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HANDLE IT

mike schmidt x f!teacher!reader word count; 2,417 warnings; once again, no plot, just porn <3 summary; mike has a look. that's never a good sign.

 “Follow Mrs Davis and her class for lunch!”

 Mike watched from his seat behind the teacher’s desk as his girlfriend saw her class out the door, hand on the handle and pulling it closed behind them, making sure to twist the lock while she did. The corners of his mouth twitched as she sighed and fell back against the door, blowing a strand of loose hair out of her face. 

 “Long day?” Mike asked and she narrowed her eyes over at him, her lips quirked in a tired grin. “Don’t even get me started,” she grumbled as she pushed herself off of the door, heels clicking against the tile as she made her way back to her desk. 

 “Abby hasn’t been a problem, I hope?” Mike cocked an eyebrow to his hairline as she leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek, settling herself down in her chair. She rolled her eyes at this, “you always make it seem like she should be causing trouble,” she tittered. “No, Abby’s always great.”

 She watched as Mike reached for the floor beside him, a plastic takeout bag in his hand and she grinned, wiggling in her seat as he began to unravel the knot in the handles. “Sooo… what did you bring me?” She asked, letting the smell of what she swore was tomato sauce waft through her nostrils.

 “New Italian place opened in the mall. Figured we could try it out,” he replied as he handed her one of the takeout boxes in which she ripped the lid off of, grinning over at Mike. “Spaghetti with meatballs. You know me so well.”

 She leaned forward as he handed her the plastic fork to press a kiss against his lips and Mike smiled, practically chasing after her mouth again when she pulled away. He watched as she spun the spaghetti around her fork, as she took a bite and moaned at the taste. 

 Suddenly, Mike’s jeans felt very tight. 

 “What is this place called? It’s amazing,” she moaned, chewing behind her fingers as she turned to glance over at Mike. “Ten out of ten. This might even be better than your spaghetti and meatballs.”

 Mike, although distracted by something else entirely, furrowed his brows at this, tossing his hands up. “Hey,” he said. “Thought you loved my spaghetti and meatballs.”

 She shrugged, “they’re alright.” Mike playfully shoved her shoulder and she tried to bite back a chuckle, glancing back over to him. “Hey, I don’t see you eating spaghetti and meatballs, why don’t you try and find out?” She laughed, taking a bite from a meatball as Mike pressed his lips together, curved into a grin as he shook his head. “Nah, I’m not that hungry right now.”

 She raised a brow and tilted her head to eye the other takeout box in the plastic bag. “Mike, you haven’t even touched your food,” she tittered, eyeing him incredulously. She narrowed her lids, “you have a look.”

 The corner of Mike’s mouth twitched— she was catching on. “I don’t have a look.”

 Her face fell and she dropped her fork in the to-go box, eyebrow cocked. “Yes, you do.”

 Mike leaned back in his seat and locked his fingers together on his lap, shrugging as he turned his head to face her. “Enlighten me, what look do you think I have?”

 For a fleeting moment, her gaze lowered to the very evident tent in his jeans, her thighs subconsciously clenching together at the sight, cheeks growing warm when he chuckled. She looked away, soothing her palms up and down the length of her skirt and Mike watched, teeth sunken into the inside of his cheek. A scenario played in the forefront of his mind, fantasizing about ripping the skirt clean off her legs and taking her right there on top of her desk had him balling a fist, squeezing his thumb so tight, it almost felt like it’d pop. 

 “Mike…”

 “What?” He murmured, leaning in closer, brushing away the hair curtaining away the side of her face back behind her ear. She melted like wax at his touch, as if her fingertips were flames. Her skin burned so hot now, she feared she actually would melt into a pool of magma on the floor below. 

 “Here?” She whispered as he rolled his chair closer, his breath a phantom looming over her flesh, sending shivers slithering down the coil of her spine. Mike peered up into the sides of her irises, “why not?”

 His lips pressed against the delicate skin just below her ear and she trembled, panicking eyes darting to the door she had thankfully locked. “I’ll give you a million reasons why not,” she murmured as his kisses trailed down to the curve of her shoulder, the scruff on his chin and just above his lips deliciously burning her skin. 

 “I can be sneaky,” he whispered against the valley between her neck and shoulder, his lips a crescent against her skin when he playfully nipped her flesh between his teeth there. She jolted and hissed, clenching her thighs together once more as the familiar slick of warmth burned the pit of her belly. “If somebody walks in, we’re both dead,” she murmured as his palm gripped and soothed down the length of her thigh, kneading at her knee, teasing her, taunting her. 

 “Relax, babe,” he breathed a chuckle against the crook of her neck. “I just want a taste, that’s all. Wouldn’t want you to get all fucked out before the day is over.”

 His low, raspy words had her reeling, her head in a frenzy and teetering on the edge of a mindset she knew she was at risk of falling down into. “Screw you, Mike,” she muttered through gritted teeth as he grinned, placing one last kiss against the breadth of her shoulder before sinking down to his knees on the floor, hanging his head so that he could fit beneath the desk. 

 Her heart drummed against her chest as he slithered his way between her legs, hands on her knees as slowly he parted them, as if he were unwrapping a present on Christmas Day. Through heavy eyelids, she peered down at him just as a silent curse fell from his mouth, teeth burrowed into the plush of his bottom lip as the pads of his thumbs rubbed circles into the inside of her knees. 

 “You’re soaked clean through your panties,” he chuckled and she burned brighter, sweat already beginning to bead at her hairline and her chest heaving to the unsteady beat of her heart. His name fell from her lips in a whispered sigh as he reached forward with his right thumb, pressing the fat of it straight onto her clothed clit, her back arching up off of her chair as he traced an agonizingly slow and painful circle against it, sighing at the way her slick showed through the thin fabric of her underwear. 

 “Fffuck,” he grumbled beneath his breath, hiking the skirt that hugged her curves until they pooled at her hips, pushing her knees further apart until he had full access to everything. His gaze was like a laser, burning through the damp fabric of her panties straight through to her pussy. He eyed her like he was starved, like he’d go hungry if he didn't get himself a taste. 

 Mike hooked his middle and forefinger around the hem of her underwear and tugged, although with some resistance with how wet she was. She gasped when the fabric unstuck itself from her arousal, Mike’s lips falling agape as he tugged her panties all the way down her legs until they hooked around one single ankle. He pressed himself closer, wrapping his arms around her hips and with his palms to her ass, drawing her in even closer until she sat on the edge of her seat. 

 “So fuckin’ pretty,” he marveled at the sight before him, admiring every single inch of her as if she were an artifact. She shuddered beneath his stare. “Mike,” she mewled through a shaky breath, “please.”

 With those deep, rich chocolate brown eyes, he glimpsed up at her and she gazed back, wondering when his pupils ended and his irises started. His eyes glimmered with longing, with desire, with lust. She thought she’d come from just his stare alone. 

 “Have to stay quiet, hm?” He nodded up at her, maintaining eye contact as he pressed a kiss just above her clit, feeling it throb against his chin as she writhed, trying to suppress her mewl. She nodded, pressing her lips together as she briefly glanced up at the door then to the windows— she was so grateful she’d drawn the blinds earlier. 

 Their gazes never leaving one another, Mike carefully leaned down to press a tender kiss on top of her aching bud, her toes curling in, back arching off the back of her chair. One of her hands flung to the mess of dark tendrils atop his head, the other gripping the armrest of her desk chair. Mike pulled away again, the makings of a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth. “Think you can handle it?” He asked and she whimpered, nodding, every ounce of dignity in her body long gone, thrown somewhere far away from right there.

 “Just… please, Mike,” she whined, trying to keep her voice on the low as she gripped the roots of his hair tighter, inviting him back into her warmth, his arousal like a gloss on his lips. The crescent shape of his lips fell back against her clit as he pressed another kiss to it, electricity flowing through her body and making her jolt once more. 

 Mike eyed her through hooded lids as he licked a stripe all the way from her entrance back up the underside of her clit, relishing in the way she’d tremble and press her lips together in a desperate attempt to silence her whimpers. The delectable taste of her arousal coated his tongue and simmered on his taste buds as if she were his ambrosia, and he hummed as he licked another line up her slit. 

 “Taste so damn good,” he practically growled against her cunt as he plunged his face back in, his lips around her clit and tongue swirling against the sensitive nub. Tears were streaming down the sides of her face now as she threw her head back, using every last ounce of strength inside her body to will her moans to stay at a minimum. All she could do was pray that nobody would come knocking on her classroom door now. 

 A string of curses, his name among the mix, tumbled from her lips as he sucked her clit, every swirl of his tongue coaxing her closer and closer to the edge. She was balancing on a tightrope now, teetering on bliss as his tongue trailed down to her entrance, slow but firm as it pushed its way in. Her fingers tightened in the mess of hair on his head, pulling harder, making him surge into her. 

 She could feel every inch of his tongue inside of her and he was so close, the bridge of his nose pressed deliciously down on her clit, sending her down into a spiral of pleasure. She squeezed her eyelids together so tight, she was seeing stars, a shimmering backdrop of glitter as he swirled his muscle inside of her, humming into her at her taste. 

 “Sh… shi… shit, Mike!” She gasped as he nodded his head, tongue swirling inside of her, the bridge of his nose rubbing up and down against her clit. Her eyes were rolling into the back of her hand, every move his tongue made and every bit of pressure his nose applied to her clit added more rubber bands to the ball pressing down against the pit of her belly, dangerously close to erupting. “I’m… I’m gonna come if you don’t… if you don’t stop.”

 Mike blinked up at her and pulled away for breath, every inch of his face from the bridge of his nose down slick and shiny with her arousal. She felt herself clench at the mere sight as his chest heaved, chasing air back into his lungs, a smug smirk on his face. “I’m betting on it, babe,” he chuckled before diving back in, her pussy empty one moment and nearly full of his tongue the next. 

 His eagerness almost had her screaming, her nails scraping so hard against his scalp, somewhere in the back of her mind, she feared she’d draw blood. Mike hummed against her— he didn’t seem to mind so much. 

 Oh, how could he when he could sense she was so close? He could practically smell her orgasm, using every ounce of skill in his body to push her even closer to the edge, to knock her unsteady on top of that tightrope until it snapped below her altogether. 

 With her hand not tangled in his hair, she sank her teeth into the side of her hand to muffle the scream that ripped through her body, squeezing her eyelids shut even tighter as her body spasms, bones rattling in her release’s wake. Her orgasm thundered and cracked through her body like an earthquake, the sheer power of her release like a tempest. Her thighs squeezed around Mike’s head and he palmed at the sides of them as he swirled his tongue inside of her again and again, making sure not a drop of her went to waste. 

 He was practically drinking her, slurping every last drop until there was none left to be had. And only when that moment came did he pull away, breathless as he sat back on his heels below her desk, swiping at the slick dripping down his face with the back of his hand. 

 Mike gazed up at her curiously, her head still thrown back over the back of the chair, chest heaving up and down as she struggled to catch her breath. He chuckled as he pushed himself out from underneath her desk and up so that he could stand beside her, a palm cupping her cheek, the other aiding her head to sit normally on her shoulders. The pad of his thumb soothed over against her cheek, coaxing her out of her bleary state, her vision slowly beginning to clear again. 

 Mike tried to bite back his smile, “doing alright there?”

 She huffed as her cheeks burned, “shut up, Mike.”

a/n; i ended up writing up this one in like 45 minutes while sitting in the bathtub LMAO y'all went absolutely crazy with the last mike fic, you literally broke my tumblr notifications 😭 glad to see so many others horny for josh in this movie too

TAGLIST !!

@bxbyyyjocelyn

“On drums and tiger skin trousers, mr. Roger Taylor! On dazzling tie and bass guitar, mr. John Deacon! And on maracas and sometimes vocals, mr. Freddie Mercury!” - Queen Live Killers, 1979.

That's how I imagine him writing us the Valentine's Day card, so silly goofy

Käärijä - Helsinki 20.05 3/??

pre-calc teacher: in order to figure out whether or not a graph has continuity you need to ride the graph

pre-calc teacher: *traces graph with finger on projector*

ENFP: *looks at INTJ*

ENFP: ill ride ur graph ;)

INTJ: hot

seriously gay for a man to be in his 40′s

“I can turn back the night sky.”

MOON KNIGHT (2022-) S01E03 | “The Friendly Type”

Love Language (Steven Grant Request)

Pairing: Steven Grant (Moon Knight) x Reader

Rating: Explicit (Gender neutral pronouns throughout, but AFAB reader for smut purposes. As per this request the reader touches themselves in bed while Steven is asleep, so reader discretion advised on that topic)

Word Count: 3.4k

Request: "Huge fan of SG Wet Dreams but I also bring you: Steven being nervous about physicality and reader not wanting to push him but it's just a bit much laying next to him at night horny and how would he handle waking up to a reader pleasuring themselves 😶"

Author's Note: Bringing back my sweet boy Steven Grant for this exceptional request :) Thank you to everyone sending me these headcanons, I hope the months I take to reply are worth it 😄💞

Love Language (Steven Grant)

"It's only been a month, give him all the time he needs and he'll make a move eventually. I mean look at you, of course he will! But when he's ready and not before" You spoke firmly to your dressed up reflection in the mirrored wall, as the lift climbed to Steven's floor. Dating the gift shop employee had been the dreamiest month you could have imagined, his undivided attention and warmth filling your heart every time his eyes met yours. You could tell how much effort it had taken him just to ask you out in the first place, nervously wringing his hands as he stumbled his way through directions to a cafe he liked nearby, so the last thing you wanted to do was pressure the seemingly inexperienced sweetheart. After four dates, and a painfully slow walk back to your place, you had finally stared at his lips so unavoidably that he'd worked up the nerve to kiss you goodnight, giggling enthusiastically with every kiss you shared since. You were content to take things slow with Steven, respecting his boundaries and confident you were both in this for the long haul. However it's safe to say that while your brain had accepted that, your body didn't seem to get the message. With every sweet word, every gentle brush of his trembling fingers over your skin, every nuzzle of his nose against yours as he beamed after each kiss, you ached for him more and more. And the thought of spending the whole evening with your thighs pressed against each other on his little sofa sent electricity through your veins that was hard to ignore.

You took a deep breath before you knocked for his flat, reminding yourself again to let Steven set the pace, his comfort far more important than your stirring desires. The door sprung open the second your knuckles made contact with the wood, your sweet date hovering by the door from the moment you'd let him know you were leaving work.

"(Y/n)!" He cried excitedly, like he did every time he saw you, no matter how dates you'd been on together. His warm gaze fixed on your face, trying to notice every detail of it, even more entranced by your beauty that he'd been the first time he saw you across the museum. He stilled in the doorway, letting the butterflies inside him soar, already day-dreaming of a future where he was the man you came home to day after day.

"Hi Steven." You greeted gently, shuffling the bags in your arms a bit to snap him out of his trance.

"God sorry, I'm blocking the doorway like a numpty while you've got all those bags. Come in, let me take one of those." He scrambled out the way, shaking his head, and helping you set down the bags in your arms.

"Thank Steven, as much as I love taking the time to stare at you, they were a bit heavy." You joked, earning a almost manic laugh from him as he shook his head again, blood flushing his cheeks with colour,

"YOU staring at ME, yeah right, good one." He peered into the canvas bag as he settled it onto his kitchen counter, "What is all this love?"

"Well it's miserable outside, so I thought rather than go out I would cook for us?" You watched a sweet smile spread across Steven's face at your thoughtfulness, genuinely surprised by the seemingly endless kindness you held for him. As he watched you pull out ingredients and navigate his little kitchen his face faltered for a second,

"Oh god, i'm so sorry love, I don't know if I've told you but I'm vegan..." You laughed at his panicked expression, like he hadn't mentioned it at every dinner date for the last month, before smiling reassuringly,

"So is my ramen." Adding with a wink, "Maybe I should introduce the two of you." At that he let out another loud laugh, moving around the counter to situate himself right in front of you, timidly wrapping his arms around your neck, the soft wool of his jumper enveloping your shoulders as his lips found yours. His kiss landed softly, full of warmth, a smile fighting against his cheeks as you leant forward to let your chest settle against his.

"You really are perfect." He breathed-out absent-mindedly, more thinking aloud in the warming glow of your embrace than actively seeking to compliment you.

"I' don't know about perfect, but i'd settle for perfect for you." You replied sweetly, drinking in the loving light in Steven's eyes as he happily nodded at your comment, trying not to think about the warmth building in your lower belly as he hugged you closer. Steven stood in silence for a beat, just letting himself enjoy this moment, the kind of easy Friday night he had longed for his whole life now a regular fixture in his present and future. That seemed to trigger a follow-up thought for him because he jumped away from your touch, suddenly dashing around his flat like a man possessed.

"Are you okay, love?" You offered softly, less than concerned as you caught the beaming smile on his face as he rummaged through a satchel before turning around proudly thrusting his offering towards you.

"Yeah, sorry, I wanted to give you this before I forgot! You said you had a whiteboard at work you could decorate now, so I wanted to give you something from me to put on it! If you want to, obviously you don't have to, but I just thought..." He continued his nervous ramblings as you looked over his gift: a postcard from the museum with a collage of pictures from the ancient Egypt exhibit across the front. Turning it over delicately, already treasuring the simple gift, you could see Steven had carefully hand-written a note for you, in hieroglyphs.

"I love it Steven, of course I want to put it up. What does it say?" You beamed, watching his stare fall to his feet, hands wringing nervously like they had the first day you met.

"Well, uh, that's a secret love. One day I'll lend you my dictionary and you can find out. But I promise it's nice." He looked up proudly at the final word, a devotion in his transfixed gaze that made your heart flutter and thighs clench.

***

3:07. The glaring red light of the clock seemed to stare back at you as you struggled to return to the realm of sleep. It had been another perfect evening of respectful romance between you and Steven, ending in him spooning you in bed as you both settled into a cosy rest. But it seemed like today your body wanted more than you were willing to ask for of Steven, waking you with an almost uncomfortably warm feeling in your lower stomach. You stared at the ceiling, not daring to look at the man peacefully resting beside you, his arm still draped over your bare stomach, only adding to your sensitivity. Carefully sliding out from his grasp, you stepped out of bed and stumbled to the kitchen hoping a little space would calm your pounding heart.

It was there you saw the postcard, and decided on something you knew would calm you down: there was nothing less sexy than homework, right? Creeping across the wooden floors, you scanned each book with the torch on your phone until you found the dictionary you were looking for: hieroglyphs. Settling onto the floor you began flicking through, isolating symbols and making a note of each one you translated in your phone. You could feel your eyelids get heavier as you worked, relieved that this intense concentration seemed to be keeping your mind from wandering back to the warm, muscular figure asleep a few feet away. Between the dictionary and trawling through some online forums you could bet Steven was a moderator on, it didn't take you long to find the same string of symbols on a blog covering famous Egyptian love stories from centuries past. There you found the story of a poor egyptian peasant who won the love of a pharaoh's daughter and inscribed in stone for all eternity: "My heart belongs to you, I simply borrow every beat."

If you hadn't already been sat on the floor, you might have genuinely swooned. You allowed yourself a glance at Steven's peaceful form, moved by the way he saw himself next to you, his choice of story just as telling as the sweet words he wanted you to see from him day after day whenever you were apart. You moved as quietly as you could as you set the dictionary back in its place, smiling at the thought of Steven carefully writing this note with no translation, trying to keep the depths of his feelings hidden a little longer. With everything reset you eased yourself back into your place in bed, Steven's broad hand instinctively stretching across your stomach again.

It wasn't until your skin burned under his touch that you realised your little translation exercise had only deepened your aching need for him, his romantic gift making him somehow even more desirable. As you watched him breathe softly in his sleep, full lips slightly parted you couldn't help but picture how beautiful he'd look underneath as you rode him, his lips spilling moans instead of calm breaths. Your thighs rubbed together involuntarily as you stared at him, sighing in relief at the slight friction on your warming core. You knew at this point there was no way you were going to be able to sleep without calming yourself down, your heartbeat pulsing between your legs as your gaze drifted down his bare chest, picturing his awestruck face as you left a trail of kisses down it, teasing him before taking him deep in your throat. Your hand slipped into your shorts before you realised what you were doing, a jolt running up your spine the second it made contact with your throbbing clit. You had to fight not to jump at the contact, already so aroused as you dipped your middle finger slowly into your wet folds. You held your lower lip softly between your teeth as you moved, desperate not to make enough noise to wake Steven, pushing the shame out of your mind as you brought your now slick fingers to circle your clit delicately. Gaze fixed to Steven's stout fingers resting across your bare skin, just inches from where you really them, you thought about how good they'd feel pressing into you, stretching you out and getting you wet before he brought his hard manhood to slide into your centre. As your fingers brushed your sensitive bud in quick circles, you fantasised about the view of Steven on top of you, running his length teasingly between your aching folds, smiling gleefully as you told how much needed his cock, his mouth, his fingers, any of him, begging him to fill you up.

As your eyelids fluttered shut, imagination full of the handsome man beside you, you missed his eyes cracking open slightly, before shooting wide as he watched you.

Steven could feel the slight tremble of your thighs against the bed, initially worried you were having a nightmare, but now wondering if he was in a dream of his own. He held his breath as he watched your fingers work, not wanting to disrupt, his angle letting him see down your shorts to the glistening mess you had worked yourself up into. He thought about shutting his eyes again, feeling like a pervert for wanting nothing more than to let his hand join yours, giving you what he hoped would be a very pleasant surprise. Steven had found himself in a similar position at the end of a lot of your dates, failing to take your physical relationship a step further despite building himself up to it night after night. So usually it was him laying in this bed, fisting himself to the thought of what could have happened if he had just been able to touch you.

"Steven." You moaned absent-mindedly, your mind so clouded by thoughts of him you hadn't noticed your mouth fall open. But Steven had, the noise snapping him back into the moment as he watched your tongue trace across your slightly bitten lip, your chest rising and falling as your pace quickened. He thought about all the moments and opportunities he'd missed to give you bring you to this point of ecstasy himself, and took a deep breath, deciding if he couldn't say something now, the moment might never come.

"Do you want some help with that love?" His voice cut through the quiet dark of the room, and you snapped your eyes open, quickly withdrawing your hand, cursing the involuntary whimper you let out as the loss of contact as you spoke,

"Steven, I'm so sorry! I just couldn't sleep, and I couldn't stop thinking about you. Oh god that probably makes it worse!" The words came out with a tremble as you clasped your hands over your eyes, too mortified to meet his good-natured gaze. You only gave yourself permission to look again when you felt his hand snaking up your inner thigh, tracing small circles into the soft flesh.

"You don't have to be sorry sweetheart, I'm bloody flattered actually! And, I've done the same thing after you've left before, I guess I just didn't think someone as stunning as you would really feel that way about silly old me." Your breath seemed stuck in your chest as you stared deeply into his excited gaze, feeling your legs twitch as his fingers crept higher and higher. You could see him gulp as he reached the edge of your underwear, steadying himself before he spoke,

"I could help if you want, give you a hand...so to speak." His brow furrowed as if unsatisfied with his unpracticed attempts at flirting, "I'd like to touch you, if that's something you want, otherwise I can.."

"I want you to touch me Steven." You breathed out before he could pull his hand away, eyes wide and tone pleading, in a moment that felt like heaven on earth to your excited boyfriend. He grinned and nodded as he slipped his hand into your underwear, moving painfully slowly as if you might change your mind at any second. As his thumb brushed over your wet folds a high pitched sigh left your lips, relief at being touched against coursing through your veins. Steven could feel your stomach tense at his touch, your hips bucking slightly against his hand as he found your clit, brushing over it in soft strokes as his confidence grew. Resting his thumb over your pulsing bud, he slowly slipped one finger inside you, fighting to keep his eyes open so he could watch your wanting reaction as he fought back his own growing excitement, having dreamt of this moment since the first time you'd spent the night. He gave you a few leisurely thrusts and withdraws of his finger, before adding a second one, the feeling of fullness tightening the pressure that had been building inside you all night. His hand worked your entrance as he watched your every reaction to his movements, the combination of his steady rhythm and your growing wetness making every touch feel like silky perfection. Your chest rose and fell at his whim, your nipples hard through the thin fabric of your t-shirt, calling to Steven as he could feel his own hips bucking against your trembling thighs, which occasionally clenched around his hand as your excitement built. He could feel himself straining against the fabric of his pyjamas, his aching, hard, length starting to leak his own excitement as it searched for contact.

As your climax drew closer your fingers threaded through his hair, pulling his lips to yours, barely stifling the latest moan his smooth touch drew from your lips. Eager to feel more of your body, Steven swung his leg over you, moving on top and groaning in your mouth as he felt his throbbing erection rub between your thighs. His fingers kept their steady pace, curling inside you and rubbing your almost overstimulated button, as his tongue hungrily explored your mouth. As you felt the pressure of his dick grinding just below his hand you cried out his name, arching your back to meet him as you felt yourself start to come undone,

"Steven! Fuck, you feel so good." You could feel him moan against your neck as his lips descended lower, his hips trembling at the almost sinful way you cried his name.

"I love the way you say my name love, you sound so good like this."

"You're so good Steven, so gorgeous, so good to me" You continued to praise as his face found your chest, nudging your t-shirt higher with his nose until more of you was exposed for him. He kissed sloppily over your chest, nipping and sucking at the soft skin before letting his tongue trace over your nipple, feeling your walls tighten around his fingers, the volume of your praising words climbing and climbing until they erupted into a single call of his name. You could feel yourself gush around his fingers as your thighs twitched, the teasing lick of his tongue sending you over your long anticipated edge, your whole body writhing under his as the waves of pleasure washed over you. Your head fell back as the pressure inside you finally started to dissipate, overwhelmed by the satisfied feeling of finally having had the man you love pleasure you, and how hard you came at his touch. In the haze of your bliss you could feel his fingers still working you through your orgasm until, with a harsh thrust of his hips and deep groan against your chest, he finally stilled between your legs.

With a soft grip of his hair you brought his lips back to yours for an eager kiss, before sighing out contently, "That was amazing Steven, thank you." He beamed with pride at your words, hoping that meant you'd call on his services again soon, knowing he'd be confident enough to touch any way he wanted on your next date. Planting another soft kiss on his face, you played gently with the hair at the nape of his neck as you gave your hips a soft circle against his,

"If you want I could, return the favour." You spoke softly, taking his bottom lips gently between your teeth only to be met with a laugh that burst through his lips on its own,

"Sorry (Y/n), It's just, uh, a bit too late for that." Your brow furrowed until you realised the slick spread across your shorts wasn't only your own. Even in the darkness Steven's face glowed red at his excitable reaction, watching the dawning realisation spread across face in a slight smile,

"Next time then. Whenever we next wake up." You replied with a quick peck, guiding Steven to lie next to you so you could curl up on his chest, relieved to be less conscious of touching him, and stifling a laugh at the way he nodded happily and glanced back the the red glow of the clock, willing morning to come sooner.

gays really out here dressing like John deacon during the queen live aid performance