m fine,” he ground out. “It wasn’t serious.”

“Bullshit.”

Your fingers found the zipper of his suit before he could protest, yanking it down halfway with one rough pull. His chest rose sharply, the ridged armor splitting open just enough to reveal the damp stretch of fabric clinging to his pecs. You jabbed a finger into his side—just above the small tear soaked through with red.

He winced.

“See?” you hissed, voice wobbling under the fury. “You’re not fine.”

“You were in danger,” he shot back. “I did what I had to.”

That was the final matchstick.

“You always act like you’re the only one allowed to bleed.”

And then you kissed him.

Hard. Too hard. It wasn’t sweet or tender. It was teeth and frustration, mouths clashing like fists, and when Steve kissed you back—it was with that same battle-worn fury. He gripped your waist like a lifeline, slamming your body into his as your hands shoved his suit the rest of the way off his shoulders, letting it fall like dead weight onto the floor.

The cot creaked as he collapsed backward onto it, dragging you with him. Your legs straddled his hips instinctively, the tension snapping like a cable cut clean in half. You were panting, chest heaving, hovering above him with nothing but fire in your eyes.

Steve looked up at you—cheeks flushed, hair a mess, and chest rising like a man starved of oxygen. “This—this is a bad idea,” he stammered.

You just ground your hips down over the swell of his cock, watching the way his breath caught mid-sentence. “Then tell me to stop.”

His mouth opened—and nothing came out. Just a whimper.

“Didn’t think so.”

You tore open your own gear with a few practiced motions, pulling your pants low enough to sink down and press your slick folds against the strained front of his boxers. The fabric was damp already, soaked through from the mix of sweat and precome, and when you rolled your hips slowly, Steve choked.

“I’ve thought about this,” you murmured, your hands planted firmly on his chest. “Since that first sparring match. You remember it, don’t you?”

His eyes fluttered.

“You had me pinned,” you continued, dragging your core down the length of his cock through the fabric. “But I could’ve flipped you. I let you have it.”

He whimpered again, hands tightening on your thighs like he was holding onto sanity itself.

“And now?” you asked, grinding again. “Now I get to ride you till you forget your own name.”

When you pushed his boxers down, his cock slapped up against his abs, flushed red and leaking. You watched his throat bob as he swallowed hard, one hand drifting up to cover his eyes in some desperate attempt to maintain control.

You didn’t let him.

“None of that,” you whispered, gripping his wrist and pinning it to the cot above his head. “I wanna see you fall apart.”

Then you sank down.

His whole body arched, back bowing off the mattress, fingers curling into the thin sheets like he was being electrocuted from the inside out. “F-fuck—oh, God, I—”

“Shhh,” you cooed, cupping his cheek as you began to roll your hips in slow, devastating circles. “That’s not your job right now.”

He blinked up at you, already gone glassy-eyed and helpless.

“Your job,” you whispered, tightening around him, “is to sit still and take it.”

He moaned—full-bodied and raw, like it was being torn out of his lungs. His thighs jerked under you, involuntary, like his own body was trying to escape the sheer force of sensation. But you kept going, slow and punishing, watching the sweat bead on his chest and his bottom lip tremble.

You leaned down, brushing your lips against the shell of his ear. “You’re so fuckin’ loud, Captain,” you whispered. “Is that what the serum did to you? Made you sensitive? Can’t even take a little pussy without going dumb?”

He sobbed—a choked, desperate sound as you clenched down around him mid-grind. You pulled back just enough to see his face.

Eyes crossed. Jaw slack. A little trail of spit glistening on his lip.

“You are so fucked,” you purred. “I’m never letting you live this down.”

He shook his head weakly, but you could see it—how close he was. How hard he was fighting it.

“Gonna fill me up, baby?” you taunted, moving faster now, snapping your hips down harder and rougher with each thrust. “That what you want? Fill me with your Captain America cum like a good boy?”

His body twitched hard.

“Oh, you’re close,” you gasped, riding him with abandon now, your thighs burning, your nails dragging down his chest. “C’mon, Stevie. Fuckin’ give it to me.”

He broke.

With a high, strangled cry, his hips surged up—once, twice—before he came, hard, cock pulsing inside you as his back arched and he shook beneath you like something had snapped. You didn’t stop. You rode him through it, milking every spasm, every twitch, every pitiful whimper until he was nearly sobbing with overstimulation, a ruined, shaking mess under your hands.

When you finally slowed, his chest was heaving like he’d run ten miles uphill in full armor. His eyes were glassy. His mouth hung open.

And his cock was still twitching inside you.

You leaned down, kissed his cheek, then whispered sweetly: