#august25

[warumichradfahre]

1.300 Kilometer Sommerglück - das war der August 2025

Ach, was war das für ein August! Zugegeben, wettertechnisch zu heiß und zu trocken – aber als Radfahrer sage ich da nur: wtf! Denn ganz ehrlich, Radfahren in der Sonne, mit einer mehr oder weniger frischen Brise im Gesicht, ist einfach das ultimative Sommerfeeling. Da kann ich gar nicht anders, als jede Tour zu genießen. Kilometermäßig war der Monat allerdings eher solide als spektakulär: knapp…

1.300 Kilometer Sommerglück - das war der August 2025

[stevenose]

star student (18+)

part of the august writing challenge

today’s word: novel

contents: gender unspecified reader; reader with a vagina and breasts; mean!professor!steve; grad student!reader; staying quiet while getting railed <3; slight degradation?

thought i would finish out this year’s challenge with a fic about something i don’t typically write. and it’s also all i could come up with for novel. so here u go!!! hope you enjoy :)

you’re shivering. the wooden table underneath you is cold against your hot skin. you’re bent over, pinned down by the man fucking himself into you slow and deep.

his weight presses you down, keeps you trapped while his fat cock stretches you. he’s on the phone, his voice as smooth as ever, with only a hint of a groan, like his dick isn’t buried inside of you.

whatever the call is, whoever he’s talking to, it’s important. steve — professor harrington — had told you to stay quiet. if you made any noise, you had failed his assignment.

and you always want to be his best student.

your entire focus is on two things: swallowing your pleasure and remembering to breathe. steve’s weight is heavy on you, and he’s hot. his attire doesn’t help - a white button up with a cashmere vest over it and scratchy tweed trousers. your legs shake, desperately trying to stay planted on the floor with every thrust he sends into you.

you’re biting back moans. he’s hitting you directly against your sweet spot. deliberately. knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

your professor keeps talking, something about a novel he had you read when preparing your thesis. his chest rumbles against your back with each word he says into the receiver.

“no, you’re not keeping me,” he says, burying himself all the way into you and rolling his hips. “i’m not doing anything important.”

your forehead falls against the wood. you’re shaking harder, nails clawing at the edge of his desk. you try your best, but the pressure in your lower stomach is building, your clit pulsing, neglected.

a little moan slips out.

steve’s hand slaps over your mouth.

“i have some papers that need graded, though, so i’d better get going.”

you hear the phone click back onto its mount and then steve’s attention is fully on you. he fucks you as fast and as hard as his antique desk can handle. more of an emphasis on the depth than the speed.

his fingers find your clit and you cry out, hips stuttering.

“you’re lucky it’s so late,” he pants into your ear. “you’d be getting me fired, hon.”

you keep moaning. you can’t stop.

“gotta say,” he continues with a tsk. “pretty disappointed in you.”

you whimper, brows furrowing.

“thought you were my star student,” he grunts, slowing his movements, grinding into you more than fucking. “thought you were being so good for me.”

you really hate how much this shit turns you on.

“please,” you say into his hand.

he sighs, seated all the way inside of you. he keeps you pinned, no where to run to.

“come on. make it up to me.”

[stevenose]

only shallow (18+)

part of the august writing challenge

today’s word: candy

contents: reader with a vagina; gender unspecified reader; getting eaten out from the back 😳; ri…rim….rimming…. (reader receiving); i guess maybe a little bit of perv!steve; ass play

to say you were caught off guard is a major understatement.

you knew you looked cute and you were absolutely goading steve into touching you. laying on your stomach on his bed, your hair still damp from the shower you took. tiny pajama bottoms on, so short that the curve where your ass meets your thighs shows.

it wasn’t a surprise when he slid over to you. pressing kisses into your neck and shoulders. telling you that you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever laid his eyes on.

his teeth catch on your skin as he trails kisses down your back. it tickles, makes you squirm. and then, finally, he pulls your pajama pants down.

you hear his breath hitch. you smile, smug. you don’t tease him, though. you’re having a bit of fun acting like he isn’t there while you stare absentmindedly at his television screen.

his lips find your ass. you perk up a little. you’re pretty sure he hasn’t done that before. and it feels really good, actually. his hot breath so close to your cunt, open mouthed kisses teasing what he’s going to do to your pussy. he bites into your cheek hard enough to make you whimper.

one thumb slides downwards to rub gentle circles into your clit. you sigh, your head falling forward.

his other hand grabs your hip and coaxes you up slightly, your back arching. you bite your lip. he hasn’t eaten you out from the back before, and it’s honestly a little weird, you think, but if he insists.

the hand on your hip moves back to your ass. he spreads you open, and you clench around nothing in anticipation.

“i’m going to do something.”

you laugh. “i hope so.”

he leans forward. you feel his breath fanning against you.

he does not go for your pussy. he goes straight for your ass.

you moan, feeling like the wind got knocked out of your lungs, immediately squirming.

steve’s grip is bruising. he won’t let you move.

“christ, steve!”

he moans, hot and wet tongue gliding up and down, coating your tight hole with his spit.

you’re too surprised to say anything else. but you keep moaning, the feeling so weird and so good and steve’s grunting about it. his thumb is still rubbing your clit, but dips down to feel your dripping pussy.

“has anyone ever done this to you before?” he asks lowly.

“what the fuck do you think?” you laugh breathlessly.

you want to ask him if he has, because this feels incredibly out of left field. yeah, he’s groped you, but you thought that was just to make you squeak. you open your mouth but nothing comes out except for another whine as the tip of his tongue circles your rim.

he eats you like you’re made of fucking candy.

he dips down. moves his thumb. licks a long stripe from your clit to your ass, tongue flat and wet. so goddamn wet.

you’re grinding against it, near tears.

“i haven’t, either,” he finally says, breath hot on you, voice rough. “just jerked off to it.”

“oh my god.” your voice is microscopic.

he spits on your rim, and you tighten up hard around nothing. the ache legitimately hurts.

you feel his thumb pressing in.

“holy fuck,” you gasp, squirming again.

“you know they have toys to help stretch you out back here?” you can hear him smiling, rubbing his thumb around it. “saw it once at an adult mart.”

“when the hell did you go to an adult — oh!”

you lurch forward, his thumb having slipped into your ass just a little. but it’s enough.

“long time ago.”

his tongue replaces his thumb, groaning loud when he does. the bed is moving.

“are you humping the bed?”

“mhm.”

“fucking fr— yes! oh my god. oh my god.”

he’s finally paying attention to your neglected pussy. his work on it is rough, passionate, sucking at your clit and lips and fucking his tongue into your hole. you instinctively reach back to wrap your hand in his hair and he moans, panting, grinding.

“you’re sick, harrington.”

“yeah?”

he licks back up to your ass and you react as you have been, crying out, hips jerking.

“i’m pretty sure you’re a freak, too.”

[stevenose]

show me how (18+)

part of the august writing challenge

today’s word: water

contents: high!reader, sober!steve; reader with breasts and a vagina; steve calls reader ‘good girl’ once; sexual tension; much teasing; protective steve my beloved….; reader calls steve dad in an antagonizing way!!; sort of mutual masturbation; casual dominance

steve’s kicking himself for not stopping you sooner. you smoked nearly an entire joint yourself before he noticed what you were doing. and when he groaned and took the rest of it from your hand, you rolled your hooded eyes, already blissful, sinking into his couch.

“you’ll just have to take care of me.”

he doesn’t particularly enjoy being a babysitter during his time off, but he supposes it’s fine if it’s you. though he’s certainly irritated at your impulses. he lets you lay on his lap, cozied up, happily giggling at a movie you made him put on. it’s not even a funny movie, but whatever.

it’s weird like this. you were usually both on the same level of stoned when you hung out. and two out of three of those times were spent fooling around and then acting like everything was normal in the morning.

now, steve’s too sober — he didn’t even have a single hit, too busy prepping snacks — and you’re too high.

and he doesn’t know what to do when you start nuzzling at his cock through his sweatpants. he just digs his blunt nails into the arm rest and tries to ignore you.

he should have known it wouldn’t work.

you shift so that you’re able to brush your nose up and down his hardening shaft. with a gasp, steve pushes you off, as gently as possible.

“water,” he says hoarsely. “you - let me get you water.”

he downs a glass himself before filling it for you. needs to buy time for his boner to fede, because you’ll definitely take that as an invitation.

it isn’t like steve doesn’t want to fuck you. it’s just that you’re really high. and he, regrettably, isn’t. and if he’s sober, not only does he have a responsibility to take care of you, but it also means admitting things to himself that he isn’t ready for.

coming back into his living room, he stops abruptly, staring wide-eyed at your naked body.

naked. stripped bare. even your bra has been torn off. you’re only in underwear that is way too small. steve can see every single outline of you through them, every curve and crevice and holy shit, he can see your pretty cunt hugging the fabric.

you smile at him. “i got hot.”

you say it in such a way that makes it known that you’re antagonizing him on purpose. and it’s really hard for steve to not rush at you and mouth at your perked up tits until you’re coming from it.

he inhales deeply, then walks to you. you’ve sat back down, your legs spread wide, your bottom lip between your teeth.

he hands you the glass. “drink.”

you hum. “i’m not thirsty.”

his voice cracks. “please drink.” because maybe if you do, you’ll sober up and snap out of it.

“no.”

steve sighs. his resolve is cracking and your pushing is not helping.

“drink.”

“you can’t tell me what to do, dad.”

his jaw clenches. he stares down at you while you’re smirking, body on display for him, so pretty and soft and plush and so fuckable it makes his head spin.

“yeah, you like that, don’t you?” you’re gleeful. “want to take care of me, dad?”

okay. he still can’t have you, so he’ll just add to the tension. something to touch himself to later when you’re tucked into the guest bedroom sheets, passed out and sleeping off the high.

a hand moves to your cheeks and squeezes them, his fingers prying at your jaw. steve brings the glass to your lips, keeping eye contact, tilting it.

“open.”

you do so instantly. your eyes are so beautiful when they’re hooded and glazed over and pink. steve stares, watching your throat bob with every swallow. he takes the glass away from you before you choke.

“good girl.”

your thighs clench. he smiles, feeling victorious.

“i need you,” you say quietly.

with one hand on his hip, his tongue pokes at the side of his cheek. thinking.

“you know i can’t.”

“yes, you can! you can, steve. look at me.”

you reach for his hands and pull them towards your breasts, but steve’s stronger than you. he pulls away, huffing.

“you can take care of it yourself. know you can.”

you shake your head in disbelief. “i need — you’re the only one that….”

“you can touch yourself, can’t you?” he asks. “i’ll even sit here and watch, honey. but i can’t touch you. i won’t.”

your pleading eyes morph into a glare. “fine.”

you lean back and reach down to touch yourself as instructed. but you make a show of it. spreading your lips, making steve see how slick they are, how sticky.

“see how tiny my hole is?” you whisper.

steve could pass out.

“needs stretched out, steve.”

“good thing you have fingers.”

“i hate you!”

“hey,” he snaps, shaking his head. “uh-uh. you don’t get to be mad at me because you smoked too much.”

“see? when you’re not high, we fight. let’s fix that.”

steve keeps getting distracted, your pussy staring at him square in the face, weeping and twitching for him. he swears he can smell it. he wants to taste it, fuck you with his tongue until you’re crying, and finish you off with his fingers. he thinks about how good you’d feel wrapped around his cock. the sweet noises you’d make. how your tongue would feel on his, breasts pressed against his chest while he holds you close and ruts himself all the way in.

“no can do,” he says, though his voice is strained. he can hardly hear himself speak over his rushing blood.

“whatever, steve.” you get up and stumble. steve grabs you, steadying you, but you push off of him. “but you won’t get to see.”

you torture him in the bathroom down the hall, moaning loudly. it’s clearly performative but it’s still so hot, and thinking of you fucking yourself makes steve’s cock hurt. so he pulls his jeans down just enough for him to stroke himself off to the sounds, the memory of your taste, the thought of your back arching and mouth open in ecstasy.

all the while, the rest of the joint coaxes him from the coffee table.

[stevenose]

say you will (18+)

part of the august writing challenge

today’s word: pearl

contents: gender unspecified reader; free use kink!!; oral (steve receiving); face fucking; a bit rough; a single use of the word ‘slut’ in steve’s inner monologue; shoe riding; friends with benefits type deal. this is truly porn without plot 🫶🏻

you kneel before him, all done up, even though he had only given you a twenty minute warning that he was on his way. and even though you definitely did not need to. steve would have you in the middle of the night when your hair is a mess and your eyes are crusty.

good idea. maybe he will have you like that.

steve had a bad day. perhaps even a failure of a day. and you picked up when he called, and you laughed in a very sultry sort of way when he asked to come over, so he basically floored it all the way to your place.

the ‘free use’ thing was difficult for him to get the hang of, especially when it wasn’t really his idea in the first place. but he’s been going through a dry spell, and he told you on a whim that he was very pent up, and you offered. any time, any day, whenever he wants. just ask.

now his dick is out, hard, a pearl of precum sitting pretty on his tip. he feels stupid for even asking you to help him out, but you seemed more than happy. even though he’s certainly grumpy, bitchy, somewhere between angry and frustrated.

“listen,” he says, then gasps when you wrap your hand around his shaft. “listen. i — i’m feeling — well, i don’t want to hurt you.”

and somehow, you’re laughing again. looking up at him through pretty lashes. he’s taken aback by how little you seem to care.

“go ahead and hurt me, steve,” you say, leaning forward to press a kiss to the tip of his cock, swiping away the pre. “think it would be hot.”

“are you insane?” he asks, hushed. his dick totally just twitched.

“if you want to fuck my throat, i won’t say no. i like to get off, too.”

steve blinks. “you’d get off from that?”

“jesus, steve, just take what you need. that’s the whole point, remember?”

he grits his teeth, jaw locked. doesn’t quite like your attitude.

“oh, am i making you mad?” you ask, stroking him slowly, up and down. your eye contact is intense and makes steve’s vision blur around the edges. “am i pushing your buttons, steve?”

“don’t,” he warns.

you smile, evil. teeth glistening. “if you want me to suck you off, you’re going to have to make me.”

well, you asked for it.

steve’s big hands move towards your head. he grips your skull, one hand wrapping into your hair, and he hesitates for a second.

your smile widens.

he pulls you forward, groaning as your mouth envelopes his length. so fucking hot, so wet. so goddamn good. steve usually isn’t the kind of guy who gets head. you’re probably the only person he’s ever slept with that likes to do it.

like isn’t a good word. love is more accurate.

you take him like a champ. gagging at first, because steve is taking what he wants, which is the very back of your throat. but you adapt soon enough, drooling on him, choking on him, eyes rolling back.

“jesus,” he mumbles lowly.

because you look like a slut. and it’s not something steve has ever considered you to be. you’re so soft and quiet and kind unless he wants you, and then you turn into someone else entirely. it makes his head spin and his knees weak.

you moan around him.

he has been plunging your head down, bobbing your throat on his cock, but he plants his feet and pulls you off of him, shivering at your fucked out expression.

“hi.” your voice is hoarse, your eyes tearful, and he knows you’re feeling euphoric.

“are you sure?” he pants.

you nod so quickly that he doesn’t hesitate this time. pulls you back down onto him, adjusts his feet, then ruts up into you.

you both moan. the wet, gross noises of your throat has steve moaning, fucking all of his rage into your sweet little head. when he looks at you, he can’t tell if you’ve corrupted him or if he’s corrupted you.

but you are a sight to behold. you force your eyes upwards to look at him, making them roll back. tear tracks make their way down your cheeks. your lips are swollen as they’re stretched around him, and you feel hot to the touch.

“here,” steve strains, pausing temporarily, keeping your head pushed down. he moves a foot towards you and places it under your pussy. “use it.”

it’s a little hard to fuck into your mouth and keep one foot tilted for you to ride it, but it’s all divine. your moans, the way your underwear glides across the canvas, the whines that sneak out of you when he pulls out before bullying his way back in.

“only fuckin’ good thing about today,” he groans, his hand twisting harshly in your hair. he throws his head back, chest and face red. “love using you, shit.”

you fight against his grip and he instantly releases you, feeling like a monster.

but you just mouth at him, blissed out, your eyes shining. kissing his cock like you’re kissing him.

“love being used by you,” you moan. “keep doing it, please keep doing it, i want you so badly.”

that’s all he needs to hear before he’s bringing you back down onto him.

now he has to decide if he’s coming down your throat or on your face.

[stevenose]

sparks (18+)

part of the august writing challenge

today’s word: video

contents: gender unspecified reader; reader with a vagina and breasts; camboy!steve of don’t delete the kisses fame!!!; boyfriend!steve; fingering (reader receiving); dirty talk; p…pussy spanking….; steve keeping you open and on display to record content for his site <3

You haven’t ever been so on display before, but it isn’t your first time being recorded. Steve does his usual spiel to you about how you don’t have to, that you can make any edits you want to it, that he’ll give you every last cent he makes from the video. And you let him, even though you already know what he’ll say and that all of it is true.

But this was a new position. Your face is still out of the frame, as usual, but so is Steve’s. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed with you in his lap, legs spread wide, forcing yours apart.

“I love you,” he whispers into your neck, kissing your sensitive skin.

One hand wanders over your naked body, from your thighs to your lower stomach to your tits. The other hand rests dangerously close to your pussy, close enough to your core that you ache.

“Let’s see what we have here, huh?” he muses, finally moving to touch you.

Steve’s slow with it. Unfairly so. But you know it’s content, that people prefer the anticipation, and you honestly do, too. His fingertips gently trace up and down your folds, feeling only for himself how wet you are. But then he spreads them apart with his index and ring finger, showing you arousal off to the camera.

“All this for me?” he asks.

You nod, then remember you have to talk. “All for you.”

Steve hums and slides his middle finger inwards. He groans at the feeling of you, so hot and wet. And he’s hardly even touched you.

“So fuckin’ hot,” he mumbles, loud enough only for you to hear.

He still makes it all about you. Makes sure you’re enjoying it. Makes sure you’re trembling and struggling before giving you what you want.

And he does wait. Gliding his finger up and down, but not at all where you need him. The tip of it catches against your hole but that’s the only relief you get, until you start squirming around.

With a kiss to your jaw, Steve runs his finger up to your clit. You gasp, back arching, leaning back against Steve.

“Feels good, huh?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. You’re still getting used to the whole dirty talk thing, despite the lessons Steve’s given you.

“Y’know how many people out there are jealous of you? That you get to enjoy this?”

You whimper. His touch is unabated, unobstructed from anything, whether from your underwear or your own legs. You can’t squeeze your thighs shut to try to run from the pleasure. You just have to take it.

And Steve does give it to you.

You moan breathily when his middle finger slides into you. His other hand, which was resting on your sternum, makes its way downwards to circle your clit.

“Shit,” you breathe, your head leaning back on his shoulder.

“Big for you, huh?” he coos, fucking his finger in and out of you. Slow. He isn’t rushing because he knows he has to go slow or you’ll come way too quick. Even at this pace, it’ll only take you ten minutes to get there for him.

“Stretching me out so much,” you moan.

Your hand moves down to grip at the wrist of the hand that’s moving against your clit. You’re not necessarily trying to stop him, but the pleasure is so harsh and immense that it’s an instinct to push at him.

“Uh-uh,” he tsks, batting your hand away. “You can take it, honey, know you can. You take more than this every night, don’t you?”

He’s so full of shit that it almost makes you laugh. But you moan instead.

“It’s too much,” you cry, hips wiggling.

He’s still moving nice and slow, easing into you, stretching you with patience.

“This is?” he asks. “Or this is?”

Two fingers slide into you. You gasp, arching your back again, wriggling.

“You’re cute,” he says, “‘Too much?’ Why are you trying to fuck yourself on me then?”

He removes his fingers only to bring some of your arousal to your clit. He applies even pressure, rubs the swollen bud in little circles. You whine, then gasp when he fucks them back into you.

“They think you’re innocent,” he whispers, only to you. “Almost have me fooled, too.”

“Shit,” you gasp, reaching an arm back to wrap around his neck.

Steve chuckles. His fingers move faster. You’re panting, still writhing, hips bucking against his movements. He presses against the soft spot that makes you quake, and you gasp, nearly coming off of his lap.

“Take it,” he coaxes, trying to grip you tighter. “Let ‘em see how easy you are.”

“Steve,” you breathe. You feel insane. Vision becoming blurred, head filled with nothing but want. You can hardly talk, let alone breathe.

His fingers slow, then he pulls out of you again. They work around your clit, making you keen. It’s a bit easier for you to come just from having your clit played with, and Steve’s other arm is now working on keeping you tight against his chest.

The pressure builds. And builds. And builds. And Steve’s murmuring praises into your ear, things only you can hear. Sweet and romantic and much different than what his fingers are implying.

He pulls away. You have one second to process that before his hand slaps your clit.

“Fuck!” you gasp. You try to run away but Steve’s strong arms keep you pinned.

His fingers spread you open again.

“Look at that,” he says, sounding awed, showing you off to the camera. He slides your arousal around, up and down your pussy, making you ache. You could cry, your pleasure pulled away so quickly.

“Dick,” you whisper.

His hand comes down on your cunt again and two fingers slide into you, the pace rough, his fingers curling just right.

You don’t understand the noises he pulls out of you. Steve sucks at your neck, kisses your cheeks, nips at your jawline.

“That feel good?” he murmurs, gently biting your earlobe.

You nod. “Y-yes.”

He smiles against the shell of your ear.

“Pretty baby,” he coos. “Better buckle up, then.”

[stevenose]

feel it still (18+)

part of the august writing challenge

today’s word: honey

contents: reader with a vagina and breasts; first time oral sex!! (reader receiving); pussy drunk steve; two friends who run in the same circle fucking (my fave)

It’s only you and Steve at the bar now. And it’s a nice bar, one in the city that he’s recently moved to with his friend - and your friend - Robin. It’s not a dive, and the drinks definitely aren’t cheap — it’s more of a club than anything. Perhaps that’s why you both stayed when everyone left. Or perhaps it’s something different.

You’re clinging on to any conversation you can have. Nearly forcing it, trying to think of anything. Asking him so many questions, even ones that you already know the answer to. You’d met Steve through mutual friends three months ago and you’re desperate to know him more.

Eventually, and you’re not exactly sure how, it turns sexual.

Steve looks a little embarrassed, shy, his finger running along the rim of the glass holding his watered down rum and coke. It’s a weird thing to be discussing, and you keep your voices low, as if anyone could hear you over the blasting music.

“So, I — yeah,” he sighs. “Six months.”

You take a long drink of your cocktail. It’s also watered down and tastes like shit, but you need it to keep talking. “I can’t believe you don’t have a girlfriend.”

Steve laughs softly, sitting back and looking away from you. He shrugs with one shoulder, threading his fingers together and resting his hands on his stomach.

“Neither can I,” he sighs, lips upturned slightly.

Finally, he looks at you.

“When was your last time?”

You swallow hard and try to think. “Maybe three months ago?”

“One night stand?”

You bring your glass back up to your lips. “You know it.”

He hums. A silence washes over you.

“What do you miss?” he asks.

“What do you mean?”

“About having sex.”

Your brows furrow and you laugh awkwardly. “I don’t know.”

“There’s gotta be something,” he presses, leaning across the table slightly. “You like getting eaten out?”

You’re so taken aback by the question that you freeze. Steve just stares at you, brown eyes looking at you intensely. Or maybe it isn’t intense. Actually, this entire thing feels like a dream.

“Do you?”

You stare a moment longer. “I’ve never done that.”

“Huh?”

“I’ve never been… like. That’s never happened to me.”

He looks shocked. “You’re kidding.”

“That’s not really something men I’ve been with are interested in.”

Steve still looks floored by this information.

“You like it?” you ask.

He clears his throat. “Probably what I miss most, actually.”

“No way.”

“Yes, way.”

You both sip on your drinks a little more, finally looking away from each other. You decide to play this one cool and not take it too seriously. It’s late, and you’ve had a few drinks, and you’re both just talking without thinking. Surely.

You open your mouth to make a joke, but Steve talks first.

“Do you want to be eaten out?”

Long pause. You laugh. “What, are you offering?”

And he nods. Slowly. Eyes intense.

You laugh again, because you don’t know what else to do.

He doesn’t say anything.

“Are you serious?”

“You’ve never had it done to you, and I haven’t done it in a long time. Sounds like a match made in heaven to me.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, enough to make it bleed.

“I don’t have a roommate,” you finally say. Because if he’s offering, you won’t say no.

“Tell me the address and I’ll get a cab.”

The taxi ride is long and awkward. You both keep your hands to yourself and you don’t talk. You both stare out the window. You adjust in your seat a few times because, yes, you’re already wet, though you definitely won’t believe this is happening until his mouth is actually on you.

Your heels click against the pavement as you walk towards your complex’s front door, fishing your keys out of your bag. Steve’s on your heels. When you pause to unlock it, Steve gently settles his hand on your lower back. It makes your fingers tremble, and you struggle getting the key into the lock.

You take a deep breath when you finally get into your place. You step out of his way, bending down to unclasp your heels. Steve makes it there before you, though, kneeling and gently taking your calf into his hand. You hold it there for him while he takes the first one off of you, then the second.

You both stare at each other the entire time.

“Is this foreplay?” you breathe. Trying to keep it light, lest you faint.

Steve smiles, running his hands up along the back of your calves and stopping halfway up your thighs.

“I don’t know. Is it?”

He stands and simply kicks his own loafers off. He’s so pretty in the golden glow of your lamplight. More than pretty. Handsome, gorgeous, beautiful. It makes you shy.

“Can I say something?” he says softly. “Well, a few things.”

You nod.

“We don’t have to do this. Whenever you say stop, we will. Doesn’t matter what’s happening, okay? Tell me to leave and I’ll do it.”

You nod. “Thank you.”

“Do you trust me?”

“If Robin trusts you, then so do I.”

He smiles softly. “I’ll take it slow. If you don’t like something, tell me.”

“How slow?” you tease gently.

Steve pulls you in, his arms around your waist. “Very slow. I hope you’re as patient as you are pretty.”

You roll your eyes but your cheeks burn.

“You really are pretty,” he says softly.

Your legs are already shaking. “So are you.”

He licks his lips, quickly, like he’s contemplating something.

“Can I kiss you?”

Your stomach somersaults. “Of course.”

When he said slow, he meant it. Everything is slow. His mouth against yours, his tongue against yours. Getting you onto your bed took ten minutes. Kissing down your neck and unbuttoning your top took another ten. He spent ten just on your tits alone, which you emphatically agreed to let him do.

Steve eventually gets to where you both want him to. He pushes your skirt up to your waist slowly, and he gasps a little when he sees you on display for him, in your underwear. Thighs spread, the thin cotton soaked through.

“This is embarrassing,” you groan, twitching to close your thighs, but Steve’s big hands keep them open.

“Nothin’ to be embarrassed about. You look beautiful.”

You inhale shakily. “I don’t know if I can look at you.”

“That’s okay,” he says softly. “Don’t have to. Look wherever you want.”

So you lay back, eyes staring up at the ceiling. It feels like you’re on an examination table.

But then Steve’s soft lips kiss your inner thighs. You shiver, his mouth tickling the sensitive skin. He alternates between the two, tongue flicking out to taste your skin.

“Jesus Christ,” you sigh.

“Feels good?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. “Really good.”

You feel him smile against your skin. He sucks at it, leaves little nips then kisses it better. Your hands grip the sheets, cunt clenching around nothing, leaking so much you can feel it.

Steve makes his way to the apex of your thigh and pelvis. There’s a pause, and then his nose is pressed against your core.

He inhales.

“Holy. Shit.”

He laughs breathlessly, his fingers dipping into your waistband. “You smell so good.”

You’re panting, a complete mess above him. It’s sort of humiliating. You can’t remember the last time someone treated you like this — putting you first, moving slow, savoring you.

“Can I take these off?”

You swallow harshly. “I’m still embarrassed.”

“We don’t have to,” he says, “but I hope you know that I’ll get pussy drunk no matter what. And I know it’s cute.”

“I don’t shave,” you confess.

“I know,” he groans, “Can see it poking out. I love it.”

“Wow,” you whisper. Genuinely awed.

“Can I?” he repeats.

“Yes,” you say quickly.

You feel him slowly — slowly — peel your underwear off of you. He groans so lowly in his chest that you feel the vibration. The fabric falls to your ankles, then onto the floor.

“Is it okay?” you ask.

Steve’s hands wrap around the underside of your thighs and he pulls you closer, keeping you steady.

“More than okay.”

His breath is hot against you. It’s quiet for a moment, and you sneak a glance down to see what he’s up to.

You understand why he said he gets pussy drunk.

He’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. Staring at your pussy with hooded eyes, fixated on you. He licks his lips and gently runs his fingers through the patch of hair above where you need him.

He looks up to see you, and smirks. Your heart falls into your stomach and bounces back up.

“Can I?”

You nod.

“Say it,” he presses.

“Please?”

You’re a loud, writhing mess the moment he mouths at you. It’s such a strange and foreign feeling. Your hips jerk, but his arms keep you in place for him.

“Oh, wow,” you breathe.

He chuckles. “Wanna feel something really good?”

His tongue licks a deep, long stripe up your folds. It catches on your hole and your clit. You nearly scream, back arching, your hands flying to his hair.

Steve moans loudly.

“Oh my god.” His voice is desperate, wrecked.

“Holy shit,” you repeat, chest heaving.

Steve does it again. And again.

“Tastes so goddamn good.” He practically growls it.

“What - what does it t-taste like?”

He licks at you again, groaning. “Like honey.”

Your eyes roll back. He pulls you closer to his mouth, eyes flicking up to you, keeping that slow and steady pace, savoring you.

“Steve — Steve — oh my fuckin’ god.”

His hips grind into your mattress. You sneak a glance at him again. He’s wrecked. Soft, brown hair a mess between your fingers. His eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head. His cheeks pink, his mouth hungry.

“You’re so fucking hot,” you moan.

He makes a noise you’ve never heard before and flicks his tongue against your clit before dragging it back down to your hole. He tapers his tongue and fucks into it, breathing heavily, moaning.

When his lips wrap around your clit, you see stars. Eyes rolling back, hips bucking, and you’re not coming but you’re so immensely close just from five minutes of his work, if that.

Steve’s starving for it. Getting louder and louder, putting more into his movements, mouth moving faster. He humps against your bed, pulling you in as tight as he can.

“You’re — y — c-can you breathe?”

He hums against your clit, lips sucking at it. “Mhm.”

You don’t believe him, but he seems into it nonetheless. You try not to squeeze your thighs around him too much, but it’s difficult. Especially when he starts finding what drives you crazy, what makes you loud.

“That’s right,” he groans between your legs. “Take what you want.”

No one has ever said that to you before. Your stomach twists, pressure building and building and building.

“So good, so good, so good,” you ramble, hips grinding on him.

His nose feels amazing on your clit.

Steve whimpers, and you push his hair back away from his sweaty forehead to see him. He’s gorgeous, such a vision. Fucking you with his hot, wet tongue like he’s worshipping you.

“Taste so good,” he moans, pulling away ever so slightly, enough for you to hear him. Voice thick and rough. “Haven’t had a pussy like this in so long.”

“I’m going to — I’m —“

He keeps his movements steady and he watches you. He doesn’t miss a single expression. Your eyes roll back hard, legs shaking, hips rutting, chest heaving.

“So goddamn beautiful.”

That’s what makes you break. You cry with a shout, which is nearly drowned out by Steve’s own moans. You gasp for air, dizzy, fucked out, sweating.

Perhaps the hardest you’ve ever came in your life. And you could go for more.

But your clit is sore and you’re overstimulated. You have to pull Steve back to get him to stop.

“Sorry,” he whispers, mouth and nose wet.

“It’s okay,” you pant. “You’re so gorgeous, Steve.”

He smiles, perhaps a little smug. “Was that good?”

You laugh. “I see why you miss it.”

He climbs up your body, his chest rubbing against your sensitive nipples. He doesn’t waste any time in kissing you, slow and sloppy, mouth moving just like it did two minutes ago.

You’ve never tasted yourself before, let alone from the lips of a man.

“Told you,” he murmurs, pulling away slightly, “like honey.”

[stevenose]

take some time (18+)

part of the august writing challenge

today’s word: interrupt

contents: gender unspecified reader; reader with a vagina; bottom!steve; big dick stevie; dumbification (steve go stupid); teasing

short and sweet one for u today 🤍

Your hips roll, fucking yourself on Steve. He lays below you, hair a mess, cheeks red and lips kiss-bitten. He looks like a wreck, but watches you in awe, partially sitting up on his elbows.

You have to gently push him back down. “I’m doing the work, not you, sweetheart.”

Steve swallows hard, blinks harder. “I… but I….”

“It’s okay,” you whisper. You fuck him slow, taking him as deep as you can. It borders right in the cusp of pain and pleasure. “You don’t have to think.”

He groans low in his throat and reluctantly lays back down. You sigh as you continue you work, each movement a confession. You grind your clit on his pelvis and moan softly.

“You fill me up so good,” you say softly, leaning down towards him. “So deep, Steve, can you feel it?”

Steve shudders.

“I —“

“Don’t interrupt,” you coo. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you, Steve?”

He whimpers and nods.

“I know.” You grind down on him, moaning softly. “Good boys don’t need to think, do they?”

He shakes his head.

You nuzzle your nose against his. “That’s what I thought. Just think about how good my pussy feels. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

He groans and nods. His fingers fist the soft sheets below him, his jaw clenched, eyes squeezed shut.

“So handsome like this. You know that? All fucked out for me. Letting me do whatever I want to you.”

He mouths anything. Careful not to interrupt your monologuing again.

“Lover boy.” You kiss him softly. He chases after you, but you’re too quick. “Or are you just a dumb little slut?”

Steve shudders, inhaling shakily, then groaning on the exhale.

“Which one, pretty boy? You can answer.”

“I love you,” he moans.

“Just pussy whipped, huh?”

“Please — faster.”

You made no attempts to act out his request. You gently tsk at him instead, resting your palms on his warm, hair covered chest, rising and falling with each gasp and groan he has.

“You’re taking what I give you. No compromises, Steve. Just go brainless for me.”

His eyes roll into the back of his head. You giggle.

“It’s so fun to bitch a man like you out.”